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angelofthemornings · 1 day ago

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One issue that frustrates me is I'm old and remember growing up with AOL Kids and in some ways it was good to have a space where you could be stupid about anime with other thirteen-year-olds, and in some ways it was bad. The worst way is that if you hang up a sign saying "There are only children in here!" it's...well, it's pedo bait. More than one pedophile attempted to groom me in childhood off of the AOL Kids forums and the kids only chatrooms, and a handful of my online friends also had their own dealings with adult predators. I don't mean like, nineteen-year-olds who are making the lousy decision to roleplay smut with a high schooler, I mean middle-aged people telling seventh graders "I'll pay for you to get to Wisconsin so I can" aaaaand I'll stop there rather than trigger someone. This was COMMON.

They weren't really posting on the forums themselves, but you'd get messages from them and might strike up a friendship, and without adults actively monitoring the entire AOL Instant Messenger network for *everyone* (that's "everybody has their own personal Homeland Security agent watching them joke" levels of unrealistic) there'd really be no way to make sure children weren't talking to predators. Even if you put in filters or flags or something for an account owned by a minor, they could possibly hop on a parent's account, or you could take the conversation off-platform - that sort of thing. (The filters and flags might have also done undesirable stuff like keeping sexually abused minors from talking about what's happening and getting support from their peers.) I think there's really no way you could effectively keep predators or adults in general out of children-only spaces online, which makes having kid only spaces to begin with kind of fraught.

Conversely, there have already been a lot of conversations about how you can't keep 100% of minors out of online spaces meant solely for adults, either. So what we're inevitably going to have almost everywhere is a general community, maybe with side spaces of some kind for adults and kids that people are inevitably going to come in and out of at will (more on that in a bit), and it's kind of...look, no matter how you (general you) feel about it, adults are GOING to talk about adult things like sex and violence and personally, I don't really feel the need to bend over backwards to be palatable just in case a child is nearby.

I think the real, sustainable answer is that we get people used to safe and open intergenerational friendships (the best way to shut down a predator is to have multiple adults you trust who you can talk to about stuff like if this guy they've been talking to feels fishy to a grown-up) and also getting people used to the idea that if they see BDSM porn or something by mistake the worst thing that'll happen is they get confused or grossed out. (Even the worst shock site shit is probably just gonna give you a few nightmares, honestly. I've never heard of anyone who was permanently debilitated and disturbed by watching Chechclear, although I do not recommend it.) I believe that young people are empowered to have some personal responsibility since whatever *content* they might come across is legitimately pretty low-risk. As for dangerous *people*, that's a high risk that can be mitigated by having a lot of safe adults around them who can see a great deal of what's happening in the community + safe adults who have made the choice to befriend children. Something that children from difficult backgrounds often don't have offline, by the way.

(Personally I'm not super comfortable talking to kids and I don't really want minors around my blog or in my servers, but back in the day in more general spaces I had adults who thought my passion for Digimon or whatever was charming and we could talk about the music from the show and stuff, and *those* adults were above the board, so...it's perfectly fine to be friends with kids if this is something you choose to do. Being a pal to kids is not some kind of mandatory responsibility for every individual adult - I myself don't want to do it - it's just nice when it happens, and in general spaces it often does.)

These ideas would probably take some societal change. Right now I think it's good that spaces are kind of porous so that kids can meet a variety of safe adults and learn what normal adults and adult-child interactions are like, and that strictly grown-up content is tagged or in an 18+ Discord channel with a clear idea of what can be found in there, so that children (or anyone else who doesn't want to see NSFW or gore or whatever) are empowered to stay away from what is clearly a dead dove. Kids should also expect that maybe people are gonna be saying wild shit that's violent or horny but not so much so that the poster felt it needs a tag...etc. It's a little difficult to know exactly what needs a tag or what conversation needs to be herded into an 18+ channel, and you're not going to be able to sequester everything with 100% accuracy, *and* it's not all that desirable to constantly worry about whether something you're saying or doing has to be hidden, so kids should have the expectation that if they venture where adults are, they're probably eventually going to overhear some adult talk that they don't understand or like. (Honestly not much different from when your IRL aunties are passing around the bottle on a holiday and getting kinda rowdy.)

The porosity can be a problem in some ways - like, now we all gotta have strong political opinions and defend them on Twitter, and children don't have the life experience to come up with good ideas about a lot of things. (I don't think there are "puriteens" so much as kids who aren't that comfortable with sex, as a reasonable developmental stage, and now they're kind of in a climate where half of everybody on the internet is taking a strong stance about sex in the media or whatever, and so if they're on the internet they probably want to have a stance too. And they're going to be forming that stance mostly out of their personal feelings and worldviews, as less mature people are wont to do.) (I do think this is merely annoying rather than some gargantuan Issue, though.)

But real life is porous, if I go for a jog at the park then kids are gonna meet me and vice versa. This is the default almost everywhere offline. So what we need to do here is find a way to empower the child to deal with situations that aren't tailored entirely to them. (Honestly, maybe that wouldn't take societal change at all - you could possibly do that just by telling them they are. Adults talking to each other is not that scary and won't hurt them.)

Maybe instead of asking what if a kid sees/hears this adult thing, we ask why is that kid in an adult space and get them to leave, instead of forcing all the adults to change and cater to the child who wandered into THEIR SPACE.

#long post #sorry

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glamorizethechaos · 3 days ago

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Bruises Pt 5 | Jack Abbot x Reader

TW: fluff, graphic depiction of seizures, TBI recovery, anxiety, reader is having a ROUGH time, age gap, probable medical inaccuracy, brief mention of vomit !!

Word Count: 4.4k

Authors Note: I don’t have any personal experience with epilepsy but know how serious of a condition it is. I tried doing as much research as I could in regard to seizure and the post ictal state.

Prev | Next

————

Healing wasn’t linear.

You had good days, bad days, and really bad days. Jack was there for them all. The hospital decided to discharge you earlier, trusting you’d be in good hands under Jacks care, and they were correct. He kept your incision clean, held you when you cried, and helped you with your speech and motor skills that were impacted by the injury.

He was patient. When you stuttered and stumbled over your words, he sat looking at you with adoring eyes as if nothing was wrong. The frustration was not missed however. He tried to assure you, but you were just so angry all the time.

“Do you know how frustrating it is to know what you want to say but your mouth and brain won’t work together?”

“No.”

“Exactly, so be quiet and f-f-fuck off, Jack..” The words burned as they came out of your mouth. Throat dry. You didn’t want to be mean to Jack, especially after all he was doing for you. But every second of every day felt you were battling your own body and mind.

“I was angry too” Jack said after a particularly intense evening. “After my amputation.”

You didn’t answer but that didn’t stop him, of course it didn’t.

“Not just for a while — for a long time. At the world, at the war, the government, at myself. I’d look down and see this piece of metal where my leg used to be. People would call me a hero, shake my hand, tell me I was lucky — lucky for what? They didn’t see me at night, punching holes in walls because I couldn’t even put on a sock without tipping over. I hated needing help. I hated not being the man I used to be."

He took your hand in his, tracing his thumb against your knuckles.

"I'll never be the same man that I was, never — but I've learned to accept the man I am now. I can't say it’s gonna be easy. I still have my hard days— but you'll find yourself again. You'll grow and flourish into the brilliant, beautiful, and brave woman that you are. You don’t have to hide your bad days with me. I won’t hide mine either."

"No one looks at you like you're stupid or slow or broken in the head. You get sympathy. I get pity. That’s not the same thing."

"But you're not any of those things."

————

Your memory was not what it used to be, often repeating yourself and asking the same questions over and over. Every so often you’d ask Jack if he worked tonight, which he’d again explain that he was suspended with pay until the investigation was over. The only reason he managed to get Gloria to suspend him WITH pay was you. For whatever reason she had a soft spot for you, bending over backwards for the ER ever since you were hired. Whatever you asked, she granted. Robby thanks you for single handedly saving the ER from going under.

“Just take care of her, okay?” She whispered as Jack left the meeting determining whether or not he still had a job.

Had it been anyone else Jack pummeled someone for in the ER, he'd have been on his ass.

————

Your gross motor and fine motor skills were compromised slightly, but not as much as your mind. Jack made sure you had occupational therapy and physical therapy twice a week. On the days in between he helped you with your exercises and would not let you skip a day.

Despite your therapies, it was harder to button a shirt, you found yourself dropping things quite often, and your balance had deteriorated. It wasn't all the time, usually when you were tired. As exhaustion crept in, Jack noticed you grabbing onto the counter or the back of the couch for stability as you walked, or how you sometimes walked in a zig zag pattern down the hallway.

The first time you fell, the sudden thud yanked Jack out of sleep before his eyes even opened. Grabbing his prosthetic, he put it on in his haste, skipping his liner. He felt the pressure and shock shoot up his leg as the socket pressed uncomfortably on his bare skin. The shower was still running, but behind the door he heard sobs, muffled and sharp. He flung the door open to find you crumpled on the tile, trembling, one leg twisted awkwardly beneath you. You tried using the cold shower curtain to shield your naked body, the sensation making your skin crawl.

"I slipped." you muttered, angry and humiliated all at once. The tears mixing with the droplets of water on your face. He dropped to his knees beside you, already checking you for injuries.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe. I’ve got you.” his voice was soft but urgent as he asked you questions, helping you up and wrapping you in his bath robe.

"Did you hit your head?"

"Were you dizzy?"

"Does anything hurt?"

“You feel a seizure coming on?”

————

The seizures were the most difficult part of your recovery. As weeks turned to months and you were still having seizures, you were finally diagnosed with Post-traumatic Epilepsy, another scar to remind you what Charlie had done. It terrified you, knowing one day you could slip into a seizure and never come out.

The anxiety that consumed you made your symptoms worse. Jack suggested speaking to a therapist and drove you to and from your appointments. In the beginning you asked if he’d join you, until you found the courage to go in alone. You struggled opening up about your feelings following your attack, but Jack encouraged you. Therapy was an imperative part of his recovery and finding a sense of self again; and he was set on finding the same for you.

You sat at the edge of the couch, afraid it would swallow you whole. The clock on the wall ticked loudly as Dr. Rowan introduced herself. It was quiet for a while as both Dr. Rowan and Jack held space for you to speak.

“Every time I close my eyes I feel Charlie’s hands on my neck.” You admitted during your second meeting. “Every time Jack touches me I have to remind myself he won’t hurt me. It sounds so stupid, but when he brushes my hair back, or puts a hand on my back to guide me—my mind panics. Even though I don’t want it to. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to response to gentle touch.”

“That’s not stupid at all. Your nervous system is on high alert. It’s your body’s way of protecting you.” Dr. Rowan validated you.

“He’s… g-g-gentle.” You started to stutter. “He doesn’t crowd me. When I seize, he waits until I come back, and he’s always there. But sometimes when he brushes my hair out of my face or holds my hand, I flinch. I hate it, I don’t want to be afraid of him.”

“Are you afraid of him?”

“No. Of course not. But for some reason my body is. My skin tenses like something bad is going to happen whenever he touches me, but at the same time…” you glanced at Jack who was watching you intently. “At the same time, I feel safer with him than anyone else. He’s gentle. He’s kind. He’s patient. He makes tea without asking, he learns the signs that I’m about to go out. He talks to me like I’m still me. Like I’m not broken.”

“Do you feel broken?” Dr. Rowan asked, leaning forward in her chair and adjusting the notebook in her lap.

“I know I am.” The words kept coming, like vomit. Your voice cracked as you continued, Jack staring at you as he took this all in.

“He touches my arm to help me stand, and my skin remembers things I don’t want to remember. But then… then he says my name, and everything inside me quiets for a second. I just don’t know how to let myself have something good again. It feels like I’m waiting for it to turn into a trap. How is that not broken?”

“You’re learning what safety feels like again. That takes time. It’s okay to not know how to respond to kindness after surviving cruelty.” Dr. Rowan finished and closed her notebook. When you left her office it felt like the world had been momentarily lifted off your shoulders. You walked a little bit taller, your body more relaxed.

Jack helped you into his truck, resting his hand on your waist as you hoisted yourself into the passenger seat. Before you could fumble with the seatbelt he reached over and clicked it in place for you. Your eyes both met and your chest felt as if it were in a vice grip.

“I’m proud of you.” Jack whispered.

“You aren’t mad at me?” You asked tearfully.

“Wha— why would I be mad at you?”

You weren’t entirely sure, other than you were used to being ridiculed for speaking your mind. Despite feeling a bit lighter, you cried the whole car ride. An emotional release you’d been holding back for years. Jack jumped as the first sob escaped your chest and ricocheted through the truck.

He reached over the center console and grabbed your hand. Everything hurt. Your chest. Your head. Your stomach. You wanted it all to stop, to jump out of the car. Panic began to set in and you pressed your head against the headrest, trying to ground yourself.

Jack ran his hand across your hair before settling at the back of your neck.

“Just breathe. We’re almost home.”

Home.

What was home? Where did you belong? Alone? With Jack? As sick and twisted as you knew it was, with Charlie?

Some days you wish he had killed you. Some days you resent Jack for stepping in and saving you.

“Pull over Jack.” Your skin growing more and more pale and clammy by the second. Before he could even put the car in park, your head was out the door throwing up your breakfast. Jack winced as you gagged and reached over to pull your hair back. When there was physically nothing left in your stomach, you shut the door and looked out the window, refusing to look at him. He sat there for a moment before putting the car in drive again and finishing the rest of the ride home.

Like a flip of a switch you hopped out of the car like nothing had happened. The mood swings were sometimes violent, especially when your pain was high.

“Can I cook dinner tonight?” You asked Jack as he put the keys in the door. He stalled and looked at you. Taken back by your change in demeanor.

“You sure you’re up to it?”

“Yes.” You nodded. You hated when he doubted you. He never had until after your injury. Not even when your arm was elbows deep in a man’s abdomen. “I just want to feel a sense of normalcy again, plus my OT said it’s good therapy.”

“Okay okay… just no sharp knives, okay? You had a rough day.”

Your hands shook more when you were stressed.

“You got it captain.” You smiled as he ushered you inside. You stumbled a bit but caught yourself on the counter. You missed cooking, it was always a creative outlet, but it was a bit nerve wracking cooking for Jack for the first time. He hopped in the shower so he wouldn’t crowd you, but when he came out, curls still dripping— he paused.

You were standing by wall with one arm draped over your eyes and the other searching for the light switch. Jack called out to you, closing the distance between you almost immediately.

“The fucking lights won’t turn off, it’s too bright in here!” Your words were a bit more slurred than normal, and Jack was already leading you towards the couch.

“The lights aren’t on, honey.”

“Yes they are Jack!” You yelled back through gritted teeth, “they keep flickering and it’s too fucking bright!”

“Honey, I promise you the lights aren’t off. I think a seizure might be coming on. Come lay down for me.” He took your pulse which was climbing by the second, perspiration collecting on the small of your back. “Can you open your eyes for me?” He asked laying you on your side.

When they opened, your pupils were dilated and your eyes jerked back at forth involuntarily.

“I don’t want to have a seizure, Jack.” You screamed through the sob that was stuck in your throat.

“I know, I know. I gotcha.”

“I cant s—se” was the last thing you tried to utter before you slipped into a seizure. Your eyes were wide open, unseeing, pupils blown wide. A low choking sound escaped your lips as foam began to pool at the corner of your mouth. Your whole body trembled, muscles pulling taut in violent, unnatural waves.

You let out a guttural, unearthly sound from deep within your throat, and your jaw clamped so tight he could hear the grind of your teeth. Your lips were turning blue and skin pale, eyes rolled back and lids fluttering uncontrollably. He spoke to you the whole time as he held you on your side:

"Come on baby, its okay."

"I gotcha, I gotcha."

"Breathe for me, breathe. There we go, you're okay."

"I'm here, you're okay. Come on, baby. Breathe for me.”

Jack held you in place and watched the clock, 1 minute turned into 2, and then 3. He began to panic as the 4 minute mark began to creep in. Your seizures didn’t normally last thing long. Just as status epilepticus became a possibility, your body began to relax.

You gasped violently, back arching off the couch— it feeling like all the air was pushed out of your lungs. Choking on the salvia in your mouth— you coughed and sputtered all over the couch.

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart, you’re okay. You had a seizure. Just breathe. Good— good, there we go. That’s it.”

Jack. His voice. Familiar, anchoring. You tried to reach for him, but your arm barely even twitched, as if you still weren’t in control.

His warm hand cupped your cheek.

Your head throbbed and there was a sharp ache in your tongue, the taste of metal across your taste buds—you must’ve bitten it again. Your body felt wet, was it sweat or urine? Unsure if you had lost control of your bladder your hand reached down to feel the fabric of your jeans.

Soaked.

Humiliated.

“J-“ you tried to cry out, but he cut you off immediately, brushing a cool rag across your forehead. Where did he get that? When did he get that?

“Don’t try to talk yet,” Jack murmured, brushing damp hair from your forehead. “You’re safe. I’m here. You came back to me and I’ve got you.”

The post ictal state was always a limbo. Time jumping anywhere from seconds to hours to even days, unsure of what happened in between. Your head hurt, your body sore and stiff. It would be hours later that you’d wake up in his bed.

Not remembering Jack stripping you from your urine soaked clothes and helping you into the bath. You don’t remember him washing your body as you sat there unmoving. You don’t remember him dressing you in your favorite pajamas and bringing you to the kitchen for your medicine and your nightly cup of tea. You don’t remember him putting you to bed and how you fell asleep before your head even hit the pillow.

But you do remember waking up the next morning, your body still sore. A stark reminder of the night before. Your jaw was stiff, the joints almost locked as you tried to shift it side to side.

Jacks footsteps grew closer down the hall and he poked his head into the bedroom.

“Morning, honey.” You smiled softly, his eyes looking at you with concern on your face.

“How bad was it?” You asked. You don’t remember ever feeling this poorly after a seizure before.

“The worst you’ve had.” Jack answered truthfully sitting at the foot of the bed. He inched closer massaging the muscles in your legs. You groaned. “I think we should call your neurologist.

“Up my Dilantin?”

“Mhm, and get you another script for Diazepam. Looked for your Valtoco when you started seeing flashing lights but you were all out.” He said, almost disappointed.

“I’m sorry I forgot I was out.”

“ s’okay. Luckily it stopped before the 5 minute mark. But it certainly felt longer…”

“You were scared?” You asked, looking at the fear in his eyes as he relived the moment in his head. Jack Abbot? Scared? Jack Abbot has been to war. He didn’t get scared.

“Terrified.”

“I hate this,” you said hoarsely.

“I know,” he replied. “But I’ll be here. Every time.”

————

It took days to recover from your Grand Mal seizure. The extreme fatigue, sore muscles, and mental fog left you bedridden for three days. Emotions were high as you feared another potential seizure. The tears flowed strong and often, the sobs keeping Jack up at night. He’d join you— crawling into bed with you to talk. The two of you would watch movies to occupy your mind. You both watched Back To The Future, The Devil Wears Prada, Jaws, Rear Window, and The Great Escape— in that order.

You hated the way your hands shook when you reached for the remote. You hated how you lost your words halfway through a sentence. You hated needing help.

On day two you tried getting up and walking around. Jack didn’t hover. He never did. He moved around you gently, quietly, giving you space unless you looked like you were about to fall, or when your frustration turned dangerous—like when you tried to carry a cup of tea and it slipped from you grasp.

You froze, breath hitched.

He was there in an instant, kneeling beside you in the shards, catching your trembling hands.

“Don’t,” he said softly, “don’t say anything. It’s okay.”

You looked at him, eyes wide and watery. “I used to be able to hold a damn cup.”

“And you will again,” he took your shaking hands in his “You’re still coming back.”

He never said “you’ll be fine.” He knew better.

On day three, you managed a walk around the apartment. Your legs felt uneven beneath you, and the hallway blurred a little at the edges, but you made it. Jack trailed behind you, close enough to catch you, far enough to let you try.

“I feel like a ghost in my own body,”

“You’re still here. Bruised, maybe. But not gone.”

You wanted to believe that.

But nights were the worst.

Every time you closed your eyes, you were afraid you wouldn’t wake up the same— or at all. That the next seizure would take more than it left behind. That you’d open your eyes and forget your name, or worse— forget his.

On day four he was pushing you to get back to your physical therapy.

“Come on,” he said holding out his hand. “You promised me five minutes.”

“It’s stupid.” You were curled up on the couch, arms crossed, jaw tense.

“It’s five minutes.”

You narrowed your eyes as he stood there with the most ridiculous smirk on his face.

“Are you enjoying this?”

“I’m enjoying seeing you try. That’s different.”

You rolled your eyes but reached for him. Fingers trembling slightly. You right leg was always weaker—tingly sometimes, sluggish. Jack stood close but didn’t touch unless you asked. You hated needing help, but hated falling even more.

You started with balance. Heel-to-toe walking along the hallway rug. You stumbled halfway through and reached out instinctively. His hands caught your waist, steadying you like it was nothing.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mumble, a lump rising in your throat.

“Like what?”

“Like that.”

“Like I’m a child taking her first steps.”

“Don’t get upset honey. You feeling okay?”

“No.” You voice cracked. “I hate this.”

“Then don’t do any more today. Let’s just sit. Let me hold you.”

You didn’t want to cry again. You had cried enough. But you leaned into him anyway, letting your head rest on his chest, listening to the slow beat of his heart.

————

The next day was occupational therapy, which came with its own set of challenges and frustrations.

You wanted toast. Something he normally would offer to make, but he watched as you stared at the plate in front of you, knife in hand. You gripped the knife hard in your right hand, and held the toast in the other.

You tried to spread the peanut butter with shaking hands, but it clumped in the center and tore the bread. Again.

Your chest tightened. The feeling of frustration rising in your chest — hot and sharp and helpless. The same rage that boiled up every time your fingers fumbled, every time you brain lagged behind your body. You slammed the knife down, too loud, and backed away from the counter like it had burned you.

Jack came over quietly, holding two mugs of tea. He didn’t flinch at the sound. He just took one look at your face and set the mugs down without a word.

“I can’t even make toast,” you snapped, blinking too fast— trying to stop the tears that were burning your eyes.

“It’s a bad day,” he said gently.

“They’re all bad days.”

“No,” he said, coming closer. “They’re hard days. Not the same thing. Plus, I t’s always harder after a seizure.”

“I can’t write. I can’t tie my shoes. I can’t hold a fork the right way unless I concentrate like I’m defusing a fucking bomb. You don’t get it—this used to be nothing.”

“I know, but now it’s something, and every time you try again. That’s not nothing.”

You shook her head, not trusting yourself to speak. You felt the words rising in your throat— unsure how angry they’d be.

He stepped behind you, gently wrapping his arms around your torso from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Come here.”

“I said I can’t—”

“I didn’t ask you to do it alone.” He guided you back to the counter, picked up the toast, and handed you the knife again.

“I’ll hold the bread,” he said softly, anchoring it with his fingertips. “You focus on the spreading.”

It still wasn’t perfect. Your grip was awkward, and the motion uneven— your hand jerked every so often. But the knife moved. It worked. He watched in amazement as you concentrated at the task at hand. He felt like he was back in surgery with you. Watching work with fine precision and holding someone else’s life in your hands.

When you finished, Jack took a small bite and exaggerated a hum of satisfaction.

“Best toast I’ve ever had.”

“Shut up.” You laughed, trying to choke back a sob. Why did you feel so proud of yourself for making TOAST?

“Serious. Gourmet stuff.”

“Liar.”

————

The envelope was plain. Cream-colored, folded and crisp. You didn’t even have to open it.

Court summons.

You dreaded this moment. The trial date.

Where you’d have to face Charlie. The one who left you in a hospital bed, skull fractured, vision blurred, and memories stolen. The man who made you jump when you heard a door slam. The man who had once said he loved you but bruised you. Scarred you.

Jack came into the room after he heard the front door shut but he heard your footprints stop short. He looked at you, then at the letter. His jaw tensed, lips flattening into a hard, thin line.

“They called you in?” he asked.

You nodded. He didn’t say anything else at first.

You felt yourself sway slightly, off-balance, even standing still.

“I don’t want to see him again,” you whispered.

You didn’t say it aloud, but you weren’t afraid of being in the room with him. You were afraid of what would happen to you the moment she saw his face.

How easily the panic might come back.

How all the progress you’ve made may be for nothing.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Jack said. There was something in his eyes—still burning. Still coiled tight. That part of him hadn’t cooled since the night he found him on top of you in the trauma room. “I’m not sorry I hit him, I should’ve done worse.”

“Do you regret it?” You asked quietly now “Beating him like that?”

Jack laughed.

“No,” he said finally. “But I regret that you were alone long enough for me to need to.”

You didn’t cry, didn’t flinch. You stepped forward and laid your head on his chest. His heart was steady beneath your cheek.

“I don’t know if I can look him in the eye,” you whispered.

“Then don’t,” he said. “Look at me.”

The second letter came two days later.

You found it in Jack’s hands when you walked into the kitchen. He didn’t say anything right away—just held it loosely, unopened.

“What is it?” You asked.

He looked up at you, jaw clenched, eyes unreadable. Slowly, he turned the envelope toward you so you could read the seal at the top.

District Court of Pittsburgh

You breath caught.

Defendant: Jack Abbott.

Charge: Aggravated Assault.

You lost your balance.

“No— No, they can’t. You were defending me!”

Jack set the letter on the counter like it was something fragile. He didn’t meet her eyes.

“No.” he said flatly.

“What are you talking about? He was hurting me— you found him on top of me— he was— ”

“I tried to kill him.” His voice was calm, too calm. “When I saw him on you, when I saw your eyes. I wanted to kill him. I would have too— I didn’t stop until Robby pulled me off.”

“I cant lose you Jack— I can’t let you go to jail because of me.”

He stepped forward and took your face in both hands. “You are not why this happened. He is. I made my own choice.”

You shook your head, the words lodged behind your teeth. Guilt was a physical thing in your chest, heavy and pressing. Jack had protected you when no one else had.

“I’ll— I’ll testify. I’ll tell them everything. All he did to me. How much he hurt me. That you were trying to protect me. That you’re a doctor. You wouldn’t hurt anyone unless— unless…” you’re sobbing now. The words flowing.

He shushed you. Pressing his forehead to yours. Because he knew—whatever happened in that courtroom, you’d go through it together.

Tag list //

@michasia24 @emma8895eb @nosebeers @runawaybaby3 @antisocialfiore @xxxkat3xxx @livingavilaloca @popeabbot @catmomstyles3 @bxxbxy @meowmeowyoongles @midnight-dixon @nerdgirljen @aj3684 @screechingenemy18 @profoundlynerdywolf @rogersbarnesxx @sebastianstangirl01 @princesssunderworld @looneylooomis @shadowhuntyi @drlangdonsbabydaddy @celiacallsitcausal @sjester42-blog @geekgirl1996 @ksyn-faith @peggyofoz @trustme3-13 @foolishseven @floofmc @anxiousfuckupon @silas-aeiou @pinkdrinkwithraspberry @thedamnqueenofhell @tinyfairies @stellaforstar666 @ch3rrvreds @the-salty-asian @child-of-the-amis @sharkluver @introvertathome @rae4725 @cannonindeez @miserablegirliee @blackwidownat2814 @priestvss @jazzimac1967 @meganwritesfanfics @idkimhereforsmut @witchywidow97 @buckyyyismahhlife @skeletoncookiesposts @rafabarnes @glitterspark

(I think I got everyone! Sorry if I missed you!!!! Lmk if you wanna be added)

#the pitt #shawn hatosy #dr abbott #dr abbot #hbo max #fanfic #jack abbot #the pitt fanfiction #dr abbot x reader #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot #dr jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #jack abott #the pitt hbo #fanfiction

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theegyal · 2 days ago

Text

Third Wheel

Chapter 8

⚠️: vulgar & crude language; NSFW explicit content ; Sexting ; video tape description ; Janae being silly and funny

A/N : I’m very sorry for the grammar/syntax mistakes again. For the delay of that chapter. I’m really not at good place these days and it’s been tough. So I tried my best to write this down and I took a little more time on it. There’s not cliffhanger this time. This chapter serve as a bridge for the next drama that’ll unfold later. I gave spoilers at the end.

Thank you again for all your kind words and everything :)

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

Saturday arrived smoothly.

Janae stood in front of her mirror, turning this way and that, fingers fussing at her hemline. She wore a soft cotton dress, long to her ankles but with a scandalous slit and revealing neckline. She’d sent the picture to Dana. The girl told her to add more jewelry around her neck and some gold hoops.

She didn’t want to do too much.

But she didn’t want to appear basic either.

Her locs were swept into a loose, romantic bun. An insolent loc hanging loose. She dabbed perfume behind her ears, between her breasts, the pulse of each wrist.

He’s gonna look at you tonight.

That thought alone pulled her forward, down the stairs, out into the dusk.

When she reached the theater, her eyes scanned the crowd—until she spotted him.

Dereck leaned against his car — a BMW 7 Series, midnight blue with blacked-out rims.

Janae was impressed. To be honest she was intimidated. She didn’t expect him to show off to that extent. She liked his confidence in a way but couldn’t help but feeling down. A baller driving this luxury car, going on date with her ? Where was the hidden camera ?

The man was wearing a black turtleneck, wool coat, pressed pants. Clean boots. He was incredibly handsome. Nonetheless, it was the bouquet he held that made Janae stop short.

Roses. Blood red. Full-bodied. Wrapped tight in black paper.

“Hey beautiful” he grinned, stepping forward. “For you.”

She grimaced, dumbfounded. The scene was funny because the last man who offered her a rose was also…him, years ago.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or melt. “Man… the last time I received flowers, you were the one putting it in my hair”

“Well…let’s say it’s now a commitment.” He winked at her, smiling seductively, “You look…” Dereck grazed her body from head to toes, lurking a second too long at her cleavage. “…Too good to be real.”

Janae laughed, caught off guard by how fast her face lit up. She was anxious but now relieved “You not bad Palmer.” She smirked, cocky.

They went inside. The theater was old, art-deco styled, all velvet drapes and golden flourishes. She hadn’t expected this. The atmosphere smelled of nouveau riche, old money vibe.

Thinking back, Dereck Palmer was the kind of child to be pick up in expensive car after school. Something that never changed, it seemed.

Now she was anxious. Uncomfortable.

She’d thought it would be some Marvel flick or popcorn-ass rom-com. The kind Stack and her used to go when their friendship was still intact. Laughing at couple and pranking.

Stack…

This moment shouldn’t be taken over, blurred by the memory of a man who never truly acknowledged her.

No Janae. If one thing you ain’t going to do, is fucking up.

Seats were in the second row, near the center. Close enough to see the actors spit when they shouted.

“You ever been to one of these?” he asked as they sat.

She shook her head. “You tryna culture me?”

“Damn right I am.”

He was calm, legs crossed elegantly, one arm over the back of her seat. He didn’t rush to hold her hand—but when he did, his fingers finally brushed against hers, sending cold shivers down her spine.

The lights dimmed.

The play was a storm of emotions. Lovers fighting. Women singing sorrow. Betrayal and new flame.

Something about the stage—the nearness of it—made Janae feel like the whole tragedy was happening to her. She laughed. Gasped. She caught Dereck watching her once, during a quiet scene, and turned her face before he could see her embarrassment. Eyes dilated, lips parted slightly, glossed and greedy.

By the time the curtain fell and the applause thundered up, Janae felt dazed. She clapped, but her hands were slow, her head elsewhere.

Dereck brought and offered her a rose bouquet.

Booked place in a seemingly expensive theater.

They watched — not a film but a whole play.

When she felt cold, he asked her to borrow his coat.

He was perfect. Too…flawless ?

He turned to her, that smile again—satisfied. “You good?”

Janae nodded. “Yeah. Just… That was intense.”

“You looked like you were right there on stage. It was cute”

That should’ve made her uneasy. But instead it made her heart beat faster.

Outside, the sky almost turned black. The moon showing off. Shining like a diamond.

Dereck opened the car’s door for her. The BMW smelled of leather and spice wooden perfume.

His car was different from Stack Mercedes — Clean, tidy, vinyls and CDs up the glove box.

“So where we going ?” Dereck asked, glancing over at Janae as he started the engine. His palm rested loose on the wheel, wrist flexing as he adjusted his seat.

“Oh—uh, 1835 O***,” she answered too much politely.

He nodded, then smiled smugly. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not ready for this night to end.”

She didn’t respond. Just stared ahead, the corner of her lips curling. The windows fogged from the heat inside the car.

He drove very slow, turning corners like he was trying to stretch the ride.

Neither said much. But every time he downshifted, his hand brushed against the console—close to her thigh. Deliberate? Maybe.

Outside, streetlights flickered past in gold slats. Janae watched her reflection across the window. Her lip gloss was still intact. Her lashes sit well.

When they reached the building, he pulled up and kept the car running. Parked right in front of the block. She reached for the door.

But his voice stopped her.

“Wait.”

Janae paused, fingers on the handle.

Dereck shifted, undoing his car seatbelt and faced her.

“I had a good time tonight,” he confessed.

Janae turned to him, sensually, her lips parted in that sweet manner only she was capable of “Me too”

He reached up, gently tucking a rebellious loc of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered there. Thumb brushing the edge of her jaw.

“You looked so damn good sittin’ beside me. Laughin’. Commentin’. I couldn’t focus on the play.”

“Why not?”

He cocked a grin, alluring “’Cause my eyes were all on you. But you know that already.”

Janae’s breath caught. Her heart had climbed into her throat.

“Dereck…”

His hand slid from her jaw to her cheek. His fingers were warm.

He leaned in unhurried. Not rushed. He was giving her a chance to pull away. But she didn’t.

Their lips met in a tender press. Skin to skin. Nose to nose. Lips to lips. When her mouth opened shyly —nervous, unsure—he took the opportunity and deepened the kiss.

His hand gripped her thigh a little tighter, tongue slid past hers in one smooth motion, tasting, pulling. The sweet was wet. Confident.

His other hand rested light at her waist, tugging her gently closer across the seat. Her dress hitched slightly. He didn’t fumble. He took his time — not because he was hesitant, but because he knew exactly what he was doing.

By the time he released his embrace, Janae breath was ragged.

“Good night Janae” He murmured, breathing hot and low.

The next morning Janae woke up with a morning text. Dereck wished her a great day, telling her he missed her lips and wants to taste them again.

She’d stared at the screen. Cheesy. Janae was floated in a bubble of joy for weeks now.

Her lips twitched without permission. Drawing a kind of smile she forgot she could still make. That man knew the effect he had on her. It was dangerous. And since that day she bumped on him the park, Janae loved danger.

Her hand slid beneath the blanket, resting low on her stomach, warm against the soft cotton of her panties.

She hadn’t even brushed her teeth yet, and Dereck was already on her skin. The message was smooth. Confident. Just like him.

Butterflies swam in Janae’s stomach, her heart fluttering like she was still sixteen. Her thoughts wandered to yesterday night —how he had touched her thighs, kissed her lips, danced with her tongue.

Janae’s reply came playful. Exactly how she’d imagined it :

“Already? Thought I wore you out.”

He texted back right after. If She’d learned something about Dereck, is that, he wasn’t the type to leave on read or playing hard to get.

He never acted like a princess. He was a man who knew how to keep women heated.

Dereck P (0:20) : “Wore me out? Nah. I barely got started, mami. You ain’t even seen me tired yet.”

Janae arched a brow. A challenge ? She felt so comfortable with him, she swore she could take every challenge he dared thrown at her.

“Mmh and what I need to do for that ? Just curious 👀”

She was waiting for words but instead a red bubble popped on her screen. A picture.

Janae laughed, her sounds echoing in the room. Musically and sweet.

At this stage of their…relation ? Or situation ? Well, whatever it was—Janae stopped being surprised by Dereck bold behavior.

She opened the file.

He was in bed. Sheets kicked down around his hips. Bare chest sculpting his abs. His tight stomach branded down below, enticing his V-line. This time — contrary to his gym pic —, Janae almost saw everything. The thickness under the sheets fabrics. His length was half-exposed, teasing at the veins filling his curved dick.

Shit—she zoomed in. And out.

Her breath hitched, a wet molasses feeling sticking up her throat. Her belly clenched, thighs squeezed, rubbing against each other.

A burning heat spread all over her Bermuda Triangle, inside and out.

Her breasts naughtily followed the rhythm of her ragged breath. Nipples scratching harsh against her satin nightgown.

She stayed on the edge of her bed for minutes, phone still in hand, staring at that particular angle of the picture.

And then a wise voice in her head hit up. Dereck and her only went on one date. From the start they exchanged their numbers, they started flirting.

He took the lead and she followed.

The first thing the man did was sending a hot picture of himself. Well—one thing she ain’t going to do is complaining about it. Not now, after she already accepted to dance.

But, this was very different. I mean, Stack always seemed to cupped her emotions before any intimacy. Or semblance of.

Where Stack would asked about her whereabouts in middle of the day.

Dereck will send a text praising her curvy body, her reactions and tell what he gonna do to her.

Janae loved the moment she shared with him, but that voice in her head couldn’t stop telling how motivated his actions appeared.

And fuck it— she really needs to stop overthinking everything.

Janae opened her gallery. Scrolled past old pics, the one she took from behind and the spreading. She wasn’t sure. Maybe not these.

That’s when she opened her camera, her locs was messy. Pillow-flattened on one side. She turned toward the window, letting the sunlight catch her skin. Approached her nightgown’s cleavage very close — as much to see a peek of her areolas — and capture it.

She hit send. A second later, she threw the covers off and stood.

Her panties were wet.

She padded into the hallway in her satin nightgown, the dress hugging her plump breasts and tightening around her ass.

Phone still in hand, she walked by Stack sat on the couch in a shirt and grey pants, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Hey big head !” She greeted him heartily, her eyes glued on her phone screen.

“Hello Janae how are—”

Clic

She was already locked in the bathroom, cutting Stack mid-sentence. Janae didn’t realize he was speaking to her still. She was full-focus on what was happening in the dark space of her DMs.

Stack sucked his teeth, released the couch and crashed the bowl inside the kitchen sink. The cereals still floating in the warm milk.

Back to the bathroom, Janae left the water ran. She peeled off her dress, then her damp panties. Her obsidian skin was flushed, her fat nipples stiff and needy.

She leaned her phone against the sink and switched to video mode and pressed record.

Next seconds, she stepped inside the shower stall, leaving its door ajar.

Janae coiled under the stream and let the heat rushed over her. Languidly she bent over, angling her curvilicious body to catch everything — her phat moistened ass, the slit of her pussy, meat of her hard nipples hanging lasciviously —.

Water slid down the curve of her thighs, drops tracing a line from her stretchy brown booty hole to the folds of her flower.

She bent and arched her back deeper, hands bracing on her knees. The hot water flooded, brushing her skin but the burn between her legs was hotter. She swayed her hips, rolling them slow, then faster, bouncing her juicy peach under the waterfall. Each wet clap resonated through the tiled stall. She didn’t stop. Let it jiggle, slap, bounce again.

She glanced back, eyes half-lidded, her luscious lips parted.

“I ain’t done with you, yet…” she smirked, naughty while she planted her feet wide apart.

Janae grabbed her ass cheeks, widening them apart with both hands. The steam rose, she held her big pair of flesh, hanging — her anus stretched raw open, that ring of her ass twitching, her labia small and big shone with mix of juice and water. —

She let go hard, in a thunderous smack.

“Fuck—mmh you like what you see papi ?”

Her ass rippled back into shape, only for her to catch it again — fingers digging in, dragging her cheeks apart, then dropping them. Another smack. And another.

She adjusted her position, making sure the camera record every angles — the way she squirmed, how her ass wiggles, her swollen gape and the viscous, squishy line of cream dripping from her cunt.—

“Look what you did to this pussy You see that? That’s your dick’s fault.”

She swayed her hips, cooking doughy noises with her soaked cookie.

“You want a taste, daddy?”

She reached back again, close to her pinky brown fruit. With her index and middle fingers she spread her lips, gaping them to extremes, exhibiting her begging glossy vagina and spongy inner walls.

The hot air fogging the shower stall thrusted into her pussy making it queef.

“Fuck—she got words for you daddy” Janae moaned, her fluttered eyes fixed on the camera lens. She dropped down to her elbow, feet still glued on the tiled floor, far from each other.

Janae gasped, moaning pleasure after pleasure.

She dipped two fingers in and pulled them out with a squelch. Rubbed her clit in tight circles. Then fucked her pussy again. She rammed until her legs shook — climax hitting hard, she squirted all over the floor and sprayed half the sink where the phone was propped.

She slid her fingers from her wet pussy to her lips, sucking them clean, licking the pads slow, like she wanted Dereck to feel it through the screen.

“Stroke slow, papi. Don’t nut ‘til I tell you.”

She straightened, padded to the sink and cut the video. Heart thudding. Pussy twitching.

With slippery fingers she tapped on the send button and get back inside the shower stall to wash herself.

After an absolute needed hot shower, she wrapped her curves in a towel and reached for her phone checking if Dereck had received her video.

She refreshed the thread, waiting for the three little dots to dance. Nothing. She blinked. Tilted her head. Looked again.

And froze.

The name above the message thread wasn’t Dereck.

It was Stack.

“No no no—Fuckin no”

How the hell could she have confused a D with S ?

Janae had sent the tape to Stack.

Her breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat.

She stumbled back a step, phone clutched in her hand. Her towel glided down, barely hanging on. Her mind raced, tripped, flipped. She stared at the screen, tried to hold the message, refreshed the conversation but still no option to unsend.

The receipt was there. Delivered. Not seen — yet.

“Oh my God. Oh my fucking God…help me”

Janae’s heart pounded in her ears. That video was now sitting in Stack’s phone. One tap and he would see everything. Her ass clapping, her pussy spread, her voice calling him daddy,commanding him to not nut yet.

She looked up the ceiling, like some higher power might intervene.

Nothing came except the shame.

She’d sent the nastiest shit she ever filmed…To her roommate.

Janae backed into the corner of the bathroom. She wasn’t stepping out. No way. Stack was out there. On the couch. Probably scrolling down his damn phone.

She dialed Dana.

The call rang once, twice—

“Hello?”

“Bitch—Dana—I fucked up. Like, I fucked up fucked up.”

“What? What’s going on? You sound outta breath—”

“I sent a video.”

“Okay… and?”

“A sex tape.To Stack.”

“You what?”

“I thought I was sending it to Dereck—I swear to God, D and S ain’t even right next to each other but—but I wasn’t paying attention and the shit just… went through.”

“Did he open it?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Okay, so unsend it.”

“I can’t!” Janae snapped. “That’s the problem! It only says ‘delete for me.’ Not ‘delete for all.’ The option ain’t even there.”

Dana sucked her teeth. “Girl… you sent a full sex tape to your roommate.”

“Thank you for the summary Sherlock.

“No, like—I’m trying to picture the exact level of stupid you had to be to do that.”

Janae dragged a hand down her face. “I didn’t mean to!”

“But you were too excited to think straight.”

“I’m serious, Dana.”

“So am I!” Dana hissed. “You think he gon’ not open that video ? He would be like ‘oh wow, what’s this 10 ass-minute HD video my full damn naked roommate just sent me out the blue’? Girl.”

Janae crouched down on the floor her crisis mode activated. She wanted to be naughty so bad. Now she was in deep shit.

“Honestly Jan, deny everything.” Dana continued.

“Dana.”

“Say it was a prank. Or… say nothing. Pretend it never happened. Act normal.”

“Normal? After he’ll watch me call him daddy while I squirt on the bathroom tile?”

Dana snorted. “Then you own it. Be a bad bih. Stand on it, tell him that’s what he’s missing when he’s outta there playing with some damn dusty century coochie.”

Janae shook her head, her breath hitching. “This isn’t happening. This is a dream. I’m gonna wake up in my bed, texting Dereck and yes—“

“Uh-huh. And when you do wake up, call me please. I’m staying close to my phone just in case you go viral.”

“Goodbye, ma’am.”

“Lemme know if Stack moans your name in the hallway.”

“AAARF FUCK YOU”

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

That was the third time this week Janae had blown past Stack like wind through a screen door.

Not only he heard her laughing like a damn circus monkey at 3AM for God knows which reason but now she half greeting him.

‘Hey big head’. What the fuck was that shit ?

Frustrated stack slammed the apartment door and ran down the building’s parking lot.

He climbed in his black Mercedes and reached for his phone.

You around?

Sent to: Mary 🥀

Not even a minute passed before he received a shot back.

Mary 🥀: Missed me already baby boy ? Same place as usual 💋

Stack started the engine, didn’t bother to queue music Just drove. Eyes straight ahead, jaw locked. Not angry. Not exactly sad.

Just… stirred up.

Janae’s voice still rang in his head, the way she tossed it out all casual. He didn’t know what he expected.

Shit—yeah, he was the one deciding to ghost her after their moment but he’d thought well. Didn’t mean for that fuckin shift in the apartment’s atmosphere.

Stack drive led him to another neighborhood. The kind he never dared parked on — clean, no thrift shops, no peddlers or big kids selling juices and sandwiches. Just a green park nearby, some white and grey buildings.

He jumped out his seat and locked the car before striding to the hotel’s lobby.

The hallway was all beige and bronze — textured wallpaper, recessed lights, a soft hush in the air.

He swallowed, jaw tight. It was not his first time meeting Mary here. He should’ve been comfortable with all this mahogany stuff, but he couldn’t.

The lobby itself smelled of lemon oil and polished stone — the cleaning lady must get a large wage for all that — . Cold, perfect air pumped from discreet vents.

Stack called the elevator which led him to the floor 5.

Room 730. The same, every time.

He knocked once.

The lock clicked from the inside.

Mary cracked the door and let it swing open, turning back without a word. She was already barefoot, already in something silk. Cream-colored robe tied loose at the waist, her bobbed brown hair tucked behind one ear.

Stack stepped in, let the door close behind him with a muted latch.

The room smelled expensive — cinnamon and rose, lavender water and faint clean of sandalwood.

She added some furniture from the last time he came.

Stack glanced at one coffee table and marble statue. Surely crafted in Paris or somewhere else.

“Rough morning?” she asked, still not looking at him.

He shrugged, kicked off his shoes by the velvet bench at the end of the bed. “Whatever.”

Mary turned, walked toward the minibar. Her robe shifted, flashed the taut length of her thigh. Slim build, little curves — ones made of many months of Pilate lessons. Not the soft, natural plushy ones, Janae lovingly wore.

When she bent, Stack saw the shimmer of her wedding ring catch the morning light filtered through the windows.

She poured two glasses. Brought one over.

“You look tense.”

“I’m alright,” he muttered, taking the glass but not drinking.

Mary stepped closer, the edge of her robe brushing his forearm. Her perfume, that damn Prada clinging on him.

She reached for his chin, tilted his face up and kissed him.

Her hand slid down his chest, under his shirt, her red painted nails grazing against his pecan skin. She took her time pulling the fabric off, tossing it on the floor like some rag. Her fingers returned, languidly mapping his muscles, trailing lower his abdomen. She began kissing his abs, then below his bellybutton until she caught the premise of his bulge.

She dropped to her knees, bare thighs brushing the hem of his jeans as she undid them. Her eyes flicked up once, she wasn’t asking for permission, just making sure he followed. Stack stayed still, as if Medusa herself stoned him straight.

She pulled his boxers down.

He was already getting hard. His thick,curved dick pulsing right between her eyes, tipping her nose.

Mary wrapped both hands around his base, then leaned in and took him into her mouth. She worked his shaft with long, slow strokes, her hand twisting in rhythm with her mouth. Gurgling loudly, like she needed him to hear the effort.

She was good. She knew what he liked. How to make him throb.

But even with her expert mouth gliding up and down, eyes watering, tongue flicking beneath the crown — his mind wandered.

To roundish cheekbones. Laughter. Yellow worn frog dress. To a girl calling him by his name one day, and big head the next.

He grunted. Mary took it as approval.

She pulled back, lips shiny, spit connecting her chin to his tip. “Get on the bed,” she commanded breathlessly, already shrugging the robe from her shoulders.

He obeyed.

Mary climbed over him, straddling his lap to kiss him again. A frenchie. With one hand she stroked his throbbing, swollen dick while the other curled around the back of his neck.

She smelled good. Stack ain’t nothing to say about that. Her scent was always intoxicating.

He let her grind on him for a few moments, her pink nipples brushing his chest. Then she reached between the hot spot between them and guided his length inside her vagina.

She squirmed, moaning indecently as she sank down on his cock. He exhaled hard through his nose.

Mary rolled her hips leisurely, crawling,dragging her pussy over every inch, her walls fluttering. “God, I needed this,” she grunted, gripping his shoulders. “Missed this big fat dick so bad…”

Stack didn’t answer. Just let her ride. His face was turned, facing the ceiling. He felt counting the number of shapes its got mattered than focusing on Mary’s ride.

Something was off. He didn’t want to look at her — he couldn’t.

When he tried, her pale skin turned black and chocolate dipped. Her brown strict bob faded into ashes blond locs and her thin mouth parted, greedy shaped into hearty fully glossed lips.

Fuck.

Stack grabbed her waist and flipped her on all four.

Mary gasped, smiling wide. “Oh? That’s what we’re doing?”

He knelt behind, her peary ass that failed to jiggle. He thrusted his cock dry and deep. Fast and rough, as if was punishing her for some mistake she didn’t make.

Mary arched her back. Her ring catching the light again as she clawed at the cushions.

Stack saw it. That fucking jewelry. So he was just some toy boy, right ?

“Imma show you what a toy can do” he mumbled for solely him to hear and slapped her cheeks to red.

The swollen pair squeezed, while he rammed his throbbing, now veiny cock inside, squelching her cunt.

Stack found a rhythm. Let his hips rock forward and backward, harsh and strong.

Mary whimpered, her legs shaking but heat between her thighs needy as ever.

Stack furrowed, his jaw tense. This wasn’t pleasure. Not for him at least.

It was release.

Janae ignored him this morning.

She stopped waiting for him to pass the door of their poor-furnished apartment.

She laughed at whatever shit on her phone. The fuck she giggle for ?

Somebody had to take it.

This frustration. This anger.

And since she seemed to like it. Mary will do.

Stack pushed her slim thighs apart. Her pussy lips already stretching, her pussy hole leaking cream.

He didn’t put a finger in. But fucked her cunt with his cock full of seminal fluids, dragging his length out and in.

“Shit—fuck, boy—right there—don’t stop, don’t stop…”

He didn’t.

But his mind flipped back.

To thick deep brown thighs. Stretch marks mapping soft flesh. To that pudgy belly that jiggled when she laughed. To meaty and milking brown nipples pulsing on damp dark skin. To a pair of heavy, fat tits tapping slop on his face. To how she never seemed to wear a bra unless she went out. To the scent of her mushy, meaty pussy. Her doughy and creamy walls clenching around his fingers.

How would Janae sound if he hit her spot like that ?

Would she cry out his name or bite her lip and hide it?

Would she arched her back deeper, taking his dick entirely?

Mary moaned, stirring out his fantasies.

“Shit—I’m coming—Fuck”

She spilled her juice everywhere. Squirting on his chest. Drenching his soggy cock.

Stack didn’t even nut.

Ain’t want to. Pleasure wasn’t his.

Mary collapsed, panting.

Stack sat on the edge of the bed.

Behind him, she shifted under the sheets, watching him, predatory.

“That was intense,” she said, fingers trailing her inner thigh. “Love when you fuck me rough like this”

Stack didn’t reply. Remained quiet.

“You not very talkative today…you okay ?”

He nodded. “Just need a cigarette. Mind if I lit one on your veranda?”

“No. Go ahead”

He picked up his phone from the nightstand. Notifications lined up : Tariq, the group chat with Smoke and Annie, Instagram…and Janae ?

He stared at the screen, curious.

J. sent a video (10:05)

He dared not open. Was too afraid of the content.

Stack padded out on the veranda. The hot morning sunlight blinded his tired eyes for an instant. He dragged himself, leaning on the iron railing and lit a cigarette. He puffed to ashes, exhaling grey clouds.

His bare chest served as a clean mirror for the sun to reflect on. A smear or Mary’s Prada perfume clung to his collarbone. Her moans still haunting his thoughts.

Stack unlocked his phone, scrolled to contacts then tapped on his brother’s name.

Calling : Smoke 🧢

Two rings. Then a shuffle. A baby’s cries pierced through the line : high and fussy.

“Yo” Smoke answered, half out of breath.

“Damn Pearl crying again ?”

“Trying to get her to stop biting her damn hand. Teething I guess. Annie ran out to the pharmacy with Terrence. I’m playing single dad now. Shit tougher than I’d expected”

The baby cries turned gradually into whines then a muffled shushing as Smoke rocked her.

Stack stared down at the quiet street. Then said, flatly, “I’m at her place”

Smoke snorted. “Who ? That snow bunny ? what else new? She got yo ass on leash like a puppy, nigga ”

“No,” Stack exhaled. “It ain’t like that no more.”

“Huh ?”

“I barely get hard when I’m close to her. I mean she’s fine, tall. Damn she can walk next to Naomi Campbell without—”

“But she ain’t your roomie” Smoke murmured, bouncing his daughter. Her cries quieted to a hiccup.

“The fuck you mean ?”

Smoke gave a small laugh. “Swear you ain’t thinking bout that Janine, Joelle—“

“Janae” Stack groaned.

“Yeah. Tell me you ain’t thinking bout her when you’re with that married woman ?”

Stack dropped his cigarette.

“You always talk bout her when you call me. Janae did this. Mind you Janae that.”

“Elijah I didn’t call for you to tease me.”

“Fine. Fine. But I really think you should end things with that milf. There plenty of girl outta there Stack”

Plenty girls.

But not all of them laughed at 3AM. Not all of them cracked open mangoes with their bare hands. Not all of them had that little gap between their teeth, not all them love pecan chocolate cake. Not all of them…

Tag list

@lilbitt @-harmonytbh @solarssins @rkiiives @harleycativy @thelifeoflagab @juniooox @tadjoa @shamansha @brownskincheyenne @freelandgoddess @Ib-xci @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @iammyownlover @stormynovashambler @summrsovrinterlude @prettygirl2800 @puffmamaa @harleycativy @jasssdee1 @itstayleigh @queenofklonnie22 @bigjh @tadjoa @Isc72 @forzaferrariii , @blxckberrie @avidreader73 @partylikemajima @lolalikesgames @ultralspblr @post-woke @jasssdee1 @lizbehave @rkiiives @underated345-blog @thefutureemmywinner @chknnwffls @maddyf22 @jackierose902109 @iiiheartfayee @marley1773 @artistrule444 @simplyzeeka

SPOILER.

— A confession will be made

— An Heartbreak

— A coercive situation and abuse of emotional distress

#sinners #stack x oc

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yuikomorii · 3 days ago

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AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 8

// This one actually took a while because I ended up changing Yui’s face on the cover, since her eyes were pointing in two different directions, lol. Anyway, things are finally starting to get serious, so you better get ready! ;3

Previous chapter: here

Place: Living room

Ayato: ( Okay, Ayato, pretend you’re not feeling well. If I do that hopefully I’ll make the manager have mercy and try to find a way to solve this situation. )

Manager: Ayato-san, here you— A-Are you alright? You look very pale!

Ayato: Ngh… I think I got a cold due to waiting for the limo in the rain…

Manager: Oh my… this is definitely not good. I actually called you here because MUKAMI’S Kou wanted you to star in a few hours in the new episode from his variety show, but if you’re sick, then I’ll call the doctor to check on—

Ayato: No! I-I mean, I’m actually not that bad! It’s probably just lack of sleep!

( Phew, thanks goodness. I thought that girl posted something… )

Manager: Hmm... Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, you can refuse the invitation. Your health is the top priority after all.

Ayato: Yeah, yeah, I'm sure! Totally fine! In fact, I feel better already just hearing I get to spend more time with Kou!

— forces a bright smile —

Manager: ...That smile looks like you’re either in pain or plotting something.

Ayato: No way! That’s just my “I’m very excited” face!

( Ugh, Kou's variety show… Again. That means glitter, fake laughter, and probably some embarrassing costume.)

( But fine, I'll take that over a full-blown scandal any day. Besides, that’s the perfect opportunity to promote my upcoming solo. )

Manager: …Alright then. The car will pick you up in two hours. Have fun, Ayato-san.

*timeskip*

Place: Dressing room

Ayato: …Fuck, I’m seriously starting to regret my life decisions right now.

It’s purple. It has butterflies. And worst of all… I have to wear pants with RIBBONS!!!

*Knock Knock*

Kou: Heyo~! Is Ayato-kun ready~?

Ayato: Hah!? Isn’t the show starting in, like, 30 minutes!? What the hell are you doing here!?

Kou: Boo, so rude. I just wanted to greet my very special guest before the challenges begin! But hmm, someone’s a little snappy today.

Last time you came here, your popularity skyrocketed after the dance challenge. You should be grateful, Ayato-kun. I practically did it for you!

Ayato: Tch…!

— opens door —

If you think I’ve got the patience to deal with your annoying crap today, you're dead wrong. Say one more smug thing and I swear, I’ll walk off this damn show before you can say my name, understood?

Kou: Fufu~ You're even spicier today than usual. Must be the ribbons on your pants. They bring out your inner tsundere. Rawr!

Ayato: …

Okay, I’m out.

— starts to storm off —

Kou: Wait! No, no— you can’t!

— grabs his wrist —

Ayato: Hah!? Let me go, you freak! Who the hell do you think you are to mock and discredit me like that!?

Kou: Okay, okay! Maybe I was a little mean too, but you simply can’t leave!

Ayato: Oh, really? And who’s gonna stop me, huh?

Kou: Me!

Ayato: Wow, I’m soooo terrified.

— tries to push him, but his phone falls down—

…!

( Oh no! )

Kou: Haa… now will you listen to—

Hold on…

— looks down and squints at the lit-up screen —

Is that…—!

Ayato: ( Fuck! )

Place: Hotel

Co-worker 1: Yui-san, the shift’s over. Aren’t you going to start packing?

Yui: Eh? Oh, right! I kind of spaced out… Thanks for the reminder!

— smiles and walks over to her bag —

Co-worker 1: You’ve been awfully quiet today. Is everything okay?

Yui: ( Was it that obvious…? )

No worries, I’m alright. I think I’m just a little low on energy today.

Co-worker 1: Ah, I get it. It’s been a long shift.

Though… I couldn’t help but wonder if it’s actually because you still can’t believe you spent time with Ayato from SAKAMAKIS. Fufu~ You’ve been keeping it so low-key!

Yui: ( Oh no… not again. )

Haha… well, it was surprising.

Co-worker 1: I bet! It’s not every day a person meets a celebrity, especially one like him. What was he like? As confident and cool as he looks on TV?

Yui: I mean… sure, but let’s just say there’s more to him than what he shows the world.

Co-worker 1: Ooh? That sounds mysterious~. Now you’re really making me curious!

Yui: ( It’s hard to explain… )

I guess sometimes people who are in the spotlight feel pressure we don’t see. He seemed like someone who carries more than he lets on. It made me think a lot after we parted ways.

Co-worker 1: That’s a kind way to look at it, Yui-san. Most people would just brag or gush endlessly. I admire you~

Yui: ( I wanted to be annoyed, I really did… but it’s true that I overreacted too. I couldn’t stop thinking about him… I’m sure signing that NDA was important. )

( After everything, I see now that I was the selfish one, and he was only trying to shield his career from any issues, which is honestly understandable. )

Place: Subway

— Billboard Screen starts playing an ad —

Ayato: “Ah, so refreshing! Taste the new flavors of Aquatic Water! This time watermelon, grapes, and mango! Quench your thirst the royal way~!”

— winks —

Yui: ( Why is it that every time I’m trying to forget something, the universe hits me in the face with it…!? )

Teen 1: OMG! That’s Ayato from SAKAMAKIS!

Teen 2: I bought the mango one just because of him!

Teen 3: He’s sooo hot and cool… I’d drink anything if he told me to!

Teen 2: Even sewer water??

Teen 3: If he did it with that voice, yes!

Teen 1: Kyaa, me too!!

— they all start giggling —

Yui: ( Well… I guess I can’t really blame them. Setting aside everything that happened between us, I have to admit it that he really is incredibly charismatic. )

( And that’s what confuses me, honestly. Why is he so scared of something ruining his career? He’s already adored by so many, so even if something went wrong… I feel like people would still support him, no matter what. )

( Or maybe… that’s exactly why he’s so careful. When you’ve climbed that high, there’s a lot more to lose. )

Haa… I should just let it go. It’s not really my place to dwell on it. What happened… just happened. That’s all.

There’s no point in overthinking it now.

( However… )

*timeskip*

Place: Show Set

Kou: Alright everyone, amazing work today~! See you all next week!

— waves to the crew as they begin to pack up —

Ayato: …

— quietly removes mic —

Kou: So… uhm… how was it?

You looked like you were actually having fun for once.

Ayato: Haa… It was alright, I guess.

Kou: Well, hey, I didn’t ask anything embarrassing this time!

Hehe, that’s called growth, right?

Ayato: If you had, I’d have switched your soda with chili extract.

— deadpan —

Kou: Wha—! Geez!

But seriously… I also wanted to talk about, y’know…

— Ayato covers his mouth —

Ayato: Not here, you idiot!

Wait till everyone’s cleared out! Are you trying to get me in trouble!?

* 10 minutes later *

Kou: Okay, so… now that it’s just the two of us…

— leans forward —

Ayato: Tch—Damn it! Stop making it sound so weird!

We’re not in some shady drama, idiot!

Kou: Haha~ Sorry, sorry! You just have that energy around you, Ayato-kun. All anxious and guilty-looking lately.

Ayato: Anxious and guilty-looking my ass.

— crosses his arms and slouches into the chair —

I’ve just been tired, that’s all.

Kou: Riiight. Tired.

— squints suspiciously —

Is that what we’re calling “panic-checking your phone every 10 minutes and zoning out” now?

Ayato: Tch, stop imagining stuff.

Kou: Mmmhmm, sure. Just like I imagined the moment your phone fell earlier and I saw that very interesting notification pop up…

— smirks —

IT girl Yumin Kang, huh? Didn’t know you two were a thing~

Ayato: We’re not a “thing,” idiot! She’s been talking about hosting some new show and said she’s looking for a co-MC or whatever. My fans kept tagging me, she said I’ve got the potential, so I just checked it out, end of story!

Kou: Ohhh, I see. So you just casually stalked her Weverse page for “professional reasons.”

Ayato: It wasn’t stalking, you nosy raccoon! I was trying to make sure I wasn’t being dragged into some weird publicity stunt without even knowing!

Kou: Aw, how responsible of you~, Ayato-kun, caring so much about his public image. Should I start calling you “PR-kun” now?

Ayato: Keep it up and I’ll superglue your fake lashes to your forehead before your next camera close-up.

Kou: Eek! Sadistic and image-conscious? What a combo! Honestly, I think Yumin would be into that.

Ayato: Ugh… You’re so fucking annoying!

Kou: Of course I am! It’s not every day the Great Ayato gets all flustered over a girl’s name popping up on his lock screen.

Ayato: It wasn’t even a message, damn it! It was a livestream reminder!

Kou: So~ you’re planning to watch Yumin Kang’s Weverse livestream? Let me guess… just “market research”?

Ayato: Tch. No, of course not. I’m not that bored.

…Well, maybe just for a few minutes. Gotta stay informed in case she says something stupid involving my name.

Kou: Aha! So you are watching it! Should I bring popcorn? Or maybe tissues, in case she gives you a shoutout and your heart melts?

Ayato: If she gives me a shoutout, it’ll stir up another stupid rumor I’ll have to deny for weeks.

Seriously, I’m so sick of dodging dumb scandals left and right. Every time I breathe near a girl, people start losing their minds.

Kou: Poor Ayato-kun, targeted by ladies. How tragic~

Ayato: Tragic is right! Women are the root of all evil. First they smile at you, then suddenly you’re trending for “slept with Ayato” or “Ayato emotionally scarred me” and your manager’s blowing up your phone at 2 a.m. asking what the hell you did this time!!!

Kou: Whoa, okay— who hurt you lately?

Ayato: Someone who reeks of cheap perfume and passive-aggressive righteousness, that’s who…

Kou: Wait, hold on. Are we still talking about Yumin, or is this turning into something… deeper?

Ayato: Shut up, loser.

Kou: …Okay, okay. Maybe I was being nosy. Sorry.

But… just saying, Yumin is famous and comes from an influential family like you, so she’s not the type to acknowledge anyone, if you get what I mean. The fact that she replied to your fans saying you’ve got co-host potential most likely means she’s actually interested in you for real.

Ayato: Well, duh. I’m Ayato, who wouldn’t be?

Kou: Hmm… Alright, Mr. Main Character. Then why haven’t you contacted her yet?

Ayato: Because I’m not some desperate rookie looking for spotlight! I don’t need her validation or whatever gig she’s offering. If anything, she should be the one contacting me!

Kou: So pride over opportunity, huh?

Ayato: It’s called standards. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am. I’m not about to throw myself into some random collab just because people think we’d look cute on screen together.

Kou: To be fair… you were prone to become famous. After all you’re the son of—

Ayato: Quiet! The livestream is starting!

Kou: ( Already invested, eh? )

Place: Yui’s room

Yui: ( Okay… laundry folded and dinner’s prepped! It’s time to call dad. It’s been a while since we talked properly. )

— taps on contacts —

Come on, answer…

Seiji: Yui! Here you are!

Yui: Yay, you picked it up! I tried calling you earlier but you didn’t answer my phone…

— pouts —

Seiji: Ah, sorry about that. I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise. Something came up and I had to step away from my phone for a bit. I hope I didn’t worry you too much.

Yui: Eh? Was it something bad? Are you alright now?

Seiji: No, dear, nothing serious. Just a minor issue at work. It’s already been resolved, so no need to worry.

Yui: I’m glad to hear that! For a moment there, I thought maybe you were overworking yourself again.

Seiji: Heh, I knew you’d say that. But I promise I’m taking better care of myself lately.

How have you been though?

Yui: …Pretty good. Tokyo is really cool. There’s always something happening, you know?

Seiji: I can imagine. A big change from our quiet little town, huh?

Yui: Yeah… it feels like I stepped into a whole different world, but in a good way.

Seiji: You’ve always been brave about facing the unfamiliar. Still… I suppose it must get lonely at times.

Yui: Uuh… sort of. But I got the chance to meet a lot of people. Some are super nice, others are… more complicated, though.

Seiji: Complicated? How…?

Yui: Ah—! Nothing bad! Just… people with their own walls. You try to reach them, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I guess that’s just how life is.

They might also act a bit… arrogant and mean. Not because they’re bad people, but maybe because they’re scared. Scared of losing something, or someone.

I just think that if someone is acting out due to that, they need kindness more than criticism.

Seiji: Very true, Yui. Nevertheless, you shouldn’t focus so much on other people’s problems. This is your journey too, remember?

Yui: Y-Yeah, you’re right .

Seiji: See? Help others when you can, but don't forget that your heart matters too.

Oh—! It’s pretty late. Would you like us to continue talking or do you have to wake up early?

Yui: No worries, I have no shift tomorrow so we can keep it up!

Seiji: That’s good. I missed hearing the voice of my precious daughter.

Yui: I missed your voice too. It feels… comforting.

Seiji: That’s how it should be. No matter how far you are, Yui, I will always be your home too. You don’t have to carry everything on your own.

Yui: ( Even now, he manages to say exactly what I need to hear… )

Thanks, dad.

Seiji: Anytime, sweetheart.

So… anything else you feel like telling me? Maybe a certain someone you’ve been thinking about a lot lately?

Yui: Ehh!? N-No, nothing like that!!

Seiji: Just checking~. You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve.

Yui: E-Enough… Dad!!

Seiji: Haha, alright, alright. I’ll behave. Now tell me, have you tried any new recipes lately? I bet you’ve already added your own twist to the classics.

Yui: Hmm… not really, but I did try cooking new things! Let me tell you about some!

Place: Practice room

Kou: So… what’s the verdict?

Ayato: …Fine. I’ll consider contacting her.

Kou: Hehe, thought so~

Ayato: Can you blame me!? She’s hot as heck!

Kou: Of course she is. She’s the lT girl after all.

Although, I’m surprised you didn’t already notice that. Her billboards are everywhere in Korea, Japan and China.

Ayato: I don’t pay attention to other people’s billboards, so…

Kou: Huh, so you really are that self-absorbed. Not even a glance at your competition?

Ayato: Tch, it’s not “competition” when I’m already the best.

Kou: Oho~ So confident. But even you couldn’t resist Yumin’s charm, huh?

Ayato: I said she’s hot, not that I’m in love with her or anything! Don’t get it twisted!

Kou: Mmhmm~ So you’re just joining the show for… business?

Ayato: Obviously! Exposure, headlines, maybe some fun. Doesn’t mean I suddenly like her or whatever.

Kou: Suuure.

Ayato: Why are you even so obsessed with the idea of me and her!?

Kou: Because it could actually help us, that’s why!

Ayato: Huh? What the hell are you talking about?

Kou: Haa… I know you’re not knowledgeable about this side of idol life, but Rejet Labels has been in trouble for a while now. We’re still standing thanks to group momentum and name recognition, but financially? Well, things aren’t as solid as they look.

Ayato: That can’t be right… Our albums and merch still sell out in minutes!

Kou: Sure, those do. But overall revenue? Debts? Contract renewals? Nope, not so pretty. And let’s not even talk about solo projects. The execs are getting antsy, Ayato-kun.

Ayato: …So what, you think pairing me up with that Yumin chick is gonna fix all that?

Kou: Not magically, but it’d start a wave. If someone like her wants you, even just publicly engaging, it opens doors for new offers, collabs and attention from international media, which is stuff the company desperately needs.

Ayato: But like that… doesn’t it mean I’d be using her?

Kou: Well… maybe it feels that way, but not if both sides benefit from it.

Ayato: That sounds like one of those convenient things people say when they want to justify doing something shady.

Kou: No, I’m serious. Think about it… she’s not some innocent little newbie who’d fall head-over-heels just because you looked at her. Yumin knows the game. She’s been under the spotlight for her whole life, which means she’s had media training practically since birth. If she’s showing interest in you or this partnership idea, it’s because it works for her image too.

Ayato: Yeah, but that’s exactly what makes it feel even more fake. Like, if both sides know it’s all for show, what’s the point?

Kou: Because we live in a give-and-take world. It’s not about fake or real, but about mutual value. You think luxury brands hand celebs free stuff out of kindness? Of course not!

Ayato: So basically, “pretend you care and enjoy the boost.” That what you’re telling me?

Kou: Exactly! This way, not only will you become even more known, but you’ll also play the dazzling savior of our financially limping company! Isn’t that great?

Ayato: Heh. When you say it like that… it kinda sounds cool. Like I’m a hero or something.

Kou: Finally, he gets it! Our very own knight in ribbon pants!

Ayato: …But she’s in Korea, dumbass. I’m not flying out there just to chat. I only start promotions there after my solo release after all.

Kou: Not necessarily~

Let’s just say… I might know a guy who knows a guy who once dog-sat for a person who works for her.

Ayato: …What?

Kou: Long story short: After seeing your phone notification, I may or may not have casually floated the idea of a no-pressure, friendly, definitely-not-suspicious meetup between you and Yumin. In Japan. This week. Maybe.

Ayato: Wait… That face…

No! No, no, no! Don’t tell me you actually set up a meeting between us!

Kou: Uhhh… set up is a very strong word in this context! I prefer “gently manifested the possibility of social alignment.”

Ayato: You bastard, you did that!

Kou: Calm down!! I swear, there’s no signed blood pact or anything! I just sent a vibe-heavy email with emojis!

Ayato: Emojis!?

Kou: But they were cute ones! Just a smiley face, handshake, sparkle, and fire.

Ayato: I’m gonna kill you!!!

Kou: Joke’s on you, if this works, we’ll both be too rich and famous for murder!

Ayato: You’re so… ugh! Fuck you!

Kou: Relax~ It’s not like the world’s ending. Don’t tell me the Great Ayato is shaking in his ribbon pants over talking to a girl~

Ayato: Me? Shaking? The only thing that’s shaking is my fanbase when I post a selfie!

Kou: Okay but on a serious note, it’s just a chill conversation to set things straight and get to know each other. Your kingdom won’t crumble.

Ayato: Hmph, fine. But if this blows up and I look like a desperate creep, you’re writing all the apology fan posts!

Kou: Silly, the press and the fans won’t know that you’ll meet up with her.

Ayato: I’m famous, idiot. I can’t even sneeze without ending up on at least six gossip blogs and a fan-made TikTok edit.

Kou: That’s why I’ve got…

——A disguise plan!

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #ayato sakamaki #ayato x yui #ayayui #dialovers #my fanfic #(it’s so fun writing kou)#kou mukami

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bug-the-chicken-nug · 2 days ago

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I feel like one of the things I like most about Locked Tomb is how it doesn't fall into the common traps present in like Settings where Earth is either outright gone or has suffered some huge global catastrophe, but this is our Chance to Do Better Now and finally Fix It

like. i feel really disillusioned by those, because like even when it's presented more idealistically.

there is still often this really naive and punitive undercurrent.

So much of it boils down to "what humanity needs is a huge collective spanking, that'll Fix Everything/atone for our Sins!" this feeling where it's like the author is throwing a temper tantrum in frustration, and just wants to manufacture a situation where they get to be God and Smite everyone who misbehaves, so that they can finally have it Their Way, and that so everyone will Finally See. and even in the settings where this isn't presented as a "solution", it still tends to feel like Earth was sort of trivialized into a "roadblock" of sorts, or a "sacrifice" to grease the narrative's wheels. like a lot of them, even when it doesn't lowkey feel like it's about "punishing" or "spanking" humanity, still seem to be obsessed with making super bad dramatic things happen to Earth, to the point it kinda percolates into the collective conscious and makes everyone adopt this subconscious doomer belief that this is probably at least close to what's really gonna happen, even if they acknowledge rationally that it's fiction. I feel like for all people love to complain that Gideon The Ninth gets overhyped and isn't that good, it's still one of the small percentage of narratives that just straight up clearly says "no, fuck you, just giving humanity a big enough spanking is not the answer, and the guy who thought it was the answer is actually an extremely selfish and authoritarian piece of shit, that's *why* he thought it was a good answer" and not only that, it never stops to redundantly navel-gaze about the devil's advocate viewpoint. you never get the sense you're seriously supposed to entertain any quibbling over some underlying belief in this as a "necessary evil" or a "for our own good" or our "big wakeup call". it is full stop the wrong answer. if you think it's not, shut the fuck up, we don't have time for you. There's never an intrusive sense that the narrative thinks Earth-That-Was is just some kind of speedbump or roadblock to getting what it wanted. it can actually stick it its guns and just be abundantly clear that this was unambiguously a tragedy that actually does matter, and ultimately didn't "fix" jack shit that hasn't been replaced with NEW problems anyway. Nor do you get the excessive sense that the point of the story is to be like... over-indulgently cautionary. Too wrapped up in tutting and finger-waggling at ne'er-do-wells who aren't even going to realize the story's about them anyway. you also don't have to deal with the thing with like how stories that *don't* do this and instead want to celebrate Earth just overcorrect and make everything boring and act like our fundamental problem is that we won't just settle for less and enter a slow age of "safe" mediocrity. "ambition bad and any sufficiently advanced science evil and scary. live in a cottage. grow tomatoes. develop a weirdly demonized outlook on large cities and an obsession with suburbs and rural areas. still die only a little slower than people used to. significant life extension is just fundamentally too scary and it's the latest in-vogue take to be pessimistic about how good of an idea it is, and also pessimistically assume it'll take an absurd amount of time to get good at it." "like nevermind how much has changed if you look at the difference between 1925 and 2025. ignore that. ignore that most technological advancement follows an S-curve. this is totally going to be the point where it'll still be stupid to expect a huge difference by 2125." "let's just be tree-huggers who're all like three steps away from being Amish, at the end of the day" i know this is all kind of mean to things that AREN'T tlt, and kind of makes me come off as one of Those People who thinks it's perfect, but I am not saying it is, or saying that nothing else has ever managed to creatively subvert my issues with how much sci-fi does this type of thing.

#gtn #tlt #locked tomb #gideon the ninth #sorry this is overall kind of mean to things that aren't tlt

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just-sg · 1 hour ago

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The thing is, they don't deserve it, but the alternative is worse. That doesn't mean forgetting, and don't let them think you have, but whenever possible, we all need to try to at least not push them away. We need to tell them "Well, better late than never, but IF YOU'RE REALLY sorry, I'm gonna need you to DO SOMETHING about it," and offer guidance on how they can do that.

In times this dire, a bad ally is better than an enemy. A temporary ally is better than an enemy. An actual still enemy is better than a far bigger and more dangerous enemy.

We can hope and pray that some of them will genuinely have a wake-up call and become good allies with time. It is literally not possible for every single person to be an equally lost cause, but even if the number who significantly improved through the experience was entirely negligible, that's a problem for after, and this is a problem for right now.

It's more like... Not a perfect metaphor but, they were driving drunk, and have now driven off a cliff, and they're trying to apologize mid fall. This sucks and it's their fault! If you tell them, "Okay, but how are we getting out of this?" maybe you can somehow use your precious few seconds to brace yourselves together and narrowly survive. If you spend those seconds yelling at them for their audacity, you're more likely to both die. You might luck out either way, or you might both die either way. But it's about taking the action Right Here And Now that improves your odds even if it's only a little, and encouraging everyone else to do the same in hopes those tiny bits will add up enough. Even though they don't deserve it, even though it feels bad, even though it sucks. It's trying to focus on the big picture not for their sake, but for yours and for everyone you love.

And that's not always safe to do, and there will obviously be different degrees you can manage with different people! "Forgiveness" here doesn't have to mean "yeah we're cool, don't even worry about it." All it means is resisting the urge to respond to their "sorry" with "fuck you" and instead saying "prove it," and doing our best to help them do that, just if and when and to whatever degree we can.

it’s so funny how ex-Trump supporters who voted for him are like "I know I made a mistake. Everybody does. You showed forgive me. 🥺" Why the fuck would I do that? I never voted for Mr. Fascism. Also, it has been less than a year. It's like you were drunk driving and tried to apologize mid car wreck.

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rottenredau · 3 days ago

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all aus created by me.

Proto-dad au

-basically a single father of like 20+ children. (Dogday, pls come back)

-acts on impulse to survive.

-the prototype is the only person keeping him steady other than the mini’s

-has had several crash-outs that were caused by misunderstandings

-depressed and mourns a lot

-Dogday is pissed at him but not enough to hate him.

-likes singing and music in general.

-has a fic

2. Rotten Red

-probably the least capable of beating anyone’s ass, but only cause hes quite literally kept on a leash.

-really sneaky on accident, will accidentally jumpscare you by crawling out of a vent.

-self loathing on a different level, actively falling apart and it shows.

-wants to help people recover, and then simply pass away.

-he will throw a fit if you try and get him to take a bath (it overstimulates him :()

-can’t tell if his dogday wants to kill him or fuck him but he’s chill with either.

-likes frolicking in nature and rain.

-has a fic

3. Cabin Critters!

-Traumatized child who acts way too old for his age.

-Dogday and him are inseparable.

-would fight the canon prototype and somehow win.

-dissociates a lot.

-has not opened up about his experiences. Has vivid nightmares of the events of the hour of joy in catnaps pov.

-his mom was arrested for almost killing him.

-takes good care of dogday and vice versa.

-likes Botany.

4. Retro au

-constantly experiencing physical and mental hell with short pauses.

-guilt is eating him alive from the inside. Literally.

-just let him in man, he’s freezing :(

-his dogday is traumatized by him, and it’s gonna take a lot of time to heal.

-absorbs negative emotions, this will decay his body faster.

-is like this because it’s what all the other critters think he deserves, they haven’t seen the extent of how bad it is and how worse it’s going to get.

-takes care of the people he loves, even if they don’t need it. Never asks for anything in return, declines offers for help if he can.

-just fucking cuddle him at this point, he was a kid too.

5. DizzyDreams (un released to the public lol)

-my first smiling critters au I’ve ever made. And it’s still not something I’m finished editing but you’ll get more stuff soon.

-probably the best at hiding his suffering, literally no one notices.

-has a magical girl form, but his pixi thing is a trauma demon who makes fun of him all of the time.

-his dogday hates him but also yearning.

-really good at navigating emotions surprisingly, doesn’t rush anyone’s forgiveness or make them feel like they owe him anything.

-can barely get up in the mornings.

-really nice singing voice.

-glows in the dark.

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters au #poppy playtime au #catnap

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sourmeiyok · 2 days ago

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CENTER - chapter two!

Y/n never cared about hockey. She didn’t watch it, didn’t understand the rules, and had no interest in learning. But when her dad pushed her into being the team’s manager, she didn’t really have a choice. That’s where she met a ginger-haired girl who was quiet, a little awkward, and way too easy to think about.

that ginger is too quiet.

Your dad walked up to you, clipboard in hand. “So, what did you observe during drills?”

You paused for a second, arms crossed. “You want my honest take?”

He raised an eyebrow. “That is why I asked.”

You sighed. “Alright… Daniela’s hotheaded. You already know that. But she’s sharp on the rink. Quick reads, good instincts. She just needs to keep her temper in check before it costs the team a penalty.”

He nodded slowly, motioning for you to continue.

“Lara’s solid in net. Good positioning. But her reflexes could use some tightening. There were a couple shots that caught her late, and she didn’t reset fast enough after rebounds.”

Your dad made a note.

“Ryujin’s got the size and reach, she covers space well. But she hesitates when you change up the drills. Like she second-guesses herself if it’s not something she’s done a hundred times.”

“Interesting,” he said under his breath.

You kept going. “Sohyun… kind of a puck hog. Skilled, for sure, but she holds onto it too long sometimes when a pass would be cleaner.”

He let out a small breath at that one.

“Kazuha’s fast,” you said. “But not fast enough to cover as much ground as she tries to. You can tell she’s pushing herself, but she can’t be everywhere at once.”

Your dad gave you a look. “And Megan?”

You shrugged, a little caught. “She’s… hard to read. Quiet, but she zones in when the puck drops. She’s got control, but sometimes it’s like her mind’s somewhere else. A little disconnected. Still, she’s focused where it counts.”

He stared at you for a second, then gave a short nod. “Not bad.”

“Didn’t think I was paying attention, huh?”

“Didn’t think you’d notice that much,” he said.

You didn’t respond.

“You’re gonna need a notepad,” your dad said, walking toward his office. “No way you’ll remember all that when it’s time to actually tell them.”

You followed after him, not sure if you were supposed to, but doing it anyway.

“Wait…I have to tell them those things?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Of course you do,” he said, dropping into his chair. “How else are they supposed to improve? Communication is key. In anything, not just hockey. I mean, you’re great at communicating how much you hate this sport, now you just have to use that same energy to tell your team where they need to improve. Simple.”

You muttered under your breath, “God fucking dammit.”

“Language. I caught that,” he said, not even looking up as he started going through a stack of papers.

You slumped into the chair across from him, rubbing your face. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that? Just walk up to them and say, ‘Hey, your reflexes suck. Try harder next time’?”

“Maybe don’t phrase it like that,” he said flatly. “You’re not here to insult them. You’re here to help.”

You stared at him. “I didn’t sign up to be a motivational speaker.”

“You didn’t sign up at all,” he reminded you, deadpan.

You didn’t argue. Mostly because he was right.

He looked up at you again. “Start with the easy stuff. Observations. Ask questions. Keep it casual. You’re not their coach, just someone with a different view of the game. They’ll either take it or leave it.”

You nodded slowly, thinking it over. “So basically, I point things out and hope they don’t hate me for it.”

“Exactly,” he said, already back to flipping through his notes.

You sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Great. Can’t wait.”

Now, you were slumped on your bed with your notepad and pen in hand, trying to wrap your head around managing a team you barely understood.

“Okay,” you said, sighing. “What do I need to know about the players? Like, who’s easy to handle, who’s a pain?”

Chaewon shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “Look, I’m gonna be real with you. Daniela and Sohyun? They do not take criticism well. I learned that the hard way.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hard way?”

Chaewon nodded, a little grim. “Daniela’s got this fire in her, she’s one of the best on the rink, no question. But if you tell her something she doesn’t wanna hear? She gets defensive fast. Like, full-on stubborn and ready to argue you down. You have to pick your moments carefully, or it’ll blow up. And Sohyun… she’s the same, but more in her own way.”

“How so?”

“Sohyun’s skilled, but she can get really touchy about being told how to play. She’s got this attitude where she thinks she knows better than anyone else, even when she doesn’t. So when you try to give her feedback, she might act like she’s listening, but she’s really just waiting for you to finish so she can do whatever she wants anyway.”

You let that sink in. “Great. So two of the main players will probably hate me from day one.”

Chaewon laughed, a little bitter. “Welcome to managing. But it’s not all bad. You just gotta be firm but smart about it. And the others?”

You nodded, eager for the rest.

“Ryujin’s chill. She listens, takes what you say, and actually works on it without complaining. Lara’s the same, solid goalie, listens well. Kazuha’s a bit stubborn sometimes, but she’ll do what you say as long as it makes sense to her.”

You flipped your notepad open, writing it down.

“What about Megan?” you asked, lowering your voice a bit.

Chaewon sighed. “Megan’s a whole other story. She tries really hard to get things right the first time. When she messes up, she gets stuck in her own head and it just spirals. You have to keep reminding her that nobody’s perfect and that she doesn’t need to get it right every time, just show progress. Patience is key with her, without it, she’ll shut down or get frustrated.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of it all. Managing wasn’t just about keeping track of schedules and gear, it was dealing with all these different personalities, moods, and egos.

Chaewon gave you a look. “Just don’t let Daniela and Sohyun get to you. They’re tough, but if you can handle them, the rest is easier.”

You rubbed your temples. “Yeah, no pressure.”

Chaewon was so wrong.

Daniela already looked pissed to be there. No idea what happened, but you overheard something about her getting into a physical fight with some girl named Minjeong. Yeah, that was gonna be a tough conversation, you figured.

And Sohyun? She pretty much rolled her eyes every time someone even breathed near her.

Then there was Megan, the tall, ginger-haired girl who looked like she was fighting a war inside her head.

How the hell were you supposed to survive this?

So you decided to start with the easy ones: Kazuha, Lara, and Ryujin.

You turned your notepad over in your hand, staring at the next few names you hadn’t crossed off. The easy ones were done. Kazuha had been polite and to the point. Lara gave short but clear responses. Ryujin was receptive without overthinking it. You could work with that.

But now came the part you were dreading.

Sohyun was sitting on the far end of the bleachers, earbuds in, chewing gum like she had better places to be, which, to be fair, she probably believed. You walked over anyway.

“Hey,” you said, not too loud.

She didn’t look up. Just popped her gum.

You tried again. “Sohyun.”

Finally, she pulled out one earbud and gave you a look that landed somewhere between boredom and mild irritation.

“I just wanted to give you some quick feedback,” you started. “You’ve got solid control with the puck. No one’s denying that. But you hold on a little too long sometimes. There were a few plays today where a clean pass would’ve worked better.”

She didn’t respond right away, just raised an eyebrow slightly, like she was waiting to see how serious you were.

“I’m not saying stop playing aggressive,” you added. “Just trust your teammates a little more.”

Sohyun shrugged, put her earbud back in, and didn’t say anything.

You stood there for another second, then turned and walked off. Not hostile, you told yourself. Just… not interested in being told anything. You made a note to keep things short with her from now on, if she wanted to listen, she would.

You took a breath and looked across the rink. Daniela was off to the side, half-sitting on the boards, arms crossed, clearly in her own world. She wasn’t talking to anyone. You had no idea what was going on in her head, and honestly, you didn’t really want to find out.

Still, you walked over.

“Hey,” you said, keeping your tone even.

She turned her head toward you slowly, like she already didn’t like where this was going.

“I just wanted to check in. You’re fast, sharp, and probably the most aggressive out there, which works for you. But it feels like your energy’s all over the place right now.”

She gave you a look. Not exactly hostile, more like who do you think you are?

You pressed on. “I’m not telling you to dial it back. I’m saying… try to channel it. Use it where it counts. That’s what makes the difference.”

For a second, you weren’t sure she was going to say anything at all.

Then: “Noted,” she said flatly, hopping off the boards and walking away without waiting for a response.

You didn’t take it personally. At least she didn’t blow up on you. That was probably a win.

Which left… Megan.

She was by herself, slowly taking her skates off near the edge of the rink. Everyone else had already cleared out or moved toward the locker room. You hovered for a second, watching her quietly. She looked tired, not physically, but mentally. Like her brain hadn’t stopped spinning since practice started.

You walked over and crouched a little beside her.

“Hey.”

She glanced up, startled, then gave a small nod. “Hi.”

“I just wanted to say… I watched you out there today. You’ve got great control when you’re in the zone. Like, it’s obvious you know what you’re doing.”

Her eyes flicked toward you and then back to her skate laces.

“But I also noticed you put a lot of pressure on yourself. Like if something doesn’t go exactly right, it throws you off.”

She didn’t say anything, just stared down at her hands.

“I’m not here to criticize you,” you said, a little softer. “Just… if something goes wrong, shake it off. You’re good. Seriously. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to keep going.”

She finally looked at you, and even though she didn’t say much, there was a flicker of something in her expression, like maybe she needed to hear that.

“…Okay,” she said quietly. “Thanks.”

You stood up and gave her a small nod, then turned to leave. She didn’t stop you, but you felt her eyes follow you as you walked away.

You crossed the last name off your notepad and let out a long breath. Day one, and this already felt like a full-time job.

How the hell am I gonna keep this up all season?

next ꨄ masterlist

taglist! @fruityg0rl @notheroverthinker @makelame @wavvy @cassiespoiler @northclairo

#katseye #sourmeiyok works #daniela avanzini #katseye daniela #wlw #katseye smau #smau #megan skiendiel x reader #katseye megan #manon katseye #hanni pham #danielle marsh #park sohyun #shin ryujin #university #hockey

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artisiumstudios · 3 hours ago

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“Grunkle stan?”

Stan turned around wide eyed, not expecting anyone to be awake, especially not the kids. Especially not dipper.

“Uh, hey there-“

“What’re you doing? Why are there so many boxes? Where are you-“ dippers voice rose with each question, his hands slightly shaking.

Stan kneels down, his knees creaking under his weight as he places his hands on dippers shoulders, “calm down kid, take some deep breaths with me.”

Dipper nods, the next few minutes spent inhaling and exhaling until his heart finally felt like it wouldn’t pop out his chest.

“Better?”

Dipper nods again, glancing behind Stan at the boxes, “Are you leaving?”

Stan sighs, “Guess there’s not point in avoiding it any longer. I mean you would’ve figured it out eventually, after all you’re staying with my brother.”

“But why?” Dipper stammers, “I thought you were gonna be here with us- I thought-“

“Dipper,” Stan said, his voice tight with emotion unable to make eye contact, “things are complicated with my brother, you’ve seen it, and they have been for a while. Even before the whole accident.”

Dipper grimaced, unable to deny it. Anytime either of the elder pines twins were in the room together the atmosphere would change into something more tense, awkward. Attempts at trying to talk to each other or trying to spend any type of quality time always resulted in snide remarks, some magical wacky adventure, or in worst case scenarios; arguments.

“Look me and Ford had a deal, and I’m just going through on my end.”

Dipper looked up, his brows furrowed, “what do you mean deal?”

“At the end of the summer I give him his name and life back, that includes me leaving.”

“But that’s not fair! You can’t just leave! Where would you even go?!”

“Kid it’s fine,-“

“No it’s not!”

“Dipper! Don’t be so loud, you’re gonna-“

“No! Yeah you have made mistakes and maybe you lied to us the whole summer, but it was for a good reason! You saved grunkle ford and gave up 30 years of your life without expecting anything in return! And maybe you weren’t the best care taker and sure you’re a criminal but you’re not a bad guy!” Stan’s words echoed in his mind from the day the portal opened, the rawness and desperation in his voice was not something he had registered at the moment but now in the that moment he understood what it meant; fear of losing his family once more and most importantly the love he has for them.

Dipper looked down in shame, now understanding where his sisters fear were coming from, why she was scared of growing up. It was not selfishness but rather fear of growing apart, just like their grunkles. “It’s not fair that you’re being kicked out again and much less by your twin.”

Stan pulled dipper into a hug, the comforting touch something out of the ordinary but not unwanted. “Life isn’t fair sometimes kid, and for once I’m not gonna lie and it does suck that this is happening, but I’m not going to fight ford about it .”

Dipper gripped Stan’s shirt, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“It’s gonna be okay kiddo.” Dipper heard sniffling, but chose not to comment on it. Eventually they pulled away, both theirs eyes red and puffy. “I don’t want you to fight Ford about it, alright.”

Dipper looked away, “I wasn’t gonna…” his cheeks turned slightly red having been caught.

Stan chuckled, “sure you weren’t, now go back to bed, we have to be up in a few hours if we want to drop your sister off on time.”

Dippers lips pursed, the thought of being separated from his sister making with stomach churn. His mind raced with ideas, plans and schemes. Great uncle ford’s words echoed in the back of his mind but all dipper could think was; what did greatness matter if it meant doing it alone and losing his family? He looked up seeing as Stan’s tired eyes scanned his room, his eyes dark underneath almost sunken. Perhaps it was lighting or the fact that it was midnight and the young boy could feel the exhaustion weighing down on him but for once dipper really looked at his Grunkle.

He looked older than Ford, age being unkind to him, or perhaps it was life. Would like be unkind once more?

Determination set in, he hugged Stan once more, throwing him off balance, “it’s gonna be alright grunkle Stan.”

“Dipper…” Stan said warningly.

“Can you trust me?,” dipper continued, feeling stan freeze momentarily, “please?”

A beat passed before Stan nodded.

With that done, he pulled away smiling before leaving the room to the basement. He had some demands to be heard.

(Aka an au/prompt where ford and dipper managed to seal the rift and dipper accepted the apprenticeship thinking it meant staying here with both Ford and Stan until he realized that Stan was leaving)

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #gravity falls au #stanley pines angst #mabel pines #stan pines #dipper pines #bill cipher #ford pines #angst #what are his demands you may ask #1) Stanley has to stay in the shack #maybe he can close the mystery shack temporarily as it is their only form of income but he refuses to let his grunkle become homeless #again #2) Mabel had to stay #he’s not sure why he didn’t think of it before but if Mabel stayed they’re get to grow up together and live in the town the love and cherish #not to mention we how things were at home he’d rather not have Mabel have to go through that alone #3) ford and Stan have to talk it out #honestly he should’ve given Mabel the benefit of the doubt when she wanted them to hug it out #perhaps they really did need to speak about their past to move past it #hehe get it?#(also only reason Stanley agreed to letting dipper help dipper asked him to trust him and if he’s learned anything #it’s that he needs to trust his family more; so he does)#gravity falls prompt

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yes-no-maybe-soo · 7 hours ago

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Thank you for the tag @carmelves and @terriblesoup 🫶🏻

currently reading: Tears on a Withered Flower by Gae-nim. Highly recommend if you're okay with some heavier topics/borderline dark romance!

last song: Barricades by Sawano Hiroyuki. Been relistening to the whole AOT soundtrack recently and there's not a single bad track in it. Definitely the best in all of anime imo. Just in case you've never heard it, here's a link to the AOT suite by the composer with some of the bangers in it :) you won't regret listening to it I promise

last film: KPop Demon Hunters (rewatch). So good!

last series: Vinland Saga! Nearly halfway through my second watch and it's just as goated as I remember! For sure in my personal top 5 if not top 3 Anime

sweet/savory/salty: On my period rn so ofc I'm gonna go sweet all the way (chocolate and ice cream are life savers T T)

tea or coffee: I don't drink either dhdjfj I really want to like tea but so far it's just never hit the spot for me

working on: Not being a disaster on two legs. (It's going better)

tagging with no pressure: @sylustful @sylus-shivanika @last-but-not-the-least @humanjarvis @aesztik ♡

— TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW MORE ! thank youuu @fayerie and @lily-bisque for the tags <33

currently reading: (re)reading yellowface by r.f kuang last song: still into you by paramore (great for playing val let me tell uuuu) last film: how to train your dragon last series: true beauty (ep 11 now) sweet/savory/salty: savoury tea or coffee: tea working on: fics (oh boy) + healthy sleep schedule

no pressure tags! <3 - @oporotheca @riveredmoon @elswhore @goonforgeto @lafleurperdue and anyone else who wants to do it !!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

Text

Adore You 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor Odinson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Thor and Luna.

Summary: good intentions often lead to bad ideas.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Thor sits in the back of the car. It's too small for him and he hunches over as he keeps a hand on Luna's arm. She's curled up on the seat, her shoulders and head in his lap.

Loki turns and she rocks, murmuring in her sleep. Is she dreaming or in pain?

"You've got to be careful." Thor hisses.

"If only you took your own advice." Loki sneers.

"Brother," Thor sniffs. "Please, I care for her. I only... Acted thoughtlessly."

"As always," Loki snickers.

Thor quiets. He already knows he's in trouble. The way Jensen rushed out and the tension gnawing away at him. Loki's jeering

Everyone thinks he's stupid or crazy but he's not. He just wants her to be comfortable and right now, she can't be. He hopes they have somewhere she can be. He should. He should've have thought this out.

"I'm sorry," he sniffs and pinches his nose. "Really, I didn't mean to."

"Are you... Crying?" Loki scoffs.

"No," Thor meets his green eyes in the rear view mirror. "I just feel horrid and you're being mean."

"I'm being honest. What would you've done if we could not race to save you, brother? Either you'd be arrested or... I hate to imagine." Loki clucks. "Poor woman seems to have enough troubles."

Thor's chest hurts. He looks down and pets her shoulder. "I really am sorry, Luna." He whispers. "I'll make it better."

Loki sighs and keeps driving. He speeds along the dirt road and a dark structure rises in the distance. There's some lights speckled in the farmhouse. They grow as they get nearer.

Loki pulls in by the barn and waits. Thor looks around. "This is Turner's place? Where..."

"Suppose she can sleep in the barn," Loki chortles.

"You are cruel," Thor rocks Luna, comforting himself more than her unconscious form.

A figure emerged from the dark. Loki rolls down the window. Peter leans down.

"We got something ready." Peter says. "We gotta be quick."

Loki nods and looks back at Thor sighs. Peter opens the back door and grabs Luna's ankles.

"Be gentle," Thor warns. "Brother, can you get her walker?"

"Walker?" Peter utters but doesn't comment further.

Another pang stabs Thor. He shifts across the seat as they balance the brittle woman between them.

They get her out and Thor lets her lead the way. Past the barn, soles crunching, into the night. They stop and Peter stomps on something metallic. The thunk makes Thor flinch.

The hatch lifts from inside. A light blooms out round Sy as he pushes the door all the way back. He retreats down the steep stairs and Peter angles around after him. Thor frowns.

“What is this?”

“What we got,” Peter tuts. “Look, we’re gonna make it better. We weren’t ready.”

“Yes, I know. Sorry.” Thor drawls grimly.

He follows as Luna hangs between them. As they descend, he feels his soul doing the same. This isn't what he wanted. Not for Luna. Not for either of them.

The walls are barren and they pass several doors before they stop at one. Sy looks glum as he fumbles with a key and opens it up. Peter quickly move to get inside.

The wheels of the Walker bounce down the hall behind them. Loki grumbles to himself. As they enter, Thor sees another woman. She's on a mattress on the floor. Her arms are crossed as she leans against the wall.

She opens one eye then the other. Her expression blazes to fury.

"What in the--" the woman hops off the mattress. "What are you sickos up to?"

As she lunges forward, Syverson squeezes by the men and catches her. She scratches his face where there's already another set of marks. He grunts and hugs her tight, keeping her from doing it again.

"Gem, please, we're helping--" Syverson coaxes.

"Help? You are idiots." She growls.

Thor and Peter lay Luna on the mattress. She's limp but breathing. Loki enters, rolling the walker carerlessly. He shoves it into the corner.

"Are you fucked? For real. A walker--" the other woman, Gem, snarls. "She's.... She's.... And you...."

"Should we get pills for this one then?" Loki asks.

Gem turns her burning glare on Loki. "Who the fuck is this? And... How many are there of you fuck heads?"

"Now, sugar, that's not very nice."

"Nice? You're going to talk to me about nice?" She snarls. She wriggles in Syverson's grasp until she's panting. Her eyes drift over to Luna as Thor tries to make her comfortable.

"Can we get more pillows?" Thor asks.

"Ugh, let go of me, you lump." Gem sneers. "Let me help her."

"I got her--" Thor begins.

"No, you don't. Leave her alone. Sy," she looks up at the burly man. "Promise. I want to make sure she's okay."

He hesitates but lets her go. She shoves him and turns away. She drops to her knees on the mattress and crawls over to Luna. She bats Thor away.

"None of you dumbasses are touching her. Are you deluded?" She pets her shoulder.

Thor stands, heartbroken. He's not a monster.

"Take good care of her," he utters.

Gem scoffs and shifts Luna closer. "It's okay. You're not alone," she cooes softly to the sedated woman.

Thor backs up and drags his feet to the door. The other men retreat. Loki snickers as he leads them out into the hallway. They shut the door and stand in silence.

"We're here watching them for the night," Peter says. "Jensen has a friend taking care of making sure no one comes looking. Cole said he called the guy who was helping him with this place..."

"It's a prison," Thor leans on the wall, weak.

"It's not much right now, but we can make it better." Peter declares. "They'll all have their own space. We can make sure they have everything they need and want."

"I don't know," Thor murmurs.

"A realisation you should've has much earlier," Loki reproaches.

Thor clutches his head. "I was... Stupid. I am." He snivels. "I only wanted to help her. She has no one."

"Look, buddy," Peter nudges him. "It's not that bad. I'll get some pillows from Cole and we'll make sure she's okay. I'm sure one of us knows a doctor."

Thor lifts his head. "Can I stay too? I don't want to go."

"Sure, pal," Peter smiles. "We might need you."

"I for one am going to go home and get some sleep," Loki proclaims. "Best of luck to you all."

#series #au #marvel #mcu #drabble #avengers #thor #dark Thor #dark!thor #Thor x reader #adore you #watchers anonymous

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darlingdaisyfarm · 7 hours ago

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forever will know that Stanley lost his virginity during his homeless years, is there a chance you could write about that? maybe reader being his first and Stanley being a little inexperienced but so shocked by how good it feels🫣 maybe reader being his girlfriend too cause i don’t really like the idea of one night stands 😪

oh yeah, i feel so fucking bad for Stan when he got homeless. sometimes reading people’s hcs about mullet Stan or seeing some fics where he had to do really bad things for food or some money makes me feel so much empathy for him. more than anything, knowing that on thisisnotawebsite.com there was info about Stanley stripping down for edible flour like... i think this guy went through so much.

and as for one night stands, yeah, i think Stan probably had lots of them during his life. but ofc i think it would be much better and SAFER for him to have his first time with someone he loves, someone he’s in a relationship with, who won’t make him feel used / stupid or like he owes them something after.

nsfw

Stan’s first time with you would be slower than either of you expected. like, he’d talk a big game AT FIRST but the second things actually get intimate, there’s stillness that falls over him.

of course he’d be so nervous, after all he’s with you, his partner he loves so deeply so obviously he wants to do everything right, even if he doesn’t know what that is. Stan is cracking jokes. trying to play it cool even though he’s so red in the ears. “i mean hey, how hard can it be?” and then completely melts the second your hand’s on his thigh. he didn’t think it’d feel like this

he’d fumble. he’d try to be so smooth and say something dirty and then immediately regret it because it came out wrong and he’s already blushing and stammering and pulling away like “shit— sorry, sorry—“ and you’d have to grab his face to kiss him quiet and remind him that it’s you, everything is okay and you love him. you’re not going anywhere.

you’d have to take your time with him at first. despite his cockiness, hed be unsure where to put his hands, so you’d lean in and kiss him slowly, his lips first, then down his neck, until he starts to melt under you, whimpering, while your hand strokes his cock gently, reassuring him it’s safe here with you.

+ you have to make him understand you feel the same, that you enjoy it too, but when he'll realise you mean it, that you’re touching him and guiding him, praising him, once he’s inside you and it ACTUALLY feels good because of the foreplay that lasted almost an hour, it's so much better than he even knew it could feel, he gets so speechless which is not his usual state knowing how much he likes to open his mouth. “holy shit. . . is this what it’s really like?” it makes him tear up a little, because he didn’t know what it could feel like, being wanted.

he'd be shocked at how tender it is, how wholesome you make him feel, when kissing all over his face. how he wants to go slow, even though he’s burning up inside. he’d whisper dumb things “you’re so soft”, “is it supposed to feel this good?”, “shit, baby just like that, don’t stop”

and god, once he starts getting into it, he’d become obsessed with making you feel good, like insanely focused. in my opinion, Stan’s the kind of guy who’d be embarrassingly determined to make you cum first, even a little desperate about it. whispering things like “you’re gonna finish before me, got it?” trying so hard to make it happen.

he wants to make you feel good, clumsy at first but so determined. touching and kissing you, asking questions, checking in, holding your hand the whole time, surprising himself how he is capable of such tenderness. probably moaning way too loud and getting embarrassed about it until you tell him it’s hot, and then he won’t stop.

100% he’d finish embarrassingly fast and be so apologetic about it too, but you just have to kiss him after, rub your nose against his and tousle his sweat-soaked locks to make him laugh.

and then he’d get cocky, of course, he will be so proud of himself that he got such a wonderful partner like you, that it was with YOU that he had his first sex “oh baby you still with me? round two, okay? i think i’m gettin’ the hang of this.” smirking while his face is still flushed to his ears. “lemme make it up to ya”

idk i just think his first time should be soft and loved. my boy deserves that <3

#answered asks #stan pines #stan pines x reader #gravity falls x you #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x you

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logan-fields-official · 2 days ago

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Hey! Do you think it's possible to write a SBG main six (separate) with a reader who can and will appear at any moment without warning? Like, reader has very soft and quiet footsteps and is quiet in general so they often spook or startle people whenever they just suddenly appear and either get accidentally smacked by one of the main six cause of it? It can be either romantic or platonic! ☺️

Hi!!!! Yes I can!!!

SBG Main Six x Reader that appears out of nowhere

Ashlyn:

Not gonna lie you scare the absolute shit out of her every time. She hates it she hates it so much. Ashlyn is probably use to knowing when people are at least heading towards her because of her sensitive hearing and she seems like she’d be very observant on her surroundings and all that.

Now Ashlyn has probably at least almost hit you every single time you randomly appear. And holy crap I hope your good at dodging because I swear her kick will take your head off. Like she went straight for the kill. And if you got a dong better protect it because that will be the first place she goes to kick.

This is how it went though. Everyone was going over some new plans for the phantom dimension and well you went off to grab some drinks for everyone which Ashlyn didn’t pay much mind to. You had managed to give everyone a drink without Ashlyn nothing you.

Now you were just standing next to Ashlyn to give her a drink. ‘Hey Ash I got-‘ THUNCK she kicked you straight in the side and it fucking hurt. You immediately hit the floor groaning. She just kind of stares at you for a moment before asking if your okay while the group just stares glad that they were not in your place.

“Oh… uh… are you okay?… how do you feel?” You in response groan and say ‘like I need to start wearing bells or something so I don’t scare you again…' Ashlyn just shrugs slightly “good idea? Until it gets annoying.” You just hold her drink up ‘I hope this explodes in your face…’ Ashlyn takes the drink and stares at you “no you don’t.”

Aiden:

So now Aiden deems me as the kind of person that's hard to scare because he's always scaring people so he expects people to attempt to scare him back. He's honestly the reason you scare him anyways. Like he probably scared you one to many times and for revenge you started trying to scare him and now it's a scare war.

You don't scare him very much or at least he doesn't show that you scared him as he's just smiling and laughing at you. Until one day you had forced Ben into helping you scare Aiden. Ben texted you when Aiden was close to home and you quickly came over and he let you in. Immediately bolting to Aidens room and staying out of view of the door.

You scared him exactly how I've seen the girlfriends on tiktok do it. They paint their face black wear black and hide in the dark. Aiden gets home a minute later and heads up to his room. Aiden leaves the lights off and just plops down onto his bed. You take this as your chance and slowly quietly creep closer.

You wait patiently for the right moment and when Aiden started to relax you open you eyes and smile "Aiden?"... he pauses and just assumes it was his mom/dad calling him because well he didn't know you were there. He was about to speak and glances towards you... his mind just went phantom... THUMP...

He didn't punch you but he 100% tackled you and you both just pause... until you squirm and tell him its you. He just snorts softly acting like you didn't just scare the crap out of him and goes... "really? If you wanted to scare me that bad just dress up as a ceiling. It'd be horrifying."

Ben:

Okay now Ben yeah you 100% scare him, but he'd also calm down quickly from it and you don't scare him every time as Aiden 100% tries to scare him a lot so he's pretty use to it. Now Ben does give off the vibes of someone who swings when someone randomly appears and scares him. He tries not to, but like instinct.

Now like normal you and the group are all hanging out just at Aidens house in the pool. You had headed for some reason... drink, snack, towel, just sit in the sun for a bit? Who knows? Ben was was about to jump in the pool because well why not?

And you just so happen to walk up beside him without him hearing... he with no hesitation throw his hand out and knocked the crap out of you. And straight into the water... hard. You ended up banging your head on the floor and you most likely from one of Ben's hits dazzed as fuck.

Lucky for you though the were well literally right there and Tyler immediately snags you back up to the surface and held you up. Safe to say you were not allowed in the pool for a little and probably had a little concussion.

Ben on the other hand was freaking the fuck out... he just hit you... like really really hit you and you almost drowned because of it. So Aiden went off to comfort him.. and no matter how many times your fine and you don't blame him he doesn't forgive himself for a long time.

Logan:

Another one you scare the absolute shit out of. Remember when Aiden scared the shit out of Logan. Yeah that’s it that’s exactly how he reacts every time. Logan can and will scream and yelp whenever you randomly pop up next to him. Logan is another one that’s use to being observant on his surroundings. Well until someone hides to scare him.

Logan is not the type of person to attempt to hit someone when they scare him, but when he was bullied by Barron he would get scared a lot more and actually look like he’s about to have an anxiety attack when you randomly pop up. You wouldn’t scare him on purpose to often just because of how intense his reactions are, but you also just can’t help yourself sometimes.

So when he hit you by accident it wasn't because you appeared out of no where and scared him half to death it's because he literally didn't know you were there. Logan was just telling the group a random story and he seemed really excited about it talking really fast and with his hands. You had decided to grab something and excused yourself from the group.

About 5 minutes later you were on your way back and you had to walk past Logan to get to your spot... and as soon as you went to walk past him SMACK... Logan immediately paused and just snapped his head towards you staring for a second before asking if you okay. He feels so bad, but he's also really confused like wtf when did you get there?

Taylor:

Taylor's another one that you don't scare to bad... at least not usually... like Tyler if you scare her and she's in a bad mood you might wanna duck real quick... cause it's either a fist or a shoe heading for your head. Though most of the time it's just her laughing nervously and stating that you did indeed scare her.

Now when Taylor ended up hitting you actually not by accident it was because you decided to follow in Aidens lead and chase her around like a phantom you were laughing your ass off... her not so much. Taylor was yelling at you to stop and Tyler got tired at you scaring his sister so he yelled at you to stop or he's gonna throw something at you.

And we'll you didn't stop so Taylor attempted the same threat "STOP STOP IM GONNA THROW MY FLASHLIGHT AT YOU... IM SERIOUS!" And when you don't even stop at her threat she grabs the flashlight and pretty gently but still hard enough for you to feel a slight sting throws the flashlight at you.

Aiden immediately starts laughing and saying that you were asking for it. Meanwhile Taylor just let's out a sigh of relief as you stop chasing leaving you to get scolded by Tyler and Ashlyn... Tyler for scaring Taylor and making her waste her energy and Ashlyn for goofing off and making a lot of noise while in the phantom realm.

Tyler:

Tyler likes to try and act like you randomly appearing doesn't scare him, but it 100% does. He hates it when you sneak up on him whether it's on purpose or not. Though I wouldn't scare him much because he goes from scared to pissed real quick. Like the amount of times he's chased you around and thrown stuff at you is actually sad.

Now to be honest I feel like Tyler would deadass hit you on purpose when you scare him. He doesn't hit you hard because well he doesn't wanna hurt you... sometimes, but he's hoping you'll learn to call out before you appear. He just doesn't like being scared.

You were over at house hanging out with Taylor not that he knew that because he was out on a run. When he got back he expected it to be just Taylor and his mom home. Thanks to you being very quiet on your feet he didn't seem to notice you at all.

Well... until he was talking to his sister and mom on what they should do for dinner

Sorry this took so long! I don't know what happened. I just had like a massive writers block moment. I pulled this up to write and just couldn't think of anything.

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