#good for him or sorry that happened I guess

[syluriar]

please...help me - sylus x mc!reader. part 2

sypnosis: the aftermath of caleb catching you on the phone to escape him.

a/n: part 2 is finally here!! i apologise that this took me awhile, i just wanted this chapter to be right and i feel good about it now. there will be a part 3 to this, not sure about part 4 but we'll see how this goes.

warnings: some angst but with comfort. caleb being possessive and genually confused why you want to leave. mc (you) finally letting your fustrations out. sylus appears. caleb gets punched :) not for caleb girlies (sorry!)

word count: 3091 (insert spongebob exhausted meme)

taglist: @eternityjune @swissschees3 @notomyrr @jilly-xox7 @mizunareader @monticarlo @leiakitty @wiiieeeeeee @lynnaredfield3383 @idrkgurr @cms399 @ladycrown109 @capribun @crimsonlittlecrow @bi-goth-energy @rik0shii @letharue @sylusjinxedpaw @mcdepressed290 @kaeyasfuturewife @magicatemyvanishingdreams @deethedolly @beautifulthingsiadore @katykibbs @futuristicdefendorfart @qinluna @lemonn015 @magpie-the-goblin-girl @beewilko @thechaoticarchivist @aikonecrosis @gianchan-de @gamergirl31201 i think that's everyone? i apologise if i forget to tag you, there was a lot of people who wanted to be tagged which makes me fell so happy - thank u!!

When was the last time you ever felt this scared?

Perhaps your first time facing a real Wanderer? That time you had a creep not taking no for an answer when you were alone in a nightclub? Or maybe that time where you were walking alone and came across a thief with a weapon? 

But you had overcome them. The Wanderer died by your pistols, the creep getting punched in the face by your fists and thrown out by security, and the thief getting it’s weapon knocked out of it’s hand by you and arrested by the police moments later. 

The adrenaline that had rushed through you pushed it all away within those moments, and it was only after you had reflected on the experience that almost had you buckle your knees and grab the nearest thing to keep you standing, your heart bounding and your thoughts and absolute mess. It had taken you a while to calm down and look back on those moments without fear, and instead of what you had accomplished.

Unlike right now.

“Still not talking?”

You hadn’t spoken a word to Caleb after he caught you ending the call with Sylus, begging him to come and save you from the man you once felt safe and secure with. 

The tracker on your wrist reminds you of anything but those feelings and more.

Caleb sighs from his seated position in the kitchen and stands, the sound of his footsteps getting closer to you fills you with dread. He seats himself on the edge of the coffee table in front of you and you instantly move back so his feet don’t touch you, your eyes finding a spot on the floor to stare at.

He chuckles. “You won't even look at me, how mean of you.”

Retorts sit on your tongue that you hold still. Your already deep in trouble, you don’t want to know what will happen if you fall more. 

By the corner of your eyes you see him angle his head to try and catch your eyes, but you look away quickly. What would you see in them? Pity? Annoyance? Anger? Even if it was soft, you wouldn’t fall for it, your not that naive anymore.

You gasp as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, his told had a certain tightness to it that could choke you in seconds - you wouldn’t put it past him to do it, though it still scares you to know that.

“There we go.” He smiles, and everything about it screams it’s not the one from the past, the warm one you remember. “Now all that's left is for you to talk, but since you won’t do that, I guess I have to play a little guessing game.”

It doesn’t matter, you think. He can guess all he likes and you won’t answer him. Let’s see how he likes to be the one ignored now.

“Now who would you be calling at this hour when everyone is asleep, like you should have been.” There’s a mocking tone in his voice that makes you want to punch him. It should have made you worried about doing such a thing to someone you saw as a friend, but all you saw in front of you was a creature that enjoyed your torture. 

“It can’t be your dear Dr. Zayne, he’s too busy and has things far too important then calling you.”

It hurt you a little to hear Caleb talking about Zayne like that, the three of you had a good friendship growing up, it had amused you of the little arguments they would get into. You knew that no matter what happened you would always have them to fall back on and pick you back up. Zayne had greatly helped you ever since you thought Caleb had died, and the thought of the three of you being back together made your heart warm when you found Caleb again. 

How unfortunate that wouldn’t happen.

“Someone the Hunters Association? Hmmm possibly. But who exactly?” Caleb tapped his chin with his other hand, your chin still firmly held by his other that it was starting to ache. “No one there can come in here and sneak you out without anyone onboard knowing, even if a team banded together. So let’s rule that out.”

He clearly underestimated your Association. You might not know everyone there, but the only reason those people have been made Hunters is because they have the power to do so, they’ve all been through the hard training it takes and passed. You remember all the training you had to do and your sure Caleb does too, as you had called him after sessions, complaining about it all and the aches and bruises on your body.

“You keep complaining about it but I never hear you say that you’re gonna leave.”

“Of course I'm not! Quitting would mean that I’m not cut out to be a Hunte. You’ve said I am so many times, do you not think it anymore?”

“Not at all. I believe in you more than anyone that you’ll pass, and become the world's greatest Hunter.”

“Ok, not that much Caleb.”

He laughed then, full of warmth and joy. “Just keep going Pip-squeak, and before you know it, you’ve passed and got your license. Just don’t forget about me when you're off saving everyone from Wanderers, ok?” 

Does he still believe in you now? Do you even want to know? You’re still surprised he hasn’t told you to leave them and just stay with him.

“I guess that only leaves one other place.” He muses, and you feel like he’s close to the answer.

Just don’t react. Don’t let him know.

“But would you really call someone from there? And who? There’s not many good people in the N109 Zone.”

Your face remains neutral as Caleb scans it for any signs and frowns when there isn’t any. You hide your pride at this, though it probably thanks to him that your learning to mask your emotions well.

“Actually, scratch that, there’s no good people in that place. Illegal dealings and filled with violence and crime, there no better than Wanderers. Infact, I bet they’re worse than Wanderers. At least those creatures were someone innocent before turning, people in the N109 Zone have been black-hearted since the start. Like true monsters.”

You swing your cuffed wrists to smack him but they’re quickly caught in his free hand, a smirk now dancing on his lips. 

“Oh, it seems like I hit a spot. So your trip to the N109 Zone did have you in contact with someone there.” He pulls you forward by your wrists, noses just barely touching. His voice was laced with demand. “Who?”

A grunt falls from your lips as you try and pull your wrists back, but Caleb’s hold on them is strong.

It tightens.

“Who?”

You stop and look at him, his eyes so dim you wonder if they’ve truly turned black. You can see anything in them other than dark feelings that create goosebumps on your skin.

You swallow, a bit of courage coming to your throat. “I guess that’s round two of your guessing game.”

A thick silence hangs in the air and your ears pick up noises you don’t remember registering. The ticking of the clock on the wall, the sound of cars driving outside and the pitter patter of rain softly hitting the windows. Mixed with Caleb before you, it was starting to become stimulating, and you pray that Sylus will be here soon.

Caleb’s frown deepens. “Why do you want to go to him, hmm? Skyhaven is much more safer and secure then the N109 Zone.” 

“I have never feared more for my life than staying here.” You reply. To hell with staying silent, that’s what you’ve done more than anything since you’ve been here. You let Caleb have his way, let him ramble on and on and speak badly about a place - about a man you wanted to go back to more than anything.

You’re done with it.

“What can he possibly give you that I can’t?” He’s not glaring but close, he’s looking at you as if he just can’t phantom the idea of you wanting to leave. “How can you want to go to him when I’m right here?”

“Because he would never treat me this way!” You scream, and the look of shock on his face makes you keep going. “He’s never locked me in and he lets me have my freedom with no complaints or bargains. He never punishes me and never makes me feel afraid of him. He’s someone who treats me like I’m someone, not a possession. He's someone I can trust and go to without fear.” Your breathing heavily, the words keep coming out and your not stopping them, too fed up with the man infront of you. “He’s the opposite of you Caleb, and as soon as he comes here I’m going with him, and you can’t stop me.”

You didn’t realise you had stood up until you saw Caleb’s eye move to look up at you, for once you had gotten power over him, had made him look at you and made him speechless. 

Adrenaline runs through your body and you know you can’t let it go, no matter what happens next.

So when the look of shock vanishes over Caleb’s face and is replaced with a glare, you lock in and quickly pull your still bound wrists free from his hold, keeping them close to your chest. When he stands you step away instantly, creating space between the two of you. 

“And what makes you think I’ll let you leave?” His voice drips with venom. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before and almost falters you.

“Because she’s her own person.” a voice breaks out, one that’s so familiar that it makes your heart race. “Because she has the right to her own freedom.”

Both of you turn to the door that’s now locked behind a tall and imposing figure, his white hair gleaming in the ceiling lights. 

“Because she wants to.” 

He steps forward and the light shines on his face, that handsome face of your saviour. “Oh, and because I’m here to help her, isn’t that right, sweetie?” His gleaming red eyes fall on you, and you smile, hope filling you. 

“Sylus…”

Caleb sucks through his teeth, irritation clear all over his face. “How did you get in unnoticed? Every member had been alerted that you would be coming.”

Sylus shrugs nonchalantly, confidence oozing off him. “And despite that I didn’t get much of a welcome party. Your fleet needs more training.” 

The comment only makes Caleb’s irritation grow, and it brings some satisfaction to you. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m taking Miss Hunter home.”

Home. The word makes your heart swell. 

“She’s not going anywhere, especially not with you.” Caleb straightens and you feel his Evol approaching, it causes goosebumps on your skin once again and you instantly look at Sylus, who just looks bored.

“Seems like you need hearing lessons as well.” His own Evol floating around his fists, ready to release.

You knew there was going to be a fight once Sylus showed up, he would avoid it if he could if that’s what you wanted, but Caleb wouldn’t let you go without a fight. Even if Caleb hadn’t caught you and you managed to sneak past him with Sylus, he would only come and get you himself and cause a ruckus wherever you went to get you back. He would see it as you being kidnapped and brainwashed to turn against him.

Caleb needs to know that you want to leave on your own free will, and not just with words. The fact that you called for help should have already planted that seed somewhere in his head.

“Stop it Caleb. Let me go.” 

He turns to you, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

You stand straight, your voice calm as you speak. “I want to leave, right here, right now. So let me go.”

He stares at you, teeth gritted and brows furrowed, but his eyes are scanning you, hoping to find something he can use to make you stay, to blind himself that this isn’t your free choice of will. But he can’t find any, and his irritation and confusion grows. “Why? Why do you want to leave me? I thought after everything we’ve been through, you’d want to stay with me forever.”

And you had wanted that too. 

“I had never felt such relief when I found Caleb alive.” You tell him with a soft voice, the painful memories all coming back. “I spent night’s crying because I thought you were dead, days went past in a blur and I was always reminded to eat even the smallest thing because my mind wouldn’t register the simplest things that my body needed. All I could think about was you.” 

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes but you didn’t care to wipe them away, with showing Caleb your true emotions, you hope that he’ll finally understand. “Time passed and it got a little easier, but I still thought about you. I didn’t even think I would meet you here…and yet I did. I was so happy Caleb, I thought things would go back the way they were before. Always laughing and joking around, having you by my side to comfort me and give me strength…but you’ve done the exact opposite.”

Confidence flows through your veins as you take a step towards him, his figure still but has lost it’s tension. Your getting through to him. “The things I said before, about me being afraid of you, it’s all true. You keep me locked up and take away my things. You don’t let me have my freedom and even tell me when to go to sleep like I’m a child. It honestly scares me that you can’t see that your hurting me, hurting me so much that I want to escape from you.”

“I didn’t…” His aura falters, the dark and imposing man has been replaced with disbelief and confusion. “I never want you to be afraid of me, I didn’t do all those things to scare you. I want to protect you.”

“Was giving me medicine with the intention of me falling asleep protecting me?” You spat back, the memory of it still causing a shiver of unease down your spine. “I’m a Hunter Caleb, I don’t need this kind of protection. You said that you believed in me when I was doing my exams, but it looks like I’m weak to you.”

“You’re not! That’s…That’s not what I think!”

“I don’t care what you think anymore Caleb, except for the fact that I want to leave SkyHaven and I want to leave you of my own free will. That’s my choice Caleb.”

A noise leaves Caleb’s lips, something frustrated and perhaps sad. You don’t fully understand it but right now you don’t care. You take another step towards him, close enough to touch his chest if you reach out. 

You show him your bound wrists. “Take these off…please.”

He looks down at them, thousands of emotions dance through his eyes that you can’t decipher, but he waves a hand over them and you hear a click before the cuffs fall on the floor.

“Thank you Caleb…and I’m sorry.”

Before he can even respond you punch him square in the face, his body falling to the ground instantly, knocked out.

Whoops.

The slow clapping of hands erases the tense atmosphere from the room.

“An excellent performance, kitten.” Sylus smirks as he walks over. “You had him in your grasp and took matters into your own hands, just like I knew you could.”

There was something about his praise that brightens you, maybe it’s because you know he’s saying it sincerely that has your stomach filled with butterflies. You fight back the smile that threatens your lips. “I didn’t mean to knock him out..”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, sweetie. You still wanted to punch him, not that I blame you.” His eyes scan over the unconscious body of your ex best friend, frowning at the sight. “I wanted to get some in.”

“You would have killed him then.” You commented, and despite everything Caleb has put you through, you didn’t want him dead - for real this time. “I don’t think the fleet would be too happy about that.”

“I don’t mind making a few more enemies, especially the ones that hurt you.” 

Air catches in your throat as Sylus turns back at you, his eyes looking at you softly. “Are you alright?”

Maybe it was because it was said so gently, full of comfort and genuineness, laced with true worry. that has you tearing up once more. “I want to go home Sylus.”

He gathers you in his arms, holding you close to his chest that you feel his warmth that engulfs you, bringing a sense of calm to your body. “It’s ok. I’m here, and I’m taking you home.” He lifts you in his arms that you don’t protest, you don’t ever want to leave his safe arms ever again. “Luke and Kieran have cleaned your apartment ready for you to come back.”

“No Sylus,” You croak against his neck, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. Apart from Skyhaven your apartment is the last place you want to be right now, there’s no sense of security that will calm you if you return back there. 

There’s only one place you want to be.

That mansion that started out cold that is now warm with your touches; the plushies on the sofa and the blankets on the bed. The fairy lights in his study and the colourful mugs in his kitchen, your skincare and make-up products sitting neatly in his bathroom cabinet and the photobooth pictures hanging by the vanity he had bought you.

“Take us home.”

He looks at you then, surprise written across his face that it almost makes you giggle. You never really called it home to his face, even with your things scattered across the building. 

Sylus smiles, it’s not the one his enemies see or the ones the twins get when they’ve pulled a prank. It’s a smile only reserved for you, and it shines brighter than any star you have ever seen.

“Alright, sweetie. Let’s go home.”

[lazysoulwriter]

a little too close. - drew starkey.

She loved her job. Working as a costume designer meant she got to be around some of the most talented actors in the industry, creating pieces that would bring their characters to life. It was creative, exciting, and full of challenges—just the way she liked it.

But what she hadn’t accounted for was Drew Starkey walking into her fitting room and throwing her entire sense of professionalism out the window.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the studio lights above. It was the first fitting, and Drew stood there, shirt off, in nothing but his jeans and a nervous smile. He couldn’t deny the growing tension as she stood there, her measuring tape in hand, eyeing him closely. The air was thick, and he could feel every inch of the space between them.

“Okay, this might feel a little... weird,” she said, clearing her throat as she adjusted her posture, the tape slipping between her fingers. Drew swallowed, trying to focus on the task at hand. But every time she moved closer to take his measurements, his body betrayed him. The way her fingers grazed his skin, the way she gently tugged at the waistband of his jeans—it was enough to make him lose his composure.

“Sorry if I’m making this awkward,” he said with a laugh, trying to ease the tension.

But she didn’t laugh back. Instead, her eyes flicked up to his, locking for a brief, electrifying moment. She tilted her head slightly, biting her lip as she measured around his shoulders. “It’s fine. Just... stay still,” she replied, voice a little lower than usual.

Drew couldn’t help but notice how her breath seemed to catch every time she leaned in a little too close. It felt like the space between them was shrinking, and the more they tried to pretend it wasn’t there, the more it consumed them.

A week later, the second fitting arrived. Drew had been looking forward to it. Not because of the costume—he was already used to wearing whatever the costume department picked out—but because he couldn’t get that first moment with her out of his mind. He couldn’t tell if it was just the chemistry of the job or something more, but every time he thought about it, his heart picked up its pace.

When he walked into the room, she was already there, the same measuring tape in hand, but this time there was something different about the way they interacted. Less formality, more... ease.

“Here we go again,” Drew said with a grin, taking his shirt off in one swift movement.

She glanced up, her eyes quickly scanning him before her lips curled into a playful smile. “This should be fun.”

The tension from the first fitting was still there, but this time it felt different, lighter—more like an unspoken promise than an awkward mistake.

“So, tell me about your character,” she asked as she adjusted his pants, bending down slightly to fix the hem. Drew, feeling particularly bold, leaned closer.

“Let’s just say, he’s a lot like me—charming, confident, and... very good looking,” he replied, his voice oozing with a playful arrogance. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“You sure about that?” she teased, standing up and looking him over. “I think you might have a little competition.”

Before he could ask what she meant, she stepped in a little too close for comfort, making it impossible for him to ignore the way their bodies seemed to align. His heart skipped a beat.

“I think you’re right,” he muttered, lowering his gaze. He wasn’t sure who moved first—whether it was him leaning in, or her meeting him halfway—but the next thing he knew, his lips were on hers, soft and eager, the kiss charged with months of unspoken tension.

When they pulled away, both breathless, Drew ran a hand through his hair, his grin impossible to hide. “Well, I guess that wasn’t too bad.”

She chuckled, taking a step back, trying to act like nothing happened. “I’m going to call that... a wardrobe malfunction,” she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.

The third fitting came, and Drew found himself anxiously awaiting their next encounter. The spark between them was undeniable now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his cool. When he walked into the room, she was there, looking as effortlessly stunning as always, her hands busy with fabric, but her eyes lighting up when she saw him.

“You’re early,” she said, glancing at the clock.

“I couldn’t wait to see you,” he said, his voice low, a flirty edge to it.

She raised an eyebrow, but the smile that followed was anything but innocent. “Careful, or you might end up getting in trouble.”

“You like trouble,” he shot back, his gaze locked on hers, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

And before she could say anything more, he closed the distance between them. His lips found hers again, this time more urgent, more desperate, as if neither of them could resist any longer. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, his heart racing with the anticipation of something they both knew was inevitable.

When they finally broke apart, her breath coming in soft gasps, he cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing her skin. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he whispered.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she replied, her voice almost teasing.

“I was thinking maybe... we could grab dinner after this?” he asked, his gaze flicking down to her lips before meeting her eyes again.

She smiled, the playful glint in her eyes never leaving. “I think that sounds like a good idea,” she said, her fingers grazing his arm as she stepped back to adjust his jacket.

Later that night, as they sat across from each other at a dimly lit restaurant, their chemistry was undeniable. The flirty banter continued, the attraction only growing stronger with every passing minute.

When Drew leaned in to kiss her once more, the world seemed to stop—just for a moment, as if nothing else mattered but the two of them. And as they pulled away, both breathless and smiling, they knew that this was just the beginning.

[matchpointfaist]

college best friend! art x reader °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

three days passed after the party, after the kiss, and art didn’t so much as text, call, or reach out in any way. you were hurt, confused, slightly anxious at the loss of contact, but more than anything, you missed him.

you missed his stupid jokes and the way he smiled like you were the funniest, most brilliant person in the room. the way his arms lingered when he hugged you goodnight, the way he rambled on and on about tennis and potential matches and probability for going pro next year. the way he’d sit patiently while you studied or read, even though you knew he was bursting at the seams to do anything but study. you missed your best friend, plain and simple, and you hoped that he missed you too.

his long awaited breach of silence finally came on the fourth day, early that morning, around the time you were sure he was getting ready for his morning job. it was simple, to the point, a text that quickened your heart rate unreasonably so; ‘can i come over later? miss you.’

‘of course you can.’ you replied in an instant, already making space on your bed for him to lounge, subconsciously making sure you looked okay, that your sleep deprivation and worry weren’t broadcasted too clearly on your face.

he was there thirty minutes later, a soft knock at the door pulling you from your thoughts, jarring you and exciting you far more than it should’ve. “coming!” you called, straightening out your clothes before pulling the door open, fighting a sigh of relief at the sight of him.

four days was the longest you’d gone without seeing him since the two of you met, which seemed sort of pathetic to think of, but you’d grown accustomed to spending all your free time with him. “hi,” he smiled, less enthusiastic than usual, but a smile nonetheless, “can i come in?”

as if nothing happened, the two of you sat on your bed, and you tried not to let your eyes linger too long on his lips; your mind wandering to the way they’d felt on yours.

“i guess i should apologize,” he broke the silence that had settled over the room hesitantly, “i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking first. we were drunk, and i was an idiot, and i’m so sorry, and you can be mad at me but i miss you, and,”

you cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head, “shut up, art. don’t be sorry, okay? it was sweet, it was-“ your cheeks flushed, “it was good, i promise. i miss you too,” he blinked in surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face, and it struck you then that you’d do anything to keep him this way. happy, awestruck, content.

“it was good?” he asked softly, like he was afraid if you repeated it you’d change your mind, “i could- i mean, we could kiss again, if you wanted, i just didn’t wanna assume, and i didn’t wanna overstep,”

this time, you cut him off with your lips over his, just as he’d done at the party. he tensed, ever so briefly, before melting into you, kissing you and smiling against your lips and tracing his fingers up your spine, pulling you into him and warming you so thoroughly you were certain you’d never felt anything like it.

you settled in his lap, curling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him until you were breathless, until you had to pause and rest your forehead against his, giggling slightly, giddy on affection.

“i’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he exhaled with a soft, breathy laugh, “you really have no idea, i- i’ve thought of you, like this, for so long,” “yeah?” you kissed him again, unable to hold yourself back, hoping you could show him that you felt the exact same way.

it was cliche, falling for your best friend. it was reckless and silly and so unbearably young of you, but you didn’t care. with art, it felt like you’d known him all your life. maybe even before that, in some alternate past life, maybe you’d been in love with him before your souls were even in these bodies, here in this dorm room. the statistical probability of meeting him, out of everyone in this world, was so slim, but you truly couldn’t fathom feeling this way for anyone else.

no one could come close to him, you were sure of it. he made you feel so alive and so at ease, so completely certain of yourself, so confident that this was the right thing to do. you’d never felt anything more right than kissing him, actually. it was like all the little pieces fell into place, and suddenly you knew exactly what to do, exactly where to place your hands, exactly how to move against him.

his hands made their way up the back of your shirt, tucked underneath the material, hot and smooth against your skin as you kissed him, and you were startled as a soft moan passed from your lips to his as his hand brushed a particularly tender spot on your shoulders, leaving chills on the delicate skin.

he smiled against you, pulling away to look at you from his seat underneath you, his eyes wide and admiring. “do you want me to stop?” he asked almost timidly, “we don’t have to do anything else,”

“wanna do this,” you said without a second thought, pausing to pull your shirt over your head, shivering slightly in your bralette. his cheeks reddened, and you felt him stiffen beneath you, hard between your thighs. “you’re so beautiful,” he exhaled, gently reaching out to trace over your ribs and chest, so featherlight and tender it almost brought tears to your eyes.

it was quicker after that, all of your clothes in a pile on your floor, pulled off between breathless kisses and murmurs of admiration from the both of you. art was all muscle under his shirt, his chest rippling with movement, and you were reminded of just how strong he really was as he picked you up, repositioning the two of you and laying between your thighs, kissing you from this new position with a power he didn’t have before.

“art,” you mumbled against his lips, pulling at his hair gently, “d’you want me on top?” his breath visibly faltered, and he looked you over, his eyes dark as he took in the sight of you laid out beneath him. “want you however you feel best,” he said quietly, pressing a warm kiss to your chest, and you sat up as you heard him laugh, felt the hot exhale of his breath against you.

“what?” you asked, suddenly self conscious, crossing your arms over your bare chest, and his eyes widened at the motion, like he was confused. “oh, no- i just, i can’t believe we’re doing this,” he smiled, gently pulling your arms down, kissing your cheek, “can’t believe i finally have you,”

he kept kissing you as he moved closer between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit with an unsteady hesitation, but he relaxed as you hummed in pleasure, your eyes falling closed. “feels good,” you murmured, tilting your head up to kiss his neck, arching into his touch, “god, art, that’s really good,”

only a few minutes and he had you practically writhing beneath him, whimpering and moaning and suddenly so embarrassingly desperate in a way that a man had never had you before. after he was sure that you were comfortable, that you were ready, he rested the palm of one hand on your cheek as he slid into you, his face all hazy with pleasure, a quiet groan leaving his swollen lips.

“oh my god,” he buried his face in your neck, resting his hand on your hip to hold you tight to him as he fucked you, and you were acutely aware of the way he shook like he was holding himself back.

you were a mess of breathless moans and messy kisses, your hands in his hair and his hands on every inch of your skin and taking pauses just to look at each other, to take in the beautiful simplicity of this; this, between you, this love that had been growing for months that you’d both been too shy or scared of just plain stupid to admit.

he made you come before he’d let himself finish, his mouth swallowing your moans as you trembled around him, digging your nails into his toned back as he fucked you through it, panting against your neck and praising you so softly you thought maybe he wasn’t even doing it for your benefit.

when he finished, your name spilled from his lips in a broken moan, and you wished you could capture it forever, play it on repeat whenever the mood struck. he was so doting after, cleaning you up gently, kissing you and taking breaks to laugh, to smile with the sort of giddiness you’d only seen on him after he won a match.

you fell asleep there, despite you both having classes that day, too caught up in the serenity of it all to leave your dorm room. when you woke up from your nap, art was still there, his expression peaceful as he lay curled up in your pink bedsheets, your stuffed bear under his arm. when he finally woke up, he laid in your lap as you read the study material for the class you both missed. later that night, he fucked you again, taking his time and kissing every inch of you, his movements so slow and careful that it warmed you all over. you knew you loved him far before that, but it finally came from your lips as you came undone for the second time, and when you both calmed down, he made you say it again just to make sure you meant it.

and oh god, you did.

[nottsangel]

no thoughts, head empty, pussy on max. just stepbro! theo hearing you masturbating in your room one afternoon.

after you and your mom moved in with theo and his dad, the two parents had the brilliant idea of giving you the room RIIIIIIGHT next to theo "for the kids to bond and get closer". that led to a lot of fighting between the two of you actually, with theo bursting into your room to yell at you to stop chatting with your friends so loudly over the phone, or with you banging on the walls for theo to turn the volume of his wack ass music down. and so on and so forth.

this, however, was the first time theo has been woken up from his (quite rare) afternoon naps by a strange sound. he was still sleepy and, at first, he completely forgot the room besides his was occupied. then he heard whimpers and slow moans, the fretting of a body on bedsheets, the frustrated groan of a woman... low vibrations and wet squelching noises.

his cock recognised the situation before his brain did, sprouting to live in an instant: his little stepsis was touching herself and, by the sound of it, she was sure no one else was home. oh, but he was there. now, all his sleepiness went away, his eyes wide open, his hand clamming at the band of his sweatpants to touch himself to her sounds. he was such a pervert for listening in, yet he moved closer to the wall he was sharing with her and slipped his hand in his boxers.

closing his eyes, he tried to feel her movement. was she stimulating her clit with that buzzing vibrator? was she also fingering herself? by the wet sounds coming from her room, theo could guess she was. how many fingers was she using? eh, doesn't matter, it would still be a smaller size than his. she wasn't that fast either, he could hear the frustrated groans even through the wall. should he be a good older brother and give her a hand?

no, she has been pissing him off lately, being a total brat and acting all high and might with him. he will make use of the situation and get himself off, then enjoy her frustrated little whimpers. "yeah, a great plan!" he thinks as he speeds up his pace, jerking himself off with more energy now. the sounds were of great help, but his imagination... just closing his eyes and picturing her face, all frustrated and stained with tears, begging him to help her out and finger the fuck out of that greedy pussy.

but then an unexpected thing happened and his fantasy is shattered in an instant. her vibrator died and a wave of curses came together with its downfall. guess that's his cue to act like a knight in shining armour and make his bratty little stepsis cum, huh?

yeah, he should. and maybe he will get her so overstimulated that he will make his fantasy really and she will cry those dreamy tears for him.

- 🍯 anon (going crazy, sorry)

OH MY GODDJSJDJJD I FINALLY HAD THE TIME TO READ THIS AND HELLOOO ???????? DID U REALLY HAVE TO KILL ME LIKE THIS

“should he be a good older brother and give her a hand?” sjdjejdkdjdjsjdrjdjdids i really thought i had my horniness under control but no! of course not when my sweet big brained honey anon is in my inbox !!!!!!!!!!!

[luulapants]

I've been trying to come up with a moral or a headline to wrap around this story, but I just gotta say it.

One of my cousins fell in with a bad crowd in his 30s. Violent, racist, sexist shitbags that call themselves a club but operate like a cult with fucked up initiation rituals and constant monitoring to make sure everyone is toeing the ideological line. He did and said a lot of fucked up stuff, because that's required by groups like this, because it's how they make sure you get exiled by everyone else in your life.

But his dad, my uncle, he was a stubborn old bastard who had seen some shit, and he wasn't going to lose his son. He decided to get him out, no matter how long it took. He told his son that he didn't approve of his actions or beliefs, but he never tried to argue, never bought into the debate. He made sure my cousin knew he was loved and would have help to get out when he was ready. Sure enough, my cousin got himself in legal trouble, called his dad, and said, "Get me out."

My uncle's number one requirement was therapy. He found someone who specialized in cult survivors, and he drove his adult son to every session. They did family counseling. He helped him make the life changes he needed to stay away. My uncle was fully committed to getting his son back with love and attention and patience and without an ounce of judgment.

The first family gathering my cousin came to after years on the outs, he would start to say something fucked about vaccines or the government, then something amazing would happen: he'd stop himself. He'd say something like, "Sorry, that's just something someone told me, but that doesn't mean it's right." The whole family agreed with each other that we were not to scold or shame him for saying those things. We could correct him if he didn't correct himself, but we had to do it gently and with love.

My uncle died, and my cousin backslid pretty hard. He had a lot of other bad shit going on in his life, and he'd lost his main pillar of support. He felt alone. We found out at the funeral that he was back in his gang, and the family knew what my uncle would want us to do. We showered him in love and we made him feel less alone. At one point, someone said, "I'm so happy you're here," and he burst into tears.

Me and this cousin were never close before. He's a lot older than me - he was friends with my brother (who died), not me. I didn't even have his number until the funeral, but now we're texting regularly. He left the gang again. He's back in therapy. He's ready to do the hard work. Every conversation ends with 'I love you.'

I guess - you can cut off everyone in your life who falls into hateful ideology, that's a choice you can make. It doesn't reduce the number of extremists in the world, though. It also doesn't feel anywhere near as good as helping to save them.

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 122

falling back into a routine with jack was easier than you had expected.

you'd spend the nights at his place, or he would spend them at yours, without feeling like much had changed. if you couldn't fall asleep in each other's arms, then at least you could facetime until sleep took over. and now that you have heard from him every day, you can't fathom how you could have ever ignored him.

it wasn't completely as if nothing had happened; you were a bit more on edge, and your mind had a habit of flickering back to your argument those weeks ago. but instead of letting it consume you, you tried your best to move past it, to accept the fact that it happened, but also understand the fact that it didn't have to mean too much. that you can both grow stronger from it, instead of let it break you down.

it was difficult at first, though. jack's concussion was still present in the room whenever you met with him, despite the fact that he assured you that he was feeling much better. he wasn't allowed to get back on the ice just yet – that's how severe it had been – but he was definitely improving. you knew he still had headaches, even though he tried to tell you that they were completely gone, plus he was a little bit slower and had a harder time multitasking than usual.

this, combined with the fact that he already couldn't cook before his injury, was not exactly a recipe for success for your date tonight.

you were supposed to cook the same dish as the first time he made dinner for you, but this time, he would not allow you to interfere. he had invited you over on the premise that you'd do it together, so how did this make sense? whenever you even came close to the stove, he shooed you away, insisting that he could do it himself.

he definitely couldn't.

when you had sat on his couch for far too long – after eventually being exiled from the kitchen – you began to smell something… that definitely wasn't part of the pasta dish he was making. it smelled burnt, and you no longer could stay away.

but when you made it into the kitchen, jack was moving all over the place, not even noticing your presence. he was trying to handle one pot of spaghetti (currently boiling over) and one pan of bacon (which seemed like it was done frying about five minutes ago) – but you stopped yourself from interfering when you realized that his focus was shared with yet another thing.

"sorry, mom," he groaned into the phone he was balancing between his shoulder and ear. "i'm a bit distracted- trying to cook some dinner."

he grabbed a spatula and flipped some of the bacon onto a plate. yup, definitely burnt.

"ha ha, the whole my son can't cook deal is getting boring. i can cook if i want to." a pause. "well, maybe i want to because i want to do a nice thing for a girl. is that too much to ask?"

your breath hitched in your throat.

"yes, we're back together again. kind of, i guess." he was talking to his mother about you? so casually? "she's good, i'm good, we're good. can i call you back later? yes, my head is okay- no, i'm going back to practice on monday. yes, i'll be careful. i love you but i have to focus on cooking, okay? okay, bye."

he let out a loud groan the second he hung up the phone, clearly dissatisfied with the chaos in front of him. it wasn't until your stifled laughter met his ears that he turned around and acknowledged your presence. "dinner coming along nicely?" you asked, feeling guilty when you spotted the disappointed and frankly shameful look in his eyes.

"i'm sorry," he mumbled as he turned the stove off, hand reaching out for your side when you stepped closer. "i really thought i would do better this time…"

"it's alright," you hummed, one hand reaching for the back of his neck. "you can't be the best at everything. it's sweet of you to leave something for the rest of us."

your lips met in a sweet kiss, one you never wanted to part from. one that made you question how you could ever go weeks without feeling his lips against yours. one that made your heart swell in a clearly uncomfortable, yet warming way.

"i'll order some pizza?" you asked, to which he pouted ever so cutely yet nodded.

every second you spent with him, you were forced to remind yourself of how you couldn't allow yourself to fall too deep.

and yet, with everything he did, he made you want it so badly.

[realhumangay]

here we go, lads, ep2 and i am more scared than ever 🙃

still on the ew august train, but then also what’s the deal with his mum? do i…feel slightly sorry for him? maybe i did for a millisecond before i realised that he hasn’t paid simon yet for the booze and now has him stealing his dads meds. wtfwtfwtfwtf also wtf at the scene where he did a speech about him during rowing practice? but wille was cute there so fine

also since we’re on the topic of neurodivergence, how has anyone watched this without getting ridiculous amounts of actually stressed/anxious?? this goes for anything but also this show like? i’m struggling!! i love it but im in pain!!

i’ve seen lots of posts about felice (i know, spoilers but i can’t help it sorry) so i’m guessing she becomes a beloved character, and i’m slooowly starting to see how we get there which is exciting! her and sara’s relationship is cute so far (except for if she’s only doing it as a roundabout way to get at wille which i can see happening 👹) but then also ? more gay? would be cute is all im saying. fine if not but ya know

and then finallyyyyy the end scene !!!! ended me !!!! willes gay panic and then panic at simon possibly leaving, him Holding Onto Simon for dear life that was the cutest shit i’ve ever seen they’re so awkward i can’t i love them so much already

(but also we get a kiss in ep2? oh no. oh. dear.)

also also just from a geeky actor pov, i can tell that there’s just So Much depth and backstory to each of these characters it must’ve been so fun playing them cause you get to just fully immerse yourself in the character and know exactly where their arc is going and god good writing makes such a difference for literally everyone involved 🥹

i think those are all my thoughts thanks for indulging me, gonna go rewatch that final scene now x

[kizuovarius]

Obey Me! But you're breaking up with them

My friend wanted to know what I thought, so I decided to write this. :]

Lucifer- It hurts his ego, but it hurts his heart worse, especially if you've been together long/ it's his fault. To make things worse, he drowns himself in work and doesn't smile as often. It only gets worse when you're in the human realm.

Mammon- At first he acts like it doesn't bother him, maybe he even seems glad, but when you fully move on, he'll beg you to come back and be a crying mess. If anyone else is the reason you left, he'll go as far as to fight them head on. If it was his fault, he drowns himself in more debt until he realizes material value doesn't compare to love, and that he misses your touch.

Levi- He instantly starts self deprecating and saying he knew this would happen, that he's just a horrible Otaku unworthy of love. He won't come out of his room anymore, and will not trust anyone else easily again. There will be at very least a solid month or two after that he doesn't come out of his room, even for the bathroom. He has a stock of food, and uses it.

Satan- This depends. If it was an argument that led to the breakup, he thinks back and dwells on it. If it was violence that pushed you away (especially out of fear), he will probably break down alone in his room, making sure no one sees. The anger turns to sadness and sorrow, even going as far as to turn to Edgar Allen Poe and questioning his existence. Not even pranking Lucifer could make him happy. He misses you endlessly, and writes love letters.

Asmo- Contrary to some belief, Asmo is still attached to all his old lovers unless they have wronged him. But, this is different, this is **you**. So, he starts to get a little cranky, and restless at night. Not sleeping because he can't cuddle you leads to a break out on his skin, which leads to him being even more upset. He buys bottles of your perfume/cologne/shampoo to get your scent again.

Beel- Beel doesn't know why you've broken up with him, and tries to get you food to say sorry. If you refuse, it will be the first time in a very long time that he couldn't finish the food for you. Probably the only time he won't be able to fix his feelings by a distraction. Every time he goes to places you visit, he misses you and thinks to call, before second guessing and talking to Belphie instead.

Belphie- When you tell him he's half asleep, but then looks shocked and sits up pretty quick. He'll ask why and then try to come up with a solution, only to eventually be left. This gets worse when he remembers you're Lilith's descendent, and he knows Lilith left him, too. Talking to Beel is out of the question, he doesn't want to bring his brother down with him no matter how much Beel worries. In doing so, he chooses to sleep it all off. In his dreams, you're still with him.

That's all I got, lmao. Have a good one!

[c4tluver02]

Family Video

a/n: haiiii this is my very first pic ive everrrrr written so im sorry if its awful and boring!!!!! if there's anything I can improve on pls let me know!! also id love any requests you guys have! <333 enjoy

summery: after just moving to Hawkins you decided a movie is in order. but when looking for a movie you notice the boy at the counter just can't stop staring at you!

no warnings!

wc: 1k

｡･::･ﾟꕥ,｡･::･ﾟꕥ｡･::･ﾟꕥ,｡･::･ﾟꕥ｡･::･ﾟꕥ,｡･::･ﾟꕥ｡･::･ﾟꕥ,｡･::･ﾟꕥ｡･::･ﾟ

All Steve could do was roll his eyes. Robin went on a date with Vickie last night and it was simply all she could talk about.  

“Robin of course she likes you, she asked you on the date. Vickie wouldn't do that if she didn't mean it.” Steve says somewhat listening in and out of what feels like hours long of the same topic. 

“Well this isn't something I can mess up, I mean what if I was too forward or I rambled I mean you know I can ramble!” 

Steve sighs as he puts tapes back into their spot after they had been returned. “Listen Rob, I can promise you VIckie likes you for you and your rambling. There's nothing you need to be worried about.” He says trying to end this conversation and get back to working in peace.

Truth be told Steve was having trouble in the dating department. If you would have told King Steve that he would have trouble even holding a conversation with girls he wouldn't believe you. Yet here he was listening to everyone tell him their love life and him having nothing to say back.

“Steve you don't get it VIckie is perfect in every sense of the word. I mean what if-” Robin gets cut off as the bell above the door rings signaling a new customer and Steve couldn't be more thankful.

You walked in feeling eyes on you, almost like you had interrupted a conversation. You walk towards the comedy section in hopes of finding something interesting to fill your weekend with.

As you start to look around, you feel a pair of eyes on you. When you look up you notice the boy at the counter swiftly turning his head the other way. You smile to yourself at his attempt of making it look like he wasn't staring. You then walk to the drama aisle. You're not really sure what type of movie you're looking for but it's almost as if the counter boy can read your mind. 

“Hey, um, is there anything you need help with?” Steve says with a kind smile on his face as he walks over to you. 

“Hi! Yes, actually some help would be great. I am not really sure what movie to watch.. Do you have any, uh, suggestions?” You say not sounding as confident now that the cute boy is standing right in front of you 

Steve's eyes lit up at the request, the thought of being helpful to such a pretty girl had his heart pounding. 

“Of course, do you have any genres of movie you like?” Steve asks, trying to learn any bit of information he could about you.

“I definitely like romance movies, comedy, horror, and drama of course I guess I'm not really picky when it comes to genres.” It wasn't until you noticed that you and Steve were both completely stopped in the middle of the aisle that you probably could have just said comedy and he could have found a movie no problem. Steve didn't mind your long answer though, he liked that you were so open to talk. He guides you both to the comedy section and pulls out a movie. 

“Ok we have this movie, it just came out and we've gotten great consumer reviews on it” He says with a smile that's probably a little too wide for just helping a customer pick out a movie. 

You look at the movie he's picked and it happens to be one you've seen before but you don't have the heart to tell him that. He looks proud to give you a good recommendation along with his help so you take the movie from his hands and smile at him.

“Perfect! I probably would have been looking in here forever trying to find something without your help!” you say with a smile not really wanting this conversation to end.

It almost seems like Steve doesn't either, or maybe you just aren't good at hiding your emotions as he says 

“Hey uh, how come I haven't seen you around here before?” Steve says hoping he's not coming off too forward the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away. 

You stand in front of him with wide eyes not knowing exactly what to say. You knew this town was small and being new will probably have a few others asking why they didn't know of you. 

“Oh, I just moved here about a week ago. I am just trying to scope out some places and I thought a movie night would be comforting.” You say as you twirl your hair in your hands, a nervous habit you have. 

Steve nods wishing he could ask you a million more questions. There was something so intriguing about you. He wants to know where you lived before coming here, or better yet why you decided to move here out of all the places. Trying to come off nonchalant and cool, Steve pops the question that you weren't expecting. 

“Anyone helping you move, friend, or maybe boyfriend?” Steve looks at you with big eyes and a calm demeanor trying to pull out his King Steve persona even though his night will be utterly ruined if the answer isn't no. 

You blush lightly at his question but just enough for Steve to notice. “Nope, no boyfriend helping. I moved out here alone so packing has been slower for sure.” You say you are trying to sound cool despite the fact you are single and have no clue what you are doing moving and starting a new life all on your own.

Steve's shoulders release a tension he didn't even know he was holding. A breath of relief comes out right and as Steve opens his mouth to say something back-

“Hey are you ready to check out?” Robin says walking up to you guys noticing you have a movie picked out. 

You look between her and Steve blinking as reality comes crashing down on you. This guy has a job and she probably needs him to get back to it. Not standing here talking to you for forever. You walk up to the counter and see that Steve is gonna be the one checking you out. 

You pay for the movie as you and Steve sit in a comfortable silence. Before you leave you thank him.

“Thanks for all you help… Steve?” You say reading out his name tag on his vest.  

But Steve just loves the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. He wishes you could say it again. It’s as if an angel just spoke to him. Your eyes, your hair, your smile, it's all perfection. He can't believe that someone so perfect is right in front of him. Like cupid shot him directly in the heart. As you blink in front of him waiting for a response he finally answers. 

“Yea.. Steve! And if you want to come back and let us know what you thought of the movie you're more than welcome to!” Steve says with excitement blowing his nonchalant cover a bit. 

You gleam at his invitation even though you both know you'll have to come back to return the movie anyways. Yet you don't mention it or try to mess with him about it. You simply smile and nod.

“Got it, I'll be back soon for the review!” You say as you grin from ear to ear just by looking at the boy in front of you as you open the door to leave. 

Once you get in your car Steve turns around and sighs. Robin looks directly at him with eyes squinted and a smirk.

“What?” Steve asks confused with her stare

“I saw you have heart eyes for her..” Robin says, poking him in his shoulder repeatedly. 

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes pushing her hand away, “I was just helping out a customer buckley. Can a man not do that?” He bites back sarcastically.

“Mhm sure, I guess so.” Robin says back with a smirk on her face as Steve turns around knowing this isn't just some customer.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Lesson Learned

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Alex x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: angst, language, children, married couple, teenager, yelling, family dispute/argument, underage drinking, smoking, sad ending (sorry),

𖤐Summary: Alex and Y/n wonder where they went wrong with their first born

��———

————

"He's not home."

"Where the fuck is this kid, he's missed his curfew and he forgot to pick his sister up front school, where the fuck is he?" Alex was getting pissed off.

His oldest son Blake had left school half way through with his friends, his location is off, and he didn't pick up his little sister Maddie from school when it was over. Maddie had to take the public bus which was dangerous for a middle school girl, thank God she got home safely, but where the hell was Blake?

Blake has been going off the deep end for a few weeks almost months now.

Coming home late, leaving school early or half way through, and they all end up with the same situation.

'I left with Sean'

Sean was this new kid in Blake's school, and him and Blake have became almost inseparable and getting themselves into so much trouble.

Alex hates Sean and it was obvious too. Y/n didn't meet Sean, and couldn't give an opinion on him, but she does hate the fact that Blake turned from such a good kid to someone who's getting into trouble.

Maddie comes down the stairs with her phone in hand and handed it to Y/n showing her a post Blake had just made.

"Alex," Y/n calls to her husband. He turns and sees Blake at possibly Sean's house a bottle of vodka in his hands and screaming a song, Sean in the back with a joint in his mouth and a red solo cup.

Alex sees red and his blood is boiling.

"Alex? Honey?"

He doesn't say anything but gets his phone and calls the police.

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

Blake and Sean were just drinking and smoking, guess having a good time maybe, Sean's parents didn't care what he did in fact they were separated and Sean lived with his father who didn't care what he did while his mom never yelled or punished him as a kid, so she didn't care what he did.

There was a pounding knock on the door, making them both stop what they were doing, Sean puts his joint out and Blake hid the vodka under the bed.

"Hello, officer."

"Hello, is Blake Keller here?"

"Yes?"

Blake comes out of the room.

"That's me."

"You're under arrest for illegal underage drinking and smoking," he motions to his partner to put Sean in cuffs too, but Sean fought the officer and Blake was quickly getting escorted into the back of a cruiser.

His mind was racing, heart pounding and his world was in slow motion. What the hell will happen to him? Is he going to jail? What will his parents think? He disappointed them.

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

Alex and Y/n sat in the parking lot of their local police station, they had gotten a call a few minutes ago about having Blake in their custody.

"Alex, why would you do that?" Y/n asked, not upset with Alex but just wanted to know. Why get the police involve when Alex could have gone to Sean's house and get Blake himself.

"Because I want to show this punk a fucking lesson," Alex says, tapping his stirring wheel, looking very annoyed, his index finger joint in his mouth.

"Are we gonna go in and get him?"

"Not yet..." he says.

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

Blake sits in a cell with Sean, Sean wasn't taking this as seriously as Blake. Blake's leg was bouncing up and down nervous, Sean was picking fights with the passing officers.

He turns to Blake. "Bro, when we get out of here, I'm gonna go smoke a fat one, you want one?"

Since both boys were underage with something kind of minor, like the drinking and smoking, they were just being held till a parent comes and gets them.

Blake hasn't even made a call to either parent, he was still unaware the person who made the call was his own father.

"Hey, officer," Blake goes to the cell door and gets the attention of a female officer. He did ignore Sean's request to smoke a joint afterwards. She just turns and looks at him. "Can I make my phone call?" He asked.

She gets the keys and opens the cell letting Blake out to go use the phone. Blake looks at the phone, he taps the desk thinking who he'd call first. He starts putting in Y/n's number, she might not be too mad at him if he called his dad.

Y/n looks down at her phone and shows Alex, the station was calling again.

"Answer," he says.

"Hello?" She puts the phone on speaker, but Alex would keep quiet even though he wants to yell at Blake.

"Mom."

"Blake, honey, is everything okay?" She knows it's not.

"Nah mom...I...I was with Sean and police came to the house...we were both arrested for underage drinking and smoking...I'm at the police station...could...you come and get me...I don't...I don't want dad to know either."

Y/n looks at her husband who was trying to hold his anger in.

"I-I'll come and get you," she lied. She hangs up and looks at Alex.

"We give it a few minutes." he says.

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

It's been 30 minutes since Blake's phone call, Blake was laying on the bench, knees to his stomach, he was tired, and ended up falling asleep, Sean still hasn't made his call, not knowing who to call.

"Blake Keller!" An officer yells at the cell, making Blake wake up. He sits up and looks at the officer and stood up walking to the cell door. "Your father is here."

Dammit

The door was opened and Blake followed the officer to the main entrance of the station, Blake sees a pissed off Alex, arms crossed over his chest.

"Dad-"

"Save it," Alex walks out first and Blake behind him, head down and once he opened the car door, he sees his mom in the passenger seat. He leaned back and the car ride was silent, so silent not even the radio was playing it was like a punishment.

Getting home Alex steps into the house first door shuts once Y/n was the last to enter the house.

"You are an idiot." Alex says.

"Alex!"

"He is Y/n, do not stand up for him!" He looks at Blake. "You are an idiot, you leave school half way through, you didn't pick up your little sister from school, you post, you drinking and smoking-which was even stupider because your sister saw it and let us know, I called the police to come and get you," Alex confesses.

"I wasn't smoking-"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER BLAKE!! YOU WERE STILL DRINKING UNDERAGE!!" Alex yells. "We gave you a car thinking you'd had some responsibility one of them being you pick up your sister from school, she took the public bus which is fucking dangerous, Blake, and you know that! I want your keys, your phone, laptop, video games and you are NOT ALLOWED to be even near Sean, the same vicinity as him, because you are fucking grounded-"

"Grounded!!"

"Yes, grounded till I fucking say so!" Alex storms up to Blake's room and Blake follows.

Y/n couldn't do anything, she could only watch and make sure Maddie wouldn't hear the yelling and harsh cursing from both Alex and Blake.

"I should just fucking destroy everything you own!" Alex threatens.

"Alex, please-"

"You're such an asshole!"

"Blake!"

Alex takes almost every electronic Blake owned and took it to his and Y/n's shared bedroom, putting it all in a box, tapping it up and shoving it into Alex's closet.

"Alex!"

"It's done Y/n," he says.

"I get that, but-"

"No buts, you are too easy on him."

Y/n just stays quiet. "I am not."

"You are...he called you because you know you wouldn't get mad at him, you're too easy on both of them-if this was Maddie, would you get mad or will you act how you're acting now?"

"I am mad, Alex! But I think what you are doing is unnecessary and harsh-"

"He's a teenager, he'll get over it and maybe it'll teach him a fucking lesson which is what I want happen, you do stupid shit, you'll end up in jail and you'll be punished."

"I'm sleeping in Maddie's room tonight," she says.

"Why?"

"Because I don't wanna talk right now," she takes one of her pillows and a soft blanket and heads to her daughters bedroom, Alex didn't stop her.

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

Y/n gently pushes the door and the little lamp next to Maddie's bed turned on. Y/n stops in her tracks and looks at Maddie.

"Mom? What are you doing?" She asked.

"Nothing, hon-"

"Did you and dad get into a fight?"

"Did you hear us?" Maddie just nods. "It was about your brother."

"I heard," Y/n comes to her daughter and Maddie moves over letting her mom get into her bed and get comfortable. "Is Blake grounded?"

"Yeah, yeah he is," Y/n says.

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure." Maddie just lays on her back and Y/n watches.

"Was it my fault?"

"Baby, why would it be your fault?" Y/n asked.

"Because I showed you where his location was."

"Baby, if anything you did the right thing."

"But I got Blake in trouble with dad."

"It's fine, baby. They'll be mad, like little boys and they'll get over it..."

"I don't know...dad seems kind of scary when he gets mad." And Alex almost never gets mad, maybe frustrated but not cussing in every sentance he says.

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

Alex laid on his back in the empty bed, he was laying on Y/n's side, he just thinks about everything that just happened.

Was he a bad dad?

Where did he go wrong?

Did he do something wrong?

He rolls on his back and stares up at the ceiling before closing his eyes.

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

The next morning Maddie and Y/n were up Y/n was fixing herself some coffee and Maddie was sitting on the couch watching something, Blake had came down with no word said to his mother or little sister.

He grabbed a pop tart and sat on the love seat leg propped up on the other, he reaches over and takes the remote and changed the channel.

"Hey!" Maddie says.

Blake was just giving attitude the entire time, he didn't speak to Y/n nor Maddie, even when Maddie was telling him to turn the channel back to what she was watching, he ignored her.

"Blake do you want breakfast?"

Nothing.

"Give me the remote," Maddie says.

Nothing.

Alex soon gets up not even looking at his son, his gaze was set on Y/n, going to her and kissing her nape.

"Can we talk?" He asked. She just gives a nod and follows him to their shared bedroom.

He shuts the door and sits on the bed, he moves Y/n to be in front of him, he placed his arms around her waist and burying his face into her stomach.

"I'm sorry..." He apologizes.

"For?"

"I'm sorry for being an asshole to you, saying to take it too easy on our kids, you're a good mom, the best wife and mother, I could ask for and for the kids, never forget that please," he says, looking up at her, his chin resting on her stomach.

"I forgive you..." she says, cupping his face and bring him up, so they could kiss.

Going downstairs, Maddie was trying to reach for the remote from Blake but he was just holding it out of her reach. Alex in the way of being able to take the remote snatches it from Blake and tosses it on the couch for Maddie.

"Don't be an ass," Alex says to Blake.

"Don't be a dick," Blake says.

"Blake, enough!" Y/n says, Y/n looks at Maddie who just learned the signal that once Y/n and Alex get serious to leave the room, which she does.

"You got in trouble, I know you're mad at us and everyone in the world right now, but please-"

"Please, what mom? I'm stuck in this house now, and my one friend is I think still sitting in the police station-"

"Your one friend? What about Mark, Tyler, Lucas, Chris, and Hunter? What about them? They are your friends, fucking Sean was using you, kid, you said yes to everything so fucking easily, you are smarter then this Blake. I don't understand how you thought you two were friends, he was using you!" Alex says.

"No he wasn't-"

"If he wasn't, why were you two in jail again? Oh right, underage drinking and smoking, because of him, just because his parents don't love him doesn't mean yours don't! Your mother begged me not to call the police on you, but for you to learn a lesson, it had to be fucking done, and I'm tired of this attitude bullshit, Blake...grow up!"

"I am grown!"

"Fighting words," Alex says, Blake stood up to Alex, but Alex was in the goddamn Military, you think he'd be afraid of his own kid? Chest to chest, spit for spat, Alex and Blake just kept yelling at each other. Y/n tried to pull both males from one another, but that was hard when Blake would press on.

"FUCK YOU!"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!!" Alex yells, pointing to the door, it was silent, Y/n looked at her husband, tears welting in her eyes, she turns to Blake who didn't seem faze and felt like he knew this would happen, he doesn't say anything but goes upstairs.

Y/n looks up at her husband tears finally falling. "W-Why?"

"Honey..." he doesn't have anything to say and Y/n just goes upstairs to follow her son. Y/n was trying to take to Blake, but he was just packing and ignoring her.

"Blake please." Maddie hears from the walls her mother sounding hurt, distraught even. Maddie was crying to, she didn't want her brother to leave, but she couldn't argue back.

He pushes past his mom, no word exchanged but Y/n begging her son to stay and telling her husband to change his mind, but Alex just sat on the couch looking at the black screen TV, hands over his mouth and then the door slams shut from Blake.

"HOW COULD YOU!!?"

"..."

"ALEX!"

[thebrothel]

Hi 💐

I have a question for game 2 🙏

if the joelkemons girls wanted to have a girls sleepover, how would the guys react? 👀

🙏🖤

Girls Sleepover 💕 1k

Despite the title, this is more about the guys' reactions. Milla, I love your mind. Ty all so much for your patience and participation <33 A few more to go after this.

The Joels are eating dinner, and Carter shows up. He's in a sweaty shirt with ripped off sleeves. There's a tear on one side exposing his ripped core. His hair is damp with perspiration. His front shoulder veins are bulging, along with those on his neck and hands. He goes straight to the fridge and grabs a water and takes a big gulp. His dirty bicep flexes as he wipes his brow with his wrist, then he mutters, "fuck it" and empties the water onto his head. When he's done tousling his hair, all the guys pretend they weren't staring. Thighs slowly starts to chew his bite of spaghetti again.

"sorry," Carter pants.

"You workin'?" Raider asks with an edge of possessiveness - was his right hand man burying bodies he didn't drop?

Carter shakes his head no and says, "you got a second, man?" Nodding behind himself to a room out of sight. Raider grunts in the affirmative as he stands up.

. . .

"Mattresses. Into the reader house," raid repeats.

Carter nods. Raider slowly nods, processing the information.

Slasher has moseyed in that direction and overhears the scoop. He chimes in, "thought that was just dressing rooms and shit."

"so did I," Carter agrees. "Bigger than it looks."

Slasher smirks. Raider shoots slasher a look that makes him retreat to the kitchen.

"A couple of'em were gettin' there as I left," Carter says.

"Hm," raider nods.

"Apparently they unionized, made some demands. The Madame agreed they should get equal accommodations even though they don't have to live here. It's gonna be so they can take naps or sleep over if they're tired. Doubt they're movin' in. Ain't enough beds for all of'em."

Raider's pager buzzes. He calls sweet pea from the kitchen phone and holds up a finger for a moment, signaling Carter to wait til he finds out what's going on.

"Hey baby," Raider says into the phone, then half-smiles as he listens to sweet pea. "You want me to guess what you're thinkin' bout?" He confirms. "Ok," he chuckles, "tell me." After a few seconds, his eyebrows go up. After a little more listening, Raider clears his throat. "God damn, sweet pea" he whispers and adjusts his pants.

A blush is creeping up Carter's neck. He lifts his torn shirt to dab his face.

"all that unscripted, huh," Raider says, "off camera...."

someone chokes on water in the other room ("Wro--wrong pipe--i'm--i'm okay"), ruining the mood.

Raider says, "well i'm in the kitchen, baby, but i wanna hear more about it later" .... "did Carter ask me what?" Raider looks at Carter accusatorily

"I was gettin' there," Carter whispers.

Back to the phone, Raider asks, "A sleepover?" looking skeptical... "I know, sweet pea. I'm glad ya got friends." He looks up at the ceiling and massages his temples with a thumb and a finger for a long pause. "Alright. two guards," he concludes. "And you call me later." .... "You be good, sweet pea. I mean it."

. . .

Raider calls a house meeting to tell the men. Some of them are offended their readers didn't ask. Slasher wants to bet on who's gonna hook up. "There's not enough beds," he insists. "They ain't sleepin' alone... if they sleep at all."

Lincoln insists Peaches isn't going.

Music is heard from outside and a convertible muscle car slowly drives by. A tattooed man flicks a cigarette onto the pavement. Two fishnet-clad legs are stretched out, feet propped on the glovebox.

"Is that fuckin'---Is that Jojo?" Thighs asks. "Holy shit. Must be droppin' Jailbird off."

"Why can't she take a fuber like the rest of'em?" Stepdad grumbles.

"What's fuber?" Raider asks.

"It's like uber but no male drivers," Stepdad explains.

"We're just lettin' this happen?" Lincoln asks.

Stepdad looks like he doesn't love it but reasons, "look, they need each other right now," and everyone agrees. Everyone but Lincoln.

"What's the big deal, man?" Trouble asks Lincoln.

"Y'all ain't worried 'bout them talkin'?" Lincoln asks

"They talk already," Slasher says. "Whatcha worried 'bout, Peaches learnin' how to jill off?"

Lincoln's face reddens, and his muscles tense. His eyes go dark.

"God damnit, man. You still don't let her?" Night walks asks.

"What century is this again?" Vampire asks.

"Sick burn," night walks whispers.

[Crosstalk in disapproval]

After a lull in the chatter, Trouble says, "Link, I know the audience loves ya, bless their hearts. But every time you're around, the Dateline music plays in my head."

"Yeah," Thighs laughs. "Like, Keith Morrison narrates everything you do."

Trouble puts on a Keith Morrison voice, "But he didn't make lasagna. not that night, no. He made spaghetti."

The men laugh.

Lincoln huffs and walks out.

"Speaking of shows," Night walks looks at the time, then looks at vamp.

"Oh yeah!" Vamp remembers their plans. "Yellowjackets premier."

"Time to pregame," Night walks says and they both stand up

"Wait, wait," Stepdad tries to stop night walks. "Can you get in the production room? They've got cameras, right?"

Night walks side-eyes him.

"Only in the TV room," Trouble answers. "Night, fellas."

Night walks and vamp say goodnight and exit.

---

...

A while later, everyone except Night walks and Vamp are gathered around the TV. They have bowls of snacks and beers like it's a big sporting event.

Trouble is working on the connection with his phone, then a live stream of the readers' TV room appears.

"Jackpot," "Yes!" "Hot DOG!" A few of the men high five.

"shshshhh"

The men are quiet, but there's no sound on the TV. The girls are snug in blankets around a big sectional sofa watching TV. Sweet pea has the dog in her lap.

"No audio?" Stepdad asks.

"Not this time," Trouble says. "But if we can get someone in there to turn on the mics..."

The men are content to watch for the time being.

Not much going on. The ladies are just watching something on TV. Pumpkin fans herself in an exaggerated so hot motion. Kitten opens her legs in the air and they all laugh.

"What are they watchin'?" Stepdad asks.

They all squint at the TV.

"Some kinda crime thriller," Trouble mumbles. "Or like, a batman movie."

"Oh shit," Thighs laughs. "It's Luigi Mangione's perp walk."

All the men approve.

[heartofbusan]

Your post is thought provoking. Seems everyone is thinking about the after MS right now.

I want them to be happy first and foremost, and for them to do what they feel is best, only they can decide that.

I think if anyone is going to pave the way as far as idol life and dating goes, it’s BTS, though Blackpink have been fairly open of sorts so far. Someone’s got to change the playing field, BTS are in a strong position to do so, with such a huge international fan base especially. Honestly their home land be damned, the ridiculous double standards, homophobia and idol expectancy needs to change, something has to give. They are living in the dark ages in regards to that, so advanced in many other ways. Out with the old and in with the new. What’s that age old saying? Be the change you want to see in the world! It’s never going to change if people don’t stand up and try to make that happen, history has shown that time over. Movements and individuals alike.

I’m not just talking about Jikook here, but in general with all members.

They kept saying prior to enlistment there were things they couldn’t tell us before, that they will, that Jimin said he wants to do what he wants with no restriction, in his last live to Army. Who knows what any of it means, or if they will let us know.

The Yoongi thing is another example of how ridiculous their culture is (sorry not sorry, bc it is), and I hope that he comes back with his held high and finger raised!

For Jikook, all I would want for them is to have them be free to show how close they are. The horse has bolted in many ways since the enlistment and show on top, the show being a choice they made, and aired. They shouldn’t go back to ‘hiding’ so to speak in terms of their closeness, they should honest to god flaunt it.

time will tell I guess

I honestly think the international fanbase is a huge hurdle. Cultural differences mean that not only do they need to think about conforming to their own culture but others as well. I'm not naming names, but there are a couple of extremely active fans out there who belong to cultures that tend to dismiss LGBTQI issues outright and they are also the biggest y/n types you could ever find. These types of fans can also be found in SK, but the fact that BTS for being so widely known would have to juggle multiple cultures is another reason to NEVER make any public announcements. Once you enter 'dating' into the lexicon, it can never be unsaid.

I think what BTS want in regards to their careers just doesn't align with their private lives. And merging the two is best done in private, where the one doesn't become a topic of conversation inside the other. That's just my opinion, and I'll wait and see how far BTS themselves decide to take it.

I love a good metaphor, and 'the horse has bolted' is wonderful. Is it Scandinavian? Am I mistaken? Just sounds like something rugged and wild..a wild horse that became antsy and needed to run.. just like Jikook. Mane fluttering in the wind, never back to being restrained.

Oh, Anon, you reminded me that I STILL haven't dared to watch Jimin’s last live 😭😭😭 his palpable and conflicted emotions like fear, nerves, uncertainty, and vanity all came to the fore, and I absolutely commend him for owning it all. What a brave boy, I needed the 18 months to be so brave, too.. I might soon because, yes, a lot of us are counting down the days.

Thank you 💜💛

[inkieflame]

You’ll look back and laugh someday (or at least you’ll learn to be okay)

A Life Series Lab AU, featuring Mumbo

Content warnings: kidnaping, tranquilizer gun, implied abuse, angst

2200 words

Aka: it’s Mumbo’s first day in the facility. He meets some new friends, and reunites with an old friend.

Author's note: wow, this came out much longer than I expected. I guess that's what I get lol. It is the first one shot for the AU so I had to do work building

Mumbo likes to think the world is predictable. He likes mechanics and spreadsheets, and he likes things that are always the same. He likes days where he gets to wake up, follow a plan, and go back to bed.

But today is not one of those days.

It is hard to tell what is happening exactly, but Mumbo is very certain he does not like it. It is dark and humid where he’s just woken up, and by the way the floor is shaking, he guesses he is in the back of a van.

He tries to reach up to rub the sleep from his eyes, but his hands seem stuck on something. He tugs again, only to finally come to the realization that his hands are tied behind him.

“Hello, excuse me?” he calls. He strains to look towards the front of the vehicle. “Where am I? What are you doing?”

Two people in cloaks and masks sit in the front. One of them, the one who wasn’t driving, turns to stare at Mumbo. The mask is white, covering his whole face, with one cultish symbol in the middle.

“Erm. Hello.” Mumbo clears his throat, “Mind explaining?”

The masked person just glances back at the driver and murmurs something to them.

The driver sighs and nods.

Mumbo arches his eyebrows, trying to make out what they were saying, “I’m sorry, you what?”

There is a tranquilizer gun pointed at him in a matter of moments.

“Goodness gracious!” he gasps, “Now, I don’t think-”

But then the trigger is pulled, and Mumbo can’t feel the movement of the van anymore.

…

There is a cold metal floor underneath him, still and steady.

Mumbo groans and sits up, rubbing his face. His hands are free again, he realizes. He rubs his wrists where the bite of the rope has left angry, red lines.

He frowns at his clothes. White tank top and pants. He doesn’t own these clothes. They aren’t his.

“What on earth…” Mumbo looks up at the people around him.

He is surrounded by half a dozen people in identical masks and cloaks. Several medical devices and tubes are attached to various parts of his body. They seem to be measuring something.

One of the people turns to look at him.

“Hello, I see you have awoken

Welcome to your new home.

Just making sure nothing’s broken

Then you’ll be free to roam.”

Mumbo just stares at the person blankly. They begin to remove the medical devices stuck to his arms and chest.

“Excuse me,” he says, “I, uhm, who are you? Why are you rhyming?”

The person nods, as if expecting this question, but they don’t answer him.

“You can’t just take a person off the street like that! I was filming!” He looks around quickly, like he would be able to find his things just laying on a table somewhere. “Where is my camera? And the rest of my equipment?”

One of the people help him off the table he was sitting on. The tiles are cold under his feet.

“And where are my shoes?” He huffs, “what is happening?”

The person walks him to the door. They nod, as if they understand his confusion.

“Let me show you around,

I’ll give you some rules too.

Just stay inside your bounds,

And trouble will avoid you.”

The person guides Mumbo to a wide room, painted bleach white, and gestures to a frame on the wall. Glancing around the room, Mumbo sees a three other doors, one on each side of the room. In the center of the room there are several tables and seats, bolted to the floor, and a few bean bags in the farthest two corners. Several people in the same white uniform as him are scattered around the area.

Mumbo swallows nervously and turns to the frame. Inside are a list of rules:

1. Obey the Watchers

2. Eat during designated mealtimes

3. Take your medication

4. Stay in your room at quiet time

5. Work hard

“Who are the-“ Mumbo turns to the person who led him here, but they are gone. “-The… Watchers.”

The other people in the room keep glancing at him. He can hear some of their whispers.

“-Another new one?”

“Poor guy…”

“You don’t think-“

“Rude, aren’t they?”

That last voice is directly in Mumbo’s ear, and he flinches.

“Well they just sit there talking about you instead of introducing themselves.” The guy who is talking is covered in scars. He looks charming, and warm, and like he would be over six feet tall if not for the wheelchair he was sitting in. “I’m Scar by the way.” He holds out a hand.

Mumbo eyes the people on the other side of the room, before shaking Scar’s hand.

Scar has a metal collar around his neck. It looks uncomfortable, except then Mumbo reaches up to feel his own neck and finds a matching one. He tugs on it gently, and something sharp pricks against the nape of his neck. He decides to not force it off.

“Sorry, excuse me.” Mumbo rings his hands together, “Where am I? What’s happening?”

“Last Life SMP” Scar answers, as if that was any sort of answer. “And you’re a new subject! There’s two other new subjects too, I think, but I don’t know where they went.”

“Uh. SMP?”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s a Scientific Mastery Project. It’s what they call facilities like this, where they test us and make us do things. For, like, science I guess.”

Mumbo shakes his head, “I’m. I’m not a subject of anything! I need to go home, how do I leave?”

Scar winces, like he’s been waiting for this question. Instead of answering, he turns his wheelchair around, “Let me show you the facility?”

Mumbo hurries behind, “Who were those other people? Why were they rhyming?”

“Oh, the Watchers.” Scar says, “Yeah, they just do that. We don’t know why. The Watchers run everything here. The tests, the work, the food, everything.”

“Work?” Mumbo squeaks. Oh goodness. Oh no. Has he been kidnapped into a labor camp? His stomach drops.

Scar nods, struggling with a doorknob and his wheelchair. Mumbo opens the door and holds it open for him. “Thank you. Yeah. Rentings and stuff. You, uh, you get used to it.”

There is a beat of silence as Scar wheels down the hall. There are several doors along the stretch of hallway, each spread out by several meters. The doors each have a window next to them, but most of the curtains are drawn.

Scar stops at one of the doors at the very end of the hall, “This is the last open room.” He says, “So you stay here.”

Mumbo pushes the door open and peers in the room.

Other than the light coming in from the hallway, it is dark. It pours in through the open window, illuminating the small space. There is a bed and a nightstand. A lamp sits on the nightstand. Other than those things, the room is plain.

“No. No, I’m supposed to go home.” Mumbo says, “I can’t stay here.”

Scar rolls backwards a few inches, avoiding eye contact, “Could I introduced you to the others?”

Mumbo hesitates, then sighs and nods, “Yeah, maybe someone in charge? So I can explain this is all misunderstanding. Then I can go home.”

Scar doesn’t answer. He just wheels away down the hall.

Distantly, Mumbo can hear screaming, “What was that?”

Scar swallows. His voice is stiff, “It’s just Joel.”

“Joel?” Mumbo echoes, “Well is he okay? Why is he screaming?”

Scar forces a smile, “This is Scott’s room! You’ll like Scott.” He knocks on the door.

The knock his answered by a little voice, “you can come in.”

Scar nods at Mumbo, prompting him to open the door and creep inside. Someone, Mumbo assumes this is Scott, is laying on top of the bed. He lifts his head weakly to look at Mumbo.

“You’re new.” He comments. “Did Impulse send you here?”

“Uh, Scar.” Mumbo says. “You’re Scott?”

Scott forces himself to sit up with a pained sigh, “Yeah.” He manages, “That’s me. Do you need something?”

Mumbo hesitates, looking Scott up and down. He looks ill. “Are. Are you okay?”

Scott grimaces, “Yeah, all good here.”

This was clearly a lie, but Mumbo could hear Scar calling him down the hall.

“Well. Good.” Mumbo manages, “I’ll, um. Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Scott says.

Mumbo hurries down the hall to catch up with Scar, who is already talking about how Mumbo should meet Impulse and Skizz.

They pass doors and windows until one of the catches Mumbo’s attention fiercely. He stops walking.

Those eyes.

Someone has their curtains open, and they are staring directly at Mumbo with wide purple eyes.

“He’s cool, you’ll like him. Oh, and you should-“ Scars cuts himself off, realizing that Mumbo has stopped following him. “Mumbo? What are you looking at?”

His throat is dry.

“I know him.”

Scar is quiet.

“Who is that?” Mumbo asks, “Why won’t he blink?”

His eyes stare and stare, and Mumbo can feel himself start to sweat under the gaze. He knows those eyes. He knows that face, that figure.

And yet something is so wrong.

“Scar, who is that?”

The hallway is silent, except for the soft sound of Scar coming back over to be beside Mumbo. Scar looks through the window at the person sitting in the bed.

“He doesn’t talk to anyone.” Scar says. “He just sits there and looks at people. Sometimes he comes out to get food, but even then, he doesn’t say anything.”

“But I know him.” Mumbo says, still unable to take his eyes away. “What’s his name?”

Scar shakes his head, “You wouldn’t know him, he’s been here forever. Longer than I have.”

“His name.” Mumbo insists.

Scar hesitates.

Mumbo manages to tear his eyes away to look at Scar.

Scar sighs, “Grian.”

And it clicks.

Mumbo knows where he’s seen that face before. Grian is not a common name, but Mumbo knows it. He knows it very well.

He steps away from the window and slams the door open. Without the glass between them, Grian is much less intimidating. He’s in the same uniform as them, with a metal collar stuck around his neck. He was just as much prisoner as Mumbo was.

Grian’s eyes go wide at the sudden movement, and his wings flare up, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at Mumbo.

“Grian.” Mumbo says, “Grian, it’s me.”

Grian does not answer. His black wings lower slightly. Mumbo takes it as recognition.

He wanders a step closer, “It’s your best friend.” Somewhere behind him, Scar makes a choked noise. Mumbo ignores it. “Grian, where have you been?”

Grian does not answer.

“Just… here? The whole time? Grian, it’s been years!” Mumbo says. “You can’t have-”

“Mumbo.” Scar starts. “how do you know him?”

Mumbo turns to where Scar is sitting a distance away, “I know him from- I, uh, I grew up with him. I’ve known him forever.” He turns back to Grian, “We thought you were dead! You’ve been reported missing for ages.”

Grian’s eyes finally move away from Mumbo to stare at Scar through the window. Then he slowly looks back at Mumbo.

Mumbo approaches Grian carefully, “I thought I’d never see you again. How long has it been, five years? Six?”

Grian watches him carefully. He is sitting crisscross in his bed, hands in his lap, with a blank and unmoving look on his face. His hair is longer than Mumbo remembers. And his eyes.

Something is wrong with his eyes.

They shouldn’t be that color.

“What did they do to you?” Mumbo breathes, stopping at the edge of the bed in front of Grian. “You’re not. You’re not okay.”

Grian looks down at his hands. Mumbo follows his gaze, and spots with Grian is looking at.

Two symbols, one on the back of each of his hands, are seared into his skin. Burned, dark and red.

The same symbol Mumbo saw on the masks of the Watchers.

A brand.

His stomach turns uneasily. He glances back at Scar. He has no burn marks on his hands. Mumbo swallows, throat dry, and looks back at Grian.

“Why did they do this to you?”

But Grian still doesn’t answer. He just lifts his head again to stare at Mumbo blankly. Mumbo is going to be sick.

“Why did they hurt you? Why did they take you away?” Mumbo starts to beg, “Say something, Grian! Say something.”

Grian’s expression doesn’t change.

Mumbo shudders and grips the bedsheets, “Why won’t you answer?” he asks weakly, “You use to laugh! You use to laugh so much…”

And Grian keeps looking at him, unblinking, eyes so unfocused that Mumbo doubts he can even hear him.

“Answer me.” Mumbo whispers, head bowed and eyes screwed shut, “You were my best friend…”

Scar rolls up beside him silently, and reaches to put his hand over Mumbo’s.

The comfort is lost on him.

[blairdii]

sooooo i was thinking thoughts

and i was thinking of how lando has said that he uses the hate he receives as fuel to do better. 2024 was obviously very negative in terms of how lando was perceived, but otherwise a very positive year for lando overall.

i was thinking of how lando had gotten pole in the past five races or something and lost the position at lap 1, and then he performed singapore. and then i was thinking of how everyone wanted ferrari to win and mclaren to lose, and when lando was on pole, everyone acted like ferrari had basically won, and then he performed abu dhabi.

if lando uses the hate as a fuel, it would be good to a certain extent. but, you add the overthinking habit of his, and thats where it all goes down. cause, then, you need to be careful of that fine line of where he can use it as a motivator and where it starts to bring him down.

like, before brazil, the usual comments about him were about his starts, about his teammate being better than him, about his ego. after brazil, it became about losing six positions, and the out of context quote, and the championship slipping away completely.

and then i was thinking and connecting it to andrea. about how he never praises lando and maybe that makes lando want to work even harder, do even better. i dont remember if mclaren did a post race debrief on instagram, so i can't tell for sure if andrea said anything about lando then. but, what i do remember is the interview that lando did with the telegraph after his birthday, the painful one, the one where he was talking about how he hadn't slept for 48 hours. i remember lando mentioning in that interview that andrea did help him out of that spiral.

im not praising andrea in this, i promise. he may have gotten us the wcc win, but he, in no way or form, backed lando for the wdc when it mattered. i honestly dont even know the point of this rant, i was just thinking thoughts and im telling you cause we're married now so you have no choice but to read all of these.

i remember reading about interviews and general norrussell lore about how george would jokingly make fun of lando and his races, and lando would use that as a motivator. i remember reading about how george had made a joke in sochi, and lando had taken it harder than george thought he would, so he checked on lando himself and made sure that lando understood that he didn't mean it in a malicious intent, but rather in their usual banter way.

this did not have a point. im sorry. i was thinking thoughts. i guess, the end whatever of this is that lando needs to play jumprope with that line between motivation and overthinking.

but yknow what the thing is. if (read as: when) starts winning every race or every other race, its not like the hate comments are going to stop. theyre going to continue, and as long as theyre about the usual things (ego, pia>nor, blah blah blah), lando can very well use it as a motivator and win more.

also, praying that mcl fixes their starts issue, because we know lando's gonna have a lot of poles this season, and we need that start issue FIXED.

i think it's a veryyyy big risk take to use hate as fuel sometimes, but then when i do think about it, the more lando's gonna win, the more hate he will get (i guess that's just how it is in sports, notwithstanding the unnecessary, quite immature vitriol tho). and, you see, when that does happen, i hope he uses it more as a 'i'm too good and they still can't accept that' instead of a 'what am i doing wrong?'

unfortunately he'll never be everybody's cup of tea (that is the case for all drivers, however, more evidently for lando than anybody sadly), but that doesn't mean he's nobody's cup of tea, and i do hope it gets to a point where he uses his support as his catalyst, than just the hate. i mean, at the end of the day, lando has absolutely nothing to prove. he finished almost 100 points ahead of his teammate, went from 0 wins to 4 in a matter of one season, out-qualified oscar 20-4, helped mclaren really take that wcc for themselves— it's all there for people to see. fans who have rocks for brains can still spew the whole 'oscar is better than lando', and whether they truly believe that or not, i don't care, but it's simply not true. perhaps they say it out of spite, just so they have something against lando, but i'll be damned if someone who finished that far behind their teammate... is better than them? yeah okay. (also perceive this how you want, but i am far from an oscar hater, and the truth is gonna be the truth no matter how you interpret this.)

anyways anyways i'm going off track. lando can certainly use the 'who's better?' debate as a motivator, absolutely. as for andrea... i need that italian hobbit to pattern up and show support to the driver who completely deserves it, instead of being apathetic in public, and consoling in private. it does nothing but fuel the antis, that even his own team principal isn't backing him. and it'll continue to push the pia>nor rhetoric no matter how good lando performs.

[kidcataldo]

White Petals

(The more interesting Daryl and Carol spinoff we deserve?)

Sorry not sorry, I watched the first episode of the Daryl Dixon spinoff and completely got turned off by the whole “this kid is the messiah and you need to protect him” deal. Also, it’s in Europe? Like what??? It’s too complicated. What made the original series work is its simplicity: Rick wants to make the world better for Carl. And when they lost that, it dwindled.

That’s what this spinoff needs, simplicity.

So, here’s an idea that will never see the light of day outside of fanfiction bc I do not work in Hollywood:

The first scenes show Carol traveling on the road alone, braving the elements and newly mutated walkers (to make it more interesting, I guess).

She returns to old areas significant to the original series: first, the abandoned kingdom; then, the house she stayed in with Tyreese and the girls; Gabriel’s church; the prison, where she finds the broken picture frame of Rick, Lori and Carl (the one Carl found for Judith after Lori died). Maybe she even encounters Jim’s rotting corpse (from s1) and puts him down.

After a montage of her returning to old areas, she sets up camp for the night somewhere in the woods in an unknown location. We watch her track and hunt a small animal, then roast it over a small fire; we see her kill walkers to clear the area, then set traps around her to prevent any unwanted surprises. We watch her as she settles in for the night, clutching a knife to her chest for protection. She closes her eyes and falls asleep. She’s out here surviving, not quite living.

A twig snaps and she jerks awake, her knife at the ready. The area is dark, the fire is low. But there’s movement in the distance. She goes to investigate and finds a small group of walkers. In the process of killing them, she encounters Daryl—seconds away from stabbing him, mistaking him for one of the walkers.

They embrace and settle back in camp where she reignites the fire. Daryl’s says he’s been tracking her for a while, after she didn’t immediately return to the Commonwealth on a routine scavenge. Their conversation is vague. Carol doesn’t give an explanation of why she’s all of a sudden going backwards, traveling to all their old places. And Daryl doesn’t push it.

Morning comes and she continues on with Daryl now at her side. He spots a Cherokee Rose and picks it, following her into a familiar field: the Greene Farm. They go to the graves—weeded and worn, but otherwise untouched—and he sets the flower down where Sophia lies.

He gives her space to mourn, moving to secure the area. The house and barn are no more, not even the ashes. Not a walker in sight. In the distance he sees crops and people tending to them. He hears a horse trotting toward them—they ain’t alone.

Chaos ensues.

They get caught up helping the ones now settled here, mostly a group of Cherokee people dealing with a tyrant group nearby (old west/cowboys vs natives genre).

Daryl wants to stay and help these people. (A kid in this new group gets lost, mirroring Sophia’s fate.) Carol wants to move on, continue her journey.

They fight and part ways with Daryl staying behind to bond with this new group. But eventually they find their way back to each other—maybe it’s Carol who happens upon the lost kid, alive and well, and brings them back.

And slowly, it’s revealed why Carol is going backwards. She’s stuck in the past. Not over the things that happened to her. More specifically, not over what happened to Sophia.

Daryl, in his own way, is also forced to deal with what happened to him with his dad and Merle (and possibly his absent mother).

To make the title fit, maybe there’s Cherokee Roses and their white petals guiding them along on their journey.

The story (season?) ends with Carol and Daryl returning to the old house she lived in before the apocalypse, expecting to find only bad memories—surprised to discover good ones sprinkled in there too.

She scavenges to find old trinkets from her past. Maybe a bracelet Sophia wore, or an old photograph. And after accepting what happened, they burn it down and finally move on.

[blob-with-a-pencil]

What's the origin of your blog name?: ive always imagined myself as a blob whenever i feel strong emotions and i like drawing so i kinda put those two together and.. here we are :)

OTP(s)+Ship Name: i love gay ships a lot, especially mlm, so i guess solangelo, superbat, drarry (i stumble upon it sometimes so its kinda a guilty pleasure..), and lowkey that one captain and doctor in a story book im reading who have such immense chemistry. i cant.

Favourite colour: blood red, persian red, blue, purple, black, and gold✨ i also like pink too! tho not really a favourite

Favourite game: GHARTIC PHONE OMG I COULD PLAY THAT SHIT FOR HOURS- and probably among us, minecraft(i haven't played in a looong time) and roblox!

Song stuck in your head: never enough from the greatest showman and tv by mico

Weirdest trait/habit: i bite shit and i eat random things

Hobbies: doodling, writing (most of it is stored in my brain file room), crying, eating, singing, reading:)

If you work, what's your profession?: sir, this is a school, and i am a student. /sillh

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?: maybe an actor, or psychologist. maybe even detective, i dunno.

Something you're good at: i mean, im pretty good at drawing

Something you're bad at: probably time management, focusing on something, PE, keeping my emotions in check, ordering at coffee shops (i swear, i always stutter), and doing anything right

Something you love: talking to my friends:)) and imagining scenarios that will never happen.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: probably crime cases, if you give me a specific one. and how to apologize properly for something without saying ‘Oh, im sorry you feel that way’. and things about psychology (kind of)

Something you hate: when people think its okay to act like dicks for absolutely no reason at all

Something you collect: i don't really collect stuff? but I've got journals and books

Something you forget: a lot

What's your love language?: I CRAVE THY TOUCH DEAR COMPANION. words of affirmation and quality time too

Favourite movie/show: Percy Jackson, Adams Project, BLOOD OF ZEUSSS

Favourite food: T U N A 🐟

Favourite animal: oh my freaking gosh i lub snakes, birds, cats and any sea creature

What were you like as a child?: probably the brightest star, creative, loud, and always wanted to play. a bit dumb tho.

Favourite subject at school: science, maths (no im not kidding, i love math), arts, and home economics

Least favourite subject: FUCKING PHYSICAL EDUCATION and history.

What's your best character trait?: im supportive? and im smart (kinda ig)

What's your worst character trait?: i snap easily (irl) and i care too much

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?: uhhmmm i would like to have less problems in the family

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?: my grandfather on my moms side, i would like to punch him in the jaw. for the shit. he did.

Tag as many mutuals as you want! (no pressure):

@itsmylovedaydreamdreamdream @peapea-0405 @cceanvvaves @childofthewargod @darkly-stagnating-fish-tank @daonedaonlysk

Get to know your mutuals!

What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!

OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad

Favorite color: Red!

Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!

Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC

Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol

Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!

If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha

Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.

Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.

Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas

Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.

Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha

Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately

What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service

Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha

Favorite food: Sushi!

Favorite animal: Cats!

What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do

Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class

Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol

What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others

What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy

Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!

@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer

ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!