#mentally imploding that background is cool as hell

[sushii-morganmiller]

Performative "Boyfriend" #1: Gabriel Castillo (14-15, Lasted ~4 Months)

Face Claim: Young Omar Apollo

Vibe: Charming, laid-back, a little mysterious, with that smooth Spanish flair.

Backstory: Gabriel’s a soccer star from an immigrant family—hardworking parents who run a small bodega, always pushing him to “make it big.” He’s got that effortless cool: tousled hair, a killer smile, and a knack for flirting in broken English that makes girls swoon. Morgan met him when her dad forced her into sports as a kid (soccer was her jam for a hot minute—she was scrappy and fast, even with her tics). By freshman year, they’re on the same rec team, and Gabriel’s chill vibe doesn’t flinch at her Tourette’s. He thinks her tics are kinda dope, like she’s got her own rhythm.

The "Relationship": It starts as a joke—Gabriel’s always hyping her up at practice, calling her nicknames in Spanish, and Morgan notices how it pisses off the prissy girls who crush on him. Rumors fly about them dating, and she milks it for the chaos, loving how the jealous glares fuel her petty streak. They hang out—skating, sneaking into movies, Morgan butchering Spanish via Google Translate to prank him (“You’re a pineapple” instead of “You’re cute”). He laughs it off, smitten. He tries to kiss her once after a game, all sweaty and hopeful, but she dodges with a “Bruh, chill, I’m sweaty too.” He assumes she’s shy; she just doesn’t feel it.

The End: Gabriel’s family gets involved—his mom’s cooking arroz con pollo, dying to meet his “girlfriend.” He’s texting nonstop, asking her when she's going to finally meet his mom. She panics— he got too clingy, and she dumps him. He’s crushed, avoids her in the halls, and his older sister (a junior) starts icing Morgan out, muttering about her under her breath. Morgan just shrugs it off.

Impact: Gabriel was her shield, her first taste of playing a role. It taught her she could fake it, but also that she didn’t vibe with dudes—no matter how hot they were.

Performative "Boyfriend" #2: Anthony Harris (15-16, Lasted ~6 Months)

Face Claim: Young Frank Ocean

Vibe: Dark, reckless, magnetic—a walking red flag with a joint in hand.

Background: Anthony’s an 18 year old senior with a rep: weed dealer, bad boy, and amateur rapper with a SoundCloud full of beats. He’s from a broken home—mom’s an addict, dad’s long gone, older cousins taught him the hustle. He’s the type who gravitates toward bad habits, such as drinking, smoking, and experimenting with substances, which is why he’s always a bit of a chaotic presence. He’s impulsive, emotionally unavailable, and has a magnetic, rebellious charm. Morgan meets him through a friend who buys from him; he offers her a hit, smirking, “You look like you need it, Twitch.” She fires back, “Call me that again, I’ll deck you,” and he’s hooked.

The "Relationship": It’s a whirlwind—Anthony’s chaos pulls Morgan in like a moth to a flame. He’s into rap and dark, experimental music, just like her, and he introduces her to a side of life that feels wild and raw. He pushes her boundaries, mentally and emotionally, leading her to self-destructive behaviors like self-harming and seeking out more dangerous experiences (drinking, staying out late, breaking rules). He’s emotionally distant, manipulative in a subtle way, and doesn’t care about anyone else’s feelings, which makes Morgan even more drawn to him. The chemistry between them is undeniable; they share a dark bond, an unspoken understanding of pain. He’s toxic as hell—ghosts her for days, then shows up with sob stories and a blunt to smooth it over. Everyone warns her he's trouble, but she’s addicted to the rush.

The End: It implodes when Anthony tries pushing Morgan into having sex. Kissing turns to groping─but she freezes and shoves him off. His guilt-trips don't work on her, he gets pissy, but she stays firm. Anthony ends up "cheating" on Morgan and it devastates her. Not because she has feelings for him─but because the idea of someone like him understanding her made her feel special in a way she’d never felt before.

First Real Girlfriend: Alexia Costa (18-19, Lasted ~1 Year)

Face Claim: Alessia Cara

Vibe: Sweet, grounded, artsy—a soft landing after Anthony's storm.

Backstory: Alexia was a high school friend Morgan had been crushing on since sophomore year. She’s the quiet girl with a sketchbook, always humming indie tunes, from a cozy middle-class family—mom’s a teacher, dad’s a carpenter. They reconnect when Morgan gets a job at Starbucks post-graduation; Alexia’s already there, steaming oat milk and doodling on cups. Morgan’s a mess—flirting hard, spilling coffee, muttering, “Yo, you’re cute.”—and Alexia just giggles, unfazed.

The Relationship: It’s slow and sweet. Alexia’s the first girl Morgan kisses (a clumsy, weed-tinged makeout sesh after a shift). Morgan's parents love her. They’re opposites: Alexia’s calm soothes Morgan’s fire. They binge anime, talk music (Alexia’s into lo-fi, Morgan converts her to rap), and share shy touches that turn into more. Morgan’s first time with a girl is with Alexia—nervous but natural, all trust and quiet gasps in her bed. Alexia’s patient with Morgan’s walls, her tics, her trauma; she’s the first to say “I love you,” and Morgan freezes, overthinking it.

The End: Morgan self-sabotages. Alexia’s stability feels too good—Morgan thinks, “I don’t deserve this chill shit.” She pulls away, picks fights, and they break up after a teary Starbucks shift. Alexia’s hurt. Morgan regrets it instantly but doesn’t chase her.

Impact: Alexia showed Morgan what love could be—healthy, real. It scared her straight into realizing she’s got work to do on herself.

First Friends with Benefits: Bianca "B" Torres (20-21, Lasted ~8 Months)

Face Claim: Barbie Ferreira

Vibe: Bold, curvy, confident—a firecracker with no filter.

Backstory: Bianca was a retail queen at a clothing store where Morgan worked part-time. She’s thick, tatted, and rocks fishnets with platform boots—unapologetic and loud. They meet when Bianca catches Morgan vaping out back, smirking, “Share, bitch.” Instant sparks—flirty banter turns to stolen kisses in the stockroom.

The Relationship: It’s pure heat. They’re hooking up within a week—raw, electric, no strings. Bianca’s assertive, knows what she wants, and teaches Morgan the ropes: confidence in bed, how to ask for what she likes. They’re a duo at parties—smoking, dancing, laughing—but it’s clear neither wants more. Morgan loves the freedom; Bianca loves the thrill. They vibe hard, trading neon crop tops and blasting rap in B’s messy apartment.

The End: Morgan catches feelings—starts overthinking Bianca’s late-night cuddles, her dumb pet names (“Hey, shorty”). She blurts, “What are we, dude?” and Bianca shuts it down. She ends it clean, no drama, but Morgan’s bummed. Maybe even bitter.

Impact: Bianca unlocked Morgan’s sexuality—gave her swagger and a crash course in no-strings fun. Losing her stung, but it taught Morgan she’s capable of wanting more.

Second Girlfriend/FWB: Riley Schumacher (21, Lasted ~5 Months)

Face Claim: Shailene Woodley

Vibe: Rowdy, rebellious, a little trashy—Morgan’s high school mayhem partner turned sneaky fling.

Backstory: Riley and Morgan met freshman year at 14, two loudmouths who clicked over a shared hatred of gym class and a love for chaos. Riley was that white girl—cornrows, fake accent, always trying to prove she was hard. She scrapped in the schoolyard (usually over dumb shit like someone dissing her hoop earrings), stayed out past curfew, and dragged Morgan into her mess. Her older brother, Dylan (25, tatted, with a lip ring), was the plug—buying them vapes, beers, and letting them crash his sketchy house parties. Riley and Morgan stole his rusty Mustang once (okay, twice), joyriding until he caught them and grounded Riley for a month. She’d put on a “Yes, Mr. Miller” act for Morgan's dad, but behind closed doors? She was a wild child, egging Morgan on—shoplifting candy, tagging walls, defending her tics with fists if anyone stared too long. Post-high school, Riley ditched the ghetto act, got a bartending gig, but never lost that spark with Morgan.

The Relationship: Once Morgan hits 21, they’re inseparable—bar-hopping, crossfading on weed and tequila, vibing to rap in Riley’s cluttered apartment. Riley’s dating some meathead named Kyle, but one sloppy night, she tells her she might be into girls. Morgan, who’s been crushing since they were teens, grins, “Bet, let’s test that shit.” It’s on—sneaky, electric hookups in bar bathrooms, Kyle’s truck bed, Riley's apartment. Riley’s new to girls, cautious but hooked; Morgan’s her guide, all smug confidence. It’s lust-fueled chaos—giggles, hickeys, secret glances—but Morgan starts catching feelings, overthinking Riley’s flirty smirks.

The End: Kyle finds a text (“Miss u, babe 💕”) and goes ballistic, screaming at Riley in a parking lot. She panics, sobbing, “I can’t do this, Morg, I’m sorry,” and picks him over her. Morgan’s fuming—“You’re a fuckin’ coward, dude”—and blocks her everywhere. Riley tries texting a week later, but Morgan’s done, vaping the hurt away.

Impact: Riley was a rush—a taste of forbidden fruit, hot and messy. It burned Morgan on trust but lit a fire for something deeper.

Third Girlfriend: Ashley Woodard (22, Lasted ~9 Months)

Face Claim: Ruby Rose

Vibe: Brooding, masc, effortlessly cool—a tattoo artist with a commanding edge, ink crawling over her skin, and a take-no-shit smirk.

Backstory: Ashley's a survivor—5’6”, lean and sharp, with a buzzed undercut and tattoos snaking up her arms (skulls, bats, jagged lines—she’s a walking canvas). She drives a shitty old van, rusted to hell but tricked out inside with blacklight posters, a mattress, and a boombox blasting rock and metal (think Slipknot and Iron Maiden). She was homeless as a teen—couch-surfed, tattooed for cash—until she clawed her way into the art scene. Now she’s a shop veteran, brooding but magnetic, with a gravelly voice from too many Marlboros. Morgan clocks her good looks day one—those piercing eyes, that jawline—and mutters, “Bruh, she’s hot as fuck.”

The Relationship: It kicks off with shop banter at Morgan’s first apprentice gig—a grimy tattoo parlor where clients side-eye her tics and older artists scoff, “Kid can’t hold a needle steady.” Ashley's the first to vouch for her, snapping at a doubter, “She’s got more balls than you, back off.” Morgan fires back at the haters with, “Yeah, I twitch better than you ink, asshole,” and Ashley grins—hooked. She inks a tiny neon bat on Morgan’s wrist (freehand, smirking, “Hold still, Twitch”), and they’re a duo—chaotic, cool, splitting shrooms in Ashley's van, smashing in the back under flickering lights. Ashley's obsessed with Voldy and Weedle—pets them like they’re royalty, cooing, “These lil’ freaks are dope,” while everyone else flinches. She gets Morgan—her tics, her trauma, her quirks—not with softness, but with a nod: “You’re a mess. I like it.”

The End: It falls apart over control. Ashley's used to calling shots—starts pushing Morgan to “grow up,” ditch the odd jobs, commit to tattooing full-time under her wing. Morgan bristles: “I ain’t your bitch, dude.” Ashley fires back, “Then stop acting like a kid who can’t pick a lane.” It’s a standoff—Morgan storms out, Ashley doesn’t chase. Days later, Morgan sees Ashley flirting with a client, unfazed, and it hits: Ashley's fine without her, but Morgan’s not. It’s not a dramatic loss—it’s a quiet sting that wakes her up. She doesn’t want to be someone’s sidekick or a fling anymore; she wants a partner.

Impact: Ashley wasn’t a storm or a comfort—she was a challenge, a boss who wouldn’t let Morgan coast. Losing her didn’t break Morgan’s heart; it lit a fire under her ass. She’s ready for real—not to be tamed, but to meet someone as equals.

Quick Recap

Gabriel: Fake, fun, a shield—taught her she’s not into dudes.

Anthony: Fake, toxic, a spiral—showed her darkness.

Alexia: Real, sweet, a lesson—love’s scary but worth it.

Bianca: Casual, electric, a boost—unlocked her confidence.

Riley: Sneaky, messy, a fling—trust is tricky.

Ashley: Real, intense, a challenge—woke her up to wanting an equal, not a boss.

[themidgardlibrary]

I had a cool dream

Humans had long since fucked up and been forced to go to the stars to survive. But what they found over generations was that they weren't the only ones. Countless species were scattered across the universe, having made their original worlds inhospitable to their own lives. Many had branched off into species different from the original species that left their planet. This gave the statistically small number of humans that saw this hope - seeing that there were two species half way across the milkyway, one of which had evolved to breathe under water, and another had evolved flight, both coming from the same root species so very long ago, gave them hope that maybe they'd not fucked up as badly as it seemed.

And humans, oh humans would settle anywhere, groups of them branching off in their journeys to find places that worked for them specifically. This wasn't unique in the universe by any means - a species of being that were made of light and crystal and generated their own gravity/antigravity fields were just as bad at not settling down on every planet and moon and asteroid that caught their fancy. But the thing about this is that humans as a species saw more of the universe than average, and more species, but statistically the numbers of them that knowingly met specific species again and again were quite few. Mostly because the species had split so many times it was impossible to be in communication with the rest of humanity, so humanity as a 'whole' would discover the same species dozens of times, but the knowledge of someone on the other side of another galaxy wouldn't always be known, you know?

Mind you a lot of things were easier than in a lot of scifi, because, lo and behold: They had discovered magic at some point. It wasn't a snap, suddenly all of humanity knows situation like a meme, but it would often, just branch out over and over and over - not always connected - like some wave of information, like the universe itself had decided 'okay you're ready to know this now'. Traveling faster than light isn't terribly hard when you can bend the rules of light, after all. And the magic was eventually seen as a science, but it was magic: It had internal consistency, but it was the practice of bending if not outright ignoring the rules of the universe. Magic and the laws of the universe seemed at odds, incapable of coexisting at every level, but they did.

Now, here comes the narrative of the dream, now that I have the majority of the background out if the way, the delicious, delicious background. Sometimes humanity didn't just travel on space ships. Magic let them travel on planets, some of them being planets they created. And it was genuinely a human that saw magic, looked at how it worked, how you could create matter from a comparatively tiny amount of energy (the scientists who were studying entropy threw their arms up because god damn it,  this fucks up all their god damn calculations and UGH) and went 'FUCK YEAH I'M BUILDING A PLANET???' Not that this was a unique idea in the universe, just that a human was the first to pull it off, because one thing that was uncommon about humans was their inability to say 'hmm, maybe this is outside of my capabilities?', because let's be real they didn't really take to heart all the lessons they should have from destroying their planet for themselves. Other species kind of despair when they hear about the shit humanity does because god okay using magic is fine and all but some of this shit is just crazy!!! (There are people out there - not just humans now that planets have been created - that are working to create stars from magic. Once again making scientists in other fields weep because it puts to the bin so much of their work)

Humans, naturally, weren't fine with just making planets. They made planets they could move throughout space like it was a ship.

The dream focused on one specific group of humans who started with a ship, then made a dwarf planet, and then made that into a planet. They didn't do it for themselves though. They did it for a bunch of species they ran into that had either fucked up their planet, or were on planets that were naturally fucked up, and they just went 'puts arms around Protecc' to the species on those planets, made their own planet bigger, and just added those species to their planet and moved on.

Also I understand that maybe planet isn't the best word for this, but there is no better word I can think of.

So anyway, the bulk of the dream happened with a planet that was like 95% surface area water. It was a small planet, and only one side of it was inhabited. The primary species (honestly, one of like, 3 surviving species in the entire planet - it had been THAT fucked up in the past) was a group of aquatic beings who were kinda like mer people (manta ray and shark bodyforms were the most common) just without the direct human resemblance. They were down to, quite frankly genetic bottleneck numbers and only existed in two spots on the planet. The humans were all 'here let us help you out' because they didn't realise WHY the planet was so fucked. Turns out there was a black hole on the uninhabited side of the planet, but it was stasisted with exceedingly strong magic that poisoned the water on that side of the planet. It turned out that the planet itself was sapient, and that it was supposed to die a HELL of a long time ago, but it had a bustling population that had no idea it was basically imploding, so it did what it could to keep them safe. But it couldn't hold off for more than another thousand years, and that poison was spreading and gravity was fucked up.

Humans found this out and were all 'yo shit we'll help'. And like, they formed even closer relationships with their fishy friends, and then found out that their species? Didn't die like humans. A large amount of their species never made their full natural lifespan (like 200 years) and didn't die from mortal injuries or their bodies wearing out. They would sink to the bottom of the waters and calcify, but their consciousness could be reached again for upwards of a hundred years EASILY if they hadn't died of wounds or body failure - it was just not really socially acceptable to do this because usually the people who 'died' wanted to die. Basically the species had pretty fucking serious depression. So a bunch of humans started finding the calcified remains and talking to the people they could reach, and brought back a bunch of the species. They also found out that there was one EXTREMELY long lived member of their species. So the humans eventually found that member and GOD was tht person GORGEOUS. Had a modern day human seen them they'd have thought they met an aquatic angel, lack of human features not mattering. Turns out that member of the species could basically change the genetics of any single member of the species one at a time. So, they moved everyone to their planet, got this one person to deal with the genetic bottleneck, and introduced their fishy friends to mental health.

(Mind you it's not that the aquatic species didn't have their own version of mental healthcare, it was just prefaced more on accepting 'death' than our own was, and the idea that those who were meant to recover would after some calcification time.)

Anyway. It was a fun dream.

Further information that was passed between a friend and I:

Friend: (Also, are the crystal/light beings in the background section gems? XD) Me: (Actually, no! They're more like 'clouds of crystals that give off their own light' than anything even vaguely human shaped.) Friend: That's even cooler! :D Me: Right??? They reproduced asexually by splitting themselves in half. They lacked genetics, but had diversity in their numbers because they formed new crystals over their lives and the crystals were formed based on their locations!  :D

Friend: I want to explore the universe with them! Me: Honestly it would be a blast to do so. I figure they communicate in non-verbal languages among themselves, but they can make voices the same way one might make music using crystal glasses/cups! So they have these crystaline reverberating voices they use to communicate to humans and other highly verbal species. So you could talk to them and they could talk back!

[bellero]

TimeWarp

Day I got- 19.

Theme- The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Summary- The reader falls asleep whilst watching Rocky Horror.

Characters- Jared x Daughter!reader, Sam x daughter!reader, Dean x Niece!reader.

Warnings- slight angst.

A/N- This is for @winchesters-favorite-girl‘s writing challenge!! Rocky Horror is one of my all time favourite musicals so it was cool writing a fic based on it.

You were curled up on the sofa in a pair of shorts and and oversized sweater, it was nearing Halloween, one of your favourite holidays.

Your dad worked in Vancouver, you lived in Texas with your mom and your three younger siblings so you didn’t see him often, but you’d call and facetime each other as much as you could.

Your mom tried to get you to go to bed but you refused, wanting to wait for him to come home.

So, here you were curled up watching Rocky Horror, one of your favourites. The first time you watched it was when you were thirteen, of course your parents were a bit reluctant at first because of the sexual nature of the movie but eventually they gave in.

You were smiling softly at the memory when you let out a small yawn, you slowly felt your eyelids closing as Sweet Transvestite played quietly in the background.

You stretched and let out a quite groan, you opened your tired eyes and slowly sat up, your brows furrowed as you looked around, this isn’t your room.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, you crept towards an old, wooden chest or drawers that was standing against the wall and opened a drawer, “the hell?” you muttered quietly looking through the array of flannel shirts.

You let out a frustrated sigh, and rested your hands in your hands but quickly shot back up when a knock on the door disrupted your thoughts, “y/n? you up?” You heard your dads voice ask, “uh, yeah” you replied quickly.

The door opened and in walked your dad, except he was dressed like Sam Winchester, your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open slightly, he furrowed your eyebrows at you, “everything okay?” he asked, you stared for a bit longer before snapping out of it, you cleared your throat and ran your hands through your hair, “yeah, yeah everything’s fine, what’s up?” You asked, he cocked his eyebrow before letting out a quick sigh, “me and Dean have found a case not far from here, wanna join?” He asked, your eyes widened again before shaking your head, “uh, yeah, sure” you said quickly.

You pulled up to the house that was said to be haunted by a vengeful spirit, you’d seen the guys dealing with this stuff plenty of times on the show so it couldn’t be that difficult.. could it?

You let out a sigh, mentally scolding yourself for agreeing to this hunt when you had no idea what you were doing.

Stepping out of the car you followed your ‘dad’ and ‘uncle’ to the trunk, Dean popped it open and lifted the fake flooring, revealing an array of weapons.

Dean picked up a gun and a knife, he made sure the gun was loading before handing it to you, you held with care, as if it would implode at any moment causing the two boys to look at you with furrowed brows.

“Okay, we’re clear on the plan?” Dean asked, Sam nodded his head but you just stared at the weapons, “y/n?” Dean called, you quickly looked up and held the weapons behind your back, “yes, I’m 100% clear on the plan” you stuttered out quickly.

The three of you tiptoed quietly through the abandoned house, your hands were shaking slightly, luckily neither of them noticed.

You split up, Dean was covering the top floor, Sam on the main floor and you in the basement, you out a deep breath as you tiptoed down the creaky staircase, your foot hit the cement flooring as you started to look around, you walked towards a table that was filled with trinkets, one of them being an old and dusty jewellery box, you opened it and peered inside, smirking slightly when you saw the ring, you went to grab it but froze when the air around you got ice cold.

Gulping, you slowly turned around, “please don’t let there be a ghost behind me, please don’t let there be a ghost behind me” you whispered under your breath, but you stopped when you saw her, the ghost of the old woman.

You let out a nervous laugh, “hey girl, what’s up?” You asked in a high-pitched voice, she lifted her hand so you quickly threw your knife at her, it falling right through her, “that wasn’t suppose to happen like that”, panicking you ran up the stairs towards the door, you went to open it but it slammed shut causing you to stumble down onto the hard concrete, you let out a groan of pain and rolled onto your back, opening your eyes you gasped when the ghost pierced her hand into your chest, her ice cold hand was clutching around your heart, the beating in your ears becoming louder and louder until you faded into nothing.

You jolted awake violently, causing yourself to fall from the couch onto the wooden floor beneath you, “ouch” you grumbled before sitting up you pushed your hair out of your face and let out a sigh.

Your eyes were drawn to a familiar pair of shoes that were sat beside the living room door, you quickly stood up and ran into the kitchen throwing yourself at the man stood eating a sandwich, “whoa” he chuckled, “can’t a grown man eat a sandwich without being mauled?” He asked jokingly before wrapping his arms around your shoulders, holding your tightly with his head resting atop of yours.

He pulled away and frowned slightly, “you’re sweating, are you sick?” He asked as he checked your forehead for a fever, you chuckled and shook your head, “no, I’m not ill. Just had a really weird dream, that’s all” you explained stealing the other half of his sandwich from his plate, you bit into it and watched him grin in amusement as you pulled a face of disgust, swallowing it you put the uneaten half back on the plate, “the hell was in that?” You asked, coughing slightly from the taste, “just what I usually have, plus onion” he replied, you looked up at him and shook your head before walking towards the living room, your dad following behind you.

You both collapsed on the couch, you noticed that Rocky Horror was still playing, it was the scene where Frank N. Furter was chasing Janet through the building, it was your favourite song from the movie.

“So,” your dad said catching your attention, “what was this dream about?” He asked placing the now empty plate onto the table in front of him, you sighed and started explaining, by the end of it you were sat in silence, the only sound was the movie playing quietly in the background.

Your head snapped up at the sound of your dad snickering, “you threw a knife at a ghost?” He asked laughing quietly, you rolled you eyes and hit him in the arm, “hey, dream me panicked okay? Also, you’re completely missing the part where I told you I died” you told him dramatically, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into him, “I’m sorry dream you died, she’ll be dearly missed” he said seriously causing you to snort of laughter, you pulled back and threw a pillow at him, “shut up” you chuckled.

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