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niefics · 3 months

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The big deal — P.JS X FEM!READER

Sypnosis : Reader really doesn’t like her boss, and her boss thinks it’s cute when she’s upset.

Warnings : smut, cursing, arguing, y/n is stressed, jay is 27 and reader 24.

“What no .. that’s .. that’s not fair!” You spoke, finally half way snapping talking back at your boss. “What’s not fair? Please explain it to me.” Your boss, Mr. Park spoke, his head tilting to the right a little lifting his eyebrows slightly, as his arms were crossed.

“Why are you making me do this project by myself ? You know when it comes to projects like these, you need more then one person on the presentation!” You spoke, frustrated already. The work day just starting. “I gave you this project for a reason, I took you liking to work by yourself into consideration.”

“Yeah when it comes to working on small things, how do you think i’m gonna bag a deal with a presentation that needs tone of research? I can’t calculate all of this by myself.” You spoke. “Listen, just start on the project, and come talk to me in my office during your lunch and we can sort everything out okay ?.” He spoke, looking at your whipping our his watch and looking at the time. “I have a meeting a need to head to, so I don’t have much time for arguing.” He spoke walking away. He sighed harshly, walking back to your seat frustrated from the work day. At this moment you just wanted a glass of wine or a hot bath when you got home.

You moved companies, and ever since you’ve been so stressed, having to move cities and now all your boss seems to do is stress you out. You started to plan out how you were gonna start working on the presentation. You were thinking about starting with the hardest parts which was the calculations and the research so everything would just have to be typed up. As you looked at the time, it was your lunch. You really didn’t want to spend your 15 minute break arguing with your boss, but you got up and headed to his office.

You knocked on his office door, flipping your hair behind your shoulder. Mentally preparing yourself for any bullshit he said. The door opens, jay out of his suit coat, his black button up not being buttoned up all the way, he smiled letting you in. “I’m glad you decided to come to my office so we could talk more.” He spoke moving to the side as you walked in. “I just wanted to ask a few questions.” You spoke calmly walking in.

“Have you started on the presentation?” He asked sitting at his desk. “Mm, not really besides the calculating and doing research.” You spoke, walking over to his desk sitting at an empty chair, your legs crossed. “I just.. want to know why you have just me on this ?” I spoke looking at him, your hands interlocked in your lap. “Well, I think with your smarts, and your good looks that the deal will go well. Could be your biggest deal of your career.” He spoke, you lifted your eyebrows leaning closer to him. “Hu- huh? My biggest ..? And you trust me, a new comer to the company to do this by myself ?” You spoke, astonished by his trust in you. He smiled attractively, leaning back in his seat.

“You seem like a good arguer, that’s what I need y/n! The way you argued for things to be better in the office for you and for others a while back gave me the reason to have this idea. Your looks just add on, your big doe eyes will definitely have them wanting the deal.” He laughed a little sipping his coffee. “If you win us this deal, I give you a raise and a better spot in the company okay ?” He spoke, putting his coffee down looking away from me at his desk infront of him. “Huh .. ? A- a raise ?” You bit your lip thinking about it. “How much are we speaking?” You spoke lifting an eyebrow. “Double your pay- triple if you do extra well!” That would be the most you’ve ever been paid, double pay could be to that bag you’ve been looking at, or even can be put towards a vacation with your friends. Either way you were all in.

“I’ll have the presentation prepared, memorized, and ready. I better get that pay.” You spoke getting up and walking out of his office, maybe if things go good you get that raise. But for now you’re staying late at work to make sure this is perfect.

It’s the 4th night you’ve stayed passed your hours just to make sure this presentation was perfect. You finally started typing everything down. A concentrated look sat on your face. You hear footsteps coming near you, you ignore them and only looked when you heard a similar voice. It was Mr. Park. “Youre still here ? Your staying later then me, you should head home. Work on it tomorrow.” Jay spoke, he had everything ready for him to go for the night. His glasses sat on his face nicely, his coat was on as he had his bag full of important work in there as well. “No.. I have to finish this have and I’ll go, I’ll be fine.” You spoke in not interested tired sounding tone. “No, come on, you need a break for tonight go home take a nice shower sleep well.” He spoke helping you pack up, you sighed getting up and closing your computer.

You two walked into the car garage, to see little cars there but yours. Jays expensive car very noticeable in view compared to your car you’ve had since you started collage, and it starting to mess up a little. “Listen go home, sleep, and don’t disappoint me on that meeting in two weeks!” He spoke walking away to his car. You nodded. Walking into your car

It finally came to the day of the presentation, you stress levels some how rising higher then ever. You weren’t really able to sit down all morning, you did a few touch ups on the presentations and memories everything, you wore your best work causal outfit, framing your body well. Jay came out of his office noticing, walking over. “Hey, everything okay ?” You nodded, “I have a lot on my shoulders thinking about what could go wrong with the presentation.” He shook his head. “Nothing is gonna go wrong don’t overthink.” Somehow, when you’re stressed you look 1000 times cuter especially to jay, if it wasn’t for the busy day he would’ve took you back to his office to help you relieve stress. He’s seen you stress a lot this past month, he had faith that you would get that deal.

“I don’t know if it’s because this presentation was amazing or you’re just really well with your words.. but you got a deal.” You smiled, relieved, jay watched from the side grateful that you actually came through. Leaving the conference room, your walk confident and sexy. The whole office celebrated, you getting the deal, as you were speaking a hand rested in your shoulder as someone spoke in your ear. “Meet me in my office.” It was jay, and just as soon as you turned around he was already walking away.

He texted you to come after you shift, so when you headed to your office everyone was leaving to head home already. You knocked on his office door, he opened the door, his shirt unbuttoned enough for you to go insane. Jay looked out behind you scoping the scenery out before planting a soft but passionate kiss on your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist perfectly, pulling you into his office and closing the door. You hands were wrapped around his neck. The kiss lingered for a little to long in your opinion, it lingered so long you were sitting in his desk as you started unbuttoning your shirt. “Mr park..” you whined as you felt him move his lips down to your lips, your hand on his wrist to get him to stop unbuttoning your to listen to your. “You did a good job y/n, this was a big deal for you and the company.” He spoke moving his hand to chin tilting it to look at him. “Do you know what people get for being good ?” “A promotion ?” You spoke, your lips swollen and your lipstick smeared. “Mm, better in my opinion.” He spoke, he had a look of lust on his face.

You realized what he was talking about, shaking your head excessively. “No not here, you have paper work on your desk.” You spoke looking back, to see your hands resting on a few papers. “Okay? Then ride my lap. We’ll just have to be careful and you’ll have to be quiet for me.” “What? No! Not-“

You skirt was now up covering your stomach as your panties were pulled to the side as your rode jay. Moaning into the kisses uncontrollably. You had to admit you’ve never ridden before let alone at work so he had to guide you, hands griping at your sides, moving your up and down and you swayed your hips back words.

“Let me buy you dinner after this.” He groaned out looking into your fucked out eyes. You were struggling to be quiet, using kissing and kissing his neck to try and keep you occupied from doing so but him wanting to start a conversation while you’re on the verge of covering his dick with cum more then it already was, was baffling to you. “I.. I don’t- fuck! I don’t know ..” You struggle to say without letting the loudest moan or whine out.

Your bouncing paste quickened as jay met your hips with his thrusting just as fast hitting your g spot. Wet noises louder then you were, at least what you felt like. “L..ook at me.” He groaned, getting closer to hitting his climax, you looked down at jay. His fucked out face, made you clench harder then you already were, you legs soar from all the bouncing you were doing .. you wanted to stop but it felt too good too.

The knot in your stomach snapped, the amount curse words you let out into his ear, made him just want to kiss your cheek. You paused for a moment giving yourself a smile break before continuing to bounce, feeling jay get close to his climax. “Ca.. an- I?” He fought out. “Yes please, please fill me.” In that moment he came, a warm sensation in filled your cunt. You two kissing sloppily as he came.

“Cmon y/n, let me get you dinner or at least let me cooking something for you.” He spoke, cleaning you off with napkins, he would’ve done more if there was more for him to use. “I don’t know Mr-“ he smiled. “Just.. just call me jay when we’re like this.” You laughed softly. “Well.. jay, I don’t know, we’ve done a lot.”

“Trust me, I want to do more.”

#enhypen smut #kpop smut #jay x you #jay x reader #jay fanfic #jay smut #jay ff #jay hard hours

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whitmore · 4 months

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fitmc madagio lore full transcript under the cut bc it’s so so interesting and also for community archival purposes

FIT: I saw you 200 blocks away. You aren’t sneaky.

FIT: If you’re new, I have nothing for you.

FIT: Here, it’s every person for themselves

FIT: Now, fuck off.

FIT: Still there?

FIT: I guess you want to learn the hard way.

FIT: ??!????

FIT: … who are you?

FIT: … what is your name?

FIT: … where exactly did you come from?

MADAGIO: Do not be afraid.

MADAGIO: Allow me to congratulate you.

MADAGIO: An ordinary human would’ve been driven to madness in a place like this.

MADAGIO: A toxic wasteland, one of the worst I’ve seen.

MADAGIO: I can see it in your eyes.

MADAGIO: Your aggression serves to hide the pain of the unimaginable horrors you have witnessed, and judging by your looks, perhaps perpetuated?

MADAGIO: I’ve been seeking someone with your level of mental fortitude…..

MADAGIO: The ability to resist both madness and toxicity.

MADAGIO: I detected the remnants of a very powerful signal in this world, so I came to investigate.

MADAGIO: I guess it would be a good place to look for people like you and I was right.

FIT: Sounds like bullshit to me.

MADAGIO: Apologies. Allow me to introduce myself.

MADAGIO: I am known as Madagio. are used to live on an island. It was one of many… All connected together by the same system. The island that was my home well….. let’s just say… things happened. Ever since I’ve gained the ability to travel across worlds, in search of skilled survivalists and deceivers, people who can hide in plain sight in extreme conditions. Judging by your age, you’ve survived here for a very long time. Perhaps you are interested in a change of scenery. If you are, meet me at the location in that book. We can discuss more there.

[BOOK READS: Meet me in the ruins of the obsidian outpost to the south. / Look underneath the red beacon. / I’ll be waiting…..]

—

FIT: That sounded like an end portal! What’s going on??!?!?

—

MADAGIO: You’ve arrived quickly, excellent. I see you noticed my friends on the way here. They are my eyes and ears; an extension of me. Now listen carefully. I would like to offer you a job Fit. One of the islands in the system I spoke of earlier is named Quesadilla. It’s a beautiful place, but it hides many secrets. Secrets that I must have at all costs. They will soon be accepting visitors for the first time in many years. right now the only way onto the island is by train. Most of the tickets have already been given out. However….. I can arrange for you to receive one. To keep your cover, you will need to act like you are on a vacation. Once you arrive on the island, I want you to start collecting information. Player data, island statistics, the emotions of your neighbors… …and analytical data on how it all connects together.

FIT: Player data? Statistics? Why do you want that stuff?

MADAGIO: In time it will make sense. As you collect it, I want you to report your findings to me. It may be difficult given the island’s current isolation, but you’ll find a way. A wasteland nomad like you traveling to Quesadilla will be very unexpected. Which is why I want you to blend in. Become friends with your neighbors. You might even know some of them already, so it should be easy. But do not form attachments, it will only complicate things. You are there for a very specific purpose. While you are on Quesadilla… I will be elsewhere, making preparations for something very important. You will have exactly one year to accomplish this task. if you are successful, your payment will ensure you have an early retirement. If you are unable to complete it in that time, I may have to help you… But let me make something very clear. Should you disregard the mission entirely… Or attempt to cheat me… I will ensure you spend the rest of your life in this toxic and vile waste land. Doomed to wander, and die in obscurity… And anyone who made connections with on Quesadilla will suffer. This is not a game to me. These, as I have stated, are the terms of this contract. If you step through the portal, it means you accept. But there is no turning back. Shall we begin?

FIT: 10 years is a long time to be stuck in the same wasteland. You know what I need? A vacation.

—

FIT: Finally, I can remember your name.

FIT: I care about the people on this island. I’ll complete the job, but you better not be using their data to do harm.

#qsmp #eleanor.txt #fitmc #qsmp madagio #i did this half by hand and half by dictation so if i messed something up please lemme know i’ll edit the post #qsmp fit #go ham w this btw i did it for the people

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neos127 · 22 days

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WHY HER? — SIM JAEYUN (chapter eighteen)

pairing. idol!jake x fem!fan!reader synopsis. in the most cliche way, jake falls for a fan of his. y/n just has to decide if she’s able to handle being apart of his life. notes. last chap…

Y/N was sweating from nerves. Jake was about to arrive at any moment and she felt sick. The feeling reminded her of when the two first started hanging out, which brought a small slice of comfort.

Y/N was sure that she readjusted her outfit and seating position multiple times before she heard the click of the front door opening. Jake walked in with a small backpack slung around his arm, but it was immediately dropped to the floor when he saw Y/N sitting at the kitchen island. The two stared at each other for what felt like hours, before Jake finally broke the silence.

“You came back.” He stated, his voice cracking slightly. Jake didn’t want to become emotional in front of her again, but the boy felt as if he could cry from how happy he was. Y/N nodded, hesitantly walking up to him with the flowers.

“Happy birthday.” Y/N spoke up, mentally preparing to give the long speech she had planned out in her head. But before the younger girl could open her mouth, Jake brought her into a hug, making the flowers fall to the floor. He gripped her closely, as if she would disappear if he let go.

“I’m so sorry, Jake.” Y/N mumbled, feeling tears fall down her face and onto Jake’s jacket. The boy shushed her, patting the top of her head in reassurance. He knew that Y/N probably felt guilty, but he had never expected her to mend their relationship in person.

“I know you might still be upset, and I’m so sorry for that. I never wanted to hurt you, I was just being stupid. I was only thinking about myself and that wasn’t fair.” Y/N explained, already forgetting her speech and just letting her heart speak for itself.

“I don’t think I ever stopped loving you, and not being in your arms like this for months was really hard.” She continued, her voice wavering as more tears fell. Jake pulled away with a surprised look.

“You love me?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he wiped Y/N’s tears away.

“I do, I really do and I’m sorry I never got to tell you. I should’ve said it back and then we could’ve figured something out but—” Jake cut off Y/N’s rambling, shushing her quietly.

“I know how you were treated, Y/N/N. I don’t blame you for leaving, and if you want to do that again then be my guest. I’m just glad I get to see you right now.” Jake explained, looking at you with sad eyes. He was way too considerate for his own good and it made Y/N’s heart beat ten times faster.

“I don’t think I can ever walk out on you again. Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me and I won’t take that for granted again.” Y/N said to Jake, reaching up to push stray hairs away from his face. The boy couldn’t help but smile at the contact, missing her touch more than anything.

“So then…I can be your boyfriend again?” Jake asked, looking at the girl with hopeful eyes. Y/N nodded excitedly, giggling when Jake’s smile widened. He leaned down to kiss her, savoring the feeling of her lips against his after months of being apart.

Y/N pulled away slightly when she felt tears fall against her face. She wiped under Jake’s eyes with her sleeve before leaving a kiss on his nose. The boy couldn’t help but let a few tears slip, feeling overjoyed at the thought of Y/N being his again. He hadn’t been himself for a while, to the point where everyone around him noticed. But seeing the love of his life waiting for him in his dorm after being apart for a while made every emotion he had come crashing down.

“Please don’t cry, you’re gonna make me cry too.” Y/N groaned, making Jake giggle and pull her back into his arms. The two stood there for a while, slowly rocking back and forth while holding onto each other as if they never would again.

“We’re going to be okay, Y/N. We’ll figure everything out.” Jake spoke after a while, still holding Y/N close and stroking her hair. The girl nodded against his shoulder before letting out a small sigh.

“I know. But this time i’m willing to do whatever it takes to be with you. Even if I have to withstand more spitting on my shoes.” Y/N replied, a teasing smile on her face.

“I’m sorry you have to go through that, love.” Jake mumbled, moving his hand down to her back to run soothing circles.

“It’s alright. It’s worth it for the most incredible boy I’ve ever met.”

BONUS.

“You didn’t even see the spider-man flowers I got you.” You whined, pointing to the crumbled mess on the ground. Jake gasped, dropping to his knees as he tried to fix the bouquet.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just got so excited. This is really cool by the way, you’re too good to me.” Jake apologized, standing up with the flowers and giving you a sheepish smile. You let out a small laugh, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“You’re lucky I love you, Sim Jaeyun.”

“Do you mind saying that again…and maybe fifty more times? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

A/N. and that is it for ‘why her?’!! i’m so sorry if this chapter seems rushed i honestly just rlly wanted to finish it and get it out there. i hope you guys enjoyed and im rlly thankful for everyone who’s been following along! i love reading your comments it makes my day <3

previous | masterlist | the end :)

taglist. @junityy @super-amberlynn @jvjsssnaa @dreamiesformula @deepdeancloudspy @syazzzlisa @nnana2 @hkkbrosdienagge @iheartjayke @chappellraon @yelshin @yunville @4xiaojun @ramenoil @desistay @mandoscyare @nikiswifereal27 @mitchii @eternallyhyucks @bgomtori @woninluv @theyluvfrankocean @iilwji @herebyaccident0 @geombyu @vixensss @oldjws @moon4moony @kimsunoops @sainthoma @rosas-in-the-garden @shiikan0iin @skz8love @lycxee @chloelr60

#enha #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha smau #enha reactions #enha jake #jake sim x reader #sim jake imagines #sim jake smau #sim jaeyun x reader

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bi-hop · 11 months

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why the vulture scene in atsv is pure horror (spoilers under the cut)

As promised, I now have the mental bandwidth to actually talk about Adriano Tumino aka the Medieval Vulture in Across the Spiderverse. This is a spoiler fest, so I'm putting everything under the cut. Enjoy!

So, at some point when I was younger, I first heard about Flatland. It's this satirical novella from 1884. When I was looking it up again last night to prepare myself to explain it to other people, I was SHOCKED to hear it was satire on Victorian society and class structures. I had only ever heard about it in science and horror spaces. As a work, it's mainly known now for exploring the idea of 4th dimensions before Einstein, but it also continues elements that are straight out of horror. So, instead of breaking down the whole thing, I'm going to be focusing on that stuff specifically.

Flatland is about A. Square (yes, that's his name), who is a square. As you can imagine, his entire world is two-dimensional and functions as such. There's a lot of worldbuilding, but just keep in mind that

The people in his world cannot conceive of a 3rd dimension, and any mention of such is heretical.

Circles are the highest ranked people in this world.

One day, he encounters what he thinks is a circle. Said character is actually a sphere. Even as said sphere fucks with his perception by looking like disks sliding in and out of reality and tells him about the 'truth' of the world, A. Square can't comprehend the third dimension until his teacher lifts him into it, into Spaceland. The square is enlightened! His mind has been opened! He tells the sphere, if his reality is false and there's truly a third dimension, what if there are more? What if a fourth dimension exists with fourth dimensional beings who cannot be accurately perceived?

His teacher immediately casts him back down into Flatland, where he is subsequently imprisoned. No one believes that the third dimension and Spaceland exist. He only is able to write the novella and hope that one day Flatland will be ready for this knowledge.

All of this to say that Adriano is A. Square.

I read a lot of dimension-based horror. Maybe it's because the multiverse has compelled me since I was a kid, or maybe it's because I've heard way too many thought experiments about how every person on the planet may see the world differently, and we just use the same language to describe fundamentally different visuals because we can't accurately verify anything. The horror of it all, for both readers and writers, isn't necessarily the idea of seeing things others can't. At least, it's not in the hands of someone sincerely thinking about the 'eldritch'. Instead, imagine a higher being grabbing you and exposing you to a whole new, weighty aspect of reality you could never conceive without actively being dragged into it. And then you're thrown back into your reality. It consumes you, drives you, and no one believes you. How can they, when it's something so alien to your reality that no one can even think of it unless shown?

Because of the ripple effects of the collider, Adriano Tumino is dragged into Earth-65, the home of Spider-Woman (Gwen Stacy). We don't know a lot about his world. As far as I remember, we don't even get a number designation. But his design, dialogue, and track all communicate a great deal about him. Vulture Meets Culture as a track blends Gwen's theme with the sort of opera he might listen to back home. He's designed heavily on the aesthetics of Da Vinci notebooks. As he affects the world, you can even see notations a la research scribbles next to diagrams. From memory alone, disregarding the fact that he's Italian (though I'm sure the insistence on English in Earth-65 was probably disorientating if his entire world speaks Italian), he also finds this new reality to be abhorrent and lashes out. This alone, an exposure to new colors and strange art and even weirder people who look nothing like you and the rest of your world, would be hard enough to cope with.

And then Miguel, this Spider-Man from 2099, drags Adriano out into the modern day.

The thing with movies being in theaters is that I'm at the mercy of random people who film showings on their phone to get footage. Because everyone finds the helicopter scene directly after this more interesting (which is valid), I don't have a picture of this moment. But when Adriano is flying out into this future, when he lays his eyes on these towering skyscrapers alight with color, you can see his shock, perhaps even terror. It'd be rough enough being exposed to a version of Italy that's, say, his time period but in technicolor. But this is worse. This is his Spaceland moment. The opera builds almost mournfully.

Soon, he will be sent back to his reality. This will happen in an even more incomprehensible future dimension, with even more people who look nothing like him. Perhaps there's a version of his granddaughter there. Tiana Tumino? It doesn't matter. Imagine this though. Your grandfather is yanked out of existence. He comes back. And he tells you 'I have seen colors beyond the ones we live in. I have seen towers of glass and metal scraping the sky, all alight in these colors. I have seen art that contains more art, and it was hideous. No one understood me. Flying things neared me that were beyond anything even our greatest geniuses can make.'

Do you believe him? Can you even imagine it all, even if he describes it, even if he shows you drawings of what he witnessed?

What will you say?

#adriano tumino #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #medieval vulture #marvel meta #earth 65 #miguel o'hara #gwen stacy #tiana toomes #okay enough fandom tags #ending off with that miles picture bc it's also his first time entering a dimension #and sure enough. shock and awe

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ravenwoodalum · 5 months

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on karamelle, why it sucks, and redeeming azteca's reputation.

I just got to Karamelle for the second time, and good lord. I hadn't forgotten how much I hated it, but it hit me like a wall of bricks. And I'm already preparing myself to marathon it and be fucking done questing here for at least a year.

I think it breaks down like this.

Baby's first workers rights movement/sugary-sweet surveillance state Listen. I know this is a game that doesn't allow for player characters to have much individual impact on the in-game narrative. I know we've had to do errands for cops. I know we work for a war criminal. I KNOW there are flaws in the system. But there's something about the way that Karamelle's set up that makes it all feel so. much. worse. And that's the fact that Karamelle has such a stellar reputation within the Spiral before this. The happiest place in the Spiral, the sweetest treats in the Spiral. Everyone seems to fucking love this place. Almost no one outside of those actually working there seem to understand how corrupt it is. And so the YW is talked down to at every turn, like this is their first exposure to a corrupt environment. And sure, maybe it is within, canon. YW gets isekai'd at a very young age and then made into a child soldier, maybe this is actually the first time in canon that they've been introduced to these concepts. But (and this may just be me) it feels really rude to the player -- who might actually have experience with these ideas -- to make them feel like a fucking idiot with the dialogue options. Karamelle's characters just feel rude.

Oh, so the Gobblers were a fatphobic, Roald Dahl type thing from the start. Cool cool cool. Any of you ever read Roald Dahl's book "The Twits"? It's a very unremarkable story all things considered, except for this bit.

Aside from Roald Dahl's unavoidable history of antisemitism, does this remind you of anything? Honestly, this reminds me of the Gobbblers.

We first meet the Gobblers around level 10 in Wizard City -- creatures driven by consumption. And then we get to Empyrea and hear that the Alphoi -- skinny "civilized" creatures -- can become Gobblers if they eat too much or are unhealthy in their eating habits. Which makes one of our oldest running enemies a loop-around fatphobic thing, ESPECIALLY when we get to them in Karamelle, the home world of the Gobblers. Rosina, especially, just oozes fatphobia and diet culture. The literal vilification of being fat isn't even subtext, it's just text.

The Old One, The Cabal, and what to do when your escape from the world ends up shoving what you were escaping from right back in your face. When I was in sophomore year of college, fall of 2019, I had one of the worst mental health periods of my life. Antisemitism was fucking everywhere, I was always a moment away from a panic attack, and it felt like no one understood. While I'm lucky in the fact that I was able to get an official diagnosis for genetically inherited PTSD, alongside the reassurance that I wasn't fucking crazy, there was a period when I just needed to go home for a moment. So when I was going back to my dorm from the dining hall to make sure all my stuff was ready to go, I opened up tumblr and made a post on a long-gone RP sideblog I had for the Swedish Chef (y'know, from The Muppets? long story), and before I'd even gotten halfway across campus, I'd received threatening and violent messages from someone RPing as Borat, which only got worse when they realized they were talking to an actual Jewish person.

That escape from reality didn't even last five fucking minutes before the horrors I was trying to avoid found me.

Now, Wizard101 has always been a source of comfort for me. I made my account fourteen years ago, and I do not know what my life would look like if I hadn't done that. There are flaws with this game, yes, sure, but over the past five years (since I got a wiz compatible laptop) I've developed a bit of a reliance on it to get me through the horrors. No better form of escapism.

But no art form is free of the horrors.

And Wizard101 has the fucking Cabal and Old One.

The Cabal within the fiction of Wizard101 is a secret, nefarious organization pulling the strings on events across the Spiral, controlling history from the shadows. This term literally originates in antisemitic conspiracy theory, with the term 'cabal' originating from the term for Jewish mysticism, 'kabbalah'. And I promise you, you've heard plenty of applications of this conspiracy theory in real life too. It feeds into the idea that Jews (or 'global elite') control the government, the media, the banks.

And then, we get to the man in control of it all. The Old One. Whether or not this was intended, he's a walking, talking antisemitic caricature. The octopus as a symbol for the mythical Elders of Zion is a longstanding dogwhistle (see attached for a guide to this and many other visual dogwhistles). "Oh, he's based on H.P. Lovecraft-" So he's based on the works of a famous racist and antisemite, cool cool cool.

It's just exhausting, walking through a world that is so clearly modeled after Germany and other parts of eastern Europe, and finding antisemitism around every corner. And even more exhausting considering it's almost impossible to tell if they meant to do it. Antisemitism is so fucking ingrained in the world at this point that I don't actually know what they meant to do here, what they did maliciously or out of ignorance, or if any of it was put in with the purpose of turning it on its head. Over the past few years, it has become glaringly obvious that a lot of people don't realize when they're running across antisemitism, or even taking part in it. Including people I really thought would know better.

Side note. For those of you who know I see Dasein as Jewish, you may be wondering how I balance that out with the antisemitic nature of The Old One, since they share a physical form. I think of it like this. Dasein did not choose The Old One. He did not choose to resemble that, but he can attempt to reclaim it. Dasein's Judaism comes not from the resemblance he holds to the hatred that haunts us, but from the love that keeps us going. He questions authority and longstanding tradition, chooses to do what's right instead of what's expected, and is kind in the face of hatred. He literally makes himself, and a world, out of nothingness. Something out of Nothing. He's so Jewish you guys.

The Spiral's "Worst World Award" goes to... I know we all say "fuck Azteca" pretty often on this website, but I don't think it deserves to be deigned the worst world in Wiz. My main gripe with Azteca is how inaccessible it gets after Xibalba strikes -- the flashing lights aren't exactly photosensitive friendly. Which further lends frustration to my completionist nature, meaning I have to finish all quests, badges, and fishing before I finish the world (making it take forever to finish). Aside from that, there really isn't that much wrong with the world (and if you argue that it sucks because you can't save Azteca, I get it, but some tragedies are inescapable by their very nature). It's a problem of gameplay, versus a problem of plot in the case of Karamelle. And maybe its just because I'm a writer, but problems with plot feel much more egregious. I really do think Karamelle deserves more vitriol than it gets.

G-d, I can't wait to get to Lemuria.

#behold. the long awaited kvetch.#wizblr #w101 #wizzy101 #wiz101 #wizard101 #y'all better check out the resources i've linked :gun:#there really is something to be said about fantasy worlds where Judaism does not textually exist but antisemitism DOES.#like hmm. where did that come from. anyways.

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lemonnsss · 3 months

Text

Moral of the Story Chapter 4

Gif by: @celebritiesandmovies

A/N- I’m so sorry for the late update! I’ve had some issues with my health recently that have led to some related issues in school; but, I’ve been feeling a lot better and tried to edit this up quickly.

It’s not my best work, but I had no idea what to do with this chapter, please forgive the nonsense.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.2k

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The thought that Scott would leave never so much as crossed my mind. How could it? Jean and Scott had been dating since the seventh grade.

I must have reread his email half a million times, each time hung on the words “I’m leaving the mansion too.”

I was pulled from my shock as I heard the door shut behind me. I put my phone away, internally prepared myself for the interview questions, and turned around, standing from the chair. I began to talk before I saw the figure, “Hello, again Ms. Potts. That was quite the situation-” I stopped. I had expected to see Ms. Potts. Instead, there stood Tony, who seemed equally shocked to see me there.

“Why hasn’t Pep sent you out yet?” He moved from the door to the desk, “The last person to make it this long had a mental breakdown a week later.” He passed my side, slipping onto her desk. He kicked his legs slightly before he appeared to remember I was still present.

“Regardless, where is Pepper? She usually never leaves interviewees unattended,” He leans back, bracing himself on one of his arms as he reaches to the top of the shortest stack with the other quickly lifting the top sheet and, while scanning it, says, “and most certainly never leaves them around confidential company information.”

“Technically, the interview hasn’t begun.” An uncomfortable pause fell in the room as he waited for me to elaborate, “Her regular assistant is on maternity leave. Her fill-in accidentally double-booked her- she’s in a meeting right now.”

He let his head fall back dramatically as he scoffed, “Shame, I had wanted to tell her something in private. Do you know who’s all in there with her?” A cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“No? Why, Tony?”

He slipped off the desk, similarly to when he hopped up, “Oh, nothing. Just have a bit of information to share with the class.” he was almost halfway across the room when he turned back to me. His smirk was now a shit-eating grin.

“Wait,” I ran to the man, grabbing his wrist, his expression turning amused, “if the information is so important, would it not be better to share it with her privately as you originally intended.”

I suppose I had a stern expression as I said that as Tony burst out laughing, “What am I? A schoolboy scolded by his teacher?”

“Not far off on the teacher part.” He stopped for a moment before a small smile came across his face.

“Really now? When was that?” He leaned against the table again, his interest shifting to the current topic more and more.

“It was my last job. I taught at a private academy outside Salem for almost three years.”

“Interesting. And what provoked the sudden career change?”

“I don’t believe I owe you that information, Mr. Stark, unless it pertains to a crime.”

A silence passed as he tilted his head one way and then the other. “Fair point. It doesn’t apply to California's laws, but sure, plead the fifth. I won’t judge you.”

“Oh no,” I said sarcastically, “how could I ever go on with the great Tony Stark judging me!”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” He moved his hands in an almost childish manner. Playing to exaggerate his point, “You don’t seem like the type to leave such a luxurious position for any old reason. And given that you didn’t have a job lined up, you left quickly. Why is that?”

“... My long-term partner and fellow teacher at the institution cheated on me with our co-worker.”

I looked up, his face seeming to wander between holding back a chuckle and ‘Oh shit’.

After quickly stiffening his laugh, a voice rang out behind, “Well, that’s quite the loss on their end.” Ms. Potts said from her place, leaning on the doorframe. Noticing her, I stood up, “You were a great help today, and from the small glimpse I’ve seen with you and Tony, well, I think he’ll be in good hands.”

By the time she finished her sentence, she was standing in front of myself and Tony. He still placed his weight on the desk but now he stood with his back straightened. I couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle, watching how much his demeanor changed when trying to maintain a good image around her.

“Please, Ms.Potts-“

“-Call me, Pepper. Please.”

“Alright… Pepper. Thank you, but you’re too kind. I just did what I could to help. That’s nothing to be hired over.”

I watched as she placed a hand on her hip, looked at Tony, then looked back at me.

“Hun, I mean this in the nicest way I can,” she says as she placed her hand on my shoulder lightly pushing me to sit, “do you want this fucking job?”

"Yes?"

“Great! You’re hired. Tony is scheduled to attend an event in Milan later this week so, I’d recommend you get ready for it. You’ll be at the convention for four days, not including travel days, please keep that in mind while packing. Now, if you don’t mind,” she moved her arm in front of her covered desk, “I have a few rather large stacks of paperwork to get to. Tony will show you to your office, once you’re done you’re free to leave,” she moved around the desk to type something on the computer, “I’ll have the receptionist send the order out for your ID badge, we’ll most likely have it tomorrow, otherwise it will be the day after that.” She moved up to Tony and me pushing him off her desk and casually shooing us to the door, “Congrats on the new secretary, Tony, don’t fuck it up. And to you, good luck.”

And just like that, I was standing outside of Ms. Potts' office with Mr. Stark. He led me over to his office, the room was rather cluttered but, inside and to the left there was a door. He looked over his shoulder, I guess to check to see if I was still there. He then opened the door, which, led to the secretary’s office.

“There’s another door leading in from the hall, so, please, don’t feel required to come through this room every morning. If you have any other questions, you have my number. Otherwise, I have better things to do.”

“I’m good Mr. Stark.”

“Mr. Stark was my father, call me Tony.”

“Okay then, Tony.”

“Well, I’ll be seeing you then.” He gave a slight wave and walked out into his office. The sound of his door closing let me know he was either leaving or heading back to Pepper’s.

I took another look around the room, it was well-furnished and fairly clean. There was nothing I could see that needed repair either. I wouldn't need to bring anything in.

We boarded the plane about sixteen hours ago and finally reached our destination. We were about five minutes from landing. I got up to wake up Tony, who had been asleep for the past four hours.

I walked over to his chair, slightly nudging his shoulder, “Mr. Stark, wake up. We’re about to land.”

“Fuck you”

“Apologies, sir.” I sat across from him and buckled my seatbelt.

After I had finished the pilot sent the message over the intercom. Tony begrudgingly followed the instructions. The landing was a bit bumpy, but far from the worst I’d felt.

Once we were given the all-clear to start unboarding we started walking down the airplane's staircase. I started walking towards the car that was waiting when I heard a loud bang. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang out. I turned around and saw Tony writhing on the ground.

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laughingogre · 11 months

Text

The Recluse and The Huntsman

Teaser/chapter 0 for the fic I’m writing since I have Miguel ATSV brain rot and I can’t keep all this good stuff to myself anymore. This wasn’t edited or anything like that so expect possible changes to both the characters and the plot in the future. Okay byeeee! EDIT: I made a playlist to go along with this story, the first 3 tracks accompany this chapter.

Premise: Miguel has always felt like an outcast in spider society because of the way he got his powers. But after meeting Saanvi, he’s never felt more proud to be one-of-a-kind.

Pairings: Original character x Miguel O’Hara, anti-hero x hero, enemies to rivals (it’s complicated) to lovers

Warnings: Violence… and that’s about it for this piece of the story but this list is going to get much longer very quickly.

Driving rain and the slight fog that followed with it brought a neon haze upon Nueva York tonight. A fusion of colors so outstanding that memories of another life were starting to shake off dust in her mind. Flashes of memories from an annual fireworks festival sparked a little warmth in Saanvi’s heart. Less than thirty seconds went by before she snuffed it out, leaving herself icy; instincts sharp and ready. Long, slender fingers on sure hands opened the heavy black case that lay next to her on the rooftop. Satisfaction curled her lips into a small smile as the new and improved rifle looked back at her, gleaming in the neon haze.

Hellooo beautiful, she thought. While assessing all the upgrades, the multi-functional scope and walkable trigger she requested had her grinning maniacally. She made a mental note to give Drago a little more praise for his gunsmithing as she set up a stand in the darkness of the alcove. Cycling through the scope’s options allowed for eight different modes of visibility and detection, with heat-seeking sensors that stood up against even this night’s hellish weather.

Scanning the city for a few minutes allowed Saanvi’s dark eyes to adjust to the new level of detail the scope afforded them. Once her senses were fully immersed, the hunt was on. A den of data pirates had been having way too much fun with the identities of over half the city’s even-remotely-wealthy citizens. Ever the champion of fair play, she was going to bring that fun to an end by leveling their ranks. A glance at the watch face on the inside of her left wrist showed it was just before 02:00 AM. If the intel she scrubbed was accurate, a 12-person heat signature would pop up in less than 60 seconds.

Rifle loaded and ready, she took aim and waited. Intel was good—a warehouse four klicks away lit up with bodies. Once she had a count of twelve, her finger slipped into the trigger guard and onto the trigger in a swift motion. It didn’t leave the trigger until none of them were left standing. Smoke drifting from the barrel caught the light of an ad for aphrodisiacs and coiled pink and red against the shadows of the alcove. A smile cut across her face again as a leap off the building’s edge plunged her into the deluge.

Broken glass and rubble crunched underneath graceful steps as she leisurely filled a bag with data drives, cash, and whatever valuables her victims had stashed away. Once their warehouse was picked to the bones, Saanvi took a few photographs of the scene. Horrific images of bodies that were all bloated and bruising from the new ammunition she and Drago had developed. She knelt down near the worst-looking of the bodies, preparing to take a sample. As she pulled out a small vial and tool kit, the incoming presence of another threat sent her up the wall and into the ceiling’s vent system. Damn… intel must’ve been bad… there’s more of them. Sight limited by the vent grates, alarms went off in her head to escape as she felt the intensity of the aura peaking. There must be at least five more people about to walk into this room. Morbid curiosity won over her senses, so she repositioned herself in the vent to catch a glimpse of the intruders. Footsteps that seemed almost deafening from the intensity with which she listened for them indicated it was only one person. Good strategy, sending a scout. Eyes glued to the vent, she saw a massive silhouette peel around the corner. Her senses flared up at the sight of the figure beneath her: a man standing at least six feet tall, clad in a form-fitting suit that was dark blue with pulsing sections of red. The mask on his face had a menacing symbol on it that seemed to move the way facial expressions would. It started to stir a memory inside of her but an old emotion bloomed before recall could happen. For the first time in years, fear filled Saanvi’s veins. Thoughts only of escape and safety pinging in her mind. Run. Hide. Home. Run. Hide. Home. Go. Her head became a glitched mp3 but she couldn’t take her eyes off this predator. While the hulking figure below spoke in a low, annoyed growl to someone she couldn’t see, she stilled her mind and listened for the sound of pouring rain. The sound that would lead her away from this thing beneath her as fast as possible. Her crawl through the ducts to safety began with bated breath, a silent prayer that finished only after putting two klicks of distance between herself and whatever anomaly was in that warehouse.

Once back on the rooftop where her night began, her body shuddered hard, trying to fight off every feeling of the last few moments. She failed, senses made raw and primal by a hit of animalistic fear. Suddenly she could feel everything—single drops of rain and the chill that was trying to rob her of every last iota of body heat. Memories of another life came to her again, this time in echoes of her mother’s voice bewaring her of those made to be like her but not born as they were. ‘The universe is wide and more wild than our forest. You may meet something made to be even deadlier than you or I.’ The steel in her mother’s voice at that moment wasn’t lost on her then or now.

Saanvi had finally crossed paths with Miguel O’Hara that night. Only she didn’t register him as such. To her, she had come face to face with her mother’s fear made flesh: an unnatural union of arachnid and human.

***

It had been two weeks since that night and the nightmares weren’t letting up. Tonight was no different. Having been woken up by her own fearful thrashing yet again, Saanvi migrated from the bedroom to her studio. A pot of Cuban coffee brewed in the corner, filling the air with a pleasant smell. Fingers rapidly gesturing at holo-screens that were returning more of the same useless information. She knew everyone called him Spider-Man. She knew everyone (or almost everyone) considered him to be a hero. But she wanted more than just news articles and conspiracy theories from bloggers. What she wanted more than anything was to find out what Hell he came from so she could send him back to it. There was only one way to do that where he wouldn’t be pointing his fangs at her. Before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep at her desk, Saanvi had pinged a few connections. By the time the sun shone on the city again, she had unofficially launched an infiltration and intelligence gathering mission against Spider-Man.

#miguel o'hara #fanfiction #fanfic #miguel o’hara x oc #across the spiderverse #atsv #spider man #spider-man #spider-man 2099 #Spotify

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sinnerlillith · 2 years

Note

Can you do sub Eddie smut where he’s feeling insecure so you take care of him and praise him until he feels better

this is so cute behsjbfsff but i'm not good with writing a lot of fluff weaved into long smut , so i'll do this short little smut fic instead so i can fit some wholesome parts into it.

Cw: sub eddie <3 , handjob, mention of orgasm denial, neck kisses/hickeys, praise kink, soft dom reader, tiny angst b/c sad eddie

words: 2.3k

"Eddie, there's definitely something up with you."

Eddie has been laying on your chest silently for the past 30-ish long minutes on his couch. He's never been this close to your chest and stayed silent about it. This means no typical tit jokes, requests to grope or suck, or even a random bite to them.

You could have sworn he was alseep if it weren't for your quick glances at his face, but since he's laying on you, only his eyelashes are noticeable. You look closely to see if his eyelashes flutter as he opens and closes them every few minutes, and they do, giving away the fact that he is definitely awake.

"I dunno, I jus'.... feel like shit." His voice is completely flat, a void of energy and his usual pep.

You move a hand from off his back to brush over his head of hair, as if you're petting him. You feel his chest take a deep breath after you stroke his head a little bit, signifying that he is attempting to relax.

"Are you sick?" You ask.

"Nah." his voice is still void.

"Well- so what's wrong, pretty boy?"

Pretty. Any other time, this would make his heart flutter, but right now, it makes him mentally wince. Pretty? If he's actually pretty, why does he feel far from it?

He feels... wasted away. Like he's not good enough as a musician, a boyfriend, a nephew, or even just a person. He doesn't answer your question right away, instead he takes a deep breath. He mentally prepares himself to be vulnerable to you and talk about how he feels.

"Don't feel pretty, I guess." He speaks so quietly. His arms squeeze around you, like a kid with their favorite stuffed animal, just not wanting to let go. His eyes squeeze shut as his head turns further into your breast.

"What?" you swear you've never said 'what' like that in your entire life. That was the fastest, most concerned, and most confused 'what' that has ever come out of your mouth.

"Eddie, what do you mean?" your voice is concerned.

"ugghhh," He groans into your chest. "never mind."

"No, no, wait- please just talk to me. Thats all. I wont interrupt." your hands are now on his neck and exposed cheek of his face. Your thumb caresses his warm skin as if to coax him into letting out how he feels. "Take your time, Eds."

A few quiet seconds pass. He sighs before finally speaking.

"I just don't feel, I dunno... like, myself I guess?"

You nod your head in an understanding manner, even though he cant see you.

"I don't feel good enough. Jus' don't feel 'pretty' "

Your eyes droop downward at his confession, a small frown on your face.

"Oh Ed, c'mere baby," your body begins to move to sit up, "sit up honey."

You both rise up together to sit straight on his couch. You place a hand on the opposite side of his face to turn it towards you.

"Eddie, I love you a lot. I'm so sorry that you're having a shit day-"

"Don't be sor-"

"ah! Don't interrupt Ed, not done yet."

He exhales and nods silently at you. His lips are pressed into a flat line.

"I think the best thing I can tell you right now is that emotions aren't... permanent? If that makes sense? You're gonna feel this way today, but not everyday. Do you get that?"

He nods. You place both hands on either side of his face. You let your thumbs caress his cheeks.

"Are you sure? Sorry if its shit advice, but I do love you a lot. You're gonna figure it out, and I'm here for you. All versions of you, sad or happy."

He slowly smiles at that last part. It gives him a reassured feeling to know that you'll love him, even when he's not confident. His eyes close slowly before they open up again to meet your own, showing that he's finally relaxed a bit.

"Thanks sweetheart." His voice has a hint of warmth in it.

You lean forward to him while pulling his face to meet you halfway, giving him a long peck on his lips. He smiles into the kiss, and when you pull back, his head is still in the same spot you pulled it to. His face has a sweet grin on it as he still leaned forward to you.

He looks a little goofy, but incredibly cute at the same time. You're just happy he's looking more alive now.

You mumble as you move forward again to peck his lips. "You're so pretty..."

Your head stays close to his own as you tilt it to the side to go to his neck. You push his long brown curls back.

You move forwards with intentions to place a kiss on his pulsing skin.

"you're precious." kiss

“my sweet boy.” kiss

You return back to your original position, looking him in his big brown eyes sweetly. You tuck his hair behind his ear.

All the sweet things you’ve been flattering him with makes his ears heat up. All he can focus on now is how good your lips felt on his skin. He tries to snap out of it-

He doesn’t. He can’t.

Your lips are so distracting. He mentally curses because he thinks he’s about to ruin the moment, but he really needs you. He gulps.

“Can you kiss me again?”

You blink at him. Your thighs twitch at his question, completely caught off guard, but slightly turned on by his plead.

“Oh,” you half smile, taken aback by his request. “uh ye-sure.. where?”

He shakes his head side to side and responds with almost a whisper. “Anywhere.”

His hand is now the one to pull your face in. The kiss is rushed, passionate, and you’re now fully aware of what he wants. Your movements are so sloppy and messy, you cant keep up with his fervor. You can feel your teeth clink together for a short second before you finally catch up with the kiss.

You move closer and swing a leg over his hip to straddle him. His wide hands come up to the back of your neck attempting to pull you even closer to his firm, warm, body. Your tongues join together, rolling over each other, causing you both to make a sinful noise into each others mouth.

Your hips sit just above his semi erection, which only causes him to get insanely more needy. Without breaking the kiss, his hands slide down your shoulders, spine, and lower back to grip your hips. He slides them forward over his semi, and rolls them back off.

He literally sighs against your mouth, like he’s been waiting so long for this. You smile on his lips and roll your hips again without his guidance.

And again.

Until finally, you separate your lips from his to move them to his neck. His heart is beating out of his chest at this point. His face is hot and his now fully hard dick is tightly quivering in his jeans and underwear. Your wet lips kiss his neck gently. His head falls to the side in bliss, allowing you to nip at more skin.

“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” you say into his flesh, punctuating with an open mouth kiss.

“My beautiful boy.” this time, punctuating with a small bite.

The wet sounds of your mouth paired with your compliments sends blood pumping all throughout his body, driving him crazy. He needs you to touch him more, somewhere else.

“Sweetheart,” he begs as he pulls one of your hands off of him, “touch me...” he places your palm over his bulge. Your head pulls back off his neck to meet his face with your eyes. You see how his dark ones are genuine, and so incredibly desperate for you, it’s almost concerning.

You smile at him. “Take it out.”

He’s immediately moving after the words leave your mouth. He undoes his pants and slides both his underwear and jeans down to the middle of his thighs, allowing his fully hardened erection to bounce up to his stomach.

Your finger comes down to trace the veins up and down his shaft, just wanting to admire him for a bit. And maybe be a tease.

“Thats not what I meant, babe.” he chuckles.

“Oh yeah?” You joke back and look up at him. You bring your palm up below his chin. “Spit.”

He looks down at your palm and lets saliva fall from his pursed lips, dropping onto your hand. You bring it down to his shaft and pump slowly, only once. You listen for his reaction, hearing him gently exhale a short breath through his nose. You pump once more, squeezing tighter so he feels more pressure when your fist lifts to his sensitive tip.

“Oh shit, do that again.” he’s pleads for you to tightly squeeze his shaft again.

You continue to stroke him at your steady pace, squeezing tight at his tip, only hearing the wet sounds of his spit in your palm, and pre cum from his tip as you rub him. His head falls back and you immediately move your mouth to his neck to suck hickeys. Once your teeth make an appearance on his neck, his hips buck up into your fist.

He groans at your rough mouth and delicate strokes. He continues to attempt to fuck himself into your hand, but since you’re straddling his thighs, its a little hard for him.

“Aw, you need me to go faster baby?” you say directly into his ear, making them flush red. “Needy. Use your words..” you whisper those last words lowly as your warm mouth latches onto his ear, making him gasp.

“Faster... please... go faster.” He groans. You pump him faster.

“That’s a good boy.” and shit, his dick actually twitches in your hand at your praise. He’s a sucker for those words. You suck a few more hickeys onto his neck, hearing only the wet squelching sounds of your fist around his dick, and his moans of pleasure.

“Make more noises for me, sweet boy.” you say against his neck as your head falls to his shoulder, allowing your eyes a perfect view of his dick. He curses, a hand rushing to the back of your head, the other gripping your arm that’s pumping him.

He lets out swears and whimpers your name over and over.

“oh god... yeah- fuck- just like that.” He can’t stop rambling. “Please don’t stop..!” he slurs.

You move your face up to kiss him, swallowing his noises, but his chest vibrates and shakes with trapped groans. His hips buck involuntarily. You’re so turned on by the whole thing.

Your head eventually pulls back to align with his face. Your forehead rests on his own, but he’s having a hard time keeping his eyes open. His jaw is slack, leaving his mouth open as he pants. He tries to tuck his plush lip behind his upper teeth, but fails.

He looks completely erotic.

“Gonna cum?” you question him.

He nods, eyes still shut, barely able to form words.

“Too bad,” you smile. “won’t let you do that.” he pulls his head back, away from yours, and looks up at you with large saddened eyes, about to move his mouth and cry for you until you interrupt his thoughts. “Unless you say you’re a good boy, and then wait for my permission.” His eyes widen at your conditions. His face flushes in slight embarrassment at the idea, even though he’s still very much turned on.

You smile at his bashfullness. “Go on, lover boy.” you peck his pretty pink lips. “unless you want me to stop and leave you to finish your own self off...”

He visibly panics at the image of you leaving.

“fuck, ok ok, I’m...” his head falls back onto the cushions of the couch, eyes squinting shut before opening, looking at the trailer celling, then closing again. You move your face back to his neck to pepper even more kisses, since you know they drive him that crazy.

“...shit- ‘m a good boy.” he practically whines at his embarrassment, but your dominance turns him on so much. Plus, your fist is rubbing him off so perfectly.

“That’s right.” you smile on his neck and lick a long stripe up to his sweet spot under his jaw. He stays still, letting you do whatever to his hickey covered flesh.

His hands shake as they come up to grip your shirt. His head turns so his mouth is close to your ear, letting you hear every gasp, exhale, and plea. His breath speeds up and his mouth cant stay shut.

“nnngh, please please-!”

“Aw. Please what, hun?”

“ah- you gotta let me cum now..” he whimpers through his teeth.

“Depends... are you my good boy, Eddie?” Your fist now comes up to only jerk off his tip, stimulating the most sensitive part of him over and over.

“yes, yes a good boy- ‘m a good boy.” his words slur, he’s so drunk off of just your hand. The words fall from his mouth so naturally, he’s no longer embarrassed about it.

“My pretty boy?”

“fucking christ, yes, ‘m your pretty boy, all yours, ah! fuck!”

And just like that, you felt wet and warm stickiness trickle down your fist. He came without your permission. A part of you was a little upset, but since he’s been having a hard time, you let it slide.

Eddie on the other hand, was too far gone in his post orgasm euphoria, paired with the after effects of your praise and the sinful actions of your hands with your sweet words and kisses. His chest rose and fell rapidly, ringed hands and firm thighs twitching on you. You notice his adams apple bob as he swallows, trying to calm his breathing, then he finally comes back down to earth.

“oh shit.” he says, completely out of breath. He looks down at your cum covered hands on his dick, “sorry, didn’t mean to do that... it just felt so good.”

You kiss his bang covered forehead, letting him know it’s ok.

“Just glad you’re feeling better now, Ed.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.●∘◦❀◦∘●.* :☆ﾟ. ───

writing wholesome fluffy smut is not my expertise 🧍🏾‍♀️i’m a mean dom, not a soft dom so i hope it wasn’t bad

Tag list : @cringerat @cyberfaii @dickfacemcshitboner @cringerat @eddiemvnsongf @julietsecretdiary @iveseenstrangerthings50 @sansthelonelypunster @leslieelainetrask @rafecameronswhore @foggyloverpeanuthairdo-blog @justadeanandeddieslut @wojciechovsk @blossoming-cee @marlrocks @eddiescorrodedcoffin86

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson imagine #sub eddie munson #sub!eddie munson

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stagkingswife · 1 month

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Around the holidays I had the unique joy of meeting up with @windvexer in person while they were visiting my beloved New York City. Over sushi, dessert, and then just hanging out in their hotel lobby we had a wide ranging conversation about our practices, UPGs, etc. The conversation eventually drifted to comparing our spirit lead initiations. Chicken’s story is theirs to share, or not, as they choose. But I’ve been thinking a lot since that conversation about my own initiation and how it parallels another important story in my life.

When I was 15 I was a dancer and I was good, like competing at a national level. I was cast as Odette in my ballet school’s adaptation of Swan Lake. I practiced, and rehearsed, and trained all year long for the role. Then a month before recital weekend my family and I went on a weekend trip to Gettysburg. I also love history, and my dad and I had just read a book about the battle of Gettysburg together, so we clambered all over the battlefield. I tore a calf muscle doing this. I saw my usual doctor for injuries and wore a cast for three weeks, walked through rehearsals, took it easy. Once the cast was off a week before the recital I ramped up slowly, warmed up more than usual, stretched carefully, everything. But come recital weekend I danced my heart out and left everything on the stage. 3 weeks later I was diagnosed with CRPS in the leg I had injured. What does any of this have to do with my initiation? Everything, just bare with me.

My childhood mentor had been initiated by the spirits of her tradition, and she had spoken to me about the effect this had had on her. I had written an academic paper on initiatory spiritual traditions and the phenomena of initiation sickness. I knew, long before Oisin ever broached the topic with me, that a spirit lead initiation could wreck your life, that it would be trying in ways that were specifically designed to change you on a fundamental to suit the spirit's needs, and that undertaking one would have consequences I couldn’t even begin to image. I also knew that dancing Swan Lake one week out of a cast could have disastrous results for my dance career. But I loved the music and choreography. I loved how I felt while I was dancing. So I danced. I was already in love with Oisin when he presented me with this trial. I loved learning from him, and working with him, and if there was something hard, even something impossible, that he needed me to do so that I could keep learning and working with him - it was no question.

I had no way of knowing when I was teenager waiting in the wings in my white leotard and feathered wig that I was about to dance my last ballet. That in less than a year I would start using a cane, or that I would one day swap the cane for a wheelchair, or any of the changes and accommodations that I’ve had to make in my life for my disability. I only knew the love. When I said yes to Oisin I couldn’t have predicted how much it would break me when he killed my soul, dismembered it, and scattered the innumerable shreds across the Otherworlds. I could have imagined the amazing and terrifying things I saw and experienced on my journey to find those fragments and assemble myself - or what it was like to live without a complete soul in the meantime. And nothing could have prepared me for the permanent changes the whole process had wrought on my life: on my physical health, my mental health, the very fact that my spiritual oaths and promises must always come first for me. I only knew the love.

17 years after my diagnosis, and 13 after my initiation started, I look back at the choices that led to both and would make them both again, even knowing the consequences. These two choices, more than almost anything else in my life, have shaped who I am as an adult and I like that person. These choices came from the right place, both times. Not from ambition, greed, guilt, or fear, but love. And I can’t ever regret what I did for love.

#witchcraft #pagan #the returning #spirit work #initiation #spirit lead initiation

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legendary-defender-of-fandoms · 1 month

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Because I’m stuck in the Rot, More Thoughts about Wreck it Ralph

I know, I know. It’s just a stupid kids’ movie about a bunch of stupid video game characters going on stupid adventures and making stupid jokes. This REALLY isn’t something worth obsessing over, especially with the myriad of dumpster fires that is The Real World right now. Who gives a shit about cartoons when there’s at least one active genocide, the US is going back to the Bad Old Days, and trillionaires exist?

But the thing is . . . I DO care. I care so much. And I know I shouldn’t.

I was the ABSOLUTE last person who should’ve liked the first Wreck-it Ralph. I knew no one in the cast by name or reputation, I missed the majority of the video game references (like not realizing Tapper was a real-ass game from the real-ass world until much later), and I only went to the opening weekend showing because I was excited for Paperman (the short that played prior to the movie, not the video game character). I told myself I was going to walk out as soon as the movie bored me. I thought I’d be there ten minutes.

And then, the movie started.

By the time the camera pushed in on the Fix-it Felix Jr. screen & we entered the world of the video game characters, I was glued to my seat. But it wasn’t until we faded in on Ralph sitting in his first Bad Anon meeting, pouring his heart & soul out to his fellow Bad Guys (and the audience) that I realized he was me.

I mean, not literally. Obviously. But as the movie kept playing, I kept feeling like someone had ripped out my soul & put it on the big screen. There have been other Disney characters I’ve liked or related to for surface-level similarities (She likes books? I like books! That kind of stuff).

But Ralph hit SO MUCH deeper. He was this guy feeling stuck in a role he wasn’t sure he was meant to play, feeling literally AND metaphorically out of place even in a world where he SHOULD have felt at home, tired of ALWAYS being compared to someone else and found lacking because HIS talents didn’t match the OTHER’S talents, desperate for someone, ANYONE, to see what he had to offer and say “You have value. You matter.” And there were other similarities - the short temper, the clumsiness/tendency towards accidentally breaking stuff, the gap in the top front teeth, etc. But it was the core of his character - feeling lost, being secure in his identity but looking for someone to see him & accept him - that truly resonated with me.

And the rest of the movie. I could talk about what was IN the movie, but I want to talk about what WASN’T in the movie. Like the Bad Anon scenes. It was silly because of who was there, but they played it DEAD serious in the movie. This was not a “D’oh hoh hoh, silly support group for silly people because mental health is for losers” scene - they paid support groups & mental health the respect they deserve! And it was inspiring that Ralph STAYED IN Bad Anon even after getting his “Happily Ever After.” Sure, it was probably just meant to be a framing device, but I saw it as mental health positivity. And there were spin-off short stories that carried the idea of Ralph staying in Bad Anon, further reinforcing the idea that support groups are helpful & there’s nothing wrong with reaching out for help.

And for a plus-size character, Ralph has a surprising lack of fat jokes aimed at him in the first movie. I think Vanellope has one line about him having a go-kart “hidden in the fat folds of his neck,” but I think that’s because she wasn’t allowed to say “Well, unless you have a go-kart hidden in your ass crack.” And there are scenes in the first act when Ralph is clearly too big to comfortably walk through the Niceland Apartment or when his tummy bulges out when he straightens his stolen Hero’s Duty armor, but I saw those more as “Ohh, this is a visual representation of how Ralph feels out of place because this world wasn’t made to accommodate someone like him and/or he’s not prepared for what he’s about to get into” as opposed to “D’oh Ho Ho, he’s FAT.”

It was just so refreshing to see a movie that didn’t go for as many cheap shots as it probably could’ve. Ralph was treated with so much respect in the first movie, and it felt so nice to see someone who I resonated with so thoroughly not being treated like the butt of the joke. The movie became an instant favorite, and Wreck-it Ralph took over a special place in my heart & my brain. On bus rides home from college I’d be on my laptop making music videos about Ralph & Vanellope (NOT SHIPPING THEM AT ALL!!!!!!! I used songs clearly meant to convey familial love like “BBBFF” and “You’ll Be In My Heart”) I eagerly waited for Disney to give us console games based on Sugar Rush & Hero’s Duty (and yes, I DID buy the micro Fix-it Felix Jr. cabinet when it was offered at Walmart, and if there is ever a full cabinet game offered I WILL be the first to buy it, build it, and set every record possible for a cabinet game). When Motorchickensmile published their Love Bug fanfic on Fanfiction.net & posted their art on DeviantArt, I was HOOKED! If that was the ONLY sequel we ever got to Wreck-it Ralph, I would’ve died happy.

Then Disney announced the official sequel. And like the rest of the world, I was PUMPED! A little confused because Ralph didn’t have anything to do with the Internet and it seemed odd to get the arcade characters out of the arcade, but I was hopeful. After all, the first movie was beloved by old school gamers, new gamers, and folks who only knew Pokémon (I.e. me). SURELY they’d know what they were doing with online gaming!

And then I saw the sequel.

There are a lot of scenes from Wreck-it Ralph that live in my head. I saw the movie at least 4 times in theaters, and when the movie went on sale I was there the day it dropped to buy it & put the digital copy on my iPod. But you know that scene when Ralph destroys Vanellope’s go kart while she’s stuck in the tree, and she’s BEGGING him not to, SCREAMING in agony as he obliterates the first thing he ever made that someone saw value in, the promise of her future, a symbol of their shared outcast status but still being worthy? And you can SEE the misery in Ralph’s face, how he HATES doing this, but keeps going because he thinks he has to for the greater good?

Yeah, that’s what Ralph Breaks the Internet did to my perception of Wreck-it Ralph.

Gone were any traces of nuance, maturity, introspection, or even basic intelligence. NOW Ralph is a gross idiot who is SUPER clingy to Vanellope, regularly abandons his game during arcade hours (which, in case folks forgot from the first movie, was a SUPER BIG DEAL THAT COULD’VE ENDED HIS WORLD & KILLED THE NICELANDERS), throws temper tantrums & blubbers like a baby when things don’t go his way. Ralph goes OUT OF HIS WAY to endanger Vanellope just to keep her close, and he NEVER holds himself accountable! The first movie was all about Ralph learning that self worth can’t be measured in medals, but in the sequel he is CONSTANTLY flashing his cookie medal like it’s supposed to mean something. Don’t even get me STARTED on all the fat jokes. And even BEFORE Ralph ruins Sugar Rush, you get the sense that while HE’S obsessed with Vanellope & their friendship, Vanellope is feeling suffocated by this relationship & is desperate to get away from him.

The press releases said the movie was supposed to be about friends growing apart and going away but keeping the bonds of friendship. But to me? The whole thing felt like Disney was saying “Hey, YOU. Yeah, the IDIOT who thought they LIKED this giant man-baby moron? You’re super clingy and stupid. Don’t bother making friends - you’ll smother them with your attempts to bond. They can do so much better than you, and you’re only holding them back. Now, who wants to watch us add insult to injury by stuffing this gorilla in a dress designed for a 14-year-old princess?”

Again, I don’t think that was the INTENDED message of the movie. But it was just SO mean-spirited, especially when compared to the uplifting messages of the first movie. Which I guess was inevitable for a movie trying to be about the Internet, but still.

So, yeah. I had to step away from the franchise. And it HURT! This story - this character - was such a huge part of my life for years, and I had to cut it out. There were periods of time when I’d forget about the franchise for a bit, or have More Important Things to worry about (like that global pandemic, the nut job & his cult trying to overthrow the US government, normal life stuff). But then I’d be hit with a thought about the first movie out of nowhere, and I’d be happy until I remembered how the sequel killed all of its goodwill.

To this day I still have mixed feelings about Ralph. I get excited when he & Vanellope are included in multi-IP projects, then get sad when I remember the sequel, then get mad at myself for getting excited, then get disappointed when I see more Vanellope merch than Ralph merch, then get mad again when I remember how badly the sequel burned me. AND HE’S NOT REAL!!! I’m being driven insane by a guy WHO DOESN’T EVEN EXIST!!!

When Disney announced their version of Animal Crossing, Dreamlight Valley, Ralph & Vanellope were two of the characters featured in the trailer. Two years later we got Vanellope, but the closest we’ve gotten to Ralph is an in-game chess piece. Meanwhile Vanellope’s getting some great interactions with Mike & Sully of Monsters Inc, with Sully taking a paternal shine to Vanellope. And now I’m constantly begging the Dreamlight Valley social medias for updates about Ralph. I’m excited to see him, but also worried because I don’t know if we’ll get the nuanced Bad Guy from Wreck-it Ralph or the clingy buffoon from Ralph Breaks the Internet. I know John C. Reilly won’t be voicing him (because he NEVER voices Ralph outside of the movies & Once Upon a Studio), but I’m also kind of hoping he will? I don’t know if I want my avatar to hug him, or punch him, or leave him stranded in the Vitalys mines, or love-bomb him with cookie medals, or just leave him off mode. I have a space saved right in front of my in-game house for HIS in-game house, but I might just spend the rest of the game on Eternity Isle so I never have to see him.

And again, this is all for some WHO IS NOT REAL!!!!! I know I have problems, I KNOW there’s SO MUCH MORE to worry about than an imaginary guy with ginormous hands! I WISH I could just not care about him, or his movie, or any fictional stories! I WISH I could go on a Disney Cruise and NOT look for his face in the Art of Animation wall art or in the kids’ area wall art! I WISH I could stop looking for him in Disney Lorcana, or mystery mini lines, or multi-IP books! But I also know I can’t. If I let myself give up on him, if I let Disney WIN? He’ll be Forgotten. Locked in that vault with no chance for redemption. There have been too many other characters to suffer that fate. Like Oswald. And I can’t let characters like Oswald or Ralph be forgotten.

#disney #wreck it Ralph #wir #Ralph breaks the Internet #RBTI #word vomit #pardon my mad ravings #this has been living in my head for years #need to get this out of my system #I feel like Jennifer Aniston in Bruce Almighty #crying in bed begging God to make me stop caring about a friggin’ animated dumpster man #why can’t I obsess over some real guy like a normal person?

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krikeymate · 9 months

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a blood red setting sun

Chapter 1/?

It's my birthday present to myself :3

Aster Carpenter thinks her life is as near to perfect as it can be… until she uncovers her mother's secret: she's been killing people. Turns out her aunt and her cousin were lying to her too. Can you blame her for what happens next?

- - -

“Mom, I need to talk to you.”

Sam’s head snaps up at Aster’s words, a pit forming in her stomach. They’re hard, firm. Almost cold. She flicks her eyes to the side to meet Tara’s before fully turning to her daughter with a smile on her face, dinner preparation forgotten. She ignores the dread trickling down her spine.

“What’s up, Starlight? Is something wrong?” Sam asks, concerned. Aster sounds unusually serious right now. She’s not sure she’s ever heard her sound like this. She’s so proud that neither of their daughters ever had to be serious. They got to have the fun and safe childhood that she and Tara were robbed of.

The wolf inside her whines, unsettled. A warning if ever she heard one. Something’s happening, and she’s not going to like it.

Aster steps forward and rests her hands on the back of a kitchen chair. “I need you to sit down.” She takes a deep breath. “You too,” she adds, nodding her head at Tara.

The sisters share a look before slowly taking a seat at the dining table.

Do you know what this is about?

No, do you?

Sam’s leg bounces nervously as the minutes drag on, unable to take the silence and the itching beneath her skin as Aster tries to find the words she wants to say.

Eventually, she does.

“I saw a missing persons report online a few days ago,” she says, eyes fixed on the table, thumb rubbing against the chair as if she’s self-soothing, a habit of her childhood long since been left behind.

Or so Sam thought.

Something about the action stings, she notes. It’s a squeeze of her heart, knowing her daughter is so anxious about this conversation, that she would ever be nervous to talk to them.

“Oh… Did you… know them?” Sam asks, sharing a look of confusion with Tara. She can’t remember the last time she felt so off-balanced. She wishes her daughter would just get to the point and say whatever it is that she wants to say, but then again, Aster has always preferred to be coy with her words. Why tell you what she wants when she can simply suggest and hint at it instead?

It's more fun, she remembers her telling her once.

It doesn’t look like she’s having any fun right now, chewing on her lip and fighting twitching fingers, unable to even look in their direction.

The air is so saturated with Aster’s anxiety that Sam can practically taste it, sour with a metallic undercoat. It’s a taste she knows well, but not one she ever hoped or imagined would come from her own family.

“No,” Aster says, tilting her head to the side. “But you did.”

Sam frowns at that.

“What, who?” she asks impatiently, beginning to scan through a mental catalogue of the people in their life, questioning when they spoke last, trying to recall anything unusual. With her daughter's next words, Sam begins to feel like there should be an alarm screeching overhead, as loud as the one in hers.

She wishes there was. Anything to change the trajectory of this conversation.

“Well, Tara knew him at least,” Aster scoffs.

It’s the foreign bitterness in her voice that makes Sam realise this isn’t a conversation. It’s an interrogation. She’s alarmed to find she knows this tone well. She’s as familiar with it as the scars on her body. It was her own once, a lifetime ago.

“Intimately, even.”

Sam’s mouth audibly clicks shut at her words. The insinuation isn’t lost on her.

Finally, Aster looks up. “Do you remember Friday?”

She speaks to Tara, but her eyes never leave Sam.

“You were all over him in that bar. He wanted you to go home with him.” Aster glances at her aunt. “Did you?”

“Aster!” Sam cries out, horrified by the rapid understanding that hits her. She was there. She saw.

The realisation of what she might have seen makes her wolf whimper inside. Aster isn’t confused, she’s confrontational. Despite the questions she’s asking, Sam gets the impression that she’s not looking for answers, only a confession.

Sam licks her lips, mind racing to find a way to respond. “Don’t talk to her like that,” she settles on.

Aster has always been a good kid. She rarely gets into trouble, but in this moment, Sam wishes she had, if only so she had more practice on how to deal with her when she’s out of line. Because she is so out of line right now.

“Tara is an adult. And what – or who – she does in her spare time is her own business,” Sam continues through her clenched jaw. Even the thought of what she’s saying has her holding back a growl. She doesn’t like saying it any more than she likes thinking about it, but it has to be said. It is true, and Aster clearly needs reminding there are things that just aren’t her business.

“Jesus, mom,” Aster blurts out, snapping her head back to Sam. “I don’t care who she sleeps with. In fact, I would be thrilled if she had a life for once!”

Tara’s affronted hey! gets drowned out as Aster continues to raise her voice.

“I care that the dude she sleeps with is reported missing the very next day!”

Aster begins to pace, shoulders tense, clenched hands held tightly against her chest.

“I care that you were also there. I mean, you two may very well have been the last people to see him before he went… missing. That’s kind of a big deal, don’t you think? Maybe you should talk to the police, tell them what you know.”

There’s a sardonic laugh to her words. It’s caustic. Sam’s never heard her daughter like this before. It only makes the weight in her stomach grow heavier. She realises now what her gut and her wolf were trying to warn her about.

She can’t know. She can’t. Not that.

“But you won’t, will you?”

Aster stops and shakes her head. “Because you know he’s not missing.” She turns on her heel, tears in her eyes.

“You killed him, didn’t you mom?”

- - -

Aster squints unhappily down at her phone, group chat open and the screen lighting up with every new message. Once again, plans are being made, and she’s stuck being left out.

It’s not their fault of course, they try to include her. She’s the one with an overprotective family who won’t let her out past 7pm, or dark. Whichever comes sooner. The thought makes her roll her eyes. If only she had super strength, lightning reflexes, and claws that can cut through anything, oh wait!

“It’s for your protection Aster.”

“We just want you to be safe sweetheart.”

“Listen to mom squirt.”

Usually she doesn’t mind being babied, but this is one area they could stand to loosen the reigns a little.

She’s feeling a little desperate tonight. You’d think since school broke for summer break, she’d have more time to hang with her friends. Unfortunately, her family never got the memo. She wonders if mom even actually has a job, given that she’s always around, but she supposes the money must come from somewhere.

Actually, gramma Gale probably just gives it to her. She’s soft like that. A bitch sometimes, but soft.

Aster’s considering straight-up lying for the chance to escape so she can have just one normal evening being a teenager and hanging with her friends, doing stupid things, and kissing her boyfriend, Rafe, when she hears salvation from across the hall. Dropping her phone onto her bed, she creeps across the room and presses an ear to the wall.

- - -

“Hey Sammy,” Tara calls, swinging around the doorway and into the master bedroom. She adopts the tone she knows Sam can’t resist, light and warm, and so hard to say no to.

It’s been a while since they’ve… been out, and Tara’s feeling antsy. She’s bored, to be frank, and she expects Sam to entertain her. She could go by herself of course, but it’s never as satisfying an experience as it is with Sam by her side. Everything is so much brighter when they’re together.

“I was thinking maybe we could go out tonight, have some fun,” she says smiling sweetly at her sister.

Sam looks up from the laundry basket, half-folded clothes spilling out onto the bed. She so desperately wants to say yes – she loves the kids and wouldn't change her life for the world, but sometimes she misses the freedom they used to have, when plans could change at the drop of a dime and there was so much less to worry about – but there’s a queasiness that bubbles up at the thought of going out tonight that has her saying “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” instead.

She regrets it immediately as Tara’s smile drops. The quiet “oh” she lets out tears her in two. Her gut tells her don’t do this, but disappointing her sister has never been an option. Not since they came back into one another’s lives.

“Because of the girls?” Tara questions with a twitch of her lips as Sam stands frozen and fighting a battle within herself. The smile doesn’t compare to the one Sam broke moments before. “Because honestly Sam, I think they’re old enough now. I think we can trust them to spend an evening alone, don’t you?”

Despite the teasing tone, Sam can still feel the disappointment radiating from her.

“It just doesn’t feel right,” she rushes to explain. “It’s just… a gut feeling, like something’s going to go wrong.”

Tara stares at her for a moment, searching for any words left unsaid. Finding none, she sighs and pushes off the wall. “Okay, another night then.”

Sam can hear the acceptance, she knows she’s going to get her way this time, and yet…

“No- wait, fine.”

She can feel the questioning rumble from within. What is she doing? What she always does, putting Tara first. Her gut has been wrong before. She’s long past letting paranoia control her.

“It’s fine, we can go out. The girls are old enough to behave themselves. We can have some fun, like we used to.”

On the other side of the wall, Aster bites her lip and silently pumps her fist in the air. She dives onto her bed, catching her phone as it bounces in the air. Flopping onto her back, she responds to the group chat.

She’s free to hang tonight after all.

- - -

Aster doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol, surreptitiously gained with the help of a fake ID and an inattentive bartender, the rush of sneaking out, or simply her friends’ laughter, but she swears she’s never felt happier than in this moment.

She’s crammed into a crowded booth with 5 other peers, all as extraordinary as she is. She’s halfway to drunk, face flushed and tongue tingling with the herbs Rafe had handed out – a little something to level the playing field and help progress what might have otherwise been a suspiciously difficult task, he promised. And it was no lie, her drink hitting her harder than it ever has before.

She’s spent a lot of time with the pack at the compound, but never like this, never able to be free and loose and away from chaperoning eyes. It feels incredible.

Aster’s giggling into her boyfriend’s shoulder when suddenly the world becomes a little less funny, as her eyes catch the last person she wants to see right now. Well, the second to last.

Across the room, perched on the lap of some slimy stranger, is her aunt. The woman who helped raise her, who’s virtually a second mother to her. She’s smiling at this man and running a hand through his hair, and all Aster can feel is revulsion.

She quickly slides down in her seat to retreat from the view. She can scarcely understand what she’s seeing. It can’t be real; she must be mistaken. A trick of the light. She’s drunk. She must be drunk. Or maybe she’s being fatally poisoned by the herbs and it’s all just a death induced fever dream.

Sitting up to peer around Rafe’s broad shoulders again, she’s horrified to learn that unfortunately her original assessment was correct. Her aunt is also here and having her… night out. With a man. This stranger. She kind of wishes she was dying. Is this what she meant by fun?

It feels so wrong.

Something about it just feels… so very wrong.

Despite her repulsion she can’t look away, determined to understand, to figure this out. Her gut says this isn’t right. It’s her wolf instincts, her mother told her once, and that she should listen to them. So she listens to them.

She focuses on the couple, narrows in on Tara’s racing heartbeat, on the bitter smell of the man. She wrinkles her nose in disgust. She can smell his intentions beneath the reek of sweat, hair gel, and cheap deodorant. What he wants is plain to see, werewolf or not. It should be so out of his reach. She can do so much better than him. Why is she entertaining this?

The sight of his hand coming around to cup her from behind and one crawling up her shirt has Aster seeing red.

How dare he. How DARE he.

She doesn’t realise she’s gouged furrows into the table with her claws until Rafe knocks her shoulder with his and asks her if she’s okay.

She can’t take it anymore. It makes her feel sick.

Standing up without a word, Aster prepares to intervene – getting in trouble be damned – when she feels a shiver run up her spine. There’s a twitch between her shoulder blades, and she feels her attention drawn to the bar.

Somehow what she finds there feels even more shocking.

Her mother sits at the bar across from the booth, lazily fingering a shot glass and… watching. She’s watching?

What the hell is this?

A small part of her worries about Sam noticing her, but it doesn’t take long for her to realise there’s no chance of that. Sam is as transfixed on Tara as Aster was, scowling at the scene before her. Her mother’s no happier about it than she is, so she wonders why she doesn’t do something. Anything. Why doesn’t she put a stop to it?

Aster all but falls back down into her seat, legs feeling dangerously weak beneath her. Suddenly shitty beer and stale bar snacks no longer feel appetizing. There’s a writhing in her stomach, leaving her overcome with nausea. The cacophony of noise that was comforting before now feels suffocating.

She just wants to go home.

Whatever this is, Tara will be fine, she tells herself. Mom won’t let anything happen to her. Sam won’t let her little sister be taken advantage of, or whisked away, any more than Annie would let anything happen to her. It’ll be fine. If this is… If this is what her aunt meant by having fun, then Aster will just have to… deal with that. Accept it.

God, what is she going to tell Annie?

- - -

48 hours later and Aster’s still feeling a little traumatised. She hasn’t been able to look Tara in the eye since, well, you know.

It’s been hard. She wants nothing more than to talk to someone about what she saw, to vent, but there’s no one she can turn to with this. She can’t tell Annie what happened, she worships her mother. Aster can’t bear to be the one to break that illusion for her.

She’s been pretending it’s her time of the month to hand wave away her weirdness. Unfortunately, with a werewolf for a mother, that’s not an easy lie to sell. Sam doesn’t believe it, the look on her face when Aster tried to use it as an excuse said it all, but praise the Moon, she didn’t feel the need to question it, and Aster’s never felt so grateful. At this point she’s not even worried about getting in trouble for sneaking out, she just doesn’t want to admit to what she saw.

She’s hiding away in her room, as she has been all weekend, sprawled out on her bed and wasting time on social media, when she scrolls past a picture of the very memory she’s been working so hard to repress.

With a wince, she scrolls back up the page to be faced with an image of the man who was touching her aunt that night.

It turns out to be so much more than just a selfie, it’s a missing persons announcement.

Frowning, Aster clicks through for more information. He went out and never came home that night. He has a wife, two kids. She scoffs, that didn’t stop him trying to score. He probably just ran off with some other woman.

It makes sense, but for some reason the idea just doesn’t sit right within her, it feels like she’s missing something. Something important.

From the corner of her eye, she spies a book on her desk. It calls to her. She’s drawn by the same feeling that struck her on Friday. Her gut.

The phone slips from her hand as she gets up to retrieve the book. It’s sat there untouched for so long it’s actually begun to attract dust. Whoops. It’s a pack history book, and she was supposed to have finished reading it weeks ago, but Aster’s never been much of a reader.

Collapsing back onto her bed, she starts to flip through the pages.

It’s one near the back that stands out to her. The Ancestors, the chapter title reads. It’s a boring slog describing what little is known of the old werewolves, the ones all modern werewolves are descended from.

As she speed-reads through it, spurred on by a tickle along her spine, she draws to a stop on a paragraph about Moon Madness. A curse, it says. A sickness. Characterised by a toxic silver in the eyes and tattooed across their skin. It symbolises a mark of sinners, cast out from their packs. The result of… having partaken in the consumption of sentient flesh.

The thought makes her shiver.

The illustration on the next page makes her sick.

It reminds her of the campfire stories the older wolves would tell the cubs during camping weekends, of monstrous beasts who were once wolves, who stalked the night and ate bad little wolves who wouldn’t behave. How you would never see them coming, only catch flashes of silver in the moments before they would swallow you whole.

Nothing more than a ghost story to scare the children into behaving… and yet here it is… so familiar.

She’s always known her mother was different from other wolves, from Aster’s own form. She’d never really thought about it, never questioned it. Even once she’d integrated into the local pack and realised that wolves are all very similar once shifted, it had never occurred to her to ask why her mom didn’t look the same as all the others.

Maybe she should have.

Brushing her fingers over the picture, something stirs within her. Her instincts.

They tell her it’s connected.

Her mother. Her wolf form. This man.

She doesn’t want to believe it, to think about it, but all she can see in her head is the image of her mother at the bar that night. The anger in her eyes, the way they followed his every move.

She looked like at him like she wanted to kill him.

But that’s only a turn of phrase, right? She wouldn’t- she wouldn’t actually hurt someone, would she?

Taking one last long at the picture, the cursed beast on the page that reminds her of her mother, she snaps the book shut.

She has to know the truth.

- - -

“You killed him, didn’t you mom?”

Aster waits for the denial, for the laughter. For something, anything. But there’s just silence.

Then she hears it, the hitch in her mother’s breath, audible even over the creaking of the wood as she sits back in the chair. Sam’s heart thumps in her ribcage, betraying the unaffected expression on her face.

Her mother watches her carefully, and Aster stares back, unable to look away. From the corner of her eye, she can see Tara looking between the two of them, eyes wide, her own chest beating a mile a minute.

“Say it isn’t true…”

Aster’s words are barely more than a whisper, but she knows her mother heard her. She knows. It infuriates her, the way she won’t answer her, the way she won’t say anything at all. There’s a heat rising in her, not unlike the sensation that flashes through her before a shift. It feels like her blood is boiling from within. Her claws creep out, digging grooves into the chair as she clings to it like a lifeline.

“ANSWER ME!” she roars, teeth bared. Across the table, silver eyes flash back at her, a warning, as Sam slowly rises from her seat.

“Aster, there are things you’re too young to understand.”

Sam speaks slowly, like she’s talking to some child. Like Aster doesn’t know exactly what’s happened, what’s going on. She’s not an idiot, she’s seen the evidence for herself. It’s impossible to miss, now that she knows what to look for.

“Too young? I’m 15, not a kid! And I’m certainly old enough to know that murder is wrong.”

She watches the way Sam grinds her teeth at her words, spies the peek of black claws before Sam’s fingers retreat into closed fists. Tara whispers her mother’s name, reaching out to rest a palm on her arm, muscles tense and twitching beneath it.

She’s angry.

Good.

Angry people make mistakes.

“Because it was murder, wasn’t it?”

She says it with a smirk despite the way her heart is shattering, despite the shards piercing her lungs, making it so hard to breathe. Aster knows how to wear a mask, how to hide her thoughts, her feelings. It’s how she stays so popular, how she gets what she wants. She never thought she would ever have to wear it to protect herself from her own family.

“Does Tara know?” Aster spits, nodding to the woman pushing at Sam’s shoulder, trying to get her to sit back down. “Does she know what you are? Does she know what you’ve done?” She thinks back to the other night, to the smile on Tara’s face, the tinge of excitement in the air. She thinks of the scowl her mother wore, the way she was spying on them from across the bar. She wonders how many times it’s happened before, if that’s why Annie doesn’t have a father. If that’s why Aster even exists, just another project to keep Tara happy and busy and under Sam’s control.

Despite the hand on her shoulder, Sam remains on her feet. She gently nudges Tara away before turning back to her daughter and stalking forward to stand before her.

“You have no idea why I’ve done what I’ve done.”

Sam stands several inches taller than Aster and with significantly more strength, but she’s never found her mother threatening before, and despite what she’s learned, she still doesn’t. Aster inches closer, heels leaving the ground as she stretches up into her space.

“I know why you did it,” she sneers. “You killed people because you liked it!”

The words reverberate around the room and sit ringing in their ears. Aster pants, glaring up at her mother. She’s never felt like this, never felt this… disconnected from her. It’s like she’s looking at a stranger. Maybe her mother never really existed, maybe she was all just an illusion, a mask of her own cloaking the monster beneath.

“That’s ENOUGH, Aster,” Tara snaps, pushing her way between them.

As Aster stares at her, she begins to realise that her mother isn’t the only one she doesn’t know. She can see it in her eyes, there’s no confusion, no questions. Tara’s world isn’t falling apart, not like Aster’s.

“That’s enough,” Tara says again, softer this time. “Why don’t you calm down and then we can talk, okay?”

Tara reaches out for Aster’s shoulder, but the girl just shakes it off, stepping backwards. She knew. She knows. Of course she does. How could Aster have missed it? Sam never does anything without Tara, she never so much as makes a decision about dinner without her. They’re so joined at the hip they might as well be one person.

“You knew,” she mutters as she retreats from the room, shaking her head at them. “How- How could you? You raised me to be good, but all along you were- you just… it was all a lie, wasn’t it?”

It feels like the floor is slipping out from beneath her feet, the room becomes blurry beneath tears and shuddering breaths. She thinks her legs must be about to give way below her when arms wrap around her waist, holding her to their chest.

“Hey, what’s going on? Aster?”

Annie’s voice comforts her like a light in the darkness. With her close, her tilting world becomes balanced once again, and she finds herself finally able to break in the arms of the most important person in her life; her best friend, her cousin, her sister.

Grasping at the arms holding her up, she twists in their grip to wrap her own around Annie, burrowing her face in her shoulder. The tears come easy now in her embrace, mask washed away, too desperate to find mooring to cling onto it.

“They’re monsters,” Aster whimpers into Annie’s skin. “I hate them. I hate them. Take me away, please.”

The words make Annie’s head snap up to look urgently between her aunt and her own mother, silently begging for answers. An explanation. Anything.

Sam jerks her head down and turns away, as if she can’t bear to look in their direction any longer. She catches her mother’s eyes instead. Tara breathes deep, glancing to Aster for a moment, before giving Annie a slow nod. Take her away, it says. She needs you right now.

Annie wants nothing more than to stand her ground, to demand answers, to know just what the fuck is happening, but with Aster whimpering in her arms, she knows she will put her first, as she always does.

Sam watches as Annie picks up her daughter and lead her away. She listens closely for the sound of the bedroom door closing before she lets everything out. She barely chokes back the roar that threatens to escape her as she lashes out, claws slicing through wood with ease. “FUCK,” she yells, kicking her chair over for good measure.

She hears Tara sigh and call her name, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. She can’t face her. How can she? This is all her fault. She wasn’t careful enough, she must have- she- she… “how did this happen?” she whispers.

A touch on her back coaxes her around.

“How did she find out?” Sam croaks, falling into Tara’s open arms.

“We’ll figure this out, Sam. Everything will be okay,” she promises. Tara closes her eyes and holds her sister close. She hopes life doesn’t make a liar out of her this time. Nothing is more important to Sam – to either of them – than their family.

“She didn’t mean it,” she comforts. “She’s just… shocked.”

Tara thinks of that first morning all those years ago, of waking up and learning what Sam had done, the confusion, the disbelief, the fear of what it all meant… it’s a lot. But she came around, Aster will too. She has to.

She has to.

#/mp #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #AU: fuck around and find out #Bailey's tag #“it's my birthday present to myself” i've never been so stressed in my life. i'm getting this in just before midnight lmao #my writing tag

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snow-143 · 7 months

Text

Water Coloured Tears | Jeon Jungkook

four- don’t waste my time (1.2k words)

Caffeine. What I need is caffeine, a lot of it, I decide. Maybe a pint of ice cream too.

I woke up at 9am. I'm not sure why, I never wake up early unless I absolutely have to, but when I took a look at my phone the call had not long ended.

I wish I could say that I've been productive in the past four and a half hours but that would simply not be true. I've been pacing around my apartment, more than likely disturbing my roommate.

More than likely is an understatement, I definitely disturbed him, he made that obvious when he came storming out of his room to throw a pillow at my head. I suppose I owe him a thanks considering that the well aimed pillow is what made me finally leave the apartment.

Which brings me back to my first point, I need caffeine, it's all I can bring myself to think about on my way to the café. Favouring the thought of the bitter liquid rather than the anxiety filling my chest.

At least with me getting there early I'll have time to mentally prepare myself. That's what I was hoping anyway. I even brought a book, hoping I'd have time to read a bit to distract myself, but no. Fate clearly had plans to give me a heart attack instead.

One might think I'm being dramatic, which I'll admit I do tend to get lost in my emotions a bit. However, I'm not being dramatic when I say my heart stopped. Will I ever get use to seeing his stupid face again?

Sighing I make my way over to him, not before sending a longing glace over to the counter.

When I finally reach him he's staring directly at me, looking like a deer in headlights. You'd think that I had forced him here by the way he's peering up at me.

'Quit looking at me like I'm holding you for ransom,' One thing about me is that I am not a morning person in the slightest, I may have been up for hours now, and maybe it's not even morning anymore but from the very little sleeping I had I would die to go back to bed right now. So in my eyes it is definitely still morning and I am in no mood to be looked at like I'm forcing my presence on somebody.

'Sorry,' his voice is small, timid. Although, I'm glad he's shifted his gaze from me I can't help but feel guilty at my harsh tone.

Deciding to distract myself, and him, I move the conversation onto the project instead, 'So, are you wanting to start taking photos today or just go over what we want the over all project to look like?'

And there's that look again, that's when I realise he's brought nothing with him. Not the camera, his laptop and not even a note book or sketch book. 'Jungkook, please tell me you havent dragged me here just to waste my time.'

'I havent dragged you here just to waste your time?' His expression is far to sheepish for me to even entertain the idea that he might be telling the truth.

'Enlighten me then, what was your plan when you invited me here?'

When no reply comes I stand up to leave, 'Message me when you're actually ready to work on this project, until then don't waste my time again.'

At least I'll save money on the extortionate prices of coffee on campus.

'Hey, wait a minute.' Without me even realising he's spun me around to face him again, holding my wrist much like he did after we got paired together. 'We can at least go over what we want the project to look like while were here.'

Sighing, I meet his eyes, actually meet his eyes instead of avoiding them like I have been, 'Only if you pay for my coffee, Jeon.' At this he smiles.

'You and your caffeine addiction.' It's said as a mutter. As an inside joke. A joke we used to share.

Without even waiting for a reply from me he's already making his way to the counter. I amuse myself with the thought of what he's going to order me, the picture of him trying to find something to order for me is a funny one. I just hope he picks something I'll actually enjoy.

Before I know it he's setting a drink in front of me and taking his seat opposite to me.

Looking at my drink my smile vanishes. He got my exact order. My completely bazar order that everyone questions me on. Even my favourite cookie to go with it.

My smile is back, a sad one now. Sitting here with him now feels far to familiar to when we went to visit colleges together.

I would always insist on visiting the cafes, and well he would amuse my request. I would insist that I couldn't go to a college that didn't have good coffee.

Now that I think about it we came to this café back then, sat at the table just left to us. Now it's occupied by a couple, giggling over a shared slice of cake.

I wonder if that's what we looked like back then. Wonder if there was someone in a situation similar to mine now looking at us with resentment at our happiness. I know that that's what I'm feeling right now at least. And I know that It's petty of me.

'So, I'm sure you've already got plenty of ideas for this project. What are your thoughts?' His words snap me out of my trans, bringing me back to the current situation.

He's right, I've already got so many ideas.

My favourite being that we make pieces that seem loving but you can change them to look heart broken, but also some show loving pieces mixed with the dark side of love. It'll show both sides of being in love, the ups and the downs.

I also want us to work on one of the pieces together. To show that a relationship is a partnership. Although, a massive part of me is against this as it'll mean more time spent with Jungkook, I'm willing to suck it up for the symbolism.

The rest of the time is spent with me telling him my ideas and him adding onto them. He didn’t fully understand what I meant at first but when I gave some examples me caught on pretty quickly.

I try to ignore his smile when I reveal that I've already gathered some reference pictures so we can be on the same page for the project.

As our professor said, they need to be cohesive and I'm not taking any chances on messing this project up. Even if that means I'll have to work closely with Jungkook.

'See, I knew you'd already have this all planned out. You don't even need me at this rate.' God did I wish I didn't need him to pass this assignment.

prev | m.list | next

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a/n: ik the art project doesn’t make a lot of sense rn but it’ll be more clear on what she’s planning when they actually start

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rinbowaman · 11 months

Text

HHP - Chapter 11 Part 4

Yall...I literally made myself cry. Lots of deja vu moments (if you haven't read MGR, this chapter is going to confuse you so I recommend to read MGR first) lots of recalled moments and quotes to the very T. For those of you that read MGR...man...the nostalgia.

But um...this chapter is going to hit you hard so be prepared.

The text that is in purple is the lyrics of the song that i placed in here by Kiss. I input the chorus in the exact moments as i was playing the song while imaging the scene in my head...i recommend (for the full gut wrenching experience) start the song the moment you see the track preview. You can play it on youtube if the track i input in this box doesn't work.

The game was long, and intense, however, regardless that the rival team had put up a good and lasting fight, Decellis won the final streak. The level of sportsmanship displayed between the two teams was beyond the zenith of respect and admiration, as they cheered each other on, and the rival team captain remarking Heeseung’s ability as a natural born leader.

Of course, no one could tell, but as you watched the players performed, specifically Heeseung, you observed as he had crouched down before the game started. With his eyes closed, stretching his neck from left, to right, he faces towards the center, opening his eyes back up to reveal his Ethan side partially present.

‘Huh…is that how you win every game, husband?’ you mentally smirk.

If anyone had told you otherwise, you would have looked at them in disbelief. Heeseung was a beast, you’ve seen him play a game of basketball without his Ethan side. The man had stamina, skill, and a rage that was beyond even the toughest athlete.

But Ethan, he was different.

Ethan wasn’t a beast; he was a demon. The devil prince.

Each time he came out, even if it was just half of his presence, the environment seemed to have blackened as his aura just swirled a sense of uneasiness. Maybe you only noticed, considering you were the only one that knew about his alter ego, or perhaps other people noticed and just thought it was a strange phenomenon, not at all making connections to a random young male with a dashing face and a personality such as Heeseung.

After displaying such magnificent sportsmanship and bidding the other team farewell, the boys ran towards the bleachers. All sweaty, exhausted, and drenched, they quickly make their way to the locker room to shower and change.

“Baby, meet me and Jake at the parking lot. We’ll be there shortly.” Heeseung speaks in between his pants, clearly exhausting a lot of his energy from his impressive performance throughout the game.

“Yeah, I’ll be there, take your time. I”ll wait for you.” you smiled as you placed your hands on the back of his wet hair, pulling him down to kiss his forehead. His eyes close for a moment as he continued to breathe heavily.

You didn’t stop at his forehead, you couldn’t. It didn’t matter if he was all sweaty, you just had to hold him.

Embracing his cold and wet body to yours, you softly tell him how great he was, while feeling his chest deeply heaving against yours as you held him tightly.

“Heh..heheheh. Thanks baby.” He kisses on the top of your head, pulls back slightly as he takes a moment to look at you, grabbing a slight bit of your hair in his hand as he brings it up in between you two, rubbing the strands in between his fingers as he admires your face by gazing deep into your eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, he couldn’t. He was speechless during moments like this, where he is stunned and still somewhat, even after all this time, after all that’s happened, he sometimes finds himself in disbelief that you’re in front of him, staring right back. When you respond with a smile whenever he calls your name, or how you respond favorably to his touch, even after having matching rings, and being ‘married’ to you, he still can’t believe it sometimes. You’re all that he’s ever wanted and…

‘Here you are…’

It’s not hard to understand, with something so valuable and precious, sometimes it truly feels like a dream, until he wakes up and sees that you’re still there, and that everything is real.

If only you knew how you affected him. How he wakes up every morning, and upon seeing you, he replays the entire course of events from how you first met to the very moment presently, just to make sure that he was truly awake and that he really had you.

There are times when you smile, whether you’re both walking in the park, or having coffee at your favorite café, it didn’t matter, that smile of yours, it made him wonder what higher power above had the greatest idea to create you, to put you together and give you life.

The times when he touched you, felt the skin that he had often thought about before meeting you. Recalling the many times, he laid on his bed, when he should have been thinking about Vickey, yet all he could think about, was you. Only you. He couldn’t even bring himself to think of you in a sexual manner, it was always just pure, genuine curiosity as he yearned, immensely at that, for your touch. To hear your voice whenever you said his name. How soft and smooth your skin felt when touched.

Then there were those days where he wondered how you looked when you cry, or when you were saddened or feeling fear. How desperate your eyes would look whenever you were at his mercy, knowing that his wrath was that of fervor and twisted love.

Thinking back on those days, man, it seemed like it was only yesterday that the handsome young man had the world at his fingertips, yet he was willing to trade it all for just a moment spent with you. All those college girls, literally throwing themselves at him, whether it was bumping into him in the halls, on purpose, or sitting next to him in the library and pretending that they were studying as they eyed him up and down from the side.

Sure, before he saw you, and before Vicky, he had his fair share of girlfriends, and even flings. There were even times while he was with Vicky, after finding out of her infidelity with Gabe, and he was in college as she finished high school, they had a few ‘breaks’ upon her insisting that she felt suffocated by his lack of clarity for the future, always expressing that she was concerned about financial stability.

Had she been more patient and not forceful on the topic, she would have found out that there was nothing to worry about, yet she couldn’t find the will to trust him. So, upon her requests, they’d have their breaks while he was in his second and even his third year in college. All the pretty little things that frequented the college parties or the campus facilities were never safe. One look at him, they leaked their desire to have him, and they would, for one night. After that, he’d be around, but mentally, he was gone as the girls always tried to reach through to him, begging him to be theirs.

Even if he had no intentions of getting back with Vicky to work things out, even if he had decided to remain unattached, he couldn’t find anything worth his while in these girls, there was absolutely nothing they could present to him, convincing him to claim and keep them.

He just didn’t want them. As much as it pained them to hear it, he merely used them to release some sexual tension developed from his fights with Vickey, which he only took it out during the ‘break’s, or from the heavy workload of being a top student and assisting all the professors, nearly teaching the classes himself. If it wasn’t due to sexual frustration, he sometimes had the flings during the ‘breaks’ just to perfect his craft of being the ‘sex god’ that Vickey and his former girlfriends always referred to him as.

He'd watched their faces, listen to their moans.

Not impressed. They were either forcing it, too whiny, or sometimes…

‘…What the fuck did she just say?....God…shut up. You’re cringing this….it’s embarrassing.’

Even his closest friends, like Jake would always ask him ‘How do you do it? Is it the size? How do you move? I’ve never seen so many girls die over a man like they do with you. Not in my whole life bro.’

Perhaps he got lucky? Was just blessed? At least, he used to think so. Walking around, tending to his own business, loving life as he breathes in the air around him, choosing one pretty thing after another out of a wide variety, and then to never call them back after giving them the night of their life, then re-uniting back with the beautiful Vickey after her requested ‘break’ ended, all the while knowing that his future was solid, he had the life, literally.

Then he saw you.

Oh God…he saw you.

You.

You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. . You. You. You. You.

YOU!

-Flashback-

“Oh hey, that’s your girlfriend, isn’t it? Damn bro she’s beautiful. Good job man.

“Hmph. Yeah.”

“Dang bro. You hit the jackpot.”

“……Mmhmm.”

“Hey, isn’t that her roommate? I heard about her, but this is the first time I’m seeing her. If only she’d look this way so I can get a clear view of her face then-………Oh my God.”

“Bro….is…is that her??!”

Without turning, not even a care in the world, he didn’t even bother entertaining the idea of seeing his girlfriend’s roommate.

‘Probably just like Vickey. She just wants everything. Money, nice things, status…same shit.’

“Bro I can’t believe my eyes.”

‘They just gonna keep staring?’

“Shit man…”

“Ethan, my man. You gotta either turn around and see or move out of the way so I can get a better view.”

‘What the hell? What is it with this girl?, The goddess they call her? What is it-…..’

Finally, he turns around after getting curious out of frustration….

“…………”

“Bro, she has to be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Is she even real?”

“Dang Ethan, your girlfriend’s roommate is…. man…”

“Again man, all I can say is, is she real?”

“…….….”

‘….No….she’s not. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no way that someone like her is real. She’s a figment of all our imaginations. She’s not a person. She’s not human. She’s….she’s….she’s….’

Hearing your tender voice as you laugh, staring and listening attentively to the girl standing next to you, your eyes reflected Heaven and Earth.

‘….What are you? Who are you?.....How do I get you? How do I get….you?’

The time he always ran into you as he waited, picked up, or was just hanging out with Vickey…it was excruciating for him.

Right before he saw you, when he was nearly about to break it off with his girlfriend after repeatedly trying, yet only to find her unchanged of her adulterous and distrusting nature due to her misguidance, he held off. He needed a reason to be close to you. Never even realizing or expecting that he would have a chance…him, the campus stud, wouldn’t have a chance with someone like you. Not only because you were out of his league, but the way he witnessed you love and cared for a man who clearly, in his and everyone else’s eyes, didn’t return it back.

Yet you were hopeful and remained faithful.

‘You stayed faithful…loyal…committed…true. God…how do I get her? Not someone similar to her, or someone exactly like her, but her?....I want her. I need her. I crave her. How do I become him? How? How am I going to make it knowing that I’ve seen her, heard her, and even met her….but I don’t have her…how do I go on? How will I live the rest of my life, knowing that she exists but isn’t with me? How?.....I’m scared of living, I’m scared of waking up to an empty bed, or a shared one, if it’s not her next to me, I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to live. I can’t, not unless I have her.’

That moment he walked into your darkened dorm room. Pitch black, only a single beam of light from your phone screen illuminates a small portion of your room. There you laid on your side.

‘There she is…hiding in the darkness of her tower.’

Approaching closely, the light from the screen provides enough glare to reflect the evidence of tears that stained your face, yet you still looked calm and peaceful, even with those harsh streaks that glistened with beads of despair.

‘W-why…are you crying? Who did this to you? If it’s not me, who? I’ll tear them to pieces. Don’t cry. Please…oh God…please don’t cry...not for anyone but me. So, unless it is for me….please…don’t cry.’

Composed, and ever so calm, he picks up your phone screen, he reads the contents and finds out the reason behind those shallow tears.

Approaching your bedside, he stands admiring the remarkable beauty before him. Sitting next to your bedside, he reaches out with his hand, without even thinking about it, he just acted out, and touched your face. Stroking so gently with his thumb, he feels your soft skin and watches as your eyes stun open as you ushered a shattered breath. He made you blow your cover.

‘Ah…so you were awake. Didn’t want anyone to find you, huh?’

“Who made you cry?”

“S-Samuel…”

“Yeah…I know.”

“…You saw it?...You read the email?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Why did you ask if you already knew?”

“I wanted to hear what it sounded like when you said his name.”

“Why?...”

“To see if I could understand how he felt whenever you said it.”

“….do you?”

“Mmhmm.”

You cry, your heart is filled with pain from the betrayal and ultimate realization of hard effort, on your part, gone to waste.

“I think…that if I got to hear you say my name like that…I’d go mad too…knowing that I wouldn’t be able to hear you.”

‘I’d go beyond mad, baby. I’d go crazy. I’d kill if I was suddenly left without seeing you or hearing your beautiful voice.’

“I don’t have to be the only one to understand that type of rationality, Y/n.”

“I don’t…understand what you mean.”

“You want me to show you?”

‘Say yes….say yes. Say….yes. Come on baby, let me give you the world. Say yes.’

“Ethan…”

“Not that one. Not Ethan.”

‘Come on baby, say it. Say it. Say my name. I know you heard it back there. God…fucking say my name, my beautiful girl. My goddess. My everything. Say my name and I’ll give you the world right here, right now.’

“Heeseung.”

He could have sworn there was a crack on the earth, or maybe the universe. Maybe it was all of heaven’s angels falling and crashing down to the very ground the mortals walk on. Who knows. He snapped. There was happiness, joy, excitement, bliss, lust, euphoria, thrill…just everything.

After all this time, he finally got you.

‘….She’s…mine?....Yes…she is…she’s…she’s mine....she’s mine! I finally have her! I finally have her.’

He reaches around as his arm cradles around the back of your head and he kisses passionately into you.

‘God I promise…I’ll protect you. I’ll comfort you. I’ll live for you and only you. I don’t even think I could put my own kids before you. I will never let anything happen to you. You’ll never have to worry about anything beyond these walls. Let me take care of you. Let me show you the world. Let me keep you as my reason for living. Let me give you a reason for living. Let me give you everything, from the stars to the titanium plates beneath the ground, let me give you every..single…fucking….thing.’

Yeah...even after all that, and the months that followed where he had you, he still finds himself in disbelief. You were just too good to be true.

After the boys had changed, Jake and Heeseung made their way over to the parking lot. You and Emily waited by Heeseung’s car, conversing about the game. The others had left, opting to meet up later once Heeseung and Jake were changed over.

Seeing them from afar, you and Emily spot the duo as they walked in your direction, their frames looking small from the distance between you two.

“To me, Jake is so tall, but when you see him next to Ethan…or seeing anyone next to Ethan, they look so tiny. He’s so gigantic.” Emily remarks. You found it adorable the way she examined and noted the height difference.

“Heeey!! We’re over here!” Emily calls out, waving. You see Jake waving with enthusiasm as Heeseung merely walks. It didn’t matter how far he was; you could tell he was staring right at you. You felt his eyes on you.

Out of love, there's nobody around, All I hear is the sound of a broken heart Out of time, no more waitin' for you

Feeling his sights on you, your heart slightly sank. There was this excitement after being out and about, having to display yourselves appropriately, only to look forward to whatever he had up his sleeve once you both were behind closed doors. It was sexy and so thrilling to you. You smiled, your heart melting as you found yourself smitten over his image as he continues to walk towards you and Emily. So in love and so smitten, you didn’t even notice the sound of a vehicle pull up from behind.

“Hm? Whose this?” Emily calmly states with intrigue hinted in her voice.

Now the hurtin's through, and a new day starts And I feel a change in my life, I sailed into dark and endless nights And made it alive

A man’s voice, with various…numerous footsteps. They were quick and loud. Everything happened so fast, and since it was dark, you couldn’t quite make out the clarity of the scene as quick as you normally would, but it sounded as if Emily was shoved or pushed as you heard a sharp yelp coming from her.

You hear sudden yells from afar…it sounded like Jake and Heeseung. You wanted to turn to face them and see what they were yelling for…but you couldn’t move. There was someone…or some people….your arms were pinned against your body and…someone was grabbing onto your ankles. Suddenly, you feel yourself lifted into the air, nearly paralleled to the ground as the hands that gripped your ankles lifted them high. It was happening so fast, you struggled but barely as you felt more hands on you, restraining you, pushing, and shoving you into….

‘What is this? A van?’

You hear a man’s voice screaming out your name…it was blood curling and starting to draw in closer. But it was hard to make out as there were other voices… men’s voices.

“Slash the fucking tires!”

You hear air releasing from what you assumed is Heeseung’s car tires, with Emily screaming in the background.

‘Wh-what is this? What is this!? Wh….wher-?’

The sound of the sliding door to the van is heard as it slams shut. You feel your body being scrunched up next to a window seat, where there was no door or latch, just a stationary window. Tinted.

“Fucking go!”

You hear the screeching tires as the van moves with you in it. You hear Emily crying hysterically outside.

‘I’m alone?...No…Emily…where are you? Please…Jake….Heeseung.’

His Perspective

“What the fuck!? What the fuck just happened?!? What…the….fuck just happened!?” Jake screams, panting from running and yelling, looking deeply scared and confused. He starts to rush over to Emily, who lays on the ground in disarray, crying hysterically. Glancing back, he sees his best friend with the ultimate look of shock on his face that he had never displayed before. It was the first time he’s ever seen him like this, that calm, reserved, and confident nature just shattered within seconds.

You chase. You run. You sprint. You go as fast as you can. You watch the van that she was forced into, take off. It drives slightly towards Jake and yourself, but peers away to take the next turn.

Upon the van passing you and Jake, you see her hand slamming against the tinted window. Your heart dropped the moment you witnessed the flat surface of her palm, repeatedly making contact against the glass in a panic and desperate motion.

The van rushes through, speeding pass, nearly skidding and hitting Jake, had it not been for you to sprint and tackle him out, pushing both your bodies out of the way.

Kneeling down, panting out hard and fast, watching as her hand slams against the window, your eyes stare off in the distance as the van disappears….with her in it.

Everybody's got a reason to live, baby Everybody's got a dream and a hunger inside Everybody's got a reason to live, but it can't be your love

“No…..” you whisper out.

“No…no…nononononono….no! Come back…..no come back! Come…back to me….not now…not after everything….we just…we just started……co-come back…..bring her back…”

“He-Heeseung….are you okay?”

“…..C-come back…..come back! Come back!!! y/n!!!”

You runs. You sprint. You go in the direction of the van. Jake calls out to you from the back as his voice fades out while you keep on running. You feel the expression on your face go from fear, to anger, to despair, and now…rage.

‘Keep running. Run for your life. For her life. Run! Run! Run! Fucking keep running! Don’t stop!’

“HEESEUNG!” Jake calls out.

‘Come back….please. Bring her back! After everything I went through to finally get her, we were just beginning to-…..this was just the start of everything….she told me she wanted to leave this place. She got those rings. She hugged and kissed my cold and wet body. She smiled at me. She told me she loved me. She told me she wants to be with me. You…you can’t take her away from me….not now….not ever.’

Her father’s voice echoes in your brain as you give the chase.

‘You know Heeseung, my daughter is the only light I’ve ever known. She’s the only good and pure thing I’ve ever done in my life.’

Out of touch, with myself for so long, Now a feelin' so strong comin' over me Down the line, there's a lesson I've learned

‘Please, make this easier on me. Make it easier for me to let her go….to give her to you.’

You can love and get burned, if it has to be And I see a change in my life, And I'm not alone when I'm strong inside And I realize

‘You would do the unspeakable…if it meant keeping her safe, wouldn’t you?’

Everybody's got a reason to live, baby Everybody's got a dream and a hunger inside Everybody's got a reason to live, but it can't be your love

Chapter 12

#heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reader #Spotify #heeseung yandere

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