#morgan.txt

[ufofriend]

Rotating an image of Armand around in my brain.

[earth-b0y]

💭 for Heretic

[CW: Manipulation, Stockholm syndrome]

[Word count: ~500]

The weather was warm that morning, and the sky was a calm, cloudless blue that invited adventurous play under the sun. But advancing towards the window, the weight around your throat provided a warning beep. You step away.

"Min, come sit. It's time for you to eat," Morgan's voice commanded smoothly from the kitchen. You left the living room and obeyed, sitting at the dining table.

The scent of coffee and the sounds of the burbling machine fill the air, intermingling with the smell of the cooked eggs, ham, and buttered sourdough toast that sat on your plate. Morgan approaches with a coffee cup in his hand and a smile on his face, and he ruffles your hair. His hand lingers a moment too long. When you don't duck away or swat his hand or so much as cast him an angered glare, his smile turns a touch more self-satisfied.

"Good..." he murmurs. "You see? This is nice. Isn't it so much better when we get along like this, little one? Keep being good, and it can be like this every day. I'll take care of you, nurture you, and keep you fed, and in return, you only need to do what I ask. Simple, yes?"

"... Yeah..." you agree. It's easier than saying no. You take a bite of the eggs. They aren't too salty, and they aren't too bland. He cooked them in the same pan as the ham, so they soaked up the extra flavour nicely.

"Good boy. I knew you would understand eventually. Now... It's Monday, so you know what that means."

Your head drifts up, and you meet his eyes. "... You have to go to work?"

"That's right. There's leftover stew in the fridge. Do you think you can manage to heat it up yourself for lunch, or should I return between classes to do it for you?"

The stove is a little scary for you, but the man in front of you is scarier. A longer break from him is welcome, so you're willing to pay the price. "Mhm... I got it. Thank you."

Morgan chuckles softly, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. "Getting more confident in the kitchen, are you? Understood. Have a good day, sweet thing. And don't get into any trouble while I'm gone. You know I'd hate to have to punish you, hm?"

"Y-yeah... I'll be good."

He searches your face for a lie, but finding only worn down compliance, he nods, satisfied. He turns around and walks down the hall, his lab coat trailing behind him as he leaves for work. You stare at the door after it shuts behind him. You feel a pang of regret. You want him to come back. Why do you want him to come back?

[notmyvalentine]

morgan ofthedevil at the work function for today

[ufofriend]

Vinyl haul today, waiting to listen until my gf is back from work (ft. bronze fish from the Japanese vintage warehouse sale) #myfish

[ufofriend]

Just played my When the Pawn record for the first time in a while and discovered that at the very very end of side B, there is a scratch. So at the end of I Know, the final song on the album, the record just keeps making its little crackly noises but the needle never reaches the center… it’s really the most perfect thing I love it

[ufofriend]

I wish I had an outdoor space at my current apartment building :( I miss being able to sit on grass and be outside so badly :((

[ufofriend]

Farting at the Wednesday show #carneasada

[ufofriend]