#and the only thing differentiating it as far as i can see

[foundfamilywhump]

day 100000 of me seeing a post about 'care/whumpers' and thinking 'that is literally just a whumper who is nice sometimes. you are literally just describing a whumper'

[pprodsuga]

while you were sleeping

summary: jay thinks he loves you best when the two of you are back together in the early hours of the morning.

notes: hi hi! totally messed up on my taglist and didn't realize i couldn't differentiate who wanted to sign up for what taglist. i'm sorry if i tagged you here and you only request my smau - please do let me know if you'd like to be removed and i'll rectify it, no hard feelings or questions asked! x

enjoy this short lil slice of life au

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

add yourself to my taglist !!

masterlist

When Jay looks down at your still figure after he’s awoken, he’s not surprised to see that you’re still sleeping. 

It’s endearing, the way your cheek is pressed against the side of his arm and the way your lips form a small pout. He’s impressed at the way the two of you have managed to somehow cling to each other in your slumber. Your hair’s rustled from a good night’s sleep and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up. 

Jay presses a chase kiss to your temple and refrains the urge to laugh at your stone-like figure, opting to swing himself over the bed and get ready for the day. He’s no stranger to late nights and early mornings; his sleeping schedule is far beyond the point of saving and he knows there’s no use staying in bed when he isn’t planning to sleep. 

When he emerges from the bathroom, you’re still sleeping in the same position you were when he first woke up. Jay looks at you from the foot of the bed and tilts his head as if he's inspecting you, and he might as well be with his laser focus on the subtle movement of your chest rising and falling against the soft mattress below you. 

It’s not every day he gets to wake up with no alarm and with you sleeping beside him. Jay savors days like this where all he worries about is what time to start cooking breakfast to the time when you wake up. But he knows you’ll subconsciously emerge from his bedroom when the smell of the meal he’s preparing begins to echo throughout the dorm rooms. That, he knows for sure. 

Like clockwork, Jay pulls the ingredients to make a simple, warm breakfast when he closes his bedroom door shut behind him. Jake is barely awake with Jungwon on the couch in the living room when Jay begins to scroll on his phone for recipe ideas with the ingredients they have in their fridge and pantry after a last minute shopping trip. Neither of the two boys acknowledge Jay’s presence beyond a slow nod, with Jungwon rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with no luck. 

Jay’s lucky, in a sense, that jetlag doesn’t affect him too much when he returns home. He’d love to think it’s because he’d rather fight his body to stay awake in order to spend time with you until he’s whisked away on another flight to a different country. Phone calls and texts are frequent between the two of you, but it’s never enough. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon join the others on the couch and Jay’s sure he must've woken up Sunoo with the accidental bang of metal bowls. Riki’s the last to emerge, appearing slightly more awake than the rest of his members, but all six of them sit wordlessly around the common area on their phones or watching the television. 

The best thing Jay can whip up is a simple American breakfast–pancakes, eggs, and bacon with fresh fruit on the side–from the groceries you had so graciously offered to buy before they returned home. Jay had told you to buy enough to cover one meal for the next morning to survive the massive jetlag all seven of them were about to experience, but you’d gone a step beyond and had replenished their fresh fruits and small desserts as a form of a welcome home gift. It feels comforting to eat strawberries in the comfort of his own home as opposed to tasting it on extravagant cakes in some European city he’ll return to only for work. 

“Smells good,” is the only thing Heeseung says before gulping down a large glass of water. His voice is hoarse from the months spent on tour and promotions, and Jay knows how tired the eldest must be if he isn’t willing to crack a joke or two. 

Jay takes one look at his bedroom door to see that it’s still closed as he left it. He considers himself wildly lucky to have someone as compassionate and as kind as you in his life; his career path leaves little room for mistakes and the culture around dating as a public figure leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks about the beginning of your relationship. Jay doesn’t enjoy hiding you, nor does he like the fact that he isn’t free to talk about you without a moment’s notice. But you reel him in and you’re the one who reminds Jay that the world doesn’t need to know about your relationship in order for it to be real. 

Still, he thinks he asks too much of you when he kisses you in a secluded area of the airport or when he has to rush you backstage before his shows begin. 

Jay is sure the fans pick up on his changed behavior. He’s hesitant to hold hands with people he meets unless they ask him to. He ignores fan-made signs with flirtatious comments out of respect for your relationship. It irks him when journalists ask the group about their respective love lives because he can’t talk about you. Jay talks like he knows a thing or two about a thing or two, and he tries to ignore the comments on his livestreams when he converses a little too much about the meaning of love and happiness. 

His favorite moments with you are when he gets to walk around the city with a mask on his face and his hand in yours. For just a day, he can be a regular person on the streets of Seoul parading around the love he has for the person he’d love to call his life partner someday. He can make you flush in public and say things in your ear that’ll make you grab his arm just a little tighter. Jay can pretend he’s a normal twenty-year-old-something navigating his first serious relationship with the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. 

But he also loves it when you get to travel with him and watch him perform from the crowd in a country you’ve always wanted to visit. You always insist on it and he does his best to reserve a spot for you where you’ll be able to experience his concert like the dedicated fan that you are. He loves that you meet him backstage just moments before the encore, too, and he loves when you give him a short kiss before he’s wanted back onstage to say one final goodbye to an adoring crowd that chants his name at any given moment. Jay’s proud of his work and he’s elated to know you’re proud of it too. 

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears his bedroom door creak open, after he’s put the last pancake on your stack and as he pulls the bacon to fry. Jay looks behind him temporarily, your sleepy figure wrapped in a throw blanket approaching him with a blank stare as if you haven’t had a single thought in days. 

You look cute like that. 

“Morning,” you mumble into his back with your face pressed against the fabric and your arms around his middle. You leave room enough for Jay to maneuver without having to pry your arms off of him. 

“Hi, sleepy girl.” Jay moves his head and kisses the part of your head he can reach before shifting his focus to the task at hand. “Sleep well?” 

“Like a baby.” He hears you yawn. “But you were gone when I woke up.”

“Somebody needs to feed you,” Jay chides with a smile on his face. He feels you return his smile against his back. 

“Whatever you’re cooking smells really good, baby.” 

Jay thinks he might combust with the extra squeeze you give him. It’s been nearly three months since he was able to feel you cling onto him like this. 

“Oh, yeah? I picked up a few tricks from the hotel’s chef while I was abroad.”

“Like what?” 

“I shouldn’t turn the heat up too high when cooking thin meat like bacon and scrambled eggs have better texture when you leave it sitting for a few minutes.”

“I love having a personal chef.” 

Jay chuckles deeply. You press a long kiss to his back and he closes his eyes for a brief moment. 

“Almost done,” he promises, dropping the last bit of bacon for the two of you onto a plate before turning the head off. 

“Oh shit, that bacon smells so good.” 

Sunghoon emerges from behind him and eyes the meat that’s still steaming underneath the kitchen light. Jay swats his hand when it gets too close to the bacon, but he inevitably draws the attention of the other members who are now more awake than they were twenty minutes ago. 

“Those pancakes look good,” Riki comments. You’ve let go of your boyfriend by now, who is actively trying to pull away the breakfast he’s made for just the two of you.

“Yah,” Jay says. “You guys can make your own breakfast. This one’s for me and my girl.” 

“But it smells so good and I might die of hunger,” Jungwon dramatically wines, stomach growling as if on cue. 

While Jay is bickering with Jake, who has taken it upon himself to scope through the fruit Jay has cut for you, you’ve stolen a decent-sized pancake and begin to tear it into pieces. You hand one to Riki, and then to Sunoo who has waited quietly behind the taller boy, and then to Jungwon, who looks at you as if you’ve saved him from starvation. The four of you munch on the sweet pancake while the other four boys begin to raise their voices until Sunghoon points at the four of you silently eating in front of them. 

“You wound me,” Sunghoon accuses you, hand dramatically clutching his chest when he realizes what you’ve done. “After all we’ve been through?” 

“They were hungry,” is your only defense. 

“This is preferential treatment,” Jake begins to argue with a pout.  

Heeseung’s busy putting pieces of bacon in his mouth the moment Jay looks away from the sizzling plate. It’s too late by the time the young chef realizes what’s happening. Before he knows it, half of the breakfast he’s dedicated his morning to cooking is in the stomachs of people he had not intended to feed. 

Jay looks at you with an apologetic smile despite knowing you were the one who instigated this predicament. Wordlessly, you pull the used metal bowl from the sink and rinse it before beginning to make more pancake batter. You silently coax Jay into frying up more bacon by bumping his hip with yours. 

Jungwon’s the first to thank you. He leans his head down to rest on your shoulder for a few seconds before Sunoo does the same to your other. They both leave as Riki tugs your shorter body into his from behind and lets his cheek rest against the crowd of your head, mumbling a quiet gratitude as you whisk the batter. 

Jay merely looks at you in awe after Riki detaches himself. You’re concentrating far too hard on not spilling the sweet mixture on the counter as the boys resume their time in the living room with Heeseung asking if any of them would like to play a video game while you two cook. 

“I love you,” he says before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. 

The kiss itself is over quicker than he’d like, but you look at him like he’s the only person in the room. 

“Come on,” you say, bumping your hip with his again. “We’ve got kids to feed.” 

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

taglist: @junsflow @jeongintwt @fantastichoagieuniversityhairdo @h4918ymc @justletmereadokay @makiswrld @ziakzing @who-tf-soddhi @baevsxii @en-dream @strawberrysavi @cloudyseokjinx @winuvs @2interrwonw @222.palesa @bubblytaetae @ariadores @shu-aa @Enhypensbestie @hyunjisungct @nxzz-skz.

so sorry to anyone who tumblr wont tag ):

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

note again in case you missed it: hi hi! totally messed up on my taglist and didn't realize i couldn't differentiate who wanted to sign up for what taglist. i'm sorry if i tagged you here and you only request my smau - please do let me know if you'd like to be removed and i'll rectify it, no hard feelings or questions asked! x

[scorpioriesling]

I (Almost) Don't Believe You

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Brennan x reader

Warnings: mutual pining, tiny mention of injury

Summary: It was already bad enough to find out your father and brother invaded your best friend's privacy; but sending you on a mission where it nearly killed her? Unbelieveable. What else is unbelieveable? The boy you'd fallen for so long ago would only be waiting for you on the other side...

SR’s Note: Um okay, as I am progressing through Iron Flame rn... like, Brennan is... ooh okay I am liking him quite a bit. He's helping ease the pain of loosing Liam (': Jokes, jokes... I don't think I'll ever get over that reality. Enjoy, lovelies.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The hours you'd been counting seemed to blur together as exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders. Was it exhaustion? Maybe it was just guilt. After everything you'd seen and gone through today, differentiating the two was... well, near impossible.

Your dragon has been all but silent, giving you time as thoughts race through your mind. Would your best friend wake up? If she didn't, the male sitting to your left would be all but gone too. A male you've come around to, especially seeing the way your closest friend reacts in his presence.

Gods, you wished for something like that.

Violet stirrs, her brow furrowing and shoulders moving on the cot where she lay. Both you and Xaden lean forward instinctively at the same time, and he huffs a small laugh as he glances sidelong at you. The two of you haven't spoken much since the arrival, and you're sure his mind is racing just as yours is.

"Vi... I hope you wake soon, you have people who've been waiting forever to see you," Xaden whispers. Your heart warms at his words -- long gone is the fearsome Wingleader you'd met only a year ago, and his familiar warmth is graciously returned in Violet's presence. She rolls to her side, eyes squeezing closed as she lets out a wide yawn. Xaden is on his feet in an instant -- you're quick to follow, flanking to her bedside.

"Violet?" You whisper. Xaden extends his hand, brushing hair from her face as she slowly blinks her eyes open. You can practically count the emotions swirling in her green eyes -- the one she registers and lands on quickly though, is confusion.

"Xaden... Y/N..." She pushes to a sitting position, Xaden clutching her shoulders and helping her readjust. She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, and looks around the room in confusion.

"Where... what is this?" She asks. Xaden sighs, hanging his head low. Her eyes meet yours in silent question, and you shrug. "Hey, I could ask the same thing. The more important thing right now is that you're awake..." You say.

"Awake and healing quickly," Xaden adds. His fingers have threaded through hers, and her confusion quickly turns to anger.

"Don't... don't think I've forgotten-" She yanks up the side of her shirt, revealing a dull purple bruise on her side. Angry black veins thread from the injury, and her gaze flicks back to Xaden.

"I haven't forgotten." Is all she says, and you feel sorry for Xaden. Sure; you're grateful your spitfire of a best friend is alive and well, but her gaze could cut right through him.

"I know." Is all he says, so hushed that you barely hear it. You nod once, and begin backing away from the bed.

"I'll... leave you guys for a while." You say. Xaden nods, and Violet shoots you a pleading glance. You can see her asking you not to leave her alone with him, but you know they have a lot to talk about.

You decide instead to head down the hallway outside the door, finding a kitchen shortly along your way. If you were going to give your friends space, you might as well do something productive. A million thoughts raced through your mind; where were you? Where were the others? How far from Basgiath were you? Not to mention the millions of thoughts plaguing your brain about your father, your brother; knowing what they were sending not only this section, but their own family into...

You shake your head. Productive. Rifling through the foreign cabinets, you look for something to make.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The afternoon sun is dipped low beyond the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of violet and navy as night falls. It didn't take long for the others to find you -- perhaps it was the smell of the dinner you'd scraped together that drew them in.

The first two days, Garrick or Bodhi were sent out to retrieve food for the group, and you decided by day three that you should lend a hand. After all, you'd been shown many house-chores like this over the years; your father never expected you to become a rider rather than a housewife, that is. Neither did your brother, and you knew he didn't like it one bit.

Your older brother Dain had always been protective over you; but his overprotection only intensified when your best friend's brother died, and he practically treated the two of you as though you were made of glass. When you'd braced the parapet, he looked ready to hurl, never expecting his little sister (or her fearless best friend, for that matter) to dare entering the rider's quadrant.

But, your appreciation for his overprotection died the moment he used his signet to send your section to certain death. Not only did he send you, his only sibling; but the girl he'd oogled over, swore so many times he loved with all of his heart, right along with you.

It didn't matter now. Everything was different.

"I don't know how you did it," Garrick smiles, sitting on the bench seat near the small dining table in the kitchen. "But you've got some skill, Y/N. I mean seriously, who scrounges all this up in a place they've never been, and produces such a delicious meal?" He shakes his head, shoveling a huge bite of stew into his mouth. You smile as Imogene makes her way into the space.

"Gods, I could simply kiss you for this," Bodhi follows her in, snatching up a bowl and waiting behind Imogene for his turn to scoop from the pot. You chuckle.

"You mean to tell me that you don't enjoy going out and hoping to return with food for us all?" You raise an eyebrow playfully, and before he can answer, Violet enters the kitchen. You instinctively make your way to her, and her pained smile emerges as she pulls you in for a light hug.

"How are you feeling?" Imogene chides, perching in a chair across from Garrick and looking Violet over. You let go of her, and she glances around to everyone.

"I'm... I'll be alright." She says, and you nod. Her eyes meet yours, and she quickly whispers, "We need to talk."

Your eyes widen, and you glance to the stove where the awaiting pot sits. "Violet, you haven't eaten in days-"

"It can wait." She rushes, taking hold of your wrist and all but dragging you into the hallway and out of earshot from the others. You glance around, and she sighs.

"Violet, I know you have questions; I mean, so do I, but-"

"Brennan is alive." She stares straight into your eyes, and a wave of adrenaline rushes over you at her words.

"Violet, what are you-"

"He's alive. He's here. Brennan. He's..." She fumbles, her hands clasping and releasing frantically. You place a hand on her shoulder lightly. "He's alive, Y/N." She says in finality. You shake your head, a small smile appearing on your lips.

"Violet, you might be thinking some wild things, they did give you a lot of medicine-" She grasps both of your shoulders with her hands, holding tight and giving you an incredulous look.

"Would I lie about something like this?" She whisper shouts. You furrow your brows at her.

"No! Gods no, I don't think you're lying, I just..." You shrug defeatedly. "He's been dead for six years, Vi. The last time we spoke of him..." Your throat tightens at the memory. "His soul was being condemned to Malek." The way the fire sparked as his belongings were thrown in. The way Violet cried for weeks, you sleeping in her room with her for sheer comfort. The way your heart tightened every time you thought of the way he used to look at you; his soft voice, so contrasted against his mother's uniformed nature. The way he'd lend you his books, sitting and talking with you for hours on end...

"Fine. Go see for yourself." She gestures down the hallway, the countless doors fading to dark as it stretched on. "Fifth door on the left. He's probably still in there." She says. You sigh, looking to her once more.

"Violet-"

"I'm going in to eat." She walks through the kitchen entryway once more, leaving you alone in the hallway. You sigh, wiping your clammy hands on your pants. You head down the hallway, counting the doors as you go. One, two, three... four...

You stood, face-to-face with the fifth wooden door, the only sound this far down the hall was your ragged breaths. You swallowed, raking your fingers through your hair as you remembered you'd been wearing the same, disgusting leathers for three days. If he really was on the other side of this door, you hated that the first thing he'd see of you in six years was... well, not your favorite look.

You knock softly, and the door creaks open. You hastily shove it open, breath catching as you peered around the room. The empty room, that is. Moving inside, you took in various things; tons of papers, many books, quills and ink pots upon the desk-

Your breath catches in your throat as you spot a tome that you'd recognized. It was one Brennan gave to you all those years ago, when you were nothing but a teenager with a crush. Your heart still fluttered at the feeling, the ache in your heart as fresh as it was the day he died.

You huff, not sure why you expected anything but this. VIolet was on many remedies, and there was no world in which a man that had died would come back to life, no matter how convincing your best friend sounded.

A small knock sounds on the door behind you, and your head whips around from the papers you'd begun staring at. Your heart immediately seizes as your eyes meet those familiar brown irises you'd longed for, for so, so long.

"Y/N?" Brennan whispers, and you can't help the immediate sting of tears behind your pupils as you look him up and down. It felt surreal; his cream-colored button down is only buttoned up half way; his fitted trousers outlining every muscle along his masculine legs. Your hand flies to your mouth as you gasp, the words choked behind a sob rising in your throat.

"Brennan?" You stutter, and his eyes widen as he immediately surpasses the door way. You don't stop yourself from stepping quickly toward him, throwing your arms around his neck as a soft cry escapes your lips. He was real. He was really real, he had to be. The ends of his brown curls, longer now than when you'd seen him last, tickle your forarms as you pull him close. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, lifting you on to your tip toes as he stands at his full height.

You can't contain the tears flowing from your eyes as you breathe him in deep; his familiar scent of cedar and cotton bringing you back to all of those special moments you'd shared before; sitting close, sharing stories and thoughts. All of those almosts.

Before he …died, anyway.

You pull back to look up at him, but he doesn't release you. Instead, his fingers card through your hair, stroking lovingly as he continues his embrace. You shake slightly, allowing every emotion taking over your mind to run free. You never thought you'd see, feel him again. All of your greif receeding as you accept the reality that you had only ever dreamed of.

"Y/N I'm... I'm so sorry." He whispers. You cry harder, only wishing he'd keep talking and convincing you this was real. But, you forced yourself to believe it was; the boy you loved, now in front of you once more, holding you, physically touching you-

"Gods, I missed you so much." You retreated from his hold, his hands still braced on your hips as your watery eyes bore into his. Taking him in, you realized he was different. Older. No more was the boy you'd been in love with six years ago; now before you, was a man. A handsome one, nonetheless.

"I... I don't..." you stutter, and a small smile braces his lips as his soft hands brush the few stray tears from your cheeks. "I... I don't know what to say." You admit, and his thumb brushes along your cheekbone.

"Well... at least you're saying something," he says, chuckling softly. The sound is like music to your ears, a sound you hadn't heard in so long. "I was afraid Violet would shread me with one of her daggers when I tried talking to her." You swallow, your gaze drifting to his mouth as he spoke.

"I... I don't say I could blame her," you say softly, your eyes reconnecting with his as shame takes over his expression once more. He sighs, the hands on your waist falling as he takes a step back. You immediately wish he wouldn't have, already hoping to be back in his embrace as soon as you could.

"Look, Y/N, I..." his eyes peer at the wall above you, as he seems to contemplate his words. "I never meant to hurt anyone, alright? I had to do it because-" You step forward, taking his hand in yours. You stare up at him longingly, shaking your head that this was all truly real.

"You can explain it all later," you say, and his mouth closes. You can't help but take in the familiar slant of his nose, his more defined jawline, the golden planes of his skin...

"You can't keep staring at me like that, Aetos." His voice has dropped so low it’s almost gravelly, as his gaze darkens upon glancing toward your mouth. You grin, your deft fingers unlacing his and moving to slide thorugh the mass of curls on his head softly.

"I'm just... I'm really, really happy you're okay." You whisper. His hands slide around you, finding purchase along the small of your back. You suck in a breath as he pulls you against him once more, and you spot the tears pooling along his waterline at your words.

"I thought you'd hate me," he whispers, his breath a gentle caress down the slope of your nose. His perfect lips, ones you'd pined over for years were so, so close. So... real. His chest lets out uneven breaths pushed up against yours, and your nerves threaten to eat you alive as you raise to your tippy toes once more to be eye-level with him.

"I don't think I could ever hate you, Brennan." He smiles, the motion only growing as your eyes search his once more. His perfect teeth are still the same; the sparkle in his eye, the way he chuckles softly. It's as if you're transported back in time.

"I didn't think I could love you more than I did the last day I saw you." A single tear slips, and your quick to catch it with your finger. As you retract your hand, his fingers are quick to curl around yours, holding your hands against his heart. Your brows knit in confusion as you lower your heels, but his grasp on you does not falter.

"You're..." you start. His hand caresses your cheek, guiding you as close to his lips as you could get without touching. Your heartbeat races as his thumb traces soft circles on the back of your hand pressed to his heart. His heartbeat picks up at the closeness, and you can't help but smile. Whether its anxiety, fear, pure love... you've never been quite the expert at sorting out your feelings anyway.

"I'm …what?" He whispers, and you can't stand it any longer. You lean up, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips. He stills, and you pull back, eyes as wide as his in shock.

"I'm so sorry, I-" He tugs you close again, your mouth colliding with his as he kisses you more forcefully. He keeps kissing you, both of his hands now cupping your face as yours grab onto the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. His lips part, allowing you access at your own pace; but you're quick to oblige, sliding your tongue along his bottom lip. A soft groan escapes his throat, and you inhale through your nose sharply at the sound. He's definitely more grown up than he was six years ago; more confident too. Gone was the shy, 19 year old who’d been deemed “too old” for you back then — now, he didn’t seem to mind the 5 year age gap now that you’d finally turned 20.

You continue indulging, before the strike of the clock from the hallway sounds. He doesn't seem to care as he explores your mouth; hands continuing their exploration, too. As the quiet overtakes the room once more, you finally pull back, gasping for air as he smirks down at you.

"I've waited… so long for that," he says, and your face heats. Little does he know, so have you. “Not coming back to find you, tell you I was alright was so hard, Y/N.” He leans back in for more, but you turn so his lips connect with your cheek instead.

"Oh, nuh uh," you hum. "You've got some explaining to do first before any of..." you motion between the two of you. "...this, continues." He rolls his eyes (glad to know he hasn't changed all that much), and backs up, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Okay, okay." He says. "I have to be in a meeting, uh..." He glances quickly at his watch. Your eyes track the movement; wishing his delicious fingers were holding you close again. "Uh, now, actually." He laughs sheepishly.

"Better get to it, then." You fold your arms over your chest, tilting your chin up in mock confidence. His hand slides along your jaw one more time, and he gazes down into your eyes.

"Later, we'll talk. I promise," he says. You continue your confident expression as his hand retreats, and he heads for the door, leaving it open behind him. You wait a few seconds before you follow behind him, but freeze as you enter the hallway and are met with a familiar stare you've come to know all too well. Leaning against the wall is your best friend, a smirk so similar to her brothers plastered on her face as she pins you with an accusatory look.

"I told you he'd be in there."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[guttedwhxre]

─ 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ❞ multiple slashers

UNDER THE CUT: bo sinclair, michael myers, billy loomis & stu macher

tw: reader death ment, violence, torture ment

author's note: photo courtesy of @/pngsnail <3 also, hi everyone! i missed you, did you miss me?

michael is one of the most particular of the slashers, and dating him means you must be able to handle his peculiarities. this requires patience and resilience to do so, losing your temper would only result in pissing him off. michael won’t have quarter for being patronized and demeaned, not anymore. a pissed off michael typically means a deadly michael — but your death won’t be immediate. he’ll toy with you, gradually making your life worse and worse. he’ll allow you to keep blowing up at him, snap at him, until one night michael ends it all, for good. as you look up at him while you bleed out on the floor, cursing him under your breath, he’ll slowly don his mask, and leave you there without a second thought. 

while he won’t allow a bad temper, or disrespect of any kind, michael is surprisingly lenient about you boundaries. as long as you’re firm, and gentle he’ll let it slide. in fact, he almost encourages it. in his own, twisted way. again, michael will push you in small ways until something is done about it. here you can blow up, or collect yourself and gently, yet firmly tell him what he’s done wrong and ask him to stop. that’s only the first part however, as you have to consistently keep these boundaries, or michael will push, push, and keep pushing. 

don’t let him threaten you. he’s not actually trying to kill you when he holds his blade to your neck, no, just testing you. even if you’re into that, you have to be able to differentiate between play time, and a test. once you know that’s he’s testing you, cut him off there. ask that he doesn’t put his knife to you outside of play time, and he’ll slowly drop the knife from your neck, tracing it down your front as he tries to initiate play. however, if you let him press the cold steel into your neck, sit still as his gaze rests on his knife and your supple flesh - he’ll stop there, for now. then another day, when he comes home, he’ll “accidentally” cut you with his knife, watch as you rush around to clean and cover up the wound, gently asking him to be more careful next time. more little “accidents” will follow, each one more life-threatening than the last, and it’ll become more apparent that michael is toying with you. he just wants to see what will happen! just because you let him each time, he wants to see your breaking point. if that ends in your death, well, michael still got what he wanted. to see you break. 

to be clear, michael isn’t very picky about what kind of person you are. just stay consistent, keep your boundaries and make them clear, don’t be a pushover, then you and michael will be very happy together.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

bo is a simple man. at least, that’s how he’d describe himself. he describes his ideal mate as the perfect house-spouse kind — docile, quiet, stays out of the way. but that is far from the truth. someone who submits with no questions asked, all of the time, would bore him. nah, bo sinclair needs someone to match his temper, his fire, not take any of his bullshit. when he blows up, shouts, you need to be able to stand your ground, and sometimes shout right back. it surprises him being challenged, excites him, even. go ahead baby, put him in his place. 

like with michael, constantly shouting and losing your temper at bo wouldn’t be the best idea. it wouldn’t result in your death, just a constant, toxic cycle of fighting and making up. it’s not fun, nor is it worth the exhaustion. you have to be able to know when to fight fire with fire, and when to back down and let bo do his thing. 

bo, to be totally honest, isn’t the kindest guy. he puts on a front for the tourists, sure, but that’s just that – a facade. to be with bo sinclair, you have to have tough skin. he’ll throw more than one insensitive comment your way, about your hair that day, your complexion, hell your weight, even if it’s not intentional. he’s never had to hold his tongue before, why would he now? you’ve gotta stand up for yourself, or else the comments will keep coming, and probably worsen over time. 

all of the sinclair brothers have been through a lot, and it’s affected them in different ways. but for all of them, bo especially, empathy will go a long, long way. take into consideration why he lashes out the way he does and be able to understand why. you don’t have to excuse his actions, just be able to tolerate them, and of course — stand up for yourself. 

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

with billy and stu, you’ve gotta be able to take a joke. a lot of jokes, at that. at your expense, the expense of others, billy and stu have absolutely NO filter and that won’t change when you’re around. be happy it doesn’t! it means they trust you. billy is meaner than stu by a longshot, so be prepared for them to take shots at you. to get them to stop, or at the very least let up a little, go at them right back! joke back or tell them to fuck off, either works. just avoid the topic of mommy issues unless you want a knife to your neck in a not fun way. 

you don’t need something super special to make them interested in you — just be you. do your own thing, mind your own business, be content with yourself. that kind of casual confidence is enthralling, and if one of them picks up on it, trust me, the other will know shortly after. 

gotta be okay with a little kick-back every once in a while — stu likes to party and billy is just fine tagging along, so that means you have to be too! stick to one of them the whole party if you need, though i don’t suggest it as it can very well lead to semi-public sex. unless, sweet thing, that’s exactly what you’re looking for — then be my guest!

stu is handsy. incredibly so. he needs to touch you often, so you’ve gotta be okay with physical contact frequently. he can’t help it! you’re so precious and touchable it makes his heart melt (and his cock hard). if you say no one too many times he’ll tattle on you to billy, which nobody wants — least of all you. billy is fiercely protective of both of you, and stu knows how spoiled he is. he will surely use that to his advantage, even if it’s to your detriment. 

billy often takes the lead when it comes to the three of you, and stu gives up control willingly, eagerly even. you don’t have to be as excited about it as stu is, but it’s best to hand control over day to day decisions to billy. he gets a little bitchy if you don’t, and no one wants a bitchy billy. just whisper to him that he knows best, that’s he’s so strong and capable…and then maybe you can slip a little suggestion in, and he’ll take it. since you’ve been so good…so yes, they’re both very susceptible to seduction.

billy and stu just want you to be you. if you can accept them at their ugliest, most carnal, real selves, they will gladly accept you.

xoxo, babe 💋ྀིྀི

[iamnmbr3]

I find it incredibly creepy how Dumbledore views Riddle as being this sort of inherently seductive 'femme fatale' type. In book 6 he implies that Tom used his looks to endear himself to his teachers when he started school and hide his supposedly inherently evil and corrupt nature.

Like. Albus. DUDE. Tom was ELEVEN. Why would you assume that teachers would be swayed by or even paying attention to the attractiveness of an eleven year old?! WTAF?

And then he portrays the Hepzibah Smith memory as another example of Tom using his seductive charms for evil. But although he does bring her flowers he doesn't do anything else to encourage her and in fact seems uncomfortable and determined to keep the conversation focused on work.

She is actually the one who is being creepy here given the power differential between them. I mean, yes, Tom is putting up with her because it suits his designs for the moment and could and would kill her in a second if provoked. But even though we know that she certainly doesn't. As far as she knows she's creeping on this young store clerk without wealth or connections whose job depends on keeping her happy.

And certainly while she enjoys his looks and his attention she also seems quite happy with the persona he puts on where he addresses her in a highly respectful manner, not as an equal. She's certainly not complaining about how he calls her Miss Hepzibah or asking him to drop the honorific. She likes that. She likes that he addresses her not much differently than how her House Elf does. She likes his whole "I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told" thing. And as far as she knows he is just that, with no particular special power or talent other than his good looks which she evidently appreciates. This is not him leading on and taking advantage of an innocent sweet old lady.

And yes he brings her flowers, presumably to keep her happy, but other than that he tries to keep the conversation professional and steer the discussion towards the purpose of his visit. He doesn't say anything overtly flirtatious or even try to prolong their discussion by asking to see some of her other things.

She brings that up on her own. Nor is there any indication that he is the one that decided to move their relationship in this direction. It seems more like she saw a young and good looking man, apparently far below her in terms of station and magical power, and made her move. He probably isn't the first.

The way she casually touches him is just so creepy to me. And though he tolerates it, he did nothing to encourage or solicit it. Riddle is someone who is in general quite averse to touch. We only see him voluntarily touch one person in 7 books and that's when he touches Harry, just for a second in book 4, just to show that he can. I don't think he enjoys this kind of attention. He was probably glad to kill her for more than just the purpose of getting the cup and the locket.

And yet none of her creepiness is acknowledged. Instead, Dumbledore draws our attention to how Riddle cruelly seduced and murdered a nice old lady whose affections he sought and then betrayed:

[burb-ie]

Uhm hi your au is cool and I love the Sentinel and TFP Optimus potential so have this thank you have a good day:

“I don’t understand…”

“You don’t have to do so immediately, it’s not easy to have everything you thought you once knew uprooted.”

“No that’s not- I-“ Sentinel hissed, stepping back from the larger mech. He wants to scream, to shout, to deny everything but he knows that it won’t work on this Optimus. How can he be so different than the bridge repair bot he knew? How can he, a warframe no less be so endlessly patient and kind and why does he found himself feeling so safe around him?! The safest he had ever felt no less! It made no sense, it shouldn’t make sense at all.

“I wanted to deny this.” The blue prime said, his voice box wobbly with an emotion he can’t safely identify. “I want to not understand this but if I do, I would feel like I’m going insane and I know that you wouldn’t stop being so patient regardless.”

The elite guard had searched for any deceit, any form of trickery that would cause him to distrust this warframe but there was nothing. His patience, his understanding, his kindness; it was just who this Optimus was. And everything just shattered when Sentinel came to that horrible realisation.

He sees this Optimus extend his arm out and Sentinel wants to slap it away, to be afraid and yet.. He found himself reaching out to hold his servo, squeezing it tightly. Optimus- Orion as he had called himself to differentiate between him and the repair bot Optimus made no move to pull him in. Sentinel knew that it was because that was who he is and it still terrifies him.

“I want to hate you..” He admits, burying the spike of guilt deep down from his spark. “I wanted to hate you so much but I just- can’t. Why are you so kind? You kept glaring at me when we first met and now you’re- you’ve just come in and made me question everything I thought I knew!…”

“That was due to previous experiences on my part from a mech who shares your designation.” Orion explains sincerely. “Because of that, I initially was wary of you and it clouded my judgement, for that I apologise. But as I learned more about this world, the Cybertron you live in and the system that you grew up with, I’ve began to view things with a fresh look, and that includes you.”

Sentinel chooses not to pry deeper into what Orion said, partly due to being emotionally unstable as he is and partly in fear of what he would learn if he asked. All he could do is stare down at the ground as words kept tumbling out from deep in his processor and spark. “E-everything I thought I knew is just.. I don’t want to even doubt it, the system has been everything to me.. all it’s rules… But then you- you just crash down here, disproving everything I thought I knew and now—!”

Sentinel looks up to shout at the larger bot but seeing his kind optics and sad smile made all the fury die out from his voice box. He released his servo as though it was hot metal and curls up on the ground, shaking. Internally he berates himself for showing such a pathetic display considering his position but Orion said nothing or voice any judgements. He could feel the other mech sit down beside him, close enough to reach out if needed and far enough to not step into his personal space.

“As easier as it would be, the world is not so clear cut.” Orion said, his voice holding a wisdom only gained through many stellar cycles. It held the same type of heaviness Ultra Magnus have but it doesn’t feel as old or historic as him. “Sometimes evil comes from good intentions, sometimes what seems good ends up being malicious and harmful. This system you grew up in and had been drilled into you for so long, is one of the latter. I’m so sorry.”

Despite everything, Sentinel finds himself nodding numbly to his words. He wanted to forget all this ever happened, return back to the safe structure of following protocols and living as he had before meeting Orion but too many things have been thrown into question, rules that once seem like facts have now been broken, doubt has been cast in and can never be uprooted thanks to Orion and now—

“I don’t want to think about this anymore…” Sentinel admits, exhaustion finally seeping into his processor, having enough of everything. He found himself with his walls taken down without his say, something he was still very much horrified of it. Still, in spite of that, he lets Orion gently take him into a sideways embrace. It felt warm, comforting and when all the fear and conflict were shoved away due mental fatigue, Sentinel briefly wondered when was the last time he felt so safe and allowed himself to be this open. At the very least, when everything has been flipped over and shattered, Orion remained consistent and that’s something he’s thankful about, even if he doesn’t realise it at this point in time.

As Sentinel slowly falls into recharge, Orion can’t help but gently carry the mech in his arms, shielding him from any potential onlookers. Sentinel is a proud autobot who doesn’t like showing weakness and has made many foolish choices in the past but underneath it all was a young mech, traumatised, insecure and afraid. Yet Orion can’t help but be proud of him for at least not throwing everything he realised away and opening up to how it troubles him. It spoke of his true character and the trust he had in him, trust that Orion swore to never misuse. It will be difficult for Sentinel from here on out, there is a long road ahead full of turns and obstacles and right now, he’s trapped in a storm of confusion and conflict, misdirection and denial. But he will be there to guide him and be a pillar of support when needed. He won’t let him or anyone else walk the path alone.

Okay i know i said i will be making a comic for this then answer it, but ive been seeing posts about asks getting deleted from people's inboxes and i would HATE for this to get lost so imma post it

The comic is still very much in play,I just wabt to preserve this for when its done

So anon i just wanna say THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOUVE NO CLUE AAAAAAAA I just wanna let you know that I jumped around my room when I received this ask for thw first time like actually

Wonderful

You devoured my friend

[kiame-sama]

Just wanted to say how much I mad LOVING the monster AU so far. Your writing is so good and I adore the world building. Hadn’t seen your stuff since chapter 9 (thought you may be taking a break or something) then I see chapter 17 pop up on my dash?! Scrolled through all your stuff and caught up :)

I wanted to ask how your AU would react to the MC getting into a magical accident and becoming a child/toddler. We’ve gotten some peaks into how the boys would handle their own children, but how would they handle a human child?

Hope you’re having a great day!

Warnings; hijinx, magical mishap, parental yanderes go into Maximum overdrive, various mentions of kidnapping, confused yanderes, begrudging parental behavior, several delulu yanderes,

~~~~~~~~

- Crowley has a veritable collection of Human artifacts and is thrilled to have the chance to try out all of the Human things meant for infants. Just look how cute his precious little chick is! He doesn't really get the whole 'parent to a human' thing easily, but he is going to try or die trying.

- Lilia is conflicted. He wants to have infants with his Human, not raise them from infancy! He has raised at least one Human child from infancy, so he knows can. Lilia is able to differentiate between how he feels for the Human as an adult and how he feels for the Human as an infant. He just sees it as practice for when he actually gets to have hybrid young with the Human. Still, he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little odd about the situation.

- Papa Hades is immediately on campus the moment he hears the Human is now an infant. He has raised many of his own descendants, he can raise the Human as well. He understands that it is temporary, but that doesn't mean he isn't melting over the squirming infant Human. Truly someone who is happy to parent and thrilled to be the parent figure for the Human.

- Divus is fully committed to kidnapping the Human and intends to be absconding away to the nearest body of water. He will be entering his full seal form and taking the Human out onto the water if he manages to steal the Human away. His intention behind doing this is to behave in a way similar to an otter, holding the Human-turned-infant on his stomach and guarding them from any other possible threat. He feels most comfortable taking care of the Human in his seal form because he is faster and stronger in his seal form. Any indication that the Human infant is uncomfortable will result in a very stressed Divus. If he does not succeed in his attempts to steal the Human, he will be working on a reversal potion/spell.

- Malleus is following Lilia around while Lilia cradles the Human. Malleus has seen infant Silver before, and even some Fae infants, but he has not seen a Human infant before. He is surprised at how genuinely cute the little Human is and he can only imagine how his own young will look when he gets to finally have them with his Human, once his Human is their normal selves again, of course.

- Rook has woven a web cradle to help carry the Human and is desperate to be of use in any way. He is a hunter that is not so well versed with parenting, but he will absolutely rise to the challenge if it is presented to him.

- Vil is not sure what to really do with an infant, he is a movie star, not a nanny. He will be turning rather broody and mother-hen-ish over the Human-turned-infant. His Harpy instincts demands he keep the Human warm however possible and he will be screeching at anyone who gets too close to the Human. His screech will be making the Human begin to tear-up and cry which will only further anger Vil at whoever dare intrude.

- Leona doesn't like kids, he never has. ... He will make an exception for the Human-turned-infant and the now parentless-cub Grim. It is a role of the dominant male lion to look after the cubs and tolerate them while the child-rearing lionesses hunt. He will complain the entire time, but he will actually be very good at child-rearing because he was expected to take care of Cheka when the cub was first born as Falena and his wife would occasionally need breaks from the needy cub.

- Trey is an old pro at taking care of centaur-infants, but a Human-turned-infant? That's new to him. He won't really understand that the Human needs their head supported as an infant, since centaur infants don't require that same support for their neck. He won't really need to worry about this though, there is very little chance he is going to get to hold the Human, especially with much more experienced caretakers on hand.

- Riddle wants desperately to hold the little Human, curious to see the small creature and may even tear up, so moved with emotion and the idea that this is an innocent creature, so cute and delicate. He will not get to hold the Human. Not only are the staff fighting over who gets to be caretaker of the cute and soft Human, but Lilia, Papa Hades, and the other Housewardens are involved as well.

- Idia has no idea how to take care of an infant and will be passing the Human right off to Papa Hades. He is interested in the process of caretaking- especially when he thinks about raising his own young with the Human once they are back to normal- but he is no where near confident enough to actually try to take care of the Human-turned-infant.

- Azul is cooing and immediately offers his services as a many-limbed nanny. This is one of the rare times Azul breaks character from the suave-businessman to actually be quite gentle and domestic. He talks extensively to the Human-turned infant and will even hold them while his tentacles hit everyone else away. It is his turn with the Human, he is fighting for his right to hold them. He spent the entire time leading up to holding them watching those with more experience so he doesn't risk doing anything wrong or hurting the sweet little Human. He won't even bother with Floyd's teasing over his motherly behavior.

- Jamil is immediately taking over parental duties from Kalim because Kalim would have literally zero clue how to actually be a responsible caretaker. He lifts the Human-turned-infant out of Kalim's arms with his tail the moment Kalim acts like is is going to take the little Human on the flying-carpet. He spends the next few hours with Kalim in coil-jail and holding the sleeping Human, gently rocking them and humming a soft lullaby as he has an unusual adeptness in being paternal. Kalim is whining loudly about not being able to take the Human on the carpet-ride, Jamil is covering Kalim's mouth with his tail to not disturb the sleeping Human-turned-infant.

- Ortho is hovering around Papa Hades and asking every question under the sun about infant Humans. Papa Hades fields the questions with masterful skill all while caring for the soft little infant.

- Jack is going full guard-dog mode and will be guarding whoever is caring for the Human-turned-infant, snarling at anyone who gets too close to the caretaker and infant. He will be on high alert and he will be patrolling.

- Silver and Sebek will be joining Jack in the guard duty, protecting the Human and the one caring for the Human- especially in the case of Lilia- with true ferocity. They actually mesh well with Jack and take up rotating their guard to make sure there is not a single moment the Human-turned-infant is unguarded.

- Poachers- especially those who are Fae that want a Human to raise- will be vicious about getting that small Human, their wishes of parenting a Human being figuratively dangled in front of them and teasing them with the exact thing they so desperately want.

[monalisahyperdrive]

Primarchs and Christmas Classics - christmas songs and festive primarch/legion headcanons.

The final week of the winter semester has run me over so I'm blasting Christmas music to cope & inspire fuzzy warm feelings. This is once again entirely subjective and largely based on my (British, somewhat Catholic) own Christmas experiences. All good fun while I avoid working on these essays. I struggled with some of these so they might be a little off. ⇒ divider by @/cafekitsune

Alpharius & Omegon / Alpha Legion

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - The Jackson 5. The most confusing Christmas possible. Don't worry, Alpharius will be home for Christmas! Several dozen of him. You get the distinct feeling that the Alpharius who sat and laughed while playing charades earlier (you lost, badly) is actually not any of the Alphariuses sat at the table for Christmas dinner... but you just can't prove it. Is Omegon there? Of course he is. Which one is he? Good question.

Angron / World Eaters

Lonely This Christmas - Mud. Attempts a quiet peaceful Christmas, fails miserably every year. His sons love him very much, in their own way. He just sort of disappears into his home over the festive period. They come find him anyway. Small groups, well spaced out. They send one or two marines with gifts from a dozen or so every few hours. They don't get invited in, he greets them at the door, often gritting his teeth from the pain. He gets his rest, but he'll never be truly lonely on Christmas. Not anymore.

Corvus Corax / Raven Guard

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town - The Jackson 5. The Raven Guard just sort of... show up to Christmas. Was there even a knock at the door? Well, they're here now. You think. You were sure you just saw Corvus but you've lost him again. The whole thing is a relatively private affair, no real coming and going... as far as you can tell. The Raven Guard present seem to dissipate some time between late afternoon on Christmas Day and the morning of Boxing day. The presents are all freakishly accurate to what was wished for. Don't worry about it.

Ferrus Manus / Iron Hands

Christmas Time (Don't Let the Bells End) - The Darkness. (subject to change) Christmas with Ferrus and the Iron Hands is a rather rudimentary affair. 'For morale', they say. Admittance of actual celebration would be an admittance of weakness. Christmas dinner is served in a mess hall, and largely differentiates itself from the typical nutrient paste with... something that might be mashed potato and the slice of what seems to be the idea of turkey... if turkey was suspiciously nutrient dense and stiff. Presents are largely ignored, as are any decorations beyond the occasional string of lights. Time off is necessary in order to maintain efficiency. They're watching Die Hard for morale. Ferrus is watching along with them... for morale. Shut up.

Fulgrim / Emperor's Children

All I Want for Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey. Of course it's Mariah. The only way it wouldn't be Mariah is if it was Jingle Bell Rock, Mean Girls style. Yes, with the outfit. The Christmas decorations have gone up early and it all matches, right down to the last detail. Think those gorgeous monochrome Christmas trees you see on Pinterest. The table all set for Christmas dinner is both the most meticulously and yet effortlessly breathtaking you've ever seen. If anyone's got festive charger plates, it's the Third. There's singing, there's dancing. There's an elaborate charcuterie board for snacking on on Christmas Eve. Good luck going five minutes without your wine/champagne/juice glass refilling while you're not looking. Matching outfits for the Christmas cards but in an incredible chic way. Probably the classic matching pyjamas approach. Perfection is a must, and Christmas is no excuse.

Horus Lupercal / Luna Wolves & Sons of Horus

Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! - Dean Martin. Cue shit eating grin, singing along, grabbing Lady Lupercal and- oh is that mistletoe up there? He hadn't even noticed. Well since you're already there... might as well? 30k Luna Wolves Horus is leaning full tilt into the Hallmark movie Christmases. The Mournival are even here for Christmas dinner and look they brought presents - isn't that cute? Post Heresy Horus (copium) is still just as meticulous with Christmas but it's a little more... off the rails. Everything is perfect, come sit down for Christmas dinner! Don't worry, he'll do the talking. All of it.

Jaghatai Khan / White Scars

Driving Home for Christmas - Chris Rea. One of the biggest and warmest Christmases, up there with the Salamanders and the Space Wolves. Everyone - and I mean absolutely everyone - is home for Christmas. Don't know anyone's names? Doesn't matter. The driveway is absolutely packed. They're parked out front all down the street, too. The living room barely fits everybody. There's not even nearly enough space for everyone to sit. It's cozy.

Konrad Curze / Night Lords

Wonderful Christmastime - Paul McCartney. Vague lyrics, nonspecific, bang on. It sure is a wonderful Christmastime, just... not what you might be thinking of. Merry Christmas from Nostramo. Please don't call. Sevatar is there. Christmas dinner is... meat, for sure. The fact there's so many Night Lords in the same place not snapping at eachother like a pack of unruly dogs is actually pretty impressive. Don't ask what the wrapping paper is made of. The first rule of Night Lord Christmas...

Leman Russ / Space Wolves

Merry Xmas Everybody - Slade. Primarily inspired by my drunken male relatives stopping everything to sing along and start dancing around the living room. Of course a Space Wolves Christmas would be boozy, it's a celebration isn't it? Feasting and drinking and laughing is the name of the game. All the presents are surprisingly thoughtful. Leman awkwardly hovers in the back while some of the presents are opened and suspiciously vanishes off into the next room with some of the wrapping paper and reemerges with presents wrapped in what he'd scavenged. After that is totally the type to sit by the youngest on the couch and be overly eager to offer his knife for them to use to get into their presents easier. Asleep the second he gets back to the couch post Christmas dinner.

Lion El'Jonson / Dark Angels

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Darlene Love. A man who frankly needs to sit down over the holidays but physically cannot do it. Christmas? Stupid meaningless holiday. You're staying over though right? People are coming for dinner though right? No he's not going to decorate the tree. He's going to stare at you doing it though, and then he'll complain when he has to get up to help you place the star on the top. Acts entirely unbothered by Dark Angels showing up. Would be pacing and staring out the window all day if they didn't.

Lorgar Aurelian / Word Bearers

Mary's Boy Child / Oh My Lord - Boney M. Yeah, you're going to church for the Christmas service. But so is everyone else! And I mean, everyone else. Midnight Mass, Carol service, the whole shebang. Lorgar, however, is absolutely overjoyed! He has several Nativity sets he brings out every year. There's an angel for the top of the tree. He delights in listening to the carollers that come to the door. Has the whole family over for the holiday. Yes, including Kor Phaeron. There's no avoiding it. Picks out a new special ornament each year. Decorating the tree is a family activity that takes hours due to all the reminiscing over all the different ornaments that have been collected over the years and the story that has to be retold after they get carefully unwrapped before they can be hung on the tree. It's sweet, it just takes a while to get done.

Magnus (the Red) / Thousand Sons

I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday - Wizzard. Ah, the bane of my existence at school around Christmastime growing up. The Christmas quiz. If you don't think the Thousand Sons are having the MOST intense Christmas Quiz fighting tooth and nail (intellectually) for those points every year, you may be kidding yourself. Everyone knows exactly who won the year before. And the year before. And the year before that. Need I go on? Magnus himself writes and reads the questions, and it's Magnus who decides whether an answer gets a point or not. Christmas boardgames include Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, and so on. Scrabble gets heated. The dictionary gets brought out. And a second if the first isn't convincing enough. Every year it's declared to be banned from Christmas. Every year it gets brought out again.

Mortarion / Death Guard

Do They Know It's Christmas? - Band Aid Before Nurgle there is no way in hell Mortarion celebrated. After being taken under Grandfather's metaphorical wing? Oh absolutely. There is nothing Nurgle would delight in more than getting the whole family together. Eat, drink, and be merry! Don't... don't worry about the food, sweetness. Even Typhus has come for dinner, isn't that sweet? Poor tired Mortarion. Best keep him looked after. Not to worry, Grandfather has it all under control!

Perturabo / Iron Warriors

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas - Perry Como, The Fontane Sisters. It's a stupid holiday. What? Of course he's celebrating this year, are you mad? Didn't seem excited for the festive season? Oh he'll show you excited. The lawn, the house, everything is absolutely plastered in decorations. Is this enough Christmas lights? No. No it's not. Hang them on that tree, too. Absolutely has the light up sleigh and reindeer on the roof with the Santa decoration climbing the chimney. Absolute chefzilla in the kitchen cooking Christmas dinner. Best turkey you've ever eaten. Don't worry about the way he'd been fiddling with the oven for the last couple days. In fact, don't even step into the kitchen. He's going to feed his stupid sons who he hates. Spends the rest of the day sat on the couch doing a jigsaw on the coffee table. Don't talk to him, just let him have this.

Roboute Guilliman / Ultramarines

Christmas Wrapping - The Waitresses. Respectfully, I don't think Guilliman - especially 40k Guilliman - would have the energy or time to be particularly festive. Any time off would be spent napping in an armchair in the corner dad style. Do NOT let this man take on any of the Christmas dinner cooking stress, but let him cut the turkey so he can still feel important and valued. He deserves a nice sit down in front of the tv and a glass of Baileys. His sons will handle the rest, and they'll do a damn good job of it, too! Seasons Greetings from Macragge, here is your festive email with an attached picture of Guilliman asleep on the couch in his sweater.

Rogal Dorn / Imperial Fists

Baby It's Cold Outside - Idina Menzel, Michael Bublé. No seriously, baby, it's cold outside, this is Inwit. Dorn's house is the safest possible place to spend Christmas anyway, fortified beyond belief. The Fists show up for Christmas. Sort of. Mostly they come and stand around awkwardly. The most active things get is when Jenga gets brought back out its box - winning is of course a point of pride. Gift favourites are of course, various iterations of building blocks.

Sanguinius / Blood Angels

A Spaceman Came Travelling - Chris de Burgh. Slightly more niche but the one that makes me think of Sanguinius the most. Christmas with the Blood Angels isn't the warmest fuzziest thing around. There's a difference between being revered and truly beloved and Sanguinius knows it like the back of his hand. It's comfortable, it's quiet. Dante is there. The Blood Angels all show up bearing presents on Christmas day. They fawn over him. He speaks to each and every one of them with a smile on his face. Eventually the knocks stop coming and the doorbell stops ringing, and he can collapse onto the couch and relax. He spends the season with his nearest and dearest. He takes a walk after Christmas dinner. He gives up Christmas day to being humble, and he lets himself be selfish on Boxing Day, with several glasses of... something red and some truly terrible Christmas movies.

Vulkan / Salamanders

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year - Andy Williams. And he damn well means it! Christmas with the Salamanders is incredible. Got nowhere to go for the holidays? Now you do. Decorating starts the second December does. The actual event starts bright and early Christmas Eve morning. Vulkan truly comes alive during the holiday - so many loved ones around! Christmas Eve is all movies and food and board games and jokes and stories by the fire. People even sleep over into Boxing Day. He greets each and every one of the people who'd attended personally, waving them off at the door with a big grin on his face. All his sons have Christmas sweaters that match his own. Expect some incredible Christmas cards in the mail with a whole host of posing Salamanders on the front. Oh well since you're all here already... you might as well stay for the New Year? Outstaying your welcome? Don't be silly.

[pedge-page]

Crash

Sequel to Cravings

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie is reeling from the night you two had sex and can no longer differentiate between his addictions.

Notes: Great y’all, now he's got feelings . Hope you're proud. Anyway, thank you all for the overwhelmingly positive feedback from Cravings: alas, here’s part 2! There will be a part 3 finale following after this (because it was getting too long and I like making you all suffer). Thank you all again for the love and reading so far!

Warnings: Oral (m and f receiving), F and M masturbation, dry humping, drunk reader, slight dub con drunk sexual activities, references to sex, mentions of drug usage,  language, Frankie is kinda mean in this one :( , poor communication King and Queen

18+ONLY

- - - -

Frankie feels like a stranger who's overstayed his welcome in his own home. When he knew you were deep asleep, he crawled out of bed and sat on the couch for what felt like a simultaneous eternity and quantum leap of time, wrestling in his mind over what just happened.

He knows you'll be waking up soon, and the thought of seeing you now makes him feel so anxious. In direct contract to how he's felt seeing you every morning since you moved in. How much of last night stuck with you? You were tipsy, but not as fucked up drunk as he was. Did he come on to you too strong? Misread your signs? Did he force it on you? Would you regret it?

And even if you wanted it, was it just all for him? Was this just another "helping Frankie get over his coke problem"?

He can't just go back to seeing you as a substitute for his "problems". His hands shook at his side, leg bouncing. You were slowly transitioning from being the solution to his problems to becoming the reason for his new problems. He's never been afraid about how to act around you before, and that even includes trying to touch and kiss you in front of some guy you were flirting with at the bar.

God, what a shitty friend he is. You should have had the chance to go home with that guy, not have to deal with your coke addicted friend so he hog your cunt all night for himself.

Then again, why would you want to go home with that fucker anyway? Like he would know your body as intimately as Frankie does. As if he could even come close to bringing to the edge black out pleasure and back over and over all night. Catfish doesn’t pride himself on much except two things: flying a chopper under any condition, and making you cream on his tongue.

He feels even more guilty as his cock hardens in his pants, the memories of your sweet moans and perfection flood his mind. How he'd wanted it for so long and was so sure he was dreaming. But he could never mistaken: the hot tenderness of your sweaty skin, hair sprawled over his pillow, your nails sifting through his curls and scratching along his shoulders, the way your legs shook around his head, the taste of your over flowing juices needing him more than before, the sounds like honey pouring from your lips, the insatiably tight, wet grip of your pussy swallowing around him like a perfect fit, and the way you wrapped yourself around him like you never wanted to let go.

He wants you. Again. And again, and again. So much that he doesn’t think he can trust himself around you anymore.

-

You wake to a cold bed. It takes you a moment to orient yourself, recognizing the room is not your own.

You sigh relief when you hear Frankie shuffling in the kitchen, the smell of burning toast filling the air. You quickly run to the bathroom to freshen up, wiping your messy eyes. And surprised to find the once mess between your legs from last night had already been cleaned, probably while you had slept.

You can't help but feel like a shitty friend, hogging his bed, having him clean up after you when he was the drunk one who needed caring to.

You bounce into the living space, announcing your presence with an exaggerated yawn.

You rub his broad shoulders over his shirt, feeling him tense at your sudden touch. Slowly, your hands snakes down the chiseled lines of his back, wrapping around his waist. You felt his strong forearms flex the spatula in his hand.

He turned to you, his eyes warm but clearly sleep deprived. His breath is short when looking at you, eyes dilated. He can't stop your hands drifting south and feeling the clear tent in his pants that has been there all morning. He closes his eyes and groans as you palm his erect cock.

"Why didn't you wake me?" You asked, turning off the stove as you stare up at him.

Frankie swallows the lump in his throat. He brushes your hands off his crotch and holds them in his. “I’m okay. Besides, you needed your rest." He leans down to kiss your cheek, lacking his usual affection despite the gesture before coldly turning back to his cooking.

You pull away and sit down at the table, just a moment before he's plating your breakfast.

Frankie cooked you breakfast?

He brushes your hair out of your eyes before leading himself down the hall and into his room without another word.

Sheets, pillow cases, clothes, all of it gets balled up and tossed in the wash. He glances at you down the ball, your feet dangling over the island stool as you catch up on your news feed.

You couldn’t be any more oblivious to how much his heart is shattering—just from doing absolutely nothing.

-

He's annoyed at how well you carry about your business from then on. So much so that he's trying so hard avoiding using you as much. Yes he WANTS to fuck you again, wants to ravish your cunt every waking minute of the day like before, and then fuck you until you're pleading him to stop, tell you how good you look taking him, and how you were clearly made for him. But how much of it did you want for yourself?

After the first night, he’s been doing everything in his power avoiding sex with you because it’s dangerous. Because he can't control what happens next. Can't keep it platonic, and pretend he’s ok with it just staying sex. He almost lost it and confessed everything the first time—and what would happen when you didn't want that from him? If you didn't feel the same?

You'd leave him.

So of course you make it that much harder for him to resist you everyday since.

Did you realize how sexy you looked wearing nothing but panties, bending over your bed with the fan on after a shower to cool off? you left your door open, casually waving to him, breasts smushed between your chest and the soft blanket on your bed. Did you know he swells with pride when can he still see the obvious markings of his fingerprints bruised on to your hips, your thighs, your stomach, after spending so much time holding your shaking body against his mouth? The way your nipples pierce through his t-shirts that you manage to dig out of his closet, and how they do nothing but aide the memory of you underneath him, begging for him to use you?

Every time he sees you, he gets hard. And he immediately tries to ignore you, walks away, goes to do anything other than giving in to the desire of pushing you down, spreading your legs and taking his frustration out on the one who's causing it all now.

He can tell you're starting to catch on. You notice his curt attitude, the way his eyes avoid you when you’re in the same space.

You two were sitting on the couch watching tv as always, but he was uninterested, leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed almost in annoyance. You had interpreted it as a sign of him holding back his urges. Sliding down the couch, you glide your hand across his chest, starting to undo your buttoned night gown. when he opened his eyes and saw the first sliver of your breasts opening for him he stood abruptly, throwing you off. He only mumbles 'goodnight' and headed straight to his door.

It's been a few days since the last time he ate you out, last time he really cared to touch you. And you should be glad, really. He's getting so much better. Clearly craving you less. That was the whole fucking point of all this.

But FUCK if you aren't needy as of lates. You can feel the hot flush of embarrassment as you drag yourself to your room. Wet and bothered and for the first time in months, left unsatisfied to your own devices without Frankie's tender and a bit selfish care. You don't remember the last you needed to masturbate, let alone wanted to.

It shouldn't be embarrassing. And yet as you dip your fingers down your panties and through your slick folds, you feel wrong. Empty. Like something isn't there thats supposed to be. The idea that you're so used to him getting you off whether you asked for it or not that you're now incapable of doing it yourself is—troubling.

You huff in frustration and try your best to work yourself to a minimal slickness, remembering all the times Frankie has brought you over the edge again and again. But thinking about him only makes you slightly perturbed by the fact that he's right down the hall and could be doing this himself, if he only needed you as badly like he used to.

You don't notice your friend is right outside your closed door, ear pressed against the wood as he listens to your hushed sighs. His cock is hard in his hand, pumping it with long strokes to your beautiful yet strained moans. He wants to be buried between your legs. Wants his tongue to lap at your folds, fingers craned deep in that tight hot wet heat thats been calling his name all night. Make you flinch away when the stimulation becomes too much, because he knows you'll still take it like his good girl until he decides to stop. He knows all the right places to push, nothing secret between the two of you. In fact, in the amount of time thats passed with your fumbling attempts to get off and his pulsing dick in his hand, he could have made you cum twice now.

His body has been on overdrive trying not to take you again. Trying to be respectful for a change. Everything hurts, even his cock, which no matter how much he tugs on it, it's nowhere near close to giving him that sweet release. He's feral, nails digging in his thighs with the need to feel you against him again. Needs to just fuck, let it out, and then he can deal with his brain, his guilt, afterwards.

And when he hears you softly moan his name, he can't stop himself from barging down your door, wild eyed, dick slapping against his abdomen as he crawled over top of you and captured your lips.

Stop, stop stop, he's telling himself. But with the way you're wrappings your arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss, delicate hands cupping his aching cock, all his needs he's been denying for days have overtaken his movements. 

You're so bad for him. An unavoidable addiction.

Worse than candy, worse than coffee, worse than cocaine.

He flips you on your stomach, his hand engulfing the entirety of your lower back, pinning you there as his elbows spread your knees. He lies between your thighs, ass up in front of his face, and spreads your soaked folds, enamored with your clit twitching for him. Your little hiccup goes quiet when he presses his face into your mound, nose dragging along the line as his jaw works you open, fingers pulling your cheeks apart so he can suffocate himself properly.

His fingers dig into your waist, and he's rocking your body back and forth, dragging so deliciously against the sheets below you. His tongue is plunging in and out of your hole, and you realize he's fucking you on his tongue. You hum in relief, rocking with his movements, earning you stinging slaps on your ass cheeks. He kisses them better before biting your folds and gorging himself on your slit again, his appetite voracious after denying himself of your sweetness all week.

He ignores that bubble of guilt wedged deep in his stomach as he let's instinct bring him the relief he desperately needed, your squelching cunt and satisfied sighs tampering his cravings for you once again.

He watches you shake with your orgasm, encouraging him to keep taking. You babble: "Thats it, baby" "so hungry today aren’t you?" "Use it the way you like" and he closed his eyes, wishing he could block out the clear direction of how you saw this transaction. You were never this vocal before, but now when he's tossing and turning all night with his thoughts about wanting you, here you are telling him plainly. Almost as if you're reminding him the truth, discrediting his hopes for a different outcome.

He sits upright and slaps his cock between your ass cheeks, grinding down on you so you're still pressed flat on your bed. God, he wants to do it again. Spread your folds and split you in half with his fat cock. Make you weep and pass out, and then fuck you again. "Gorgeous fucking ass, mi hermosa. So pretty under me," He grunts as he slicks his member up with your arousal, just barely holding on the last bit of sanity he has by refusing to enter you. You whine in protest, but he has both hands on your lower spine, crushing your hips into the mattress as he uses your ass. "So good spoilin' me. Always there for me." He grits his teeth, rutting his cock against you, occasionally sliding back down to your folds to lather himself up. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" He growls as he spills his cum over your lower back, breath catching in his throat.

The guilt creeps back in to his clear mind, and he's angry at himself again.

He can't stop himself.

"Frankie, why didnt—“

Before you could finish, he was storming out your door and slamming it behind him.

-

He used to be so loving. Used to worship your body, warm praises about how perfect you are for him. Sometimes he'd take his time, and other times he'd be fast, but still always with warm hands, attentive to your reactions, even when he was so fucked out of his mind needing you.

But now he's rougher. More sporadic than before, even as he decreases the number of times he's engaged with you. Silent now, too. fewer loving praises, less warmth behind his touch or his eyes, and in fact, spends more time having you in positions where he doesn't have to look at your eyes. He leaves you cold afterwards every time.

He's been acting like it a lot more lately: ignores you all week, being uncharacteristically polite when you corner him but managing to ditch whenever possible. And then he caves all at once, crashing in on you and takingtakingtaking, before going back to ignoring you. It should be a good thing: that he needed you less. That his cravings were subsiding more and more that he could actually go a while before needing a hit. It really should have been like this from the start: Cold. Transactional. Indifferent.

So why did you feel so awful now?

The only reason you haven't lost all hope is that very occasionally, that sappy, wet puppy dog of a mess shows his warm side again. You were showering when you heard him slip the curtain open behind you and step in, his arm immediately wrapping around your stomach, loving kisses adorning your shoulder, neck, and up to your ear. You sigh, relaxing in to his touches. He just held you there and kissed your body. He didn't even try to touch you, although you knew you were growing a different wetness between your legs. He didn't let you touch his obvious erection either. Just peppered you in kisses, dragging his lips over your stomach, combing through your hair, up to your elbow then down in the palm of your hand. There was no rush behind hid actions. No urgency. All gentle.

All Frankie.

YOUR Frankie.

But incidentally as he brought his eyes to yours, his chest seized with coldness again, and he's suddenly leaving you and the now cold shower without a word.

You didn't know how to make it better anymore.

He was so agitated again recently, and you could tell he didn't get any sleep again. You suggested he take the day off, the two of you could spend it "however he wanted", slyly offering yourself to him to take the edge off. But when he ignored you and went to watch the football game, two beer bottles dangling between his fingers, you rolled your eyes.

So fed up with his change in attitude, you spent an hour getting ready in your room, walking down the hall in heels, your tightest shortest shorts, and a low hanging crop. It had been a month since you and Frankie first fucked: combined with his recent behavior, stress with work, and lack of action, you needed a night out, needed to get wasted. Needed to stop being the baby sitter.

You needed sex.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Out."

You grabbed your keys and left.

You hadn’t even closed your car door before opening your phone and texting Frankie that you were going out with Santi to help alleviate any worries he might have of the company you're keeping. Pope’s just as close a friend as Frankie is: he shouldn't have any problems about the fact that you’re in good hands tonight and just need some time to drink and be out.

Away from Frankie Morales just for the night.

-

It’s like you’re perfectly doing everything wrong to him.

She's out with Santi. Fucking Pope. The same Santi who told Frankie years ago you're smoking hot, and he wouldn't hesitate to jump on you if you let him. His best friend, the one who knows him better than himself, and yet here he is making a move on his girl—

But you aren’t his.

In fairness, he has been a total ass. He keeps trying to curb his desires, punch away his uncontrollable feeling about you, only caving all at once on you like a bullet train. Then the emotional brick wall of regret builds immediately after release, desperate to shut out his overwhelming feelings and the rough actions he’s taken against you. It keeps repeating. 

He vainly hopes he'll actually stop wanting someone who doesn't want him any more.

He curses himself for only having enough alcohol to get slightly tipsy. It's been a week since the two of you did anything sexual, a month since "the incident" so it's a good thing you're out.

It doesn't make him feel better.

To his annoyance, his phone buzzes next to him as Santi's contact pops up. He puts it on speaker, can hear loud giggles and music outside, barely registering his friend saying you're completely wasted and need to be taken home. He doesn't even send a reply, already throwing his jacket and cap on and walking out the front door.

-

"FISHY!"

You're leaning over Santi outside the bar when you spot Frankie walking towards you two. Your mascara smeared across your eyes like you had been wiping them all night. You're mumbling incoherently, throwing your head back in a fit of laughter. Pope is barely holding you up right, sheepishly smiling to keep your morale up.

"Hey man. I’m sorry, She lost her keys and I walked here. Otherwise I would have..."

"It's fine. Gimme her," Frankie said curtly. How Santi would ever let you drink this badly, he'd have to berate him later.

"M' Pinocchio!" You gasped as Frankie slung one of your arms over his neck and hoisted you up on one of his shoulders.

Why? Full of lies? he wonders.

“I’m gonna be swallowed by a great big FISH." You hiccuped, cackling upside down with a nice view of your besties tight ass. Frankie readjusts your body like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder and stands up, holding your thighs securely. If Santi wasn't here, he'd smack your ass to get you to shut up.

Frankie nods once at Santi and goes to turn around.

"Hey Fish? Take—take care of her. Please."

No shit.

Frankie is pushing open the apartment door as you're mumbling "fishy fishy fishy—hic!— squishy fishy."

He drops you down carefully on your bed. "Get undressed."

You giggle even more, seductively biting your lips as you pull yourself up to his body, hands roaming his abs and down to his hips. "You first."

He stared down at you, your lust ridden eyes meeting his, as you're pulling your shirt off so you're only in a push up bra. He tried avoid staring at your supple tits, the faint bite marks and bruises from his past ministrations almost completely faded by now. A fresh canvas practically begging to be marked up again...

He shakes his head. "We're not doing this. You're getting in your pj's and going to bed," he said, scolding you like a brat.

"Ppfftttttt." You ignore him, lifting his shirt and kissing his belly button, tracing down his happy trail and pausing at his belt. "At least someone here misses me."

He hasn't even noticed how hard he was in his jeans until you were rubbing your cheek against his clothed bulge, doe eyes staring up at him. He hears the soft pop of his pant's button undone, zipper slowly being dragged down by your teeth.

"When was the last time I blew you, Fishy? Let me relax you. I know you've needed this..."

His jaw clenched as he avoided your eyes.

“Know you want me,” you purred.

 Those fucking words again. If you KNEW how much more he actually wanted from you...

"He's positively aching, Fish. Shouldn't ignore a big man in need."

He doesn't stop you when you pull his cock out of his pants, having foregone the underwear in a rush to get you. He closes his eyes when your pretty nails wrap around his thick length, lips ghosting over his tip as you press an innocent kiss to his slit.

You hadn't blown him in a long while, and not often enough as you would have liked. you don't normally take charge, but he's been so distant lately that you can't help but use the alcohol in your system as a newfound confidence to forcibly get him to unwind. Your cunt throbs with need, forgetting just how indescribably big he is until felt him swelling in your mouth. It's sinister how well his dick reacts to your tongue, like you had been practicing as often on him as he had intimately gotten to know your pussy.

Your lips suction his tip into your mouth, causing him groan. His stomach flexes above your forehead. He's resisting again. Your tongue swirls around the tip as you lightly bob your head, swallowing an inch more and pulling out with a pop, teasing him slowly. You needed to get him worked up so he could let go, relax for once.

Maybe not be so cold to you for a while...

He feels your hands gently grasp his own that were down by his side, guiding them up to the back of your hair. You squeeze them in permission before returning your hands to wrap around the length of his cock that didn't fit down your throat.

You experimentally swallow around his shaft, eliciting a soft "fuck" from his breath. He collects your hair in a makeshift pony tail in his hand so that he had a full view of your face, submissively staring up at him as you gulp more of his cock into your inviting mouth.

You feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, the veins in his v-line in front of you throbbing. Other than holding your hair up, he continues to let you set the pace. His eyes are fixed on you, head slightly titled to the side, entranced by your spell, his tongue just hovering between his teeth.

You push your face a little further, nose brushing against his public hairs, the first jolt of your esophagus resisting the intrusion. y|You hold yourself there, holding your breath for a moment before sucking him again. He's breathing deeply with long, staggered huffs.

You tilt your head back up, eyelashes fluttering as he watches his shaft rest on your outstretched tongue, slowly tracing the veins on the underside of him.

He fists your hair a little tighter, struggling not to grab your face and fuck your throat raw until you choked.

You swallow around him once before letting his dick fall from your mouth with a slick plop.

You stand up, eyes challenging his dominance despite the height difference as you drag him to sit on the bed, and while his eyes are emotionless, body stiff, he doesn't try to stop you. He rests against the headboard as you crawl over his lap. You waste no time to kiss him.

He’s not accepting your tongue, just letting you work over him. What the fuck is his problem? it's never taken him this long to give in. You can tell he WANTS to kiss you back, his jaw clenching so hard he could shatter his teeth. It's never stopped him before.

Truthfully, what you didn't know was that he was tired of you today; from trusting Santi over him for fuck knows what reasons, then having you come home drunk out of your mind, trying to tempt him with more emotionless sex. It's putting him off of your antics mentally. He wanted you, but not like this. He couldn't handle the aftermath of giving in to you again, but not having you.

Sexually, his mind was losing the war over his body's needs.

If it wasn't coke, it was you. And if it wasn't you...

It can only be you.

And Jesus, just when he thought he had a grip on being able to block you out for good tonight, you somehow managed to be an irresistable siren:

"'M so wet for you," you slurred seductively against his lips.

He can't hide the growl rumbling lowly in his chest. His lips part to let out a breath he had been holding and you take the chance to engulf his mouth with the hot kiss you'd been dying to get all week. His lips quickly mold to yours as you whimper pathetically, his hands sliding down to grip your ass in his warm, rough hands. You prop yourself higher on him, cupping his face in your hands, forehead nudging his Standard Oil cap off. You can feel his hot breath panting quickly against your cheek, his resolve crumbling.

He's right there. He's so close to relaxing. Just a little push...

You pull away, his lips almost chasing after yours. "C'mon big boy, wasn't it soooo good?" You playfully bite his ear. "You've got suck a nice cock here," you whisper, fisting his dick once again with the remnants of your spit, pumping his shaft easily. "Shame if it wasn't pounding me tonight...C'mon. Let's do it again."

He finally brings his eyes directly to yours. Your pupils were blown wide, crowded with evident lust. But it was what he could see beyond your eyes that told him exactly what he feared all along:

Nothing.

He doesn't stop the words from tumbling out of his month. "Why? so you can just use me for sex?" he said matter-of-factly, his face relaxing into a mix of coldness and spite.

You stop giggling and pull away, eyes widening with the most seriousness, and hurt, he'd ever seen on you. "And how is that any different than how you've treated me for the past year?"

His jaw is slack with panick, immediately wishing he could take back what he just said. No I—shit, I didn't mean —I didn't mean it like that—“

You get off of him with a hostile sense of urgency, ignoring his hands trying to caress your elbows, to keep you on him. You dig in your back pocket and then you're throwing something hard at his chest. "No, you know what? Fuck you, Frankie." You storm off to your bedroom and lock it.

He covers his face with both hands and leans back against the sofa. Looking down at his lap after a minute, he sees the pair of keys you've had to his apartment for the past year.

What he'd give to be high right now and to forget everything.

-

You spend the entire night packing. He's right at your door first in the morning when you open it, his stomach churning with pain at the image of your eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, hangover, and tears.

You brush past him before he can even apologize, settling your belongings on the kitchen counter. As you toss your scattered items in to your tote, he watches you, fingers twirling in on themselves with anxiety.

Now, now, do it now! he's screaming in his mind.

“I—“

You interrupt him, and it's only now that he sees you're not shaking in anger—you're trembling in tears: "I'm s-sorry that I snapped at you last night. I wasn’t— in the right head. I c-came on to you. You had your reasons for doing what we've done, and last night I was just genuinely u-using you for no other reason other than self interest and I'm s-so sorry." You swallow and take a deep breath before continuing: "I gave up a lot coming here, trying to help you, letting you use me to get better. But I can't do it anymore. I wanted to help you, but then when we had sex, I didn't know if things would change, I didn’t want things to change, and when I woke up, you weren't there, and then you treated me so coldly afterwards. I don't know what I did wrong.” Your voice cracks, sniffling away the running of your nose. “And it felt awful. I just wanted to go back to the way things were. But you s-seem like you hate me now, and I—“ you pause, rubbing your eyes on your sleeve, suddenly changing tone in a polite manner, like you were address a principle and ignoring your previous breakdown. "I'm very happy you're clearly doing a lot better and don't need me anymore. Sorry, I don’t—I don't mean to cry like this.”

Frankie is frozen.

You're crying. You're crying in front of him, which wasn't a first; you've cried to him about stupid boys before. But what IS a first is that you're crying for the first time over the stupid boy right in front of you. You're crying, Because. Of. Him.

Just tell her tell her tellhertellhertellherNOW 

But as he opens his month, his words get caught in his throat, like swallowing a lump of coal and puking a ball of fire all at once. His chest aches unlike anything he'd experience before. All he can say is "I... understand."

Nononononoyoudumbfuckwhatareyoudoing!

You nod and sniffle, clearing your throat. "I'd like to just go back to being friends. Before all of this. I'll still support you, I swear. I want you to still feel like you come to me for anything else. But I need some time. To get myself in check." You calmly collect your things and make for to the door.

"Wait!" he goes to grab your arm but his hand freezes up, like touching you would give you painful blisters. You pause and look over to him as he stands a bit closer. “I—I think you should keep this." He puts your key in your hand. "In case. Something happens."

Your lip quivers with empathy, eyes softening for him. "Please. I don't... I don't want to think about..." I don't want to think about seeing you lying face down OD'd on the carpet.

"Just. Hold on to it. Just in case. I'm asking as your friend. We're still that at least. Right?" The words feel like hot iron in his mouth, a heaviness in his heart desperately trying to convince himself more than you.

He wants to hug you. but if he did, he wouldn't let you leave. The warmth of his hand draws away from you after depositing the key in your palm.

You nod, rub his shoulder affectionately yet with clear distance, and leave.

He stands there like a statue in the hall, unable to comprehend just how much quieter and colder the apartment is now than it has been in months.

- - - -

Tagging people who either requested a part two or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)

Part 3: Insatiable

Series masterlist

Taglist: @paleidiot @pedropascalsbbg @tonakings @nerdieforpedro @thewritermj @ahintofkiwistrawberry @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @sammy-4103 @survivingandenduring @millercontracting @emilyjustemily

[toniko]

brief words about impersonalization and Kim Soleum (spoilers up to 161

Kim Soleum rides such a hypocritical line between believing this is all a fictional world and the realness of this world. I really don’t blame him actually, the combination of toxic work culture and the base setting of him being transported into the world is like really numbing.

I mean the field exploration team uses masks that depict them as animals and as good of an item it is for exploration, that is one of the elements that dehumanizes them. It’s one thing for the groups to be split into the alphabet but it’s a whole different thing when you identify every employee by their group. You literally can not differentiate the employees in the logs (I mean look at that interview with Baek Saheon, this may be a bit of a bad example because I can see why anonymity would be kept here. Ah but it seems to be like that with every document? Mystery person here, mystery group here, finishing team). It’s awfully impersonal and while an interpretation of it just being useful code names is valid, in a profession with a high death rate, I doubt that’s the only reason. Oh yeah, highly expendable employees. But we can’t say we’re killing people, dare say individuals with their own entire lives and histories, so company employees sound a lot better. Everyone perpetuates it, it’s easy, team members die quickly and often, deal with it. Except not really right? Being human is to inherently care for your fellow human.

But hiring employees with looser personalities does help in that aspect. Capitalism win for the Daydream co. I guess. I have a small comment about how the Disaster Management Bureau. It does purposely hire righteous but orderly folks but it seems both Agent Bronze & Choi are affected by past member deaths.

It feels like Kim Soleum keeps trying to draw a line and it doesn’t work. He says that he will have left before [big catastrophic event] but unconsciously forms attachments super quickly. I think his time away from the griptok and wiki is really making him accept the reality of these characters. Agent Choi’s survival gives Soleum a little brain blast acceptance that character’s fates really can change. Of course, didn’t it take a shockingly long time for that? I think it’s implication that he was still using the same excuse of them all being from a fictional world to shield his mentality. Gotta do what you gotta do Soleum.

He does all in his power to keep as many people alive (because he’s an empath 🙂‍↕️, we know) but the hangman game was obviously super personal.

btw I think Soleum has a bias in how he treats “named” characters as well. This is just my personal opinion, but the relationship with Lee Jaheon felt purposely professional up until recently (say 130s or so I think, I’m just rambling out), since Soleum inner monologue tended to emphasize the elements he remembered. The reader would notice that Lee Jaheon really does care a lot but you might have to dig through a couple of lizard and defeating darkness through force comments. It feels this stereotype he has of the named characters stick a lot longer! It makes sense, in the kind of format the original records were in, they were in fact character stereotypes to fill the semi-anthology esque story structure (would it be appropriate just to say SCP foundation?). Again, this divorce from the griptok is what I think a big contributor of his reality check is.

There’s also this uh, Baek Saheon in the room that I haven’t talked about. Probably the meanest thing Soleum does in this novel is bullying this guy lol. But that’s because Kim Soleum’s interpretation of him is so overblown and far in time compared to the current guy we know. At this point, I’d pin down Baek Saheon as a character that would maybe let someone die but wouldn’t kill them himself (yet). But that’s it, Kim Soleum having read so far into his story, operates with the assumption that he’s a comically evil bad guy. But this guy, all he does with his hypnosis pen is hide away like a mouse? Sorry for being a much more horrible person, I would’ve tried stealing his items but he was doing something so pointless even Braun didn’t think to let Soleum know (now is that a whole nother thing? Braun being more suspicious leading up to his darkness arc? Yeah.)

Braun being an all powerful ghost story entity btw without Kim Soleum having to mask his identity almost completely was like the total kryptonite of Soleum’s “I care too much about everyone’s lives but I can’t do that because they are all fictional but also alive”. Soleum isn’t against making relationships but he often calls Braun his only friend. Isn’t that a bit out of touch Soleum, I think there’s a couple of people who would find a friend in you.

J3, for example, who was looking for him after he went missing! Actually, color me a conspiracist but I think it’s much less a self esteem issue but a reaction of realizing the people he’s (trying to) push away actually like and care about him. I mean he’s trying to get out of this fictional world. He doesn’t want the people of this world to care about him, so he’s shocked at the revelation that they do. So I don’t think it’s out of a dislike of himself but in many ways, he’s forced to act unlike himself because of this world. Well anyway that’s just my opinion anyway…

some final personal (personal) thoughts down here…

Kim Soleum’s monologue drives me nuts. I know! That’s the whole novel! But it’s something like Baek Deoksu’s style, where I sit there and shake my head going “Young man, I know you’re playing tricks with me”. I mean seriously, it’s not a bad thing. Just don’t make me work hard every chapter hooo, I’m a lazy kind of guy yk read for fun and leisure. ghost story ooo so scary…

[cholondry]

So, I recently watched the pilot for "The art of murder", an indie animated murder mystery show that just released it's pilot, and I have a theory on who did it. (Also if you haven't already: please watch the video, it is really amazing)

First off, I'm going to rule out Pip herself. I know it would be the easy anwer, but she didn't rip out the page the first night. This leads me to believe that she would not do it the second night either. Also, which artist rips out a page and leaves it so messy that you see where it was?

Now let's go to a round of motive, opportunity and will. We know that everyone has a motive, so we can't cross off anyone that way. And based on the evidence so far, anyone could have had the opportunity by waking up first. But who is the one that is the most determined and strong-willed, actually going through with it?

In my opinion, it's Albie. The first thing suspicious about her is that she isn't covered in anything after waking up, despite Winn and Sousuke being stained. She was on the same page as Winn and when opened, the sketchbook shows both Albie and Sousuke. When Winn got covered in water, the liquid could have gone through the pages and soaked her as well. If the book was open normally, there would be a high possibility that the mud that got on Sousuke could have hit Albie as well. But she's completely clean, leading me to believe that she was outside of the book when both staining incidents happened. Georgio was on a whole different page, so it makes sense that he stayed clean.

Then we have her willpower. We already know that Albie is very determined in her goals of entrepreneurship and that she is'nt and doesn't want to be a damsel in distress. If she really feared for her existence, she is the one that is really going to do whatever she thinks is necessary. But interestingly, after they discover the missing page, she says that she can't be a murderer, and that princesses are more likely to be killed. And this despite her prior attempts to clearly differentiate herself from other princesses and highlight her strength and independence.

Then there are the visual and behavioural clues.

When they were only meeting OC, she was already looking wary in the background. She doesn't smile and you can't see her eyes, meanwhile everyone around her is in an upbeat mood. She could have already realised by then what OC's existence could mean for her. Furthermore, Albie calls him "Not a real character", which sounds really suspicious, as OC clearly has personality traits and "character" is literally in his name. It could be nothing, but it does sound suspicious.

Then there is how involved she is in the investigation. She draws the conclusion, that the first to wake up would be the prime suspect. And when Georgio is about to investigate, she tries to say something about it. Everyone is involved in the case, but she is actively participating in the investigation process, which could be because she's nervous or tries to throw Georgio off. The other characters (outside of the literal detective) aren't as involved as Albie, so her behaviour sticks out.

Then there is the biggest clue so far: The dog was somehow involved, and the mud from his paws can be found on Sousuke. I can't make much sense of it currently, but it circles back to Albie somehow being clean when her page neighbours aren't.

But that's just a theory from someone who's currently watching too many detective shows.

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #14 | 12.02.24

And November is over! This month has been filled with paperwork, organizing receipts, and so on, which isn't very fun, but it's part of the job!

We are making great progress with everything overall; merch has been ordered and we have received proof and approved it; our voice actors are already delivering the voiced names y'all paid for during our Kickstarter campaign; and more! Let's see it in detail, shall we? :^)

Our dear Raquel has been working hard (I think I say this every devlog, but damn) on reworking the sprites for the extended demo now that the Special postcards for the Kickstarter are done! For this next batch, she'll be working on Ara and Amon, so here's a WIP of how Ara is looking so far! 💜

I think you can see how her design is already more detailed and cohesive in some areas. We'll most likely ask for feedback when Amon is ready too, to test the waters with both characters like we did with Gael and Xal :^)

The street is coming to life! This background is almost ready thanks to Astro. We'll have four new locations in the Extended Demo to help with the pacing and the introduction of our world and story to (hopefully) make it perfect. Or something close to it!

In the writing department, I've so far added 7000 words to the prologue. We have one flavor choice, two personality choices (and several personality reactions), and three "relationship choices". These basically shape your relationship with Evie in this case. For example, you'll be able to choose if you are intimate friends, are warm to each other, or if you prefer something less physical / touchy. And Evie will remember that!

And this is just so far. While River has a kind of "set" personality, I want people to be able to shape some aspects of their life.

In the writing department I should also include the documents I've provided to our VAs, and to our composer, Tomás. More on that below!

We have a proper help screen! Wohoo! 💜

Now you can enjoy Ren'py's default help screen but looking a bit nicer. This is for those who are not familiar with Ren'py's usual keybindings and stuff :^)

Nothing else on the programming side this month. I've focused on writing the script and that's going to be my main job until I can actually start programming something!

As I said before, our beloved voice actors are already working on the voiced names! In fact, Xal's VA (Francfil Pontañeles) and Pride's (Pat Langner) already recorded them! A little surprise is that we have been able to add our default MC's name, River, as a voiced name. For those of you who want to play with that name, you'll also enjoy some voiced lines!

What else—ah! We are already working with Tomás for our OST, and we have settled in 19 tracks total. Those are even more tracks than we expected! This is thanks to you all, and especially thanks to those of you who ordered more merch via Backerkit. You made those four extra tracks possible!

Our merch has been checked and so far only the pins are missing a preview and therefore our approval. We had to edit some files (beginner's mistake!) but being the first time we do this, I'd say things have been rather smoothly! We'd like to be able to start shipping this month, but it may not be possible. Which is a bummer! But well, we settled in December / January, so January it is, if nothing happens!

(Don't mind the colors being too flashy here—they will look more cohesive in game!)

OH, and the last extra bit! I've been working on the personality choices, as you all know, and Kayden has been helping me make the icons that will appear next to those choices for those who are colorblind. An extra thing to make them pop and differentiate them better! I think they are pretty self-explanatory, and if not, well—that means we have to give those icons a twist!

November has been a chaotic month for me due to the aftermath of the floods and my vacation week. The rest of the team has also had their good amount of irl stuff happening around them, but we've made it! The new year is approaching faster than I thought, as per usual, and I hope we can finish 2024 on a good note!

And that's all! As always, please take care, have fun, and enjoy the rest of the week!

[faewrenbird]

Homicipher Theory

Mr. Hood: The Dishonored Samurai

Don’t turn your nose up yet, hear me out. Maybe it’s a stretch, maybe it makes sense, maybe it’s just a damn good (or delusional) headcanon, you decide.

Homicipher/Mr. Hood Route Spoilers Below!!!!

I established in an earlier theory that the “Ghost Apartments” is a pocket of the spirit realm on haunted grounds where a hospital and subway line were once located but destroyed in an earthquake, after which, an apartment building was built and then abandoned.

But I have a theory that the history of the haunted grounds goes even further back. Perhaps as far as Edo-era feudal Japan. Why? I’m inclined to believe that Mr. Crawling is from that era, but that’s a whole different theory I still need to mull over.

Suppose it’s true—that the cursed land that has accumulated hundreds of vengeful and lost spirits became haunted hundreds of years ago. Perhaps, it became cursed and haunted due to war in this time period. Whatever the case, operating under the premise that its history is this old, I want to take a look at helpful Mr. Hood.

Mr. Hood

He’s the first face we see after waking up in the spirit realm (not counting our startling run-in with Mr. Crawling). You could consider him our Toriel. He gives us the basics, enough info, or lack thereof, to begin our exploration. He tries to teach us some words: light, dark, sound, door, not, maybe “container” if we’re smart. We take this knowledge, leave him in the room behind us, and proceed to immediately get our hearts eaten by Mr. Gap.

But who, or what, is Mr. Hood?

The only thing we learn about him from our brief introduction is that he’s a man of few words, mysterious, monotone, and he’s…literally just a guy in a hood. Oh, and he’s got a big fuck-off axe for seemingly no reason at all.

From what I’ve played of the game so far, it seems we’re unlikely to ever see him again unless some really bizarre and specific conditions are met.

If those conditions are met, we wind up being Alice-in-Wonderlanded into a miniature version of ourselves, and Mr Hood makes an unexpected appearance to help us try to find the magical potion to make us normal again.

During our adventure with him, we…don’t learn much. Kind of the ongoing theme of this game, actually. Get used to perpetually knowing nothing and being confused by what you do know.

We do learn a few key things, though.

First, man has a deft hand with an axe. In fact, he can flawlessly execute any ghost he deems to be a threat, without a moment’s hesitation, and with the badassery to act totally calm and say only “they’re dead” when you interrogate him about it.

Second, there’s nothing under the hood. After escaping a brutal entity, he sits with his hood pulled back, revealing nothingness. Unlike the Bride, though, he prefers to mask this feature. When we comment on his lack of a head, he quickly pulls the hood back up.

Third, he has a body. Although lacking a head, we know that there’s something solid under the cloak, because he hides us in it and we comment on the err…texture of his insides(?).

Fourth, he is some kind of executioner. This is perfectly apparent design-wise. Hooded and carrying a massive axe that he employs with perfect ease. Some speculation, but he seems to specifically serve the purpose of executioner in this land of ghosts. He’s very adept at detecting a threat and differentiating between good and evil (wish the same could be said for our himbo-brained Mr. Crawling, but I digress). In fact, while we're taking a nap, he evidently leaves to a different room to hunt and kill another ghost.

Fifth, he goes where he’s needed. He comes off as someone strictly bound by his duty. At least, this is what I infer rather than him being a wandering spirit in these halls. It’s why, when we’re reunited with Mr. Crawling and the others, Mr. Hood leaves us. We don’t need him anymore, and he can’t accept that we want him with us just because we like him. In fact, he tells us not to say things like that, or depending on your interpretation, that he has nothing to say to that before he abandons us.

So, what does this all mean (apart from making him the sexiest and most mysterious hooded figure I’ve ever known cough)?

My theory is that, in life, Mr. Hood was a samurai who committed some great treason and thus endured the ritual of hara-kiri (seppuku) for his execution.

Hara-kiri was a form of ritualistic suicide where a samurai would take a blade and slice open his stomach, after which, an executioner would decapitate him. An honorable death was when the executioner left just a bit of the criminal’s neck during the slice, not quite severing it completely. A dishonorable death meant the whole head came off, which was embarrassing for the deceased samurai and his family.

If Mr. Hood was a samurai, his prowess with a weapon and calculating attitude towards fulfilling his duty and cutting down enemies makes a lot of sense.

If he was a dishonored samurai, then his reclusive manner and the shame of having no head also makes sense. Not that I think the ghosts retain memories of their life (Mr Gap excluded), but he could be carrying residual shame and dishonor from his death. He could be forever trapped trying to repent for his sins by executing evil, to make up for whatever treason he committed.

I think it’s further evidenced by our description of his insides. Slimy. It’s a grotesque thought, but if we’re being held against a gutted and sliced open stomach, this description makes sense, too.

Additionally, the shame and self-loathing would help explain why he rejects our confession of affection towards him. He’s not worthy of that affection, nor of companionship. He can’t even fathom our interest in him.

(Edit: some below translations aren’t great, I’m still ironing them out. As I’ve seen now, the best translations show us saying “Love you,” and Mr. Hood replying with “not understand,” indicating her can’t grasp our love for him, which still lines up with everything I said!)

I personally am really obsessed with this concept and have adopted it as my headcanon because I think it makes it all the sweeter when he comes back to save us and decides to carry us for all eternity (which, btw, I squealed when I realized that we were no longer small when he picked us up with this objective in mind, so we’re spending our afterlife being bridal-style carried by this man). We are, after all, the first person to care for him since his humiliating death. The first person to like him. The first person to give him purpose beyond routine and mindless execution of dark spirits. We give him a new duty, something to protect and cherish.

And idc what you say, that’s goddamn romantic for this vaguely romantic horror game.

[torantuga]

i was unmotivated to draw this week so i forced myself to draw in diff styles - and i chose to redesign emmk cus i love them both sm (even tho i dont even enjoy td anymore)

buut then i got the idea of maybeeee i could make a what-if scenario where julia-mk-emma alliance could be made

so here they are!

EXPLANATION BELOW!!! (warning, maybe ooc but it's a rewrite + redesign)

sooo what im bringing to the table is a rewrite of their characters - esp s1

JULIA

for julia, i wanted to make the twist villain thing for s2, which might sound weird... but i can explain

she mantains the happy-go-hippie personality as a facade during the time she stays in the island, whilst in the background she's actively sabotaging other contestants with the help of mk. she only shows her true colors after mk betrays her (which i kept the same, probably after the merge tho) and she gets kicked out. (iii feel like mk would stay longer BUT not be a finalist, mainly cus in this redesign she plans things through very VERY carefully)

she would be used as the main villain for s2, and she would be like julia in mid s1 probably - petty, strategic and, most importantly, deadly. she replaces her tropical, pinkish clothing with blueish popular outfits and she becomes mean as she can be. hostile, she becomes someone to fear as she turns her gentle face into one full of disgust for those around her.

MK

So. you guys know i love MK - shes the whole reason i still havent let go of td - so im giving her the best character ever!

calculative, observative, and sneaky, shes the definition of a stellar strategist. she makes herself look average just to pass by smoothly, and she sabotages everyone she cans to assure she stays that way until the very end.

though she's snarky, she understands that overdoing it might get her on a radar. she observes everyone she can to understand them on face value in order to know how to approach them.

she's naturally drawn to julia, as she notices things in her behavior that differentiate her from genuinely nice people like priya or emma. her smile twitches when no one looks, her eyes do not smile along with her mouth... she's as fake as she can be.

so she observes her during the first episodes, trying to make a conclusion and find a way to get her on her good side.

so she confronts julia alone, which makes julia drop the act and threaten her. mk assures julia that shes in no way trying to threaten her, and that she wants to form an alliance, which julia then accepts after some convincing that they were probably the best duo in the game so far.

she's still got a lot of character outside julia though, and she shows it through her snarky attitude when it comes to everything, and her master thief tactics that she uses to hack and learn what challenge is going to happen and how she's going to eliminate certain people that oppose a threat to her.

However, a duo like them always needs a backup to throw under the bus at any circumstance of danger, so they decide to pick a gullible, insecure person....

EMMA

A nice, silly girl that has some bottled up anger from years and years of frustration she was told to keep in because of her internet persona.

after a messy break up and a fine that cost her almost thousands of dollars, she's pretty sure the bottled up anger is now cracking. she's no longer a youtube star, as her ex's channel was the only thing keeping her trendy, so she no longer needed to spread herself thin to please an audience - to please him.

so! chase is here! hm! how the FUCK is she supposed to continue the game knowing that her stupid ex is in the same tv show as her?!

he's dumb, lazy, and apathetic. he shouldn't be there to begin with!

...so she tries to ignore him as much as she can, though he sometimes makes her want to scream.

either way, her ex aside, she tries to be kind to everyone she meets, but everyone sees her as gullible and naïve cus of it. shes letting everyone see her insecurities by simply existing, and though she's friends with bowie, everyone guesses she won't make it far. she's fun, silly, but also weird in her own way.

mk observes emma and concludes that she's the perfect pawn for their game, and so she finds her alone to play mindgames on her, knowing that her biggest insecurity is not being a good people-pleaser.

mk manages to convince emma that she should join the alliance, and so she accepts. emma's not happy about it though, but she understands mk wouldn't let her join if she didn't saw potential.

THE ALLIANCE

mk, julia and emma are underestimated due to their actions, so it's not hard to cheat in challenges that way. emma finds this a bit uncomfortable, but she helps them with social intel. she's the least suspicious of the bunch, so she can eavesdrop with ease since she's not seen as a threat.

they manage to kick out chase and ripper with ease, and they go unpunished through the series.

well. until mk betrays julia, that is.

mk knows that her days are counted if she keeps julia around for too long, so she frames her as soon as she feels things going against her. it is not pretty, and julia swears on her life she'll take her down.

but she didn't betray emma.

mk never mentioned emma being in the alliance, causing her to get the boot as soon as possible, which is 2 episodes after julia.

emma stays to be in the final five, but she doesn't end up winning.

mk swears it's so that they can team up next season, but it's something more.

HOW EMMK CAN STILL WIN

mk originally was going to betray both of them, but she couldn't. not emma.

emma was a genuinely nice person to be around, and though she was useless when it came to actual scheming, she was funny and understanding.

mk had a big crush, long story short, and couldn't bring herself to see emma get hurt like that. if she had had a crush on julia, which she thought she had, she would've still betrayed her. it was strategy, and there were no hard feelings.

but emma? mk believes seeing her sad face would probably ruin her. she's a truthful person, and mk admires that.

so she and emma stay friends, and continue being alliance members in s2, which escalates into something more.

S2

i believe s2 wld be julia vs mk in terms of main villains, and emmk wld be the main focus when it comes to mk and emma screentime.

julia tries her hardest to sabotage, and mk counterattacks in default, leaving them to battle for dominance all the way til the merge, when mk gets eliminated instead of julia. emma is heartbroken due to her ...friend.. getting kicked out, and she follows the next elimination.

idk for s3 but maybe mk wld be a finalist or win cus my girl needs a win under her belt!!!

[curioussubjects]

How is there a throuple on prime time TV?And why are they the medical staff on a luxury cruise?

I'm still not sure how Doctor Odyssey is a real show that's airing every week and not some fever dream, but since it seems to be that it is a real show, here's why I think it's yet another medical procedural drama...and on a cruise!

While polyamory has become more widely acknowledged in the mainstream, it's hardly normalized or even common in both media and people's lives. Likewise, queer representation, especially that of bisexual men, is still far from being without controversy (if it's allowed to be represented at all, as Supernatural fans like myself well know).

So, again, how in the world is Doctor Odyssey, which very explicitly centers the developing sexual and romantic relationship between Max, Avery, and Tristan a thing that exists? Or, to put it another way: if we have a story that is unusual for most people and even uncomfortable for many of them, how can that story be told without alienating the audience?

The answer: tell it in a way that feels familiar, and maybe a little detached from reality. So, medical procedural drama on a cruise! Ok, let me explain:

Why a Medical Procedural Drama?

Not only has the the genre been a staple of American television since the 90s (thanks, ER), it's a type of story that is told in formulaic ways. It is, after all, a procedural. Both its familiarity and predictability allow the audience to sit back and enjoy the story unfold with its expected beats. This type of TV is meant to be fun and easy to watch. Such shows might give you some current issues beats to ponder as you watch, but they're not making you do a lot of work.

But why medical as opposed to law enforcement, which is a much more common type of procedural? Because, thanks to the legacy of shows like Grey's Anatomy and House MD., medical dramas have a lot more leeway to be dramatic AND unrealistic while somehow preserving the veneer of realism. It's this allowance for dramatics and breaches of realism that create a comfortable bubble of "sure this might as well happen" that prevents the audience from being alienate when faced with a wide variety of topics that can be as accurate or fantastical as the plot demands.

Polyamory, within this broader landscape, can be a Very Special Episode that just so happens to span every episode, and viewers can be carried through that plot by the familiar patterns and conventions of the genre.

Why on a Cruise?

Oh, aren't medical procedurals so cliché? How can we make it interesting?? I know, put them on a cruise! We haven't put doctors on a cruise yet! (totally 100% real conversation on ABC)

Sure, the cruise premise stinks of gimmick, but what if that's the point? Surely, most people would see a show like Doctor Odyssey and imagine that what makes it different is that it's set on a cruise. Yeah, that's not completely untrue, but the cruise serves a much more important purpose than being a differential on a pitch.

In fact, the cruise, like the medical procedural, is another liminal space that allows for multiple ways to engage in fantasy or reality as the plot demands. Mainly, and most crucially, though, the cruise is a bubble, an illusion, which is a point the show itself makes in the pilot episode. It is unmoored (heh) from the expectations of land, like accurate representations of healthcare, or say...monogamy as default. As such, the cruise makes not only for a dynamic choice of setting, but a very intentional one.

Reality Check:

The interplay between genre and setting is crucial. The audience, with all its expectations, of what a medical procedural drama is know what they're tuning in for, and they can easily imagine the dramatic (or ridiculous) nature of the cases that will be present in a luxury cruise. True enough, as I mentioned before, the pilot episode starts by being very honest that the cruise is an illusion: the captain shows and describes all the craft and skill that goes into creating a safe space for passengers to engage in fantasy. The genre savvy audience is then invited into aligning not with the cruise passengers, but with the crew.

Except Doctor Odyssey isn't really about the medicine, or the cruise, is it? It's about Max, Tristan, and Avery. So the audience is given a choice at the metanarrative level: be the passenger or be the crew. Be aware that the point of the story is the polyamory or tune in for medical staff...on a cruise! Win-win! What I think is fun and clever about all this is that no matter who you choose to align yourself with, you can't ever truly escape reality lurking in the wings. The polyamory is simply there no matter how resistant the audience, but the setting and the genre create a buffer around it.

Sure you can have a threesome on a cruise, it's like Vegas. No big. Nothing threatening to social conventions. It's not real. But reality has a way of reasserting itself: in the tragedies that befall the passengers on the ship, or their mishaps, or the cherished memories they'll look back on. And while the crew upkeeps the illusion, they aren't immune or completely separate from its effects (good and bad). No one can divest themselves from what they experience on the cruise and neither can the viewer.

Through genre convention and its setting, Doctor Odyssey (and I mean, look at this title alone lol) navigates the unfamiliar waters of accepting the richness of the human condition (to echo Captain Massey), and brings the audience safely to shore with a new understanding of what relationships can look like.

And this is how Doctor Odyssey managed to get produced and make it to air, and we get to be unhinged about Tristan, Max, Avery, and the YEARNING. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk etc.

[bitdemonic]

date. april 8th, 2023

time. 8:59pm

—❝𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃.❞

𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬. FUTURESPOUSEPAC . . . a message from them.

𝐚𝐢𝐝. if the images above are too hard to differentiate between your intuition, use ‘pile 1, 2, 3, or 4’ for the choice selection instead. this reading has four piles. pic not included.

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫. 18+ content—no minors. please remember, this post is just for shits and giggles. use the best of your discernment, pinch that grain of salt. and although i write under the impression that majority of this content’s viewers are women, i do read for feminine and masculine energies. if needed to, please flip the roles as reversed for an accurate message. hope this reading is useful, but not for plagiarism bitch. enjoy.❦

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞

🃏 movement retrograde. sweetness retrograde. faith. rest.

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞

✞—. “i want it whenever i can get it. idc who’s around, i don’t give two shits about who’s looking. you’re the only person i ever want to have and knowing that i can have it? whenever we want? broad day, pitch black at night, at a park, at a concert, in the car it doesn’t matter and it never will. im going to shove my dick so far into you it’s going to come out of your mouth, that’s how carnal i am for you. my soul burns for you, im running off of petroleum gas at this very moment. you’re a diamond in the fucking rough. i mean, the faces you make when you cum are just . . . im so pleased, so blessed to have you as mine. to call you my lover, my one and only—not many have the pleasure of doing so, but i do.”

✞—. “i’d run ass naked up and down the street just to proclaim my feelings for you. you’re divine, you’re special, you make my crotch tight and my cheeks warm. i’d fuck you for hours upon hours, just to hear your moans. the same moans that remind me of the melody to a favorite song, the one i’ll keep on repeat because i never want them to end. keep your eyes open during sex, i want you to watch me have my way with you. to see the things i do to your body, the same things that make your insides twitch. moving back and forth, up and down, all around and through nirvana just to end it all in rehab. you’ll never want me to go, and i never will. i’ll even stay inside for a few minutes after, because i don’t want to leave us either.”

✞—. “i love you, but above that i lust eternally for you. love is nothing for us, but only because it was always a given—i’ll never stop loving you. it’s just during sex, the way i want to give all of my strength and trust into it, that’s something vulnerable for me. something different and new. but i’m willing to share that, without complaint too, because you’re mine. one person made special just for me, it’s natural that i show my appreciation. i want you to feel the way i feel for you, but through my actions more than my words. understand our connection with each act of pleasure i bring upon you, so on and so forth.”

✞—. “i’m always available to make love, to fuck—to tangle the sheets and wring out the perspiration from our bodies. making you cum constantly—endlessly, without losing stamina and without the thought of it having to end. scream for me, cry for me, moan for me—most of all, cum for me. do all those things and more doll, and promise to never stop.”

end.❤️‍🔥

previous reading

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨

🃏 passion retrograde. creativity. abundance. confidence.

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞

✞—. “give me that pussy. that sweet, tight, warm cunt. i want it all over me—my face, my thigh, hell even my stomach, i don’t mind my love. i’ll be gentle, whether that’s taking it nice and slow or hard and fast—whatever pace you need. don’t ever be afraid to tell me what you desire, or better yet, take control of me because it’s yours. my cock has your name printed on it in red ink, signed by yours truly.”

✞—. “the sight when you’re naked, the swell of your breasts down to the curve of your thighs, it makes my heart clench. even the tips of your feet get me going. never stop riding me, lock your legs around my waist and bounce on me all damn day. cum in my mouth, cum on my clothes, cum on my fucking face—i’ll eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. you’re gorgeous, but even more so outside of the sex. i don’t care what people say, i don’t give a damn about what they think either. it’s you that i want and i want you right here, right fucking now.”

✞—. “strip for me, baby. pull off your shirt as i watch with my thick cock in hand. unclasp your bra, slide the straps from your shoulders, let it tumble to the floor. i’ll gasp at the gentle bounce of your breast, in awe at their beauty, before attacking them with my mouth. you’re my inspiration, the blueprint of the world’s desires. made for us—we all want a part of your essence to bring home for bragging rights. want to see your body shine under the spotlight, showcasing as aphrodite’s favorite, nothing but glitter and gold. on display as heaven’s angel. stand just like that so you’ll never fall.”

✞—. “show the others what they’ll never touch, the parts of you that they’ll only be able to dream of. the same parts that i’ve been trusted enough to feel, to love and appreciate. yes . . . like that baby, don’t stop. show me how much of a blessing it is to have the emulation of a goddess at arms length. how much of an honor it is, keeping the place that’d be gone and up for grabs if you decided to cut me loose. i won’t fuck this up, at least not again. i know what i have, and i’ll always need it in order to survive. you.”

end.❤️‍🔥

previous reading

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

🃏 happiness. intuition. magic retrograde. illumination retrograde.

[tw — somnophilia] this is a channeled scenario from your person but if this theme isn’t comfortable for reading i suggest choosing another pile!

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞

✞—. “i watch you sleep, you know. it’s hard not to, hearing the soft breaths escape your lips as the shadow of peace drapes upon your face. bathed in the comfort of being home, you’re content at last. sleeping, embracing the idea that nothing could interrupt the state of winding down. nothing at all—except me. fingers tracing along the hem of your underwear, dancing across the design pattern, before pulling the band of them and letting it pop against your skin. it’s kinda funny—more adorable if anything, the flutter of your lashes at the slight sting below your abdomen.”

✞—. “i do this all the time, or at least when it’s essential. when we’re both aware of how much you need it, i’ll tease away the sleepiness until it’s desolate and gone. you’d never guess it was real, the heat from an open mouth as it warms the center of your panties. that same mouth, dampening the fabric before placing sloppy kisses along the seams. you’ll whimper, tossing and rubbing as you’re mindlessly wondering what the hell kind of dream is this? why does it feel extra real, and why are your hands thrashing to grip at the pillows?”

✞—. “mmm, mmhm,” will fall from the lush of your lips, disrupting the quiet of the night with natural reaction. you’re spurring me on, you little minx. encouraging me to keep going, urging me to fuck with your innocence some more. to turn vulnerability into utter rapture. and i will baby, of course i will. you’ll be conscious at this point, blinking more than twice for obvious reasons, seconds before your face turns into disbelief and tempted half lids. feels good, doesn’t it? i know it does, you don’t even need to utter a word—that moan’ll suffice.”

✞—. “teasing becomes eating, eating until we’re impatient for the rest, until you’re frustrated from not being stuffed full with the other parts. oh yeah, baby—you’re definitely awake now. up and at ‘em, waiting for me to finish what’s began, waiting for me to send your precious body to sleep once more.”

end.❤️‍🔥

previous reading

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

🃏 caution retrograde. trust. isolation retrograde. mystery.

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞

✞—. “our kisses, the taste itself, intoxicate the sobriety of my mind. your mouth, placing the sweetest of sins against mine. i’m left to fend for myself, to stand on trembling legs, stumbling around the reality that is us—proceeding with caution. those lips, diluted in gloss or whatever else that has them shining brighter than a star. drenched in angel dust, sprinkled from the fingers of God himself, urging me to come and get blessed. and blessed i be, for i never want these moments to end.”

✞—. “i can’t stop thinking about those sounds, those kitten mewls that send my brain cells into overdrive. can’t forget the trail of poised hands rubbing and wrapping around my neck to pull me closer. you’re incredible. the sweetest thing since candied apples, just as you’re hell on earth. damn you, damn this feeling. damn the air thickening around us, damn the temperature rising in time with our heartbeats. i feel my chest concave when you go, the same way i feel it inflate when you walk into the room. engulf me with your presence, take me and never let me go—don’t let the others take me from you.”

✞—. “i want to be attached to your hips just as my hands are, how they know where home is when they grab at your waist and pull you in. pushing you against my abdomen to give your own hands some room, to let them run over the hem of my zipper before pulling away. i’d offer to finish the job for you, to fling my shirt and pants to the floor, but that’d ruin the fun wouldn’t it? the fun behind the tease, the persona of being daddy’s girl—spoiled and bratty, naughty not nice.”

✞—. “hard as hell to tame, but that’s the excitement itself. eyes going slender and sultry, bottom lip being bitten, hair tossed to glance over one shoulder—i feel ill, hot flashes and stomach turns, because you’re my kryptonite. tbh, you take all my breath away and funnily enough, i don’t want it back. it’s an eye for an eye, swapping out my oxygen for your full devotion. as long as i’m with you, i’ll never need to breathe again. to have and to hold forever.”

end.❤️‍🔥

previous reading