#im sorry 2 year old anon

[nana2009]

idate and fumus... platonic or romantic idc i just need them..... my rarepair.....

excellent rarepair taste. get a load of the lung cancer duo

[stormyoceans]

MONICA!!!! P’Dol from VV in an upcoming GL!!!!

(I googled her and she’s a doctor too!?!?!? Amazing!!!)

https://www.tumblr.com/kit-teung/765245366809624576/evryone-dont-move-theres-finally-a-butchfemme

SCREAMING SHAKING CRYING THROWING UP SPINNING COUNTERCLOCKWISE ON THE CEILING LEVITATING DOCTOR JEAB LALANA A WIFE TO HER WIFE RAISING CORGIS IRL FINALLY GETTING TO BE A GIRLKISSER ON SCREEN AS WELL AND NOT ONLY SHE’S GONNA BE PLAYING THE MAIN CHARACTER IN A GL SERIES BUT THE SHOW IS GONNA BE ABOUT A BODYGUARD WHO HAS THE POWER TO SEE 3 MINUTES INTO THE FUTURE WHEN SHE DRINKS WATER HAVING TO PROTECT A RICH GIRL FROM GETTING KILLED??????

I FUCKING LOVE TO WIN WINNING AND BEING A WINNER THIS IS TRULY THE TYPE OF HIGH I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO RECOVER FROM THIS IS WHAT I IMAGINE DOING COCAINE FEELS LIKE THE SHOW LITERALLY HAS EVERYTHING I LOVE IM SO EXCITED FOR IT I SIMPLY CANNOT SIT STILL

i'll be sad if this is really going to be her last work as an actress (thanks @ other(?) anon for the link!!!!!) but by god. WHAT A WAY TO LEAVE THE ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY

[eardefenders]

How old are you btw if you don’t mind me asking? Just curious since I saw you’re running an 18+ discord server 🙂

Me? I'm 33. I'll be 34 in June this year.

Asdfhjkl it'd be hysterical though if I was like 14 running the 18+ Discord server. Just taking a drag on my vape like "these mfs weren't here 12 years ago for superwholock. they don't know like I do."

[dovedwings]

b4ndori hyperfixation returned which im happy with but also i gen cannot stand being in that fandom. pain and suffering.

[bbina]

amazing now I'm in chenle hours for the first time in months

all it takes is one hello future song

-🪤

chenle my man 🤤🤤 if i had to save wonbin or chenle,,, i hope wonbin can swim

[teethcake]

Hi~ I just wanted to pop in and say that I think you're a-OK to post whatever you'd like! Even if it's different that how you used to, I'm sure you'll not only learn quick, but be welcomed back with wide arms! I think it's awesome you are researching to try and not offend others, but I don't think you need to be toooo hard on yourself - I believe most people will know you have no ill-intentions :) No need to respond to this, just wanted to reach out to you! Take your time with your return!

<:,,] I want to apologize for being soo absent/ here and there but I cannot express how appreciative I am of the support still. I want to make sure things are not only okay to post but make sure they're fun too! Tbh.. its just Jeff's burn scars. Not only do I want to make them appropriate but I want to learn as I continue to draw him and so on. I do however want and hope people correct me if I happen make a mistake. I dont want to back down from something I did and want to learn! Just like the LJ "creator" thing back when I first started posting Creepypasta again! It taught me and I appreciate it! I want to have fun and spread my interests with you all after all! I'm majorly derailing from the path. Anon, thank you sooo much for such kind words and reassuring me on everything I said in a post I made a while ago. I am glad you reached out, I been posting again (slowly) on here and twitter and its been... well.. I guess anxious? Im not gonna dive into it, i'm learning to post for fun again and its been going okay <:'] scary a little bit.. but fun! Thank you anon and thank you to tbh, everyone bc I still see some people say words of support T__T it means a lot. I feel like I dont deserve it tbh, let alone people still liking my things still. Ive grown a lot so its like T__T omg.. so thank you anon and I hope whoever sent this can read this too and know i'm grateful for the message <:']

[mysimsyuri]

hi! could you inform me on what a bi lesbian is? don’t mean to come off as rude and you’re not obligated to explain if you want to, but if you could redirect me to some resourced pls do, i’m curious and have seen this term one or two times before! i tried looking but almost everything ive seen either has a confusing definition or is negative, and i’d like to educate myself if possible. ty! :D

hi, tysm for the ask! while im definitely not the guy to speak for all mspec lesbians, i can definitely try my best to help you :]

mspec lesbians are when a person identifies as a lesbian while simultaneously being attracted to other genders, hence the "multi spectrum" (mspec) part of the term. i myself am a bi lesbian, so im just going to use that as an example, but there are also pan lesbians, omni lesbians, it goes on. (there are also mspec gays, but people dont seem too pressed about them, and im not gay, so i wont speak on them.)

there are a lot of reasons someone could identify as a bi lesbian, like if theyre romantically a lesbian while being bi*sexual*, or a bi person with a preference towards women. personally, while i do think lesbianism inherently includes nonbinary people (speaking *as* a nonbinary lesbian), my attraction to nbs is separate enough to warrant the label for both mine and other nbs' comfort. (also i think some guys are attractive lol). but it does vary from person to person!

as for the history, bi people using lesbian as an umbrella term (much like, for example, a bi guy calling themself gay) since *at least* the 70s.

and as for resources, heres a really helpful carrd i found, as well as just going through the 'mspec lesbian' tag on tumblr has quite a few good posts about the historical usage of the label!

also um. sorry for giving you an entire essay (hyperbole) lol, queer identities and history are a pretty big interest of mine XP

[crescentfool]

the tags you leave on art are always so kind and insightful!

anon!! i've gotten messages like this in the past before and it always makes me smile, so thank you! 🥺💗 i simply have... much love and appreciation for artists that i can't help but write stuff for them...! so it makes me happy that the people who follow me enjoy seeing it too even if i sometimes repeat myself a lot 😂

i hope you have a great day anon! and that you continue to enjoy my tags, but also other wonderful things in ur life!! (sends good vibes to u!! ✨)

[minarinnn]

girl dinner anon here please can I have more crumbs of Kunigami and Barou your writing for them was so good and I haven’t seen anything new for them in a while 😭🙏

I dunno if I want anything specific- maybe like breeding or something but you can do whatever your heart desires desires 🙏🙏🙏🙏

OMG I ENJOYED WRITING THAT SM NGL, this took longer than expected but honestly it’s bc i kinda forgot to post it so yh sorry for the delay lmao

content/trigger warnings: afab! reader, characters are aged up, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, degrading, praising, groping, rough sex, implied size kink

BAROU

barou always pulled out. he didn’t mind it. there was never any real desire to get you pregnant. that was until he saw you with his baby nephew at a family event. the kid was around 2 years old and you spent almost the whole night fussing over him

you played, fed, and even cuddled with him. he saw his nephews sleeping figure in your arms as your soft hands caressed his back. he doesn’t know why but barou felt all tingly inside. he never had the urge to do it but the thought of you carrying a kid that looks exactly like him turned him on immensely

so when you get to your shared apartment and barou pounces on you, you think nothing of it. you’re like putty in his big, rough hands. you really couldn’t get enough of him

the way his dick stretched you out perfectly, bruising your cervix as you moaned out his name. your pretty nails scratching and leaving marks along his back while his heavy balls smacked against your ass

your eyes rolling back over his rough pacing that immediately makes you go dumb on his fat cock. his hands groping all over your body as he growls lewd things in your ears that make you clench impossibly harder on his dick

“it hasn’t even been ten minutes and you’re already dumb on my cock, huh? you pretty little slut” the words making you whine and your eyes water. “i’m gonna fuck my baby into you” he grunted, reaching deeper into your soaking cunt “you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty?”

you nod, babbling incoherent words as your second orgasm washed over you, making you buck your hips towards him. “i’m’a make you a fuckin’ mommy” is the last thing he said before dumping his seed into your cunt, thrusting it deep into you, making you take every single drop

KUNIGAMI

kunigami has always been a big family guy so the though of having a family of his own always excited him. but when you said you didn’t wanna have kids yet, he respected it. though he did have the habit of asking questions like ‘when do you think you’ll be ‘ready?’ ‘how many do you wanna have?’ ‘do you want any at all?’

so when you told him you were getting off the pill, not because you wanted children, but because of the side effects that came with it, he was oddly weird about it. maybe it was because he enjoyed cumming inside of you and now he had to pull out

the next few times go by with him pulling out, he didn’t like doing it, but he respected you and your wishes. as much as he’d like to dump his cum into you like he used to, he knew he had to restrain himself

but when the words “im ready” and “please cum inside” slip out of your mouth while he’s pounding his dick into you, he goes feral. his pace immediately picks up, making you moan in pleasure as his thrust went from gentle and loving to rough and quick

kunigami’s mind was filled with images of your belly growing and your boobs heavy and sore. the thought of you carrying his baby just fueled him to the max

you could feel his dick twitching within your gummy walls as his lips feverishly kissed along your entire body, his thumb rubbing circles on your thigh. “you’re gonna be such a good mommy” his sweet words contrasted his rough pace. you could feel his big cock pushing past your cervix and his breeder balls smacking against your plush ass

with a few more thrust and a few whines, he painted your walls white. resting his sweaty body on top of yours while he kissed your shoulder. both your chest’s heaving up and down while your hand roamed his fluffy orange hair

“i hope we have twins”

© MINARINNN 2023 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[visceral-reject]

I know it didn’t win the poll but I humbly ask you to write that RZ! Micheal Myers size kink fanfiction whenever you have the time and if you are feeling up to it🙏

{this is so late and I sincerely apologize TvT}

Sedatives

Tags: Dub-Con, Size Kink, Rough Sex, Choking, Manhandling, Reader is mentions to be a nurse some time ago, blood, knives, overstimulation, Michael is a warning himself. a/: this will most likely be one out of 2 parts anon im so sorry TvT

Sweet thing you were, you’d give the shirt off your own back if someone in need called for it, so giving and so trusting to even the most hardened criminals. It was a wonder how someone like you graced the halls of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. You, a star-eyed nurse fresh from medical school. The scum and slime that riddled the halls of the hellish “sanctuary” you’d been accepted into. You skip down the halls with your checklist and medicine cart in tow. You were kind. You were happy. You’d given patients who’d hadn’t seen the sun in years the same kindness as one would give to an old friend. But you favored one more than the others.

Michael fucking Myers.

Silent halls.

Odd shadows.

Creaking wheels.

The usual ambiance of Smith’s Grove had finally settled within your nerves after a long long few months. You, with your now worn in uniform, counted the rooms with an intent gaze. On the left, even numbers, and parallel to them were odds. Though it was a weird concept, there was a reason. Those on the left, the doctors deemed ‘safe’ and had the possibility of rehabilitation.

Inmates that resided on the right wing however, well you didn’t quite know if you’re being honest, you weren’t allowed to even breath the wing’s direction yet. But one digresses. Your low heels made a blunt click click click upon the cold floors as you neared your station, medicine cart in tow. Your manicured hand reached for your ID, ringing yourself in as the loud pang alerted you of the unlocked status of the door, which was shoved open by your hip as you passed a polite nod to security. Your trek was cut short however, your overseer tugging you aside with a rather harsh hand.

“ You’re the medicine girl right?”

medicine girl…right. Giving a curt nod he sighed, his breath reeking of cheap coffee and some kind of alcohol. His orders were short, clipped and rather rude. Though the next words he uttered left your mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“ You’re doing both wards. Kirsten…had an incident. “

Fucking hell.

So now, here you were, approaching your last patient for the night. With security stalking behind you with scowls as they glared at patients through the tiny windows. You gulps, it was never patients that scared you, no. It was the sleazes that worked outside the cells. Their wolffish stares and ugly grins. You shook your head, you were approaching Michael’s cell.

You didn’t know much about him, only whispers of the monster, the brute that killed most of his family. A grade A killer, someone that should be locked away from society if not for Mr. Loomis’s need to study him like some kind of bug. But, you being you, wouldn’t let that stop you from being kind. That’s what irked you most about people here, these patients were still human at the end of the day. They still bled, they still died, they had interests and dislikes and personalities. You sighed, eying the dainty wrist watch. ‘ Just an hour and a half..’ you thought as some scum of a man unlocked the heavy metal door. Eying you as you motioned him to move aside.

“ Careful, he hasn’t seen such a young thing like you in a while…might finally remember he’s got a cock. “ the guard, who’s tag read Pierson, chuckled, elbowing his colleague. You could feel their gaze raking across your body, internally you gagged. Lurching forward was a far easier than you wanted to admit, medicines and needles clattering at the motion as the door slammed behind you, leaving you to jump.

Michael’s room was…interesting looking at it.

Buzzing overhead lights gave some relief as you tended to your cart, organizing the arrangement of pills and sedatives in their respective cup to serve to the inmate, who’s back was turned to you, fiddling with another mask that would surely find its way with the rest that perched upon the greening walls. Finally, you found the correct assortment. Smiling to yourself, you turned to face the mountain of a man.

“ Alright Mr.Myers, here’s your dailies! Dr. Loomis upped your sedatives so if you feel a bit off thats the cause! “ you chirped, leaving the cup a bit of a distance. Like you’d heard from the other nurses, Michael gave no indication of acknowledgment, hands stained with the glue-water mixture. The masks on the wall drew your attention, though you didn’t dare raise a hand to touch the precious things, knowing how it felt to have your art defiled by ignorant hands. “ You have a lovely night Mr. Myers! The mask are gorgeous as well! Truly a work of art. “ you smiled, warmth radiating from your aura.

Oh sweet thing. What have you done?

[chunniwritesalot]

mrs. alonso - fa14 smau - part 2

i jut cant help myself chat

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 a

cw: nothing really! none of the photos used except the one below this is mine! all of them are from pinterest

fernando and y/n have been married for 18 years now, but their love has been the same since they met 26 years ago.

information: spanish speaking! reader, fem! reader, you have 2 daughters- one is 18 and one is 5. you and claire ann stroll are best friends! this is really just how i see old people using social medias 😭

Francesca or Fran is your OLDER daughter and Rubi is your YOUNGER daughter.

(in the tweets it was y/o/d which stood for your older daughter but i ultimately decided to name the kids just so it was a little easier for me! i don’t feel like changing the tweets so…)

-start-

---

"mama!" fran called out as she walked downstairs into the kitchen. rubi was doing her homework at the counter as fernando and y/n cooked dinner- some seafood dish that smelled absolutely amazing. fran plopped herself down on the seat next to her younger sister and watched her parents. fernando turned to her from the stove and raised an eyebrow, "hm mami?" he asked her. the oldest daughter rolled her eyes, "papa, i wasn't talking to you" she sighed, fernando grinned, shaking his head, "mama and i are basically the same" he chimed, turning back to the stove, y/n chuckled and turned to fran "yes, mija?" she asked, smiling at her eldest, she was such an angel. fran pulled out her phone and showed her mother the tweet. y/n frowned, "no posts from mrs. alonso?" she read out, raising her eyebrow, "posts from what? why are they getting weaker? do you know this person?"

francesca sighed, "mama they want you to post on your instagram, thats what they mean."

y/n's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, "hmph, i didn't know people were waiting on me to post... fernando, did you know this?" fernando frowned himself, turning away from the stove once again, "no i didn't know this fact." he too, leaning forward to read the tweet on fran’s phone. he shrugged, "tal vez sea una señal (maybe its a sign)"

---

y/nalonso has posted!

liked by franalo14, landonorris, lance_stroll, fernandoalo_offical, claireannstroll, and 506,980 others

y/nalonso Mi post en Instagram...😘😮

(translation: My post on Instagram)

tagged: @/franalo14 @/fernandoalo_official @/chloestroll @/lance_stroll @/claireannstroll @/lewishamilton @/logansargeant

view comments...

franalo14 everyone thank me!

user1 thank you fran user2 thank you fran user3 thank you fran user4 thank you fran user6, user6, user7, and 580 others have responded...

lance_stroll I MADE IT INTO THE FAMILY POSTS 🤩😍

y/nalonso Hello mijo, please come over...Rubi misses you...thank you...🙃🙃 lance_stroll sounds good...😨 user8 HELP SAVE LANCE NOW.

lewishamilton Thanks for the dinner invite! Amazing food 🙌🙌

fernandoalo_official Thank you Lewis😛 lewishamilton I wasn't talking to you 😅 fernandoalo_official Oh.......😫😥

claireannstroll Amazing photos sister...😘🥰 Come over tomorrow for lunch👯‍♀️👩‍🍳

y/nalonso Sounds like a plan, I will bring some wine Fernando got from Italy...May need to stay over! Can not drive drunk😂😂😂🍷😵 claireannstroll L.O.L!! Sounds risky...😎😏😹 user9 oh to be invited to the stroll alonso hangouts franalo14 @/user9, trust me you do not want to be invited.

fernandoalo_official So hot😫😍

fernandoalo_official No puedo dejar de pensar en ti...😏😲 (translation: I can't stop thinking about you)

fernandoalo_official Eres el postre perfecto para una cena romántica 😍😋 (translation: You’re the perfect dessert for a romantic dinner) <thank you to the anon that helped me translate this 💗> user10 why is nando replying to himself this cannot be real

y/nalonso Thank you husband😏🤪🥺

user11 MRS. ALONSO YOU HAVE TO REPLY TO THE COMMENT 😭 y/nalonso Oh...please do not cry at my mistake...I am very sorry😯😓💗 user11 @/y/nalonso wait mother im sorry 💔 user12 @/user11 shes a little confused but she got the spirit

chloestroll such a fun beach trip with you, aunt y/n! can't wait to see you again soon 💕💕

y/nalonso You must come soon...😉

user13 mother has blessed us again!

oscarpiastri mom said thanks for the recipe mrs. alonso

y/nalonso Please tell Nicole to come over again...Oscar... oscarpiastri 😦

logansargeant thank you for inviting riley and i for dinner 😁

y/nalonso Please come again soon, mijo... food will be hard to come by when you are unemployed logansargeant oh... 😨 riley_whittal HELP? user14 SHE VIOLATED LOGAN LIKE IT WAS NOTHING

carlossainz55 ¡Qué bueno verte! (great seeing you!)

fernandoalo_official ¿Cómo te sientes? (how do you feel) carlossainz55 He arruinado mi vida. (i have ruined my life) fernandoalo_official 😬😬

maxverstappen1 P wants to see Rubi again!

y/nalonso Let us arrange a playdate. Rubi likes playing the Dressing game on Robux🎮🎮with P🫛I am in 🇲🇨on the 13-20th.Please text my number Max…

maxverstappen1 Yeah… sounds good 🤨😂

-fin-

my requests are open! if you want to see something special done w this series dont be afraid to ask :)

[bitchimasnake-sss]

one last time ft. vinsmoke sanji!

a/n: continuation of my time travel series as asked by anon!! sanji, lost you when you were both 27. now, three years later, aged 30, the cook travels back in time and sees you again. *cue angst* not proofread, im so sorry for mistakes!

warnings: none!! just my crappy attempts of writing angst tbh

"it makes no sense" nami mumbled, peering down intensely at the old cook as if examining her personal lab rat. the alleged thirty year old had materialized in the main room of the going merry through thin air; and nami had almost knocked him out with her staff.

"nami-swan let me-" the man tried to speak but the red-head cut him off, "you ate a devil fruit and you traveled back in time?"

"you're so gorgeous even when you boss me around-""

"sanji." nami cocked an eyebrow.

sanji sighed lightly, trying to reason, "well, i mean i actually ate like just half a bite of it. i don't think this time travel thing is permanent. i'll be out of your gorgeous hair in just a minute"

"no, you being here isn't the issue." nami corrected herself, "i think im just surprised is all. the idea that there exists something like this is just-"

but someone barged into the room before she could finish.

"what the fuck?" the swordsman looked at sanji, taken aback by the sudden blondie appearance, "he looks awfully like the shit-cook."

"it's nice to see you too, moss-head"

"ah-" nami groaned at the swordsman appearance, "well, i guess i'll explain to everybody. out on deck, both of you"

"why are you so tall?" zoro gave the older cook a nasty look.

"zoro, out."

"why is he so tall-"

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

"so..." the younger, blonde man asked, "you're me but 30?"

the older man shrugged, "yes, pretty much."

"i cannot believe you committed to the bangs look for over a decade, sanji" you giggled, looking from the older version to the younger one.

"if you like it, then i can keep it for the rest of eternity, my love."

you laughed again, sending the cook an amused look, "sure, i like it."

while the younger cook was swooned at your words, sending you a love-struck gaze. the older was busy contemplating whether he wanted to hug you so hard till his ribs broke down and he disintegrated within you, or if he should keep his distance, saving himself all that hurt.

your hair was choppier and the strands moved gently in the wind, the tresses cashmere kisses against your sun-kissed skin. all the signs of aging were absent from your skin, all those signs of you and him together were gone, just like that. as if you and he hadn't existed at all.

there was no scar on your lips from the time you fell down in the dark while sleepy, no cuts on your arms and legs from battles long gone. every evidence of the life you and sanji had built together was gone, leaving a twenty-three year old you behind.

well, technically that life was yet to come. it would take you and his younger version another five months, 23 days and 6 hours till you both got together. atleast, if his calculations were correct.

it would take you another 9 years, 2 months and 4 days to leave him. he knew those calculations by heart.

and so, sanji held back the urge to ask you if you liked two sugars in your coffee right now too? and did you light up when the moon was out in all it's glory? did your favourite constellation stay the same as years passed you by? did you look the same when you kissed him awake? did-

instead, he said nothing and stared at you, transfixed.

when ussop shook the older cook awake, the blonde man gave the younger crew members a pained smile. and when luffy jumped up and down, asking whether the cook still cooked, sanji found himself laughing and offering to make a meal.

atleast, this way, he could resign himself to an old kitchen, boundless memories and endless suffering, away from your ghastly presence.

the door stood ajar and you slipped inside just as silently like you always did when you wanted to surprise him in the kitchen. he looked up from the chopping board, well-versed with every one of your silent exchanges.

"want some help?" you offered, walking over leisurely and standing opposite to the man on the kitchen island.

the man looked down, focusing on not cutting his fingers up, "uh- no, thanks."

"damn, did you change?"

"hm?"

"where's the added "my love", "mon cheri" or "darling" at the end?" you cocked up an eyebrow, giving him a confused look, "don't tell me you lost those with time, that'll be a real shame."

sanji looked up, dumbstruck at you.

ofcourse he didn't. how could he? how could he when you were all that and more to him. under breathy whispers, loud declarations of love and silent hums in the dark of the night, you were every stringed syllable in every language to him.

he must have been silent for too long cause you shook your palm in front of him, paranoia sewn into your skin, "i mean it's okay if you lost it. like, it's not that big of a deal-"

and sanji laughed.

"excuse me? it's not nice to laugh at a lady."

"you looked so adorable like that." he looked down at the chopped vegetables, hands skillfully adding the veggies to the heated pan. then he looked up through his eyebrows, skillfully avoiding your gaze fully, "you're quite cute, love."

"uh-" your ears went red and you looked away, "thanks? y-you too."

"how have you been, yn?" he looked back at the food, his voice was tender. every hitch of the breath was audible against the backdrop of distant laughs from the crew.

"oh?" you replied shocked. then you smiled, "good. i'm good."

"good?" he repeated, ever so slowly as if turning the word on the tip of his tongue to remember the way you said it.

"yeah, i've been good, sanji."

"i'm glad." he pursed his lips, turning his back to you under the lie of fetching bowls from the cabinet.

"what are you cooking?" you asked, leaning over and peering at the vessel on the stove.

even without turning, he said, "you'd lose balance, careful now."

you marveled at the simmering dish, looking at his back and smiling real big, "you're cooking hand-pulled noodles with broth?! i think its my new favourite dish! i tasted it like a few days ago and i've been dying to eat it againn"

sanji smiled, still turned away from you, "is that so?"

as much as sanji prided himself at his ability to identify you from lightyears apart, at his ability to hear you in the noisiest room, he must have not been paying attention.

because you had sneaked up behind him and pressed yourself against his back, giving him a hug. you smiled gummy against his back muscles, "thankyou! thankyou! thankyouuu!!"

sanji froze under your casual touch. after a second, mindlessly, he lay his bigger hands on top of yours, relishing in the way you felt under him. he closed his eyes, trying to etch the moment in his memories. then he smiled again, promising against the thin air, "i will make you this as many times as you ask me."

"really?" you beamed again, letting go and standing beside him, "promise me?"

"i promise you." he gave you curt nod, melting under every one of your happy dance moves.

"now i would bother you for the rest of our lives." you stuck out your tongue at the blonde man.

"i would rather not be bothered by anyone but you, my love."

"aww-"

"hey geezer." the younger cook stood at the door, eyeing the negligible distance between you and the older man, "get away from yn-chan, you fucking pervert."

"rich coming from you, mr. nosebleed" the older man gave the younger a dirty look.

"HEY THATS NOT MY FAULT"

"SAAAANJI" luffy whined from outside, "ARE YOU DONEEE? WE'RE STARVINGGGG-"

vinsmoke sanji, aged thirty, yelled back "YEAH LEARN TO WAIT SOME MORE."

"YOU'RE SO MEAN SANJI! I MEAN- OLDER SANJI? I MEAN SANJI??- alee? I MEAN THE COOK OF MY SHIP?? NO, THE COOK OF MY FUTURE SHIP-"

"JUST SHUT UP LUFFY." the two blondes yelled in unison and you laughed one last time, lighting up the kitchen on fire.

oh wait, no. that is just the smoke due to the burning veggies in the pan.

well, fuck.

atleast you were laughing. and sanji would have killed entire nations to see that sight again, so, what were a few vegetables for the sacrifice?

[ooo-yeah-baby]

im the anon from earlier lol

can i request a yandere gilbert blythe where it's his and the readers' wedding day? and then maybe including at the end them "cuddling" in bed together but it's really him holding her tightly whispering about some future together while she cries

sorry if that's a little morbid, i just thought it'd be a cool part two to the first one you posted

Arranged Pt 2

Yandere Gilbert Blythe x reader

I only write sfw, feel free to make requests. Thank you for asking!! Kinda short and not proof read. Enjoy :)

I love you..." his voice rings in your ears. 

"You're so beautiful..." his words make your skin crawl. 

"Are you listening?" You have no choice. 

From the moment your mother made you let him in to the note on the school board to shuffling down the isle this morning, you were miserable. 

Possibly the only enjoyable part of this was seeing how proud your mother was the whole way through. She had fixed up her old wedding dress and fitted it to you. She made you up like a doll for the ceremony. And as your father walked you down the isle you could see tears falling from her eyes. He was so happy. It would have been discomforting if you had thought too much into it though.

Gilbert stared in astonishment as you walked down the aisle in the church. When you arrived at the altar you wanted so badly to repeat the same actions as  Prissy had. Run out of the church and into the field. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

After the ceremony the reception was held. Your family and friends all told stories of both you and Gilbert- which were very much exaggerated for the occasion. 

Anne had written a poem, Josey made a few snide comments, Ruby talked up every interaction you'd had with Gilbert as if she hadn't been in love with him just a year ago.

It all made you so sick that you couldn't even swallow your food. 

Finally you were here. In Gilbert's home. Bash in the room next door caring for his baby, and Gilbert hugging you from behind, his face in the crook of your neck. 

"Are you listening Y/N?" He repeats, giving your body a small squeeze. You nod, tears sliding down your cheeks and over your nose. "I'm sorry..." he takes a deep breath. 

"For what?" You ask, knowing the answer. He'd done this countless of times in the last few months. Apologizing but never changing. 

"I want you to be happy..." you don't respond. It's easier to tune him out. "I'm aware you didn't want thus marriage..." you've fought him every step of the way on this. "So I'm sorry for forcing this onto you..." he's not sorry. He's quite right happy with himself. "But I do love you." The tears begin streaming down your face. "and I'll make sure you're happy. We can have a happy little family- if you want!" He stutters a bit. "We don't have to have kids if you don't want any. It's up to you." He thinks for a second. "It could just be us- and Bash and Delphine, of course."

This isn't love, to you. It's possession. It's kidnapping. It's grotesque and disgusting. Love is supposed to be flowery and sweet.

Maybe you could've had a real romance if Gilbert had approached you correctly; Walked up to you in class, talked to you about your day, invited you over for a nice meal and took your wants and needs into consideration. But that's not what he did. He went to your parents, who gave him his guaranteed spouse. It was as if nothing you thought or felt mattered. 

"I love you, Y/N..." he leans over and kisses you on the cheek. "You don't have to say it back." Then reaches over and blows out the candle. 

You rub your eyes dry and your cheek raw. 

[slvtforfiction]

Hi I think your request are open. 😭

Anyways I have a prompt where it’s like Jonnie meets a fan and like later on he kind stalks her media and accidentally likes something for an old emo phase and she dms him “??” And it just spirals from there into something cute?

An old phase,A new like

☆ Yesss!

☆ Love this,thank you anon x

☆ Sorry it’s so short

☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader

☆ Fluff

☆ If you are going to request: please check at the pinned post if requests are open,otherwise I will delete your requests which I have already been doing

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

Masterlist | Pinned post

“So today we are-“ I look down at my phone as a notification pushed past my do not disturb, Johnnie Guilbert like your photo.

I knew Johnnie,we had text back and forth for a while about doing a video idea even though we had never done it. I had met him at a convention and most likely acted like the biggest fan girl alive.

I clicked on the notification and saw that the like was a photo from 2020,almost 4 years ago.

You:

Liking photos from 2020,huh?

Johnnie:

Sorry didn’t mean to.

You:

Nooo it’s okay sorry lol

Johnnie:

Okay good lol,thought you were mad

You:

No,no lol

Johnnie:

So how are you?

2 weeks later,

“I’ll see you again next week? Maybe another date?” I ask with a schoolgirl smile on my face, “Yeah ofcourse,I’d love that.” He replied and I smiled,kissing his cheek.

We walked back to my apartment and watched a movie,cuddling up to each other and sharing some popcorn whilst we watched some shitty romcom. Neither of us cared about the movie,though neither of us would say it. We just enjoyed the comfort of each other.

Around nine o’clock Johnnie left,I was sad to see him go but I knew he had an apartment to sleep in so I couldn’t exactly keep him.

6 months later,

“Hey Johnnie!” I smile down the phone,we hadn’t hung out a lot this week but I didn’t mind,opting to sleep on call for the week instead.

“Hey love,you okay?” He asks me and I smile at the nickname, “Yeah,im okay,you?” I ask and I could almost hear his smile.

It was always nice to hear johnnies voice,it had become comforting over the past month or so,despite his energetic attitude. He always knew when it was time to settle down and he always knew what to say and how to say it. It made me envy those closest to him.

“So how was your day?”

1 year later,

“Happy 6 month anniversary!” He said as he hugged me,I smiled and kissed him as I grabbed some chocolates I had bought him.

He handed me some flowers and chocolate and I smiled, “Happy 6 months!” I smiled at him,my face beaming with excitement.

One phone call 6 months ago had led me to become infatuated with him,though I would be lying to say that I hadn’t had a small crush on him since I first text him.

We sat down on his sofa in his apartment and smiled as we put on the same shitty romcom that we always do,it had become our tradition and no one was complaining. As long as I got to snuggle up to the comfort of his chest I didn’t mind.

It had become apparent to both of us that we didn’t really care what we watched as long as we were with each other. I smiled as I snuggled into his chest,something that had become somewhat familiar with us. He snaked his hand around my waist and we sat their in comfortable silence as we admired each other.

2 years later,

“Happy one year!” I say as I wake up next to him in our apartment, “Happy one year.” He smiled at me,clearly as tired as he always was,I smiled at his goofy little smile and kissed him on the cheek.

“I got you something.” Johnnie whispers as he reaches into his draw,on the other side of the bed. He pulls out a ring box and I smile as he opens it, “I got us those Pandora promise rings you like.”He says with a smile. I sit up in bed and shimmy onto his lap pulling him into a deep hug. “Thank you Johnnie!” I almost yell as I kiss all over his face.

“Do you wanna be the moon or the sun?” I ask and he shakes his head “Whatever you want princess.” He chuckles and I immediately give him the moon ring. “Johnnie,we’re literally the sun and the moon.” I smile and he nods his head, “I love you so much,thank you!” I say happily and he smiles at me as he gives me a peck to the lips.

“I got you something too!” I say with a huge smile beaming across my face, I reach into my draw and pull out three wrapped presents. I feel like a parent watching their child open their presents with glee.

“Awh thank you baby!” He says pulling me back in for a hug and I smile,accepting the hug gratefully.

6 years later,

“I love you so much,I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else,Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

“Yes!!!”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if i stopped being friends with my best friend?

this is probably gonna be long and all over the place, sorry.

me and this guy, "ghost", have been friends for around 2 years after i approached him during a pep rally.(we had been acquaintances since childhood). Since then, we have been super close and only grew closer after he got kicked out of our friendgroup and i followed him.

He decided to try to be friends with people from the old group and i decided not to(i hold grudges like a mother fucker, they hurt ghost and i will forever hate them.) and all was fine. We still hung out regularly, but recently he's been pulling away.

He had set a strong boundary recently, around early september. no biting, and less hitting. (i express affection by hitting and biting) and i followed these boundaries perfectly. Around three weeks ago, i accidentally got too excited and bit ghost. He didn't show he was upset, so i apologized quickly and moved on. After that, he seemed somewhat mad at me so i asked about it and he said how uncomfortable it made him that i bit him. I apologized a few more times, and im working on processing some bones to gift him. (bleaching them because he seems like he would enjoy those more than unbleached). Anyhow, every year we make plans together for homecoming and Halloween. This year, he made plans for those things without me. Its fine, but im seeing it as a sign hes done being my friend. he has declined to hang out with me for the past few weekends, which is rare.

Im wondering if i would hurt him if i stop making him hang out with me? I'm thinking of skipping halloween with him and just stop bothering him to hang out. The sorta "if you love him, let him go" kinda thing. I just don't wanna bother him further.

extra details if needed:

i am a pretty mean person in general, i poke fun at ghost often. He does the same thing back usually. I made a few jokes about his mom having cancer at one point, but i stopped once i bothered to read his carrd and it said he disliked those sorts of jokes. I also don't really have any other friends due to my rudeness and everything.

tldr: im kinda mean and my friend doesn't seem to wanna be friends anymore so I'm wondering if i should stop trying.

posting this without anon bc ghost doesn't use tumblr.

What are these acronyms?

[graciegoeskrazy]

she's begging you to stay stay

Matty Healy + preteen!lost!daughter!OFC!r

warnings (buckle up): angst, little fluff, language, absent father, dead mom, cancer, children's home, R IS TWELVE, foster care, insomnia, a lot of these things are mentioned but aren't in graphic detail at all. R HAS A NAME IM TRYING SOEMTHING

a/n: I got this request and was lowk kinds unsure but I just started and couldn't stop typing. im nil a lot of that I post is super short but this like literally like 7 thousand words which Ig is pretty standard but whatevs for me its crazy. I might actually hate this I genuinely haven't decided yet. anon depending on what you think im ether sorry or you're welcome lol <3

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the peeling wallpaper, a million thoughts racing through your mind. You feel a mix of grief and numbness, a strange emptiness you can’t quite shake. The scent of mold and old candles is an odd comfort to the starkness and uncomfort of the room around you. You hear the faint sound of Nora’s voice drifting through the thin walls. You don’t move, just keep staring at your hands in your lap, the same position you’ve held for 3 days now, pretending not to hear the voice on the other side of the wall.

“Is this Matthew Healy?” she says, her voice steady.

“Depends. Who’s this?” The voice on the other end is wary, guarded.

“This is Nora from Wess Hill Children’s Home in London. How are you today?”

She could hear shuffling on the other side. “Fine. What’s this about?”

Nora takes a deep breath, glancing at your continuing. “Mr. Healy, on Tuesday we got a call asking for an emergency placement for a girl. Her mother passed away. She’s 12 years old, name is Matilda Moss - does that ring a bell?”

If you were right next to Nora you would have felt the unamusement in his voice. “‘Fraid not, ma’am.”

Nora’s expression tightens slightly. “Interesting. What I find really interesting is that on her birth certificate, it lists you, Mr. Healy, as her biological father.”

There’s a long pause. “I’m sorry, what?”

Nora sighs, her eyes softening as she looks back at your door again. “I’m sorry you have to find out this way, truly. But I have a home that only fits 24 and a long waitlist of children, so I need to know if I need to send this child into foster care or tell her that her father will be coming to see her.”

“W-Wait a minute. How are we even sure it’s my child? There could be thousands of other white blokes in London with the same name. How can I even believe you? How do I know you’re not a scammer or some idiot trying a prank?”

Nora’s voice remains calm, but there’s still an edge. “Does the name Florence Moss mean anything to you, sir? Ring any bells?”

The line went silent.

“I need to know what it’s gonna be, sir. I’m not trying to inconvenience you either way; I just need an answer.”

You hear a long sigh on the other end. “I-I don’t…I don’t know—”

“She was sick, Matthew. Cancer.”

There’s a heavy silence. Then, Nora speaks again, her voice gentle but firm. “Her will clearly states that in the unforeseen circumstance of death, She wanted her daughter to be placed with her father, you.”

Another pause. “What’s her name again?”

“Matilda George Moss-Healy.”

“And she’s 12?”

“12 and 2 months.”

A soft exclamation, almost a whisper. “Wow. I’ll be there at 3.”

It didn’t matter what Nora could do or say or give you to make you feel better, There was nothing that could be done in order to make the past 3 days not feel like a living hell. There was nothing you, yourself, could physically do to make the permanent ache in your heart disappear. The only thing, you thought, that could make this all go away, that could make this nightmare end, was your mother. But she was gone, and there was nothing that could be done. Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize that in just a few hours, you’ll meet the man you’ve wondered about your entire life.

—-------

If there was one thought that was evidently clear in Matty’s mind, it was that he needed to call George.

His hands trembled slightly as he fumbled for his phone, the sleek device feeling unusually heavy in his grasp. He pressed it to his ear, each ring seeming slower and slower as it rung. He paced the small, cluttered room, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Finally, George’s voice crackled through the line, casual and unbothered. “Sup, dipshit.”

“I just got the strangest call,” Matty said, his voice strong, skipping over the usual pleasantries.

“‘Kay?” George’s tone was wary.

“From a woman working in a children’s home?” Matty continued, his mind still reeling from the conversation.

“What charity they want you to perform now?” George asked, his voice light but curious.

“No, it’s not that.” Matty paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s about Flo? Florence Moss?” Matty’s voice wavered slightly, the name stirring up a flood of memories.

There was a noticeable pause, the air thick with anticipation. “Woah! That’s a name I never thought I’d hear again!” George finally replied, his tone shifting to something lighter, a huge comparison to Matty’s frantic state.

“So that’s a yes?” Matty pressed.

“You kidding? I LOVED Flo. She was like a sister to me! Shame though, innit?” He said, refurrging to the breakup Matty and Florence went through. “Anyways, what about her?” His voice softened.

“She died, George. Couple days ago. Cancer.” Matty’s words were blunt, but they carried a heavy weight.

Another long pause followed, the silence almost deafening. “You doin’ a bit? ‘Cause it’s not funny, mate-”

“It’s not a bit. And she had a child.” Matty’s voice broke slightly, the reality of the situation hitting him.

“What?” George’s shock was palpable, even through the phone.

“Who has my name on the birth certificate?” Matty continued, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach.

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Not shittin’ you.”

George was in pure disbelief. “How can you be sure?”

Matty ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. “Um, ‘cause Flo and I were together for like two fucking years and we broke up like 12 years ago and the girl’s age is 12?”

“It’s a GIRL? Oh mate, you’re fucked.” His bluntness would usually make him light, but this time it made him nearly question his entire life.

“Not the sentiment I need right now.” Matty snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“What are you gonna do?” George’s voice was calmer now, but still tinged with concern.

“I-I feel like I have to go get her? Right? Otherwise, she’s off to foster care? I mean, she’s my child. Right? I don’t know. Maybe not.” Matty’s words tumbled out in a rush, his uncertainty evident.

George sighed, a long, weary sound. “I think you’re fucked either way.”

“Oh, thanks sooooo much, Uncle George,”

“No. I mean, if you bring this girl with you, raise her, be a dad, do whatever the fuck, your life is gonna change, right? If you call that woman back, tell her to send her into foster care, although that woman might legally have to tell you ‘Okay. Thank you,’ we both know you would never forget her and maybe even end up regretting that choice.”

Matty stood in silence. He knew his friend was right. No matter what he chose, his life was about to be irrevocably changed. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders, pressing down with a relentless force.

—-------

“Hi, um, I’m looking for Nora?” His voice echoed slightly in the wide, institutional hallway.

“Ah, you must be Matthew. Nice to meet you.” Nora’s voice, though warm, had an undertone of weariness, like someone who had spent years navigating the complicated emotions of others. She shifted uneasily. “I informed Matilda of your…arrival today…and she’s not the happiest about it.”

“Meaning?”

“She won’t come out of her room.”

“Oh. Great.” Matty ran a hand through his hair, worry clear on his face.

“Just…keep in mind she’s still mourning.” Nora’s sing-song voice couldn’t hide the gravity of the situation. She led him down a narrow hallway, the walls adorned with children’s drawings and faded motivational posters. The scent of old wood, cleaning supplies, and the faintest hint of sadness hung in the air.

“Tilly! Someone’s here to see you.” Nora’s voice called out cheerfully, a futile attempt to coax you out.

“Matilda! Come on out, darling, it's alright.” She paused, listening for any sound of movement. “You know I have the key right here; I can just open it if I wanted to.” Nora said, voice comedic for the times. “Tilly, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

After a silent few seconds, she took her ring of keys and picked one to unlock your door.

Inside your room, you sat curled up on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest. The peeling wallpaper, once probably a cheerful pattern, now seemed to close in around you, a suffocating reminder of the world outside your door. The scent of mildew and the faint smell of your mother’s perfume clung to your clothes, creating a strange, bittersweet comfort. Nora’s voice penetrated the cocoon of silence you’d wrapped yourself in.

“Tilly, this is Matthew.” Nora’s voice softened, a hint of sympathy in her words. “He’s here to take you home, my love.”

You visibly winced at the word ‘home.’ Home was a concept that had shattered the day your mother died.

Nora took a step towards your bed, slowly rubbing your back in order to coax you to come out. “Why don’t you sit up, my love?” Nora said gently. You didn’t move.

She sighed. “C’mon, Tills.”

With a heavy sigh, you slowly uncurled yourself and sat up.

Matty felt out of place, a stranger in a place that was the closest thing you had to refuge.

“I’ll just leave you two alone for a moment. I’ll be right outside.” Nora closed the door softly, leaving you and Matty in an awkward silence.

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. The room seemed to shrink around him as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’ve gone through a lot in the past 48 hours,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his own emotions was evident, and he hesitated, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red from crying. The raw pain and vulnerability in your gaze made his heart ache. “You don’t have to take me with you out of…guilt,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to be here now just because you didn’t want to be here before.” The accusation hung in the air, a heavy reminder of his absence in your life.

He winced, the truth of your words cutting deep. “It’s not guilt, Matilda,” he replied, taking another step closer. “I genuinely didn’t know. If I had, things would have been different. I would have been there for you and your mother.” His voice broke slightly, the regret palpable. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m here now because I want to be. Because you deserve better than what you’ve been given.”

You studied his face, searching for any sign of dishonesty. His eyes were earnest, the sorrow in them mirroring your own grief. “Why didn’t she tell you?” you asked, the question that had been gnawing at you since you learned the truth.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the unknown. “Maybe she thought it was for the best. Maybe she was scared. I wish I had the answers, but all I can do now is be here for you.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken questions and the ghosts of what might have been. “I’ve spent my whole life wondering about you,” you finally said, your voice barely audible. “And now you’re here, and I don’t know what to think.”

He nodded, understanding the turmoil within you. “I can’t change the past, Matilda. But I can promise you this: I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and cared for. I’ve got a house, with a nice room, food, and I think staying there would be better than the rotting twin mattress you’re sitting on in the smallest room I have ever seen that’s probably infested with black mold.”

“Everywhere in London has black mold,” you muttered, a hint of defiance in your voice.

“Mine might have less?” He offered a tentative smile. “Come home, Matilda.”

“I don’t have a home. Not anymore.” Your voice was barely a whisper, the pain of loss weighing heavily on your words.

“I’m not saying this has to be forever. If you want to leave and go live with someone else, then that’s fine by me, but if you don’t come with me tonight, they’re gonna put you in foster care with a family who more than likely won’t give a shit about you.” He paused, gauging your reaction. “She didn’t tell you that, did she?”

You shook your head, the reality of the situation sinking in. “I don’t want you to go somewhere without knowing that you’ll be safe.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He looked surprised, almost disbelieving.

You paused once more, “...Okay.”

—-------

Matty let you be for a moment as he told Nora about the news. She was overjoyed and surprised as well. They let you know that Matty would be taking you home. As they talked, your mind wandered, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling within you. You glanced around the room, noticing every detail—the worn carpet, the sagging ceiling, the chipped paint on the window sill. Everything felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a dream you couldn't wake up from.

You tried to grab his attention, your thoughts racing. You almost called out saying ‘Dad’ but stopped yourself just in time, the word feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue. The idea of calling him that seemed too intimate, too close for someone who had been a stranger just hours ago. Your mother had always been careful with her words when you asked about your father. She painted vague pictures of him, always avoiding specifics. Now that he was here, standing just a few feet away, the reality of his presence was overwhelming.

Would ‘Matty’ be awkward? He was indeed your father, but calling him that didn’t feel right either. You had no shared history, no foundation of familiarity. The name felt too casual, too friendly for someone who had suddenly appeared in your life amid the chaos and grief. You felt a pang of frustration, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you.

As you struggled with your thoughts, you offered a simple “Hey,” to get his attention instead. Your voice was soft, almost tentative, as if testing the waters of this new, uncertain relationship. He turned to you, his expression a mixture of relief and anxiety, mirroring the storm of emotions within you.

He responded with a gentle smile, his eyes searching yours for a connection. "Hey," he replied, his voice warm but cautious. In that moment, you both stood on the precipice of an unknown future, bound together by circumstance and the fragile hope that perhaps, in time, you could find your way to each other.

“I’m all ready to go, I think.”

“Awesome. I’ll get your things in the car.” He moved to gather your suitcases, his movements quick and efficient.

Nora hugged you tightly, her smile warm and genuine. “I’m happy for you, Matilda. You’ve been through a lot these past few days, and you’re doing so good.”

“Thank you for your help, Nora.” Your voice was soft, but there was a hint of gratitude in your words.

Her smile deepened as she led you from the desk to the front door. “I hope you know it comes from a good place when I say, I hope I never see you again.” The words made you laugh for the first time in three days, just a little, but it was a victory Nora cherished.

Matty muttered a few words when joining you in the car after bidding farewell to Nora. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at him.

“You allergic to dogs? I’ve got one. His name is Mayhem. Weird name for a dog, I know, but it suits him—not that he’ll be a problem or anything. He’s a good boy.” He tried to fill the silence, his voice almost nervous.

“Do you usually not talk this much?” You shrugged, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery.

“Only when my mom dies.” Your words were blunt, a stark reminder of the grief still fresh in your heart.

Oh, so she definitely has my humor. Matty thought to himself, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. The drive was filled with awkward silences and hesitant attempts at conversation, but beneath it all was a shared sense of loss and a fragile hope for something better.

—-------

The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow over the cluttered room. You continue to scroll on your phone as you pull the worn, thin blanket back over your shoulders. A yawn crosses your features. It wasn't your plan to be up at 3 a.m., but insomnia has become a close friend since your mother passed away. It's been three weeks and four days since you moved in with Matty. He made it very clear from the beginning: if you didn’t want to live with him, that was fine. He was in full support of whatever you wanted, as long as you were safe. He was ready and willing to have the conversation with you as soon as possible. Having your mother die of cancer, meeting your father for the first time, burying your mother, adjusting to a new life you had no clue you would be living just a month ago, and so on and so forth took its toll. You started to worry that the waiting game of seeing how long this quiet could last was starting to run out.

The footsteps walking down the steps and into the kitchen pulled you out of your drowset state. It was matty, dress in blue lounge pants and shit, complete with a random flannel that you would bet he just picked up off the floor and threw on before he come downstairs,

"Good morning," he says with a yawn, his voice low but still awake, a stark comparison to your drowsiness.

"It's 3 a.m.," you reply, your voice tinged with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

"Yeah, it's the morning," he says, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. He holds out a steaming mug, the rich aroma of coffee wafting towards you. "Want some?"

"Sure," you say, accepting the mug and wrapping your hands around it, savoring the warmth that seeps into your skin.

You take a sip, the bitter taste jolting you awake. You look anywhere except his direction."You a musician?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," he nods, taking a seat across from you. "You?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head. You watch him, trying to piece together the fragments of your mother’s stories with the reality in front of you.

“Do you know why my mom used to tell me I was named after my father and an ‘old friend.’"

"‘Old friend’?" he echoes, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, my middle name. Matilda came from ‘Matty’,you knew that, but where did my middle name come from?” you continue, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability.

"What's that again?" he asks, leaning forward slightly, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. Also trying to not secretly swell with love as he was reminded of your similarities.

"George. Matilda George."

"George. Your middle name is George?" He looks at you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Jeez, I know it’s a guy's name but you don’t have to be a dick about it—" you snap, feeling defensive.

"No! No! It’s not that I just…" he trails off, shaking his head. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and walks towards you. "This is George." He shows you a photo, and judging by the state of Matty’s facial hair, it’s a semi recent one. The pair are on what looks like a stage, together. Drum sticks in George’s hand, and a Guitar in your father’s.

"You know him?" you ask, your confusion deepening.

He smirked. "We’ve been best friends since we were 13. Him and your mother were friends since practically birth. He introduced us to each other." He pauses, seeing the confusion etched on your face. "She never mentioned him?"

"She never mentioned you, so," you retort, the bitterness in your voice surprising even you.

You stare into your coffee, the steam rising and swirling in the dim light. You decide to speak up, trying to change the mood hanging in the air. "She also said my father traveled the world a lot, loved his friends, and loved me, but couldn’t take care of me," you say softly, repeating the words your mother had told you countless times. "You travel a lot?"

"Something like that," he replies, his eyes distant as if he's seeing a different time and place.

—-------

Matty didn’t like leaving you for too long, so he kept to working from home as much as possible.​​ Today, he said he needed to help George with something and then he would be back with dinner from your favorite restaurant. He’s done this a few times before and each time, again and again, the urge to play the stunning grand piano situated in the corner of his office grew more. 

You kept away from it. There were even spots or rooms in the house that you kept away from. Even though you and Matty were so much more comfortable, it still felt like there were boundaries, unspoken lines you weren’t sure you could cross. His office was one of those places, a domain you didn’t feel entirely comfortable invading. The grand piano, with its polished ebony surface and ivory keys, seemed like an artifact from another world, a world that you weren’t quite a part of yet.

Today, though, was different. The house was unusually quiet, the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway amplifying the stillness. You wandered through the rooms, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors. You paused by the door to Matty’s office, your hand resting on the doorknob. You glanced around, as if expecting someone to stop you, but the house remained silent.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office was bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the room. The grand piano sat in the corner, almost beckoning you. You walked over to it, your fingers grazing the smooth surface. You hesitated for a moment, then gently lifted the lid.

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the bench. The familiar scent of polished wood filled your senses, bringing back memories of when you used to play. Your fingers hovered above the keys, and then, almost instinctively, they began to move. The first notes were tentative, but as you continued, they grew more confident, filling the room with music.

You closed your eyes, letting the music take over. The melody was a blend of old memories and new emotions, a testament to the changes in your life. The piano seemed to respond to your touch, the sound resonating deep within you. You lost track of time, immersed in the music, the outside world fading away.

You didn’t notice the front door opening or the soft footsteps approaching the office. Matty stood in the doorway, watching you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. He had come home earlier than expected, and the sight of you playing the piano was both unexpected and heartwarming. He leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to interrupt this rare moment.

Once the last notes sounded, he spoke, startling you as you took your hands off the keys. “Sounds beautiful,” he said softly.

You jumped slightly, your fingers slipping off the keys. You turned to see him standing there, a gentle smile on his face.

“When did you get home?” you asked, a bit flustered.

“Just now,” he replied casually, stepping into the room.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity.

“Long enough to realize you lied to me,” he said, his smile turning into a teasing grin.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“You’re a musician! You play piano.”

You paused, thinking, then continued. “Well, you lied to me too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“You never mentioned you were in a band. A really famous one!”

His expression changed. “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you.”

“Why?”

He took a deep breath, his expression softening. “Well, what do you say when you're meeting your 12-year-old daughter for the first time? I don’t know, but I do know it’s definitely not ‘Nice to meet you, I’m famous,’ I’ll tell you that.” You couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “How’d you find out?” He asked.

You adjusted your posture and spoke. “I finally told my friends, and we did an internet deep dive in English class.”

He chuckled. “And I wonder why that’s the only class with a B.” He said, leaving the room as he did so.

You followed behind him, the both of you now making your way to the kitchen. “Is that why she said you traveled a lot? Because you were on those tours?” you asked, the pieces starting to fit together.

“I can only guess,” he replied, shrugging. You sat on one of the bar stools, across from where he was unpacking the groceries and starting to prepare dinner.

“Have you ever met Beyoncé?” you asked, your eyes wide with excitement.

“Only in passing,” he said nonchalantly, keeping his focus down.

You sat up in shock. “Really?!” You asked, mouth agape.

“I mean, yeah. It’s hard not to go to the Grammys and not walk past her and Jay-Z’s table.”

“You’ve been to the Grammys?” you asked, amazed.

“Yeah, we were nominated.”

You honestly couldn;t believe it. While spending that time on the internet earlier, a lot of the pieces were starting to come together. It’s just that you didn’t expect your own father - I guess I should start calling him that now - to be this huge ‘star’. “Shut up! Did you win?”

He laughed and looked you in the eyes. “Do you see a shiny gold trophy in our home? Should’ve though.” You shook your head in amazement. “How long have you been playing?” he asked, after a moment.

You became a bit quiet again, not impressed by the fact the conversation was heading this direction. “I don’t know,”

“What was it that Miss Julia said? About being open and honest with each other or something like that-”

“Ten years,” you interrupted, shooting him an unimmpressed look. He just smiled.

“Wow. How the hell did your mother get a two-year-old to stand still?” He asked.

“Well, I was an angel,” you said, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Really? What happened then?”

You rolled your eyes and let out a slightly dramatic sigh. “Those dad jokes kicked in real fast, didn’t they?”

The room seemed to grow warmer as the two of you shared this moment. The room grew quieter, but it felt different than before. It felt, comfortable. The kind of comfortable silence you only felt with your mother. Even if it wasn’t exact - even knowing you might not ever feel that exact comfortable silence ever again - this one felt nice. It felt…right.

“You know, you’re really good,” He said.

Your eyes followed back to him after his voice took you out of your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks after deciding to not turn the compliment into something cheeky.

“I mean it,” he continued. “You have a natural talent.”

You just hummed. And he was glad to see you smile a true smile for the first time.

The lines that once seemed so rigid began to blur. The house, with its many rooms and hidden corners, started to feel less like a maze and more like a place where you could both find and create new memories together. Life started to feel hopeful. And even if it was for just that moment, it would be nice while it lasted.

—-------

Matty paced back and forth in his living room, phone clutched tightly in his hand. The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across the room, but the day had already brought an unsettling sense of dread.

“She’s gone,” Matty said into the phone, his voice trembling with panic.

George’s voice crackled on the other end. “Who’s gone?”

“Matilda.”

“What do you mean she’s gone?”

“She’s left,” Matty said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I got an alert from her school that she didn’t show up today. I looked in her room, her duffle bag was gone and some clothes were off their hangers in her closet. I think she ran away.”

“What? Okay, don’t panic. Are you sure?” George’s tone was urgent but tried to stay calm.

“Yes!” Matty’s voice rose, frustration and fear mingling. “I don’t know where she could’ve gone!”

“Okay- it’s okay. Calm down. We’ll find her.” His voice was firm, trying to ground Matty’s spiraling thoughts.

Your father heard Adam’s voice from the back. “How are we supposed to know what we’re looking for? We’ve never met the kid.”

“It’s my face, with my hair but longer, on the face of a pre-teen girl,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he tried to scramble to find his keys. Just then, his phone rang. “I’m getting another call, hold on.”

He hung up George’s line and answered, hopeful it was an answer to getting you back on the other end.

“Hi, I’m calling from the London Police Department. I’m calling for a Matthew Healy?” a calm voice said.

“Yes, this is he.”

“Hello, sir. We’ve got a report for a runaway juvenile by the name of Matilda Moss-Healy,” the officer said, his tone professional and steady.

Matty’s stomach dropped, a cold fear gripping him. “Yes, that’s my daughter. Is she okay?”

The officer’s voice remained calm. “She’s safe. A concerned citizen noticed her alone. She’s here at the station.”

Relief flooded through Matty, making his knees weak. He let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, thank you so much. I’ll be right there.”

He hung up, immediately calling George back. “She’s at the police station. She’s safe.”

“Thank God,” George muttered. Not that Matty could see it but his face showing visible relief.

“Let’s go get her,” Ross said, already heading for the door, determination in his stride.

Adam leaned into the phone for Matty to hear him. “We’re with you, mate. We’ll come pick you up and then we can head there.”

—-------

There was a group of officers in uniform huddled near the front desk. Matty ran straight for them, his friends not far behind. His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Hi, I'm looking for my daughter, Matilda. I got a call saying she was here,” he said, the urgency in his tone barely masking the anxiety coursing through him.

One of the sergeants, a tall man with a stern but kind face, nodded and spoke. “Right this way.” His voice was steady, a professional calm that contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside Matty.

As they walked, the sergeant began to explain. “A biker a few miles away noticed a young girl using an ATM and riding the metro alone. Thought it was suspicious for a 12-year-old.” The sergeant's words were clear, but they blurred together in Matty’s mind, his focus elsewhere. He kept nodding, mumbling a simple ‘mhm’ at intervals. His mind raced with thoughts of you—how you must be feeling, what you must be thinking. All he could do was silently hope you were okay. However, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish anyone who would even try to lay a finger on you.

He unconsciously quickened his pace, causing the officer to lengthen his strides to keep up. The hallway seemed endless, the sterile scent of the station mingling with the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. Finally, the sergeant’s voice broke through his thoughts. “She’s right in there. Take all the time you need, or no time at all.”

Matty nodded, his throat tight, and the sergeant walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts for a moment. Ross, Adam, and George appeared from behind, having finally caught up with their friend. They all stood before a large glass screen, its dark tint revealing it to be a one-way mirror. You couldn’t see them, but they could see you.

“That’s your face alright,” Adam said softly, causing Matty’s lips to twitch into a short, bittersweet smile. His eyes never left the glass, never left you.

He turned around to face his friends, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “Just give us a minute, yeah?” The three nodded in understanding, sharing a look of solidarity and concern, and walked back to the front reception desk.

Matty took a deep breath, steeling himself before he entered the room. His heart ached with a mixture of hope and fear. He pushed the door open slowly, his eyes landing on you immediately. You sat there, looking small and lost in the large, sterile room, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

You didn’t notice the metal door creak open. Too lost in your own anxious state of mind. “Matilda,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. As your eyes met his, he felt a wave of emotion crash over him, almost overwhelming in its intensity.

You bolted toward him, your shaky legs propelling you forward as fast as they could. The moment you collided with him, it rocked him back on impact. You clung to him, your small frame trembling as you buried your face in his chest, sobs wracking your body. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your dirt-streaked hair.

He took in your state, his heart breaking at the sight. Your hair was matted slightly with grime, and you smelled of cigarettes and the harsh streets of London. But despite your disheveled appearance, you were safe. Not a scratch or mark on you. Relief washed over him, mingling with the overwhelming urge to protect you from ever feeling this kind of fear again.

“Tilly-” he began, his voice choking with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice muffled against his chest.

“It’s okay-” he started to say, but you cut him off again.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Your sobs intensified, your words tumbling out in a desperate rush.

“Tilly, it’s okay, just calm down-” His voice was soothing, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

“I was just so scared.” Your voice was small, filled with a vulnerability that shattered his heart.

“It’s okay, baby. Breathe,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in a comforting rhythm.

“I won’t do it again! I swear! I just—”

“Matilda. Look at me.” His voice was firm yet gentle, his hands cupping your face as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face but your breathing began to steady under his calming influence.

“Let’s go home, yeah? We’ll talk about it later, just let me take you home.” His voice was soft, filled with a promise of safety and comfort.

You nodded again, a small, broken “okay” escaping your lips. He hugged you tightly once more, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

He guided you to the front where the boys were waiting anxiously. Your head remained bowed, avoiding their concerned gazes. He gently sat you on the opposite end of the row of chairs, his touch soft and reassuring. “I’m gonna talk to my friends real quick, alright? They came with me, they wanted to help find you.” Your gaze drifted to the three men on the other side of the room. More specifically, to George, remembering the things Matty had told you about him and your mom and remembering his photo. “I also need to thank the policeman before we leave. I need you to stay here for a minute, can you do that for me?” You nodded silently. He gave you a short smile, and kissed your cheek before standing to find his friends.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, he turned to his friends. You were well prepared to space out again, but not before your eyes drifted to George one more time. His eyes met yours and gave them a smile. You smiled back.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” Matty said, his voice low but filled with gratitude. “I’ll get us home, we can catch the tube or grab an Uber or something.”

Ross, ever the practical one, nodded. “No problem, mate. We’re here for you. Just glad she’s okay.”

Adam’s eyes were filled with empathy as he glanced at you, then back to Matty. “Yeah, anything you need. Don’t hesitate to call.”

George, however, wasn’t ready to leave so easily. “Matty, let us at least make sure you guys get home safe. You shouldn’t have to handle this alone.”

Matty shook his head, though he appreciated the sentiment. “I know, George, but It’s fine. I swear.”

George sighed, his concern evident. “Alright, but if you need anything, call us. Anytime.”

Matty nodded. “I will.”

With that, the three men exchanged solemn glances, their concern for Matty and you clear in their eyes. They began to walk out of the police station, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet space.

As they left, Matty turned back to you, his heart aching at the sight of your small frame hunched over, your head still hung low, anxious of what was to happen next. He walked over and sat down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”