#i am actually writing something with these dw

[seacashew]

the boarding school zoé went to was actually Gotham Academy.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

sometimes, that fictional man from your tv shows does actually like women. like, he can like men, too, but sometimes that fictional man is pansexual. not gay. it isn't always comphet, i promise. you can write that he's loved women. it doesn't take away from his queerness.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

it is a lie.

there is the promise, of course, every single time. that this time it will help, this time you'll be able to quit for good after just - once - more -

and then you look up and realise it's 1am and your hands are covered with blood. you've used up all the tissues and it's still bleeding. of course you grab something and stanch it, it's not going to kill you, but it's sure as hell going to make living unfun.

it's a lie. you can be clinical about it - you can measure depth and size and analyse if this needs medical attention or not. and then once you're absolutely sure it could do with it (curse the moment you figured out the technique that allows you to go deeper), you can ignore it and pretend it's fine.

it's not fine, of course. but even now, there's pain. of course there's pain. it's gaping, you idiot, and if you went to the emergency department they'd suture it just like they would have the previous one you ignored that got infected, but improved before you absolutely had to seek medical attention. they are not going to heal quickly; they're going to look pretty bad even if they manage to heal before you've got to wear short sleeves for placement. never mind the fact that summer's coming on. search up summer cardigans and hope they're not too expensive.

but there's pain. why would you do it? why would you keep chasing the high you will not get from this? why are you still thinking, if I just go fully to the muscle layer now, this will fix everything? it won't. you fool. is it muscle pain you're feeling right now, or nerve? how would you know?

cry about it, you bitch. you did it to yourself. you know, what you really want is someone to hug you real good, someone who knows what you've done and why you did it. but last time you showed someone it made you go deeper because what you showed them wasn't enough. you better hope they don't ask to see how that one's healing, because you can't show them the healing process without showing this newest one they don't know you've got. they said they weren't happy with you keeping the implement you used last time. you said it was a once-off, a mad impulse born of a specific, high stress trigger. you might even have believed it.

why would you do it? why are you going so deep, deep enough that after every action to make it deeper, you do all the basic checks to make sure you haven't permanently damaged something? don't mess around with this. your hands are your livelihood. if you hit a nerve, there ain't no coming back from that. you know what you're doing.

arms are dangerous. surely you knew that was almost the exact place someone you knew went, had to get fourteen stitches emergently because they hit something real bad. if you're tired, get sleep. if you're tired of life, get help. don't destroy yourself like this.

it is a lie. it will not make you feel better. it will simply add to your problems. why don't you care? the promise of relief is a lie. if you're sad about it, if you're crying, then do something. tell someone. reach out, and someone will reach back to you. they want to help. let them help. people want to love you; let them love you.

[stxrvel]

so....... what would you guys say if i said that........ ive been writing a fic...... thats not icft....... but its jungkook x f!reader being idiots in love...... friends to lovers........ with angst bc if you dont know already i am A SUCKER for angst......... and that it currently has 8k words and im just halfway through.................................

like........ what would you say.

[jennycalendar]

so the thing i am noticing as i continue to watch the river eps is that the problem i have with the melody pond plotline is not necessarily its fantastical improbability/ridiculousness, because doctor who has always been a show about making the fantastically improbable and ridiculous feel charming and wonderful, and also i am soooo biased i love melody pond soooo much That's Amy And Rory's Baby To Me! if anything, the fact that this is a series of absurd coincidences endear me to the notion more. but the thing is, with the information we're given about river pre-reveal, there is absolutely no way that anyone could possibly guess river's true identity.

prefacing that statement -- i did a cursory google search & moffat did seem to intimate in some interviews that he had the river stuff locked and loaded as early as s5! i do think that clocks, because river makes lots of references to killing the doctor, amy and river are absolutely a lot alike from the get-go, and the amelia pond -> river song thing is also a clear hint, but the foreshadowing outside of that is literally nothing, in what seems to be a preventative measure. that is not enough info to figure out that river is melody.

i feel like this is most clearly shown in let's kill hitler -- they handwave mels not being present at the wedding or mentioned in any prior episode, when we absolutely should have met her! honestly, mels should have been a character that we see in the eleventh hour (maybe even someone who either helps out here and there or refuses to), to the point where when amy and rory name melody, we know that it's for mels. we need her to feel like amy and rory's best friend from the moment that we meet amy and rory, rather than being introduced in the River Backstory Episode. mels could turn down traveling with the doctor for some unspecified reason, but she needs to be either someone he knows or someone that we have seen make an effort to make herself invisible. her showing up only when she has Narrative Relevance, when she should have been the clearest hint to who river is, was not a good plan, and it makes me upset, because 1) we miss out on mels, a wonderful and adorable and slightly murderous incarnation of river who i'd have loved to see more of, and 2) mels not being there means figuring out who melody is becomes that much more difficult, which really does support my theory that the focus was on Creating A Shocking Timey-Wimey Moment rather than a long-term investment in river's character :( and that, for me, is a bummer.

at the same time, tho, i'm kinda like -- so much of river's character really is defined by being a Woman Of Mystery! the hints can't come from her, obvs, because i think she would lose so much of what makes her her if she's at any point able to be deciphered by the doctor or the narrative. and i do think it's very on brand for river (who is made of masks) to absolutely shut all of her feelings down when interacting with younger versions of her parents. but we really, really, really needed more time with river. i think that's what i'm getting at. we needed more time with river within the show, very possibly through mels, for this to work effectively.

[picture-me-in-the-trees]

happy wip wednesday everyone here’s a snippet of this a quick little roy ficlet i was working on!

“Keeley, who eventually realized like everyone else that Roy—plain, simple, clingy, needy, unbearable Roy—wasn’t worthy of that kind of love.

He had convinced himself he’d never find that kind of love again. That comfort, that safety, that closeness. A person who loved him not because he was Roy Fucking Kent, but just because he was Roy. He had convinced himself being just Roy would never really be enough for anyone. But then there was Jamie.”

[justablah56]

been struck by fic writing motivation for the first time in a few months and I am so

will the fic I'm writing be enjoyed by more than like 15 people ? no probably not , but I'm having fun writing fanfic about silly gay people and that's all that really matters <3

[ssaalexblake]

Literally cannot convey to anybody how much i do Not want to sit around and debate the timeless child plot. Like, really, i’ve heard it all (except some Really buck wild things with no grounds in reality Or storytelling) and i’ve seen the exact spine folding levels people are willing to go to to deliberately miss the point. 

I will sit here and roll my eyes, loudly over the internet, over the wilful misinterpretations over a not that hard to understand plot in a kids show, but by god i cannot begin to explain to anybody how much i don’t care if you didn’t like it and how much I don’t wish to engage in any even vaguely confrontational conversation with any of you just because i liked something you didn’t. Do you have Any idea how many arcs in dw i think are just crap stories? Probably not, i tend to not waste my time thinking about them tbh, it’s a waste of time. I certainly don’t go on the posts abt the things i dislike that happen to cross my dash to talk about how much i didn’t like it and that it was bad. 

Y’all might want to consider that, ngl. 

[mirtifero]

Me ranting about Nolanverse Jonathan Crane,

Because it's either that or me losing it.

Warning: THIS IS FUCKING HUGE.

Contents:

Mixed feelings

How they could have done it better

WHAT THE FUCK

This guy is a FLEV you cannot say otherwise and personality database is wrong SHUT UP (skippable)

Conclusion

Note: topic 4 is very oversimplified. Do not tell my friend I refuse to talk more about theory than I already did on a SCARECROW POST. I'm too lazy to explain topic by topic like he told me to. Shhh

1. Mixed feelings

Okay so first of all what the fuck. Why did they cast Cillian Murphy here. LISTEN, he did great, and that's exactly my issue. If this Scarecrow wasn't filled to the brim with potential I'd just say "it was a mistake to cast Murphy as him" and move on. HOWEVER! He slayed that role. I dare to say he saved that Scarecrow. So why... why is he that conventionally pretty? That's not Jonathan Crane at all! He's... he's an old, (beauty norms wise) ugly man! Why is he young and beautiful???

He's evil, he's perfectly sadomasochistic, perfectly curious and. and evil. okay. I like it when he's evil and a little bit out of it (<3). He's perfect on that aspect! He's great! His... his design is what bothers me so much! His ways are uncanny so even if I have my complaints it fills its role so... just... why!!! Why!!!!! Every time someone says "I don't like him, he doesn't feel like Scarecrow to me" I get it!!! I get it!!!!! I get it so much because there's something so off about him and that's so sad!! Because when you look closely... he's interesting.

He's literally so interesting. I loved reading his wiki. He's evil and manipulative and a gross little sadistic bastard. He is obsessed with fear in a way I love, just perfect for Scarecrow. He's meticulous and aesthetic-obsessed. He, in many ways, reminds me of BTAA Scarecrow, who is, in my opinion, the best one to ever exist!!!

2. What they could have done better

They had the chance to make (one of) the most queer coded Scarecrow and have a magnificent take on his appearance and his backstory.

I think this would have upset Nolan's target audience (annoying dudebros), and wouldn't have pleased many Scarecrow fans that aren't tumblr-levels of online insanity. However, it would have fixed the gap in his backstory ("why was he bullied for his appearance?"). Men are bullied for being feminine-looking, and considering his conservative southern backstory, it would be the perfect match. Skinny, pretty-faced, different from everything Nolan's movie praises: that masculinity full of roughness and violence. Something like this would create a perfect contrast between him and Nolan's Batman and could create many interesting concepts.

By creating this base, this idea of an insecurity regarding his own prettiness, one may open many interesting doors of character exploration. Does he decide to use that in his favour? How does this impact his obsession with fear? The physical aspect of this will be explored in the FLEV topic so I don't get too annoying here specifically.

Anyways! By doing this, it would surely differ from different Scarecrows, but it would still be extremely interesting! How is his love for fear connect, or how can we as an audience connect that to his queerness? The Scarecrow nickname can also be explored here very, very interestingly.

By adding this miserable detail of his bullying being because he looked FEMININE and because of any sort of queerness opens doors to many, many things.

Also just fucking use him more than a punching bag. By just reading his wiki you can find so much about him and one would just... not know? Because he is just thrown there? He's a waste of potential! He should have been a main villain in at least one movie and no the first one doesn't count because the main villain (WHO IS ALSO WASTED GREATLY!!) is Ra's.

And excuse me but this is seen as the "best adaptation" and yada yada so if they had so much power not just fucking delve better into their own characters.

Sure I'm no movie expert to say HOW they could fit all of that. But they COULD HAVE. They COULD HAVE delved into Jonathan. The potential was RIGHT THERE! Something DIFFERENT with him, and yet, they decided to go for mr pretty face that appears to be punched on the gut and disappear.

That's why people dislike the character! He could have been, he was not. Therefore, he's a pretty face. And Jonathan is not a pretty face. So it isn't Jonathan. And I get it. Because I'm also angry at what they did with him. They wasted his potential. Being different isn't a bad thing, but at least explore it!!!!!

3. WHAT THE FUCK

WHY IS HE LIKE THAT. WHY DOES HE.

Okay how do I begin this.

WHY THE FUCK.

WHAAT THE FUCKKKKKKK.

Okay let me try to be more. Coherent.

Why does he look so fucking horny when Batman is around this is fucking HILARIOUS.

And can be so interestingly explored.

Jesus christ I took a break from writing this and got jumpscared from reading what I wrote wait let me try to be less insane.

His sadomasochism is insane bro. (psychic damage 12d8)

I'm honestly obsessed with this part of his personality. It reminds me of BTAA crane and Fear State crane and some others, in a way. He just looks absolutely stunning but his fucking brain is so not normal(tm) that he just did that on the third movie. Looking absolutely horrendous babygirl. Just reminds me so bad of this like. Okay idk if anyone can see it but I can and that's what matters god bless.

I just love when he looks unhindged.

Anyways.

Also can we talk about his obsession with Batman I love when they make him a little obsessed. And silly. Also he sounds so fucking annoying I love it so muchhh dude... fucking bastard!!! His backstory is unhindged this guy is insane he's absolutely obsessed with fear and also manipulative and sadistic and okay the physical aspect of fear will be talked... NOW!!!!!!!

4. This guy is a FLEV you cannot say otherwise and personality database is wrong SHUT UP (skippable)

Aka the one that I'll look like someone talking to a wall.

IF I FUCK UP ON ANY THEORY BIT IM SO SORRY PLEASE DONT KILL ME (IM TALKING TO YOU MY FRIEND I WILL SEND THIS TO WHEN I FINISH WRITING)

In case you don't know what I'm talking about... this is about Attitudinal Psyche (which I keep mispelling... SORRY). It's a personality typing system, to put it very shortly. It most analyses an individual's actions regarding three aspects: Logical (L), Physical (F), Emotional (E) and Volitional (V). These can be positioned in three different huhh "places" (I suck at explaining sorry), them being: confident (1), flexible (2), insecure (3) and unbothered (4).

It's... not as simple as that, though. The names may be misleading and the way each interact with each other may be quite different from type to type. If you for some fucking reason want to know more I linked the site there.

"You believe in this stuff?"

Short answer: no.

Long answer: I believe it can't be used as a way to determine someone's personality, but a very interesting guide to it. I like the fact that it is more complex than MBTI and that therefore it is more hidden from astrology obsessed fucks that are annoying about it (like "oohh im an INFP i cant help it<3" or whatever. no one does this with AP because no one knows about it lol). It is, however, INCREDIBLY, and I mean, ABSURDELY useful when writing characters. It is very interesting when observing characters' actions and putting them in light in an almost mathematical way... Let's say it saved my ass from mischaracterization quite the amount of times.

NOW.

THEY ARE WRONG.

idk shit about the other stuff so idc idc but HIS ASS IS NOT FLVE!!!!

HE'S FLEV!!!

I hope this doesn't get too big because I want to. Elaborate. So, first, let's see FLVE's (WRONG) introduction:

"FLVE is the Attitudinal Psyche type that seems the most interested in the value, worth, structure and potential power of the world that surrounds them. The FLVE appears to be protecting their right to exist wherever they desire by completely resisting any outside forces that try to manipulate or encroach on their space or personal decisions in any way. They may come off quiet, stoic, grounded, aggressive, indiscriminately blunt, immovable, shy, awkward, and even unapproachable – but will open up easily when given the chance to discuss topics related to logistics or intricate details. The FLVE seems to want control over their identity through fully theorizing and testing hypotheses of what holds the most worth or value in their lives."

I put in bold some things. It's just wrong.

I'm going to be honest, I don't even know how people came to this conclusion.

Because even if we superficially analyse the positions, it doesn't feel right. Why is he a 3V here? Superficially speaking, an insecure volition leads to people not knowing what they are, what they want to do, and desperaately want to fix it. Crane isn't... like that? He's not insecure on where his life is heading, he, in fact, doesn't seem to care much as long as it takes him to achieving his fear goals (4V).

Another one that is just weird is the 4E. Take this bit from the 4E in FLVE page as an example:

"FLVEs have a deceptive 4E, as they can appear more invested in their emotions than they are. The combination of aggressive 1F and 3V can give them an angry, reactive emotional tone but the internal experience of the FLVE is a detached devaluing of what their emotions actually mean. FLVEs rarely introspect deeply about how they feel or relate to others, and prefer to listen to feedback regarding the impressions they give off."

Just. AKSJKSKASJAK IT'S NOT HIM AT ALL!!!

He looks extremely deceptive when it comes to emotions, yes, but not because he seems... invested in them or seems to angry and reactive. It's specifically because he sees no use in expressing emotions in environments he feels as unsafe, and he sees barely any use in emotions at all so there's also that (all being very 4E). AND FEEDBACK?? THE WIKI SAYS HE WAS LITERAALLY THE MOST ANNOYING MOTHER FUCKER TO LIVE ON THAT UNIVERSITY AND HE DIDN'T GIVE A SINGLE FUCK ABOUT IT!

Okay now. Time to start explaining that, since he isn't a FLVE, then what is he?

My friend will punch me for not starting with explaining why he's on Pente Sexta but I can't find the theory bit he's referring to so uh maybe later! Just trust me when I mention the Pente Sexta quirk.

WHY IS HE A FLEV?

"FLEV is the Attitudinal Psyche type that seems the most interested in using details and logical musings to gradually transform their environment to be whatever fulfills their sensual and physical needs. The FLEV appears to be protecting their need for comfort, both psychologically and physically, through gathering data and scrutinizing its value to them personally. They may come off as hedonistic, comfort seeking, lax, immovable, heady, satirical, tasteful, picky, detail-oriented, philosophical, spiritual, mystical, or ironic if they are a particularly opinionated individual. The FLEV seems to want control over their identity through gathering and sharing information that they believe will deepen a sense of worth and value towards their lives."

NOW we're off to a better start.

At first glance, it may seem... off, inaccurate, maybe. So let's take a closer look at FLEV:

1F: "why would he have a 1F, why would he be confident on his physics" you may be wondering, my fellow Scarecrow enjoyer. Yes, it doesn't make sense AT FIRST. However! Take a look at the 1F description in FLEV:

"FLEVs have a picky and sometimes vocal relationship to the physics aspect. This type does not shy away from expressing what they like and dislike in their surroundings. They have a strong fascination with aesthetics and mood ¹, similar to their sister type FELV. However, FLEVs are much more lax and hidden about the emotions that drive them. This type wants to be the authority of all incoming senses and will refuse to allow others to tamper with their comforts if they have already claimed them ². FLEVs do not like to waste time in direct confrontation with others, so they tend to pre-meditate and plan around potential conflict that may overwhelm them with negative emotion or dramatics ³. This type gives off an air of hedonism that communicates to others that the FLEV will get what they desire in the physical world no matter how others protest. For this reason, FLEVs can appear highly chaotic and physically vivacious if their vulnerabilities are triggered into action. This type may have a fascination with physical activities that provide abundance like: gardening, farming, metalworking, thrift-shopping, and collecting. This only aids into the typical view of the FLEV as someone highly focused on the value they can attain from the material world."

Okay so, let's break down three main things here (but everything in bold is nice to my point):

"strong fascination with aesthetics and mood" - oh c'mon the guy wears a Scarecrow mask. Motherfucker rode on a horse during that mess in the Narrows. He's obsessed with the creepy little aesthetic.

"wants to be the authority of all incoming senses and will refuse to allow others to tamper with their comforts if they have already claimed them" - quite self-explanatory. Look at that guy. Sure, he may not be THE authority in Ra's plan, for example, but he does see himself in some position of power, and is quite protective of the physical comfort (his materials for the fear toxin) the alliance provided him, which is... quite shown when he drugs Falcone. He pretty much didn't want him to fucking bother them.

"do not like to waste time in direct confrontation with others, so they tend to pre-meditate and plan around potential conflict that may overwhelm them with negative emotion or dramatics" - quite self-explanatory too. He just doesn't seem to bother much, let's say.

There is, however, a quirk that I will mention in... a second. It doesn't change the basis but it does change a little thing.

2L: I believe this is, although the easiest one to understand, the hardest one to explain.

"FLEVs have a highly active relationship with the logic aspect. This type wastes no time digging into the details, particularly physical, of everything they observe. They tend to carefully consider information regardless of source, and interrelate it to all other sources and past experiences they have had with that particular idea. There is a hyperactivity present in willingness to entertain new possibilities and ideas surrounding logic that only few types can match. Along with the focus on logic, FLEVs can become collectors of philosophical ideas. Like all pentes, there is a strong focus on the past and how it compares to current ideas in humanity. [...] If their interests do not stretch that far back in history, they will instead tend towards endless breadth of outside opinions rather than depth. Regardless of their focus, this type does not stop collecting data and feeding it into the sensual vision of their life. FLEVs desire to share opinions and encourage others to join along, even if they strongly disagree with their ideas."

I believe it is quite self-explanatory, but I must say that FLEV's are easy to be passionate about philosophical ideas... does that ring a bell?

(this is from the wiki):

"Crane prepared himself to make a grand theory to prove that fear was the basis of all of humanity's errors and "cure" it by ushering mankind with the fear-induction within his hallucinogen into a true Garden of Eden where all of its worst fears came true and were conquered, with him as its benevolent ruler."

(I find the last bit quite silly. Not a big fan of it, but whatever, let's not get off topic)

To explain why his Logics is there I also want to point out about this on the Pente Sexta page (where FLEV is):

Process Emotion & Logic: Pentes prefer to process, discuss and partake in a journey through emotion and logic. You will often hear them conversing in depth about education, artistry, vocalization, communication and ideology.

I believe he's quite the calculative, meticulously sadistic villain... which makes him having a 2L and a 3E specifically (since the "process" is when things are on either 2 or 3 positions) make quite sense. "But why not 2E and 3L? Why is his emotion on 'insecure'? He seems so collected... and he's a psychiatrist!" that's what I'm going to delve into... NOW!

3E:

The simplest way that I could explain why he's 3E is that he does not see emotions as a good thing necessarily, and sees them more as tools to achieve goals (AKA emotional manipulation, but this is not the overall case for any 3E, I'm talking about Jonathan-fucking-Crane). But that's too vague. Let me once again copy paste the site's description:

"FLEVs tend to have a firmly concealed 3E attitude. This type often refuses to express their emotions and believes that this part of themselves must be saved for entirely safe situations where they cannot be criticized or thrown into emotional turmoil. They may attempt to feel safe by pointing out how hysterical others are and satirizing versions of what they believe are frenzied emotions. [...] FLEVs dislike any situation where emotions may cloud their own judgment or throw them into disappointment or negativity that they did not choose to partake in themselves. They often want a negative experience to have a purpose, and if nothing interesting or of value can be obtained from it, then it is better off left ignored. They can become dejected and sad looking, while refusing to verbalize the emotions held within unless it is aggression or anger."

Jonathan has this calculative, cold and annoying way because of this sort of thing: he sees these emotions as an obstacle. Also... "satirizing versions of what they believe are frenzied emotions"? Fucking hell! He's a smug looking ironic bastard that literally just threw a "not my diagnosis!" on Batman! Isn't that enough proof of how 3E he is???

(did you guys notice I'm really fucking bad at explaining things? Yeah)

4V:

Unbothered volition huh?

"But doesn't he have a goal? That world without fear?"

Well! First of all: take note on how physical this goal is, and how fear to Crane is seen as something on a more physical world than anything else (I believe his toxin shows that pretty well - someone who sees fear as an emotion wouldn't use a toxin that is made having in mind and as a sole objective the physical compensation and reactions. Being it a weird ass fetish or a cuiriosity on seeing how humans physically react to fear and how that physically affects the physical brain and physical world and how the emotions affect it and how he can use the emotions to cause physical reactions to YOU GET IT). And now read this:

FLEVs, like all pente types, can have a mixed state of first and fourth attitudes. They may have short bursts of inspiration to reach a desired future goal but will ultimately use this inspiration to serve a physical need that they value. FLEVs may be highly opinionated about what they like and dislike on an aesthetic level, but easily take orders from others if the goal is seen as useful. This can give off a confusing impression to those who have witnessed the pickiness of this type. Ultimately, the FLEV is open minded to possible future ventures, especially if there are details to obsess over. They may not want to waste time discussing goals as the process is less interesting than reaching a result, but they rarely shoot down opinions in this realm. FLEVs can be very hard workers since they are a 1F type, pushing their body to extremes to reach a coveted physical or environmental state, but there is rarely any extensive thought put into considering other options unless they come across a solution by chance.

The last bit can be ignored idk much about it but notice what's in bold.

AND HERE'S WHERE I'LL TALK ABOUTTTT!!!! THE QUIRK!!!!!:

Did you guys notice it? "Like all pente types"?

Did you notice how his motivations exist and are mixtured in the physical realm?

Now, I invite you to take a look at this bit from the wiki, that talks about the second movie on the trilogy:

"Batman tied up a strangely happy Scarecrow, possibly due to the fact that he felt fear when Batman arrived, [...]"

DID YOU NOTICE IT??? DID YOU NOTICE HOW IT'S A MIXED STATE OF F AND V??? HIS MOTIVATIONS ARE DRIVEN BY A PHYSICAL IDEA AND A PHYSICAL SENSATION... FEAR!

ALMOST FUCKING HEDONISTIC???? WHAT???w NOW REMEMBER WHAT THE INTRODUCTION TO FLEV SAID????

"They may come off as hedonistic,[...]"

DO YOUFUCKINGSEE IT????? His physical interest in the physical world when it comes to fear can COME OFF AS HEDONISTIC.

THIS IS THE STRONGEST ARGUMENT FOR WHY HE'S A FLEV!

For example, another type that I'd understand typing him is VLEF. And I genuenely get why. Genuenely, I do.

But I think this Scarecrow (and overall my favorite ones like BTAA) is more of a FLEV.

Reason being that (IN THIS CASE) the volition is not what causes the physical interest but vice versa. REMINDER THAT PHYSICAL WORLD IS MORE THAN SEX AND BEAUTY IT'S ALSO STUFF LIKE POWER AND FOOD AND YOU GET THE IDEA I DON'T WANT TO SOUND LIKE I'M GOING LIKE "yeah he's all about sex" OKAY????? I just think there's something deeply wrong with him.

I think a VLEF Scarecrow could be arkhamverse or Fear State ones. But I have not delved into that yet.

So yeah, I understand why one would believe he's a VLEF, but I believe other Scarecrows fit this archetype better than Nolanverse (and BTAA, my beloved<3), who is more of a FLEV.

Very aesthetic driven, one could say. I believe Scarecrows tend to vary between either VLEF or FLEV. At least my favorite ones.

THIS ONE IS A FLEV AND SO IS BTAA THO SO STFU PERSONALITY DATABASE IS WRONG!!!!!!!!! WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

4. Conclusion

Hii. Heh.

I'm. pffhhf I'm done. Sorry.

I think this Jonathan was trying to do something, but had no time for it. He was used as a pretty face and now he's seen as a bad Scarecrow by many. But I don't believe so. I think he can be scary, and that he can be obsessed, and love the halloween aesthetic.

He's underrated, because even when he is the most mainstream one... barely anyone actually... talks about him. No character exploration, no manipulation, no scary disgusting guy... just... pretty face. Disappointing is not enough to describe how he is treated. I think he deserves better, in canon and fanon.

I started writing this when I was full of energy and not knowing where to throw it so this is probably a mess >_< sorry!

I'm not even a big fan of his. One of his biggest slanderers. But I do think he was done unfairly and that he deserves a second chance in my heart.

Thanks for reading!

[karinyosa]

starting to think something more than adhd may be wrong here

[lacunasbalustrade]

Your trademark is that you're the designated writer friend

oh, the honours, thank you, thank you! thank you everyone (positively beaming as I put on a sash)

wait what -> (comedy workaholic speedrun)

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.3. how was your first night together?

➴ warnings: nsfw, rough sex, oral sex (f. receiving), use of the word slut, bit of humiliation, dacryphilia, subspace kinda?, protected sex, nipple sucking, curse words, aftercare, cockwarming, dirty talk.

➴ word count: 2.2k

➴ author’s note: i have nothing to say for myself… also, this is the first straight smut I write in YEARS. so pls bear with me… also2, im highly aware that jack is probably a cutie pie during sex (and dw!! we’ll get there eventually) but something abt this jack… makes me dizzy. hope u all enjoy!!

—♡

LEAVING the party with this man— you still didn’t even know his name— was probably the best decision you had ever made, after auditioning for that one show that changed your life back when you were thirteen.

The pretty boy drove you to his actual house and rested his hand on your thigh the entire ride. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with the thought of letting a man, who you barely even knew, fuck you senseless.

Maybe Grace was right and you did have a little bit of a thing for humiliation.

Although nothing compared to when he opened the door of his huge house for you, and kissed you before he had even closed it properly. His kiss was bruising and angry, his hands gripping your waist with just the right amount of strength and you could swear you were melting in his arms.

“Fuck,” you moaned, sitting on his lap. “What’s your name?”

He laughed, eyes red and mouth swollen. “You don’t know who I am?”

“No?” You raised your eyebrow, smirking.

“I’m Jack Hughes.” He said, looking bothered by the fact that you didn’t know who he was.

“Hi, Jack Hughes,” you said, rocking your hips against his. “I’m Sophia.”

“Oh, I know who you are, baby,” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “That concert Nico went to? I was there too.”

Now that surprised you.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” He was the one smirking now. You rolled your eyes.

“Less yapping and more fucking. I’m starting to think you’re full of shit.”

You barely had time to finish breathing after your sentence before he grabbed you by your waist, and lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He somehow managed to climb up the stairs while holding you and hell if that didn’t make you wetter. You could feel your panties sticky and glued to your intimate part, and honestly there wasn’t anything that you wanted more than to remove them.

He placed you in the bed, gentler than you’d expect him to, and you watched as he removed his suit, his toned abs making you clench around nothing. He pushed his somewhat long hair back before getting his hands on you again.

“Let’s get this monstrosity out of you,” he growled before almost ripping the jersey out of you. You laid on the bed now wearing just your bra and your mini-skirt. “Much better.”

You turned around, deciding that he deserved a show. Removing your bra, you actually moaned when you felt the cold air hit your hard nipples. You fought the need of touching them, and went straight to removing your skirt and panties, not letting yourself feel shy or embarrassed.

You felt Jack’s hands on you, turning you around and getting you on your knees. He looked at you like a predator and from just one look at his pants, you could tell that that man was packed.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do, baby,” he whispered, blue eyes staring down at you. “You’re gonna sit that sweet, needy cunt on my face, and I’m gonna eat you out until you’re coming. Then,” he stepped closer, not breaking eye contact. “I’m gonna fuck you fast and rough. That’s how I like it. And with that slutty face of yours,” he scoffed, eyes full of lust and desire. “I’m guessing that’s how you like it too.”

You bit your lips, nodding with your head, because you didn’t trust yourself enough to do anything besides moaning.

He removed the rest of his clothes and, yay, you were right, but also— fuck. You were right. His cock was big and thick and looked like it would reach your stomach and rearrange your organs.

Just how you liked it.

He laid on the bed and grabbed your hips, making you sit on his face, and when the tip of his tongue met your aching clit, you swear you saw stars.

You were holding yourself on the headboard, not wanting to hurt him. He looked like a great guy, and didn’t deserve to die because he suffocated during sex.

But it looked like he had other plans.

“I think I told you to sit your cunt on my face, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Do as I fucking say.” Even though he said it, he was the one who grabbed your thighs and pulled you down, making your pussy cover his entire mouth.

Your moans were probably heard from across the street, but you didn’t care. It had been way too long since your last time and this? This was heaven. Jack was a fucking munch. The way he licked your clit and fucked his tongue inside you? Yeah, he knew what he was doing.

“J-Jack, fuck,” you heard yourself saying, eyes starting to feel wet and mind going all blank. “God, what the fuck.”

The wet noises could be heard whenever your moans came out softly, and his hands on your thighs only made it all better, because you knew it would bruise. You knew it would leave a mark there and it felt so good to know that this was the man marking you up.

You looked down by accident and you came right on the spot when you made eye contact with the man underneath you; it should have been embarrassing to look at him eating you out but it wasn’t anything like that. You felt owned and desired. You felt whole.

He removed his lips from your pussy, not before licking it a few times, and turned you around, him on top of you. He moved so he could grab the condom from the bedside table— fuckboy move, totally— and you watched as he put it on.

He kissed you one more time while he inserted himself on you, not really giving you the time to adjust. You felt your hole burning, and it felt good. You were so wet that the squelching sounds were almost embarrassing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was hitting you on the right spots.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he murmured, slamming into you with force. “Pussy so ‘fuckin tight for me. Holy shit.”

“Harder, p-please,” you heard yourself saying and you saw how his bright, blue eyes were changing into a dark, ocean color. You saw danger in them.

“You’re still speaking so I guess I’m not doing my job the right way, huh?” He said, taking almost all of his cock out just to slam it back into you with strength.

Your mind was going to a very strange place where you couldn’t really think straight and even though that should be scary, you felt nothing but… free.

The pleasure was so fucking good and your pussy had never felt so satisfied, as corny as it sounded. He had his lips on your right nipple, sucking and biting, his right hand rubbing your clit fast and precise, while his dick slammed into you with the right amount of pressure.

You could feel the tension building up inside of you and you knew you were going to come again, and soon, but when you tried to say something, warn him, it felt like you had grabbed a stick of glue and glued your mouth shut.

But it was too much, your legs were trembling and your eyes were wet, tears cascading down your face. You knew your face was red and probably slutty like Jack had said but it didn’t matter.

“Poor slut can’t even talk, mhm?” You heard Jack mock you, and fuck if it didn’t make you clench your hole around his dick. “You liked being called that, didn't you? Little slut. My brainless, stupid slut.”

His hand started to move faster on your clit and you tried to close your legs, out of pure instinct.

“None of that, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, still fucking you rough and hard. “Keep those pretty, little legs open for me. Isn’t that what you’re here for? Letting me, a guy who you barely know, fuck you senseless.”

You were fully crying now, holding onto him with so much force, secretly thankful that he was a Hockey player and probably used to all the roughness.

“I-I’m gonna,” you mumbled, not even thinking straight.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, sweetheart? Yeah? Gonna make a mess for me and wet my bed sheets even more?”

You felt yourself nodding, biting your lips when you felt yourself coming. Jack was still fucking you, searching for his own release. He lifted himself just enough to grab you by your waist and slam himself into you, over and over again.

Your tits went up and down and your eyes went to the back of your head.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up now, baby. C’mon, sweetheart, I’m gonna come, fuck.” Jack cursed, thrusting into you one last time, before coming inside the condom.

All you could hear were your sniffles and his breathing. Your legs were still shaking and your body felt the same way it did whenever you had a fever.

You could hear Jack moving, but you only acted when you felt himself removing his dick. “N-No. Please, stay. Just… for a bit?” You sounded fragile, almost insecure, and you hated it. It wasn’t anything like you, at all. You had guys and girls throwing themselves at you everyday— not that it mattered, you never took interest in any of them— so you shouldn’t act like a needy… slut.

But your fucked up brain couldn’t handle the thought of Jack leaving you. So, you did what you could. Begged.

You heard him chuckling and before your brain could tell you that he was laughing at your request, you felt him moving you both around and, without removing his cock from you, he managed to lay on the bed and let you on top of his, your head on the crock of his neck, your intimate parts still connected.

You sighed, content and full, feeling even better when he put the duvet on top of you both, making you snuggle even closer. He chuckled again.

“Feeling very cozy in there, right, sweetheart?” He mumbled, and you smiled, even if he couldn’t see. He smelled like sandalwood and something else, something that didn’t smell like a cologne or anything like that— just him.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, you probably snoozed after a minute or two, but you woke up startled, feeling empty because he had just removed himself from you. You whined.

“We need to clean you up, c’mon,” he said, rising from the bed and taking you with him. He didn’t seem to care that you were both naked and you looked like you had seen better days— your makeup was all smudged and your eyeliner was long gone. But you felt so freaking good. “I need you to pee. I’ll wait for you outside if you want.”

You looked at the man in front of you, who looked nothing like the cocky guy who hit on you not even three hours ago. He looked soft and gentle, and you were all here for it.

“That’d be great, thank you,” you said softly, and he kissed you on the forehead, before leaving and closing the door behind him. You looked at your reflection in the big ass mirror in front of you and sighed, smiling. You looked fucked but damn. You felt like you had just hit the jackpot.

And maybe you had.

You peed and cleaned yourself, trying to remove the remains of your makeup with wet paper. It didn’t do much, but it was better than going out there looking like Chucky’s bride.

You opened the bathroom door, feeling cold once again. Now that your body temperature was going back to normal, you felt cold walking around naked.

Jack was standing in the middle of the room, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else.

It should be illegal for someone to look this good after rearranging my organs.

“I picked some of my clothes for you. You won’t be sleeping in my bed with Nico’s ugly jersey,” he raised his brow, looking truly upset with Nico’s shirt.

You smiled. “It’s fine. I’m not going to spend the night. That is against the rules of a one night stand.”

It felt stupid to say shit like that, but it was true. Now that the sex drive was going away, you regained some of your senses and confidence and you knew that being a clingy bitch wouldn’t get you anything.

“I mean, I can sleep in my guest room if sleeping with me makes you uncomfortable, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go back to your house alone at one in the fucking morning.”

“I know how to take care of myself, Hughes,” you heard yourself saying and you wanted to slap yourself. Where did the attitude even come from anyway? “Besides, I’ll just get an Uber.”

“The fuck you will,” he laughed— he actually laughed. You couldn’t believe it. “Lay down. With how hard I fucked you, you should be like Aurora from Sleeping Beauty anytime now.”

You suppress a giggle, giving in. So easy. “You’re annoying as fuck.”

“Funny, you didn't say that when I was eating your pussy.” He shrugged and climbed on the right side of his bed.

Your face went all shades of red.

“Come on, Sophia. Think about your poor consequences tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes and climbed on his king sized bed. He wrapped his hands around your waist and you put your head in his chest, and listened to his heartbeat until you fell asleep.

He was right. You could manage the consequences tomorrow.

[leviscolwill]

read your mind (smau)

pairing: ollie bearman x singer!reader

in which: ollie is his gf's most supportive fan and you're the most supportive wag (face claim: sabrina carpenter)

notes: my first socmed au ever !! this was so so much fun to write hehe, i don't know if it's too long or too short for this kind of story so lmkkk. also yn.fm is yourname.fm (bc music got it ? hahahahaha.....)

now playing: read your mind by sabrina carpenter (emails i can't send)

yn.fm

liked by gracieabrams, olliebearman, and 472.332 others

yn.fm cooking a little something 👩‍🍳🤭

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user57 ALBUM SOON

yn.fm maybe, maybe not 🤭

olliebearman who let her cook ⁉️⁉️

yn.fm UR SO MEAN

olliebearman haha i love you

olliebearman

liked by yn.fm, arthurleclerc, and 67.843 others

olliebearman aaand we're back ! very excited about my first season in f2, many good things to come 😁👍

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prema_team Let's go Ollie !

yn.fm ROTY AWARD INCOMING

yn.fm I CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO WIN EVERY RACE

olliebearman who are you ?

yn.fm oliver answer the phone NOW 😁

yn.fm

liked by olliebearman, taylorswift and 861.989 others

yn.fm SURPRISE !!! my debut album 'email i can't send' is dropping on april 27th 2023 💌 i'm so so so excited to share these stories with you, tell me which track you're claiming in the commentssss 🫶

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user44 NONSENSE IS ABOUT TO BE MY TOP SPOTIFY WRAPPED SONG I CAN FEEL IT

olliebearman good choice 👍

yn.fm stop influencing my babies 😡

olliebearman just appreciating their taste love 🤷‍♂️

olliebearman they're so not ready

olliebearman not our little secret anymore :(

yn.fm i'll share other secrets with u dw 🤭

olliebearman

liked by scuderiaferrari, yn.fm, and 98.089 others

olliebearman so happy with this weekend's results! hoping for many other wins for the rest of the season :)

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yn.fm MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN

yn.fm 🐻celona 🤭🫶

yn.fm so leng

olliebearman stop this madness

scuderiaferrari Complimenti Ollie 👏

olliebearman grazie mille team !

yn.fm @olliebearman stop pretending you can speak italian on main

olliebearman @yn.fm you're about to get blocked

yn.fm

liked by flolikethis, alferdoflores and 980.421 others [tagged: olliebearman]

yn.fm nonsense video out tomorrow starring my favourite boy ever !!!

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user98 the highway is looking rlly comfy rn

olliebearman i caught the l-o-v-e

yn.fm so corny

olliebearman ??? they're your lyrics

yn.fm no ❤️

olliebearman am i your favourite actor as well ?

yn.fm not you thinking you can top ryan gosling

olliebearman 😞

yn.fm

liked by renee_downer, dennis_hauger and 875.385 others

yn.fm yk i luv a london boy !! uk tour starts tonight 😎

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olliebearman actually i'm from essex

yn.fm 'actually i'm from essex' 🤓☝️

olliebearman the british slander was a bit unnecessary

user68 i'm so excited to see you tonight xx

yn.fm i can't wait to see your cute faces my loves 🥹

formula2

liked by kimi.antonelli, roynissany and 57.998 others

formula2 Bearman to receive post-Feature Race time penalty at the #BritishGP.

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yn.fm booo you whore

user15 ariana what are you doing here ??

user66 LMAOO Y/N ON YOUR PUBLIC ACCOUNT ???

user98 @user66 her pr team must be so tired

yn.fm literally underserved

user39 so real of you

user07 so sad about ollie's penalty, on his home race as well :(

olliebearman

liked by prema_racing, nyckdevries, and 78.054 others

olliebearman i wish this weekend would've ended on a better note, but i'd like to thank everyone for the support there ❤️

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yn.fm so happy that i got to see you do what you love at your home race 🫶

yn.fm you were perfect ilysm

olliebearman love you ❤️

olliebearman

liked by clementnovalak, jakcrawford_ and 178.652 others [tagged: @yn.fm]

olliebearman happy one year to the most beautiful, hardworking and kind person on earth. here's to many many many other summers with you my love

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yn.fm I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ARGH

olliebearman i love you more 😁

paularon_ @olliebearman eww

yn.fm my swiftie bf

olliebearman you basically brainwashed me into a swiftie but okay

yn.fm

liked by oliviarodrigo, lissiemackintosh, and 1.003.581 others [tagged: olliebearman]

yn.fm happy anniversary to my lover, i'm so happy our paths crossed because i don't even know what i would do without you !! i love you more than words can say 🫶

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olliebearman my pretty girl !! i love you so much ❤️

yourbsf @olliebearman can i get her back now

olliebearman @yourbsf maybe tmrw

yourbsf @olliebearman it's been a week bearman 😐

olliebearman @yourbsf joint custody is so complicated with you

yn.fm @olliebearman @yourbsf HELLOO ??

[citricacidprince]

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer, plucking out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Why Her? Part 2 - Mathew Sturniolo

a/n: I heard ya'll loud and clear!!! Here's a part 2. I also know you guys want part 2 of Just Go so that will be out soon too! I got you guys dw!!

Warnings: Swearing, arguing, angst, fluff, tension.

Summary: You and matt decided one last time you'd fuck, but now it seems you miss it... and he does too.

Part 1: why her

It's been a few months since you last saw or even spoke to matt. That didn't stop you from keeping up to date with this life. Recently him and Maria made it public on the internet and safe to say.. the fans weren't having it. It's not because he's taken, it's because they've all noticed the behaviour nick and Chris have been trying desperately to open matt's eyes too.

Currently, you're at home getting ready for the gym when you get a knock on the door. "Matt?" You open the door and he stands there anxiously awaiting your presence. "Oh uh hey.." He doesn't even look like he wants to be here. "Why are you here." You don't hide your cold heartedness. Memories from that night replay in your head, "One more time" "Never again". It hits you like a ton of bricks.

"I umm can i come in?" "does your gf know you're here?" He scoffs and roles his eyes before pushing past you into your house. "We need to talk." "About what" he's silent for a moment. "That night." Your heart starts beating faster and your hands become sweaty, suddenly you feel like you've already been to the gym and ran 10 miles on top of that. "Why."

He starts walking closer. "It meant more to me, YOU mean more to me." Your walls immediately go up. "No. no. you have a gf and you chose her." He grabs your wrist. "Please." "Matt no. You JUST announced her to your fans. Theres nothing to say. Im not staying secret, i'm not fucking you because she cant fulfil your needs. If you want me you pick me."

You can see he's starting to get angry. "You were all i wanted. And you couldn't see it." "How was i supposed to see it matt?! I was too busy wondering if you actually wanted me in that way! you need to be real with yourself and me and stop pussying around!" All of a sudden you were up against the wall, his lips too close for comfort, his arms barricading you in. "You want me to be straight up?! Its you. It always was and it always will be. I tried to move on, yet every night i wish i was wrapping my arms around you. Every dream i have is with you. every time i put my dick inside her i wish it was you. Because i am in love with you."

You stare at him, not knowing if you should say something or kiss him but before you say anything he kisses you, you kiss him back with no hesitation. "I need you. This isn't just a fuck for me. You are the girl i want, the one i need" "You know that i want you the same. But i can't sneak around like this matt. It's me or her." you pray that he chooses you. "Then give me a month. She'll be gone by then. If not, you never have to give me a chance again.. i should go."

He walks out without saying anything. Lets pray she's gone by the end of next month.

A/N: I know this isn't the part 2 you wanted and its short BUT i've been trying to think of what to write for the last couple days and i don't want to overdo smut, sooooo if you guys want a part 3.. i'll definitely make it more smut filled yet have a storyline towards a conclusion, and honestly depending on how well this story does i may turn it into a wattpad story (if anyone even uses wattpad anymore) lmkkkkk

[genderlessdude92]

PRECIOUS

PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

WORDS: 1.7k

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.

Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!

Which made you really, really paranoid.

“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.

Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.

“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.

“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.

Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.

You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”

Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”

You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.

“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”

“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)

“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.

You felt like nothing.

Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.

His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.

***

It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.

It had also been a week since you came out of your office.

You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?

Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.

You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.

You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.

***

Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.

An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.

But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.

But, now he was confused.

What happened with Y/N?

He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.

He was starting to miss her.

…he needed to give her an apology.

But he knew he wasn’t good with words.

So, he brainstormed.

“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”

He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.

“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”

He sat there for a while longer, thinking.

Then it hit him.

***

You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.

You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.

“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”

You just stared at him, saying nothing

‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”

“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”

“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.

“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.

You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.

Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.

“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.

“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.

You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”

Alastor knew exactly why, as well.

He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.

“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.

You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.

He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.

***

You and Alastor missed this.

Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.

Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.

You were still crying.

He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”

You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.

He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.

You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.

He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.

You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.

He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.

Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.

“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.

“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”

You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.

“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,

“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

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END NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!

-Lynn ¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩ Masterlist Link