#this part is just. so them. they make me sick. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

azzibuckets · 5 hours ago

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sweet [part 6]

a/n: sorry for the delay..i kept this in my drafts hoping i’d get inspiration for something more creative but it never came so i waited like a month for nothing 😔

main masterlist | sweet masterlist

Paige really is trying to be happy.

But it’s incredibly fucking difficult to do when Azzi is laughing in somebody’s arms that’s not hers.

“Chill, P,” KK’s voice pipes up from beside her. “I think everyone in this room can feel how hard you’re staring at her.”

Paige doesn’t say anything, scoffing as she forces herself to turn around. She’s felt jealous before - but nothing like this, where her stomach is turning and she feels physically sick. “You need to get laid.” KK suggests, poking her arm. “Flirt with some pretty girls. Make her jealous.”

“Nah, bro.” Paige rubs her temples. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days, and her body never seems to feel 100% with all the conditioning and the intensity of their practices. Frankly, she’s physically and mentally exhausted, and the little energy she has left isn’t nowhere close to enough to deal with all this. “I’m done. I don’t wanna keep doing this back and forth shit.”

“So you’re gonna give up?” KK asks incredulously, eyes widening.

“She’s the one who gave up on us before we even started.” Paige toes the ground. “It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. I told her how I felt and she doesn’t want to date me.” Her jaw tightens. “I just don’t get how she can forgive Micaela so easily and not me.”

“I don’t think it’s about forgiveness, Paige,” KK says slowly, her demeanor serious. “I think she’s scared, and rightfully so.”

“I know she is,” the blonde groans. “But goddamn, isn’t it worth it? I think about her and I get fucking giddy thinking about being able to take her on dates and shit.”

KK falls silent, worry pooling in her eyes for the girl that’s been like an older sister to her. She’s not used to this, being the one to give Paige advice. “You keep saying you’re okay,” she says finally. “But you don’t have to be.”

“I’m not,” Paige admits. “But I will be.”

•••

Paige curses, kicking at the chair before flopping down on it. Jana and Ice exchange looks behind her back as she aggressively grabs a Gatorade bottle and squirts water into her mouth.

“None of my shots are fucking falling,” she rants, eyes quickly tracking the movement on the court. “How many turnovers have I had?” she asks, turning to one of the team managers on the bench.

The manager checks her iPad, looking back up at Paige sympathetically. “Four.”

“Fuck.” Paige slams the Gatorade bottle down on her thigh. “I don’t know what’s fucking wrong with me.”

The team is up by twenty five points, and Paige doesn’t see the court for the rest of the game. As soon as the buzzer sounds, she’s out of her seat, rushing through the handshake line to go to the locker room. She knows Geno likes giving the fourth quarter to the bench to help them get more experience, but she can’t help but be annoyed that she hadn’t been allowed to go back in and redeem herself against a shitty team that couldn’t even shoot. She’d turned the ball more over than had assists, for fuck’s sake.

“Paige, you coming?” The team is huddled around the door, on their way out for team dinner.

Paige is still next to her locker, head bowed down as she rummages through her duffel. “You guys go ahead,” she responds. “I think I’m done for the night.”

She hears her teammates hesitate, murmuring softly to each other before they decide to leave her be. As she hears the last of the footsteps, she turns around to make her own exit, making eye contact with big brown eyes as Azzi happens to look back at the same time.

Stay. Her eyes communicate everything she’s not brave enough to say out loud. Stay with me, she begs. I don’t want to be alone.

And Azzi, her best friend, who’s always been able to read Paige’s mind, who knows what Paige is feeling before she herself can ever put a name on it, who’s always there before Paige even has to ask, hesitates, her steps faltering, eyes rounding. But then her eyebrows dip, as if she’s remembering their last conversation, the hurt they’d made each other feel.

Azzi bites her bottom lip and turns back around, pace quickening to catch up with the rest of the team.

Paige slams her locker shut.

She was a fool for ever believing Azzi would still care about her after everything she’d done.

•••

“Don’t beat yourself up, Paige,” her dad says. His voice is distorted over the speaker, but still comforting from thousands of miles away. “What would you say if one of your teammates had an off performance like this? You need to learn to give yourself grace too.”

“I know, I just-” Paige looks up at the ceiling, studying the ugly floral patterns glaring back down at her. “I just can’t help but feel like I’m letting them down.” She pulls the blanket tighter over herself. “I’m supposed to be their voice on the court, and today I was doing jack shit.”

“That’s what makes you a good leader. Recognizing the mistakes you’ve made, moving on from them and becoming better after.”

Paige sighs. She appreciates her dad’s efforts to comfort her, but right now nice words are doing nothing to alleviate the hollowness in her heart.

“This isn’t helping, is it?” her dad, ever so honest, realizes.

Paige winces. “Not really. But I appreciate it.”

He chuckles softly. “I could tell. Azzi was the only one who could get through to you when you were like this back in high school. Where is she?”

“She’s, uh, out right now. With the team.” Paige doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they haven’t talked much at all in the last month. Her dad has always had a soft spot for Azzi, their more shy and introverted personalities making them get along.

“Well, when she comes back, have a talk with her, okay? I don’t want you sitting alone with your feelings. It’s not good for you.”

Paige swallows hard. “I will,” she lies. The mere mention of Azzi only intensifies the headache she’s already having. “Listen, I’m pretty tired, so I’m prolly gonna crash now.”

“Yeah, get some rest.” Her dad pauses. “I love you, Paige. Don’t forget that.”

“I know. Love you too.”

The call disconnects, and sitting in her bed in the dark room, the whirring air conditioning the only sound in the room besides her heavy breathing, Paige misses home more than ever. She misses her parents, and Drew. She misses being with people she hasn’t hurt over and over again with stupid mistakes.

“Paige?”

Paige looks up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, and she’s more confused to see Azzi standing there uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot, cheeks pretty and rosy from the cold outside.

“Az? How’d you get in?”

“Aubrey gave me the key card.” Azzi drops said key card on the table. “Everyone’s really worried, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut the crap.” Paige buries her face back into the pillows, not wanting another lecture on how bad she played. “I’m sorry I fucking blew it.”

“Paige.” Azzi’s tone is soft, and Paige realizes just now how much she’s missed the way her name sounds coming from Azzi’s mouth. “They’re not worried about the way you played. They’re worried about how you reacted to it. They’re worried about you.”

The younger girl sits down tentatively at the edge of the bed. “You always take care of the team,” she says quietly. “But you don’t have to carry the weight of that alone. Sometimes you need to put yourself first.”

Paige almost throws herself into Azzi’s arms, catching the dark haired girl off guard for a moment before she gently hugs her back. As if on instinct, her hands go up to start undoing her ponytail, like she used to always do after games. Azzi combs through her hair, gently twisting off the hair tie and murmuring into her ear.

Shoulders shaking, Paige sinks into Azzi’s chest as she finally allows herself to cry. “It’s okay, baby,” Azzi whispers, lips grazing her ear. “I got you.”

It seems like hours that Azzi holds Paige. Eventually, the blonde’s breathing evens out, her sniffling stopping as her breaths become deeper. She thinks Paige is asleep until the older girl turns her head slightly. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

Azzi slings an arm across her waist, breathing her in. The ends of Paige’s hair tickle her cheek, but she doesn’t move. “Do you want me to be?”

Paige’s voice comes out, barely in a whisper. “Yes.”

Azzi drops her head, lips skimming across the older girl’s neck. Paige’s skin is warm, her pulse fluttering under her touch. Azzi tightens her grip on her waist, thumb dipping under her shirt to stroke soft circles on her hipbone. Paige shifts closer. “Then I’ll be here.”

•••

Paige wakes up to tangled sheets and warm hands on her face. She blinks sleepily as her vision sharpens to see Azzi propped over her on one elbow. “How you feeling?” Azzi asks softly, her morning voice scratchy.

Paige reaches up, fingers trailing over Azzi’s hand cupping her cheek. “Better,” she breathes out. She looks over at the alarm clock, groaning. “We still have half an hour.”

Paige flips over onto her belly, resting her head on Azzi’s chest. Azzi grabs her waist, adjusting her so that the older girl is fully on top of her. Her hands go up to stroke Paige’s back, scratching up and down her bare skin with her fingernails. Closing her eyes, Paige listens to the steady beat of Azzi’s heart. “You always smell so good,” she murmurs.

Azzi hums, rubbing her socked foot against Paige’s ankle. Paige has almost drifted off again when fingers gently brush hair out of her face. “We gotta be at breakfast in 10.”

“Don’t wanna get up.” She groans when Azzi takes her hands out from under her shirt, pushing Paige off her softly. Azzi starts to get ready, grabbing clothes to wear from Paige’s duffel without even asking.

Paige sits at the edge of the bed, watching Azzi move around the room. She can almost imagine that they’re back to normal again, going to bed together and waking up together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re the only one that makes me feel like this.”

Azzi pauses for a moment before choosing not to respond. She disappears into the bathroom, reemerging a few seconds later with two toothbrushes. She hands one to Paige. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

Paige grabs the toothbrush and stares at her. “What? It’s true.”

“It’s not gonna help either of us move on,” Azzi says pointedly.

“What if I don’t want to move on?” Paige challenges, following Azzi back to the bathroom.

“There’s no future for us, Paige,” Azzi says harshly, turning around to put a warning hand against Paige’s chest. She closes the door between the two of them as if to reaffirm their boundaries.

“So you’re just gonna come to my hotel room and hold me through the night then get pissed at me for still having feelings for you?” Paige laughs humorlessly, slumping down to sit against the door. “Real classy, Azzi.”

“You needed someone. I couldn’t sit in my room knowing you were suffering.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re making it worse by all this coming and leaving?” Paige blinks back tears. “God, you finally just look at me again and I go fucking crazy.” She scrambles to her feet once she hears the door unlock, and Azzi comes out, her eyes slightly red. “I can’t have just some of you. I need to have all of you or - or none of you.”

The younger girl jerks towards her. “You’re a fucking liar, you know? You said no matter what decision I chose, you would be happy,” she shoots back, voice shaky with anger.

Paige’s eyes cloud over. “How do you know that?”

Azzi hesitated. “The letter you write me- I found it. In the guest room.” As if on instinct, her hands reach for her purse, but she stops herself. It certainly wouldn’t help her case if Paige knew she carried that note with her everywhere she went.

Cursing under her breath, Paige runs a hand through her hair. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Yeah, well.” Azzi takes a deep breath, trying to recollect her thoughts. “I’m asking you to be happy for me, okay? I know it’s a lot. But you’re my best friend. I need you to do this for me.”

“You’re not being fair to me.” Paige’s words catch in her throat. “You know how this makes me feel.”

“I know.” Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. Her thumb finds the tears coating the older girl’s lashes, the dampness of her cheeks, trying to brush them away, trying to brush all their mistakes and their sins and their pain away. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

Paige dips her head down, burrowing it into her shoulder, fingers digging into Azzi’s waist as if holding onto her any tighter will keep her from slipping away from her life. “Okay.” Her voice cracks. Just ten minutes ago, she’d been firmly resolute in her ultimatum - seeing Azzi with other people had hurt too fucking much for her to stand. But now? Paige has always been a people pleaser. Recently she’s been learning to stand her ground, to be okay with letting others be upset. But when it comes to her best friend, who’s pleading with her, eyes wet with grief and hope and a million words unsaid, Paige knows that she doesn’t have it in her to say no. That learning to get over her pain will somehow be doable if it means that it’ll take away just a little bit of Azzi’s . “Okay.”

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconnwbb #pazzi #uconn wbb #wcbb #angst #paige x azzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd

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andvys · 1 day ago

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The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter five

⭐︎ Watching cityscapes turn to dust

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of death, gore, mentions of killing (zombies?), post apocalypse au, grumpy x sunshine

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You find out the truth's of this world, ones you weren't prepared for.

Word count: 5.1k

Author's note: This one is a little emotional... but Steve and Sunshine are finally getting closer. Also @hellfire--cult wrote the whole upside down conversation part and everything that came after, y'all are gonna squeal the way I did when you read a specific part aaaahhh

⭐︎ series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

“See this? Eucalyptus. If we run out of toilet paper, we can use this as a replacement.”

Steve scrunches his nose, staring at the plant that you are picking apart now, gathering the leaves and stuffing them into your bag.

“You’re telling me I can wipe my ass with a plant?” He asks, not sounding convinced of your words.

“A leaf, but yes. It’s non irritating and soft. Koalas not only eat it but use it as such.” You explain without looking back at him, continuing to pick at the plant. You were hoping to find some mulberries or chokeberries out here but instead you stumbled upon this.

Steve nods at your words, a small smile grazes his face, “is there something you don’t know?”

Your braid falls to the side when you turn to face him. In all this time since you have been on the road, he hasn’t seen you with your hair open once, it’s always in a braid or a ponytail but never open.

You give him a sheepish smile and a small shrug, “...math.”

His eyes crinkle when he smiles, a low chuckle falls from his lips, “alright.” He furrows his eyebrows when he sees the amount of leaves you are stuffing into your backpack, “what’re you gonna do with all that?”

You zip the bag and throw the strap over your shoulder again, adjusting the backpack before you bend down to pick up your machete again, shrugging at him, “it can be used for a lot of things! We can put some in the shower for the good smell, we can make some tea with it or use it as a decongestant if someone gets sick.”

Steve nods again, he starts walking beside you, looking down at you with curious eyes. He is impressed by your knowledge. His first impression of you was false, he thought you were a clueless, lost girl, someone doomed to die in a world like this but it turned out that you know more than he thought.

You showed him how to build a water filter from scratch, you know what berries are edible and which are poisonous, you know your way around medicine, you’re fast on your feet and your reactions are quick. He is not so convinced that you are much of a fighter or that those knives strapped to your belt have ever been used for anything other than cutting fruit or opening cans. Your arms seem weak, they shake every time you lift heavy things, he can’t imagine how you have gotten yourself out of certain situations before but you know how to survive, he knows that now too.

“I was hoping to find some berries, we could’ve made jam, we still got a bunch of sugar.” You speak quietly, looking around the trees around you, careful not to miss anything creeping up on the both of you.

“I’m sure we’ll find some soon,” Steve murmurs as he keeps a tight hold on his rifle. He looks up into the sky, noticing the dark clouds. “It’s getting darker earlier now.”

“Yeah,” you sigh with a frown on your face. “I don’t like it, it means that winter is coming.”

“Yeah, hopefully we’ll make it to California sooner rather than later.”

You hum, giving him a skeptic look, shrugging.

That look on your face surprises him, amuses him even, he can’t help but chuckle, “is that pessimism I see on your face, sunshine?”

“Never!” You chuckle and nudge him with your hand. “I’m just being realistic–”

“What every pessimist says ever,” he laughs, shaking his head.

“No, I’m just experienced, Steve! It took me a while to even get here, there’s a lot of things that get in the way, obstacles. Sometimes you gotta do detours, there are a lot of towns and cities you have to avoid, that unfortunately makes the journey longer.”

“How do we know what places to avoid though?” Steve frowns, looking down at you curiously.

“Well, big cities and everything around it, those places were bombed, remember? When the government and the military still thought that they could prevent this from happening… whatever the hell this is.” You mumble, gesturing to some of the rotten plants you’re passing by.

“Right,” Steve mumbles and looks down. He sometimes forgets that you don’t know what caused the end of the world. He hasn’t told you yet, Nancy and Eddie haven’t either.

“It’s dangerous there, they thought they could take out those monsters that way but they only made it worse, cities are crawling with those things, along with infected people.”

He didn’t know. He was stuck in Hawkins since the beginning of the end, he never turned on the radio until you, he never even thought about what happened to the rest of the world, he was stuck in that town, he was busy grieving her.

“How do you know?” He asks, glancing at you.

You continue to look ahead, taking a deep breath before you open your mouth.

“I got myself in deep shit when I took a detour to Washington DC. I ran into a couple who told me about a refugee camp in DC. I should’ve known it was a mistake to change my route and go there but it was only the beginning of everything and I was alone and scared, I wasn’t thinking.”

“What happened?”

You look down as your lips curl downwards, wincing a bit.

“The place was crawling with infected people, it was overrun. I tried to go back, take the same way out and get back on my old route but… I swear it was a blink of an eye moment and those things had me surrounded.”

Steve frowns, his breathing becomes a little shaky as he thinks of the fear you must’ve felt when death was creeping up on you.

“How’d you get out?”

“I had to fight my way out,” you murmur, looking up into his eyes, revealing the mark it left on you as you allow him to look into your eyes. “It was the first time I had to kill sick ones.”

He can see it wasn’t easy on you, it’s written all over your face.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and then it took forever to get out of there. The city was crawling with infected, with monsters, everything. Not to mention that most buildings were falling apart and it wasn’t easy to find places to hide.”

As you continue to tell him how you got out of the city of horror, Steve realizes that you have seen far more than he has. He might’ve been roped into the upside down years ago, he might know more but you have made experiences that he was spared from. That you have encountered things that he can’t even think of.

Shivers ran down his spine when he overheard your conversation with Eddie back in Hawkins, knowing how it could have ended for you makes him feel sick still when he thinks about it.

“I have avoided cities and big towns ever since. The journey is longer that way but safer.”

Steve nods.

“Guess it’ll take a while for us to get to California then.” Steve mumbles, spotting the RV in the distance and the small fire Eddie had made.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be tough with the cold weather but as long as we stock up on everything, we’ll be fine.” You shrug, surprising him with how relaxed you seem about all the things that he feels anxious about.

“Let’s hope we’ll find enough lakes on the way so we can keep filling up our water tank.”

You always make sure that the water tank in the RV is filled so the shower and the toilet can be used but you save up on it as much as you can. Bathing in the lakes is getting more impossible by the second, the water turning colder and colder, but it works for hair washes and quick cleaning on the most needed areas.

“Yeah and let’s hope they won’t be frozen or else we’ll have to use snow and baby wipes to clean up,” you chuckle.

“If there is gonna be any snow,” Steve points out.

“I’m sure there will be, so we better find some warm clothes, you can’t walk around in this leather jacket,” you gesture to his trusted brown jacket. “You’ll freeze to death.”

He shakes his head as he looks down at the flannel you are wearing, “funny coming from you, you’re not even wearing a jacket.”

“This thing is warm!” You argue, tugging your flannel closer to your body.

“Yeah right, that’s why you’re shivering!”

“Am not!”

Eddie looks up at the both of you, grinning a little when he sees how close you two are walking next to each other.

“Don’t you dare say anything right now,” Nancy warns him as she stirs the soup in the pot, giving him a strict look.

Eddie sinks deeper into his camping chair, his eyes flash with amusement when he turns to Nancy, “wasn’t planning on saying anything.”

Nancy knows her friend well, she knew he was going to say something to tease Steve, something that would’ve only made him tense again and she doesn’t want that, not when you two are starting to get along.

“Mhmm sure, Munson.”

Eddie takes another look at the two of you before he leans closer to Nancy, “but he is smiling.”

Nancy tries to be subtle when she looks towards you and Steve. He is grimacing. She has to admit, it’s funny to watch your interactions with him, how you talk his ear off, trying to get him to smile or even laugh – it’s a challenge, he doesn’t smile very often these days, let alone laugh. It’s cute how you keep trying though.

“Don’t mention it to him or he’ll stop.”

Eddie snorts and leans back again, his eyes sparkle and a grin appears on his face when you wave at him.

“Hey, what’d you got there?” He raises his eyebrows at your backpack. “Did you find your berries?”

“No, unfortunately not but we found some eucalyptus!”

“Ah, nature’s toilet paper!” Eddie grins.

Steve raises his eyebrows at him, he stops beside you and places his hands on his hips.

“How’d you know?”

Eddie tilts his head to the side, placing his hand on his chest in offense, “I don’t like that surprised look on your face, Harrington. Why wouldn’t I know?”

Steve shrugs, “maybe because you don’t look like a guy who’s into plants?”

“That’s very offensive considering I used to sell ‘em.”

Nancy snorts and shakes her head.

You straighten your back, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“You sold plants!?” You ask, smiling brightly.

Steve shakes his head, chuckling at the look of enthusiasm on your face, “no, he–”

“Why yes, sweetheart. I sold all the good greens,” Eddie grins.

When Steve and Nancy shake their heads at him again, laughing, and Eddie’s eyes flash with amusement, you realize that you are missing something, an inside joke that you don’t get.

Nancy notices how your head is tilted to the side, your lips curled downwards as your eyebrows knit together.

“Alright,” you shrug, throwing your backpack down and your machete next to it. You plop down on your camping chair, scooting closer to catch the warmth of the fire. The smell of soup filling the air around you, making your stomach grumble in anticipation. “Is that chicken noodle soup?”

“Yeah with fresh chicken and everything,” Eddie nods, watching as Nancy pours you the first bowl.

You give him a deadpan look, eyes flickering back and forth between his and the empty cans of soup in the grass.

He chuckles at you, handing another empty bowl to Nancy.

Steve is still standing, looking around, looking through the trees and over the large field. He is gripping his rifle tightly still.

“Dude, sit down, we’re safe here.” Eddie tells him. “We checked the area, it’s clean.”

You look up at the brunette, noticing the worried look on his face.

“Yeah, it’s safe, you saw for yourself, Steve. The forest is green.”

He nods, though still unsure. He takes another look around before he sits down beside you. A sigh falls from his lips as he takes the rifle off his shoulder, placing it down on the grass.

You’re right, the forest is green, no vines or rotten plants around, no ashes covering the ground. Places like these are usually safe from monsters. Usually. Steve can’t ever rest, no matter how safe they look or feel.

“Here.” Eddie pulls him out of his thoughts, handing him the bowl filled with soup.

“Thanks,” Steve murmurs, giving him a tight lipped smile as he takes it from his hands. He glances at you, your bowl is on your lap, the spoon in your hand as you stir the hot soup. A strand of your hair falls in front of your eye and you try to blow it away but to no avail. His hand itches, fingers twitching. He tears his eyes away from you, looking down at his dinner instead, and he begins to eat in silence.

“Hey,” Eddie nudges his chin at you, eyes flicking back and forth between your face and your machete on the ground.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever actually used that thing?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the side.

Steve watches you from the side, curiously. You look confused, eyebrows furrowed and lips curled downwards.

“Uh, yeah…” You murmur. “Why?”

How could you have survived without it? It would’ve been a miracle if you didn’t have to use it.

Nancy raises her eyebrows at Eddie, she hugs her blanket tighter around her shoulders, sipping the soup from her spoon.

Eddie shrugs. He knows you’ve had to fight at some point, to kill, you wouldn’t have survived for so long if you didn’t. Yet he can’t imagine you lifting that thing to kill something or someone, not because you are weak or incapable, he just thinks that you are soft – too soft to kill, even monsters. You are the type to pull away, to run, to hide, to fight but not to kill.

You look into his brown eyes, trying to find the look of judgment in them but you can’t, just curiosity, nothing more or less.

“Just haven’t seen you use it, that’s all.”

“Yeah and I’m relieved about that, Eddie! It means we avoided danger successfully. I really hate using it.”

Nancy nods at you, smiling.

You’ve been on the road for nearly two weeks and it’s been nothing but a wasteland – empty roads, empty towns, empty houses. Nothing but the ghost of what the world once was. You haven’t come across monsters or infected yet, not even people. It’s almost as if everything disappeared completely but the screeches of the bats at night remind you of the danger still out there. It’s only a matter of time until you run into something or… someone. You got lucky so far but how long will luck stay on your side?

“Well, the same goes to you all,” you shrug. “I haven’t seen you use your axe, Eddie. I also haven’t seen you use that bat, Steve.”

Nancy chuckles when you challenge them both, leaving her out of it.

“Are you doubting my axe wielding skills, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, smiling in amusement.

“Are you doubting me and my machete?” You retort, glaring at him playfully to which Steve chuckles, smiling at the look on your face.

“Hell no,” Eddie shakes his head, “I was just curious! I don’t doubt you at all, I bet there’s a cold blooded killer behind that cute face.” He smirks, winking at you.

Your eyes widen and heat rises to your cheeks as you grow flustered.

Eddie’s eyes fill with pride when he notices your reaction, he can’t help but chuckle softly. He glances at Steve who rolls his eyes.

“What about you, Steve?” Eddie grins. “When was the last time you used your bat?”

Steve shrugs.

As he thinks about it, he realizes that it’s been a long time since it was used. He relied on the axe that Eddie stole from him and the rifle Hopper gave to him on the day he left, on the day they were all supposed to leave. He didn’t even pack the bat then, Robin did. That’s the reason why he took it with him nearly two weeks ago.

“Probably in ‘84.” He mumbles without thinking. “When Dustin and I went looking for Dart after he ate his cat.”

His words sink in slowly and it takes you a moment to fully realize what he just said.

Nancy straightens her back as she notices the line between your eyebrows and the way you slowly put your spoon down into your half empty bowl. She looks at Steve who hasn’t even realized what he just said as he keeps eating his soup.

“‘84?” You mumble, turning your body to face Steve. “What…?”

Steve’s eyes bore into the grass, his forehead puckers, his heart sinks a little.

“A what ate Dustin’s cat!?”

You look bewildered, completely mortified as those images must run through your mind. The situation is not funny at all but the look on your face is and Eddie can’t help but chuckle, something that earns him a punch to his arm from the girl beside him.

Nancy glares at him.

“Goddamn, woman,” Eddie hisses at her, rubbing his arm.

Steve can feel your eyes on him, your intense stare. He slowly looks up, turning towards you.

They haven’t told you anything, you are just as clueless as the rest of the world is or what remains of it. To you, the world just flipped over. A mysterious virus wiped out more than half of the earth’s population. The sickness spread and people started turning into monsters. Monsters crawled out of hell or fell from the sky as many believed. He remembers all the things said about the upside down creatures, he remembers how some called them demons while others called them aliens.

They didn’t mean to hide it from you, to hold back the truth. The conversation never came up and they also didn’t know how to explain it all to you without sounding like they had gone insane.

Where would they even start?

Would you even believe them?

“Uh…” Steve panics a bit, turning to face Eddie, looking at him for help but the metalhead only shrugs at him. He glances at Nancy who seems to enjoy his struggle. She shrugs at him too, giving him a look that says ‘go ahead’.

He hates this and even more so, he hates the smug looks on his friends’ faces.

For a moment it’s quiet, nothing but the crackling of the fire filling the space.

“What do you mean?” Your voice pulls his attention back on you. Your eyes are filled with confusion, your lips slightly parted.

Steve takes a deep breath.

He knew this conversation was going to happen sooner or later, he just didn’t think that he would have to be the one to explain this world to you. He is not good at these things.

With a sigh he leans down, placing the bowl on the grass before he leans back again, turning his body towards you.

Where does he even begin?

He clears his throat, glaring at Eddie when he cackles.

“I uh… listen, what I’m about to tell you is gonna sound… crazy.”

“Can’t get crazier than this,” you chuckle nervously.

Steve smiles a little, taking another deep breath.

“Well, this has been going on for longer than you think.”

You narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head a little.

“I’m not following…”

Steve runs his fingers through his hair, he looks back and forth between your eyes and the fire, unable to find the right words.

“The uh…” He pauses, clenching his jaw. “Fuck…” He whispers.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs loudly. “You’re the worst storyteller ever, dude!”

“Well, why don’t you tell her, Munson!?” Steve snaps in frustration, huffing loudly.

“I might be the master of story telling thanks to being a Dungeon Master… but I wasn’t in this shit from the very beginning.” Eddie says with another shrug and a cocky smile on his face which makes Steve sigh and roll his eyes. Your attention goes back to the brunette, your head tilted, ready to listen.

“There… There’s another dimension.” Steve starts and Nancy now knows it’s gonna be a long story, looking down at her bowl and continuing eating.

“Another dimension? Like a parallel universe or something?” You ask and Steve scrunches up his nose.

“Not exactly. It’s this world but a more… devastated version. What you saw back in Hawkins, it’s not as bad as it is in that dimension.” You were getting lost now, his words not making any sense and he noticed it in your face. “This started back in 1983…”

You listened.

For the first time in weeks, you sat there without any words coming out of your mouth except for a few questions, letting Steve talk. Nancy gave her input every now and then. They told you everything… from beginning to end. How one of the teens got taken away, how one of them was an experiment, how the others solved the mystery, how the government was involved, then–

“Wait… so… the Russians… they did what to you?” You ask and Steve clears his throat, looking at you.

“Kidnapped me and Robin, almost beat me to death and then they drugged us, thinking we would spill the beans or something.” He chuckles and your eyes were just glued on him, a worried frown in your eyebrows. His laugh ceased as he looked at you completely confused. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

He blinked a few times at that. It’s something that had happened years ago, back in 1985… Robin was one of the only people who asked. Dustin… then everyone saw him and the one thing that they asked was ‘what happened?’. You, years later, when his bruises are no longer there, maybe a scar on his lip from it that is barely visible… you ask him if he’s okay. He doesn’t know how to answer, completely taken aback by your question. Eddie notices, clearing his throat, which makes you turn your head at him.

“He is perfectly fine as you can see. Annoyingly so.” He comments and Steve is a little grateful for your attention, for your care, to no longer be directed at him. He cracks his neck a bit, not noticing the eyes of the other girl sitting in the circle, who is holding back a smile.

“So… After that, we came to find out so many other things… one in particular was that this whole thing, this whole… dimension, not only was opened by El, but another person got sucked in it… A dangerous person.” Your eyes went back to Steve as he continued his explanation.

You couldn’t believe this was all done by a single entity, a thing that was once human, a monster that was once a child. He explained how the gates worked, how the craters were created and then… your eyes landed on Eddie as Steve told you about the final battle.

“We thought we hadn’t killed him… but then– El told us he was dead. She could see him dying in his mind… but he didn’t leave without a parting gift.” Eddie states as he looks at his arms, seeing the scars and then back at you. “With the craters open, he gave one last order.”

“What was that?” You ask and Steve clears his throat, your attention back to him.

“To take over this side. To bring the Upside Down… up.”

You didn’t know how to react now. Your eyes drifted to the floor. They have been in this war for so long. For years. Kids. Fucking kids were involved in this and you just felt anger. Good people were involved in something that should have been dealt with by adults. The people who died, they recounted each one of them, but your eyes were on Nancy, who was looking at the horizon, as if absent minded.

She lost her best friend to this monster… and her father.

Steve lost his soulmate… Eddie almost lost his own life… They all almost died at some point and– it was hard to imagine that while they were suffering like this, when they were fighting and getting beaten up… you were picking up sunflowers with your parents. You were off partying. You were out with friends or going to concerts.

It felt unfair. You feel so guilty for some reason. You feel guilty for having had the time to be a proper teenager. To have a proper childhood. To have a family while theirs started to break apart slowly. The scars they all have, on their skin, on their minds, on their hearts… you don’t think you will ever comprehend. You won’t ever understand that pain.

“Sweetheart…” You heard Eddie calling you, but you were still shocked, the information dawning on you, and then– you flinched slightly when a thumb grazed your cheek, making you look to the side to see Steve, worriedly looking at you as he wiped something off your face.

“You don’t need to cry…” He softly spoke to you and… cry? You shook your head to get out of your shock, at least a bit, and you raised your hand to touch your right cheek and– You were crying. Tears fell down your eyes and you didn’t even notice it. Your heart felt as if someone was crushing it in their bare hands and your stomach was in a tight knot as Steve’s words kept replaying in your head.

“How… How can I not cry?” Your reaction was not something they expected. They expected you to yell in fear, or to appear nervous, or to be at least a bit skeptical of their story… but you were crying. Eddie’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, your eyes finding his.

“Why? We’re here… we’re alive.” He says with a soft smile, but you shake your head, the lump in your throat bigger than ever.

“Your lives were ripped away from you… normal lives… Your friends… family– How can I not cry?” And it dawned on them. They haven’t thought of it that way, not once they stopped and regretted or wished for things to be different. But now, the thoughts linger… if the upside down never happened, or they never interfered… where would they be right now?

“It… it made us who we are now.” Nancy tries talking, not wanting to show how her voice started to break. Your tears kept coming down as you tried to nod, yet it didn’t erase the sadness. It didn’t erase how bad you felt.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry this happened to all of you…” Your eyes fell on Steve. His eyes were red as well as the other two people in the circle. Soon, you weren’t the only one shedding tears. They all sat, looking at the fire in the middle, letting the world sink in. Letting their story be heard by themselves this time.

“Wow, sweets… thought we were done crying over this but damn, you come along and break the fucking dam.” Eddie jokes as he wipes his tears away, a wet chuckle escaping him and Nancy barely smiles, wiping her own tears, sniffling. You looked at him, a small smile on your lips as you saw him trying to diffuse the tension.

“We can’t afford to cry, we have to save our water and our hydration.” She says as joke, which makes you and Eddie chuckle. Your eyes turned to the one person who was still silent, looking at the firepit. Your smile fell a bit and you hesitantly raised your hand up and you returned his gesture. You wiped the stray tear that fell down his cheek but he didn’t flinch away from you. He wasn’t startled.

Steve looked at you as you retreated your hand back to your lap. He gave a few blink as he gulped the lump that formed in his throat. You were a nuisance. He knew that. You were making him have emotions he thought he was better without, and now…

“Thank you.” He softly spoke, and you gave him a small smile in answer. He reciprocates the gesture, the sadness slowly leaving his body as warmth fills his body once more. It was better to blame the fire for that.

He wanted to hate you for what you were doing to him. But he couldn’t help but thank you… because having these feelings, these emotions, reminded him of who he once was. With Dustin. With the other teens. With Robin. He’s once again vulnerable, but being able to laugh with Eddie, with Nancy… and you… He doesn’t want to lose that again.

“Don’t want to break the cute and intimate moment, but the chicken soup– I think it was fucking expired–” And all of your eyes widened as the loudest thing was heard through the field. Eddie’s face reddened as he cleared his throat. “That– I bet it was a demogorgon.”

The first to break was Steve. He laughed loudly, cackled, grabbing his belly as his face reddened from the strain of his laughter. Eddie had just let out a huge fart that echoed against the very far trees. You instantly followed as well as Nancy, all of you almost falling off the chair as Eddie scrambled up, rushing to get toilet paper inside the RV.

“IT’S NOT GONNA BE FUNNY WHEN IT HAPPENS TO THE THREE OF YOU!” You all heard him yell as now tears of laughter and joy escaped your eyes, your head hurting a bit from how hard you were laughing, pretty sure Steve was in the same or worse situation as you were because his was the loudest.

You all saw Eddie rush out with the small shovel and the toilet paper, running towards the woods, and your eyes caught on Steve. It was the first time you saw all of his teeth. His mouth wide with laughter, his eyes clenched, his hand on his belly as he complained it was hurting. Nancy’s own laughter was like a background noise, the volume was low on her, while Steve’s was on high.

You hoped to see him like this more often. He looked… good like this.

He looks good when he is happy.

☀︎

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

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liliesdiary · 2 days ago

Text

➢Body Of A Porn Star

SYNOPSIS → After a long day of stalking you, his Valentine—Ghostface captures the infamous porn star, Soft Angel, and you're going to be the star of his porno.

PART ONE → Face Of An Angel

WORDS → (3.4k words)

CONTENT WARNING: 18+ ONLY → this porno contains mature themes, graphic content, and disturbing imagery. Viewer deception is strongly advised. Specific warnings include › pornstar!reader, dubcon, yandere!ghostface, blackmail, power play, porn addict!ghostface, porn mentioned, obsessive!ghostface, love struck!ghostface, hyperfem!reader, soft angel porn name, obsessive thoughts, face fucking, knife play, violent threats, voyeurism, ownership obsession, possessive!ghostface, yandere themes, forced porno!

AUTHOR’S NOTE → enjoy the porno my perverted angels <3 @babysbreathbabes @tooloudarts @dollfacemay @love-me-satoru @smoooth-buttercup @taylormarieee @loveryoushouldcomeoverr

「 🖱️CLICK TO PRESS PLAY 🖱️ 」

꧁ᬊᬁ LOVESICK ANONYMOUS ᬊ᭄꧂

"You look so dolled up for me, angel. The face of an angel and the body of a porn star."

Your heartbeat pounds like a dove trying to escape her cage once again as you read that message. Your eyes scanned around the room, searching for the masked man.

Your cunt started to throb once again, drenching those delicate pink panties that he so adores when you wear them during your livestreams.

꧁ᬊᬁ LOVESICK ANONYMOUS ᬊ᭄꧂

“Are those pink panties meant just for me, my doll?”

His text arrives, each word laced with a seductive intoxication that wraps around your pretty body.

Your eyes look down at your phone once again, reading the pink glowing screen that shows more messages from him. He wouldn't stop messaging you. It was valentine's day and he wanted to slowly consume you.

꧁ᬊᬁ LOVESICK ANONYMOUS ᬊ᭄꧂

“I think we can have some fun today, doll. I fantasized about you all night long. Let's do something special today, something that I've been thinking about for months.”

Your heart stops as you think about the vile things he could have planned for you, yet your cunt yet you couldn't deny that the thought of being his trapped victim once again excited you as much as it scared you.

You kept choosing to not respond, pissing him off and making him lose his patience. You put your phone back in the pocket of your short skirt. You tried to concentrate on the boring lecture but messages overflowed the screen of your laptop, love sick threats and confessions from him.

He was like a fucking virus, a lovestruck ghost that kept haunting you. The lovesick attention made your heart throb, maybe this was just real romance.

Your gaze wanders once more as you hear a gentle knock on the classroom door. A student enters, carrying a stack of anonymous love letters in celebration of Valentine's Day. You find yourself holding your breath as the student approaches, their smile widening at the sight of the numerous letters you have received. An overwhelming wave of surprise washes over you—your lovesick admirer has penned an astonishing number of letters for you. Your cheeks flush with warmth as the chatter of your classmates fills the air, all gossiping about the amount you received.

"Wow, you must have a stalker," the student who delivered the letters quips, their tone lighthearted. You respond with a soft, feigned laugh that betrays a deeper sense of anxiety lurking beneath the surface.

You open your lovesick letters one by one, reading the obsessive writing. The pink letters were filled with rape threats, heartfelt love confessions and numerous of photos of your sleeping pretty face at night. It felt like he had twisted a knife in you once again.

You feel violated as you look at the photos of him in that infamous mask, that same mask he wore when he violated you and murdered your friends. In the photos, he posed next to your sleeping face, pulling your hair and forcing you to take a selfie as you lay unconscious.

But the next photo made you feel sick to your stomach, a picture of him holding his big cock against your sleeping face, the pink tip of his cock kissing your slightly parted plump lips.

You feel completely violated as you feel your body freeze. Why did your heart flutter at that? The thought of his dick being that close to your lips, the haunting reality of his invasion during the night, sends shivers through your heart, both trembling and fluttering in confusion.

Your eyes gaze upon one of his love letters and you read the bone chilling words.

“From the moment I stabbed you with my knife was the moment I knew that I wanted those pretty pathetic eyes to be mine. I stained your pretty body and I let you go. I couldn't seem to get you off my mind after that moment. I watched you from that very moment and stained you ever since.

You're my little trapped dove, you entered my cage the moment you started your little porn blog. That only fueled my obsession with you, I've been in your walls ever since. I've been watching you everyday, spoiling my little angel with gifts and money.

I want to film you. I want to hurt you. I want to love you. I want to hear you scream. I just want to make you mine. Keep being a good little slut for me like you've always been, and maybe I won't mutilate you by the time I'm done with you, soft angel. Love, your lovesick anonymous.”

Your face goes pale as your soft eyes tremble, you feel trapped as you read the letter. He had completely owned you. He always had.

The lecture is over and you're glued to your seat, your eyes trembling as you feel like a prey waiting to be mauled if you go back to your dorm room.

As you exit the classroom, an unsettling sensation washes over you; his predatory aura seems to envelop you once more, relentlessly pursuing your every step. You can’t shake the feeling of being his helpless prey, hunted by a relentless predator. Your legs quiver as you fasten your pace, the delicate pink heels of your shoes trembling with each hurried step.

You feel paranoid, your wide eyes trembling as you see someone hunting you down in the crowd of people. You try to get someone's attention but no one looks at you.

Your heart races uncontrollably as you catch sight of him, donning that mask—the very mask that has haunted your dreams—drawing closer with each passing moment as you sprint back toward your dorm room.

You reached your building and it was completely empty, everyone else was occupied with their classes. A surge of fear coursed through you as he pursued you to the room, seizing your hair with a rough grip and overpowering you as he secured the door behind you. Painful memories surged forth, causing your breath to quicken as he pinned you down.

It was him. It was him with a knife pressed against your throat, he compelled you into a kiss that was both sweet and long overdue. You whimpered, instinctively attempting to resist him, your teeth grazing his lip, but he retaliated with a fiercer bite. His obsession was palpable; he raised his mask slightly, forcing his tongue into your mouth, groaning at the taste of your soft tongue. The sensation was overwhelming, leaving you feeling violated and powerless.

He then pulls away from your soft trembling body, “Happy Valentine's Day, my doll."

He found himself unable to pull his hands away from your trembling form, the scent of your fear intoxicating him. For what felt like an eternity, he had obsessively yearned for you. His gloved hands tightened around you, a clear indication that he had no intention of releasing you.

He was determined to compel you to love him, to cherish the way he violently yearned for you. His desire was to possess you, to leave an indelible mark upon you.

You tremble and feel the urge to run away but you can't move your body. The sight of him with that same exact knife that took your friend's life, it made you sick to your stomach.

He reveled in your broken expression, akin to a deer caught in the headlights, and seized you roughly, drawing you closer. In a low, intimate whisper, he remarked, “You truly live up to your name when you tremble like that, soft angel.” With a sinister grace, he traced the razor-sharp blade—the same one that had inflicted pain upon you long ago—along your cleavage.

Your body quivered under his touch, reduced to a mere plaything in his hands, as he manipulated you like a lifeless doll.

“N-No! Stop!” You screamed but your voice was muffled against his rough hand. He lets out a sadistic chuckle as he looks at your old scar, the one he created. You had attempted to cover it up with the soft angel tattoo, which made him extremely jealous.

He then pressed the knife against your skin, locking his gaze with yours as he etched his mark upon your soft angel tattoo. Once again, he branded you, tainting your body anew. Painful memories surged, leaving you feeling utterly defeated as you collapsed into his awaiting arms once more.

He had carved his name into you, the brand on your infamous tattoo, replacing your identity. You felt completely owned by him. He then bent down and overwhelmed you with his perverted hands as he manhandled you into the bed. You feel the blood dripping down your body as he lays you down on the bed.

With a subtle lift of his mask, he revealed his lips to you, crashing them against yours with a fervor that claimed your mouth as his own. “You belong to me.” he repeated, his grip tightening around your throat while his lips wandered across your soft body.

“You look so pretty to me, doll. Such a good little doll for me, making me feel fucking lovesick for you.” He said with his predatory voice, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands roamed around your doll-like outfit, he feels a sense of ownership as he sees the outfit you put on specifically for him.

He then raised his sharp knife to your pretty face and threatened you, “Now be a good porn star and sit on your chair, or I'll stab you again.”

You quickly sit on your pink streaming chair trembling at his threat. He was so sweet to you.

You tremble as you wait for his next command. He goes on your computer and clicks on your porn blog, thousands of people already lining up in your live queue that he set up an hour before.

He looks at you, “My sweet angel, put your hands behind your back, let's give your fans a well deserved Valentine's gift.” He said as he tied your pretty body to the chair, binding you and completely restraining your naked body.

You were extremely vulnerable with him, your wet holes exposed to him and the ready webcam in front of you.

The pink restraints and ropes traveled along your bambi body, your body helpless as your predator’s eyes roamed around your blood stained body. His hands tied your weak ankles covered in the dripping blood to your chair, making sure you can't escape him.

“I've always fantasized about this very moment, the moment where I have my little angel trapped and vulnerable, easier to violate and break.”

Your eyes tremble as you look up at him as you finally speak, “Please be gentle, Mr Ghostface.”

He lets out a dark chuckle and caresses your glossy lips, “I'll be gentle as long as you're a good doll for me.”

Before he gags you, he gives you a rough passionate kiss, ruining your lipgloss as he claimed you. He pulled your infamous pink mask over your face, hiding your identity as you were both wearing infamous masks. He stared into your eyes so sweetly, caressing your masked face as he took time to cherish this long awaited moment.

“Are you ready, soft angel?”

「 Press Start 」

“Happy Valentine's Day” He says darkly as the chat starts to load. He forces you to face the webcam, spinning the chair and forcing your mouth open with a spider gag.

The chat was excited to see you violated on camera by who they assumed was just a porn actor. He groped your perfect round tits as he watched people join the live. What the chat didn't expect to see was the infamous Ghostface on their screen along with their tied up angel.

➢ [◉°] LIVE | ꧁ᬊᬁ ᴀɴɢᴇʟᬊ᭄꧂ ANGELSOFTPORN.COM [ ▸ 58.8k LIVE VIEWERS ]

➢ [◉°] [ ▸ 58.8k LIVE VIEWERS ]

LIVE CHAT ▶SLOWED

♡ ︎ ChristianJay44 » you look so pretty tied up

♡ ︎ taintbj » soft angel has her first guest?

♡ ︎ icky_brat » ghostface??

♡ ︎ martindilf » I see you've got a Valentine.

♡ ︎SoftLover » is she bleeding?

♡ ︎maxxdirector » is ghostface going to make her his next stabbing victim? i'm looking forward to that

♡ ︎Brat_Tamer » fucking slut

♡ ︎psychokiller88 » pathetic little angel, getting fucked by a serial killer?

The chat erupted with excitement, thousands flocking to witness your first guest, the notorious serial killer. Your face flushed a deep pink, mirroring the hue of your mask. A wave of shame washed over you as you felt utterly exposed, the audience bearing witness to their infamous porn star, the soft angel, surrendering her virginity to a psychopath.

Everyone thought you were truly pathetic yet they couldn't stop watching. You were gagged and forced to stare at the camera, your wide heart eyes making the chat fall in love with your Valentine's gift for them.

The mask man behind you caressed your tied up body as you trembled in your seat. He traced the pink ropes with the tip of his sharp knife causing your body to flinch with each sharp touch. It felt so fucking thrilling for you. His trapped little angel at his mercy, broadcasted on your soft porn blog.

With his dark guttural voice he spoke to your fans, “Welcome to the stream everyone, doesn't our soft angel look so pretty today? Doesn't she have the body of a porn star?”

He then roughly pulled your hair, “Today I have planned a beloved valentine's gift for her fans.”

Your chat flooded with mixed reactions, some of your loyal admirers felt a twinge of jealousy, while others were undeniably captivated, their sweet donations pouring in relentlessly.

You gaze up at him with wide, trembling eyes, silently pleading for gentleness as he asserts his claim over your body, yet his firm grip on your hair instills a sense of fear. He perceives your quivering state, a smirk playing beneath his mask—a mask you utterly despise. “It’s alright, my sweet doll. I promise to be gentle, just continue to look lovely for the camera,” He says, fixing your pink ribbons in your nicely done braids that he'll use as handles.

He gently tilted your head slightly towards the camera, positioning you perfectly to be his plaything, making you look like his doll for the camera. Your mouth was forced open with the gag, you were reduced to a sex doll for him, and you loved it.

His member was large and veined, the tip brushing against your full lips. You were angelic, your eyes gently yielding to your captor, a submissive look that stirred his obsession even more deeply within him.

Your pretty pink blow job lips stretched obscenely around his thick cock, tears leaking from your eyes as he forced himself deeper, using your mouth like a cheap fuck toy. your tongue feels repulsed as you let the man who killed your friends use you like this, yet your cunt couldn't stop throbbing at the sweet way he treated you.

He used your head gently, gripping it possessively as he fucked your soft throat. He fantasized about this moment for so long, his fantasies could never truly compare to reality though. He felt so pleased as he used you like this, he thought you were so fucking pathetic, but you were his pathetic little angel.

You were completely helpless, your mouth forced open as he used you so sweetly in front of thousands. He caressed your cunt gently, his arousal growing as he felt how drenched you are. He gripped your hair and leaned in, his dark sinister voice sending a cold chill down your delicate spine, “You’re so fucking wet, you're enjoying this so much.”

And fuck, he was right. You were enjoying this so much. Your face was flustered as you were broadcasted live, showing everyone how much of a slut you were. You glanced at your screen and saw the amount of people watching the live, your glass heart shattered.

➢ [◉°] LIVE | ꧁ᬊᬁ ᴀɴɢᴇʟᬊ᭄꧂ ANGELSOFTPORN.COM [ ▸ 89.8k LIVE VIEWERS ]

──── ୨୧ ────

LIVE CHAT ▶SLOWED

♡ Oldperv » overfill her mouth with cum

♡ Fauxxx4 » she's a fucking slut, look at the way she's enjoying this

♡ Dsxirex » fuckkk

♡ Bunnny25 » never take that gag off of her

♡ Wolfsbane » the hottest thing I've ever watched

♡ LittleAngel33 » she looks so helpless

♡ Red lights_728 » fucking pathetic

♡ Sluttyporn » fuck her mouth harder

The masked man saw the amount of people watching your live and let out a dark chuckle, tightening his grip on your braided hair as he fucked your mouth, “How do you feel about thousands of your fans watching me fuck your pretty mouth?”

Your heart trembles as you stare at the webcam like a helpless victim. The amount of people watching you being defiled by your attacker made your heart shatter. Your wide trembling eyes only made him fuck your mouth harder. “You have no idea how much I love your pretty eyes, you look like an angel when they tremble like that.”

He then violently gripped your aching throat and forced his cock deeper into your pretty mouth. You let out a loud gag that made your face flushed under your mask. You whimper around his cock as he obsessively thrusted into your mouth. He'd been craving your mouth for so long, the feeling of being inside of you made his heart beat violently over you. He loved the way you couldn't resist his cock, he could feel your tongue wrapping around his cock trying to pleasure him as he assaulted your mouth, it made him fall in love with how pathetic you were.

His dark obsessive eyes beneath that mask made you sick. You hated how he knew how pathetic you were for him. You belonged to him, even if you denied it, your body could never forget his stain on you.

He then quickly grabbed his knife and held it to your soft throat, “You belong to me.”

He was insane and consumed with obsession, fucking your forced open mouth with increasing intensity. He made sure to get you on camera, gagging and struggling to take his big cock as your plump lips wrapped around his cock.

Your delicate glass heart raced as he humiliated you before thousands of your viewers. Tears threatened to spill from your trembling eyes, for he was not as gentle as he had promised; yet, he tenderly wiped them away, leaving your heart in a tumult of conflicting emotions. You looked like a broken little dove and he reveled in that.

The way he gently caressed your masked face as he violated you made your heart flutter, you felt so filthy for loving the way he violated you. You could feel your heart racing faster with each violent thrust, you could feel your cunt matching its rhythm.

He could feel the way your filthy body is reacting to your defilement, he could tell that you were enjoying this. He lets out a dark psychotic chuckle, “Did I break you already, pretty little dove?”

He then started to roughly rub his boot into your drenched cunt, making you drool on his cock more as he obsessively desired to defile your angelic body even more.

“You're enjoying this so much. I think I'm falling deeper in love with you.”

With one last violent thrust, he overfilled your pretty mouth with his cum, staining your lips and forcing you to open your mouth to the fans.

➢ [◉°] LIVE | ꧁ᬊᬁ ᴀɴɢᴇʟᬊ᭄꧂ ANGELSOFTPORN.COM [ ▸ 93.5k LIVE VIEWERS ]

──── ୨୧ ────

LIVE CHAT ▶SLOWED

♡ Drugged Brat » fuck..her mouth is overfilling with cum

♡ Mollymydrinnk » fucking cumslut

♡ Tamer61 » never stop

♡ Anonymous_Reaper » she was born to be used like that

♡ Yourstalker » make her cry more

♡ daddyslittleslut » she's so pretty when she cries

♡ Chainedx91 » fuck her overfilling mouth

♡ DerrangedIndividual » getting fucked by a serial killer in front of thousands, the perfect valentine's date

You force yourself to swallow as he commanded you to, he read the comments out loud to you and chuckled at the way your fans degraded you. You fucking hated his deep chuckle, it always filled you with a blood curling fear.

“How does it feel to be watched and defiled like this? Does it feel humiliating?” He said so cruelly.

Of course it felt fucking humiliating. You felt so exposed and vulnerable as thousands witnessed and masturbated to your defilement. Tears threatened to spill, yet his tender caress against your lips ignited a flutter in your heart once more. He was both gentle and arousingly cruel to you.

“Shh..it's okay, my delicate angel.” He said as he took the tight gag off of you, your jaw felt so relieved as you could finally close your mouth.

He then repositioned you onto the bed as your delicate body trembled. He groped your body pervertedly, the camera capturing every moment. He kept whispering into your ear and praising you, making you flinch as he kept touching your reopened scar.

His hands and eyes could never leave the bleeding scar he inflicted upon you, it was like he was proud of himself but ruining your soft skin once again. He was like a man starved for your defilement.

He then hastily tore away your pink panties, the ones he had admired for such a long time. Setting them aside, he intended to take them later. With a roughness that made you whimper, he forcefully spread your legs apart.

"You’re a virgin, aren’t you, sweet angel?" he said, his grip on your jaw firm as he compelled you to meet his masked gaze. You hesitated for a moment, then nodded obediently, fear keeping you from uttering a falsehood.

With a sinister smile hidden beneath his mask, “Let me violate you and finally claim your body then.”

[Let Him Pop Your Cherry?]

「 YES 」 OR 「 NO 」

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kira-sucks-lawlipops · 2 days ago

Photo

I used to work the front reception desk at a hospital that charged exorbitantly for patient and visitor parking. This was an undercover parking lot with a boomgate at the exit, not street parking as in the video above. It cost $13 an hour, for everyone at all times of the day with no exceptions.

Want to wait for a loved one who will be in surgery all day? That'll be a hundred bucks. Come here twice a week for dialysis? Another hundred, but every week for the rest of your life. The real kicker was that it never reset or expired. We had people who came into the emergency room, ended up getting admitted into a ward, and didn't think to do anything about their car sitting in the parking lot for days on end, racking up hour after hour of fees. Then when they finally got discharged, they'd call us from the garage in tears because the ticket machine was telling them they needed to pay thousands of dollars just to go home.

There was one loophole to this. If a ticket malfunctioned at the boomgate, we could press an override button to open it manually. This was for "emergencies only", so we couldn't do anything from the ticket machine, and we couldn't trigger it without receiving a call from the boomgate.

For five years, anytime anyone asked me any sort of question about parking, I would tell them to ignore the ticket machine entirely, go directly to the boomgate and press the 'assisance' button. And then I would let them out of the parking lot.

I probably cost the hospital more than my salary in parking fees.

Why did I do this? Was it out of selfless love for my fellow human beings? A deeply-seated belief that charging people for being sick is evil? A desire to fight the man in whatever small way I could?

Not really.

Don't get me wrong, those things did apply. I think parking fees at hospitals are evil and should be abolished. But my strongest motivator for always letting people out of the parking lot was because that was the easiest way to solve the problem.

Basically the entire time I worked at that hospital I was always 1) too busy 2) too exhausted and 3) not paid enough to care about dealing with the parking lot. The tickets were buggy, the machine was always malfunctioning and the system was exploitative. Why would I ever make that my priority when I had access to a magic button that instantly made the problem go away?

Now pay attention class. Why have I told you this story?

Because it applies to 90% of people whose job it is to monitor parking lots.

I cannot count how many times I've been in some shopping mall or convention centre or whatever, stuck a ticket into a machine and decided that actually I don't want to pay that much for parking here today. So I just drove to the boomgate and pressed the button to call for help and then was allowed to leave for free. All you have to do is say that you already paid at the machine but now the gate isn't reading your ticket correctly. The person who has to resolve that problem for you will almost always choose to hand you a 'get out of parking jail free' card rather than actually try to deal with it.

The only time I've ever gotten challenged was one guy who told me to reverse and come into the parking office (lol no), but I couldn't recerse because there were other cars behind me so he had to let me go. If you are not one for lying just crumple the ticket up a bit or scratch out part of the barcode. Don't say you lost it (some places charge at the boomgate for lost tickets), say the machine can't read it and then say hello to free parking for life.

May 31 2016 - Collin Kennedy, who is a cancer patient, used expanding spray foam to disable a parking meter at the Health Sciences Centre in Winnipeg where he gets his treatment. He says the fees are a tax on the sick. [video]

#personal #my posts #enjoying my free parking hack children #go forth and steal from hospitals

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 2 days ago

Note

pez dispenser debris for the fic ask thing? 👀

As much as this is my “kill no darlings you will get EVERY flashback” fic, there’s overarching sociopolitical backstory explaining why Izuku and the rest of class 3A exploded in the public eye that I don’t think I’ll ever fully fit in.

It’s a combination of it being more of a meta analysis than anything and also requiring information from a perspective that I know will never appear in the fic. Like, the fic still gets the different moments that make up this analysis, but there’s no explicit connecting thread to show how they all locked together to create this sort of global cult following of class 3-A. I almost put in a little fake news article opinion piece that was meant to sort of walk the reader through why society is Like This, but I decided it was too heavy handed and deleted it.

Everything that I’m going to reference has already appeared in pez dispenser debris to some degree, and none of it will ever actually materially impact the plot. They may receive a little more detail down the line if they’re mentioned in passing in the fic, so out of an abundance of caution, I’ll stick it below the cut so people can avoid this, but I don’t personally consider any of this spoilers.

Izuku and the rest of the class are famous in pez dispenser debris in a way that’s pretty much unprecedented for students. Canonically, not even all might had a name for himself until after his graduation. Pretty much everyone from class 3A are public figures, with Izuku specifically being considered a major global figure.

In my mind, there was this perfect storm right during their second year that catapulted them into fame. The class personally has varying levels of awareness of why they got so popular, but there was this perfect cross winds of societal unrest and fear that made them household names.

There was an approximately one month span in their second year where they were just hit one after another with a major firestorms of events: The UA Sports Festival, the Sidekick Strike, and the Tartarus Prison Break/Desertion of Yokohama.

The UA Sports Festival is the one that the kids attribute this most to, because so many of the news articles that followed referenced their performance in it. But it probably gave them less mileage than what the other two events did.

What the UA Sports Festival did was showcase their skills to the world in a venue designed to show them off. The public was already on edge. All Might had retired, crime rates kept going up, and people were rapidly losing confidence in existing heroes. Class 2A made such an insane showing of skill in the second Sports Festival that it made the public rave about them for weeks after. It was extremely reassuring to Japan that they had such powerful heroes in the barrel and would soon be on the streets. But that attention probably would have died down had it not been for the Sidekick Strike and Yokohama.

The Sidekick Strike actually had nothing to do with them. But it undermined the public’s faith in heroes at just the right time.

The Sidekick Strike is just one of those things that I have no POV that would even tangentially be involved in it so we’ll get a few passing references in media clips and it’ll never be discussed in depth. Which is a shame because it’s such an interesting conflict to me.

The Sidekick Strike was heavily inspired by the 1919 Boston Police Strike. Effectively, it was the height of the labor rights movement, and police officers got together and went on strike to get the police union recognized. They had tried to negotiate and negotiations failed, and so they all walked off the job. The city descended into lawlessness, the national guard was deployed, it was a whole thing. Famously, Calvin Coolidge fired the entire police force over it on the grounds that there was no striking from public safety.

I thought it would be really interesting if there was something similar that happened with the sidekicks. The thing is that the heroics structure as it stands really incentivizes abuse towards sidekicks. We have a society where there’s a decent amount of heroes who are only in it for the fame. A not insignificant amount of money must come from marketing deals. And it’s a ranked system, so they’re all in competition with each other.

Heroes wouldn’t be incentivized to showcase their sidekicks—they’d be incentivized to take advantage of them and take credit for their work.

Like, think about the work-study experiences. Momo didn’t even officially work for the hero she studied with. She wasn’t getting paid. An adult woman used her for a shampoo ad. Who wants to bet whether Momo saw a dime from it? It’s probably very predatory because the nature of the system incentivizes predation.

I thought the underlying legal issues would be interesting and complex. Who owns a sidekick’s image—the agency or the individual? Who gets the proceeds of their brand deals? This all would be governed by their employment contracts, and sidekicks just starting out have very little leverage compared to big name heroes. And those heroes would want to keep their sidekicks names small and theirs big. The rankings are competitive, after all.

It’s a situation where I do think that like. The sidekicks would have a point in unionizing. The use of their image, appropriate compensation, and proper credit for their busts would all be like, very legitimate concerns in a normal employment context.

I see agencies like Idaten settling immediately with the union and having their sidekicks back on the street before the day is out. In my mind, idaten is considered the gold standard for sidekick jobs already, and their employees mostly did it out of solidarity with the people they worked alongside of. Like, Idaten was already doing most of the union’s demands and signed off very quickly on the remaining ones. If it was just about the Idaten sidekicks, none of them would have gone on strike, but they had a lot of colleagues who they depended on in the field who were in terrible situations. What were they gonna say, sorry, sucks to be you, I got a great gig though so condolences? These were the people keeping them alive. They went on strike because they knew Idaten would publicly settle before the day was out and set an example for the rest of the agencies. Hopefully it would help other agencies follow their lead.

But that didn’t happen. Some agencies, like Endeavor’s, fired everyone immediately. And I think a lot of agencies spent a long time picking over every line item in prolonged negotiations. It dragged out.

And that went over fucking terribly.

All Might just retired. Crime is up. And their sworn defenders are bickering over who gets what cut of the action figure line. Like I think the public would have fucking hated this in a post-All Might world. It would have seemed like the only real hero just medically and irreversibly retired and the rest of them are squabbling about whose turn it is in the spotlight.

I also think that the villains would have taken advantage of it.

The Tartarus Prison Break in pez isn’t the one that happened in canon. Here, the League of Villains attacked Tartarus and set everyone loose. In the process, they made a very clear stance: they are going to leave with All for One, and they are not going to attack any civilians. They won’t fight at all unless attacked first.

All of the horrible and sadistic villains they just let go have not made the same promise.

They chose to do this now because of the Sidekick Strike. All their heroes don’t give a fuck about protecting them, so they’re strapped for staffing. So they’re taking back their leader and going back to ground, and the heroes are free to immediately go after and contain all those bad bad villains who just escaped. And those guys are headed to the heavily populated mainland, so better be quick.

The whole world knew that was their explicit reasoning and promise. Because Himiko fucking lived tweeted the escape.

The Sidekick Strike took the hit for a lot of the blame, but I do see all the sidekicks breaking strike lines to go respond to the crisis. But response times were severely handicapped by the fact that most if not all of them were cut off from their agencies. It was just a complete systemic breakdown.

And then there became the question of what crisis do you respond to: All for One’s escape, or everyone else’s?

I mentioned in one of the little fake tumblr posts that the Tartarus Prison Break was seen as Endeavor’s greatest failure. And part of that is because he chose to sacrifice the nearby area, Yokohama, to contain All for One.

I am one of the biggest haters of Endeavor’s later arc, specifically because it required going back on the nature of the abuse he had subjected his family to that was already established in canon, but that’s a different rant. This is not canon endeavor. I hate what they did with canon endeavor.

That being said, I do think that the self doubt weighed on him once he became number one. And this was the moment of his career where it really crushed him.

All for One had escaped. So had every other villain from Tartarus. He should go after the most immediate threats. He knew this. It was basic triage.

But they would never have a better chance to stop All for One.

Prisoners in Tartarus aren’t exactly hitting all their macros and micros or training daily. They are not adherents to the Bakugou Katsuki Fitness Lifestyle. All for One was coming off spending the last few months drugged up to his eyeballs and strapped to a chair in a straitjacket with at least fifty guns pointed at him at all times. The man has not scratched his own nose in weeks. He’s weaker now than he’ll ever be again.

It was their best chance.

If he escaped, and he went back to ground, he’d have the time and space to get as strong as he wanted, and then he’d come back for real. And he’d be coming back for everything.

Stopping him the first time had cost them All Might.

And Endeavor simply was not All Might. And he still wouldn’t be All Might when the next fight came.

It really was the hardest decision of Endeavor’s life. He had to admit to himself that his own inadequacy was going to cost them countless lives. But he thought it was a hard decision he had to make. He was losing the battle for the barest chance at winning the war.

So he made the call that all heroes were to respond to All for One. They had to hit the league of villains now with their full force if they were to stand a chance. They could not afford to divide their already sparse forces. They’d respond to Yokohama when AfO was contained.

He was also the one who made the call to broadcast the warning message that we hear in the Twitter post. He thought it would give civilians their best chance. He didn’t want them to act with the expectation of the heroes being en route.

Of course, that meant that the entire city got fucking sirens going off and a message telling them that the heroes were not going to save them. Which, as you can expect, did not do a lot for public morale.

In my head, Tartarus is like, the equivalent to Gotham’s Arkham. It’s borderline an institute for the criminally insane. You don’t end up there unless you did something super fucked, are super dangerous, and have extreme violent tendencies. It’s exclusively for the most dangerous and indiscriminately violent criminals in the country.

The entire world was watching in real time while the tragedy unfolded. A lot of people were livestreaming after the emergency broadcast dropped, because they didn’t want the government to be able to handwave away how terrible their death was, or because they didn’t know what else to do, or because they just didn’t want to be alone. The full expectation was that it’d be a massacre.

But it wasn’t. Because Class 2-A responded instead.

The Class 2-A defensive efforts were discussed in one of the silly little fake tumblr posts and in the fake twitter post. In those, we find out that 1) Class 2-A, along with Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire responded to the scene; 2) the entire class rolled out of Mirio’s fucking mom van and tamaki and nejire’s cars like they were fucking clown cars; 3) the HPSC claimed it was a legitimate operation blessed and coordinated by them; and 4) a lot of people think this was a lie, in part because videos leaked of Aizawa bitching them all out in the street afterwards. We also see Izuku’s green lightning at the end of the twitter video, showing him responding to the scene just as the first villains hit the mainland.

This fight has a lot of names in the backstory that lives in my head. It’s called the Tartarus Prison Break for obvious reasons. It’s also been called in some circles the Desertion of Yokohama, because of the call Endeavor made.

But it’s also called the Battle of Yokohoma. And it’s ranked alongside the Battle of Kamino as one of the finest acts of modern day heroics. And that’s because of Class 2-A. If it hadn’t been for them showing up, it would have gone down in history as the Massacre of Yokohama.

Like. It kills me that I can’t include the full details of what happened, but there’s just too much to make in a flashback. It’s a fic in and of itself. But it really was the fight that made Class 2-A.

It was the first fight where they were really the only heroes that could be counted on. Granted, they’d had to fight for their lives alone, but this wasn’t just their lives. These were thousands of terrified civilians who all thought they were going to die.

It was the first true test of them as heroes in the world. And they actually rose to the occasion. They didn’t just fight the villains—they realized that they needed to get emergency services working throughout the city if everyone was going to make it. Momo and Tsuyu conducted a mildly hostile take over of the emergency call center so they could coordinate relief. They had fucking Tokoyami and Dark Shadow single-handedly holding the line on the hospital while Kaminari, Shoji, Jiro, and Sato all learned to drive for the Very First Time while commandeering the city’s fucking ambulances. They were fighting and containing villains, performing emergency aid, putting out literal fires, everything. It was the hardest fight of their lives.

There was a hot second where Class 2-A was The Moment. Like. The entire world was watching them during this fight, and they had no fucking idea until it was over. People lost their minds when the first footage made it out of Yokohama of a bunch of teenagers showing up and immediately throwing hands with S-Class villains.

It was global news. Think of the kind of media attention that was received by the search for the Titan, the Tham Luang Cave Rescue, the Suez Canal getting blocked by the Ever Given (rip queen you will always be famous to me), that kind of thing. Class 2-A was fighting for their fucking lives and then found out three days later while they were all still in the hospital that there was a prayer vigil going on in Portugal for them during the battle and CNN had 24 hours live coverage of the fight that had so many viewers it outnumbered the population of Finland. Like what do you even do with that information.

The world expected a massacre. They didn’t expect a bunch of footage of high schoolers kicking the shit out of superpowered murders and personally ferrying the injured to the hospitals they were also defending.

The other part about this fight that really made them permanently part of the public consciousness is that it was not lost on everyone that every single person who responded to that fight did so at the risk of their license.

All of them had provisional licenses, save Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire, all of whom went AWOL from the explicit directives ordering them to respond to the fight against All for One. The operation could not have been less authorized. They had to steal their gear and jimmy the UA fence to even get out. The explicit plan was to steal one of the UA buses and have Bakugou fucking drive them to the fight (he also did not know how to drive but he seemed the most likely of them to break literally every single motor vehicle code to get them there but still be naturally talented at it enough to not kill them) but Izuku told Mirio what bullshit they were up to and Mirio, who was with Tamaki and Nejire when the news broke, immediately decided he would be on that bullshit too and pulled up in his mom van.

In my mind, there were strict rules around provisional licenses and how they could be used, and they broke pretty much all of them to respond to Yokohama. It would have been grounds to revoke their provisionals and permanently bar them from heroics. Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire could have all lost their licenses for helping them and for going AWOL.

The HPSC fucking fell over themselves to legitimatize the entire operation. They knew they were utterly fucked if they didn’t. These kids already had murals being painted of their faces in other fucking countries. There was a little old lady in Kyoto livestreaming herself working overtime to embroider Iida’s face onto a cushion because that lovely young man saved her darling granddaughter from *checks notes* horrible and painful death directly caused by the failings of the current HPSC administration. There were multiple trending posts online agreeing to fucking riot if those kids got in trouble for this.

Every single actual hero in the immediate vicinity of this disaster had responded to fight a villain who wasn’t actually attacking anyone. And then they fucking lost. They publicly broadcast a message saying Good Luck Champs Because We’re Not Going To Save You. It was an actual PR nightmare that they had a bare chance of salvaging if they just latched onto these kids like an aggressive parasite and that is exactly what they did.

They totally knew. Actually, it was a joint operation coordinated by and between UA and and the HPSC. Why would the kids be in trouble?? They had responded because the HPSC told them to.

UA gave it a week of dead silence and then issued a short statement praising the bravery of their students in a recent HPSC approved mission, and then they never said another word about it. They didn’t have any choice but to go along with the HPSC’s story. If they contradicted them, all of class 2-a would find their licenses pulled by the end of the day, and lord knows they wouldn’t wait for the court of public opinion to work its magic and would just all go out and become fucking vigilantes, because why not. Aizawa has aged 100 years since he got this class. Every single day he thinks of how it was a 50/50 shot between him and Vlad.

No one in the class is fully aware of just how famous they were in the immediate aftermath, because the school bent over backwards to try and shield them from it as much as possible. Like, they have an idea, but none of them saw the full explosion firsthand because of just how hard the school worked to keep it from them. Aizawa confiscated the internet router and told them it was punishment for whatever the fuck they did to the buses (thank god Mirio was just as crazy as them because they were NOT GOOD at hotwiring cars) but really it was to try and insulate them from it a little bit. Like. Japan’s Imperial Family wanted to do an official visit. The White House offered to host them. They received interview requests from every major talk show on the planet. Buzzfeed wanted to do a puppy interview with them.

Right now, Aizawa’s terrified for Midoriya’s graduation, but in the aftermath of that, he was breathing into a paper bag about all of them. Society had sort of latched onto them like they were the last life raft on the titanic. All for One was back, and All Might wasn’t, and the heroes had publicly broadcast a message saying they were useless, but don’t fucking worry, fifteen year old Iida Tenya is on the case. Society will be upheld by Kaminari Denki, currently viral for driving a real life city ambulance one hundred miles per hour down the street while screaming “WEE WOO BITCH.” And don’t forget the pillar that will be Mina Ashido, who rushed over to him earlier that day to show him her extra sparkly pink nails. And if you have a major fight that needs to be won? Don’t fucking worry, just send out bone-breaking boy wonder Midoriya Izuku and his equally reckless brother Toogata Mirio, because their dumbasses managed to take down an S-Class villain team that only All Might could defeat the first time around. Don’t worry about the multi week hospitalization they needed after, because that’s an acceptable burden to put on children.

When Aizawa started this job, he promised himself he would never send a student out to die. Some of them would die. But it would be tragedy, not damnation. He’d have given them their best chance. Part of the reason why he made that promise was because he sort of felt like his teacher sent him out set up to die, and it’s only luck that he made it through his first couple of years.

He has gone to the funeral of every single student he has ever had who did not make it. He goes back to their graves every year.

He was fucking petrified after Yokohama that society would push these kids too far too soon. Every single one of his classes before them had gotten the benefit of being practically unknown their first few years. They didn’t have the world talking about them like they were already the top heroes. He was terrified they wouldn’t have the space to learn and grow when they started.

A lot of teachers would have tried to mine the notoriety of Yokohama to hard launch their students’ careers. Aizawa told Nedzu point blank that he would quit tomorrow if he did not help him quash this thing as much as possible, and nedzu agreed.

This world killed its real heroes. It sucked them dry and left them like All Might, and he just needed fucking time. He needed fucking time to let them be kids and maybe they’d survive.

Izuku ended up being the one who escaped the aftermath of everything the least. His Quirk was too much like All Might’s for the world to let go of him easily.

And then Stain got fucking dogpiled by idaten in the aftermath of the Tartarus prison break and implied he considered Izuku the only true hero in the absence of all might and everyone started asking super inconvenient questions like “how does stain even know you exist” and “no really he called you by your actual legal name how does he even know that” and it just. It didn’t help things. Izuku’s suffering.

So yeah. There was just this absolute collision of a total lack of faith in current heroes combined with a huge swell of public trust in class 2-a that led us to being in the landscape we are now. All of the currently licensed heroes said that they wouldn’t be there to save the public, and then Class 2-A immediately hit back that they would be there. Actually, they’ll risk everything to be there. They’ll die to protect the public and they’ll risk the entire future they had been trying to build and they will fucking be there to save them.

There’s a lot of people that never forgave the heroes for deserting Yokohama. And there’s even more people who have absolute faith in Izuku and his classmates because they didn’t. That’s why the world is watching them so aggressively. These kids are the most trusted heroes in Japan right now.

I wish I could fit in more about what happened, because I love this backstory so much, but 1) some of it absolutely requires POVs like Endeavors, which we won’t get in pez dispenser debris, 2) there’s no one POV that could tell the full story via flashback and 3) it’d just be too long of a divergence. Like. It really is a whole fic of its own. I’d love to write it one day but I probably won’t have the time

#pez dispenser debris #bnha #the sheer drama of the battle of Yokohama #you know the fanfiction battle that lives in my head lol #it’s SO dramatic to me and I’m obsessed with it #when the footage first leaked of class 2A responding people fucking rioted #people all over the world stayed up all night to watch them fight #like They Were The Moment #it was one of those really unique moments of humanity where the entire world held its breath at the same time #and it was just them all really coming into themselves as heroes #there’s so many fucking dramatic moments of it #Izuku had the exact same analysis of all for one’s escape as endeavor #he knew he’d never get a better chance to stop him than right this second. and he also knew that all for one would be coming for him.#no one knew it would one day be his fight. endeavor didn’t know. but Izuku saw afo’s escape and realized that if he went and tried to end #him now it would be his best chance at surviving to adulthood. he picked Yokohama. he doesn’t regret that.#there’s this dramatic moment where all might finds him when they’re breaking out of the school and tells him he’s proud and then lets him go #there’s this huge dramatic fight between Izuku and Mirio and a villain team that wrecked havoc over Japan for nine months until they were #stopped by all might and sir nighteye. there’s TikTok edits of the end of the fight between them and All Might/Nighteye and the end of the #fight between them and Izuku/Mirio. there’s TikTok edits. I’m sick in the head over this fanfic battle I’m sick over it someone sedate me #the entire world is kind of obsessed over this fight but class 3A doesn’t like to talk about it. they were all sort of scared out of their #minds. like no one was coming. it was just them and some of the worst villains alive. everyone close enough to respond was responding to afo #and everyone else was too far away to make it. and like. the UNSPEAKABLE relief the heroes felt when dawn came and Yokohama was still #standing. Aizawa was one of the first to respond to Tartarus before endeavor made the call otherwise he would have been awol too. he got #news mid-battle that UAs class 2A had responded to Yokohama and he spent the entire night terrified that one of them would be dead by the #time he got there. and then he made it and his kids were bloody and exhausted and in shock but they were fucking alive.#he nearly kills yagi in the aftermath what do you MEAN you KNEW THEY WERE DOING THIS and HUGGED THEM GOODBYE #there was also this entire HPSC document leak that happened that I’ve referenced a few times but that was months later so it wasn’t part of #the perfect storm during the twoish weeks surrounding their second sports festival. like what a time. Aizawa has never been more stressed ou #in his life. except for maybe right now when there’s two Izukus and both are in crisis.

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moody-alcoholic · 1 day ago

Text

Sub Ala Angeli

Part 5 - Miracle Worker

Summary: Ghoap x fallen angel!reader, mini fic. Sub ala angeli - Under the wing of an angel.

CW: suggestive content, intimate touching, mention/talk about death, near death experience.

Previous - masterlist - next

Enjoy <3

Johnny leads you down the main street, you walk past all kinds of different stores. There are plenty of people around too, sometimes you get the glimpse of other angels, guardian angels following people around.

Johnny leads you into a store, a bell rings and an old woman behind a counter smiles.

“John, Simon, it’s nice to see you again.” She says she has a strong accent like Johnny.

“Miss McBaine.” John says bouncing over to the counter.

“Mary please. Who is your friend?” She asks looking over at you.

“Angel.” Johnny says.

“Pretty name.” She gushes. You smile at her, something feels wrong. You look round the store, it’s filled with clothes. Johnny lets go of your hand and you go over to a hanger of fluffy looking jumpers. Your hand runs over them as you hear Simon come up behind you.

Johnny is still talking with Mary, you just can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.

“What do you think?” Simon asks. You run your hands down the arms.

“Anything I get we have to cut the back off.” You say letting go of the jumper.

“Guess it was easier when you didn’t have to wear anything.” He says. You nod thinking back to the angels you’ve seen on Earth, they’ve all been covered in some way, shape or form. Loose fitting flowy robes. Or light shines off them so bright you can’t make out any features on their body.

Simon takes you over to get some pants and shoes though, you pick what's comfy and Simon recommends other things. You hear Johnny still talking, the occasional laugh fills the store. It makes you smile.

Maybe you’re just being paranoid, it was probably the cryptic warning the angel gave you. Simon brings some shirts over, everything is oversized so you can cut a hole in the back. When you go over to take a look at dresses theres a sudden chill in the air.

Simon feels it too, you watch him shudder, goosebumps rise over your body. Dread pools in your stomach.

“Feels like someone’s just walked over my grave.” You hear Mary say. You swallow hard looking over at her and Johnny talking by the counter.

You reach out for Simon’s arm as her angel appears next to her.

“Simon. I think something bad is going to happen.” He frowns at you for a second then looks over at Johnny and Mary. You turn back to look. It’s like the scene before you is muted, the temperature of the shop drops.

Things happen quickly, Mary slumps against the counter. Johnny straightens up, Simon is already moving as Johnny reaches over the counter to try and help her. The silence of the room is broken by the gentle humming of her angel. It makes you feel sick, you know that tune.

She’s going to die.

You walk over to them. Simon is bent down by her head, you watch as the angel stands over her.

“Ambulance Johnny.” Simon’s voice brakes through the humming. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

“You’re going to let her die?” You ask the angel in your head. They look over at you and smile. They can’t do anything, you know what they’re feeling you’ve been here before. You look down at Simon, he’s hands are pressing on her chest.

You feel your fingers start to tingle, you could save her. You can save her, you have to believe. You walk over to them, Johnny is on the phone, you ignore him focusing on the tune the angel is humming.

You bend down by her side, Simon looks up at you. “Let me.” You say placing your hand on his. You look up at him. He looks confused but he stops, moving his hands away. You place your hands on her chest.

There’s no heartbeat, it feels wrong. You remember feeling Johnny’s hand under yours, for a second it feels like your own heart skips a beat. This could be him, if the warnings are true, you could end up in this same position only with him below you.

You close your eyes and let out a breath. The angel stops humming. You’ve only ever done this once before. On a child, not a fully grown person. You concentrate putting all your energy into praying for her heart to beat again. Your hands feel warm, your energy, your lifeforce being transferred from you into her.

You pray, pray for her to live, it feels like you’re willing the life back into her. You can feel yourself getting weaker, your head starts to swim, it’s becoming harder to concentrate. You don’t want to give up though, you won’t give up.

You feel a warm hand on your shoulder, you get a sudden burst of energy. The feeling of dread goes away, the weakness subsides and you feel calm, a warm feeling travels through you. When you feel her heart beat again you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“Thank you.” You hear the angel say. Their warm hand leaves your shoulder along with the feeling of calm. You open your eyes looking over at Simon, you sit back on your knees, and smile at him as it feels like all your energy has just been pulled out of you.

Simon presses her fingers into Mary’s neck, he looks up at you shocked. You turn to her angel stood by her head.

“John is very lucky to have you watching over him.” They say.

“I’m not his guardian angel.” You reply.

“Ambulance is here.” You hear Johnny call as the sound of sirens gets closer. When you turn back the angel is gone. Simon comes over to you wrapping his arms around you and helping you to your feet. You lean against him, your legs wobble, your whole body feels heavy.

You’re not even paying attention to the random people rushing into the store. Johnny talks to them as Simon takes you out the way over to a chair. As soon as you sit down and lose the support of his arms your head swims and you slump to the side.

“Easy, easy.” He says his arms coming back round you, you lean against him. You straighten up as best as you can. You grit your teeth, you have to keep your wing hidden.

“Simon,” you breathe. He looks down at you as he pulls you tighter against him. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this for.”

“C’mon,” he says, helping you to your feet. You can still feel a chill in the air. You lean against him, Johnny sees you moving and comes over to you.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asks, his hand coming to rub your arm. You nod and it makes your head swim.

“We’re going to the car, how much longer do you think you’ll be?” Simon asks, Johnny quickly looks back at the paramedics loading Mary onto a stretcher.

“Not long.” Johnny says. “I just have to get someone to mind the store, call her daughter.”

She’s alive, you did that, you broke the rules again. And you’ll do it again if you need to, especially for Johnny or Simon. As Simon guides you out the store people are coming over to look. Small town, probably the biggest thing that’s happened in a while. By the time you make it to the car you can barely keep it together.

“Si-” his name catches in your throat.

“Almost there, c’mon you can make it.” He encourages you, hitching you up against him while he fishes his pocket for the key. You grit your teeth using the last of your energy to grip onto him while he opens the door.

Black spots flash across your vision. Simon turns you sitting you down in the back of the car, you can’t hide your wing anymore. Lucky Simon is blocking anyone from being able to see in. Simon’s hands rest on on your shoulders holding you up. You hear the door open behind you.

“I got her.” You hear Johnny say pulling you back against him. Simon picks your legs, putting them in the car, and closing the door. You shiver as Johnny wraps his arms around you.

“She’ll be okay.” You say.

“Will you be okay?” Johnny asks. You don’t know what to say, you've never felt like this before. You feel tired, your body is heavy, you can’t keep your eyes open.

“I won’t let anything happen to you Johnny.” You say as your breathing slows.

“What's that love?” Johnny asks, he shakes your shoulders, it jolts you and you look over at Simon in the front seat. He looks worried, you smile at him as you relax further against Johnny.

“She’ll be okay.” you repeat closing your eyes.

___

You think you’re in a dream, for the first time ever. You wake up back in heaven, it’s just not quite right though. It’s like you’re there but not there, the colours are faded and the sounds are muted, you're not quite sure how you got here. There are angels all around you, Archangels and Seraphims.

You’re in the judgment hall, towering gold and iridescent structures surround the massive space. In the center there’s a collection of other angels, messengers, other guardian angels all watching you as the higher angels decide your fate.

You hear doors open behind you, you turn to see two angels come out and stand behind you.

“Judgment has been decided.” One of the Seraphims says, their voice echoing round the space. You’re holding your breath. All you can think about is Mary, her lifeless body under your hands.

“Take the other wing.” One of the Seraphims says. You feel sick, tears start rolling down your face. You need your wing, you can’t protect Johnny if you lose one more thing that makes you who you are.

“What about Johnny?” You ask, stepping forward. You hear mumbles rise up.

“You sealed his face by saving the woman.” The same Seraphim says.

“No!” You shout lunging forward. Arms grab you pulling you back and forcing you to your knees. It hurts sending shooting pains up your legs. You hear the growl of a dog.

“Please save him!” You plead. “Send me to hell, take my wing but please spare him!” You’re begging, sobbing at them. You know it’s not going to change anything you know it’s not going to make them think any different. You fight out the grip of the angels holding you and rush forward.

“I love him! Simon loves him!” You’ll destroy them both!” You shout between sobs. The Seraphim turns back to look at you as your arms are pulled back again. To your surprise they fly down. You’ve never seen one so close to you before. They’re bigger than you ever thought they were, their 6 wings make them look even larger.

“You’re an angel, you know nothing of love.” They spit, there’s emotion in their voice, anger, disgust.

“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” You say to them. Their eyes widen and they float away from you.

“Take the wing!” They shout. You smile up at them as you hear the patter of the hellhound's feet rushing towards you.

You let out a scream as its teeth sink into your flesh.

…

Your body jolts up, you look around franticly. You’re in their house, their bed, you look out the windows, it's dark now. Your body is covered in a layer of sweat, your heart is pounding rapidly in your chest. It feels like you can’t catch your breath.

You panic, pulling your wing round holding it in your arms. You let out a sigh of relief stroking down the feathers. You swing your legs out the bed throwing the duvet back and stand up letting your wing go and pressing it back against you.

Now you need to see Johnny, you need to make sure he’s safe. You walk out the bedroom, you can see them on the sofa Johnny laid in Simon's arms. As soon as they hear you Johnny gets up to his feet coming over to you.

You feel tears forming in your eyes as you rush over to him, throwing your arms and wing around him, pulling him against you as you sob into his chest.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” His hands rub your back. You pull your face off his chest sniffling.

“I had one of those dreams, it felt so real.” You say looking up at him. His hands come up to your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. He leans down to kiss you, it feels good, safe. He’s gentle, his hands brushing your cheeks as the tears escape. You break from the kiss as a sob rises in your throat.

“Come sit, talk to us.” Johnny says, you nod, dropping your wing and following him to the sofa. You sit in between them. Simon’s hand lands on your back while Johnny rubs your thigh.

“What happened today. With Mary?” Johnny asks.

“I don’t know how to describe it.” You say hanging your head.

“Can you bring people back from the dead?” Simon asks.

“No, but if we’re quick enough, and have help, like today. We can essentially stop death.” You explain.

“Help?” Johnny asks.

“Mary’s guardian angel helped me. I wouldn’t have been able to save her on my own.” You say.

“How?” Simon asks. You look up at him.

“The energy angels have, we can channel it, use it to bless people or heal people. Normally just cuts and bruises, It’s only in very specific circumstances we can use it to- for example- restart a heart.” You let out a sigh, you still feel exhausted. “If we use too much energy it will kill us.”

“I thought you were immortal.” Johnny says.

“Immortal not invincible.” You say. Johnny squeezes your thigh. It feels good calming, just like Simon’s hand rubbing your lower back.

“You saved her life. She’s going to be okay.” Johnny says. You look up at him and smile.

“What was your dream about?” Simon asks.

“They were taking my other wing for saving her, like I saved the kid I was ordered to watch over.” You say leaving out the part about Johnny. It doesn’t work though.

“You were mumbling in your sleep. You called out for Johnny.” Simon says.

“In the car, you said you wouldn't let anything happen. Is something going to happen?” Johnny asks. You look between them. You feel a lump rise in your throat. Everything in your body is telling you not to tell them.

Maybe telling them will ruin it. You remember what the Seraphim shouted at you in your dream ‘you sealed his fate.’ You open your mouth but you can’t think of an excuse. Whatever you were going to say is replaced with a sob and you throw your face in your hands.

“I met Johnny’s guardian angel. They warned me you’re going to die.” His grip tightens on your leg, Simon’s hand stops rubbing your back. You look up at Johnny, there’s worry in his eyes. “They told me to save you. When we went to the town, another angel warned me that your fate isn’t sealed. They told me to protect you.”

You don’t expect them to say anything, Simon lets out a sigh and his hand runs over your missing wing. It sends chills down your spine.

“How-” You watch Johnny swallow. “How will it happen?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see the future, no one can.” You say.

“So how do you know he’s going to die?” Simon asks, there’s an edge in his voice

“We can’t see the future. We’re told the information we need to know.” You say.

“Did they say when it would happen?” Johnny asks.

“They said a week.” You reply solemnly. His hand comes up to pull your chin to look at him. He smiles, tipping his head and kisses you.

“Nothing bad is going to happen.” He says brushing his lips with your thumb.

“But-”

“No. You saved a life today, you’re a miracle worker. You said my fate is not sealed.” He looks over at Simon quickly then back to you. “That means I have a chance.” You nod.

Simon’s arms come back around you pulling you against him. You stretch your wing out wrapping it over the back of the sofa and around Johnny who shuffles into it running his hand over the tip.

He smiles at you and leans against it. He reaches down and pulls your legs up over his thighs. Simon's arm wraps over your chest.

“It’s going to be okay.” Simon says as he presses a kiss on the back of your head.

“We’ve faced worse odds and come out on the other side.” Johnny says. You believe them, at the same time you don’t know what might happen, Johnny rubs your leg. You can feel Simon’s heart beating against your back.

You don’t mean to fall asleep but sleep comes anyway. You feel Johnny stroking the feathers of your wing resting round his shoulder.

You’ll keep him safe, you’ll keep them both safe.

…

“Johnny.” Simon whispers. He turns to see you sleeping in Simon's arms. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know.” He replies looking back at the TV.

“Want me to call the cavalry?” Simon asks.

“Yeah,” Johnny scoffs. “And tell them what? Hey Gaz, you’ll never believe this; an angel landed in our backyard and told me I’m going to die in a week.”

“Johnny.” Simon sighs. “What does that book of yours say about fate?”

“Everything is already written.” He says.

“Sounds like bullshit.” Simon replies, tightening his grip around you.

“Up until a few days ago you didn’t believe in anything.” He reminds him, running his hand through your feathers.

“I believe we make our own fates.” Simon says.

“Let’s go to bed.” Johnny says turning the tv off.

“What about her?” Simon asks as Johnny stands, your wing goes limp and your snuggle further against Simon’s chest.

“I can pull the bed out?” Johnny asks. Simon looks down at you brushing the hair out your eyes.

“No, let’s bring her to bed with us.” Simon says.

“You sure?” Johnny asks. Simon’s already moving, pulling you up in his arms. Johnny smiles, going to help him tucking your wing over Simon’s shoulder. He follows close behind, watching as Simon carries you through to the bedroom. Your chin rested on his shoulder, legs hanging round his waist.

“Maybe she can talk to heaven or something?” Johnny says.

“If she could, do you think they would listen?” Simon asks, walking round to Johnny’s side of the bed. Johnny doesn’t say anything, Simon lays you on your stomach, pulling the duvet over you. Simon sighs, coming over to Johnny and wrapping his arm round his waist.

“I’ll lock up. You get into bed.” Simon says, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“Don’t take too long.” Johnny replies. Simon smiles and leaves the room. Johnny changes scooting into bed next to you. You’re completely passed out again, your body is like a lead weight has he moves you a little giving Simon more room to lay next to him.

Simon comes back, turning the hallway light off and closing the door to the bedroom behind him. Johnny watches as he pulls his clothes off in the dark then crawls into bed wrapping his arms around him and pulling him up on his chest.

“Johnny.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell will freeze over before I let anything happen to you.” Simon says his hand coming up to stroke Johnny’s cheek. “God will have to come down here himself and get you.”

“It’s going to be okay. We have our own guardian angel.” Johnny says, wrapping his arm round Simon’s waist pulling him against him. Simon hums leaning over to kiss him. Johnny’s fingers dig into his waist. Johnny hums in his mouth moving one of his hands round to the front of Simon’s boxers.

Simon pulls away from the kiss. “We’re not alone Johnny.” Johnny hums wrapping his hand round Simon’s cock feeling it twitch in his hand.

“You’re all pent up.” Johnny whispers his lips brushing Simon’s. Before Johnny can go any further you turn behind him. He feels your arm slip over him. He freezes looking up at Simon as your wing stretches, resetting over them both.

He feels the heat coming off the wing, he moves his hand back over to Simon’s waist.

“I love you Si. We’ll figure it out.” Johnny says, pulling himself against Simon’s chest.

“Yeah we will. I love you too Johnny.” He replies, kissing his forehead. Johnny smiles hearing Simon’s heart beat against his ear and the warmth of your wing covers them all. He doesn’t feel fear, worry, he doesn’t feel anything. Just the warmth of your wing and his husband's arms.

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w0lvierama · 17 hours ago

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SFW

Boyfriend!Megumi, who tries to be sweet just for you. He’s not good at it, but he tries his best. He’s sure to tell you he loves you often, not wanting you to ever doubt your relationship with him. He kisses your forehead when you’re worried, always reassuring you that he’ll take care of things for you, no matter what. He gets embarrassed when you hold his hand in public, but he doesn’t pull away.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who is not one for pet names. He gets awkward when he tries to call you anything other than your name. However, you can’t help but notice how the tips of his ears grow red whenever you sweetly make up dumb nicknames for him. His favorite nicknames tend to be the dumber ones. He’ll sarcastically say that you’re going to make him sick with how sweet you are.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who always comes to you when he’s exhausted. He’ll melt into your arms, cuddling you as he tries to get the good sleep you tell him he needs. He sleeps a lot easier around you, and doesn’t get his usual nightmares. He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair while he’s dozing.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who summons his shikigami for you to cuddle with, because he knows how much you love animals. His shikigami are always happy to see you.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who saves up his allowance to buy you books and clothes. He won’t admit it, but seeing you light up and smile whenever he gets you a gift, makes his day so much better. Most of your jewelry is from him.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who gets his driver’s license and a car, so that you don’t have to take a taxi anymore and he can see you more often. He’ll drop you off at work, leaning over to mutter in your ear, “Have a good day. Call me if you need anything.” He’ll then kiss your cheek, and give your knee a squeeze.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who doesn't like you wearing skirts out in public because he’s worried you’ll be harassed. He’ll walk beside you on the street, a hand on the small of your back, glowering anytime someone else looks at you. He gets jealous easily, and can be a bit insecure about your relationship.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who only smiles when you’re around. You’re the only person who doesn’t annoy him constantly. He’ll act annoyed sometimes, but you can see right through him.

Boyfriend!Yuji Next! SFW again!

After Boyfriend!Yuji is Boyfriend!Choso. If you guys have any requests feel free to leave them in the comments. Otherwise, the ones I do next will probably be JJk Men as husbands. I’m not opposed to doing Part 2 of some of the boyfriends either.

#jjk fluff #jjk #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #Megumi gets his drivers license #headcanon #megumi x reader

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loves1ckmoth · 1 day ago

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NEW TATTOO

Non-WLF!Abby x Reader

Warnings ♡: fem reader, they tease and argue in the beginning, reader has an attitude, they cuddle at the end, reader gives Abby a stick and poke, Abby gets her dad's birthday and name tattooed, my babies

Word count ♡: 1169 (heh)

Your day had been long, and with the storm outside, you were sure the night would be even longer. Abby sat beside you like she always did before bed. Tonight, she was sorting through everything you had gathered from the town you ran across today. She frowns as she takes out a plastic bag of ballpoint pens.

“Did you need to grab these?” She grumbles, inspecting them. “Of course I did! How else am I supposed to cover your arms with tattoos?” You say jokingly, but the way she eyes you tells you that she does not take it as such. “How the hell would you tattoo me with these? Don’t they use a different ink? And a whole gun?”

You roll your eyes and snatch the bag from her, pulling one out. “You take out all the ink from these and put it into something. I like to use those old bottle caps from sodas. Then, you take a needle or something of the sort and stab a pattern onto yourself.

She looks disturbed, shooting you a weird look. “That doesn’t sound right at all. Isn’t there ink poisoning and infections from the needles? I wouldn’t trust you within five feet of me if you were going to do that.”

You groan, leaning over and falling into her lap. You press the back of your hand to your forehead, whimpering in faux pain. “You wound me… Implying I would hurt you… You’re so awful to me.” Once you’re finished whining, you peek up at her to see her reaction. She’s not amused.

“Are you quite done?” She says snarkily, and you sit up. You roll your eyes and she wants to smack you upside the head for your attitude, but the way your mouth quirks up and she can see your smile lines after teasing her makes it bearable. “Why can’t you be fun? I’d only do something simple. I’ve done it to myself before and I turned out fine.” She raises a brow and looks you over as if to say, ‘Did you?’ “I did, dammit!” You shout.

She finally grins, grabbing her stomach as she starts to laugh. It stuns you. All you can do is watch and stare. Her eyes crinkle at the corners and her nose scrunches. Her hair flies over her shoulder as she leans back. Was it that funny? As her laughter dies down to soft heaves and she rubs tears from her eyes, she looks back at your starstruck expression.

“‘M sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I shouldn’t laugh at you.” She says as she finally manages to recuperate. You frown finally, leaning back against the wall and studying the pen that’s still in your hands. “So you won’t let me do it?” You ask softly. She leans back with you, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m just wary. I don’t want to get sick or hurt from it. But where would you put it? What would you put?” You also take a moment to think before tilting your head to face her. You like it when it’s quiet like this. Despite your fear of the storm taking down the house you’re staying in, you like the way her nose looks against the dark, rainy window. You wanna reach out and touch it? It’s not like it’s normal for you to poke her randomly but this time would feel too intimate.

“I’d like to put something on your arms. They’re so big and bulky and empty. I don’t want to do your stomach, That hurts a lot more. As for what… I’m not sure.” She hums quietly, messing with her arms as your gaze drops down to them. They might be your favorite part of her. The way they’re so huge, the way the muscles underneath ripple when she chops them, the way they feel around your neck and you start getting lightheaded… Yeah. You like it all.

“Do you have any quotes from books you like? Or maybe a name or a date?” You ask softly. A strange haze drops over her eyes and her brows furrow. She looks concentrated. “A date and a name. On my arm. Would you do that?” Even if you weren’t over the moon about doing it, you know you wouldn’t be able to tell her no. Not when that familiar mournful look takes control of her face.

“Of course, I would. Is it him and his birthday?” She nods solemnly. You don’t need to say his name. You both know. You’re sure if you said her dad's name aloud she’d finally break down in front of you. Out of all the walls she erected, most have fallen except that one. You want to see her finally surrender it all into your hands, but you’ll wait patiently for it. It feels better like that.

“I saw a soda bottle outside earlier. I’ll clean it up in the rain. You can use that spare needle from the sewing kit in my pack.” She says as she gets up and you’re quick to follow orders. Her bag is a maze to navigate and it frustrates you every time you have to look in it. You’re convinced only she can navigate it.

Once she’s back with the bottle, you’ve managed to find the needle. She sits in front of you as you get the ink from the pens into the cap. She rolls up her sleeve for you and places it in your lap. You gently draw out the date and her father's name with one of the pens that’s still intact.

You hum quietly, offering a gentle hand as you get to work on her. She likes the way your brows furrow as you concentrate and watching you stick out your tongue manages to distract her from your arm. It begins to come out nicely and she’s pleasantly surprised.

You pull back after a while and stretch, your body trembling. She bites the inside of her cheek as your shirt rides up, barely constraining herself from grabbing your midriff. “You done?” She asks quietly. When you nod, she takes her half-asleep arm off your lap and looks it over.

You study her face, waiting for a response. “Is it any good?” She huffs, barely holding back tears. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” You smile brightly, incredibly proud of your work. You clean up the space as a bright flash floods the house. She holds up a finger to silence you as she counts the time until the thunder comes, making the house shake. She sighs in relief once it passes. “It’s a ways away. We’ll be fine for the night.”

She moves with you now, helping set up a pallet on the floor next to the dying fire. Once it’s all laid out, she grabs you by the hip and pulls you into her. “Lay down and rest. Let me help you sleep.” You let out a soft breath and melt into her, finally collapsing for the night.

Hi everyone!! Back with Abby again because I missed her ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა ♡♡ reblogs and likes are the most appreciated ♡

#dividers by dollywons #loves1ckmoth writes ♡#abby the last of us #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby x you #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby angst #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n

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urdsstiny · 19 hours ago

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I WANNA BE YOURS | hamzah

the past few days had been challenging for both Hamzah and his roommate, you. your relationship was always a bit strange; you never viewed each other as anything beyond friends, but that was a far cry from the truth.

occasionally, you’d find yourself entwined with him, breathless and sweaty, yet either of you ever discussed it or reflected on those moments. you were just roommates—nothing more.

however, when you brought a reoccurring guest home again, hamzah felt a wave of confusion wash over him. jealously was definitely a part of it. and now, she was introducing them again.

as hamzah stepped into the apartment, he took off his hat with a sigh as it hit the floor. he had been busy filming a vlog all day with martin and hadn’t even noticed that you had brought that guy over again until he emerged from your bedroom, shirtless. from the flushed look on his face, hamzah knew why he’d come over.

"hey dude." the guy greeted him as he brushed by him to the door, a cocky smile on his face. as soon as the guy entered his field of vision, he felt anger boil in his veins. the guys cocky little smirk just making him even more irritated.

"hey." hamzah replied back, forcing a small smile. he moved his gaze away from the guys semi-exposed chest to you, who was exiting your bedroom with a yawn. you didn’t noticed him at first, only finally spotting him when you entered the kitchen. “oh, hey. how was work?”

as you crossed into the kitchen, hamzah followed behind, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "it was alright." he replied, his gaze still eyeing the guy through the window, watching him walk down the sidewalk with a few of his friends.

hamzah looked away as he leaned back in the chair. "y'know, it's kind of strange that you've been bringing that guy over so often." you frowned slightly as you began to make some noodles, too late at night to justify anything more.

"how is that strange?" seeing you begin to mess with the noodles, brought hamzah’s attention away from the window and to you. though his frown stayed on his face. "because it just is. i mean who is he? and does he have to come shirtless every time you bring him over?"

"well," you smirk, "he's gonna end up naked anyways. it's called time saving." you joked as you looked back at hamzah, realising he was not finding it as amusing as you.

and just like that, the irritation was back. the mention of the guy ending up naked and you sleeping with him, just made it worse. he scoffed, bringing a hand to his forehead with a sigh, before mumbling something under his breath.

"what was that?" you asked, not realising you were poking the bear with your question. he raised his head, looking you in the eyes. “you really want to know what i said?" he asked, moving his hand to grip the edge of the table.

you nodded, words failing you as you watched his eyes darken. they looked over your body, clad in an oversized shirt and shorts that were invisible underneath the top. it made hamzah's heart pound harder against his ribcage. he stood from the seat before moving to you, stopping once he was directly in front of you. his gaze scanning over your body before meeting your eyes. "i said, that i'm sick of that guy coming around."

"why?" you lose your nerve slightly at him so close to you "it's not as if he bothers you." as soon as you replied back, the thought of that guy touching you in all of the places that make you squirm, filled his mind. hamzah took a step closer, crowding you up against the counter. "but he does bother me."

"why? did he do something?”

"yes, he did do something. he came here." hamzah replied, voice dropping to a near whisper, his gaze going down to your lips for a split second. your chuckles grew dry as you realised what he was implying. you stood silent for a moment, glancing up at him. "are you jealous, hamzah?"

hamzah's jaw tightened at the mention of jealousy, his gaze hardening. "no." he replied, the lie leaving a bad taste in his mouth. he was jealous, so jealous. he leaned down, his face mere inches away from your own. "why would i be jealous?"

"because you wish you were him.” you choked out, trying to keep the same confidence you had entered the conversation with. it was hard with him looming over you, his gaze making you tremble.

hamzah froze, feeling his heart pound even harder. you were right. he wanted to be the one. he pushed away the thought, trying to fight the growing urge to pin you against the counter. "why would i want that?" he asked, looking straight into your eyes.

you smiled, giving him a sultry look as you answered. "i'm not answering that for you, hamzah." you stated before turning, finishing your noodles. the moment you turned, showing more of your thighs as your shirt rode up, hamzah swallowed as he took in the sight.

he fought the urge to grab your waist and pull you to him, the look on your face making him want to rip away that shirt. he watched as you finished up your noodles, still fighting against the growing urge to touch you. he knew he should leave the kitchen but he couldn't bring himself to move.

you finished with making your food, standing still as you waited to see if hamzah was going to make a move. your chest pounded as you waited on something, anything, words or even just touch. you craved it.

you just standing there, waiting for his next move... it was driving him crazy. he needed to touch you, he needed to hear you say his name. hamzah's hands came to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. your thin shirts the only thing separating the two of you.

you felt his hands come forward to grip your hips as he leaned down into your ear. he pressed up closely against your back, the feel of his hard chest against you making your skin ignite. he leaned forward, his breath fanning over your ear.

"do you have any idea of what you do to me." he questioned, his low voice sending a shiver down your spine. you giggled, and his grip tightened. "maybe."

hamzah's jaw clenched at your response, the grip on your hips tightening. "you’re brat." he whispered, before biting your earlobe. you spun around, his hands moving down slightly as you leaned forward. "what are you gonna do?"

his hands slid to your backside, gripping hard. hamzah looked into your eyes before suddenly picking you up, placing you on the counter. "i think we both know the answer to that." you smirked as you finally leaned in, pressing your lips to his while your hands gripped his shoulders.

he leaned in, meeting you halfway as he pushed his lips against yours, his hands moving up to thread through your hair. hamzah pulled away for just a moment, taking in the sight before him. "i can't stand that there's other guys out there touching you." he said, before connecting his lips to your own once more.

hamzah started pressing small kisses along your jawline, before moving down to your neck. once he reached your sweet spot, he bit down on the sensitive flesh, before sucking and marking it red. he pulled back, staring at the mark before growling and attaching himself to your neck once more.

"that's not m'fault." you murmured as you moved ur neck to give him more access. "i know it's not." he replied against your neck, he slowly moved down, leaving a large trail of marks along your neck, before he reached the hem of your shirt. pulling away for a moment, he looked into your eyes as he tugged on the material. "this really needs to come off."

"i’m not having another one nightstand with you, hamzah." you couldn't be only with him once. he was addictive. he watched as you grew vulnerable, and for a moment, he knew then that was it for him. he would never want anyone else.

he watched as you grew vulnerable, and for a moment, he knew then that was it for him. he would never want anyone else. he shook the thought away, before leaning forward, so his mouth was close to your ear. "i don't want a one nightstand either." he replied, his fingers tugging on the shirt. "i want to make you mine, and only mine."

“make me yours, hamzah.”

#slushy noobz #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzah oneshot #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah fluff #hamzahangst #hamzah fic #hamzah x y/n #hamzah x reader #hamzah angst #fics

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astridflies · 6 hours ago

Text

Actually I am gonna reblog with an addition.

Depression hit me when I was eleven. I could not make sense of why I felt the way I did. I told my parents that I thought about killing myself. My parents told me everyone has feelings like that sometimes. I thought it was normal. (I am told this is not normal.)

I couldn't sleep through most of my young adulthood. I tossed and turned in bed and it would take me at least two or three hours to fall asleep, if I slept at all. I had periods of wild energy, actual mental health crises in school, and days where I could do nothing but cry. I was ashamed at my incessant thoughts of stepping in front of a car, jumping off a roof, drowning myself in the bath tub. I had a good life. I didn't go hungry, I had friends, my family was mostly functional. I had no reason to feel like my sorrow could drown me at any moment.

I hit my breaking point at 27. I had already been treated for anxiety, but only with therapy. When my doctor suggested I try SSRIs, I said no at first. I didn't want to change myself like that. The doctor said that was fine, but said I could always change my mind later. She never pressured me into medication. When therapy didn't pull me out of the hole and people started to regularly ask if I was sick (I had someone describe me as gray back then), I finally asked for medication. I had friends who had been on them. Their reactions were mixed. I knew it might not help the first time around. I expected it to not work. But I was so damn desperate for relief that I would take any change if it meant not feeling like that anymore.

Two weeks into my first SSRI, I woke up with a clear head. It was like the clouds in my head parted and I could feel the warmth of the sun again. I realized I hadn't known a restful sleep in my adult life.

I wasn't changed. I was just able to live.

Part of me is upset that I waited so long. That I held on to this concept of self, this righteousness of suffering, this purity of mind for no reason. The SSRI didn't change me. It just treated my depression.

I still feel sadness. I still feel anxious. But I also feel joy. I feel contentment. I feel things other than the relentless sorrow that comes with a deficit of basic chemicals. My happiness is no longer fleeting. I love to read and write, like I did growing up. My morals haven't changed. The only change my friends remarked on was how much better I looked and sounded. That I seemed like I was doing well. That I was doing well. Hell, my parents (who to this day think SSRIs are poison) even marveled at the change in my mood.

Your emotions are not you. They are an aspect of you.

90s movies: Psychopharmacology is as good as a lobotomy. If you take pills to treat your mental illness it will literally murder your imaginary friends and you will become a boring, lotus-eating conformist drone.

Me after taking my meds: drives the scenic route home to see if there are any geese on the pond and does a little dance in line at the grocery store and comes home to throw everything in my fridge into a stew pot because I can finally taste food again while singing songs at my birds in which I replace all the instances of "she" with "Cheese" and doing a Dolly Parton impression on the phone to my sister

#tw depression #mental health #ssri

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citricacidprince · 1 day ago

Note

I was looking at your relativity falls au and I was thinking since Ford in the original series takes off Stan’s hat to show his hair, kinda revealing he is Ford, what if in relativity falls Ford takes the glasses off of Stan and puts them on and that is kinda of the moment

Also I really want more protective! Relativity falls Ford, I want to watch that child go feral and start biting people <3

Hiiiii!!! Sorry it took a super long time to reply to this I just,, this possessed me so much I may or may not have written, uh, 7400 words based on this lol (also a drawing but it’s hidden in the writing haha)

There sadly isn’t a lot of feral protective Ford in this, just sad wet cat baby Ford (tho you get a glimpse of it at the very end), but believe me I have many thoughts of protective Ford as they’re teens hehe!!

Like, they’re so fun to be because they’re the opposite of how they are in the show! Stan was the protector and would get into fights for Ford, but as teens Ford is extremely protective of Stan and will throw himself into a fight he know he can’t win in a moments notice because they insulted Stan, even when Stan tries to insist that it’s okay. These two make me siiiiick 💥💥💥💥💥

Anywho, this mini writing this is just a prolonged scene from Weirdmageddon part 3 but with my Relativity Falls AU paint on it lol

It’s filled with an comical amount of tears because I believe Mabel and Dipper are weepy saps and the baby boys haven’t had the ‘Boys don’t cry’ motto drilled into their heads yet, also they’re like, super traumatized atm haha

Well, have fun reading! Please please please please be nice, I know I’m not the best writer and just write when I’m possessed so please be so niceies to me or I’ll fucking cry <33💥💥💥💥

Everything is under the cut! :]

🍃🪦☁️~~~~~~~~~~~~⛈️👓🥀

Mabel and Dipper could only watch on in shock and horror as one of their beloved great nephew erased the mind of their other beloved great nephew. Dipper didn’t even know the boys still had that blasted machine, much less that they still had it on them here of all places!

Maybe it was good that the children had the memory gun hidden away. After all, they just used it to outwit and defeat Cipher.

However… at what cost?

Stanley’s round face was drenched in silent tears as he held the memory gun to the back of his brother’s head, his gaze completely focused but his trembling grip on the memory gun giving away just how much this was affecting him.

Dipper always thought he’d be ecstatic when Bill Cipher was finally defeated. Spit on his face, dance on his grave, give the worst eulogy in the world, the whole shebang. But now that the moment has finally arrived all he can feel is sick to his stomach.

They’re just kids. They shouldn’t be here. His sweet little grand-nephews shouldn’t be paying for his hubris. This should’ve stayed between him and Bill.

It should have been him.

The bright blue light faded and the memory gun hit the ground, Stanley’s hands shaking even worse now as tears fell to the floor, unable to keep his head up as little hiccups fell from his lips.

Dipper was still squeezing Mabel close to his side, the two frozen in their huddled positions on the floor, gut-wrenching guilt on his face while his sister had her hands over his mouth, only able to watch on with dread.

Dipper only faintly registered that the other members of the zodiac had been released from their tapestry prisons. That blonde woman Mabel seemed to like was rubbing her head as that young Hispanic woman who works for Mabel, Anjelita, held out a hand to help her up. That red-headed hairy lumberjack and that one oddly peppy goth teen helped young Fiddleford through his shaky breathing.

After a couple of moments Dipper heard his sister take a deep shaky breath, his voice wet as one of her hands reached out towards Stanley.

“…L-Lee? Lee, baby come here-” There was a weary and wobbly smile on her lips. She was doing that thing where she tries to be the comforting light in an awful situation, even though she is not doing any better than anyone else at the moment.

She was trying to corral her crying great-nephew into her arms, a mixture of trying to comfort him and herself.

She was swiftly cut off by gravity going wonky.

Dark bricks ripped out of the walls and shot up into the rift up in the blood red sky, Weirdmaggedon falling apart at the seams. Creatures of many shapes and sizes flew up into the rift, the older twins gripping each other close as they stared up into the multicolored light. Everyone was staring up into the sky, hope and relief in their hearts that the nightmare might finally be over.

Everyone but Stanley.

He was intensely staring at the back of his brother’s head, silent tears continuously streaming down his cheeks, unable to see the small content smile on Stanford’s face.

As the light began to envelop the town of Gravity Falls, Stanley reached out his hand to his kneeling brother to try and grab onto him but was unable to before the light reached the two, erasing most traces of Weirdmaggedon’s effects and safely displacing everyone in the Fearamid to the ground below.

The woods were quiet. Everything was much quieter than it was during Weirdmageddon.

There was barely a moment of peace before Dipper and Mabel were sprinting through the woods yelling out for their great-nephews, panic increasing with every passing second.

They finally came across the boys in a small clearing after 2 minutes of franticness. Stanley’s back to the older set of twins and Stanford kneeling in the grass.

Mabel ran much faster than Dipper did, practically throwing herself to her knees as she grabbed Stanley and pulled him tight into her arms. She buried him into the crook of her neck, tears beginning to drip down her face as she ran her fingers through his messy brown curls, trying to soothe him while she gently shushed his crying.

“Shhhh… shhh it’s okay Lee it’s okay sweepea, I’m here, Grunkle Mabel is here pumpkin.”

Dipper would’ve chuckled at the use of ‘Grunkle Mabel’, something Stanley insisted on calling her even after she revealed that she wasn’t a man because he thought Grauntie sounded strange, but he couldn’t really feel anything but heart ache right now. He stepped closer to the crying duo, kneeling down next to them as he glanced over towards Stanford.

He still seemed to be unconscious, quiet as a mouse as he kneeled on the grass. He was so still that Dipper almost wanted to check his pulse to make sure his heart was still beating, but the soft breathing coming from his chest eased his worries. Stanford was always so stressed and on edge the entire time Dipper had known him, which in all honesty, wasn't very long. However, in this moment with that small smile on his lips his nephew almost looked peaceful.

Guilt ate at his heart even more.

God he should’ve seen the warning signs that tension was building between the two boys. He’s the catalyst for causing Weirdmageddon by saying he would train Stanford in Gravity Falls while Stanley went home. He should’ve put his foot down and said Stanford was too young and needed to go home at the end of the summer with his brother. But his great nephew was just so insistent and Dipper himself was scrambling to think of an amazing gift for his twin sister for their first birthday together in 30 years, he just caved and said yes.

He’s the reason Stanley ran with that cracked rift. He was the final crack in the already strained relationship between the boys and he was too blind to notice.

He turned to his sister once more, emotions welling in his heart seeing his sister and nephew so upset and clinging to each other. He gingerly rubbed Stanley’s back and Mabel’s shoulder, softly speaking with sorrow dripping from his voice, “Stanley, I am so sorry… words can’t express how much I didn’t want this to happen. You shouldn’t have had to deal with the consequences of my mistakes..” He gingerly tucked a loose curl behind Stanley’s ear, softly adding on with a feeling of shame flooding his head, “…It should’ve been me.”

Mabel’s head immediately shot up at Dipper’s words, a glare on her wet face as she shot back with a low warning tone, “Dipper Lee Pines.” He quickly shut his mouth. Noted, she wasn’t going to take any self depreciation coming from him at the moment. Can’t say he blames her, he would’ve done the same if any self-depreciating words came from her mouth.

Stanley muffled something against Mabel’s neck instantly making the two stop what they were doing to turn to him. “What was that baby?” Mabel gently asked as Dipper continued to rub his back. The young boy pulled himself away from Mabel’s neck ever so slightly, taking in a deep shaky breath as he shakily repeated himself.

“…n-not Lee-”

The older twins' brows furrow, their hands stilling slightly as it was Dipper’s turn to softly question, “What are you talking about Stanley?”

The brunet pulls his trembling form away from Mabel to stand up, wiping his wet face with his arm, his cheeks so flushed from sobbing that his faint freckles were easily seen against the red. He stood still for a moment, trying to calm his breathing before he stepped between the sitting pair of twins and towards his kneeling brother.

He took in the sight of him for a moment, a sick feeling in his stomach as his trembling hands tentatively grab onto the glasses on his unconscious brother’s face, his touch light as a feather and careful, as if he was afraid his brother would shatter if his finger even as so much grazed him. He carefully pulled the glasses off and stared down at them in his hands, a fresh wave of silent tears falling from his cheeks and onto the cracked glass lenses.

“I-I’m… I’m n-not…” He shakily whispers, voice caught in his throat as he tries to get the words out. He gingerly lifted the glasses to his face and placed them onto his red nose, his fingers gripping the temples of the glasses as he hesitantly turned around. His wet brown eyes locked with his kneeling great-uncle and great-aunt, the kid’s gaze drowning in guilt as Stanford hesitantly continued on with his wobbling voice, “…I-I’m not S-Stanley.”

The two froze at those words, Mabel's bewildered gaze kept whipping her gaze between Stanford and Stanley, quickly growing distressed while Dipper felt a deep pit form in his stomach.

He’s so stupid, it should’ve been obvious but in all the chaos he didn’t even think to check. In the moment of peace he finally saw the differences.

The six fingers and the way his eyes squinted without his glasses should’ve been a dead giveaway, but there were also other signs as well.

Stanley had told Dipper not too long ago that his tooth was knocked out the second day the twins showed up. Apparently it was knocked loose when he fell face first into the dirt while fleeing with Stanford from a vampire, after his brother had hid the 3rd journal away from Stanley all day, taking ‘Trust No One’ Dipper had scrambled onto that in a paranoid panic to heart.

Stanford just lost his tooth not even 30 minutes ago. When the boys had begun to argue on the Zodiac Wheel Stanley couldn’t take it anymore and decked Stanford to the ground. Dipper remembers the immediate regret that flashed onto the young boy’s face when his brother spat out a bloody tooth onto the floor, opening his mouth to try and apologize but was unable to get a word out before Stanford quickly punched him back, causing the infamous fight between the two.

Stanford still had some speckles of dried blood on his chin, a reminder of that awful fight.

The two had faint freckles dusting their face but Stanley was the only one who had freckles on his shoulders.

The bandaid on Stanford’s face was falling off, as if it was peeled off and slapped onto his face.

Mabel let out a weak and breathless noise of confusion, brows furrowed and clearly overwhelmed by everything happening in such a short time. “W-Wha-? How-?”

Dipper cut his sister off. She was barely keeping it together as is, and while he was also extremely upset he had a lot of practice suppressing these kinds of emotions to survive in the multiverse. He can take over for a moment just so Mabel can take a moment to breathe.

“Stanford… what happened?” Dipper questioned, a comforting hand on his twin’s shoulder as his furrowed gaze met Stanley’s. Despite how intense he looked, there was a softness in his voice. A quiet plea for his great-nephew to tell him what the hell is going on.

Stanford’s watery eyes stayed locked with the ground, looking almost as overwhelmed and weary as Mabel did while his hands fidgeted against his stomach. “W-When you two started getting c-chased Bill I…” His breathing hitched. “…I didn’t know what to d-do, I was just so s-scared.”

One of his finger’s lifted to his lip as he unconsciously began to chew the skin off the side of it, a habit Mabel has been fighting tooth and nail for Ford to quit through the entire Summer.

Not that she can really bring herself to care at the moment.

Stanford looked increasingly distressed as he continued. “I-I was panicking, I always know w-what to do and I just I couldn’t t-think of anything! I thought my h-head was going to explode when-” He takes in a sharp breath, more tears beginning to well up in his eyes. “…w-when Stanley said he had a plan.”

Stanford was trying to wipe away the thick tears off his face, his cheeks irritated and red from how often he's been rubbing away tears. “E-Everything went so fast. He was explaining the p-plan as fast as he could while we swapped clothes. Said we were going to p-pull off our best con yet. Tricking Bill into S-Stan’s mind by convincing him it was m-mine and then erasing him for g-good.”

“I t-tried to ask why we were d-doing all of this… Stanley could've just erased my mind after I let B-Bill in and e-everything would just end, but Stanley… S-Stanley didn’t budge. He s-said it had to be him. Said I… S-Said I actually had a future.” Ford breathing hiccups, shoulders hiking up to his neck as even more even more tears run down his cheeks and to the grass below. “A-A-And I was j-just so scared I… I let him… I let h-him take my place…”

A choked sob rips from his throat, unable to take it anymore as he covers his face with his polydactyl hands, continuing to explain through the tears and shaky speech. “O-One of the last things I ever d-did was punch h-him in the face! I never t-told him I was s-sorry! He DIED thinking I h-hated him!”

Dipper immediately jumped into action, pushing himself over to Ford and pulling his hands away from his face. He rested his forehead against his great-nephew’s and held onto his smaller hands, keeping his eyes on Stanford’s as he firmly spoke. “Breathe with me Stanford. In and out.”

It took a moment but the kid’s breathing slowed ever so slightly as he tried to mimic Dipper’s breaths though he was still unable to control the hiccuping and sniffling.

“You didn’t kill Stanley.” Dipper continued to speak, his tone softening considerably as he gently squeezed Ford’s polydactyl hand with his larger one. “He’s alive and breathing right behind you.”

The kid began to look frustrated as he lowly choked out, “He might as well be.”

Dipper… couldn’t exactly retort that. By all means Stanley would be a shell of his former self, fundamentally a completely different person when he wakes up. However, he wasn’t going to let his great-nephew wallow like this. He gently squeezed his hands once more and softly questioned, “…Do you really think Stanley would hate you after all of this?”

Stanford froze at the question, only the sound of rustling leaves and birds chirping to be heard as the brunet boy’s eyes stayed locked with Dipper’s before letting it fall to the dirt below. After a couple quiet moments Stanford finally mumbled out. “He should.”

“But would he?”

“….” Ford couldn’t reply, a bittersweet and melancholic feeling flooding his heart.

As if on cue, a faint noise was suddenly made behind the three of them.

Everyone whirled their heads over to where Stanley sat kneeling on the grass. His brown eyes blearily began to open as he raised his hand up to idly rub them. The faint freckles on his cheeks and his brown curls were dusted in the warm light of the sun. A yawn fell from his lips, tiny tears pricking the corners of his eyes from the deep breath, before he finally opened his eyes completely.

His brown eyes blinked away sleep, his gaze slowly darting between the three people also kneeling on the grass in front of him, not saying a word yet, just taking them in.

Dipper and Ford waited with baited breath, words stuck in their throats as they stared back at Stan, trying to find any familiarity in his eyes.

Mabel couldn’t wait a single second longer.

“…S-Stanley? Lee?” She softly questioned, tears beginning to well up in her eyes again as she gingerly crawled closer to him. “H-Hey my little firecracker! You r-remember me right? Your lovable Grunkle Mabel!” Her hands raise up to cup Stanley’s round cheeks, her smile a little wobbly but her brown eyes filled with a ray of hope. “You remember me, d-don’t you pumpkin?”

Stanley just stared blankly at his great-aunt, completely silent for a moment before his brows furrow. He tilts his head, confusion clearly seen in his blank eyes as he bluntly asks, “Who are you?”

Mabel’s heart might as well have shattered into a million pieces. The tears welling up in her eyes freely fall but the wobbly smile refuses to fall. One hand raises to run through his messy curls as the other continues to cup his face. “W-What are you talking about sweetheart? It’s me, Stanley, It’s Mabel.”

Dipper sprung forward and gently began to pull Mabel away from Stanley, that pit in his stomach growing even more as his sister tried to weakly yank herself out of his grasp while crying out, “It’s me, Stanley! It’s me!” He squeezed her in his arms as her cries turned to sobs, burying her face against Dipper’s chest as she finally let out all the pain she’s been keeping in her chest since the moment Weirdmageddon had begun.

“It’s no use Mabel, Stanley doesn’t remember anything.” Dipper softly spoke. He hugged her close and rested his cheek on the top of her head, her silver curls brushing against his skin as his brown eyes locked with Stanley. The kid looked so confused and lost, a sight that just made his heart ache even more. “…Stanley doesn’t even realize it, but he just saved the world… Saved us… Our little hero…”

Stanley brows were furrowed, not understanding anything that was going on in the slightest. He glanced over at where Stanford was standing, lifting up his hand to cup his mouth and loudly stage whisper to the brunet, “What’s up with the old guys?”

Stanford didn’t answer, just staring at Stanley with large globs of tears dripping down his cheeks. Without warning he sprinted to his brother, engulfing Stanley in a tight hug and hiding his face in his neck. The impact of the tackle hug almost knocked the two to the floor but Stanley managed to keep himself propped up with one arm, brown eyes wide with shock as even more confusion filled his fuzzy mind. “W-Woah, okay-! We’re hugging now, I guess!”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry-” Stanford kept repeating those words over and over against his brother’s neck, his body trembling from just how hard he was crying.

Stanley had no clue what the hell was happening. He was in a place he’s never seen before, surrounded by strangers sobbing their eyes out, and he was realizing that he couldn’t really remember what his name was again. A part of him was telling him he should just book it, get away from these weirdos, but something in him refused to let him.

Maybe it was because they all genuinely looked so sad. He didn’t know who they were but his heart sorta ached at their grief-stricken appearances, kind of wanting to comfort them in some way.

Maybe he’s a bleeding heart, he can’t really remember if he is.

Stanley shuffled a little in Stanford’s tight grasp until finally something kinda heavy was laid onto the sobbing child’s shoulders. Stanford tentatively lifted his wet face from his brother’s neck to peer behind him.

It was his leather bomber jacket. Stanley had subtlety slipped off the jacket, careful not to jostle the crying kid too much, then plopped it onto his shoulders.

“You looked like you needed it more than me.” Stanley spoke, an awkward but kind smile on his face. He then quickly shrugged it off and added on with a casual tone, “Besides, I was gettin’ warm in that thing, you can just keep it.”

Stanford sharply inhaled at those words, polydactyl hands letting go of Stanley to grip at the jacket draped over his shoulders and pull it even closer, acting as if it was a barrier that could protect him from the world around him. A choking sob ripped from Stanford’s throat, hiding his face against his brother’s neck once again.

“Okay! We’re still crying!” Stanley awkwardly sputtered out, tensing up as the brunet continued to cry against his neck, unsure of what he should be doing. Eventually he settled on tentatively patting the crying kid’s back, hoping that he was actually comforting the kid and not making whatever was happening worse.

“I s-shouldn’t have pushed you a-away because I was t-told to! You w-were never a burden! I-I don’t hate you! I n-never did!” Stanford kept crying apologizes against Stanley’s shoulder, making the already confused brunet boy even more lost with every word spoken. His hand continued to pat on Ford’s back as he softly replied, his words tentative and unsure, “…I don’t hate you either.”

“Yes you do.” Stanford thickly replied against his brother's shoulder, completely and utterly convinced in his distraught state that his brother would absolutely hate him if he could remember what Ford did to him.

Stanley couldn’t exactly reply to that because he genuinely didn’t know if he did hate this kid. He didn’t even know who he was. So instead of responding he just continued to rub the brunet’s back, hoping to ease the hyperventilation sobs buried against his skin.

It took a handful of long moments filled with silence and tears for the three to compose themselves, Dipper being the first to finally stand up.

“…We’ve been wallowing here long enough, people are going to get worried.”

Dipper gingerly pulls Mabel to her feet, tears had stopped falling from her face but her cheeks red and her famous smile no longer present. He made sure his sister was steady on her feet before holding out his hand to the twin boys huddled together on the ground, a small weary smile on his wrinkled face.

“Come on… let’s go home.”

The twins pull themselves up with Dipper’s help. Once on their feet Ford latches onto Stan’s arm, sticking to his side and refusing to let go. Stanley doesn’t seem to mind or even notice the clinging presence as his brown eyes look up at the sky and over the tall trees with curious wonder.

Dipper softly sighed and eyed over the fascinated brunet looking over the tree line with concern, “Are your muscles alright, Stanley? No issues with walking or standing?”

The kid didn’t respond for a moment, still looking around before he finally registered that he was being spoken to. His brown eyes darted around before he pointed at himself with his free hand. “Oh! Am I Stanley?”

Dipper felt a stab in his chest at the question, but still gently replied, “Yeah… you’re Stanley.”

Stanley nodded at the confirmation and softly said ‘Staaaanley’ under his breath, getting accustomed to the unfamiliar name.

“Stanley… cool name! I like it!” He cheerfully replied, a wide smile spreading across his face that showed off his missing tooth. “And my legs are fine, I think.” He used his free hand to grab onto Dipper’s hand and loudly added on, “Now lead the way, old man!”

Dipper sighed and squeezed onto Stanley’s hand, gently guiding him through the woods back to the Shack, never forgetting the route home even after all these years.

The twins were parallels of each other as they walked. Mabel was clinging onto her brother’s arm and leaning her head against his shoulder while Stanford was doing the same with his brother. The air was so tense and gloomy around the four, affecting all but Stanley.

Stanley was looking around the woods as they walked, his brown eyes full of innocent wonder as he mumbled under his breath about ‘Never seeing trees this big’.

When they made it back to the Shack Dipper could only wince at the state it was in. It was falling apart and damaged from the battle during Weirdmageddon, the damage unable to be reversed even after the apocalypse had ended.

“The Shack…” Mabel sadly lamented under her breath, the sight of the place she spent 30 years making into a home and business just adding onto her already overwhelming amount of sadness.

Dipper was about to try and comfort her when he noticed 3 figures standing in front of the shack. After a moment the three started to sprint towards the family, frames becoming clearer as they got closer.

It was Anjelita, Boyish Dan, and Fiddleford.

“Are you guys alright?!” Boyish Dan loudly asked with his booming voice before he even reached the family. Anjelita was silently but swiftly following behind him, her hand gripping her Abuelo’s cap so it wouldn't fly off her head and her eyes filled with concern. Fiddleford was tripping over his feet from how fast he was sprinting, Dipper was mildly concerned the accident prone teen was going to trip over a branch or rock and slam face first against the ground.

He didn’t trip, thankfully. The small blond teen stumbled to a stop in front of the family, specifically the younger set of twins, panting heavily. “Thank the lord y’all are alright! I thought y'all had gotten trapped under somethin’ or hurt or worse!” Fiddleford anxiously rambled on, clearly having thrown himself into a tizzy over his friend's safety.

Stanley’s brows furrowed at the new faces, especially the long nosed southern one right in front of him. He raised an eyebrow and looked over the blond with an untrusting gaze. “…You’re not going to hug me and cry too, are you?”

Fiddleford looked bewildered at the question, blinking in confusion as he asked, “Now why on’ earth would I do that?”

Before Stanley or someone else in the family could reply, Anjelita spoke up from beside Boyish Dan. “His memory was erased, correct?”

The family, minus Stanley, flinched at the question.

Anjelita was a very observant young lady, so it makes sense she would be the first to notice.

Fiddleford and Boyish Dan kinda tensed up at the question. They also saw what happened while they were trapped in the tapestries, but they had hoped that maybe…

“That really stuck? He doesn’t remember anything?” Boyish Dan questioned.

“Nothin’ at all?” Fiddleford softly added.

Dipper wordless shook his head and a solemn silence covered them all.

The three followed the family into the dilapidated Mystery Shack, everyone looking over the cracks and debris with melancholy and sadness on their faces. Well, all but Stanley.

Stanley excitedly jumped up as they all entered the run down living room. “Wow, nice place you have here!” The brunet ripped away from Stanford and Dipper’s grasp, the suddenness making Stanford weakly try and latch back onto his brother for just a moment before giving up and wrapping his arms around his stomach. The boy then ran full speed at the dusty recliner. Stan always loved that chair would steal it from Mabel whenever he had a chance.

He jumped onto the seat and laughed as he bounced a little before settling down. “Lovin’ this chair! I just sink into this thing!”

He opened his brown eyes and saw everyone standing at the edges of the room, the miserable air of sadness weighing so heavy on the room he could feel it pressing against his skull. Stanley limply leaned back in the chair, a faint look of annoyance on his face as he bluntly questioned, “Geez, am I at a funeral? Who died and turned you all into sad sacks.”

No one answered.

Fiddleford turned to the group, going to lift his finger to bite on it only to stop himself when he realized he was doing it. Instead the blond lifted up his chewlery necklace and began to bite on it instead, his nerves shot as he desperately asked, “Surely there must be ah’ way to reverse this!”

“No, there isn’t.” Stanford replied, not even bothering to look up from the floor, looking extremely tired and downright miserable as he hugged his jacket closer.

Fiddleford whips around to Stanford, exasperation and agitation clear on his face as he yells back, “There's gotta’ be!”

Dipper softly sighed, defeat dripping from his voice as he gently replied. “I’m sorry, Fiddleford. There isn’t anything we can do for Stanley. No one can come back from something like this.”

Anjelita perks up from the besides Boyish Dan, counteracting Dipper’s statement with a simple, “Miss Candy.”

“W-What?” Dipper questioned, blinking up at her in confusion.

The large red-headed teen jolted and jumped up at the reminder.

“That’s right! Kooky Candy got her memories back during that whole weird secret society adventure!”

Fiddleford looked up at Dipper with hope and desperation in his green eyes, hands trembling from the reminder of that awful day and his shot nerves. “Y-Yeah! An’ Miss Candy’s mind was cracked ‘cause of tha’ memory gun!”

The blond points to Stanley sitting on the recliner, the confused brunet just staring at the group with furrowed brows, not taking in anything that they’re saying. “Lee still gotta’ chance!”

Dipper is quiet for a moment, brain running a mile a minute. When he finally speaks up again his voice is low and unsure.

“… I’m not going to say it's going to work,”

His eyes meet his sister’s, her sad brown eyes filled with a glimmer of hope at the thought of being able to save her little firecracker.

“But I’m not going to say it’s impossible either.”

He racked his brain once more, trying to think of a solution, an answer that has a high probability of working.

“…Maybe if we had something that could jog his memory-”

Mabel suddenly gasped, eyes wide as she squeezes Dipper’s arm, her grip tight. “My scrapbook!”

She then quickly rushes to a desk near the table, glitter and shimmering pieces of paper fluttering out as her hands rummaged in one of the drawers. She let out a loud ‘Aha!’ And pulled out a pink and very sparkly scrapbook.

“It’s not going to work.” Stanford bluntly mumbled, defeat and sorrow clinging to his small frames.

“Not with that attitude!” The old woman quickly shoots back, not letting anything snuff out her freshly burning glimmer of hope in her chest.

She quickly ran back over to Stanley, the rest of the group, minus Stanford, following suit. She placed the glimmering book onto the confused child’s lap, the front labeled ‘Summer of 2012’ in sparkly glitter pen.

“I’ve been working on this book since the day you two arrived!” Mabel offhandedly explained while opening it to the first page. Pasted in the middle of that page was a cute photo of Stanley and Stanford unpacking their bags. Stan was making a silly face at the camera while Ford had not realized the photo was being taken, too busy hanging up his Nikola Tesla poster with a concentrated face. Stickers and other miscellaneous crafting objects were glued to the page. “Here’s the first day you two arrived!” She then pointed at about 4 to 6 small pieces of wood taped to the page. “And those are the splinters you got stuck in your hand when trying to unpack!”

Stanley furrowed his brow at that, very confused on why she would keep something like that but not having a chance to ask before she pointed to the next thing.

The next photo on the page was Stanford and Stanley looking a tiny bit scratched up and tired. Ford was looking away from the camera and into the inner pocket of his jacket, excitement shining in his eyes as he stared at the journal he had found in the woods that day that was poking out of his jacket ever so slightly. Stanley was also excited but for a very different reason. His eyes were wide with excitement, his equally wide smile showing off the space in his teeth where his tooth was knocked out. The missing tooth was being held very close to the camera, still covered in small flecks of blood.

“And here’s you losing your tooth the very next day!”

Next to the photo was also a small tooth taped onto the paper, assumedly Stanley’s baby tooth that was knocked out. He especially wanted to ask why she had scrapbooked that but was once again cut off, no one except him finding this old woman strange in the slightest.

Fiddleford had leaned over and flipped the page. On the page was a photo of Fiddleford, Stanley, and Stanford all huddled together on one of the boy’s beds, all of them wearing pajamas. Stanford and Stanley seemed to both be talking at the same time, talking over each other while Fiddleford looked a little nervous and overwhelmed, but a smile very clearly seen on his face as he was squished between the twins.

“Tha’s the first time I spent tha’ night after we ‘came friends! After I, uh, ya’ know, tried to kill ya’ with a giant robit-”

Boyish Dan pointed at the next page. The twins were wearing 70s themed dancing clothes, disco lights shining on the two as they stood alone on a dance floor. The boys were covered in punch but still smiling while sideways hugging. Stanford in particular looked a little tired and had a bruise or two.

“Your guy’s 13th birthday party? A bunch of power hungry Ford clones causing so much trouble we pulled the fire alarm and set off the sprinklers?

He then pointed at two carnival tickets taped onto the page next to a photo of Boyish Dan’s grappling both of the twins under his arms and lifting them high into the air, standing in front of a carnival as the warm afternoon light washed over them. Dan was laughing maniacally while Ford looked shocked, grabbing onto Dan’s large arm looking at the ground nervously, as if he was afraid of being dropped. Stanley also looked shocked but not in the same way Stanford did. Stan’s face was bright red and he looked like he was trying to laugh off being picked up so suddenly.

“How about the carnival? You tried that ‘test your strength’ game while Ford did that ‘guess how many jellybeans are in this jar’ game and both failed at them?”

Anjelita softly spoke up next to Boyish Dan as he turned the page. A picture of Stanley all dressed up was pasted onto the page. He was wearing a black suit, a red fez with the same symbol that’s on his sweater Mabel made him, an eye patch, and an 8-Ball cane. He had his eye patch flipped up and was winking at the camera, fully showing off his showman persona. Next to that photo was another one, this time depicting Stanley and Stanford sitting in a booth with Anjelita and her grandparents. Stanley and Anjelita’s Abuelo, Soos, were scarfing down a pizza slice as fast as they could, assumedly in a race to see who could eat it faster. Stanford was looking at his brother with mild disgust and concern while Anjelita’s Abuela, Melody, was excitedly cheering on her husband. Anjelita was sitting at the table leaning her chin on her hand, a soft amused smile on her lips.

“The time you were the boss of the Mystery Shack for a day? The arcade with the killer robots?”

Dipper had his hand on Mabel’s shoulder, carefully questioning, “Is any of this ringing a bell? Anything at all?”

Everyone, minus Stanford, were crowding Stanley, all in his personal space and making the dazed child even more confused. On edge and gripping the scrapbook tightly, furrowed brown eyes completely void of familiarity as he looked over the group.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Stanley began, quickly looking down as he slammed the scrapbook closed. “But none of this is making any sense to me! You keep talking to me like I know who you are, but I don’t!”

The hope in the group died at Stanley’s outburst, all of their enthusiasm fading and disappearing entirely in record time.

“Told you.” Stanford softly mumbled from the other side of the room, despondent and hugging himself tight while leaning against the wall, utter exhaustion seeping into his bones.

Stanley shifted uncomfortably in the recliner, that bubbling sense of guilt building in his stomach and his chest once again at the sight. He doesn’t even know these people but he doesn’t want to see them upset. Guess he really is a bleeding heart. He’s learning something new about himself every second.

The brunet sighed, idly rubbing his round cheeks as he quietly added on, his voice much softer than before, “Look… I’m sorry I don’t remember… I really am…”

“It’s alright Stanley, it’s not your fault.” Dipper gently replied, unaware of the way Stanford flinched at those words behind him.

There was a depressing and strained silence hanging over the group afterwards, no one really knowing what else to say after their hopeful attempt was proven to be pointless.

Then all of a sudden hot air and a snorting noise tickled Stanley’s left ear.

The kid whirled his head at the noise only to come face to face with a big old pig with a collar around its neck, along with a name tag that Stanley couldn’t read from where he was sitting. The two just stare at each other for a couple seconds, blank stare to blank stare, until it was finally broken by the pig hopping up and getting closer to Stanley, trying to chew on his brown curls.

Stanley squealed with surprise and tried to push the massive pig away, Mabel weakly laughing on her knees at the antics, her mind flashing to all the times Waddles has lovingly bothered her great-nephew the entire time he’s been here. She was about to tell her beloved pet to stop messing with Stanley when the kid beat her to the punch.

“Augh! Waddles! How many times have I told you to stop trying to eat my hair!”

Everyone froze, even Stanford’s head whirled over at Stanley’s words.

“…What did he say?” Ford asked, his voice laced in disbelief.

Stanford initially didn’t want to think there was a chance for Stanley to remember, figuring that this was going to be his punishment. Forever mourning someone who’s not even dead, someone he all but killed. But when Stanley spoke Waddles name, something he shouldn’t remember, felt that little ball of hope he’s been trying so hard to suppress in his chest reemerge.

Now Waddles was trying to lick Stanley’s cheek, making the boy squeal even more.

“I said get Waddles off me, Sixer!”

A small breathless laugh left Dipper’s throat as ran his hands through his silver curls, a hopeful disbelief in his eyes. “…It’s working.”

Stanford suddenly sprinted up to the group, grabbing onto his Great-Aunt’s arm from where she’s kneeling in front of Stanley and holding her scrapbook. “Keep reading, Grauntie Mabel.” His gaze serious, but his voice a soft plea.

Mabel had to quickly blink a couple times and bring herself back to reality, adrenaline beginning to pump in her veins at the prospect that this was working. She jumped to her feet, not even wavering as her knees creaked at the sudden movement, and called out to everyone in the room, “Story time!”

She grabbed onto Stanley, that classic Mabel smile was back on her face as she easily lifted him up and sat down where he was sitting on the recliner, pulling the frazzled boy onto her lap. She reached out and yanked Dipper to her as well, making him sit right next to her on the recliner. It was a bit of a tight squeeze but thankfully the two twins had always been on the lankier side so they made it work.

Dipper held his hand out to Stanford, helping him up and pulling him onto his lap, paralleling his sister next to him. Stanford’s immediately pressed against Stanley’s side, polydactyl hand instinctively slipping into his and squeezing like his life depended on it.

Boyish Dan and Anjelita leaned more on the farther back sides of the recliner while Fiddleford jumped up and sat on the armrest closest to Mabel, the blond pressing himself against Stanley’s other side.

Stanley was now completely surrounded once again, being hugged and squeezed and picked up by these strangers. However this time he didn’t get annoyed or uncomfortable at the attention. Instead there was this familiar warmth in his chest, like he was always meant to be held like this. He can’t really describe what caused that shift.

Maybe these guys are right, maybe he is remembering.

Stan allows himself to relax in the arms of the older woman and against the two kids pressing against either side of him, a small smile growing on his face.

“Okay okay,” Mabel began, flipping back to the first page of the scrapbook. “It all started when I got a call from my dearest older brother asking me to watch my sweet darling great-nephews for the summer, and how could I say no to having my precious little nephews all to myself for 3 months!”

Mabel began to go over every picture and every memento in the scrapbook, everyone else pitching in and adding their own commentary or laughing every once and a while, a smile on everyone’s face.

Except for Stanford.

Stanford was looking intensely at his twin, waiting anxiously for the moment Stanley finally remembered him.

A part of him was excited, the other was dreading it.

The moment his brother remembers what happened, what Ford did to him, their bond is going to completely shatter and Stanley is going to want nothing to do with him anymore. No more late night talks, no more covering for each other, no more getting into trouble. Stanford wouldn’t be surprised if Stanley wanted to cut him out of his life completely after this after what he did. Stanford wouldn’t even blame him. He deserves it after all.

Then he saw it and his heart stopped in his chest.

Stanley rapidly blinked for a second, a familiar shine in his brown eyes as he turned to look at Stanford, recognition and understanding in his stare for the first time since the end of Weirdmageddon.

The two stared silently as Mabel continued to talk, everyone’s words muffling into background noise.

Stanford wasn’t going to beg for forgiveness. His eyes weren’t filled with sorrow or guilt. They were steady, completely prepared for anything Stanley threw at him, knowing whatever it was he deserved it.

Stanley’s eyes were filled with that familiar shine but no emotion showed on his face as his stare bore into his twin, completely silent as the two eyes stayed locked.

Then Stanley did something Stanford wasn’t expecting. His brown eyes softened, a smile on his face as he got closer and leaned his head onto Stanford’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing over his twin’s polydactyl knuckles the same way their mother would do whenever she tried to calm them down when they were much smaller.

Stanford was tense, completely frozen. He was expecting yelling, punching, blaming, or even something as simple as wordlessly pulling his hand away, but he wasn’t expecting forgiveness.

He didn't deserve this. Stanley should hate his guts. Despise him and push him away just like Stanford was doing most of the summer.

Ford’s body didn’t untense, but he did slowly rest his head on top of Stan’s, squeezing his brother's hand as if it was his life line, his thoughts swirling in his mind like a hurricane.

He didn’t deserve Stanley’s forgiveness.

Or was it pity?

It must be pity.

It has to be.

Mabel was still speaking as she leaned down and rested her chin onto Stanley, Dipper doing the same with Stanford. A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped everyone in the room. Everyone but Stanford, who instead felt a sickening feeling of guilt deep in his chest.

Stanford didn’t deserve this. This kindness.

So he swore right then and there that he was going to spend the rest of his life atoning for what he did, staying by his twin’s side to make sure nothing would never, ever, hurt his brother ever again.

Or until the day Stanley wises up and realizes that Stanford wasn’t worth his pity, that he’s too good to have a coward like him for a brother.

Whatever came first.

🌻🌱🌤️~~~~~~~~~~~~🌦️🛡️🥀

Hope you liked it!! It was fun to write when my thumbs weren’t hurting from typing on my phone for 6 hours straight lmao 💥💥💥

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