portrait of a dead girl

𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖒𝖎𝖈𝖐 (𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖘)

KYRIE ELEISON - remmick x f!reader

NSFW | Remmick takes an unexpected interest in a kind young woman who has decided to take the veil.

𝖕𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖞 𝖒𝖆𝖞𝖓𝖊 (𝖘𝖆𝖘: 𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖊𝖘)

THE ULSTER POET - paddy mayne x f!ats!reader

NSFW | Blackmailed into joining the ATS and shipped to Egypt, you try keeping your head down while navigating the commando and encountering a hot headed Ulster poet.

𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝖜𝖆𝖞 (𝖒𝖈𝖗)

THIS NEVER HAPPENED - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Gerard's new boss catches him acting inappropriately while in the workplace.

TONIGHT, TONIGHT - vampire!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You encounter an attractive stranger while navigating the sea of people at a Smashing Pumpkins gig. He takes a make out session to a whole new level.

IS IT CASUAL NOW? - 2007!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You had a hard time actually understanding what does "no attachments" meant.

YOU DESERVE THIS - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | After making Gerard's life nearly impossible as teenagers, he finally got his revenge.

CUBICLES - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | A young executive assistant notices Gerard, an intern artist. He decided to expand his horizons after a life changing event.

MAYBE NEXT TIME YOU'LL LISTEN TO ME - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Just straight up porn, not one ounce of plot.

BLOOD - lltbp!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Oh, look... more porn with no plot. Established relationship, backstage smut during MCR's most recent tour.

FRONT AND CENTRE - 2005!gerard x gn!reader

Slightly angsty, that's all. Good auld right person, wrong timing.

I JUST CAN'T DO IT - tbp!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You came to find out that Gerard's raise to fame really was the end of it all. Years later you realised that you just could not take it anylonger.

DISAPPEARING ACTS - basement!gerard x older!gn!reader

NSFW | Your friends always teased you as you tended to just... disappear... when the outing was still young and steamy. Young and steamy, just like the man you came across that night.

NOT DONE WITH YOU YET - lltbp!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Working as a touring social media manager with My Chemical Romance had its perks!

FUN TONIGHT - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You had grown up with the Way brothers, your parents were friends. Lost touch with them over the years. You had never enjoyed Gerard's company as much as you did that night.

ON MY WAY AROUND I HAPPENED TO FALL - 2019!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | After landing your first gig after graduation, you knew it was a wrong idea to sleep with your older married boss. But on your way around you still happened to fall.

I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE - 2007!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You were Frank's tattoo artist, and a good friend of the band. Maybe only you could convince Gerard to get over his fear of needles and get his first ink.

SPIT ON A STRANGER - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Maybe Mikey's creepy older brother Gerard was not that bad after all!

I WILL LOVE YOU TILL THE GRASS AROUND MY GRAVESTONE IS DECEASED - 2005, 2007, 2019!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | While spending a lonely summer abroad in NYC, you encountered the lead singer of My Chemical Romance by mere chance.

DO YOU STILL CRY WHEN YOU'RE TOUCHED? - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Gerard sleeps with the woman that broke his heart after a brief, cruel teenage fling. For good auld times' sake.

RUINER - 2013!gerard x vampire!gn!reader

After more than 150 years of solitude, you finally found the perfect victim to ruin.

LATE SHIFT - 2014!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Gerard really enjoys the company of his hotel's concierge.

ACCEPTABLE IN THE 00S - revenge!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | While guest DJing for a club in London, Gerard crosses paths with a local dj whose life is spiralling around addiction and a abusive cheating boyfriend.

PUTTING MYSELF OUT THERE - 2007!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You met an american rock singer named Gerard while navigating a muddy irish music festival.

COSMIC LOVE - hesitant alien!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You were not taking the break up well at all. Maybe it was always in your head. All you needed was one sign.

THE MAN ON THE SCREEN - 2026!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Gerard started to worry when his younger girlfriend started fantasising about his younger self.

I WANNA SLEEP WITH COMMON PEOPLE LIKE YOU - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You told Gerard that your dad was loaded, paid for his drink and went home with him.

THANK GOD FOR BUSINESS CLASS - 2026!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | You always wanted to join the mile high club, but you never though that you'd do so with a famous rock singer.

STAKE MY HEART - gerard x vampire!f!reader

NSFW | He almost fell for your trap, and you both had pleasure in it.

HOW LAME BEING HOME IS - 2013!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | After spending a boring summer off campus with your family, you found some entertainment with your dad's work collaborator.

NOT FAIR - basement!gerard x f!reader

NSFW | Your loser boyfriend Gerard just never learnt how to please a woman in bed.

all works are originally written by afraidoflittleauldme / gaelick. likes, comments and reblogs are always well appreciated!

i am dyslexic, don’t have a beta reader and i am an anti-ai writer so please excuse all the typos across my work! please do not translate without permission, and do not feed to any aiplatforms. this user is strictly anti-ai. happy reading!

last updated 09.04.2026

I was tall for my age, taller than all the boys in my class. I was also older than most of them and when I was only nine years old, I bled for the first time.

The following year, at the age of ten and standing at 5'4, I was intercepted by my mum on my way to the bathroom one morning. "I will take you to the big Tescos later this afternoon. You can choose your first bra." My first bra? That meant I had breasts slightly big enough enough for her to notice they were there. But breasts meant fat. I was getting fat. 

I was taller, older, and so I was also fatter, than any other girl in my class.

Reality was, I was not fat. I was a pretty thin, and borderline malnourished, child. 

"I am hungry," I complained once to my mum, still too early for dinner. She said nothing. She grabbed a rice cake from the pack I had picked up after school from the nearby corner shop and sprinkled some table salt on it.

"That should be enough." 

I, like many other women my age, had unsupervised internet access at a very young age. How was I, a twelve-year-old, meant to look like Alexa Chung?

My teenage internet addiction started with Facebook (playing Pet Society and reading Harry Potter gay fanfiction on Facebook fan pages), then Fanfiction.net, then Wattpad, then We Heart It, then Twitter, and finally I landed on Tumblr.

"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels" was a quote I read for the first time on Tumblr when I was young, and it stuck with me ever since.

My impressionable pre-teen brain clicked. I was fat. All the women I liked on the internet were skinny. Food makes you fat. I need to stop eating.

I not only learned this behaviour from the internet, but at home too. 

"Will you stop with the bread now?"

"People might think you hate me by the way you eat."

"If you suck in your stomach, not only will you look skinnier, but this will also tighten the muscles around your stomach and you'll get abs!"

I still suck in my stomach, and as someone who has been doing this for more than half of my life, SPOILER ALERT: I have no abs… yet?

The "juice detox" was the worst one. My mother claimed it was all under medical supervision and highly recommended by a nutritionist. Whoever this person was needs to have their licence revoked! My mum did it first on her own. Every morning, like clockwork and without waking anyone up, her eating-disorder-enabling Santa Claus (aka the so-called nutritionist) would deliver three sealed plastic bottles to our threshold. Each bottle was “a meal”. Breakfast had a "B" written in black Sharpie on the cap, lunch had an "L", and dinner had a "D".

The rules were simple: Mum was not allowed to eat any solid foods. No sugary drinks. Nothing with extra calories. For the next five days, she was only allowed to drink water, peppermint tea, and ingest whatever the fuck was inside those suspiciously coloured substances.

I was fourteen when I tried my first oopy-gloopy drinkable diet. My mother's idea, not really mine. I was happily disorderly eating.

Yes, I was munching away on Lidl off-brand Mikados with a pint of milk sometimes, but after that I was also waiting for my eighteen-hour self-imposed starvation period to pass so I could eat crisp sandwiches while watching a film with my friends.

As if life was not hard enough for a fourteen-year-old teenager with a terrible haircut, an eating disorder, a crush on a gay boy, and a recently deceased father, I now had to show up to school with a disgusting poop-coloured drink that I was meant to sip throughout the day.

"Why are you drinking sewage water?"

Because that's my meal.

"But why?"

Because I'm on a diet.

"But why?"

Uhm... because...

I couldn't answer that one!

Can you just go back to bullying me for drinking sewage water instead of asking me why I'm drinking it?

Believe it or not, the greyish brown goopy water was my favourite one. Gun to my head, I could not tell you what was in it, but it was the one I dreaded the least. I somehow convinced myself that this one had a bit of a chocolate tang to it. (It didn't.)

At the age of eleven, I was also formally introduced to what an eating disorder was. A health science textbook, provided by the Department of Education and Youth to our school library, had an entire chapter about obesity and eating disorders. The book was a sickly pale peach colour, and on the front it had a lovely picture of a hummingbird feasting on a pink flower blooming from the thorny branch of a bush.

The chapter did not go into full detail. What was I expecting? A comprehensive guide on how to stop eating (or purging yourself too), huh? Instead, they mentioned other funny ones I had never seen on the eating-disorder blogs I secretly followed on Tumblr.

Orthorexia, Pica…

Pica.

The description reminded me of a story my mum told me when I was younger, a story about the time she was carrying me in her womb. My mum was a young mum. We have established that.

In my late twenties, I am typing away about my childhood trauma, picking at my face and pushing back my untidy cuticles with a pair of tweezers I got as a Christmas present from work, which I keep in my childishly decorated cubicle.

In her mid twenties, she already had me.

She once told me that when she was pregnant with me, she loved eating chalk. She loved eating chalk so much that if she drove past a construction site, she'd stop the car and eat slaked lime off the dirt. My mother had suffered from anorexia for most of her life. During her first pregnancy, she did not have the nutrients her body needed to sustain a healthy pregnancy, so she incidentally developed pica.

Iron. It was iron she was lacking.

I always found that an extremely unusual disorder.

What do you mean you want to eat dirt and cotton?

As I’m typing this, I am applying my new Boots glossy lip balm. It claims to moisturise dry lips (I have those) and provide long-lasting hydration (I need that). Additionally, it smells lovely!

My only issue with it? It tastes like mint.

Writing this was all it took for me to openly admit that while quietly hiding behind my work monitors in a fairly crowded office, I squirted a tiny bit of said lip balm into my mouth and swallowed it.

"WARNINGS: This is not a food. Do not swallow. Keep out of reach of children."

OH NO… What have I done?

I did not like the taste. I was NOT craving it either, at least not in the same way my mum craved blackboard chalk and side road quicklime.

I was just... bored? I want to say I did it because I was bored. It was just an intrusive thought that found me at a moment of weakness.

I don’t even wear lip gloss normally either, but I noticed my desk neighbour applying hers. Her name is Geraldine. She is everything I’m not, she has a lovely home she owns, beautiful spotless skin like porcelain, she rocks flawless makeup on the daily and has never missed a day of work. She has a loving husband, who she talks about all the time, and two nearly perfect young children. She has perfectly tidy short red hair, and wears stilettos and fashionable pencil skirts to the office every day. And although I do not want to make any comments about a woman’s body, you could have never tell she has had children. Her thin frame and tiny waist kind of make sense, she’s a runner after all. She ran the Dublin marathon, while I was probably still in bed on an October Sunday morning.

I guess I applied lip gloss to mirror Geraldine. 

But I’m lazy, I rent a flat in Dublin I can’t afford, my boyfriend and I have collective mental breakdowns over mortgage expectations, I have no desire to carry children any time soon, my waist is larger than my hips. I showed up to work today in my trusty pair of Doctor Martens and grey washed Levi’s. My chin and neck are melted into one single mass of flesh, my cheeks are covered in freckles, fat and droopy. I can see the fat on my cheeks flap up and down whenever I try to run 5k. 

Why did I think this Boots lip gloss was going to fix it?

Maybe that’s why I ate it? Will it make me pretty inside too?

At least it's vegan! I am not really vegan.

I hate wearing this lip gloss. I don't have an ounce of makeup on my face today, just this sticky paraffinum gloss.

Lately, I have felt like the personification of a pig wearing lipstick.

I am a pig wearing a Boots mint glossy lip balm.

Geraldine turned her chair around to tell me that I looked tanner. "Are you wearing any makeup today?" she asked.

I know she was just trying to be nice. She didn't need to lie. I told her that I was indeed tanner, since the sun has been shining upon this godforsaken island lately and I have soaked up every bit of it like a seal on a rock.

I could say I am tanner than I was two weeks ago, but as if it wasn't evident enough from the dark puffy bags under my red, glassy eyes... I am NOT wearing any makeup.

I have been at war with my foundation for the past six days ever since I decided that, after nearly a decade of thinking I knew my correct shade, I suddenly wasn't sure anymore.

Pink undertone is too pink. Yellow undertone is too yellow. I look ridiculously caked regardless! 

I would like to say that this is all part of a rebellious anti-concealer act because I love my freckles so much and there is no need to cover them up, but the reality is...Nothing suits me!

Nothing suits me because MAC has yet to come up with a shade called "Greige."

Greige.

Greige, greige, greige, greige...

Why is my undertone that colour? Why am I FUCKING GREY? I looked it up online already and there is not a single explanation.

I found a girl on Reddit asking if her skin undertone was grey. Eureka! I opened the photos. She is not. People gathered a general consensus that she has in fact a pink undertone.

Am I the only grey human on earth?

Am I grey because twenty something years on this planet is too long for a large cute alien being like myself? Is this Earth's oxygen corrupting and slowly breaking apart my bodily functions? Am I decaying alive and turning grey beneath my human cosplay?