#ALL THESE TWO HAVE BEEN THROUGH IS PAIN AND STRUGGLE TO BE TOGETHER WHY DID THEY KILL HIM OH MY GODDDDDDDDD

[minalover]

alright friends and enemies, gather round, it's time to talk.

first of all, looks like we're a little fuzzy on the term gaslighting. so, to refresh your memory:

Gaslighting is a form of manipulation that often occurs in abusive relationships. It is a covert type of emotional abuse where the bully or abuser misleads the target, creating a false narrative and making them question their judgments and reality.

good. now that that's out of the way.

i got triggered by a post today, floating around the side of the fandom that doesn't cross my dash that often, that i didn't expect to hit that hard. see, that's the thing about triggers. most of the time, they're not big, scary, overall concepts. most of the time, they're very small. very specific. words, actions, tones. and i didn't expect this one to hit me. but it did. so hard that i've been trying not to cry for the past hour or so and inspired me to write this down. because it's unbelievably clear, due to the behavior over the last few days, that we need to talk.

eddie's behavior in the kitchen fight in 8x17 was not abusive. point blank. and calling it so is disingenuous. this was a painful and very realistic fight between two people who love and support each other and, due to outrageous circumstances, cannot fight clean. eddie cuts buck to the quick. buck does the same to eddie. the hand on the shoulder and pointer finger is the same behavior we've seen from eddie multiple times, ranging from goofy (bachelor party) to vulnerable (post-tsunami) to supportive (when buck comes out to eddie). this one was done in rage and grief. of course it doesn't look the same. of course it feels different. (from a cinematographical perspective, if they had wanted it to read as abusive, they would have shown it to us. but they didn't. so make your own conclusions if you're able.)

eddie does not have a history of violent or abusive behavior. if you're about to lean on the he almost killed a guy in fight club, yeah. he did. are you also talking about lena bosko, who got him into the first club, in the same way? do you want to talk about how eddie was using it as the world's worst coping mechanism to avoid grief? or how he immediately worked to save the man's life, call for help, and quit? no? okay. you know how else i know he doesn't have a history of violent behavior? because no one is afraid of him. not his son, not his aunt, not his parents, not his coworkers, not his girlfriends, not his wife. so go ahead and wrap that up.

eddie bringing chris and pepa home wasn't love bombing. again, let's go through definitions - [l]ove bombing is an attempt to influence another person with over-the-top displays of attention and affection. so just right off the bat, not the same. what eddie did was apologize to buck in the way he can hear it. we've been talking about love languages and, even though they come from a heteronormative and religious place, they're still helpful in this conversation here. eddie is always supporting buck with words and buck is always supporting eddie with actions. in this moment? eddie realizes that what buck's been struggling with is that lack of family (shown to the audience as the lack of family meals compared with pre-bobby's death). so to apologize and show his love, he brings family together to share a meal. just because it didn't sound like an apology to you doesn't mean it didn't sound like one to buck.

just because it isn't racist to you doesn't mean it doesn't come from racism. as we walk through white fragility 101 together, there is a difference between hey you're racist and hey that thing you said comes from a racist and problematic place can we break it down. holding a character of color (chimney and, in this case, eddie) to different standards than white characters (bobby and buck) is derived from racist ideology whether you intend for it to be or not. so take a step back and look at why you seem to be reacting in this specific way to this specific behavior by this specific character. i can't ask you to unravel every implicit bias you've ever been taught, but i can ask you to take a look at your actions if a bunch of people are pointing it out.

there is gaslighting happening here, but not how you think. the way some folks in this fandom have been posting and reacting to the buddie 8x17 kitchen scene have truly made me second guess everything i'd been seeing. the constant, vitriolic reaction to something i didn't find that upsetting made me go back and watch again and again. did i miss something, am i not able to see it, what's going on? and, here we go kids--what's happening here is gaslighting.

it is a covert type

of emotional abuse

where the bully or abuser misleads the target

creating a false narrative

making them question their judgments and reality.

finally, let's look at what you're specifically not saying. by saying that eddie is abusive, that it looked like he was going to come after buck with a knife, that buddies are sick for romanticizing the behavior (which i haven't seen but okay we'll go with it for now), you're implying that the people who support (or don't actively stand against) eddie's behavior in this episode are no better than abusers themselves. that's your underlying message. by spinning his non-abusive behavior as abuse, taking that narrative for truth, and putting everyone who doesn't agree with you on the opposite side of that argument, you're calling us abusers. and i, frankly, take issue with that.

i need you to understand the difference between uncomfortable and unsafe. i need you to understand that this was not inherently romantic, but emotionally vulnerable. and i need you to understand that clinging to your morally superior high horse will not save you in the real world.

if you want to come yell at me, by all means. anon is off, so you gotta do it with your whole chest. i'd much rather talk about it. i'm here to do white fragility 101 if you need it.

[starkspondwater]

May I request a Kyle or Jimmy period comfort fic?? 🙊🙊

Okay so I AM doing both (because you're putting my two favs there, how can I not) but I'm starting with Kyle first!

Summary: Despite your precise planning, your receive a monthly visitor a bit earlier than expected. This normally wouldn't be a problem if it didn't arrive in the middle of the night...while you slept in your boyfriend's bed.

Word Count: 2452

Nothing To Worry Over (Period Comfort)- Kyle Broflovski x Reader

Your eyes cracked open, slowly taking in the small amount of light that showed through the bedroom window. It must��ve been early, too early for the morning sun to even crest over the horizon. You allowed your limbs to awaken, warmth seeped so deep into your bones that you felt like you were still in a dream. With the body felt at your side you knew this wasn’t your own bed, but it might as well have been.

You spent most nights over at Kyle’s now, having been dating for quite a while. You preferred everything over there more; the space, the sheets, and most importantly him. The smell of him was enough to lull you into a sense of peace and belonging, a sense of just being that you weren’t wanting to ever let go.

That being said, you knew when to allow space. There were weeks Kyle would be swamped with work and needed no distractions, or times where you had your own deadlines to stress over. Those times you spent in your own little bubbles, making the heart grow fonder until you came together once more. It was a good system that thus far hadn't failed. Until now.

As you stretched out your legs, knees cracking slightly, you felt…odd. Your thighs felt sticky and weirdly cold, an uncomfortable feeling settling into your belly as your mind tried to work out just what it was. You were used to a few aches and pains, the joys of growing older, but this pain was located more in your lower belly, familiar and-

Oh fuck.

You had flipped the blankets up and rolled out of bed faster than your legs could handle, nearly falling to the floor in your struggle. You silently thanked whatever God might've been listening that Kyle was such a deep sleeper because in the faint light from the window you could see a large, dark spot on the bed. You didn't even need the flashlight from your phone to show you the color.

You had always been careful when it came to planning around your cycle. It was already a shitty time of month, so why make it harder on yourself? You made sure that you had nothing going on those weeks, instead making sure you could at least relax and remain comfortable. That meant no extra plans out with the girls, no extraneous activity so you could relax, and especially no staying over at Kyle's. Your little apartment was a lovely safe haven.

This wasn't supposed to happen. By your calendar, you technically still had about 5 days until the dreaded demon that was mother nature reared her ugly head, and yet, here she was. You supposed the extra stress from work and family drama could've sped things up, but by 5 days? And now you were left with the evidence of that not only sticking between your legs but also on a rather saturated spot on the bed. Let's rephrase. A spot on the new, pristine sheets Kyle had bought just the day before. 

Your partner had some quirks about him, all of which you found a way to love. He was particular about many things from how he did his hair to how he prepared his food. He liked things a certain way and through this you also found that he was a bit of a germaphobe. He had briefly mentioned something about a past adventure with his friends, apparently having to do with Tom Brady of all people, and from then on he had a small issue with the little organisms that encompassed everything.

Well, small might've been an understatement. He washed his hands often and when he couldn't he had a bottle of hand sanitizer on him at all times. While he was fine with you touching him, he was a little less so with others, lightly veering away from them before any contact was made. His need to keep everything just so also kept everything as clean as possible in his eyes and at times you had to allow a little inconvenience for his comfort. 

Which meant he wasn't going to be too pleased about this. Every little memory of his reactions to things similar to this flew through your mind, each snippet vivid and fresh. Just last week he had gone on a brief rant about the state of Cartman's filthy hoodie he always wore, so how would he react to this? At the thought of just how disgusted he might be, you felt yourself start to sniffle, the pressure you didn’t realize had built within your chest finally becoming too much.

“...Babe?” Voice filled with sleep, Kyle started to turn over and to your horror had started to bring his body into the shame you had left.

“Kyle, Kyle Stop!” You didn't want to shout but you desperately needed him to stay where he was. At the tone of your words he shot up, eyes wide and worried.

“What's wrong, what happened?” Turning down his own side of the blankets he got up, flipping on his lamp as he stood. It took only a moment for his eyes to drop down to the red covering his baby blue sheets.

It was like middle school all over again. Feeling horrible and standing up to leave only for some boy to point out the rather large red stain on the back of your pants. Except instead of that stain on your pants or even on a chair that could be easily cleaned, it was ruining your boyfriend’s bed.

“Uh…did you..?” Kyle didn't know how to start this conversation, his eyes flicking between you and the bed. He hadn't yet noticed the slight bloom of red along the side of his grey joggers, but you certainly did.

All you could bring yourself to do was place your head in your hands.

“I didn't know…um…I'm really so-orry-” you got out just before a sob caught in your throat. This was so fucking embarrassing. 

Large gentle hands began to guide you away from the scene, out of the bedroom and into the bathroom down the hall. You didn't dare look up as you heard the rushing sound of the faucet, warm water filling the tub speedily. Hesitantly, you stripped yourself of your nightclothes, the fabric of your pajama pants clinging uncomfortably to your legs. 

“I'm going to run some laundry, but I'll bring some clothes back for you…okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to hold steady.

The bath itself was gloriously warm, your body soaking up every bit of comfort it provided. You only wish you could have enjoyed it, not spent the entire time cleaning your thighs and hoping to god Kyle didn't just boot you out for this. He'd done so to his friends for far less, granted they usually used those opportunities to tease him. 

You didn't spend too much time in there, not liking the way the water turned murky. After a quick rinse under the shower you tried to look for the darkest towel you could find in the small cupboard by the sinks, settling for a dark fluffy blue one. Twisting the doorknob and stepping outside you found yourself face to chest with the man of the hour.

“Oh! I, uh, got some extra clothes since I figured you wouldn't want to put the others back on,” he said with a small chuckle. In his hands were a pair of boyshorts you must've left over at some point and one of his own t-shirts.

“I can't really wear that out of the house, Kyle.”

“‘Out of the house’? Why would you need to wear it out, you're staying here.” His head tilted allowing a few of those pretty red curls to bounce forward. 

You struggled a moment, considering what to say as you tried not to let yourself get too worked up. You just needed to apologize, then go home. You could deal with whatever fallout would come from this later.

“I just think it would be better if I went back home is all. I don't really have anything here to help me with…this.” You kept averting your eyes down and away every time they veered back up at him. “I’m really sorr-”

“Stay. I have whatever you might need under the sink and I got stuff yesterday to make some breakfast. It shouldn’t go to waste, right?” Kyle’s voice was soft, not a hint of anything remotely close to disgust hidden within. “Let’s just get you settled.”

His hand was warm in yours as he tugged you along, now dressed, with your steps following his own close behind. Before you could reach the stairs, you turned back quickly with intent.

“I just need to get my phone f..first.” You faltered, eyes falling on the naked mattress within the bedroom. Kyle had indeed started a load of laundry, his sheets stripped off and taken away. However, on your side of the bed was a small rag thrown next to a prominent stain. With the faint smell of cleaner in the air it wasn't difficult to ascertain just what Kyle had been doing.

“C’mon,” he urged you, using his lean body to block your view and direct you once more towards the stairs.

Every step down you couldn’t stop the thoughts from pouring in, a broken spout of disgust and humiliation filling your head. You had not only bled on his bed and ruined his sleep, but then you actually fucking stained his mattress. 

“Are you alright?” He finally asked once he got you cuddled up on the couch, the cool faux leather somehow soothing as you sunk into it. Kyle crouched down, bringing his eyes level with yours.

“...M’ fine.” Had there been any other noise within the house those words would've been drowned out.

“... You're lying, but we can discuss that in a bit.” With a sigh he patted his knees, standing up before heading towards the kitchenette. “I'm going to make my girl some breakfast, just try to relax!”

My girl. The term flooded you with warmth, and even through the despair you had been wallowing in you could sense the slight trickle of relief. He wasn't mad, or upset, at least not openly. It didn't take long before Kyle strolled back in, two plates in hand sending up small billows of steam. Two eggs, hash browns, and even some warm bread and butter gave an aroma that left your stomach growling loudly. It was simple, but knowing Kyle it was sure to taste phenomenal.

A comfortable silence fell between you, the clinks of forks against plates the only sound. Normally the two of you would be seated at his small table, lightly chatting and planning your days with small knowing smiles. It made you wonder how it would feel to see that every day, to experience being with him every day. But that was a talk for another time.

Clearing his throat, Kyle angled his body towards you, setting his half eaten plate down. “I know you probably don't want to talk about it, and I understand that…” he trailed off, the cogs in his mind evident as he considered what to say next. 

“I'm so incredibly sorry, Ky,” you said, beating him to it. “It was a surprise to me and I feel so horrible for your sheets…and your bed.”

“Why in the world would you apologize for that, it's not like you can control it.” His voice was stern as he stared at you incredulously. “I mean, they're just sheets and it's not like I can't just turn the mattress over or whatever. I'm more upset that you seem so scared of me.”

“I'm not scared of you! I just…didn't want you to be grossed out or anything. It's not exactly the cleanest thing in the world and I know you don't like-”

“Y/N, I'm grown. This sort of thing doesn't make me squeamish.” With a bored tone he sat back, crossing his ankle on one knee. “Why do you think I have pads in the cabinet for you? How do I always seem to know when to send you flowers or snacks during the month? I pay attention.”

“You…uh…what?” I mean, you did notice he would be extra sweet to you throughout the month, but you supposed you didn't put together that it coincided with a particular visitor.

“You've met my mother. You think she didn't make sure a houseful of boys were aware of that sort of thing?” With a chuckle, he reached out a hand to rub your thigh. It was a comfort you found yourself leaning into. “Besides, the whole “clean” thing is mostly for my friends because I know how they are and what they do. You don't have to worry yourself with that.”

You hummed, shoving another fork full of egg between your lips. The mean little thoughts that had been running rampant since your abrupt waking had begun to slow, fading into the background as you took in Kyle's words. It made sense hearing it from his mouth. Of course he wouldn't be cruel to you over such a thing, of course he knew what he was getting into. Why you had doubted that you weren't even sure to begin with.

With plates finished and put away, Kyle put on some music, light melodies playing out from the small speaker above his TV. Tossing you the book you had abandoned the other day on the coffee table, he took up his own and settled in to read. Much like those other slow mornings he propped your legs up onto his own and rubbed lazy circles into the skin of your calves, his eyes scanning the pages in front of him. You kept your own book up but the words unread, instead letting your eyes roam over his features.

Red curls and bright eyes combined with the slight ginger stubble he sported made him look like a fantasy to you. He was sweet and forward and even with the rather horrible situation this morning you couldn't keep yourself from admiring how he had handled it. How he took care of you.

“I can feel you staring at me, you know,” he said, lips quirked up into a smirk. 

“I'm just really happy,” you answered. You truly were. “C’mere.”

Leaning forward you grabbed the baggy shirt he wore, pulling him towards you. Dropping his novel with a clatter on the floor, Kyle eagerly leaned further to capture your lips within his own.

Maybe you didn't have to avoid him during those times of the month anymore- at least not if you could get this treatment.

[theleafling]

I am actually SICK at this parallel of margo and sergei both getting ready to eat burgers, and then sergei goes to eat his and gets fucking shot in the head, and margo goes along and eats hers and has no fucking idea, just smiling and eating and thinking about sergei's plan for them to go to brazil together. I am sick.

[gojoest]

curiosity — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, childhood friends to lovers, satoru is painfully aware of his own feelings while reader is not, mention of past girlfriends (and how they all looked like you), handjob (m! receiving), cumming in pants (and in your hand), not proofread, wc: 2k, dividers by @/cafekitsune

synopsis: gojo satoru is your childhood best friend. you’ve been inseparable ever since you were little. spending day and night together, you’d often have sleepovers together — a tradition you both carried on throughout your college years. at least once a week you’d drop by his dorm room and stay the night, or vice versa. but compared to your childhood days, you no longer share one bed. that is, until . . .

part 2

a/n: this is a further (and very lousy) elaboration on this post of mine but hey, HAPPY BDAY TO MY ONE AND ONLY

“i think we should try sleeping together”, you suggest one night.

“wah—“, satoru gasps, a teasing glint in his eyes. “didn’t know you felt that way about me”, he smirks.

“just sleeping”, you quickly clarify. “whatever obscene thing you just thought of — it’s not that”, you add, giving him a roll of your eyes.

“you should pick your words more wisely”, he scoffs. “if you go around telling people you want to sleep with them, they will misunderstand”

“ugh”, you huff, “i obviously didn’t mean it like that, and you know it”

“yeah, i do”, he lets out a soft chuckle. he knew exactly what you meant, but still he disguised his wishful thinking behind a teasing remark. “why though? all of a sudden?”

“dunno”, you shrug. “just feeling bad that you always take the floor”

“if that’s the case we can just swap”

“no — i cherish my comfort. come on, we used to do this all the time”, you pout.

indeed you did. but you were kids back then, things were different.

his heartbeat would race and his face would get all hot and red, the heat would fester through his entire body. but when the lights were off it was easy to hide it, the signs that he liked you. after making sure you were fast asleep, he would hold your hand and childishly smile to himself, he would peck it softly, secretly. one time you woke up in the middle of the night and almost caught him but he, startled, kicked you off the bed. yelling at you, lying, how you pushed your finger in his nostril in your sleep… he was so embarrassed, but also relieved you believed what he said was true. his secret was safe.

but now?

when you stand too close to him his body starts acting up in more mature ways. while he is better at controlling his facial expressions now and hiding his nervous heartbeat behind a nonchalant attitude, he struggles with keeping his urges at bay. he’s no longer the boy that blushes while secretly holding your hand; he is a man who craves you.

even when he’s laid on the futon beside the bed you occupy, the sound of your breathing alone gets him hard. you lie there, sleeping innocently, unaware of how much of a pain in the crotch you are being to him. when you leave in the mornings, he climbs onto the bed that is soaked with your scent and shamelessly jerks off. he stands on his knees and sprays his load on the bedsheets. eyes shut close, he pictures you beneath him.

he sighs in defeat. “fine”

“the right side is mine — it’s only natural, because i am always right”, you snicker and quickly pad over to the bed, plopping your body down on the mattress. “sure”, he chuckles and follows after you, sinking himself right next to you.

it is a bit awkward, you must admit. you are laid on your sides facing each other, in silence.

it’s cramped indeed, your knees are brushing against his and the space in the middle separating your bodies from one another is very scarce. but that was to be expected, the beds in the dorm rooms were designed for one person after all.

“so”, you break the silence. “how’s your girlfriend doing?”

“she’s not my girlfriend, anymore”, he states dryly.

“but it’s been barely two weeks since you started dating”

“well, things didn’t work out i guess”

the girls he dated, all of them looked a bit like you. same height, same hair color and length. similar facial features… he never lasted long with any of them though. all of them, visibly bothered by your presence in his life, would too soon ask him to make a choice — either them or you. neither of them aware that he chose to be with them in the first place only because they reminded him of you, and that it was never the question itself that drove him away from them. it was bound to happen, sooner or later. they could never be you.

you hum. “i see”

as you shift to make yourself more comfortable, you feel the shirt he gave you to wear to bed roll up ever so slightly, revealing the bare of your belly. a bit self-conscious now that he’s next to you, you are immediately urged to cover yourself. you slide a hand under the blanket, rummaging around to get a hold of the hem, but oh...

…the back of your hand brushes against something stiff. the friction incurring a low pant from the man, your best friend, next to you.

“fuck”, satoru hisses. his hand clasps around your wrist, pushing it away, but along with the movement his knuckles graze the flesh of your stomach. “fuck”, he curses again.

“satoru”, you say his name, voice hushed and timid but there is a note of underlying curiosity he is way too familiar with.

this is exactly why he was avoiding the one bed scenario — his boners were too hard to hide at this age and this size of him.

“satoru”, you repeat. “are you hard?”

“i wish you didn’t ask the obvious”, he mumbles, embarrassed. warmth washing over his face uncontrollably, just like in the past. but there was a bigger problem now — down in his pants, and the fact he got caught.

“is it because of me?”

“no”, he clicks his tongue, his grip still tight around your wrist, keeping your hand at bay. “it’s because i didn’t jerk off tonight, you know — it’s a natural thing for us men to randomly pop a boner throughout the day”

…which was true. but it was not the case right now.

“can i play with it a little?”, you ask, sneakily twisting your wrist in an attempt to free your hand.

“oi!”, he yelps. “did you hit you head or what?”

“i am curious”, you blurt out. “just a little?”

“stop”, he warns. “it’s weird”

his resolve is hanging by a thread right now, you’re too cunning to tempt him like this. he knows things will get awfully messy between you if he lets you cross this line. but still, he can’t flat out deny you. deep down he wants you to persist, a little bit more… if you ask him one more time, maybe he’ll crumble. surely, he will.

“it’s not”, you reassure. “i won’t jerk you off, i’ll just touch it”, you explain. “please? just a little?”

well. fuck it.

“this is a bad idea”, he says, but loosens his grip around your wrist. “fine”, he mumbles. “but just a little”

you nod, pulling your hand away only to slide it down his body.

you’re not really sure why you were so happy to hear the news about his break-up, but you always felt more at ease when he belonged just to you. your best friend, and not someone else’s boyfriend. you don’t know why you were doing this right now, or why your heart was racing. maybe because it really was weird? or maybe you were just horny?

finding his cock wasn’t difficult, it sure stood out from the rest of his body.

“you really are hard”, you gasp, running your fingers across the bulge in his shorts, dragging out a throaty groan out of him.

“yeah”, he mumbles. “like i said, stop stating the obvious”

“it’s a bit wet here”, ignoring his words, you thumb the spot where his tip is, making him squirm. his body slightly jerks as you press your palm against it. cupping it inside your hand you squeezing it gently. “it’s warm too”, you keep exploring further. “it has a pulse”

satoru lets out a helpless whine. “you sound so dirty right now, it’s weird”

he’s longed for this type of intimacy with you for years. but in his head, he pictured it differently. it was him who was supposed to do things to you, not the other way around. he was supposed to be the confident one, delving into your layers, making you squirm and fall apart under his touch. not the other way around… but this was good too. too good for him to oppose it. you were his weakness, after all. you always have been. no matter how much he teased and picked on you, in the end he always let you do as you pleased. this was not an exception.

you giggle to yourself. “yeah? you like that new side of me, don’t you?”

“…maybe”

sneaking your hand through the front of his shorts and boxers, you feel the flesh of his cock directly. it was twitching, his tip slick with precum. you put the tip of your index finger on his slit and rub circles around it to smear the pre oozing out of it, getting another soft whimper out of him. the head of his cock all slippery now, urging you to rub it all over the rest of his length.

your fingers wrap around his cock as you start to move your hand up and down, slowly, smearing his own slick onto his own flesh.

he tries to swallow the moan stuck in his throat. “you said you were not going to jerk me off, but what now? you’re playing a bit too much, don’t you think?”

satoru can last long. under normal circumstances, that is. but having you — not just his hand, but you, his first ever love, his only love — touch him like that, he could barely hold back. the urge to bust has been there since the moment you put your hand on his cock.

“why? you gonna cum?”, you slip your hand lower, down to the base of his shaft — where his balls are. you caress them tenderly, incurring yet another soft groan from him, before you go back to stroking him again. with each drag you pick up the pace. the room is filled with the squelching sounds caused by your hand, at this point, confidently fisting his slick covered cock, and his heavy breathing. 

“hey”, he puts his hand on your cheek, softly pinching on it with his fingertips. an attempt to make you snap out of it, but alas — you don’t back away. “don’t regret this”, he whispers, almost beggingly. but his voice comes out too shallow for your ears to pick up on.

“are you close?”, you peek at him, watching his face with rapt fascination, grateful that you left the night lamp on.

never have you ever seen him like this. his cheeks so hot and flushed that his pale skin was lit completely red, up to his ears and his neck. beads of sweat across his forehead with strands of his hair stuck on it. mouth agape — huffing and puffing. his brows knitted, desperately. pleadingly. his mouth telling you to stop, yet his face told a different story. so did the part of him inside your palm. it made you throb, down there, and squeeze your thighs together. your own wetness spurting out from your slit, drenching the inside of your underwear”

“fuck—", he growls. “i am— c-close”, he stutters, struggling to control his breathing and the moans that roll out of his mouth.

you feel his cock twitch in your hand, differently. the pulse on it beating faster and more brashly, like it almost made his skin stretch and push against the flesh of your palm. and then, there was a delay. a few, very short seconds in which his cock stood still before violently exploding, pumping out a thick shot of cum. then some more, and more, and more — until the pouring turned into a light dribble toward the end.

“ugh”, he throatily groans, his body relaxing after oozing all the tension out. although slower now, you keep stroking him, running your fingers across his softening cock.

“oh wow”, you gasp, his cum sticky on your skin, drenching the space between your fingers. “what a mess”, you giggle.

“you’re trouble”, he sighs. “is your curiosity satisfied now?”

you nod.

“if you get curious about other things”, he pauses, scratching the back of his head, “come to me. don’t go to other men”

“i’ll think about it”, you smirk.

after that night, you stayed over for an entire week.

this little play time turned into routine, and you were no longer the only one playing.

[chuluoyi]

i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」

tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”

“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”

“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”

“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”

“i hate you!”

satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”

lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.

gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”

“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?

but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.

“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”

you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”

“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”

“i’m just the container though.”

“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”

truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.

and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.

the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.

and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.

“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.

you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.

“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”

and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.

“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.

you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”

"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”

but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.

a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.

didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.

suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.

would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?

he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.

all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.

when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.

and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.

“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”

“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.

“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

“the baby—”

“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.

“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”

you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—

“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”

[4linos]

empty words pt. 2

hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

synopsis: after hyunjin leaves, you struggle with the pain of betrayal, facing the challenges of being pregnant and alone. you find strength in yourself, determined to raise the child on your own despite the heartbreak.

wc: 3179

[empty words pt. 1]

The air was thick with the weight of unanswered questions, and your mind was swirling with confusion and hurt. The test, now a distant memory hidden in the drawer, seemed irrelevant in the face of everything Hyunjin had said. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of his words, each one carving deeper into your heart. Alone. That was the word that echoed in your mind, a word you never wanted to associate with this moment.

How did it all go wrong so fast? One moment, you thought you were preparing for something beautiful, something that would bring you two closer together. The next, you were left alone in the silence, the empty room echoing your pain.

The thought of facing the future alone with this new life inside you seemed almost unbearable. You had dreamed of a shared path with Hyunjin, of building a family, of holding hands through the uncertainties and joys. But now, it felt like those dreams were slipping through your fingers, disintegrating with every passing second.

The sobs came harder, and your body shook as you held your stomach, your mind racing. You hadn’t planned for this, not like this. Not with the weight of betrayal and abandonment crushing down on you. You couldn’t help but wonder if you should have seen the signs earlier. His distance. His frustration. His sudden coldness.

But in the end, it didn't matter. The reality was now in front of you. Hyunjin had left. He was gone. And you were here, alone in a world that suddenly felt much too big to navigate by yourself.

You wiped your eyes, wiping away the tears that still streamed down your cheeks, your chest tight from the shock of what had just happened. The room around you felt colder, darker, almost as if it were closing in. Your thoughts turned to the test you had hidden in the drawer, which still carried the weight of your anxieties. It was more than just the end of your relationship; it was the start of something new, something you weren't prepared for. A life you didn't believe you could carry on your own.

But you would. You had to. For the little life inside you.

When you heard the sound of his footsteps hesitant, almost unsure you didn’t look up. You refused to. It had been four months. four months of silence, of picking up the pieces alone, of forcing yourself to believe that you’d be okay without him. And you were. At least, you were trying to be.

But hearing him now, standing in the apartment he abandoned, it was like ripping open a wound that had barely begun to heal.

You kept your focus on folding the baby clothes in front of you, smoothing over the soft fabric with shaking hands, pretending you hadn’t noticed his presence. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, heavy with everything left unsaid.

Hyunjin stood frozen by the door, his breath caught in his throat. He had no idea what he was expecting when he came back. Maybe he thought you’d still be the same, that time hadn’t moved forward without him. But seeing you now your face calmer, but somehow more exhausted, the way you carried yourself as if you were forcing strength into every step, and most of all, the undeniable curve of your belly he realized he had no idea who you had become in his absence.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. His eyes were fixed on you, or rather, on the life growing inside you. His child. His mind reeled, grasping for an explanation, a way to understand why you hadn’t told him. But as his gaze flickered back up to your face, the answer became painfully clear.

He had left.

You didn’t owe him anything.

And yet, he couldn’t stop the storm brewing inside him, the overwhelming mix of emotions crashing down on him all at once guilt, regret, shock.

"Are you—" His voice cracked, the first sound he’d made, but you cut him off before he could even finish.

"It doesn’t matter." Your voice was steady, sharper than he remembered. "You’re not part of this, Hyunjin."

His chest ached at the way you said his name, so distant, so indifferent. Like he was nothing more than a stranger. He took a hesitant step forward, but you didn’t flinch. You didn’t even look at him.

"You weren’t supposed to find out," you continued, folding another tiny onesie with meticulous care. "And honestly, I don’t know why you’re here, but if it’s just to satisfy your curiosity, then you can leave. Again."

Hyunjin flinched. He deserved that. He deserved worse.

"I—" He ran a shaky hand through his hair, struggling to find something anything to say that could make this even remotely better.

But what could he possibly say?

I’m sorry?

Those words felt so small, so insignificant compared to what he had done.

I didn’t know?

Of course, he didn’t. He hadn’t been around to know.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

You let out a bitter laugh, finally looking up at him. "You made yourself perfectly clear, Hyunjin. You didn’t want me. You didn’t want this.” Your hand instinctively cradled your stomach, and the sight of it made his heart clench painfully. "I wasn’t going to beg you to stay. I wasn’t going to trap you with a baby you didn’t want.”

His eyes widened in horror. "I—"

"But it doesn’t matter anymore," you cut him off again, turning away from him. "I’ve accepted it. I’m doing this alone. And I’m okay with that."

Hyunjin took another step forward, desperation creeping into his voice. "But I—"

"You should go." The words were final, dismissive.

He hesitated, every instinct in his body screaming at him to fight, to say something, to make this right. But how could he?

He had left you. Alone.

And now, standing here, watching you turn your back on him, he realized…

Maybe this time, you were the one leaving him.

You had already made peace with the fact that you were doing this alone. You had spent months picking yourself up, forcing yourself to move forward, and now, just as you were finally starting to feel like you could handle this, he had the audacity to show up. And for what? To act like he cared?

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was far from indifferent. From the moment he saw your belly, something in him snapped back into place. It seemed as if the months had not passed. He began showing up unannounced, uninvited, and way too often. Sometimes he didn't even knock. He'd just let himself in, carrying bags of snacks, drinks, and other things he knew you loved, as if he was making up for missed time with tiny gestures.

At first, you assumed it was a one-time thing. That maybe, after seeing you pregnant, he just needed to mentally process it. But eventually it became a habit.

He started helping around the house without asking. Dishes? He’d wash them before you could get to them. Laundry? He was folding your clothes like he lived there. Groceries? He stocked your fridge before you even had a chance to make a list. At first, it was… fine. But as the days passed, it became suffocating.

Because you had already learned how to do this on your own. You had already spent months figuring it out, struggling through the exhaustion and the loneliness, only to come out stronger. And now? Now he was here, suddenly deciding he wanted to help? Like you hadn’t cried yourself to sleep thinking about how much easier it would’ve been if he had just stayed in the first place?

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t thoughtful. It was annoying.

"Hyunjin, stop." You snapped one evening as he reached for the dishes in the sink.

He blinked, surprised. "What? I’m just—"

"You’re in my way." Your voice was sharp, but you didn’t care. You crossed your arms, staring at him as frustration bubbled inside you. "I don’t need you to do that. I don’t need you to do anything. I’ve been fine on my own. I’m fine on my own."

Hyunjin flinched at your words, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he let out a small sigh, his jaw tightening. "I just want to help."

"Well, I don’t need your help," you shot back. "You don’t get to walk out on me and then come back when it’s convenient for you. That’s not how this works, Hyunjin."

For the first time since he started showing up, he was silent. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. And for a moment, you saw something flicker in his eyes regret, guilt, something deeper than the usual stubbornness. But you didn’t let yourself think too much about it.

Because it was too late for him to start caring now.

Hyunjin stood there, his fingers tightening around the edge of the counter, his gaze flickering between you and the dishes in the sink. You could see the frustration in his eyes, the way he clenched his jaw like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice was quieter than before, but there was an edge to it, something raw and unfiltered. “That I don’t deserve to be here? That I don’t have the right to just—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “But I want to be here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Your hands curled into fists at your sides. “That’s not your decision to make.”

Hyunjin let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Yeah? Then tell me to leave.”

You opened your mouth, prepared to do exactly that. Ready to tell him to go and never come back. But the words wouldn't come. Because, as much as you wanted to drive him away, as much as you despised the fact that he felt he could just come back and reinsert himself into your life, a small, bitter part of you still wanted him to stay.

And he knew it.

Hyunjin took a slow step forward, watching your reaction carefully. “I messed up,” he admitted, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “I know I did. And I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I’m here. I’m not trying to take over your lifeI just want to be in it.” His gaze flickered downward, toward your stomach. “Their life.”

Your throat tightened. “You don’t get to just decide that.”

“I know,” he said, and for the first time, there was no defensiveness in his voice. Just quiet, aching sincerity. “But I’m still going to try.”

The air between you was thick, suffocating. You didn’t know what to say what you could say. Because you had spent months trying to convince yourself you didn’t need him. That you were fine on your own. And maybe you were.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want him.

And that was the worst part of all.

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the counter's edge as you tried to ground yourself. You felt infuriated and annoyed but there was something else underneath it all. Something that scared you.

Hope.

Hyunjin stood there, waiting, his gaze locked onto you like he was afraid that if he so much as blinked, you’d disappear. And maybe that’s why you hated this so much. Because you had spent so long trying to convince yourself that he had disappeared. That he was gone, that you were doing fine without him.

But now he was here.

And he wasn’t leaving.

You sighed, running a hand over your face. “I don’t know what you want from me, Hyunjin.” Your voice was quieter now, less sharp but just as exhausted. “You left. You broke me. And now you’re back, acting like you can just fix everything by showing up with snacks and helping me clean.”

He flinched at your words, but you didn’t stop.

“I don’t need your help,” you continued, your voice shaking slightly. “I’ve been doing just fine without you.”

Hyunjin swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I know,” he admitted. “I know you don’t need me. But I need you.”

The words knocked the air out of your lungs. You stared at him, blinking rapidly, trying to process what he just said.

“I was scared,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I was an idiot. I thought leaving would be easier than facing my own fears. But I was wrong.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “Every single day, I regretted walking out that door. And now, seeing you, seeing them, I can’t just pretend like I don’t want this.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, loud and insistent. But you couldn’t just let yourself believe him. Not yet.

“You left me,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “You left when I needed you the most.”

Hyunjin took another step forward, his hands hesitating at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you but knew he didn’t have the right to. “And I hate myself for it,” he murmured. “But please… let me try to make it right.”

The room felt too small, too suffocating. You turned away from him, pressing a hand to your stomach as if that could steady you. You felt his gaze on you, waiting, hoping.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you spoke.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

Hyunjin nodded, exhaling shakily. “Then I’ll prove to you that you can.”

You didn’t respond. Because part of you wanted to believe him.

And that scared you more than anything.

The silence that followed his words hung in the air like a heavy cloud. You could feel your pulse thrumming in your ears, the weight of everything the hurt, the anger, the longing crashing over you all at once. Your fingers trembled as you tried to calm yourself, but it felt like trying to hold back an ocean with your bare hands.

Hyunjin was still standing there, eyes locked on you, as if every breath he took depended on the next words you would say. You could see the desperation in his gaze, the vulnerability that had never been there before, and for a moment, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

But then reality hit, sharp and unrelenting. He had left you. And you had survived. You had found your strength, rebuilt your world, and you weren’t sure if you could let him back in again.

Your voice, when it finally came, was quieter than you expected. “You hurt me, Hyunjin. You broke me. And you can’t just waltz back in and expect everything to be okay.” You took a shaky breath. “I’m not some prize to be won back. I’m not a mistake you can undo.”

He flinched at your words, but there was no defensiveness, no argument. Just the raw weight of regret and guilt that seemed to drown out everything else.

"I know," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that. I’m not asking for that. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you I can be better. For you. For them. For us."

You could feel the battle waging inside you. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him to leave and never come back. Another part, the part you hated, was desperate to reach out and let him in. To let him fix the broken pieces, to let him try.

But you weren’t the same person you had been four months ago. You were stronger now. You had learned to stand on your own. And you weren’t about to let him erase all that growth with a few apologies and empty promises.

"I’m not asking you to be perfect," you said, finally turning back to face him, "but I can’t keep living like this. We can’t keep living like this."

Hyunjin looked at you, and for a brief moment, you recognized the boy you had once known, the one who had laughed with you under the stars and held your hand as if it were the most important thing in the world. But that was a lifetime ago. You had grown out of that version of him. Now you had to consider whether you could make place for the man standing in front of you.

"I'm not asking you to make room for me," he added as if he knew what you were thinking. "Please let me try. To try to prove to you that I can be the guy you need, the dad they need. Not just for a week or a

The sincerity in his voice cracked something inside you. The hope, the fear, the longing it all swirled together, and you felt the first stirrings of something you had buried deep down: the desire for a future with him. A future you weren’t sure you could ever have, but the idea of it was impossible to ignore.

You closed your eyes, swallowing hard, trying to steady yourself. "I don’t know if I can trust you again, Hyunjin. I don’t know if I can let myself need you again."

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t move. He didn’t try to convince you with more words, more empty gestures. He simply nodded, as if he understood that this was not something he could fix with promises. This was something he had to show you, every single day.

"I’ll prove it," he said, the weight of his words pressing down on both of you. "But I need you to give me a chance."

You stood there for a long moment, torn between the part of you that wanted to push him away and the part of you that ached for him to stay. It felt like the hardest decision of your life.

Finally, you let out a slow breath. "You’re right," you whispered. "You don’t deserve forgiveness. But maybe you deserve a chance to earn it."

Hyunjin’s face softened, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t a victory smile, not yet. But it was the first step.

"I’ll take it," he said quietly.

And for the first time in months, you felt like maybe just maybe things could be okay again. But you weren’t ready to give him everything yet. Not right now. But you could allow him to stay. To try.

You nodded, your voice low but firm. "Then prove it, Hyunjin. Prove it to me. Prove it to them."

He stepped forward, slowly, cautiously, as if testing the ground beneath him. His hand hovered for a moment, unsure of how far to go, but when he finally reached for you, you didn’t pull away.

It wasn’t forgiveness yet. Not even close. But it was a beginning.

And sometimes, a beginning was all you needed.

//

masterlist.

[taglist: @ka0ila..]

[illbegottenfaith]

the one where theo asks you out to a wedding

exes to lovers

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

In his defence, Theo landed on your doorstep only after he had exhausted all other options. He took in a deep breath, steeling his nerves, and knocked. After a minute or two, he heard the patter of hurried footsteps and the door swung open.

"Hey."

Your face looked a little less round, perhaps. Your hair was shorter than he remembered, but your eyes looked just as sweet and forgiving as they always did. Only now

"Hey."

No open hostility. Theo could work with that. He was starting to feel a little hot in his suit. He scratched the back of his neck. Your eyes narrowed at the action.

"What do you want?"

Theo coughed awkwardly.

"Why do you just assume I want something?"

The corner of your lip quirked up.

"I dated you for years, Theodore. I think I know when you want something."

He took a deep breath and stuck his hands into his pockets, glancing at the door as he struggled to meet your eye. He should have brought flowers or something. Merlin, what was so nerve-wracking about talking to you? He did it plenty enough, once upon a time.

"I...need a favour."

"I figured."

Theo wished you'd stop staring at him so plainly. Instead, you leaned against the doorframe, tilting your head up at him while you patiently waited for him to spit out whatever he had to say.

"Mattheo's getting married," he blurted out.

Instantly, your face softened. Theo felt a pang of guilt somewhere deep inside his gut. When the two of you were dating, you always had a soft spot for Mattheo, as did he for you. In fact, he seemed more heartbroken than Theo after the breakup. But the fact remained that he, like a lot of your mutual friends, knew Theo before you, and so his social circle remained somewhat intact while you faded into oblivion.

He hadn't thought twice about it at the time, but seeing your face light up made him realise that this must be the first you had heard about any of your old friends since graduation. He had never meant to tear you away from friends who were every bit yours as they were his.

Then again, he had never wanted to break up with you in the first place.

Your lips curved into a familiar smile that tugged at something inside his chest.

"That's...wow. I'm so happy for him. That's incredible."

"It is. I'm the best man."

"I should hope so. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

Another painful silence drew out between the two of you. Theo stared at his palm uncomfortably.

"I need a date," he forced out.

You looked unimpressed.

"And? None of your model girlfriends can make it?"

Theo had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"I'm sick of - they're not my girlfriends."

"Right," you drawled, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Too famous to be tied down, are we?"

Theo pulled at the knot of his tie desperately. He didn't remember you being this frustrating.

"I don't want to take any of them."

You shrugged. "Then go solo."

"C'mon, Y/N. Everyone's bringing a plus one."

You leaned towards him with a sardonic smile.

"That's the wonderful thing about not being your girlfriend anymore. Not. My. Problem. Bye now."

Theo jammed his foot in as you unsuccessfully tried to close the door.

"I'll pay you."

You laughed incredulously. "You can't be serious."

It had been a long shot, but he was running out of ideas. He dragged a hand through his hair.

"What do you want?" What did you want? "More attention? More gifts? I'll pay for your dress. I'll buy you dinner."

"Careful, or I'll think this is an actual date."

"Please, Y/N," he started saying before his brain could catch up. "We used to be so good together."

Your eyes darkened. You bit the inside of your cheek.

"What happened?"

You folded your arms, your eyes gleaming in the dusk that had settled around the two of you. You shook your head almost helplessly.

"I don't know. You were...you were great. I loved you. You loved me. You started playing Quidditch. You got good." Your pressed your lips into a thin line. "Then you got mean."

Theo scoffed half-heartedly. "Look, I didn't -"

"You stopped listening to me, Teddy," you interrupted.

That shut him up. He didn't know what to say. You didn't sound upset or even angry. Just hollow and a little disappointed.

You took the invitation Theo had been loosely holding and scanned the details.

"What the hell," you muttered. "Sure. Why not?"

Theo blinked a few times. As hard as he had tried to persuade you, he hadn't expected you to actually agree.

"Really?"

He looked so earnest, you couldn't help yourself. You rolled your eyes almost affectionately.

"Keep your wallet away. I'll foot the bill for my dress."

"No - please, let m- "

There, in the dim twilight, with the salty evening air stinging your faces, you cut him off with a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Night, Teddy," you murmured.

This time, he didn't try to stop you as you shut the door.

[tragedybunny]

My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader

Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.

“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.

There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.

Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.

“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.

“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.

“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.

“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”

The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.

Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.

With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."

It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.

The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.

"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.

“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.

An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.

“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.

Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.

That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”

A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.

“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Astarion…”

He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”

Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.

“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”

“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”

With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”

[wild-rise]

Sunshine

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut MDNI 18+

Summary: After a stressful day and years of animosity between you and Daryl the dynamics of your power struggle finally gets resolved. Safe to say you're finally put in your place.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Reader is a brat, Soft!Dom Daryl, Kinda mean Daryl, Teasing, Oral (M!receiving) Face F!cking, Binding (Readers wrists), Dirty Talk, Pervy Daryl, Thigh Riding, Just the t!p, P in V penetration, unprotected (Wrap it before you tap it folks), creampie. I think that's it...

“How ‘bout runnin’ that by me one more time sunshine?” Daryl gruffs out cocking his head to you making sure he wasn’t going crazy because there’s no way in hell you just said what he thinks you did.

“Your hearing going out now Dixon?” Just before you reach the door of his room you turn to face him again, invading his space, craning your head up to make sure the message gets through his thick skull this time.

 “Fuck. You. You redneck piece of shit.” The words cutting like knives as they roll off your tongue. Daryl holds his composure as he looks down at you and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“If you want to so bad all ya have to do is ask nicely.” That same smirk dancing on his lips. He made every nerve in your body boil till you only saw red. Daryl knew how to push every single button to set you off and get under your skin.

Without warning Daryl’s face is hit with your saliva “Fucking pig.” You’re seething at this point and now any hint of playfulness in Daryl’s features is gone. You turn on your heels to leave when suddenly his large hand wraps around your arm pulling you back to his hard chest.

“You’re a goddamn bitch ya know that?” Daryl practically growls the words at you as he wipes the spit off his face with the back of his hand.

“No. You’re just an inconsiderate asshat that’s just looking out for himself like always.” The venom of your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl as he holds you close noticing the heat radiating off your skin and your scent invading his senses.

“I’m the only reason you’re alive right now so if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you drop it, Sunshine.” That stupid nickname he gave you back on the farm had its way of making a shit situation even shittier and Daryl knew, that’s why he made sure to draw out each syllable.

There can never be a civil interaction between the two of you. You’ve been together for so long, but the animosity never faded. Rick even tried locking you both in a cell together at the prison but after three hours of arguing he let both of you out and go separate ways. No one bothered to intervene and after that your relationship simply stayed stagnant.  

Right now, as much as it pained you he was right. The only reason you’re standing here is because he followed you on your hunt which turned sour when your kill was taken by walkers. The loss made you unhinged, being the final straw to break your back after all the tragedy your community suffered after the whispers. You went on dropping body after body till you were starting to get outnumbered, but your stubbornness never let up. Daryl noticing your struggle and intervened before you could get hurt but to his surprise you turned your rage towards him before storming off back to Alexandira.

Bringing you back here telling off Daryl for being… helpful? Honestly the stress of everything you’ve endured and the loss the community has suffered is getting to you and you need a release, and Daryl is the only one who can take it.

Taking a deep breath as you hold eye contact with him you’re finally registering just how close the two of you are. His breath fanning over your face, hand still holding tightly to your arm and that’s when the intrusive ideas locked away in the deepest parts of your mind finally come to light. “And what exactly is best for me Daryl? Hm? Please do tell.” Your voice is barely above a whisper now.

 “Is that you askin nicely?” he says watching the shift in your demeanor and matching your tone.

“Don’t push it Dixon.” The sternness in your voice lacking conviction and Daryl decided then what he was going to do with you.

He brings his other hand up to your face cupping your check and leaning down just about to kiss you when “Ask nicely. Sunshine.” He says right on your lips. How could he be even more frustrating, especially at a time like this. “Tell me what’s best for me. Please.” Sarcasm dripping on your every word. The fire in you is impossible to extinguish and honestly, it’s what Daryl loves about you so much and he’d die before he ever saw it put out but right now it needs to desperately be controlled.

“How bout ya let me show you.” And as quickly as the words fall from his mouth, he’s pressing his lips to yours. His actions are filled with hunger and desire as a mixture of saliva form between you. Your hands come up to find purchase on his broad shoulders as he deepens the kiss exploring every inch of your mouth. “Get on your knees. Now” the words going straight to your cunt but the brat in you can’t help but be defiant. “Ask nicely.” You mock him and the hand cupping your cheek travels to the back of your head grasping your hair tightly and dragging you down to your knees. “You just don’t know when to fuckin quit do ya? That shit stops now you understand?” The tenderness on your scalp stings from his grip but you welcome the sensation as a soft whimper leaves you confirming Daryl’s suspicion.

You wanted someone to put you in your place and take control. You didn’t want to have to think just do what you’re told and feel something other than the suffering you’ve endured.

“That so hard? Now, can you get my belt off or do ya need help with that too?” Realizing your predicament, you reach your hands up to undo his belt and pull down his zipper. Daryl releases his hand from your hair before pulling his belt off through the loops of his pants. “Hands behind your back.” Doing exactly what he says Daryl comes behind you tying your hands behind your back with his belt. Anticipation floods your body as Daryl stands back in front of you pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. The angry red tip directly in your face leaking precum and begging for a release. He was bigger than you imagined and the thought of him ramming your throat made your panties even more wet than before.

“Open up sunshine.” Lolling your tongue out Daryl slowly pushes his cock past your lips a little at a time allowing you to get comfortable with the position. Once you get a steady rhythm of sucking and licking his length Daryl’s hands return to your hair pulling you off him.

“Should’ve known cock would shut you up.” Daryl groans as he slides back into the warmness of your mouth. The sounds he made were almost heavenly enough to distract you from the pain in the back of your throat... almost. Your pace is quickly abandoned as Daryl starts bucking his hips in your face stuffing your throat full of his cock. Tears stream down your cheeks and the pressure from his belt straining on your wrists start to make your head dizzy and you can hardly breathe. “Fucking hell sunshine your takin me so well.” Daryl stops holding your head at the base of his dick till you start squirming from the lack of oxygen and he pulls you off completely. Taking a gasp of air trying to regain composure, you whine when he hoists you back up onto your feet.

“You gonna stop being a bitch or should I just let you finish sucking my dick and leave you here to take care of yourself?” He asks in such a kind way, but his actions moments ago were anything but. “I’ll stop. Promise, please Daryl.” You cry at him just needing something more as the desire grew within you. “Good girl. See I knew you had it in you.” He takes his belt off your wrists and has the rest of your garments following suit. Daryl guides you to lie on his bed and the vulnerable feeling of being completely exposed while he’s still fully dressed has your cheeks burning red. Daryl bends down to pick up your soaked panties, bring them to his face and takes a deep breath before shoving them in his back pocket. “Constellation prize.” He winks at you as you moan desperate for him to do anything to you.

“Are you going to actually touch me or just keep being a perv?” You groan at him as he pulls off his clothes joining you on his bed. “Just takin my time, don’t be so impatient.” You want to cry from the pressure building up at your cunt. Daryl could tell how needy you were from how much you’ve been pressing your thighs together chasing any type of satisfaction. Caging you between his forearms he slots a leg between yours adding pressure to your long awaiting cunt. Your arousal is prominent enough to leave remanence behind on his leg, but he doesn’t move. “Go on, hump my leg like the bitch you are.” His words hushed into your ear make the tears come back to your eyes. He was being so mean, and it was turning you on so much. With a strangled moan you started dragging your hips up and down, rubbing against his leg as he marked up and down your neck and chest leaving a path of hickeys and bruises. Your hips started bucking faster as you felt that familiar sensation of your approaching orgasm but just as you were about to let go Daryl pulls his thigh away from you.

“Daryl please I’m s-so ssorry I’ll be nice I’ll do whatever you want just plea-please make me cum.” You were a sight to behold, so worked up and desperate just for him and oh how he loved it. “Since you asked so nicely.” He leans down to give you a kiss but this time it was different. This time it lacked primal urgency from before, it was tender and attentive.

Now Daryl had your legs on either side of him as he lined his cock up with your dripping, aching pussy. He slowly pushed just the tip and watched your greedy cunt try to suck him in some more and your sobbing persisted. He leaned down peppering kisses along your jaw, shushing you trying to calm you down. “Next time I won’t be so harsh on ya if you use your manners, Sunshine.” Is all he whispers in your ear before sitting back up and ramming his entire length in you bottoming out.

Your cries and moans are so loud he’s pretty sure someone’s going to come down thinking you’re in danger, but he could care less because the sounds you’re making right now are music to his ears. The way he’s pressing your legs apart sends a burn through your thighs and your breasts are bouncing at the rhythm of his thrusts. “Doing so fuckin good for me f-fuck this pussy’s just suckin me in S-Sunshine.” His tough guy act falters as he speeds up his pace. Daryl quickly puts your legs onto his shoulders allowing him to hit that one spot deep in your body that has you seeing stars.

“Oh, fuck Daryl yes, yes right there oh my god please d-don’t stop.”  You cry out begging him for your release. "Wasn't plannin' on it. Fuck it's like this pussy was made for me." Daryl keeps up the same pace and brings a hand down rubbing tight circles on your clit. The added stimulation is enough to send you over the edge moaning Daryl’s name over and over again. The spasming of your cunt has him losing the fight of holding off his orgasm as he finishes deep inside you. “Fucking take it. F-fuck take it all.” He says while he delivers the final thrusts riding out both of your highs.

    Daryl rolls over, bringing you into his chest and caresses your hair while you both try to catch your breath. “What do you say? Hm?”

You look up at him through your lashes and taking in his disheveled appearance you realize this is a sight you could easily get used too.  “Thank you. Daryl.” Your voice is hoarse from the amount of screaming and moaning he pulled from you which sparked pride to flood through his chest.

“You are very welcome, Sunshine.” He feels content finally taming your fire as he traces patterns on your back while you slowly drift off to sleep.

[steddieas-shegoes]

AU where Steve has decent parents. They aren’t great, but they’re not bad. They show up for major things and tell him they love him, but they don’t understand him. They don’t get that he needs more than that.

So Steve’s nanny keeps in contact with him even after she’s let go because “Steve doesn’t need looking after” at the age of 10. She checks in with him all the time.

Ms. Munson is always bringing him a dish from her own dinner with her brother and son, making sure he has someone at the awards days at school, makes sure he has gifts at Christmas that he’ll actually like.

But she never invites him to her home and it doesn’t hit him until his senior year of high school that she’s Eddie Munson’s mom, that they live in the trailer park that he was never allowed to go to, that her brother must be Wayne, who took him fishing once when he got his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

He’s a different person now, but not to Eddie.

As time goes on, and he experiences more trauma than any single person should, and he gets Robin as a platonic soulmate, he realizes that Ms. Munson still shows up. His parents don’t bother much anymore, but she does.

And two days before spring break of ‘86, she sends Eddie to Steve’s house with a care package.

When Steve shuffles through the items, he nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds a bag of pre-rolled joints.

Eddie comes up with excuses, brushes it off as just a friendly gesture for someone his mom cares so much about.

But Steve won’t hear it. He asks him to stay and smoke one with him, take the edge off since he’s been dealing with midterms.

They get high on his back patio, talking and laughing late into the night, so late that Eddie almost worries he’ll have to go to school in his clothes from the day before.

Steve won’t hear it, offers his shower and his “most metal” clothes- his only black jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off- and says he can sleep there for the couple of hours left before school.

Eddie wakes up to Steve making coffee and toast, using the jam his mom had included in the care package and a smile that made Eddie’s cynical heart flop in his chest.

Eddie didn’t think the next time he saw Steve would be when he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, terrified of everything and everyone, but the moment they had a second alone, Steve hugged him close.

“It’s a shit way to be welcomed into the group officially, but I’m glad you’re not alone.”

Steve and Eddie were inseparable while fighting Vecna, both of them insistent on protecting the kids.

When Steve managed to get Eddie to the motel the Munsons were staying in after El managed to get rid of Vecna, Ms. Munson was standing at the door with tears in her eyes.

“My boys.”

She patched them up, better than any doctor probably would have, giving them small kisses on the head when they winced in pain.

And eventually, she tucked them into one of the beds in the room, ignoring how they hadn’t stopped holding hands for the entire night.

She’d been hesitant to introduce them; Eddie, for all his talk of accepting people for who they are, struggled to accept how much she did for Steve, not understanding why he may need it.

But it seemed like she didn’t need to force anything. They found their way together in the end.

[leyavo]

Not the same

Soap x ex Medic/Soldier!reader

Summary: Johnny can’t help, but notice how different things are since you returned to the base and joined a different department. An op that nearly cost you your life has left you having to deal with an injury for life.

Hurt/angst/comfort [Masterlist]

Johnny Mactavish stared at the release papers on the desk, your signature scrawled along the dotted line. He sucked in a breath, gaze sweeping the locked room of the Armoury.

Empty, but that’s to be expected late at night. The same greying man behind the glass booth, sliding papers and weapons through the box to give them back to their owners.

You however were nowhere to be found.

Johnny knew something was off, the way Gaz offered to hand in the broken rifle and sign it in, on his behalf. How Price had enrolled him in more specialised training to fill his free time and Ghost, quite literally living up to his name and not being seen.

He wondered how long you’d been at the same base, tucked away from the same corridors you used to walk down together a few years ago.

It had been two years since you’d left him, no warning. Just a letter pinned to the fridge, short and to the point. I can’t do this anymore, sorry. He still has it buried at the back of his drawer, as if one day he’ll figure out why you really left.

He knows the last voluntary medic op nearly cost you your life. Hell he remembers watching you get wheeled through to the infirmary and how helpless he felt when he couldn’t ease your pain.

Johnny tried not to think about that day. It’s been two years, you’re both different people and he’s more than satisfied to leave all that in the past. Even you. Well that’s what he’s trying to tell himself.

So Johnny finds himself searching for you wherever he goes. Wonders if you’ve ever seen him from a distance and chose to avoid him.

It’s not till weeks later, does Johnny see you for the first time. You’re talking to Price, opening cases of ammo and weapons for their mission. Making a note of all the contents and numbering the supplies for them to take out with them.

The right side of your neck and jaw marred by puckered skin. A small chunk missing out of the top of your ear. He notes that you appear healthy, colour to your face that wasn’t there before you left. A smile playing on your lips as Price slips a dad joke into the conversation.

It’s been a long time since Johnny’s seen that smile. Even longer since it’s been directed at him.

“Approach her from the left,” Ghost said, clapping the back of his shoulder. “No hearing in her right ear.” He joins the captain and you, offering you a handshake and rolling his mask to rest over his nose.

So you never did get your hearing back, he wonders if that’s why you left. Your gaze dropping to their lips straight after greeting Ghost and Gaz.

And then those eyes fall on him.

“Mactavish.” You nod, fingers fumbling over the clasp of the last tactical box.

His chest aches, stomach twists at the short and clipped tone you use for him. No johnny, no Soap and definitely no more eye contact. Lips pressed in a tight line, brows furrowed as you struggled to shut the box.

He reminds himself that you’re not his anymore, not meant to take it to heart, but he does.

A German shepherd’s by your side, fur raised at the back of its neck as Johnny closes the distance. You’re none the wiser though, can’t hear the low growls until the dog pushes between your legs and nudges your thigh on the left.

Johnny approaching you on your right, too distracted by your presence that he forgot you wouldn’t hear his footsteps.

He doesn’t even think, it’s second nature for him to sweep in and ease the tension, palm on your back before he even realises what he’s doing.

You still under his touch, rolling your shoulders and slipping away from him, dog at your heels as you exit the room with not so much a glance in his direction. A nod to the captain and then you were gone.

Johnny lies awake at night thinking about how you’re stranger to him. He tries to ask the guys if they talk to you and if you’re okay, but he’s given the same answer. Why don’t you just ask her. That’s not his place anymore though.

The second time he sees you, you’re on the other side of the armoury. Picking apart a pistol and cleaning it on the table. The dull hum of your favourite band playing on the radio, that you’re unaware of the guy trying to talk to you.

Johnny notices though, notices how unbalanced your world is now. How even the simplest of interactions hold your whole attention, as if you have to piece it all together like a puzzle.

Ghost said that you’re still getting used to hearing from one ear and even then it’s still slightly muffled for you. A reason why you focus on people’s lips incase you can’t quite make out what they’re saying.

The guy next to you growing impatient, he rounds the table and chucks his hand gun on your work station.

“Are you fucking listening to me?”

You flinch, pistol clanging to the floor. Johnny’s halfway across the armoury, but Ghost’s beat him to it. The man’s face pressed up against the clear booth, breath fogging the glass.

Ghost taps the sign where the guy’s face is squished up against, “read next time dick head.” He shoves the guy away and gives him his gun back, telling him to come back tomorrow.

The hard of hearing sign in the bottom corner, for you and the old man that work there.

You’ve been spending more time with Ghost lately, he’s been taking the dog around the base to familiarise him with the place whilst you sit at your workstation most of the day.

The thought of you with someone else makes Johnny sick to his stomach, but you’re not his he reminds himself as he leaves Ghost to console you.

The third time Johnny sees you it’s on his own accord. He heard about the faulty flash bang grenade that went off in the armoury and he’s rushing to the infirmary.

Only to be told you’ve returned to your workstation. It can’t hurt to check on you? All he wants is to see if you’re okay.

It’s late, you’ve taken over the old man’s shift as he covered for you whilst you were getting checked out.

You’re standing in the middle of the armoury, staring at the marks on the floor. There’s something in the way you hold yourself, that makes him walk to you. Your arms folded over your chest, fingers digging into your biceps.

You seem so small, a shell of the person he knew and still loves.

He doesn’t hesitate, his arms wrapping your trembling form. Palm smoothing the side of your arm, letting you lean against him.

The familiar warmth spreading through his chest. The way your head tucks under his chin and your cheek against his chest. Your hands twisting in the fabric of his hoody, trying to pull him closer.

Johnny knows more than anyone what it’s like to witness the destruction of an explosion. It shook yours and his whole foundation, tearing you apart in a blink of an eye.

The nurse warned him, your hearing might be affected from the bang and it’ll take a few days to go back to normal.

That’s nothing compared to what it could possibly trigger for you though, he remembers how every little loud noise at home caused you to spiral. All the nights he held you, reassuring you that you were safe and that the roof wasn’t caving in on top of you. Hearing you run the cold tap at night as you tried to soothe the itchiness of the burns on your flesh.

He doesn’t waste his words, just holds you knowing that you needed him to ground you. Needed the weight to bring you back from wherever you’d gone.

And you let him.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

I'm having a shit day, I need Quinn to fix it

Please and thanks

cw: injury description

Rain, rain, go away, come again...when you didn't have a hundred errands to run and were short on time to do them. Naturally, it would pour the entire time you were out and about, and your umbrella had decided to break the first time you went to use it. It really set the tone for the rest of the day; a terrible foreshadowing you had hoped wouldn't be the case.

The only reason you were out running those errands in the first place was because you had taken the day off to make sure everything was nice for when Quinn got back home. You knew he was going to be exhausted after finishing another six straight games on the road. Plus, you wanted to enjoy the evening with him knowing nothing would be looming in the back of your mind that would take away from your time together. However, since the minute you got up it was like everything was stacked against you. You had slept through your alarm, getting up almost two hours later than you had intended. You thought you had plugged in your phone but hadn't make a proper connection so your battery was at 12% to start the day. And to add insult to injury (literally), you had dropped a glass while in the kitchen and had cut your hand while trying to pick up the pieces.

Today was proving to be one of those days that were best spent at home, but unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case for you. By this point, your phone was now sitting at 6%, because you realized, after you had left the parking garage, that the charger you left in your car was in Quinn's. You just hoped it would hold on long enough to get you home.

You would be stopped at a red light, mid rush hour, when a message would ding in. It was Quinn and the dreaded text you didn't want to come across your phone until you were already back at his apartment.

"Hey baby, we just touched down. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"I might not be there when you get home. Stuck in traffic. </3 I love you, too. <3 <3 Also, phone is about dead. >:("

"Just be careful. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

- - -

Getting everything out of the car had been hard enough, but carrying them with your cut palm was the worst. Being half asleep and dealing with broken glass was not a good combination, something you would note for the future. Sure, you couldn't have texted Quinn to see if he would help you, which you knew he would have, but you were determined to get it done yourself.

When you stepped into the elevator, from the parking garage, all you could think of was "please don't break down. I do not want to walk up the stairs. I do not want to be trapped in an elevator with a dead phone." Thinking it was a bad idea to put such thoughts into the Universe, you'd just count floors instead until you reached Quinn's.

It was a struggle to unlock the door but you had managed though your hand was burning and you were pretty sure you were bleeding again. Just something else that would get tended to later. Once inside, you'd drop everything at the door and Quinn would come from the bedroom to greet you.

"Oh sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were downstairs? I would have helped you with all of this." He wrapped his arms around you and you melt into his body. "I have missed you so much."

"I'm so glad you're home." All of a sudden and without warning, you begin to cry. Likely a culmination of trash sleep, stress, no food, and pain. Your body and emotions were just fried; not to mention you hated when he was gone for so long.

"What's wrong, baby?" Quinn would say softly, gently tightening his hold on you. "Are you alright?" Anytime you were having a rough day, he was the first person to notice and always did everything he could to make you feel better.

"No," you said, hiding your face in his neck. You weren't ready to have him see how much you were struggling.

"Why don't you go sit, hmm? I'll get this."

"I wanted to have everything done for you but today has been awful."

Quinn pulls away from you just enough to tip your chin up towards his face. You can't escape him now and the look on your face makes his puppy eyes heavy with emotion. "Oh, baby~"

He kisses you several times, each one of them sweeter than the last, yet the tears still continue to fall from your cheeks. "Come on, this stuff can wait."

Taking your non-bandaged hand, he ushers you to the sofa where he insists you sit in his lap so you can be as close to him as possible. You loved moments like these just on better circumstances than today had given you.

"Baby, you're bleeding. What happened?"

You had reached up to brush some hair from your eyes when he caught sight of the bandage now tinged bright red in the center. You dropped your hand to your leg and shook your head. "It's nothing. Just a clumsy accident."

"Let me see."

You refuse, sniffling and trying to hold back the welling tears.

"Please?"

Damn those eyes of his; damn the tone of his voice that just took your breath away. You could never truly tell him no and this was no different. You'd turn your palm upwards when you presented it to him, scared it was worse that you thought it was initially.

"May I look at it?"

You just nod, before laying your head against his shoulder. You didn't want to see it and you knew him pulling back the adhesive of the bandage was going to hurt, even though he had the softest touch.

Quinn was always so careful with you; always asking for permission especially if it would potentially cause you pain. Slowly he'd remove the bandage and you would wince against the discomfort even though he did everything he could to make it easy on you. "How did this happen?"

Quinn's tone conveyed deep worry and hurt and that didn't give you the reassurance you were hoping for.

"This morning. I got up late, and was half asleep taking my vitamins and I guess my hand just stopped working and I dropped it. It shattered everywhere. I didn't realize I had grabbed the raw edge until it was too late and I cut myself."

"Oh sweetheart," Quinn whispered laying his head against yours. "Want me to fix you up?"

"I'll get it."

"Please?"

Twice now, he had used that word with (that) tone, and twice now you would fold without another chance to resist. Again, you would silently nod, letting him slip out from under you while he disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments. You remembered how you had left it and it made you feel worse, but when he returned, the only thing that mattered to him was making sure you were alright.

"You said today was awful, how come?" He talked to you while he worked so to keep you from focusing solely on your hand and the pain. Everything he did was so thoughtful.

"I stayed up too late watching The First 48, then I slept through my alarms this morning, so I was two hours behind. I guess I hadn't clicked my charger into my phone fully so it didn't charge. I dropped the glass. I didn't get the apartment cleaned. I didn't get the laundry put away. I forgot my charger was in your car. My umbrella broke." With each added reason for the bad day it made you more emotional to the point that he had to stop cleaning the cut to lay a hand on your leg and try to calm you.

"Shhh, baby, baby, it's okay. None of that matters now. I didn't expect you to be waiting for me at the door. I'm just glad you're here now, but I'm sorry you had such a hard day. The apartment is fine, please, don't worry about it."

"But...I left the bathroom~"

"I don't care about it. Honest. I want you to feel welcome here; I want it to be your home. Home should feel lived in." Quinn leaned forward to kiss you yet you frown. You still felt so bad for everything not being done like you wanted it to be. "If you're here, that's all I want."

"You're so nice," you squeak out, hiding your face with your free hand. You don't realize you were breaking his heart, feeling so bad about missing your self-imposed marks.

"Sweetheart, will you look at me, please?"

Dropping your hand, you let your eyes be exposed though you keep it pressed to your lips.

"You're the only thing I care about when I'm here. If you're okay, I'm okay."

"But I'm not okay."

"And I'm not either. May I finish this for you?" His smile was so sweet, so heartfelt as he held your injured hand in both of his. When you answered "yes, please" Quinn brought it to his lips before finishing what he had started. With each new step of the process, he'd check in with you before continuing. He didn't feel that you had any glass in the wound or that you needed stitches, but he didn't want you to do too much the next few days.

"Alright, babe, all done."

"Thank you."

"Of course. Anything for you," his smile continues. "How about you go change your clothes, get into something comfortable and we'll have a lazy evening in bed. I'll get the groceries put away and we'll order take out. How's that?"

"Do you want some help?"

"No babe, I can get it. It won't take me that long, but thank you. I'll meet you in there, okay?"

"Okay." You give him a kiss as a thank you, later apologizing for your mild breakdown earlier.

"It's alright. You're only human, sweetheart and you had a bad day. I can't say I'd do much better. I'd never judge you for anything like that," Quinn replies, holding your face for another kiss. "I promise."

[mintyys-blog]

MINTY!! 🛐🛐🛐 OH MY GOSH IM SO EXCITED THAT REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Have you seen Tokyo Ghoul at all? If so, how would Mark and his variants react to reader being a half-human, half-ghoul (like Kaneki)? Kinda like how you did the variants with a Red Hood reader

HEADCANON | mark variants with s/o who is half ghoul

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

Mainstream! Mark Grayson

He’s cautious but tries to be understanding. If you confide in him about being a ghoul, his first instinct is concern—“You need to eat… people?”—but he listens. He doesn’t run. Once he learns how hard you fight to hold onto your humanity, he starts defending you fiercely, even when others fear you. He probably offers to help you find synthetic alternatives or even volunteers himself when you’re on the brink of starvation.

“I’ve seen worse. I’ve been worse. You’re not a monster.”

Viltrumite Mark

He’s got that conqueror mindset, so your biology intrigues him. Half-ghoul? Regeneration, heightened senses, and monstrous potential? That’s useful to him. If you can hold your own in a fight and keep up with Viltrumites, he doesn’t care what you eat—as long as you’re loyal. Might offer corpses from battles like it’s a romantic gesture.

“We don’t judge what keeps us alive. Only who’s worth keeping alive.”

Mohawk Mark

Totally into it. He finds your duality hot—calm one moment, kagune out and ripping enemies apart the next. He encourages your ghoul side, lowkey hoping to see it more often. Might even pick fights just to provoke it. If anyone calls you a monster, he threatens them first.

“Baby, you look sexy when your eyes turn red. Come on, let’s ruin someone.”

Full Mask Mark

You two are trauma-bonded. He doesn’t talk much, but when he learns what you’ve gone through—torture, isolation, hunger—he just gets it. There’s this silent understanding between you two. He’s not afraid of your ghoul side, because he’s seen worse in himself. Fights by your side without hesitation.

[He doesn’t say it, but he looks at you like you’re not alone anymore.]

Sinister Mark

Oh, he’s obsessed. Your hunger, your pain, your struggle—it’s delicious to him. He’ll whisper things when you’re close to snapping, tempting you into losing control. Not because he’s scared… but because he wants to see you unchained. He calls you his little nightmare.

“Why starve yourself when you could feast, my dear? Let me watch.”

Prisoner Mark

He’s fucked up and loves that you are too. In that broken cell, surrounded by blood and silence, he understands what it means to crave. You both have monsters inside, and maybe that’s what draws him to you. He’d offer his own flesh if it meant keeping you from hurting more.

“We’re both stuck in these cages. Might as well survive together.”

Shiesty! Mark

Oh he’s so into the idea of a deadly, half-monster girl. Calls you his “Lil demon,” teases you about your kagune like it’s a flex. He brags about you to other people—“My girl don’t need no gun, she’ll eat you alive.” Will absolutely pull you onto his lap right after a bloody fight like it’s foreplay.

“Damn, that was sexy. You want the heart or should I grab you a leg?”

[sweetimpurity]

{💓} day 27!! coming in a little late whoopsie! hopefully everyone likes this ending, I think it's a little bit of everything all in one! love ya! thanks for keeping up with this! wc: 1.8k {💖}

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Earth 546

The ride to the hospital is long and painful. Closing your eyes from the pressure and ache in your head, shooting up from your nose and aching behind your eyes. Miguel sits with you, holding your hand and mentally cursing himself. He should have realized what he had before he lost it. The two months he was without you, they were the worst. Wondering where you were. If you were safe. His multiple screens where he’d spend countless hours scouring his databases for any information that might reveal your whereabouts. And working with Lyla to track that portal. Eventually falling down the rabbit hole that led him to you finally. 

And now this. To see you’ve managed to latch onto this so quickly. This version of himself that was ready to give you everything. He just feels so bad. He let you down. He sighs, leaning his head down on yours. Those years you’ve spent together at the front of his mind. He can’t blame you for the way you reacted. Just accepting Mig’s love because it was the thing you needed all along. 

Mig keeps looking back in the rearview mirror as he drives. Keeping an eye on you and Miguel in the back. He knows he did wrong. But his intentions were pure. His only intention was to give you love. Love you’d been longing for. And to escape that life he'd been stuck in forever. But he did that at the cost of lying right to your face and taking you from the home you knew. 

“We’re here…” He sighs, looking back at the two of you in the backseat. Pulling into the emergency room parking lot. Miguel perks up, turning off his suit and the nanotech disappears, leaving him in his regular clothes. An outfit you recognize. Those gray pants and the light gray long sleeve with the thumb cutouts. An ache in your chest. Realizing this really is your Miguel. Looking in his eyes over the mess of tissue at your nose. He just gives you a knowing look, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay…”

Mig does the same. His suit disappearing and his work clothes underneath. Running a hand through his messy hair. Parking the car and sighing. 

The three of you make it out of the car and through the automatic doors. Entering the waiting room and getting a few looks from people. These two hulking twins escorting a bleeding you through the lobby. Like guard dogs. Glaring at anyone who dares look your way. Miguel holding your hand and Mig’s hand on your back guiding you through to the front desk. 

Soon you’re getting tended to by a kind older nurse. Cleaning up your bloody nose and giving you some stronger pain killers to help with the swelling. At your request, the boys are waiting out in the lobby. Sitting with an empty chair between them. Crossed arms and huffs, frowning at the floor and waiting for you to return. 

Each of them has a few choice words for the other. 

“You couldn’t have picked a dimension with some higher tech? This place is like 2030…” Miguel huffs, rolling his eyes. Glaring around at the hospital. If they were on Earth 928, he’d be able to treat your broken nose himself in minutes in his lab. But since Mig did all this, this is what they have to settle for. 

“This place seemed safe…” Mig says, staring blankly at the floor. 

Miguel scoffs, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “You act like we’re not superhuman geniuses… who can quite literally jump between dimensions. We can do anything we want and not many people could stop you…” Miguel says matter of factly. Clasping his hands together. 

“My dimension’s messed up… ” Mig says. Blinking and tapping his fingers on the armrest. “Everything feels wrong there… things glitch, my whole life there was like one big glitch.”

Miguel nods and listens. Feeling empathetic to his struggle. He can understand why he did what he did. But he still can’t help but feel it’s his duty to make things right with you. Whatever that may mean. Even if it means you leaving him for good this time. All this started with you two, it should be resolved that way too. 

“Well there are a lot of universes out there… People like you and me aren’t meant to stay in just one. Your whole life could be waiting for you and you wouldn’t even know it.” Miguel says. Feeling more optimistic than usual. Of course, he sees his own struggle in his fellow Miguel. 

“Whatever happens now… it’s gonna be her decision. And we’ll have to take it as it is.”

It’s silent for a bit before the doors open finally and you walk out with an ice pack in hand. A butterfly bandage over your swollen nose. But you’re all cleaned up now. Walking over and instead of sitting in between then, you sit across from them, facing them. The three of you settling into a heavy silence.

“I’m sorry…” Mig is the first to speak. Not looking up at the two of you yet. Looking down at his hands. It’s quiet, letting his apology sink in. 

“Yeah I’m really sorry… I don’t know what I was thinking…” Mig sighs. “I didn’t want to hurt you… but I should have been honest from the beginning.” He hums more seriously. His eyes flicking up and expecting to see hatred in your expression but your face is surprisingly soft. 

“And I’m sorry…” Miguel says. And you find his eyes on you. His apology feeling much more heavy. Three years of your life you spent with this man. This was all pretty messed up to begin with. Both of them messed up big time. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you either… but I was selfish… and ignorant. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone...” Miguel huffs. Looking in your eyes. 

“I guess we’re just wired to love you… in every dimension…” Miguel says with a slight sad smile. The two of them watching you from across the row of seating. 

“Me too…” You sigh with a pained grin.

5 years later… Earth 928

You’re home. Back where you started. After having spent some time away from any and all versions of Miguel O’hara. After the hospital, you said goodbye. You gave the ring back and a tearful goodbye to Mig who wished you nothing but love and joy in your life. And he told you about his plans to explore more of the multiverse and try to establish his own life somewhere, instead of framing his life off of the variants that are his parallel, but not his mirror. 

Getting back home, you decided it was best to part ways with Miguel as well. At least for a while. After the deep hurt he caused, you needed to heal on your own for a while and figure out what you want and how to love yourself first. You landed a promotion the next year, moving up a position at your job surprisingly after having to explain to them the very unique reason for your two month absence. Picked up some new hobbies after getting your own apartment. Growing flowers and herbs on the fire escape and who knew you could paint?! Made some new friends in the neighborhood. And all was well. 

Miguel spent his time focusing on the Spider Society. Guiding his team to protect the multiverse and working to preserve the precious timelines from running out of control. He was able to do so with the help of Lyla, Peter B, Jess and all the spider teens. And finally after five years, he’s passing the Society off to those teens who are now adults. Spiderpeople in their own right and passionate about keeping the multiverse and all its inhabitants safe. And leading the Society as a united front. Knowing it will take them some time to grow into the role but he’s willing to help them all along the way. 

Miguel plans to take a step back from the Society. And from his work as Spiderman 2099 as a whole. What with the baby on the way, he wants to be able to spend all his important time with you. 

One year ago, you reconnected. After spending nearly 4 years apart, he happened to check in and it happened to be on the date of your anniversary. Talking about old memories changed to talking over dinner again. And without half his mind distracted by the multiversal collapse, he could focus on you and only you. He can’t help but feel oddly grateful to Mig all those years ago for making him see what he was missing, making him realize what he was losing. You. 

This time he wasted no time. Proposing to you six months later and knowing it’s right this time. Not wanting to lose you, not wanting to risk you feeling the way you did ever again. Wanting to do right by you. From now on and always.  

You were married in a tiny ceremony at HQ. Peter B cried, Miles did too. 

And now a few months after that, you’re pregnant with your very first! It’s all you ever dreamt of. All you wanted. The family, the stability, the feeling of home with the man you love. And you have to feel grateful to Mig too because he showed you, you were deserving of unconditional love. At the time, Miguel just couldn’t show it. Right person, wrong time. But he’s learned better now.

Miguel has already been decorating the nursery with little pink web designs. Full papa spider mode getting the nest ready for the arrival of your little one. And though the journey hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing… you’re together at last and on the same page. And Mig 731 isn’t doing too bad himself…

…

Mig traveled the multiverse all these years. Going to worlds he never knew existed. Timelines that are so different from his own. Always searching for a new adventure and coming out of his shell. The shell his broken dimension always forced him into. Feeling a freedom he never had before. Not when he was sitting at home, watching other Miguel’s have lives he could only dream of having. Not readily having the technology to actually get out and seize his chance. 

Along the way, he even met a certain someone who took his breath away. You. From Earth 764A. A feisty spider woman and the prettiest in the multiverse. And when he learned you didn’t have a Miguel in your timeline, it was like the gates of fate opened and he saw the light. The two of you traveling to fantastic worlds unknown! And falling in love all the while. Spending the rest of his days with you, the only version of you that he feels he was meant to find. Miguel was right, his whole life was out there waiting for him. You were out there waiting for him. He just had to go looking...

And they all lived happily ever after… 

The end. 

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp @reader-1290

@sp0ck136 @lazyninjaphilosopher

@pinkdizzyship @opalwitchart

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

plus those who requested a part 2+:

@d3stin7 @laysmt @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @marshhbs

@twwcs @resident-clown @haveclayeveryday

@fullmetal-spiderling @grumpyahjumma

@lxverrings @lazyjellyfish300 @nightingale1011

[ravens-two]

Mini-PAC: Your Person's Love Language

This one is a smaller reading, and it has no extended version. It includes your person's love language and how they express their love/feelings/emotions.

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Five of Pentacles, Two of Wands, Gratitude

"All that I am and all that I'll be, forever in gratitude I'll eternally be."

Words of Affirmation/Acts of Service

Hi, pile 1, this person has been through a lot and knows that life can be incredibly hard. That's why they do their best to make it easier for you. That's their love language, making life easier for you. They are quick to show their support and to offer help whenever you need it. They don't have any problems with saying thank you or apologizing when they're wrong. They might have in the past or they might still struggle in other relationships (with people they aren't as close with), not with you though.

They know what it's like to not have anything, including support from others, and they never want to see you there. They could have become the type of person that tells you to get it together and pull yourself by your bootstraps, but they're not. Again, this comes from a deep sense of empathy. (It actually reminds me of that Doctor Who quote "All that pain and misery, and loneliness, and it just made him kind".)

They're the type of person to do the whole "I love you, no I love you more" game. I also see them telling you that they love you as soon as they wake up or before falling asleep. They just really like to say it. They have no problems with expressing their feelings, although I'm getting that they're also private people (this side of them is just for you). I also see them being like "do you need me to listen or do you need advice?" whenever you have problem. They are quite selfless when it comes to you.

Pile 2

Seven of Cups, Judgment, Bear Medicine

"There is no tomorrow without the healing of the past for in stillness you shall find yourself right where you are."

Acts of Service/Quality Time

Understanding is the word I keep getting for your person, pile 2. I get the feeling that your person is quite silent. They remind me of a cat actually, they love spending time in the same room as you while each one does their own thing. They enjoy just reaching out a hand to you and hold hands while doing something else. In general though, I see a lot of silence. This is a comfortable silence, though, there's no awkwardness here. I also think that they're deep thinkers, so when they share their thoughts with you you'll know that it's something important for them. I don't think that saying "I love you" comes easy for them, but you'll know that they really mean it when it comes out.

A bit similar to pile 1, is that when you have a problem your person is ready to step in and help however they can. They're the type to silently act, instead of talking about what they would do. Where I really see the Acts of Service thing though, is them just doing things for you without you having to ask. Like offhandedly mentioning that you need to change your tires, they'll just do it without even saying anything (always respecting your boundaries of course). Or you might mention that you really like a certain brand of chocolate so they always keep that brand at their house so that you can have some. Your person is really thoughtful and they pay a lot of attention to what you say - and what you don't say too.

I get the feeling that they like to be left alone whenever something's wrong, so I feel like they'll do the same for you. Instead of asking what's wrong or try to cheer you up, they'll just sit beside you and keep you company.

Pile 3

Tower, Ace of Pentacles, Cardinal Medicine

"Thy self bleeds of sacredness, an honor fit for the Gods. You are worth all the seas and all the skies and all the desires you hold inside."

Gift-giving/Quality Time

Your person wants to give you the world, pile 3. Their love language is definitively gift-giving, but it's not just about big gifts or luxury (although it could be the case for some of you). For most of you I just see your person being like "look at this cool rock I found today" or "I saw these flowers and they reminded me of you". They just love giving you little trinkets. Especially things that they find unique or special in some way. They think that you deserve something that no one else can possibly have. This can even include commissioning art work or jewelry just for you.

On a more day to day level I also see them just buying your favorite treats. They just want to get home with something special for you, be it your favorite meal or candy. They are very giving in general, and if you say you want something they won't hesitate to buy it for you. Also, I get the vibe that they're incredible gift-givers. Your birthday presents are always incredibly thoughtful.

They might also enjoy creating things for you or singing/playing music for you. They like to have a good time, so having enjoyable experiences is also a love language for them. This could be a dedicated date night where you try new stuff (food, places, activities), going on vacation to new places (just the two of you), or even going to the cinema to watch a new movie. They want to spend time with you while you both do something that you enjoy.

Pile 4

Three of Wands, Emperor, Ringing the Bells

"Ring thy bell to cast them out, ring thy bell and dance about. Swirl the sounds amidst the winds, nowhere to hide, for all will ring."

Physical Touch/Words of Affirmation

Right away I can tell that this is a physical touch kind of person, pile 4. They are very fiery and might get too handsy at times, but it's not just about that for them. They just love to feel your body against theirs. They love to hold hands, wrap their arms around you, and for some of you they love biting (gentle and playful bites on your hands, arms or shoulders). They're not embarrassed by other people and just really love PDA. They like to be touching any part of you all of the time, I feel like it gives them a feeling of safety and comfort. For some of them, they were a bit touch starved for a long time, and now they're making up for it.

I also get the feeling that this person gives the best hugs! It's probably their go-to to comfort you. They'll have no problems telling you that they love and how much you mean to them (although I feel that they crave more to hear you say it, rather than saying it themselves), but their way of showing you how they feel is through touch. They might kiss you to show you that they love you or to communicate their anger or frustration with a problem. This also means that for them sex is also a way of showing you how they feel. They expect you to pay attention to the way they behave during sex to know how they're truly feeling.

When it comes to Words of Affirmation, again I don't think that they struggle to tell you that they love you - in fact I think that they say it rather often - it's more that they struggle with expressing their emotions. Again, they also prefer to receive love this way. They want to hear you say that you want/love them.

[kennytheworkingclasshero]

Alongside Stan, we've also seen Kenny experience addiction issues. Most notably in the episode Major Boobage, where he spends the majority of the time favouring the escapism that cat pee offers him from his day to day life. Kenny is often spending his time taking care of his sister, dealing with his parents' own inebriation and their tendencies towards domestic abuse, as well as having to go through painful deaths over and over again. The relief and happiness he feels when he is able to go into another world, where he is experiencing the things that he loves (good looking women, obviously), is enough to make him do it again and again (despite how worried his friends are).

This is similar to Stan, as seen in Ass Burgers when he has to come to terms with his parents divorce, as well as developing depression and a sense of cynicism in the world. He takes to alcohol very easily in order to numb the pain and be able to make it through his day.

Kenny and Stan are both victims of addiction being passed down genetically; Kenny with his parents being addicts and Stan with his father and grandfather being addicts. However, I do think their reactions to addiction is very different, and it all comes down to the environment in which they were raised.

For Kenny, he grew up with two parents who were very clearly addicts. There was no hiding it, they were always drunk or high and their kids knew that. Kenny as Mysterion even asked them to stop getting high as frequently as they do, which is seen in the episode Mysterion Rises when Carol says they did what he asked and they "stopped gettin' high every night." Kenny has deep rooted trauma which stems from his parents addiction and what happens because of it, like neglect and domestic violence. That is why when Gerald is giving his speech at the end of Major Boobage and he says "Problem is, the more you go into that world, the more you need to go. Until you start blowing off all the real people who care about you." Kenny resonates with this, looking down guiltily and saying to himself "Yeah, I guess so."

Him and his siblings experience this everyday and that has real material effects on their lives. This is seen in The Poor Kid when the McCormick siblings are taken into foster care because of their parents neglect. Karen asks why her mom and dad went to jail and Kenny replies with sentiments that are similar to Geralds speech, of them "blowing off" the people that care for them in real life; "Sometimes, people do stupid things. Sometimes they don't realize what should have come first. Until it's too late."

He doesn't want to become like his parents, he wants to put his family (and more specifically, his little sister) first. Because she's all he's got, because he has taken on the role of her caregiver due to his parents struggle with addiction. If he gives into his own 'needs', who will be there for her? That is why he restrains himself and that is why the way he has been brought up, despite being surrounded by addicts from a young age, has made him want to distance himself from substances.

This is not to say that Stan's upbringing didn't have an effect on his addiction, but the Marshes are able to put on the front of a more put together family due to their economic status, in a way the McCormick's simply cannot. They are middle class, Randy has a good job, they live on the 'good' side of town. Randy is a terrible father and an idiot, who doesn't put much effort into his family members lives, but he is a functioning alcoholic. It is easier to hide and therefore, Stan's trauma is not as clearly linked to substances and addiction as Kenny's is. Stan also does not hold much responsibility for other family members in the way that Kenny does and because of this, it is easier for him to fall into his addiction in the way Kenny isn't. Stan isn't even particularly introduced to alcohol by his father, but rather a group of cynics.

However, this does not absolve Randy from his responsibility for his son's addiction or trauma. It still stems from Randy, but it also functions differently from Kenny's.