#an unrealistic theory this one time

[project-sekai-facts]

have u ever shared ur thoughts on why vbs started with three virtual singers instead of two?

i mean well i think it's mostly just a case of there being 6 vsingers, 5 units and Niigo not getting a starter for plot reasons, but also i think the specific selection of MEIKO and Len makes a lot of sense for why VBS got the two.

Street SEKAI MEIKO doesn't really do a whole lot. She never really performs with the others and usually just works at the cafe. She's the vsinger equivalent to Ken, she's a mentor to the kids but doesn't join in with them. But obviously, VBS needed a starter to join in with their performances, so you've got Len leftover and his personality meshes well with the members.

Actually I think it's funny that technically VBS started with 4 since Rin was there the whole time and is said to have existed before the main story (and is mentioned in said story and actually appears in the vsinger one). 3 is a bit much to count as their unit specific vsingers though, and Rin was already assigned to MMJ so it makes sense she doesn't count as one of their main vsingers. Plus she's only really there so Len could have a partner.

And if you want to get really technical on it then they started with 6 because KAITO and Luka had been there the entire time but fucked off somewhere else for a bit.

I have two theories. One of them (the far more realistic one) is that all of the vsingers being there from the start is to set up a sort of team as VBS eventually did at the end of their first arc. The other (grasping at straws) one is that the SEKAI was influenced by more than just VBS, but VBS are the ones who can access it. I talked about it more back in July. It's a bit ridiculous, but we know SEKAI take a while to form, we know Street SEKAI has been around for a while, and also there's the fact that some of the vsingers take influence from RADder, which is certainly something alright, especially considering that when the SEKAI manifested Toya didn't know anyone other than Ken and Kohane knew none of them. You could just say that Akito and An have more influence on the SEKAI which is arguably true but sometimes meta can be fun too.

#asks #also VBS npcs have like significantly more plot relevance than any others. which yknow it's all about that idea of community but let me hav #an unrealistic theory this one time #mod talks #(i mentioned this a long time ago but for anyone who's new i'm a vbs main if it wasn't already obvious)

[cheswirls]

i don't keep up w spy x family regularly so i end up reading ~10 chapters all at once which i think is a good thing bc if i had to wait week to week during some of these intense arcs i would go insane

#sxf #86 was extremely good #the med student part of me is v concerned over the fact that loid #chose to disguise his injury instead of getting first aid for his literal hole-in-arm gsw #seeing his arm under running water from the shower nearly gave me hives #but ik this story is so unrealistic comedy-esque so it's fine he's fine he won't lose blood like that #side note i wonder if the fake skin was compressing the gsw in lieu of an actual bandage... #did they not have time to stitch it in the car? how did they bandage and sling nightfall #but do nothing for loid if not on his request bc??? #that is my ongoing theory (compression sleeve) to preserve my sanity #anyway i do think i read the beginning of red circus week to week but not the last half i learned my lesson #i couldn't even imagine having breaks during this arc... i think 86 was a good wrapup too #if there's 1 more to finish it off then i can wait. no cliffhanger from this one rly

[tardis--dreams]

I am once again signing up for way too many seminars knowing fully well I've never managed more than 27 points since starting university and yet aiming for 50

#someone come and slap me please #also add 60 hours of work each month #so if we go by the theory that one point is one hour per week #(which is not the case because a 4 point seminar already has 4 hours of Presence time #PLUS the time you need to spend on studying and reading etc) #that'd be 65 hours per week #which is roughly 10 hours per day #which is something i have not managed to do outside of actual structured jobs #where i had to be present and work shifts #this is unrealistic #but if feel like i need to make up for the points i lost last semester #(i got a total of 9 woooowww #because i just lost all structure and motivation and spent all my time depressed in bed #but still #i need to do better #and it's not like other people don't manage twice of the points I'm aiming for #i know people who do 70 each semester #i feel so bad lmao #ok ill shut up now #i hate university

[esoteric-goblin]

on worldbuilding, and what people think is going on

there is one facet of fantasy worldbuilding that is, to me, the most interesting and essential but i don't see it come up in worldbuilding guides or writing prompts or anything, and that is the question of:

what do the inhabitants of your world believe about how the world works, and how are they wrong? a lot of fantasy media will set up their cosmology, gods, magic systems, planar systems, concepts of the afterlife, &c., and proceed as though the inhabitants of the world know and understand them.

from someone whose entire academic career is focused on studying human culture in various regions and time periods, with a focus on belief systems (religion, occultism, mythology, folklore): that sort of worldbuilding is unrealistic and missing out on so much fun.

people are always seeking new understanding about how the world works, and they are mostly wrong. how many models of the solar system were proposed before we reached our current one? look at the long, turbulent history of medicine and our various bizarre models for understanding the human body and how to fix it. so many religions and occult/magical traditions arise from people disagreeing with or adapting various models of the world based on new ideas, methods, technologies. many of them are wrong, but all of them are interesting and reflect a lot about the culture, beliefs, values, and fears of the people creating/practising them.

there is so much more to the story of what people believe about the world than just what is true.

to be clear: i think it's fine and important for the author to have a coherent explanation for where magic comes from or who the gods are, so they can maintain consistency in their story. but they should also be asking what people in the world (especially different people, in different regions/nations and different times) think is happening when they do magic, or say a prayer, or practise medicine, or grieve their dead. it is a rich vein for conflict between individuals and nations alike when two models of the world disagree. it is fascinating how different magic systems might develop according to different underlying beliefs.

personally, i think it is the most fun to spawn many diverse models of the world, but give none of them the 'right' answer.

(bonus points if you also have a thriving academic system in the world with its own theory, research, and discourse between factions! as an academic, it is very fun to imagine fictional academic debate over the topics i'm worldbuilding. sometimes i will be working out details for some underlying mechanic of the world and start imagining the papers being written by scholars researching it)

#worldbuilding #world building #writing #creative writing #writeblr #on writing #fantasy worldbuilding

[drdemonprince]

The Barbie Movie is confused -- and it is confused on purpose, because it can't actually acknowledge the role that capitalism and white supremacy play in the patriarchal system that it wants to give itself credit for acknowledging. And so the film introduces patriarchy as a force with no agent or system behind it.

Ken, an oafish goof is able to find the concept of patriarchy and transmit it to the entirety of his society simply by learning about it and speaking about it to his fellow Kens. There is no use of force, no political organizing (notably, the Kens try to take over the political system after they have already taken hold of the culture), no real persuasion even -- simply by hearing about patriarchy the women in Barbieworld somehow become brainwashed by it.

This means we never have to really see the Kens as genuine antagonists, we can still laugh at their bizarrely crammed-together multiple dance numbers and forgive them when they, like the women, are freed of the patriarchy simply by women speaking about the fact that sexism exists. Both the origins of patriarchy and the solution to it is as simple as an individual person telling their story.

The CEOs that run Mattel in the Real World in the film are similarly cartoonish and devoid of real agency. They're even portrayed as generically interested in the idea of Barbie being inspiring to girls. The movie can't even acknowledge their profit motive, and it can't make any of the men running the company look too powerful or even too morally suspect -- but the film does still want to have Barbie encounter sexism in the real world and grapple with the harm "she" (the consumer product, and not the social forces and human beings that created her) has supposedly done.

In the Barbie Movie, patriarchy is a genie in a bottle, and no one is to blame - except maybe Barbie herself, since the movie spends a significant amount of time discussing how she is responsible for giving women unrealistic beauty standards.

And so Barbie is depicted as both sexism's victim and sexism's fault. She's dropped into a patriarchal world that the film acknowledges has a menacing, condescending quality -- but the film can't even have an underlying working theory of where this danger comes from, and who had the power to create this patriarchy in the first place, because that would require being critical of Mattel and capitalism.

And in the film, ultimately the real world with all its flaws and losses and injustices is still preferable to Barbieworld, because you get to have such depth of feeling and experience and you get a vagina, so how bad could really be? And hey, when you think about it, the Barbieworld is just an inversion of the real world, isn't it? A world with women in power is just reverse sexist, so it was justifiable for the Kens to want to take over, and what does it say that all things being equal Barbie still would prefer to leave behind her matriarchy and join the patriarchal capitalist world? That's the real world. Real world is struggle and sexism and loss and pain and capitalism and death and we must accept all of it but it's worth it..

It's not that I'm surprised the film's a clarion call for personal choice white feminism and consumer capitalism. I just expected the call to be a little more seductive or in any way coherent. I wanted to have frothy fun, and instead I was more horrified by the transparency of its manipulation than I was by even the most unsettling moments in Oppenheimer.

[aangell333]

Okay your Spencer smut might be the best I've ever read, could you maybe do one about Spencer absolutely manhandling reader and just like really rough sex. Idk maybe some jealousy or a bad case and he needs to take his anger out on you, just whatever you want.

And like just really rough with like edging and overstimulation and dacryphilia and just very very rough. And maybe some sweet aftercare or something like that

I'm in desperate need for Spencer to fuck me till I'm cum dumb :))

Thank you <33

oh

my god.

first off THANK YOU SWEETIE THATS TOO SWEET OF YOU!!

second off i’ve given the reader a thing I personally have where I kinda cum prematurely during sex 🫠 this means I get overstimulated really easily so I think it’ll pair with what you’re looking for :)

this is utter filth guys. also I KNOWWW some things are unrealistic but they’re hot so shove it.

so sorry this took so long and that the ending feels super rushed 😭

anyways enjoy!

you knew this was wrong.

hooking up with your coworker simply because this case was beating both your asses and sex wasn’t exactly presenting itself to you as a little pink box with a shiny ribbon on top.

the two of you had been going back and forth all day, snapping and jabbing at each other. theories were belittled and intellectuality degraded; everyone knew one of you was about to snap. they expected you to end up going through the dry wall or spencer out of the window.

they would never have expected to… explode in this way.

it was dirty. filthy. you both knew it.

and you both loved it.

he followed close behind you as you entered the hotel room and the door slammed behind him before his hands were all over you. he grabbed you by the upper arms, tugging you harshly into the wall. you hit it with a thud, your head bouncing off it.

you barely had time to get your surroundings before his hand was closing around your neck.

“do you get off on some sick power play to diminish me in front of everyone?” he hissed. “i’ve been doing this for years. you’ve been here for two seconds compared to my experience.”

“wow, prison sure did harden you up, huh. word from the team has it you were a little bitch before,” you could barely get your statement out before his hand was tightening, having you gasping for air as your airways closed up.

“shut the fuck up.” you would’ve snapped back, if you weren’t distracted by your buttons flying everywhere.

the two parts of the front of your now-ruined blouse were clutched in spencer’s hands. his face was the picture of rage, anger simmering in his gorgeous eyes and his lips pursed tightly.

“you asshole!”

“no. you need to be put in your place.”

you’d never been kissed with such ferocity. his lips smushed against yours, pressing them this way and that. it was messy, almost gross the way your tongues intertwined and saliva dripped. spencer pulled your hair from the crown of your head, harshly pulling your head back as his mouth immediately latched onto the column of your neck.

as he sucked and nipped, he pushed your blouse further off your shoulders the lower he went. your own fingers fumbled with his buttons, trying desperately to undo them. once your blouse was on the floor, he pulled away from you, throwing you onto the bed.

“dumb bitch can’t even undo some buttons?” he hissed, ripping your shoes off as you hastily unbuttoned your jeans.

“god, reid, shut up!” you wined as you squirmed your hips and pushed your jeans down.

“such a mouth on you.” he tutted patronisingly, rolling the sleeves of his half-buttoned-up shirt to his elbows and freeing his belt from his pant loops. “I ought to teach you a lesson.”

he chucked his belt onto the bed beside you before forcefully yanking your jeans off. he then grabbed your wrists in one hand, restraining you as he flipped you over. before you knew it, he was sat on the edge of the bed with you over his knee.

“reid!” you exclaimed as he folded his belt in half.

crack.

“ah!” your yelp sounded more like a moan, your ass stinging red.

the juxtaposition of spencer’s soothing hand and scrutinisingly-sweet voice overwhelmed your senses.

“aww, does the brat not know how to take her punishment with fucking dignity? this is what rude little girls get, you understand?” his tone boiled rage in you.

“fuck you.”

crack.

“ah!”

“count it.” he hissed.

“wha- what?”

crack.

“fucking count it!”

“one!”

“good girl.” his tone was condescending, as if he was talking to a misbehaving child trying to turn their behaviour around.

you counted every crack to your skin, your flesh burning as the belt came down on it. you eventually got to ten, your ass glowing red and cheeks tear-streaked. yet, by the time you got to ten, your pussy was soaked.

your hole oozed slick with every crack and caress that spencer administered to your cheeks. you whimpered in his lap, pressing your face into the comforter of the hotel bed.

“you dick.” you whimpered with a sniffle.

a smack to your hot rear had your back arching.

“i’ll show you dick.” spencer snarled.

he spread his legs, pushing you off of him and onto your knees between his. the stark contrast of your naked body and his fully clothed one was enough to have you grinding in your seat. spencer undid his flies and opened them, presenting his cock straining against his boxers to you.

he once again tangled his hand in your hair at the crown of your head before pulling you into his crotch. you let out a muffled whine, pushing on his thighs, but he held you still. you couldn’t move your face from his boxer shorts.

“lick.” he commanded, but you couldn’t hear him over your struggle. “I said, lick.”

it was degrading the way he had you lapping at his clothed cock like a damn dog. your tongue picked up bits of lint from the fabric of his boxers and the spot where his tip was leaking precum was damp and salty. it was disgusting. you couldn’t help but love it.

when your hands came up to the elastic of his boxers, he didn’t stop you from pulling them down. his cock stood up, taking your breath with it.

what he lacked slightly in girth, god damn did he make up for in length. he was huge, intimidating even.

“the fuck are you waiting for? what happened to the cock-hungry bitch licking my cock a second ago?” his words probed at something inside of you and you curled your hand around his cock, squeezing.

and god did you want to capture that breathy moan and head tilt that he released and keep it forever.

but his mood quickly shifted as his hands gripped your hair and shoved your face down onto his cock. gags, whimpers and tears left you as he hammered his cock into your throat, his pace relentless and bruising.

“god, this shut you up, huh? I should have you like this more often. bet you’d love it if I shut you up by shoving my cock into your mouth in the middle or the office, huh? show hotch and morgan what a slut you are for my cock. yeah? you want that attention?” he was mocking you! god knows what compelled you to hum and nod in agreement. “fucking whore. oh, look at you! fucking touching yourself?”

his cock was pulled out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting you to it. ignoring your coughs and splutters, he manoeuvred his leg between yours, angling it so his shin rubbed deliciously against your core.

“wha- what are you doing?” you asked him, voice slightly hoarse.

“if you wanna get off so bad, you can hump my leg like the bitch you are!” he laughed.

anger flooded you, your nails biting into his calf and a frown coming over your face.

“no.”

“oh!”

his leg jolting up to meet your core had you moaning loudly. and you couldn’t help yourself. you started chasing that feeling, hips working overtime as you fully humped dr spencer reid’s leg. that was still covered by his stupid pants!

“aww, aren’t you just a needy bitch?” his tone was condescending, mocking as he lazily stroked his cock like you were simply porn material. you shook your head, prompting him to begin bouncing his leg up to meet your core. “come on, tell me what a needy bitch you are.”

“I’m a needy bitch,” you whispered out.

you found your arms wrapping around his leg as you pressed your whole body to him, still humping him.

“louder.” he ordered.

“I’m a needy bitch!” your voice is pitchy and whiny, almost screaming when he begins rocking his leg up to meet your sensitive clit.

you didn’t have to hump for long before you found your core tightening and your breathing becoming more laboured. you whimpered out how close you were, causing spencer to pull his leg from under you. the loss of balance had you falling into his knee, face smushing against the bony structure.

“wha…” you whimpered sadly as spencer pouted down at you with faux-sympathy.

“aww, is the little bitch all sad she can’t cum?” he asked condescendingly, making you sit straight again.

you sat in front of him on your knees, looking up at him with an angry pout. deciding to take matters into your own hands and stop waiting for his every order, you crawled to turn yourself around, revealing your back to him.

“what are you doing, huh?” he murmured.

you didn’t say anything, only lifting your ass up and down a few times as if you were shaking your ass on a dick. you felt it jiggle, looking back at him with a smirk. his pupils were blown and his hand loose around his cock.

“pet…” he warned and you took your chances.

still on the floor, you fell forward and pushed your ass into the air as you manoeuvred yourself into the deepest arch. you whined loudly as you did so, exposing your gooey, drooling hole to him. where you were sat, a wet patch glistened and the thin string connected to the carpet and your hole snapped. you heard spencer sigh shakily and squirmed on the bed. the sound of a zipper going back up sounded, the rustling of a button returning back to its hole.

only that’s where you’re wrong. he wasn’t squirming, he was standing.

three long fingers pushed easily into your hole, making you scream out. he kneeled over you, almost mounting you as he fingerfucked you. he was relentless, curling and uncurling his fingers at an ungodly speed. your slick dripped down his hand, sprayed over his forearm with the force of his movements and squelched loudly.

“trying to tease me?” he draped his body over yours as he hissed in your ear.

you whined pathetically, hips pushing back to meet his hand. he didn’t stop and you felt your orgasm drawing closer.

“oh god! oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m close!” you yelled out, only for his fingers to remove from your body. “wha- reid!”

“aww, I know. it’s hard being teased, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone as condescending as ever. you whimpered as you felt your orgasm dissolve.

and he plunged his fingers back in your pussy, grinning and laughing when you screamed out and your eyes rolled back. his fingers sped up and up and up until they stopped again.

each time you got close, he would stop touching you all together. he knelt over you and laughed as you begged and babbled pathetically. he was practically mounting you, you hadn’t even realise he’d pulled his cock out.

“you wanna cum, baby?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded and babbled pathetically. “of course you do.”

it was that night that you realised, you’d never experienced true pleasure until you had spencer reid fucking you like a madman.

his pace was relentless, bruising and wild. his hips slammed against your already sore ass and his tip bullied your cervix. tears rolled down your face, making him laugh.

“my little toy looks so pretty when she cries! aw, what’s the matter, princess?” he cooed mockingly in your ear.

“feels- feels so- so good…” you could hardly speak, hardly form a thought. it was too much.

you were cumming before you knew it, coating his cock in your cream. he laughed mockingly at you, hand coming down to draw little circles on your clit. you screamed and spasmed, knees giving up on you as you fell to the floor. he held you up by your hips, almost completely suspending your lower half.

“can’t even hold yourself up.” he grunted.

with one arm wrapped around your middle and the other hand at your clit, he chased his own orgasm in a haze of blinding hot pleasure. yet, you were cumming again before he was, your squirt splashing out onto his legs.

“oh, sweetheart! squirting all over me?” he laughed delightedly. “what a good girl. fuck, baby, I’m- hah- I’m close. gonna come inside. gonna- ha-ah- fill you up- fuck- yeah- claim you-”

his seed spilled into you in thick, copious amounts. you felt him fill you, your tummy swelling a little with the amount he was pumping into you.

“thank you, doctor,” you whimpered out, feeling all hazy and fuzzy.

he was panting above you, head thrown back in exhaustion.

“good girl. my good girl,” he murmured breathlessly. “let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

you’d never been pampered as nicely as you were that night.

*~*~*

“ah! spencer! ah!” derek moaned at you, high pitched and over dramatic, as you place his coffee down on his borrowed desk.

you frowned, trying to keep a straight face.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’d rather you kept your sexual fantasies to yourself. I think that’s something you discuss with reid,” you sniped.

“I think you discusssd a lot with reid last night,” he smirked. “oh my god! just like that spencer!”

“someone clearly wasn’t paying attention. he likes it when I call him doctor.” you say, stalking away.

from his seat opposite derek, spencer grinned at him in a way that clearly said: “yeah. she’s mine.”

@wietske27

#x reader #smut #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #post prison spencer reid #post prison spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #post prison reid #post prison reid smut #post prison spencer smut #post prison spencer reid smut

[redstarwriting]

the clash | i. hey, ho! let’s go!

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 1.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie

a/n: it’s here 😎 no but fr, i proudly present a new series focusing on hobie brown, loml. i‘m trying to make it gn, so if you spot anything that needs fixing lemme know. i also did include a bit of a description of what you look like, but it’s mainly just to affirm the gothic spider-person look. and if you don’t like it, you can just pretend it isn’t there, my character designer brain just took a hold while explaining lol. enjoy y’all, there’s more where this came from 👀

now reading: i. hey, ho! let’s go!

next chapter: ii. time bomb

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In theory, the two of you should have been great friends. Best friends, even. He’s called Spider-Punk, and you’re called Spider-Goth, this alone made Miguel assume the two of you would get along better than all of the Peters. Unfortunately for Miguel, he was dead wrong. It was fine at first, a good introduction. “Spider-Punk, meet Spider-Goth,” Miguel says, motioning to the two of you. You simultaneously turn your heads towards him, “Don’t call me that.” You look at each other, seemingly sizing each other up after speaking the same words at the same time. In reality, the two of you were checking each other out, but no one needs to know that. “Fine. Hobie, meet (Y/n). (Y/n), meet Hobie,” Miguel says as Peter B. Parker hops next to him, excited to see the two of you interact. Your gaze first fell on his many piercings, which suited him very well. Almost as well as the spikes coming out of the shoulders of his tattered denim vest. “See somethin’ you like?” you hear his thick cockney accent, and you shrug. “The constant changing makes it difficult,” you say, causing him to shrug. “I hate consistency,” he says, staring you up and down. “I like the guitar,” you say, and he nods. “Everyone does.” You raise an eyebrow, and he takes in the way your heavy black eyeliner makes the expression look more exaggerated than it is. His eyes go down, taking in your outfit, which seems to be varying in different gothic styles, but overall is all black with silver studs, spikes, and charms sticking out everywhere. He notices the two of you share a liking for combat boots, and perhaps his favorite thing about you are the intricate and all black spider-web tattoos on your hands crawling their way up your arms. Hobie clicks his tongue. “Goth, eh?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem with you or something?”

“Feisty for a goth.”

“Instigative as all punks are.”

“What… is going on,’ Peter whispers to Miguel who shakes his head. “I thought they would be best friends?” Peter suggests as he places a binky in Mayday’s mouth. “I did too…” Miguel says, “Maybe this is just a way these types of alternative people talk?”

“Tal vez tengas razón… Hobie does love to be abrasive for no reason,” Miguel concludes, and Peter shrugs and they zone in on the two of you again. “...I don’t suppose there’s no reason we shouldn’t get along,” Hobie suggests, raising an eyebrow at you. “I agree. We probably think similar things… for the most part.”

“For the most part, huh?”

“Just that we have similar ideas, but most likely not the same,” you respond, and he crosses his arms, his guitar moving loosely behind his back. “Opinions on anarchy. Go.”

“It’s the ideal society—”

“Good start—”

“But completely unrealistic.”

“Excuse me?” Hobie looks at you with a glowering expression. “Humans are inherently assholes. Selfish, shitty, assholes. As amazing as it would be to have anarchy running rampant,” you shrug, “It’s unlikely it will ever happen.”

“You can’t actually believe that,” Hobie says, exasperated, “I mean you actually think that we can’t achieve it? You get enough people angry, and they rebel, they push for anarchy. I’ve seen it happen; I’ve led a rebellion.” You roll your eyes. “And do you live in a perfect anarchical society now?”

“Not yet, but we’re gettin’ there,” he clenches his teeth, and you sigh. “I admire your blatant idiocy disguised as an ambitious dream,” you say, and he huffs. “Would you just talk like a normal fuckin’ person and stop usin’ these dumbass words and shitty poetic language?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, or are you as deaf as your ideologies?” This time you scoff. “I don’t have the time to be berated by someone who lives in their own delusions to try and feel the slightest bit less angry at the world for giving him the shitty cards he was dealt.”

“And I don’t have time to listen to the rubbish ramblings of a miserable twat who digs desperately into their black hole of a heart to try and feel somethin’ when the truth is they don’t even know what they stand for,” he fires back. You glare at him. He glares at you. As if on cue you both flip each other off before you web away. Peter’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Well, that went horribly!”

Miguel punches him on the shoulder, resulting in a soft ‘ow’ and a tiny angry noise from Mayday. “What the hell was that Hobart?” Miguel nearly yells and Hobie snaps his head towards him. “Don’t call me that, neither! They don’t get it. It’s not enough to want to make a difference in the world. You need to take action. Goths love to sit on the sidelines and lament instead of playing the offensive,” Hobie explains, a deep frown on his face, “Watch out for them. They might not be able to do what it takes when it counts.” Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hobie, you’re supposed to show them around—”

“No, fuck that. I’m not goin’ anywhere near that gothic monstrosity,” Hobie says shaking his head in defiance. “We made a deal. You would show all the younger spider—”

“Yeah, well you can shove that deal up your fuckin’ ass, mate, I’m not doin’ shit for them!”

“Okay, okay, calm down there, man. Why don’t you just ask Gwen to help you? Maybe Miles and Pavitr too? That way you fulfill your promise, 'cause I know promises are important to you, and you won’t have to talk to them!” Peter reasons and Hobie looks over at him. He furrows his eyebrows. That would help the situation. And maybe he’d be able to help you see just how garbage your take was with Gwen on his side. “Fine. But I’m not doin’ it cause I need help, and I’m not doin’ it because you told me to. I’m doin’ it cause it’s the last thing that they’d want,” Hobie says, pointing at Peter while saying it, flipping Miguel off, and then webbing away. Peter looks at Miguel who is clenching his fists… and his jaw. “You seem stressed, but don’t worry about it. Not all of us need to like each other, I mean there’s so many there’s no possible way we all could and look at you, you hate Miles even though he’s awesome and—”

“Shut. Up. Peter,” Miguel growls, stalking away while mumbling various things in Spanish. Peter looks down at Mayday. “Tough crowd,” he says as she giggles up at him.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom​ @weyrrii* 

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

[uriekukistan]

JJK 261 ANALYSIS: What happened, how, why Yuuta made the choice he did, and a discussion of tragedy & major themes of JJK

MAJOR spoilers below the cut so please read at your risk.

i wanted to dissect what happened a bit, and address a few points i saw floating around since the leaks dropped. of course, these are all my interpretations, so feel free to disagree, i just had a lot of thoughts floating around that i wanted to put out for discussion.

I. Gojo was never coming back

first of all, i don't know how you guys expected him to survive bisection. i said this earlier in the day as my justification for why i didn't think gojo was coming back, prior to leaks, and i don't think i can say it any better now.

and this is just my interpretation of reverse curse technique, but if anything, yuuta in this chapter supports my theory. in the scene where he's on shoko's table and arata nitta says that he's used rct to keep the wounds from getting worse, but it might be too late for yuuta to recover. in that case, gojo wasn't coming back from being sliced in half. it's just not possible.

additionally, and this is another thing that i've said for a long time. he says right in episode 6 (i forgot the chapter) that his dream is to reset the jujutsu world raise up a generation of strong students that work together. that is why he became a teacher. this very clearly comes from his relationship with suguru, and it's one of gojo's clearest motivations from the beginning.

the problem is, in order to achieve this, he has to die. so long as satoru gojo is alive, he will have to carry the burden of being the strongest alone. his students won't have to work together, because gojo will just take care of everything. this is already in the works, with how many people have come together to stand against sukuna. if gojo lived and defeated sukuna on his own, this wouldn't have happened, and bringing him back would, again, reduce the need for his students work together.

unfortunately, gojo has been doomed by the narrative from the start, and his primary goal as a character basically requires his death to be realized in its entirety.

II. They're not heroes, they're jujutsu sorcerers.

yeah, i'm stealing megumi's line because it's true. he literally said it twice for a reason, and then yuuta said a repackaged version of it in this chapter ("we're about to fight history's strongest jujutsu sorcerer. if we can win by throwing away our humanity, we shouldn't even be arguing about this").

trust, all the characters are well aware of the ethical issues with taking gojo's body after he's dead, both with what it means for gojo, and with what it means for yuuta. but this isn't a story about heroism, this isn't a story about the power of friendship. if it was, yuuji would have saved junpei all the way back at the beginning of the series. it was pretty clear from the start that this wasn't going to be the typical shounen manga like that.

in fact, expecting it to be is unrealistic. it's unrealistic in real life too, if i'm being so honest. everyone wants to think they'd take the moral high road in this type of situation, but the reality is, when you're fighting tooth and nail against an opponent that is fighting dirty, you have to fight dirty too if you want to win, and i think that's what yuuta is trying to point out in this chapter.

this happens in real life wars which im not gonna get into examples because i dont want to start that kind of discourse, but like...it's so great to be idealistic and hope that virtue will triumph simply because it is virtuous, but i think if you take a look around, you'll realize it's true that good people do not get what they deserve simply because they're good (that's so megumi of me to say...). or if you think of it like a board game, if a player is cheating, it is infinitely harder to win without cheating yourself.

maybe this is a bit pessimistic of me to say, but you will not win a dirty fight without getting dirty yourself, and i think it's pretty clear that sukuna fights dirty.

additionally, it's shitty to see gojo be weaponized, and i understand that, but it plays into the themes about strength in jjk, which i will get into.

III. This was not an "ass pull."

i don't really have much to say to this. did you think yuuta wouldn't take kenjaku's technique? plus, kenjaku being eaten by rika is probably the only surefire way to ensure that they're dead and won't just hop to another body. i've already said why gojo wouldn't come back, but it makes sense that if yuuta were to copy kenjaku's technique, who else would he body hop into, if not gojo? there's already narrative evidence to support this action, from the guidelines of yuuta's technique, kenjaku's technique, and gojo's technique, to the character of yuuta okkotsu, which i want to do an analysis in a separate post for him, so i won't get into that right now.

idk...to me, all the threads connect, plus i felt like yuuta's return was foreshadowed pretty heavily in 259 & 260, with the mention of yuuta's plan that yuuji couldn't know, and then on the last page of 260, the comparison of sukuna and yuuta, so for me, i always thought that it was not actually gojo, but yuuta at the end of 260.

IV. Themes of JJK: The burden of being "the strongest," or even just strong

even many jjk fans see gojo as "the strongest," and nothing more, doing exactly what the narrative sets up as one of the chief problems of jjk. a lot of gojo's actions are spurred on by the burden he feels from being the strongest modern sorcerer. his entire character is built around this problem of the responsibility and burden that falls on someone who's considered to be "the best" at anything.

in fact, this is also a driving point for geto too, and the conflicts geto and gojo come into with each other, as well as geto's inevitable fall from grace. it all comes from this issue that's at the core of jujutsu society. gojo recognizes that, and, as i mentioned, that is why he became a teacher. so that no young sorcerers will feel the burden of being the strongest alone.

the problem is this is easier said than done. after gojo dies, this burden gets passed down to yuuta, and he feels that immense pressure, which is why he decides to do what he does. he says "haven’t we been pushing the burden of being a monster onto gojo-sensei alone? if gojo-sensei is gone, then who else will be the monster? If no one intends to become one, then I will!" and i think this really powerful evidence of the pressure and burden of being the strongest, and i think the word monster is really important here. the burden pushes people to be something they're not, a shadow of their true self.

it distorts morality, like with geto. it isolates people, like with gojo. it forces people to go to unspeakable lengths to uphold their burden, like with yuuta. it leads people with immense power to doubt themselves, like with megumi. it leads people to feel like a cog in the machine, not a human, like with yuuji.

this is sooo so important and a key theme of jjk, and this chapter in particular, and the driving force behind yuuta's actions.

V. Themes in JJK: Loneliness and Isolation

this one has, in my opinion, a bigger role in the story overall than just in this chapter.

as i mentioned before, gojo is lonely. the only person who could understand him was geto, and he turned away from him, and then died. he seems like a silly guy or whatever, but it's just a mask.

but geto also felt alone and isolated, and that's why he turned away. between gojo and geto, neither of them were able to put share the burden of carrying their strength alone, and it's what kept them apart and made their relationship so tragic.

arguably, and though he would never admit it, sukuna is also lonely, though it's buried deep within him and something he will likely never acknowledge, despite it, and his lack of understanding of love (arguably a symptom of his loneliness), are major reasons for the way he acts.

yuuta, though supported by maki, inumaki, and panda in a way that the previously mentioned characters are not, is still isolated. he alone carries the burden of his strength. he was also alone his whole life after rika died, and then again when he was shipped off to africa, away from his friends (yeah he had miguel, maybe i'm missing something, but i dont see them having that type of relationship.

not only that, but yuuta recognizes gojo's loneliness, and reaches out to tell him not to try to stand by himself once again, and gojo admits that's something he can't do, the reason being his relationship with geto.

even further, yuuji and megumi, the parallel to satosugu, are both deeply lonely, except for when they have each other. i mentioned in this analysis that the reason megumi can't just get up and keep going is because he's alone and has been for over a month. i want to get into this more in my next point.

VI. Where I think (hope) this leads for JJK

a satisfying ending for jjk, in my opinion, would be the resolution to this loneliness and burden of strength issue that has been present throughout the narrative. something like yuuji being able to save megumi and them being able to correct what went wrong with satosugu in their own relationship.

personally would like to see satosugu reach the ending they should have had through the itafushi parallels - let them save each other! but i do know gege said only one of them (the trio + gojo) will die, or only one will live....that was years ago maybe he changed his mind :D

we all want to see yuuji take down sukuna himself, but i think it would be a great resolution to see everyone take down sukuna as a team. no one person is alone, no one person has the burden of the strongest. i know i said this wasn't a "power of friendship" manga, and i stand by that, but i think this would be the perfect ending. yuuta throws his humanity away to do what he did in 261 because he felt like it was the only choice and it was something he alone could do, but yuuji represents unwavering humanity (literally his name), and i think to preserve that, they all need to share that burden. let them realize they need each other.

this is what gojo died for, and this is what he lived for. this is why he became a teacher in the first place- to raise a generation that can be strong together, that can support one another.

VII. "It's poorly written torture porn!" "There's no point if there's no happy ending!" etc

i said this in a separate post but tragedies have existed in literature since the 6th century BCE, 2600 years ago. many of the most popular stories throughout history have been tragedies, for example, orpheus & eurydice, romeo & juliet, even things like the fault in our stars and the titanic movie. here's a quick explanation of what it means for a story to be a tragedy (yeah it's from wikipedia but they want me to pay to access the original source and im not doing that for a jjk analysis)

one of things i like most about this definition is the use of the word "catharsis," which is to say that the expression of strong emotions is a way of bringing about renewal and relief. in literature, it's used to say that with the arousal and following release of negative emotions relieves suppressed emotions for the viewer. im not gonna get too personal with it, but i know i've experienced this with jjk.

additionally all of the aforementioned tragedies, they have a message, no matter how sad they are. orpheus & eurydice inspires perseverance and faith in the gods. even something like titanic has messages about everlasting love that overcomes all boundaries. jjk has its message too, and it's long underway. we just have to wait for it to reach its conclusion.

it's easy to lose sight of the bigger picture when we only get one chapter a week, and the fact that the pain is so dragged out is a bit tiring, i'll admit. but that doesn't mean it's bad. having negative emotions stirred by a story doesn't mean bad writing. i mean, i would hope you feel sad. i would hope you feel angry. i would be concerned if you didn't. but given that jjk is a tragedy, that just indicates good writing. especially these last two chapters, i've felt moved in a way nothing else has done for me in a long time.

as always, these are just my thoughts!!! im happy to hear from anyone what they think :D

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #sukuna #yuuta okkotsu #jjk leaks #jjk spoilers #jjk 261

[rayroseu]

"Don't be scared even if we wake up from this dream..."

Happy Birthday, Malleus! 🧁🐉✨

I love to think that those years where Malleus was refusing to hatch, he spent those years with Meleanor in the stars...🥹🥹

A Draconias death means they're returning to the stars... which makes me think that Draconias are from the stars before they're born in TWST... Them not being from TWST exactly explains why they're so "unrealistic" in the first place

They can control the weather, they can engulf the sky in complete darkness, they can cast random mountains, they can return a past state of time, they can trespass on a person's dream, they can switch between several people's consciousness, they can stop time, they can cover an entire island and more in thorns and magic, they can make two realms collide, etc

All these traits are incredibly unreal for average TWST cast,,,, which made me think, why is this family the only ones who's so... overpowered?lol But if you think that they are like this, because they're not from this world(TWST) then it would explain why their abilities are "out of this world's realistic standards" in the first place.

Additionally, Malleus' eggshells resembles the galaxy which further proof they can be from the stars✨✨✨ Malleus is also referred to by Meleanor as "a blessed star for faes but a terrifying star for humans".... So she referred to Malleus as a star yk

There's also the fairy from Pinocchio who came from a star, so faes (like Draconias in this theory) can come from stars

So it's like Meleanor who died and returned to the stars but Malleus who's not born and still in the stars, they spent time together there,,,, that's why Malleus took a long time to hatch, because he already has the parental love he craves for as a baby in this star, so why should he live or be born in TWST?🥹

I remember Malleus fears the unknown, and being born in a world is exactly that. But he, as an egg, lights up whenever Lilia talks to him about his life in TWST, so it gives Malleus an idea that this world isn't that terrifying and that he wouldn't be born alone.

(From Meleanor's Lullaby)"Stay with the eyes that still gaze upon you, don't be scared, even if you wake up from this dream" its like during his centuries of incubation, Meleanor was comforting malleus not to be scared and to wake up in the real world now.... even if once he hatches/wakes up, she won't be there for him anymore and he'll forget everything about her (except for the tiny lullaby she often sings to him)🥹😔😔

(tl by cymr on yt)

I guess the reason why Malleus finally hatched is because Meleanor was telling him to go now and experience the world who's not riddled with war and the world where Lilia fully realized his love for Malleus now-- Because he won't be alone. For Lilia will be with him.

That's why when he was an egg he constantly cries for Lilia bcs thats how Meleanor conveyed it to Malleus that Lilia is always there for him, that he can love Malleus if she can't be by Malleus' side...😭😭

There's also this lyric from Meleanor's lullaby... "May you walk to the light that guides you in your dreams" It pains me because Meleanor overblotted during her death, right? And overblotting can mean succumbing to "darkness", so she maybe wishing for Malleus not to be engulfed in darkness (overblot) by walking towards the "light" but uh.... Book 7 😭😭😭💔💔💔

In conclusion, another Malleyuu parallel 😳✨☝🏻 Malleus and Yuu are both not from this world, that's why they're so out of place... Hm...🥹🥹🥹

This is inspired by Mafumafu-san's Nighty Night and bcs of this song I got hit by this theory for Meleanor and Malleus during his centuries of incubation 😭✨🥹

I'm still wishing for more Meleanor and Malleus content, ‼️‼️‼️I will die on this hill istgg😭😭😭

Once again, Happiest Birthday, Hornton 🥰🥰☺️🥳🥳🧁🧁✨✨💚💚🐉🐉

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #malleus draconia #lian notes #disney twst #lilia vanrouge #twst malleus #malleus twst #meleanor draconia #twst meleanor #twst theory #twst headcanons #twst book 7 theory #twst book 7 #twst yuu #twst diasomnia #twst meleanor draconia #twst malleus draconia #twst hcs #twisted wonderland fanart #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst wonderland #my art #art #lian arts #twisted wonderland theory

[highlandwhackamole]

A Grand(ish) Theory of What the Heck

I love the utterly unhinged, super detailed theories about what's going on in Good Omens, especially in season 2. I hope one or more of them turn out to be true, as some kind of glorious puzzle-box-hidden-code monstrosity. And also I think that there has to be a simpler explanation for things, for the people who are at least Somewhat Normal (tm) about this show. (... I assume such people do exist somewhere...) This is what I have been pondering recently.

The thing that started me thinking about this was this post, containing some promotional materials for season 2 that feature main characters with scenes in their heads. Like this:

Seeing this created a very similar situation in my own head, but with a nice shiny lightbulb.

All the weirdness: the car, the sideburns, the clock, the behavior of the folks of Soho, the vanishing storefront signs. The absence of God. I think this is all because everything we see is in their heads.

I don't mean it's made up. At least not entirely. Memory is already a plot point. Why not explore it on a deeper level? I've read theories emphasizing the minisodes' stories being retold by Aziraphale and Crowley. I think the whole season is like that.

You know that sort of conventional-wisdom-fact-concept that you can only dream faces of people you've seen before (or variations therein), because your brain can't make new faces up? So it just fills in what it thinks is close enough? I think that idea, applied to remembering or recollecting things, could explain so many things that are wonky in this show.

Wonky Things

Crowley parking in an impossible London location? He definitely remembers it was in London, so his brain just stuck some obvious London landmarks in there.

Awkward clattering happening when Crowley throws the stacks of books he's inexplicably carrying around the bookshop? He wouldn't actually throw Aziraphale's books! But he'd like to think he's cool and nonchalant enough to do that, and if he did it would definitely make Some Kind of Noise.

Jim walking toward the bookshop from somewhere mysterious? Maggie and Nina saw him first, and he came from that direction, so he must've walked all that way. They don't know about the elevator in the Donkey.

Aziraphale remembers tartan hills and the Loch Ness monster because he was having a jolly time driving through Scotland, so obviously the scenery must've been whimsical Scottish things.

Nina put the Honolulu roast sign up, so she remembers its presence, but perhaps the occult/ethereal visitors to her shop do not.

Maggie really did text Aziraphale about the rent, but a note through the mail slot is a much more dignified way for a scholarly angel to imagine he received a message.

On the Fallibility of Recall

This season is loaded with unrealistic inclusions. The colors are turned up to 11. Some of the scenes are more caricature than believable interaction. Remembering things never copies or reproduces them with what one might call high fidelity.

Scenes recalled by separate memories will inherently vary. One person's hefty jigger might be another person's dash. Who knows for sure where the sun was that day? You and I might recall an event having different lighting or a different color palette, sort of like viewing something with different lens filters.

According to Neil, Crowley is an unreliable narrator of the story of his Fall. He labels the variations in clock times as a continuity error in a show where Everything Is Meant, but he doesn't say whose continuity error it is. He insists that the Bentley is the same through the whole season; maybe it was the same, but remembered differently. Maybe this is part of why there's more CGI but it's harder to spot.

So What?

Is this all there is to it? I sure hope not. I like my Good Omens with enough layers to put to shame an onion wrapped in a cake and covered in a parfait.

Is this possibly the fancy footwork that's distracting from the real magic trick? I wouldn't put it past Our Gaiman. There are a lot of things one could hide in the narrative of unreliable memory.

Is this going to stop me from rewatching and repondering and remaking theories for the next couple years? Not even at gunpoint.

#good omens #good omens meta #ineffable mystery #neil gaiman #good omens questions #good omens 2

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 27 - Double Penetration in Two Holes

Ghost x Soap x AFAB!Reader - 1.1k

summary: You go home with a pair of nice men from the bar and end up having the best sex of your life. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: unrealistic anal sex lmao

You hadn’t known what to expect when you agreed to go home with two men at the bar.

They’d introduced themselves as Simon and Johnny - well, Johnny had introduced himself and Simon. Two military men on leave, looking to let off some steam at a local bar, and they'd somehow decided you'd make good conversation. You’d realized quickly that they were in a relationship, and had been quite disappointed you wouldn’t get to go home with either of them. Still, you sat with them for nearly two hours, running through virtually any topics that popped into your head.

Oddly, it was Simon who invited you back to their apartment. You hadn’t even thought he liked you, had been caught very off guard by what you interpreted as an invite to a threesome.

Still, you’d agreed. Sent off a picture of Johnny’s I.D. to a close friend and finished off your drink before they ordered an Uber.

Your theory that you’d been invited to a threesome is immediately confirmed when Johnny covers you lips with his the moment their front door closes behind you. His palms cup your cheeks, and his enthusiasm makes you stumble back a bit. You open your mouth to Johnny’s stroking tongue just as you feel Simon catch you by the hips, his front warm against your back.

Everything from there is a blur of kisses and bites, groping hands and shed clothing. Johnny’s a bit of a biter, you quickly discover, and Simon is clearly the one in control as he herds all three of you down the hallway. By the time you reach their bedroom door, you’re in just your underwear, both of the men with you shirtless.

You straddle Simon’s hips when he sits on the bed, grind on his lap a bit as he holds a hand around your neck and keeps your kiss slow and smooth. Johnny feels you up over your shoulder, fingers plucking at your nipples with the perfect amount of force to make you writhe. The sensation leaves you moaning into Simon’s mouth, soaking through your panties.

The three of you move up the bed once Simon and Johnny are fully stripped and your underwear have been thrown across the room. Simon leans back on the pillows, grabs you by the thighs and urges you into the position to ride him.

Johnny moves to your side as Simon tucks a few fingers into your cunt to stretch you, licking and sucking at your nipples while you give his cock a few tugs. Simon pulls away for just a moment, winks up at you when he rolls a condom over his rock-hard member.

Soon enough Simon’s got you by the hips, sinking you down on his cock. You moan loudly at the frankly unimaginable stretch, your head thrown back and one hand planted on his chest to hold yourself up. You feel Johnny move behind you, and he pushes between your shoulder blades until you’re laid flat to Simon’s chest.

“Can you take us both, lass?” Johnny asks, hunching over you to whisper in your ear.

The suggestion makes you moan again, has you grinding on Simon’s dick and clenching around him. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Do-d’you have lube?”

Simon rolls his hips into yours, uses his grip on his thighs to help you properly ride him while Johnny ducks over to the bedside table. Just moments later you feel a warm hand on your ass, then cold lube drip down onto you.

Johnny’s careful to stretch you more slowly than Simon had, giving you plenty of time to adjust to the stretch of one finger, then two, then three.

By the time he notches his latex-wrapped head at your entrance, you’re coated in sweat and more than ready for him to fuck you.

Johnny collars a hand loosely around your throat, pulls you up so your back rests against his chest as he sinks slowly into you.

The pressure has all three of you moaning, Simon’s grip on your hips turning bruising and Johnny’s breaths erratic against your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for him to sink to the hilt inside of you, stretching you further than you’ve ever been before.

“Fuck, Johnny,” Simon pants beneath you, clenching his teeth as tightly as he’s grabbing your hips. “Can feel you inside or her.”

“Feel you too, Si,” Johnny moans into your shoulder. “Let me know when I can move, love, need to fuck you so badly.”

You give yourself a few long moments to adjust to the stretch, waiting until you’re absolutely sure your body is ready to lift yourself up, then drop your weight down.

Again, the three of you moan in sync. Johnny and Simon find a rhythm quickly, Johnny stroking in when Simon strokes out so you’ve always got at least one cock buried to the hilt inside of you. The pleasure leaves you limp, drooling onto Simon’s chest with your eyes rolled back in your head and just riding the waves of pleasure.

“So fuckin’, good,” Simon rumbles beneath you, and you can feel every word in your own chest. “Such a perfect girl, lettin’ us fuck her silly. So good for us.”

Johnny moans in agreement behind you, his thrusts becoming a little erratic as he nears his orgasm.

Simon slips a hand from your hip down to your clit before either one of them comes, rubs quick little circle against you until you’re wriggling on top of him and moaning with your head thrown back. 

“Oh god- fuck, she’s so fuckin’ tight, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-” Johnny rambles, words slurring together before he finally slams to a stop deep inside of you, letting out his own pornographic moan as he rides the waves of his own orgasm with little twitches of his hips.

Simon doesn’t last much longer after either of you, your pulsing walls coaxing him right to the edge and milking every drop of cum from his body.

You’re all silent in the aftermath, stacked on top of each other like legos even after they both slip from your body. Simon is the one who moves first, nudging the two of you off of him and onto the bed. Johnny pulls the condom off his now soft dick, then immediately curls himself around you. 

Were you a little less drunk on the best one-night stand of your life, it would occur to you that you should maybe try and sneak out before morning. But Simon moves to your front, holds you and Johnny both to his chest, and you’re far too warm to even think of getting out of bed.

#welcome back to: can bo write vanilla sex well? #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #bo writes #dark fic #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #Johnny soap mactavish x you #cod x reader #kinktober day 27 #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #john soap mactavish

[ytsunodabrainrotbaybee]

Violet!

-> Violet! by Waterparks

Oscar Piastri x an accident prone neurodivergent reader

Essentially the three-ish times that Oscar starts fussing over you, and the one time he got it right.

Groceries, unloading groceries.

Picking up a case of bottled water was enough to have Oscar hovering. Asking if you needed him to take it from you, as he tucked a carton of milk under his arm.

Not that he didn’t try taking the water first. You shoo’d him away from the trunk of your car before he had a chance.

“You really don’t know how this works,” you stated.

“I know that last time you dislocated something it was after you got your finger stuck in a mop bucket,” he opened your apartment door for you to walk in and drop the case of water onto your counter.

“And I had no idea because you don’t express pain.”

You rolled your eyes as he took the couple of steps towards you he needed to be able to rest his hands on your waist. You stared up at his eyes, watching him blink as he stared down at you. He watched your eyes shift from one of his to the other.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asked.

You didn’t answer, just wishing he could read your mind. Though some days it felt like he could, he could never understand the simple phrases that circled your mind when you couldn’t dream to force them out.

“I love you too,” he said, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before turning to start putting your things away.

~~~~

Oscar didn’t hover 24/7.

That would be unrealistic.

it was just when he got back to you after weeks, sometimes months, on the road for work.

He’d wake you up as early as he made it back and hide himself in your apartment until he felt like a normal person again. You’d go on with your life like you had been until he pulled himself up and out of your room like a bear from hibernation.

With an insatiable thirst from well over 24 hours of sleep to combat the jet lag, he started the day watching you cook breakfast.

Not a measuring cup to be seen, you’d drift from one spot in the kitchen to another with the steady destruction of a tornado. Always producing the best waffles and coffee and parfait he’d ever have. Always better than the last, despite your unwavering commitment to your recipe.

You’d reach for your favorite kitchen knife, and he’d make his way over. Your fingers held onto the fruit you cut in an unsettling fashion. He’d offer to cut the fruit for you every once in a while.

Too much of a deviation in your routine. So he settled for watching close as you shifted your hands uncomfortably to account for the knife and it’s ever shrinking victim.

~~~~

In theory, race weekends should be a sensory nightmare.

People rushed around you, stood in the garage next to some mechanics you were probably introduced to more than once. The adrenaline radiating from everyone around you, the yelling back and forth as the countdown to lights out drug on.

Weekends in the garage were the best.

you watched intently the way people dodged each other, racing back and forth to get any loose ends tied up.

As time went on, Oscar and Lando began making their own appearances in the garage as well. The former being sure to make eye contact whenever he could, seeking out a quick shaka to say “right on” and let him know you’re fine.

At that point your headphones hung around your neck. You sat in the busy noise, listening and watching with an intense focus that by the end of the event would make you more tired than anything. It’s fine. It’s more than fine.

You could always sleep better after days in the garage anyways.

~~~~

The end of the day could be a bit harder

Oscar would take extra care after race days, especially when you’ve spent the whole weekend in the garage. He’d tell you to quit overextending yourself, you’d tell him you want to see him drive.

Your head drifted downwards as you stared up over your sunglasses frames. Your AirPods tucked under your headphones blasting a playlist of the day. Both tale-tale signs of being checked out.

Oscar sat himself next to you as soon as his time in the media pen was done. He reached for your hand, which you offered without a second thought. He squeezed twice, his own signal to you asking if you’re ready.

You nodded and the two of you stood. Maybe a little quick, as you stumbled into his side. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the two of you made your way out and to wherever he had his car parked.

He chattered on to you about the race, and whatever drama it was that happened between Carlos and Pierre during the post race interviews. You nodded along, asking questions that would take him into a different area of whatever he could be excited about.

The path the two of you walked was pavement, for the most part it was very even. Not even a rock out of place. Staring down into the pavement as you walked and listened was an experience. The grey concrete shined in the sun overhead.

You let Oscar pull you to the side, away from the edge of the sidewalk. Your foot nearly slipping into the grass beside it, had your boyfriend not urged you away.

“wow I could almost feel that one,” you looked back to the edge of the sidewalk you had been walking on.

Oscar only laughed, squeezing your shoulder as the two of you continued your walk, “that’s what I’m here for, hm?”

#oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri x you #I am now a McLaren girlie #thank you #yes I am procrastinating why do you ask? #Am I projecting? Absolutely #neurodivergent reader #maybe a touch of the tism baby

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (8)

VIII. Your Obstacle

MASTERLIST

Summary: You want to get out of Cregan’s way

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, pregnancy, sickness, pandemic, unrealistic timing and portraits of a pandemic, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3 k 

Notes: Now Reader and Cregan will be even... you might not like me after this 😬 anyways! Merry Christmas!

“Arra”, you woke up as he was again lost in his mind, “Arra my love”, he was dying, his mind was delusional in fever and yet, you felt your chest tightening, “Rickon”, he only whispered the name of his first wife, his childhood friend, and the one of his son

“I will care for him”

He whispered 

He was burning up again, after getting better the day before when you got there to tend to him. You stood up, and searched for the Grand maester 

“I can’t lower the temperature of his grace”, you cried to the man all the way in the tower of the hand

“Your grace, you should be in your rooms”, he said urgently, “if you catch the disease, we are all lost”

“I need you to help me with Cregan, he caught it”, you cried.

The man and Arryk ran to your side, and towards Cregan’s rooms, he had not eaten not drink anything since the day before, no matter how much you tried to give him sips of water.

The Maester checked on him dutifully

“His temperature is great, your grace”, he said, in his eyes… you didn’t even want to think about it, you didn’t even want to think about what it meant

“No, do something! anything!”

“Let’s prepare him a bath”. The Red Keep had been deserted, but by a handful of servants that were obligated to stay in the palace ground and have no contact with the exterior, those helped you and Arryk make a bath for Cregan.

The maester placed his boney hand on the water, the other, on Cregan’s forehead

“It’s ready your grace”, both the water and Cregan’s high temperature being the same, Arryk, the maester and you grabbed Cregan and placed him on the water slowly

He whined and grunted

He was chanting another woman’s name in his fever induced dreams, and his son’s name. She had died in childbirth, or rather after, but his son? you had kept him from him, from seeing him and taking care of him like any father should

You didn’t know what to do about that, could it be that he dreamed of the life he once had rather than the one he had now? He hadn't muttered your name not once, and you tried to focus on rather doing whatever you could to help him instead of this… silly things

But you were his wife now, and you were expecting his child, even though you haven't confirmed it with the maesters, and… he didn’t know yet, but still…. would he hold you in his thoughts as he did his former wife?

After all, the child you were carrying was not going to be his, he belonged to the Targaryen dynasty, and the Iron Throne, it was not a normal child, his heir… was in Winterfell…

You hold him as he rested in the tub, the theory was that at matching temperatures, as the water started to get more tempered, so will he, his body temperature lowering

With a cloth you kept his forehead and head also wet, with the current temperature of the water.

As minutes trespassed, his face seemed more relaxed, his temperature was indeed lowering

Would he regain consciousness? would he ever look into your eyes and speak to you again?

You had to believe he was going to

As he grunted into consciousness, the maester made him drink some tea with other herbs, and he did, that itself was an improvement.

Once the water was cold, you removed him from the water, dried him, and even he himself stood, with your help, and you laid him back down on fresh sheets.

His fever was no longer there, almost, it had worked, but the Maester had given him milk of the poppy so now he had fallen on a thick sleep.

“There it is your grace, soon he will wake, and when he does, he most likely, left this disease behind him”, muttered the Maester, “if the fever doesn’t return, if it does, please, call for me”

“Thank you”, both men left you alone with your husband

You sat by his bedside, taken his hand on yours, scared his fever will raise again

The night fell over the Seven Kingdoms, and you were so tired, that you fell asleep, your head laying on the rough sheets by his side, his hand on yours

Sleep took you without you fighting it, letting you slumber in dark dreams as dark tides swallowed you whole.

You dreamt about being in one of the royal vessels, it wasn’t nighttime, but it looked like it, the clouds so gray, so dark, they could swallow you whole. The boat was at the mercy of the waves, the sea was wild and dangerous, you felt like you lose your footing on deck

There was no one in sight but you, but you felt ghosts of people all around you, moving the sails, working the ship

You knew you had a destination and that you had come from King’s Landing, but the uncertainty as you crossed the storm was making you tremble. You were alone, nobody you knew was in sight, and in your dream, you knew… Cregan was not there with you.

Behind the clouds, you could hear a dragon, it wasn’t Vhaelar, it was someone else…

You woke up because you felt a squeeze, a gentle squeeze, you opened your eyes, alarmed, and when you managed to focus them, some gray eyes were staring back at you

“What are you doing here my love?”, he asked, and you couldn’t help but cry out of happiness and relief, once you placed your hand on his head, making sure he was clear of the fever

Two months, you had been battleting the disease that stretched out far and wide, but as it came, it went away… for those who survived…

Within the castle, it had taken many lords and ladies, but the most important within your circle was… Alicent and Lord Tyland Lannister.

The former, that sick woman, literally and figuratively, has snuck out of her rooms, sick with the winter fever, and tried to barge into the nursery, Jahaera and Aegon’s rooms. According to Arryk, she had screamed the name of your baby brother with “murderous intent”, she wanted to see him, to make him catch the disease as she screamed, scaring the children, which only worsened the situation because then the mad Queen was conscious that Jahaera was there… her only living descendant

She lost it then, but she was a sickly and weak woman, and once the soldiers gathered she was easily taken back and locked in her rooms.

She refused her green dresses, she wanted to jump off a window, in the end she died with sorrow on her face and your mother’s name on her tongue.

You felt relief, and you couldn’t hide it

But the loss of Tyland did strike you and your family. He had been there since you could remember, even if sometimes he was an idiot, he was there, and had been faithfully for you since Aegon died, probably poisoned with his help

Anyways, you were barely getting the hand of your small council.

But the Lannisters did not want to let the post go, so they were going to send Tyland’s cousin. You were looking forward to him, now with Tyland gone, and Jason dead in the war, the line had to change within the Lannister House, but it remained strong, as they assured you. 

You wanted to be so relieved that Cregan survived, but every time you saw his face, you were reminded of his face twisted in fever and agony, chanting another woman’s name like a prayer. 

You felt so terribly guilty for keeping him here.

So you… as soon as he was better… you demanded of him to go to Winterfell

“No, I’m not leaving you”, Cregan said, passing around the room

“You need to go home, Cregan, to aid in this crisis, the maester suggests that once you caught it and survive, you won’t caught it again”, you said quickly

“The disease is still raging, you are still…”

“I won’t catch it”, you said firmly, “I’m from the blood of old Valyria, blood forged with magic”, you said, he chuckled, mocking you, but you were not joking

“My love..”, he said condescendingly, but you didn’t budge.

“Tyland’s cousin is coming, the realms are at peace, it’s time”, you sentenced 

He didn’t fight you anymore, and it broke your heart even more to see the excitement in his gorgeous eyes. He might be trying to deny you, but he couldn’t hide it, he was excited to leave, and you couldn’t blame him

The mere thought of being without him for so long made your stomach twist, you hand instinctively went to your lower belly, Cregan noticed

“Are you well?”, he asked, you nodded

“I’m fine”, you said

“You look different”, he said with caution

“It was a hellish week”, you answered back

“I see”

You had yet to confirm your doubts with the maester, but you were certain

You were with child

And you were about to send the father back home for spite, well, not quite, but, you were pushing him away, to leave your side. Without him knowing.

So as Cregan was distracted with preparations for his departure, you went to visit the Grand Maester.

“Wonderful news, you are indeed with child your grace”, the old man said, he had been your mothers Maester, he probably aid in your own birth, his eyes filled with tears of happiness

“I’m so glad”, you muttered, “but we must keep this between us, it’s to soon”, he nodded eagerly

“Are you going to tell Lord Cregan?”, he asked

“I’m not sure”, you admitted 

“But the hand is leaving your grace”, he said softly. 

“I know”, you said shortly

Within a week, Cregan was ready to leave, and even though you wanted to cry and hold onto him, you stood in front of him in the Royal Harbor 

“If you take a lover, please be careful, and don’t let him plant his seed in your belly”, he whispered, you only looked at him

“The same goes to you husband, don’t plant your seed on another woman’s field”, you answered meaningly

“Wouldn’t dream of it”, he whispered

“Good”, did he really think you could take anyone who isn’t him? Now you wanted to cry even more 

You were angry, you didn’t even know why… Your heart was breaking at his departure, and you did not want to feel like this, you wanted to get it over with

Your marriage still did not feel concrete enough, he, Cregan, has as well been forced to marry you, nothing else, and even though he and you too have taken joy in bedding each other, there was nothing else there.

Yes he cared for you, but like a sworn sword would care for his princess, nothing else

He frowned when he saw how you evaded him with your eyes

“You are alright? I’ll be back before you even notice”

“You will lose the tide, my love”, you said soulesly, “you should go”, that would have offended him, if he hadn't seen you all angry and offended like you were. He only smirked.

You were angry because he was leaving 

And that made him glad somehow

You cared 

“I’ll be back before you know it, the small council already promised to keep you entertained”, he said softly

“Yes husband”, you muttered, not feeling it, you were like a little child, being comforted by a parent. 

“And I wouldn’t oppose a visit from you, on dragonback”, he teased, you barely smiled

“Very well”, you muttered

“I will arrive in Winterfell in three weeks”, he said with hope in his voice, you barely nodded, again, evading his gaze.

You weren’t angry at him, you were angry at the situation, but it still hurt, very much so, his departure, the thought of not having him by your side, in your bed, not waking him to his hand on your body and his lips on yours

But he had called another woman’s name on his sleep

He leaned in, grabbing your face on his hands softly, and he kissed you hungrily, with longing, you did as well

“Please send word, whatever happens, anything”, he demanded against your lips, you only nodded

“Yes my lord husband”, he gave you a last smile and nodded.

He was taking a grand part of his army with him, those who wanted to return home, but many stayed, in King's Landing or in the Riverlands. 

As you watched him go, you turned to the maester

“Your grace! you didn’t tell him”, he chided softly 

“What kind of wife would I be if I kept him from his son this long? the fever almost took him, what if he never saw his child again?”, you whined, but as you watched the boat sail away, you wiped those thoughts from your mind. You turned to the maester with a soft smile

“We shall tell the small council, that I am with child, now that my husband has just left, I will not give ground for doubts on the paternity of my unborn child as were my brothers”

“Never, my sweet gracious lady”, he said, “we shall tell them this very meeting later today”, you only smiled softly 

You summoned them as soon as the ship’s sails were no longer visible in the horizon

“Lord Cregan just left, we expect him to return in less than a year”, you said firmly, you didn't know where the strength came, you wanted to be curled up in your room, crying, hugging your pillow, your chest was constricted against the fabric of your dress.

You missed him already

You can’t believe he is gone, that you were not going to see him for the next year, or so… that you were expecting his child, and you were going to give birth to him or her… alone, completely alone, without your husband

But it was the right thing to do, you knew it, you couldn't be this selfish, he had a family of his own, a whole country that he needed to see. If you would have told him, he wouldn’t have left, another year far from home, another year away from his son.

You couldn’t have that

“The year will pass swiftly your grace”, muttered Lord Redwyne, “not to worry”

“There is something else”, you said, sharing glances with the Maester, “I’m with child”, there was a few awkwards silent seconds, and then the room exploded with cheers and words of encouragement

“That is great news, your grace!”

“A new prince or princess! A new era!”

“The country is flourishing again”

You only smiled

“Congratulations your grace”, said Lord Celtigar by your side, “But Lord Cregan just left”, he muttered

“Yes, in reality he does not know, and we must kept it that way”, you said firmly and the room was quiet, “he needed to go back home, to resolve some matters of the greatest importance, and he wouldn’t have gone if he knew the news”

“Very well, as your grace commands”, said Lord Redwyne

“This is for the greater good”, you assured them, and the men at the table changed their concerned looks.

You didn’t even wanted to go back to your rooms, you wanted to keep yourself distracted, the castle was still in high alert because of the disease, but still, you finally were able to visit your brother Aegon and Jahaera, who, against all odds, had finally bonded in a somewhat sweet friendship.

They already know how to read, so all this time in confinement had allow them to read and read, history books, children’s books, books about animals, their minds were distracted and absorbed in other things, they had finally managed to reach some other emotions rather than sorrow, and you were so grateful

Their nannies were excellent and had aid them in that as well, keeping them distracted

But the night came anyways, no matter how distracted you kept yourself, and even though if for the past two months you had been sleeping alone, now that you knew Cregan was not even in the castle, that each passing second he was sailing further and further away… you couldn’t sleep

And when you did, terrible nightmares tortured your mind

You were again on that ship, Cregan was with you and… the waves and the storm dragged you to the bottom of the ocean, the waves tearing you apart. 

You were alone again, and it was of your own making.

Cregan could already feel the cold breeze hit his face, he was excited, he couldn’t wait any longer to get home… 

He looked over his shoulder, back towards King’s Landing, where you had remained, he had second thoughts about leaving you, he did, but he knew you were going to be alright, you had to be. You were stronger than you seemed

You were surely going to visit him in Winterfell, right?

You didn’t want to admit it, but you cared for him, you did, you had challenged a dangerous disease just to tent him, made sure he survived. Being with you strengthening your relationship was vital, but… either way, you were not yet with child, once you were, he was never going to part from your side, so it had to be now, that is what he thought

He didn’t need to stay one year away, he was going back home with news for his sister and to feel the current climate, that wat, he might even be able to return sooner to you, perhaps you even felt stronger to fly back to Winterfell to see him, that would certainly improve everything, he thought

When he came back, he was going to tell you to make a tour throughout the Kingdoms, they needed to see you, see their Queen.

He breathed in the fresh sea breeze, and smiled.

He was coming home to see his son, and yet, he couldn’t wait for you to see Winterfell, he couldn’t wait for you to meet his son… He couldn’t wait… for your future together.

He had survived, thanks to you, he had survived the deathly fever, for you, for his son, for the children he knew you were going to give him, for the future of the Kingdoms.

He just needed to… learn to combine his worlds together.

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia26200 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd @lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @persophonekarter

#misguidedhour #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan x reader #cregan stark #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #house targaryen #house stark #hbo house of the dragon

[mikaila-orchard]

Anduin still gets more respect and dignity than Sylvanas ever did and I'm still mad about it.

Aight, the new WoW trailer stirred up some old animosity that I have to get out lest it fester.

The problem I've had with Anduin for the past few years is something that isn't even strictly his fault, and is just symptomatic of how shitty the writing staff is. In theory, Anduin is an interesting bit of flavor for the Alliance. Someone who was raised in a very turbulent time in the Alliance's history, gone through some shit when he was too early to handle it and is plagued with self doubt because of it. All of this complimented by Velen's vision of Anduin's future going down two very different roads.

Alas, the problem is in execution. Because what we are left with in practice is a character who goes through comparatively less than other legacy characters (Thrall being raised as a slave, Jaina losing her home and loved ones regularly and Sylvanas with fucking everything) but who, by the time Shadowlands rolls around, insists that he is the one suffering the most and everyone else needs to get over themselves. And that wouldn't be so bad (hell, in Shadows Rising, it's kinda treated as a genuine character flaw) but that's not the case because WoW treats Anduin like the moral barometer of the franchise for many years now.

There are multiple examples of this throughout, but the biggest culprit is all across BFA and Shadowlands, where Anduin is made to understand the hardships that Sylvanas and the Forsaken have suffered, most of it by the Alliance's hands, and just shuts it down with "Everyone suffers, stop hiding behind your trauma and rise above it," and because BFA is framing him as the hero and Sylvanas as the villain he gets away with it. In the fucking Sylvanas book, he has the gall to say Sylvanas had a better life than him because she knew her mother and calls her selfish for committing suicide. And of course the book frames Anduin as being in the right about all of this because they decided Sylvanas holding him captive was the time they would even allow to let her reach out to someone and hope they understand her. The deck was always stacked against Sylvanas and in Anduin's favor in terms of audience sympathy.

But then, what happens in Shadowlands? He gets dominated by Zovaal, stabs the Archon (doesn't even kill her), maybe kills a bunch of unnamed npcs off screen, and fights his friends. Not a single tally to add to his body count while he was a puppet. And when he is freed from Zovaal's control, he doesn't lose his support system, he doesn't lose the respect of his loved ones or his people, and he's not put under pressure to just be okay again.

AND YET!

He still goes on this self imposed exile of his, and has been on it for over half a decade at this point, because he is just too haunted by everything he's 'seen and done'. Things that we as the audience don't really see. So in practice, the justification for all this on screen angst is so painfully weak. And yes, there's no wrong way to respond to trauma and there never will be, and Anduin's trauma responses are far from unrealistic.

But compared to Sylvanas, Anduin is giving a great deal more respect and dignity by the narrative for, comparatively, much less. Sylvanas was enslaved and forced to murder her countrymen (onscreen too, we MADE HER DO THAT in warcraft 3) and when she was finally freed, she had no support system besides her rangers and Nathanos, she was feared by her former homeland who only accepted her help out of desperation and was hated and distrusted by enemies and allies alike way before she might have done anything to deserve it. The game even leans into the idea that the Sylvanas who suffered all this trauma isn't the real Sylvanas and we just needed to restore her soul to have the pure pious ranger general back (barf). And she still has to toil away in superhell because the writers were too chickenshit to fully backpedal on the deliberate character assassination the sexual predator on staff forced upon her.

"Oh, but M'Kay! That's the writers fault, not Anduin's! You can't blame him for all that."

Maybe not but a lot of the issue here comes from the fact that so long as the people who enabled this inequity of care remains on staff (IE fucking GOLDEN) this won't stop. So what choice do I have but to loathe the byproduct of this fuckery when it's being shoved in my face like this? What other way could I possibly interpret this disparity other than as misogyny?

#wow #world of warcraft #sylvanas windrunner #anduin wrynn critical #though honestly its mostly christie golden critical #and yes I will probably remain salty about this until the day I die

[atiny-desire]

Scream pt. 2

Pairing: Yandere! Wooyoung x fem! Reader Summary: A year has passed since the events on Halloween, and you had given up on the idea of ever escaping Wooyoung's grasp. That was until someone very unexpected helped you out. Word count: 7.1 k Disclaimer: I'm in no way condoning, justifying, encouraging nor promoting this kind of behavior. This is not supposed to represent Wooyoung in any way. Warning: Yandere behavior, violence, stalking

A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait, but after all, I have finally finished the last part.

Pt. 1

◇◇◇

It's been a year since Wooyoung and Jongho kidnapped you. You were sitting in Wooyoung's lap watching the news on TV. It was your first time watching television this year, Wooyoung said his gift to your 'anniversary' was the privilege of watching TV.

The biggest gift would've been your freedom, but that was just unrealistic thinking on your behalf.

"And now to a tragedy, that is still affecting the people of a small town." You weren't really paying attention when the reporter switched the topic, but the name of your hometown made you perk up.

"One year has passed since three students disappeared without a trace." On screen were three pictures of you, Wooyoung, and Jongho.

"Jung Wooyoung and Choi Jongho are currently the prime suspects in the case of the two murdered girls. Meanwhile, Y/N's involvement in the case is still unclear, although it is assumed that she has been kidnapped by the two suspects." You were surprised to see your face on Television, you thought people gave up looking for you or didn't even search for you to begin with.

While you were paying close attention to what was said, you didn't notice how Wooyoung observed you attentively the whole time. He didn't like how excited you were to see that people were still searching for you.

They moved on to show some Interviews with people who knew you. The first ones were your parents and it almost brought you to tears. Your mother was holding a tissue at her nose while silently crying. Your father was the one to talk. Saying how much they loved and missed you.

The next ones were Hongjoong and Seonghwa. "Honestly, Wooyoung always acted weird when it came to Y/N, but never did I imagine that he would go that far." Hongjoong answered the reporter's question about how they would judge Wooyoung.

Seonghwa nodded along and added, "And neither did we think that Jongho was capable of doing something like this."

To your surprise, not only Mingi was on screen next, but Yunho too. Ever since that night, none of the two would tell you what they did with him. Eventually, you drew your own conclusion of what "Taking care of Yunho" could mean and assumed that Jongho must have killed him.

You felt how Wooyoung tensed up at the sight of him. Glancing at Wooyoung showed you that his jaw was clenched and how he glared at Jongho who was sitting in an armchair, opposite of the couch.

"I always knew that Wooyoung did it!" Yunho was still the same, always overexcited when it came to crime. "And that he abducted Y/N? Not surprised either! He always acted way too possessive of her." Mingi was standing beside him while Yunho was rambling about, scratching his neck with his eyes wandering everywhere but at the camera. He looked like he wanted to go home, but got dragged in front of the camera by the crime obsessed guy beside him.

"Jongho was not expected tho. He tried to kill me, but that was the worst attempt I've ever seen. The only thing he did was leave an ugly scar on the side of my stomach." Yunho shook his head as if he was disappointed, it almost made you smile, seeing him still being the same comforted you a bit. At least you knew now that he was okay.

"So you believe that Y/N was kidnapped," the reporter asked him.

He nodded, his eyes were sparkling because now people were actually interested in his theories. "I mean it's pretty obvious, they found her phone with her last call being the police and Wooyoung was the only one staying with her. And on top of that the mask they found, with his DNA all over it! Wooyoung would never kill her, so the only option is that he took her with him." Yunho sighed and shook his head again. "Wooyoung's and Jongho's sloppy job just shows that they never listened to me."

Wooyoung's grip on your hip became tighter the more he listened to Yunho talk. "You're hurting me!" You grimaced your face, he would leave bruises if he kept doing it. His eyes were burning with hatred as he was staring at the screen, completely ignoring your complaints.

You put your hand over his, trying to pry him off. This caught his attention, his eyes met yours, and it made you stop whatever you were doing. A tiny tingly feeling sparked inside your lower stomach, a feeling that you tried to push away for a few months now. Of course, you knew what this feeling was. You were falling in love with him.

Stockholm syndrome. That was the first thing you thought about once you noticed your growing feelings toward him. You tried your best to fight those feelings, but there was only so much you could do, with him constantly being around you.

The next person was an even bigger surprise, you haven't seen him in years and now he was on television. Yeosang. You squirmed in Wooyoung's hold, his other hand which was lying on your upper thigh was now clamped into your flesh too.

"You and Y/N dated for some time. Did you ever notice anything weird about Jongho and Wooyoung," the reporter asked him.

Yeosang nodded, his white hair moving along with his motions. "Jongho, no. But Wooyoung? Absolutely." He stopped to think about what he was going to say next. "I don't know how to explain it, but I always had a bad feeling about him. From always glaring at me to making passive aggressive comments every time we talked."

He stopped again to bite his lower lip. "I know that seems like small things, but still, there was always something about him that would set my alarm bells off, he just-", Yeosang gestured around with his hands while fighting to find the right words, "I don't know how to explain it, but he had a very weird vibe around him."

The screen went back to the news reporter in the studio, but you couldn't listen to what he was saying because Wooyoung started to demand your attention. "I will never let you go," he suddenly said. You turned your head to look at him again and saw that he was already staring at you. A confident half-smile appeared on his lips. "And you don't want to leave me, right?"

It was delusional of him to think that you were staying with him because you wanted to, but you still nodded, telling him the truth wouldn't benefit you at all and would only put you at risk of being hurt. In the corner of your eye, you saw how Jongho watched the whole interaction, he slightly shook his head and then dedicated his attention to his phone instead.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung put his hand on your cheek and caressed it with his thumb. He got lost in his thoughts for a short moment, you knew what he was thinking about and it reminded you too.

It was your second day being held captive when you argued with Wooyoung. The two of you were standing in the doorway of the room they gave to you.

"So now what?! You're crazy if you think that this would work! People are going to search for me," you were yelling at Wooyoung who was progressively getting more annoyed with you.

You didn't know where you got the sudden confidence from to raise your voice at him, and in hindsight, it was a bad idea.

"Go. Inside. Your room," he repeated himself for the third time now, but you still weren't listening.

You stubbornly shook your head. "Just let me go! You're making it worse for everyone!"

Wooyoung sighed and bit his lip while thinking. "Listen-" he reached for your cheek but he didn't get to touch you. However, instead of just slapping his hand away, you took a more drastic approach.

You bit him.

The silence was deafening, he stared at you before he looked at his hand. A red print mark of your teeth was visible on the back of his hand, tiny dark red dots formed where you broke his skin. You saw how he clenched his jaw, the muscles under his skin were twitching and the veins on his neck became visible.

Your eyes widened in shock, you did it without thinking and the severity of the situation was now sinking in. "I'm sorr-," you didn't get to finish.

Wooyoung used the same hand to strike you across your face. He hit you with his open hand, but since you were unprepared for the impact it was enough to make you stumble back into the room. Your own hand shot up to hold it against your cheek, the skin was warm to your touch and it stung.

You could see the fury in his eyes before he shut the door without sparing you another word. You stood there, still in shock with your hand on your cheek, until you heard him lock the door.

You slowly turned around and curled up on the bed which was standing against the wall behind you. It didn't take long before your eyes became watery and you started to silently cry. Why you? Why did it have to be you?  You were silently begging in your head for someone to come save you

They kept you locked up for about a week before Wooyoung let you out again, but not without announcing that from now on you would have to earn your privileges. You never acted up after that again, he taught you relatively quickly that it wouldn't get you anywhere.

Wooyoung took his time just looking at you, at the start, it always made you uncomfortable when he just stared at you but now you got used to it. It didn't even surprise you anymore when he suddenly buried his face in the crook of your neck. Wooyoung wanted to touch you at all times be it hugging you or just holding hands with you. His favorite, however, was when you sat in his lap, where he could feel your warmth against him.

He held you for five more minutes before he sighed dramatically and removed himself from you. "I'm afraid I have to leave now." A pout formed on his lips as he jokingly said, "Don't miss me too much, all right?" He placed a kiss on your cheek before finally letting you off his lap.

You didn't say anything to him, but you didn't have to anyway, since in his mind he already knew that you would miss him. It didn't matter that it wasn't true and that in reality you always wished that he would never come back.

Wooyoung stood up grabbed his jacket and with a last wink your way he left the house. He often left and you always wondered where he would go, but questioning him about it was useless, he would always just playfully say that it was a secret. Nevertheless, you stopped caring about where he would go, because every time he left it felt like a weight was lifted off your chest and you could finally breathe again.

You glanced at Jongho who was still on his phone. Since that night he refused to talk to you, but it wasn't like you tried to talk to him in the first place.

"I didn't help him because I wanted to." Jongho's voice startled you, you realized that you almost forgot what he sounds like.

"I didn't ask." It came out colder than you intended to. Did he really expect that you would act like nothing happened after he helped Wooyoung abduct you and not speak to you for a whole year?

You made eye contact with him, with the anticipation of looking at his usual emotionless face, but it wasn't. Instead, he looked... kind of sad. However the sad expression was gone as fast as it came, or maybe it wasn't even there to begin with and you just imagined it. Jongho was not going to let it go, for some reason he was finally determined to tell you the truth. "You did ask!"

He was right, but that was at the very beginning. What was the point of telling you the truth now? You didn't care anymore, the only thing you wanted was to get back home, even if there was a little voice in your head that was telling you otherwise. You silently stared at him, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but your thoughts were a tangled mess and nothing could convey your feelings like you wanted it to.

Jongho, who took your silence as your approval for him to keep talking, took a long drawn out sigh before he started to tell you his side of the story. "To make it short, Wooyoung caught me with San's girlfriend." You didn't know what you were expecting but this for sure wasn't it. "He surprised us, killed her first, shoved the knife in my hands and threatened to tell the police that I did it if I don't do as he says."

You tried your best to keep your facial expressions in check, but Jongho knew what you were going to say because he was able to read you like a book, not just any book, but a picture book made for children. It was as clear as the day that you could not grasp Jonghos' way of thinking, nothing of this made sense to you. "So you just stood there and watched him kill her? You're stronger than him, you could've stopped him!"

"I know but it wasn't that easy!" His eyes were previously wandering around the room but were set on you now, for the first time during this conversation. "He's my friend... he is our friend. He is important to me and I know he is important to you too!"

"Jongho, what the hell!" You raised your voice a little bit and shook your head in disbelief, you couldn't understand his reasoning at all. "He was our friend, yes, but that doesn't excuse him for killing someone?!"

Hypocrite. Your inner voice kept repeating that word. You were lecturing Jongho about still seeing Wooyoung as a friend, while you were slowly falling in love with him. If you could even call those confusing feelings love.

"I know it doesn't, but don't tell me that you don't have the same conflicting feelings!"

"I don't." You stayed stubborn in your stance, Jongho didn't need to know about your feelings. "And even if I did, he literally killed people, in what world does him being our friend make this okay?!" You were repeating yourself, but talking to Jongho was like arguing with a wall. The same thing could be said about you too because both of you were standing your ground.

This is probably the most you've talked during this year. Wooyoung has had already mentioned multiple times about how you lost your quick-wittedness and joked that he would replace you with someone more exciting. You always forced a smile and told him to stop messing around, but secretly you were wishing that he would actually do it.

You were staring at each other, trying to intimidate the other into giving up, but you knew Jongho. He wasn't going to budge no matter how long you were trying to keep this up.

"And what about Yunho?" You now glared at him, while Jongho quickly broke the eye contact. "Tell me, is he not your friend? What exactly are your criteria here?"

He clenched his jaw and started to bite the inside of his cheeks. "I didn't kill him, did I," he quietly hissed and stubbornly redirected his gaze to stare at the TV. You didn't know that an advertisement about teeth whitening toothpaste could be this interesting.

"But you tried." Both of you stayed silent after that, but the tension was unbearable to you and you still had a question, so you broke the silence again. "What about me? Am I not your friend either?"

"You and Yunho are my friends, but so is Wooyoung!" He hissed again through clenched teeth. You had to withstand the urge to roll your eyes. Yes, you're such a great friend that you tried to kill one of them and abducted the other one, you wanted to say it out loud, but you held your tongue. "I didn't want this to happen!"

You couldn't help but snort. "How kind of you, at least you didn't want it to happen," your voice was dripping with sarcasm. You became bolder the more you noticed that he wasn't a threat, but just a loyal idiot. You almost nodded to yourself, loyal idiot seemed to perfectly describe him at this moment.

"If you really didn't want this to happen then let me go." Jongho's face hardened, he had always been scary when he put on his stern expression, but now it seemed to be on another level. "You're going to get a lesser sentence if you cooperate with the police, I'll even help you." His face stayed unchanged, but there was a small glint in his eyes, which could have been easily missed, but you saw it. He was considering it, but he didn't get to think about it any further.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something move in the window right by the front door. The door opened not even a second later, and revealed Wooyoung. He smiled as he came into the house. "I forgot my phone."

Now you saw it too, there it was, laying on the coffee table. You bit your lip and hoped that he didn't hear anything from your conversation from the outside. Wooyoung noticed the tension that filled the room as soon as he showed up, he slowly walked to the table and asked, "Did I interrupt something?"

He grabbed his phone and kept looking between you and Jongho waiting for an answer until his gaze finally settled on you after none of you answered him. "Well? Did I?"

You shook your head. "You didn't." But who were you trying to fool? Wooyoung knew that something was up just by looking into your eyes, they hadn't been this expressive in a long time. Wooyoung slowly came closer to you, you felt your shoulders tense up no matter how hard you tried to stay relaxed. His presence was unnerving, you didn't want to know what he would do if he found out what you were talking about.

"You wouldn't lie to me, right?~," he hummed melodically. He gently placed his index finger under your chin to lift your face up. You nodded but you couldn't hold the eye contact with him, so you looked at the wooden wall behind him. His face hardened, which you obviously couldn't see because apparently, the wall behind him was much more interesting than him.

Frustrated he bit his lip, he wanted to know what was going on, but he didn't have the time to discuss this out now. "We're going to talk about this later!" He pulled his hand back and looked at Jongho one more time before he left the house again.

You waited a minute before you tried to talk to Jongho again, but he had other plans. You barely opened your mouth when he abruptly stood up and went upstairs. The sound of his room door closing followed quickly after.

Defeated you sat there for a few minutes. The television was still showing a bunch of advertisements. You could feel the energy and adrenaline, which were previously running through your body, leave the more time passed. You eventually got up, turned the TV off, and went into your room too.

Your legs automatically carried you to the big bookshelf, which was filled to the brim with fantasy and romance books. They were already there when you arrived in this house and often left you wondering who it originally belonged to, and how Wooyoung knew that it would be safe here. The house in general was a really nice one, people would pay thousands for a house like that.

It was a big log cabin surrounded by forest and with a clear lake basically directly at the front door. All of the rooms were big and spacious, you couldn't believe that someone would just abandon a house like that. However Wooyoung refused to give you any information about the owners, or how he knew about the house.

You reached out for a book, which has caught your eye for a while now. "Cursed" was written in bold white letters on the spine. You pulled it out of its spot to inspect the cover and the summary. The story was about eight Pirates who had to break a curse, with the help of the daughter of a famous treasure hunter.

You spent the rest of the day on your bed reading said book. It quickly captured you in its world, to the point where you could almost taste the salty air of the sea on your tongue, and hear the creaking of the ship, as it sailed across the ocean.

The time flew by and you didn't even notice how it turned dark outside. That was until someone knocked on your door. Dread settled in the pit of your stomach, you didn't have to guess who it was. Wooyoung opened the door without waiting for your permission to enter. He strolled over to you and dramatically flopped down beside you on the bed.

He was pouting when he said, "You're sending more times with those books than with me!"

"Well, you're always gone the whole day. Am I supposed to just sit here and wait for you," you responded. You didn't take your eyes off of your book, despite having lost your concentration since Wooyoung entered the room.

He didn't say anything in return and you could finally stop reading the same sentence over and over again, and concentrate again.

Wooyoung was laying on his side with his head propped up in his hand, watching you. He didn't say anything and just observed how your eyes moved over the pages. The soft sound of you occasionally flipping a page filled the room. You didn't see it but had you looked out of the window you would have seen the small snowflakes falling through the light that was falling out of your window. This could have been a romantic moment if the person lying next to you wasn't your kidnapper.

After a while, you almost forgot about his presence, but it was almost as if he sensed it and he didn't like that you were forgetting him. "Do you have a wish for Christmas," he suddenly asked.

You stopped reading in order to look at him, you thought you misheard him, but it seemed as if he was waiting for an answer, so you did in fact not imagine it. It only took you a second and a short glance out of the window to know what you wanted. The snowflakes were now bigger and would definitely add a few centimeters to the already thick layer of fallen snow. You felt the desire to go outside and feel the cold air against your face and to breathe in the fresh air. "A visit to a Christmas Market." It was just a silly idea, and you didn't expect Wooyoung to agree to it. However, to your surprise, you heard him hum in agreement.

You turned your head so fast that you almost pulled a muscle. "Are you serious," you asked in disbelief.

"I'm serious, if you want to go, we'll go." His reassurance made you sit up straight, you closed your still open book without putting a tag between the pages and stared at Wooyoung as if he grew a second head.

He had a satisfied smirk on his lips, as he was finally able to draw a reaction from you. "Don't you want to know what my wish is?" Of course, you should have known that there was going to be a catch.

You sighed and asked, "What do you want?" It came out a lot harsher than you wanted it to be. Luckily for you, he didn't mind.

There was a playful glint in his eyes, you didn't even need to hear what he had to say, to know that it would be something bad for you. "You," he whispered. "All of you."

You froze, you knew that the time would come when he would not be satisfied anymore with just kissing and cuddling, but nothing could prepare you for the moment when he actually voiced it out. You didn't respond anymore, you were too stunned to say something and that held on until he finally left your room again. He winked at you before he left and his last words were, "Dream of me!"

Jongho got informed that you would visit a market, on the next day and he was not amused. You were all sitting in the living room when Wooyoung told him about the news, he first had the same look as you the day prior before it turned into pure anger. "What the hell are you thinking?!" You were a bit taken aback by his sudden outburst, you had expected this kind of reaction from Wooyoung, but not from him. Wooyoung seemed a bit surprised too, as he just let him continue speaking.

"We went through all of this for what?" It was a question but he didn't expect an answer. "Just for you to ruin it all by taking unnecessary risks?!" He bit his lower lip, his hands were clenched into a fist and with his eyes, he was staring daggers at Wooyoung.

Wooyoung sat up straight, his eyebrows were raised, silently asking if Jongho was questioning his authority. The latter wasn't too impressed and just hissed through clenched teeth, "You know who's in town right?"

"And who's fault is that," Wooyoung promptly asked. They stayed silent for a few seconds.

Jongho was the first one to break the staring contest, he practically jumped from his seat he was about to leave, but not without one last comment. "Why don't you just call the police already and safe us the trouble, huh?" And with that he left, the sound of his door slamming shut could be heard through the whole house just a few seconds later. Wooyoung didn't react to his provocation, but his mood was miserable for the rest of the day.

Christmas day arrived agonizingly slow and way too fast at the same time. You woke up with a stomach ache, whether it was from excitement or your anxiety, you didn't know. You were laying in your bed for a while, thinking about different plans and their outcome. Nothing seemed to have a 100% chance of working. You could ask a stranger for help, but what if they just ignored you, what if Wooyoung noticed what you were trying to do? Just running away seemed even worse, you doubted that you could outrun Wooyoung, but you had to try something. You would decide which plan to pursue, once you were there.

And what if you failed? It felt like someone punched you in the gut, once the thought occurred to you. Until now he had always accepted it when you said no, but would he take no for an answer again? How long would he wait until he just took what he wanted?

Until now you were staring blankly at the ceiling, but you had to screw your eyes shut. You were trying to push your thoughts to the back of your head, but it didn't help, they always came back to the surface. What if you didn't want to say no? You felt horrible, you shouldn't have those kinds of feelings for a killer and kidnapper.

After a while, you finally got up and went down to eat breakfast. You would need the energy for later. Jongho and Wooyoung were already sitting at the kitchen table when you came down, one of them had made scrambled eggs. The food on your plate was still steaming.

"Are you excited for today," Wooyoung asked as soon as you sat down next to him. Jongho who sat in front of you shook his head slightly, he still didn't like the idea.

You nodded and refrained from looking at him. You knew if you did catch a glance of him, you would feel those unwanted tingles in your lower stomach again. You could feel his burning stare on your face while you were eating, but you tried to ignore it as well as you possibly could. That was until he finally said something again. "I'm excited too."

You almost choked on your food, you didn't have to be a mind reader to know that he wasn't talking about the market. All he got from you was a quick glance at him before you continued to, now awkwardly, eat your food.

The day went by awfully slow, you kept checking the clock, which hung over the TV in the living room. It was as is the time had a personal vendetta against you and wanted to torture you with every second for as long as possible.

It wasn't until the time finally arrived, when you finally stood outside again, that you realized the gravity of this situation. You literally had to escape, or everything would be over. You didn't know how long you could resist Wooyoung. He was driving you crazy, and not in a good way.

The air was cold but fresh. The thick layer of snow was sparkling under the few sun rays that managed to slip through the cloudy sky. Every step you took resorted in the sound of the snow crunching under your weight. It was a beautiful winter day, you just wished that you could actually enjoy it. You were sweating even though it was cold, your hands were shaking because of your anxiety and your body was producing Adrenaline as if you were being chased by a Lion. You could only hope that Wooyoung wouldn't notice.

The drive to the town was quiet, at least between you two. Your mind, however, was very loud and busy, constantly creating new outcomes and their consequences and replaying them over and over again. The closer you got, the more you felt like throwing up, you were really tempted to just tell Wooyoung to turn around.

After all, all of the worrying you did was useless. The two of you were, of course wearing a mask and Wooyoung didn't let you out of his grasp just once, his arm was constantly around your waist holding you close to him. The Christmas market would've been great under different conditions. People were enjoying the holiday days, the air smelt like various foods and sweets. Every stand was decorated with lights and pretty ornaments, but you couldn't enjoy it. Not with Wooyoung by your side and the dooming knowledge, that he was pretty close to breaking you.

You had already accepted your fate, that was until you spotted a familiar figure. He was hard to miss because he was towering over everyone else and his hair was still the same shade of orange, with which you last saw him in person. You didn't need to see his face to know that it was Yunho. Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up, this was your chance. You were about to yell his name, but Wooyoung, who had spotted him at the same time as you did, was quick to stop that.

He put his hand over your mouth and discreetly but quickly pulled you to a more secluded area. "Were you trying to call him," he asked as soon as you were alone.

You of course shook your head, but Wooyoung was not having it. He only asked you because he wanted to give you a chance, to tell the truth, and you failed miserably. He knew you, and he knew what you were trying to do. The trip was cut short because of this incident. Wooyoung roughly grabbed you by your wrist, and pulled you after him, not caring if you could keep up with his fast pace.

The drive back was in complete silence too, but it was worse than the drive to the market. The air was filled with tension, and you had to live with the fact that you failed. Wooyoung didn't calm down during the whole drive back, he was clenching and unclenching his jaw and his knuckles turned white from his hard grip on the steering wheel. It was already dark when you arrived back 'home'.

There were different kind of ways of how silence could be described. Awkward silence, pleasant silence, sinister silence, and many more. However sinister would fit the most, had you had to describe the silence as you first walked into the log cabin again. For some reason, you knew immediately that Jongho was gone, which left you alone with an angry Wooyoung, but there was something else that you couldn't quite describe. It was as if the time was frozen, waiting for something.

Apparently, you were the only one who noticed the difference, because Wooyoung was entirely focused on his anger and you. He grabbed your wrist again as soon as he slammed the door shut, you winced at the sound and were surprised that he didn't take the door off its hinges. He continued to drag you after him, up the stairs and to his room, where he then proceeded to slam the door shut in the same manner as the front door.

He let go of you and you shuffled into the middle of the room, where you had some distance from him and couldn't be cornered by him. You stood there unsure, playing with the hem of your pullover until Wooyoung finally said something. "What were you talking about with Jongho, the other day?" This caught you off guard, you had expected him to ask you about the encounter with Yunho again, but not this. You assumed that he had forgotten about your conversation with Jongho.

"Nothing. Nothing important." You said.

He nodded slightly and let out a short quiet laugh before he fixes his cold gaze on you. "I decide what is important and what is not! What were you talking about?" The vein on his neck looked like it was about to pop, he just needed one more reason to set him off.

You considered lying to him, but it seemed pointless. He wouldn't stop pushing until you finally heave him the answer he wanted. Your eyes traveled down to the white square carpet, which you were standing on. It was a big contrast to the dark wooden floor it was lying on. "He-," you were ready to push all of the blame on him, but you reconsidered. "We were talking about leaving."

Wooyoung didn't seem to be surprised at all, he probably had already suspected it. All of a sudden he got closer to you and swiftly wrapped his hand around your neck. He didn't apply enough pressure to cut off your airway, but enough to hold you in place. You put both of your hands around his wrist and tried to pry him off, but he didn't move one bit. "I told you before, not to lie to me. Yet, you told me that you didn't want to leave." His eyes narrowed as he brought his face closer to yours, his lips were ghosting over yours when he whispered, "Are you trying to irritate me on purpose?"

He was dangerous his hand around your neck proved it once again. If he wanted to he could extinguish your life at any moment. All of those facts yet you still got those unwanted tingles in your stomach, because of his close proximity. He must have done it, he must have finally broken you, because you were sick in the head for still having feelings for him. You couldn't think straight, all you were thinking about was how close he was, and what would happen if you crossed the line and closed the gap between you.

"You belong to me, right?" He asked but it still sounded more like a statement. You nodded, it wasn't enough for Wooyoung though. "Then say it. Say that you belong to me."

"I belong to-" You didn't get any further. The door swung open and three armed police officers invaded the room.

"Hands over your head and get on your knees!" Commanded one of them, all three of them were pointing their weapons at Wooyoung, who was still holding you by your throat. "Don't make me repeat myself." He said after Wooyoung made no move to comply.

You were watching with wide eyes, you couldn't believe that you almost kissed him out of your own free will and you couldn't believe, that you were finally being rescued. Were you dreaming? No, this was real. Wooyoung slowly removed his hand from your neck and followed the orders he was given, but not without glaring at them the whole time. If looks could kill they wouldn't be standing anymore.

"Y/N right?" The same officer addressed you now.

Still in shock, you could only manage to whisper a small, "Yes." You cringed at the sound of your voice. It sounded hoarse, even to your own ears.

The officer didn't take his eyes or his weapon off of Wooyoung. "Go outside. Your family is waiting in front of the house." Your Family. Everything felt surreal, after a year you had given up on the idea that someone was going to come and save you. Especially after your most recent failure at the market.

You weren't dreaming, right? Your legs felt like jelly with every step you took, until you finally reached the front door, which was left wide open. Two police cars were standing outside with their lights on, the blue and red lights were reflecting on the glittering snow. Your body reacted automatically when you ran up to your parents once you spotted them. Your parents were both shedding tears when they finally held you in their arms again, but for some reason, you didn't. It wasn't that you weren't happy to see them again, however it wasn't enough to make you cry.

Yunho and Mingi were there too, you finally acknowledged them when your parents released you of their crushing hug. Yunho was the next one who you pulled into a hug. You came to the conclusion that he must have called the police, he must have seen you back then. "Thank you," you mumbled into his chest.

"What did I do to deserve a Thank you," He asked.

Confused you pulled a bit back to look at him. Yunho had his head cocked to the side and looked at you with the same kind of confusion. "I thought... you called the police."

Both of you stayed quiet for a second before he slowly shook his head. "How would I have known that you're here?" So he wasn't the one who brought you back your freedom, but then who else?

Mingi had already opened his arms, pouting and waiting for his hug when you let go of Yunho, but you had your attention elsewhere. Wooyoung was being led outside the house, his face didn't show any emotions, as if he didn't just get caught and ruined his entire life. He didn't even spare you another glance, as he was forced inside in one of the police cars.

Your eyes wandered to the second car. The flickering lights were illuminating the inside just enough for you to recognize a silhouette on the backseat. Jongho. He was staring straight ahead, unmoving, as if he wasn't even present. The gears in your head started turning, if it wasn't Yunho, then it must have been Jongho, who helped you.

You didn't have time to think about it more because Mingi, who was still impatiently waiting for his hug had enough of waiting. He pulled you into him. "Mingi! You're crushing me!" You tried to get some space, but he didn't budge.

"I missed you idiot so much." You couldn't see him, since your face was squashed against his chest, but you knew that he was crying because of his shaky voice. You stopped struggling against him and soothingly pat his back until he was ready to face you again. "I'll never leave your side again!" It sounded a bit like a threat, but it made you smile nonetheless. The feeling of peace overcame you, a feeling you haven't felt during the past year.

Ten months past since you gained your freedom back. Your life became somewhat normal again, and you started to see a therapist, to handle and overcome your gained trauma from the past events. However, you still felt uneasy when Autumn arrived again, and with it, Halloween too. Everyone was preparing for it, everyone except you, your family, and your friends. With every day did your stomach ache get worse until Halloween arrived again. You and your family, including friends, decided to spend the day together.

The day was going well until the news came on. You were all sitting together in the living room when the reporter announced, "Breaking News! Jung Wooyoung, who has been arrested for murder and kidnapping, broke out of prison. The police are feverishly searching for the convicted killer. Please contact the police, should you have any clues on his whereabouts."

Your blood ran cold, and you could feel your heart rate pick up. You didn't know if it were your parents or Mingi who tried to talk and soothe you. In the end, it didn't matter. No words could calm you down anyway, not when Wooyoung was roaming around somewhere out there. He was determined to get you back, determined to never let this nightmare end. You would never be able to sleep properly again, for as long as he was alive.

Tag: @belle643

#ateez imagines #yandere ateez #ateez yandere #ateez x reader #yandere wooyoung x reader #yandere wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #yandere ateez x reader

[isthisfree]

WIP Wednesday

Obi-Wan had learned to crochet, not knit, when he was seven years old. A visiting Master had been assigned to the creche and thought it would be a good skill to teach the younglings. They had been told it could help their fine motor skills, patience, and perseverance. Obi-Wan now thinks the Master should have added restraint to the list. Over the years Obi-Wan has had to restrain himself from buying every shade and variation of yarn he comes across, restrain himself from taking on too many projects or giving unrealistic deadlines to his friends’ requests, and the hardest one of all, restrain himself from taking his crochet hook and stabbing every single person, who no matter how often they have been corrected, still calls it knitting, right in their apparently useless eye. 

Obi-Wan eyed the hook in his hand, and mused that he could probably pop someone’s eyeball right out of their socket if he was so inclined, but luckily for the uncultured masses he could control his more murderous impulses. If he became truly irked though, he could always sic Anakin on them. His former Padawan would probably relish an opportunity to maim someone with a crochet hook. And what kind of Master would Obi-Wan be if he didn’t provide fun and enriching experiences from time to time? 

He looked up from the blanket he was working on for Ahsoka and caught sight of his reflection in the window. Blast. He was smiling, again. Obi-Wan forced himself to frown and turn his thoughts away from Anakin and back to the blanket for his Grand-Padawan. It had been happening more and more lately, his mind would betray him. Whenever Obi-Wan’s thoughts began to drift they would inevitably land on Anakin.

That in and of itself wouldn't be so bad, nothing to get worked up about. Anakin is an important - the most important really, part of his life. Of course he thinks about him! The issue was that his thoughts were becoming less and less...platonic in nature. But he reasoned, that doesn’t necessarily mean they were romantic thoughts or…lustful thoughts. No. There has to be a level between purely platonic and romantic, right? He shook his head. Best not to dwell, ignorance is bliss and all that. 

Obi-Wan tugged on his yarn. It didn’t budge. He signed. Of course his yarn was tangled. How could he expect anything to go smoothly when his own mind was such a mess. Meditation had not given him his usual amount of comfort. And why would it? His face twisted with self loathing. Of course he couldn’t successfully give his feelings for Anakin, because if he was honest they are romantic feelings, to the force, if deep down he didn’t want to let them go. He was a failure of a Jedi, a Master, and a friend. 

He pushed the blanket aside. He might need to scrap this project all together and start from scratch. Qui-Gon had always maintained that the recipients of gifts such as these could sense what the maker was feeling as they worked. Obi-Wan never really believed Qui-Gon, but he had never received a handmade blanket, scarf, poncho, or stuffed animal to test the theory. He was properly horrified though at even the smallest chance that poor Ahsoka might pick up on his inappropriate feelings. He would rather burn it to ash than have that happen. 

Ok, definitely time to take of break if he is contemplating arson. Obi-Wan stood and picked up the half finished blanket and his supplies, carefully storing them away in the custom caf table Anakin had made for him. It was full of drawers and compartments, big and small, designed to hold his yarn, hooks, stitch markers, scissors, really anything he could ever need for a project. Obi-Wan slowly ran his hand over the top of the table, before snatching it away. This was truly getting pathetic. Trying to sense his Padawan’s potential feelings for him from furniture. If this wasn’t rock bottom, Obi-Wan didn’t want to know what was. 

He needed to get out of their apartment, get his body moving and quite his mind. Obi-Wan clipped on his saber and headed out the door, his feet pointing him in the direction of the training salles. If this just happened to be the time that Anakin usually tended to be there himself, well that was just a coincidence, nothing more.

#obikin #wip wednesday