#But i’m still just so upset by this whole

[y3sterdaysproblem]

they said speak now - m.s.

summary: you and matt had been best friends since the moment you were born, rarely doing anything without him by your side. your families have always expected the two of you to end up together, but when matt gets a girlfriend that hates you and desperately attempts to destroy your relationship, you’re forced to confront the truth about your feelings for him. will your bond survive the test, or will the pressure of love, jealousy, and change push you apart?

wc: 2k

series masterlist

Part two

It was awkward. Beyond awkward.

Normally the car rides home were loud and full of life, the space occupied by Chris ranting about this class and that teacher, Nick yelling about whatever pissed him off that day and the occasional comment from you and Matt. Today, though, was different.

Amber was her name. She was tall, fit from cross country and so pretty. Her hair always seemed to fall into place perfectly, even on days when she claimed she had no time to get ready and she looked awful, she was still beautiful. It was no wonder Matt had a crush on her.

She was in Chris’s usual seat behind you, Chris shunned to the very back row of the van, not that he cared much, preoccupied with whatever was on his phone at the moment. The tension felt higher than usual, Matt constantly glancing between you and the girl he could see in his rear view mirror, wondering why every word spoken between you two seemed strained and forced.

Nick caught on, remembering your reaction earlier in the day when you had found out Matt was interested in this girl, seeing how the light faded from your eyes at the thought of losing Matt to another girl. He tried to fill the gaps in conversation with jokes and random comments here and there, but it seemed to do nothing to ease the awkwardness between everybody.

“So, Amber,” you start slowly, turning around in your seat to face her with a small smile. “How did you and Matt meet?” She lifts her head up, pulling her gaze from her lap where she was playing with a tear in her jeans to look at you. “School,” she says plainly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Everyone in the car internally cringes at her response, Matt even visibly curling in on himself at the way she spoke to you, like you were wasting precious time by asking her a question. “Right,” you respond, nodding your head with a tight smile before spinning back in your chair, sparing Matt a glance before staring out the windshield blankly, willing the ground to swallow you whole.

“We just met during lunch one day,” Matt explains after a beat of silence, smiling towards you for a moment. “We had mutual friends that were talking and I just thought she was, um.. pretty.”

You nod your head at his explanation, still staring straight ahead, leaning your elbow on the door and your head in your hand. “Nice, Matt,” you answer, voice monotone and uninterested now.

He sighs softly, knowing something has upset you and it’s going to have to be a conversation for later. Continuing the drive, you and his brothers are confused when he pulls up to their own house, parking along the curb out front. “This is our house,” Chris states obviously, implying Matt had forgotten what he’d said about taking everybody home. “I know. I’m dropping off you and Nick. Our house was the closest.” Matt answers him, meeting his eyes in his mirror.

Your heart drops, realizing you’ll have to be in the car alone with Matt and this girl that clearly already has an issue with you just from existing. “Matt,” you say nervously, turning your head to look at him. “I thought you were dropping her off first. You… you’re not coming over?”

Matt always came over on Mondays, your family used to the routine of preparing an extra meal for the boy that felt like family, sometimes even making enough for all three boys to spend dinner there. “We’re getting ice cream,” Amber chimes from the back seat, not taking her eyes off of her phone as she spoke. Chris and Nick’s eyes meet, silently speaking through their gaze as you continued staring at Matt, noticing the way he refused to meet your eyes. “I’ll be there in time for dinner,” he promises quietly, finally turning his head.

When he saw how you looked, he realized how much deeper this ran. It wasn’t just skipping out on a routine once, it was throwing a wrench in something so habitual, ruining the well oiled machine that was your guys’ relationship. He felt guilty, like he should’ve asked permission before springing this on you the moment it happened.

You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to him, feeling a sense of betrayal seeping into your veins. “You could come inside with us,” Nick suggests softly, leaning between the two front seats apprehensively. His hand comes forward to rest on your arm, shooting you a soft smile. “Come on, we have ice cream, too. Our mom would love to see you.”

You swallow thickly and shift your gaze to Nick, revealing the thin gloss over your eyes. You nod quickly, forcing a smile on your face as you agree. “Okay,” you choke out, not sparing Matt another glance as you turn to grab your backpack from in front of you and get out of the car, admittedly shutting the door harder than you needed to. As you got closer to their house, you looked behind you to see Amber getting out of the back and into the front seat, your seat, shooting a glare your way, a snobby look that said ‘I have everything you want’.

Chris places a hand on your back to guide you inside, shutting the front door behind the three of you, and that’s when your wall crumbles, fat tears welling up in your eyes and spilling over. “Oh no,” Nick mumbles, grabbing you by your arms and pulling you into his room, leaving Chris behind as he shuts you both in there.

He stands in front of you and watches as your body wracks with tears, your head tilted down towards the floor to hide the redness blooming on your cheeks. “Hey,” Nick says quietly, pulling you into his frame gently. “It’s okay. He’d never fall for a girl like her. He won’t put up with the way she talks to you.”

“Yes he will,” you croak into his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. “God, I’m so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid. Falling for my best friend like an idiot. I should’ve known he would never look at me like that. Not when there’s girls like her out there, I… What am I supposed to do?”

Nick’s breath catches in his throat at your confession, even though he had an idea, to hear it out loud shattered his own heart, though it wasn’t even half as painful as it was for you. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, hands rubbing over your back gently. “Why don’t you text your mom and tell her you’ll be here for dinner?”

You nod shallowly against him, sniffling loudly. Your situation is reminiscent of the time that you realized you had feelings for Matt, though this time your heart was crumbling into a million tiny pieces, scattered on the floor beneath your feet. You swore you could feel it crunching when you shuffled around, turning to dust under your shoes. This emotion felt far worse, the complete opposite of falling in love. It was one you wouldn’t wish on anybody.

Except Amber.

Fuck Amber.

-

You were quiet at the dinner table, head facing down towards your food as your fork played with the pasta on the plate, appetite long gone. Matt was sat next to you in his normal spot, his eyes flicking over to you seemingly every thirty seconds, desperately vying for your attention.

You refused to look at him, knowing it would set off a new wave of emotions. Chris and Nick felt awkward, too, while their parents had no idea there was even a problem present.

Matt knew you weren’t going to eat, and he couldn’t eat with you mad at him, not when the guilt was eating him alive. “Can I talk to you?” He says suddenly, pushing his chair back and standing up. You want to refuse, tell him that there’s nothing to talk about, but when he reaches down to rest a hand on your shoulder, you can’t help the way your body instantly relaxes at his touch.

You stand silently, still not meeting his gaze as you guys walk to his bedroom, leaving his family confused and surprised in the kitchen. Once you’re in his room and the door is shut, you finally bring your eyes up to his, seeing how concerned and upset he looked. “What’s… what’s going on?” He asks softly, voice pleading. “If this is about her I swear she won’t come between us, I told you.”

“Matt, she’s rude,” you blurt out, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. “And she clearly doesn’t like me. Probably has an issue with you being friends with a girl. You date her and she’s going to drive a wedge between us, I guarantee it.” You fully believed your statement, knowing how girls like her were.

“She won’t, I won’t let her,” Matt says, stepping closer to you. “You mean more to me than any girlfriend.” Wrong. If that was true, he’d be with you. A girlfriend has to be more important than a best friend someday.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head slightly. “You don’t get it. Today is the first time you’ve hung out and you didn’t tell me you weren’t coming over until the last minute. I don’t like her.” You admit to him with a sigh. His eyebrows furrow together, a surge of frustration running through him. “Are you jealous?”

You’re caught off guard, your own face scrunching up in confusion at his accusation. “Excuse me?” You snap back, dropping your hands to your hips now. “Jealous of what exactly?”

“Having to share me,” Matt shrugs. “Me not spending every free moment I have with you.” If you weren’t hurt enough by the whole situation, his words were enough to send your emotions into overdrive. “Matt,” you choke out, feeling your tears start to well up in your eyes once more.

He quickly realizes his mistake and steps forward, his expression softening at the sight of you. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, grabbing your face with both of his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just.. frustrated trying to navigate this and I don’t understand what’s wrong. I thought… I thought you guys would get along and I guess I was wrong and I don’t know what to do.”

You curse yourself for the way you melt into him, into his touch and into his stare. Why couldn’t everything just be like this? Him holding you like you were all that mattered. “How could I get along with someone who has…” everything I want, you want to scream, but the words get stuck in your throat, lost forever. “Such an awful attitude,” you settle. “Matt, I want you to be happy, I just know this isn’t going to end well. I can’t lose you.”

Matt’s thumbs are soft as they caress your cheekbones, wiping the few tears that cascaded over your skin. “You’ll never lose me. I promise.” He pauses and sucks in a deep breath, icy blue eyes boring down into yours. “Are you sure that’s all it is? Her attitude? Or is there… anything else you need to talk about?”

You could’ve sworn you heard a slight edge of hopefulness in his voice as he spoke, like he wanted there to be another reason for your outburst. This is your chance, you say to yourself. He’s waiting for you to confess.

You’re not strong enough to do anything except shake your head slightly in his grip, denying any further reasoning. You can feel your chances slipping through your fingertips, but the thought of losing Matt if he doesn’t return your feelings, it’s just not worth it. You could deal with some unrequited love for some time.

You’d get over him eventually.

a/n: how we feeling abt this series so far

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @darksturnz @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @chrisbratt333 @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @ariestrxsh @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44 @colorthecosmos444

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part fourteen

Now, listen. Is it really a honeypiehotchner fic if something wildly dramatic doesn't happen around this time in the story? Buckle up!

Warnings: angst, I don't want to spoil but for the sake of triggers there is a car wreck in this one (everyone is fine!!!), and a slightly sensual moment (you'll see hehe), also probably some incorrect info about cars...just go with it

It’s not until Hotch exits off the interstate onto the small four-lane highway to avoid traffic that you speak again. It’s been over an hour.

“Did Rossi tell you?” 

It’s not the question Hotch expects, but he jumps to his friend’s defense all the same. “No, no he didn’t.”

You don’t say anything.

When you do, it’s what he expects. That same white hot anger you’ve always had around him.

“I don’t even know if I want to know how you found out,” you begin, voice so calm that if it weren’t for how well he knows you, he wouldn’t necessarily think you’re so beyond pissed off with him. “I’m assuming it’s just going to piss me the fuck off.”

Probably, he thinks. Out loud, he says, “I read your file.”

“You read everyone’s file. I got that part. What I’m still trying to wrap my head around is the fact that I had most of it sealed — for good fucking reason, and with the permission of the goddamn Section Chief — and yet you went behind my back, behind Strauss’s back, and dug your nose around where it doesn’t fucking belong.”

“I’m—”

“If you say you’re sorry, Aaron, I’m actually going to punch you in the face.”

He stays quiet. He deserved that one. 

He always thought that you’d never call him by his first name, probably out of spite because he uses yours perhaps too often. He never imagined it would be in this way, said with such distaste each time that it makes him feel cold inside.

You finally move, then, your hand reaching up to rub your forehead. “I just don’t understand.”

And Hotch, helpless and desperate, lets his emotions get the better of him again. “What was I supposed to do? You wouldn’t tell me the truth.”

“Because you hadn’t fucking earned it!” you shout. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t trust you with that kind of information about me — and it seems like I was fucking right to not tell you. Because you just—” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” he argues. Around and around the cycle goes. The arguing will never stop between the two of you, will it? “Because this is serious.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you almost laugh. “My whole life it’s been this serious so don’t act like I don’t know what I’m doing. I can handle myself and I can handle this— whatever this is.”

“It won’t kill you to let someone help—”

“Maybe not someone who has actually earned my trust.”

That stings, though he has no right to be hurt by it. He nods once and keeps his mouth shut.

Until he can’t. “I know you’re upset with me and you have every right to be,” he pauses to hold up his hand, stopping you when you open your mouth to say something else. “But I didn’t know what else to do. It was clear after Richard first recognized you that it caused something to resurface— you couldn’t breathe. I knew then that your safety and well-being was at risk and yes, I will admit, I made a mistake going behind your back to read what you had sealed, but—”

“Hotch, stop,” you interrupt.

He sighs. He’ll never be able to get this all off of his chest if you two can’t stop interrupting one another. “Can I please just finish what I was—”

“No, seriously,” you say, voice deadly serious. “How long has that car been behind us?”

Hotch doesn’t move his head a single inch as he glances up in the rearview mirror. It’s the same car that was there when he exited the interstate. “A few miles. Why?”

“I don’t know,” you chew on your bottom lip, keeping yourself facing forward. “Just a gut feeling.”

You almost think he’s going to have some snide remark about your gut feeling again, but he doesn’t.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

“Take a right— Don’t use your blinker,” you keep your voice low, as if the person in the car behind you can hear.

Hotch does as you ask, taking a sharp right onto a two-lane highway. The car behind you jerks as the driver takes the same turn at the last second, nearly putting the back tires in the ditch. You watch with narrowed eyes as they speed up, getting so close to your back bumper that Hotch can barely see them in the rearview.

“This thing has lights and sirens, right?” you ask, just curious and thinking ahead. 

Hotch nods. “I can see him.”

“It’s a man?”

“I think,” Hotch says, glancing in the rearview again. “White male, maybe mid-40s. Hard to tell. He’s wearing sunglasses and a hat.”

“Do we need to call someone?”

“No,” he says. “Not yet.”

You both sit in silence as you analyze the car. It’s beat to hell, an older model of something you can’t place. But it was once blue, that you can kind of tell in between all of the rust and peeling. It has to be something from the early 90s.

Hotch drives exactly the speed limit, testing how the driver reacts. Up ahead, the solid yellow lines turn dotted. Hotch slows, hoping it’ll persuade the driver into passing, and you two can move on with your earlier conversation.

But it does the opposite.

Instead, the car stays what has to be mere centimeters away from the back bumper. No one else is on the road, so the man’s window to pass is wide open, yet he doesn’t take it.

“We can’t pull him over for tailgating,” you say.

“No, but if he hits us, we can,” Hotch replies, irritation starting to settle into his jaw.

“Don’t cause a wreck on purpose.”

“I’m not trying to do it on purpose.”

You both huff and glare into your respective side mirrors.

The car speeds up.

“What the fuck,” you hiss.

Hotch speeds up because he’s forced to, because believe it or not he doesn’t want to get in a wreck today, but the car stays right on your ass. 

“What the hell is his problem?” you curse under your breath.

“I don’t know,” Hotch answers absentmindedly, now fully glaring at the guy in the rearview. “But I’ve had enough.”

Hotch reaches up and flicks the lights and sirens on. You both expect the guy to immediately slam on his brakes and swerve to speed around you, panicking at the realization that he’s tailgating a government vehicle, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slows down with you, and pulls into the oncoming lane, just to ride right next to you.

You can make out his face through the tinted windows, despite his sunglasses. You don’t recognize him, though, and neither does Hotch.

His familiarity quickly doesn’t matter at all when he rolls his window down and points a pistol in your direction.

“Hotch!” you shout, ducking down on instinct. You know the BAU vehicles have bulletproof glass, but you don’t exactly want to test the theory.

Hotch slams on the brakes, letting the other car fly ahead of you just as two shots ring out, missing you thanks to Hotch’s quick thinking.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” you ask, not at all expecting an answer as you unclip your holster just in case you need to get your gun out quickly.

Hotch stays silent amidst your panicked statements. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out where to go from here. He’s calm under pressure just like he always is.

You notice the predicament at the same time he does. There’s nothing but thick woods on either side of this road. You’re not exactly close to any sort of civilization for anyone to hear these shots and think something is wrong.

You keep your eyes glued to the car up ahead, watching in horror as it slows to a stop, and then the fucking back up lights switch on.

“Hotch,” you warn.

“Yeah, I see him,” Hotch mutters, turning the sirens off. You hadn’t even realized they were still wailing. He leaves the lights on. “Are you buckled?”

“What?”

Hotch glances over to check and says, “Good.”

“Hotch, what the fuck are you—”

He revs the engine and flies forward, your seat belt locking and pinning you in place, rapidly approaching the car as it reverses toward you. You brace yourself for the impact, mentally cursing Hotch for how stupid this is, but the car in front swerves at the last second.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” you shout as you whiz past the car.

Hotch glances in the mirrors, waiting for the man’s next move. To no one’s surprise, he puts the car in drive and races after you.

“Do you have a better idea?” Hotch snaps, going well over the speed limit now, but the car behind you is rapidly gaining speed.

“Yes, I do,” you deadpan. “Fucking— Put it in cruise control and move your seat back as far as it’ll go.”

“What?”

“Just do it,” you unbuckle, taking your gun out of its holster and sticking it barrel down into the cup holder. That’ll have to do, it’ll just get in the way on your hip.

Hotch does as you ask, setting the cruise control and pushing his seat all the way back.

Without giving either of you time to say a damn word about it, you crawl over the console and clamber into Hotch’s lap, moving the steering wheel up as you go to make more room. 

Hotch tenses behind you, but says nothing, only widening his legs underneath you to offer as much space as possible. You get your feet on the pedals as best you can and flick the cruise control off, speeding up to what has to be an impossible speed for this car to do. You’re nearing 90 miles an hour, but it seems to do fine.

Your breath hitches when you feel Hotch’s arms slide around your waist.

He must’ve heard it because, quietly, he says, “You’re not wearing a seatbelt.”

You roll your eyes. That’s the least of your worries right now, and frankly, a lousy excuse.

“Can you see his tag?” you ask, watching the car inch closer and closer. “Should we call Garcia? Someone?”

“There’s no service,” Hotch replies.

“Fucking great,” you mutter, shifting in his lap, and—

For fuck’s sake. There’s no way.

You keep your realization to yourself, figuring Hotch is probably well aware of just how hard he is underneath you. He’s only human, you suppose, and you are pressed tightly against him, shifting in his lap as you keep an eye on the car behind you.

It’s a little bit of an ego kick, you’ll admit. You’ll use this as ammo later — if the two of you make it out of this.

The car speeds around you, coming to ride side-by-side again. Except this time before he can raise his gun, you swerve, grazing his car, attempting to push him off the road.

“Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” Hotch asks, almost involuntarily.

“Shut up,” you say through a smirk. “Not important.”

The man has the same idea, pushing back against you, but your SUV is bigger than his, so it doesn’t take much to cut him off, forcing him to stop. 

The second you have him pinned in the ditch, though, he reverses and swerves around you, trying to get away.

“Absolutely the fuck not.” You flick the sirens back on, fully prepared to pull this guy over or at the very least alert other law enforcement the second you get into the next town.

Hotch’s arms tighten around your waist slightly, his erection still prominent underneath you. You’ll unpack later why the thrill of this has you unconsciously wanting to rock your hips against him. 

For the record, you don’t give in to the urges. You have some self restraint.

The man is clearly trying to get away from you now, though, speeding like crazy without even thinking about slowing down. But you’re not letting him get away that easily, not after he pulled a gun on you.

Hotch digs his phone out, keeping one arm secure around your waist while his free hand dials Garcia. 

“Your oracle of all things know—”

“Not now Garcia,” you say. “Can’t explain right now— I need you to run a tag for me.”

“Shoot.”

Hotch reads off the tag as you get close enough to the car, both of you waiting in silence — aside from the wailing sirens — as Garcia runs the tag.

“It was reported stolen three weeks ago, it’s— Wait, that’s— That doesn’t make any sense—” Garcia cuts herself off, then gasps. “It’s Carly Henderson’s car.”

“That’s—” You know the name. Why?

“She was murdered by the last unsub,” Hotch answers.

“Right she was,” Garcia replies sadly. “I’ve triangulated your location and I’m notifying the closest police department.”

“Thanks Garcia,” Hotch says.

“Guys,” she hesitates. “What’s going on?”

“We don’t know,” you answer. “But it’s—” The line beeps as the call drops.

“Lost service,” Hotch explains with a curse. “What’s your plan?”

“Tailgate this guy until I can send him into a ditch for good,” you reply simply. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” You press harder on the gas.

Hotch wraps his other arm back around your waist, keeping you secure against him. You let yourself lean back, relaxing as best you can in this kind of situation.

All you can do right now is follow this guy until he—

“Shit!” You notice his brake lights too late, though with how fast you’re going, there isn’t much room for this kind of error. 

A head-on collision is the worst case scenario at the speed you’re going and where you’re sitting in Aaron’s lap, and your instincts know that, so you swerve as soon as you can, but you don’t slam on the brakes. You clip the edge of his car, but it’s enough. It’s enough to send your vehicle rolling into the woods. 

All you can register are the wailing of the sirens, the tightness of Aaron’s grip around your waist, pulling you back toward him and away from the airbags as they release, the force of them stinging your skin but keeping you from busting your head open on the wheel or the windshield. You don’t know how many times the car rolls, just that it feels like you’re falling and falling and falling until you’re not. 

By some miracle, it lands upright, so it’s easy for Aaron to unlock and kick open the door. You’re frozen against him, leaving him no choice but to exit the car with you in his arms.

The second your feet hit the grass, though, you run. You can’t explain why. You aren’t even trying to, but you do, sprinting toward the road, looking for the other car, but it’s long gone, barely a speck on the horizon.

Sirens scream in the distance — or are those still coming from your SUV? You can’t tell. Maybe it’s the ringing in your ears.

Hotch comes up the grassy incline, his phone pressed to his ear as he speaks to���to whoever he’s calling. Garcia, maybe?

“Yes, we need an ambulance,” Hotch says, his eyes scanning your face, concern coming in waves. “I think I’m alright, it’s my partner—”

Your knees buckle on their own, but Hotch is there, his arm reaching out to steady you.

In the haze of it all, you remember you’re mad at him. You’re supposed to be pissed at him. And you are. But you can’t stand up. Why can’t you stand up?

You shove his chest, but it’s the weakest attempt ever to get him away, and he doesn’t budge, ever a steel wall of muscle.

“Alright, thank you,” Hotch says into the phone. “I think I can hear them now.”

Hear what?

Your eyes blink slowly, pain starting to settle in random places. Your arms, your head, your feet. You look down at your arms and find them streaked with red. You don’t remember any windows breaking, but you hardly remember the car rolling as far as it did.

“You’re okay,” Hotch says, voice soft against the ringing in your ears. He holds your arms gently, not caring about your blood staining his fingers. “You’re in shock.”

You shake your head, finally letting yourself look at the car. It’s totaled, absolutely, the windshield shattered and other windows cracked. The driver’s side door is bent, but not much. The passenger side is crushed to hell where the car hit the tree. If you had been in the passenger seat still, you’d be—

The ambulance sirens grow louder as they come closer, skidding to a stop near you. The paramedics jump out and you faintly hear Hotch shouting out to them, explaining something, something about she’s in shock and she might be concussed.

“Ma’am,” the medic tries to get your attention. “Ma’am, can you hear me?”

“Kinda…?” you blink slowly, wondering why it’s suddenly getting so dark outside, until you realize it has nothing to do with the weather. Your hand grips Hotch’s forearm tightly. “Hotch, I— I can’t see.”

“Okay, you’re okay,” Hotch shushes you, gathering you back into his arms and carrying you across the grass. “Stay awake, keep squeezing my arm.”

You do, because you can’t stop, the anxiety keeps you from letting go. You don’t know what’s worse, blacking out completely or only halfway like this. You’re awake and fully aware as you’re laid down onto the gurney in the back of the ambulance. You’re aware of the oxygen mask coming to rest over your nose, realizing only after the medic tells you to try to breathe normally that you hadn’t been breathing at all.

“She has panic attacks,” you hear Hotch say, and then he squeezes your hand once. “Are you still awake?”

You nod, unaware of if your eyes are open or closed at this point because it’s all still so dark, but you squeeze Hotch’s hand for dear life all the same.

“Just keep breathing,” Hotch says. 

You hear him rattle off your allergies and you distantly think he’s unbelievable for remembering and knowing them by heart.

“You’re okay,” he says again. “Just stay awake and keep breathing.”

[elixirfromthestars]

So...originally I told myself I would treat myself to this chapter once I finished writing something...but I had a draining day at work and could use the comfort of our beloved Hangout, so now here I am 🥰

More under the cut ᯓᡣ𐭩

Liz, you already know where I’m going to start: THE WOODEN HORSE. First my heart ached reading the ptsd symptoms Scout is going through and then you hit me square in the chest with the hand carved gift. 😭🩷 The thought of Jake sitting there and whittling away at a piece of wood, carving it into a horse thinking about Scout the entire time will forever now be my roman empire. 💗 Even though I gave myself the sneak peak earlier in the week, I still sobbed reading that part again. 🤧💕 He's so smitten and I love him so much 🥹🩷🩷 He’s so soft for her and I live for that!! 🥹💖

I adore hand made gifts like they're just so thoughtful and full of meaning and ahhhhhhh!! 💗💗 And the fact that it brings her so much comfort while she deals with the trauma 🥺🥺

I have a little question though 👀 did you imagine Jake carving the horse for Scout right after the incident at the saloon or was this something he had been working on for her for awhile? 🫶🏼

The wooden horse had quickly found a home on your bedside table where you would pluck it from its perch during the late night hours, holding it to you tightly before drifting back into a comfortable sleep only to repeat the same cycle the following night.

^ I shall call him Whiskey Jr and he shall be mine 😌💖💖

The subtle coolness in the air that had been present a month ago finally gave way to a full blown chill, and you soon found yourself planting winter vegetables.

^ wait...its been a whole month?? 🫢 now where in the world did the Dagger Gang go and what are they doing?? 👀

He looked at you with a gentle expression, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. His baby blue eyes moving to closing as he began to lean into you oh so slowly. You wished they were green.

^ Levi, Levi, Levi, you do not stand a chance, bud 🙂‍↔️ sorry not sorry!! 🤷🏻‍♀️

He had then introduced the new teacher, who appeared to be a shy little thing before the reverend had dismissed everyone for the day. This was of course after word had spread that the Dagger Gang was back in town.

^ Yay for the new teacher in town and yay for the Dagger Gang's return!! ✨ I’m just hoping they didn’t get into any trouble while they were away 😅

This was news to you. You were shocked at the wave of disappointment that rolled over you. They had gotten in last night? Why were you just hearing about it?

^ Aw, she was hoping Jake would come by, wasn’t she? 🥹

You had just made it to the stalls of the market when you felt eyes on you. A couple of girls walking by stared past you, and they giggled before you heard him speak. “Mornin’, Scout,” Jake drawled.

^ Good morning, handsome 🥰

You couldn’t stop the words that left your mouth. “Not enough to come and see me when you got back yesterday, apparently.” Jake leaned his head back with a booming laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up. His laughter died down into a low chortle as he looked at you with twinkling eyes. “Is that why you’re being so cold to me, pretty girl? Y’mad that I didn’t come and see you?”

^ Oh, I just know he’s absolutely loving the fact that she’s upset over that 🤭💗 I can see that shit eating grin clear as day!! 😂🩷

He leaned down so that his mouth hovered over your ear. “I got something for you.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and he let out another chuckle, turning you slowly to face him. He reached into the pocket of his pants when you were fully facing him, pulling out a long, golden chain. Attached at the end was a large, cut emerald surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds that sparkled in the late morning sunlight.

^ He got her a necklace 👀 That’s so sweet 🥺 And I love the way it matches his eye color so she’ll always have a little part of him with her 💚✨

“How did you afford this?” you breathed, voice so soft even to your own ears. “I have my ways.”

^ Oh no...I don't like the sound of that… 😦

“I bought it, if you must know,” he sniffed, looking more than a little put out at your sudden shift in tone. “With money you earned?” “Oh, I earned it,” he smirked ruefully. You scoffed at that. “You shouldn’t lie, Jake,” you said pointedly. “It’s a filthy, disgusting habit.” “What does it matter?” he frowned. You narrowed your eyes up at him. “It matters,” you seethed, “because I only accept gifts from men who earn their money in a respectable way.”

^ I have mixed feelings here ☹️ I don’t want to believe Jake just went up and stole it, but he is an outlaw so… ☹️ And as far as we know right now, Jake doesn’t have a job, so the most likely conclusion is that he used stolen money to buy it 😕 And I understand why Scout would be uncomfortable accepting such a gift, I mean I would be too! I just hope such an expensive gift didn’t come from a place where Jake felt pressured to get her a fancy necklace because of what she might be used to before she came to the west 🥺 Because while yes jewelry is pretty and people usually love being gifted some, I have a feeling Scout treasures the carved wooden horse more 🥺🩷

You both turned to see Levi watching you two with an uncertain expression on his face. He walked over to the two of you, and he placed an arm around your shoulder. Jake stiffened at the action, eyes blazing and lips set in a tight line. “Is everything okay?” Levi asked. You flashed him with a quick smile. “Yes,” you reassured him, turning back to glare at Jake who still had his eyes locked onto Levi, scanning him up and down with a look of utter distaste.

^ Levi, buddy…you best get your hands off of Scout before Jake teaches you a little something about why they call him Hangman 🫢

“That’s cute,” you smiled softly. “I hope one day someone will feel that way about me.” “What on earth are you talkin’ about, darlin’?” she chuckled incredilously, stopping her movements to stare at you. “You’ve got that Seresin boy wrapped around your little finger.” “Hardly,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. Penny shook her head and pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You may not see it, Scout, but everyone in town knows it. That boy would eat his boots if you asked him to.”

^ Scout that man would do anything for you. Tell him to jump he’ll ask you how far? 😌 Tell him to climb, he’ll ask you how high? 😌 Say the word and that man would move heaven and earth to get you anything 😌 It’s always hard to see that stuff ourselves, but the devotion that man has for you is evident and he’s not even officially yours yet!! I can’t wait to see what he does once he is!! 🥰❤️

“I didn’t accept it,” you said plainly, earning a look. “He bought it with stolen money, Penny. How could I accept it? I can’t. I won’t.” Penny watched you thoughtfully for a moment. “What is it you want from him?” You stared at the wooden top of the bar, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I want him to make an effort to do things the right way.”

^ I get what she means 😕 I doubt Scout wants Jake to be wealthy or anything like that, she just wants to make sure he’s making his money the honest way and I agree!! Being the partner of an outlaw who gets into a lot of trouble sounds like too much to handle. I mean Cyclone mentioned hangings once and I still have anxiety over it. 😭 And then with unsavory characters like Isaac entering Scout’s life because of Jake…I would also be hesitant to be with someone who does things that would invite (albeit involuntarily & more so through consequences) such people into their life. I understand it comes from a place of survival, but I hope Jake can find somewhere to make his money the right way 🥺

You had only made it three buildings down before realizing that footsteps sounded behind you, following you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge as a wave of terror washed over you. You quickened your pace, and tried not to panic as the footsteps behind you matched your pace.

^ NOT AGAIN. LEAVE MY GIRL ALONE, PLEASE!! 😭

“Then you better make this believable,” he said. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Jake reached down to grip the back of your legs, hoisting you up and pinning you againt the wall. You let out a startled gasp as he wrapped your legs around your waist, and you clutched at his shoulders. Jake gave you one final look before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

^ AHHHHHHHH THEY FINALLY KISSED!!! GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET LIKE CRAZY 🤭💗🤭💗🤭💗

The smut was written in beautiful detail and If I were to pinpoint every single moment that made me either a) giddy with my heart racing b) giggily and kicking my kick c) blushing and smiling like a fool d) all of the above we'd be here all day, so instead I will pick highlights and attach my very accurate reactions:

“You’re so tight, baby,” he moaned hotly into your ear, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek that served as a stark contrast to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. Your cheeks grew hot as you heard the squelch that sounded every time he pumped into you. “Do you hear that, pretty girl? You’re pussy is so gready, sweet thing. She keeps sucking me back in like she doesn’t want me to leave.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Feels good to just lean back and let me take care o’ you lke this. Nobody is ever going to make you feel like the way you do right now. Only I can make you feel this good.”

He crooked his fingers in a “come hither” motion that had you gushing around the invading appendages. He smiled. “There she is.” “Tell me who this sweet, little cunt belongs to,” he demanded. You clenched around him at his words, a strangled moan slipping past his lips at how tight you felt. “You,” you cried, more tears streaming down your cheeks, begging desperately for your release as you stared into his green eyes. “Again,” he ground out, feeling you squeeze him impossibly tighter as you neared your end. “Let this whole town know who you belong to.”

I have been absolutely ended by Jake, you can find me in a puddle on the floor 🫠💗💗💗 I need a moment to breathe and calm my heart because that was ahhhhhhh!!! 🤭���💞💞 Liz!!! You write in amazing detail and your dialogue is so so good!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 Everything feels so real and so right as I read and I am just in awe of you as a writer!! 🥹❤️❤️

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you, dropping his fingers back to his side. His gaze was affectionate as he leaned forward to nuzzle your nose with his. “Just as I thought.” You looked up at him in confusion. A smirk played on his lips. “Sweet as honey.”

^ STOP IT SIR YOU ARE A MENACE (affectionally) 🙈💕

You turned to him with a confused frown as he looked affectionately down at you, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, so quick you weren’t sure he had even done it. He let go of your wrist and took one step down off the porch. “Goodnight, Scout.”

^ Not him acting all sweet after what he just did 💀 The duality of this man is going to be the death of me 🫠💗

“Just know I blame you for this.” “Benjamin, are you going to tell me what this is about or-” You were cut off as the men stopped their hammering to look at the two of you as you approached. Each one greeted you, but your eyes were glued to the newcomer. An easy grin hung on his lips and mirthful, green eyes stared at you as you gaped. “Hey there, honey girl.”

^ JAKE IS WORKING THERE NOW?? 🫣💖 NO WAY!! 🤭💕Oh, the things that are potentially going to happen with them being around each other more often, ahhhhh I’m so excited!! 🥹💞 (But also what a rascal calling her honey girl after last night’s events 🙈😂🩷)

What more can I say about this chapter?? 🥹🩷 I feel like I have bombarded you with many of my thoughts already 😂🩷 I’m so giddy that these two have crossed that line into deeper feelings and I can’t wait to see how their dynamic and relationship evolves as they interact more now that Jake will be working at the ranch 🤭💕

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Five

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Five

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, Reader being angsty, Jake Seresin (flirting, jealous), Fingering, Dirty talk

Word Count: 4,766 (oops)

A/N: I am so overwhelmed by the amount of love you all showed Chapter Four! It was beyond anything I could have every imagined!! Side note, I also love how many of you come into my inbox and leave me asks either praising the stories, or just talk about them (*hint, hint*)! I'm honestly shocked you all aren't sick of me and these stories yet with how much I talk about them. Thank you all. As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

A month ago, you didn’t jump every time a door opened to loudly in the other room. A month ago, you didn’t bolt up in bed in the middle of the night with the phantom stench of cheap liquor and stale tobacco. A month ago, you didn’t dream about grabbing hands and cold, black eyes that stared at you with the intention to possess. A month ago, the sight of the little, hand-carved horse didn’t fill you with an instant sense of comfort and warmth.

You had found it sitting on the railing by the steps of the porch the morning after the incident at the saloon. You had walked out the front door to do the morning chores, Benjamin having already tripped out the door with a promise thrown over his shoulder to come check on you in the later morning after his meeting. It wasn’t a masterpiece by any means, but it was clear that someone had spent a lot of time whittling it down before deeming it presentable. You had walked over to it slowly, taking it in your hands gently. Whoever had carved it had made sure to add in extra details. You could see the curve of the horse’s eyes and the strands of its mane that flowed down its back. Every detail had been painstakingly carved as if the crafter had wanted it to be perfect. Your breath caught in your throat and your heart swelled when you saw the final detail on the underside of the horse’s belly.

J.S.

The wooden horse had quickly found a home on your bedside table where you would pluck it from its perch during the late night hours, holding it to you tightly before drifting back into a comfortable sleep only to repeat the same cycle the following night.

The cattle had arrived shortly after the departure of the Dagger Gang from town, and both you and Benjamin found yourselves scrambling to hire workers to help with the overwhelming workload.

“I’ll put the word out, don’t you worry,” Maverick had smiled over dinner one night. Two days later, three young, new faces had made themselves comfortable in the small cabin behind the house.

“Isaac is a mean sonofabitch,” Penny had told you once she heard about what happened in her saloon. “But I wouldn’t worry too much about him for the time being, especially now that Pete and Tom know he’s in the area. He’ll lie low for a little while to try and wait’em out.”

Her words left you with little comfort, but you slowly stopped casting worried glances over your shoulder every couple of seconds every time you left the confines of your home. An easy routine had settled on your ranch. Get up, get ready for the day, feed the goats and chickens, tend to your garden, make supper for the ranch hands and Benjamin, work on mending the various articles of clothing that were handed to you, go to bed, repeat.

The subtle coolness in the air that had been present a month ago finally gave way to a full blown chill, and you soon found yourself planting winter vegetables.

“How are you today, miss?”

You looked up to see one of the ranch hands, Levi, smiling down at you from where he leaned over the fence. He was a handsome man, maybe only a year or two older than you. Brown hair draped across the golden skin of his forehead and baby blue eyes twinkled at you.

“I’m doing just fine,” you smiled at him. “And I’ve told you a hundred times now to call me Scout, Levi.”

He chuckled, grinning at you. “Of course, Scout.”

He walked around the length of the fence and through the gate to drop down beside you where your hands were digging up the cold earth.

“Anything I can help you with?” he offered, chucking the dead plants beside you into the bucket behind you.

“No, I think I’m just about done here,” you hummed, wiping your hands on your soiled apron, smiling at the handsome man. “But, I could use some help bringing things back from the market, if you don’t mind helping?”

“Of course,” Levi grinned, offering you a hand as you moved to stand. You took it, and he pulled you up gently, pulling you into him slightly. The two of you stood in silence as he stared down at you. He looked at you with a gentle expression, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.His baby blue eyes moving to closing as he began to lean into you oh so slowly. You wished they were green.

The thought alone snapped you from your daze, and you pulled away from Levi with a clear of your throat. Resting a hand on his chest, you refused to meet his gaze, eyes darting around the yard nervously. “I should go clean up.”

“Right,” he breathed, nodding slowly. “I’ll be here.”

You gave him a brief smile before pushing past him and into the house. Minutes later you were walking out the front door towards Levi, basket in hand. He offered you a smile which you returned shyly before the two of you made your way into town. There was a distinct lack of children running around, which you were grateful for. Maverick had announced to the congregation after the church service the previous morning that the first day of school would be held in the sanctuary the next morning. He had then introduced the new teacher, who appeared to be a shy little thing before the reverend had dismissed everyone for the day. This was of course after word had spread that the Dagger Gang was back in town. You had overheard two of the girls in the pews ahead of you giggling about the different men.

“Did you hear?” giggled a red head to her friend excitedly. “The Dagger Gang is back in town!”

That had caught your attention.

“Really?” the blonde had squealed, earning several disapproving looks from the older members of the congregation. The two girls paid them no mind. “When did they arrive?”

“Just last night!”

This was news to you. You were shocked at the wave of disappointment that rolled over you. They had gotten in last night? Why were you just hearing about it? You were shaken from your thoughts when the red head continued.

“Oh, that Jake is so handsome!”

That had caused you to let out a rather unladylike snort, drawing the attention of the girl who sat a few rows ahead of you. You rolled your eyes at the other two to your left. The blond man was very handsome, but if only they knew his true nature.

“He is,” the blonde nodded with a wistful sigh. “But that Bradley isn’t so bad on the eyes either. It’s been horrible going this long without seeing all those handsome men walking around town.”

Your thoughts soured at the reminder as you fought to keep your face neutral. You weren’t even sure why you cared so much. It wasn’t like you even liked the man. He was cocky, brash, pig-headed, thoughtful, brave-

You shook your head. You would not go down that road. Mercifully, the reverend had started the service moments later and you were given a reprieve from the ridiculous thoughts that insisted on taking up residence inside your head. Jake hadn’t come to see you that day, and now here you were; standing in the market and well into the next day.

You greeted Hondo where he stood behind the counter as usual.

“Mornin’, Scout!” he grinned at you. “What can I help you with today?”

“Was just coming to see if Joel was back with any sugar.”

Hondo gave you an apologetic grimace. “‘Fraid not, honey. He should be back any day now though, so you keep comin’ by and checkin’.”

“That’s alright,” you smiled. You turned to look at Levi. “Why don’t you go on down to the feed store and purchase some hay for the horses? I’ll finish up here and meet you at the stalls by the saloon.”

“Alright,” he smiled, giving you a lingering look before turning and walking out the door. You chatted with Hondo for a couple of minutes as he filled a container with salt and packed different preserves into your basket. You waved to him with a promise to check back in the following day before stepping outside. You had just made it to the stalls of the market when you felt eyes on you. A couple of girls walking by stared past you, and they giggled before you heard him speak.

“Mornin’, Scout,” Jake drawled. You turned to see him leaning up against the side of the butcher’s shop, arms crossed in front of his chest and a cocky smirk hanging from his lips. Green eyes studied you as you stared.

“Jake,”you greeted cooly, mouth pressing into a firm line. Jake’s smirk turned into a grin as he pushed off the wall, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you.

“Missed you, pretty girl,” he hummed, reaching up to dance his fingertips across your cheek.

You couldn’t stop the words that left your mouth. “Not enough to come and see me when you got back yesterday, apparently.”

Jake leaned his head back with a booming laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up. His laughter died down into a low chortle as he looked at you with twinkling eyes. “Is that why you’re being so cold to me, pretty girl? Y’mad that I didn’t come and see you?”

“Hardly,” you snapped, glaring up at him. His smile didn’t falter.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he chuckled, “had I known you’d be this upset, I would have come to see you first thing.”

You ignored him, turning to walk towards the stalls. He wasn’t far behind you, and when you stopped in front of a stall to inspect the apples, he pressed up against you from behind. He leaned down so that his mouth hovered over your ear. “I got something for you.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and he let out another chuckle, turning you slowly to face him. He reached into the pocket of his pants when you were fully facing him, pulling out a long, golden chain. Attached at the end was a large, cut emerald surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds that sparkled in the late morning sunlight. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at it, recognizing it from the jeweler’s shop just down the road. It cost a fortune, and many women around town had taken turns to stand in front of the shop windows to admire it.

“You like it?” he smirked, holding it up for you to see it closer. You nodded slowly, eyes wide.

Your hand moving on its own to reach up and stroke over the precious gem.

“Thought of you when I saw it, pretty girl,” he hummed, leaning in so that his breath fanned over your face. “Thought the green would help you remember me when I’m not here.”

“How did you afford this?” you breathed, voice so soft even to your own ears.

“I have my ways.”

Your eyes snapped up to his at that. Frowning, you took a half step back to put some distance between the two of you.

“You mean you bought it with stolen money,” you accused. “Or did you just force Mr. Benson to give it to you free of charge?”

“I bought it, if you must know,” he sniffed, looking more than a little put out at your sudden shift in tone.

“With money you earned?”

“Oh, I earned it,” he smirked ruefully.

You scoffed at that.

“You shouldn’t lie, Jake,” you said pointedly. “It’s a filthy, disgusting habit.”

“What does it matter?” he frowned. You narrowed your eyes up at him.

“It matters,” you seethed, “because I only accept gifts from men who earn their money in a respectable way.”

Before Jake could reply, you heard someone call your name.

“Scout?”

You both turned to see Levi watching you two with an uncertain expression on his face. He walked over to the two of you, and he placed an arm around your shoulder. Jake stiffened at the action, eyes blazing and lips set in a tight line.

“Is everything okay?” Levi asked. You flashed him with a quick smile.

“Yes,” you reassured him, turning back to glare at Jake who still had his eyes locked onto Levi, scanning him up and down with a look of utter distaste. “We should get going. I forgot to grab the goat’s milk for Penny and we need to get the cart to pick up the hay.”

Levi nodded, looking uncertainly between you and Jake. You turned and began to walk through the crowd without a glance back at blond behind you.

Levi and one of the other ranch hands, Phillip, had dropped you off in front of the saloon with the promise that you would meet them by the bank before sunset. That had been a couple of hours ago, and you had fallen into an easy conversation with the older woman.

“She’s a timid, little thing,” Penny said as men began to make their way into the saloon. “I’ve never seen Bradley so sweet on anyone before. Calls her Birdie and everything.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled softly. “I hope one day someone will feel that way about me.”

“What on earth are you talkin’ about, darlin’?” she chuckled incredilously, stopping her movements to stare at you. “You’ve got that Seresin boy wrapped around your little finger.”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Penny shook her head and pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You may not see it, Scout, but everyone in town knows it. That boy would eat his boots if you asked him to.”

“I doubt that,” you frowned. “You know he tried to give me a necklace today?”

The older woman perked up at that. “He did?”

You nodded, humming at the memory. “You know that emerald pendant that’s been sitting in Mr. Benson’s window for forever and a day? It was that one.”

“Well where is it?” she asked curiously, eyes darting down to see the empty space by your collarbone.

“I didn’t accept it,” you said plainly, earning a look. “He bought it with stolen money, Penny. How could I accept it? I can’t. I won’t.”

Penny watched you thoughtfully for a moment. “What is it you want from him?”

You stared at the wooden top of the bar, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I want him to make an effort to do things the right way.”

“Alright,” Penny conceded, a knowing smile on her face. She turned to pull out some bottles from behind the bar, and stopped when her eyes caught sight of one of the windows. “Weren’t you supposed to meet your ranch hands at sunset?”

You turned to see what she was looking at and let out a low curse. It was clear that the sun had set ages ago, inky darkness resting against the windowpanes as lamp light filtered out.

“If you go now, they might still be waiting for you outside,” she said as you scrambled to your feet. You cast her one last smile over your shoulder before waving her goodbye. Practically sprinting out of the packed saloon, your warm cheeks were kissed by the cold, night air. Your breath came out in puffs as your eyes swept the street for any sign of the men you had come into town with. The streets were empty save for the few men who stood outside the saloon. Sighing, you figured they must have thought you had already gone home without them. You cursed again and began to make your way down the street. You had only made it three buildings down before realizing that footsteps sounded behind you, following you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge as a wave of terror washed over you. You quickened your pace, and tried not to panic as the footsteps behind you matched your pace. Your heart began to hammer as you heard more footsteps join in with the first.

You rounded the corner a few paces ahead of the group behnd you. You let out a yelp as a hand grabbed you from the shadows of an allyway, pulling you into a strong chest. You struggled as the man pushed you up against the wall, hand still covering your mouth.

“Hey, hey. Scout, it’s me.”

You opened your eyes, struggling to focus on the stranger in front of you as you adjusted to the darkness. Jake stood in front of you, eyes filled with worry as he watched you relax. The both of you stiffened when you heard a man shout from the front of the building, and Jake turned his head to look.

“She went this way!”

Jake looked back at you, seeming to weigh his options. He removed his hand from your mouth. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” you asked breathlessly.

“Do you trust me?”

You heard the shouts of the men grow closer as you studied the man in front of you. Slowly, you nodded.

“Then you better make this believable,” he said. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Jake reached down to grip the back of your legs, hoisting you up and pinning you againt the wall. You let out a startled gasp as he wrapped your legs around your waist, and you clutched at his shoulders. Jake gave you one final look before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but his lips were surprisingly soft against yours. Jake’s lips moved against yours slowly, urging you to respond. Slowly, unsurely, you began to move your lips against his and he let out a desperate sounding moan. His hands clutched your hips in a vice as he moved his knee in between your legs, slotting it against you. You let out a gasp at the action, and Jake took full advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. His tongue caressed yours gently as his right hand slid up the length of your body to rest under your left breast. Your hands moved on their own to tangle in the strands of hair that rested at the base of his neck, tugging lightly. Jake rewarded you with a strangled groan and a press of his knee into your core. You cried out at the action, feeling Jake grin against your mouth as he nipped on your bottom lip.

“Any sign of her?”

You moved to pull away and look at where the voice came from, but Jake’s hand moved up pull you back into him before returning to its spot on your chest.

“No,” came a voice at the enterance to the ally. “Just a randy couple back here.”

You heard him walk away, and the hammering of your heart in your chest was due only in part to the small fraction of relief at his exit. Jake licked into your mouth like a man starved, delving deeper with each pass of his tongue against yours. You felt your hips rock against his knee, and you let out a desperate keen when he pulled his lips away from you. He kissed from the corner of your mouth and down the expanse of your neck. Finding a spot below your ear that made you give out a particularly loud noise, he smiled against you before honing in. He left little nips to the spot, soothing the sting with his tongue before sucking a bruise into your skin.

“Jake,” you cried out, the pleasure clouding your mind. Jake pulled back to look at you, eyes blazing and darkened with lust. He studied you for a brief moment before a salacious grin broke out across his kiss swollen lips. His right hand moved to grab your breast, squeezing gently at the same time he ground his knee into your core. You let out a quiet wail, arching into his touch, desperate to have his lips back on you. He complied with a chuckle, leaning back in to bury his face into your neck. His left hand still sat on your hip, and he used it to help grind you against him. He left hot, open-mouthed kisses as he made his way from the base of your neck and up to your ear.

“I should take you over my knee, you know,” he ground out hotly, nipping at your earlobe. “Walking around here at night with no one to accompany you. Lucky for you I happened to be walking along.”

You let out a choked gasp as he removed his right hand from your chest, sliding it down and under your skirts. With expertise, he bunched the offending material at your waist before reaching his hand into your drawers. Your head hit the wall when you felt his finger press against your entrance.

“So wet for me already, sweeheart, and I’ve barely even touched you,” he murmured into your ear. “Nobody has ever touched you like this, have they, angel?”

You shook your head, too far gone to answer and certainly too far gone to care about the consequences. He pressed a finger into you, your mind going blank at the sudden intrusion. His finger felt so big inside of you, and you let out another choked gasp at the slight burn as he stretched you.

“I know, sweet girl,” he cooed into your ear, slowly adding a second finger and thrusting up into you. “Let me make you feel good, darlin’.”

Your cries grew higher pitched as he slowly began to pick up the pace of his hand, palm brushing the little bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he moaned hotly into your ear, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek that served as a stark contrast to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. Your cheeks grew hot as you heard the squelch that sounded every time he pumped into you. “Do you hear that, pretty girl? You’re pussy is so gready, sweet thing. She keeps sucking me back in like she doesn’t want me to leave.”

He licked a strip up from the base of your neck back up to your jaw before giving the skin there a gentle nip.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Feels good to just lean back and let me take care o’ you lke this. Nobody is ever going to make you feel like the way you do right now. Only I can make you feel this good.”

“Jakey,” you whined, reaching down to draw him into a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, pulling back to stare at you hotly.

“Say it again,” he whispered against your lips, fingers moving faster as he chased your high. You felt an unfamiliar pressure begin to build in your lower stomach as you ground down onto his hand.

“Jake,” you gasped, but he shook his head, fixing you with a stern look. You felt the hot sting of tears kiss at your eyes, crying out when he slowed his movements down to a crawl. His eyes bore into you, and you tried desperately to move your hips against him, but his hand had you pinned. He tsked up at you with a borderline sneer at your pitiful attempts to get yourself off.

“Try again, sweet girl.”

“Jakey, please,” you cried, feeling a tear escape and roll down your cheek. Jake hushed you, once again resuming the pace of his thrusts. You clutched at him desperately, nails digging into the exposed skin of his chest. Jake let out a soft hiss and slipped a third finger into you, causing a loud cry to spill out past your lips. He crooked his fingers in a “come hither” motion that had you gushing around the invading appendages. He smiled. “There she is.”

“Tell me who this sweet, little cunt belongs to,” he demanded. You clenched around him at his words, a strangled moan slipping past his lips at how tight you felt.

“You,” you cried, more tears streaming down your cheeks, begging desperately for your release as you stared into his green eyes.

“What’s my name, sweetheart?” He demanded, focusing his fingers on that one spot inside you that had you crying out and clutching at him every time. “C’mon, sweet girl. What’s my name?”

“Jakey!” you cried wantonly, burying your face into his neck. His groans became breathless and constant as you began to press sweet, chaste kisses to the spot between his neck and shoulder.

“Again,” he ground out, feeling you squeeze him impossibly tighter as you neared your end. “Let this whole town know who you belong to.”

“Jakey!” you wailed at the top of your lungs. Your gaze flashed white as you came hard around him, biting into the juncture of his shoulder. You felt your release gush out past his fingers as he continued thrusting, riding out your high.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he hummed into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you calmed down. “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

As your breathing returned to normal, Jake slowly pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to hiss at how empty you suddenly felt. Jake chuckled, holding your gaze as he brought his fingers up this lips. He sucked on them with a hum as he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you. You choked out a breath at the sight, the fire inside of you returning with a vengeance at the sight.

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you, dropping his fingers back to his side. His gaze was affectionate as he leaned forward to nuzzle your nose with his. “Just as I thought.”

You looked up at him in confusion. A smirk played on his lips.

“Sweet as honey.”

Jake made sure your skirt was on correctly before pulling you by the hand out of the allyway. He walked you quickly to your front door, stopping you with a grab of your wrist before you went inside. You turned to him with a confused frown as he looked affectionately down at you, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, so quick you weren’t sure he had even done it. He let go of your wrist and took one step down off the porch.

“Goodnight, Scout.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

The next morning your brother greeted you with a scowl, chastising you for getting home so late.

“What were you even doing, Scout?” he griped. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you refused to look at him.

“I just lost track of the time while talking with Penny,” you answered him, quickly clearing the plates from the table. Benjamin’s scowl grew deeper at your answer.

“That was stupid,” he snapped, earning a glare from you. “You need to be more careful. Who knows what could have happe-”

“Benji, it’s fine,” you cut him off with a huff. Placing your hands on your hips, you watched him as he moved to put his work boots on to go outside. “I know last night isn’t what has you in such a foul mood, so what is it? What happened?”

He didn’t say anything as you followed him towards towards the back door.

“Benji?”

“We hired on a new ranch hand,” he said evenly, this tone worrying you more than the previous one. “Was real insistent he get a job here too.”

“Alright?” you questioned, following him down the steps and into the yard. You saw four figures hammering away at the fence posts down by the barn, and you took quick steps to keep up with your brother’s longer ones. “Do we not have enough to pay him?”

“Nothing like that,” Benjamin muttered, casting a quick glance your way before back at the figures ahead of you. “Just know I blame you for this.”

“Benjamin, are you going to tell me what this is about or-”

You were cut off as the men stopped their hammering to look at the two of you as you approached. Each one greeted you, but your eyes were glued to the newcomer. An easy grin hung on his lips and mirthful, green eyes stared at you as you gaped.

“Hey there, honey girl.”

[justastraymoa]

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 13

Masterlist

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

Day 5, at 3 in the morning, there was a knock on the hotel door. Immediately, you were awake, and your heart was racing. You remained absolutely still and silent. No one knew where you were, so you weren't expecting any visitors. Especially not at three in the morning. No one randomly visited at 3 in the morning.

The second knock came with a familiar voice. “Y/n, please let me in.” Seungmin could be barely heard through the thick door.

How did he manage to find you, and why was he here? The anxiety didn't dissipate as you double checked the peephole before opening the door. He was alone, leaning close to the door, trying to listen inside.

As soon as the door opened, he shoved into it like he was afraid you were going to shut it again. He looked at you a little crazed as you stood with the door open, shocked and confused.

“No need to act like a madman. I was going to let you in.” You finally say, opening the door fully and gesturing him inside.

The adrenaline and anxiety were making you dizzy, and you wanted to lay back down to ease it, so you were not in the best mood to have another argument with Minnie.

He stepped the rest of the way in, and you shut and locked the door behind him, waiting for him to begin the conversation.

“You left.” He accused when you finally turned around to face him.

You stepped around him and found a sweatshirt to put on. It was a bit chilly outside of your blankets. “It was for the best. I sent a message.”

“It didn't say where you were! Where you were going!”

Good point, it didn't. “How did you find me?”

“All our phones are tracked by the company; in case something happens.”

Thats mildly creepy.

Minnie ran a hand over his hair, still looking wild eyed. “You left! For a week!”

“It hasn't been a week yet. And I was working, so you knew I was fine.”

“You left us!” He was insistent.

You threw up your hands and let them fall, slapping your thighs. “You yelled at me! I fucked up and you all started arguing! It was my fault!”

“We weren’t arguing! They were yelling at me!”

You were crying – again. Your emotions are all coming out as tears lately. “I was there Minnie. It was an argument!”

He stepped forward and gently placed his hands on either side of your neck, rubbing his thumbs under your ears. “They were yelling at me because I was wrong. I was yelling back because I suck at emotions.”

“It was still because of what I did.”

“No. It was because I hurt you. Said things I knew would hurt you, because I’m stupid.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “I should have told you. I should have remembered something so important.”

Minnie let you go in favor of grabbing some tissues and drying your tears. “You were drugged and kidnapped, waking up to a whole new situation. You handled everything as well as anyone could have.” He was gentle in both action and words. “Its JYP I am mad at. For even touching you. But I can't yell at him, so I unfairly took it out on you.”

You laugh breathily. This sounded suspiciously like something someone else you both knew would say. “You’ve been talking to Chan.”

He shrugged. “He has good fatherly advice. Sometimes.”

You were silent for awhile, Min still cleaning your cheeks. You were just watching him, noting that your soul bond hurt just a little less with him here.

“Honestly hes the only one whos really talked to me since we got your message. I am so sorry, Y/n.”

“I didn’t leave because I was upset with you. I left because I fucked everything up. I fucked up everyones bond with eachother. I figured a couple weeks away from me would help you guys bond again. And then I could come back and figure out what we should do.”

“You didn’t screw anything up. And there is nothing to figure out except how fast I can get you home.” He denied, hands back on your neck like he can't stand not touching you even for a few moments.

“I lied to you.”

“Forgetting is not lying. It was wrong of me to say that. And you were not the only one to forget.”

“About speaking Korean?”

Minnie chuckled. “Honestly that was our fault for assuming. We never asked or anything. You just did it for fun.”

That was true. It was for fun, and you would have revealed yourself earlier if you needed to, or if they had asked. You wouldn’t have continued the lie.

He stepped into your personal space, resting his forehead on yours. The contact made the dizziness dim for a minute. The bond being soothed. The dizziness and weakness would go away completely once you were around everyone again.

“Please come back. We are all miserable without you.” He begged softly.

Unable to resist you snaked your fingers just under his shirt to get to skin, rubbing his waist softly. His skin was warm under the pads of your cold fingers. He shivered slightly.

“Your fingers are so cold.” He complained, but he didn’t move away from the touch.

“Sorry.” You mumble also not removing your hands. “Its three thirty in the morning.” You point out as you both stood there rocking side to side. It was late, or early depending on how you looked at it, and not a good time to go back.

You ended up sleeping in the hotel room. Minnie holding you close until his phone blared, waking you both up.

You rolled over to look at your own phone while he answered his. Five minutes before your alarm was set to go off. Great.

“Im with her now…last night…I know, but I couldn’t wait anymore…bu-…sorry, Hyung…sure.” Minnies one-sided conversation told a whole story. Looking over, he held the phone out to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

You looked at the caller id. Channie. Then back to Minnie, worried. Everyone was yelling when you left, and from what Min said, the argument was never really finished or repaired. It's just been sitting in limbo. Festering.

“The only thing anyone is mad at you for is leaving. We were really worried about you.” Min assured you.

Taking a deep breath you accepted the phone, putting it to your ear with a small ‘hello’.

“For the love of everything, get your ass home!” Chans tinny voice came over the line. He sounded relieved. There was a crash and commotion on the other end of the line you didn’t recognize.

“Okay. Ill be home after work. Theres a concept meeting this morning.” He knew that because he was supposed to be there as well.

There was a pause as he decided if you could skip the meeting. “Crap! At least answer your texts, then.”

You were kind of afraid to now, thanks for that Channie.

“Okay…I’m sorry.”

Minnie scooted closer to you and the phone to try and hear what Chan was saying. Being generally nosey.

You heard Chan take a deep breath and let it out. “Don’t be sorry, love, just…don’t disappear again. Don’t leave.”

Minnie helped you pack up and gather all the things you had let spread out around the room during your stay, so it didn’t take long to be ready to go. You got ready for the meeting in the hotel room because you really didn’t have time to go home first. Minnie stayed nearby the entire time, not willing to even let you out of his sight.

You didn’t actually open your messages until you were both in the car on the way to the company. Minnie seated close beside you, possessive hand on your thigh.

There were over a hundred unread messages on your phone, making you grimace. You hadn’t realized they had messaged that much. You skimmed over them quickly, getting a good gist of the storyline since you left.

There were several more messages from them begging you to answer or come back before it seemed they gave up for the night because the next one was in the morning and from Chan.

There was another time break here. Them setting up their cameras to cover your work made you smile. That was such a thoughtful thing to do, and you felt bad for not seeing it and saying so immediately.

The messages got increasingly desperate as time went on. They were trying to go about their days as usual, but at the same time using every opportunity to try and get you to answer them.

As you pulled to a stop in front of the company you sent out a couple messages real fast, even though you were sure they all knew you were coming home by now. Chan wouldn’t have kept that from them.

You had a feeling the second message would be ignored by everyone. Certainly Minnie, who didn’t seem to be planning on leaving your side any time soon. However, the meeting started soon, so the message was all you could do for now.

As soon as you got into the relative privacy of the company Chan was waiting. He engulfed you in a hug, hiding his face in your hair and letting out a sigh of relief.

You rubbed his back and moved slightly to kiss his hair. “Im sorry for disappearing. I thought it was for the best.”

Pulling away, Chan fiddled with your hair and clothes for a few seconds. “Meeting now. We can talk later.”

Minnie followed you all the way to the conference room but didn’t plan on going inside. You kissed his cheek before letting Chan lead you away.

The meeting went on for several hours. Hours where the dizziness you had thought dissipated with Minnie came back with a vengeance. You were feeling lightheaded with it and flushed. You couldn’t wait for the meeting to be over so you could get to the others and this horrible feeling would leave.

Minnie was waiting in the same spot you left him when you and Chan walked out, like he hasn’t moved at all. Maybe he hadn’t, you were afraid to ask.

Your head swam as you read the messages, still not feeling the greatest. You knew they would never listen to you. Canceling just caused more work for everyone, and it made them look flakey, but they didn’t seem to care at the moment, and nothing you could say would make them care. Not right now, at least.

You stumbled as the dizziness intensified briefly and both Chan and Minnie caught you. “Thanks. Guess I shouldn’t text and walk.” You joked.

Talking about your phone made you remember the tracking system on it, and you were again weirded out about the whole thing. Maybe you could figure out a way to turn it on and off. You didn’t like creepy ass JYP having access to your location 24/7. It made your skin crawl.

Both Chan and Minnie stuck to your side as you all waited for the car to come around to pick you up. Chan fixed your hair or adjusted your clothes constantly, Minnie had his fingers slightly under your shirt, tucked into your pants at your hip, rubbing at the skin he found there.

The lightheadedness got worse, and the dizziness was turning into a loud buzzing in your head. Your flush from earlier was turning into a full-blown hot flash and you started to feel shaky, so the comforting touches from your soulmates were a welcome distraction. They helped ground you and keep you upright through the waves of dizziness.

Maybe you were actually getting sick, and it wasn’t just being away from your soul mates for so long. That’s just what you needed, a bug, on top of everything else. You leaned into Minnie, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

“Not feeling well?” Chan asked as soon as he noticed.

You made a negative noise. “Not for a couple days now. Im so hot and dizzy. Blegh!”

Minnie put his arm around you now, supporting you firmly. “Its probably from that hotel.”

“It was a very nice hotel.” You protest. You were rather impressed with it. Chans cool fingers rested on your forehead, providing brief relief as he tested your temperature.

“It was passable.”

“Youre just bougie.”

He couldn’t argue with that. It wasn’t like he had ever had to stay in places like that in his life. To him, it was a barely livable situation.

The fresh air was welcome as you made your way to the car. It was a pretty day out. The kind of day you would usually open your windows for, letting the apartment air out. You weren't even sure if your new apartment windows even opened.

You think you were actually sweating now you were so overheated. And your legs were weak and full of jello. You fanned yourself with your hand as you rode.

When you caught Chan watching you concerned you tried your best to pull yourself together so he wouldn’t have to worry. You had made them all worry enough over the last few days, no need to make it worse. You could push through whatever this was, you had been through worse.

Which is why you popped out of the car with a pep in your step and a smile, only to immediately get swamped with black coldness that was so reminiscent of your first day here it made panic spike in your stomach.

The panic brought you back quickly. You were looking up at Chan and Minnie only a few seconds later. Their voices were still muffled and figures blurry at the edges as your brain and eyes struggled to work again.

With a grunt you sat up, shaking your head out. The car was gone, but it looked like security was surrounding you, giving you privacy.

“We need to get you inside.” Chan said scooping you into his arms and rushing into the building where you were out of the public eye.

Off in a little nook, Chan sat you on a cushioned bench and squatted in front of your knees, checking for injuries.

“Im okay. Must have gotten up too fast.” You were stil shaking the last of the blurry vision off.

“Bullshit.” Chan started. You blinked at him. He actually sounded angry. “When was the last time you ate?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but was brought up short when you realized you couldn’t remember. When was the last time you ate? For a second you wanted to look at your calender like eating was a scheduled task for you.

You had kept yourself so busy the last few days, you don’t remember eating anything. You remember drinking water and coffee, but no food. Not a morsel. Did you really go almost 5 days without food and not even realize it until now? No wonder you were feeling like shit. Your blood sugar was in the basement!

Your look and pause must have said it all. “Im telling Bin.” Chan warned.

“How do you not remember when you last ate!” Minnie snapped.

“Don’t tell Bin. I’ll eat when we get upstairs, promise! I just had other things on my mind and forgot, is all!” You whine and beg. Bin freaked out when you missed a single day of meals. He would go ballistic over missing nearly a full week. And passing out!

Chan was already on his phone and typing. “Too late.”

“Tattletale.” You sigh looking at your phone as the text telling Bin you didn’t eat came through.

“Yup. Lets go.” He seemed proud of himself. This was definitely some kind of petty revenge for leaving and ignoring them.

Minnie snickered behind you as you walked, and you groaned.

Some kind of chocolate chip loaded bread was shoved in your hand as soon as you took your shoes off at the door. Not even a 'hello' first.

“Bet you didn’t eat at all did you. Not since the day you abandoned us!” Bin was already lecturing you, watching as you chewed on your sweet treat.

“I did not abandon you.” You denied.

“We were definitely abandoned.” Ayen pouted hugging you and tucking his head under your chin like a small child would.

You mussed his hair affectionately, still diligently eating the bread as Bin watched.

“Ayen, let her in so she can sit and have a proper meal.” Lino called from the kitchen.

“I just had sweet bread.” You didn’t want to eat too much at once and make yourself sick after so long.

“Lixs banana bread does not count as a meal. I’m making soup.”

Like he was summoned Lix appeared from the living room, followed by Hannie and Hyune. His face lit up when he saw me. “I made a cuddle pile spot with Hyune and Hannie for after dinner.” He announced proudly, giving you a kiss.

“First we will all sit and talk about what happened while the soup finishes.” Chan said ushering everyone to the table to sit.

You scrunched your nose but allowed the ushering.

😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi @simpforskz143148 @xxeiraxx @lil-bear08 @brbwritingfanfic @jisungs-iced-americano @zofia515 @missvanjiii @malyxsoulpersonal @silentreadersthings @pixie0627 @babygirlskz98 @hpnsfwaddict

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

[aspd-culture]

aspd culture (onset since young childhood) is wishing the community would talk more about how traumatic it is to grow up like this. not just because of what’s been done to us to make us this way but how traumatic it is to grow up antisocial. i have so much grief about it.

CW, for pwASPD, this may be upsetting to read.

Completely agree, like yes to get this disorder, we had trauma to begin with, but also growing up with ASPD is extremely traumatic itself. The earlier the antisocial traits come up, the more risk the child in question will spend their whole life ostracized and potentially hated for things they cannot control.

A child with antisocial traits appears (in my experience from discussions with prosocials about how they saw me when they met me) to have a similar “uncanny valley” impact that autistic people get. Somehow, it really feels like the second I met someone, they knew something I didn’t know about myself - saw something wrong with me I couldn’t see. I was told I was “weird” by people who didn’t know me - which is the autism - but also people I’d never met said they were scared of me. This sometimes continues into adulthood, or sometimes we get good enough at masking that people stop being able to tell. Regardless, there are almost always a number of years we deal with that, leading us to have less if any friends on top of what we’re already dealing with.

And that’s not all - we also have to deal with the symptoms themselves without having any idea what’s going on. Our brain has been convinced we can only trust ourselves and that everyone is out for only themselves and we can’t trust anyone fully. We grow up often without being able to let anyone but a close few in, if that. We grow up without the instincts or understanding of how and why other humans form these deep social connections and how they’re doing it safely but we can’t seem to be able to without getting hurt.

And humans, as pack animals, need to be around other humans and have close bonds to feel safe since in the wild we wouldn’t have been safe on our own. This means our hypervigilance from PTSD is often exponentially more intense because it is always on the high alert of a pack animal forced to live on its own. That can also strain any relationships with Exceptions if we have any because we may cling to them early on as our brain struggles to try and form the bonds it instinctually feels it needs to survive and protect itself with whatever “pack” it can manage to build. On top of that, any bonds our Exceptions make may feel like they are putting themselves in danger and we need to protect them. In some cases this will cause us extreme anxiety, in others it may lead to us engaging in toxic behaviors to try and isolate them to keep them safe, and in others still it may make us feel forced to abandon them or at least distance from them and lose one of our few close social bonds to protect ourself since we can’t protect them.

Also if the “switch flipped” (for those who had that experience) late enough that we were already in these social bonds, there may have been this sinking distrust of people we were already close to that we’d made some grave mistake trusting them, and closing off to the world like this can be terrifying because it’s a neurological difference - our development isn’t going the way it’s supposed to be and the gap between how our peers interact and see the world vs how we do just keeps getting wider.

And that’s not even all of it - I have an alter who had much less of the antisocial traits in childhood (no alter can have no symptoms of a neurological difference, but remember the reason ASPD can’t be diagnosed under 18 is that the brain has not been set in that development yet - in many ways this alter acted out the goals of a brain trying desperately to develop properly and outrun the closing of the period where I couldn’t socially develop that way), so I didn’t have to live like this all day every day until around 13. I’m sure for those that didn’t have that split but still had their brain attempting normal development, it was even more distressing and traumatic to feel that pull towards people at the same time as that push away from them.

On top of all of that, antisocial traits can worsen or create abuse for the child because the way they act offends authority figures and/or bullies, and this can put or leave us in harm’s way as they choose to actively target us or refuse to protect us the way they would other kids when someone else targets us. And then there’s the disciplinary action and deep cuts to self esteem if the child deals with the more violent symptoms - often, children engaging in those behaviors aren’t recognized as needing help. They’re either considered bad kids or products of bad parents and dismissed or actively berated by the people who could help them to understand what’s happening and do better.

If we ever do understand what’s happening because of getting help, sometimes the professional themselves is ableist and will take that ableism out on a child with antisocial traits.

By the time we accept what’s happening - whether we know what it is or not - we are very aware that our experience is different than the other kids. It’s not hard to see that they’ve been dealt a different - and from the outside, often seemingly better - hand than we have.

If we get diagnosed (or self diagnose) as an adult, now we get hit with the fact that this can’t be diagnosed until adulthood and why. Even when we thought we were stuck with this, apparently someone could have done something to get us back to normal development. Not everyone wants that, but for those of us that do there is so much grief at realizing how low the bar is to help a child process would-be PTSD so it doesn’t become PTSD and especially at how low the percentage of needs that need to be met to form a secure attachment style. Things could have been different. They should have been different. There was so much time and such a low bar to meet and instead we got this.

Having ASPD very often causes a lot of grief, and in return we’re often treated like monsters if we talk about it.

To be clear this is not exhaustive of the trauma growing up with ASPD causes - it is some of mine and some I’ve heard from others with ASPD speak about - but it also isn’t universal. Not every pwASPD has experienced every piece of what I’ve discussed here (for example I have not dealt with every one of these things, but I’ve dealt with a majority of it), what exact trauma they endure from growing up with ASPD involves many factors like what trauma caused it and how old they were when the traits started to show up etc.

Plain text below the cut:

CW, for pwASPD, this may be upsetting to read.

Completely agree, like yes to get this disorder, we had trauma to begin with, but also growing up with ASPD is extremely traumatic itself. The earlier the antisocial traits come up, the more risk the child in question will spend their whole life ostracized and potentially hated for things they cannot control.

A child with antisocial traits appears (in my experience from discussions with prosocials about how they saw me when they met me) to have a similar “uncanny valley” impact that autistic people get. Somehow, it really feels like the second I met someone, they knew something I didn’t know about myself - saw something wrong with me I couldn’t see. I was told I was “weird” by people who didn’t know me - which is the autism - but also people I’d never met said they were scared of me. This sometimes continues into adulthood, or sometimes we get good enough at masking that people stop being able to tell. Regardless, there are almost always a number of years we deal with that, leading us to have less if any friends on top of what we’re already dealing with.

And that’s not all - we also have to deal with the symptoms themselves without having any idea what’s going on. Our brain has been convinced we can only trust ourselves and that everyone is out for only themselves and we can’t trust anyone fully. We grow up often without being able to let anyone but a close few in, if that. We grow up without the instincts or understanding of how and why other humans form these deep social connections and how they’re doing it safely but we can’t seem to be able to without getting hurt.

And humans, as pack animals, need to be around other humans and have close bonds to feel safe since in the wild we wouldn’t have been safe on our own. This means our hypervigilance from PTSD is often exponentially more intense because it is always on the high alert of a pack animal forced to live on its own. That can also strain any relationships with Exceptions if we have any because we may cling to them early on as our brain struggles to try and form the bonds it instinctually feels it needs to survive and protect itself with whatever “pack” it can manage to build. On top of that, any bonds our Exceptions make may feel like they are putting themselves in danger and we need to protect them. In some cases this will cause us extreme anxiety, in others it may lead to us engaging in toxic behaviors to try and isolate them to keep them safe, and in others still it may make us feel forced to abandon them or at least distance from them and lose one of our few close social bonds to protect ourself since we can’t protect them.

Also if the “switch flipped” (for those who had that experience) late enough that we were already in these social bonds, there may have been this sinking distrust of people we were already close to that we’d made some grave mistake trusting them, and closing off to the world like this can be terrifying because it’s a neurological difference - our development isn’t going the way it’s supposed to be and the gap between how our peers interact and see the world vs how we do just keeps getting wider.

And that’s not even all of it - I have an alter who had much less of the antisocial traits in childhood (no alter can have no symptoms of a neurological difference, but remember the reason ASPD can’t be diagnosed under 18 is that the brain has not been set in that development yet - in many ways this alter acted out the goals of a brain trying desperately to develop properly and outrun the closing of the period where I couldn’t socially develop that way), so I didn’t have to live like this all day every day until around 13. I’m sure for those that didn’t have that split but still had their brain attempting normal development, it was even more distressing and traumatic to feel that pull towards people at the same time as that push away from them.

On top of all of that, antisocial traits can worsen or create abuse for the child because the way they act offends authority figures and/or bullies, and this can put or leave us in harm’s way as they choose to actively target us or refuse to protect us the way they would other kids when someone else targets us. And then there’s the disciplinary action and deep cuts to self esteem if the child deals with the more violent symptoms - often, children engaging in those behaviors aren’t recognized as needing help. They’re either considered bad kids or products of bad parents and dismissed or actively berated by the people who could help them to understand what’s happening and do better.

If we ever do understand what’s happening because of getting help, sometimes the professional themselves is ableist and will take that ableism out on a child with antisocial traits.

By the time we accept what’s happening - whether we know what it is or not - we are very aware that our experience is different than the other kids. It’s not hard to see that they’ve been dealt a different - and from the outside, often seemingly better - hand than we have.

If we get diagnosed (or self diagnose) as an adult, now we get hit with the fact that this can’t be diagnosed until adulthood and why. Even when we thought we were stuck with this, apparently someone could have done something to get us back to normal development. Not everyone wants that, but for those of us that do there is so much grief at realizing how low the bar is to help a child process would-be PTSD so it doesn’t become PTSD and especially at how low the percentage of needs that need to be met to form a secure attachment style. Things could have been different. They should have been different. There was so much time and such a low bar to meet and instead we got this.

Having ASPD very often causes a lot of grief, and in return we’re often treated like monsters if we talk about it.

To be clear this is not exhaustive of the trauma growing up with ASPD causes - it is some of mine and some I’ve heard from others with ASPD speak about - but it also isn’t universal. Not every pwASPD has experienced every piece of what I’ve discussed here (for example I have not dealt with every one of these things, but I’ve dealt with a majority of it), what exact trauma they endure from growing up with ASPD involves many factors like what trauma caused it and how old they were when the traits started to show up etc.

[deezbutz28]

let me fix that… / jay

a/n: hi guys!! it’s been a while, but it’s almost 1 am and i feel like cooking lol

tags: fluff fluff fluff

synopsis: y/n tells jay something from her past, and jay decides to fix it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

you never talked much about high school, especially with jay. it’s not that it was a tragic horrible experience, more so that your senior year ended in not an ideal way…

you finally ditched your toxic “bff”, had multiple people talk behind your back (those who were once your friends), and your coach had it out for you. but the one thing that sticks out the most is senior prom.

let’s just say the guy you had asked to go with you, ditched you a few weeks before… and made up and elaborate lie so he could to prom with your friend from another school. to add on that, they started dating.

the boy had broke your heart. you devoted three years to crushing on him, and when you had finally had the guts to make a move… it backfired, horribly.

but all that pain, had eventually led you to jay. he had approached you during orientation week and from then on you were inseparable. he had shown you a how a real man treats someone romantically.

jay had shown you love.

so, one day when your mom sent you a picture from your high school days jay got curious and decided to ask.

you two were cuddling on the couch, and you felt jay place his chin on your head. “oh my gosh, my baby is so pretty in that picture…” while saying this his grip tightens on your waist.

then jay starts asking questions about you in high school. all of course in a loving way!

you tell what you were involved in, grades, and the part about your “friends.” until finally jay wants to see pictures of you at prom.

he showers you in numerous compliments when you show him your junior prom pictures, and grumbles when he sees you with your date. then he finally asked to see your senior prom pictures.

you stiffen in his arms, and that leads to jay turning you to face him.

“did i say something wrong baby? i don’t mean to upset you… i just wanted to see how beautiful you looked in the dre-“

you interrupt jay by putting your hand over his mouth. “no baby you didn’t say anything wrong… it’s just that i didn’t go to my senior prom” you say in a whisper due to the embarrassment entering your brain.

“WHAT? WHY” jay asked with full shock lacing his voice. you quietly explain to him the situation with the guy and your friend… and during the whole time jay clearly sees how it’s hurts you still. but, he tries to comfort you by holding you close, and giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

you assure him that you are fine now, just it’s a bit hard to bring it up.

“he’s an asshole, if i ever see him i swear to god… im going to rub in his face that im the lucky one who ended up with you. didn’t fumble like that dumbass”

you chuckle at jays words and give him a soft kiss on his cheek. “thank you jay, really thank you…”

as time passes you try steering the conversation to a different topic. talking about how crazy your high school was.

a few days go by and it’s finally the weekend. and what you told jay has been in his head… for awhile. he wants to make it up to you, and to possibly replace the bad memory with a good one.

jay <3: hi baby, get dressed i’m gonna take you out!! perhaps maybe… wear a dress? i’ll be at your dorm in an hour :)

y/n: weird… but okay? see you then !!

you decide not question jay, because he always has some weird antics going on.

you decide to put on a dark blue dress that reaches your ankles. finally deciding to wear it after having it stored in your closet for months. you do your hair and makeup, and just as you finished you hear a knock at your door.

you open the door to see jay holding a bouquet of yellow tulips, your favorite flower.

“jay! what the heck! what’s this for?” you ask him in shock as he hands the bouquet to you.

he reaches down to give you a small peck, “you look stunning. i wanted to treat you! now cmon we should leave… now! let’s go”

he grabs your hand and you race down the stairs, until you finally reach jays car. you and jays shared playlist already playing.

“are you going to kill me… why are we going so fast?”

jay smirks at your rushed question. “i don’t want to be late for our reservation… now, no more questions. let me just take care of my baby, ok?”

you nod your head, as jay holds your hand as he starts driving.

finally, you get to… a jazz club? as you are about to open your mouth, jay shushes you.

“no questions!”

he opens the door for you and extends his hand to help you out. walking side by side, you enter the club. it’s dim lighting and the soft hum of music pull you in.

“wow… jay this is… amazing!” you say in pure awe as the waiter takes you to your table.

“you like it? i wasn’t sure if it was a bit cringe or not. i’ve been looking at places like this for the past few days.” jay says in a bashful tone.

“hello!! this is amazing jay! but, i’m not forgetting like an anniversary or birthday right?”

“no baby, i wanted to do it because i love you.” jays says reaching for your hand across the table and giving it a few squeezes.

then, your waiter swings by to grab your orders. as you finish the waiter says, “feel free to dance or lounge by the stage… we’ll grab you when your food is ready!”

once the waiter leaves, jay grabs you by the hand and asks, “will you dance with me y/n?”

you nod and he leads you to the middle of the small crowd of couples.

the song was slow and you and jay intertwine with each other. you head resting comfortably on his chest.

“jay?”

“yes?”

“what’s the real reason why you’re doing this?”

jay pulls back and looks at you lovingly. “i wanted to do this because after you told me about your senior prom and that asshole, i wanted to replace that memory with this… so, i tried to replicate prom as much as i could without being too corny. i wanted to put an us twist on prom.”

you jaw hangs as he confesses his reasons for all of this. you’re amazed at how lucky you are to find someone so sweet and loving like jay.

after a few moments you kiss jay on the mouth. as you pull back you smile so widely. “jay… i love you i love you i love you! this is the most sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. i literally don’t even know how i can express my gratitude and love for you fully!!”

jay kisses the top of you head and whispers, “i have a few ideas… for when we get back… ya know what i mean.”

you playfully swat his chest, and go back to your original position.

just two lovers holding each other and swaying to the music. so in love.

[why-am-i-simping-for-a-train]

Things in The Lost Boys novelization that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I read it.

First of all Marko’s name is spelled Marco the whole book. I have zero clue why.

The officer that kicked them off the boardwalk at the beginning has two children and failed police schoool.

He also wishes the boardwalk would give him a gun so he can shoot at the gangs to scare them off

One of the reasons Micheal hates the move to Santa Carla is because he was in the beginnings of a relationship back in Arizona

Lucy ran away from home when she was a teenager and hichhiked all the way to the Golden Gate park where she spent the night.

Micheals father and Grandpa got into a fistfight at his grandmothers gravesite during her funeral

Dwanye likes to skateboard and is really good at it

Micheal thinks that he is hallucinating his rice and noodles as maggots and worms because he ‘smoked too much weed’ (Now i’m no marujania expert but I’m pretty sure that’s not how weed works, sir)

Sam tries to smoke weed by rolling up a single leaf, not by rolling a leaf into a blunt, just lighting a leaf on fire basically

There’s a scene where Nanook won’t stop licking Micheals feet because they’re covered in salt for some reason???

One night after Lucy gets off of work the Lost Boys corner harass her until Max steps in to save her (this is actually a deleted scene that you can find on youtube)

Star used to live in an abusive home before she ran away to Santa Carla where David found her sleeping on the beach.

At one point, Micheal tries to take a shower, but the running water feels “boiling hot” and causes rashes to appear on his skin (it’s an old myth that vampires can’t cross running water) this is only one of a few things that I use to back up my headcanon that the lost boys smell like dog shit

Micheal eats a rat

According to Star, Dwayne is “A bit awkward” (socially inept Dwyane save me).

Paul is the newest vampire in the group and because of that Star assumes he still remembers what its like to be human, and because of that he tries to cheer her up when she is upset.

When Marko dies black sludge strats to come out of his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth and his body rapidly decomposes turning into a “mound of clothes and decomposing flesh”

When all The Lost Boys are dying in the house Star can hear them all dying from the upstairs room and it greatly upsets her. Omg it’s honestly such a sad moment because she realizes that if they don’t die she and Laddie will be stuck with them literally forever but she’s still kinda close to them and hearing them die is traumatic. Dear god someone get that woman a quiet life and a ton of therapy.

[deception-united]

Hi!! I'm struggling to write a slow build up to a crumbling relationship between a father and daughter. I don't know how to pace it or space things out.

He doesn't understand her and doesn't try to. I wanna make him a self centered prick.

And I want her to put some effort into trying to fix it, but he's being a complete man child.

(sorry if this is a bad description)

Hi, thanks for asking! When writing a relationship eroding over time, you want to consider pacing and emotional build-up to make your readers effectively feel the weight of it all. Here are some tips!

1. Establish initial cracks

Before things fall apart, the readers need to see that they were never truly whole in the first place—maybe he was never particularly attentive, or she’s always felt like she had to work for his approval. Even if they have good moments, try making them feel fragile, like a peace treaty on borrowed time. Consider small but telling moments that are just enough for the reader to notice the imbalance (they don't need to be dramatic at first). Possible examples:

She shares something important to her, and he brushes it off or twists the conversation back to himself.

She’s visibly upset, but he makes it about his own stress and problems, leaving her unheard.

He talks at her, not to her (interrupting, correcting, dismissing her words, etc.)

2. Give her hope, then take it away

To make the build-up and subsequent devastation hurt, don't have her give up on him immediately, rather putting in the effort, believing he can change (ex: she plans a one-on-one outing, only for him to cancel last minute because something "more important" came up). The key here is for each failed attempt to cost her more.

At first, she might be frustrated but still hopeful ('maybe he just didn't realise' or 'he's probably just really busy'); then, she starts explaining herself more, trying to get through to him. Eventually, her patience will turn to exhaustion—she starts anticipating disappointment.

3. Let him prove himself undeserving

This is where he gets worse: not cartoonishly evil, rather willfully oblivious and self-centered. Maybe:

He acts like he’s the victim whenever she calls him out. Depending on how you want to portray him, you could involve gaslighting or victim blaming here. ('So I’m just the bad guy now?')

He takes her efforts for granted, never reciprocating or even noticing.

When she finally reaches a breaking point and stops trying, he acts shocked and offended, as if she is the one pulling away.

The more she gives, the more it will drain her, until she finally realises she’s given him all she can.

4. Realisation & distancing

By the time she stops trying, she isn’t even angry anymore; she’s just done. Maybe he does something thoughtless that, months ago, would’ve sparked a fight, but instead of arguing, she just doesn't react or care, since she's stopped waiting and hoping for him to change. If their relationship's crumbled to the point of her leaving, maybe she lets his calls go to voicemail or ignores text messages—it reaches the point that if he ever does actually wake up and try to reconnect, it’s too little, too late.

___

Keep in mind that what can make this so painful isn’t just that he’s a bad father, but that she wanted him to be better and tried and hoped and put effort into their relationship which all went ignored and wasted. So try to space it out, letting her fight for him before she realises he's not worth it; and when she walks away, it's feels less like liberation than a funeral for something that could have been a beautiful and healthy relationship if only he'd cared enough.

Hope this helped! Happy writing ❤

Previous

[museofzia]

i’m so scared that once i shift i’ll become too attached to my s/o, and that no one in this reality will “compare” to him. like even if i date someone here, i’ll be missing my s/o. have you experienced that? any advice?

I have never dated anyone in my current reality, whether it be before I shifted, or after. I did experience fear in this field that I would not be able to find someone who even compares to my spouse in my desired realities, but once I shifted-- I realized that Bill has as many flaws as he does qualities. He's funny, he's sweet, he's trustworthy, but he's also short-tempered, not the best at communicating his feelings, and we have occasional arguments. It made me realize while he is the most adoring man I have ever experienced the company of, he is still as humane as I am. He experienced trauma, he gets ticked off, and he gets upset. He also has his moments where I look at him and I feel anger, or I feel disgust, or I even feel the urge to stop talking to him. But in the midst of all of this, my love for him overpowers anything negative-- generally. Maybe it would be in the moment that I believe that I hate him more than anyone in the whole entire world, but if you just gave me a few minutes, a journal, and a photo album, I would realize shortly that that is not true. haha. I believe that love is waiting for you in any reality if you think about it. If your s/o isn't in this reality and you generally believe that you cannot feel any attraction towards anyone else in any other reality, you have every right to stay and accompany yourself, or just not seek out any sense of romance that is external to the romance that you have in your DR. But with the multiverse, the reality that you are in-- whether it is a reality where you are a famous singer dating harry styles, or a reality where you go to a famous wizardry school and you date a bratty British blonde boy, or maybe it's a reality where there is a zombie apocalypse and you're dating a brunette short-haired girl who's known how to use a gun since she was 11 years old. That love you have for that person in that reality will seem to overpower any kind of love you feel. The reality you are in is the reality you prioritize, and once you shift, it still goes the same way. Once you find the person you love, maybe you'll miss your significant other, or maybe you'll love this person so much that you can acknowledge and differentiate your love for this person from the love you have for that person. It sounds confusing now, but it gets more understandable as you begin to navigate your way through your journey more. Things will be okay.

[tellyouily]

soft all the way through

dnf - fluff - 1.4k words

yay new fic :D

read on ao3

-

As he stands in his closet digging around in his top drawer for a t-shirt to wear to bed, Dream reflects on the fact that he’ll have no need for podcasts as long as he has George around.

George can easily – and will happily – do the talking. Or, the yapping, more precisely.

“Dream,” George is saying from his spot in Dream’s bed. “How are we so out of sync?”

There’s a sullenness to his voice that makes Dream smile. His hand touches a white shirt and he pulls it out, letting the drawer roll shut on its own.

George continues, “We’re like, the most out of sync we could possibly be.”

Dream pauses in the opening to his bedroom, his eyes quickly finding George and his cocooned shape on the bed. Taking up about eighty percent of the space, as per usual.

George’s gaze meets his. “And it’s all your fault,” he says.

Dream laughs, glancing down to turn the shirt in his hand the right side out.

“It’s not, George. I promise you it’s just a coincidence. An unlucky coincidence”

“Oh yeah, that every time I ask you to go fishing with me you happen to be busy. Totally a coincidence.”

George is good at sounding convincingly annoyed even when it’s all for show, Dream will give him that.

“Also why are you literally naked right now,” George adds, making Dream laugh and start moving towards him. “That’s like– I don’t even know, salt in the wound.”

“Jeez,” Dream says, pulling the shirt over his head. “Chill out.”

When he gets close enough, he smacks George’s foot on his way to his own side of the bed. That is, the side that’s usually his but is currently mostly occupied.

“Ow!” George yanks his foot into his safe mound of blankets. “What is your problem?”

Smiling softly, Dream only says, “You’re taking up all the space.”

“I’m not.”

George is also good at being the most stubborn person in any room he’s in.

Which isn’t difficult right now when his only competitor is one of the least stubborn people in the whole world, at least when it comes to anything to do with George.

The mattress dips where Dream kneels on it, and even as his knee touches George’s cocoon, George doesn’t move. So Dream gets in bed anyway, sitting down against the headboard; his left leg hanging off the side and his right side pressing all the way close to George’s cocoon.

Even now, George stays unmoving, which makes Dream huff, though the smile hasn’t left his lips.

“George, come on,” he says.

He’s not as good as George is at pretending to be annoyed. Although to be fair, he’s rarely ever annoyed at all when it comes to George.

Dream gives him the gentlest of pushes. “Move over, idiot.”

George, of course, reacts dramatically, rolling over all the way to the other side of the bed without a word.

Taking advantage of the newfound space, Dream scoots down and gets under the spare comforter, settling against his pillow with a sigh.

It’s warm between the sheets. He likes knowing that it’s thanks to George.

Dream turns to look at him, finding his brown eyes already looking; that familiar sullenness is still swirling in them.

“Oh no,” Dream says, a new smile growing on his lips. “I upset the baby.”

He slips one hand, and then the other, into George’s cocoon and starts to pull him closer.

“Poor baby. He can’t even talk, he's so upset.”

George smiles, seemingly involuntarily, and when Dream leans in to try and kiss him, he finally breaks.

“Okay, we get it. You’re annoying,” he laughs, pushing Dream’s face away.

Under the covers, though, he’s all softness, putting up no resistance to Dream wrapping his arms around his middle and pushing his thigh between his.

“See? Now we both fit,” Dream says.

George turns to face him on the pillow they’re now sharing. 

“Not when I leave and go sleep my own bed,” he says.

Dream hums, ignoring him. Gently, of course.

He feels George’s gaze on the side of his face as he reaches blindly for his phone on his nightstand and brings it over his face to unlock it.

He opens his calendar, drawing George’s attention to his screen as well.

A lot of Dream’s recent and upcoming afternoons are blue with various activities. Because yes, he wasn’t lying when he said it’s coincidence and not unwillingness on his part that has kept him from joining George on his fishing adventures.

George hums, probably noticing the same thing.

“But look,” Dream says. “See Thursday? I’m free all that afternoon, just for you.”

He turns to George as he says this, and watches as he proceeds to pull out his own phone and open up the same app. Without a word, George navigates to Dream’s schedule, which he for some reason unknown to Dream has access to, taps on said Thursday on and types Fishing with George IMPORTANT .

Dream laughs. “Alright. Thursday, then. Are you gonna be nice to me now?”

“I am, actually,” George says, sounding pleased.

So it’s settled.

George starts scrolling on Tiktok with the volume turned down, and Dream gets to catching up on the text messages he has left to be answered when he has time.

Time that he finally has, here now with George.

He likes that they can be quiet together like this. It’s been a fact since long before George got to Florida that the two of them have this special access to each other, to their softest states.

“Look.” George tilts his phone towards Dream to show him a video.

It’s a dumb meme, something about Formula 1 that George definitely understands better than him, but it makes Dream smile anyway. Sleepiness is making his thoughts move slower.

“Funny right?” George asks

“Yeah,” Dream agrees. “You’re funny.”

Minutes pass, and he moves onto Reddit. He doesn’t get through many posts, though, before his eyes start to close on their own.

Who needs melatonin when redditors exist out there with the ability to bore him to sleep?

He puts his phone on do-not-disturb and lets it get lost in the sheets, too comfy to plug it in to charge. Within a moment, George sighs and does the same, his hand gravitating instead to Dream’s hair, much to Dream’s contentment.

“Tired?” George asks.

The answer is so obvious that no answer would do, but Dream nods anyway. 

George pushes the hair back from Dream’s forehead for a moment and lets it fall back into place.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks.

Dream closes his eyes, breathing out the day. A question like that presents an opportunity he simply can’t let pass. George must think he’s too tired to notice.

“Your mom,” Dream replies, the corner of his lips tugging upwards just slightly.

He wonders if saying that will ever stop being amusing to him, or whether they’re doomed to make the same joke over and over to each other for the rest of their lives. Dream thinks he wouldn’t mind the latter.

George makes a soft, sarcastic sound that makes Dream smile wider.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Well,” George starts. “You’ll never guess what I’m thinking about.”

Dream laughs tiredly. “I think I can, actually.”

“It’s something very similar.”

“Yeah? What’re you thinking about, George?”

“Your dad. Funnily enough.”

It catches Dream off guard enough to make him open his eyes. Fair play, he thinks, still laughing

“Weren’t expecting that, were you,” George asks, happy with himself.

“No, you kinda got me.”

He closes his eyes again, letting George’s ministrations with his hair pull him back into his thoughts. Back into the fuzzy place in between being awake and not.

After a minute or two, George’s voice brings him closer to the surface again;

“Imagine I could actually read your mind.”

Dream smiles. “Just be a slideshow of you.”

“Do you think?”

“Yeah. Just pictures of like, your face.” Then after a pause:  “And another part of you, that I won’t say.”

“I think you should say it.”

Dream doesn’t, and he won’t, but he likes that he doesn’t have to for it to be true.

George’s hand travels down to the nape of his neck and pinches the skin there once, gently.

“Your big heart,” Dream says, then.

George lets out a soft laugh.

“Nice,” he says. “You’re not tricking anyone.”

He’s right, of course. George is good at being right about things.

And Dream is good at being an open book.

In the comfort of this, of knowing that his feelings are anything but a secret, Dream finally drifts off to sleep.

[c0smickat]

A Sailor’s Song

(Image without text & border below)

[killerandhealerqueen]

You know, when I go on instagram and read comments about Logan (idk why I do that it’s safer on tumblr for the most part), they always say he was a shit driver but it’s like…none of them want to acknowledge the fact that he was driving a SHITTY car made with parts from the previous year, making it heavier AND he didn’t have the same upgrades as Alex. He was making the best of a shitty situation. I don’t think anybody could have done better than him in that car, honestly. But it’s always easier to blame the driver rather than blame the team, right?

[grabby-smitten]

I wonder if somehow he knows what Caleb was doing and how upset we felt so he called to bring some… comfort? (I’m deluluing)

[faramirsonofgondor]

we all know that when jamie said “it’s funny when roy’s yelling at other people” what he really meant was “that was so fucking sexy i want to jump his bones rn” but unfortunately the ted lasso writers are cowards 😔

[lailuhhh]

Thinking about 5x15 and how very distraught Mac was about shooting and killing someone

And then 1x20 deleted scene of Jack asking Mac the last time he shot a gun and if he even remembered how

Something something deep thoughts

[blowingoffsteam2]

Still sitting here stewing in the fact that the manga skipped Riku’s sacrifice