#but that doesn't mean they do not care for each other

[pasteldreams]

aftercare - c.s.

pairing: fwb!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you teach your fuck buddy, chris, how to care for you after he rails you

cw: mentions of sex and bodily fluids (mdni), aftercare, pet names (baby, pretty girl, etc.), educational maybe?, fluff

word count: ~1.2k

you and chris had been "together" for a while. when you broke up with your ex 6 months ago, you missed his dick more than anything. fortunately, your friend, chris, offered up just what you needed. you two weren't technically dating, but everyone knew you were fucking each other and only each other. chris was great in bed, he knew exactly what to do to make your back arch and your fists grab the sheets. however, he didn't have nearly as much experience as you do. his lack of experience didn't seem to affect his performance much, but his aftercare skills were shit. and today was no different.

"fuck, you did so good for me baby," chris says in between heavy breaths. he slowly lowers himself to lay next to you as he gently brushes your hair off of your face, both of you sticky from a combination of bodily fluids.

all you could release was a soft hum in response as the blood pumping through your ears began to quiet. you attempt to open your eyes only for the exhaustion to drag your lids back down.

chris laughs, "damn, it was that good?" you could practically hear the smirk in his voice before he let out a soft laugh.

"i'll give you a minute to recover, pretty girl." he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before moving to check his phone on the night stand. after seeing his notifications, he begins rambling on about something sports-related, but you were still much too fucked out to comprehend any spoken language. once your senses returned to normal, your eyes fluttered open and you slowly turned towards chris, cringing as your lower body vibrated from even the small movement.

"guess what time it is," he grins laying against the pillow while facing you.

"what time is it, chris?" you ask trying to mask the discomfort.

"it's… CUDDLE TIME!" he yells suddenly before throwing himself on top of you, forcing you to lay on your back, and engulfing you in his arms.

you groan and attempt to push him off quickly receiving a pout in response.

"heyyy, what's wrong? why won't you cuddle with me?"

"dude… i literally have your cum dripping down my ass crack right now," you roll your eyes.

"oh," he pauses. "um. do you want me to get you a towel or something for that?"

"uh, yeah, that'd be nice," you say passive aggressively.

he doesn't respond as he quickly shuffles to the bathroom to grab a towel.

"do you want a big one or a small one?" he yells from the bathroom.

you sigh. "either is fine," you grumble just loud enough for him to hear.

he returns with a small towel.

"what's wrong baby?" he says as he climbs onto the bed putting the towel next to you.

"have you ever heard of aftercare?" you ask using the towel to soak up as much of the leaking fluid as you could, grimacing at the friction on the sensitive area.

“aftercare? like when a parent forgets to pick their kid up from school?" he jokes.

"no, chris… like for after sex," you state bluntly.

"no? am I supposed to know what it is?"

"do you wanna keep fucking me?"

he looks at you with surprised eyes not expecting that kind of question.

"of course I do, I mean─fuck─look at you," he gently slides his hand up your side as his eyes follow, taking in each inch of your skin on the way up.

"well, if you wanna keep fucking me, you need to learn how to take care of me after. you can't just fuck me the way that you do and expect me not to be in pain afterwards…"

"wait, you're in pain?" he furrows his brows in concern. "why didn't you tell me, angel? i can be more gentle whe-"

"no! fuck, no. i love the way you fuck me. please, don't be gentle. that's not what i want"

"so what d-"

"christopher, you can't learn if you don't let me talk."

"oh right, sorry, i'm listening," his expression turns serious suddenly.

"aw, what a good boy," you smirk teasing him.

"yeah, yeah, yeah, let's get on with this so I can keep fuckin' you, pretty girl."

"my pleasure," you grin. "first, you're usually pretty good with this one, but after you practically abuse me with your dick, i need you to tell me how good i was for you. because it's a lot of work taking you like i do, and i deserve the praise."

"you do deserve it princess. i can─no, i do do that. easy. next," he responds confidently.

"next, the towel. non-negotiable, and honestly, put it down before we even start 'cause once you pull out, sometimes even before that, it all just…"

"yeah, yeah, makes sense. i definitely should've thought about it when i was washing the sheets every single time we fucked," he admits sheepishly.

you laugh, "yeah, maybe."

"what else can I do for you, baby?" he cups your face with one of his warm hands, softly gliding his thumb across your cheekbone.

"now… i'm gonna need some help getting to the bathroom, 'cause i don't think i can even stand up on my own right now," you laugh softly, thinking about the less-than-natural positions chris had just put you in.

He laughs, smirking. "i really fucked you good today, huh?"

"just shut up and help me up."

“yes ma'am," he salutes jokingly before standing up and reaching his hands out to lift you out of bed and to the bathroom.

"you didn't have to carry me," you tell him.

"i know, but i like carrying you," he admits as he gently places you on your feet in the bathroom. once you're standing with the support of the counter, chris can't help but look you up and down.

"are you just gonna watch me piss or can i get a second by myself?" you tease him.

"oh shit, right, sorry. i'll be- um, i'll be out here," he says clearly flustered by your comment while backing out of the bathroom and closing the door.

You laugh, shaking your head.

After finishing in the restroom, you call chris's name softly.

"yes, baby?"

"can you help me get back to the room?" you giggle at your own sad state knowing it was partially your fault for begging chris to go harder.

he opens the door, quickly scooping you up and carrying back to the room.

"so, when do we get to cuddle?" he asks laying you down on the bed,

you roll your eyes playfully at him. "now, we can cuddle now, chris."

"fuck, finally, i've been waiting years to hold you," he exaggerates as he lays next to you, pulling your frame against his chest.

"chris, it was like 10 minutes."

"yeah, and I was going through withdrawal."

"you're so dramatic."

he nuzzles his head into your neck, releasing a content sigh. "you trust me to take care of you now? i can keep fucking you? please say yes."

You laugh. "yes, you can keep fucking me, on one condition."

"anything for you. what is it?"

"you promise to always cuddle me after."

"i promise to always cuddle you, whether we fucked or not."

a/n: love y/all and thanks for all the support! enjoy :)

🏷️ taglist: @y3sterdaysproblem @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan

reply/msg/inbox and ask to be added to the taglist!

cake divider by @dollywons, apple divider by @ithemes, and heart divider by @cafekitsune

[scoutofmymind]

fratboy!Luigi x i-dont-wanna-be-here!Reader just randomly had the thought of Lu being a rowdy frat boy and got kinda Tingly

Divine Timing Bullshit { Luigi x Reader }

Content: pretty much SFW (if you read about an alleged assassin at work), kissing, existential crisis, Fratboy Lu is actually a sweetie

W.c: 2,485

Notes; Yeah he’s an aggro-frat boy, but he’s also a stoned philosopher, and you appreciate that, because you’re kind of losing it.

Ohh, oh, oh. Yes, yes, yes. Frat boy with a brain and heart, reader is lowkey Going Through It.

Second-year frat parties had lost their theoretical allure. Gone was that first-year thrill of living the quintessential college experience, of checking off every box in the collegiate party manual.

This year, though. This year felt different.

"Who's going to be there?" You mumble through a mouthful of scone, eyes fixed on your screen. The pastry, a hasty purchase between classes, sits half-forgotten in your cheek.

"Since when do you care?" Your roommate swivels from her desk—a chaos of textbooks, scattered lip glosses, an open laptop, and uncapped mascaras. She brandishes her lip pencil like an accusatory finger, eyebrows arched. "You're turning into such a second-year hermit."

You flinch at the accusation, phone dropping to your chest as you stop mid-chew. "Fuck," you mutter, brushing pastry debris from your hoodie — the same one you've been living in for... three nights? Four?

She doesn't need to spell it out. You've become a ghost haunting the same tired circuit: dorm room, library, labs, class. Any moment of freedom dissolves into endless study sessions or mindless TikTok scrolling until you drift off to the white noise of ASMR or satisfying slime crafts.

"Don't make me go alone." Her voice cracks with a plea you can't dismiss. "We're supposed to be doing college together. We promised."

The pact.

The fucking pact.

You'd both sworn, hands clasped under string lights in your shared room during orientation week, that you wouldn't let each other miss out on anything. Not the midnight donut runs, not the questionable decisions, not the memories that were supposed to make these years matter.

And so, it was settled.

•

The house loomed before you, nothing like the usual frat dungeons. This was old money — a sprawling estate with an infinity pool that cut into the manicured lawn like a slice of sky, and a home theater visible through floor-to-ceiling windows.

Bodies pressed past, each collision a reminder that you'd rather be elsewhere.

"Whose fuckin' house is this?" The words barely leave your mouth before your roommate's giggle floats up, her shoulder bumping yours as she shrugs.

The question evaporates into the thrum of bass and chatter.

You knew the drill by now.

She'd disappear into the crowd, hunting for tonight's conquest, while you'd drift through rooms like a wandering spirit in limbo — observing the drama unfold, helping yourself to whatever expensive snacks rich kids kept in their pantries, and sometimes, when the night got boring enough, investigating medicine cabinets.

Eventually, your travels lead you toward clusters of laughing girls, some familiar faces from lecture halls, others newly christened friends after thirty seconds of slurred introductions.

The living room couch has become your sanctuary, a perfect vantage point for the night's theater.

"God, he's fucking hot." Liz's whisper cuts through the ambient chatter, her eyes fixed on the kitchen where the imported marble island has devolved into a battlefield of red cups and spilled beer.

A tall figure commands the space, radiating the particular brand of arrogance that comes with being undefeated at beer pong for the past hour.

"Who?" Your eyebrows knit together before shooting upward in realization. She can't possibly mean -

"His name's Luigi." Her voice takes on that dreamy quality, like a third-grader confessing her first crush behind the jungle gym. "He's studying Computer Science."

Your face contorts into an expression somewhere between horror and disbelief.

"I know," Liz breathes, mirroring your shock. Luigi wasn't unattractive — that was the problem. The universe had already dealt him the unfair hand of conventional beauty; the revelation of actual intelligence felt like cosmic overkill. "Wouldn't think he was aiming any higher than a business degree, huh?"

You watch him slam another cup, arms raised in victory, and try to reconcile this frat god with the same person who probably spent hours debugging code.

The image doesn't compute.

Every other CS major you knew was either passed out in the engineering building or mainlining caffeine in their dorm, not holding court over a beer pong empire.

"Just gives typical aggro frat vibes," you mutter, unable to tear your eyes away from the spectacle. He's exchanging those elaborate, ritualistic handshakes with his bros, throwing back shots like water. Your body instinctively recoils, but there's something magnetic about the train wreck unfolding before you — like watching a perfectly coded program crash in spectacular fashion.

He's performing, you realize — a master of his craft, painting broad strokes of the perfect college experience. Creating stories he'll tell at reunions and job interviews, memories that look better through the lens of a camera than they feel in real time.

You study Luigi's practiced grin, the way he looms over his temporary kingdom, and something shifts.

Does he have someone to call at 3 AM when the world caves in? Or are these connections as deep as the beer puddles on the marble counter — evaporating by morning?

The room tilts slightly, your earlier drinks and that passed joint finally catching up, making everything sharper and softer all at once.

Your gaze drifts over your own circle, these girls laughing and sharing secrets like best friends, some of which you'd only learned most of their names moments ago.

The thought hits you like cold water: who among them would you trust with your real stories? Who would pick up your call at 3 AM? Are you any different from Luigi — just playing your own part in this performance?

The night air slaps you awake before you even realize you've fled, your feet carrying you to a hidden corner of the garden where a stone fountain whispers secrets to itself. Here, the party exists only in echoes — distant laughter, scattered arguments, and drunken declarations of love or war floating across the manicured lawn.

You tilt your head skyward, searching for anchor points among the stars and the world narrows to just this: the cool stone beneath you, the rhythm of water, the infinite above -

"Hey."

Your body jolts to attention, the peaceful moment shattering like glass. Your eyes drop from the constellations to find a different kind of celestial body standing before you — broad shoulders blocking out stars, dark features caught in shadow, curls tumbling across his forehead.

Your mind scrambles for a name, like trying to catch smoke.

Luis? Lucas?

Luigi.

The beer pong champion himself, somehow materialized from your earlier observations like a summoned entity.

"Hey." Your body performs an awkward dance on the bench, caught between making room and trying to collapse into nothingness.

"What are you doing out here?"

The question, though innocent enough, triggers your defenses. Your response comes with teeth: "I could ask you the same thing." It's a warning label, bright and clear: Approach With Caution.

The garden's twinkle lights catch him in their amber web, transforming the beer pong champion into something softer — sweat-sheened skin, features gentled by shadow.

His posture reads like an open book written in a language you can't quite translate, neither defensive nor inviting.

Just curious.

"Well, you could." The words roll out with the same casual grace as the shoulder he shrugs, a yet-unlit joint dancing between his lips as his thumbs tap out a message on his phone's glow. "And I'd just say I live here."

The universe, it seems, has a sense of humor.

A groan slips past your defenses as mortification sets in. Of all the backyards in New York, you had to stake your claim in this one, then challenge its owner about his right to be there.

"To answer your question though-“ The words come filtered through the joint until flame meets paper. He exhales, and his next words ride out on a cloud of smoke: "I came out here to call my mom." His phone screen glows with evidence — his mother's contact photo, her name bookended by heart emojis and a simple Mama.

Something about Luigi — maybe the lingering beer pong bravado, maybe the way he wears this vulnerability so casually — still begs to be challenged. "Gotta make sure she doesn't suspect you have about one hundred NYU students in her home, hm?"

He shakes his head, the sound he makes sliding down the scale like lazy jazz. "Nah, she doesn't care about that shit." His thumb hovers over the keyboard, apparently deciding a text will suffice for tonight's check-in. "And there's definitely not a hundred people in there right now."

You study his posture — the way confidence and caution occupy the same space in his frame, like watercolors bleeding into each other. "Where's she?"

Luigi's eyes lift from his screen to find yours. "Seychelles." The message swooshes into the digital void before his phone disappears into his pocket. "Your turn."

The garden's ambient soundtrack fills the space between you, water music from the fountain where a bronze boy — who bears a suspicious resemblance to a younger Luigi — plays eternal lifeguard to the trickling streams.

Your eyes lock across the dim space, neither yielding.

"My turn to what?" The question is a stalling tactic, and you both know it.

"Your turn to tell me what you're doing out here."

Your gaze wanders the curated wilderness around you — the fairy-lit canopy, the fountain's eternal performance, the swimming pool framed by trees sculpted into shapes that belong in a vintage Playboy spread.

Everything here speaks of a life so different from yours, yet something about the engineering student standing before you, texting his mom from his own party, suggests a truth you hadn’t expected; the distance between your worlds might be shorter than it appears.

"Just needed some air." The lie falls flat, each word a domino tipping toward the truth you're trying to outrun—that existential spiral triggered by watching him earlier, wondering about the depth of his connections, only to find your own relationships reflecting back just as shallow.

Luigi claims his spot beside you, the bench suddenly alive with shared warmth. His knowing smirk and raised eyebrows speak volumes while his lips stay sealed, the silence between you stretching like taffy until -

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Getting some air." He mirrors your words back to you, a perfect echo with an undertone of challenge.

Your hands scrub across your face as if trying to erase something, and when you turn to face him, he's already there, matching your position like a choreographed dance. His eyes lock onto yours — steady, focused — as you stare back with the wild gaze of someone about to jump off a cliff.

"Do you ever think maybe you're just kinda... existing?"

There it is — your midnight confession spilling out into his garden, raw and unfiltered as the joint smoke curling between you.

Luigi catalogs you with the quiet satisfaction of someone who's just solved a puzzle — noting the timbre of your voice (hoarse from shouting over beer pong champions and top-40 hits), the way moonlight catches in your hair, how your eyes betray every thought. "I know that's what I'm doing," he nods, conviction steady as a heartbeat. "And that's enough."

"But what about the connections? What about true and real bonds?" The words tumble out as you watch him draw from the joint. He offers it your way — a bridge between strangers — but you wave it off, earning a laugh that somehow makes your existential crisis feel less like drowning.

"What about them?"

"Don't you miss having them?"

His shoulder grazes yours as he makes a face that suggests you're missing something obvious. "Existing doesn't mean I cease to create bonds or connections." His voice intensifies beside you, taking on the weight of someone that had something to convince you of. "They happen everyday."

The stare between you holds with magnetic force, compelling you to consider his truth: maybe you're the one who's been building walls instead of bridges, hiding in recycled hoodies and social media scrolls while real connections knock at your door.

"You think?" Your vision shifts, the aggressive frat facade dissolving to reveal something unexpectedly gentle around the edges.

"Well, what do you call this." His finger traces an invisible line between you, the gesture casual but weighted. "I think there's reason for everything, besides, like, cancer, or something." The statement perfectly gift-wraps his essence:

A walking contradiction — the frat boy who steps away from his own party to text his mom, a beer pong champion who philosophizes between 'likes,' an engineering major who can turn existential crisis into comfortable conversation.

"Well, it's interesting, to say the least." You're not sure if you mean this moment, this revelation, or Luigi himself. All you know is that Liz will either lecture you about garden rendezvous with her biggest crush, or demand a word-for-word replay.

Probably both.

"You think there's a reason we're both out here, then?" The question follows him as he leans forward, stubbing out his joint in a tray by the fountain. "Some sort of divine-timing bullshit?"

"I do." His conviction stands unwavering against your skepticism. "That's exactly what I think."

The sigh that escapes you carries the weight of self-awareness — maybe you're the one standing in your own way.

"Give me your phone." His shoulder nudges yours again, and you find yourself digging through your purse without hesitation, unlocking it before passing it over.

No questions asked — maybe you're already buying into this divine timing thing.

He returns your phone with a smile that seems to know something you don't. His own phone lights up with urgent news about a friend's overindulgence, likely greening out on the front lawn. "Gotta split."

You straighten your back, body still glued firmly to the bench beneath you, “Wait,” the request comes out steady, but hurried, afraid he might evaporate somewhere into the midnight air. “How - how do you do it, then?”

He settles back down, closer this time, “Do what?”

“Make it easier — connections, parties, being..” You gesture vaguely at all of him. “Present.”

Luigi considers this, his smile softening. "Maybe because I don't overthink it. Like right now — you're probably wondering if this is the right moment to ask the right question, when really..." He leans in slightly, voice dropping. "Sometimes you just have to let things happen."

The air shifts between you, heavy with possibility.

You're acutely aware of how close he is, how his eyes keep dropping to your lips as he speaks.

"Is that what you're doing?" Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. "Letting things happen?"

"I'm letting myself do what I've wanted to since I saw you having an existential crisis by my fountain."

And then he's kissing you — or maybe you're kissing him — the distinction lost in the warm press of lips and the lingering taste of smoke. It's gentle at first, questioning, until you lean into it and his hand finds your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

When he pulls back, that knowing smile returns. "See? Divine timing bullshit."

His phone buzzes again, more insistent this time. "Duty calls," he sighs, standing. "But text me. We'll work on your overthinking problem."

Read pt 2 Here ☁️

[gothicfied]

more for 124 :(((((((

Hand in Hand - Nam-gyu / Player 124

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x Reader

Summary: The fight in the men's bathroom and the rising tension between players gave you much to worry about, but Nam-gyu gave you to comfort you needed

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood, killing (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: 721 words

A/N: Tihihihi, I love this man fr. I hope this isn't too cringe🧍‍♀️

You couldn't sleep, actually, no one was able to sleep. Sitting on the bed under you was Nam-gyu, who didn't want to talk to you - talk to anybody - after the fight was broken up. You immediately understood what was up when he yelled out that the men who voted 'X' had attacked them, killing some of the players. Thanos didn't return. Yeah, it was pretty obvious why he seemed so pissed off, so shell-shocked. Quietly, you sat up, carefully leaning down to see what he was doing. Nam-gyu was biting his fingernails, eyeing Thanos' cross necklace that he was holding in his slightly shaky hands. Seeing you leaning down from the corner of his eye, he frowned.

"What?"

"I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"I'm scared.."

Nam-gyu's face immediately softened upon hearing your words. He swallowed hard and hastily tucked the necklace into his pocket, gesturing for you to come down and sit next to him. As gently as possible to not catch anyone elses attention, you dropped down from your bed and leaned against the headboard of Nam-gyu's bed, your shoulder pressed against his. "Are you sad?" you asked quietly, just looking down at your lap as you spoke. You heard his breath hitching for a moment, but he still asked you what you meant by that. "Sad about- well you know." Silence.

Nam-gyu wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. He has witnessed so many deaths in this place by now and none of them have affected him in the slightest. He didn't know them well, so why should he care about a random player? "Because, I'm not sure if I should be." your voice interrupted his thoughts. Slowly, he turned his head your way, taking in your side profile in the dim light. "Nah," Nam-gyu chuckled, "he was an asshole. Had it coming, in my opinion." Despite his words, he sounded bitter. It's not like he didn't mean them, because that's exactly how Thanos was, but they still had some kind of.. friendship.

You met his gaze, your eyes wandering over his face covered in splatters of blood. That was worrying by itself, but you didn't have any interest in asking about what role he played in that fight. "And why are you scared?" You looked at him like he asked you the most stupid question in the world.

"Come on, you know everyone will try to kill each other now."

"And you know that I won't let anything happen to you."

Ever since he defended you from a group of men, who were making more than weird comments about you, immediately on the first day you woke up in this hellhole, you've just stuck with him. On multiple occasions now, Nam-gyu has proven that he actually won't let anything or anyone harm you. Why? He doesn't know it, either. He just likes you and you didn't take that for granted. Nam-gyu made you feel safe, you trusted him, even if that's hard to believe. Usually, he'd be compliant with what Thanos would say or tell him to do, just not when he was giving you a hard time — That's partially why he just couldn't feel sorry for that man.

Slowly, Nam-gyu wrapped his arm around your neck, making you lean your head against his. The silence between you two was never awkward and more comforting than anything. You were able to hear faint whispers of other players, feet tapping the ground and the occasional cough from that old guy, Player 100. Nam-gyu's hair tickled the side of your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Whatever happens tonight, I promise I'll keep you safe."

[saintzweig]

art donaldson x mean girl!gf hcs :3

୨ৎ personality for the character (reader) is based off jade west from victorious!

୨ৎ if there were three things people remembered you by, it would be your rbf, your brutal (sometimes unnecessary) honesty and your boyfriend who is your complete opposite, art donaldson.

୨ৎ you and art dating came as a surprise to everyone, he was an angel while you were... you've had your moments.

୨ৎ they all came to accept it sooner or later, seeing as how the two of you balanced each other out. with art around, the chances of your outbursts were lower and with you around, art learned how to stop being such a pushover.

୨ৎ art loved your transparency and honesty, the way he doesn't have to walk on eggshells around you or decipher whatever is going on in your brain because you express so clearly the emotions you feel.

୨ৎ other people may have their thoughts on you, gossip about who you are and all that but he knows that they're all surface level, he knows you better than anyone so he knows it comes from a good place.

୨ৎ you're overprotective of him and your close friends, you don't like it when other people cross boundaries and make you (and him) uncomfortable.

୨ৎ he's pretty much the only person who's well equipped to deal with your moods, knowing when to pull you away when things become too much and you're starting to get irritable from overstimulation. he knows how to calm you down, help you ground yourself.

୨ৎ on the rare occasions you blow up on him, he tries not to take it to the heart. he knows it's more the situation than him, you were blowing up at him and not about. but it still doesn't change the fact that it hurt, so he goes quiet and leaves you alone.

୨ৎ you tell him to fuck off and he will, but just in the other room. he knows you'll come around soon enough and make up, so he doesn't approach you unless you make the first move.

୨ৎ usually you find him wrapped up on the couch, with a tray of meal on the coffee table waiting for you. even when you were so unfair to him, he still wants to take care of you.

୨ৎ "it's alright, darling. you were just stressed, i know you didn't mean it"

୨ৎ aside from that, he finds it hot when you're mean to other people. especially when you're jealous :3 which is often, considering art is pretty famous on campus.

୨ৎ this man would stand behind you while you go off on a girl that tried to kiss him, giggling and blushing while holding your hand.

୨ৎ he also likes it when you end up using your mean-ness for good lol, someone's yelling at the pregnant cashier lady at the grocery? you're giving them the same energy. a professor is trying to humiliate someone in front of the entire class? they can kiss their job goodbye.

୨ৎ you and art balance each other so well, when he's too shy or too much of a pushover to disagree with whatever, you push him to do it anyways and remind him to prioritize himself. when he's doubtful of himself especially in his tennis career, you tell him that a man with his talents is allowed to be a little arrogant.

୨ৎ he's so malewife energy and he's well aware of that, i swear his type in women are assertive and feisty ones.

[rie-092]

Hi, here I reader an he Creep lycris and (i hopenits okay 2 characters) but I love the idea of the Eclarcks vrothers being ivsessed woth Penelope's maid! Reader.

And they tried to get notice, in a bad or good way. Reader takes care and actually loves Penelope and just want her mistress tk be happy uu

EVENT'S ENTRY OO2 : CREEP

[ yandere! eckhart brothers ]

note: here's the link of the event (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)!

let's start with derrick. he was the first one who noticed you. let's just say that you and him was childhood friends since you started working in the eckhart estate since you were a child.

at first, to be honest. derrick finds you annoying. but seeing you being happy and friendly towards his little sister. it struck something inside him.

and that was when he realized, ah, damn you. he was falling hard.

expect that derrick, despite of being prideful, will be very needy. hell, you're not even lovers but he will start demanding for your attention.

he will start calling for you everyday, despite of being busy with your work. and what's his reason? simple, because he wanted to ‘play’ with you.

well, technically you guys just spend times while reading books or drinking teas. but for derrick it was everything.

and that was when reynold eckhart entered the scene.

unlike his calm and collected older brother, reynold was fucking cute, i mean, a mess when he's in front of you.

it all started with a small crush and that was when he started following you around like a puppy. dude, this guy really loves headpats and compliments. so you better shower him with compliments!

he likes playing with you and yvonne! but it's just annoying to have derrick playing the dad role while you play the mom role when yvonne wants to play house.

since they were children. they haven't really realized that their affection for you were— how will i describe it? darker? or unhinge?

derrick was the calm and calculated one while reynold was the violent and cranky one. to be honest, they are not really jealous to each other. sure, they want your attention for themselves but— nah, nah, in derrick's eyes, reynold was too childish to be your type. while in reynold's eyes, his brother is too sophisticated to fall for you.

expect that they will be more handful when yvonne disappeared. they will be more clingy. because reynold wants you to comfort him while derrick was preventing you to disappear like yvonne.

and that was when penelope entered the scene. when the duke was finding a suitable maid to serve penelope. you were with derrick that time. he saw how your eyes shone as you looked at penelope.

no, no, no! he kept telling to himself that you only reacted like that because you miss yvonne. there's no way you find that thing adorable!

but the next day, he was surprised when he was informed by his father that you became penelope's personal maid. how dare her—

what about reynold? well, he doesn't really give a fuck. sure, he still hates penelope taking his sister's place on their family. but seeing you actually enjoys serving penelope.

honestly, derrick and reynold was really different when it comes to you. reynold was the soft one, heck, he won't hurt anyone or you physically and verbally if you give him the attention that he wanted. but once he saw you paying attention to anyone that is not him or derrick? you should expect to see his violent side.

while derrick is the unhinge one. he doesn't care who it was, if you don't pay any attention to him. the hell, this guy would lose it. i mean, the last time you went to the festival with your male friend. he tortured that thing in front of you (and hell, he was so close on doing that to penelope if you're not that overprotective over her).

and you? who is stuck in the middle of this two brothers who is like a ticking bomb? you only want one thing. and that is for penelope to be happy.

but unknown to you, penelope actually wants you as much as her siblings wanted you. but don't worry! she is willing to share you with reynold. but not with derrick.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“ we want you to notice when we're not around, (name). ”

[runninriot]

To Love And Be Loved

written for @steddiemicrofic

january prompt: new | wc: 517 | rated M | tags: sexual content, newly established relationship, boys in love

   "I love you," Eddie says so easily and unashamed. And it's new to Steve, this outspoken form of devotion.

   "I want you," he whispers against Steve's lips, emphasising his words with a kiss that feels like he means it.

So honest, and unafraid, and real.

Eddie's love is loud; he carries his feelings on the tip of his tongue, lets them spill whenever they want to break free, doesn't care who hears, or sees, or minds.

This love is different from every other love Steve had ever known before Eddie came into his life, not with a bang but quietly. Slowly sneaking his way into Steve's heart and inevitably- into his bed.

He doesn't even know when it happened. One day they were only friends and the next they woke up in each others arms, two sets of eyes sharing unspoken secrets before their lips confessed what their hearts had already known.

And just like that, Steve wasn't just Steve anymore. Became Eddie's boyfriend, and honey, and baby – all those silly-sweet names Eddie likes to call him, which Steve gladly returns because he likes how Eddie smiles with his eyes when he calls him my love.

It's amazing, this feeling. New and exciting although sometimes confusing because Steve had to learn that with Eddie, there is never too much, or not good enough.

With him it is always everything and everything perfect, and Steve believes when Eddie says that he's the best thing that ever happened to him. Because he feels it all the same, knows that as long as he's got Eddie, he'll never be out of luck.

And while he doesn't quite know how he deserves all this happiness, he sure as hell won't question it. But instead cherishes it, and worships it, and holds on to it for as long as he can.

Loving Eddie is like loving the moon in all her glorious phases – always moving, always changing. Makes it hard to keep up sometimes, chasing new highs every day. But Eddie's love keeps him grounded even when his head is lost in the clouds. Keeps him safe and protected and cared for, always.

   "Who do you belong to? Say it, baby," Eddie demands, each word another thrust pushing him further into his core.

   "You. Oh-nly you.”

It's hard to speak, harder to focus when he's bursting with love, so full of Eddie.

Eddie, whose love is possessive and greedy and all-consuming. Leaves Steve trembling and panting when he fucks him so deep, so good, with fervid passion. With hands that know exactly how to touch him and a clever mouth that knows all these tricks to make him come undone. With a body that was made to fit Steve's like they are two parts of a whole.

Eddie, whose love is soft and hard, and goes bone-deep. Leaves an imprint on Steve’s body and mind each time they crash and fall together.

And Steve will never get tired of it, no matter how much Eddie tires him out when they explore all these new ways to love and be loved.

[grimrevolution]

i thought long an hard about responding to this because i'm from a very different background than most people in this fandom and to mary kirby, the writer of lucanis.

a preface; i am aro/ace. aromantic and asexual. i don't experience sexual or romantic attraction to anyone. i also have a partner of three years who is demiromantic and demisexual. yes, you read that right.

the common misconception that happens is that people consider the asexual spectrum to be on the same line of chastity, virginity, or naivete.

people who are under the asexual spectrum aren't immune to being horny. it's a hormonal and emotional response. we're not motivated by sex and it's generally not caused by other people, but that doesn't mean that asexuals don't actively enjoy it. there are people who are sex repulsed but still participate in getting their partner off by using words but not actual touch (hi, that's me). there are others who would probably throw up being in the same room as people who are actively having sex (doubly so with strangers. hi, also me), and others that go out looking for sex but not for long term sexual partners because, hey, sex feels nice and it's even better when there's no strings attached.

i know asexuals who participate in bdsm, who have files on their computer full of the horniest smut you've ever read, who tell sex jokes like they're going out of style. i know ones who are virgins and probably will always be and i know others who masturbate regularly because damn, if they don't find other people attractive at least there's this rechargeable vibrator they can use.

asexual people will contradict each other with how they feel about the act of sex but the one thing we all have in common is that, at the end of the day, sex doesn't sell to us. that doesn't mean that asexuals aren't kinky, that we don't write about sex, nor that we don't do participate in the act. it's just that we aren't motivated by sex and writing us like we are confused little virgins is incredibly infantilizing if you don't take great care in how it's done.

and when it comes to demisexuality, they need that emotional connection. once that's done, they could experience attraction to their partner the same that anyone else not under the asexuality spectrum do. some of them become the horniest person you've ever dated and some of them don't! but the fact is that it is still not about the motivation of sex; it's still that bridge of establishing an emotional connection.

Are y’all telling me you looked at Lucanis and expect him to have the understanding of himself that he’s demisexual?

The man doesn’t even realize he can buy his own wyvern tooth dagger with his own money. He’s not doing that kind of reflection.

[cece693]

SLASHERS MASTERLIST!

Michael Myers

Male Reader

My Pretty Boy Summary: M/n was a killer who used his good looks as bait to draw his victims in. Yet, you know who wasn't so keen on the idea? His boyfriend, Michael Myers. Sorry Summary: You knew Michael would never intentionally hurt you, but accidents do happen. And how can you stay mad at your boyfriend after he tries to make it up to you? Childhood Friends Summary: You couldn't remember your childhood, so with a plan to return to your old home in Haddonfield for clues, you never expected yourself to be tied to the boogeyman himself, Michael Myers.

Gender Neutral Reader

Captive Summary: You were a witness to one of Michael's killings, however, instead of killing you, he'd taken you as a prisoner. How odd...

Hannibal Lecter

Male Reader

Velvet Ring , Velvet Ring Pt. 2 and Velvet Ring Pt. 3 Summary: Before Hannibal Lecter became the Chesapeake Ripper, he was a mute boy sent to an orphanage. There he meets you—a boy who slowly wins his affection. However, nothing good ever lasts. Give Me Attention REQUEST: Hannibal smitten with male surgeon who doesn't want to be his friend. Me, Jealous? Summary: Hannibal's husband doesn't react to jealousy, but his little cannibal certainly does. You Can't Outrun Fate Summary: When M/N feels that Hannibal is losing interest in him, favoring being in Will Graham's presence, he flees. It takes a year or more but Hannibal returns, and won't let M/N leave again. Always, Forever Summary: M/N wanted this nightmare to end—he regretted ever meeting Hannibal Lecter, accepting his friendship, and more painfully, allowing the doctor into the darkest dwellings of his mind. Where M/N and Hannibal face each other during the Mizumono episode. Pretend Summary: You faked being attracted to Alana to gain insight into the FBI, never knowing that it would set off your boyfriend's possessiveness. Nothing Can Bring Me Back Summary: Hannibal was indeed a person suit, but also a safety net to a man who'd lost everything: his child, his lover...his heart. Hannibal/The Hunt crossover.

Gender Neutral Reader

No Feelings Allowed Summary: Hannibal seeks to destroy his feelings because love was something the little boy from 1945 knew all too well, not the monster that had replaced him. Birds Of A Feather REQUEST: reader is off-putting constantly? always has a blank expression and is just really morbid to the point of weirding out other people. And if possible, could reader have an obsession with rats? Platonic. Handcuffs Summary: You made Hannibal Lecter fall in love with you, however, that doesn't mean that your cannibal suddenly turns into a normal person. You can't declaw a predator, nor do you want to. Secretary Summary: Hannibal told Crawford that his secretary was 'pre-dispositioned by romantic whims' and traveled to the United Kingdom. However, it's rarely as simple as that. Protect Summary: You didn't care if people were against your relationship with Hannibal, calling you all names under the sun for managing to 'bewitch' one of Baltimore's highest socialites, but Hannibal was a different story. mano mažylė Summary: How would things turn out if Hannibal raised a child on his own? Not that good. Platonic.

Various

Gender Neutral Reader

Slashers With A Serial Killer Lover REQUEST: slashers' reaction when discovering that their lover is a serial killer

Jason Voorhees

Male Reader

Oh No, He's Hot! Summary: What m/n believed would be a rather simple job has him encountering a masked murderer named Jason. But, oh no, why does m/n feel weirdly attracted to the dominant man? Social Recluse Summary: Even if you accepted Jason and his 'hobby', he understood you didn't like interacting with people. Staying hidden in your cabin, luck isn't on your side when a camp counselor stumbles inside.

Norman Bates

Male Reader

Well Mannered Son and Well Mannered Son Pt. 2 Summary: The rain didn't stop, causing you to pull over and seek shelter at Bates Motel. The attendant was cute but raised a hell of a lot of red flags. But who said you were the most sane to begin with?

Ethan Landry

Male Reader

He's Not The Killer REQUEST: Ethan is being accused by Chad of being Ghostface. His boyfriend doesn't like people disrespecting him. You Belong To Me REQUEST: Ethan is obsessed with you. So when you manage to discover he's the masked killer, Ethan sees no other choice than to kidnap you. My Boy REQUEST: Friends think Ethan's stuck in a toxic relationship, unaware that the boy actually encourages it.

Brahms Heelshire

Gender Neutral Reader

Clean And Tidy Summary: The Heelshire's never posted that nanny ad. After all, you were perfect for the job. Not only were you Brahms's nanny, but you were also the caretaker of the house when the Heelshire's were away.

Stu Macher and Billy Loomis

Male Reader

Looks Can Be Deceiving and Looks Can Be Deceiving Pt. 2 REQUEST: Ok, but like imagine both Billy and Stu with a big tiddy goth! male! reader as their roommate. Reader looks intimidating but is actually really nice. Why? and Why? Pt. 2 Summary: M/n Prescott was a straight-A student, popular, good-looking, and kind. So why was he holding a gun and aiming it towards his sister? What was his motive? Can't Handle It? Summary: M/N didn't know what the big deal was. Why Billy and Stu were angry at him for making out with some girl when they were doing the same with Sidney and Tatum.

Will Graham

Male Reader

I Hate You Summary: Perhaps Hannibal Lecter was right. The darkness inside him was meant to be released, so why does it hurt when that acceptance isn't displayed by M/N, the person who he'd come to care for? Monster In The Making Summary: The Lecter siblings were obsessed with Will Graham but for entirely different reasons. While Hannibal wanted to deconstruct the puzzle that was the detective, M/N wanted Will to be his.

Joe Goldberg

Male Reader

Hello Summary: A new customer has entered the bookstore and, unsurprisingly, caught the attention of Joe Goldberg. After his disappointment with Beck, can M/N be his one true love? Obsessed Summary: It was supposed to be a one-night stand—fun with a cute guy you found in the club, but this was Joe we're talking about. Once he'd tasted you, he couldn't get enough.

Hannigram

Male Reader

Bite Me, Darling REQUEST: Hannigram fic with male reader who has a biting habit—this includes objects and biting Will/Hannibal.

[gojozballs]

Gojo x Reader x Geto "Squid Game"

Warning: [This story contains Yandere themes, possessive and obsessive behavior, graphic violence, gunshots, and blood]

Materialist

Part 3

In a deadly game where survival is the only option, Y/N, with a painful injury, relies on her two protective boyfriends, Satoru and Suguru, to navigate the perilous chaos, unaware that the true threat lies right beside her

Y/n's POV

Once again, I find myself in the room, a place where survival doesn't mean fighting for our lives at least, not yet. The air around me feels sterile, yet suffocating. It's a toxic mix of dread and denial that clings to the walls and presses on my chest as we sit to eat the tiny portion of food. My head spins as I try to process everything: the deaths, the sacrifices, the mind-numbing futility of it all. Lives lost in an instant, snuffed out like they never mattered.

And yet, the worst part? The nagging fear that my boyfriends might be next. The thought twists my stomach into knots.

God, I feel so fucking stupid for even being here.

“Hey, baby. What’s got you so lost in thought?” Suguru’s voice cuts through the haze, his arm draping around my shoulders like it can shield me from the weight of reality.

Satoru glances back, his striking blue eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint. “Just so we’re clear,” he announces, loud enough for the whole room to hear, “I’m not sharing my food.” His voice is so random, so absurd that I can’t help but chuckle despite everything.

Suguru snorts, clearly unamused. “You’re full of shit. Didn’t you just feed her your food last time?”

“I was only talking about you, babe,” Satoru grins, his eyes twinkling as he shoves a piece of bread into my mouth with far too much confidence.

They’re always like this joking, bickering, pushing each other's buttons. Even here, in the middle of a deadly game. It’s both a comfort and a curse. Because when they shift gears? When the game begins? They turn into something else entirely. Something terrifying.

“I hope we win this time,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just want to leave. I don’t want any more of this.”

Satoru hums, popping a bread into his mouth and eyeing me with that devil-may-care smile. "Well, let’s just pray the ones who begged to stay already met their unfortunate end..”

I frown, the bitter taste of unease crawling up my throat, but before I can say anything, Suguru adds, so casually, “We made sure at least one of them did.”

My heart drops, the food in my mouth suddenly sour. “What… what do you mean?”

Satoru smirks, leaning his chin on his hand like this is some inside joke I’m too slow to understand. “Don’t overthink it, sweetcheeks. Some people just aren’t cut out for survival.” His tone is smooth, but there’s a cold edge beneath it that sends a shiver down my spine.

Were they serious? Or were they messing with me? I can’t tell anymore, and that’s what scares me the most.

Dread

"The votings will now begin..." The announcement echoes through the room, a chill running down my spine. A heavy silence fills the air as everyone rises, some frantically whispering their last prayers, others nervously laughing, awaiting their fate. The tension is suffocating.

"How cruel," I mutter under my breath, my gaze flicking to the men beside me. I can feel the weight of their presence, their proximity pulling me in, both comforting and suffocating.

“Y/N, you’re standing too far away from us,” Suguru’s voice cuts through the murmur of voices, his hand suddenly on my arm, pulling me closer. I’m wedged between him and Satoru, the pressure of their bodies making my breath hitch. It’s protective, possessive like they’re making sure no one can get too close.

I should be grateful, right? But there's a strange gnawing unease in the pit of my stomach. What if something happens to them? What if I can’t keep them safe?

Before I can get lost in my own thoughts, it’s my turn to vote. I take a shaky breath as I step toward the platform, the chaos around me escalating people shouting, crying, pleading. The noise is overwhelming. But I don’t care. I press the red button with a trembling hand. I just want out of this place, away from the madness, the fear.

Then

A collective groan, followed by cheers and cries, fills the room as the decision is made. We’re staying. Another round. Tears sting my eyes, and before I can stop myself, they spill over. I hiccup, my sobs coming in uneven gasps, and I can't hide them anymore.

“Hey, hey, sweetie,” Suguru’s voice is soft, a contrast to the storm of emotions inside me. His hand tilts my chin up, his gaze intense as he meets my eyes. “It’s okay. It’s okay, shhh…” He pulls me into his arms, but no matter how tight he holds me, I can’t feel at ease. I want to scream. I want to make it stop.

“I got you both into this,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath. “You two always protect me, but… but I’m the one putting you at risk.”

Suguru and Satoru exchange a look, but their faces are unreadable, a shared understanding flickering between them. Suguru pulls back, his hands still cupping my face, his touch gentle but firm. He wipes away my tears, his gaze softening, but there's an underlying intensity I can't quite place.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice low, every word wrapped in something that feels almost… dangerous. “Look at us. We’re here because we want to be. We chose to be with you, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if that means playing these games again and again.”

His thumb brushes over my cheek, the softness of the gesture masking the unspoken promise in his words.

“Besides,” Satoru interjects with a smirk, his attempt at lightening the mood falling flat. There’s something darker in his eyes, something calculating. “have you seen me out there? I’m a pro at this. You’ve got the best of the best protecting you, baby.”

I try to smile, but it doesn’t reach my heart. How could I not love them? They’re the only thing keeping me anchored in this nightmare.

"Sweetcheeks” Satoru adds, his voice dropping, his tone laced with something darker. “This is our decision. To be with you. To protect you. Nothing else matters. Understand?”

Before I can ask how they even got here, how they managed to bypass the system, I’m struck by the nagging thought that keeps haunting me. They’re too loaded with money to have been invited into a game meant for people desperate for cash. I can’t fathom how they managed to slip past the system, how they of all people could end up in a place like this.

The thought lingers, a sickening twist in my stomach, but before I can voice my confusion, we’re interrupted by the announcement of the next game. My heart thunders in my chest. I want to stay lost in their presence, to bury the questions and unease that are gnawing at me, but I know I can’t let my guard down not in this place.

We’re ushered into a new room, and my eyes dart around. The doors are different colors reds, blues, blacks each one more unsettling than the last. It feels… off. I turn to Suguru and Satoru, hoping for some sign of reassurance, but their faces are unreadable, their eyes sharp and calculating.

“What game is this?” My voice trembles slightly, and I can’t hide the unease in my chest.

“This one’s easy,” Satoru says, his smirk returning, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The cold calculation in his gaze gives me a chill. They're already thinking ahead, plotting moves, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of fear. I swallow hard, my stomach tightening.

Then I see them. Yuuji and Nobara. Their bright smiles stand out like beacons in the gloom, their youthful innocence a stark contrast to the twisted world we’re trapped in.

“Y/N-oneesan! Thank god you're doing okay!” Nobara calls, her voice bright and innocent, as though none of this is real.

“Yeah and we’ll get through this game, together again!” I say, trying to muster some semblance of courage. I don’t want them to see the fear that’s clawing at me from the inside.

But before I can say anything more, the voice of the game master booms, cutting through the silence like a knife.

“The next game will be ‘Mingle.’ A number will be announced, and you must quickly find your group and enter a room before the countdown ends. Failure to do so will result in elimination.”

The words echoed in my mind, and the first thought that came to me was that I had to prioritize them Suguru and Satoru. I groaned inwardly, the weight of the situation settling on me. This game… once again, I was going to be a burden because of my leg injury.

Let The Game Begin

The platform beneath us begins to shift, spinning slowly, and I’m pulled against Satoru’s side. His arm around my waist tightens, holding me steady as chaos erupts all around us.

“Four!” the announcer’s voice booms, and without hesitation, Suguru grabs my hand. Together, the three of us dash toward the nearest door, just making it through before another man squeezes in behind us.

Before I can catch my breath, Satoru pulls me into a dark corner, his body pressing close against mine. “Stay close, sweetcheeks,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with something dangerous and sweet, all at once.

The man inches forward, his eyes darting nervously between us. I glance at Suguru, who stands still, eyes locked onto the guy with an almost predatory focus.

"Two!"

The number echoes through the speakers, and my heart drops to my stomach. I gasp, spinning around to face them. “Y-you guys go with each other!” I shout, but my words feel useless. It’s like they’ve already planned it out in their heads, without even a glance at each other. Suguru doesn’t even hesitate he scoops me up into his arms, while Satoru bolts off in the opposite direction.

“NO! Please! Satoru! Suguru, just go with him!” I scream, my voice catching in panic. But they don’t listen. They’re already committed.

Suguru carries me into a nearby room, his grip firm yet oddly gentle, as if he’s trying to soothe me while everything around us falls apart. “Oh my god, Satoru…” I whisper, trembling uncontrollably, my mind racing.

“Shhh, baby, it’s Satoru. It’ll be okay,” Suguru’s voice is calm, but I can hear the edge in it he’s trying to reassure me, but even he knows there’s nothing really okay about this. I try to steady my breath, clinging to him for comfort.

“But what if—” I begin, only to be immediately cut off by Suguru’s voice, low but firm.

“You’ll hurt his ego if you think he’ll die over this. He’s not like them,” Suguru says, his words wrapping around me like a protective shield. But I can’t shake the feeling gnawing at me what if?

The sound of gunshots rings through the air, sharp and fast. My heart skips a beat, and I flinch, sinking into Suguru’s embrace as if it will somehow block out the noise. But it doesn’t. The gunfire continues, and my body trembles even harder.

Suguru holds me tighter, his arms tightening around me, though it doesn’t shield me from the fear. The only comfort is the steady beat of his heart and the knowledge that, for now, I’m alive. Safe.

Back in the platform a familiar voice cuts through the chaos, booming and undeniably confident. “I’m wounded, sweetcheeks. You think I’ll die over a game like this? Don’t lump me with them.” Satoru’s voice is loud, mocking the tension, even as the sounds of fighting continue around us.

Suguru growls in response, irritation flickering across his features. “Quiet it down, cocky bastard,” he mutters, his tone just as dangerous as Satoru’s bravado.

Despite the chaos unfolding around us, I can’t help but smile softly at Satoru’s voice, a sense of relief flooding through me. He’s alive. And that’s enough for now.

I don’t care about the judging stares or the whispers of the others. My hands find Satoru’s arms, gently caressing them, tracing the muscles I know so well. It’s my way of grounding myself in the moment. He’s here. He’s alive.

“Six!” The number rings out, but all I can hear are the panicked voices around me, the chaos intensifying. My heart races as I spot Yuuji and Nobara dashing toward us. “Yuuji! Nobara!” I shout, and they sprint over to us, barely slowing down before we all head toward the nearest door.

Suguru and Satoru are right behind us, each of them carrying an elderly woman between them. I breathe heavily in relief. Thank god they’re okay.

“Y/N oneesan, thank god you're safe!” Nobara's voice is full of worry as we hug, but my gaze drifts to the old lady in Suguru and Satoru’s arms, her frail body barely reacting to the chaos around her.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” I ask gently, but she doesn’t respond. Her face is pale, and I feel a pang of guilt. It’s like she’s completely checked out, her mind lost in some place far from this madness.

I can’t help but feel sorry for her, but then my thoughts shift back to the game. I just want my boyfriends to be safe, and honestly, that’s all that matters right now. I’m happy as long as they’re with me, but this game is getting worse with every passing minute.

When will this end? Are they planning to wipe us all out? The thought gnaws at the back of my mind, and I can’t help but feel the tension tightening around my chest.

The situation is spiraling out of control. People are fighting over doors now, desperate and vicious, as if they think that a door will be their ticket to survival. The fear is palpable, and it’s only growing.

"Three!" The number blares through the air, and before I can even react, Satoru grabs me, pulling me along with him as Suguru runs alongside us. Yuuji and Nobara split off, each taking their own path, but my mind is too clouded to follow them. All I can focus on is the one thing I can’t control.

“The doors!” I scream, panic flooding my chest as I watch them one by one slam shut.

“There!” Suguru yells, his voice sharp with frustration. His eyes dart to the door ahead of us, wide open, a moment of hope flashing across his face. We make a dash for it, only to come face-to-face with a man already inside.

“It’s taken!” I scream, my hands trembling as I turn, ready to find another exit.

But Satoru’s voice, cool and calm, interrupts me. “No, it’s not.”

I look up at him in confusion as he leads us inside. The countdown is nearing its end, and I can already hear the doors locking trapping us all inside with no way out.

“What do you mean? We’ll get killed if we’re more than three!” I say, my voice rising in panic.

Satoru chuckles, low and dangerously playful, his hands pulling me closer. “Baby, why don’t you just give me a hug?” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a darkness hiding beneath the surface. I stare at him in confusion, but before I can respond, his arms wrap around me tightly, pulling my face into his chest. My heart pounds as his grip tightens, his presence overwhelming.

But then, it happens. I hear it the faint, desperate sounds of a man begging, pleading, “Pl-please, no!” My body goes numb, the blood draining from my face as I realize what’s happening. Suguru is going to kill him. I try to pull away, to stop it, but the door locks behind us. There’s nothing I can do.

The sounds of struggling of someone’s life slipping away—fill the room. I feel the urge to shout, to scream, to stop this madness, but it’s like I’m paralyzed. The door’s locked, my body frozen in place, but my mind races.

Why does this feel so... normal? Is it just survival instinct? Or is it something darker?

Satoru pulls away, his hands gently brushing through my hair, and I glance up, my heart sinking into my stomach. The man on the floor is lifeless, his eyes wide in death, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.

“Y/N,” Suguru says softly, his voice almost tender as he approaches me. “It’s bound to happen.” His words should comfort me, but all I can feel is the growing weight of dread. I step back instinctively, and I don’t even realize it until I see the way Suguru’s gaze darkens.

“Are you scared of me?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper, but there's an intensity in it that makes my chest tighten. I can’t speak. I can’t even look at him.

“I... I...” I stammer, my voice faltering as I try to process everything. My eyes flick to the blood on Suguru’s face, and my stomach turns.

Suguru's voice, smooth and dark, cuts through the silence. “Y/N, you know what I said earlier, right? We’ll protect you, even if it means I have to kill again and again,” he says, his words light, almost playful. But there's a twisted edge to them that makes my skin crawl. Satoru spoke up reaching for me “It’s inevitable, baby. He was alone. He was going to die.” He smirks, his eyes glinting with something darker. “No biggie, sweetcheeks.”

No biggie? I feel my blood run cold, and my mind goes numb. Am I hearing this right?

I finally look up at them—Suguru with blood on his face, his eyes dark and unreadable, and Satoru, his expression that sickeningly serene smile, as if this is all part of some twisted game.

I’m scared. I’m so scared. The terror claws at my chest, making my hands shake. But... they’re safe. Right? Aren’t they?

They’re mine. They’ll protect me. But at what cost? As I stare at their faces Suguru’s sharp, calculating eyes and Satoru’s playful yet chilling smile I realize something deeper is happening.

I’m caught. Trapped between fear and longing, between the twisted desire to feel safe in their arms and the horrifying truth that safety comes with a price.

But then, as my heart races and my breath catches in my throat, I realize something else:

Isn’t this what I wanted? For them to be alive, no matter the cost?

[kisses4kuna]

How I think the jjk characters would comfort you after a break up !!

Includes: Satoru, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi.

(Hurt/comfort, mentions of break ups (obviously) murder and vandalism (jokingly), might be ooc, written with fem! reader in mind but anyone can read!! Please ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes, I accidentally posted this twice...!..!.!!! So fixing it was a little difficult so ignore it if any paragraphs are merged......)

Satoru Gojo:

You've been isolating yourself in your dorm for about three days now.

The guy you've been dating just dumped you and you've been devastated since.

Of course, Satoru, Shoko, Nanami, even Yaga have reached out and tried to comfort you, but you brushed it off with a muttered “I'm fine.”, being sure to shut the door in each of their faces before they could say anything more.

But you weren't fine. Of course you weren't.

You were so in love with your ex. He was your entire world and he just left like you were nothing.

You've spent the last three days crying, sleeping, and rereading old texts.

You probably looked like shit, but you couldn't care less. What was the point in trying to look or act decent now that he was gone?

You're forced to pull yourself out of your thoughts once you get a knock at your door.

You groan, you really, really don't wanna talk to anyone, but you force yourself to get up.

You open the door and before you can even get out a full “What do you want?”, Satoru shoves past you into your room with a shit-ton of snacks.

“Did you really think I was gonna let my favorite person stay isolated and wallow in their sadness forever?” He asks, giving you a teasing grin.

You can't help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

“What's all that for?” You ask, pointing to the snacks that were now covering the entirety of your bed.

“Movie night!! We're gonna watch a bunch of movies and eat a bunch of snacks and stay up all night until you stop being all mopey!” He exclaims, and you feel an excitement replicating his bubbling up in your stomach.

“If your big ass doesn't eat all the snacks...” You mutter back with a sly grin as you get into your bed, sitting beside him.

He immediately puts his hand over his heart and squeezes his shirt with a look of faux offence.

“What!? And to think I went out of my way to be all nice to you after your dick-head boyfriend dumped you!” He whines, crossing his arms to look more angry.

This only pulls laughter out of you. His face immediately softens, it feels much better to see your pretty smile than your depressed frown.

He pulls you into an unexpected hug, and once you process it, you hug him back.

“I can hollow purple him if you want.” He says, muttering the words softly against your hair in order to keep the moment quiet.

“That's not happening and you know it.” You whisper back. Suddenly, this break up isn't seeming so bad.

Maybe you just need Satoru and your other friends, and you'll be better in now time.

Nobara Kugisaki:

Ever since you found out that your boyfriend was cheating on you, you've been visibly down in the dumps.

Right now, Nobara is the only one who knows since she helped you catch him.

“I just can't believe him. All that time together and he fucking cheats.” You groan before looking up at Nobara, who's currently going through your closet to help you pick what you need to throw out and what you need to keep since you've got way too much clothes.

“Yeah, he's a total moron. Keep or no?” She asks before lifting up one of your shirts.

“You can throw that out. And with my best friend too? No offense to you, of course, but seriously? He could've slept with anyone, and he chose one of the girls I trusted most in the world.” You shake your head and your heart clenches at the thought.

“Well, at least one good thing came out of this.” She says, tossing your shirt into the ‘keep’ pile.

“What?” You ask with major confusion. What the hell is that supposed to mean? She thinks it's good that you got cheated on?

“Now I get to be your best friend!” She smiles and laughs, and that causes you to laugh as well.

“Yeah, and I guess if he had cheating in his mind, I don't want him anyways.” You then get up off of your bed and sit next to Nobara, leaning your head on her shoulder.

She puts the pair of pants she was holding down and wraps her arm around you.

You both just sit like that. Neither of you says a word, but you feel a sense of peace washing over you for the first time since the break up.

“So do you wanna beat up his car now?” Nobara says, breaking the silence, and all you can do is smile and laugh.

Yuji Itadori:

“He did WHAT??” Yuji practically screams and you immediately slap your hand over his mouth.

About thirty minutes ago, you found your boyfriend (well, now ex-boyfriend) kissing another girl.

Your first reaction was to run to Yuji's room despite it being midnight and pray to God that he was still awake.

When he answered the door, you could hear Human Earthworm playing in the background, basically telling you that you hadn't woken him up or anything.

Yuji stares at you with wide eyes and says something from under your hand, buts it's muffled.

“Yuji, you have to shut up! It's midnight and I'm not supposed to be in here! We'll both get our asses kicked if we wake anyone up!” You whisper-scream to him and he begins frantically nodding his head.

You remove your hand from his mouth and wipe it on your shirt since he got a little bit of his spit on it.

“Ew...” You whisper softly.

“I can't believe him! You're supposed to be his Jenifer Lawrence, guys aren't supposed to cheat on their Jenifer Lawrence's!!” He whispers back, somewhat aggressively.

You can't help but chuckle at his dumb reference.

“Tell me his address!! I gotta square up with this guy!!” He whispers again and you laugh again.

You don't know it, but he's acting stupid on purpose. He's not super skilled at comforting people, but he's great at making people laugh.

“‘Square up’??? Yuji, what is this? A 2000's drama comedy?” You whisper through hushed giggles, your hand now over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing too hard.

“I'm serious, no one cheats on my best friend without catching these hands!!” He whisper-yells back, which only causes you to laugh harder.

He continues making dumb statements until you both forget the time and are now laughing hard, not even whispering anymore.

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door that snaps you two out of your laughter.

Yuji quickly throws a blanket over you to ‘hide’ you in case it's a teacher then gets up to see who's there.

When he opens the door, he's met with an extremely annoyed and tired Megumi.

“Listen, I don't know what the hell you two are doing up at 1:30 in the morning but if you could shut up and go to sleep so that I can sleep, that'd be great.” He groans, glaring at Yuji then you.

“Do you think hiding under a blanket is actually gonna work?” He asks and you get out from under the blanket, your face is slightly flushed from embarrassment.

“That was Yuji's fault.” You say while pointing your finger at Yuji who them gasps.

“What!! I was trying to keep you out of trouble, how dare you push the blame onto me!!” He jokes back, and Megumi groans loudly.

“Just shut up.” He says before storming off back to his room.

Yuji shuts the door then walks back to his bed and sits beside you.

“We should have a sleepover!” He suggests with a big smile.

You tap your chin with your index finger, pretending to think.

“I dunno... You kick a lot in your sleep.” You tease him.

“I do not!” He retorts in offence.

“Fine. But if you kick me even one time then you have to do all my homework for the next month!” You say before laying down in his bed, pulling the covers over yourself.

He smiles and lays beside you.

“Deal.”

Megumi Fushiguro:

You hate this.

You can handle a lot of things, curses, training, homework, fighting...

But break ups?

You would rather take on a hundred special-grade curses all at once.

Megumi knows that about you. Which is why he's decided to let go of his nonchalant ‘I don't care about anything or anyone’ act for just today for you.

He knocks on your door and you answer.

“Oh, hey Megs. What're you doin' here?” You ask, your gaze shifting from his gaze to the blankets and snacks in his hands.

“Don't play dumb. You know I'm here to comfort you.” He rolls his eyes, walking into your room and setting everything down.

“I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.” You smile.

One of your favorite things to do is tease Megumi.

He knows that about you.

Come to think about it, Megumi probably knows everything about you. He's definitely your best friend. You'd probably choose him over anything and anyone. He knows your favorite songs, snacks, meals, movies, drinks, your biggest fears, your type, your pet peeves, everything.

So of course he came with every single snack you've ever said “Hey, this is really good” or “You know what you really need to try -!!” about.

Of course he came with his laptop to watch your favorite movies.

Of course he came with blankets and pillows to build a fort to watch said movies in.

Because contrary to popular belief, Megumi Fushiguro was the most thoughtful person you've ever known.

That's why he's your best friend.

“Oh, by the way, if you get a very detailed and remorseful apology from your ex, don't respond.” He randomly blurts out while building the fort for you two.

It's basically muscle memory for him after how many times he's done this for you.

“Megumi, please tell me you didn't threaten my ex into an apology...” You wince at the thought.

“I didn't threaten him.” He smirks as he puts the final blanket on the fort before crawling in.

You barely catch the smirk because it's gone within the same second it appears.

“Uh huh.” You reply sarcastically before crawling into the fort with him.

“So what do you wanna watch first?” He asks as he lists off all your favorite movies.

If you told anyone that the cold-as-stone Megumi Fushiguro was here in your dorm, building a fort for you and watching your favorite movies with you and cuddling with you when you both fall asleep, they'd laugh in your face.

But that didn't matter to you, since all you cared about was that you got to see that side of Megumi, and you wouldn't trade moments like this for the world.

---

A/n: this is basically just because I have evermore stuck in my head rn and it made me think ab Satoru helping reader after a break up!? Also, guess which one of them is my favorite 😋😋 I think it's obvious but idk..

[kitts-mechanix]

Right? Like no, people, he DOES care, he just doesn't show it. Can't afford to have his image ruined or to look weak in front of Megatron.

Yesss, I honestly just love to imagine the two lying on his bed, Arcane is resting her head on his chest or snuggled under Starscream's arm and the two just lie there enjoying each other's company. They don't need to say a word. They can just lie there and hold each other.

This! Star has never been good at dealing with disobedient bots, and the sparklings are no exception despite being kids who learn by example. "Don't question me, just do it because I said so!" and the poor kids are like "why is Daddy being mean?" He just doesn't know how to express himself to his own sparklings. He can barely express himself to Arcane.

"Star hating the idea of seeing his kids hurt by his own servos, and perhaps even in heavy moments, he'd stop himself mid motion just completely suddenly."

This! Like he catches himself yelling at the kids, or about to spank them and he just stops, servos in mid-air as he gets a flashback of what Megatron did to him and he realises he can't hurt his sparklings like this. And it scares him because deep inside he's worried that he IS turning into Megatron. The very one who hurt him. Kind of like in that scene with Bumblebee you mentioned! And yes, Starscream screaming that it's everyone else's fault, even when he knows it's not.

Ah I see! I've always wondered about his family past. I heard something about a comic where Star betrays his mum after she betrays him but I don't know the details.

I'm convinced Starscream has a cloning machine he uses on himself lol. The more the merrier!

I just had a huge realisation yesterday and I wanted to share this after going through some pretty horrible stuff over the weekend: Something I've always asked myself ever since getting into G1 Transformers was "why do you like Starscream so much even though he's a narcissistic bully? Why are you, someone who is a victim of narcissistic abuse, taking comfort in a narcissistic character?" Well, I think I finally figured it out. Because Starscream is also a victim of that very same abuse. I mean, he's beaten, called names, bullied, unappreciated, abused, and put through the wringer…and he internalised all that abuse because he knew no other way. He had no one to turn to, and the few bots who did support him, he treated like dirt. Once he had that freedom and power, he abused it and became the very thing that abused him. I have no doubt he was always self-centred, selfish, had a huge ego, etc. before all that but honestly? I think Megatron's abuse caused him to turn out the way he did. I could have turned out that way and it's a little scary, some of the parallels I'm drawing with him.

@ichbinmeltdown wrote a great analysis on Starscream that I want to share here:

"Megatron was abusive as hell to Starscream. He treated him horribly, and I legitimately almost cried a few times watching it. There's an episode called Starscream's Brigade that introduces the Combaticons, and I think that perfectly demonstrates the cycle of abuse. The entire world is against Starscream at pretty much every turn throughout the series, but none more so than Megatron. Every word out of his speech synthesizer to Starscream is to berate him, and he's constantly throwing him around, beating him, even ripping out his speech synthesizer in a scene from a previous episode (Hoist Goes Hollywood, IIRC). His own teammates don't like him, and even his brothers- Skywarp and Thundercracker, going off of the idea they're brothers- just... allow Megatron to abuse him. (Not to get into headcanons here, but I personally believe that Megatron's abuse fractured the Elite Trine's family dynamic. They are still brothers and love each other, but they're all too afraid of Megatron to really... stand up for each other as they did in the past.) And Starscream seemed to just snap in this episode. He treated the Combaticons poorly, and even when teaming up with Shockwave, he subjected him to a lot of the same ridicule and torment that Megatron put him through. He failed to realize Shockwave was the one of the only bots who would give him a chance- and unfortunately lashed out at him, which ruined his chances of Shockwave ever being a true friend and ally to him. Once Starscream had finally gotten a taste of power and not being under another bot's boot, he too became the very thing that he lived in fear of. And that really is how the cycle goes- when you're finally free from abuse, it can be tempting to overcompensate and take back all the power you were robbed of, at any cost whatsoever. Starscream, like D16 in Transformers One, snapped up this opportunity."

And the sad thing is, I've seen this in real life and I've internalised some of the abuse I've dealt with too. I'm not proud of it. Like the Seeker Trine, my own family dynamic has been fractured by similar abuse. I know there's traces of narcissism in my behaviour too, and I'm NOT proud of it. Maybe this is why I can forgive Starscream for being a narc, because I can see a little bit of my own personality/attitude/behaviour in him. Maybe it's because I know where it came from, I get why he acts that way and it's not just random and out of the blue. Maybe it's because--and I know this is a bold statement--I don't think he would do some of the stuff my own family did to me (blah blah blah he's a fictional character).

I didn't mean for this to turn into a long rant, so

TLDR: I finally figured out that part of the reason I love and relate to Starscream so much despite him internalising some of the abuse I went through, is because he was the victim of that same abuse.

[charmac]

thoughts on charlie learning how to read?

As to the effect, I think we’ll have to wait to see what really comes of it, considering the very final joke of the episode is he thinks “guest” on the scoreboard says “ghost,” they definitely made a point to make it clear he’s not necessarily literate by any means beyond “enough to graduate kindergarten”

I do like what Justin and Patrick, the EPs for Abbott said about the longevity of that establishment:

In the end, it’s definitely what Sunny and Charlie Day decide to do with this canon. We know the Abbott ep was filmed before any of the episodes for Season 17 of Sunny, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility that they do stick with the idea that Charlie doesn’t struggle as much with reading and writing and maybe has a little kick in him to keep practicing.

Personally on the existence of the storyline now incorporated into Sunny canon, I think they did it in such a fantastic way it’s hard for me to argue anything against or say anything negative. I loved watching it. The thing I love about Abbott is the heart they have in the stories and how real a lot of what they address and tackle in childhood-into-adult development is, and you feel that here, for sure. And we’re watching Abbott, not Sunny, so it’s something removed from the purgatory of the bar.

For those of us that know and love Charlie, I think it’s hard to not feel soft toward this idea that (even if it doesn’t stick or it’s so so basic) there really truly are ways for the Gang to develop and improve on their faults/stubbornness to change, provided it’s treated the right way. And that can only be done (and maybe only continue) in a completely different environment, like Abbott.

The tragedy of Sunny and the Gang is that they’ll never treat each other in that way and therefore can rarely develop. It’s not that they don’t necessarily care, but that their communication methods are so crude and fulled by (often trauma-born) selfishness, they can never give each other the support needed to help improve each other. They make each other miserable in most cases, but they’re also content with that because they almost equally inflict what they take on....

Though Sunny isn't all complete misery, as we all know. They do love each other in fucked up ways and (maybe) almost wish they could help each other in certain respects. Mac's support and encouragement of Charlie being able to read is evident in many Sunny episodes, so it really warmed my heart that Charlie was so eager to show Mac how he had learned and could do a more difficult part of the book for him :) In my opinion, they kept it well aligned with Sunny canon. The Gang don't have the tools to teach Charlie to read, but they do all support and even partly enjoy him learning if they don't have to do it themselves.

I think what we see of Charlie in the Sunny episode will be interesting. Since he's the A plot in Abbott, I have to imagine he has a minor role in Sunny, but will certainly be present. If the idea here is that everyone other than Dennis is serving to distract the teachers, and Charlie only learned to read for the week and goes back to his baseline state of illiteracy, I think I would accept that too.

The lasting effect of the plot doesn't matter too much to me. I think instead the idea that, in the right environment, Charlie can learn to read (and even gets some sense of pride and excitement out of being able to read) but Paddy's and the Gang are really what hinder him from being able to do so (despite the Gang not necessarily against the idea, and considering the fact that Charlie contributes to and prefers the environment they've created) reinforces the Sunny that we hold dear.

[dearlot]

NO ORDINARY GIRL | lottie matthews

— pairing: mermaid!lottie matthews x gn!reader

— summary: a collection of stories involving your relationships with the mermaid!yellowjackets, starting with how you meet lottie.

— wordcount: 2,260

The moment you finished unpacking your bags, you headed to your favorite place whenever you're here on holiday: the beachside. It's wonderful there, almost a vacation home in itself. Your parents always reprimanded you for neglecting to spend time with your grandparents since this was their home, but you couldn't care less. Maybe they shouldn't have chosen such a cool spot to vacation. And besides, you were on vacation! You should be spending time at the beach and not at home.

The room that you stay in is filled with seashells and rocks you've collected over the years.

Coming here is all you really look forward to when summer rolls around. You collect things in your hometown, but the nearest beach is miles away, and even though you're an avid collector, you're also lazy. Seashells are your favorite. You love touching them, and you love how each of them is unique to one another. They're never the same. Like snowflakes.

It's an odd day, mainly because there's barely anyone out on the beach with you. Usually, it's packed with tourists and townspeople alike. But today there's just you, the new ice cream man whose name you learned is Chris (the one you remember from your childhood died a few months back. Poor guy. He used to give you freebies on your birthday), the old lady who likes to feed the seagulls, and this weird girl whose head you can see peeking from behind a rock. You've been watching her for a few minutes and wondering if she's alright. She looks alright, I mean, what you can see of her, at least. You thought she was drowning at first because of how long she's been in the water, but she's not calling out for help or thrashing around. Then you realize how dumb you sound. Of course she would be in the water, you're at a beach! You shake your head and scoff in embarrassment, getting up from the bench and thinking you could find more shells by the water's edge. Which just happens to be near where the girl is.

Maybe she's a collector like you? You could do with a friend here you think. You could impress her with your vast collection of shells and rocks. Your lips twist into a smile as you walk closer to the grey boulder where the girl hides behind, thinking about how you're going to introduce yourself later. For now, you need those damn seashells. You've only scored a few of them so far and it's the worst collecting day ever. None are even spilling out of your pockets like they usually are.

When you pass the boulder, you're only able to see the girl's face, which is just as pretty as you thought it would be, and her fiddling around with seashells and other beach junk. She doesn't seem to notice you as she smiles to herself and places her things in a neat line that's color-coded. She's cute, you think. Now you have to work 10x harder to come up with an introduction.

You turn back hopefully, half expecting her to be looking right back at you. But you don't see that. All you see are the waves crashing against the rock and a half-hidden scaly purple tail where her feet should be. You stop in your tracks immediately, leaning forward ever so slightly to get a good look at what you think is your imagination playing tricks on you. Blinking furiously, you brush at your eyes just to make sure, but no, what you see is genuinely real. The girl's tail flaps happily as she hums to herself and messes with her beach junk.

"What the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, definitely a little too loudly.

The girl gasps, her tail slapping the water and nearly splashing you as she scoots herself back. She looks at you, frightened and in shock before she dashes away. She's a blurred streak of white and blue as you watch her swim back into the ocean. You try to call out for her, running into the shallow water to see if she's still out here but there's nothing. Did you just witness a real mermaid?! You're frozen in utter surprise, and you only get a hold of yourself and move back to shore when your feet start tingling from the cold. As you walk back, you notice that she left behind her things, and you bend down to look at them.

Holy shit... she had a pearl?! You've been looking for one of these for goddamn years. Do you take it? No, you'd feel bad. But maybe... You glance up sheepishly before slowly slipping it into your grasp and then into your pocket. You're sure she has plenty of pearls. The rest of the stuff is just beach junk minus some shells you already have, but you decide to take all of it back home. Maybe you could return tomorrow and catch her again?

Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

No one says anything about the amount of junk in your hands when you arrive home, and you plop it down by your bed before faceplanting into the pillows that smell like your grandma's perfume. It's not even 6 pm yet and you're tired. You feel like getting some rest... At least sleeping meant you'd be seeing that mermaid girl faster.

When you wake up, you feel something swirling around in your stomach. Something that feels like you're anxiously waiting on something but you can't remember what. The longer you lie in bed, drifting between sleep and consciousness, the feeling gets stronger. You decide to get up and rub your eyes and stretch, washing away the sleep from your body. The smell of breakfast downstairs fills your nostrils and you sit up, tossing your blanket off before planting your feet on the floor.

"Ow, shit!" Something sharp poked your foot. You look down to see the beach junk you brought home yesterday and realize why you felt that strange sensation in your stomach earlier. Okay, maybe you're a little excited to go to the beach today. You really hope the mermaid is there. You'll have to be extra careful if she is since you don't want to scare her off again.

After you scarf down your breakfast and take a shower, you stuff the mermaid's things into a mesh bag and scour through your grandparents' garage to find that old scuba diving gear you know they still have. You've thought it over: if she isn't there, you think you know where she hides out. There's this small island not far from the beach that's perfect for a mermaid to live. You've never been to it, but you've passed by it dozens of times while boating with your dad and grandpa. You hope you're right, but if not, a nice trip to a cave would be nice either way. There are probably more things to collect in there that you've never even thought of.

The trip to the beach feels like the longest walk of your life.

You keep dropping the equipment and some guy tried to buy it off you which took up entirely way too much time of your life.

But you made it. Finally. You walk around a bit to look for her but she's not behind the rock or anywhere in sight. Scuba diving it is. As you finish putting everything on, you feel a little discouraged by the small dot the island makes in the distance, thinking that you might've overestimated your swimming abilities. Whatever. You grab the bag with a small pout and flip-flop into the water, hoping all of this will be worth it.

Turns out this scuba diving stuff is pretty exhausting. You've had to rest your arms and legs by drifting in the water for a few minutes before resuming. And you've been jumpscared by this dolphin a few times. You nearly shit yourself when you saw it first, assuming it was a shark, but it didn't try to attack you or anything. You don't know why it keeps coming back to fuck with you, but it almost looks like it leaves to go tell a friend about it. Fucker.

When you reach the island, you decide to take a 15 minute break for your body's sake. There's a lot more walking ahead and you know you'll thank yourself later.

After you get up and start walking around, observing the trees and nature all around you, you suddenly spot it. The cave. There's no way she isn't in there. You march your way through cobwebs and branches just to reach it but once inside, you're glad for those cuts on your arms and face because goddamn is it beautiful. The water is a cerulean blue and shines brightly in the sun due to the open hole at the top of the cave. You feel a sense of calmness wash over you just from looking at it. The rocky walls of the cave seem almost alive just as you are as the reflection of the water cast shadows upon them. And speaking of the walls, they seem to have markings on them. You walk closer, squinting your eyes to make out what you think are the words S + J. Hm. Maybe this cave is a popular spot for couples?

The more you look around, the more the cave looks lived in. There is some beach junk similar to what you found the girl playing with yesterday placed neatly in a pile in front of a rock. It has a name carved on it.

"Lottie?" you whisper to yourself. Is that the mermaid's name?

"Don't touch it!" Someone hisses.

You let out a choked gasp and turn around, eyes darting all over the cave before you see her. She's in the water with only her eyes above surface level almost like she's hiding from you. They almost seem fully black because of how big and wide they are. You quickly get up and the girl flinches in response. You assume she's going to retreat so you speak up before she can swim away again.

"Wait, I brought you your stuff back." You hold out the bag for her to see and shake it like a human would shake a bag of dog treats to get their dog's attention. "You left it yesterday..."

Slowly, you inch forward and softly place the bag before her. You scoot back to give her some room and wait.

The mermaid eyes you curiously and with some skepticism, but swims forward to swipe the bag from the surface. You watch as she opens the zipper quickly and shuffles through the items with a smile on her face. She looks back up at you when you shift on your feet and pauses before frowning. "Where's the pearl?"

Shit.

You left it at home for yourself.

"Uh, there was no pearl when I found it." you lie, giving her your best confused look. "Must've washed away or something."

She frowns once more and places the bag back on the sandy surface. "Thank you. I like collecting this type of junk. The others say I'm weird for spending so much time by the shore, but I like studying humans."

The others? Studying humans?

"You're welcome. You're Lottie, right? That's your rock?" you nod towards her 'junk' rock.

She confirms with a nod and reveals more of her body as she swims up and places her elbows on the rocks. The bra? Scales? Covering her chest is a magnificent shade of different kinds of purple. Her tail that flutters gently in the water matches it.

"I didn't mean to scare you yesterday," you mention, sitting down in the sand and running your fingers through the grains. "You kinda scared me as well. I've never seen a mermaid before."

"I've never seen a human so up close either. I usually just observe from afar." Lottie replies and puts her chin under her palms. "Why'd you bring my stuff back?"

"Dunno." you shrug. "You collect stuff like me. Thought maybe you'd appreciate it or something..." You trail off at the end, looking down and blushing. "Plus, I thought you were pretty."

Her tail splashes against the water hard at your comment and she clears her throat, feeling embarrassed. "What do you collect?" She's curious, she'll admit it. She's not even supposed to be interacting with humans under any circumstances, but you intrigue her. You don't seem like a threat anyhow.

"Anything. Shells, rocks, fossils, random things I find off the street. I have a whole collection of receipts from when I go out to eat."

"Can you...show me your collection?" she murmurs shyly, removing her face from her palms and nervously tapping her nails against the rocks.

"Sure, but how? I don't think I can make it here again, no offense. It's a hell of a swim." you chuckle, smiling at how her eyes shine brightly after you agree.

"I can help with that. I can bring you back to the beach in seconds!" she exclaims, her voice high and excited. "Or you can piggyback on one of my dolphins."

You barely have time to process what she just said before she speaks again.

"Can you show me right now? Please?"

You feel like everything's happening all at once and don't know how to reply, so you simply nod.

Hey, maybe you can even bring her back the pearl you stole from her. She'd probably like you even more.

lottie taglist: @heliolottie

[utilitycaster]

Idk how to articulate this but in regards to a lot of defense of certain elements of C3 being that they “make sense” in universe, (Ashton becoming indecisive, the party not knowing each other well because of the little passage of time, the party not having stakes in much of things,) it’s always very misguided because something can make sense in universe and still be a really bad writing decision. Especially if you’re trying to respond to an out of universe criticism with in universe logic.

Correct. I think there are two big problems with these arguments. The first, is as you said, the fact that these Doylist critiques (story poorly structure, party lacks investment) are being met with Watsonian defenses (makes sense for the party). We're saying "the party should have been given a reason for investment in the beginning."

The second is, and I've been reluctant to point this out because the bulk of hate I've gotten has been (largely false and frankly idiotic) claims of hypocrisy. But man is a lot of this hypocritical, the defense of Ashton specifically. Like, yes, Ashton is someone who's had a difficult life and frequently had very little power, so the fact that they do have power now isn't something they are used to. However, and this really is the even larger problem, just because a sentient being has a reason for feeling a certain way does not in fact mean that acting on it is excused from criticism. Ashton also learned he contained the shard of a titan only a few weeks ago; why aren't we granting the same "well, it's new, let them process" it to the party's fixation on avenging the titans? Why are we getting this from people who frequently treated Orym as "irrational" and bent on nothing but vengeance for deaths he'd carried for six years and had thought about extensively? Hey, Ludinus is acting from trauma! So is Liliana, according to a lot of these people. If acting from trauma is always valid, then criticism of any of these people is cut off. So clearly, what you do with that trauma matters!

You can feel any way about anything, but how you act matters, and time and time again, a huge number of Bells Hells and Campaign 3 fans have argued that actually it doesn't, and if you've ever had your choices curtailed your lack of agency means you are entitled to do whatever the fuck you want. It extends to themselves as well - doesn't matter if (for example) there's absolutely no indication that Gelvaan's issue with Imogen was homophobia or misogyny and in 118 episodes there hasn't been - if you feel like Imogen's experience is relatable to your real-world one where those were factors then obviously your feelings are right so who cares about like, the facts of the situation! You're new to the campaign! You can't be EXPECTED to LOOK THINGS UP and THINK.

You know what I realized, upon answering this question: I don't know if Ludinus realized that the impact of reaching out to Predathos would be the ruin of Molaesmyr; I don't think he was terribly worried about consequences but I do think it's fair to say "he might have not realized how badly this could go, and was surprised as any by the result". Just someone following a path because they were hurt and traumatized and not thinking things through. We keep talking about how Bells Hells might be remembered as Vespin Chloras, and they might be remembered as such, but Vespin was an arrogant but genuinely competent and even, arguably, well-intentioned person with a clear plan that was ultimately a gross underestimate. I think they're more likely to be just fuck-ups in the dark who could cause mass destruction because they cared far, far more about the hurt they'd received than the world around them.

[waywardangel-wilds]

I don't know why, but the ask you sent me @mollywog disappeared from my drafts??? Anyway, this is to answer that ask: I wish you would write bromance/friendship Peeta and Gale.

"Oh!" Gale throws his hands over his head. "And that's how it's done!"

Peeta watches on, unimpressed, as he absentmindedly texts his girlfriend back: Sorry gonna be home late. Something wrong with Gale.

Katniss's reply is immediate: 😞

"Are you in or you still too chicken shit?" Gale grins, dropping back into the booth across from him to take a long drink from his beer.

"I'm just a better gambler than you." He replies dryly. He looks back at the dartboard briefly while Finnick shoves his way out over Gale to take his turn.

"He's just chicken shit," Finnick adds in, shoving Gale's head out of the way when he doesn't let him out of the booth immediately.

"Thanks for that," Peeta picks up his beer and takes a drink. He turns back to Gale. "So?"

"What?" the other man replies.

"Why am I here?" he asks exasperatedly. "You know I have a job, right? Those things people do? For money? Yeah, not optional for me."

"Ugh, you're such a killjoy." Gale groans throwing his head back against the seat. He's a little drunk. "I don't know, I just wanna hang out, okay?"

"I'm leaving," Peeta stands and yanks his coat on. He's been here for the better part of the night and he still has no idea why Gale made it seem like he was in the middle of a crisis. He's never answering his texts again.

"Wait!" Gale calls after him with a stressed look to him. "Fine. Sit down."

"Madge," he drums his fingers against the table, "is leaving me."

Peeta blinks at him, shocked. Gale and Madge are high school sweethearts. They were going to get married by the end of the summer. Peeta already bought a suit.

"Oh shit," he sits back down. "Are you okay?"

Gale shrugs and takes another drink, his eyes taking on a troubled look. "I'm fine."

"Do you wanna come back to the house? You and Katniss should prob-"

"I'm not gonna talk to Katniss about this." Gale cuts him off, dropping the bottle back to the table with a thump. "She's on her side."

"There's no sides," Peeta shakes his head.

"There are." Gale rolls his eyes. "Girls side with each other."

"Women," Peeta corrects. Gale glares at him. "Sorry, too easy."

Gale groans, dropping his head to his hand.

"Uh, what happened?" Peeta asks. He's never seen Gale so, openly emotional? "Did you guys have a fight? or-"

"We had a fight." Gale interrupts again. "I'm a work-obsessed maniac who doesn't even want to have kids, I'm just marrying her because it's what we're supposed to do. Apparently."

Peeta raises his eyebrows, "that's rough."

"It isn't true!" Gale insists. "I want to get married. And yeah, I care about my job, but so what? I worked hard to get where I am, what am I supposed to do? Fucking-"

"What's going on?" Finnick asks, having returned to their table with another round of beers.

Peeta shoots him a look meanwhile Gale groans and drops his head to his hands again.

"Madge dumped him," Peeta hisses. Finnick's face pales.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry man." Finnick puts the beers down slowly like he's worried they'll explode. "That's-- I'm sorry."

"My ma's gonna kill me," Gale moans miserably.

Peeta smiles involuntarily. "Listen, maybe it's nothing."

"She said she never wanted to see me again!" Gale argues, his eyes like an accusation.

"Yeah but, maybe it was just a fight? You both probably said stuff you didn't mean." Peeta says. "Maybe you both just need to cool off for a bit. Talk it out in the morning."

Gale scoffs, "yeah right."

"No! Come on, we all do it." He looks over at Finnick for some encouragement. Finnick looks at him like he just threw him a hot potato without any prompting. "Right? You and Annie argue all the time, don't you."

Finnick jumps as if physically struck. He looks at Gale's miserable face and blanches. "Uh, yeah. All the time."

"What could you and Annie possibly argue about?" Gale asks derisively.

"Stuff." Finnick shrugs. "You know, whose turn is it to do the laundry, why is Finn saying the f-word so much. Just stuff."

"Wow, tough." Gale rolls his eyes. "Mellark?"

"What?" Peeta looks at Finnick for a lifeline but he just shrugs at him. "Me and Katniss?"

"No, you and your mother. Obviously you and Katniss." Gale bites.

"Um, I don't remember anything specific." He fiddles with the label on his beer. "But yeah, mean stuff sometimes. Like..." he trails off. "Oh right! The other day she called me an idiot."

"Did she actually mean that or was she joking?" Gale asks with disinterest.

Peeta turns sheepish. "Okay, so she didn't mean it, but we really do fight all the time!" He insists. "It's just not that big of a deal! We cool off and move on, which is what you and Madge can do tomorrow."

"Tell me you and Katniss have actually had a real fight in the past year and I'll go." Gale challenges. "I dare you."

Peeta sighs, "Fine." He drums his fingers against the table while Gale's eyes bore into his skull. "We fight about money."

"Money?" Gale asks.

"Oh, that's a tough one." Finnick scratches at his beard. "Annie and I too, before I got the new job. That sucks."

"Yeah," Peeta agrees. "I don't know, we just move on. Katniss doesn't want to feel like she depends on me for anything, but I always tell her that she can, I'm not going anywhere or anything but she's-"

"A pain in the ass?" Gale offers.

"Stubborn,” he corrects. “And independent.”

“That’s married for pain in the ass,” Finnick intercepts.

“Yeah, she can be a pain in the ass,” Peeta admits. “But I love her. So, whatever.” He shrugs. “I just deal with it.”

“Oh, I see.” Gale turns to Finnick. “He just rolls over and takes it.”

“I don’t,” Peeta rolls his eyes.

“I think what Peeta’s trying to say,” Finnick interjects. “Is that sometimes you just gotta deal. Meet in the middle. It’s an argument not a war. At the end of the day you still gotta like each other.”

“I don’t know, I just don’t have the fucking patience, you know?” Gale rubs a hand through his hair. “I just- I get all defensive and… I guess I’d just rather hurt her before she hurts me?”

“That’s really unhealthy,” Finnick says. “Just so you know.”

“If you want to get married you have to stop thinking about her as someone who’s gonna up and leave,” Peeta adds.

“What are you talking about? You’re not even engaged.” Gale snaps.

“Well…” Peeta trails off, playing with the beer label. “I asked.”

“What?” Gale snaps.

“Congratulations!” Finnick exclaims at virtually the same time, slapping Peeta’s shoulder. “That’s huge!”

“She said no,” Gale reads his expression.

“She said she’d ‘think’ about it.” He corrects, still playing with the bottle. “She’s not ready.” He shrugs.

“Oh,” Finnick whispers awkwardly.

“What?” Gale frowns. “That’s stupid. Does she think she can do better? She can be such a fucking idiot-“

“Okay, don’t talk about her like that,” Peeta interrupts. “She’s allowed to say no, okay?”

“And you’re just okay with this?” Gale stares at him like he’s insane.

“We’re not going to break up over it, if that’s what you’re asking.” He snaps. “I knew what I was getting into when I got involved with Katniss Everdeen, alright?”

“Damn,” Gales leans back against the booth.

“So yeah,” Peeta’s voice calms. He lays his hands on the table. “Come on, you can sleep on my couch and call Madge in the morning.”

Finnick puts a hand on his shoulder, “it’ll all work out.” The older man smiles at him.

“Thanks,” Peeta says with some annoyance. He stands. “Gale?”

“Fine,” his friend grumbles, yanking on his coat upside down. “But I don’t wanna deal with your girlfriend, keep her away from me.”

“I’m sure your beloved cousin wants nothing to do with you either,” Peeta replies dryly.

[phightingheadcanons]

i compiled a bunch of subspace and medkit headcanons because they plague me. they plague me. they anyways . uhjjmmm subspace headcanons r. im not gonna lie i got some of these from deadplate. but. THERES!! a lot of these. be prepared 1. I don't think he can eat properly. Not only because of the rot, but because not being able to taste things irks him, so he has to make a smoothie out of it 2. I thuuink i think he already. was struggling with an ED before the disaster. and not being able to taste/the rot makes it. way worse 3. I think! I think he has bipolar and audhd. 4. He keeps his hair short on the side of the rot so it doesn't irritate it 5. hes. extremely touchy. not to be affectionate. he's just always in peoples personal space 6. Often chews on his fingernails and/or picks at his skin. bad habit of his methinks 7. i think he listens to like. metal. specifically freak on a leash and rotting in vain by korn really reminds me of him 8. scarring and burns. like. everywhere. coupled with the rot obviously. i think in his line of work he gets injuries pretty easily even when trying to be careful 9. EXTREMELY tone deaf. but also sometimes ignores social cues on purpose because he knows it annoys people 10. hates the rain. he hates the sound of it. he hates the water. it ruins his day. heres medkits ... 1. Also can't eat very well but its mostly from. after the disaster. he completely lost his appetite and also lost a lot of weight just because it was. really hard for him to find the energy to even get up let alone eat 2. generally kind of. not able to take care of himself very well. even if he can take care of others 3. extremely depressed. like. really bad seasonal depression + chronic (it gets worse when he sees snow though. reminds him of blackrock) 4. during his blackrock days he would straighten his hair. he can't afford to do that now though because its too expensive + too much energy 5. god AWFUL doctors handwriting. scythe hates it. nobody can fucking read it except for medkit 6. He has generalized anxiety, depression, and PTSD, as well as autism 7. hates being touched except for in very specific situations. he also hates being close (physically) to people 8. adding onto the last one, he HATES when people touch his back or his shoulders. IMMEDIATE fight or flight response 9. extremely bad posture. shrimp posture. im telling u 10. painted his horns teal because they were originally green. he doesn't like the color green very much. nor does he like that pinkish-red color (reminds him of subspace) 11. (somewhat canon? not the indie part) usually likes classical music. sometimes dabbles in indie music. he's not into the loud shit 12. violin and piano player .... 13. tried to sand down his fangs at one point. why? i dont know! 14. his sarcasm is crazy. if he's not being sarcastic its not him 15. loves the rain. he likes the quiet and being alone but when it's deathly silent it spikes his anxiety. so the background noise is nice. it also means he has an excuse to stay inside AND!! combined headcanons. things i have that i hc for. both of them 1. both of them have hand tremors. subspace's are a little worse though 2. even though they both have separated (and medkit really tries to stay away) they both still have habits that they got used to from being around the other. medkit still makes extra of things by accident because subspace would always steal it. subspace still keeps a blanket in the lab because medkit would always fall asleep at the desk. i could keep going on im so serious. they are so horribly intertwined in the worst way possible and even if they hate each other that red string is still there. its still there. do u get it. in this essay i will- anyways! thats it for today. sorry guys i needed to YAP

"Looking. Respectfully. Peak as always. This fits them so well that I can't even explain. I would yap more, but I'm tired, and my shoulder hurts from a shot I had recently, so another time TwT"