#trauma panic does a number on you

[ryoki-ph]

i'm so much integrated and chillin it finally feels fuckin GREAT to be one person for me honestly. thought dump in all atags

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (14) - Does it Always End in Ruin?

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 14 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,980

Work count for Story: 107,440

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, a scenting session with hints of a panic attack, comfort, possessiveness, angst, and mentions of giving aphrodisiac-laced chocolates to Jungkook without his knowledge. There are also nightmares containing mentions of past trauma, violence, abuse, and threats of death.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

You can scent me in the car.

You… can… scent… me… in… the… car…

It’s not like he is gonna do anything untoward– right?

Your body flushes with thoughts of the many ways the scenting session could go “wrong,” like pinning you in the corner against the door and backseat, ravishing your neck in a way that ensures you have a mark that anyone can see.

Following the hyper-focused Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack to allow him to scent you in a car like you both were some horny teenagers with no control makes the walk through the Gala a blur.  

With how firmly Namjoon holds your hand and guides you with determination, you aren’t the only one feeling it, right?

But what would the rest of the pack think? 

Your mind was going from things that were not safe for work while simultaneously trying to throw on the breaks.

You were too much in your head battling away the thoughts you shouldn’t be having for a mated man, much less a mated man at a public event with other hybrids that you were 100000000% could smell just what you were thinking of. 

MATED MAN!

Your mind is yelling at you, coming through like a spotty radio, while your body is thrumming with the charged atmosphere that now encapsulates the two of you.

You could be making this up and reading into things too much. You did that in high school, which is why you started shying away from skinship. Who wouldn’t after getting humiliated day in and day out about being an attention-seeking fat whore in the cafeteria with no help from the staff?

Whatever, back to the issue at hand. He has mates waiting for him to come home. You should excuse yourself to the bathroom and call one of them. 

Jin would be a good phone call, and he is the oldest. 

Then there is Yoongi, who is almost powerful enough to be the Prime himself. 

Taehyung is supposed to be helping right now; maybe he… he can… Agh! What teleport to the Gala and leave with Namjoon instead of you?

No, you already let Jimin’s Alpha scent you at your packhouse. Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook intentionally scented you, with permission, in your current bedroom, which means Namjoon should be able to scent you in a car. 

They all have said they want skinship, and you said you would be willing to try. Now get it together, woman!

Besides, you told Hoseok that everyone deserves a second chance. This is Namjoon’s second chance. You have never turned away someone in need before, and clearly, whatever Lee Min Ho did triggered Alpha Joon to come out, and he needs the scenting session to calm down. 

You were their Playmate, which meant supporting the emotional needs of your assigned hybrid(s) was also part of your job.

The next thing you feel is Namjoon letting go of your hand, which brings you out of your internal argument as he drapes your cape over your shoulders. You watch him as he secures the closure and fusses with it to make sure it is lying correctly.

You are searching for anything to tell you exactly where he is with any of this. You notice the rigid set of his jaw, which hasn’t relaxed since you saw him at the start of the dance with Min Ho. His breaths are almost a perfect count of seven in and seven out, which means he is doing that for a reason. 

When he looks at you again, those forest green eyes are dark and piercing. It’s like time freezes; unlike his even breaths, yours seems to be caught. You can see so many emotions moving behind those eyes, but they are flashing so fast, and you don’t know him well enough to tell what they are before they are gone. 

“Prime Alpha, sir, ma’am, your car is here,” says Jen. Startling you like she came out of thin air. Smiling at Jen and moving towards the car, you hear Namjoon speak with her in hushed tones. 

Now that you can breathe again, you take some cleansing breaths before you climb into the car and buckle up. Scenting is simple. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. 

You are in a car, for god’s sake. 

As you smooth out your skirt, Namjoon gets in on the other side of the car. Careful not to touch you, he turns to face you, his calculating eyes searching your form. You can hear Jen get in the front, but the partition is up.

Licking your lips out of nerves, you hear a low growl next to you. Suddenly, the world outside the car looks fantastic as the car starts the drive back. 

“Y/n.”

Hearing your name said in Alpha Joon’s deepened voice causes your heart to flutter and your eyes to close. You said scenting was okay, and YOU offered to do it in the car. You weren’t raised to go back on your word, nor have you ever left someone in need. 

Since Namjoon is a temporary pack for you, you couldn’t deny a packmate a scenting session. It must be the Luna part of you that wouldn’t let you.

“Alpha,” you breathe out, finally looking at him. 

The stillness in his body and the focus of his attention is something that only a predator hybrid like him can have. It almost pains you to see him so closed off and far away.

“Bergamot and sugar waves,” he says with a slight tilting of his head. “You want scenting but scared of me.”

At his words, you realize just what you have had to have been putting him through while walking from the dance floor til now. Your scent must have been a swirling chaos. 

“Not exactly, Alpha,” you vaguely answer the nonexisting question. “I am not scared of you.” 

While his shoulders drop as his tense leaves his body, his eyes narrow in further contemplation. “What of?”

“None of it is something you have to worry about, Alpha,” you smile, trying to convey that you are physically fine even if your scent says otherwise. 

“Mine,” Alpha Joon says, closing his eyes, tilting his head back and swallowing. “Worry for mine is my job. Now, what of?”

Mine. Mine. He keeps calling you “mine,” which sends a shiver down your spine every time he says it. You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to not fall into the delusion that you are his, but you want to not argue with someone as powerful as a Prime Alpha. 

“I don’t know how to give you what you need,” you answer his question in the most roundabout but truthful way possible. Your answer seems to bring his attention back to you, but it is laced with confusion this time. 

“Jungkook scents with his chin, Yoongi scents with his cheeks, but Jin and Jimin seem to do it with touching. I don’t know what you need.”

Realization dawns on his face. You can practically see the times the two of you have been near each other flash in his mind’s eye before his face falls into a pout. 

You can’t help but giggle at his pouty face, which draws his attention to you again, and he pouts harder. 

“I am sorry, Alpha,” you say, then clear your throat. “I, ah, thought that there might be a certain way a Prime Alpha or a wolf may need to scent. I am still wrapping my head around all the different ways. As a Luna, I was typically the one scenting the others.”

“Wolf scenting wrist and licks,” Alpha Joon says, looking down at his own wrists.

“Oh! Jin licked me!” you exclaim. “Well, he licked then bit me,” you continued, looking at the inside of your wrist to see if there was a mark. 

Rubbing over the area where Seokjin licked fills the air with more of your scent. The bergamot is still present but lessened, alerting Alpha Joon that you are starting to relax into the present. 

Moving slowly, telegraphing his goal, Alpha Joon takes hold of the hand you were inspecting. He rubs your wrists together with his free hand, causing his leather and vanilla to join in the mix. 

He can tell when his scent hits you because your whole body loses its tension. The hand he is holding becomes weightier in his grip. A soft smile plays on his lips with pride that you are not rejecting his skinship, scent, or bond.

“Wolves satisfied with this. Alphas need more. It’s our nature.”

“Alphas? Or Prime Alphas?” You swallow before also asking, “More how?”

His eyes trail up your arm, and it feels like fire is licking your skin. They still at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before continuing, pausing along your jaw, then settling their journey when they lock with yours.

“Alphas prefer other areas. Only ours allow intimate,” says Alpha Joon.

Heat flashes through your body and pools low in your abdomen with the memory of Alpha Kook and his ministrations to your neck. 

Breaking eye contact, you blush as you say, “I see. It makes sense.”

“Prime Alpha, more demanding. Add threat of taking mine,” Alpha Joon growls out. 

Your eyes snap back to him with a furrowed brow as you question, “Taken from you? No one in their right mind would do that right now, would they?”

“Bobat try tonight.”

Oh. OH, that is right. This whole scenting thing was because Lee Min Ho danced with you. You mentally smack your forehead against a wall. 

“Min Ho, he would not actually do anything. He was just being a good sport and dancing with me,” you try to brush off his concern.

“No,” he says sternly. “Friends with Tae-ah. Must be nice. Bobcat natural wolf enemy.”

This information, combined with the newly understood gravity of the game Lee Min Ho was playing with Namjoon while using you as the pawn, changes everything. 

Your scent changes from the bergamot of fear to the mint of anger, distinguished by the look on your face and the clench of your jaw. 

“Mad now?” Alpha Joon says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. The change in your demeanor shows him that you, at best, want to be his and, at least, don't want others to play around like that.

“Yes, I am mad now. How can someone do that to you?” you say with an attitude-driven shake of your head.

Your response wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t quite sure how to take it. He wanted to be proud because his newest mate was looking out for him, but she wasn’t necessarily looking out for herself.

“Wonder what Taehyung will think of his friend’s actions. I don’t think he will like them, but that is to be dealt with later,” you say with resolve. 

Looking back at the man beside you, the resolve shows as your scent changes, yet again, with a hint of lemon: “What do you need to fix what he has done?”

“Cover.”

“Cover? I thought you said he didn’t leave anything?” you press, leaning forward, trying to figure out what he needs to feel like his personal world is safe again. “Tell me, Alpha. What exactly will you cover?”

The direct question of a dominant feeling mate has Alpha Joon squirming a little. 

He wants to put you in your place as Prime Alpha, show you, and not tell you what he needs. He also wants to kneel at your feet and let you lean into your Luna so that he can let go of the tension he is holding because he trusts you to care for him. 

The dominant leader versus the submissive lover. Maybe he can be both?

“Cover his touch,” Alpha Joon clarifies. A flash of shock or fear or nerves flash across your face as he continues, “I saw some, not all.”

“Oh, I see.” Thinking of all the places the sneaky bobcat touched, your hand pulls out of Alph Joon’s as you say, “That is going to be hard to do in a car. That and you don’t know how to tango, Alpha.”

Quickly, Alpha Joon shakes his head, “No dancing. Only scenting touch.” He looks around the back of the car, thinking of how to put what he has to say.

“Dress scented at Gala,” he says with a slight hilt to his voice. You nod, trying to follow along with him. 

His eyes flick between your neck and thigh, “Now skin scent happen.”

It’s like you get doused with water and lit on fire simultaneously. Touching like one does in the Tango feels astronomically different when the same touch is done while not dancing. 

There is no way that you will not vibrate out of your own skin and panic if Alpha Joon continues to look at you like prey while touching you in all the places Lee Min Ho did. 

You will lose yourself and not in a good way. 

What did your therapist Ryan say to do when this happens? What would Derek and Evie say to do?

Control it. 

Take the reins and drive the motions. 

Find ways to grant permission for the next step, next touch, and next level of scenting, but will a Prime Alpha accept that? 

Can you control a Prime Alpha?

“Overthinking,” Alpha Joon interrupts your thoughts. 

“Sorry, Alpha.” 

Taking a breath, you calm your thoughts and focus on the you who can be in charge of hybrids. The you that allows your family pack to feel safe and cared for. The you that loves hybrids more than most humans. 

“Luna,” Alpha Joon states when your sweet pea, bergamot, and vanilla scent starts to weave in the car with a tang of lemon. 

“Yes, you may call me that. I won’t go back on my word. I will allow you, Alpha Joon, to calm yourself and settle your instincts by scenting my skin,” you inform him.

Smiling, the Alpha makes to pull you to him. However, you stop him with a single click of your tongue. Unbuckling yourself, you unclasp your cape and angle your body toward him. 

“Do we have an understanding, Alpha Joon? If not, you will have to wait until the pack can help settle you.”

Shaking his head almost violently, his eyes widen in panic at the thought of you not being the one to settle him. Rubbing his palms on his pants, he looks away from your eyes and turns slightly to show his neck. 

He is submitting to you. It's not a complete submission. Still, it’s a step that makes you feel safe and allows you to be bold enough to keep going.

Taking his hands in yours, you squeeze them in reassurance.

Shifting to the middle seat, the split in your dress widens. Flashing skin from your mid-thigh down, which draws his attention. It’s the same leg, the thigh and knee, where the bobcat held you in the dip as he trailed his nose along your skin at the neck.

“Eyes on me, Alpha,” you command, snapping his attention back to your face. 

“Min Ho held me in a classic hold, starting with a hand on my upper back while cradling my braced hand in his,” you inform as you slide your hand up his arm to his shoulder. “You may hold me that way as well.”

You had thought the Alpha would jump with permission to touch you. This is where you were mistaken. You may be calling the shots, but he was and is a Prime Alpha. 

Changing his grip on your braced wrist, he brings it up like he remembered from watching you. Slowly, his other hand reaches your side and slides around your waist to trail up your spine, then rests between your shoulder blades. The movement brings your body closer to him. 

You wait.

Nothing happens.

You smile gently. “Good Alpha, you are following directions,” you praise him before you lean forward, entering his personal space even more. 

“Classic Tango steps don’t have as much body contact as one would think. It’s all about flashy steps with kicks and flicks. But Lee Min Ho told me he was putting on a show, and that changes things.”

Alpha Joon's voice is confused as he tries to hold you just as instructed, but you keep coming closer. Your scent is invading. Mixing his scent with yours settles something profound within Alpha Joon’s soul. 

The words ‘keep in control’ repeat in your mind, almost creating their own tune as you try to maneuver yourself into the next hold used by the bobcat. As you lean in, you run your arm back down Alpha Joon’s and push it against the seat's backrest.

“Don’t move,” you instruct him.

“Yes, Luna,” he agrees, hinting a slight rumble. You pause momentarily, waiting to see if that rumble becomes something more. You continue when nothing happens, and his eyes remain on your face. 

Shifting to an angle facing you away from a whimper sounds but is cut off quickly. Glancing back up at the Alpha, his cheeks are dusted pink. It seems the Prime Alpha shocked himself with that sound.  

Now, you are sitting with your back to his front but not touching. 

You clasp his free hand in yours and lock your fingers with his. Your braced hand grabs the wrist against the seat and guides it to your stomach. 

Thank heavens that he cannot see your face now. 

Maintaining your posture is one thing, but not reacting to the heat emanating from him while his hand softly glides into place over your dress is not something you can control. 

It feels nerve-racking, but in the best of ways. Wait…what is going on with you? You shouldn’t be reacting like this. He is mated. You didn’t act like this with Jin, did you? 

You know what it is… it’s because of this morning. That’s right, with the shirtlessness, the feeding, the nesting room, all the suits… it’s that. 

There is nothing wrong with you. 

Nada.

You just happen to be stuck in a packhouse with wildly attractive hybrid younger men who know they can make almost every woman, even some men, creme their jeans with a savvy smile.

They are just flirty, like Derek and Lily. 

That’s all.

“Wrong,” a deep voice comes close to your ear as you are pulled backward, making your body fall against the wolf behind you and stealing your breath. “Hold like this, he did.”

“Yes, that is correct, Alpha Joon,” you agree with your eyes closed. His firm chest against your back has a warmth that is encompassing you. 

Your control of the situation is slipping; maybe you never had control in the first place. 

“Next touch, Luna?” he asks with his breath brushing your skin. 

Right next touch… next touch… what was next. Oh. Your eyes open and dart to your knee. Min Ho took you into a dip with his hand on your thigh near your knee. 

Well, there are two ways to do this. Robotically and cold or intimately and warm. Again, it’s about keeping control.

“I don’t know, Alpha. Can you be good and follow directions, or will you move Luna as you wish, like you just did?” you question.

Almost immediately, Alpha Joon tries to retreat but has nowhere to go. You are still holding his wrist and interlacing your fingers. He has become trapped between you and the door. 

“Ah, uhah! Words, Alpha Joon,” you chid softly.

“Sorry, Luna. No more. I will follow.”

“Good, now only touch where I guide you, got it?”

“Yes, Luna.”

Leaning against him more, you bring your knee up through the slit in the dress. Breathe in and out, staying in control. Covering the hand on your stomach with your braced hand, you tap it twice and move back towards your waist. 

You smile when his hand moves to stay under yours. 

Once at your waist, you slide both of your hands down to your hip and over the top of your thigh– slowly. Basking in the warmth of his hand over the dress felt terrific, but you practically melted when the heat of his hand graced your bare skin. 

Your body automatically responds in a blanket of goosebumps and a pool of dampness between your legs. It’s tantalizing and something you haven’t felt in years. 

Behind you, a soft, almost growling purr kicks up in Alpha Joon’s chest at being able to feel you without a barrier. 

You continue to guide his hand to the bend of your knee, and as firmly as you can, you say, “Min Ho sent me into a dip and secured me by holding my thigh near my knee.”

In a gravel-filled voice, Alpha Joon says, “I saw. May I?”

“Yes.”

Keeping the pace you had set, Alpha Joon’s hand slides out from under yours, farther down your leg and to the outer side. His fingers are splayed out as they clasp under your thigh at the back of your knee and squeeze. 

You, luckily, were able to control your body from jerking at the electric zing of arousal that courses through your system like his is cupping and squeezing something much more private. 

However, luckily for the hybrid behind you, your scent flashed into a heady mix of sugar, sweet peas, and vanilla. 

If Alpha Joon hadn’t already been affected by the scenting up to this point, he was now, which was making his pants very uncomfortable. His mind reeling with thoughts of what you would smell like on a night of passion.

Buzz Buzz

A huff leaves the Alpha as he answers the intercom from Jen, “Yes, Jen?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Prime Alpha, but we have been sitting at the packhouse for a few minutes,” she says timidly. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t know if you wanted the others to know you are here, however, someone keeps peeking out one of the windows.”

“Thank you, Jen. We will head inside now,” Alpha Joon informs her, releasing his hold on your leg and letting go of your hand. A blush comes over you as you realize just how into the moment the two of you had become.

Alpha Joon exits the car as you return to your original side and put on the cape again. As you are reaching for the door, it opens. You smile at the gentlemanly act Alpha Joon is showing you.

Getting out of the car, you accept his hand to help you keep steady. Smiling, you turn to thank him, “Oh. Namjoon, Thank you. I take it Alpha Joon was satisfied with the scent and stopped fronting?”

Pulling you softly and guiding your hand to lock around his arm, he leads you towards the pack house. Shaking his head, he says, “Not exactly. We are in our territory now, and no one can take you from us here.”

“Ah, I see. I am sorry the scenting wasn’t enough. I promise I will learn more to improve,” you rapidly reply, your heart sinking at the thought that you failed to comfort the Prime Alpha. 

He stops at the front door, your words halting him. “You misunderstand, Angel. You were scenting and allowed our scenting just fine. However, due to arriving at the packhouse already, we could not complete the covering, and he, well we, didn’t think you would be comfortable enough to continue.”

“Couldn’t complete?” you question as you try to replay the dance. Your eyes widen when it hits you: “My neck. Wait, why would I not be comfortable after the whole car ride?”

“The packhouse is where it went downhill, and I could have lost you. I could have lost you for the pack. I don’t deserve your attention here, Luna,” answers Namjoon. 

Not once has he looked at you during his explanation. 

He is avoiding being himself because of that one misstep. You still haven’t forgiven him, but you aren’t mean-hearted. It may take a while for you to be comfortable with him regarding unannounced scenting sessions or the random hugs that some of the others do, but right now, it is planned.

“I umm… I know you are one and the same, so he is always there, and I don’t know if this is possible, but can I talk to Alpha Joon, please?” you ask tentatively, trying to regain his attention.

He finally looks at you, his eyes curious and cautious. Slowly, they bleed from the outside in with the forest green of Namjoon’s hybrid side. 

“Hello again, Alpha Joon. Your presence has been frequent tonight, and I am glad you fronted at my request. Thank you, Alpha,” you begin, trying to convey that you are in a good mindset and not panicking or upset.

He simply nods. His curiosity and nervousness are evident in his face and body tension. 

“I may not be happy with how my position was proposed, but I will not let that affect your ability to be who you are– the Prime Alpha Wolf-Hybrid of Bangtan Pack.” 

He shakes his head, starting to deny any further action is required when you step closer. You tilt your head to the side and back, barring the area that Lee Min Ho had traced.  

You watch his attention drop to your neck from the corner of your eye, and a sneer flashes on his face before he closes his eyes to collect himself.

You will for whatever calming, reassuring scent you have to push out, not that you even know what you are doing. Softly asking, “Please finish, Prime Alpha.”

Unknown to you, your scent follows your wishes as the vanilla of the mate bond blooms with your sweet pea. It washes over the Prime Alpha as your bond solidifies more. His vanilla and leather respond in kind and blanket you.

For a moment, you both bask in the scents surrounding you. The natural reaction of being near one’s fated mate unfurls. 

Driving on almost pure instinct, Alpha Joon closes the gap. His warm, large hands grip your waist and hold you in place. His eyes are sharply watching each and every microexpression on your profile.

The second you became connected, it was like your brain went offline. 

Your arms find their place around his shoulders, sinking your good hand into the locks of silky hair at the base of his neck. Your body tingles at the feel of your fronts pressed together, making every breath like a soft caress. 

The soft puff of breath on your jawline causes you to pause. The first touch of his lips on your skin releases you from your hold. His soft, measured kisses trailing your jaw to the base of your ear feels like nothing you have felt before. 

Somewhere in your mind, alarm bells go off because this feels like more than just a scenting session. The rest of you, the part with control now, is letting go and basking in the moment.  It feels like so much, but not enough at the same time.

A gentle flick of his tongue on your earlobe triggers a shiver down your spine and a soft, almost inaudible but needy sound to escape you. 

Whispering in your ear, Alpha Joon says, “I have you, Luna. Always will.”

Those simple words feel like a world of promises. 

Adjusting his hold on you, one hand going to the back of your head to angle you into a deeper bend while the other is securing you around the waist, Alpha Joon continues his scenting of your neck. 

His plush lips feel like feathers gliding along tantalizingly. Warm and playful kisses leave a trail of embers in tandem. Nothing lasts as every movement, marking, and pressure point is brief. 

Your mind battles between wanting to stop before you go too far, angering his bonded mates, and needing something more but what you don’t know. You are in uncharted territory now. Scenting your family pack NEVER felt like this. Hell, making out with Eric never felt like this. 

��Alpha,” you whine, not entirely sure you know what you are whining for.

THUD

Muffled scuffling is heard with pained noises and an “Ow, that was my tail!”

It’s like a bucket of ice gets poured over you, snapping your senses back into reality. The once comforting and secure hold you were relaxed into becomes a cage. The lingering feel of his kisses now burns like a hot branding iron. Within seconds, your skin pales, and your scent disappears. 

Looking up at Alpha Joon, you see him glaring at the door. Taking advantage of his distraction, you push out of his hold. Stumbling back against the front door.

Even more scampering is heard, along with a few colorful words, as your unknown audience races to hide somewhere inside the pack house.

His glare softens as he looks at you; his jaw is still set, and his fists are clenched at his sides. As the seconds pass, it registers with the Alpha that you have closed off everything. Silently, he curses whoever was just behind the door.

“Y/n,” he says, stepping forward, unclenching his hands, and reaching for yours. His eyes blend back to their deep brown as he scrambles to find a way to fix this.

“Thank you for tonight, Alpha. It seems your mates are waiting for you,” you say. 

Taking one last look at the man who stole your inhibitions and released the ardor you thought you had lost, you grab the door handle. Bowing, you feel your heart clench and your throat tighten as you whisper, “Good night, Namjoon.” 

Before he can say anything or do anything, you are inside the packhouse and in your room. You close the door with a slam and fall against it. 

For the first time in forever, you allow yourself to cry. No, not cry, but weep. Weep for what you don’t know. Was it getting caught with Namjoon? Was it for falling out of a position of control? Was it for the child you lost? Was it for every heartbreak you have experienced?

You don’t know how long you stay there on the floor in a crumbled gown, tacks of mascara dried on your cheeks, and numbness blanketing every inch.  

The packhouse is silent. You know the pack must have heard you, but you don’t have enough left to acknowledge that right now. 

With stiff limbs, you stand up and make your way to the bathroom. Taking off your heels along the way, leaving there wherever the land. Your earrings end up on the bathroom counter, at least. 

Getting ready for bed, washing your face, and the rest of the routine are robotic. Walking back into the bedroom, you make to climb into your bed, but what you see stops you in your tracks. 

There is a carefully made nest against the wall– Jimin. 

He mentioned that he might make a nest for you to come home to. You sit on the edge of the mattress to observe the time and attention that went into making it. The center is filled with pillows of different sizes. The wall is covered with even more to protect you from its hardness. You note the intricate weaving of blankets around the edge in seven colors. 

It’s a clear representation of their mate-bonded pack. It’s perfect, just like they are. Crawling in the middle of it will ruin it. 

You already have ruined enough tonight. 

Looking around the room, you decided to sleep in the sitting window. Curling into yourself, making yourself as small as you can, you cry again, but this time, the sobs are silent, and the tears are dry.

The Packhouse living room had been set up like a movie theater. After seeing your pictures in the group chat, they all wanted to watch you and Namjoon walk the carpet together. They had popcorn and sodas and cuddled together, waiting and watching. 

Constant commentary flowed as they watched others on the carpet before the two of you were first spotted. The world seems to slow once they see you– their newest mate. You looked every bit the perfect mate they knew you were. 

You were wise with your choice of words. You knew when to speak up or let Namjoon guide the conversation. Your smile and giggles made each one wish they were with you instead of their Prime Alpha. 

It wasn’t left unnoticed how you seemed to charm everyone, gaining flirtatious comments from interviewers and even the occasional unwarranted extended hugs from other stars. How Namjoon kept his cool was beyond everyone else. 

Maybe it was a good idea that he was the only one there. 

Taehyung was already making a mental list of all the people to disregard in future interviews for disrespecting their claim on you. He wasn’t the only one. As a pack of Alphas, it was nearly impossible for them not to want to bite off anyone’s hand that touched you. 

“She is doing really well,” comments Hoseok. He was worried the most because of your insecurities about being photographed. Having experienced self-image issues in the past, he knows how hard they are to deal with.

“I think her team was constructive with that aspect. They made getting ready for this event so much fun for her,” Yoongi says. 

Jungkook nods in agreement, “They were talking about trying to find a way to make Bethany Ann’s team her permanent prep-team for events and such.”

“Really? She liked them that much?” asked Seokjin, grabbing his phone and texting Manager Sejin to demand this assignment happen ASAP if it hasn’t happened already.

“Yeah. How long do you think they will be there? Joonie-ah normally only stays long enough to let everyone know and then comes home,” Yoongi asks.

A chorus of replies came, all pointing out the same fact– no one had a clue. 

This prompted Jimin to bolt out of Hoseok’s arm, yelling as he went, “Everyone get me a heavily scented blanket and whatever pillow you want Y/n to have in her nest!”

Confusion fell over most of the remaining pack. Taehyung and Jungkook were the only ones to get up as if they knew what was happening.

“Jinnie-hyung, can you grab the stuff in the dryer?” asked the youngest mate.

“Sure, as soon as you tell me what Jimin is doing with Y/n’s nest,” responded Seokjin, as everyone stopped moving to listen. 

Looking around, Jungkook could see that the hyung line was all clueless. “Oh, Y/n was breaking down her nest at 7 am this morning and wanted to return our items because it didn’t feel right anymore.”

Yoongi moved forward, asking, “What do you mean return them? She doesn’t want our scents?”

“Nooo, that isn’t it. She… her mom wouldn’t let her keep up her ‘blanket fort,’ and so she was tearing it down at 7 am. Tae-hyung and Jimin-hyung, we all talked to her about it. Turns out, she was giving it back because she thought they needed to be cleaned and didn’t smell right.”

“But what is Jimin doing?” prompts Seokjin, still looking for the answer to his question.

Bouncing on his feet, Junngkook says, “She said Jimin could build her a proper nest to come home to because she might be too worn out to make it herself.”

A mixture of shock and giddiness spread across the rooms, followed by chaos. Everyone was practically running upstairs to find and scent the perfect blanket. Seokjin got the drying and called everyone to get what was theirs. 

Meanwhile, Jimin took the regular bedding down to your den and started getting to work. It was typical for Jimin to take the lead on making the nests for the pack, but what wasn’t expected was for Jimin to restrict anyone from helping. Anytime one of his mates came near the bed, Jimin would growl. 

“Jimin-hyung, I was the one who figured it out in the first place. I can be here and help,” whined Jungkook. 

Everyone knew that logically. Jungkook had heard your restless night and fixed it with little help. By all means, Jungkook was now responsible for ensuring your sleeping needs were being met. 

With a growl, Jimin refused to let him come any closer. By now, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok had all gathered to watch the exchange. Curiosity peaked at the unusual behavior of their normally docile tiny mate. 

“Jimin-ah, Kookie is right. His Alpha has taken this responsibility, and you really shouldn’t deny it,” Yoongi says, trying to inject some logic into this situation. 

The increased intensity of Jimin’s growl was unexpected. Not only was growling difficult for a Red Panda hybrid to make, but it was also typically saved for dangerous situations. 

The room fell silent, aside from Jimin, and the Alphas stepped back. None of them wanted to challenge Jimin regarding his drive to make a nest for their new mate, but his actions were not welcomed or appropriate as far as the rest were concerned. 

After a stalemate of what to do, a bouncing Taehyung joined them. “Hey, are we gonna keep… What’s going on here?” asked the tiger as he took in the tenseness of the room. It is clear to him that it’s everyone against Jimin right now, but why?

“Hyung won’t let me help get Y/n’s bed ready when she comes home to sleep. It’s my area to care for,” whines Jungkook, his ears now out and drooping low with sadness. 

Walking into the room further, Jimin’s growl lessens as his attention is now on the tiger, but it still hasn’t completely gone away. Raising his eyebrow at Jimin, Taehyung sees that the nest isn’t complete, and Jungkook still holds his scented blanket.

“I think you guys are getting it wrong,” comments Taehyung, turning his back to Jimin and pulling everyone else’s attention. “Hoseok-hyung, you were there when Y/n agreed to build a nest for her. What did you offer?”

Scrunching his brow, Hoseok answers, “I said we could replace what she needed, and Jimin could build her a nest.”

Taehyung waits to see if they catch on, but when seconds go by, and no one connects the dots, he says, “You offered her a nest built by Jimin. Only Jimin. She said she would love to come home to a nest built by Jimin.”

“It’s a charge,” says Seokjin with understanding. “Jimin is charged with making a nest for Y/n before she gets home. Jungkook, give Jimin the blanket, and then we all need to leave.”

Thumping his foot in protest, the bunny hybrid whines,  “Buuut Hyung…”

“No. This isn’t about sleeping. It’s about a nest. Jimin has always been responsible when it comes to the pack’s nest and that won’t stop now,” corrects Seokjin.

“Wait, Jungkook, look at the nest Jimin is building. Is there anything you or Jimin think it could need more to help provide a proper nest and comfort for sleeping?” offers Yoongi.

Jimin and Jungkook take in the nest as the youngest hands over his blanket, taking in the amount of blankets and pillows. Jimin starts to weave the new blanket into the rest around the edge. 

“Namjoon’s scent is not as strong as the rest of ours,” says Jungkook. Looking at Jimin, he waits for his thoughts on the comment to which Jimin starts counting. After double-checking that he is only counting six blankets, Jimin nods at Jungkook.

“Will you be okay if I got you his blanket and maybe another pillow of his for the nest you are making for Y/n, Jimin-hyung?” tentatively asks the youngest Alpha. 

Jimin makes a squeaking noise as he undoes the nest wall to make it better once the Prime Alpha’s blanket is brought down. Noticing that no one has moved, he jumps off the bed and pushes everyone out. His antics are met with laughing and teasing by the hyungs.

It takes Jungkook and Jimin almost two hours to complete the nest. Well, actually, it takes Jimin two hours to make it while Jungkook turns into his personal errand boy. Jungkook has been sent to have different mates at more scent to items or change it out for something different because it feels wrong.

All of the mates don’t complain or argue about the requests. They are grateful that their Jiminnie is slowly returning to himself, and their new mate is the only one to thank for this change.

It has gotten late, much to the pack's dislike. They wanted to see you in your gown in person, not on a screen and not from yards away.  Namjoon had already promised them his date with you would end when you got home. 

Seokjin, having already had a date with you, retired for the night. He had seen you in a dress, felt your skin against his, and basked in your body's heat.  While he would love to experience those all again, he would be patient and wait his turn.

That patience was nowhere to be found in Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung. Each of them took turns checking the driveway for some indication you were almost here. When the car had pulled up, the three of them were practically glued to the window. 

It wasn’t until Yoongi yelled at them to stop being creepy and wait for you to make it in the door that they stopped their window-watching. Chuckling at their actions, Yoongi and Jungkook left them to bombard you as they also turned in for the night. 

However, when some time passed and you both were not in their presence, they grew restless again. Using their hybrid skills of being sneaky and light-footed, Hoseok and Taehyung make it to the door. Leaning against the door, they catch the conversation on the other side. 

Doing their best to tamp down their scents and not interrupt, the two of them listen to the rustle of clothes, the sounds of increased breaking, soft and uncontrollable moans of desire, and the smell of an intimate scenting session. 

They are giddy at their Prime Alpha's progress with the newest mate. Taehyung’s tail curled and uncurled on the floor in anticipation of being able to elicit the same reactions from you. 

THUD

A sharp pain flies up Taehyung’s tail as he hisses, turning around to see that Jimin, in all clumsiness, has fallen off the hall bench and landed on Taehyung’s tail, crushing it with his knee. 

Jimin freezes while Hoseok scrambles away from the door and hurdles upstairs, taking multiple steps at a time. 

“Ow, that was my tail!” Tae screeches. 

THUMB

The front door rattles.

“Shit. 빨리 가다,” bitingly says Tae, pulling Jimin along the way, who is whispering apologies the whole way. Meanwhile, Tae is cursing in every language he knows because he caught you turning off your scent.

Jimin was restless. He knew the boys had heard his mistake, not that he was the only one to blame, but he was still worried. He was worried that what happened ruined your night with Namjoon. 

Namjoon scent could be smelled down the hall. It was a mix of anger, annoyance, lust, and despair. Your scent was nowhere to be found. Jimin had tried to find comfort with Hoseok, but he only said to wait till the morning to see what repairs were needed. 

That wasn’t acceptable.

He tried to peek into Jungkook’s bedroom to see if he knew what to do, but the youngest Alpha was nowhere to be found. Jimin went to your den’s door to see if he could hear anything. Maybe if he knew you were slumbering away, he could calm down.

However, he did not hear the even, slow breaths of someone sleeping. It was the staccato breaths and sniffles of someone crying. How did he not hear them til now? 

Were you a master of hiding your tears as well as your scent?

What does he do now?

With how the shadows moved along the bottom of the door, Jimin knew you were leaning against it. He couldn’t open it, or he would hit you. Did you want someone to come and comfort you? 

Why had you just crumpled at the door? 

Did Taehyung and his actions at the door bother you that much? 

Not knowing how to make anything better but unwilling to leave you alone, Jimin sat against the wall next to your door. He sends out his calming orange scent with a hint of vanilla, hoping it will slow your tears. 

He is reserved to stay there all night if he has to.

Nearly two hours later, he hears movement from your room, which startles Jimin. He thought maybe you had fallen asleep against the door. Watching the shadows play along the floor, he can tell you to get up and go farther into the room. 

Should he knock now? 

What are you doing?

Will you finally seek comfort in the nest he carefully made for you?

After hearing the sounds of water and more rustling of clothes, Jimin realizes that you are getting ready for bed. You shuffle around the room for a moment. Then he can hear you get on the bed… wait, you walk again.

Where are you going?

What’s on the other side of the room?

At the sound of your renewed staccato breathing far away from his nest, Jimin joins you in your silent cries from the hallway. Thoughts of failing to build a proper nest, thoughts of ruining things for you with Namjoon, and thoughts of you rejecting the mate bond taunt him behind your closed door. 

He will fix this. 

He will be the first mate you see when you wake up. He will find out what is wrong and correct it. He has to, and he will make Tae help.

Evil cackling laughter is heard before the voice says, “Filthy mongrel, tear it down before someone sees.”

“Of course, Mama. I won’t make it again,” you say with tears in your eyes.

“You are just an attention whore,” a male voice says.

You shake your head, “No, no! I thought if I did it… I just wanted you to like me.”

Another female voice sounds off. “He only keeps you around because you are easier than a blow-up doll and warmer, too. " 

Wiping off your face from the lunch they just dumped on you, the sounds of the cafeteria’s laughter making you dizzy. “He said he loved me.”

“Just act like a normal human being, Y/n. Then maybe you won’t be so pathetic,” the older woman says, pulling you by your hair and throwing you in the closet. “Now stay there and reflect. Don’t you ever tell a soul.”

“Meemaw! No, let me out please! Don’t leave me here!” Your cries go unanswered for days, all because you cuddled on the couch with Evie and three of her brothers in a Kitty pile.

“Why would I want a child with you? I’d rather you die.” Eric’s voice goes on repeat.

That’s when the pain starts. 

You feel the slaps across your face, the kicking of your stomach, the snapping of your ankle, your lungs filling with water, and the never-ending feeling of falling down the stairs.

“Y/n!” You hear your voice being called and know that more torment is coming. Your body starts to shake.

“Y/n, baby, 내꺼. Please, wake up. Naekkeo,” a pleading voice breaks through the hazy of the nightmare you are having. 

Still being shaken by someone’s hands, you sit up like a shot, and panic that you are going to get hurt floods your system. Your eyes are wide and unseeing what is around you causing your eyes to dart around the room, looking for danger.

It isn’t until hands hold your face and force you to look at the person sitting next to you. You see Jimin with worry, pain, and so much more etched on his face. 

“Y/n, Naekkeo, you are safe at the packhouse. I have you,” he says gently but with surety. His eyes never leave yours, the orange and vanilla scent falling over you like a blanket. 

“Ji..Jimin?” you clarify, grabbing his hands to ensure he is real. Tears falling again, you launch yourself into his arms. “Jimin, it was a nightmare, right?”

Caught off by suddenly having his new mate in his arms, he is lucky that the instinct to protect you is so strong, or the both of you might have ended up on the floor. Scooting to sit properly in the window seat, he pulls you into a more secure hold. Wrapping his arms around your trembling form, he puts your head on his shoulder and rocks slowly.

“Yes, Naekkeo. It was all a nightmare. You’re not hurt,” Jimin reaffirms by pulling you a faction closer. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble against his neck as tears wet his pajama shirt. 

“No, nightmares are not something to be sorry about. Something causes them to happen, and it is beyond your control. Do you have them often?” 

“Not really. I haven’t had them in a while, but they still come. They usually last a lot longer than this.”

“Not anymore. We won’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” He hears you take a breath to say something, but he cuts you off: “Don’t worry about us missing out on sleep or something like that. We will lose more sleep if you know you are going through them without us helping you.”

He feels you relax more in his hold. Brushing your hair out of your eyes, Jimin looks at you again with a soft smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head and clarify, “I think I should tell Bangtan together. I already explained some to Namjoon but…”

“You only want to say it once,” Jimin finishes your sentence. “Makes sense but can I ask you a question?”

Sitting up more, pulling slightly out of his hold, you get held in place firmer. Surprisingly, you don’t feel the need to tense up. Instead, it warms your soul that your nightmares aren’t detouring him and that he still wants to be the friend he promised initially. 

“What is your question?”

You see his eyes flick up and then back down to you, his eyes distant, like he is trying to find the right words. A moment later, he looks you dead in the eye, alerting your mind, and asks, “Why did you not sleep in the nest I made for you?”

“The nest?”

Timidly, Jimin bites his bottom lip and nods to the bed, “Did I not make it well enough?”

Glancing to the bed, you see the nest again. It’s then your scent comes crashing back. Your sweet pea is slightly moldy, hinting at perfume tones and a splash of bergamot.

Jimin instantly sends soothing scents and rubs your back, “It’s okay if you don’t like it. Everyone likes them in different ways.”

“It’s not that, Jimin. It’s lovely.” Looking back at the Alpha holding you with a smile filled with sadness and longing. “It’s perfect. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Confusion fills Jimin’s face, looking between you and the bed. His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he huffs. Without another thought, Jimin stands, cradling you to his chest, one arm across your back and the other hooking under your knees.

“Jimin! Jimin, put me down. I weigh like 1,000 pounds,” you say in high-pitched but hushed tones, trying not to wake up the rest of the house. 

It's like your mind wants to get out of his grasp, but your body never wants to let go, which is why you have a vice grip on his shoulders despite your words.  

A soft but low growl comes from him. Looking down at you, with a now deadpan face, he says, “I am an Alpha. I was made to pick you up no matter what. How would I be able to protect you, hold you, and comfort you if I couldn’t?”

Stilling in his arms, you take in the feeling of his engaged but not straining shoulder under your grip.

Finally, he starts walking again towards the nest. You watch his face in slightly shocked awe. There is no trembling, no sweat on his brown, no indication that you are too much for him. You are dropped inside the nest before you can ask questions and unpack this new information.

“Jimin,” you whine, only for him to sit outside and level you with a firm look.

“I made this for you. Jungkook helped a little, but each of Bangtan contributed a blanket and at least one pillow to add to your nest. Do you want to know why?”

Still, in a semi-balled-up fetal position, you are covered in a multitude of scents. You want to know, but you don’t, “Jimin, thank you for making this, but I think… I think…”

“You think we are taking it too far? Think that if you start accepting your situation more we will hurt you like others in your past?” he questions.

Breaking eye contact, you look at the woven blanket wall of the nest again. “The seven of you are so tightly woven together that the world knows who all of you are. Most people who dislike K-pop will at least have some idea of who BTS is. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

A chuckle comes from the red panda, “You won’t. It’s impossible.”

Now it's your turn to chuckle: “Oh yeah, sure, that is why you guys had a whole new contract written up. If I were a regular Playmate, then I could see you saying that, but…”

“But you are not,” Jimin cuts you off. “That is why nothing will be ruined.” He scoots closer to the wall of the nest and tilts his head, asking, “May I come in? I want to see something.”

You glance at him before looking around again, noting that the nest he made is, technically, big enough for at least one, maybe two more people.

“You can say no. You can say no to all of us. You could have said no to Namjoon-hyung tonight as well,” Jimin states again with total seriousness. 

You can say no, but is it improper to say no?

You can say no, but will you always say no?

You can say no, but did you want to say no? 

With the look in Jimin’s eyes, the scents surrounding you from the nest, and the little voice inside your heart, the answer is No. 

No, it's not improper to say no. 

No, you won’t always say no.

No, you want to say yes.

“You can join me,” you say just above a hushed whisper.

Carefully, with his eyes still locked with yours, Jimin climbs over the nest wall and finds space between the wall and you. He lays with his back to the door, facing you. 

Once Jimin settles, your body uncurls and relaxes instinctively. Your braced hand finds the hem of his shirt and holds on as you turn to face him. The other hand bounces between resting on your side to the bed, under your head, and back again.

Telegraphing his intention, Jimin clasps his hand in yours and settles it between you. The breath you had been unknowingly holding releases, and you breathed in the pack again, but this time with Jimin's more robust, fresh scent. 

“There she is. My Naekkeo smells like sweet peas and vanilla again,” smiles Jimin. 

You blush this time at the name Naekkeo; Jimin is calling you sweetheart in Korean. He had said it before, but you were so panicked from the nightmare that the translation part of your brain was offline. 

“Y/n, I will be as honest as I can with you. Please listen to everything I have to say before you say anything and know it is okay not to say anything,” Jimin states with a questioning look. 

You snuggle down into the comfort of the nest and nod at the Alpha. Jimin smiles fondly at your actions as he tries to figure out just how to tell you enough but not too much.

“Playmates were forced on Bangtan Pack at the beginning. PD-nim said if we accepted them, the rest of the industry would accept them. It would save the lives of hybrid Idols from turning feral or losing them to suicide.”

You sucked in a harsh breath but kept quiet, letting him continue.

“We didn’t say no. We didn’t think we could. Our first Playmate came with all the bells, whistles, and services included. She got mad when none of us would touch her. None of us wanted to. She repulsed us with her outright desire that stunk up a city block.

“She even tried to use some of those aphrodisiac chocolates on Jungkook-ah. Once Namjoon-hyung found out, it was war. He went after the Playmate’s company, PD-nim, and even threatened to break our contract with Hybe and BigHit.

“After that, all of our Playmates had the contracts you saw. In fact, most of our playmates were homosexual female-identified, which made it easy because, well, we are all males. Contrary to popular belief, even though we are a male mate-bonded pack, most of us still appreciate the female body and have experience with it.”

You giggle at the random fact. You had figured the pack wasn’t opposed to being with either gender after a few of the songs that Lily showed you. Jimin just raised his eyebrow in question, but you waved him to continue.

Pulling your hand to his chest, he continues, “When you came crashing into our lives, everything changed. Yoongi, Jungkook, Seokjin, and I were the first to realize that you were different. It wasn’t long after that the rest understood that, too.

“We wanted you in our lives before your hand got broken. Actually, Yoongi wanted away from all the Playmate scents so badly that he left the observation room to run right into the reason why.”

Pulling your hand up, he kisses the back softly, then looks at you again before clarifying, “You. None of us see you as a Playmate, Y/n. There is a reason why the contract we took on says there is the option to integrate you into the pack. We are just trying to explore what it is during this time.

“At the end of the contract, we all may better understand what has happened or is happening. Then, together, the eight of us will discuss what happens next. Just remember, you always have the right to say no.”

The silence following is not deafening, but it is heavy. 

You were given so much information all at once. Mostly, you wanted to punch their first Playmate while praising Namjoon for being an incredible Prime Alpha and protecting the pack. That is two Playmates now that you understand need a good old-fashioned ass-whoopin’.

Jimin’s words confirmed what Taehyung and Hoseok had said before you signed the contract. He was there then and agreed, but you still had doubts. How much you want to trust them frustrates you, but you question everything you do.

Maybe it’s not them that you don’t trust.

Maybe you don’t trust– you.

God, your brain has too much going on right now. The plethora of information, the adrenaline of the nightmare wearing off, and the comfort of the nest with Jimin makes you sleepy. 

Stifling a yawn, Jimin chuckles. 

“I have so much to think about now. Thank you for sharing everything, Jimin,” you say. “I think… I think I want to talk to the pack tomorrow if I can. I need to tell them about my nightmares, my ex, and let them know what you told me. Maybe we can all clear a few things up.”

The red panda barks pleasedly, and a bright smile graces his face. “I think that is a beautiful idea, but right now, Naekkeo, you need more sleep,” he agrees and moves to get out of the nest, pulling a whine from you.

It shocks both of you. Jimin looked around to ensure he hadn’t knocked over anything in the nest. Meanwhile, you are blushing at the fact you literally whined at the thought of Jimin leaving you alone in the nest. 

“Naekkeo?” questions Jimin, still frozen in mid-climb.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean, I shouldn’t,” you blabber.

Turning back to you, Jimin cradles your face in his palm, drawing your eyes to his. “You can ask me anything.”

“Can you… can you stay… in the nest… with me?” you hesitantly question. “I mean, you can also say no. Youhaveyourownbedanddonhavetostay.”

“May I answer before you decide for me?” 

“Ah yeah, sorry. I tend to keep…” Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you open them again and say, “Yes, sorry.”

“I would be honored to share your nest tonight,” Jimin says with a heart-melting smile, bringing his hand away from your face. “Where do you want me?”

That paused you… Where did you want him?

Looking at where he was, then where you were, you weren’t sure where else he could go besides where he was now. The confusion must have shown either on your face or your scent because Jimin started trying to hold in his laughter.

Glaring at him playfully, you ask, “What is so funny? Who asks that kind of question? You just lay there and sleep. It’s not me to tell you where you will be comfortable.”

“That isn’t what I meant, Y/n. I meant, like, do you want me against the wall or between you and the bedroom door? Under the covers or over the covers? Big spoon, little spoon, no spoon?” Jimin informs you, watching as each option is said and his heart fluttering at the blush that covers your cheeks at the last three options. 

“Ah… well. You are the Alpha and are the protector-ish one between us so maybe where you are now, between the door and I. Not that anything would come to get us in the packhouse but on principle,” you stammer out.

“Alright, Protector-ish Jimin in place,” he says jokingly as he puffs out his chest. “Now over or under?”

Giggling at his actions, you pull the covers from under you. Snuggling in them, you say, “I can’t sleep without a blanket because I get cold easily. Do you?”

Jimin thinks about it for a few seconds. “Well, I do like to sleep with blankets but I don’t have to sleep that way if it will make you uncomfortable. However, if I sleep under the covers, it will help warm them and in turn warm you.”

Your face drops in a flush of heat as you remember Taehyung’s words, “I am sure someone would be willing to warm you up,’ and you warm up all on your own.

“Ah well, I do get cold, and Taehyung said that Alphas were good at keeping warm. Umm… so you can be under them if you want.”

Nodding slowly, Jimin slips under the covers. His Alpha pushes him to find ways to keep you comfortable. Since you didn’t give a no and didn’t say anything that could indicate you hated the idea, he would do just as you said. Besides, as Protector-ish Jimin, he couldn’t stand the thought of you being cold while he was this close to you.

Watching you, he can tell you are waiting for him to ask about the last part. “Big spoon, small spoon, or no spoon, Naekkeo?”

Your eyes drop to the space between the two of you. Your meemaw’s words hit you again, but then the comfort you felt when cuddling with Evie and Derik followed and finished with the security you felt in Jimin’s arms on the sitting window. 

“You can say no spoon, Y/n. I won’t mind.”

“I used to be a big cuddler, but I… I don’t much more. Um, typically only with my family pack. Can we just lay like this for now?”

“Of course. I will always respect your wishes,” smiles Jimin. You search his face for a hint of disappointment or anger but find nothing but his smile of contentment. 

You return his smile, which quickly becomes a rather large yawn. Giggling, you snuggle down farther, then reach out and take his hand with yours: “Is this okay?”

“Y/n, I had you in my lap and offered to be any spoon you wanted. I think I am fine with holding your hand while we sleep,” he teases you. 

“You’re right,” you giggle. “Well, so you know, I am a wiggler and a traveler. I have been known to end up with my head down and my feet up. So if I get too much, you can wake me up or hold me in place until I stop. Or whatnot. Evie always ends up sleeping on my chest to pin me in place.”

“Hmm, I see. Well, if you turn into a human tornado, then I may have to find a way to tie you up,” he says with his eyes closed, completely missing the shocked look on your face. However, he does take note of your scent turning to honey with arousal. 

Jimin thinks of all the ways Hoseok used his kinbaku and shibari skills as a form of meditation, relaxation, and trust-building practice between them. Maybe Hoseok can use them on you and help you in the same way he helped Jimin with his anxiety and trust issues. 

Either way, the imagery of you in intricately knotted silk or hemp rope makes Jimin very happy that you didn’t choose him to be the big spoon right about now.

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[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

it is not really a shock that this fandom has a bit of a misogyny problem, but i think a specific one is how the boys are often somewhat babied and given all sorts of pity for every single tiny thing they go through, while the girls with similar issues are often ignored entirely. there are many examples of this, but right now, i am going to talk at length about the Tenmas and the Shinonomes in particular, as them being pairs of siblings allows very direct comparison.

firstly, the one that irks me most: Tsukasa Tenma, and how a ridiculous number of his fans will make absolutely everything about him. including Saki's disability. i do think it's right to acknowledge the impact on him as well- but it gets overdramatic really quickly. i'm sorry to be harsh, but Saki did not spend her childhood in and out of hospitals, believing that she was dying, just for half the fandom to completely brush over her trauma and be like "oh... poor, lonely Tsukasa..."

i rather hate this, because not only does it feel quite ableist to skim over the one directly suffering from the condition in order to massively favour someone who happens to feel a bit of the knock-on effect, but it's also used to unreasonably villainise the Tenma parents. people will go on about how "neglected" Tsukasa was... very well, how exactly would you have handled the situation? they did their absolute best. it was a highly unfortunate situation for everyone involved, and it's unfair to deem Mrs and Mr Tenma as "bad parents" simply because they prioritised their dangerously ill daughter over their confident son who always assured them that he'd be alright. yes, they could have made better choices for Tsukasa, such as hiring a babysitter... but i think people tend to forget that Saki's illness flared up very suddenly and randomly. as the good parents the Tenmas are, they very likely couldn't think properly due to their panic for their daughter. it was instinct to drop everything and get her immediate help. and Tsukasa himself understands this, so it's an absolute wonder that the fandom doesn't. he was not ignored. he was phoned, updated on the situation, reassured that his sister was recovering... and praised by his parents for being such a wonderful brother.

also, with the situation of Saki's hospitalisation, i do feel like Tsukasa's own personality is sometimes not taken into account, ironic since it's him that everyone's interested in. because i would, in fact, be more critical of the Tenma parents, had Tsukasa been a more fragile child. if he had been the type who was easily scared, who could not handle being by himself, who would, in fact, have been traumatised from being left alone- i would say that the Tenma parents would have deserved the treatment they get from the fandom. but... that's not Tsukasa. it has been shown that Tsukasa was always a very bright, self-assured boy, positively brimming with confidence. even when little, he was creative and strong- and his parents knew this. they could have some peace of mind during a stressful time, knowing that their son could entertain himself with ease, such as how he was practising some acting just before his mother rang him. all of this is shown within the Dazzling Stage event which is, funnily enough, the very same event that the lovers of Tsukasa angst latch onto.

of course Tsukasa was heavily concerned about Saki. he is an incredibly caring person, why wouldn't he be? and yes, of course he missed her while she was in the hospital. no one is trying to deny that, nor minimise his suffering. the fandom does that to Saki. while acknowledging that Tsukasa was affected is good, in fact, it is very interesting to see the impact of disabilities beyond those directly affected... it's the fact that it is majorly Tsukasa's issues that are focused on that confuses me. it's disproportionate. i do wish we saw just as much sympathy and discussion about Saki herself, in addition to her brother. the psychological impact that her illness and consequential exclusion had on her, as well as the obvious physical aspect. because that is just as interesting, if not potentially more so, and i will be making a future post about it.

moving on from the Tenmas, i'd now like to talk about the Shinonome siblings, in a little less detail, considering i personally have not witnessed the unfairness of their treatment as much as that between the Tenmas. though, make no mistake, it still exists.

now, Ena is a character who i feel has a certain percentage of those who dislike her. and what are the general traits that people point out when asked why they aren't a fan? from what i've seen, it is her anger management issues, past violence, and a general "tsundere" type of personality that earns her this criticism. i'm not saying she does not have any of this. she absolutely does. she is flawed, as good, complex characters should be. though, everything she is despised for... who else regularly displays the exact same traits?

none other than her own brother, Akito. yet the dislike for him, while it is obviously around, does not seem quite as common as hers. a very short and hot temper? check. shows of violence? check. a sometimes harsh way of speaking? check. can sound aggressive and off-putting on occassion? check. Akito and Ena are incredibly similar when it comes to their more negative traits. i suppose it's not a surprise, considering that they were both brought up in the same, questionable environment. though, why does Ena seem to be hated so much more?

most will bring up the very infamous mention of how Ena and Akito's fights would get physical when they were younger. and how this makes Ena an "abuser" because supposedly, as she is the elder one, there was an imbalance in power... but was there really? it is incredibly controversial to say, but i do believe that the violence between them, particularly that which was committed by Ena, is quite exaggerated by fans. and here is where i think that Akito tends to be babied.

Ena was not significantly stronger than Akito. perhaps not ever physically stronger than him at all except when they were literal babies. there is only one year of difference between their ages. in the current day, it is no debate that Akito is one of the strongest characters, regularly going on runs, being able to sprint with Tsukasa on his back, while Ena is quite on the opposite end of the spectrum, preferring the indoors and such. what i am saying is that it is absurd how the fandom makes it seem like Akito was some utterly defenceless little toddler that was getting beaten up by his Big Bad Sister. realistically, he was fully capable of fighting back- and he does. it's hardly as if we see him cower before her. he has absolutely no issue retorting to her in a snarky manner. when people bring up the whole drama of Ena scratching him, they conveniently forget what he says directly afterwards- that he could dodge her attacks. not to mention, sibling fights getting physical and a little violent is incredibly common, take it from me- i am an oldest sister myself. if you call Ena an abuser, you are saying that you want half the older siblings in this world behind bars.

oh, and people will talk until they're blue in the face about how the "nasty" and "crazy" Ena scratched up her brother when they were younger- are we forgetting that Akito punched Toya in the literal main story? that left a massive bruise on his cheek. that isn't talked about nearly as much as some common sibling scrap.

if you can let similar behaviour slide from Akito... how come it is unacceptable from his older sister? who is, arguably, from what has been shown in the story so far... under the greater amount of stress from the tension within their family. it was her that was explicitly discouraged by their father. we haven't seen such conflict between Shinei and his son, have we? that's not to say that Akito's current personality isn't also explained, having grown up in that environment, but why is it that Ena receives so much less sympathy than him when she, understandably, lashes out?

Saki and Ena have both had it rough. in their own, very different, ways. yet, a staggering amount of pity is given, not to them, but to their respective brothers.

and i must, sadly, wonder... if the mere genders of these four characters happened to be swapped and all else remained as it is...

... would the perception of any of them be quite the same?

[chefkids]

Claire was the Cold Prep.

The Ice Chips episode will be the when he talks to her again because she is the last chip of getting stuck in the freezer he has left over to deal with. They are always connected to cold and fridges. He reconnected with her in the freezer aisle at the grocery store.

They made out in the garde manger which is the cold prep station in kitchens.

And of course they broke up by the walk in fridge.

Claire was a Cold Reading for Carmy. A rehearsal. A practice girlfriend before the real thing. Molly and Jeremy did not even do a chemistry read before they were on set running lines together, and that was not due to poor planning. It was very intentional just like Claire's entire character. Her lack of development, he costuming, their interactions, are all tied up with being a cold prep. Their entire relationship was written as practice for Carmy wanting to be with Syd, which is why he mirrors everything about Sydney into that relationship.

Fak is going to tell Claire that Carmy told him he’s still in love with her to try and get them to fix things. She will probably try to reconcile and tell Carmy that Fak told her he does love her, but I think Carmy is going to tell her he never told him that and that he’s not actually in love with her and can't be with her.

*Season 3 Spoiler Skip this paragraph* That is what is going to cause the fight that we heard, because Fak/Claire will accuse Carmy of lying about it and Carmy will insist he didn’t lie about saying he loved her.

Technically Carmy didn’t say he was in love with her. Fak asked Carmy how much he love Claire and he said he loved her a lot. Carmy does love Claire. But he’s not in love with her. 

He loves Claire same way he loves Fak or Tina or even Mikey. He loves her as an old friend and someone in his life he cares about and doesn’t want to hurt her feelings, which why he tried to gently reject her with a fake number but couldn't say no to her face.

He asked Tina how much she loved Mikey and she said a lot. Which is the same thing he told Fak about Claire, because he doesn't love her romantically.

Carmy tried to be in love with her. But he never told her I love you and he was bothered when she said it to him in the voicemail because he realized love and being in love are two very different things.

Claire loves Carmy romantically but he doesn't love her in that way.

In his panic attack he figured out the difference between the two. He loves Mikey and his family and even his mom and Claire. But he’s not in love with them. Sydney was a completely separate type of love and peace for him because he doesn’t just love her, he is in love with her.

Claire was there Christmas after Donna crashed her car. He saw that she saw the mess behind his life. He didn’t want to stay there so he left to New York. She has always been tied to horrible memories for him and it's not her fault, but he can't separate the two.

But honestly, the fact that Claire saw what his life was like that night and the full extent of his family trauma around alcohol makes me even more angry that she took him to that party and the told him that “she knows” about him having to take care of sad drunk people.

She might have said she wants to understand, not fix people. But it seems to me like she thought she could fix Carmy’s shyness and trauma around parties and alcohol by forcing him to be around it, but really she was just bringing up all the past trauma he had and bad memories tied to her.

They both tried to use that relationship for bad reasons, he tried to teach himself how to be a boyfriend and she tried to teach him how to be "normal" because she wanted a boyfriend, but the type of guy she wanted is not who Carmy really is, which is why he was pretending to be Logan at that party and why she loved seeing him act like that, even when it's not him. Carmy wanted to see Syd in Claire, and Claire wanted to see "Logan" in Carmy.

[pampushky]

i hate the air he breathes his foolish decrees

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 2 - 5k

woooo welcome to part 2 my loves! sorry for the slight wait. I've been doing hot bitch shit (my actual job). but now we're back. enjoy the fuck out of it. TW: no mention of abuser other than as him. mentions of abandonment and severe physical trauma in the form of a house fire. lore drop on the main character too!!

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Mid-March 2005. Los Angeles.

Niki gets a call from an unknown number that wakes him up from a deep slumber, and he hardly has any time to think as he’s pulling a sweater over his head and forgoing a hat entirely. It’s his third day in as your legal guardian, and you’re already transferred to a state-of-the-art hospital in Los Angeles, across the country from where you’d lived previously. A newer set of mountains. A city to the hamlet you’d once known, hidden away in the foggy mountains of North Carolina.  

As he blearily walks into the hospital lobby, there’s already a small team of doctors waiting for him, explaining rapidly what's happening to you as they walk him up to your room in the burn ward. You’re in the best hospital for burns on the continent— Niki had made sure of it. Had paid for the flight over here two days ago, with a medical staff on board to keep you stable during the five-hour flight. 

The doctors swarming around your unconscious form resemble vultures. The burn center director explains everything to him when they finally get to your room. The rapid medical treatment nearly made you present early. Freakishly early, by all standards. It’s understood to have been a panic response by your body— because you're on the brink of death in the burn ward, your hormones so out of whack that for whatever reason, your brain had gone, ‘Oh, yes, it’s time to do that now.’

Studies had shown that those in areas where the risk of death was high often presented much earlier, with other cases that also supported something known as “panic presentation”. You’re an extreme example of the latter. But it had never been seen to this degree. You need to be knocked out for several days, going comatose while a team of doctors works around the clock to save your life while it seems likely you will melt away like the first snowfall on a sun-warmed road as it seems new complications get piled onto your case file every day. The way the doctor talks about you makes Niki feel like you’re more of a specimen meant for study, and not a pup who’d just lost her Dam. 

Marlene has already decorated the sterile room to reflect more on a child’s room. And wherever there’s an empty space on a table, she’s placed down vases full of fresh flowers. Flowering dogwood. That’s what the state flower was of North Carolina, and however early in the season for blooming it was, she managed to find fresh ones every day. Now, Marlene was back at the hotel, settling a new wave of interest about your identity while Niki tried to figure out what he was going to do with you when he's lead into the room.

You’re already on several new medications to prevent you from presenting early, having them inserted in through an IV and eventually, to be taken as a pill when you could swallow. You'll be on these same medications until you’re seven or eight, when they can start to consider weaning you off of them to let you present then because it’ll be safer. Niki hates the idea of you presenting even then. You should be almost fully grown when you present. Not— not still a pup. With baby teeth still in your mouth. You should be wrestling. Learning to access your canine form, and causing mayhem like his sons had. 

So he does what he’s been doing for the past five days. Niki sits quietly by your side in your private room. Holding your tiny hand while a machine breathes for you, not even five years old, and fighting for your life. Completely unaware of the complications your existence has thrown straight into Niki’s lap, dredging up old, old wounds that his sons have yet to recover from.

Because the great complication is that you’re his biological grandchild. 

Through a son, a beta, that neither Lukas nor Mathias had gotten to know. Or Niki, for that matter. But here you are. The only link to that son. To the ultimate undoing of his marriage and mating, his infidelity thrown back in his face in the form of a sedated, traumatized pup that can’t understand him through his accent.

Left without a dam, your mother. Lost to the roaring flames of a housefire that you’d somehow survived. Part of Niki wants to know how his son had ended up in the area, and if there are any other new descendants he should know about. So he petitions the court to gain access to your files before he legally adopts you, and he stares down at them before finally lifting the cover of the manila folder and starts to read.

All the files seem to stare right on back at Niki as he continues to pour through them, officially five minutes and nine seconds into being your legal guardian. They’re meticulous, just as expected— it had become standard for anyone who’d had so much as a visit to a hospital to create a DNA profile, especially after they presented. His affair child’s profile stares back at him, with what he can only assume is an up-to-date photo. Male. Beta. Signed away parental rights before birth. Austrian nationality. That’s all you have to go on for your biological father’s identity. 

That’s all that linked Niki to you, and how the social worker had managed to contact him. All other positive matches from your father’s side are his former mistress as your biological grandmother and his two sons with Marlene as your uncles. There are no other pups listed for his affair child. No other grandchildren that he has to worry about. Your dam’s profile is more complete. A smiling picture of her holding you as an infant, left by her family.

Female. Omega. Deceased. American nationality, born in Banner Elk, North Carolina. 

And under that:

Dam’s pack signed away pack and next of kin rights to the pup. Relevant health history is accessible through the International UN DNA database. Pack requested no contact order until the pup has reached legal age, or unless the pup does not survive her time in hospital, so they may bury her in the family plot with her Dam.

This makes a chill run down Niki’s spine. Your pack had… signed you away? The only people who had been familiar to you— and they had signed away their rights as though you were more of a burden than anything, only asking for you back if you were dead. It makes him shudder, as he looks down at your tiny body again, for what must have been the thousandth time since he’s been introduced to you. Since he’d so quickly agreed to become your legal guardian, your legal sire. Covered in bandages and hooked up to dozens of wires. 

The social worker explained that signing you away was them not wanting to pay for the massive medical bill, along with the scandal your birth had caused in the small community. Your Dam was unmated, and even worse, unmarried, raising you on her own in a less-than-up-to-code cabin her late father had left her, further out in the mountains, a thirty-minute drive into town. 

The matriarch of her pack had been well-regarded in the area— it was an open secret that she was looking for any excuse to remove you from the picture. This just happened to be the perfect excuse. How was she going to be able to pay for your medical costs on her own when it was just her? All the advanced treatments you’d need— it would be too much in her old age.

When told about the Children’s Health Insurance Programs that could easily provide care for you, your grand-dam had just made a sour face and told the Social Worker she was still signing away her rights. Her surviving children were quick to follow her lead.

What a backward system. Niki had growled to himself, pacing in the room. Reading the reports from the insurance company he’d managed to legally bully his way into receiving from your biological family. 

The cabin had burnt down in nearly an hour. You’d been trapped under a metal bed frame when the roof collapsed in on itself. When they’d found you, it had been a recovery effort for bodies. And despite it all, you’d survived, your whimpering and crying alerting the firefighters that you were alive. Severely burnt, with the old mattress and polyester blankets having melted and dripped across your little body as the embers settled. Half of your body severely burnt from where the flames could still reach you. Crying out for your Dam even as you were airlifted to the nearest hospital with a functioning burn ward.

Going over your files has become a habit for first past three days. Ever since Marlene had gone silent when Niki told her that he was going to adopt you, before brusquely starting to order furniture and calling countless contractors that a new pup-friendly room be added to his house in Hof. He’s lucky to at least be considered a friend of his former mate, otherwise, he would be stumbling through his second round of parenting. He looks down at the newest addition to his pack. You. Four and a half. With burns covering an incredible amount of your body. Nearly 45% percent of your torso, completely mangling one of your legs, crawling up your neck and dancing across your jaw. Now lying in a medically-induced coma to conserve your energy. 

You wake up nearly two days later. Five days into Niki’s tenure as your legal sire. Unable to scream. Eyes fixed on Niki as your little chest heaves with the effort it takes to breathe. You pull at your IV and try to snap at a nurse who tries to stop you. But your eyes are still fixed on Niki, likely horrified by his burns. You were glancing at your own bandaged arms and body as if to gauge how you would one day look. 

There is a wild look in your eyes as you look at him. The way you tremble as the doctors try to explain everything. It hurts Niki’s heart, especially with the gasping noise you let out before they sedate you again when you’re still not responding well to anything. Niki wants to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go. You mumble something out as you drift away again, tears in the corners of your eyes. Foggy eyes on the extravagant bouquets of flowers on the tables beside your bed and across the room.

Where is my Dam? 

Early February 2024. Woking.

Your left leg was acting up again. It always did when you were stressed. The fire had mangled it— and that was putting it lightly. Not bad enough to amputate, because that would be too easy, and they didn’t want to send your body into even more shock. So you had your crispy, chicken-fried, useless leg. You could put some weight on it now, after nearly twenty years of intense therapy and correcting surgeries. But it was still incredibly weak. All twisted, mottled skin and a full knee replacement.

That’s what had made it so easy for him. That’s what had made it easy for him to chase you down as you tried to leave every situation that saw him near you. Easily able to keep pace with your shambling, stress-induced walk as you choked on his scent. 

Your upper thigh twinges. The needle pierces your skin all over again. That was the only reason you’d been able to walk away without experiencing a true heat from whatever drug he’d hit you with. The bad, mangled leg of yours. Your downfall and savior. 

The halls are winding, but you can vaguely follow the way to your office from previous talks. You call Lewis the moment you get to the room. There’s already a brand-new mini fridge sitting on your desk, likely from the accommodations you’d listed in the countless documents you’d had to sign when you got hired. 

There’s a few people unboxing your items and they look a bit shocked to see you back from what was supposed to be a much longer meeting.

“Ms Lauda—”

“Leave, please,” you whisper while pacing across the room, trying to calm yourself down. You can feel your scent-blocking, adhesive strips tingling. Your scent glands, especially the damaged ones, threatening to blister from the stress of what just happened. You were going to be sacked for certain. Not only had you yelled at the driver you were meant to work with, you’d also thrown an empty can at him. “I’d like some space.”

The workers, your new assistants, you realize, hurry out, not even catching your mumbled thanks as you tuck yourself into a corner where you can’t be seen from the door. So much different than Williams. So much more support. Lewis doesn’t pick up immediately, but just as you’re about to call again, his contact photo appears on your screen. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay—” Is the first thing you hear, like the protective older brother he’s always situated himself as in your life. “What room are you in? I still haves ways to get into the classified parts of the MTC—” 

“I’m going to fucking kill Lando Norris,” You growl into the phone, and Lewis lets out a relieved noise, before breaking off into a fit of laughter, his voice more distant as if he’s trying to muffle himself. “Don’t laugh! That fucking brat, I should box his goddamn ears, showing up nearly an hour late to what was supposed to be our initial meeting—” 

“Ah, yeah, sounds like Lando!” 

“Fuck off, Lewis,” You whine, and he has the audacity to laugh even harder, because your accent slips, as it always seems to do when you’re with your immediate pack. You can hear him shuffle a bit. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” You concede to him with a soft sigh. You hear the chortling barks of Roscoe in the background of Lewis’s call. “I’m gonna do my job. But I’m gonna hate it. Unless I get switched to Oscar.”

“Don’t sound too hopeful.” Lewis chides on the other side of the phone, and you hear the doorknob jiggle, followed by a soft knock. “Sounds like you have some work to do.” 

He hangs up before you can say something in response to him, leaving the gentle knocking on the door to slowly drive you insane. Likely Andrea or Zak, telling you that you were going to be let go for committing a minor assault against their star driver. 

And you're right, it is Zak. But he looks more concerned than angry with you, immediately putting his hands up in a placating manner when you open the door as if you’re the one with all the power and he’s not the CEO of McLaren Racing, your ultimate boss. Your boss’s boss. The one who bulldozed his way into getting you on the team because he’d seen your work to get at least a modicum of respect back to Williams, and, in his own words, got a good vibe from you.

(And maybe Niki had been in his ear a little bit about it, but when Niki Lauda spoke, people had a habit of listening rather closely to whatever he said.)

“Mr. Brown,” You start formally, leaning down in a way that is traditionally seen as submitting and a very, very formal way to apologize before he starts to squawk in surprise at it all. 

“Don’t– What are you submitting for— are you alright?!”

The last thing you expect is Zak fretting over you like you’re a pup. He’s gently squishing your cheeks with his hands, checking you over, and you can see his nose twitching, as if he’s checking your scent for any signs of distress. Only to look confused by how… clean, you smell.

“Are you— are you still hurt from everything?”

“No, I just,” You take a step backward, and hold up your hands just like he had just been doing for you a few seconds ago. “It’s easier to hide my designation when I smell like this.”

He just looks confused at your explanation but doesn’t seem to question it.

“And you… want to continue hiding it?”

“Preferably.”

Even as you say it, you can see a bit of pity in his eyes. You know his mate is an omega. He has a pup who’s an omega. Both of which he supports wholeheartedly. You’d seen all the articles. Part of you is jealous. Another part just wants everyone to stop caring about what your designation may be. Why should anyone care what you are? 

You’re proud of yourself, regardless of your designation. You’re not some prize to be won! You can stand on your own two feet, you can take care of yourself. You had more than shown that—

Zak is hugging you. Rumbling softly like any parent would do for a distressed pup.

“You don’t have to justify it. I just need to know so I can make sure that no one else is told, aside from our medical people.” He whispers, and you sag against him. Relief fills your mind. “What— what do people think you’ve presented as?”

“Alpha. Like Vati. They think I’m an Alpha.” 

“We can work with that,” Zak pulls away, looking at you. There’s only worry in his eyes. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“Yeah,” You sniffle, not realizing you’d starting to tear up as you look at him. “What is it?”

“Why…. did you throw an empty can of Red Bull at Lando? You’re not in trouble, I just want to know why.”

You flush, and Zak just starts to laugh. 

McLaren is much, much different than Williams.

Lando has been sitting in a chair while Oscar screams at him. Andrea has disappeared. It’s been ten minutes and all he wants to do is curl up and die and apologize for commenting on your voice and being late and not charging his phone and really, every other thing that he’d done wrong, ever.

Yes. He is technically the older one. No, he shouldn’t be acting like such a pup over this.  

Yes. He should know better than to comment on things that people can’t change or help about themselves.

Yes, Oscar, Lando was aware that you had survived a very traumatic house fire that nearly killed you. No, it’s not okay that he called you a robotic bitch. No, he didn’t read the email about the apparent triggers that you had from this event. Frankly, he wasn’t even aware that they had emailed those to him. That seemed like a bit much.

“I mean seriously, Lando! This is ridiculous! Fucking calling her that!” 

It feels like he’s being lectured by his Dam again, her words blending English into Flemish until he can’t tell what she’s saying, just that she’s pissed at him. Instead, it’s just Oscar’s accent getting thicker and thicker until Lando’s certain he’s never heard anyone sound so furious with him, and that’s really saying something. 

“I get it,” Lando whines, letting his head slip so that he can press his forehead against the table. And he does feel bad! Really! “I didn’t know she’d respond like that!”

“Wonderful excuse to be a fuckhead, champ,” Oscar drawls, eyes narrowed. His arms are folded. He looks unimpressed. He smells more, now than ever, of rotting oranges. Lando can imagine the maggots. “I’m shocked you didn’t comment on her designation as well.”

“She’s an alpha! And she smells so medicine-y,” Lando wrinkles his nose, lifting up his head enough to glare at the omega in front of him. Oscar’s face is a blank mask of annoyance, with a flicker of some other mystery emotion. But he can at least tell what he’s thinking because he can smell his displeasure from across the room. It’s all rotten oranges, burning rubber, and singed hair. “C’mon! I didn’t know it’d set her off that much, man!”

“Commenting on traumatic events tends to do that to people.”

“How was I supposed to know it was traumatic?!”

“Wow, you really didn’t read any of the emails,” Oscar lets out a low huff, sitting across from Lando in one of the plush office chairs. “We’ve been in talks with her for weeks!”

“You were in talks with her, maybe,” Lando says snidely, narrowing his gaze at the omega across from him, “I didn’t think I needed a new race engineer, yet here we are. But you seemed awfully interested when you heard she was looking for a new team.”

Oscar scoffs. His cheeks turn slightly pink. “No, I wasn’t. She’s a good friend. I thought she’d be a good fit for the team.”

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you have such an obvious crush on her? I bet Logan even helped set you up,” Lando knows he’s been a dick again. But he’s frustrated. He’ll get lectured by his therapist for this later, and he’s okay with that. He just needs to make Oscar squirm a little for his high-and-mighty attitude. “You want her pups, I bet. Already have the first three named.”

“Fuck off,” Oscar snarls, and Lando decides to keep digging a bit more. “It’s not like that! Besides— I’m courting someone!”

An awkward silence settles between the two. Oscar’s flushed pink. And Lando starts to grin. All evil like, in Oscar’s opinion. Gleefully, in his own. 

"Oh, but it is!” Lando chimes, his voice all sing-songy. He’s in full older brother mode. He knows exactly what to do to push Oscar’s buttons now that his teammate has shown his weakness. He’s done this with his sisters. And Oscar’s probably used to being the one doing the tormenting, as his family’s oldest pup. “You like her!” And then, with a very dramatic gasp, “Oh, you’re probably courting her! No wonder you wanted her here!”

Without so much as a warning, the Australian driver leaps at him with a snarl the moment the words are out of his mouth. They’re both tussling on the ground, before it turns into the two of them in their canine forms, snapping and snarling at each other. This is when Andrea decides to make a reappearance, looking a bit startled to see a mousy-brown wolf and a dark-brown wolf rolling around on the floor of the conference room. Oscar is large for an omega in his canine form, but still smaller than Lando. Lando is wirey, not as bulky as many would expect an Alpha to be. It’s rather evenly matched, considering how often the two of them are training. 

One moment, Lando has Oscar pinned. Another, Oscar has him pinned. Snarling and biting and kicking until the door opens again, and now it’s Andrea, Zak, and yourself watching the two of them wrestle until you fearlessly walk into the fray and grab Oscar by one of his hind legs.

Oscar turns human again immediately, hitting the ground with a loud ‘oof’ while Lando scurries away, watching as you start to lecture the other driver as he stands up. Your tone is hushed, but it’s clear that this seems to be a common occurrence between the two of you. You’re leaning over him, and the rumblings of annoyance and displeasure are clear as day.

Lando can’t help but smirk as the other man makes fleeting eye contact with him as you sit on his side of the table, taking your place as his engineer, despite your obvious contempt for him. 

“Now, let's get to business…” Andrea sighs. You keep your eyes ahead. Hands folded neatly in front of you. Letting his words blur until you feel Oscar gently tugging on your arm. He looks concerned, and you smile tiredly at him. Only just remembering the promise of cuddling in his nest with him when this was all done. 

You don’t even care if you look or act nothing like the Alpha that Lando thinks you are. You just slump against Oscar with a grumpy half-whine as he hoists you over his shoulder. The other driver lets out a loud snort at that, and your friend only glares at him, about to say something else before you bring one of your hands to tap his cheek lightly.

“Just get to th’nest,” You mumble, leaning against him. Your leg aches. You don’t want to walk. “Wanna get th’blockers off.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oscar sighs, glaring at Lando over his shoulder before walking past with you in his arms. You don’t care about how it looks. You’ll deal with it later. And before you know it, you’re curled in the world’s comfiest nest, all in shades of orange and black. With the comforting scent of sweet tangerines and charcoal. Oscar hands you a nice little bottle of micellar water to help get the sticky adhesive of the blockers off, much more gentle with your skin than you ever are with yourself. He’s even soaked cotton rounds to make it a bit easier to apply, gently rubbing them across your scarred glands to clear any remnants of the adhesive off of your skin.

The smells of mountain rain and fresh baked peach cobbler mix with Oscar’s scent as you stretch, rubbing your cheeks tiredly.

You let yourself relax then. Sinking deep into the soft pillows as Oscar comes to spoon you from behind. A commonplace action, and had been since he started to get more and more bold with you in his attempts to court you. 

You can hear Oscar start to Facetime someone, probably Logan. But you honestly don’t care all that much— he’s there, and you’ll give your friend a full debrief, of course, after you’ve fully rested. 

“Your leg acting up?”

Oscar nudges you, and you grumble, trying to press your face further into the plushness of the nest, voice muffled by pillows. “Who cares if it is?”

“I do.”

“So do I!” Logan chimes in from the phone, and you roll over enough to glare at him. “Did you take all your meds, mouse?”

“Unfortunately, yes. So I’m afraid you’ll just have to put me down at this point—”

You don’t even have time to respond as Oscar cuffs your ear. You let out a dramatic whine, actually letting yourself act on your instinctual noises. Nothing hurts, of course. Oscar’s always been gentle, making sure nothing actually hurts when he wrestles with you or cuffs your ears. 

“Did you have to get my bad ear?” You whine, looking accusingly at the Aussie who just grins down at you, cuffing the same ear once again. “I’m gonna tell Lewis.”

“He doesn’t scare me, and besides, he’d probably agree with me! All, ‘C’mon, Mousey, that’s not how your therapist said to cope with your trauma—”

“That’s a bit scary, how accurate that was,” You prop yourself up to glare at your dear friend, only to smile broadly at him. You can’t help it, really. He manages to make you smile, even when you feel like shit. And even when he cuffs your bad ear by mistake, after swearing he won’t do it again.

In truth, the ear looks almost melted. It’s usually carefully hidden by your personal stylist, with hair masterfully combed over it. The skin around it— luckily missing your scalp— was mottled and pink. What was left of your ear was little more than a small ridge of skin and cartilage at this point, and was much the same in your canine appearance, just more dramatic without all the fur. The upper half of your ear was utterly gone, along with most of the lobe. It was the ear you were deaf in. 

“Can it even hurt if you’re deaf?”

“Yeah! Doesn’t mean it’s gone numb to the feeling,” you pout, looking at him as he sets his chin on your shoulder. Logan giggles from FaceTime. He’s set up somewhere, Williams blue all around him that makes you avert your gaze but continue talking to him nonetheless. “Ugh. Logan, I almost killed Lando.”

“She threw a can of Red Bull at him,” Oscar clarifies, to his rather shocked-looking boyfriend and courting partner. To his credit, it takes a few seconds before Logan starts to cackle.  

“It was empty!” You protest back, but there’s a wide smile on your face as you hazard a glance at your former partner. “He was being a little bitch!”

“Should I be offended I didn’t get the same treatment my first day?” Logan’s voice crackles and his face is frozen on the screen with a mix of a confused look and smirk, before serenading both of you with a jumbled, robotic mess before the call abruptly ends. 

“Stupid wifi,” Oscar mumbles, pulling the phone away to text his boyfriend to see what happened. You just settle back into your side of the nest, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off while Oscar’s comforting scent wafts over in you waves. You could just about fall asleep when there’s a gentle knock at the door, followed by Andrea poking his head in. 

He blinks at the two of you. You blink back at him, already knowing you won't be able to take a much-needed like you had originally planned.

“Ah! Ms Lauda— can I speak with you for a second?”

“Can I do it from here?” you try to press yourself deeper into Oscar’s nest. You’d need to find a place to make one here— a nice, private room. Somewhere you can easily reapply your scent blockers and can fully surrender to your instincts until you were comfortable with more people knowing about your designation. “Took off my blockers.”

“Of course. I just wanted to check in, make sure everything was alright after… how the meeting went.”

There’s a hearty pause. As if he can tell you’re thinking over your words carefully.

“It certainly… went.”

“Ah. And… no other comments?”

“I meant what I said. You baby Lando.” You shift slightly. Tiredly. Giving the team principal the trademark Lauda stare from where you’re comfortably curled into the nest. So soft, yet so harsh at the same time.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to fix that,” Andrea smiles politely at you, and ducks out of the room without another word. You just settle deeper into Oscar’s nest, wondering what in the hell you’d gotten yourself into. The only thing on your mind when you finally manage to fall asleep is how much you miss your mother's fresh peach cobbler.

tags: @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @st0rmzi3 @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @seonghwaexile @mrsmelinda

[blondwhxrewrites]

✨My Stiles Stilinski Headcanons✨

Is absolutely enamored by you and he had no idea how to talk to you at first without becoming an awkward mess. When you first met him Scott literally had to pull him away from you because he just kept on staring at you

Helps you with homework and school projects because it gives him an excuse to spend time with you and he also gets to show off how smart he is

You are the only person he shares his food with

He forces you to binge-watch Star Wars with him, and if he finds out you already liked Star Wars he's ecstatic

He is a Percy Jackson reader and prefers it over Harry Potter!!!!!!!

Is always late to dates because of his time blindness but he tries hard to make it on time!

Tells you about his ongoing cases and theories and encourages you to put your input in and is extremely proud whenever one of your theories turns out to be correct

Noah of course has his reservations at first since he obviously worries about his son, but once he sees you two together he instantly loves you

You become a part of the pack almost instantly

Lydia, Malia, and Addison (depending on the season) instantly take you in. You best believe you are invited to all of the sleepovers and shopping trips

Literally, everyone has no idea how Stiles managed to bag you. Stiles has no idea either

Is a mix of sassy men apocalypse™ and golden retriever vibes

No, just because he loves you does not mean you are safe from his witty retorts or sarcastic comments

He gets you a matching metal bat so you can protect yourself

Is wary of taking you along on cases because he worries you might get hurt. He especially worries after what happened with Void

Is the little spoon most of the time because he loves being held. He feels so safe whenever he is in your arms. With you he finally doesn't wake up every night from nightmares

He has a lot of deeply rooted trauma from losing his mom, and from everything that has happened to him since sophomore year

Will talk about random nonsense and then stop in the middle of the conversation because he notices you are actually listening to him instead of just ignoring him like other people do and he swears he falls in love with you all over again 🥹

Has panic attacks, and you are one of the few people who can instantly calm him down by just being near him

Loves talking to you about his mother. He even takes you to her grave and introduces you to her

Later he finds out that you go to her grave weekly and put flowers there and when he asks you why you do that you just say 'Because you love her and that means I love her too' and he sobs.

Noah also finds that out and he instantly knows that you are the one for his son. He is proud to call you his future child in-law

Loves PDA and has no problem holding your hand, or kissing you in public

He always needs to be touching you in some sort of way even if it's just holding your hand or resting his hand on your thigh

You are so supportive of his want to be in the FBI! He loves knowing that you'll always be cheering him on

You go to every single lacrosse game and cheer him on even if he doesn't get put in you are still yelling his name and cheering for him

You wear his jersey number all the time and he secretly loves it

Make outs in the jeep

Everything in the jeep

Overall 10/10 boyfriend

[moonstruckme]

hey :)) first off, i love the hozier caption in your bio. second, I’ve been reading so many of your fics recently and i think you’re sooo talented! i wanna be like you when I grow up (im 20 almost 21 lol)

anyways, I’ve never really requested anything but i wanna give it a try. I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader fic or a just remus x reader fic where’s she’s driving and accidentally hits an animal and is really upset about it but they’re there to help to her move it and comfort her.

i just hit a cat and im not taking it well. we think it was just a stray cause I left my number with it in case but no one has called. my family kinda, but not really, made fun of me for being so sad about it and i kinda just need something with the guys being so affectionate and loving with her after everything.

it’s totally okay if youre not up to it! I understand that it’s such a hard topic so I won’t be offended if you don’t feel comfortable writing in this.

thank you again and im sooo looking forward to youre future work!! you’re talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before (lady gaga)

Mwah mwah mwah <3<3

-aves

(sorry this is so long)

Hi sweetheart, thank you so much! (Is your username a Lizzy McAlpine reference? I love that) I'm really sorry you went through this, I've been fortunate enough to have never hit an animal but I've seen it happen and it's so horrible, I'm really sorry you've been dealing with this :(( I think you did the right thing by leaving your number with it, and I hope the weight of that trauma and grief is starting to lift off you my love. Thank you for requesting <3

cw: mention of killing an animal, reader feeling guilty

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

James hears the door and is up instantly, bounding down the hall to greet you and Sirius. 

“Hello!” he calls ahead, eager for company after being left alone in your flat for over a half hour. “You guys took your time today, I thought even Remus might beat you home. Was traffic a riot, or…”

Sirius is looking at him with panic in his blue-gray eyes, clearly trying to convey one of those telepathic messages James has never been great at interpreting, and you…you’re looking at nothing. Your gaze is distant as you work off your shoe, the area around your eyes puffy and gray with smudged mascara. 

“Hey,” James breathes, then feels stupid. It sounds like he’s accusing you of something. He tries again. “Is everything okay?” 

Sirius gives him a look that says What do you think? and crouches beside you to help with a stubborn knot in your shoelace. Your hands are trembling, James notices. Dread settles like a stone in his stomach.

“I’ve got it,” Sirius murmurs to you, fingers gentle as they intercept your own, but the alarm doesn’t leave his expression as he watches your face. Ah. As much as it kills James to see you upset, Sirius will have no idea what to do with you in this state. Tears have always set him on edge. 

James squats, joining the two of you on the floor. “Hi, sweetheart.” He does his best to keep his own anxiety out of his voice as his hand finds your ankle, fingers wrapping around the bit of skin between the hem of your jeans and your socks. “Has something happened?” 

Your eyes meet his already full of tears, and James braces himself. Sirius does too, by the look of it, his shoulders tensing as he watches your face like you’re about to crumble away to nothing right here on their doormat. 

“I—” That’s all you get out before you have to bite down on your lip to keep from crying. A tiny whimper escapes, and spider web cracks spread across James’ heart. A sluggish tear leaks from your right eye. 

“It’s okay,” he swears, though he has no way of knowing it. You press the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to quell the sobs that shake your frame even with no air to feed them. “Oh, honey.” James leans forward, wrapping you in an awkward but very heartfelt hug, your knees between his chest and yours but your head crossing the distance to wet his shoulder with your tears. 

A sympathetic pressure builds in James’ sinuses, but he does his best to breathe through it. Stability tends to help you more than sympathy in these situations, and since Remus isn’t home yet, it’s left to James to be the reasonable one (Sirius would have all sorts of jokes to make about that, but he doesn’t seem to be feeling up to them either). 

He gives you a few moments of reprieve, a few passes of his palm up and down your spine, before trying again. “What’s going on?” he asks, gently as he can. “You guys are scaring me. Sirius?” 

Sirius’ brow pinches like he almost doesn’t want to say it either, and the anticipation in James’ chest heavies. “We were driving home,” he says slowly, keeping a wary eye on you lest he worsen your upset, “and a rabbit ran in front of the car.” 

Relief nearly chokes James at the same time as a sympathetic sorrow takes ahold of him. He pets the back of your head. You tremble with the force of your crying, leaning into his touch greedily. 

“She was driving?” he asks quietly, though he’s nearly sure. If your reaction isn’t enough to go off of, he already knows that you usually pick Sirius up from work and drive the both of you home. 

Sirius nods. 

“It doesn’t sound like there was anything you could do,” he murmurs to you, cupping the back of your neck to encourage you to look up at him. You do, sniffling as your lip quivers, and James uses his thumb to brush a wet streak of mascara from your blotchy cheek. 

“It must have been so scared.” Your voice breaks on the last word and James’ heart along with it, leaving a throbbing wound in the center of his chest. 

“I doubt it had time to be scared, honey,” he tries to reassure you, but his own voice is fraught. He looks to Sirius. “Did you…do you know if it…passed?” 

Sirius is half hiding behind his hair, a sure tell of his disquiet, and it brushes his shirt collar when he nods again. “We weren’t sure at first, so I got out to move it off the road. It was dead.” He winces at his wording, and you bite down on your lip harshly. His tone softens as he addresses you. “I really don’t think it felt any pain.”

You look nowhere near ready to believe him, and James is preparing to offer to make you a cup of tea and let you sort out your grief at your own pace when the front door opens again, stopping when it hits Sirius’ side. 

“Oh.” Remus pokes his head through. “Hello. Why are we all sitting on the floor?” 

Sirius scoots the rest of the way out of the door’s path before deciding to stand instead. He speaks to Remus in a low voice while James runs a hand up and down your side in an attempt to soothe you. He locks eyes with Remus over your shoulder, watching as the taller boy’s gaze takes on the weight of understanding. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Remus wraps Sirius in a half-hug, kissing his surprised boyfriend on the temple before stooping beside you. “That must have been awful to have to see. Let’s get you up, yeah?” He wraps a spindly hand around your forearm, more encouragement than anything, and James grips your other hand as he stands to pull you up with him. 

Neither of them seem quite willing to break contact with you, walking you over to the couch like a newborn fawn despite your murmured I’m okay. Sirius follows close behind. The both of you look like you’re perching rather than sitting, unable to completely relax even now that you’re home. 

“It must have been quite a scare,” Remus sympathizes, sitting on the edge of his favored armchair. 

“A bit,” Sirius mutters, and your throat bobs. 

Remus cocks his head. “What’re you thinking, darling?” 

James almost wants to look away at the rawness in your expression as you raise your eyes to meet Remus’. “I just…I can’t believe I killed it. I’ve never” —your voice pitches, and you swallow again— “I’ve never killed anything before.”

 “It was an accident,” James tells you, beseeching. 

“You couldn’t have stopped,” Sirius says. His voice has an odd, desperate quality to it, and James sees Remus notice it at the same time as he does, both boys leaning forward to see Sirius better. For the first time, James notices—had he missed it before, or has it only just started?—that Sirius is trembling slightly too. James’ free hand twitches instinctively toward him, but his dark-haired boyfriend is only touchy when he’s in a good mood. He’s not keen on physical comfort; no matter how many years James has worked on him, Sirius has always preferred to keep his struggles internal. “Or avoided it,” he goes on. “It happened too fast.” 

Remus nods at you. “As awful as it is, these things happen sometimes. Hopefully,” he adds when another tear slips down your cheek, “never again to you, but selfish as it is, I’m glad you didn’t slam on the brakes or anything else that could have gotten you and Sirius hurt instead.” 

You glance at Sirius, and he gives you a weak smile, taking your hand and squeezing gently. 

“Nothing you could have done,” he whispers. 

Your lips tremble again. James watches as panic flashes in Sirius’ eyes, but he keeps it together. “I’m really sorry,” you tell him, voice wavering. “I shouldn’t have made you take care of the bunny by yourself.” 

James' chest aches as Sirius takes a steadying breath. “You were frazzled. Understandably upset,” he corrects himself, squeezing your hand again. This time you squeeze back. “It was a one-man job anyway.” 

You make a soft sound, leaning your head on his shoulder, and James has the sense something has settled a bit in each of you. He raises your joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of yours as Remus’ eyebrows furrow. 

“Have you had a chance to wash your hands, love?” he asks Sirius, who blinks.

“No. I forgot.” 

Despite the heavy atmosphere, James actually feels the beginnings of a smile tempting his lips as he watches Remus forcibly quell his horror. “Right, then. Why don’t we go do that in the kitchen now, and I’ll make us all some tea.” 

“Good idea,” James says heartily, swiping his thumb back and forth over his own kiss on your hand. “Hey, could we take out the good cookies as well?” 

Remus hums what James chooses to interpret as assent, shepherding Sirius into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” you say to James once the other two are out of hearing. 

He looks down at you. “What for, sweetheart?” 

You shrug, your shoulders remaining just a tad too high after the motion. You’ve stopped crying, and James is grateful, but he doesn’t think this shameful look is a vast improvement. “I feel like I’m being dramatic. And Sirius is the one who had to see it. He had to drive home too, I was too upset.” 

James’ battered, broken heart wells for the both of you. He forgoes his attentions to your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders instead to tuck you against his side. “You’re not being dramatic,” he promises, “okay? You and Sirius were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you both had to witness something awful.” Your head sinks onto his shoulder, and he rubs your upper arm. “I think it’s alright to be sad for a while. For yourselves, and for the bunny. Just, don’t torment yourself, alright?” He withdraws enough to see your face, and you tilt your gaze up to his. “Please. You don’t deserve the guilt.” 

Your eyes cast down, contemplative and a bit shy, a moment before your head comes back to its spot on his shoulder. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

“No thanks necessary, babe. You can cry all night if you need to, I’ll be right here. Just do me a favor,” he lowers his voice, glancing toward the kitchen, “let me sit between you and Sirius if you do. Many more tears and I think he’ll have a heart attack.”

[taeyongdoyoung]

mind games

summary: taken away by your ex and best friend, you try to do everything in your power to survive another day... characters: reader, sunoo, sunghoon and heeseung (only mentioned in this part) genre: thriller, dark romance(-ish) warnings: kidnapping, reader is tied up (in a non-sexy way), mentions of fake blood, stalking, spitting, handwriting forgery, hidden cameras, invasion of privacy, blade, overall toxic behaviour, kissing, manipulation, biting, tracking device, trauma author's note: hii guys, the title is inspired by this iconic song and to be honest, i had a really hard time writing it due to some bad experiences in the past so if any of this is triggering to you, please proceed with caution! 🤍 part one & part three word count: 2.6k

You wake up in a unfamiliar place. You feel that your hands and feet and are tied up to a chair. Your surroundings are damp, near black and you can barely make out anything. You wonder if you are alone or if one of your kidnappers is somewhere out there, lurking in the dark.

How on earth did you end up here? You thought you were generally a good person. True, you started dating the guy you told your ex "not to worry about" three months after the break-up but it’s not like you cheated. Then again, bad things had the tendency of happening to good people. So maybe it’s not your fault you’re here. You’re right. It’s Sunghoon and Sunoo’s fault!

Sunghoon, you can understand. He’d always been a jealous, possessive little freak. But Sunoo? To pretend he’s your best friend and work with Sunghoon behind your back? Damnit, you should have investigated suspect number two more seriously before trusting him too much. That part is completely your fault, you admit to yourself.

"You awake?" you hear Sunoo’s adorable voice, which does little to ease your panic.

"Gee, I had a crazy nightmare, Sunnie. Dreamt that my best friend kidnapped me along with my ex. Isn’t that a good story?" you respond sarcastically.

"Listen, it would have been much easier if you came with us willingly," Sunoo pats your cheek gently.

"Willingly? How insane are you, actually?"

"Come oooon, me and Sunghoon-hyung can treat you so much better than Heeseung."

You shake your head in disbelief.

"Just tell me one thing. Were you behind the stalking as well?"

"Which part? Sunghoon took the photos of you and stole some of your clothes. But the creepy dolls covered in blood was all me."

First of all, ew. Second of all, WHAT THE FUCK?

"Where did you get the blood from?" you finally dare to ask.

"It’s fake blood, silly. It looks so real, right?" Sunoo cackles maniacally.

"You need help. Like serious, professional help, Sunoo. I’m only saying that because despite everything I still care about you. If you get me out of here, I’ll make sure you receive the proper treatment you need and-"

"Get you out?" he laughs again. "Why would I do that? We can be such a lovely family of three. Trust me, you’ll never want to leave."

You already want to leave.

Hours later, Sunghoon appears and Sunoo leaves. You suppose kidnappers still have jobs to go to whenever they’re not spending time with their victims. God, this is so wrong.

"How have you been, princess?" Sunghoon asks.

You don’t reward him with an answer and spit in his face. Very dumb of you but oh well.

Sunghoon wipes the spit with his gloved hand and squats in front of you.

"Not a very enthusiastic welcome, I see. Don’t worry, I’ll be patient. You’ll get used to us in no time."

"I’m not getting used to anything. Let me the fuck go!"

"Hmm, I don’t think so," Sunghoon wraps his arms around your legs like a fucking snake. He may not have bitten you but you feel his poison spreading further down your body. What if you’re meant to suffocate here?

"It’s only a matter of time before Heeseung calls the cops and they find me," you bluff. You can only hope Heeseung will come for you.

"He probably won’t. See, I wrote him a little letter. You remember how good I am at copying your handwriting? Well, I never thought it’d come in…well, pun-intended but handy. In the letter I tell Heeseung that you’re still in love with me so you’re leaving him and ran away with me. I’m so creative, aren’t I?"

"You’re sick in the head! Heeseung’s never gonna buy that!" you scream and you pray you’re right.

"Wanna check? I put hidden cameras at your place, if Heeseung was there, we can see his reaction."

God, this is worse than you thought. You really should have contacted the police earlier. Helpful or not, it would have been something.

And indeed, Sunghoon shows you a video of Heeseung opening said letter, reading it and then sighing deeply. Alas, he doesn't look in a huge hurry to find you. Or maybe, he's just that good of an actor...

"What are you going to do to me?" you ask Sunghoon, horrified now that your hope of Heeseung finding you diminishes by the hour.

"Nothing," Sunghoon replies simply. "I just wanna be with you. Away from him." The him in question is Heeseung, you deduce. "Forever."

The word forever never tasted so bitter.

"What about Sunoo? Why is he helping you?"

"I think he has a little crush on me. So I'm using him," Sunghoon shrugs, as if it's the simplest answer in the world.

First of all, a little crush is definitely an understatement. No one helps his best friend's ex kidnap his best friend over a little crush. Sunoo's feelings are reaching a dangerous magnitude. You don't dare imagine how far he'd be willing to go for Sunghoon's sake. And second of all, the fact that Sunghoon's using Sunoo and doesn't reciprocate his feelings might be helpful for you in the future. So, you tuck that information safely into your mind for later.

But until then, you gotta play the game well enough in order to survive. You never know when Sunghoon or Sunoo might snap and feel like killing you. Psychopaths like that are totally unpredictable. So, you make it your mission to smoothly pretend you have zero plans of escaping.

"Poor Sunoo," you sigh, targeting Sunghoon's jealousy issues. "And here I thought he had a crush on me and wants to share me with you."

"As beautiful as you are, not everyone on this plaent is madly in love with you, princess," Sunghoon laughs, suddenly amused by your words. "And if it's anyone doing the sharing, it'd be me. But I don't share."

He smirks darkly and kisses you. His lips are venomous poison. You kiss him back even though every bone in your body is telling you no. But after being so foolish before, you have to be clever enough now. Clever enough to trick him. Clever enough to live.

Sunghoon wraps his hands around the back of your neck, kissing you more deeply. Your tongue battles against his desperately, trying to convey every bit of your hatred and make him mistake it for love. He's laughing against your lips. But you're determined to make sure you have the last laugh.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sunghoon chuckles in disbelief you kissed him back.

Yes! Y/N: 1. Sunghoon: 0.

"You taste just as I remember. Coffee."

"Your favourite taste," Sunghoon nods thoughtfully.

You don't dare tell him that lately, you like ramen more...

"You should be nice to Sunoo," you advise Sunghoon, even though it won't help you. Not immediately, anyway. "You never know when he might turn against you."

"He won't. But I'm nice enough. Or else he wouldn't have helped me in the first place."

"When did you two become so close anyway?"

"Right after you broke up with me. He would constantly call me and meet up in secret. He'd keep me posted on how you were doing. Show me pictures and stuff. He said that just because you and I were no longer together didn't mean that he couldn't be friends with me."

That sly little fox. And here you were, mistaking Sunoo for your best friend. Then again, you are no saint, either, considering you moved on with Heeseung so quickly. But after the way Sunghoon had treated you, it was only natural you were drawn by Heeseung's warmth.

"Interesting. How does he put up with your mint choco-hating ass?" you tease Sunghoon.

"He's strangely forgiving in that respect," Sunghoon responds.

You smile fondly, recalling all your mint choco dates with your best friend. You will never forgive him.

A while later, Sunoo returns, immediately brightening up the room with his presence. But now you know it's all a façade. The real him is not the sun, but the darkest sky.

"Heyyy, hyung, missed me?" he greets Sunghoon.

"So much, sunshine," Sunghoon ruffles Sunoo's hair, the action so smooth and affectionate it gives you goosebumps. You aspire to be such a talented actress.

"Did noona give you trouble?" Sunoo asks teasingly.

"Not really, she's quite docile now," Sunghoon shrugs, not suspecting anything.

"I'm right here, you know?" you roll your eyes.

"Aww, Y/Nnie, don't be jealous, it's not a good quality," Sunoo messes with you.

Pfft. If there's anyone guilty of jealousy in this room, it's definitely not you.

"As much as I hate to leave you two angels all alone, I have business to attend to," Sunghoon announces. "Take care of her, yeah?"

"Will do!" Sunoo promises excitedly.

Once alone with Sunoo, you set your sinister plan in motion.

"Sunnie, you do realize Sunghoon's only using you, right? He told me so himself. He'll never love you. He's incapable of loving anyone but himself."

"Why would I believe you?" Sunoo snickers. "You'd say anything to get me to untie you."

"Screw that, you know I like things like that," you joke. Though you prefer things like that in a safe, consensual environment, it doesn't hurt to try misleading Sunoo.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Sunoo squeezes your cheeks affectionately.

You sigh deeply. Okay, you're gonna have to try harder.

"Haven't you asked yourself why Sunghoon's always wearing gloves? So he can leave no fingerprints! Meanwhile, you're spreading your DNA all over the crime scene."

"This isn't a crime scene, we're just making a home for ourselves!" Sunoo shouts in denial. "And...h-hyung likes gloves, they're a fashion statement. They look hot on him!"

"When the police finds us, Sunghoon won't be here and he'll make you take the fall for it," you hypothesize

"What do you mean when?" Sunoo is starting to panic a little now. "They won't find us. No one knows where we are. Right?"

You smile sinisterly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

A while later, Sunoo leaves again and you remain alone with Sunghoon. Your worst nightmare.

"Hi, princess," he kisses you, as if what you two have is completely normal. As if it's okay. You kiss him back, as if you mean it. As if you love him back. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, splendid. My favourite place in the world," you chuckle bitterly.

"Ever the spoiled brat, I see. At least I'm giving you food and water, no?"

"Ah, yes, I'm living the dream," you keep responding sarcastically. But nothing too bad, you're still afraid he might snap. Also, you haven't mentioned Heeseung since you got here. You figured it would just be poking the bear or something. So, you play nice. Or as nice as you can be, given the circumstances.

"You know, this could be so much easier if you just cooperated. I could even untie you someday. We could go to Paris, I know how much you've wanted to go there. We could go back to the way we used to be. Just us two."

"What about Sunoo?"

"Well, he can tag along, I don't mind."

"What, like Bonnie and Clyde and their pet or some shit?" Except, you'd be the fucking pet 'cause you're no criminal.

"Yeah, that sounds nice, don't you think?"

It does sound nice. But you'll never agree to this. Even if Sunghoon was the last man on Earth, you still wouldn't go with him anywhere willingly. He lost not only your trust but your heart. And he's never getting it back. But you pretend anyways.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing," you lie through your teeth. "Maybe we'll get there one day."

"You can learn to love me again," Sunghoon says it not as a question but as a statement. And with such conviction it almost makes you sad. Almost.

"I can," you repeat the lie as if hypnotized. But he can't. Because this isn't love. It's obsession, dark and twisted, and you would do anything in your power to escape its deadly grasp.

Sunghoon kisses you and you bite his lips angrily in the process. He mistakes it for passion. Good. Let him be the fool. You've been playing that role yourself for too long. It's his turn now.

Hours melt into days. You know that the police requires at least 48 hours to start looking for a missing person so you try to be patient when waiting. But patience has a limit and Sunghoon is getting on your nerves more and more with every second. Sunoo, as well, with him pretending he's the sweetest bean ever but actually the devil in disguise. You just wish you could be found and rescued already. You desperately wish you could be back in the safety of Heeseung's arms. But you know it won't be that easy.

Throughout your stay here, you try your best to ensure you'll make it out alive. Sunghoon or Sunoo only untie to let you take care of your natural needs and don't take any chances so there is no opportunity for you to investigate where exactly you're located, let alone try to escape. But that's besides the point. You have a plan. And you just hope it doesn't go to shit.

"Just let me go, Sunoo, if you don't, you'll regret it, I promise you," you keep pleading with him gently.

"Why would I regret it?" Sunoo traces his blade alongside your neck. Damn, he's addicted to that thing.

"I can't tell you," you smile cruelly.

"If you don't tell me, I'll hurt you," he threatens you vaguely.

"You already did," mentally you mean. "But if you actually use that blade on me, Sunghoon won't be very happy with you. Do you want to make him angry?"

Sunoo shakes and takes a step back, dropping the blade. He's been creeping you out and yet, still...such a sweet child. God, you're conflicted.

On the fifth day, the miracle happens. Storming inside is a whole crew of cops, whom you previously distrusted (okay, lesson learned) and Heeseung comes along with them. You are quickly untied and a medic checks for any injuries (there aren't any physical ones, other than the mental trauma that comes with being kidnapped and stalked by your ex and former best friend).

How were you found so fast, one may ask? Well, you were slightly wary of Sunoo. Heeseung, you never doubted. So, the day before you waited awake for Sunghoon to arrive, you asked Heeseung to help you install a tracking device inside your skin. Your gut feeling was telling you that if something bad were to happen to you, your phone would be destroyed. A small chip, however, would be difficult to notice. The device got slightly damaged in the process of being kidnapped, so it was difficult for the police and Heeseung to catch a signal rightaway. Which is why it took five days. But still, you consider yourself somewhat lucky. Some people remain kidnapped for years...Others are never found.

Regrettably, Sunghoon is nowhere to be located. That bastard. They apprehend Sunoo quickly and he claims that he did it all by himself. Fucking idiot, why is he so loyal to Sunghoon? You insist that he worked together with your ex but the cops say that you might be so traumatized you're hallucinating another person. Why is that, you wonder? Oh, wait. 'Cause there are no fucking fingerprints of Sunghoon's, of course. Those stupid gloves of his may be the smartest thing he's ever done.

You know that you'll have to work harder to make sure Sunghoon is detained as soon as possible. You know that you'll somehow have to convince Sunoo to testify against Sunghoon. You know that your creepy ex won't give you up so easily. You know that you'll have to be smarter, more resilient and perhaps more careful who you trust.

Right now, your mind is your biggest weapon to play this sick game. But it doesn't end here. This is just the beginning.

To be continued...

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

why do we go back?

damian wayne x reader

warnings: anxiety, kind of a panic attack?, implied past trauma/abuse

wc: 800

~~

“I went back.”

“Why? They—”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why. I—” 

“Damian, honey, breathe.” 

-

Damian’s brothers don’t text you that often. You don’t have their numbers saved in your phone. Or you didn’t. You have Tim’s now. 

come to the manor now. non-medical emergency 

oh and this is tim by the way 

You don’t even see the text until you’re done with your meeting, phone on do not disturb and notes document in fullscreen mode. It was sent at 1:30 in the afternoon. Bad things aren’t supposed to happen at 1:30 in the afternoon. 

I’m on my way, you text back at 3:00. Is he okay? The response comes as you’re setting up your gps. no. then, i mean he’s fine but no. You pull out of your parking spot a little faster than you should have. 

Once you get on the highway, you turn off the GPS. The number 21 exit towards Bristol and Wayne manor is nearly as familiar as your own. You’re thankful for the dozens of trips you’ve made because Tim calls you five minutes in. 

“What happened?” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. The anxiety that had taken root when you saw the first text is morphing quickly into fear. 

“He disappeared.” 

“What?” 

“He’s not on manor grounds anymore. But he’s not in his suit.” 

On top of the phone call screen, a push notification lets you know that Damian's code was used to disarm your alarm system. You let out a short breath and switch lanes. Your exit is the next one. 

“I know where he is,” you tell Tim as you shift over into the right lane. It’s a little backed up, the way it always is this time of day, “I got him.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You take exit 24 towards the lower east side, then switch to an even more local highway and take exit 8 towards the residential district. When you pull into your parking spot in the cul-de-sac, your house looks empty. When you walk inside, Damian’s combat boots are sitting by the door, not unlaced all the way. One of them is sitting on its side. The other is askew. You let your bag slide off your shoulder to hit the ground next to your own shoes and venture further in. 

Damian’s sitting on the steps in dark casual clothes and white socks with a paint blob pattern. His knees are bent, legs pressed against his chest. Your steps aren’t steep and Damian is very tall. Hands clenched into fists rest on top of his knees. His neck is bent too, forehead pressed against his fists. 

You slide back on the wooden steps when you sit down. Damian doesn’t so much as twitch. You wait for him to come to you. He does. 

“I went back.” His voice is rough but not thick with tears. 

“Why?” You ask. The League leaves him with deep hurts every time he goes back to Nanda Parbat. And not the physical kind. “They—”

“I don’t know!” He exclaims like the words burst out of his chest. The energy propels him up, fingers digging into the arms of his sweatshirt as he rocks on his heels. “I don’t know why. I—” 

“Damian, honey,” You stand to meet him. The emotions in his green eyes are wild, untethered. “Breathe.” He shakes his head at you, fingers curling harder into his sleeves. “You can.” Damian scans your body language and you let him, relaxing the tension in your shoulders and leaving your hands open, arms angled to hold him if he wants it. 

“I’m here,” you say to the hesitation in his eyes. “You’re safe.”

You let out a grunt of air as Damian slams into you. His arms wrap around you tight enough that you think he’s afraid you’ll turn into smoke if he lets go. You raise your arms more slowly, one coming up to rub at his back and the other to cup the back of his neck.His knees buckle. You slow your descent to the ground only barely, saving your knees from catching the brunt of your weight. Your butt stings instead from how hard it hit the floor but it’s worth it when Damian buries his face into the junction between your neck and your collarbone and breathes. They’re choppy loud breaths that come with shoulders shuddering under the hand you have rubbing up and down his back, but no tears hit your neck. 

“I’ve got you,” you whisper to him, cheek pressed against the top of his head. “You’re safe here.” Damian’s arms only tighten further. In response, you hold him tighter too. 

Why do we go back, you wonder, when we know the only thing to come of it is more pain? 

[nowimjustastranger]

Omg I just saw your somebody to call my own au and I’m SO intrigued I’d love to hear any more stuff u plan

Sure thing! I have two works that I'm particularly excited to write and I'll share the first one with you guys! If any of you want the general plot of my second favorite work in this series, let me know!

Also, the main Ford of the series (419"3) is gonna be called "Ford" while 6D-31 will be referred to as "Stanford" to avoid confusion.

In Dimension 6D-31, Stan is meant to die by his brother's hands via crossbow.

Ford 419"3 usually stays away from matters that involve Bill due to his own trauma. But he can't let Stan die like that, in pain with the last thing that he knows is his brother shot him. So Ford steels himself and opens a wormhole, stepping into Gravity Falls.

Even so, he spent so long agonizing about what to do that he barely gets there in time, forced to improvise when Stanford pulls the trigger. Ford's body teleported before he could think of a plan, catching the bolt right before it buried itself in Stan's throat, the sharp tip millimeters away from his Adam's apple.

There's a moment of stillness as everyone processes what just happened, and then Ford is grabbing Stan and hauling him backward, toward the dense woodland. It's a test, and whether Stanford passes or fails will determine how Ford proceeds.

Stanford drops the crossbow like it had burned him, stumbling after Stan while looking two seconds away from either keeling over or crying (or both) as he profusely apologizes. Stan looks like he's still in shock, not even struggling as Ford manhandles him, simply staring at his brother with wide eyes.

Finally, they both seem to register Ford's existence at the same time, Stan immediately trying to escape his unwavering grip while Stanford starts getting aggressive, looking akin to a rabid animal as he follows them from a distance.

The brothers are shouting at him, Stan demanding to be released while Stanford is barking questions about why he was here. Ford lifts Stan clear off the ground and turns to bolt, Stan cursing in a suspiciously shrill pitch that gives away his fear. Stanford reacts to the sound viscerally, rushing Ford and tackling both of them to the snowy ground.

Stanford’s priority is very clearly getting his brother out of Ford’s grip instead of trying to unmask him, so there’s hope for this paranoid mess of a man. Stanford wrenches Stan away from him, shoving Stan behind him and stubbornly placing himself between Stan and the perceived threat, all but sitting on his brother they’re pressed so close together.

Ford stays seated, watching how they interact closely. Stan is on the verge of a full blown panic attack, desperately clutching his brother’s trench coat. Stanford notices that he’s not the only one breathing harshly and, while he doesn't take his eyes off of Ford, he does reach back to press his palm against Stan’s hip.

Stan’s breathing evens out as the Fords stare at one another, Stanford obviously sizing him up. The brothers tense as Ford gracefully rises to his feet, Stan subtly trying to adjust Stanford so he’s the one protecting his brother instead. But Stanford’s not having it, holding on to one of Stan’s belt loops to keep his little brother behind his body.

Stanford lunges for Ford when he pulls out the memory gun, but Ford dodges his sloppy attack as he inputs his own dimension number and name before shooting his head since Stanford left him wide open.

Stanford reacts predictably, rushing to his brother’s side when he folds, barely catching him before he hits the ground face first, Stanford looks up just in time to see the memory gun level with his face before Ford pulls the trigger.

Ford then uses the gun to alter their memories of the previous events, replacing his interference with Stan slipping on the icy porch when he recoiled from the crossbow that had been shoved in his face. He tripped down the steps, the bolt whizzing past his face in a near miss.

Ford then puts Stan in his car and locks the doors to give Stan the sense of safety and privacy he’ll need after such a close call. Meanwhile, Stanford gets crammed into a corner in the shack, curled up as if he had merely disassociated.

Stan wakes up first, unable to remember what happened after the bolt had almost hit him, but he chalks the lost time up to shock. He barely has time to try and get his breathing under control as his mind reels from what almost happened when the shack door is thrown open and Stanford stumbles out looking half dead. Stanford’s wild eyes rake over the surrounding area until they find his eyes through the windshield.

Stanford practically trips down the stairs as he rushes to the car, though he stops outside the driver’s door, pressing his hand against the glass as he peers in with a flashlight that Stan squints against when it hits his eyes. Stanford suddenly relaxes, his gaze mapping out Stan as if he’s afraid that Stan will disappear if he blinks, and Stan finds himself unlocking the doors.

Stanford rips the door open immediately and, before Stan can reprimand him for being so rough with his car, Stanford throws himself at Stan to drag him into a crushing hug. Stan is stunned into silence as Stanford babbles into the crook of his neck, apologizing and promising that he didn’t mean it and he would never intentionally hurt Stan. The words ache in their familiarity.

Stan hugs Stanford back, pressing his cheek against his brother’s as he mumbles his own apology. Stanford is confused until Stan elaborates, apologizing for the project and for not realizing how much he had hurt Stanford by not saying sorry right away and bringing up his stupid dream instead.

Stanford’s face is unreadable for a moment as he pulls back just enough to search Stan’s face for something, but when he finds it his expression crumples and he hides his face back in the crook of Stan’s neck.

Stan gently prods Stanford about going inside, Stanford mutely nodding but not letting go. Stan can’t help the warmth that floods him, nuzzling his cheek against Stanford’s head with a content exhale. Stan knows they’ll separate eventually, but he lets himself enjoy the contact as a renewed spark of hope flickers in his chest.

[rentumblsstuff]

Random Hatchetfield Headcanons

The first time Alice Woodward ever smoked weed was when (after much inner turmoil) she asked Deb to shotgun it with her.

Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.

Deb also has a snaggletooth which is what inspired the vampire part of Alice’s vampiric sapphic play. Alice also thinks it’s ironic she made a vampire character when Deb is a vegan.

Ruth as a Sophmore hit on Senior Alice a lot. Alice thought it was funny and she and Deb “adopted” her. Max and Steph also put the PANIC in bi panic for Ruth.

Max would find it weirdly hot that Grace wears bathing suits under her clothes because of the idea that he gets to see what her body looks like before even she does.

The hospital is downtown, so Becky Barnes definitely got infected in TGWDLM. Despite never wanting to do it again, Becky climbs the tree as someone calls the HFPD to save Kathy’s cat because she’s still infinitely compassionate even under Pokey’s control. Plus, Pokey knows she wants to get over the trauma associated with climbing trees, so he makes her do it to give her a big number about finally overcoming her past. She accidentally flings the cat as soon as the song starts, which is why in Show Me Your Hands, the cat dies so quickly even though it JUST got called in.

Peter infected Steph who infected Deb who infected Alice in TGWDLM. Pete and Steph would have been Sophomores and Deb and Alice were Seniors, but I always imagine Steph and Deb knowing eachother because MRFC said Steph is in the Smoke Club on Twitter at some point. Assuming Steph’s been a little punk for a while, she’s been in the smoke club since at least Sophomore year, and probably a new inductee the same year as TGWDLM (2018).

Alice and one of her parents (maybe Bill) were also raised in purity culture because we know the Woodwards and the Chastitys go to the same church. The Woodwards probably take it with a grain of salt though (Alice has expressed dislike over Grace’s prudishness)- either that or one of her parents (probably her mom) wasn’t originally from said church and also raised Alice with “this is what you’re learning here, but here’s also what I learned at my church at your age.” Bill was likely the one raised in purity culture because he does NOT LIKE DEB and thinks that if she HAS TO date a girl, she should date someone like Grace Chastity, implying she’s an exemplary teen girl. Ms. Woodward lets Deb sleep over and probably knows she smokes and likes her anyways; three points for Alice’s mom not being the puritanical one.

Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about. (Side note Time Bastard gave us a definite date that timelines don’t branch/reset before depending on whichever theory you believe because the homeless man is in every timeline, meaning that Jenny’s death is fixed in time and never changes: October 7th 2004, so the timelines change anywhere between October 8th 2004 and 2018.)

In whatever timeline Emma finally gets to have her weed farm, she meets Paul when he tells her he was prescribed that marajamij for his anxiety and he was too scared to try Xanax. She thinks he’s kind of cute for a wet cat of a corporate slave. “Fuck the patriarchy? Yes please.” (Side note Paul seems so uptight and unfuckable like bro gotta be blank down there like a Ken doll and has no discernible kinks from what I remember while Emma is laid back and chill asf and like… normal in comparison so yeah sure Paulkins canonically fucks but does Emma enjoy it?? Like dude even Pete’s more fuckable than him come on.)

Pete and Steph don’t kiss when they admit their feelings for eachother even though one of them would die before ever getting to kiss each other because they both think it’ll only make it that much harder to go through with sacrificing the other. One of the reasons Pete also chooses to be the one to take the bullet because he doesn’t think he even COULD pull the trigger on her. Like it’d be physically impossible for him, in his mind.

TGWDLM was originally meant to be an allegory for the institution brainwashing us. Show Me Your Hands and America’s Great Again: examples of people in power working for and fulfilling the evil wishes of some almighty, otherworldly, inhuman THING (be it aliens, be it those in power). It’s clearly meant to satirize the way that power corrupts and tries to convince you its way is better. Even Hidgens, THE FUCKING TEACHER, tries to teach his student that it will be better for everyone to join in that corruption and give in to the hive mind. This reminds me of how the school system in America tries to paint our history as something glamorous; manifest destiny instead of genocide of the indigenous populations. The people in power convincing those under them that the deaths of countless lives is a good thing and it will pave the way to a better future. Cool motive, still murder. Which is why Emma “Fuck the Patriarchy” Perkins is the last one to be infected. She was incapable of being brainwashed , and even when she was the last one left, she saw that the people watching didn’t care, and the all-consuming threat of corrupted power closes in on her until the very last moment.

The Lords in Black were going to try to convince whoever sacrificed their most treasured something to do more work for them, but Grace required very little convincing. Like Wiggly spoke into her mind like “Gracy-Wace! You forgot my booky-wook! Look in it, see any thing you like? Wanna kill all the pervy-wervys?” And she’s like “holy cow I can kill all the pervy-wervys with this book?” Pete would have needed the most convincing because he’s just lost the only girl who will ever love him (in his mind) and so he’d think these things took away his one chance at true love and NEVER want to deal with them again. Even if they offered him a way to get her back, he’s too smart to know that won’t come without an even bigger price AND too paranoid to think she won’t come back wrong like Max did.

If the Green-Foster family ever did get to move to California and Lex got to be an actress, her interview attitude would be a lot like Reneé Rapp and if she ever got asked about why she’ll openly shit talk people in an interview, she’s like “I used to work retail I learned pretty fast that nothing gets done if you keep your mouth shut.”

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

What Carmy wants

IMPO it's pretty obvious that what he wants is Reparation by Opposition.

In Psychogenealogy and Transgenerational Therapy this means that when you come from a family that was the source of trauma, your responses can only be 3 potential ones: Repetition → status quo that only serves to perpetuate the trauma, Opposition → breaking the cycle but in spite, not as a reparation but as defiance, again: trauma response, OR REPARATION BY OPPOSITION → the only response that includes real healing and liberation from that trauma, which entails not perpetuating the toxic cycle, not acting in spite and just to challenge the status quo to prove "them" wrong or that they don't own us, etc. It's the only mature and healthy response, although the other two do not necessarily imply a conscious conflict. Some people can lead a seemingly "conflict-free" life even when perpetuating the status quo or opposing to it in an act of vengeance, like our case study here:

He wants his legacy to be all he never had growing up:

A panic-less environment.

Anxiety-free.

Be square with everything and everybody.

To make it good, he'd have to filter out the bad.

I already went over this in terms of the show in general because I firmly believe those lines are nothing but a huge foreshadowing of the show's whole arc, and as usual, Storer hid it in plain sight:

That is why MEAT was in the background, in the frame, in the center, because what Carmy was saying was the whole "meat" of the show:

However, as for Carmy, individually speaking, those lines are ANOTHER PIECE OF HARD EVIDENCE, we, Sydcarmy truthers can and should hold onto and go by, to back up our SYDCARMY ENDGAME claims and wishes. We are not delulu. Well, not because of believing in Sydcarmy endgame anyway...

There is no way on Earth Carmy can achieve all that with the C person. Someone who represents his past and triggers his trauma to the point of causing panic attacks, someone who he associates with the "old Carmy" he wants to outgrow to get to where he wants to be and spend the rest of his life in (his purpose). Of course, she represents the status quo for him, the literal girl next door who is totally familiar with his past family trauma and all the things he wants to leave behind. She is what his toxic family wanted for him. She is in no way, shape or form a symbol of progress or healing, you can read about that in pretty much ALL my C Person meta, here ↓

The only character on the whole show that represents change, evolution, growth, and progress, is:

Every one of Carmy's breakthroughs, had her presence in them, in one way or another.

He started turning The Beef around when she came along, even when everyone was still opposing his leadership because he wasn't alone anymore:

He accepted his shortcomings and vowed to change:

He shared his dream with her because he trusted her fully, even when he had only met her for a few months at that point (he didn't even trust C with his right number even after knowing her for years)

He shared her dream:

He put everything in her hands and then couldn't live with the guilt of having let her down, which triggered ALL HIS DEMONS.

She was also there when he gathered the strength to confront his abuser:

Summing up, the only one who can bring out this Carmy we all want, including himself, is Sydney and he already knows that, he told her:

Bonus track: What Syd always wanted and still does is this ↓

The great news is that what Syd and Carmy want are FULLY COMPATIBLE things.

which is the key to any healthy and lasting relationship love story. Not wanting the same things, none of us want the same things as our partners at all times, it's impossible and or childish because we are dynamic beings and individuals, and any relationship that annuls or censors our individuality can't or shouldn't last. Now, finding someone with whom you can be yourself, NOT LOGAN:

Being accepted by them and at the same time inspired and driven to change for the better, as opposed to remaining stuck in the past, THAT IS LOVE and that is at the very least PROMISING. A relationship based on that and on trust can only be a good one, no matter how toxic or hard it gets at times, as most relationships at some point do or might because that means that all the tools to "fix" it, are there, at hand.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[ghostsferalgremlin]

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY HEADCANONS

I had these headcanons in mind for a while now and i have no one to talk about cod so here we are.

................

• I picture him having pretty wild hair, not because he doesn't cut them or anything, but because he cuts them himself.

Not trusting anyone can lead you to ask people not to touch you, Simon defenitely doesn't want people touching him behind his back, where he can't see them, so he prefers to cut his own hair.

• If he is in a relationshin he would definitely seat on the wc while you take a bath.

He would follow you like a little golden retriever and sit there, he doens't mean any harm by it, he doesn't even think about you in an horny way or anything else, he just wants company and loves to hear you speaking while you take care of yourself, so he just sit and casually answer here and there when you ask him something.

● I don't think Simon perceive Ghost as something totally diffrent from Simon.

Having trauma makes you unable to "work correctly" in a kind of way, and Simon can't have himself have a panic attack or anything else in the field. I think Ghost is simply the more collect and calm part of himself and he knows it, Ghost is simply the part he uses when heneed stability and what Ghost rappresent is literally someone who has everything under control, always.

● He drinks, but not that much.

As i said before, he doesn't trust people, and being drunk means that you have to depends on other people to take care of you. He trusts the 141 tf, but he refuses to being in any kind of way in someone's hands, he has to be in control, always, so he has a specific number of drinks he can drink we does, after that is a big no.

● His music taste? Immaculate.

Let's be real here: he is traumatize and he goes by Ghost. Man definitely listen to metal and every single subgenre of it, he loves it and it's the only way he is sure he can still feel emotions outside of anger and fear.

• Not really a man whos love language is physical touch.

He touches you, he does, but his love language is quality time. He loves spending time with his loved one, speaking, cooking, listening to some music or just watching a movie, he love having someone, who he is in love with, around and listening to their voice.

• We are edgy here and we don't wear colors.

Man's whole wardrobe is black, camo, black. He has some things here and there cause people keeps buying it for his bdays, especialky Johnny, but he never wears them. He just look at them and goes: nope.

• Sweet tooth.

God this man LOVES sweet things, chocolate, candies, drinks, he wants them all. Once he found Gaz's secret storage and literally wiped it all, the poor man is still crying about it.

• He doesn't wear his mask to cover his scars.

As i said, he perceive Ghost as the obly part of him that can remains calm enough to do his job. The mask is something that helps him with this, once the mask is on he is not just Simon anymore, he is Ghost and he has everything under control. The scar story? Is just because he doesn't want to explain the truth to anyone.

• He has nighmares and pretty much refuses to sleep until he just pass out.

He is tired, he really is, but he forces himself to stay awake to avoid waking up amd feeling like he is just a step away from death, breathing is impossible to him when he wakes up like that and it leaves him feeling vulnerable for hours. He just prefers to let his body take control when taying awake is too much, this means he wont wake up, mostly.

................

[chefkids]

It's clear that Carmy can be with Claire after he fixes stuff with Donna. He sees her stuff in the basement the same way he saw Claire's pic there. We know they shot him bringing the box to her. Calo even said you have to fix the parent stuff before you can be in a relationship. The fact is, they don't hide much. The trailer showed everything that happened AS IT HAPPENED. The contract S talked to P about was the contract. Ice Chips WAS about ice chips. We have to take them literally. It's time.

Can Carmy be with Claire after he settles his childhood trauma? Sure.

Does he actually want to be with her? No.

He didn't want to go out with her in the first place so he gave her a fake number. He didn't want to hang out with her until she guilted him and brought up her dead cousin. He didn't want to call her his girlfriend until Sydney made him feel bad about it. He didn't want to tell her he loves her and the only time he even said it was to Fak when he posed it as a leading question. He didn't want to spend time with her after he promised to make Sydney his priority and only went to see her after being guilted by Richie. He has only ever done anything for Claire because other people have told him to, including herself who guilted him to cook for her. He hasn't apologized to Claire because he does not want to be forced to prioritize being in a relationship with her again if he fixes things.

Sydney has always been his choice out of his own volition from the start. He kept her around when everyone at The Beef did not like her. His mind brought her back in a middle of panic attack about Claire because he wants to choose her. No one told him to make her a Thom Browne jacket. No one pushed him to try and get her a star even though he doesn't want one. No one has ever told him to try to be better for Sydney or to choose her. He keeps trying to do all that on his own because she is his choice.

Claire leaving him was not a wake up call to be better and face all his emotional baggage with his mom. His own brother dying and his sister pushing him wasn't even what made him want to start getting better. He only started trying to address his issues and going to Al-anon meetings after he met Sydney, because she saw the good in him and realized he does want to be good, as a person not just a Chef, for her.

That's what his whole talk about amusement and enjoyment was about. That's what the legacy talk was about too. Fixing things in his life in order to make something good out of The Bear, for her, because he does not want to do this without her. Sydney possibly leaving him is his wake up call to settle the things in his life with Donna and Claire so he can fully focus on Sydney and The Bear, because he cares about losing Sydney a lot more than he has cared about losing Claire or his mom.

Putting Claire in the freezer and the garde manger was intentional. Putting Sydney with fire was intentional. Claire being backwards and Sydney being forward was intentional. Making Claire Sydney's pasta was intentional. Taking Claire to the post office, like UPS, was intentional. Having Claire be his cigarette addiction that he quit once he left her was intentional.

If you want to take everything that is said literally at its most basic form and think Claire is Carmy's peace and that he loves her because the Fak's said so and not bother to acknowledge everything else going into the show, go ahead. Be a Fak.

But Carmy fixing things with Donna and Claire does not equal him being with Claire in the end. They are just the steps he knows he needs to take before focusing on what matters to him.

[shaunashipman]

Eddie was definitely more queercoded than Buck. He is written as a repressed gay man in comphet relationships. Buck's queercoding mostly consisted of one-off jokes while Eddie's has been baked into all of his romantic storylines. Also no one is saying he's gay because he treats women poorly. The reason he inadvertently hurts his partners is because he is trying to force himself into relationships that will never work. Calling that homophobic is laughable because so many gay men have dated women as beards which obviously ends up hurting the women. It's just a fact. It's honestly homophobic the way so many bucktommy shippers are obsessed with eddie being straight even when a multitude of gay people see themselves in him. Or does the gay male perspective only matter when in concerns tommy lol

ok, I wasn't even going to get into this. idc if you see eddie is queer, that's your prerogative. but you brought this into my inbox.

to start with, there are plenty of bucktommy shippers who also think eddie is gay. and the ones who don't are not obsessed with eddie being straight, we're just tired of it being touted as the only possible reading and if you don't get that then you're stupid. kind of like how they are with buddie

also buck's queercoding has not been one-off jokes, y'all just seem to think that queercoding that isn't angsty is being played for jokes.

but let's get into the queercoding of eddie

"baked into all his romantic storylines" all 3 of them? that gigantic number? let's go through them.

shannon. yes, only married because they got pregnant. but they got pregnant through having sex, which eddie was shown, multiple times, to enjoy having with shannon, a woman. she left him (not going deeply into her reasons, I've talked about what I think of shannn and her leaving) and eddie's response was to devote himself to being a father, then moved across country to the same place she was, implicitly because he wanted to make up with her, but couldn't work up the courage until forced. when he did contact her, his initial refusal to let her see chris was both because he didn't yet trust her again with chris and because he didn't trust her with himself. while deciding whether or not to let her see chris, they were fucking like bunnies. again, that eddie was shown very much to enjoy, to the point that it is explicitly something he fantasized about in s7. after he let her see chris again, we didn't see as much of them, but what we did see was the actions of a normal couple. then she said she thought she was pregnant and he re-proposed. could it be that eddie simply felt trapped again? sure. but if that were the case he could have simply not began a relationship with her again to start with. he had the excuse ready baked in of "we need to focus on chris". then she turned out not to be pregnant, asked for a divorce and died, and he's spent the last 5-15 years mourning and pining for her.

ana. initially met as a teacher at chris' school who eddie had an immediate crush on. didn't go anywhere that season because she was chris' teacher. when they met again eddie's only hesitance to date her was framed as trauma from shannon divorcing him and dying. then we get to s5 and his panic attack. which most took as being about the "ready-made family". I took as, the shop worker called ana chris' mom, chris' mom died, ana could die, cue panic attack. the only part of this relationship that I can remotely see as being indicative of sexual repression is how the break up went, which could also just be a result of his slow breakdown which had already been cooking for several months.

marisol. who eddie perused after he got out of the date his tía set up, talked to some people and decided he was ready to date again. then we didn't really see them again until the nun episode. also the point where so many ignored the majority of the ep just because eddie was talking about religion. also basically the only time religion has come up for eddie in more than passing, despite religious repression supposedly playing a large role in his queercoding. again, a relationship where eddie is shown to enthusiastically enjoy sex with women. his sudden hesitance to have sex with marisol was completely about her having been a nun, which if anything is about the madonna/whore complex, not about eddie's sexuality. and then eddie fucks up the relationship due to the shannon!doppler, because he's still in love with shannon NOT because he's closeted.

so where is the plethora of queercoding in all his relationships? and if all his relationships are comphet, but he's never shown an attraction to men (and he hasn't, not objectively, because him "looking" at buck is not attraction) why is him being gay the only option? what about asexual? or aromantic? or even bisexual, since as I've pointed out, he clearly enjoys sex with women.

also his poor treatment of the women he dates can very easily be traced to him growing up in a very patriarchal household, where dad works to the detriment of not knowing his kids, mom's job is to take care of the kids, and he as the only boy was delegated to the "man of the house" at a very young age. an extremely common family dynamic, and one that despite working on in other aspects, eddie clearly still ascribes to in some way, by how he's continuously looking for a wife and a mother, not a partner. could be that he's gay, could be that he was raised in a misogynistic world.

If you see him as gay, great, good for you. but to insist that that's the only correct view is wrong. and since you ended with an "lol" showing how seriously you take this, I'm gonna end with this

ryan, the one who plays eddie, has said multiple times now that eddie is heterosexual. and before you start, oliver at no point ever referred to buck as straight before the bisexual arc so 🤷‍♀️

[muchmossymess]

A Revali Fanfic Recommendation

I urge you all to put your life on hold for a moment and go read this brilliant fanfiction:

A hundred years after the fall of Hyrule to Calamity Ganon, and the hero Link has finally sealed the darkness and freed the Divine Beasts of their curse - and with it, their pilots are finally free. But not just as spirits. Awake once again, the four Champions of old have a second chance at life and must re-adjust to this future world with their decendants. Well - all except for one Champion, who doesn't have a decentant. Or even anyone left alive that knew him. Teba is happy to take in his revived ancient idol as one of his own, but sharing a living space with a hundred year old Champion with an ego the size of his divine beast and who might have some issues he's not willing to share can be a lot sometimes and they don't always see eye to eye. Revali thinks he should return to leading the new generation of Rito warriors. Teba thinks this actual child should never have been leading warriors or fighting a war in the first place. Tulin is just excited to have the infamous Rito Champion in his house.

Beautifully written and lovingly crafted, this baby can fit so much trauma and whump into the most gut-wrenching and heat-breakingly found family story you may ever read. 130,000 words, 36 chapters (and still regularly updating!), and a CRIMINALLY low number of kudos. If that doesn't sway you, here is some gushing under the cut <3

You think you've read a champions revival fic before? This will have you saying "how the FUCK have I not seen this before" and completely change the way you view everything (mild exaggeration. m i l d). We have all of your favourite revali tropes: being a dick and getting owned, being a dick and being right, getting own and never showing those feelings to the light of day, getting killed, getting unkilled and loved, showing emotions but being super weird and revali about it, bonding with tulin!!, bonding with teba and the rest of rito village, bonding with the champions, having panic attacks and trauma, vah medoh being the best ever, being a terrifying force of nature, being an idiot kid, and so much more!

Do you like grumpy dad teba? Do you like revali swallowing his pride? Do you like revali immediately spitting his pride back up and being a bitchy bird? Do you like mipha and revali as gossip buddies? Do you like the complete and utter fool revali makes of himself everytime he so much as hears the name link? Do you like people seeing right through his facade and calling him out on it?

AND NOT TO MENTION THE WORLD BUILDING??? this fic is so in depth of the political climates, racism, lore, changes in culture during times of war, colonisation, biology of the races and just fucking everything?? It adds so much life to the world of hyrule I am genuinely shocked at how much this person clearly loves these games (botw/totk/aoc) and they are able to incorporate all of this amazing information in a way that flows so naturally and just hhrnngngg I am fucking insane about it. THE SCIENCE, oh my god how did I forget all the wonderous thoughts surrounding the divine beasts and the sheikah tech, oh god and how they write the magic system? Guys I swear it's so good.

Characterisation is on point, everyone feels so full of life and that they are reacting exactly how you would expect them too, and they just seem so real, like they are right beside you as you're reading. The author does an IMMACULATE job of drawing you in and making you feel a part of the story, all the while being just beautifully written?

Don't get me started on the attention to rito culture. I have never seen someone pour so much love into something before, genuinely on of the greatest things I've seen. I've always had a fascination over how the races of hyrule view each other, similarities and differences, how their cultures and histories intertwine, and conflicts that may arise. But oh. my. god. My jaw was on the floor every time, it's so rich and beautiful but not without the horrors (and oh god, they are Horrors tm) and again it's just so real!!!

Be warned, however, that there is gore and viscera and terror and hurt and war crimes and death (duh), but for each terrible thing to happen it is repaid tenfold in love and kindness somewhere down the line. (Unless you are into hurt no comfort, then sorry buddy!) It is a beautiful narrative and the exploration of trauma and self is mind boggling and just go read it!!! 😭 😭 😭 I just love this fic so much, it has instantly sky-rocketed to one of my top 3 favourite fics I've ever read, and I'm so grateful to have found it and now be along for the ride that if I could bring that to one more person then by god I will fucking do it