#and that’s okay if you do! but talk about it instead of keeping it to yourself or you’ll get bitter

[satoruswifeyyyy]

satoru gojo is the type of boyfriend to...

masterlist

warnings ⚠️: milf sexual content

satoru is the type of boyfriend to “accidentally” misplace your things at his place so you have to stay longer. oh, your phone charger? lost. your keys? vanished. and he’ll play innocent, looking around like, “wow, weird. guess you’re staying the night!”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to wrap you in a blanket, squish you onto the couch, and play your favorite show when you tell him you’re tired, instead of comforting you. but the catch? he’s sitting right next to you with his big eyes glued on you and will pause every 10 seconds to ask, “are you feeling better yet? how about now?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to remember every little thing you say, so if you mention craving something like a specific pastry or even a seasonal candle, he’ll go to five different stores to find it. and he’ll show up at your door, grinning like a kid, saying, “for my favorite person in the world.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to take every opportunity to show you off. even if it’s just a casual dinner with friends, he’ll find a way to work in how amazing you are, beaming as he watches you blush. he’ll say things like, “you know she’s basically a genius, right? i'm just here for the good looks.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to randomly pull you close in the middle of a crowded street, spinning you around just because. when you ask why, he’ll just shrug and say, “you looked too cute, i couldn’t resist.” he loves making you laugh and seeing you all flustered.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to to whisper sweet things in your ear, even in the middle of a crowd. he’ll lean in and say something like, “do you know how incredible you look today?” just to see you smile, and then he’ll pretend it was nothing when you look back, eyes twinkling.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to go out of his way to pamper you, running his fingers through your hair, bringing you your favorite snacks, and whispering, “I’ll always be here. You know that, right?” , when you tell him you are not feeling well.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to be your personal cheerleader, hyping you up for even the smallest things. got through a tough day? he’s there with chocolates and a whole pep talk ready. and he’ll proudly tell you, “no one can make it look as easy as you do.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to never let a day go by without reminding you he loves you. sometimes it’s a grand declaration with his arms wide open, and other times, it’s a soft whisper before you fall asleep. and he’ll say, “just so you never forget, okay?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to sit tightly and refuse to move, if you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder, even if his arm goes numb. he’ll sit there, smiling like an idiot, staring at you with this soft, mesmerized look, thinking, “how did I get so lucky?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to insist on walking you home, every single time. he’ll joke that he’s “keeping you safe from imaginary threats,” but the truth is he just loves spending those last few moments with you, holding your hand and pretending he has all the time in the world.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to “borrow” your favorite scent to keep with him. he’d “accidentally” swipe your hoodie or spray your perfume on his shirt just so he can feel close to you, especially when you’re not there. when you ask him about it, he’ll shrug and say, “hey, it just reminds me of you. can you blame me?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to leave you voice messages with the sweetest goodnight wishes, describing how he can’t wait to see you tomorrow and how he feels lucky to have you. he’ll say, “i hope you know you’re always on my mind, even when we’re apart,” and you can hear that little softness in his voice that he usually hides.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to make every anniversary a huge deal, no matter how small. he’ll show up with your favorite flowers, make dinner reservations, or even do something totally spontaneous like renting out a whole theater to watch your favorite movie together, because “you deserve the world, and i’m giving you the closest thing to it.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to playfully write “mr. and mrs.” on random papers or text you with your name combined with his last name. when you roll your eyes, he’ll laugh and say, “just a little practice for the future, right?” and his tone is playful, but there’s a part of him that means every word.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to sneak up behind you, wrapping you in his arms out of nowhere. even if you’re in the middle of brushing your teeth, he’ll just hold you close, grin in the mirror, and whisper, “missed you.” when you ask how he could possibly miss you in two minutes, he’ll just smirk and say, “not my fault you’re this addictive.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to send you the goofiest selfies, captioned with the most dramatic things like, “this is the man who’s desperately in love with you.” or he’ll leave voice notes telling you in detail why you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to constantly find little excuses to hold your hand, even if you’re just walking to the fridge. he’ll squeeze your hand three times (his secret “i love you”) and then kiss it when he thinks you aren’t looking, but you’ll catch him smiling to himself like he’s won the lottery.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to surprise you with handwritten love notes, sometimes with silly doodles on the side, tucked into your bag or under your pillow. he’ll write cheesy lines like, “today’s forecast: 100% chance of me loving you,” then play it cool, even though he’s secretly hoping it makes you smile.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to constantly look at you like you hung the stars. even when you’re just talking about your day or doing something random, he’ll be there, staring with that soft, awe-filled look, because he still can’t believe he got this lucky.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to pepper your entire face with kisses, occassionally switching to kitten licks. then, once he is done with your face, he will do the same with your neck. and when you would tell him to stop, he would look at you with the most adorable expression on his face and whine, "i am not done yet." and who could say no to that face?

satoru is the type of boyfriend to buy you lipsticks at every date. not just any lipstick, but branded ones- chanel and dior. when you ask him the reason, he would beg you to use him as canvas and kiss his entire body, while having the lipstick shades on. after you are done marking his face and chest with lipstick stains, he would click a polaroid picture of it.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to snuggle in between your tits, while cuddling. he would lay on top of you, crushing you under his weight, and rest his face in between your breasts. he loves your tits, and has even named them, calling them "my girls". he is the type of initiate nipple play during sex and motorboat you.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to eat you out until your legs tremble and your cries sound desperate, during sex. he claims that he loves hearing your sweet moans and pleadings when he overstimulates you. "i love how you taste", is his excuse for making you cum a manifold times.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to switch positions, every now and then. he loves bending you into a mating press, fucking you in front of the mirror but never doggy style because in satoru's words, "i need to see your face while fucking you baby"

satoru is the type of boyfriend to fuck you raw because of his baby fever. he would love to have a baby with you, who would look just like the two of you. he is the type to talk about marriage and breeding you while having sex.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to enjoy watching you take charge in bedroom. he loves succumbing beneath you because he finds that extremely hot. he loves it when you ride his cock and dominate him, especially tying him up with his blindfold."the thought alone makes me cum, mommy", satoru comments.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to turn his infinity on, when he or his fingers are inside you to stretch your abused pussy better.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to ask you to paint your nails the same shade as the tip of his cock, after watching this trend in social media. with his base being, "#EAD3C9" and the tip, "E3AEAA".

A/N: this was my first headcanon, please don't judge 😭 idk how to do this shit, i am so sorry.

pregnancy smau part 4 will be up on wednesday :)

[imsobadatnicknames2]

After reading a few of the notes I have a surprising amount of Thoughts here so I'm going to make my best attempt at organizing them here instead of arguing with people directly lol.

On the one hand, a lot of people going off about how "this is why we're in the middle of a media literacy crisis" etc. and idk it all sounds to me like "Society is doomed: This one guy said something stupid online". Like you should be extremely skeptical of any narrative that tells you that a handful of people online having extremely bad opinions is evidence (or even THE CAUSE) of any form of widespread societal decay, and it's a very easy trap to fall into if it happens to play into your confirmation bias unfortunately. Also I don't really think we're in a "media literacy crisis". There have always been A LOT of people who engage with media like this, you are just more aware of them now because of social media. There is no media literacy golden age we're falling from grace from.

On the Other hand. A lot of people talking about how there's actually no problem here because you can read however you want and it's okay to skip paragraphs and skim and skip ahead and read out of order, and that thinking otherwise is ableist because a lot of ND people have trouble with big walls of text etc.

And this one comes off to me like something that's like. Technically true on principle but being brought up extremely disingenuously. Like yeah it's your right as a reader to read however you want, but. There's a pretty big difference between "I had to skip this paragraph because the prose wasn't grabbing me/playing nice with my ADHD but I didn't want to stop the book there" and "I skip long/slow paragraphs on principle"

For me it's the same thing as the people who keep bringing up D&D "rule zero". Like yeah it's your right as a player to ignore the rules when you think doing so would benefit the experience, you're not harming anybody, no one has the right to tell you to stop doing it. But if you find yourself constantly doing it, at some point it kinda just exposes a fundamental disconnect between the experience you want from a game and the game you're actually playing, and you should consider if you wouldn't be better served playing a different game or just doing a different activity entirely.

Similarly, as a reader you have the right to read your books however you want. Skip ahead, read out of order, do whatever. It's your time, you decide how to spend it. But if you find yourself constantly skipping paragraphs, or reading just the dialogue, or feeling bored out of your mind when a chapter is more than 30 minutes of reading, that is a pretty clear sign that what you're reading just isn't clicking with you, and you should just drop that book and consider if you wouldn't be better served by reading a different book, or a different author, or a different genre. Or, if it's like that with EVERY book, you should just consider if you wouldn't be better served by reading something different like poetry or screenplays or graphic novels or just doing an entirely different hobby.

Also another thing I find disingenuous about the people saying there's nothing wrong with this and OP is based as hell actually is that like. She calls herself a book critic and her whole shtick is doing book recommendations and shit. Idk if I saw a self-professed music critic who talks about how they've made a habit out of always skipping songs that are over 3 minutes long, or how when it's a slow song they just skip to the chorus I'd say they're probably not doing very good music criticism and they have no business recommending music to anyone.

Do they know that reading is not mandatory? Nobody is forcing them to read?

[sleepy-steve]

steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.5k // inspired by this post ♡

—

november 1983

It wasn’t a bad gig, as far as eternal work in the Underworld went. Eddie didn’t even have to row the boat. He was more of a figurehead. Someone for the souls to follow. Someone to guide them. Seemed like an odd thing to entrust to a dead eighteen year old from the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere USA, but Eddie wasn’t going to argue. Didn’t even know if he could. It had all gone very smoothly. All the souls doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Until Steve appears.

Eddie spots him sitting on the riverbank, knees pulled up. Looking a little too casual, in Eddie’s opinion, but he didn’t know the guy’s life. Some souls were more prepared than others.

“Hey, man, time to uh, get moving,” Eddie says, and cringes at himself. He’d already been spoken to about his boat-side manner. But how were you supposed to talk to people that had just died? Eddie still hadn’t quite worked it out. Was supposed to find his own words, instead of working off a script.

“Hm?” The soul looks up in mild surprise. He looks to be about Eddie’s age, and has a black eye, a split lip, and a nasty cut across his nose. Jesus, wonder what happened to him. It wasn’t polite to ask, Eddie’d been taught.

Eddie gestures vaguely at the boat. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the next part.”

“What happened to the last guy?” The guy tilts his head to the side, hair flopping with the movement.

“What?”

“The last guy who was on the boat?” The soul asks, waving a hand in the general direction of the boat. Even from where he stands, Eddie can see the bruises on the guy’s knuckles. “It used to be an older guy, tallish, beard…?”

“I… I don’t know, man.” Eddie flounders. He’d had some chatty souls before, but none that asked questions he wasn’t trained to answer.

“Hm…” The guy hums thoughtfully, nodding to himself. Shifting slightly, he settles into a more comfortable position.

“So…” Eddie stares at him with wide eyes, brows raised expectantly. “You gonna get on the boat or…?”

“Nah.”

“…What do you mean, nah?” Eddie asks incredulously. Was that even allowed? What would happen if a soul didn’t get on the boat? Would Eddie get in trouble for not collecting him?

“Not getting on the boat.” The guy smiles at him, a little crooked from the scar across his lip. “I won’t be here long, don’t worry.”

“What…?” Eddie trails off, before recognition drops into his mind. It was that smile, it reminded him of… “Steve? Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve confirms, brows pulled together in confusion. “Wait… holy shit… Eddie, right?”

“Yeah!” Eddie leans over the edge of the boat, bringing him as close as he dares. Close enough to see the blues fade into purples in the bruises on his face. The trail of dry blood still under his nose.

“You died, like, not that long ago, right?” Steve asks, not making any moves to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah, house fire.” Eddie waves him off, not wanting to dwell on the memories of his shitty father and those last moments where Eddie tried to save the few good things he had left. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry you’re here though.” Professionalism is out the window in favour of familiarity.

“Ah, it’s okay,” Steve waves him off back. “Like I said, won’t be here long.”

Eddie knows what this is. Denial. He’d seen it many times since starting this job. “Steve…” He keeps his tone soft, just like he was taught. “I know it can be hard to accept, but you’re dead. That’s why you’re here. You have to get on the boat in order to move on.” Steve is giving him a bemused smile, and Eddie feels a twinge of irritation. He’s doing his best. “I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise.”

“That’s… nice, man,” Steve says, slight grin still on his lips. “But I’m not getting on the boat.”

“Steve. You have to get on the boat.” Eddie throws his hands down to gesture at said boat, exasperated.

“No, I don’t.” Steve gives a little shake of his head.

“Get…” Eddie loses steam for a second before gearing up again. “Get on the boat, man.”

Steve just blinks at him. “I don’t need to.”

“Get on the fucking boat, Steve!” Exasperation is in each word now, Eddie losing his patience. If it wasn’t completely against the rules, Eddie would have jumped off the boat and dragged him on by the collar of his stupid sweater. The souls had to choose to move on.

With a glint in his eye and a half smile, like they’re in on some joke together, Steve still doesn’t move. “No.”

“You’re dead, man,” Eddie snaps. Fuck, he’s losing his cool and is gonna get told off for it. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Woah, woah, Eddie.” Steve holds his hands up. Placating. Another ripple of annoyance runs through Eddie. “Okay, just—I know I’m dead. But I don’t stay dead. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

Oh, okay. So Harrington is delusional. Eddie briefly wonders just how hard he’d been hit, looking over Steve’s bruises. Was this what killed him? Eddie holds back a grimace. “Just… get on the fucking boat, man. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. Also, I might get my ass handed to me if you don’t, so like, maybe do it for me?”

Steve laughs good-naturedly. Hopeful that he’s finally gotten through to him, Eddie can’t help but crack a smile at the sound. “So, s’that a yes?” he asks, keeping his tone light.

“Sorry, man,” Steve laughs. “Still a no.” Eddie slumps over the side of the boat dramatically, hair almost dipping into the black water. “But don’t worry. Last guy never got in trouble for not collecting me, so you should be fine.”

Pulling himself back up with an exaggerated sigh, Eddie settles with his forearms on the edge of the boat. “Okay, Harrington. I’m choosing to trust you,” he says, giving Steve a pointed look. “Can I ask…” Steve raises a brow. “What, uh… what happened? To you?” Eddie gestures vaguely at Steve’s overall appearance. The black eye, the cut across his nose, the split lip.

“Oh, this?” Steve points to the bruise. “This isn’t what killed me. Got into it with Byers. Not important, really, anymore…” He trails off before shaking himself. “This, though…” Lowering his knees, dropping his denim-clad legs to the grass, Steve reveals several deep wounds to his chest and stomach.

Eddie lets out a low whistle at them. “Christ, Harrington. You get attacked by a bear or something? We even have bears in Hawkins?”

Steve snorts. “Nah, I don’t know what this thing was. Some kind of alien-monster-creature. Face opened up all…” Steve holds his hands around his face, wiggling his fingers in a fan. “…creepy.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, Eddie isn’t sure if Steve is messing with him, or genuinely believes that a monster killed him and that he’s not going to stay dead. Eddie stays silent, assessing him.

“Anyway,” Steve clears his throat, awkward under Eddie’s stare. “Nancy and Jonathan are probably freaking out right now, I’ll have to explain when I wake up.” He’s rambling, Eddie notices with slight amusement. “Which should be soon, though this might be the longest I���ve spent down here. Last time was quicker for sure.”

“Last time?” Eddie asks, unable to stop his curiosity.

“Yeah, the, uh, car accident,” Steve says. “Got t-boned at an intersection, died on the spot. Woke up with a broken arm, three broken ribs, and this crazy head wound.” He waves a hand around the side of his head. “Got lucky, all things considered.”

“Right…” Eddie vaguely recalls hearing about Harrington’s car wreck from last year. But surely he hadn’t died. It wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.

“You don’t believe me.” Steve grins at him, and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at it.

“Can you blame me?”

Steve considers him for a moment. “No, I guess not.” His head turns sharply, as though he hears something that Eddie doesn’t. “Time’s up.” Steve stands, brushing blades of dry grass off his jeans. He gives Eddie a two-finger wave. “Until next time, Munson.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie leans over the side of the boat again as Steve turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Steve huffs a laugh. “Back.”

“Steve!” Leaning dangerously far over the edge of the boat, Eddie calls after his retreating form. He watches with wide eyes as Steve quite literally fades from view, figure growing more translucent until finally disappearing completely. Unable to pull his gaze away from the empty grass field where Steve stood just a moment ago, Eddie only has one thought in his mind:

What the fuck?

[shybluebirdninja]

For Keeps

Summary      : Old Logan proposes to the love of his life. Note                : fluff

Logan’s POV

It’s late when I finally get in. The house is dim, a warm glow spilling from the kitchen and the faint smell of rosemary and garlic filling the air. I close the door softly, hoping not to disturb her, but she’s already there, peeking her head around the corner with that smile that makes my chest ache.

“Long shift, old man?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, but she’s smirking like she already knows the answer.

I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. “More like a long week. Bunch’a rookies out there can’t drive to save their lives.” I slip off my coat, hanging it on the chair as I try to ease the knots in my shoulders. The box in my pocket feels like it’s burning a hole, waiting to be pulled out.

“C’mon, go sit. I got dinner just about ready,” she says, already turning back to the stove. I catch a glimpse of her, standing there in that old apron she insists on wearing even though it’s stained and frayed at the edges. The sight of her there, in our kitchen, making dinner after my long day, hits me harder than any fight I’ve ever been in.

I settle into my chair, watching her move around, her hands quick and sure as she spoons the pasta onto plates. There’s a glass of wine by my plate, and she’s even got my favorite sauce. The woman thinks of everything, and it makes me feel like a damn fool for waiting this long.

Finally, she sits across from me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking up with that soft smile she saves just for me. We dig in, talking about nothing and everything, and for a few minutes, it’s like the world’s drifted away, and it’s just us. Her laugh, her voice, the warmth in her eyes—it’s all I need.

After a while, I realize I’ve hardly touched my food, just staring at her, trying to get my nerve up. She notices, of course, tilting her head, a little crease forming between her brows.

“Babe? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just… somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to, uh, talk to ya about,” I mutter, reaching into my pocket for the little velvet box. My heart’s pounding like I’m some teenager. Almost makes me laugh, the way she can do that to me.

When I finally pull it out and set it on the table, her hand flies to her mouth, eyes widening. I can barely bring myself to look at her, staring down at my rough, scarred hands instead. “Look, I know it ain’t much. Had to work a few extra shifts, do a few odds and ends—”

She cuts me off with a choked laugh, and I finally meet her gaze. Tears are already pooling in her eyes, and that smile, that damn smile that’s always been my undoing, is breaking through.

“Logan…” she whispers, voice thick with emotion.

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling every one of my years. “Guess what I’m tryin’ to say, darlin’... is, if you’d have me, I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”

She looks down at the ring, then back up at me, and there’s a look in her eyes that makes me feel like I might just be worth something. “Yes,” she says, her voice shaking. “Yes, Logan.”

She reaches across the table, sliding her hand over mine, and I pull her close, pressing my forehead against hers as the weight of it all sinks in.

“You’re really sayin’ yes, huh?” I murmur, my voice catching.

“Yes, you old fool,” she laughs, wiping her eyes. “There’s no one else. Just you.”

My breath stutters, and for a moment, all the doubts and insecurities melt away. I press my lips to hers, softly, slowly, feeling the warmth and truth in that kiss. She’s here, right here with me, and for the first time, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, this old heart’s got one last chance at happiness.

[dollarbils]

focused | j.o.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

context. your girlfriend’s been busy all day. all you’re craving is for her focus to be on you.

warnings. angst, smut, degrading words.

masterlist

she’d been glued to her laptop all day. consumed in this new script she’d received. of course you were excited for her, you’d seen the way her face lit up. but she’d been at it for hours, days.

“jenna, when are you going to give yourself a break, how long is this script?” she wasn’t fully listening, still engrossed by the letters on the white screen.

“hm?” she barely looked over at you, registering thad you’d said something, but nothing more.

“jenna please. i feel like i haven’t seen you in days even though we live together.” she seemed to have had picked up on your tone because this time she turned around, facing you.

“sorry, what did you say?” she asked you to repeat yourself for the second time.

“i miss you, love. it’s been ages since we’ve talked or spent time together.” she furrowed her brows in confusion.

“what do you mean? we see each other all day.” she chuckled, not taking the conversation seriously.

“i’m serious jenna, you’ve been glued to that screen for the past two days, i’ve barely heard your voice. it’s been keeping you up at night too.” instead of self reflecting, she went on the defensive immediately.

“that’s not true. i just really need to get this script looked over. i was told i could comment on anything id like to possibly get changed. do you understand how rare it is for an actor to get that opportunity?” she got up from the desk chair, waving her hands around as she yelled.

“no, of course i do. but that doesn’t mean you can’t at least take a break.” she rolled her eyes.

“i have taken breaks, it’s not my problem you’re so needy all the time.” the insult was misplaced and you felt embarrassed.

“i’m needy? jenna i haven’t had a conversation that’s lasted more than a minute in the last 48 hours. wanting more than that is not needy.” you couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled in, the fact that maybe you were too needy.

“oh my god, you’re so dramatic. just wait for me to finish and then i’m all yours.” her tone was condescending, and you soon found it ridiculous that you were fighting over this.

“it’s not only about me, you need a break too.” she didn’t seem to care.

“just give me five minutes.” you knew five minutes would turn into five hours but it didn’t matter anymore. and once five minutes had passed, you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep, no longer having the energy to fight her.

-

after some time, she came through the door, to find you sleeping. it’s not as if she’d wanted to upset you, but this script was really exciting to her. she hadn’t meant to ignore you.

“baby,” she shook you awake, not wanting to go to sleep without fixing this.

“jenna, i’m not in the mood.” she was slightly taken aback by your cold words.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart.” she sat upright on the bed, caressing your arm gently, coaxing you into forgiveness.

“please.” she repeated, and even without elaboration it was clear what she was asking for.

“okay.” you folded as the soft words left your lips. you pushed the covers back and let her take you in her arms. she kissed your forehead earning a sigh, as you relaxed in her warm embrace.

“what can i do to make it better?” she asked with genuine concern, however your response was a mischievous grin. she raised her eyebrows as she questioned the look you were giving her.

“i could use some head.” she laughed at your reply and kissing your smiling lips.

“i can arrange that.” she whispered in your ear, her hands burning the skin at your waist.

“my poor angel’s touch starved. tell me what you need, baby.” her voice was sick with power. she loved having you so desperately begging for her. although she did feel bad.

“fuck, jenna. i just need you to t-touch me.” her smile widened and she fumbled with your shorts, not planning on wasting any time with you.

“mm, can’t get off on your own huh? need my help.” she urged you to reply and when you didn’t she pulled your chin in order to face her.

“y-yeah, need you to help m-me.” her fingertips were brushing against your clothed clit, causing your words to break up in a stutter. she enjoyed how desperate you sounded beneath her touch, her words rendering you more and more flustered.

“so pathetic aren’t you.” her words were harsh because she knew it turned you on. you were nodding without realising what you were agreeing to, too focused on the filthy words leaving her mouth to ponder on their meaning. she chuckled into your neck, her warm tongue soothing the bruises she’d created.

“jen-jenna, please.” her hands pulled down your panties before she began to play with your wetness, spreading it around and earning choked whines from your throat.

“hm, who are you so wet for baby?” she teased but you didn’t have the strength to reply as she lowered her head between your thighs. her tongue laid flat against your clit, tasting your arousal while her fingers toyed with your entrance.

“f-fuck.” instinctively, your thighs shut around her head, making her hiss.

“open wide for me.” she instructed, looking up to see you fisting the sheets with your head thrown back. however when you had relaxed, you’d managed to comply with her request.

“that’s it.” she affirmed, her mouth latching onto your heat once again. you were soon returned to your previous state, your mouth an exit for all sorts of pornographic noises. you physically couldn’t keep quiet. and when you began grinding against her tongue, she groaned into you, the pleasure of devouring you finally expressed.

“oh my god, jenna please- please keep going.” she smirked into your pussy, flicking her tongue over your clit, and darting it in and out of your entrance. it felt so good. she was too good.

“fuck, jenna. so close, can i-i.” your eyes were shut as the pleasure built up, so close to your release.

“mhm.” she nodded, her face still buried in your arousal, bringing you to the edge and helping you ride it out once that chord has snapped. you felt yourself grow warm as the pleasure consumed you, clenching around her tongue. she came up to kiss you, her tongue sure to penetrate your lips so that you could taste yourself.

“am i forgiven?” she smiled and you couldn’t help shoving her playfully at the look she was giving you.

“yeah, i’d say so.”

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 9 - Next

You banged on the door of the room where that man was locked up, waking him up abruptly.

"Let's talk"

Jimmy: "I thought visiting hours were over."

He complained, turning around to turn his back to the door.

"Don't try to be funny with me, Jimmy. What the hell did we do to deserve so much hate from you?"

Jimmy: "Don't play innocent, you know very well what you did!"

"Honestly, I have no idea! That's why I'm asking you!"

Jimmy: "Of course, because I was always the shadow of your dear husband. You never turned to look at me again after you got with him, you never smiled at me like you did with him, you didn't even speak to me. It was as if I were invisible to you!"

"Oh, of course I was looking at you!"

Jimmy: "Then why didn't you ever tell me anything?!"

He shouted that, getting up from his bed to head towards the glass that separated them, watching your face to see you when you replied.

"BECAUSE I'VE ALWAYS HATED YOU!"

You screamed with all your lungs, to the point of making your throat hurt.

"You always brought trouble to Curly! He was always so naive, a sucker for approval, of being the good guy in the story, of not letting anyone down! That's why he never abandoned you! I knew better that's why i stopped talking with you! Because you were and are a piece of shit!" 

Jimmy: "Oh, but you talk as if I were the only fucked up one in the story."

"Yes! I admit it! I was also a mess when I met Curly, but I did something, I was able to see beyond that mess I was, he showed me that I could improve, he gave me opportunities that I knew how to take advantage of and become a better person! In someone who could make his mother proud instead of making her cry because she didn't know if he was coming home or not!"

There was a silence when you finished saying that, until you saw him smirk, that reaction you didn't like at all.

Jimmy: "You're right, Curly loves to please, you should know that very well."

"Ugh, for the love of God, I don't know why I try to reason with you, it's impossible."

Jimmy: "But you were the only one who refused to give in to make me happy."

You opened your eyes wide upon hearing that, turning again to the man who still wore that smug smile.

Jimmy: "Just as beautiful and messed up as I am, I thought you would understand me, but then you became a good girl, yet I still hoped you would look at me..."

"Shut up-"

Jimmy: "Oh, and the damn way Curly talked about you, how incredible you are, so kind, hardworking, so beautiful."

"I tell you to shut up-"

Jimmy: "Those lovely moles in the center of your chest that look like a constellation"

"He wouldn't talk about those things with you!"

Jimmy: "I saw it myself"

You felt like you were going to puke at that moment, you didn't want to believe that he had really done something like that to you while you were unconscious, you didn't want your suspicions to be confirmed, you refused to believe it.

"Liar. Anya wouldn't leave me alone, she would lock the nursery door-" 

Jimmy: "Yes, yes, she did that, it was a pain in the ass. Every night when she went to sleep, she locked the nursery with that code that only Curly and she knew... But that place wasn't closed while someone was inside."

"She wouldn't let you get close to me!"

Jimmy: "They were so sweet, Anya staying by your side saying she had to make sure all your signs were okay, and when she left, she would ask Swansea if he could keep an eye on you. But he was so depressed that he didn't dare to stay with you for long, so... I took his place to make sure you were okay."

"In front of Curly..."

You murmured at having to imagine the scene your husband had to witness without being able to do anything about it other than watch.

Jimmy: "That was the funniest thing"

You hugged tightly, feeling a horrible tingling all over your body, as if you were dirty.

Jimmy: "Swansea had no idea about anything, Anya didn't want to talk about it with anyone else. Thanks to her silence, I was able to finally look at that body that you always hide from me, thanks to Swansea's stupidity and feeling sad for his little captain, feeling all guilty and shit."

Swansea: "What did he just say..." 

You turned to see Swansea at the end of the hallway, carrying Jimmy's rations, holding an axe firmly in the other hand; he had managed to hear everything.

"Swansea-"

Swansea: "Open the door, captain"

"Listen - it's not worth it, do you have any idea what they'll do to you if they find out you hurt someone from the crew? Please, I don't want them to lock you up." 

You said immediately, positioning yourself in front of him, trying to get him to see you, but his eyes were glued to the door where he could see Jimmy's face.

Swansea: "How are they going to know? Let's say it was an accident. Open the door!"

You wanted to keep reasoning with him, but you couldn't deny that you also wished he would face consequences for his actions.

You took the axe from his hands, making him look at you annoyed.

"I won't take the risk of you killing him."

Those were your last words before opening the door, Swansea didn't take much more than a few seconds to fully open the door, step inside, and throw himself at Jimmy.

You could hear the sound of the blows, the insults, and the screams.

You stood at the door wide open, axe in hand, watching as the blood spread across the floor with each blow Swansea dealt.

You watched Jimmy and tilted your head, waiting for him to defend himself.

You wouldn't hesitate to cut off his hands if he touched Swansea.

[cakesexuality]

I take stuffed animals in public sometimes and find that people almost always either pretend they're not there or are excited to see them!!

On Thursday night, I took my newest stuffed animal, a cat named Blinx, out with me when I went trick-or-treating at the mall in my cat onesie. He only got comments when people at the stores thought he was cute!! Blinx also came with me to a medical procedure a couple weeks ago where a nurse told me that everyone in the hallway on the way to the procedure room were talking about how cute Blinx is. That nurse and the doctor both asked his name, which is always a green flag.

Last year, I had surgery and brought along my turkey, Ulana, who I got specifically for bringing to the hospital that day. When I asked a nurse what to do with Ulana, I was expecting to hear either "Oh you can leave her in your room" or more specifically "You should put her in your bag" but instead I got "Do you want me to ask if you can bring her to the OR?" so I got to bring her all the way to the OR and she got compliments from a couple nurses. When I woke up in the recovery room, Ulana was wearing my mask with the ear loops around her wings.

I went to a con a couple months ago and brought my bear, Ellie, with me. I paid for photo ops with a couple special guests, and Rock M Sakura from RuPaul's Drag Race asked my bear's name then said "It's nice to meet you, Ellie!"

A couple years ago, I had to go see an ophthalmologist, and I was getting upset during the pre-tests with the ophthalmic assistant (NOT from anything she did or said) so I got out my stuffed animal I had brought that day, Brock. The ophthalmologist came in and started asking me questions like what Brock is called and how he came to be called that, so I told him Brock came with that name and a short bio stating he plays football and wants to be a nurse when he grows up. On my way out, the doctor said "I'm glad you and Brock came in today!"

This past summer, I went to see a pride parade and brought my bunny, Vibri!! I don't think she got any comments or acknowledgement. I held her the entire time I was there and brought along one of my tiny rainbow flags but I almost brought the tiny bi flag I have for her, since Vibri is a bisexual icon.

I did once get asked to put a stuffed animal away, a small bulldog named Butch, but that was because I was having an echocardiogram and the tech was afraid of getting ultrasound gel on him, and I got to keep Butch in my hand because I said I was okay with getting gel on him since he was old and had been through a lot already

No picture for Butch

If people stare at me for my stuffed animals, I don't notice. I only ever pay attention to when they say positive things about my stuffed animals.

I’m not the first to say this but I really wish it were normalised for adults to carry around comfort objects like stuffed animals

[solxamber]

Romance Clichés With: Idia Shroud

Cliché: The Dramatic Save

Others: Leona ; Vil ; Azul ; Kalim

The thing about Idia is that he’s very used to lurking in the background. Life is much simpler that way. But ever since you’d started spending more time with him, he’d found himself in the wildest, most "otome game" situations imaginable. And today? Today topped them all.

You’d been standing together in the courtyard, him telling you about his latest game finds, hands shoved into his pockets as he tried not to fidget too much. It was rare he got to hang out with someone he, uh, actually wanted to hang out with, so his nerves were pinging off the charts.

That’s when it happened.

With zero warning, a large, heavy textbook teetered off the edge of a windowsill above and began its rapid descent towards Idia’s head. He didn’t notice; he was too busy stammering about his latest high score. But you did.

In one swift move, you threw yourself across the space between you and practically flew through the air, hands outstretched like some overdramatic action hero.

You managed to get between him and the descending missile (okay, just a textbook, but in the moment, it was deadly), and though the impact wasn’t as dramatic as you’d pictured, you still managed to shield him with your entire being, shoving him safely aside.

By the time he realized what was going on, you were already fussing over him. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?! Did it hit you anywhere?”

He blinked, processing what just happened as you started checking his head for bumps, squinting at his shocked face. “Uh… w-what?” he stammered, brain catching up about three seconds too late. “Did… did you just… jump in front of me?” The look of awe on his face was equal parts adorable and ridiculous.

“Well, obviously!” You laughed, still fussing, hands on his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Idia’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to process the sheer amount of romance that just smacked him in the face. You, his crush, his dream come to life, had gone full protagonist, for him. It was like the best tropes had all collided in his brain at once, and it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“N-No one’s ever done something like that… f-for me…” he mumbled, cheeks reddening as he stared at you with this helpless, smitten look.

You tilted your head, a soft smile crossing your face. “Well, I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe, Idia.”

Somewhere in his brain, the confetti cannons were going off. The “love meter” hit max. The screen flashed “TRUE ENDING” in bold, sparkly letters. He knew it was all real, but a tiny part of him felt like he’d accidentally triggered some hidden route with a secret character, and that character was you.

And before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. “I think I’m in love with you. Like, maybe have been for a while. You’re like, the one or something, and—oh my god, why am I saying this out loud—”

He clamped a hand over his mouth, wide-eyed, as if he could just take it back if he tried hard enough. But instead, he saw you looking at him, your smile widening as you took his hand, gently pulling it down.

“You mean it?” you asked, a bit of awe creeping into your voice.

He couldn’t look at you, his eyes darting everywhere except your face as he mumbled, “Y-Yeah, I mean, yeah, I do. I can’t believe you’re real, honestly, this feels like a fever dream, but—”

Before he could talk himself out of it, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, quick and sweet. It was enough to short-circuit his brain, and when you pulled back, he just blinked, stunned, frozen like his internal processing unit had just maxed out.

“Does that answer your question?” you teased, unable to hold back a little laugh at his flustered expression.

“Uh-huh,” he finally managed, a dopey smile creeping onto his face as his brain rebooted. “Y-Yeah… yes.” He cleared his throat, trying to seem cooler, but the blush on his cheeks was a dead giveaway.

And as you both stood there, your hands still linked, he felt like the luckiest player in the world—like he’d stumbled upon the rarest, sweetest route of them all, and he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Masterlist

[lostingrayrain]

hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗

I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....

I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Word Count: 1454

Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence

Mr. Crawling

He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!

Do you love him?

He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.

He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.

He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.

Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.

He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.

If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.

He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.

Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair

You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.

But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.

Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?

Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.

He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.

He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.

He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.

He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.

He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.

Mr. Gap

He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.

You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.

When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.

He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.

He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.

He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.

But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.

He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.

Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.

Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.

Mr. Hood

He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.

You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.

No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.

He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.

Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.

He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.

Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.

He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.

But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.

He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.

Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.

But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.

Mr. Machete

He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.

Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.

It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?

He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.

But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.

Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.

He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?

He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.

He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.

Mr. Scarletella

You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.

You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.

You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.

He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.

He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.

Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.

Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.

[yushiteru]

baby, i'm yours

description: yushi x reader (when you dodge his kisses as a prank, fluff)

maybe you've been watching too many tiktoks. your fyp wasn't really curated for couples' accounts and prank videos, but maybe this particular trend was just so popular that it seemed to have permeated onto all sides of the platform. less interested in the prank itself and more curious about yushi's unpredictable reaction to something like this, you put your plan in motion.

usually, whenever yushi stepped through the door into your apartment, you would be ready to welcome him with a warm embrace and a kiss, or if you were preoccupied with something, you'd call out to him, letting him know where to find you.

today, you were in the kitchen, washing up a few dishes from your lunch and feeling nervously giddy at what you were planning to do. "i'm in here!" you yell out trying to keep a straight face. you hear him shuffle around, kicking his shoes off, hanging his jacket up on the coat rack and singing softly under his breath as he followed the trail of your voice.

once he walks into the kitchen, he makes a beeline towards the fridge and pulls out a plastic container of food, the leftovers from when you guys ordered takeout last night.

"hey, what'd you do today?" he greets you through a mouthful of noodles he hadn't even bothered to heat up.

"hi honey, nothing much. i met up with someone from work in the morning and then did some deep cleaning in the afternoon. you should heat that up, or i can make you something real quick?" drying your hands on the dish rag, you reach for the fridge as if to start pulling out ingredients for whatever recipe you had in mind.

"no, no, that's okay. this is enough, thank you though," making his exit from the kitchen, he steps forward to plant a soft kiss on your lips. you knew what he was about to do as soon as he placed his palm on the side of your face, and you looked away at the last second, offering him your cheek instead.

yushi falters, his feet slowing down in their pace. his face is blank except for the slightly confused look in his eyes. he doesn't say anything, though, just shoots you a concerned, but well masked smile as he heads silently to the dining table.

this was already getting too difficult for you, but you reminded yourself to follow through. joining him at the table, you settle into your chair, opening your laptop to finish some work. yushi tells you about the funny things the members did during practice today, and you laugh at his stories, picturing sakuya all too well in his usual mischief. in return, you tell yushi about the new management you were working with for the new project you were assigned to, and how frustrating they could get, but that you were still determined to do well in your role. yushi sits quietly as he takes in everything you say, eyebrows furrowing when he empathizes with your complaints and smiling when you speak passionately about your work.

"should i beat them up for you?" he jokes as he pulls your chair closer to him, thighs pressing against each other. "hah, i wish, but i'd probably get blacklisted from the entire industry," you quip, resting a hand against his chest.

"even so, that would be their loss, you're too good for them," he says in response, taking a moment to look into your eyes before his own dart down to your lips. you muster the strength to look away again when he leans down. this time the kiss lands on the corner of your lips.

his reaction is evident this time, confusion clearly all over his face, and maybe even a little hurt if you looked closely enough. "what is it, do i smell or something? i can go shower," he says, half joking, but half sincere.

"what are you talking about, no you're fine. you can shower if you want though." you hope you're playing it off casually, but inside, you're almost at your wits end, not usually one to turn down his affections. turning back towards your laptop, you pretend to be busy going through an email.

"then give me a kiss," yushi says almost nonchalantly, as if he wasn't going through a million possible scenarios in his head of what could be wrong.

"... mmmh?" you act as if you were too engrossed in the words on your screen to hear him.

"y/n. is something wrong?" you can see his features soften in your peripheral, the concern in his voice resonating between you two. you think you can hold out for a little longer, but when you see him staring down at the ground in thought, your resolve breaks.

shifting in your seat to face him, you duck to plant a soft peck on his jaw. "it was a prank," you whisper apologetically, looking up at him through your lashes. "i saw it on tiktok," leaning forward to kiss him again, this time on the lips. the act is cut short though, by yushi who takes hold of your shoulders.

"..eh? what prank?" his face is no longer one of confusion and hurt, but pure incomprehension.

"people on tiktok were pranking their partners by dodging their kisses. i thought it was funny," you explain, trying to sneak a quick peck in again, but yushi leans back before you can make contact. now, you're the one feeling slightly annoyed, even though you were the one who started the prank.

"i see. well then, i'm gonna go take a shower. no kisses from me today," he reprimands as he gets up to make his way to the bathroom, though the amusement on his face is unmistakable.

"what?! wait - no, i didn't mean it! i want a kiss!" you jump to your feet, blocking him in his path. "i won't do it again," you promise. getting onto your tiptoes, you pucker your lips exaggeratedly and close your eyes waiting for him to give you what you want. it doesn't come though, and when you peek one eye open again, you see yushi smirking down at you, his lips an inch away from yours.

"i don't know if you deserve-" you don't let him finish, reaching up to grab a fistful of his shirt and pulling him down to you. when your lips finally meet, you can feel him smile through the kiss and you can't help but grin in return, not realizing how much you missed this in its absence.

[sass-ruby]

Okay so um, I'm gonna be talking about these two episodes today! (Prepare BECAUSE OH MY GOSH.)

Alright, we'll start with the first one. Can I just say that, moon absolutely angered me so much. Moon, NO ONE IS ASKING YOU FOR AN EMOTIONAL SPEECH NOR ANYTHING. It's the fact that you COMPLETELY ignored sun, didn't even bother to check up on him, and then went to work in your lab to find a solution?? Looks like history is repeating itself. But.. why? Why is the same thing repeating again? WELL I HAVE A THEORY! Sun's gonna die, someway, somehow and that's gonna be the only way moon realizes. I think this because of solar specifically. When solar heard that moon won't check up on sun, he sounded absolutely disgusted. Keep in mind, solar lived in HIS SUN'S head. That sun ALSO had a moon, and I bet solar has watched the same exact thing happen. And what happened when solar's sun died? Solar's moon went insane! Imagine the guilt moon would feel, gut wrenching. He probably ALREADY feels guilty, but would rather let it consume him whole than to comfort sun or AT THE VERY LEAST HUG HIM

Sun was there with moon during moon's (valid) breakdown, but moon being there for sun? NOOO, OF COURSE NOT!

Also if moon's gonna start with the "I'm not good with emotions" stuff, I'll lose it. YOU HAVE PROVEN IN OTHER VIDEOS THAT YOU CAN, MOON. Neptor's funeral, OR HELL WHEN THE WHOLE FINDING OUT DAZZLE'S SECRET THING HAPPENED. He listened about every kid, comforted, reassured, he was there. Although, now he's just ignoring sun. I think it's because he's a coward. And by a coward, I mean that he's too scared he'll say something wrong or make it worse, because the word is about NEXUS, someone who moon HATES, though sun loves nexus, evil or not, he was still his brother.

Moon doesn't understand that, he's jealous most likely. It reminds me so much of when nexus wasn't insane.. he was bad talking moon, and when moon returned? Moon was bad talking nexus. Both didn't want to be like each other, they DESPISE each other, calling each other knock off's (okay, THAT PART WAS KINDA FUNNY I'M SORRY.)

But.. where is sun in all of this? He missed each one. He loved each one. He loved them. He still loves them.

But they BOTH didn't understand how their words hurt sun. They're so similar in some ways, it's absurd. AND THEY DON'T EVEN REALIZE IT. Reminds me of the song "over and over" by Rio Romeo.

If sun dying is the only way for moon to realize, I'll be willing to accept it even if it is quite sad. It's disappointing, truly.

Monty's and lunar's reaction, I expected honestly. By the way, lunar-, "he's doing worse than I thought he would be.." ARE YOU STUPID, HE JUST KILLED HIS EX BROTHER?? Didn't you go through the same damn thing too? As for monty, not even surprised one bit. He's always been like that, I never really liked him, but oh well.

And THANK YOU SOLAR FOR BEING THE ONLY SANE PERSON EXCEPT MAYBE EARTH BECAUSE GOSH THIS SHOW AIN'T FOCUSING ON SUN'S HEALTH MUCH.

The urge to b*tch slap almost everyone.

I genuinely want sun to have a breakdown, he chose moon, but moon didn't bother to even check up on him.

Gosh.

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

ANYWAYS, TODAY'S EPISODE!

Just gonna add this picture again, because why not

Wow- genuinely just wow- that was-.. wow

So dark sun DID end up doing something. I must've missed something in the past video, but interesting..

I heard a person say, I forgot who it was but that SUN was the key of this whole plan

He killed nexus, he pulled the trigger and made a choice which means.. that way other suns also made choices instead of not acting

I have NO idea how sun managed to make that happen, BUT THE THEORY MAKES SENSE

In a way, I was right- he IS trying to stop the dimensional abuse of suns by them killing their own moon, I SUCK AT EXPLAINING

if anyone can explain this theory better than me, PLEASE DO.

I felt so bad for the sun in this dimension. Poor thing. Sounded scared and terrified, while repeating "I hate you", while crying and also while bashing HIS moon's head with a barrel

I wanted to hug him QwQ poor baby.. we need a name for him

ALSO HE'S MY CHILD NOW. I'M ADOPTING HIM.

Moon tried his best to keep that sun at peace, WHICH BRINGS ME BACK TO THE SAME TOPIC, WHY DOES HE HELP EVERYONE EXCEPT HIS SUN

I get it was a different situation BUT CMON.

I suppose I already ranted enough about that part, though

I would add more but I'm INCREDIBLY tired and all.. so um yeah-

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

"We're gonna get out of here, I promise"

pairing : mike munroe x (fem) reader

cw : mike has a gun, talk of death, and blood, and maybe like one swear I don't know. reader is referred to as mike’s girlfriend, but other than that i don’t believe any female pronouns are used.

a/n : i know this is kind of late since the until dawn remake has been out for a while but i kept procrastinating this after I started it. anyways #needthat.

The wind pulls at you from every angle, hair clinging to your sweaty, frostbitten cheeks. Adrenaline kept your body moving through the never-ending maze of trees and snow; you didn’t think it would last much longer. You were sure if you continued in this direction, eventually, you would reach the sanatorium. 

It was marked on the map in the cable car station, the same map you had seen before you made your way up to the lodge with Sam and Chris. That was hours ago, and you wish you could go back and warn yourself to go back down the mountain. Or even better, ignore Josh’s email altogether and stay home. Play sick. You’d say anything not to be where you are, right now. 

But that’s not possible, is it? 

Your clothes are sticky with blood. Not your own, you think. You hope. This night was not turning out the way you had expected it to. And the choices you had made leading up to this point were beginning to make your stomach turn the longer you thought about them. 

Why did you leave the lodge? You could’ve stayed on the kitchen floor after that psycho knocked you out; you could’ve pretended not to hear Chris’s attempts to wake you up. You could’ve looked for a phone instead of rushing into the snow to find Ashley. Speaking of them, why had you left Chris and Ashley? You could’ve returned to the lodge with them to find Sam after witnessing your friend be sawed in half, but no. You needed to know that Mike was okay considering you hadn’t seen him since you both arrived. 

Why did you start that argument with Mike before the two of you had left for the lodge? 

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“You're getting jealous over nothing. We’ve talked about this, there is nothing between me and Em. I’m with you. I’m in love with you. Why does this keep being brought up?”

“Maybe because she texts your phone like you're still close? ‘Text when you and the new gf get here, can’t wait to see you, winky face’,” you push his phone towards him. “She knows who I am, why does she feel the need to refer to me as the ‘new girlfriend’ as if we’ve never met? And why is she sending you winky faces? Why exactly is Em so excited to see you, Mike?” You make a point of emphasizing her nickname which seems to flow off his tongue so easily. 

“You’re looking into this way too much. This is crazy, I mean come on, that’s how she texts everyone, baby.” He gently takes his phone from you, throwing it onto the bed and reaching back for your hand which hovers in the air. You let him, but you make no effort to hold his hand back, fingers only resting in his hold. A soft sigh leaves your lips. 

“Yeah well, I’m not loving that she texts you that way and I’m also not loving the fact that you’ve said nothing to her about how weird it is. You have no problem defending her when you talk to me, so why can’t you say something to her about how I feel?”

“If I said something it would just cause a fight between me and her, or you and her, and the last thing that anyone needs up there, especially Josh, is for all of us to be fighting. Can you pretend to like her, only for the weekend, and then you never have to again.”

“You say that every time she’s involved, ‘just pretend to like her for tonight, and then you never have to ever again.’ But I will, because for some reason she is always around. I figured when Matt and she started dating we would see her less but I guess I was wrong.”

“Please, let’s just go and get it over with. We’re doing this for Josh, remember?”

“I don’t know, Michael, something about spending an entire weekend with your ex-girlfriend isn’t really appealing to me anymore. Call me crazy.” His eyebrows soften as you use his full name, especially in that tone. He is enjoying this conversation less than you are. 

“Don’t be this way, we’re already packed and ready to go. Just come downstairs and get in the truck. She won’t bother us, baby, I promise. Come on..” He attempts to pull you, gently bringing your hand closer to him. But your fingers slip from his hand, dropping to your side. From the bed, his phone buzzes, the screen lights up, and you don’t have to look to know who’s messaging him. 

“Sam told me she's taking the bus up there, I think,” you look back to him, “I’ll just head up with her so she doesn't have to go alone.”

“But then I have to go alone. And the bus leaves in like an hour, that's barely enough time to get ready and get to the stop. You're being ridiculous, just come with me. And if you want to, we can talk about this on the way up.” 

 You look away from him, missing the way his face falls as you turn your back to him. “I’ll see you up there, Mike.”

If you had just let it go, believed him, and gone with him instead of taking the bus with Sam, you would’ve never been angry with each other at the lodge. Or rather, you wouldn’t have been so furious with him because you would’ve talked things out in the truck, kissed, and made up instead of stewing in your thoughts on the bus. You wouldn’t be worrying about whether or not he was alive right now. But you were stubborn and foolish, and now you are trudging through the snow, improperly dressed, and praying the person you love is still breathing on this stupid mountain. 

You cross your arms over your chest, preserving what little warmth you have left, and with every step you lose another piece of hope. All you can think of is him. And how, if he is dead, he would’ve died thinking that you were mad at him. You weren’t even angry, annoyed for sure but not angry, you were just being stubborn and taking your frustration out on him. Now you might never get to apologize. The thought makes your stomach churn and your steps falter as a wave of nausea overtakes you. 

But, finally, in the distance you see the outline of a large building surrounded by a brick fence that appears to be falling apart. You allow yourself to be comforted, just for a moment, by the sanatorium's existence. The nausea in your stomach ceases as your steps quicken, arms uncrossing to move through the air. You reach the gate, blocked by the large pile of snow blocking both sides, not that you think you could’ve pushed it open in your current state; blocked from snow or not. 

You let your hand trace across the gate's bars as you walk towards the side of the fence. The pads of your fingers sting from the cold metal but you keep them where they are. As you move, they follow, moving from metal to brick. The only way into the sanatorium courtyard, you realize, is to climb over the stone fencing. 

A tired sigh leaves your body. You place your hands on the wall, palms stinging from the snow-covered surface. You lift your body, throwing your leg over simultaneously, climbing on top to straddle the snowy stone. The action uses more energy than you realistically have left so instead of gracefully landing on the other side of the wall you fall, directly onto your back. At least the pile of snow beneath you cushions your fall a tiny bit, but it still takes you a few minutes to recover your breath. 

Using the wall, you find your footing again. The snow falls from your clothes as you stumble towards the sanatorium. You don’t even know what you were expecting to discover here. You figured there might be people here. Maybe a construction crew, getting ready to tear the old building down. A custodian, forced to stay and take care of an abandoned building. Or on the slimmer side of chance, a large group of stable nurses and doctors that would offer you and your friends shelter and much-needed medical attention. However, the closer you get, the more you realize how fucked you are. Nobody is out here. And it was stupid to believe there would be. 

But you’ve come this far, and the chill that runs through your body borders on hypothermic potential. You reach the front doors, using your body to push the door open, shoulder first. It opens far easier than expected, and you fall to your hands and knees as it flies inwards. “Fuck.. me.” 

You don’t move from the floor, the opposite actually, you get closer to it, falling onto your back. You don’t even want to get up. No one is here. All your friends are probably dead back down by the lodge. What’s the point? At least this way you’ll have time to think over every choice that led you here, it’ll take a while for the cold to kill you since your feet are the only part of you still lying outside the building. From farther within the entry hall you hear a door open, the sound of steps echoing through the empty building. And though your heart rate picks up speed, you don’t move. Instead, you pray that whatever it is, will kill you quickly so you can be with your friends again. So you can be with Mike. 

“Who’s there? Whoever it is, just know I am armed and I am not afraid to shoot you. I have had one hell of a night and I am so not in the mood for.. whatever it is that you want.” Even with your heartbeat drumming against your ear canals, you still pick up the voice. A man's voice. Almost recognizable. You let your eyes close, murmuring the only thing you can think of like a mantra. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike. 

“Holy shit. Y/n?” Mike? You turn your neck enough to see the man approaching. A sudden second surge of energy fills you, and you lift yourself into a sitting position to fully face the figure walking towards you. 

“M..mike?” 

“Holy- Oh my god, how are you- Are you okay?” He falls to his knees in front of you, dropping the gun and the lantern in his hands on the floor. His hands hover around you, scared to touch you. You notice that two of the fingers on his left hand are missing, replaced by a bandage soaked in blood.  Your hands are the first to make contact, landing on both sides of his dirty face.

“Are you real?” He nods, pulling you into a too-tight embrace. A stark contrast to his previous concern and reluctance to touch you. 

“Yes. Yes, I’m real. I’m so glad to see you. You’re alive.. holy shit I can’t believe you’re alive.”

“You look terrible” You wipe away some dirt from his face. Eyes wide as you try to convince yourself that he is actually in front of you. You had convinced yourself that he was dead, and now to see him in front of you alive and well - okay maybe not well but he’s not dead - it has your brain moving a mile a minute. There is so much you have to say. So much you have to explain to him. How do you explain to someone that his friend was sawed in half on the anniversary of his sister's death? Or how do you explain that the rest of his friends might ALSO be dead? And without sounding insane, how do you explain that you truly believe something is up on the mountain with you and that it might’ve followed you the entire way to the sanatorium? You can’t.  

“Well, I’m happy to see you too, baby.” He laughs breathily, unsteady. A laugh of disbelief. His way of coping has always been humor, even at the most inappropriate of times. Your features are probably the exact opposite of his uncertain smile. You pull him close again, practically pushing him to the ground, but his arms wrap around you and he straightens his back to keep the two of you upright. “Woah, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

You push your face into his shoulder, saturating the filthy, green jacket that he wears with tears. It stinks like cigar smoke, years of sweat buildup, and dirt. 

“Mike- Oh Mike,” your voice is muffled in his skin, pausing in between sobs to catch your breath. His arm wraps tighter around your waist, the other arm reaching up so his hand can rest in your tangled hair. “I’m so- I am so so sorry Micheal. I thought you were dead, I thought- I thought you died thinking I was angry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. I’m just- I’m so glad you’re alive.” He kisses your temple, and as you raise your red face to look him in the eyes, he moves your hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Can you walk? God, you must be freezing. Did you come all the way from the lodge like this? Fuck, y/n, how are you even alive.” You shake your head, a silent confirmation that you don’t know how you’re alive either. 

He helps you to your feet, taking off the unfamiliar jacket and helping you into it. He then retrieves the lantern and the gun from the floor, “Here, can you hold this up?” You nod, and take the lantern from his hand. In the hand opposite of you, he holds the gun, and with the other, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “We're gonna get out of here. I am going to get you out of here, I promise.” He’s so certain, and your fear almost dissipates completely as he leads you farther into the sanatorium with a tight grip on your hand.

[nightwriter357]

The most important part of a relationship

This short one shot is inspired by a message I received about the challenges of navigating intimacy and feeling safe with your partner. I hope this piece brings comfort to those who need it. Please note there are mentions of intimacy-related anxiety and brief references to past pressures around physical intimacy.

When you're not in the mood for intimacy, insecurities from the past begin to surface. But Damien, ever patient and kind, reminds you that love is about more than physical closeness—it's about feeling truly seen and valued, just as you are. Obviously no smut in this one.

The night was peaceful, the kind of evening where everything felt unhurried. You and Damien had spent hours together at his place, talking and laughing softly as the world outside grew quieter. There was a comfortable closeness between you, a feeling that being next to him was exactly where you wanted to be.

As you settled back on the couch, Damien's hand brushed along your arm, his gaze soft and warm, a familiar spark in his eyes. The subtle shift in his touch told you where his thoughts were drifting, and normally, you'd be right there with him. But tonight, something in you pulled back, the idea of intimacy feeling heavy instead of inviting.

You hesitated, feeling a knot form in your stomach. This wasn't the first time Damien had initiated something, but tonight, that old anxiety crept in, and you weren't sure how to tell him. After a pause, you took a shaky breath.

"I... I'm sorry," you said, your voice a bit quieter than you intended. "I don't think I'm up for that... right now."

Damien's hand paused immediately, his expression softening. "Okay," he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world, his tone gentle and understanding.

But despite his easy acceptance, a knot of worry began to twist in your chest. The old, familiar dread rose up, reminding you of things you'd been told—that sex was vital to any relationship, that a lack of it would only lead to distance. And for a moment, the fear that you'd somehow disappointed him clawed its way to the surface.

"I... I should probably leave," you murmured, the words spilling out in a rush.

His brow furrowed as he leaned back slightly, searching your face. "Why? Or... I mean, if you want to leave, then of course, but... do you want to?"

"No," you said, barely able to meet his eyes. "But... you know. I understand if you feel like it's kind of... unnecessary for me to stay."

Damien's gaze softened even more as he took your hand in his, his fingers lacing gently with yours. "I'm so sorry if I made you feel that way. I care about you so much, and I don't want you to feel like I'm just with you because we have sex."

Your throat tightened, that old fear making it hard to answer. "I know that, but still... it's important. And guys... have needs," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sure, but that's not a need." His voice was steady, his thumb tracing a calming circle along your knuckles. "And besides, women have needs too, right? It's not all just... sexual."

You glanced up at him, the worry still heavy in your chest. "So... you'd be okay sleeping next to me all night without us... you know."

He smiled softly, his expression nothing but tender. "Thrilled," he replied, his voice full of quiet warmth. "Honestly. If that's what you want, that's more than enough for me."

There was a pause as he seemed to consider something, then he asked softly, "Do you feel like... maybe you have to said 'yes' sometimes, even when you don't want to?"

The question struck a chord, and you felt your cheeks flush as you nodded. "I don't know... maybe? It’s just that... in the past, whenever I didn’t feel up for it, it felt like it always caused tension, like I was letting them down." You hesitated, glancing away. "I just keep worrying that if we don’t… maybe you’ll get frustrated. Or that it’ll drive us apart if we don’t do it enough."

He frowned slightly, a look of concern filling his eyes as he took in your words. "You should never feel like you have to do something just to keep me around."

You speak up, almost without meaning to. "I guess… I’ve always believed that sex is supposed to be the most important part of a relationship," you say quietly, your insecurities slipping through.

Damien lets out a soft sigh, pulling you even closer. "For me, the most important part of this relation— is you," he murmurs, his voice full of warmth. "Everything else is just extra. You’re what matters most to me, nothing else even comes close."

The knot in your chest began to loosen as you listened, and you dared to ask, "So... you're not disappointed?"

He shook his head, smiling. "Not in the slightest. There are so many reasons I want to be with you, and intimacy is just a tiny part of that." He paused, as if making sure you understood. "The truth is, some of my favorite memories with you are just like this—the quiet, the closeness... That's what I love. Just being here with you is more than enough for me."

The anxiety eased a little more, and you felt yourself start to relax, a small wave of relief washing over you. But even as the tension began to ease, he looked at you again, as if making sure you felt completely safe.

"Would it be okay if I hold you?" he asked, his voice gentle, without a hint of pressure.

The thought of him holding you, just being close, was exactly what you needed. You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips. "Yeah... I'd like that."

With a soft smile, Damien pulled you into his arms, his hold warm and steady. You melted into him, letting the worries fade as he held you close, his hand gently rubbing your back.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper. "And honestly, I'd be the luckiest person in the world just to fall asleep next to you tonight."

You felt a wave of warmth in your chest, the insecurities slipping away as you leaned into him, feeling safe. "I love you too, Damien."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. 

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 8

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

⚠️Caution before reading⚠️

There's some deep conversations in this chapter so I advise to read with caution. A warning is there's heavy talk of Woojin, please remember the names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters are based after. The actions, views, personalities and characteristics of these characters do not in any way shape or form reflect their real selves. This story is all for fun so please keep it that way. No hate. It took me a good two days to write this chapter with many breaks in between. I wasn't sure how I should write Y/n's backstory and had decided on trying to make it more relatable. For anyone who's used to reading my stories either on here or other platforms know I write a lot of things based on my own personal experiences so I can write better endings especially with comfort characters. This series is no different. Please know that I did exaggerate parts of it and everything that happened was years ago and I have gotten away from it. Thank you now please enjoy.

Chapter 8

Y/n’s dry heat lasted four days. Four days of them all taking turns cuddling with her in the nest keeping her fed and hydrated. Every morning and night Minho would kick everyone out of the den and apply the creams to her now mostly healed wounds and make sure she takes her medicine before helping her change into new clothes having been sweating through the previous ones each time. 

The worst day had to have been the second when she became super emotionless and just seemed to be a shell of a person. Her scent even became almost nonexistent. But they stayed with her especially when it caused her to sub-drop that night and they barely got any sleep trying to make sure she didn’t drop too deeply. 

They all slept in the nest with her every night, well except for Hyunjin. He didn’t come home the first night and snuck in the second night when they were all dealing with Y/n’s sub-drop. It was the third morning when her scent went back to normal from it that his beta started telling him she’s his fated mate causing his stomach to drop and his heart to ache. 

He would go downstairs occasionally, pretending to grab a drink or food and would subtly check in on her. That night he silently cried himself to sleep on the couch wanting to be close to her but knew he had fucked up. The fourth night after he cried himself to sleep again Changbin grabbed him from the couch and carried him to join everyone else in the nest. 

Hyunjin woke up the fifth morning in the nest with Jeongin hovering over him curiously. “Hi Innie.” 

“You better apologize to her.” The alpha tries to act dominant but it doesn’t last long as he pounces on him. “I’ve missed you, I hate when you act like that.” 

“I’ll apologize, I promise.” Hyunjin pulls the pup closer to him, happy to be with his mates again. 

“Mins going to kick us out soon to do what he needs to.” Jeongin whispers nuzzling into the betas neck.

And the youngest was right, as soon after Minho kicked them all out and moved to the omega to wake her up. “Come on kitten.”

“Let me sleep, Min.” She rolls over.

“Look at me, omega.” He places a hand in her hair and rubs gently as she whines and looks up at him.

The alpha sighs in relief when he sees her eyes are no longer foggy as they have been.

“You okay baby?”

“My body aches a bit.” She yawns and stretches. “And I need a shower.”

He smiles down at her, happy the dry heat is over. “How about a bubble bath instead? I don’t think any of us are ready for you to be alone quite yet.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve established already that you need to take me on a date first before you can get my clothes off.” She smirks causing him to give an evil grin.

“Kitten, I’ve been taking your clothes off for the last four days.”

“Yah!” She blushes in embarrassment and quickly covers her face with one of the nearby blankets. “I’m sorry you guys had to do all of that.” She whimpers and Minho grabs the top of the blanket pulling it down to see her face.

“You don’t have to apologize for that, baby.” His hand finds its way back into her hair. “You never have to apologize for things like this. We’ll take care of you, always, no matter what. It’s what packs do, especially for their mates.”

“But I’m not even pack.” She frowns. “And I’m not mated to you guys.”

“You are pack, no one can say otherwise.” He smiles at her. “And we’ll get you mated to us soon enough.”

She blushes again and he can’t help but fawn over how cute she is as he moves his hands down to her sides and starts tickling her.

“No, Min, stop.” She laughs trying to wiggle away from him.

“Only if you promise to stop frowning so much.”

“Okay, okay, I give.” She giggles, he stops and smiles down at her.

“There’s that beautiful smile.” 

Chan pokes his head in the door. “I heard her laughing, I’m guessing it’s over?”

“Yeah.” Y/n sits up properly and the alpha sighs walking into the room moving to the nest. 

“You scared us a little, baby girl.” He pulls her to his chest. “But you’re good now and that’s what matters. How are you feeling?”

“A bit achy and in need of a shower.”

Chan frowns a little at this. “How about a bubble bath?”

“That’s what I told her too.” Minho smiles.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t need all of you sitting in the bathroom while I take a bath. I think I’ll be okay alone.” 

“For our sanity, please just let one of us sit in there with you.” Chan tries to negotiate. 

“Fine.” The omega crosses her arms. “But it’s going to be Felix who does.”

“Deal.” Both alphas agree.

“I’ll go start it and let Lix know.” Minho stands up.

“Make sure to use Hyunjins expensive bath salts and bubbles.” Chan smirks. “He deserves it after how he was acting.”

Minho nods with a smirk and leaves the den and Chan turns back to the girl.

“My memories are a bit hazy from the last few days but I remember Seungmin helping me when it first started.” She whispers. “But I don’t remember Hyunjin ever being around. Is he still not happy?”

“Well I’ll tell you this.” The alpha coos at her. “Jinnie cried himself to sleep on the couch the last two nights and Bin had to bring him to the nest last night. He hasn’t said anything about you being her for the last two days and considering that and the fact that he was not so subtly trying to check on you, I think he’s realized how badly he fucked up. Just like Minnie did.” 

Y/n nods but also feels guilty for being the reason the oldest beta was crying himself to sleep.

“Sooo…” she rings her fingers together. “What’s going to happen now?” 

“You’re gonna get washed up and it’s the last day you need to take the antibiotics and do the creams.” He explained. “And then we’re gonna sit down as a pack and discuss everything.” 

She nods and starts to overthink about how the pack meeting will go but doesn’t get to worry for long as Felix rushes in tackling her into the nest.

“Hi sunshine.” He purrs. “I’m so glad to see you’re better now.” 

“Hi Lixie.” She nuzzles into him.

The older omega turns to Chan. “Can I take her now?” 

The alpha can’t help but smile at the two. “Yes baby, you can take her.” 

Felix grabs her hand, dragging her out of the nest and into the large bathroom on the first floor where Minho is just turning the taps off for the bath. The room smells of bath salts and the tub is full of bubbles. 

“I put your clothes on the counter.” Minho motions. “And I’ll be back afterwards to help you apply the creams. Lix keep an eye on her. Shout if you guys need anything.”

 Felix turns away as she strips and gets into the bath and once she tells him he’s good he sits against the wall next to the tub and talks with her as she soaks. He helps her wash her back then her hair and once she was ready to get out he left to get Minho again as she dried off and changed into shorts and a bra for the alpha to help her with the creams one last time and after getting her shirt on they head into the dining room.

“Y/n.” Seungmin comes over to her. “I’m really sorry…”

The omega hugs him tightly, surprising him. “It’s okay.” He relaxes and hugs her back. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course pup.” He buries his nose into her neck.

“I’m also really sorry for how I acted.” Hyunjin stands nearby. “I know it’s going to take some time with everything I said but I’ll work on it as I know now that you are our omega.”

Y/n smiles at him and nods as Seungmin lets her go and everyone moves to sit around the table to discuss everything. 

“So first things first Y/n.” Chan starts, sitting across from her. “You wanted to tell us about what happened before we found you. If you’re not ready yet that’s okay, just let us know when you are.”

“Hyunjin and Seungmin also wanted to explain themselves for how they acted.” Changbin explains, sitting between the two betas. “It will also help give you some understanding about the pack's history.”

Seungmin sighs, leaning back against the chair. “As you saw in the pictures in the tenth bedroom upstairs, we had another pack member, another alpha. That was his room.”

“His name was Woojin.” Hyunjin crosses his arms. “It was back before all of us officially became each other's mates but we had all been discussing it as we understood we were each other's fated mates. We had also all agreed we would be looking for you, our fated omega.”

“But Woojin had other ideas.” Felix growls which was the first time she’s ever heard something like that from him.

“Woojin didn’t see omegas the same way as we do.” Hyunjin watches the omega like beta. “He was very much not accepting of how Felix is when he finally had the confidence to explain his omega tendencies to us.”

Y/n grabs the other omega’s hand for both his and hers comfort. 

“We also saw it very quickly as he had started treating Lix poorly.” Jeongin grits his teeth. “Was treating him as though he wasn’t a person and we couldn’t accept that.”

“I understand that.” She whispers looking down at her and Felix’s intertwined hands. 

All of their hearts break hearing her words. 

“Innie was a late presenter and was a pretty fresh alpha at the time.” Minho pulls the youngest to him. “Because of it he was still learning but he knew to be protective of Lix as though he was his omega and it caused a nasty fight to break out.”

“We knew we couldn’t keep someone like him around.” Chan’s fist is clenched on the table. “We told him he had to leave which caused an even worse fight.”

“There was blood.” Jisung shudders. “And later we found out he had assaulted someone in town.”

“That’s why we keep his room off limits.” Seungmin motions upstairs. “Whatever he left and any photos with him in it the alphas packed up in boxes and left them in there.”

“After that we all agreed for our sake that eight is fate.” Hyunjin whispers. “Why Minnie and I weren’t happy about your presence here. We were afraid of something like that again. Getting attached just for you to do something to hurt us and leave.”

Y/n nods in understanding, unsure what to even say after hearing all of that as she’s still looking down at hers and Felix’s hands. She tried to speak a few times, opening her mouth only for nothing to be said.

Chan gets up and walks over to her chair pulling it out a bit so he can kneel in front of her. “What’s going on in that head of yours, baby girl?”

“A lot.” She mumbles looking at him. “Everything you guys had said as well as me trying to figure out how to tell you my situation.”

“You don’t have to tell us yet if you aren’t ready.” 

“No.” She shakes her head. “You guys need to know.”

“Are you sure?” Felix squeezes her hand. 

She nods and Jisung scoots over to the empty chair on his other side so Chan can take his seat to be next to the omega. 

“Like Innie, I presented late.” She sighs. “My family consists of mostly betas. The only alphas being my grandfather, uncle and youngest cousin. I’m the only omega in several generations in the whole pack. Both my parents, older brother and four younger siblings are all betas. As well as the rest of my aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. Most other pack members are betas with the occasional alpha.We all originally thought I was one too until I was seventeen and had my first heat. Even before then though I was treated differently.”

“My grandfather is the pack alpha. I was the oldest girl so there were a lot of expectations put on me that I was never able to meet. From a young age, every family or pack event I was the one to do everything. Clean, help cook, set everything up while all the other kids got to play. They would tell me to do several things at the same time and if I didn’t get something done in the time they wanted because I was doing the other stuff first I was reprimanded and punished. If my older brother tried to help me I was reprimanded or punished for putting my load on him instead of just doing it myself.”

“What would they do?” Jisung asks, leaning his head on Chan's arm. 

“At first it was just more chores that would just get stupider, like dust underneath of the dining table or not let me play with the other kids at all or say I didn’t deserve presents on Christmas and my birthday.” She sighs. “As I got older it became I wasn’t allowed to eat or no one was to talk to me for the whole day. Then it was all of that and I was locked in the basement away from everyone for a few hours. Nothing to really physically harm me as my grandfather wanted to look good as the pack alpha.”

Chan looks down at her still slightly bruised wrist with a raised brow. “I’ll get to that.” She whispers. “Everyone in our pack lived in the neighborhood so we were to always put on an act that we were the perfect family.” Y/n couldn’t help but to chuckle as she shook her head. “But we were far from that. My older brother never wanted to come around so my family would use the excuse of how hardworking he is, being busy with school and work. My parents separated and my dad left the pack and mated with an alpha female ten years younger than him and had my four younger siblings. My mom was a verbally, emotionally and mentally abusive alcoholic and anytime she fucked up, pissing her parents off they took it out on me. Would ignore me for weeks or months until I apologized, for I never even knew what, just for it to happen again not long after. Would “forget” to pick me up from school, leaving me there after they’d get my cousins. Prioritized everything my cousins had over anything I had. The worst having been the first time she went to rehab when I was fourteen.”

The omega takes in a deep breath as Felix pulls her closer to him for comfort and Chan places a hand on her thigh. “When I presented my family’s first reaction was to find a doctor who would administer the suppressant injections. The pack didn’t know and they were gonna make sure it stayed that way so every month, on the first, I was taken to that doctor to get the injection done. Wasn’t pleasant, it was painful, felt like it was burning in my veins for the first twenty four hours. I still went to school and graduated high school, even took a year of college. My mom was the main one who kept my food intake restricted to protein shakes and salads. Said that if I ate anything other than that then I would start to become curvier like an omega and they couldn’t have that. She got worse and she went to rehab for the second time when I was nineteen. Then again when I was twenty, then twenty two.”

“And again last week.” The boys were all shocked by this as their eyes widened. “My grandparents said I should stay with them while she's there since my older brother is nowhere to be found. Well at least that’s what they think, he was fed up with them and our mom that he moved to the northern side of Seoul and cut contact with all of them, but I’m the only one who knows that as he’s only kept in contact with me for the last year. He had tried to stay around as long as he could for my sake but he just couldn’t. I don't blame him. I should have realized that staying with my grandparents was a bad idea… They treated me as their maid and slave. I was fed up after the first day and told them I was going back to my house, that I’d be fine by myself. My grandfather said I don’t get to talk to them like that and how I’m a spoiled little bitch that they’ve been going easy on. How they’ve been so nice to me to help keep the illusion that I’m a beta but what they were telling me to do was how an actual omega is to be treated and I should act like one. I yelled at them about how they hate me being an omega and won’t let me be my true self so why would they treat me as such now?”

“That really pissed my grandfather off since he grabbed my wrist as hard as he could, dragging me across the house before… throwing me down the basement stairs. He continued to yell at me as I had gotten up trying to run up the stairs and maybe get past him but he blocked my exit causing me to run into him. After I fell back onto the top step he kicked me in the ribs pushing me down the concrete stairs again, hitting every step on the way down to the bottom. He shut and locked the door and turned the power off down there.” Y/n could feel how angry they all are at this point, the alphas growling softly, the betas clenching their fists, jaws locked, and Felix is now holding her protectively. “Even though I couldn’t see I could feel the bruising and the gash on my arm bleeding. I was kept down there for three days in complete darkness, with nothing to eat or drink. The day you found me was my aunt's birthday so they were letting me out to set up and prepare for it. It was the only opportunity I had so as soon as I was let upstairs I ran for it out the door, only able to grab my car keys on my way out. They yelled at me that if I leave then to never come back, saying that the family and pack would be better off without me. I drove as far as I could with what gas I had left. I thought about going to my brothers but I knew I didn’t even have enough gas to make it to the city or any money to get more. So when my car dinged in need of gas I pulled over as the first public place I saw.”

“The park.” Jisung is in tears as he clings onto Chan and Y/n nodes as she can feel Felix shaking as he holds her, knowing he’s also crying as he buries his face in her neck.

“What would you have done if we hadn’t been there?” Chan grips her thigh. 

“I honestly don’t know.” She whispers and grabs his hand trying to hold back her own tears.

“What do you wanna do now?” Minho hugs Jisung from behind as he leans over to look at her. “If you wish, we can take you to your brother's place.”

“Minho?” Jeongin lowly growls. 

“No Innie, he’s right.” Changbin sighs. “We said it was up to you, pretty girl. If you want to stay you’re welcome to but we aren’t going to force you. So we can take you to your brother if that’s what you want.”

“But you have to promise to keep in touch with us if you do.” Hyunjin smiles at her.

“You guys truly want me to stay?” She looks at each of them in hope. “All of you?”

They all nod in agreement giving a course of ‘yes’s’.

“Then I’d like to please stay.” She whispers and they all sigh in relief. “Is there any chance I’d be able to call my brother though, so I can tell him what happened and that I’m alright?”

“Of course, baby girl.” Chan lifts her chin to look at him. “Just let one of us know when and you can use our phones to do so.”

“We need to take you to get clothes here soon, while we do that we can get you a new phone set up too.” Jeongin stands up and comes around to pull her from Felix to hug her. “That way you will be able to stay in contact with him. You’re safe now, we promise that you’ll never have to go back to your grandparents again. You’re a part of our pack now.”

“Thank you.” She tears up.

Tag list: @pixie0627 @sinfulfic @estella-novella @mbioooo0000 @ms-flowergirl

@blindspot143 @ihrtlix @arishoriasims @fic-for-readers @motheraiya55

@hwangrfrnd @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @juskz @borahae-reads @dreamerwasfound

@galaxy4489 @kayleefriedchicken @lostgirlinthewoodss @catkight @royal-shinigami

@notevenheretbh1 @passionandsuga @m00njinnie @sukss

[graciegoeskrazy]

one more fight - she's begging you to stay stay part THREE

Matty Healy x lost!OFC!daughter!r

part 1 part 2

Warnings: crying, mourning/death of a parent, mention of running away, school lol, idk really, angst, ft George a bit

A/N: Idk how I feel about this but I think it's good. I had this way longer originally but the rest will just be separate parts. Some if the rest isn't s angsty (who IS she??) I like it. When Liam Payne died this reminded me that this is basically “I got adopted by one direction” fan fiction so now I hate it all actually but whatever

It had been a week since you attempted to run away from home, and a week since you decided to try calling this place home.

The days had been strange and tentative, each one blending into the next. You were slowly piecing together routines, latching onto anything that made you feel settled, though part of you wasn’t ready to trust the feeling. School, of all things, had become a useful distraction. It wasn’t that you suddenly loved studying or cared much about what grades you’d get—just that there was comfort in the rhythm of it. It gave you something to think about other than Matty or Mum. With midterms looming, you had a convenient excuse to keep your head down, keep to yourself, and attempt to be unnoticeable.

Your room, the biggest you’d ever had, still didn’t feel entirely like yours, Since the night Matty found your diary and read how you truly felt about staying, you’d been slowly adding little pieces of yourself to it—posters, knickknacks, little things that might make it feel like you belonged there. Nothing too bold or permanent, just small touches, as if you were testing how much of yourself you could leave behind in this space without making it obvious. It was easier to imagine Matty noticing and disapproving, though he’d only ever tried to show how much he wanted you to feel loved.

Every morning he’d check in, a soft knock on your door, asking if you needed anything. He never asked outright if you were okay or if you wanted to talk, and you only assumed it was because he knew that was too much to ask, too soon. Instead, he let you take each day as it came, hoping that small gestures—a cup of tea, your favorite snack he’d bring home for you, a movie night he’d suggest but would never force—would show you that this was, in his eyes at least, home for as long as you wanted it to be. Maybe even for good.

Yet the question lingered in the air between you both, like a thread that neither one of you wanted to pull. The question of staying. You hadn’t spoken about it since the night he found your diary, and though you’d been too mortified to say anything then, you wondered now if he’d been waiting all along for you to come to him and make it real with words. But for now, you settled into the quiet in-betweens, letting the weeks go by without saying anything final, and instead working to leave small pieces of yourself where you hoped they might take root.

…….

You never heard the quiet rumble of the car outside or the front door shutting. It was only when the light spilling through your bedroom door shifted into the shadow of a man that you finally turned around. Matty stood there, dressed in black with his wallet and keys in hand, dress shoes still on—he hadn’t even bothered to drop them off by the door. He’d come straight to you. “What the bloody hell are you doing up at this hour?” he asked. You rolled your eyes, too exhausted for his lecturing, and turned back to your work.

“Studying,” you said calmly.

He walked toward you, his tone firm but holding no anger or malice. “Not at one in the morning! You should be in bed. I told you I wanted you asleep by the time I got home.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not looking up from your work.

He sighed, setting his keys and phone down on your desk. “Did you eat dinner?”

“Yes,” you replied, a little too quickly.

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re lying now, are we?” You shot him a confused look. “I checked my credit card charges,” he added, shrugging with a smile. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your study guides. But before you could get back to work, he closed your laptop and began shutting the books on your desk. “It’s time for bed.”

“No, I’m busy.” You said, starting to open everything back up. Matty started closing everything again as soon as you did, putting more books into your backpack beside your desk.

He laughed, which pissed you off even more, “Don’t tell me ‘no’, it’s time for bed.” You ignored him, opening your laptop and trying to resume working, but it was no use, he just kept shutting everything off around you,

"Stop," His voice was firm, cutting through the air. The word felt heavier than it should, a gentle command that broke through the walls you had been trying so hard to keep up. Your body reacted instantly, curling in on itself as if his voice had unlocked something inside you. You pulled your knees to your chest and clamped your hands over your eyes, as though covering them could make the world go away. The tears you'd fought all night surged forward, warm and relentless. The sobs you’d been choking back finally broke free, trembling out in small gasps, filling the silent room.

For a moment, you felt nothing but the weight of it all—your sadness, your anger, the uncertainty that seemed to wrap itself around you like a second skin. You couldn’t stop shaking, the tears pouring out faster than you could handle, but before you could drown in them, you felt Matty slowly shift beside you. His hand wraps around your wrist. It wasn’t forceful, just a quiet, persistent tug, and you let him pull your hand away from your eyes. Your vision blurred through the tears as you blinked up at him, trying to make sense of his face through the haze of emotions.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice softer now, the firmness replaced by something warmer, something that felt like home. His arms opened prompting you to come to him.

Without thinking, you moved. The space between you two disappeared in a second as you pushed yourself off your desk chair and stumbled into him. You buried your face in his chest, your body shaking as his arms came around you, pulling you in tightly like he was trying to piece you back together. His chin rested on top of your head, and you could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, a rhythm that began to steady your own.

"It’s okay," he whispered into your hair, his voice a soothing tone against the storm raging inside of you. "I’ve got you. Let it out."

You sobbed harder, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as if clinging to him could stop you from falling apart completely. He didn’t flinch, instead, his hands moved in slow, comforting circles across your back. His touch was light but steady, grounding you with each stroke. He rocked you gently, the motion slow and rhythmic like he was trying to lull you out of the darkness with nothing but his presence.

"Shh," he murmured again, his breath warm against your hair, "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

His words wove their way into the cracks of your heart, slowly calming the tidal wave of emotions crashing inside of you. The ache in your chest began to ease, though the tears kept coming. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed this, how much you’d been holding back until this moment. The dam had broken, and now there was no stopping the flood.

But he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you tighter, wrapping his arms around you like a shield, protecting you from the world. He leaned back slightly, shifting his position so that you could sink further into his embrace, his arms cradling you like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, his voice steady. Each word felt like it was unraveling the tight knots that had wound themselves deep in your chest, loosening the tension that had been building since your mom died. You weren’t sure how long you’d been crying, but he never left your side, never pulled away,

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and slowly, the sobs began to fade. Your breaths, though still shaky, came easier now, and the iron grip you had on his shirt began to soften. You felt heavy—exhausted, drained—but somehow lighter at the same time, as if some weight had been lifted. His hands never stopped moving, rubbing soothing patterns across your back, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles over your shoulder blade.

He didn’t push you to speak. He didn’t pry or prompt you to explain. All he did was hold you, shushing your tears, whispering that everything was going to be okay. And it was you who chose to break the silence, your voice muffled against his shirt as you continued to cry into him.

“I just miss her,” you whispered, your words broken by the tears that hadn’t fully subsided.

He paused for a moment, letting the weight of your words hang in the air. The only sounds were your quiet hiccups and the soft rustle of his breath as he held you tighter.

“I know,” he finally said, his voice gentle, full of understanding.

“I just...want to see her again.”

“I know, baby-”

“And I’m so tired.” The exhaustion wasn’t just physical at this point.. Every part of you was worn thin, stretched beyond breaking.

“I know,” he whispered again. “But pushing yourself like this, studying until you can’t see straight, working every second of every day... it won’t bring her back, love. It won’t take away the hurt.”

His words settled in your chest, heavy but true. You felt the warmth of his breath on your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He then spoke words that would take a while to itch out of your brain, “You don’t have to be so strong all of the time, kid.” You continued to let the small tears flow off of your cheeks and onto his shirt, “You can ask your help every once in a while, you know that right?” You didn’t nod or answer, just stayed still, letting his words sink in.

He looked at you as he spoke, “You’ve had a long day,  I’ll bet money your exams will go just fine, and deep down, I think you know that, too.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes soft but serious. “But if you don’t get some rest, you’ll be too tired to keep your eyes open for any exam you take.” His fingers brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It’s time for sleep now, love.” You just nodded as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go get changed. I'll be right here.” You slowly pried yourself off of him, the chill in the air coming back without his warmth.

You grabbed one of the pajama sets from your dresser and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The momentary silence felt heavy, almost suffocating after the outpour of emotions just moments before. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly as you turned it on, casting a harsh glow on your reflection in the mirror.

For a second, you just stared. Your face was blotchy and red, eyes swollen from crying, dark circles lingering beneath them from nights of restless sleep. It was hard to recognize yourself like this—so raw, so vulnerable. A completely different person than the one you were mere months ago. You reached up to rub at your cheeks, your fingers brushing over tear-streaked skin, but the feeling lingered deeper than the surface.

You dried your face, tugging on your pajama top and slowly made your way back out of the bathroom. Matty was still sitting where you left him, his expression soft but watchful as you re-entered the room. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a small, reassuring smile, patting the spot beside him.

And without thinking, you went to him, letting the quiet between you two speak for itself.

He moved out of the way and moved the covers down, prompting you to get in. He pulled them up once you settled in and started fluffing your pillows. His gaze finally met yours once he got you settled and he couldn’t help the small frown on his face when he saw your eyes, still full of tears.

“Shh. It’s alright my love.” he said, voice almost a whisper, secretly trying to lure you to sleep

You looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. The ones he has become very accustomed to. “Will you stay with me?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

It took everything in your father to not cry in that moment, seeing you so small, so fragile. So terrified of what was to come made his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Of course I will.” He said.

Once he took his place next to you, you wasted no time, immediately finding a spot against him and his chest. He held you tighter as you cried into him. He didn’t say a word, yet you felt the most supported you’ve ever been. It almost felt as if a weight started to lift off of you. Eventually, your sobs subsided. The amount of crying in that short time was enough to wear you out during your barely conscious state, He was still in his dress shirt and pants, not that he cared. All he could think about was you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to let go of you.

…….

George bursted through the door, slamming it loudly. Not aware of your sleeping form on the couch, You were cuddled into your father, asleep, face hiding in his chest while your legs were sprawled out on the rest of the couch. To Matty’s surprise, his loud, booming voice didn’t wake you. Matty shut him up before he could continue. “Shhhh! Shut up will you!” he whispered. If he could’ve shouted he would.

George abruptly stopped when his eyes caught sight of you. “Christ, is that her?”

“No, it’s another 12-year-old who lives in my house.” George rolled his eyes. Matty continued, “She’s still asleep. Come sit.” He nodded towards the chair next to him.

He saw George’s hesitant look as he slowly crept to the couch, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. Matty noticed the way his gaze hovered over you as he took slow, calculated steps towards the chair, afraid a creek in the floorboard would wake you up. He spoke as he sat down. “Why so tired? It’s barely 3?”

Matty shrugged, “She’s been up late. Barely sleeps through the night since Flo died. Being up through the night studying for her exams sure didn’t help.”

George quietly sighed. “Poor girl.” He looked at you once more, paying attention to your features, now having a proper chance. “Christ, she looks just like you.” He said, almost a whisper.

Matty looked up at him quickly. “You think?” He said, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.

“Without a doubt.”

Matty hummed, looking at you again, “Acts like me too, stubborn as hell.”

George let out a small laugh before quickly responding. “Nah, I don’t imagine she’s as big of a pain in the ass as you.”

Matty rolled his eyes. “Oh shut-”

“Dad?”

Both men panicked when they heard the timid and groggy sound of your voice. You were still half asleep, not even bothering to open your eyes all the way. The sun peeking in through the living room windows was too bright anyways,

“I’m sorry I woke you, my love.” He whispered sweetly. “Go back to sleep, darling.”

You rubbed your eyes as if doing so would get rid of the tiredness in them. “What are you doing?” You asked while stretching.

“Nothing, just talking with George. Come here, come back to sleep, my love.” You didn’t argue, just fell limp again into his arms. Matty smiled down at you as George breathed a sigh of relief.

“Shush,” Matty said to him.

“Me shush? You're the one who woke her up!” He whisper-shouted,

Matty shrugged and repeated. “Shush.”

“She’s been doing alright otherwise?” George asked, his pettiness now replaced by pure concern.

Matty smiled as he continued his mindless movements of rocking you back and forth, “As good as she can be. All things considered.”

George hummed. “...And you? You doing alright there ‘Dad’?’

Matty sighed as he looked between his best friend and his daughter, his shoulders falling slump. “...I don’t know. I just…Sometimes I can’t believe she’s mine. Not because of everything that’s happened, but because she just seems…too good for me.”

As much as George wanted to make a joke and say something stupid like well, most women are, he didn’t. He stayed silent, only nodding his head to prompt Matty to continue. “She’s so mature. Well beyond her years, sometimes I think she’s more mature than me. She’s smart. Really really fucking smart, way smarter than me…sometimes I wonder how i’m supposed to help her…grow.” 

“I think you’ve done much more and much better than your giving yourself credit for.”

He sighed, “She’s already amazing. I don’t want to fuck her up. She too perfect.”

George nodded “Maybe that part she gets from Flo.”

Matty smiled, knowing he was right.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 5

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.5

“Hey, stretch. You here to play doctor?”

“I’d just like to interview you. I’m not going to touch you if that's what you’re concerned about.”

“Why not?”

“...ANYhow, I have a few questions for you.”

“Yes, I'm single.”

“Not those kinds of questions. Can you tell me your full first name?”

“Can you give me yours first?”

“Fiddleford.”

“Stan.”

“Okay, Stan. Where are you from? And don’t you dare say from my dreams.”

“Well yeah, I’d say ‘from your dreams’, not mine. Other than that, probably some gutters or a ditch somewhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as I remember, I’ve been out on the streets, or in prison. I think I had a car at some point? But I dunno what happened with that, it makes my head burn trying to think about it.”

“Do you have any family?”

“No.”

“Do you remember ever having a family?”

“I don’t remember having one, but I feel like I had one before.”

“What do you feel like happened to them?”

“They probably got tired of my BS and told me to take a hike. It’s how it always goes with me.”

“That’s a theory you’ve put together. I’m asking what you feel like happened.”

“Feel like I had a dad who was waiting for an excuse to get rid of me. I feel like I had a mom who was a liar - I probably got it from her. Maybe a sibling or two? But they don’t want me around.”

“And what do you think about Stanford?”

“You mean the guy who drugged me, kidnapped me, and is keeping me prisoner in his evil basement sub-lab in the middle of the woods? I gotta say, he makes an impression.”

“But does he seem familiar to you?”

“I don’t think I could forget someone like him” 

“Is it because of his six fingers?”

“It’s twelve , and no, that's pretty normal compared to all of his other weird crap. It’s because he’s fucking crazy , and convinced I’m some mystery twin of his. But let’s stop talking about him, and talk about you instead. Are you single? You doing anything later?”

“Stay on track, Stan. Let’s take a step back and go back to talking about you. Have you recently gotten into any accidents or sustained major injuries?”

“Define ‘major’.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Judging by your friend's reaction to the stab wounds when we met, I don’t think your definition of major injury is the same as mine.”

---

"What did you determine, Fiddleford?"

"It wasn't easy to glean things because he would not stop flirting with me - was he always this way?"

"He was a little girl-crazy when we were younger, I didn't know he liked men. But that doesn’t matter right now, what were your findings?"

"He has full cognitive function. And based on your scans he has no signs of brain damage - comparing images of his brain to yours, his genetically identical twin, there isn't any morphological difference. Based on my interview, it sounds like he's never sustained significant head trauma neither.”

"But..?"

"If he really does have amnesia, it wasn't caused by a head injury."

"What else could it be?"

"A few things - perhaps he took a drug or substance that warped his brain chemistry. Or- more likely in my opinion, based on his lifestyle and what little history he tells me, he might have undergone extreme distress that caused a mental breakdown."

"Mental trauma can cause someone to lose their memories?"

"Our memories can be a shield and a sword, Stanford. Even good memories that can comfort you through a difficult time, can also cause pain and frustration when compared to a bad predicament.

He must have gone through something so traumatic that the only way his mind could cope with the stress was to... forget things. This is a phenomenon known as repression . Most of the time, a person would repress the traumatic event itself, but it looks like he’s defied the statistics and forgotten everything else instead.”

“He can’t be… that traumatized, right? This is Stanley we’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what he was like before, but he’s got a mullet, Stanford. There ain’t no way he's in a good place mentally.”

"And how would repressing memories about our family- about me , possibly help him cope with trauma?"

"If I'm going to be frank with you, this is the first time in the years that I've known you that you even mentioned having a twin brother . You've talked about other family members before, such as your older brother Sherman, but never him.

If his mind had to prioritize which memories to keep, why would it keep memories of someone he isn't close to?"

"We are- well, we were close."

"Were is a strong word, Stanford. Survival focuses on the present, not the past.”

“... What can we do to get his memories back?”

“I’m not a therapist. But perhaps if you can get him out of the survival mindset, he’d be open to some introspection.”

“So we must disable his fight-flight-freeze response…”

“Stanford Pines, I will throw that damn tranquilizer gun down the bottomless pit if you don’t put it down. Ya'll really need to stop using the slippery slope of science without consideration for morality like it's a damn seesaw. There are other ways to get him out of fight-flight.”

“Such as?”

“I would suggest you make him feel like he’s in a safe space, but that might not work.”

“Why not? He’s perfectly safe here.”

“But does he know that? From his perspective, you’re a stranger who shot him with a tranq dart and imprisoned in your basement for scientific exploitation. And I’ll remind you, this is all without his consent. He is here against his will.”

“It’s for his own good.”

“According to you, someone he thinks he doesn’t know. This may be your twin, Stanford, but he doesn’t know that. You need to gain his trust; maybe he would have trusted you by default in the past, but that isn’t the case now.”

“I… I’m not sure how to do that, Fiddleford. At one point, we knew everything about each other. And now I barely know him, and he thinks I’m a stranger. I’m still angry at him, and still bitter about what he did before he left home, and I’m disappointed in the conman and convict he turned into… but I’m sad, because he's convinced he’s not my brother.”

“You ain’t exactly the same person you were even when we first met all them years ago. People change. How about you try talking to him?”

“Just talking to him?”

“This may be difficult for you in particular, but you should try talking to him like he’s a person; and not a science experiment, anomaly, or an equation you’re trying to solve… Hey, hey don’t be looking like the last pea at pea-time now. I believe in you, you got this.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford.”

*Ford goes back downstairs to the lab. Fiddleford waits for him to be out of earshot before speaking*

“Bless his heart. This is going to be a disaster.”

To be continued…