#realistically my mom will make way too much and force me to eat it

[prestonmonterey]

mmmmm maybe gonna make rice porridge this week

[gooeyslime]

I will die on this hill but William Afton being a good dad would have worked so much better at making him feel realistic instead of becoming a cartoonishly evil man and honestly the juxtaposition of like, witnessing him kill a kid, dropping his cheerful Springbonnie act as he locks them in a room, just a cold glare as he kills them, making the player go "what a heartless monster... I feel so bad for his kids, having to deal with such a piece of shit" as we see him get out of the suit, cleaning up the blood and head home, as he opens the door once again we see his attitude change as he tells his kids "Dad's back home!" And we see them run up to him, Michael playing it cool bc he's an angsty teen but you see him smile as he points out he's late, you can tell they all care for him and got worried, after all there's a murderer on the loose and while they seem to target kids who knows? They could kill adults too... William smiles at them, genuinely, not like the smile he gave his victim whith his Springbonnie act, they all eat dinner together and if you hadn't just seen him kill a kid in cold blood you'd think this was a normal family, just a single dad eating and chatting with his kids... As he makes sure they are all sound asleep you see him walk into his bedroom, looking at a picture, it's a picture of all of them, smiling together, next to William is a woman and it dawns on you that she's nowhere to be seen and that she might be dead and he's trying to figure out how to bring her back by killing a bunch of random kids bc nothing can stand between William Afton and the only people he cares about, not even death itself... that stuff would make me way more scared of him than any "oh I am so smart I planned for you to try and set me on fire again so now if anyone scans my parts into a computer I can brainwash a random person and get them to rebuild myself ooooh I always come back!"

Like even showing him before he completely loses it would be terrifying, how he's just a normal guy who has his own troubles sure, but still isn't going around killing kids to study weird ghost stuff... Not yet anyway... And the the last straw happens and he falls to the deep end and you wonder, if you were in his shoes... If you lost the love of your life... And everyone just tells you life goes on and you just gotta get over it... What would you do? Would you also break? Would you go as far as killing someone in the hopes to bring her back? To put your family back together? And as you do that how would you handle your family breaking apart even further? Your daughter killed by YOUR machine, the machine you built to kill kids, the machine you desperately tried to keep her away from? Your older son acting out, angry because he couldn't handle his own sorrow at losing his sister shortly after his mom, he's falling apart just like you and in a moment of anger he ends up killing his younger brother, your other son killed because you couldn't see that your older son couldn't handle his own grief too? What would do then?

Stuff like that is utterly terrifying to think about... At least for me... Shame they made him so evil he's basically a Saturday morning cartoon villain now, he could have been so terrifying in so many ways but instead they made him an annoyance... Like even him coming back post Pizza Sim could have been terrifying if he wasn't such a joke by then, like we thought we finally defeated him but he's back, because he still hasn't done what he set out to do, put his family back together, and absolutely nothing can stop him from doing just that... Instead we get him showing up in 1 (one) ending and he's just... Walking around... Then he stares at a monitor and eventually he hacks Freddy by... Holding out his hand like he's using the force?? He doesn't even have a jumpscare either... I really hope the DLC at least gives him that bc him being threatening again is almost impossible after all the peepaw jokes people made...

Anyway I'm sure you can tell I have very strong feelings about this and so many thoughts for plot points that could be added to the lore if this was canon but I'll shut up for now before I write a whole essay lol

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

I'm always the one that's called a Negative Nancy who has to imagine problems for us, but I'm also always the one who ends up being right. I'm NOT a pessimist. I am a realist with too much life experience to view the world in any other way than what it is.

I told Dave at the last motel that we cannot bring too much stuff into the room because it'll be hell to clean up after. It'll be a bitch to move all that shit once we're eventually kicked out. Well, we got told 3 days before we had to leave, that we had to go, and he conveniently couldn't manage to help me or Bethy in moving shit, and then conveniently wasn't there the day the whole drama went down with the van losing all gas, the battery dying, and then the place we paid to move to, telling us we couldn't stay cuz they claimed Dave stole pillows when we stayed there a year ago.

We get to this place by pure fortune cuz of Bethy's brother's generosity, and Bethy and I move the necessities up 3 floors by ourselves. He finally comes along and insists on bringing even more shit into the room. Bring more stuff in again and again.

After almost a month, he throws a tantrum over the water pressure in the shower and demands to be moved to a better room, only to get a much smaller room for the same price, with worse AC, worse water pressure, no hot water, a TV too far away from the only chair he has access to, and the beds even smaller than the others. And he STILL kept bringing more stuff inside the room when I told him we don't need even more stuff here. Stop bringing in plastics. Stop bringing in more clothes. He's been talking about getting the roasting pan up here(despite how we never have meat to put in it). Don't bring up the air fryer or the coffee pot. They aren't allowed anyway since there are no sprinklers or fire alarms in this place.

But NOOOOOOO, he couldn't be bothered to listen to me.

So here we are.

We get a call from the front desk. We took too long to get to it so we don't know what it was for. I was trying to sleep, and something told me I should probably get up, but I've been so sick as of late that I'm exhausted all the time for no good reason.

A few minutes later, a bunch of guys knock on the door. Dave left this room absolutely filled with shit this morning. Not only is there too much stuff, but he just tosses things wherever the hell he wants with no care as to how it impedes us(and mom, who is disabled). They say they need to check the AC cuz it's old af. I sleep in front of the AC on the floor. I have to move so much shit all over the room in record time so they can have room to do whatever. Including garbage cuz 4 ppl really make a lot of garbage in little time, and Bethy is at school now so it's just me who is of able body to do anything.

The room looks like a damn mess. It's all Dave's shit and mostly his garbage on the other side of the room. All stuff he brought in and couldn't even put in an orderly fashion. So they come in, look around and remove the front of the AC, make notes, say a bunch of stuff in a language I can't understand or even place, and then leave. IDK if they plan to come back, but I cleaned up what I could as quickly as I could anyway.

I'm winded, my throat is killing me, and I'm still fucking sick. I should not have to spend my day cleaning up after Dave's messes so suddenly.

So anyway, mom and I are preparing for bad news about not being able to stay here cuz the state of this room was not up to par. We handle our own garbage just fine. We keep our side of the room pretty decently set imo. Why can't Dave be bothered to do the same? He's always forcing Bethy to do shit as if she's the only other person here and he doesn't eat, sleep, and shit like the rest of us.

I really wish it could be as simple as kicking his ass out, but in situations like ours, it just isn't viable. And it sucks.

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

I’m really scared because I haven’t had my period in over 50 days but I don’t want to tell anyone and be forced into recovering in a space where I can’t control it and having other people constantly monitoring me. I’m trying to eat better and find specific foods high in fat and protein like salmon and eggs but I really struggle with eating meat and protein dense foods because when I was younger my mom always told me it would make me fat. I’ve been slowly increasing my calories but it’s not working and I’ve actually lost weight since doing this and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this and there’s no one irl I can tell, does anyone have any advice? -💚

Hi anon! I don't know what ED services are like in your area, so it's hard to know what to recommend to you. A lot of inpatient ED treatment centers can be extremely helpful, especially to those who need medical supports where they're at in their recovery. However, a number of times, depending on your specific issues and the resources in your area, people with EDs will go to a more general psychiatric inpatient facility. The quality of the experience you have at any sort of facility largely depends on the facility itself, as well as general healthcare knowledge and systemic supports in your area.

However, if you'd be willing to seriously commit to outpatient treatment, you might be able to get supports to do it that way. I know it's scary to consider asking for this, but if you're getting sicker while trying to heal on your own, you may need to seek help to save your life, anon. I do want to also say that even if you would prefer outpatient support, if you find yourself unable to make progress in outpatient, or if you end up needing more medical support than you can realistically get in an outpatient setting, you may have to go to inpatient. I know this is scary, but medical support can save your life if it turns out to be what you need. It's better to find out than to ignore it until it's too late. There's no shame in not being able to do it on your own, it's really hard. It's brave to seek help.

Now, who to tell? It sounds like your mom has not really worked to cultivate a healthy relationship between you and food. It also sounds like she might not be the person who would listen to you if you told her that your pursuit of weight loss has gone dangerously far. I don't know her, though, so you can think about whether or not you can go to her first to seek help. While your family's reaction may be different than the one you feel you need, understand that it takes time to fix a difficult relationship. Who knows? It's going to be a journey, but at the end of all this, your mom might actually take this as a wake-up call as to how she's raised you to feel about food, and about her own relationship with food. Is there another trusted figure in your family you can tell? A safe authority figure at school? Who will receive you most compassionately while still prioritizing getting you lifesaving care?

Fat is not your enemy. I know it's hard to believe that right now, but fat is highly preferable to feeling scared about your medical future and being unable to stop this to save your life. The fats in things like salmon and eggs help your body sustain energy, and contribute to brain function. Weight gain is not your enemy, your fear of getting fat taking priority over your fear of dangerous medical problems is your enemy. I know it's hard to feel that way, but your worth is so much more than a thin body. Can you try to start out by listing a few things that you love about yourself? If you're not in the habit of doing this, it may take a while, but that's okay, you can practice.

Whether you do seek help or continue trying to do this on your own, I hope you develop some acceptance for your body, whatever it needs to do. And I hope you get your period back!

[etherealyoni]

i’ve felt the intensity of death and i wasn’t the one taking my last breath. you can feel your heart breaking in the physical sense, you lose your mind trying to make it make sense, you fall into a wave of emotions not knowing what wave will crash the hardest. i’m learning that there’s millions of ways to cope but don’t have the energy to take action. i’m drowning in my own thoughts and emotions knowing this will take time to heal. this entire month has been rough, trying to find comfort in the little things but nothing fills me up like you do. your laugh, hugs, and presence will forever be stored in my heart. it hurts knowing this is real and i’m not dreaming.

i cry because i’m hurt. our bond was superb, we were only getting closer and you were just taken away from me because someone felt their destination was more important than a life. i struggle to understand the meaning of all this, i keep asking my ancestors what is the lesson? what do you want me to learn from your passing?

your pictures and videos bring me peace, but remembering how you looked when i laid with you on your last day reminds me that i won’t get another chance to prank you, catch you in my room touching my crystals, watch shrek one more time, or even let you cook with me when you got sad and missed your mom.

i’m truly at a loss for words and knowing you’re not returning physically (as of right now) kills me inside. nobody rings the doorbell like you did, i’d know you were here when i heard it being pressed one million times. now that i don’t hear it at all or as often, i get this feeling in my chest. i’m gonna keep going but it’s taking me a minute, idk how to move forward because i’m used to taking every step with you.

it’s only been 25 days since the accident and it feels like it’s been a lifetime. i’m in the future looking back at the past like it’s been years. this has been the longest month, the longest heartbreak, and the longest time i’ve ever been away from you. i’d do anything to get you back but i know it’s already out of my hands.

crying is impossible because it seems every tear i ever suppressed was released, but i definitely shed a tear or two often. i could never forget you, even when my own brain tries to protect me from accepting this reality. you loved me so unconditionally and i can’t thank you enough for it. i feel so lost and i hope i’m guided to a light so i can begin to see things clearly once more. grieving you is and will forever be the hardest thing i have to do.

if it’s not too much to ask, i need help in all aspects. i usually avoid asking for help but this is a time i know for certain i’m gonna need my community because i’ve been forcing myself to eat, sleep, and it’s been exhausting. if anyone would like to join my group chat just to cultivate a safe space for me and others grieving, the link is in my bio. talking has been very therapeutic for me even if it’s about the silliest shit in the world, it’s helping.

my website is currently under reconstruction so i’m willing to accept donations for a reading or any services i offer. my payment methods are:

cashapp: thesacralempress / paypal: yagirlash@icloud.com / apple pay : 2709966971 zelle: ashanti goodnight / ashkela19@gmail.com

you can contact me at divinebrujita@gmail.com to schedule an appointment. don’t be afraid to reach out, if anything the work i do makes me feel closer to him and i will communicate if for any reason i’m incapable of providing a service. i’m realistic about my grief. thanks to those that have helped already and for those that do decide know it will never go unappreciated. i’m grateful for those that are simply leaving kind messages or reaching out to check on me, like i said before i need ALL the support i can get right now. peace and blessings to you all ✨

[amiaboyoragirl]

alone

i dont have any friends. i live at home with emotionally unavailable parents and my brother, who is my only semi trusted person. we are really close and honestly if i didnt have him i wouldnt be alive but we definitely butt heads and i feel bullied by him even though he doesnt mean to hurt my feelings hes just a blunt ass bitch and 6.5 years younger than me but the dynamic is basically im a big baby he feels the need to take care of. and were codependent with weed nicotine and money/food. im a mess and cant get a job, he does instacart when hes not stoned af at home. hes the only person i interact with during the day other than awkward convos with my mom complaining about something and at least once a day i have to hug my dad which makes me very uncomfortable because 1. im autistic. 2. i have sexual trauma 3. he has traumatized me so bad but either doesnt remember or doesnt think it was traumatic (didnt involve incest but he was too involved in my personal business and forced me on birth control that fucked up my health for a while when the incident that caused him to flip was asault but my mom just slut shamed me and yeah anyway my relationship with them is fucked) but i have ocd and if i dont hug them i feel like theyre gonna die after that thinking idont love them because they cant see any other reason why i wouldnt hug them. and honestly im touch starved so a hug is nice here and there but my body is so uncomfortable here. ive lived here my whole life and i feel helpless. im sure it is learned helplessness because of trauma but still i cannot fucking function outside in the world alone.

i also have tits that make me uncomfortable and im currently trying to figure out if i feel this way because im trans or because of trauma and the general sexualization of the female body and social dynamics idk. i also just got out of a 3.5 year relationship with someone i thought i was going to marry and shit but i felt like i was a lesbian and broke up with him even though i didnt want to lose him i knew he wouldnt love me the way i loved him or if i was a guy inside he wouldnt love me anymore. i know he loved me. but a lot of it feels fuzzy and i cant decipher what was real or if it was all chemicals cuz we fucked and smoked and ate and watched tv and talked all the time. the sex was fucking amazing. sometimes i cry about it still. and i still cant touch myself without thinking about him and just forcing myself to dissociate through it and sleep immediately after. ive always been a sex addict since i was way too fucking young but before this relationship i was sleeping with multiple guys all the time, i needed it to get through going to school and work and keeping up the mask. but then covid hit. met my ex. realized we are autistic. i couldnt keep pretending and forcing myself to work in a fucking restaurant that was sensory hell and triggered my eating disorder. ughhhhh god dammit i know im just romanticizing my ex relationship because im missing the sex and affection and talking to him but realistically we werent going to last and i still feel like we both were hiding some feelings or thoughts we had idk i think he couldve been a narcasisstic asshole but my heart doesnt feel that way, maybe im the narcasist and hes just audhd and traumatized just like me. idk fuck. i miss him so much. we were doing so good like finally things felt peachy again and looking up for us even tho in reality it wasnt we were and are still broke addicts too stubborn to get help. but it was fun while it lasted i guess.

anyway i feel like a rabbit in a hole running out of food and water while the world dances in the snow covering the exit. idk. i havent eaten breakfast yet and i already smoked twice so im sure ill eat and sleep this shit off but idk the thing that gets me everyday is i wake up from a dream i feel like im with my ex and then wake up alone and sad as fuck and it just ruins my day because i let it, i dont want to let go of the pain, of him, i fucking miss him and wish things could be different. we always said we wanted to die holding each other in bed like that couple preserved in pompeii. my chest is on fire right now and if i could just have one more night together id do anything. we have the same birthday so that sucks. i wanted to say happy birthday but it felt way too soon and idk if itd ruin his day or not but iwas def sad all day. we broke up 2 months ago now and havent spoken since but i saw him twice waiting to cross the street while i drove by and my heart sank to my ass. he looked good af. but i have to be honest with myself its not my responsibility to try to make him not angry and act like a man child sometimes. and its not fair tohim to feel responsible for my moods all the time we just couldnt take care of eachother the way we needed because we are both depleted of what we need idk. im going back to sleep. im just feeling emo we shouldnt get back together but i feel like i cant trust my brain because im bpd and pmdd and i always feel this way around my period, we break up then my periods over and im sad as fuck about it and regret it. its too late now im sure hes lost any interest in me and has moved on.good for him. he should. i actually really hope hes happy right now. but i know i didnt feel completely right with him so fuck it ill just try to move on. i just wish i could be normal and have a job or school and friends stuff to distract myself and have new memories but im so isolated rn and depressed idk. i might feel fine tomorrow so i wont kms lol. bpd is sooo fun. especially with gender and sexuality ocd and just wanting to be loved but feeling so unlovable ayyyyy.. i could feel hot after breakfast who knows.

[justtryingtolosesomeweight]

Until my posting fever goes down, it’s probably going to be one post abt how much I ate and one venting or just talking. Or it’s going to be whatever once I decide the difference is arbitrary.

Anyhow, looked at myself in a mirror at a distance and... my shoulders are so small. but I’m not happy because it’s in a feminine way. I wish I could just lose all this fat over night. If I didn’t have to get my blood checked then I would be much more open to saying fuck it and eating as little as possible. I gave up on my homework because i left myself an hour to do it and it turns out it required more effort. It doesn’t make me feel good but at least I cleaned my room today. Sigh... maybe I should just not eat, it’s really the only thing that makes me feel like I’m doing something. And it was practically alright then that I sucked at being alive. Not having a job was alright-anxiety looks so much better in skinny. I really do like stoking certain flames sometimes.

It reminds me when my mom asked me if I was skipping breakfast and then was like keep it up, it’s working. so, i don’t really know why I care sometimes about whether what I’m doing is unhealthy, it doesn’t matter until you’re skinny. Ah, the honeymoon, I want it back-I lost like forty pounds. It helped my social anxiety so much knowing people weren’t judging me as harshly. And it helps me pass- I have no doubts that my parents would be more open to accepting me if I was skinny. i wouldn’t even have to lose that much- to them I only need to lose like ten pounds right now- I want to lose at least thirty. Maybe 130 is what I can do but maybe if I really tried I could get to 117. It would be concerning to them but to everyone it’s practically the standard- or at least to us. I know realistically in the long run it’s not a body you can keep but even if you did gain ten pounds like you would still be at 127. ah but I’m being silly, longevity? this is fast fashion, fast body culture.

Ah you know my laptop notes look like this too. I just have too much to say and am not very good at saying it. but I notice here it’s about ed mostly but on my laptop it was about self harm. Which I want to do again but I lost my blade and am too cheap to buy another. I like them both because it makes me feel like my body is my own. I liked the confidence. and I felt like I was putting myself on the course that I wanted to be on, i want scars and a thin body. THinking about thighs- I want to go to bed every night knowing I did the best I could that day to get rid of them.

I could write novels complaining. Wonder where all these words go when I do want to write novels or do any productive writing. Maybe I’m just not okay enough and need to get all these loops out of my brain before I can think about stories. I can’t even read. I did a year ago force myself to read like seven books. I liked Chinese Cinderella and A Little Life the best. A Little Life made me so happy- and we share the same name- it did inspire me a little to sh but as we know you don’t get it from media, you already have to be sick to give in. I didn’t finish it- one day I will- I don’t know when but one day. Like cherry pie. Chinese Cinderella... I related too hard to her. Maybe not as studious and discounting the factors of chinese family hierarchy and living in that time period but I connected. Just her staying in her room and trying to get though it with media. I could go more into but I feel bad already and I need to go charge my phone.

I’m sorry for talking so long, it’s not like I have friends.

[buckyownsmylife]

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever!  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it,  starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

[nellie-elizabeth]

Grey's Anatomy: Wasn't Expecting That (19x02)

Nick is the most boring character Grey's Anatomy has ever written! Sorry!

Cons:

Like, seriously. Meredith's whole speech about how she went numb when she lost him... please. I think my problem with him is that it's hard to think of him being anything more than a blip on Meredith's radar. Her life has been filled with vibrant and interesting characters, and Nick is not vibrant or interesting.

You know I have to complain about this... Owen and Teddy. I will say that the somewhat comedic marital woes are a step above the angsty, overwrought drama we usually get with these two, but it's still not exactly pleasant to watch all the same! I was complaining last week that Owen's whole plot thread last season led to absolutely nothing in the way of real consequences. Well, apparently the consequences are going to be marital problems between Owen and Teddy. Yippee. Can't wait to see that. Ugh.

Pros:

I continue to enjoy seeing Meredith as chief even if I'm not thrilled about the Nick stuff. The episode ends with a reminder of the other part of Meredith's life that we don't get to see much of: she is a mother. Zola looks so big, it's crazy how long this show has been on the air. While she's making a presentation on her hero, her grandmother Ellis Grey, she panics and talks about how Meredith and Maggie are both also going to get Alzheimer's and die and she'll be all alone. First of all, Zola, that's a super relatable anxiety. I'm curious how this story will continue, if we're going to loop around to that looming threat of Meredith's health. After all, it's been roughly two decades since this show started. She's got to be getting close to the age her mother was when she exhibited symptoms, right? Crazy to think about.

It's fun to see Bailey get some time away from the hospital! She deserves it, and seeing her settled into her role as a mother is a special treat after all the drama and pain she underwent on her journey to get there. She and Jo being mom friends is such a lovely little detail. This show is inconsistent at best at showing these people having lives outside of their work, but when they get it right, I often really enjoy it.

The interns continue to impress me. It's early days yet, but they all feel distinct and interesting. I liked that there was a medical mystery this episode that they all got to come together to solve. They save their patient's life, although he is forced to have his leg amputated. I like how this played off of various strengths and weaknesses among the various interns. Simone gets to have the insight about the diagnosis, Jules gets to amputate his leg, but things almost go badly when she can't control the bleeding. I loved the scene of the two of them in the gift shop at the end of the episode, calming themselves down. I could see a real friendship forming there!

Not much of a friendship forming between Blue and Lucas, however. The cockiest of our new batch of interns sees Lucas and Amelia speaking in hushed tones together coming out of an on-call room, and incorrectly believes they're sleeping together. The truth? Aunt Amelia was trying to make sure Lucas had a place to sleep and food to eat! But Lucas doesn't want his coworkers to know he's related to the Shepherds, so he's keeping his mouth shut for now. That should be interesting.

The marital trouble in this episode didn't stop with Owen and Teddy. We also see Maggie and Winston at odds, as Maggie depends too much on Winston to basically act as her resident during the time when they didn't have a class of residents. Because of this, his own surgeries are constantly getting pushed around, his assistants are being poached. Winston is fed up. The thing is, in contrast to Teddy and Owen's over the top snark and bickering, Maggie and Winston feel like a realistic married couple, navigating the challenges of working together. They resolve it by the end of the episode, Maggie explaining herself but also admitting wrongdoing. I remember when Maggie and Jackson dated, and two characters who I had otherwise quite enjoyed, became insufferable to me. I'm so glad Maggie and Winston don't make me feel that way. I rather enjoy their relationship!

I'm sure there are other notable developments that I'm missing, but that happens all the time with a show as stuffed full of characters as this one is! That's where I'll leave off for now!

8/10

[lifewithcraig]

Living at home

I had been feeling like a brat lately. I wasn't eating because I was bored with the foods my mom had been making. I wanted Mexican, dim sum, Indian – anything I knew my mom wouldn't like.

I didn't want to lose a day of my weekend to take my father to church, and I knew I was selfish for feeling this way. It's not that I wasn't a believer. On the contrary, I felt spooked. If the Gods truly did speak through the priest, I was terrified of what they might say. I had too many secrets to keep.

I had been growing resentful toward my parents. It angered me how much they cared about what strangers thought because I knew it would hinder me from living my truth. I spent my entire life trying to be this perfect son. I didn't trouble them, even for things I desperately wanted. I did well in school and my career. I repressed my desires and made them proud. Yet I knew I could lose it all instantly at my own admission.

I think a part of me hated them for it. I hated them for not being there, for refusing to see me for who I am – my dad more so than my mom. I could never truly hate my mom.

I hated how my dad lived in a world of magic and fantasy. Listen to logic and reason? Never. Possessed priests and religious rituals? Always. He would come home from the temple as gleeful as a child, rattling off his fanciful observations and discoveries of the universe with youthful exuberance. I loathed him for forcing me into being the realist and the cynic.

Sure. My father was there in the ways that required fathers to be. He fed me and clothed me. He made sure I always had a bed when I came home. But he was never there in the ways that counted. To listen to me. To support me. To know me.

I hated that my parents always had to learn things the hard way and that I had literally paid the price for it in repaying their familial debt – without so much as a thank you from my father.

But most of all, I hated feeling guilty for resenting them. Deep down, I never felt justified in feeling angry at them. I hated feeling like a spoiled, petulant child and the tension that stirred inside me from my wants being at odds with my conscience. It made me feel worse about myself that my family could make me feel this way without ever doing anything.

[peppermintbee]

OMORI has poor writing (Part 1)

OMORI stans, just block the #omori hate tag now because I’m going to use it to vent my frustrations with this game. If you love this game, I am not going to try to convince you otherwise. I am glad you enjoyed it so much. I am glad it means a lot to you. I’m not here to take that away from you. I honestly wish I felt the same way!

However, if you are like me and finished the game feeling disappointed, underwhelmed, and maybe a little frustrated, then I am here to say you are not alone. OMORI--while having the right set pieces for an interesting game--is a narrative mess.

I’m splitting this into two posts. This first post is about problems with the plot. The second is about problems with the message/moral. 

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 1: Plot Writing Lies

There’s a book by Brian McDonald called Invisible Ink which is about how to write a compelling story (you can read this great book online for free here). There’s an explanation of the writing “lie” that I find myself frequently thinking of. A “lie” in this context does not mean something is literally untrue, it means something FEELS untrue, unrealistic, improbable, or unlikely. For example, if a character gets shot in the leg but manages to do parkour, this is a “lie” since it seems unrealistic for that to happen. If a character witnesses their beloved parent’s death and shrugs it off, it’s a “lie” because that reaction seems highly unlikely.

In OMORI, the plot is held together by multiple little lies that--try as I might--I just couldn’t bring myself to believe.

1. Sunny’s friends care about him, and vice versa

A major theme of the game is how friendship can overcome any obstacle. Friendship gets Sunny over his fear of heights, spiders, and water. Friendship is what Sunny remembers before the final boss fight, and allows him to face his guilt and defeat it (and prevent him from committing suicide). With the photobook and dialogue you are reminded over and over and over and over and over again that Sunny’s friends love him unconditionally.

However, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. The childhood memories are cute but shallow, boiling down to simply hanging out and eating treats. Plus, Kel and Aubrey fight constantly, with Aubrey even physically hitting Kel when he steps out of line. Hero and Mari behave more like babysitters than true friends to the younger kids. 

But at least the other kids interact with each other. Sunny, on the other hand, showed nearly no affection or consideration towards his friends. He floats through the memories like a ghost--he could have been completely absent from all the photos and it would have made little difference. I was ready to accept this as Sunny being an unreliable narrator and not thinking he was a good enough for his friends, but this never contradicted. Instead we are given even more memories where Sunny just silently exists there being “cute.”

[Sunny enriching the lives of his friends by LARPING as a cat.]

Because of the lack of meaningful interactions between them, there was nothing in the game that made me think that these 12-15 year olds would have a strong enough bond that would survive 3-4 years of no contact after finding their friend hanged. In fact, that discovery only drove them farther apart. The only person who I could believe actually had a close bond was Basil, who almost literally filled that trope of being the friend who would help you bury a body (or in this case, help Sunny cover up the accidental manslaughter).

The writing fix for this would be simple: instead of showing us the same boring birthday and beach scenes over again, give the kids memories of overcoming some age-appropriate adversity together: heartbreak over an unrequited crush, anxiety over homework, sports injury, lost dogs, divorced parents, running away from home, bullying, etc. Set a precedent of the friends supporting each other through good times AND bad times. Without such backstory, Sunny’s friendships allegedly giving him the courage to overcome his guilt feels like a lie.

2. Sunny abandoning Basil in the bathroom scene

One of the most confusing moments in the game was Sunny’s negligence when Basil has his first breakdown in his bathroom. This part of the game is player-controlled, which is a strange writing decision because all you can do is click on Basil and various bathroom amenities over and over which completely saps the urgency out of the scene. When you try to leave, Basil begs Sunny to stay, but (due to a lack of player options) Sunny walks out without a word. With no option to talk to him OR get help for him, it makes Sunny seem exceptionally cruel to Basil. In fact, I was starting to wonder if the game was setting up for some sort of twist that Sunny DIDN’T care about his friends, which would fix some of the confusion in point #1. However, as we know, that is not the case. Therefore, Sunny’s negligence/apathy towards Basil’s pain feels like a lie.

The writing fix would be to make it MORE clear that Sunny is intentionally running away from Basil. Make it a cutscene, or, give a false choice such as “Leave Basil? Yes / Yes”. After Sunny leaves, Kel should make some remark about Sunny looking odd, “You look sort of shaken up, is there something you want to tell me?” then hit it home with Sunny shaking his head. This would make it more clear that Sunny is intentionally hiding Basil’s state, as opposed to just being a bad friend. As it stands, it just felt like a writing mistake.

3. Basil and Sunny working together to stage Mari’s death as a suicide

This is the plot hole that I see the most complaints over, but it’s so big I have to address it. Accidentally pushing Mari down the stairs I understand, but the rest is too absurd. Below are some of the “lies” that the writing tries to get away with:

That Sunny and Basil wouldn’t just claim she slipped and fell.

That either boy would even come up with this sick plan.

That they wouldn’t back out of this idea during the multi-step process (carrying her downstairs, outside, getting the jump rope, tying a noose, putting it around her neck, stringing her up, hiding the evidence... This is a series of multiple decisions, not one quick accident like the initial push.)

That it’s not the image of Mari’s death that traumatized Sunny, but the image of what they chose to do to her body that traumatized them. I understand the image of Mari hanging is more dramatic, but they literally did it themselves so why is that more haunting than Sunny killing her?

That Mari’s true cause of death wouldn’t be immediately obvious to the parents, the police, the friends, EVERYONE. (I’ve seen fans try to get rid of this plot hole by hypothesizing that the parents knew and covered it up, but the evidence of this is circumstantial at best. The father saying, “You’re not my son,” is unreliable since it happens in Sunny’s headspace. Divorce is common after the death of a child, and, at the very least, Sunny’s mom doesn’t show any evidence of knowing what happened. The way it is written, only Sunny and Basil know the truth.)

The ridiculousness of this twist is so extreme that it completely broke any immersion I had left. Frankly, the reveal that the happy, loveable Mari committed suicide is a far heavier and more realistic twist than a crazy murder-cover-up story is.

Additionally, it seems like Basil was only written into this scene in order to make Sunny the true victim of what happened. After all, Sunny may have pushed her, but it was Basil who came up with the demented cover up. (This is apparent from just the photos but the datamined Truth Album confirms it.) By having Basil come up with the plan, the game splits the guilt between the two of them to make the kids easier to sympathize with. It’s problematic because if Basil was not in the scene, there would be no way to justify what Sunny did to Mari. So why is what they did easier to accept when they worked together?

Fixing the writing lie: Sunny lies and says that Mari slipped. Remove Basil from the scene, and instead have Sunny confide in Basil which forces Basil to become a co-conspirator and burdens him with the terrible truth.

4. Sunny’s friends forgiving him and Basil for what they did to Mari

Last but not least, the story heavily implies that Hero, Kel, and Aubrey will forgive Basil and Sunny for what they did to Mari. I found this to be almost as unbelievable as the staged-suicide stunt.

It feels like a lie since the group’s friendship is never established as anything beyond shallow hang outs from 3+ years ago (see point #1).

It feels like a lie because this is hot off the heels of Aubrey being so distraught over Mari and the following fall out that in the last three days she 1.) attacked Sunny and Kel with a nail bat TWICE, 2.) Stole Basil’s photobook, and 3.) Shoved Basil in the lake. This trauma is still very fresh for her.

It feels like a lie because the complexity of the staged-suicide is so extreme, one would be hard pressed to forgive ANYONE for doing that, be it friend, foe, parent, sibling, lover, etc.

I’ve seen fans argue that the ending is not about forgiveness, it’s about telling the truth, and I want to believe that. Really. If the ending was about Sunny starting his redemption arc by telling the truth no matter what the consequences are, that would be a meaningful lesson. But the writing does not support that. The ending headspace segments are focused on assuring Sunny that his friends will support/forgive him no matter what. To do this, the game shows us the shallow photobook memories (again) to show how much they allegedly care about each other. Then, when fighting Omori, Sunny remembers these quotes from his friends, which directly correlate to their unconditional support:

KEL: Friends... Friends are supposed to be there for each other.

AUBREY: I hope you can find some peace... or you know... some happiness.

HERO: We made the mistake of leaving each other when we needed each other the most. This time... we’ll stay together.

BASIL: Maybe one day... things can go back to the way they were before.

The really direct evidence that this ending is about getting forgiveness is this quote from Basil in Sunny’s headspace:

[BASIL: “AUBREY, KEL and HERO are good friends. You have to trust that they’ll forgive us.”]

This is one of the last scenes before Sunny tells his friends the truth, proving that obtaining forgiveness from his FRIENDS is in fact the leading motivation for Sunny’s actions.

Fixing this writing lie is easy. Instead, adjust the writing to be about telling the truth, not about how much the friends will still love Sunny. Have headspace Basil say, “Even if they don’t forgive us, Aubrey, Kel, and Hero deserve to know the truth. It’s the only way to make things right... or close to it.”

Conclusion

OMORI is undeniably a cute game with a strong visual identity, and has a premise that could make for a very compelling experience. However, the sloppy plot and weak character writing cause the potential of this game to be squandered. There are other issues as well that I chose not to cover for the sake of time, such as the poor pacing of the dragged out dungeons and the bizarre, unrealistic behavior of characters in the “real” world. 

However, there are a few more glaring problems with OMORI that I have to address: In part 2 of my critique, I break down what may be the biggest problem with OMORI’s writing: the message.

[ Link to Part 2: OMORI’s Message is Mishandled and Distasteful ]

[13uswntimagines]

Where Do I Fit? (Preath x Little!Reader)

Request: angsty little!reader with Tobin, where Tobin was rs caretaking fir way before Christen(like since college?) and they tell Christen but she isnt okay with it at first but accepts it by gettung r stuffies to apologise?

“It’s not like that Chris,” Tobin sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her elbows rested on her knees. The two of you had been trying to explain this for a better part of an hour, and Christen still didn’t understand. 

“Then tell me what it’s like Tobin, because from what you’ve said it sounds like your adult friend pretends to be a toddler, and you give her baths and feed her bottles. Do I need to continue? It’s some kinky shit-...” Christen said exasperated, frustratedly running fingers through her hair. How Tobin thought she would be ok with this? She was at a loss for words. 

Tobin shook her head, blinking up at her girlfriend “It’s not sexual Christen. It just-“  

“What, makes you feel good?” Christen spat, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. 

“Helps me deal with stress and anxiety, in a more positive way,” you mumbled, shifting anxiously on the couch next to Tobin, shivering at the glare Christen sent your way. You weren’t in love with Tobin, actually, you had a girlfriend of your own (who also happened to be little). Tobin was your safety blanket, and you just wished Christen could understand. 

****

Tobin had been your mama since college. An arrangement that had been made after she found you curled up under your dorm room bed, so stressed you didn’t know what day it was much less what stuff you had to get done. Instead of running away, she had pulled you into her arms and rocked you until you were done crying. 

After a little research and some explaining about why you regressed and how long it had been happening on your end, Tobin wholeheartedly embraced the role of Mama. And together you became more comfortable. She made you bottles and helped you keep track of school and soccer. As your best friend she decided it was her duty to protect you, and you were too fucking adorable when you were little to pass up. 

Then your Mama started dating Christen, and after a few months of them being serious, it was decided that you had to tell Chris. That you could propose that she join in your little arrangement. You got along well with the woman, and she was pretty nurturing to you anyway (especially at national team camps) making sure you ate and didn’t stay up at all hours of the night with your girlfriend and the youngins. 

****

Christen paused mid-pace, turning to look her girlfriend in the eye. “I don’t know how I feel about having a third person in our relationship Tobin,” She said calmly, crossing her arms. 

“Baby, I promise you it’s not like that. Y/n may be my baby girl, but I’m not romantically attracted to her. She’s my best friend, and this helps her,” Tobin pleaded, begging for the woman she loved to understand. She didn’t want to lose her and she didn’t want to lose her baby girl. You were a very sensitive little, absolutely petrified of her getting bored and abandoning you one day. She had made so many promises, and she couldn’t bear the thought that she might have to break them. 

“So what, she’ll call you whenever she’s little and you’ll just fucking drop everything to go ‘help’ her?” Christen’s eyebrow quirked up. 

You frowned. You had been hoping that this conversation would end in you having another mommy, so technically you would be calling them, and you were always mindful of overstaying your welcome. 

“I wouldn’t abuse that,” You huffed. 

“But you can’t control when you're little or whatever right? As long as you’re involved in this thing, she will always come first, and that’s not a healthy relationship,”  Christen asked viciously, turning her attention to you for the first time. You sunk into the couch, fighting the natural descent into little space that came with such looks. With looks only Moms could muster. 

You opened your mouth to respond, only for Tobin to jump in first. “Babe, we’ll figure it out. I was act-”

“Well then, I’ll be back when you figure your priorities out,” Christen scoffed, grabbing her keys and her purse and slamming the door behind her. 

Heavy silence stretched across Tobin’s apartment, both of you staring at the door. 

You hadn’t been expecting things to be rainbows and butterflies, but you didn’t think it was going to come down to an ultimatum. Little you or the love of Tobin’s life. It wasn’t a fair choice, but you knew exactly what needed to be done, no matter how much it hurt. 

“I was afraid that would happen,” You sighed, staring at the door, gulping to try and stay big. Trying to force yourself to hold back the painful emotions that were rattling in your chest. Someone had to be the mature one. The realistic one. 

“Y/n,” Tobin said softly, her voice ruff with unushered tears.

You shook your head, patting her knee, but never looking in her direction. If you did you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together anymore. You wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done. You had promised yourself that you would never get in the way of her love life, and you were about to follow through on that. “It’s fine Tobin. I understand,”

“I love her,” Tobin said, sniffling, and you felt a little piece of your heart crack. Didn't Tobin love little you too? Just not enough. You swallowed hard, again pushing those feelings down. This wasn’t about you, and Tobin deserved to be happy. 

“I know. Go after her, I know how to let myself out. I’ll go to Lindsey’s and text the group chat to see if anyone wants another little,” You shrugged. Lindsey could handle you and your girlfriend for the night, and the group chat was sure to be able to give you good advice, at least until you figured this whole thing out. They hadn’t let you down yet. 

Tobin made a strangled sound at the mention of the group chat. At the idea that one of her friends could ever replace her as your mama. She knew that it was the logical next step (you and little Em were a handful on your own, together you were little terrors), but she couldn’t help the little twinge in her heart. 

“I’m sorry,” She said, bringing her hand over yours and squeezing tightly. She hoped it could convey how badly she felt about this whole situation. She never thought Christen would react so badly. 

You bit your lip, avoiding looking at your mama. “Don’t be. You were the best Mama ever. Now go,” You mumbled, kissing the back of her hand and shooing her towards the door. She didn’t even spare a glance in your direction as she left. 

You stood from the couch, walking to the guest room that always served as your nursery. You collected your little things bag, Roary (you could never leave him behind), and your Batman blanket before heading towards the door. You paused in the doorway, turning to glance over the room one more time, allowing yourself to reminisce for just a second. How you wished this night had gone differently. You sighed, shaking your head and closing the door behind you. You would find a new caregiver, but Tobin would always be your mama. 

****

You were miserable. Completely, totally and utterly miserable. Hovering somewhere between adult you and little you, curled up in the corner of Lindsey’s couch, staring listlessly into space. Even your girlfriend cuddled into your side, running race cars gently over your legs couldn't cheer you up, and Lindsey was starting to get worried. 

“I don’t know what else to do, short of calling Tobin,” Lindsey said quietly, watching you from where her and Kelley were hovering by the door. It was one thing handling her little handful, and a complete other trying to take in both of you at the same time. She didn’t even know where to begin with you, hence why she called in reinforcements. 

You had known Kelley and Alex for almost as long as you had known Tobin. You trusted them, and if anyone could get you out of your funk, your aunt Kelley could. 

“You tried pudding?” Kelley asked, biting her lip. You were curled into the couch, Emily cuddled into your side, sending glances every now and then towards the stuffed triceratops you had left on the other couch. Pudding was little you’s favorite cheat food, and if that didn’t work she wasn’t sure what to do next. By now the entire team was aware of what was going on between you and Tobin, and none of them were surprised that little you wasn’t taking it so well. 

“And ice cream, and hot pretzels and Mac and cheese. I even tried warm milk,” Lindsey nodded. She had seen you upset before, but never this bad. She was literally at her wits end, and Emily wasn’t even being her normally bratty self. 

“Damn,” Kelley sighed, rubbing the back of her neck anxiously. How Tobin was going to fix this mess she didn’t know and how she was going to aid your obviously miserable self she wasn’t sure either. 

“Yeah, and she forbade me from calling Tobs,” Lindsey mumbled, patting Kelley’s shoulder. Kelley was known to have a magic touch with littles, but Lindsey was skeptical anyone besides your mama could pull you from this funk. 

“From the text she sent the group chat I’m not surprised. I’ll see what I can do,” Kelley nodded, shooing Lindsey towards the kitchen to heat up some Mac and cheese. She would get you to eat something even if it killed her. 

She slowly made her way over to you, gently patting Emily’s shin when she was close enough. “Hey Emmy, your mama wants to see you in the kitchen please,” 

The blond little blinked up at her, big Emily suddenly very present in her eyes. She didn’t like how much pain you were in, but you both trusted Kelley. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Emily nodded once, seemingly satisfied that Kelley would help. 

Emily leaned up and kissed your cheek before toddling off towards the kitchen. Maybe mama would get her a cookie. 

Kelley took her spot, watching you carefully, as though you were a puzzle she was trying to solve. “How you holding up bug?”

You shrugged in response, tucking your legs tighter underneath you and crossing your arms. 

“Not too good then huh?” Kelley filled in, scooting a little bit closer to you, taking a breath of relief when you didn’t curl into an impossibly tighter ball. 

You nodded once. While big you understood why Tobin couldn’t be your mama, little you was devastated that she had chosen someone over you. That she didn’t love you anymore (big you knew this was just as hard for her). 

Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. You usually hovered around 2 and a half or three when you were little, but this version of you was far smaller. Small enough for you to go nonverbal. The only person to see you this small was Tobin, and as far as Kelley knew the last time this had happened you were still in college. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but Roary was telling me that his tummy was hurting. Does your tummy hurt?” She asked you softly, holding up your favorite stuffed triceratops and wiggling him in front of your face. 

You shrugged again. Yeah your tummy was a little grumbly, but you were sad and all you wanted was for mama to scoop you up, but she couldn’t. 

“I know you’re upset bug, but not eating isn’t going to make you or Roary feel better, ok? Aunt Lindsey made Mac and cheese and it’ll warm you up ok?” she tried again, nudging your cheek with Roary’s nose. You bit your lip in thought. You did love Mac and cheese, and you didn’t want Roary to turn into a grumpasaurus. 

“Otay,” you mumbled, reaching for the defender (who despite her short stature was still an inch taller than you). She smiled tightly at you, handing you your stuffed Dino and picking you up to head towards the kitchen. At least they were getting you to eat. 

*****

Christen sighed from her place on the couch next to Tobin, glaring at the cellphone that had gotten far more attention than she had tonight. All she wanted was a date night with her girlfriend, and Tobin had spent the whole thing glued to her phone, nervously biting her lip. 

“Alright, who have you been texting all night?” Christen asked, pulling away from Tobin and wrapping the blanket tighter around her. 

The midfielder turned forward blinked and sat back to look carefully at her girlfriend. “Lindsey,” Tobin said, biting her lip. 

Christen’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s up with Linds?” 

Tobin sighed. “Y/n went to stay with her until preseason starts. Emily’s there too and she wanted to hang out with her girlfriend,” 

“So what, why has Lindsey been texting you?” Christen asked. She was usually good at following Tobin’s train of thought, but she was lost. 

Tobin sighed again, shaking her head. “Y/n is having a really hard time, and I know you think it’s just some weird kink or something, but little Y/n doesn’t understand what’s happening. She doesn’t know what she did wrong and Lindsey needs some advice on how to handle her,” 

Christen’s back straightened immediately at the mention of your name. She thought she had made her opinion clear. “How can you say that like Y/n is two people. Like she isn’t manipulating you into doing what she wants?” Christen said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

Tobin took a deep breath trying to figure out how to explain it. How to make her girlfriend understand that it was so much more than you pretending to be a kid for a little while. “Y/n isn’t two people, and she isn’t manipulating me. That’s evident considering she forbade Lindsey from calling me,” Tobin started calmly, picking at a stray thread on her pants. She opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to find the right words to explain it. “It’s not a sexual thing for her. It’s about trust. When y/n is little she doesn’t have to worry about everyday things, she can trust that I’ll take care of her. That no matter what happens, someone will be there to protect her. That no one will abandon her…” her voice cracked. 

That’s exactly what she had done, isn’t it? Abandoned her best friend?. 

Christen pulled her into a hug, letting her sob into her shoulder. It was hard to see Tobin this upset, even if she didn’t fully understand why. 

“My relationship with her isn’t like the one I have with you. She loves Emily,” The words were muffled by Christen’s shoulder, but the forward heard them loud and clear. 

Her eyebrows furrowed. She had done some research after Tobin had initially told her, but this was turning out to be way more complicated than the online forum suggested. If Emily was involved too, and you were dating her, then why did you need Tobin? 

“Why can’t Emily be her mama?” She asked softly, honestly trying to understand this mess. 

Tobin leaned back, wiping her eyes. 

“Cause Emily’s little too and that would be dangerous. Lindsey takes care of Em like I take care of Y/n,” 

Christen nodded as she took in the information. That made sense. If you couldn’t necessarily control being little, then it was possible you would both slip at the same time (or one could trigger the other). That did seem like a pretty bad idea for a long term solution. 

But if Lindsey was there, then what was the problem? 

“I just don’t understand how I fit into this whole thing,” Christen said after a few minutes, finally looking Tobin in the eyes, searching for the answer. 

“You don’t have to deal with her when she’s little if you don’t want to. I just didn’t want to hide it from you,” Tobin shrugged, running a hand through her hair (the weight on her chest lifting just a bit now that Christen actually seemed to be willing to talk about this). 

“If she’s here, I’m not just going to ignore her,” Christen scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Tobin’s lips ticked up just a bit. She wasn’t sure if Christen realized she had basically said you were going to be around, but Tobin was pleased with the new development. Maybe Christen just needed to logic it out a little bit more to become more open to the idea, but she wasn’t going to force her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. 

“It’s still the Y/n you know, just a little bit more carefree. A little more silly and cuddly. You don’t have to be around her, but if you wanted to… she was gonna ask if you wanted to see what being a caretaker with me was like,” She said, leaning in and nudging under Christen’s chin with her nose. 

Christen frowned, pouting a little, the real reason she had been so against the idea initially finally rolling from her lips. “She wasn’t trying to take you away from me-“ 

Tobin was shaking her head before Christen even finished her sentence. “No, she was trying to include you,”

You had been open to the idea of being little around Christen (hesitant, but open especially if it meant including the woman your mama was head over heels for. 

The silence stretched between them for a few long seconds, broken only by Christen’s sigh. 

“I fucked up,” She mumbled, pinching the space between her eyes, completely missing Tobin’s blinding smile. 

“We fucked up, now let’s go fix it,” Tobin said, kissing her girlfriend’s cheeks and standing, extending her hand for the woman to take. They would make this right together. 

*****

Kelley would say that you were tolerating dinner. You were reluctantly opening your mouth for the airplanes of Mac and Cheese she was sending your way, glancing longingly at Roary (who was eating his carrots in his very own seat across from you). 

Lindsey had gotten up a few minutes ago to answer the door but had yet to return. That was why you were taking turns having Kelley feed you bites of dinner with Emmy. 

Kelley lifted the next bite up to your lips, but you pulled your head away. “No tank you,” 

Kelley sighed, leaning forward to make eye contact with you. “Baby, you’ve only had two bites. You need to eat a little more for me please,” 

You rapidly shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want to eat the stupid Mac and cheese. You wanted your mama to love you again, but she was off loving Christen. 

“It otay, I eat Mac for you,” Emily said, patting your arm and placing a very sloppy kiss on your cheek. She didn’t like it when you were upset, and if she got more Mac and cheese out of it, then that was fine with her too. 

Kelley glared at the younger defender. You didn’t need any more encouragement to not eat, especially when you were this fussy. “I don’t think it works like that Em”

She looked back into your direction(ignoring your girlfriend’s pout), making her voice soft and sympathetic “Come on Y/n, 5 more bites please,” 

You whined loudly, shaking your head rapidly and kicking your feet a little in displeasure. The tears were now falling heavily down your very red face. “No want it!!”

“Alright bug,” Kelley murmured, pulling you into her lap, and letting you cry it out. You buried your face in her shoulder, heartbreaking sobs wracking through you. Kelley rubbed circles into your back, and carded her fingers through your hair, trying to soothe you. When that didn’t work, she carefully transferred you into a very familiar lap.

*****

You clung to Tobin as though your life depended on it, fisting her sweatshirt like you thought she would disappear at any second. You probably thought she would, Christen noted. 

It was truly a pitiful sight so see, and each little sob from your lips was like a knife in Christen’s chest. She hadn’t known what to expect when Lindsey said you were taking it hard, but it most certainly wasn’t this. It made her apology gift seem incredibly inadequate. 

“No babydoll, I’m never leaving you again. I promise,” Tobin said into your hair, rocking you to try and ease the wave of tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“But you wove Christen,” You said, though your voice was muffled by Tobin’s shoulder and your tears, Christen heard the words loud and clear. She shared a look with Tobin over your head, and she knew that she was the only one who could fix this mess. 

She knelt down next to you, carefully rubbing your back, encouraging you to look at her. You obliged, rubbing your bloodshot eyes as you pulled away from Tobin. 

“Tobin can love both of us darling, and I see that now. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see that before, but if you’re willing, I’d like to try helping your mama take care of you when you’re little,” She said softly. 

“No make me go bye bye?” You asked, sniffling. 

“No little one,” Christen reassured, bringing her thumb up to while away a stray tear. “No I brought a friend, but they don’t have a name yet. Do you think you can help me out?” She said, holding up the stuffed dragon they had picked up for you as an apology. 

You gently grabbed the purple stuffie, holding him very close to your nose, and examining him carefully. “Spike wants ta know if we go home?” You said after a few seconds, poking your tongue out the side of your mouth. Christen and Tobin laughed lightly at your expression. 

“Yeah, let’s go home,” 

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter One

Chapter Two can be found here

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras  quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies 

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This is pretty much a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter One starts after the cut. Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the new chapters.

Chapter One

Chapter warnings: Badly written smut (consensual), marriage awkwardness, alcohol consumption. Maybe OOC Sy, I don’t know. We never saw him being casual.

Sy checked his phone again as he waited for his bag by the baggage carousel. The airport was even busier than usual, it was taking ages and he was impatient to get out of there... and maybe even never set foot in an airport again for the rest of his life.

He read her text again, short and sweet. He sometimes called her that, short and sweet, just to tease her. Ada was considerably shorter than him and full of sugar, when she wanted to be, that was.

'I'm waiting by the gate for you, with a warm cinnabon :) So excited to see you again <3.'

Just then a notification popped up from Harper. It was a photo of the soldier at the airport, finally reunited with his wife and his two rugrats. It made Sy all the more excited to see Ada again, and then as if on cue, his camo bag appeared in the carousel and he groaned with relief.

He stood restless amidst the line, it seemed people in front of him were dragging their feet, but when they noticed his green beret uniform, most parted and let him through. Sy tipped his head gratefully.  

His wife was there, just outside the gate. Sy spotted her instantly in the crowd of people. She was wearing a red dress under her open coat and her hair looked fresh out of the hairdresser. He caught himself grinning at the sight of her. Then, once she spotted him making his way over to her, she started waving her hand excitedly as if there was any way his eyes hadn't already landed on her. He wished he still had his phone in hand to capture this moment for all of eternity, but his memory would have to do, he decided before casting his arms open for his wife. Fuck, did he love her!

°°°

Ada had been biting her nails nervously for the past two hours. She had arrived at the airport way too early. The parking fee would hurt but she couldn't find it in herself to care at this point.

Three weeks ago, she had received a call informing her that her husband and part of his unit had been ambushed. There had been an explosion in some building they were scouting only God knows where.

Only a full week after that did she receive a call from Sy himself. He was coming home. For good, this time. They were sending him home early, a full eight months earlier than what he had originally negotiated with his superiors. She hadn't been prepared for the news. She had spent the days following the call asking herself whether she had heard him right, making sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her.

Now he was here, stopping right in front of her, his thick arms inviting her right in for a hug. Ada wouldn't have been able to resist the invitation even if she had wanted to. Within a second, she was enveloped in his embrace, her cheek pressed against his chest. She was overjoyed to feel his heartbeat again. Sy kisses the crown of her head before putting her down, his hands never leaving her lower back, his fingers big enough to reach the swell of her bum from there.

They pulled away a few inches to take each other in. His beard has grown a little long, but it was not enough to hide his apparent dimples as he smiled. He looked a little older too, she hadn't seen in seven months, except through a shitty quality facetime call once or twice. Her careful gaze spotted the new scar by his temple, it was the only visible physical evidence of the explosion he had been caught in. She dreaded what she might under his uniform.

Sy caught her eyes and she found herself blushing under his stare. It was always like that the first few hours when he was back, until she got used to his overwhelming presence again and to the fact that this handsome bear of a man was indeed her husband.

"You're looking good, darlin'," Sy grinned, making her spin for him. "I missed you."

Ada couldn’t resist his smile. "I missed you too, Sy." She confessed, handing him the still warm cinnamon roll in its paper bag.

He accepted the pastry with a smile and started eating it immediately but not before throwing his arm around her shoulders as they began making their way to the parking lot. Sy was eager to get her out of the crowd and have her just to him himself.

"So, what's the plan, darlin'?" Sy inquired with mischief to his voice, balling up the paper bag with his free hand and throwing it inside the trash can. "Did you book that hotel with the jacuzzi in the bedroom again?"

It had become a tradition of some sort between them. They would always spend his first night back at that hotel: they'd order some room service and eat in the jacuzzi. Though, usually, they would first end up on together on the bed.

Ada stopped suddenly in her tracks, making him still behind her. She smiled sheepishly. "Don't be mad," she started, his smile falling at once, "but your family is waiting for us in the parking lot. Your mom insisted that we celebrate your homecoming at the restaurant. Something about you missing Thanksgiving just by a couple days."

Sy groaned, thinking about the evening that now expected him. He'd been flying for God knows how many hours, all he wanted was a warm bath and Ada whichever way she'd let him have her, not a damn dinner party.

"I'm sorry, Sy."

He shook his head and leaned down to kiss her forehead again. "Don't worry, darlin'. I know it ain’t your fault."

As soon as they reached the open-air parking lot, Sy's nephew and niece start running up to him, having escaped their parents' grasp. His family was waiting for him with cheers and a 'welcome home, soldier' banner. Sy hated that kind of attention and she found it cringy as well, but she had been unable to stop his mother. Ada watched him hug the kids and lift them up into the air, making them laugh as she walked up to the machine to pay the fee.

Her hand trembled as she inserted the ticket into the slot, missing the opening a few times. She was happy - no, scratch that - she was ecstatic to have her husband back. It's just that, could you really say 'back' when there was never truly a 'before', a 'there'?

They had met when he was already deployed, but on a short leave back in Austin. They spent three weeks together, got married and he returned to Iraq. Since then, the longest stretch of time they had been together had been twenty days. Neither of them had ever gotten settled into married life and now he was 'back'. For good. Which was wonderful and foreign and overwhelming all at once.

Ada paid the fee and returned to join them, finding Sy hugging his mother. She smiled at the sight. She walked over to greet her sister-in-law and her husband, confirming that they'd meet up at the restaurant. With that, she went to the car, deciding to give Sy some more time with his family, and herself an occasion to take a few breaths and calm her buzzing heart.

"You didn't tell me my mom had gotten herself a boyfriend." Sy grumbled immediately as he sat down next to her in the car, putting on his seatbelt.

Ada turned on the engine and backed out of the spot. "I knew you wouldn't like it," she defended before casting a side glance at him. "Besides, I figured it wasn't my place to tell you."

Sy hummed noncommittally, removing his cap to rake his hand through his cropped hair.

"Though, as much as I don't exactly like your mother," Ada added quietly, "she's been on her own ever since your dad passed a couple years ago. With your father gone and you away, she must have felt lonely.”

°°°

Sy spent the rest of the drive mulling over her words in his head. The fuck was that supposed to mean? As soon as a woman feels lonely, she takes up a boyfriend?! Was Ada lonely too while he was away and… He wanted to ask if she was implying anything but then one look at her and he decided against it. Breathing out deeply, he forces himself to relax. He was just stressed out and on edge.

It was inevitable that things would have changed while he had been away. That was something he thought about frequently late at night when he got to be alone. Still, he hoped things hadn’t changed all too much. Ada still looked just as she had on their road trip to Vegas, focused on the road but leaning back on her seat, just one hand on the wheel with a grin on her lips. His wife loved driving.

"You got your nails done." Sy commented, already hoping the whole dinner thing would be over quickly so that he could go home with her.

Ada turned to him with a chuckle for a second, wriggling her graceful fingers and red painted nails, her wedding band reflecting the light. "I wanted to look pretty for you."

Sy huffed. "You always look pretty to me, Ada," he said and then watched her scoff.

"Or maybe, I just wanted to make sure I'd be able to scratch you up nicely," she wife winked.

Yeah, this dinner thing couldn't be over fast enough.

°°°

Ada saw him eat so much over dinner, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to be sick later. And, of course, the double serving of smoked ribs had to be accompanied with generous amounts of beer and whisky. She didn0t blame him, though. Out of curiosity, she once researched what they ate while on deployment and it looked anything but tasty. If she had been in his shoes, she'd have been eating her own weight in pizza and brownies right now.  

It also didn’t help that his brother-in-law and his mom's new boyfriend, Phil from the hardware store, kept asking him about Baqubah and even touching on the subject of the explosion. It was obvious how uncomfortable the subject made him, his grip tightening around his knife and his jaw tensing up so tightly, she could imagine his teeth grinding.

So, Sy kept asking for refills, raising his glass, and giving them vague answers, but it seemed they didn't get the hint. At least, the subject changed when his sister interrupted the conversation to announce she was expecting again. A little girl.

Ada used the moments of cheer that followed to excuse herself from the table and go to the restroom. She was still somewhat nervous and her face was damp. She would have given anything for a glass of scotch at that moment but she was driving tonight.

Helen, Sy's mom appeared right behind her just as she was washing her hands. She hoped the woman would just disappear inside a stall but she wasn’t that lucky.

"Jack is back." Helen stated, arms crossed. A shiver ran through Ada's spine, damn she hated that woman. "For good."

Ada dried her hands with a paper towel, looking back at her mother-in-law through the mirror. "He is."

"Now's the time to prove yourself to this family and show us that Sy was right in marrying you.”

Before Ada could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, Helen finally disappeared inside a stall. Rolling her eyes, Ada went to leave the restrooms when Helen decides to add some more venom. "Maybe a good start would be calling him by his first name, as a wife would."

°°°

"When do you start at Camp Mabry?" Ada asked, looking away from the steering wheel to glance at him for a second. Sy looked exhausted, not that she could she blame him after three different flights and a seemingly endless dinner. They had finally called it a night once the kids had started getting fussy.

"January 15th." He replied. "But they want me to stop by before then to have a look around the base and sign the contract."

"You're going to boss the hell out of the new recruits," Ada laughed, getting him to lighten up and even chuckle.

"You'd be surprised to know I'm actually a fair and considerate captain," Sy defended himself.

Next to him, Ada huffed as she tried stiffing the bubble of laughter, trying not miss the right exit off the main road.

"I just value discipline and compliance a lot," he added, his tone growing teasing.

This time, she was unable to stop her laugh. "Believe me, I know you do."

The drive was a short one to their house in the suburbs and she was soon parking her in their driveaway.

Ada fumbled with the key as she tried opening the front door, nervousness setting back in as she felt Sy standing behind her, holding his duffel bag. He followed in quickly after her, once she had finally managed to open the door.

"Welcome home, captain!" Ada cheered in her silliest tone as he discarded his bag on the floor.

Then, before she could even react, Sy was on her. His arms lifted her up, his body caging hers against the wall before capturing her lips in the most ferocious kiss she could imagine.

Out of instinct, her legs locked around his waist and her hands dug into his shoulders, unwilling to let go of him now that he was finally there. Sy grinned against her lips, amused by her fervour, not that he felt any different.

He broke off the kiss as he pulled them away from the wall, freeing a hand to shrug her coat off her shoulders. "You ain't gonna need that, darlin'," he promised, throwing the coat in the direction of the kitchen, not caring where it landed.

Then his mouth latched on to her throat, forcing a delicious moan out of his wife as he carefully manoeuvred them upstairs, still steady on his feet despite the alcohol. Sy was almost surprised when he pushed open the door to their bedroom with his foot and it didn't squeak, but that thought was fleeting as Ada started rolling her hips against his. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the war, not the explosion or his guilt, only the woman in his arms.

Unceremoniously, he let her fall on the bed, the urgency now flowing through his blood keeping him from doing things the gentleman way. Ada didn't mind, giggling as she unzipped her dress and slid the red thing over her head, along with her bra. Apparently, she had decided to forego panties. Sy stood there, almost mesmerised as he watched her, suddenly not certain if he dared tainting her with his touch but Ada quickly made that decision for him as she got up on her knees.

"A little less staring and a little more undressing, captain," she purred with a smirk, her fingers determined as they made quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

"That's it, darlin'. You're in for it now," Sy roared, pulling her in for another furious kiss before pushing her back against the mattress, making her land on her back as he got undressed in record time. Fuck, was he hard.

"Open up for your captain." Sy ordered and Ada complied instantly, her legs falling open for him as she peered up at him, holding herself up on her elbows and worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "That's a good girl," he praised.

Without losing another second, Sy settled in between her legs, wrapping his strong arms around her thighs and parting them to their limits. He wanted to worship her body the way she deserved, show her exactly just how appreciative he was of her, how much he craved her, but it had been months and Sy was a starving man who had just been presented with the perfect meal.

"Fuck Sy!" Ada screamed out, her back arching off the bed the instant he licked her just where she craved him most. He chuckled against her, marvelling at how wet she already was for him.

She tried closing her legs around his head, rejoicing at the feeling of his beard rubbing against her sensitive skin and never wanting him to leave again, but his arms were too strong for her clenching thighs. She was left defenceless against his assault, with no choice but to obscenely moan her pleasure and let herself cum against his tongue as his thumb expertly massaged her clit.

The coil inside her snapped and her body tensed up before letting go just as suddenly, her now damp back falling back on the mattress. "Fuck, Sy." Ada breathed out, her chest heaving as she tried to reopen her eyes only to find her husband playfully gazing up at her, smirking with her arousal glistening on his beard. The sight alone almost made her cum again. "I'll never let you leave again!"

He smiled in response, placing a kiss on her lower stomach before crawling up her body. "I've no intention to, baby," he promised.

Ada caught a glimpse of his hard, flushed erection as his body slid over hers, realizing in her post-orgasmic haze that she was in for an even bigger treat now. She could taste herself in his mouth as they kissed, his hand slithering behind her back to seize her shoulder and hold her closer. Teasingly, he started rolling his hips, his hard clock rubbing against her slick cunt, coating himself with arousal before finally, he found his way inside her, burying his head next to hers in the pillow.

Ada whimpered as he did so, her eyes tearing up as his clock slid inside her. She had evidently grown unaccustomed to his girth and length in his absence. Sy paused immediately, his muscles tense as he looked at her with concern. “You okay?” She nodded in silence, wanting him to start moving but Sy looked unconvinced, using all his strength to keep still despite his desire to fuck her right into the mattress. Without a warning, Ada tightly wrapped her legs around his hips, making him go deeper. Sy let out a reverberating groan. “God, darlin’. I missed you.”

He started thrusting into her with such vigour, such determination it felt as if he was trying to bury himself so deep inside her, no one would ever be able to pry him away from her again. It did hurt, her cervix was getting battered with each of his hard movements but she found herself enjoying the pain because it was him; it was Sy and he was right there with her, back in her arms, and she could feel his heart beat beneath her fingertips as her hand gripped at his chest.

"Fuck, I'm... I’m," Ada gasped incoherently, her nails now scratching the skin of his back. Sy was sure there would be marks there in the morning which made him enjoy the sensation even more.

"I got you," he rasped. If possible, he pulled her even tighter to him, his pubic bone now rubbing against hers in that delicious way only he was able to do. Her slick walls were now contracting around him, her second orgasm impending. "Fuck," he groaned, his breath coming out in a stutter. "Are you...Can I...?"

Sy didn't have to word it, she knew what he meant. "Cum in me, Sy. Please," she almost begged.

Her words did it. His hips stuttered as he pushed in deep just when his orgasm washed over him, exploding inside her. His face contorted with pleasure and that sight alone had her fast tracking her fall over the figurative edge. He had his face buried on the crook of her neck, muffling his groans and moans against her skin as the dam gave way within her.

°°°

Sy grunted against his pillow, slowly waking up the following morning. He was convinced he was just rousing after a very nice dream and he was ready to toss his alarm clock across the room, furious at the object for interrupting his dream, that for once, had been a good one. With a startle, Sy realized that no blasting alarm had woken him up but the sunlight on his face. Opening his eyes, he felt almost as if on foreign ground. He was home.

As quietly as he could manage, Sy turned around in bed, seeking his wife only to find her side empty. Just at that moment, he heard cursing coming up from the kitchen and scoffed. He’d bet his life Ada was cracking eggs, something she hated.

Feeling rested and in a much more relaxed mood than the previous day, Sy got out of bed and started searching for a pair of boxer briefs so he could go join her downstairs when he caught a sniff of himself. Fuck, did he stink. How Ada hadn’t thrown him out of bed, he didn’t know.

Out of habit, Sy hurried to the en-suite bathroom, wanting to shower as fast as possible before realizing that this time around, it was different. He wasn’t going back, he didn’t have to rush, their time together wasn’t counted. With that in mind, Sy forced himself to take his time, enjoying the act of brushing his teeth in a bathroom that smelled nice and showering with warm water. Ada had purchased his usual brands of shower gel and toothpaste, he noticed, even putting a red bow around his brand-new toothbrush by the sink. Even though he initially wanted to take his time to enjoy it, Sy still ended up rushing as he dried himself with a blue fluffy towel he didn’t recognize from his previous stay. He didn’t bother putting on anything more than his boxer briefs before heading downstairs. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t keep them on for long either.

Sy walked into one of the best sights he had even seen, when he entered the kitchen. Ada was standing in front of the stove, rhythmically tapping the black spatula against her naked thigh as she focused on the eggs and bacon she was preparing. The thin negligee - or whatever she called it, he always forgot - barely covered her ass and that outfit alone was one of the reasons he never minded that she always cracked up the heat so high, he felt like he was back under the hot desert sun.

Silent and stealthy like a predator despite his stature, Sy sneaked up on her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling her startle before relaxing once she noticed it was him. She smelled heavenly, Sy thought, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Watcha got cooking, darlin'?"

"Obviously breakfast," she sassed, making him softly pinch her ass in response. Ada squealed and jumped up. "Good morning to you too, Sy," she said but not before slapping the handle of the spatula against his thigh. He decided to let it slide... for now.

"Morning darlin'," he answered, kissing the crown of her head before darting his fingers into the pan and picking up a piece of bacon. It was sizzling hot, but the taste was worth it. He had missed being home! Speaking of being home... "What do you say we take the food and coffee upstairs and have ourselves breakfast in bed?" His tone failed to hide his true intentions.

Ada scoffed, the back of her head rubbing on his hairy chest and she shook her head. "Nice try but I actually intend to feed you. Your mother will have my head if I let you go hungry."

It was Sy's turn to laugh, his hands now roaming her body as she leaned forward to turn off the stove, pressing her ass against his crotch and eliciting a husky groan from him. "I'm hungry enough to eat both breakfast and you, don't worry."

Ada turned around, a huge grin on her angelic face. "Alright, you win. What do you say, we have breakfast, we do the kinky and then go grocery shopping?"

Sy tried hiding his smile but it was a lost cause. He loved it when she talked like that. He loved her, point. "Yes, ma'am."

[grey-pearce]

jackson has every right to be angry - an incoherent rambling

(SPOILERS BELOW FOR BLOODLINE DLC)

okay. so as much as some of us (probably just me) wanted a happy reunion between Jacks and Aiden, feasibly that wasn't possible and I'm very glad the DLC didn't go down that route. Jackson was ten. TEN years old when his Uncle Aiden forced him and his mom out of their hometown and to a completely different state (to my knowledge) all out of 'protection', and was never seen or heard from again.

Until, you know, Aiden broke into his London flat to 'protect' Jackson.

We all know how much his family means to Aiden, but to learn that he kept NO contact with his sister, let alone his nephew, in the last 15 years is heartbreaking. Jackson grew up and only had his mom around as family (to our knowledge): his only sibling tragically died at Aiden's hands, no cousins, no aunts and uncles, no grandparents, and most likely, no father figure. The only other family he had was his Uncle Aiden, and he flat out vaporized from his, and Nicki's, existence without as much of a phone call to properly explain everything.

If it was me, rolling into my apartment to see my estranged uncle snooping on my computer and eating my untouched snacks, I would also be pissed.

I'd be angry. I'd be upset, confused, screaming internally "Why the fuck are you coming into my life now when you had many other chances to do so?!"

Being that Aiden is a comfort character, I understand why he didn't call or send a text as Jackson would have preferred: Jackson had little to no way to have anyone contact him (for better or for worse), and he was under the impression by Rempart that Jackson was in immediate danger, so of course he wanted to make sure his only nephew was safe. But this action of course is going to make Jackson flip the fuck out.

We see throughout the DLC that Jackson is perfectly capable of handling himself (being the smart PhD student he is with Pearce blood) ((also Ubisoft give me a WD game with him as the protag PLEASE)), and he probably feels that Aiden is 'overbearing' with his need to fly ALL THE WAY TO FUCKING LONDON to check on him and make sure he was okay.

After all, he took the job from Jordi because it was based in London, where Jackson currently lived.

Jackson, who hasn't seen or heard from Aiden in 15 years, has grown up. He can fight on his own. He can hold his own. And Aiden even admits it! Saying that Jackson is a smart kid, smarter than him. As much as I wanted Aiden and Jackson to hug when they finally see each other after all those years, realistically speaking, it was never going to happen. Not at least at the start of the DLC.

Jackson warms up to Aiden over time (a little too quickly in my opinion, but the game had to make their uncle/nephew bond be strong in order for the second act to make sense), and even agreeing to work with Uncle Wrench to bring Aiden out of his coma. We don't get to see Jackson's reaction to being in Aiden's head (a post for another day), and them talking about it. I would like to believe that whole experience makes Jackson realize what Aiden was truly going through and the extent of the pain he felt that he hid from everyone else, thus Jackson accepting Aiden's possibly-non-existent apology.

This is why Jackson was ultimately angry and aggressive upon his first few interactions with Dear Ol' Uncle Aiden. He's not a kid anymore, he can fight and be independent without the protection of others. He learned to survive without the support or help from other people, and the fact that Aiden feels the need to protect his 25 year old nephew from a raging man child must've felt insulting. Imagine having a family member who you haven't spoken to in literal decades show up at your doorstep because 'You're in danger'. Would you be happy to see them?

Jackson had every right to be angry, and even after being inside Aiden's fucked up memories, still has every right to be angry at Aiden.

[airi-p4]

Ice Dreams - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | ...

Lukanette Figure Skating AU? Lukanette Figure Skating AU.

I’ve been planning this for more than one year already ( @mamanabeille​ knows ) but Freya’s recent art for me fueled me to finish the first 2 chapters (out of more than 60...)

Header art is traditional art drawn by me about one year ago - Full pic HERE.

Summary

Despite being very talented and loving to skate, Marinette is determined to quit Figure Skating after the lack of decent results and the great amount of stress and pressure on her shoulders.

On the other hand, Juleka and Luka are average skaters in pairs category who, after years of hard work, have finally started showing some good results. But suddenly, Juleka is forced to retire, leaving Luka at the verge of retirement because of his need for a partner.

Can Juleka convince Luka and Marinette to give figure skating a second chance? Can they form a bond strong enough to reach the top and accomplish their dreams? Could something more than partnership spark between them?

AO3

________________________________

CHAPTER 1: Marinette

Figure skating can appeal to people for many reasons: the competitive part, the artistry, the music arrangements, the performances…

For Marinette figure skating was everything- her whole life.

When she was happy, she would love to skate. When she was sad, skating never failed to cheer her up. She was athletic, flexible and talented, gifted by both technique and artistry, as well as tenacity to work hard and never give up. Skating was an irreplaceable part of her life.

WAS.

In past tense.

Because even when it’s pleasant to watch the beautiful programs the skaters have to offer, there’s something that never changes during competitions: the scores are what really matter. Fail one element and you're screwed. Keep the program perfect but with minimum difficulty, you're off the podium. Do perfect in practice but fail in front of the judges: it's over.

This was Marinette's case.

Recently, consistency always failed her in competitions, and it had been a letdown to see how the past seasons had been going blank for her, without any outstanding accomplishment, despite her being on top almost all of her childhood. Her effort, and full potential didn’t show off on her competition results.

Marinette's parents and her coach, Miss Bustier, associated her disappointing results to her mentor’s and grandmother’s passing. But Marinette was well aware that the main reason behind her failures wasn't only how much she missed her granny; the real cause had a girl’s name: Lila Rossi.

It had already been 2 years since Lila joined her training classes under Miss Bustier's teachings. And everything had gone downhill after that.

It's not that she hadn't already been enduring bullying from Chloe Bourgeois, but Lila's bullying was at a whole different level.

The pressure, the expectations, the stress, the bullying, the injuries and damaged property, the struggle her parents went through to pay for her classes and competitions, how she had to sew her own dresses because she didn’t have the money to buy them, how she almost had no friends left... Everything piled up for years and made her finally crumble. Her skating consistency was affected and led only to constant failure.

In the end, she was exhausted, and no matter how much she loved ice skating, she reached her limit. She surpassed her limit.

Lila Rossi had won.

For two weeks now, since her last failure at a National Competition, Marinette had been skipping her skating classes. Coach Bustier was always exceptionally kind to her, and had been considerate (in her own way) this time as well, suggesting she take a few days to rest and get back again when she felt confident again.

But Marinette didn't intend to return under her coaching. Instead, she had set her mind to resign from her classes and, probably, even quit figure skating too.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

The most talented skater of the decade was seriously considering quitting skating for good. And it made her sad, but she couldn’t see any other way out of the spiral of failures she was caught in. No one was there to get her out of the dark hole she was buried in.

She certainly didn’t expect a second chance in figure skating.

_________________________________

During the days she didn't go to her classes, Marinette always spent her time at the Miraculous Ice Skate Rink, where her 'grandfather', Master Wang Fu worked as a manager, taking care of the installation and the opening and shutting down hours, along with the material to rent and the tickets for open to public times. Being her mother’s uncle, she had been babysat by him and his wife since she was a little kid. It was, in fact, Marianne Lenoir, was the one who taught Marinette the skating basics and the one who made her start practicing and love figure skating since she was 3 years old.

Marinette loved her grandparents a lot, and the passing of Miss Lenoir still pained her everyday. After her tragic loss, they became even closer, especially when Master Fu gave Marinette his late wife's earrings as a memento - he knew she would have given them to her at some point, since she loved the dark-haired girl a lot. And with no children on their own, Marinette was the closest they had to a daughter or granddaughter. Marinette had promised to treasure the earrings. They had a ladybug’s design engraved on them, only visible when light illuminated themfrom a certain angle. They were very mysterious and unique, and Marinette had loved them since her eyes had fallen on them. After becoming their owner, not even once she took them off. She felt the luck on her side as long as she wore them.

Except, that wasn’t the case anymore.

Marinette had her own theory of how Lila might have corrupted them when she touched them once, since all her luck was now gone from her side from that moment onwards.

On the ice, Marinette skated a little. But when she attempted to jump, a memory of her last competition crossed her mind and she fell down. Instead of standing up like always, she stayed seated on the floor, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Marinette! Are you ok? Did you get hurt?" asked Fu, worried. Rushing (as much as his old legs allowed him to) to aid her.

"Master-! I- I-... I can't skate anymore!" She broke down to cry even harder.

"That's not true, Marinette. You're just feeling discouraged now because of your recent results in competition. It's normal to feel like that. It will be ok"

"No Master…  It's not just competitions… It's everything… Lila, Chloe, my coach, my parents, my friends…and I miss Granny Marianne so much... I'll never be able to follow her steps now… I should just be realistic and give up..."

"Don't say that, dear. You have luck on your side. Like a ladybug. Lady Chance. You are talented enough to overcome this. I’m sure Marianne would be proud of you, even if you don't follow her steps. And you know? There's no need to compete if you don't feel like doing it. Many people just skate for fun or minor competitions. I’m sure the future has good things prepared for you. You just need to keep moving and you’ll find the right path to follow. And whatever you choose to do, we'll be proud of you. The doors to this ice rink are open for you to come whenever you want to"

That's right. She could skate without competitions. She could focus on something else and have skating as a hobby. Maybe she could make a living out of a figure skating outfit designer…

It was settled. She was quitting. And she was telling her parents tonight.

"Thank you, Master. I know what I want to do now" she answered, giving him a heartfelt hug. Fu smiled at her and patted her back a little, happy to see her smile was back on her face and how his granddaughter's tears had finally stopped.

___________________________

Marinette was very nervous when she arrived home. She tried to sneak to her room without being noticed, but her mother had been waiting for her, with a deeply worried expression on her face. Marinette gulped. 'She has probably found out I've been skipping my classes' she thought, but her mother's mind was focused on something else- more serious. Something the girl didn’t expect or could have imagined.

“Marinette. Calm down and listen to me. Are you still friends with Juleka?”

Marinette blinked: that was not the question she expected. She sighed before answering, confused about her mother’s unusual distress.

“Yes, mom. It’s been a long while since we’ve last seen or talked to each other, but she is my friend”. She paused for a second. “Why do you ask? You’re scaring me...”

Sabine Cheng took a deep breath before answering “Marinette… Juleka is at the hospital”.

Marinette’s mother’s grip on her shoulders wasn’t strong enough to keep the girl from jumping in shock, neither stopped her from panicking a second later.

“What!? What happened to her!? Is she ok!?”

“Calm down, Marinette. She’s ok. She just fainted. She…” Sabine paused, hesitating, before continuing with the explanation. “She’s been diagnosed with an eating disorder”

Marinette felt a rush of mixed feelings forming inside of her: but between sadness and worrisome, anger was the first emotion to come out of her body.

“No…! No way! I’m sure it’s all Chloé’s fault! She used to make mean comments about her body since we were little. Her ideas must have grown bigger in Juleka’s mind! Just because she was taller and larger than many of us…! And now Juleka is…! Juleka is…!”

The spiral of emotions she was feeling ended up falling in the form of tears, again, in a crying whimper. Sabine, worried for her daughter, cupped her cheek and let her cry until she calmed down a little. It was not easy for her to wait patiently to ask her what she had really wanted to know after she had heard about Juleka’s condition, but she knew the girl needed to let it out, even if it hurt her to see her daughter crying like that. It almost felt like there was something more behind the salty water spilling from her eyes, but she remained silent until her sobbing sounds ended, being engulfed by the silence of the living room. When the wait finally was over, Sabine Cheng spoke again, looking straight to her eyes.

“Marinette, I need to ask you something. And please, be honest with me" Marinette gulped and nervously nodded. "Are you eating properly? You’re not throwing it out, aren’t you? I know you’ve always been thin, but I can’t help it but worry about you… You know how common eating disorders are in figure skating… And with what happened to Juleka and how discouraged you look recently…”

Marinette tensed at her mother’s question, more offended than shocked. “Of course not, maman! I’m properly eating what you put on my plate! I would never waste what it takes you so much work. I’m grateful I always have freshly baked bread on my plate”

Marinette’s mother relaxed at her daughter's answer, hugging her.

“Good. That’s good. I’m so glad. So relieved. Thank you, Marinette”. She spoke again after breaking the hug. “I think you should pay Juleka a visit. Here’s the room number and the hospital address. You should be there for her”

“Thank you for telling me, maman. I’ll visit her tomorrow morning”, the girl said, grabbing the paper with Juleka’s hospital contact from her mother’s hand.

“Good girl. I’m proud of you”

“Thank you, maman…” the twin-tailed girl managed to answer, feeling both happy and nauseous for the trust in her mother’s eyes. The thought of seeing disappointment on her parents' face terrified her.

‘No… I definitely can’t tell my parents yet…’ she thought.

_______________________

When Marinette arrived at Juleka's hospital room, she wasn't alone. The door was partially opened and she saw a blue-haired boy standing beside her. As soon as she knocked on the door, the boy noticed her and approached, with an interrogative and sad expression on his face. He was handsome despite his sad expression, Marinette thought, distracted for a second.

"I- I'm- Juleka...?" She managed to say, and the boy just nodded.

“Juleka, you have a visitor. I’ll let you two talk privately" he said, turning his head to the girl in the bed. "Thank you for coming,” he solemnly told Marinette before leaving the room.

“Thank you” she said when getting inside, without looking at him.

It had been a while since Marinette had talked to Juleka. It had been more difficult to keep in touch after she switched to pairs skating some years ago, even if they still exchanged messages and hung out together sometimes.

“Juleka, how are you? I heard you fainted and…” Her feet moved slowly towards her friend as she greeted her, but she gasped when she saw her figure: she couldn't be healthy looking the way she did.

“Marinette. Thanks for coming” Juleka weakly smiled.

“Juleka, look at you! You look so skinny! You have to eat! You shouldn’t listen to what people or magazines say, it’s dangerous! You need to be healthy.”

“I am healthy" she assured her, but Marinette's worried eyes made her admit her problem. "But… you’re right. There’s no need for me to keep throwing out my food. I’m retiring from figure skating”

"What?" Marinette gasped, and Juleka reaffirmed her words with a nod. “Oh no, Juleka! I know you loved it… I’m so sorry for you…” The baker's daughter sympathized.

“It’s Ok, Marinette. Thank you… I’m actually more worried about my brother. We were a team and now his dream is crushed because of me… He can’t compete without a partner and… I’ve wasted everything…”

“Oh, Juleka…”, she warmly hugged her friend.

Not wanting to talk more about her eating disorder, Juleka asked Marinette a question.

“What about you, Marinette? How are things going? Are you getting closer to your dream? You were always first place no matter what! I bet you’ve been improving and setting even higher scores by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could even land a triple axel!”

“I can land it, actually! It’s just… for some reason I can’t seem to land any of my jumps lately during competitions… I keep failing over and over… and then there’s Chloé and Lila… You know… I’m thinking of quitting…” she said in a sigh.

“Oh no, Marinette! You can’t quit! You are the most skilled and talented skater I’ve ever seen. Your scores as a child were in another league! You are bound to make history in figure skating, I know you do. You can’t quit!”

“It’s not a matter of skill anymore, Juleka… It’s a matter of results and wasted effort. I just… I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep my parents overworking to pay for my skating classes with me failing every single jump in competition. I can’t look at their disappointed looks every time I fail their expectations. And Lila’s bullying only keeps escalating while my coach never believes anything I say… I’m not motivated anymore. I don’t have the strength to keep trying...”

Marinette looked devastated as she spoke. Quitting figure skating couldn't make her happy. Juleka knew she would be feeling even worse than herself. She didn't like to see her friend like that.

“Are you sure, Marinette? Because I think it’s a waste. You could win an Olympic gold medal if you aimed for it. It’s just… so frustrating…”

“Juleka…”

After a long silence, Juleka set her determination and faced a surprised Marinette with a serious look on her eyes.

“No. Marinette, I can’t let you quit like that! Look at me. I’ve been forced to quit because of my condition. I wanted to keep skating! I didn’t want to stop! And yet… you say you want to quit. My brother says he wants to quit. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!? You have no consideration for me or for yourselves!" She yelled and then paused to take a deep breath. "Marinette, look at my face and tell me again you want to quit! Can you do it?”

“I-... I want to… " Marinette paused, unable to lie. "I want to keep skating!" She finally admitted. "But I can’t anymore, Juleka! I’ve tried to endure it, I’ve tried so hard! And yet… Nothing! It’s just useless. What’s the point when I’m starting to feel that skating is not fun anymore?”

“Oh no, Marinette, you can’t say that! You can’t give up your dream so easily. Who was that skater you admired? Your grandmother? Miss Lenoir? You dreamed of being like her someday! Graceful, elegant yet strong; sliding on the ice like if you were an angel coming from heaven, announcing salvation to all the graceful public crying tears of joy at your beautiful movements. I know you can do it, Marinette. You just need something or someone to…" Juleka paused for a moment. "Wait, I… I have an idea. Why don’t you try pairs skating for a while?”

Marinette was taken aback at her friend's suggestion.

“What? What are you talking about? I told you I want to… to quit…”

“No. Listen to me. You just need to try it out. You try, and I won’t oppose you quitting if you decide to do so after you’ve tried it out.”

“What’s the deal…?”, Marinette said, unconvinced.

“I want you to take my place. I want you and my brother to help each other recover your motivation, your goals, your dreams. We just got a decent score for international competitions and I… I messed up. He did his best and improved a lot. He could score high, to the top maybe, with the right partner… and I think you’re a better fit partner than I could ever be” she said in a weak sigh.

“But- I don’t even know your brother. And I’ve never done pair skating before! And most importantly- there’s no way I could fill in your place! Nobody can! I'm sure you’re important for your brother, and he doesn’t even know me! He won’t want me to pair with him anyway” Marinette protested.

“That’s my part. I’ll convince him to give you a chance. So I need you to give pairs skating a chance, too. You both still have a second chance in figure skating. And I bet you can reach the top in a few years'', Juleka smiled. Her eyes showed conviction in her words, but Marinette had doubts.

“Are you sure he-?” she started, but Juleka cut her, knowing how the question ended.

“I’m sure. Just give it a try. For me. For our friendship. I want you to skate on my behalf. Please... I’m begging you, Marinette. Just one week. One more chance. I’m sure you won’t regret it. No, I promise you won’t”

“Ok, Juleka… I’ll do it. Just one try. No more. I’m quitting if I can’t keep it up. Or if your brother doesn’t like me…”

“He’ll like you. He just needs to meet you.” she smiled in reassurance and Marinette hugged her.

Marinette, noticing the time, broke the hug and spoke again. "I have to go now, but I’ll come again next week. Get well soon, please”

“Thank you, Marinette. For coming and for accepting my selfish request. I’ll send you a message later.”

“Of course, you are still my dear friend, Juleka. Get well soon, ok?”

“I’ll try… Thank you for coming”, she answered, waving her goodbye. ‘Now I need to convince Luka…' she thought, eyeing her friend crossing through the door.

[wh6res]

“𝑰’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻, 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑺𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑹.”

part of the 21 ways to kill your lover collab hosted by the lovely miss solange @du0tine

pairing. entity! xdj & f! reader | word count. 5.4k

synopsis. he wasn’t a god, he wasn’t a devil, and fuck, he’s surely not an angel, but he will be your saviour and your light ‘till kingdome come.

warnings. tread with caution. yandere/possesive themes, religious themes, violence, mentions of gore, swearing, mentions of ptsd, mentions of physical abuse, a lot of character deaths, manipulation, stalking, and implications of suicide

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think xiaojun from wayv would act like this in real life.

a soul’s vulnerability gives him strength. he has scourged far and wide and has yet to encounter a soul as interesting as yours. he never thought a heart filled with hatred and a fragile mentality can be such a sweet combination. xiaojun would be stupid not to latch his greedy talons onto you.

he hides in the darkest corners of your room at night, unseen and unheard, just watching over you like a predator to his poor unsuspecting gazelle before diving into the anticipated chase. 

he moves in with you into the cheap apartment you got for yourself here in the big city—which he thinks is an awful move because of how lonely it’ll be. but hey, it wasn’t anyone’s fault that you got chased out of your own home by your stepdad, your very own biological mom too scared to say a peep of defense to your name. 

your downfalls became xiaojun’s highlights. 

he would’ve felt sorry for you after finding out about that abusive old man. ugh, he scowls. your stepdad makes the entity’s blood boil and he doesn’t even have blood to begin with. the same man who holds the bible in his left hand when he preaches sermons for the people, is the same hand he uses to hit you across the face. 

the same hand he uses to pull at your hair. the same hand he uses to punch your gut. the same hand he uses to shove your mom down when she tries interfering. 

xiaojun may hate men of god but above all, he absolutely detests the kind your old man is—a faker, who thinks he can get away with the shit mess he’s making. xiaojun would never take that preacher’s murky soul even if he offered it to the entity voluntarily. fake. fake. fake. fake. fake. xiaojun should’ve killed him. xiaojun should’ve slit his throat. xiaojun should’ve torn his eyes out—

ah, ah, ah.

he can’t afford to make you any less vulnerable than you already are, now, can he? after all, he can be anything you want but he’s no angel. 

so he watched from the sidelines. 

watched you cry. watched you bleed. watched your scars form. watched the hate and resentment you have for your own family fester in your heart until it grew to a size you can’t hide within yourself anymore. 

and then you left home. 

xiaojun has to admit, for a second, maybe leaving home will make your soul unworthy, will break the mold he’s already had of you and will completely spoil his well-thought out plans.

so really, he can only scoff when he watches you walk around the apartment wearing that pretty dress on a sunday morning, darting around with calculated steps to shove everything inside your bag to go to church. the dress hangs nicely against your skin but he’d rather you stay and wear nothing. 

maybe you’d finally find contentment and happiness in this place, in this city, on your own. soaring high without a cage, without someone to hold you back—these things fill his thoughts like a plague until you come barging back into the door 30 minutes later. 

he’s been watching you long enough to know church service wouldn’t end for another 30 minutes or so. xiaojun’s eyebrows quirk up. why would his fragile little gazelle come back oh so early? but his question is immediately answered when he detects your shaky breaths and the unshed tears in your glistening eyes

you’re suffering the post-traumatic effects your shit stepdad has caused. seeing another preacher must’ve been a trigger, he thinks, eyeing you with a look on his face. xiaojun felt a little stupid. of course, swimming to the surface will be tough with all that trauma anchoring you down.

it’ll be tough, indeed… so why not sink you even deeper?

it didn’t take much energy for him to start manipulating your dreams. every nap, every deep sleep, he’d replay all the horrible things your stepdad has done to you and he realizes how dreams depicted from his perspective took a larger toll on you versus the ones from your own point of view—witnessing for yourself how weak and helpless you had been seemed to chip away bigger parts of you, he notices. your terrified screams when waking up in cold sweat getting louder and louder with every passing nightmare.

he pushed, and pushed, and pushed until you were standing right at the edge of sanity. until you start questioning your own self-worth and judgment, the invisible chains of the trauma too strong to break. until your radiant skin looked deathly, with gaunt cheeks and white lips. until you developed a fear of sleeping because no, you don’t want to witness those horrors again. no. no. no. no, please don’t hit me—

xiaojun can’t help but admire his handiwork but no, he doesn’t have time for that! 

the next time you fell asleep you had been desperately holding onto your 5th bottle of gatorade like it was a torch breaking through the darkness. you’ve intake so much of the energy drink that your body has grown used to it. you would’ve switched to caffeine, but from how much you drank it prior to the energy drinks, your blood is practically coffee at this point. 

“you’re living in my house now, young lady! i’d like to see some respect from your or i’ll fucking beat it into you!”

“stop! please. hit me instead, hit me!” 

“this is all your fault, bitch! how can you raise one daughter wrong? no wonder your husband left you!”

murky and black, you can’t even see the bottom at this point. it keeps pulling you down, and down, and down, until you couldn’t breathe. until your head feels light. until your heart beats erratically within your ribcage as you fought to the surface. 

with all the negative emotions surging through you in thunderous waves, it’s a wonder how no other lonesome, starving entity has latched onto you like xiaojun. although realistically, he was here first, as if he’ll let any other being like him go near you.

it took a greater amount of energy to twist and manipulate the plotline of certain events in a dream. if xiaojun hadn’t grown strong from all your negativity, he’d never be able to do it. 

he can never forget the day he first appeared to you in a dream. to have you cling onto him as you willingly took his hand—not that he was caught by surprise, anyway. every second of every hour of every day xiaojun spent plotting your demise has led to this fruitful day of “meeting” you for the first time. 

“i’m right here,” he said, shaking fingers tracing over your cheeks. a soft caress you have never experienced. 

the man in your dreams is someone you’ve never met before—you’re positive that you haven’t because you’d never forget a face as handsome as his. he appears like an angel casted over divine light, with a soft smile that can cure the plague as he offers his hands for you to take. it was beautiful, how your nightmares turned into dreams the moment the mysterious man arrived. 

how’d you ever know, that the hand you grabbed is the wolf in sheep’s clothing?

it’s sad really, how you’ve only managed to escape one horror only to jump into the next but xiaojun can’t find it in himself to feel bad. well, maybe a little, it’s a fleeting thought. something that disappeared as quickly as it had passed by.

it was only after a few weeks of constantly appearing in your dreams did his plan start to backfire. the change in your behavior isn’t subtle, either, and it angered him all the more. he didn’t see this coming, not even from lightyears away.

simple to say you’ve grown a little more… how can xiaojun put this into words? well, a little more outgoing. adventurous. meeting new people and going to new places and experiencing new things. he can see everything as clear as day—you were healing from your past, leaving the dark chapters in your life to write newer and brighter ones that revolved on having actual healthy relationships for once. 

his seething anger of his failed plans had made all the windows in your apartment burst into thousand little pieces. if you had fine china dishes displayed on your kitchen cabinets he would’ve broken those too. how can you go against him like this? look at you all happy and smiley even as the room turned ice cold because of xiaojun’s suffocating presence. you never even thought once about it—how naive. 

tormenting you through dreams isn’t working anymore. xiaojun has to up his game if he wants to break you down and revert you back to that paranoid, sensitive, and frail self that couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t talk to any other human being without feeling the ghost of your abusive step-father’s hands against your skin. 

who says he can only control you through mind games alone? after he’s done what needs to be done, grief and self-pity will go hand in hand. a combination so cruel and heavy on your shoulders that xiaojun can already savor the metallic tangy taste of victory. 

“no! yeji—!”

xiaojun watches unblinking when he makes one of your new friends walk out the sidewalk and right into an overspeeding car. 

tires skidding across the pavement, the breaks not working, glass shattering, bones cracking against the force of the hit—dead, right on the fucking spot.

he’s never heard you scream that loud and he shudders in pleasure as the vibrations of your shrill voice courses through his veins. 

he missed this, your complete and utter misery. 

but he wasn’t done yet. 

“don’t you think it’s a ‘lil chilly in here?” ryujin asks, looking over to your side before drinking the hot chocolate she prepared for both of you. 

grieving together with a friend can be good, hence why you’re now in her apartment a month later after yeji’s funeral. 

you answer after taking a sip. “no, not really.” 

xiaojun grins, giddy and a skip in his step while making his way towards you as he side-eyes your friend, who religiously drank her hot chocolate all the while bundling up next to you so you both can watch the movie together playing on the laptop. 

this one, well, he particularly doesn’t like this one. 

if your other friend was meant to be a casualty, a death borne from not one smidge of personal vendetta, this one, this ryujin is different. heck, he even remembers her fucking name.

no, no, no. xiaojun can feel his skin crawl as ryujin cuddles intimately closer as she stares at you from her peripheral, feeling out whether you’d react or not as she sneaks an arm around your waist. his anger turns a fever pitch, seeing you with someone else driving him up the wall. you were meant to be his sad and hopeless little gazelle and his alone.

xiaojun hoped the poison travels fast or so help him he’ll fucking rip her off of you—and he would’ve, when he saw you and ryujin slowly leaning into one another, head angled and obviously going in for a kiss. he would’ve, when one of ryujin’s hands come up to cup your face. he would’ve… until the poison reached its destination in her body, right when your lips were about to touch. 

ryujin’s lungs seized, breathing becoming an agent to her demise as the oxygen from her lungs disappear into nothingness. the last thing she saw is your horrified face, tears streaming. she swore you were shouting something, probably her name, but it’s overpowered by the incessant ring in her ears.

when her mouth foamed and she laid limp on the couch right next to you, you knew ryujin would never wake again to give you that kiss. 

xiaojun steps back to admire the havoc he wreaked. two of your friends dead, that should be enough to incapacitate you—whether it be permanent or not, he just wants to see you drown in misery. 

and as he slowly dissipates into the void, there’s a little smile on his face as he stares you down, burning the image of your histeria in his head, the echoes of your woeful cries music to his ears. 

you never dared step foot out of your apartment. 

groceries were delivered to your door, trash is slowly but surely building up, and the place was a whole mess. the entity haunting you has never seen you this… shattered, even when you left home. it was like your brain has stopped working and your body turned into nothing more but a cusp of who you used to be. 

it’s scary looking in the mirror and not recognizing the reflection—so, you painted all of them black. it was an in the heat of a moment kind of thing that took place the moment you came home from the police station, on the exact day she passed away before your eyes. 

xiaojun just has to “misplace” a few pints of paint you had used from when you renovated the apartment in the past, putting the cans where you can easily see them and think that the idea belonged to you when in reality, it’s the entity that put the idea in your head. 

there was a blanket over your shoulder when you came back from the station. it wasn’t yours, they gave it to you while you sat opposite to a stoic detective in a cold interrogation room, yet you made no move to shrug it off even after arriving at your apartment, fingers clutching the fabric like a lifeline and refusing to believe whatever that had transpired in ryujin’s apartment. 

eyes unseeing, stumbling with your steps, back hunched with the curse of the universe weighing down on your back—xiaojun couldn’t’ve been more proud of what he had done.

you were spiraling out of control. a self-destructive cycle you cannot seem to fight your way out of as your nightmares came back to haunt you. the tall waves of anxiety and paranoia drowning and pushing you under the surface. 

for once you don’t fight the current, you just let it pull you under. 

every time you close your eyes, you can hear the deafening screech of rubber tires against concrete before the car hits yeji. can vividly see the foams of the poison coming out of ryujin’s mouth as if it was caught on tape and is now playing on loop. 

your other friends have donned you as bad luck, cursed to have a fucked up life and will fuck up other people’s lives too if they get even as close as an arm length to you. too scared to lose any more people, you decided to completely push everyone away and had completely shut yourself out from the world beyond the four corners of your apartment. 

it’s like your trauma from before has come crawling back to you, only now, he brings himself a little friend called guilt. 

what are the odds that your two friends died after the other when the person they’ve each last spent time with was you? even the police found it too much a coincidence. if it wasn’t for the cctv cams in the corners of ryujin’s apartment, you’d be facing trial for a murder you didn’t commit. 

you eye the usb stuck in one of your laptop’s ports. it’s black, with an srj poisoning case written in red ink on the small patch of masking tape pasted onto the back of the plastic. 

after being stuck in an interrogation room for the last two hours, you had sneakily swiped it out of the detective's desk on your way out of the station. you remembered it was the usb with a copy of ryujin’s cctv cams, some underling busting into the interrogation room while in the middle of your questioning, holding the tiny usb between his fingers. 

your stomach churned when the detective looked at you spitefully, as if he couldn’t fucking care less of the evidence presented to him in a silver platter and would thoroughly take pleasure in throwing you in jail himself, guilty or not. the last look he shot you still sends shivers down your spine, the sharpness in his gaze as he regarded you. “you killed them. i know you did.”

a week of self-induced isolation later and you start to believe in it yourself. 

in the middle of screaming your lungs out and cursing the gods above for your sorry excuse of a life, you had thrown the usb somewhere in the apartment. not that you bothered to look for it right after, you were too busy wallowing in self pity before passing out on the living room floor. when you wake up, you’ve forgotten all about it. 

so it was interesting, seeing the usb again after days and days of wallowing in grief. you had fallen off the couch while in the middle of a slumber and you spotted the small piece of tech lying underneath it with the other empty coke cans. 

eyeing the laptop on the coffee table, you remember you haven’t taken a look at the evidence yourself—the detective had given you the stink eye when you tried shuffling closer to peep a look. carelessly, you shove all other objects off the table to pull the laptop closer. you plant yourself on the ground cross-legged, not batting an eyelash even when you feel the crumbs of chips against your skin. 

you boot the laptop on, thankful you’ve yet to forget its password, and plugged the usb in again. it was simple to navigate, to say the least, the folder popping up in a matter of seconds. you thought it stored a whole collection of her cctv footages but alas, it didn’t, saving you the time and energy scourging through unwanted boring files. 

hands shaking, you clicked on the video. 

and it was as if you’re thrown back into that event in your life that has now become a distant memory. the hug ryujin gave you when she opened the door, her words of comfort when you opened up about your deteriorating mental health after your friend passed away, and finally, the warm feel of the mug against the palm of your hand. 

wait a minute. 

you perk up from your seat, groaning aloud when your knee hits the underside of the coffee table at your haste, fingers darting around to press the back 10 seconds button. the sweat starts forming in your forehead and palms, making your hand feel clammy and disgusting but it was the last of your worries. 

did you see that correctly?

the quality is a bit low and the camera angle isn’t optimal. you can only see ryujin’s side profile but her glassy eyes are unmistakable and her actions look robotic at best. 

this is after she made your hot cocoa and had delivered it to your shivering, sniffling form on the couch, all bundled up snug and cozy in the blanket she provided. you remember ryujin winking as she walked back towards her kitchen after you thanked her. 

the way she poured poison in her own mug ruled her case as suicice. the evidence is right there in your face but the unease still sits heavy on your stomach and confusion clouds your brain like cannabis. 

this doesn’t make any sense. 

you knew her, ryujin. she’s never one to succumb to her negative emotions, always facing her problems with head held high. her overall mindset, in general, made her the last person you’d think would ever commit suicide. you’ve replayed the video a thousand times by now, still unable to wrap your head around the fact that she killed herself. 

having the sudden urge for another bottle of gatorade, you pressed the pause button as you try hauling yourself up with your arms. 

you pause. pushing your face closer to the laptop screen, rubbing at your eyes incredulously as you eye the corner of her kitchen. 

ryujin’s apartment isn’t that luxurious, nor is it too rundown, but there can be little exceptions here and there. 

like the cheap LED bulbs attached rather messily onto her ceiling, one of the six sources of light flickering on and off. you remember how many times you’ve told her to get it fixed yet she never really paid you any heed.

with shaking fingers, you replayed it one more time, hoping on everything you believe in that it wasn’t what it looks like. this can’t be it—how is that possible—

it’s him, the man who has appeared like an angel in your dream to sweep you away from evil. but standing in the corner, under the flickering lights of your friend’s kitchen, he looked anything but an angelic. 

your mind is going haywire, your body shook in confusion, and sweat started dribbling down your neck. you would’ve thought you made a mistake because how is this even possible? the angelic man in your dreams isn’t real—he can’t be real, he can’t appear like this when you aren’t even sleeping because he’s not real!

he can’t… right?

he doesn’t look too harmless, what with his hands crossed and leisurely leaning against the wall. but one look at his eyes and you know you’re wrong. even through the shit quality of the cctv footage you can still feel the fury and the absolute hate his eyes held as he stared her down menacingly, unblinking.

stared her down as she made her own cocoa, as she hunches down to open the sink cabinets to get that pesky rat poison, as she poured it on her mug, as she swirls the spoon around to mix the deadly concoction all together in a hauntingly robotic way that looked too much like ryujin was being told what to do.

and as you let the video play the rest of its content and felt like the tragedy was unfolding right before your very eyes again—you couldn’t breathe, panic gripping onto you like a vice, the sharp talons of fear sinking deep under your skin. 

you don’t register the coffee table toppling over in your haste to stand up. desperately putting a distance between you and the laptop as you turned and stumbled towards the hallway leading to your bedroom. 

you stop, pathetically landing on your knees before the open archway. if you hadn’t been shaking in fear before, then you surely were now. 

he’s here—can you even call it a he?

the man stands at the end of the hallway. in that similar, non-threatening stature with his arms crossed and body leaning against the wall. 

but the mischief in his eyes is enough of a warning. 

he’s come for you. 

he’s come to finish the job. 

“finally figured it out?”

you screamed, throwing the closest thing you can at him as you shuffle someplace else in your apartment. his laugh sounded pleasant in the ear when you were off in dreamland, but now? it sounded like nails grating against a chalkboard. 

your legs eventually led you to the front door. appearances be damned. you weren’t even wearing a bra and you haven’t showered for days but fuck no you’re not going to stay here with that—that—that monster!

“baby, don’t leave! the fun hasn’t even started yet!”

you grab the doorknob and twist, practically throwing yourself out into the hallway, eyes frantic as you stumble and land face first against—

sticky. the floor’s sticky and there was a smell you can’t seem to pinpoint. it’s tangy, metallic, and you can almost taste the scent yourself in your tongue and when you look down—you want to throw up. 

lying next to each other in pools of their own blood, lies yeji and ryujin side by side, faces towards each other. their eyes hauntingly empty and unseeing as they stared up at you. 

you shrieked, voice scratching against your dry throat as you threw yourself back into your apartment, the door slamming shut in itself. you didn’t care if there’s now a huge mess of blood staining the carpets on the foyer. you curl in on yourself, hair sticking to your face as you covered your ears and shut your eyes. 

“oh, my love…”

you felt his presence before you can hear him. 

a flashback plays in your head—hot chocolate, soft blankets, and a friend who you loved with all your heart. “don’t you think it’s a little chilly in here?"

you answered. “no, not really?”

the tears start streaming like waterfalls, mixing with the blood and sweat already caked in your face. ryujin knew, she felt it back at her apartment yet you disregarded her completely.

“it’s not your fault,” the entity’s hands are ice cold when he gently pulls at your wrist. “everything is as it should be. now, open your eyes. there’s nothing to be afraid of. i’m not going to hurt you.”

stubbornly, you shook your head as you squeezed your lids even tighter, refusing to look at the monster dead in the eye.

“don’t be like that, my love. if i wanted to hurt you, i would’ve done it a long time ago.”

you don’t listen, hunching and curling your knees even more against your torso as you try to block out his voice. it’s unfair how gentle it sounded but your blood ran cold when you realize this is how he got ryujin to poison herself, this is how he got yeji to walk in front of a speeding car—

“hail mary, full—full of grace,” you pray under your breath, shaking like a leaf. “the lord… the lord is with thee. blessed art thou among women…”

“you’re praying?” there’s an underlying mocking to e in his voice. “this is fucking hilarious!”

your incessant mumbling partnered with how you rocked your body back and forth, made something snap within xiaojun. he already stated he won’t hurt you! did he break you so much that now you’re unable to hear stuff properly, too?

“holy mary, mo—mother of god, pray for us sinners, now and—and at the hour of our death, amen. hail mary, full of grace…”

“stop.” his body twitches, having the sudden urge to pull all his hair out and burn this fucking building to the ground.

yet you continue. “the lord is with thee, blessed art thou among—among women and blessed is the… the fruit of thy womb, jesus…”

“i said stop, [name]. don’t fucking test me.”

“holy mary, mother of god—pray—pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our—”

you screeched in pain as your forehead comes in contact with a mirror, the sound of it shattering is deafening to the ears. his icy fingers let go of your nape, letting you fall hard to the ground. your ears perk up at the sound of streaming water. 

you weren’t in the foyer anymore, you feel cold tiles instead of the rough texture of the dirty carpet underneath you. eyes fluttering, you slowly pry them open, and the first thing you see is the faulty pipes found underneath your bathroom’s sink. patches of your clothes start getting wet. 

“you think a prayer of all things can stop me? i’m insulted!” you hiss when he grabs your face, hands so cold that it feels like you’re skin is burning off. “i was going to play nice.”

he pulls you towards him, hand encased around your throat. he shoves the open hair dryer into the half-filled bath tub as you feel him vibrate against you. “you don’t know how long i waited, how much energy i needed to appear to you like this.”

it’s with dread you realize that he’s actually giggling.

you whine, eyes feeling like it’ll pop out of their sockets when he squeezed your neck tighter. with a sudden rush of adrenaline, you anchor your wrists against his arm but it proves to be useless when he’s too strong. 

“please,” you wheezed. “i did… i did nothing wrong. let go—please.”

in the corner of your eyes, you stare at him from the mirror, stomach twisting in discomfort when you see him throwing his head back, eyes rolling up after taking a long whiff of your hair. “this—this fear you have, my love, only makes me stronger.”

“nothing… i did nothing wrong—please! please… let, let me go…” you’re starting to feel lightheaded, black spots floating around your vision. 

“nothing? are you sure about that?” 

you cringe when he licks up the tears in your face, toes curling at the sheer disgust you feel. but the words he spews next is far worse than the hand he’s wrapped around your throat. 

“didn’t you left your mom alone with that abusive asshole? didn’t you make yeji walk into that incoming car? didn’t you make ryujin drink that poison?”

he whispers them so softly, so gently that you almost mistook them as proclamations of love. 

“no…” your voice breaks. 

“yes. yes, you did,” he knew you like the back of his hand, knew what to say and how to say them for you to break in his arms. “you killed them, my love. you’re a murderer. you don’t even deserve to be alive after all of the things you’ve done.”

it’s almost pathetic how you shake your head, eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge the truth. 

“that’s… that’s not true…”

“you’re a curse to the people you love, the embodiment of they're suffering. don’t you see it?”

“stop lying!—”

“am i?” he retorts, maneuvering you around to face the mirror. you swore you covered the whole thing with black paint. “just look at yourself.”

oh, how badly he wants to shove your face against the mirror but he mustn't get ahead of himself. 

“did any of your friends even visit you to see how you’re doing?” no, they never did. he smiles like he knows what you’re thinking. “the answer is all before you now, my love. you need to see through the haze and accept it for what it really is. no one loves you. even the god you’re praying to didn’t answer. there’s nothing, no one, left.”

and for the first time since he has you in his tight hold, you stopped fighting. sobs wracking through your body as your shoulders slump and accept defeat. 

xiaojun automatically lets you go, cooing like a lover in your ear as he tucks you into his embrace. “you want this all to stop, don’t you? someone to save you?”

you nodded, unable to look at him as his hand came up to wipe away your tears. no one has ever done that for you in months ever since yeji and ryujin died.

“i’m here,” xiaojun says, running fingers through your hair comfortingly. “i’m your light, your only saviour. you want that, right, my love?” choice is a mere illusion but he likes keeping up with formalities. 

you fail to notice the steps he took towards the now overflowing bathtub, too lost in the new highs and lows of emotions you feel. 

“yes.”

it only took seconds to push you into the tub. its water buzzing with a live electric current brought by the hair dryer he dropped only minutes ago.

the effect is instantaneous. he watches your muscle spasm, your skin growing darker as the live water fries your body alive. quickly, xiaojun reaches down to lift your head out the water, not wanting to ruin your pretty face.

the last thing you feel is xiaojun’s cold lips pressing against your own, the gentle caress as he wiped your tears away… and the electricity finally passing through your heart. 

when the entity pulls away from your dead body, he only whispers three things—“mine, at last.”