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#i started to write this last month but i am in my feelings rn

lgcseojin · 1 year

Text

✱ BSIDE 001

FLASHBACK — APRIL 2018 : KATC IN NONSAN

A brief look into Seojin's time in basic training. ( CONTAINS: bullying, violence )

It was expected Seojin's stint in the military would be no walk in the park. His father warned him plenty of the hardships men would endure within — to which the overly confident nineteen year old assured him would be a 'piece of cake'. He could not bear to look at his mother during the induction ceremony, too focused on the guilt weighing him down and the final feeling of fingers through his overgrown hair before he loses it all.

Three weeks into basic training and it still did not feel real. The true gravity of the situation had not quite settled. Park Seojin still floated above the clouds, far above the other young men in his unit. They turned their heads away, concealing meek expressions and darting eyes. He, on the other hand, lounged about on his bed, feet propped up, music magazine held above his head as he nonchalantly flipped through the pages.

"...hey."

The opening of a door nor the sharp tone of a voice registered enough for a passing glance. ( Or perhaps he willfully ignored it. ) A melodic 'ooh' escaped his parted lips. "Gibson SG Special in cherry red satin? Damn, not for—" The printed images departed from his hands at full force. Above him lingered another trainee soldier, eyebrows curled like the devil horns of the guitar he had just been ogling. "Hey, asshole. I was readin' that!"

He had little more time to protest before hands gripped into his shirt and pulled him onto the floor.

"Sit up. I said sit up, kid! Are you fucking listening to me?!" "Yessir..." The response was laden with an exasperated sarcasm. "Louder! Tell me your name!" "Uh... YES! PARK. SEO. JIN." The flesh of his face and neck ignited in bright red, the blood rushing to the surface. "Does this look like a public bathhouse to you?" "No, sir."

"Did I give you permission to speak?" The other recruit clicked his tongue loudly. He raised his hand, pushing down against the back of Seojin's head. A resounding thud echoed against his skull. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn his brain bounced around inside.

"Quit cuttin' me off! Last time I checked, we a—"

A loud grunt forced its way from Seojin's throat. How could his body have resisted the visceral reaction? Getting a shoe stuck in the ribs happened to be far too painful to ignore. He keeled over in his spot, forehead colliding with the floor. A fair amount of drool spilled from the corners of his mouth.

"I ask you fuckers to do my chores and our little roommate said you told him not to do them. You want to look down on a higher rank like that still? Fucking punk. You do what you're told." He dug in his heel. The feeling is familiar, painful against the healing bruise in the same spot. "I'm tired of your shit and your damn backtalk."

Seojin growled out a scream and raised to his feet, stumbling forward until his head collided with the other's abdomen to bring him down. Unfortunately, he caught his footing enough to resist and push Seojin into the nearest wall. The cabinets shook violently and the other new recruits retreated back onto their beds or closer to the door.

It did not take long for punches to begin flying. A throw against a jaw, the dull sound of a tooth cracking against a sharp knuckle. Seojin pulled his hand away, the skin on the surface bloodied and scraped. A fist collided with his cheek before he had time to duck. He bites into the delicate skin of his own lip. Informal boxing lessons could only get him so far. He had been in several real fights before, typically against those his own age, his own size, back in high school. This was different. The man attempting to pummel him into the ground was of taller stature, slightly overweight, and older than him. The fire only quelled when the unit commander stormed into the room. All broke into silence.

"What do you think you two are doing, huh? You think this place is a schoolyard?"

"Commander Choi, sir!" Seojin straightened his posture and gave a salute from his temple. "This crazy as— This soldier thinks he can push us around just because he's got a few weeks start on us, sir! Someone had to show him, sir!"

The commander removed his helmet, simmering anger clear on his scar-flecked face. "You both are still ignorant trainees. If you can't make it through basic without killing each other, how will you manage in your assigned units? You want to die here?"

Both young men shook their heads, chins now tucked against their chests.

"Trainee Kang, you are several years older than Park. You should know better and I will not tolerate abuse of power on virtue of days trained. You think because you have already been assigned that you can abuse power the day before you leave Nonsan?"

Seojin shot a glare in the other soldier's direction. "If only you knew, sir."

"Can it, Park... Before your mouth gets you in more trouble." The older man scoffed. "I want you to run 7 miles around the barracks and clean the toilets until they're spotless. The rest of your unit will do the same."

The other recruit unleashed a reaction he was unable to mitigate, protesting. "Shit, we're fucking dead!"

"What do you expect? All be punished for your screw up. They were obviously too incompetent to prevent you both from fighting. Now, out of my sight. CBR training is tomorrow." He placed his helmet back on, brushing past them. "And brush up on your etiquette, you worms."

"CBR? The hell is that?" Seojin waited until the coast was clear to mutter underneath his breath.

ㅡㅡㅡ

Commander Choi paced along the new soldiers, inspecting their posture and line of sight. "Chemical! Biological! Radiological! Today, you will be given a gas mask. Once you get inside that room, a gas will be released and you will remove your masks and endure! It will not harm you but it will be incredibly painful for those moments."

The booming voice carried, each loud inflection causing the man to Seojin's right to jolt and fidget about. He reached behind to give his wrist a light pinch. He would know what it meant.

They shuffled in a neat line into the crowded concrete room, nervous hands placing the gas masks over their heads. They were instructed to take a seat along the wall as the commander laid down some sort of device that immediately billowed with a yellow gas.

"Remove them." Silence. Stillness. "Remove your gas masks!" He commanded again — to which none immediately obliged. Not for thirty seconds or so. Several of the young men exclaimed with apprehension, hands kept firmly in their laps. They glanced around the room, making fleeting eye contact with one another.

"Fuck's sake..." Seojin reluctantly placed his fingers underneath the material, lifting it over his head.

To say the gas simply burned would do the pain no justice. It seeped into his eyes and mouth, scalding the open cut on his lip that was soon overrun with drool and tears he could not stop. He managed to keep his eyes pried open enough to see no one else with their masks off. Was he too impulsive?

Commander Choi's tone was understandably displeased. "I said take them off!" His eyes focused on Seojin, who simply stared forward with bloodshot eyes. "No one will leave here until everyone has removed them!"

He took in the silence; though, every second felt closer to a minute until the pain made him helplessly numb. He did not quite remember when the rest of the unit removed their masks, a few frantically running to the locked door in an attempt to save themselves.

Humans were hopelessly selfish, Seojin knew that well by now. How many times would he willingly make a martyr out of himself? Turn himself into Icarus time and time again?

( Isn't that giving someone like me too much credit? )

The primitive human condition displayed itself clear as day when the gas dissipated and the doors finally opened. The recruits frantically poured out, leaving himself and the nervous young man sitting next to him, Trainee Jung. He brought himself to his feet despite his sore legs, calmly reaching down to grab and pull him out of the concrete room. Jung leaned against him, coughing violently.

It was not until they made their exit that Seojin threw his head back and exhaled a strangled scream.

ㅡㅡㅡ

END OF PART 1.

#✱ ㅡ alone with my thoughts. ( solo )#read at your own discretion #i started to write this last month but i am in my feelings rn #thought i might as well post it and finish the rest later when the inspo comes to me

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arklay · 1 year

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WIP DAY.

tagged by @girlbosselrond @morvaris @aartyom @risingsh0t @phillipsgraves @leviiackrman @indorilnerevarine & @denerims over the past month! sorry it's taken me so long to get to anything at all, i'm sure you guys have heard me address it enough, but thank you all so much for continuing to tag me in things while i've been inactive ♡

tagging @aelyosos @brujah @calenhads @florbelles @jendoe @lightwardens @liurnia @nokstella @nuclearstorms @shadowsofrose @shellibisshe @steelport @swordcoasts @wrymbloods @voerman & all of those who tagged me again cause i'm so behind + anyone else who'd like to share anything they're working on, not just writing! ♡

i haven't written anything since the last wip game i did, but i started trying to put diana's timeline together at the start of january, so i mean... i'll show that instead. as you can see, fatigue hasn't let me do much with it even though i've got all of her timeline already done and strewn about all over the place.

started with 1995 onwards cause it was originally going to be an ewskers timeline situation, but then wanted to include all of her backstory so i went back to the start and still have the late 80s and early 90s to get through before then, but yeah :]

it's going to include like all little moments i've thought of between the ewskers just for me and placing them on the timeline, so you can imagine how long this is going to get if i have to go to 2021 for village... like just 1996-1998 is going to be so much... she's very special to me if you couldn't tell already lmaoo

never sharing this though, it's just for me, and like will help for when i do her timeline page (more in-depth version of what's on her oc page) to just run through canon events and brief descriptions and whatnot. you understand.

everything is blurred out besides 1995 ewskers momence and the years, just cause like idk her i feel weird sharing her in-depth backstory unless it's in dms or something, just cause there's lots going on there and yeah. things. idk

i also made a carrd for twt if you wanna have a look at that :] there's some cheeky subtle things with the two resi items i used as pics hehe

actually, you know what, i'll give a lil bit from where i left of with that rewrite anyways, even though it's been months since i wrote it. but why not

Wesker left a fleeting kiss behind her ear then reached around her and hooked his fingers beneath her coat, prompting Diana to glance back at him. But all he did was gently pull it from her shoulders. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye as he hung it up on the rack by the door, his movements careful and almost calculated, until he turned back towards her, and the warmth of his body returned once more. He pressed up against her side this time, as opposed to her back, and one of his hands found a home on her waist. The way the arm it belonged to was resting firmly against her as he began leading her towards the kitchen was comforting, secure, yet unmistakably possessive. And she revelled in it. He had quite the knack for handling her just the way she wanted.

#tag games.#keep going to do picrews and just zoning out 😭 i'm so behind on literally everything but it's fine it's okay (lying)#i'm having a day and a half even though i woke up feeling okay but oh well. my last month has just been like watching videos during the day #or playing games when i have a bit more energy but like i can't do anything that requires me to actually read or write things like words #are just not computing in my brain at the moment but it's okay like i'm just exhausted and hoping soon i can get back to writing because i #still have over 30 wips going lmao but yeah it's been a time a half with lots of appointments and seeing specialists again and trying to #sort things out. i've been more active on twitter which i've mentioned before but it's just because like it's easier for me to sort of just #like and rt things and not having to do my organisation tags and things like i know that sounds so just small and simple but that's how #i've been lately like to my brain rn that seems like a really big task. so i just keep coming on here randomly for a few minutes then #disappearing so i'm sorry that i've definitely missed so much and i haven't been around to just show my appreciation and love to your #creations!! also just everything that happened in december and then a bit at the start of january too like i'm just a lil paranoid about #being on here honestly so i'm trying to get back to it and be okay with posting again and i'm going to make a promise to myself to actually #filter more tags i think? just to help me with like not exposing myself to things that do make me feel uncomfortable in any way!! i'm #rambling now but sorry sometimes i just need to lmaooo idk but yes so cute lil subtle things from my carrd i wanna talk about cause why not #i didn't have to change the blue herb from re0 besides making it brighter because it's already teal toned which is so sexy but i shifted #the hue on the spade key like SLIGHTLY like it was so little. but anyways. i use this emoji ✨ on my twitter name and yes cause sparkles but #also. three stars. the s.t.a.r.s. badge and logo :] then blue herb because i will have no poison in my safe space!!!! take a blue herb or #leave please!! only good vibes and safe space here!! spade key because i'm ace <3 i was going to include the diamond one in there as well #because am demiro and like those are the symbols in the community. ace of spades for ace. diamond for demis (both orientations)#but wasn't sure how to weave the pink through the rest of the carrd even though cyan and pink together is so pretty omg

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janitorhutcherson · 6 months

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I love your writing, please please give the world Mike comforting his partner on their period 🙏🏻 that man would be so compassionate but also confused and asking tons of questions so he can explain it to Abby when she’s older

okay so, i'm about to start my period. i can sense it, i'm cramping, i'm going insane, so here is some mike fluff!! i need this, y'all need this, we all need this rn. this isn't great, last min as always :p i promise one day i'll give yall something more quality lol. also am sorry if this isn't exactly what u were lookin' for!! i hope u enjoy :P

word count: 1,298

warnings: mentions of blood (period), swearing

summary: mike takes care of you while you're on your period. completely unaware to how it all works, he does the best he can, trying to educate himself in the process.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in pain. That was one thing you knew for sure. For the past two days, your insides had felt like Satan himself was ripping them out, tearing each part of your uterus into tiny, itty bitty pieces, perhaps even doing a little happy dance on them. As your body was stretched out on the couch, your hand gripping your abdomen, you felt like your life was flashing before your eyes. You'd called off work, waking up feeling worse than you had during that time of the month in a while. You couldn't picture yourself doing much of anything but laying on the couch in the living room of your boyfriend, Mike, and his little sister, Abby, who was much like your own. You'd slept over the night before, opting to stay there as you felt much more comfortable.

Once a month, you became queen bitch, completely insufferable to be around. You were grumpy, sick, nauseous, and aching. You couldn't help it. Your cramps were always amplified more than the average person. Your pain tolerance seemed to get weaker when the time came. With that being said, everyone around you had to suffer the consequences. You and Mike had only been together a few months. Every month, he'd get a little bit better about handling it. The first month, he was slightly standoffish, not sure if his assistance would make things worse or if it would help you. He'd offer you pain medicine, get you water when you needed it, and fetch the heating pad when you cried out in pain. He was always sympathetic, helpless in his inability to make your pain disappear. Mike loved you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to ache the way that you did.

In the following two months, he'd gotten more adventurous, even offering to go out and buy your preferred pads and tampons. Even though he brought back the wrong thing the first time (he brought back the preteen pads, which would not be helpful to your heavy flow), he was sure to correct it the next. With his learning curve coming to an end, Mike was much better with his assistance. Right as your eyes began to flutter closed, the front door to Mike's door flung open, an exhausted Mike walking through, his hair messy and his skin somewhat pale due to his lack of sleep. Although he was working normal human hours now after getting a regular job, the adjustment period was difficult. He somehow felt even more sleep-deprived than before. You slowly sat up, a confused look on your face as you glanced over at the time. It was only noon, which didn't make sense. Mike typically wouldn't be home until around 5:30pm.

"Mike?" you questioned, your voice laced with pain as your head cocked to the side.

"Yeah, baby?" he questioned back, placing three plastic bags from the store onto the coffee table in front of you. He sat beside you on the couch, moving your legs to lay across his lap. He tenderly reached his hand across you, his warm palm slipping under your shirt to touch your aching stomach. He rubbed slow and gentle circles on the tender area, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as it somewhat relieved the pain. "You feelin' any better?" he spoke softly, his tone dripping with sympathy and worry.

"Why are you home? What's in the bags?" You were confused. You didn't mean to sound like a bitch, but the pain was making you somewhat delirious, and the thought of him simply coming home early just didn't occur to you. He chuckled, shaking his head as he playfully rolled his eyes.

"Can you not just let me take care of you for once?" he grumbled, grabbing the plastic bags from the table and placing them gently into your laps. In the first bag, he pulled out a brand new pain reliever bottle and miniature heating pads. They were wireless and single-use. You could stick them into your pants and wear them around wherever you needed. He also pulled out a new bubble bath, lavender scented, that claimed to have infused pain-relieving essential oils. The next bag contained your favorite kind of chocolate, some other kinds of candy, and a little stuffed bear. The bear wasn't any bear, but one that could be heated up and again used as a heating pad. Inside of the same bag, he also pulled out a brand new box of the right kind of tampons and a bouquet of flowers. The last bag contained burgers and fries from your favorite fast-food place, something yummy to get into your aching system.

You watched in awe as he pulled out each item, a sheepish but proud grin spread across his face as he did so. He was proud of himself, mostly because he felt useful, he felt like for once he was the one taking care of you. Mike typically felt like a burden, like he wasn't worth caring for, regardless of how much you attempted to convince him otherwise. Times like these were important to him, times when he could make you feel safe, secure, loved.

"I, uh, heard you this morning. I realized you were in a lot of pain, wanted to do something nice. I took the day off of work, thought I'd surprise you with some stuff to make you feel good. Got us some lunch too, thought maybe we could go lay down in the bed and watch movies, eat some junk together? I'll take real good care of you," he said, scratching at the back of his neck with a hopeful grin. You looked back at him with your own wide grin, the churning cramps in your stomach not subsiding but instead simply not your main focus at the moment. You nodded your head, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

You helped him carry the brand-new goods and the food to the bedroom. You plopped down onto the bed as Mike leaned over you, gently kissing your head. He tucked you into the blankets, ensuring you were nice and warm. He closed the curtains tightly, all too aware of the vision-blurring headaches you got on your period. He put up one finger to signal he'd be right back. Once he returned, he had a glass of water and heated up your brand-new heating pad bear. He placed your wired heating pad onto the small of your back, pressing two kisses to your forehead again. He then insisted you lift your head, helping you to swallow the pills. After, Mike cuddled up next to you in bed.

The two of you watched random movies and TV shows for the rest of the day, his hand seldom leaving your stomach. He constantly had you wrapped up near him. He kept you medicated and fed, refusing to leave your side. Mike was content. Even though you were a bitch during this time, you were appreciative. He loved you and it was clear, he'd do anything to take care of you.

While deep into the show you were watching, you felt a pair of eyes staring into the side of your head. You lifted your head, looking over to Mike with a cocked eyebrow. "Yes..?" you questioned, staring at his somewhat nervous expression.

"Um, do you think, you could maybe explain periods to me? Y'know, all of it, the bloody stuff, the moody stuff.. I just.. wanna be prepared for Abby," he asked sheepishly. A chuckle left your lips as you shook your head.

"Of course, Mikey. I can explain it to you," you hummed, pressing a kiss to his lips before you went into detail, explaining female anatomy to your 25-year-old boyfriend.

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #michael schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson

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chococoveredsmores · 1 year

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Like anything miles 1610. I feel like everyone is writing for miles 42 and forgetting about the og!

midnight cravings - miles morales

SUMMARY: texts at 3am + a mcdonalds notif = a recipe for chaos

WORD COUNT: 561

A/N: i love midnight snacking. mcdonalds always hits harder at 2 in the morning! also sorry i keep writing miles in like situations where he isnt usually 100% Himself (sleepy, sick) so um,.. i will get to a proper one soon

WARNINGS: nothing seriously bad just fluff, food i guess, reader doesn't know miles is spiderman, reader is highkey a simp

"Ugh..." You wake up with a groan, rubbing your eyes and assessing your surroundings. Noticing the still-dark environment surrounding you, you reach out for your phone which was on the bedside table.

2:42 AM. The phone lights blare onto your face, causing you to squint. As you scroll through your notifications, two catch your eye— a text bubble from Miles sent a few minutes ago, and a promo from McDonalds for their new meal.

Miles’ message was rather cryptic, and a normal person wouldn’t understand what “ruawkkekkrkx” meant. But a few months of these kind of typos (which meant Miles was either on patrol or barely awake), and one learns the language.

On the other hand, the McDonalds notif… if it was a propaganda technique, it was definitely working on you. You click on the advertisement, and damn did that chicken burger look good…

You decide to go back to Miles’ text. After opening the app and keyboard, your fingers feel too heavy to type… so you tap on the call button instead.

After exactly three rings, he picks up; in place of his normally spunky voice was a low, raspy one.

“Hey. You good? What’s with the random call?” Damn, his voice was unintentionally sultry as hell. Would it be weird if you started screen recording? He wouldn't know, right?

Ahem. Anyway.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little hungry though. I just didn't wanna type. Um, nice voice by the way." You hear a chuckle through the screen.

"So, you hungry? I mean, I could like, get you a snack or whatever."

"It is literally 3 in the morning right now." Though you expressed disapproval at what he said, your facial muscles tugged into a smile.

"Whatchu want?"

One link to a McDonalds meal later, you're patiently waiting in a now dimly lit room, phone in hand and still in bed. You decide to watch a show while waiting.

You're midway through your show, engrossed in a particular fight scene when you hear your window open with a click. Your fight or flight senses kick in, and you jump out of your bed and grab your phone and lamp (it's the nearest weapon, so...).

You watch as a dark figure comes out of the window in fear, you are ready to swing your lamp and dial your nearest police station when the figure raises both their hands in the air, to signify peace...?

The person pulls up their mask to show their face, one that you'd instantly recognize anywhere.

"Miles!"

You drop everything and sprint to his arms— literally nothing, not even a meteor, could stop you at that moment from wrapping yourself around his lean figure. Miles places his hands on your back, and the two of you relish in each other's presence.

You wish the two of you could stay like that forever, but the enticing smell of a chicken burger and drink eventually draw your attention towards it and you pull away from him.

"Can we talk about how the hell you got to my window with me living in the 21st floor? I seriously thought that the moment you clicked open the window was going to be my last for a few seconds."

Miles smiles and slightly bites his lips, and God forbid the kinds of things you would do for this man.

"Maybe over a chicken burger?"

a/n: to be completely honest i cringed so hard typing this fanfic but i just need to finish it so i hope none of you umm.. feel what im feeling rn at my own writing...

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #itsv #spiderman: into the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales fluff #miles morales imagines #miles 1610

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cheollipop · 8 months

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So maybe I am just emotional but I am in the soft girl hours of the sleepover.

You know I love big, kinda dumb men that are in touch with their feelings, Song Mingi... Just imagine having a bad day, a rough week, or an okay month. It kind of seems like it's dragging on, and for the sake of holding on, you try to keep pushing forward. Today is not a push-forward day. Water overflowed in your bathroom; you have to turn the water off bc there's no off value to that pipe. You are a little behind on work, and the sites that you need are down, and the deadline is closer than you would like it to be. All you want is a warm shower and to curl into the covers until you forget what day it is. Mingi notices you slowly folding into yourself. It's difficult to be present with so much to worry about. So today he called just to check in. Through blurry eyes, you answer. Unable to hold the dam back any longer, you let out a soft sob, and he's throwing on his coat and snatching his keys off the counter to come get you.

Mingi stays on the phone with you until he climbs the stairs to your apartment. Opening the door to him, there are dried tear marks on your cheeks that you have failed to wipe completely away, but he just wraps you in the biggest hug. His hands pull you close and tight, squeezing a few more tears from your eyes.

"Let's go shower at my house. Then I'll feed you while we watch TV on my couch. That sound good?" He mumbles before pulling you back to look at you. Pinching your lips tightly together, the worried look on your boyfriend's face just makes you want to cry more, but maybe a nice shower and some private time is what you need to clock out of life for a bit.

Shut up, I'm going to cry my eyes out lolol

Nora I am too soft for life rn

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

oh, my nabi. the warmth and comfort this made me feel—reading your ask and writing it out—drove me to tears, on multiple occasions. i was initially saving this drabble for a bad day, and ended up starting it after a particularly taxing one, but I actually wrote most of this while feeling quite...happy. so putting myself in mingi's shoes instead of reader's was the way to go, i guess. I really hope I did this justice, and that it floods you with lots and lots of comfort <3

pairing: bf!song mingi x gender neutral!reader

w.c.: 0.8k

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, mentioned symptoms of anxiety & depression, non-sexual nudity (they shower together)

note: you are not alone

The drive to his apartment was silent, save for the wind blowing through the cracked-open windows to send short, blonde strands flying in different directions. The sun had departed from its locus, descending the changing sky to kiss the horizon, a gradient of orange and pink painted before your eyes. Your gaze moved off the breathtaking scenery to focus on Mingi—a hand resting over the leather wheel while the other locked with yours, glancing over at you every few minutes, squeezing your fingers to remind you of his presence.

As if you could forget, you thought, as he guided you down the hall to his door, twisting the keys while your hands remained intertwined, his thumb drawing soothing circles over your skin as he ushered you inside with a swing of his arm.

Steam engulfed the small bathroom, the warmth of the shower brushing against your skin as delicate fingers helped you out of the hoodie you should’ve washed last week. Mingi didn’t complain, though; he didn’t even comment, wordlessly adding it to the pile of clothes building up in the corner. Your insecurity must have bled into your expression, strong arms pulling you ito his chest and plush lips pressing against your forehead.

“I’ve got you,” was all he said, but it was though you were already immersed underneath the balmy stream, a comfortable heat searing through your skin as he held you against him.

With your back to him, Mingi noted the way your muscles slackened under the steaming water, the soapy droplets rushing down the curve of your spine while he worked his fingers through your hair, hoping his shampoo was strong enough to cleanse away some of the burden you’d carried on your shoulders, the dread he’d helplessly watched eat away at you for weeks. Twisting your body to face him, his thumb and pointer closed around your chin, tilting your head back to rinse the scented suds out of your hair, leaning forward to press his lips to your cheekbone while the water warmed your scalp.

Washing away weeks-worth of grime and self-loathing with delicate palms and a lathered washcloth, Mingi silently spoke of his infatuation, his care, his unconditional, overwhelming devotion to you. Even when you were broken, anxious, blind to any and every possibility of a future worth looking forward to. Mingi was there, calloused hands picking up the brush you’d broken and painting tomorrow, then the day after, one stroke at a time—open fields of daisies and sunflowers, the hopeful orb of light splaying golden rays over the land while the man with the grown-out roots stood amidst the flora, pearly teeth reflecting the daylight as he watched you approach him, his warmth seeping into your very soul as you buried yourself within his embrace.

You felt light, your breathing steady while you rested your head on Mingi’s chest, his thighs on either side of you as you curled up in his lap. You’d heard the doorbell while you were dressing, walking into the living room to find takeout containers spread out over the coffee table, and a shoujo anime paused on his TV.

“It’ll pass,” he spoke, tapping the spoon against your bottom lip and watching you take the steaming food into your mouth. Your eyes remained downcast, and he noticed hints of guilt tainting your features as you processed his words with inexorable disbelief.

“Mingi-“

“I know it’s difficult to see it now, so I’ll believe it for the both of us,” he held his lips to your forehead, your eyes fluttering shut and heartbeat erratic. Not because of anxiety, or dysphoria, but because of the overwhelming sense of tranquillity Mingi flooded into your chest so easily, the animation in your peripheral and the cheesy sound effects now masked under the faint movement of his lips over your face, planting kisses over the trail of tears rushing down the skin. “I’m here, (y/n). You don’t need to go through this alone.”

And you didn’t. Episode after episode played on the big screen, takeout containers and popcorn bowls resting empty on the coffee table while you remained encompassed within Mingi’s arms. The moonlight, aided by the warm hue of his standing lamp carved shadows over the drowsing man’s face, and you took in the slight part of his lips, pretty eyes shut as he explored the dreamland, limp arms somehow still firm around your figure, as though he couldn’t bear to leave you alone again, even while dormant.

The overbearing weight of your thoughts had long since mitigated, your chest rising and falling to the same rhythm as Mingi’s, and now that it was no longer overcrowded with taxing angst and negativity, hints of credibility laced themselves into his words. You ran your pointer over his knuckles—his fingers draped over your hip—a silent ‘thank you’ stuck in your throat as you mooned over the tomorrow he’d drawn out for you. A tomorrow you wanted. A tomorrow you didn’t dread. A tomorrow illuminated by a gentle sun, and a contagious, toothy smile.

#panda's 2k sleepover o(≧▽≦)o #cromernet #song mingi x reader #mingi x reader #ateez x reader #song mingi fluff #mingi fluff #song mingi angst #mingi angst #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #song mingi imagine #song mingi scenarios #mingi scenarios #song mingi x gn reader #ateez x gender neutral reader #ateez x gn reader

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user2772636 · 1 month

Text

So American

Oh God, it's just not fair of him

•○●$☆$●○•

When your french boyfriend loves to tease you about how "american" you are, you just think you should write a song about it.

---

Actor!Joseph Descamps x Singer!Reader

Warnings: none but flufffff

---

Joseph Descamps wasn't fond of the fact that "the americans" drove on the right side of the road or that the wheel was on the left side of the car. But you grew up here, and he trusts you.

It helped him relax, knowing what you were wearing. His famous brown leather jacket with an "I ♡ Paris" shirt on the inside. You looked like a tourist in his country, but he guesses you look "trendy" here.

He places his hand on your thigh, and it's warm enough to make you shiver in relaxation.

To you, Joseph Descamps was the dream boyfriend. He's pretty, tall, smart, funny, fashionable, and even more. What you liked most was his accent and the way he speaks his mother tongue. He's almost too perfect, like a man you'd only find in poems.

Every time you cracked a joke, he'd laugh uncontrollably. He understood every one of them, clinging on the words like a ladder.

When he saw an american flag in the back of your car that you hadn't taken out since the fourth of july, he teased you about being so american. You could only roll your eyes, planning on kissing those teasing lips later.

Every time you kissed, it felt like so many emotions filled you up, but you absorbed it in every type of way. It felt so nice, it felt so good. He made you feel like this and only him.

Being honest to yourself, you'd marry the man. Sure, you're young, and sure you've only been together for a year, but you love him, and he loves you.

•○●$☆$●○•

You get a call from your producer and long-time best friend, asking if you were free over the week, having come up with an idea for a single.

"Well, I think I do. You know how I've been with Joseph these past few months since my break? Well, he's just so perfect. I mean his fluffy hair, his pretty eyes, his pretty pink lips, and his accent, God, his accent. He's so well read and so well dressed and he-"

"Hun, you're rambling again." Fuck. This is the 5th time.

"Sorry."

Plus, every time you lie on your bed, planning on taking a nap, it's so hard to do when he's literally right beside you, available for kissing and cuddling and loving. You're so in love with the boy you sacrificed your beauty sleep. Imagine that.

Okay, so this might be a bit much a bit too soon. But if love ever came up, he'd be the first in my mind. I haven't said I love you yet, and he hasn't either, but I know deep inside me I do. I really fucking do.

•○●$☆$●○•

"Joseph?" He tilts his head up from his paperback, raising his brows.

"Yes, mon ange?" He scoots a bit closer, bringing his arm around my shoulder.

I smile to myself, thinking of a game. "Think of a number."

He smiles back, this game all too familiar for him. "Okay." He pauses. "1, 2, 3..."

"6."

"I love you." I whisper, looking into his eyes from below.

He only stares, lips slowly turning up into a smile.

"I love you, too." He pauses again.

"Je t'aime, mon ange. Je ne peux pas respirer sans toi. Chaque fois que nous sommes séparés, tu es toujours dans mon esprit. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime." He kisses my lips after every I love you, and my breath stumbles at his confession.

"I don't understand what you're saying!" I laugh, kissing him back on occasion.

"Good." Another kiss. "It's too much for now. Just know I love you." The next kiss lasted longer. It was gentle, it was hungry, it was love.

•○●$☆$●○•

When "So American" came out, it hit the charts. Everyone loved it, and everyone supported it.

That's when they started to get the idea you, famous pop singer Y/N L/N, was dating famous french actor, Joseph Descamps.

Well, we'll see how long we can keep it from them.

•○●$☆$●○•

2 in a row?!?!??! So crazy rn. Its literally 2 am here and im sweating balls over the summer heat. This is hella short sorry but i wanted this so bad.

#joseph descamps #joseph descamps x reader #mixte1963 #fame au #singer #actor #secret relationship #so american #olivia rodrigo #french men #fluff

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lfghughes · 1 year

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Hello 🤭

I really love your writing! You even have me reading for certain men I don’t care much for just cause I really like the way you write lol

Could I request a Trevor piece? Maybe him gushing any his wife and newborn in an interview? I am so hooked on the dad!Trevor fics rn 🤧

a/n: im so happy you like my writing, thank you so so much also thank you so much for requesting dad!trevor

Trevors life had definitely changed substantially in the past few months. Every single part of the pregnancy had been exciting and he could still remember the way his heart felt when his wife had told him she was pregnant. As more time passed he had only gotten more excited and nervous too because they both would be responsible for a small human. Before he got married and had met his now wife he barely could take care of himself and now he was going to be a father.

Life changed but it changed so beautifully for him. When his daughter was born and he got to see her for the first time, something just clicked for him. He had waited so many months for this moment and her precious life was in his hands. He knew that day going forward everything he did in his life would be for her and for his wife. Going back to work was hard because once they had gone home with the baby he didn’t want to leave the nursery much less the house.

But now he was slowly getting back into the groove of things. Tonight was his first game since the birth of his daughter and he was excited and nervous all at once for it. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous but maybe it was because his mind was still on going home and seeing the baby. That fear quickly went away because while on the ice he thought about her but still remained focus.

After the game he got told he was getting pulled for an interview and he had a feeling he knew about some of the questions. “Hello Trevor, we heard congratulations are in order. New baby at home, how are you feeling? Tired?” The interviewer asked and immediately a smile grew on his lips. He was already a talker but now forget it. “I’m great, my wife is a warrior and getting to watch her with our daughter the past couple of weeks has been amazing.”

“Definitely tired but it’s so worth it and I’m really looking forward to going home and getting to see my baby girl tonight even if she’ll probably be asleep by the time I get there.” Trevor moved to pull out his phone, pulling out his photo album. “Here I’ll show you some pictures. This is all I’ve done basically for the last couple of weeks. That and a lot of diaper changes.” He chuckled as he started showing the interviewer photos.

He was officially that dad who had to show pictures of his baby to everyone around him. They quickly wrapped up the interview and Trevor made his way home as quickly as he could. Once he got home his wife gave him a smile as he walked into the nursery to where she was holding their sleeping daughter in her arms. She raised a finger to her lips to make sure he wouldn’t talk too loudly. “We watched your game tonight and your interview.” She smiled at you, letting you know she heard every word you said. “Here want to hold her for a bit? I think she missed you."

#trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras

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fivestar-outlaw · 10 months

Text

New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Ch. 3)

Chapter 3: Scorpions

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Words: 3.5K+

Warning(s): insecurities and discussion of insecurities, angst, someone's rude to MC :( (None of the guys), slight hurt/comfort, dumbdumbs in love but dont realize each others feelings

A/N: Here is chapter 3. I think this one is the second hardest to write (The fourth chapter is kicking my ass rn). I'm not sure how I am feeling about this chapter? I had like three/four different ideas for it. Sooo I did a 'spin the wheel' and went with what it landed on for this lol. I feel like this is the weakest chapter but it has some charm. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy <3

Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST

Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.

Series Masterlist | Navigation

"I can't tell her, Woo." Seonghwa sighed.

Wooyoung nearly ripped out his hair at the very similar phrase he has heard you tell him before. The others all groaned as they lounged around in the recording room, 10 minutes before they needed to start recording and re-recording lines for their last song on the next album.

It was now February, two months since Seonghwa figured out his feelings towards you that night you fell asleep on video call. He immediately told Wooyoung the next day he had been right and ever since then, the younger has been trying to push Hwa into confessing. He even tried assuring the older male that you most likely returned his feelings without giving away you told Wooyoung you developed a crush on Hwa just a few days before Hwa told him.

Woo's mind thought back to his conversation with you a week ago.

"I don't think he likes me like that, Woo. No matter how much you tell me." He heard you say with a dejected tone through the call. He had snuck away on his own during practice, having the choreography down before the others. "I mean, I met him as a fan. I don't want him to think I offered him to sell turnips for this outcome."

"I don't think he assumes any ulterior motives, (Y/N)." He said softly. "He speaks fondly of you."

"And that's another thing. He is Seonghwa. He is the super kind, very lovable, handsome, and talented guy who loves to mimic his villagers, build Legos, and is an all around great person. It's hard not to fall in love with him... and then there is me. The average looking, college student working at the local bookstore. I feel so inadequate-"

"Hey. Don't speak like that about yourself." He scolded, his tone and facial expression serious. "You are amazing. You are beautiful. You've been a great friend and we all deeply appreciate and love you."

"Sorry." You sigh. "I just... I want to believe you, but it's hard, you know?"

"I get it, I do. Just... keep thinking on it, okay?" Wooyoung smiled sadly. He could see the self-doubt was still eating at you and his words didn't fully penetrate the self-conscious wall you built up. He just hoped you'd keep holding out long enough for him to try and push Seonghwa into confessing.

"Okay, why not then?" Yuhno asked, exasperated.

"It's clear she only views me as a friend. And I am fine with that."

"You don't know that for sure, hyung." San offered a kind smile.

"Are you guys sure (Y/N) likes me like that?" Hwa gave them each a pointed look. Everyone tried arguing that it was clear to them you did, though the only one who knew for sure was Wooyoung. "I... I truly come to appreciate her and every time we speak I feel like I am falling further and further for her. She is sweet, funny, gorgeous, and I feel my heart is always about to burst when talking with her..."

"He's a love sick puppy." Yeosang teased, making everyone chuckle. The eldest's face adorned a bright blush but he made no attempt argue against the notion.

"It's adorable seeing you crush so hard on someone, hyung." Mingi cooed.

"Why not try and talk to her now? It should be..." Hongjoong looked at the time, seeing that it was nearly 10am for them. "... about 6pm for her. Try gauging her feelings for you and bring up wanting her to visit next month for her spring break."

"I don't know..." The eldest unlocked his phone and had your contact pulled up. Wooyoung immediately moved spots and sat next to Seonghwa.

"Seonghwa-hyung, just go for it. We are all here cheering you on." Jongho smiled softly and the others nodded in agreement.

"And its not like your confessing now either. We've told you the signs, now watch for them." Wooyoung added. The others decided to join in on the call, hoping to catch anything that gave away you had feelings for their friend.

Seonghwa took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling as he pressed the call button. He felt two large hands on both shoulders pat him and give a firm squeeze as he slowly extended his arm to make sure everyone could be visible to some extent. He felt anxiety building up with each ring, waiting anxiously for you to pick up.

They all smile when you finally pick up. You were sitting at your desk, adding what looked like the finishing touches of your makeup on your face. You looked at the camera with a small smile before you looked down, picking up a tube of lipstick.

"Hello boys. Usually you text me before you start a call. What's going on?" You ask, eyes flickering to the phone again before you focus on your hand mirror.

Seonghwa felt Wooyoung nudge him off camera. "I wanted to check in on you, (Y/N), and they all decided to join me."

"Aw, really?" Your face seemingly brightened at the fact and the eldest could feel Jongho on his left excitedly tap his leg.

"Compliment her, Hwa." Hongjoong hissed into his ear, a toothy grin was on his face as an attempt to mask any suspicion.

"Did one of you say something?"

"O-oh it must of cut out." Seonghwa nervously chuckled. "I said you look amazing. Is there a special occasion going on?"

You got a bit bashful and smiled, though everyone could tell it didn't fully reach your eyes. "I got asked out on a date."

Seonghwa felt like he was punched in the gut.

But his face remained soft with a smile.

"Really? Who is the person?" He asked, his voice steady.

The others eyed him in concern but did their best to mask it while on video.

"His name is Charlie. He is in my English course this semester. We worked on some in-class assignments together a few times before he asked me out today."

"I'm happy to hear. Well, we better get going. We are about get to recording." Hongjoong could pick up some shakiness in Hwa's voice. "Have fun and please periodically message me, just to give me peace of kind on your safety."

"Thank you, Seonghwa, and I will." You gave them a wave goodbye before hanging up the phone.

It was silent in the room. Seonghwa slowly lowered his arm, resting his phone and hands in his laps. The smile he had dropped just as slowly as he took in a deep, trembling breath.

"Hwa, are you okay?" Hongjoong hesitated, placing his hand on his friends shoulder.

"Yes. I'm fine, Joong." He asserted, getting up from the couch.

"Are you sure?" San asked.

Languidly, the eldest turned to face the rest. Their breaths caught in their throats. His eyes were full of tears, his lips were quivering as he still maintained his smile.

"I told you guys I am just a friend to her. And I will be fine with that." He sniffled, one tear rolling down his cheek. He hastily wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. "Please, lets drop it and get work done today."

"Of course, hyung." Yuhno spoke with a comforting voice and stood up, wrapping an arm around the older males shoulders. "Lets grab some waters together." Carefully, the taller of the two led Hwa out of the room. The second the door closed, everyone exhaled.

"Maybe...Maybe we were wrong." Jongho mumbled.

"No we weren't." Wooyoung insisted, pulling out his phone.

"Wooyoung-" San tried to speak but the younger male kept talking.

"We weren't! (Y/N) told me herself she likes Seongwa!" The others watched as he called you, pressing speakerphone.

The phone rung a few times when they hear the line click.

"It's just me, (Y/N)." Woo gave the others a look to be quiet. "What was that? What do you mean date?"

"Exactly that, Youngie." You sighed, your voice sounding as if it lacked any confidence.

"But you like Seonghwa... You love him."

"... I do." The others in the room looked at each other in shock, their eyes wide.

"Then why did you agree to the date, (Y/N)?"

There was a moment of tense silence before you spoke again, starting your sentence off with a sniffle.

"Because I can't logically believe he likes me the same way. He just see's me as a friend and I just feel so inadequate to be on any level with him." You faltered. "I don't have any particular feelings for Charlie but I... I just wanted to try to get over loving Hwa."

"(Y/N)..."

"I need to get going Woo. I'll... message you tomorrow." Before he could say anything more you hung up.

The room was just as tense as before. No one knew what to say. Wooyoung pressed his lips tightly together as he kept his own tears at bay. When they heard the door open everyone else started getting up and getting ready to start recording. Seonghwa looked to have calmed down. Wooyoung refused to look at his oldest hyung until he could calm down.

---

After the video call with Ateez and the call with Wooyoung, you decided to try to to push any negative thought aside and finish getting ready. You put together a outfit that wasn't too fancy but still looked nice. You styled your hair the way you liked most for things like this. Overall, despite the heavy heart, you felt cute. You left your place with an Uber, figuring you may have something alcoholic to drink, with enough time to get to the restaurant on time, sending a message to Seonghwa letting him know you were heading there...

You glanced at the clock on your phone for the umpteenth time. It had been an hour since your uber dropped you off at the restaurant, 50 minutes since you were sat down at a table, and 35 minutes since that sinking feeling in your gut that you had been stood up started kicking in.

You sighed dejectedly as you finished paying for the meal you ordered. You may have been stood up but you weren't going to let that stop you from a nice meal. Luckily your waitress was kind and nobody paid you much mind. You felt that any pity sent your way would make you feel worse.

You slowly walked outside the restaurant, your phone out as you get ready to order another uber, when you heard loud cackling. Your head turned to the left and just a few cars down in the parking lot was Charlie in a car full of people. They were all laughing and looking at you.

It felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over you.

Ignoring them and the button to confirm the uber, you started walking in the direction of your apartment. You needed to get away. You could feel your chest tightening with humiliation and panic.

"Oh come on, (Y/N). It was a joke!" You heard Charlie yell but you just kept walking. You heard the car roar with life and could hear from their rolled down window various jokes directed at you.

They all cackled and decided that was enough teasing. Charlie then nearly squealed his tires as he drove away. The tears you kept at bay finally spilled over. You hiccupped as you glanced down at your phone. It was 8pm for you, which meant it would be around noon for him.

You didn't think, really. You just knew you needed to hear his low toned, comforting voice. You opened your phone and immediately dialed Seonghwa, pressing your cell to your ear as you walked back to your place. You felt pathetic but you knew you needed to speak to someone or else you would be a sobbing mess if you were left to stew.

---

It was lunch time in the canteen area at KQ when Seonghwa heard his phone ring. His brows furrowed when he saw your name on the screen. He finished his last bite and quickly wiped off any possible crumbs on his hands with a napkin.

"Didn't she leave for her date like an hour ago?" Mingi tilted his head, everyone else had a confused look.

Seonghwa pressed the green answer button and raised his phone to his ear.

"(Y/N)?" His voice with smooth and low. "You're calling me so soon-"

"Seonghwa..." He heard your voice trembling, making him freeze. His face must of gave away to the others something was wrong, as they stared at him intently.

"Hold on, (Y/N). Let me go somewhere private." He quickly got up fron his seat and wasted no time getting into the hallway where there were less people. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"I-I got stood up." You sniffled.

"What?"

"I sat there for an hour looking like a fool. And then... And then I went to leave and I saw him outside in his car with his friends." Seonghwa could feel his blood start to boil with anger. "They laughed at me. They made fun of me." He could hear you take in a shuddering breath.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm walking home..."

"How long until you get back?"

"Maybe... Maybe 10 or 15 more minutes?"

"Stay on the phone with okay? I want to make sure you get home safe." He needed to take deep breaths to stay calm. In the corner of his eye he saw the others leave the canteen, though they stayed back, giving him and you some privacy.

"I just don't get what I did wrong to-"

"You did nothing wrong, (Y/N). Don't start blaming yourself for some asshole's behavior." He glanced to his friends, feel a pinch of confidence. "You are a wonderful person. It's his loss."

There was silence for a moment.

"Did I interrupt work?" You asked in a small voice.

"No, I was just finishing lunch. Did you eat?"

"I had something small after I realized he wasn't showing up." Hwa felt some relief when he heard your voice getting steady. "I'll probably have some ice cream when I get home."

"It better not be mint chocolate chip." He joked and smiled when he heard you giggle. "You really did look amazing, by the way. You should send me and the group chat any selfies if you took any. I'm sure the others would like to see the full look."

"Really?" Your voice was meek.

"I would never lie to you... You truly look beautiful. You always do."

"Thank you, Hwa. I really needed to hear that, especially from you." He could hear your voice tremble again.

"Don't start crying because of me, jagiya." He gently teased, the petname slipping out seamlessly.

"Where are the others?"

"They are watching me down the hallway I'm in." He looked over and saw that they were still there. Wooyoung, San, and Jongho kept their eyes on him while the others were looking at their phones, occasionally looking back at the eldest.

"Am I keeping-"

"I want to be talking with you. They can all wait." Seonghwa huffed, which pulled a giggle from you. He was glad he was able to get you to cheer up, even if it was a miniscule amount. "They are very concerned for you though."

"You can tell them what happened. Woo will bug me when he can until I tell him."

"He is good at that isn't he?"

"Too good." You snort.

There was another moment of silence before Hwa spoke again.

"How close are you to home?"

"Uh..." You pause. "I'm pretty close. I'm passing the park thats nearby. I'll probably be there in two minutes."

"Good." He hummed. "I'm glad you called me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Besides enjoying the sound of your voice, I am glad you felt comfortable enough during this vulnerable time to reach out to me. It warms my heart."

"I'm glad you answered."

"For you? Always. Well, unless I am on stage or Joong is lecturing us." He couldn't help but beam when he got you to laugh again.

"I see my apartment. I'm walking up to the door now." Hwa heard your keys jingle in your hand. "I'll let you go now. Thank you for everything, Hwa."

"It wasn't a problem at all. I'll check in on you when I have the time okay?"

"You don't have to." He faintly heard you unlocking the door and then heard the door close.

"I want to." He smiled. "Get comfortable, have that ice cream, and smile for me okay, (Y/N)? I'll talk to you soon. Have a goodnight in case you fall asleep."

"Have a good rest of your day, Hwa." There was a lingering pause before you ended the call.

Seonghwa let out a deep sigh, his face dropping into a scowl as he pocketed his phone. The rest of Ateez took that as a sign to approach him. They nearly froze when they saw the angry look on his face.

"I'm going to need one of you to stop me from buying plane tickets right now." Hwa muttered.

"What happened?"

"Why are you so upset?"

"Is (Y/N) okay?"

Were questions all asked at the same time.

"Let's get back to the recording studio first." Hongjoong offered. It took a lot of restraint for them to not run down the hallways.

The second that door closed to the studio, everyone turned to look at Seonghwa, who still looked pissed off. He sat down on the couch staring past the glass that viewed the recording booth. He needed to take a moment to calm himself down.

"Did something happen to our dear (Y/N)?" Wooyoung sat next to the older male, looking at him with desperate eyes.

"She called me crying, saying her date stood her up." Seonghwa finally spoke. Everyone let out shocked noises and some curses. "That's not even the worst of it. She said he and his friends were waiting for her to come outside to make fun of her."

Wooyoung pulled out his cellphone. "I'm buying you and I plane tickets."

"Count me in, I want to beat that guys ass for making her upset." San sat on the other side of Seonghwa.

Hongjoong quickly snatched Wooyoung's phone.

"Hey-!"

"You won't be making a spontaneous trip to her place and you all are definitely not going off to fight this guy." He said, using his captain voice.

"Come on, hyung. It'll be worth it." Jongho tried bargaining but quickly stopped at the look he got from their leader.

"Seonghwa." Seonghwa's attention was on Hongjoong's face after he called his name. "You already did most of your recording today. Unless you want to hang out with those who still need to record and need to re-record, or do some choreography practice with Yuhno, you should head back to the dorm and spend some time with (Y/N)."

"Thank you, Joong." Seonghwa smiled and gathered his belongings.

"We want to spend time with her too." Wooyoung whined.

"Too bad. You're assisting Yuhno after you re-record your lines." The eldest male smiled at his friends playful banter as he left the room.

He quickly fished out his cell and called you as he walked down the hallway. He was heading to his managers office to get home. He wasn't entirely sure if he had the confidence to confess right now, nor did he want to spring on a confession to you after the night you had... but he wanted to let you know he would be there for you. That he would never let you feel less than or alone. That stupid guy lost his chance and Hwa wanted to be the one treasure you. He was going to confess and tonight would be the start to his plan to do so.

"Seonghwa?" Your voice sounded confused when you quickly answered.

"Hongjoong is giving me the rest of the day off. Do you want to watch a movie with me? Or we can play Animal Crossing? Whatever you want, I want to do it with you." He took in a deep breath. "I'll even pick up mint chocolate chip ice cream and we can eat it together."

You laughed. "Sure, I would love that."

There was a pause in the conversation. Seonghwa was now waiting in front of the manager's office.

"I have a question for you, (Y/N)." He wanted to wait for later to ask his question but Seonghwa felt he had the confidence to ask now.

"What is it?"

"You said you took time off work for your spring break next month, right?"

"Yes, I have the Friday before that week off to Monday after it. Why do you ask?"

"Come visit me." He was shocked he got it out.

"What?"

"Come to Korea and visit me. I'll help pay for the flight and you can stay with us at the dorm. Is the issue with your passport?"

"My passport is fine." You sighed and took a moment before speaking again. "Are you sure, Hwa? Are the others okay with that? What about-"

"Everything will be fine. The others, our manager, and I have already discussed this in length and will probably want to discuss with you later."

"Well..." You didn't speak, which had Seonghwa feeling rejection would soon follow. "I would love to."

"...Is this a yes?"

"Yes it is." You chuckled. "I've been actually thinking of planning a visit after I graduate in May, but honestly, the sooner the better."

"Make sure to message the others about this, they'll be so happy." He smiled, unable to hide his excitement. "I am about to leave the office here soon. I will call you when I am back at the dorm."

"Get back safely."

"Of course. I will talk to you soon."

"And- Fuck!" You swore loudly.

"Is something wrong?" Worry seeped into his veins at how your voice sounded.

"I got stung by scorpion while island hopping."

Taglist: @stopeatread@hee0soo@pocketjoong-reads@seonghwaddict@tridkeys

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coldresolve · 2 months

Text

Hi, I'm Elias, I'm a 26yo trans guy from Denmark. I write shit, I draw shit, and I get into unneccesarily tedious arguments with anons about torture apologia in fiction. I think that sums up my vibe

I've made a few posts about this already, but tl;dr: the Danish NHS has been refusing to treat me for gender dysphoria for the better part of a year now because they've deemed me "unstable." Unstable how, you ask?

I have depression.

No, that is quite literally it. Full context under the readmore.

Fighting to be heard and having the door repeatedly slammed in your face sucks peak ass, and I'm done now. The NHS is so lackluster when it comes to trans people, all of a sudden, it makes perfect sense to me why 31% of transgender Danes get HRT outside of the NHS.

And I'd rather not have to turn to the black market, so rn I'm hoping to get a prescription with GenderGP. The issue is, I'm poor as fuck and can't afford the start-up fees for the forseeable future - unless I do something like this. I hate asking others for money, and I hate it even more if I'm not in a place where I can give anything in return. But I also recognize I'm in over my head with this, so. If you've got a cent or two to spare, I'd be grateful as hell.

I've mathed it out, and my best estimate is that I need around 3500,- DKK / $500 USD. Again, this is just to cover the initial subscription as well as mandatory consultations/blood tests. I should be able to cover the prescriptions on my own, as well as further tests/consultations down the line, so I'm hoping this is a one-and-done sort of thing.

paypal: [email protected]

Also, important note. We're in a global cost of living/housing crisis and this isn't a strict life-or-death situation. If you're in a tough spot right now, don't send me anything, that'd just make me feel worse about asking. I appreciate the thought but you gotta take care of your own needs first. Peace and take care ✌️

So I've been dealing with major depressive disorder since I was 11. It runs in my family, and as you might imagine, after 15 years of living with this thing, I've learned how to manage it pretty well by now. I know what it's like to genuinely be unstable - and if I were in a place like that, no problem, I'd be open about that. I wouldn't be making decisions like this. I know myself. You kind of have to when you're dealing with a chronic mental illness.

Here's where I am right now: I've got no suicidal ideation, been clean from self harm for four years, no psychosis, no inpatient admissions for the last five years. I live on my own, take my meds, and I'm keeping my life in order. Depressed, yes, but about as stable as someone with my history can get, and ask anyone who knows me, me wanting to get on HRT isn't some spur of the moment decision. I've done a fucking decade of soul searching, and a few years ago, I finally (duh) reached the conclusion that living as a woman isn't something I can even fake being content with - believe me, I've tried. I'm well aware of the scope of medical transition, but I'm settled in who I am. And I just want to live like me now. That's the only thing I want.

If it counts for anything, my partner and family have supported me through this, which has been priceless obviously, but it also goes to show that me saying "I'm capable of making medical decisions" isn't purely a personal assessment. I'm pretty sure they'd speak up if they thought I was being unstable about it or whatever

But the CPH clinic for sexology, who have consistently refused to listen to me telling them all this, have somehow magically aquired divine knowledge on my capacity to make adult decisions about my own body, and on the basis that I have MDD, they're refusing to even set me up for a preliminary interview - one that would preceed a 6 month full-team psych evaluation before the prospect of HRT would even come up. They said in their latest refusal that they wont accept another referral from me until a year after my last in-clinic conversation with them, which happened on October 24th, 2023 - meaning that with the NHS, if they accepted my referral come October (which I don't have much faith they will), the earliest I could possibly get on HRT is April 2025. Arguing for my own sanity would've sucked enough as is, but it's made harder by the fact that they won't even talk to me. You're a trans guy who would like healthcare, but you have a mental illness? Good luck, you're on your own. Long live the Danish bureaucracy.

Dysphoria makes me fucking miserable. I'd rather not have to write a sob story here, and tumblr is like 80% trans people so I guess a good portion of you can imagine why waiting another year for the possibility of maybe-perhaps-if-all-goes-well getting on HRT would not actually make me less miserable about it.

So. I'm sitting down next week along with my mom to file a formal complaint with the patient's rights committee. I don't know what to call this other than some form of discrimination on the basis of mental illness, because nothing in my current situation would prohibit me from making medical decisions for myself. And I honestly don't think that a complaint is going to do much, but I intend to make it obnoxiously long, because by law, a specialized doctor and an attorney have to read through the whole thing. If you can't beat 'em, make 'em read 50 pages of you going into detail about why you think they suck, right

And yeah, like I said, in the meantime, I'm trying to go via GenderGP. It'd be nice if my poor ass could get HRT via the NHS instead of having to pay out of pocket, but apparently the bar for entry requires that you 1) have gender dysphoria to the point where it impedes normal function and 2) somehow aren't mentally ill. Who wrote these rules? Some 60yo cis guy in a suit in Christiansborg, I imagine.

Feel free ask about anything relating to this whole situation, I'll be as open as I can about it, cause I understand that if you're going to give money to someone, you want to know what it's going to. Though I hope you understand I'm not going to doxx myself more than I already have now, or give you my entire medical history - only what's relevant to my current situation.

I know Denmark is a welfare state and on a global scale we're doing alright, but I hope you don't mind if I say this: This shouldn't be happening as often as it does. Fuck the Danish NHS.

#other #slight self doxx ig #idec ill post my bare ass for testosterone #do rb if u want but also no pressure. i want this whole thing to be on a want-to only basis alright

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msookyspooky · 5 months

Text

Fours a Franchise

Part 12

Wordcount: 8,567

Omfg I got the flu for a week, had a family fued that lasted months between my aunt and...EVERYONE. But thankfully my younger cousin I'm super close to is living with her Dad/My Uncle now after months of this bs so finally there's peace, then in-between this fued and my cousin moving out I got covid and ong I have been foggy headed for 2 weeks afterwards I'm just starting to feel like my normal self again....THEN Wattpad kicked me out of my account. From September till now has been an out of body experience in a bad way 🙃

So thank you all for your support and patience I appreciate it 🖤 but I am so done wracking my brain over this chapter so we're just winging it rn bc I want to write and get past this hump to finish this story then start on 5. So if I missed info or a typo or misplaced lore from previous books *No I did not*~

Annnnddd my motivation with recent Scream news.

The news of Scream 7 is so disheartening and screwed up with Sam and Tara's actresses. So I cannot promise I'm writing till 6 or 7 not only because I'm losing my hyper fixation for Scream after these 2 years but no Tara, Sam, Sidney and most likely no Stu because Matthew is a real one and wouldn't come back after how they treated Neve and Melissa so like? What's the point? This book and 5 I am for sure doing because Billy meeting Sam is a huge writing motive for me. 6 is iffy but 7? I am not. Not only do I not have the motivation to write that much more for this story but it's pointless with so much of Scream being written like bad fanfiction the last 2 installments...Hell, I could do that! But I won't because I probably won't even watch Scream 7 if they make it. The Studio has screwed over Neve and Melissa in ways that I really don't want to support.

Anyways, thank you for the patience. I appreciate all of you! ♡♡♡♡

—————————————

Ghostface grabbed your ankle and you hit the stairs. Hard. But the second they went to stab you, you kicked them as hard as you could in the knee sending them flying back and tumbling down the stairs.

Jill grabbed your arm. "Come on, YN!" As you both bolted for Kirby's room…Kirby had gotten separated during the chase and you didn't know where she was.

Jill locked the door and told you. "The balcony!"

"There's no other way out?"

"You can jump, maybe, I don't know." Jill rushed out past her lips as she got away from the door.

You breathed hard, looking down at the drop off from the second story. You couldn't think long as the door frame started bending; the wood splintering with each bang from the killer trying to break it down.

"That's two stories." You looked at her trying to form a plan. "...Get under the bed."

Jill looked confused, "Wha-"

"Just do as I say." You harshly whispered. "Get under the bed and don't make a sound or come out until I get you, okay? Trust me!…Go!"

You watched her go to crawl under Kirby's bed as you climbed over the railing.

Jill hid under the bed as you heard the door to Kirby's room finally break and the killer come inside. Slowly walking past Kirby's bed...

You made a gasp as you almost fell.

Ghostface darted out onto the balcony to see you descend onto the porch roof. You rushed down around the corner of the home and looked back to see Ghostface on the roof too. Staring at you through that mask before disappearing. You figured back inside to look for the others because you looked back around the corner to see they were gone.

You quickly used the opportunity to get your cellphone.

You faltered just a second...You didn't trust to call police because you did not trust Judy. You didn't care if she was out in the open when Jill's mother was killed. Partners. Besides, you did not have a good track record of using your one phone call for cops and either they don't show up, show up too late, or show up and make things worse with the killer. But you still had to call someone. Randy dead, Gale injured, maybe Dewey? Maybe just risk 911-

You heard a noise and out of reflex you accidently pushed a button on speed dial that you hissed a curse at. Too late, they picked up the phone as you frantically tried windiws.

As soon as it picked up you rushed out, "The killer's here at Kirby's! I need your help. 329 whispering lane-"

You yelled as you rounded the corner to try a window you saw was cracked open just for the killer to jump out at you. You gasped and stepped back as they tried to slash you with the knife as you dropped the phone on the roof and lost your footing. Tumbling off the roof before barely catching yourself on the gutter. Your fingers and hands burned painfully from the impact as well as trying to hang onto the thin uncomfortable metal with your body weight. The hand you injured from the knife stab a decade ago hurt the worst. Tingling and burning as you desperately tried to hang on.

You gasped looking up to see a knife and mask. The knife narrowly missed your hand as you let go and let yourself fall harshly onto the ground. Tumbling painfully before laying there a second from the impact. Robbie no longer screamed…Only the smell of flesh and hair and plastic burning as his body provided some fucked up bonfire in the front yard that blazed overtop a pile of dead leaves...And of course this house was about like Stu's with hardly any neighbors. Should've seen that a mile away.

"Shit…" You grabbed the knife from your boot and bolted, forcing your legs to move even if they didn't want to. Running back into the house before yelping at someone grabbing you. You went to stab them before she said, "No, no, no, no! Sorry, It's me."

You lowered the knife as you saw Kirby. She drew you to a corner of the kitchen to quietly talk. "Look, I tried to call 911 but the landlines dead and someone smashed the router...And my cellphone is missing. I-I don't know, I think I lost it while running I don't understand. "

Your mind raced with that.

But…Did she actually call 911? Or was she lying? Where had she been? Why didn't she go with you and Jill? Did she actually try to call or did she mess with the landline and wifi in her own house?...

You didn't have time to talk as you both heard heavy footsteps upstairs and Kirby opened the basement door and rushed you in, "Oh god. Go, go, go, go, go!" She urged before following after you and locking the door as you both quickly got down the steps as she informed you. "There's a room down here we can lock ourselves in. I heard you yelling at Jill; is she okay? Did she get away?"

You both made it to the room as you told her, "She's safe but where's the others? Trevor, Charlie?"

Kirby breathed out shakily. "I don't know."

You hissed through your teeth. "Did Trevor or anyone have a shoulder or arm wound? I shot Ghostface in the shoulder tonight before they escaped the barn."

Kirby mumbled, "I don't think so." All before locking you both in the dark room…Suddenly, you both gasped and jumped at a banging noise. Nearly jumping out of your skin as you instinctively wielded your small knife. You held your knife tightly as you both saw a bloody Charlie banging desperately on the glass door leading to the backyard.

"Kirby! Please, let me in!"

"Charlie?" Kirby breathed out, going to the door…Her eyes darted to his bloody hand and arm.

He looked where her eyes traveled and he shook his head. "N-No! I got attacked! Please, let me in!..." He kept banging his bloody hand on the glass while fearfully looking around. "Please! There is someone else out here, let me in! They burnt Robbie!...Jesus Christ, Kirby, they set him ablaze in the yard!"

You saw Kirby ponder and you told her firmly. Already having your hunch. "If you can't trust him; don't open the door…"

Kirby looked taken aback by that realization.

Charlie looked outraged on the other side of the glass. "My God! Let me in!" He begged Kirby with fear raising his voice a few octaves. "I don't know who's doing this but it's not me! Please!"

Kirby swallowed but with a tense look told him. "...Get away from the door, Charlie."

"Kirby! It's me!" Charlie whimpered with desperate pleas.

Kirby had tears in her eyes, voice strained as she ordered him. "Get away from the door, Charlie!"

Charlie's bloody hand slid down the glass as he cried out, "It's me! P-Please, Kirby! It's meee-" He whined the last part in a desperate sob.

Kirby shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as her voice cracked. And in the tiniest, crackling voice she told him. "...I'm sorry, I can't…"

You saw the struggle on Kirby's face. Trust no one…This could be a set up to make you trust her completely. You just stood back away from the door or windows with your knife ready. Back against the wall. Nothing behind the wall. Trust no one.

Charlie stepped away from the door into the porch light's view. "What the fuck?!" He yelled in outrage and disbelief.

Suddenly, Ghostface appeared behind him as Kirby screamed, "LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!!"

Killer grabbing Charlie and banging his head into the glass right over the bloody handprint he left. Smearing blood on the glass before dragging him away into the dark…

You and Kirby looked taken aback, both staring helplessly…Then suddenly, whoever was doing this shut off the outside light. It was pitch black both outside and in the room now as your eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding you. Back against the wall as you swallowed hard and tried to get your mind in survival mode.

And then…The lights turned on outside to see Charlie tied to a chair…So similar to the report of Steven Oarth's body found or that friend of the girl that worked for Randy.

"Leave him alone!!" Kirby yelled, banging on the glass with teary eyes. "Damnit, leave him alone!"

You stood back and watched in disbelief. Questioning everything. How did Charlie get tied up so easily? Was Kirby faking it? Where the hell is Jill? Where's Trevor? And now, you have no phone to call 911…It was on the roof…Then again, you called multiple times in 1996 that awful night and they didn't show up till a fire broke out...Apparently one body on fire in a leaf pile isn't enough. You felt cornered on your own here. The only thing driving you was to kill this Ghostface and find who they were. Honestly, at this point, in that order. Anyone dumb enough in this situation to run at you with that mask on deserved beat or stabbed and feel guilty about it later.

You saw Charlie bound and gagged in that chair. And you just stood in the darkness of the room helplessly watching.

Kirby's phone rang. Charlie's contact as she answered. In the silence of the room, you could hear the Ghostface's voice on the line talk to Kirby.

"Tell YN heads are gonna roll tonight! Tell YN this is all because of her! Or maybe she wants to take his place? I promise to be quick."

You gritted your teeth hearing the sadistic excitement in their voice. Oh how much you wanted to yank that phone out of Kirby's hand and tell them to stop being a coward and come get you then…But you knew better. Instead, you whispered to Kirby, "Keep them talking." You knew it was most likely one of them or both of them…But it could be an outside influence, someone not necessarily in the group just like Neil was.

Kirby tearily nodded as she sucked in a breath to keep Ghostface on the line as you snuck out of the dark room.

—-------------------------------------

Kirby stood there as you left, shaking like a leaf. "Please, let him go."

"I hear you like horror movies, Kirby. But do you like them as much as him?...Forget watching Stab. You get to live it!"

Kirby's eyes widened, "No! Nononono, he's the expert, not me!" As she locked eyes with Charlie who struggled against his ties.

"Warm up question: Jason's weapon?"

Kirby fumbled at first in her fear stricken state. "Uuhhh, it's a machete." She released a small sniffle and touched her head.

"There, ya see? You do know the genre." The voice is entirely too sweet. Mocking her before snapping. "Michael Myers?!"

"Uh, butcher knife."

"Leatherface?!"

"A Chainsaw! Please!" Kirby answered faster, desperate to save her friend as a small sob escaped her.

"Just ask YN if you need some help. Freddy Krueger?!"

"Uh, uh. Razor hands!"

"Name the movie that started the Slasher craze. Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Last House on the Left, or Psycho?"

"Psycho!" Kirby growled out through her teeth before the voice aggressively cut her off as Kirby kept pacing the doors window looking at Charlie.

"NONE of the above! Peeping Tom 1960 directed by Michael Powe; first movie to ever put the audience in the killer's POV!"

"Wha-" Kirby's breath caught in her throat as she clutched her head. "What? Please! Nononono, please just ask me one more question, just one more!"

"...Alright Kirby. Then it's time for your last chance question …" The voice so sinister on the other line as Kirby softly cried to herself. "Name the remake of the groundbreaking horror movie in which the villain-"

"Uh Halloween-" Kirby shook her head while frantically going over every horror remake she knew. "Texas Chainsaw, Dawn of the Dead, Hills have.. Eyes-" She scrunched her face forcing this out while trying to scrap her brain for every last straw she could grasp. "Uh Amityville horror, Last House on the Left, F-Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, My Bloody Valentine, When a Stranger Calls, Prom Night, Black Christmas, House of Wax, The Fog, Uh…Uh Piranha!...It's one of those, right? Right?!" She demanded while staring out the window at Charlie.

…The line went dead silent. Everything stopped as the line was quiet, no attacks, no taunts.

"I was right?" Kirby gritted her teeth to go outside. "I was fucking right."

She opened the door, looked around, before rushing to her bound friend. "Hold on Charlie." She removed his tape from his mouth as he gasped and groaned at the feeling. Kirby quickly worked on untying him as she spoke. "He tried to trick me but I fucking won!" She smiled a bit as she got his hands free. Looking cautiously around herself in the dark as she tried to get the tape undone on his wrists and ankles. She helped him up and told him, "It's gonna be okay! It's-"

"Kirby." He said her name like it was a chore. "This is making a move."

Kirby gasped as she felt searing pain…A knife Charlie had hidden plunging deep into her abdomen. She choked on tears and air…And her eyes darted to the blood on his white shirt that he claimed was from an attack by the killer…It shifted as he stabbed and she saw a bloody gauze thickly wrapped up where the blood had soaked through from earlier…From us shooting him in the barn…She remembered him acting odd, noticing him wincing a bit when he sat down earlier but she thought it was nerves from stress…My God…It really was Charlie.

He killed his best friend Robbie. He stole Robbie's Dad's Crossbow. He stabbed Gale. He killed Randy Meeks…It was him.

Kirby's teary eyes looked at him desperately for an answer to the madness as she choked on her sobs of pain. He jerked it back out.

"Four years of classes and now you notice me?! All those times at the video store that you could talk Randy's ear off about horror movies like he's a fucking Messiah of horror while ignoring me?! All those years of teasing and leading me on in the friendzone and now you care?!" He demanded with angry tears in his own eyes as Kirby gripped his shoulder in pain gasping for air with wide eyes. Charlie yelled before plunging it back in her again. "Stupid bitch! It's too late!!"

Charlie gripped onto Kirby as her body went lax. Tears and choked whimpers escaping her as the pain felt like shocks coursing through her.

Charlie shhed her as he held her in a soft voice, "Shh, shhh. I know, I know. It's okay, take your time…Doesn't happen as fast in real life as it does in the movies, I know."

He smirked a bit as Kirby could do nothing but feel pain as the shock of all this slapped her in the face…

"C-C-Charlie…"

He brutally killed Olivia to look like Tatum's death. He hosted the party. He massacred Randy. Stabbed Gale. Set his so-called best friend on fire…Now? He was stabbing her to death and killing their entire friend group plus YN.

"Just like Sidney Prescott …Shh…I bet she suffered in that house, huh? Stab had her die instantly but I bet she gasped in pain too when Billy plunged his knife in her." He softly told Kirby.

He then whispered something in Kirby's ear that made her eyes widen…

Kirby choked out pained gasps before Charlie shook his head and shoved Kirby off his knife to let her lay on the ground. Taking gasping breaths like a fish out of water as a pool of blood.

Charlie looked close to crying and ran a hand through his long hair while he stalked back to the house. The night wasn't over.

—--------------------------------------

You tried to look for Jill, Trevor, your phone but couldn't find any. You put your small knife back getting a much bigger one off the counter…Kitchen knife in hand and backup knife in your boot.

You came downstairs, that front door still open as you rounded the corner. Opening the door to the bottom level Kirby was at last…But stopped yourself from calling out to her. It was too quiet…You wanted this Ghostface dead or caught. Wanted to help these kids. But everything in you screamed get in the car and get away.

You took a steadying breath and backed up the stairs a few steps. Knife in hand, eyes darting before someone grabbed you in a chokehold so tight you gagged as your knife clattered down the steps and you were jerked backwards.

Charlie's arm had you in a tight grip with his knife at your face. Blood staining his white shirt…And he seemed in pain with the arm he was holding you with. Blood on the shoulder you shot.

…You knew it.

He was pressed against a wall as he mumbled in your ear, “You know you learn a lot when you watch movies over and over. All the plots are about to ridicule you…Think you're gonna get away? Think anyone gets away?” His lips near your ear as you gritted your teeth and slammed him back against a wall.

As soon as he hit the wall he let you go and you grabbed your knife from your boot as you went to run out the door. You were getting out. You were outnumbered now. Just until help got here.

…But you got intercepted…When someone plunged a knife deep into your stomach.

You had been shot and stabbed but never in your gut like that. It knocked the wind from you, your body freezing up in pain as you fell back against the staircase wall. A choking gasp escaped your lips as you clutched your stomach. You went to slash at them, jolted by the pain you felt the second you moved your arm as it radiated down to your abdomen. Ghostface easily smacked that small knife out of your hand.

It clattered to the ground feet away and you felt all air leave your lungs.

The Ghostface came towards you, lowering their knife before taking off that damn mask you learned to resent…

Long dark hair cascaded out first followed by a fair complexion and a smirk on full pink lips…And your mouth dropped.

…Jill.

You shook your head. Shocked because she wasn't even on Randy's radar. And then your face soured as you realized this was just a decade ago all over again. Another one of Sidney's family is either jealous or wanting revenge.

“Hello, Yn…” She tilted her head with a smirk. “Surprised?”

She got inside her mask to show a small camera. “See this? This is the part where the cameras…” It beeped as she held it up smugly. “Turn off.”

“Good.” Was the only thing you heard before a man's hand jerked her by the head and slammed her forehead against the staircase railing as she screamed in pain and anger. Billy had a firm grip on her hair.

“Jill!” Charlie went to defend her before Stu grabbed him by the throat and jerked him back.

“Where you goin’?” Stu taunted. Knife jerking back ready to stab Charlie repeatedly at a moment's notice. “After party's just starting man. Pretty lame if you ask me. Mine was a rager.” Stu jeered with an insane grin.

You couldn't help the relieved smile as you clutched your bleeding abdomen…They actually came back for you. They heard your call and came back.

The sound of a knife jerking out of a pocket sounded as Billy readied his hunting knife. Jill cursed and struggled. “Time to join the other idiots.” He murmured.

Stu grinned, “Hell yeah, man! Number one, baby! We'll always be the one-”

Right when Billy went to plunge his knife into Jill's side she jerked with a scream as he barely got her…Before a gunshot ran out and you saw Stu jerk back with a shocked expression on his face.

Charlie pulled out a gun leveled it behind him shooting again as Stu got shot right in his rib area jerking back from it before Charlie went to shoot again and Stu tripped backwards over a spare chair landing through the glass sliding door with enough force to fall through it.

“Motherfucker!” Billy hissed out ready to slit Jill's throat and Charlie quickly pointed the gun at us; grabbed us by the back of the neck.

Damn…This has happened too many times before.

“Let her go…Or YN dies.” Charlie mumbled, nervously licking at his lips as he fidgeted with you in his grip. You went to struggle, trying to elbow him and Charlie shoved it to your temple as you groaned in pain.

Billy really considered…He glared, Jill still in his grasp. Until Jill stabbed him in the leg. He yelled, accidentally letting her go as he clutched his thigh.

Charlie jerked you into the kitchen as Jill hissed, seeing a bit of blood where Billy barely stabbed her side before she kicked him to follow Charlie and You. “Move, asshole!”

Billy growled in his throat as he readied his knife to stab the ever loving hell outta her before Charlie pointed his gun at him while still having a painful grip on you. “You heard her.”

Billy looked ready to take the risk, not one to back down but hearing Stu groaning in pain among the shattered pieces of glass on the porch and you yelping when Charlie shoved you with too much force into the counter. Right where your stab wound was…He relented.

Walking as Jill told him. “Give me the knife.”

“Bite me, bitch.” Billy scoffed.

Charlie threatened with the gun again. “Come on, what's a knife gonna do with a gun anyways? Try to think.”

Billy scowled before dropping the knife.

Jill smirked. “Not totally stupid. Now walk.” She ordered shoving him as Billy dragged himself forward with her knife leveled at him and her pocketing his for now.

Jill called out Charlie's name as he forced Billy to stand beside you near the kitchen counter. “Already taken care of.” Charlie told her while shutting doors and she stood near you both with the knife.

“Get that other douchebag for the line up.” She ordered.

Charlie went to Stu dragging him through glass by his ankles as Stu groaned in pain, teeth clenched. His shirt too dark and bloody to tell where he was shot before Charlie heaved him with a groan and shoved him up to stand. Then shoving him near the counter as Stu tried to swing on him and missed. Just hissing in pain as he caught himself next to Billy, and to your surprise, Billy instinctively reached out to steady him.

Charlie blew air past his lips with a smirk and showed a camera from his pocket. “Damn, he's a big boy, huh Jill?…And guess what? I got great footage of my Robbie kill. Better than Marnie or Olivia even.”

“Good. We'll cut and upload it later to make it all traceable to Trevor.” Jill replied with the knife near your face.

You panted in pain while Billy stood near you leaning on the counter. His dark eyes scanning the room for any way to get leverage. Stu gripped the counter, sweating but looking murderously at both teens holding you all hostage right now.

If Charlie didn't have that gun? This would've been over with both of them dead. If YOU had your goddamn gun this could've been over before Billy and Stu even got here!

You stared at Jill, seething once the shock wore off realizing the last few days you and Randy were so nice to her; you were talking to the killer all along. Her and Charlie didn't seem to recognize Billy and Stu or if they did they weren't saying.

“Speaking of which-” Charlie opened the doors to the closet and dragged out Trevor who he threw on the ground bound and gagged with tape.

“Remind you of anything?” Charlie retorted towards you.

Yeah, did it ever. Only this time Billy and Stu were just as much victims as you were.

Charlie ripped the tape off as Trevor begged, “Jill pleas-”

“Shut up!” She cut him off with a yell as she stripped herself of the Ghostface robe.

Charlie got closer towards you, blood on him. “See everything I learned I learned from you.”

Stu shoved him away. “Get the fuck away from her, man.” He growled out in pain but this was a man that took so many stabbings when younger and still attacked you and flipped you both over a couch.

Charlie scoffed but he knew who had the power right now as he smirked. But…He looked at Stu longer. Almost trying to connect the dots.

Jill brought Charlie back as she mumbled, “Who are these guys anyways? Don't tell me they're your side pieces or something.” Jill jeered with a malicious smirk as you all said nothing. “You think my cousin Sidney had a shitty boyfriend, YN!? Here's one that fucks you, dumps you…And doesn't even make you famous.” She gave a wry smirk before kicking Trevor in his shoulder as he cried out.

Billy's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at hearing Jill was his old girlfriend's cousin. You could tell he wanted to kill her that much more.

Trevor cried out, “The fuck, Jill!? I loved you!”

Jill rolled her eyes, “Shut the fuck UP already!” Before kicking him multiple times as he yelled out in pain each blow.

Stu mumbled to Billy and you, “Mean ass girl, isn't she?” Sarcastically while he huffed and held his side in pain.

Billy asked, "How you holding up?"

"By my last bit of skin, man...Fuck. He got me in the side and lower belly." Stu huffed out in a wince.

"Fuck." Billy scoffed. "...You know what to do still?

Stu smirked, "Yeah..."

Charlie gave the gun to Jill, “I'm sure the cops would want you to have this, Jill. For your protection.”

The second that gun wasn't aimed, Billy and Stu tried to charge Charlie for it. Their street smarts and instincts ready to attack in pain or not but before they could Jill stabbed you in the gut again and the most strangled cry escaped you. It hurt your throat to scream with such a primal pain and it instantly made Billy and Stu falter just enough for Charlie to aim the gun at them.

You cried, tears in your eyes at that god awful pain as you clutched your lower gut.

Jill glared, “Do that shit again and I'll stab her in the throat.” She tilted her head. “Who are you anyways? Shouldn't you both be dead?”

Billy and Stu had no choice but to back off. And when Jill said that…Charlie's entire demeanor changed.

“Oh my God…No way…I-I thought you looked familiar but-” Charlie drew out like some star struck fan.

Jill's eyes widened too before she laughed loudly. “Shut the fuck up!...No way, Gale was right? Gale Weather's was actually right about you, YN!?”

You sniffed back tears, gritting your teeth in contempt but not answering her.

Charlie pointed the gun to each of them. “Bill Loomis…And Stu Macher. It's such a privilege to meet you two in the flesh!”

Billy sneered at him, “Great, another dick rider.” He grumbled under his breath.

Jill chuckled, “I can't believe it.” As even Trevor looked flabbergasted from the floor. “Wow, YN…Little Miss American Sweetheart is actually a treacherous lying snake. I mean, hiding two of the famous Woodsboro killers under everyone's nose and ruining Gale Weather's career over it?...Under different circumstances I'd applaud you.”

Charlie looked momentarily freaked out. “Jill…Jill, what are we gonna do I mean…This changes our plans! I-”

Jill took his gun. “Shhhh.” She softly told him in a way to calm him down. “It'll still work, Baby. Remember? I'm YN and you're Randy…Now, Trevor doesn't have to be Billy. We can work with this. I mean, who is going to question who the killers were with Billy and Stu here?”

Charlie's breath hitched as he forced a smile. “And this time, Randy gets the girl.”

She kissed him. Looking at you with the gun pointed the entire time.

Stu and Billy sneered. And the idea hit you. Charlie…Charlie you shot Charlie in the barn. He wants to be the ‘new Randy’...He was jealous and killed Randy because Randy got Kirby's attention, Randy was the movie expert, Randy was a cool nerd in school unlike Charlie.

You shook your head in disgust. “You'll never be Randy…Do you hear me? He was better than you in every fucking way!” You forced out through tears and clenched teeth. They stopped kissing as you practically snarled at Jill. “And you will never be me! You're nothing but a jealous attention seeking litt-”

You cried out as she pistol whipped you upside the face hard enough to jerk your head and taste blood in your mouth. Billy and Stu had to stop themselves from lunging at her, remembering the gun.

Jill looked at you with a glare as you coughed and wiped blood off your lip. Swearing she just knocked out a tooth.

“Don't you get it? You're old news.” She gave plainly.

You stood back up, blood on the corner of your lip as you tiredly clutched your stomach.

Trevor cried out from on the floor, “Jill, baby! Please, this isn't you!”

Jill gave him a bored look. Leveling the gun at him and holding the knife towards you. You swore she was gonna shoot him but instead…She looked at Charlie.

“Charlie…Ya know, now with us being able to pin this on thee Billy Loomis and Stu Macher…Trevor's role can change. We don't need another Billy or Stu…But we need a James. I mean, every final girl needs some fucked up shit to happen to her like her boyfriend being mutilated. Media will eat that up.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

Charlie even faltered a moment.

Jill glared at him. “Do not chicken out on me now, Charlie!”

Charlie just shook his head swallowing. “Not chickening out…Just gotta make sure we film this. Are we good on time?” He started putting the Ghostface outfit back on.

Jill smiled, “Oh yeah, we're perfect.”

Trevor looked terrified and so did you as Charlie quickly threw Jill's outfit on, getting the mask off the counter and turned the inner camera on. He dropped down to Trevor and slid the knife threatenly over his neck.

“D-Don't!” You begged on deaf ears as Trevor gave a blood curdling scream as Charlie started doing what Billy and Stu did to your boyfriend back in 1996 in that field. Billy and Stu seemed both unfazed or annoyed at best while you closed your eyes and covered your ears screaming over Trevor, “STOP IT!!”

The sounds of him screaming in pain, flesh being ripped as Charlie pulled while sawing, the smell of blood. You felt ready to scream yourself as Billy to your shock drew you near with a hand on your shoulder protectively so you didn't do something stupid like lash out. Him and Stu watched the whole time. While this was the one traumatic thing that happened to you indirectly that you thankfully didn't see even if James was a shitty boyfriend. You closed your eyes and Billy had a death grip on you. You felt sick whether from bloodlose or this was debatable.

You shakily looked when the screams died down and wished you hadn't. Seeing Trevor bloody and half his face skinned off as he seemed to tremble and writhe as his body went into shock from the pain. You wanted to pass out or throw up and knowing Billy and Stu gleefully did this that night while calling you and…And hearing James sobbing and begging you to help him.

Billy's grip tightened on your shoulder as if he knew. His eyes narrowed. Stu tried inching towards a door and Jill shot the gun near the door as everyone flinched or ducked.

She said nothing, not wanting her voice on camera. As Charlie peeled his face the rest of the way off then stabbed him from sternum to groin as he choked and jerked and spasmed in pain on the floor.

And Jill just numbly watched…Watched a boy that loved her get this done to him.

Charlie took off the mask and shut off the camera with a bewildered smirk. “Holy shit…That was awesome.” He held up Trevor's face. “Hey, YN; wanna reenact TCM 2?” And tried to threatenly put Trevor's face on yours as you instinctively hid in Billy's chest. Trying to face away with an uncharacteristic whimper at what you were just forced to see. Like you were a scared teen girl all over again.

“I will staple that face to yours if you even try it! It'll be one hell of an improvement!” Stu jeered and weakly shoved him back as Billy put an arm over you.

However, Billy gripped you and forced you to turn around. You knew it was his way of silently telling you to be strong and you forced yourself to not look at Trevor or the face in Charlie's hand and instead glared at Jill. Feeling weak with blood loss and yet you had so much hate for her.

Jill smiled, “Now THAT is going to get views.” She looked at you. “See with you the world just heard about what happened but with us…They're gonna see it. It's gonna be a worldwide sensation. I mean, people gotta see this shit!” Jill chuckled. “It's not like anyone reads anymore.”

Charlie took off the glove and showed you guys a video of��Of Randy being killed. Of him on the ground backpedaling with an arrow in him. All alone in the dark.

“No please! Don't-” He got cut off choking in pain as he was stabbed repeatedly. “D-Don't hurt them…Don't hurt my kids and wife…D-D-Don't hurt YN…Please-” He pleaded with blood near his mouth before screaming in pain again as Charlie stabbed him repeatedly and the video cut off…To a close up of him hanging…Still twitching barely alive as he hung there…Guts out.

Tears welled in your eyes as your breathing got shallow. You were trembling with so much rage and mind shattering devastation. Seeing your best friend in his final moments tonight in pain begging for his life…For yours even after your argument. Even after everything he didn't hate you.

“...I'm gonna kill you…You goddamn pieces of shit…” You forced out shakily through your teeth as tears rolled down your cheeks. “I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!!” Billy and Stu had to jerk you back, Billy the least injured having you in almost a headlock before you got shot.

Jill laughed, “God, you are so dramatic! So that goody two shoes love and peace for all; is that some PR move or-” She mocked as Billy jerked you and you were trying to fight him even in ungodly pain to get to her or Charlie.

“Stop! Now!” Billy ordered in your ear. “...We'll get them…” He reassured while still holding you back as you stopped struggling and glared daggers at them both tears rolling down your face.

Charlie informed you. “Stole Robbie's Dad's crossbow. I mean that guy on Walking Dead just gave me major ideas and Robbie also…Lured Randy back to the party by recording you and Kirby. Poor kid had no idea he was helping me get Randy tonight. Jill took care of things at her house and Kirby's phone.”

You could only glare at him.

Jill told you. “We're gonna have fame you never even dreamed of.”

Charlie looked at Jill in adoration. “You were the perfect victim, Jill.”

Jill laughed like a teen girl getting away with sneaking out past curfew while Trevor bled out on the floor. “I was SO believable today, wasn't I? I mean, I told so many lies that I actually started to believe them…I really think that I was born for this.”

Stu huffed, looking tired and woozy himself. “Congratulations.” He sarcastically monotoned.

You got away from Billy as he let you go and you demanded weakly, “How could you do this?...Sidney-”

“Shut up!” Jill demanded, her smiling dropping. “Do you even know what it was like in this family being related to Sidney Prescott?! Sidney this and Sidney that and Sidney, Sidney, Sidney! She was always just SO FUCKING SPECIAL!” She screeched. “And then you…” She pointed the knife at you. “I hated you just as much. What? You survive bad luck and get all this attention? Big house somewhere, never have to work, all these interviews and book deals because your life was hard?...You had your 15 minutes of fame NOW I WANT MINE!” She yelled.

Billy groaned as Stu tiredly mumbled to him. “Told you. Fame. You owe me 50 bucks.”

You ignored them and stared at her, shaking your head mumbling. “You'll slip. They always do.”

Jill gave a wry smirk, looking back at Billy and Stu who technically did get away with it before saying, “Come on Charlie, let's get this over with.”

Stu was losing a lot of blood and so were you as you both gripped the counters and Billy wasn't able to run. You all were pretty much sitting ducks right now.

Charlie handed Jill the knife. He started breathing puffs of air out of his mouth, bouncing on his feet as Jill told him loudly, “You've gotta be strong…And hold still! Okay?”

He nervously breathed, “Old School, like Billy and Stu.”

Billy made a face and Stu despite his condition let out a mocking laugh. Billy added over Stu's laughter, “That's right, real deep too. Don't be pussies now in front of your idols-”

Charlie closed his eyes saying “Come on, get it up-” Before slapping himself across the face multiple times.

Stu laughed silently hanging his head and leaning on the counter for support.

You stood there thinking you felt like you were in a Twilight Zone right now or a damn insane asylum from back in the day while Stu and Billy had sadistic grins on their faces eager to see some ‘fan’ that gave them injuries get stabbed.

Charlie smacked his shoulder shakily yelling at Jill, “Shoulder me, shoulder me! Come on! GET IT UP-”

You gasped with a slight satisfaction yourself when Jill plunged the knife right into his chest. Billy went from watching with interest to smirking with a dark look in his eye and Stu through his sweat and pain grinned ear to ear.

Charlie choked a gasp, holding his bleeding chest. “The heart?!- T-That's not how we rehearsed it!”

You finally spoke with an edge to your voice. “You said it. Billy and Stu…If Trevor became James. And Robbie was supposed to be Stu…”

Jill smirked to herself seeing it dawn on Charlie. She told him, “I know it's going against the script…But this is a franchise. Not a remake. And what the media loves is a sole survivor.” She whispered cruelly. “Robbie was your partner. Both of you jealous little outcasts but you…You were the idea man.”

She plunged the knife in again as Charlie gasped harshly falling to his knees. Hyperventilating as he bled. Shock written all over his face before collapsing in a pathetic heap on the ground.

You didn't care if it made you a monster too…There was some satisfaction. Especially when you remembered what he showed you on that phone. “You'll never be Randy, Charlie.” Was the last thing you said as Stu almost gave a little hollar of glee and Billy chuckled under his breath watching Charlie be betrayed and now only seconds from dying.

You glanced at Jill holding your stomach and like Stu things were getting blurry for you. “So…You killed all your friends…Now what?” You asked the bigger picture of what happens when all this is said and done.

Jill glared at you. “My Friends?”

She walked up to you and Billy and Stu tensed up a bit. It was 3 against 1. 2 grown men, a grown woman and one teen girl…Problem was 1 grown man looked ready to pass out, the grown woman wasn't far behind him, the other grown man had a fucked up leg now that couldn't move as fast and the little teen bitch from hell still had the gun.

“What world are you living in? I don't need friends, I need fans ….DON'T YOU GET IT!?” She snapped at you. “This has never been about killing you…This is about becoming you. I mean for fucksake all my friends and boyfriend had to die.”

“And your mother?” You asked, trying to be brave but staring crazy in the face again after so long…Worked on your mind.

“Collateral damage.” She mused with nothing in her dark eyes…Just nothing. “That's sick right? Well, sick is the new sane.” She whispered with a small smile eyeing you.

Even Billy and Stu didn't kill their own parents.

“You had your 15 minutes now I WANT MINE!” She yelled in your face. “I mean, what am I supposed to do? Go to college, grad school, work? Look around. We're all in the public eye now, we're all on the internet…How do you think people become famous anymore!? You don't have to achieve ANYTHING!” She gestured to you. “You just gotta have fucked up shit happen to you.”

You stared at her in shock at her logic of wanting to be you. To have your life. To want to be the victim, to want to have people whisper about you or treat you horribly or treat you like glass. To have a target on your back forever.

All of this…ALL of this pain…Because some brat wanted attention and to get by easy in life?

Billy and Stu looked just as bewildered as you. Stu finally gave a humorously dry chuckle while trying to breathe, still holding his wounds. “I mean…Okay idea but-”

She instantly shot him.

You froze as Stu got shot somewhere in the abdomen and went flying back. Billy went to lunge at Jill and got shot as well. He growled in pain and hit the counter. Wincing and slipping on his bloody palms trying to keep himself up. Stu laid limply and you tried not to hyperventilate at how messed up this was becoming because of one damn girl. Stu groaned on the ground coughing as he weakly held himself.

Jill laughed, “I WAS going to kill you all and blame Charlie and Trevor or Charlie and Robbie but now?...No…I think it doesn't matter if these two idiots live. Great! Because no one will question it. NO ONE. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher survived? They clearly did this and almost killed a poor innocent girl after slaughtering her friends.”

You shook your head with fearful tears in your eyes. Billy glared daggers at her sneering, “You dumb little fuck…You think I'm going down after 15 years?!” He grabbed a kitchen knife and took the risk of throwing it.

It went right into the arm that held the gun as she screamed and he instantly with his adrenaline pumping tried to grab it…You went for it too this time to help him instead of the other few times.

You gasped as a sharp painful cry escaped him…Jill stabbed him in the abdomen and jerked sideways.

“Billy!-” You went to attack her too, hoping for an opening. ANYTHING! You were gonna die and-

She jerked the knife out of her arm with an almost enraged scream and stabbed you when you least expected it. She made it look like you had an opening to grab that gun and maybe you did? But her determination was just that much stronger.

She plunged the knife deep into you as you saw Billy had tried to get up multiple times and kept slipping while trying to hold his own wound close and slumped down gasping for air…Stu wasn't moving from what you could see…And you just got stabbed again. Deep. Blood spurted over your hand. This felt higher than before.

“Sorry, there's only room for one final girl and let's face it…Your time's up.” She looked so pleased with herself. So giddy as you collapsed onto your stomach.

You laid there trembling, barely breathing with your eyes wide open in fear. You heard footsteps seeing Jill walking away.

Billy looked just as bad but your eyes locked with each other on the kitchen floor. “B-B-Bill-” You couldn't even get his name out.

He shhed you. Cringing and as quietly as he could gritted his teeth to drag himself over to you as Jill started going ahead and hurting herself…Absolutely trying to kill herself by stabbing you hitting her head on a glass picture frame while yelling in pain. Trying to make it all look like she was brutally attacked.

Billy shhed you again when tears started falling from your eyes…After so long of being numb…You didn't wanna die.

“I'm…I'm scared…Billy-” You just admitted it. Trembling like a scared child while bleeding out on the ground. Things were getting harder to focus on as he laid next to you on his back to keep his guts from pressing against the gash.

You never thought you'd ever give him the satisfaction. Not at that shed, not in your house, not in the closet, Stu's house, Windsor, the motel- Never thought you'd give him the satisfaction of admitting you were scared of dying but you were.

Your hand trembled uncontrollably and he shhed you again. Weakly telling you, “Hey…Shh…It's alright…Don't cry, she'll hear you. If she stabs us in the head or throat or heart we're done, kid.”

You shook your head trying not to sob as your head felt like you were gonna faint.

“You're tough. Okay?...You can do this…You've always been a tough bitch to beat…I should know…Don't let that brat win. Don't let me or Stu win either…” He told you with heavy tired eyes. His head lolling to the side to gaze at you. Both of you held eye contact before he reached out and so did you.

“Billy…I-...I never meant…I always wanted-” You knew what you wanted to say but…Getting it out.

He stopped you with another soft shh and held your hand. He held it tight. His own fear of dying present but his urge to put on a brave face for his ego…For you too; was stronger. It's like he knew what you meant and he released a soft breath of air as if a giant weight was off his shoulders.

“Mine…” He mumbled with a small tired smile. “You've always been mine…” And then his eyes just…Closed.

Mark entered your mind and you couldn't control the small whimper as you trembled Jill crashing into things in the background.

“...Billy?” You whispered. Trying to move but couldn't as you held his hand so tight it hurt. “Billy, wake up. Please…” You whimpered as you were so tired…So so tired.

The last thing you saw was black…And glass shattering as Jill threw herself on the coffee table…And then sirens outside.

#finally #scream #stu macher #billy loomis #my writing #scream fanfiction #yn fanfic #she her yn #my stories #fours a franchise #scream 4

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yelenasdiary · 1 year

Text

New Friend Request

Pairing: Gamer! Kate Bishop x Reader

Summary: After posting on a subreddit looking for people to play a new game with, you received a new friend request.

| Comfort? | 0.8K | No Warnings |

AC: Here is something a little different to my usual works! I hope you enjoy this, I found it pretty fun to write!

It was Friday night, you had a weekend off from work and had planned to sit down with plenty of snacks and binge play a new video game you just treated yourself too. The only downside was that all your friends that you played video games with were either busy this weekend or had no interest in playing the new game you'd been waiting so long to play.

With a sigh and nerves kicking around in your stomach you decide to post on a subreddit asking if anybody else would like somebody to play with over the weekend. It wasn't something you'd done before but you liked playing games with friends more than playing solo.

Hours had past and your phone was left dry, not a single notification from anybody reacting to your post. Another sigh left your body as you tossed your phone to the side and decided to turn your PS4 off.

*DING*

(LuckyArrow has sent a friend request)

The notification stared at you deeply as the feeling of excitement and relief soon filled you. You punched in your passcode and quickly accepted the strangers friend request.

LuckyArrow: Hey! are you still looking for somebody to play Dying Light 2 with? I saw your post on reddit! ☺️

yourusername: Hey, I am! I just thought the game and none of my friends want to play it with me 😩

LuckyArrow: agh! that sucks! I have a friend, Yelena, she doesn't play video games much and refuses to play with me! If you want, I'd love to play it with you. Have you played the first one?

yourusername: That would be great! Thanks! I'm assuming your user is LuckyArrow on PSN aswell? I have played the first, have you? Oh! btw, I'm Y/n!

LuckyArrow: Sure is! You have a cute name! I'm Kate, are you from New York?

yourusername: Oh wow! 😅 Don't take this the wrong way but I wasn't expecting you to be a girl! I actually just moved to NYC! Are you also from here?

LuckyArrow: You'd be surprised how many of us female gamers are out here ☺️ Where did you move from? if you don't mind me asking

yourusername: Just a small town that was hella boring! hence why I got into video games haha!

LuckyArrows: I hope you don't mind, I had a look at some of the game you play! You have good taste, how far are you into the story of Dying Light?

yourusername: Thanks! & not very far, I don't really like playing games solo most of the time. I've completed the first couple of missions though so I'm able to play co-op.

LuckyArrows: Awesome! Well, I have plenty of time tonight if you'd like to play now? If not, just let me know when you're free and we'll work something out ☺️

yourusername: Actually, I'm free all weekend so now would be great! Do you wanna play on my save or we can start one on your game? Whatever works ☺️

LuckyArrow: I've already completed it, let's just do a save on your game! Send me an invite x

LuckyArrow: Sorry about the x!!!! I'm just used to sending it to friends 😅😅

yourusername: Don't stress! it's okay ☺️ I'll send you an invite rn!

Friday night soon faded into the early hours of Saturday morning, plenty of laughs and jokes were made between you and your new friend, Kate. You learnt a lot about her, you felt comfortable with her even though she technically is still a stranger online, you both planned to meet for pizza for lunch.

Who knew that a simple post online would lead to you making a new friend.

2 months later

LuckyArrow: Hey! you free this weekend? sorry I couldn't play last weekend, I had a mission...I missed you though! 💜

yourusername: Hey!! Don't stress it, you get to actually kick some bad guys butts! it's pretty cool! I am free this weekend, I took work off, I need a break anyways. I missed you too, did your mission go well?

LuckyArrow: Meh, it was a pain (literally) but one less menace on the streets to deal with now! 💪🏼, I actually wanted to ask if you'd like to come over...I can order pizza and we can play video games or something, whatever you like! 😅

yourusername: Of course! it'll be so fun! Are you okay though? you seem a little off? x

LuckyArrow: I'm Fine ☺️ wanna come over Friday?

yourusername: Lock it in! Friday, date night haha!

LuckyArrow: Haha...😅

yourusername: Are you sure you're okay?

LuckyArrow: I'm not good this...but, I'm not asking you to just come over as a friend..😅

yourusername: Kate, are you asking me out on a date?

LuckyArrow: I am...we don't have to do something so causal, in fact I'd like to take you out on a real date but I don't want to scare you off or make things awkward between us..

yourusername: Oh thank god! Honeslty, I'm so glad you asked because I've really wanted to ask you out but I also didn't want to ruin anything

LuckyArrow: Well now that makes me feel a lot better! How about I pick you up at 6pm on Friday?

yourusername: it's a date! x

#Kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #marvel #fanfiction #hawkeye

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tflaw · 2 years

Text

— IT’S A RICH MAN’S WORLD.

The wealthiest man in Snezhnaya wants you. Is it a blessing or tragedy just waiting to unfold?

꒰ა ❤︎ ໒꒱ . . . f!reader. yandere!pantalone. dubious consent. coercion. blackmail. power play. unprotected. pee & uh cum. fingering. finger sucking. reader is smaller than pantalone. he’s a very nasty man and downright crazy.

++ anyways! it has been… weeks? months? since i’ve last written a one shot. this is my first yandere content that i’m actually a little proud of. a breakthrough. it cracked the writer’s block out of me fr. i’ve had so much fun writing this and i hope you’ll feel the same while reading! if ever i’ve forgotten to include a warning, please tell me! it’s 12 am where i’m at rn and my mind’s a biiit foggy. tell me what u think! <33

The air is sharp with perfume, rivaled by the redolence of wine placed in the hands of nobles completing the hierarchy in Snezhnaya. Bejeweled to the teeth and garbed with the finest silk, they filled the main hall of Zapolyarny Palace like scattered gemstones against the crystal blue shades of pillars and gothic windows. Buzzing noises of business talks, gossip of who wed who, which lord cheated on his wife, and the anticipation of whatever such lavish revelry might offer has taken over the place.

“We’re up in a few minutes,” a girl whispered before muttering the same to the other person standing beside you.

A feast is dedicated to the Harbingers’ return to Snezhnaya after months of diplomatic work. All over the country, everyone who possesses an invitation bolted to their favorite seamstresses and lapidaries. Even markets, shops, and stalls have all been occupied by the preparation. While you, on the other hand, have spent most of your days in the theatre to perfect the dance for the festivities.

You palm your stomach, blowing out the anxiety poking your belly with a few deep breaths. It’s not always that chances to wander around the Palace’s halls are bestowed upon someone like you. Hailing from one of the poorest villages in Snezhnaya, the elders would consider it the highest of honors to walk on the very halls as the Tsaritsa. However, your mirth has been lost to the acid in your throat, ignited by your need to flee.

If this night hasn’t been a turning point in your rather mundane life, you would’ve done just that. But the stakes are high and you couldn’t risk a misstep.

Even with knowledge of what is to come, you start as the drums begin to roll. Heads turn expectantly towards the huge frescoed doors. All face luminous except yours, as one by one, the Harbingers march into the hall clad in their regalia.

The throng immediately parts to make way for the Harbingers and Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa. They say she is as cold as the snowflakes blanketing Snezhnayan soil and just as pretty. Seeing her in all her glory, the songs and poems proved to be true: she is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Forgetting for a moment the current plight you are situated in, your lips part in awe as your eyes trail her walking towards the crystallized throne. Heartbeat wild and frenzied, you’ve made a mental reminder to savor each moment. But your thoughts have been snuffed out like embers embraced by snow when your eyes moved a little further to her right.

In blatant recognition, Pantalone tilts his head at you. There he is, eyeing you like a predator. He walks into the place knowing exactly where you are. Watching and looming over like a storm gathering in the middle of the sea. Afraid of its familiar intensity, you are, but a small part of you seeks refuge in sniffing out its whereabouts to better equip yourself on how to escape its havoc. An endeavor you were yet to accomplish. Despite your swift effort to sever the connection, his eyes have lingered. They always do.

“It’s time,” the same girl says, bobbing her head before proceeding towards the made-up stage in the corner of the hall.

At the first beat, you attempt to steer your mind away from thoughts of Pantalone. He makes you unsteady. His very presence is hard to bear most especially when he looks at you like he owns you. Which, in more ways than one, is true.

You twirl and sway to the music, plastering a toothed smile whenever you spin to the center. If all goes well tonight, the theatre could attain favors from the Harbingers and the Tsaritsa. You could be a performer in Zapolyarny Palace and your future, as well as your family’s, will be secured. Perhaps, then, you won’t need to lean in on anyone for help. Such small hope but hope nonetheless.

Years of performing and blending your very soul with the stage have not prepared you for the attention that followed after the dance. For some reasons unknown, men and women alike flocked in your direction, congratulating a job well done. Alien you might be to the nobles’ way of conversation, you have treated the courtesy as your liberty from Pantalone’s presence.

If you can entertain these nobles long enough, perhaps you wouldn’t need to cross paths with the Harbinger tonight.

That has been the bane of your existence, has it not? Thinking that you can undermine, even for a little while, Pantalone’s eyes.

Your heart sinks as a hand slips around your waist, pulling your body close to a solid chest.

“I see that you have been enjoying the night without me, darling,” he whispers, shooing away the men attempting to approach with stares alone.

“Your Grace,” you breathe, hand tightening around your glass. Stomach coiling at the endearment, you shake out of his grip but he proves yet again how it’s futile to do so. He’s bigger than you. Stronger.

“It seems to be a challenge getting a hold of you tonight. What with all the men circling you around like vultures.” He looks down at you with a glint of mischief. His hand makes fast around your waist. “Worry not. They will not bother you any longer.”

You nervously sip from your glass, wondering when will you ever have the tongue to tell him that you’d rather conjure up fake smiles with the nobles than be in his company.

“I’m quite alright, Your Grace,” is all that you’ve managed to say. “And… and I wouldn’t want to deter your reunion with your fellow Harbingers,” you follow, hoping that he’d remember the comrades he has abandoned.

“Nonsense,” Pantalone scoffs. “In truth, I’m growing tedious of conversing about work and I’d assume you are, too. We shall retire to a quiet room.”

He leads you through the body of the crowd, as though parading the both of you together. Noticing the curious eyes thrown upon you by guests, your confidence evaporated. With his hand on your waist, claiming more than protecting, you know exactly the source of the next gossip in town.

Such a straightforward display of affection by a Harbinger, no less, is not to be taken lightly. You grow uneasy ruminating about what might be the impression of people around you by now.

The discomfort settles deep in your bones when Pantalone opens a door to a secluded room. Far from the crowd, no doubt, the distance muffles the music from the hall. Standing on the threshold, you hesitate for a moment, debating whether to run and make for the exit.

“Come on in,” he encourages, tone honey-laced. If he sensed your hesitation, he’s hidden it quite well with oblivion. But only when you’ve stepped inside the chamber does he finally look away.

Pantalone shuffles out of his fur coat, revealing his turtleneck sleeveless shirt embedded with jewels near the collar. “You may leave us now,” he commands the servant poking the hearth with a metal rod, whom you failed to acknowledge because of your nerves.

He politely bows to you both before departing the room.

“Come sit near the fire,” he says with a mirthful twitch of his brow on your unmoving frame. “One might think you’re afraid to come close. Come here.”

Mustering up all courage, you ask, “Why did you bring me here, Your Grace?”

There is nothing but the sound of wood crackling and liquor pouring down into two glasses after your question. Warmth might have enveloped the space, but you remain cold against his penetrative stare.

“Why, you ask? I know you’re not one for social gatherings. Therefore, I took it upon myself to save you from such dull conversations. Political matters aren’t your thing, I surmised. And they ken nothing else but politics,” he explains before walking towards you, offering the other glass with a smile.

Stop the charade. You know nothing about me.

“It matters not,” you insist, voice feeble as you reach for the glass. Frustrated are you by his theatrics, you have not forgotten that he is a Harbinger. Through and through, he gives away no sliver of doubt about his capabilities regardless of his laidback demeanor. “I have to be there with the others. This night is important to the theatre. We have to be there for when the Tsaritsa—”

“When the Tsaritsa, what?” He caresses your cheek, invading your personal space once again. “When Her Majesty bestows the theatre a favor of being permanent performers in the Palace?” he narrates as if he’s reading your mind.

“Is it a far-fetched dream, Your Grace?” You blankly stare at him, heart thudding.

“Oh, no. Not at all,” he says before turning away, taking your hand to sit you down on the sofa before the fireplace. “The dance was impeccable. But it failed in comparison to you.”

To that, you refuse to say anything.

Pantalone leans over your shoulder, tracing the side of your neck with his finger. “Although I have to remind you that for it to happen, the Harbingers need to be unanimous.”

Your breath hitches at the skinship. Reminding yourself that you need only get through the night, you close your eyes. “Are they, Your Grace? Unanimous?”

“Nothing has been decided yet,” he whispers against your skin. “But they’ve been quite enthralled by the performance— and by you, no doubt. I’ve seen it in every man’s eyes tonight.”

“Surely, you’re mistaken, Your Grace,” you reply nervously, sensitive to the direction of the conversation.

“They want you,” he insists. “And I’m not one to share.”

There it is— the words. His adamant claim to mark you. To claim you. To make you his territory.

“I’m not certain I understand, Your Grace.” Your throat bobs deeply, eyes fixated on the dancing flames as you await his response.

Pantalone sighs and takes a step back before circling around to crouch in front of you, blocking the flames from your sight. It has taken everything in you not to flinch when he took your cold hands in his warm ones.

“The Harbingers need to be unanimous,” he repeats while brushing your knuckles with his thumbs, as if consoling. And yet there is nothing in those eyes but unadulterated determination and yearning. So flagrant that his pupils dilate because of it.

“And you…” You release a shaky breath, realizing what he truly means by being unanimous. “You do not plan to agree, do you?”

He sighs in relief, as if grateful that you’ve finally understood his dilemma. “It is far beyond my patience to watch these men ogle at you—”

“Why are you doing this?” you croak suddenly, throat burning with anger and the need to lash out. “Why are you doing this to me?!”

It’s not only your life that’d crumble. The others… the whole theatre… and he cares not even the slightest bit.

Pantalone squints a little, confused at your unforeseen rage. He stands up, towering over your frame. “You look at me as if I’m wicked.”

Your nails dig into the soft flesh of your palms, restraining the rancid words you wish to throw at him behind clenched teeth. How powerless you are under his mercy. It’s pathetic. It eats at your bones from within, leaving only a rotten mess behind.

Receiving silence, Pantalone tilts your chin up with a mere lift of his finger. “Am I truly that terrible?”

“It is… it is a terrible thing to be desired by you.”

At the look he’s given you, cowardice snakes into your ire and poisons what little bravery it has offered.

“Why? Because I want all of you and I have not a mind to share with anyone?” An odd sense of curiosity tints his voice. It sounds as though your disapproval over the matter downright confuses him.

“Pardon me, Your Grace. I am in dire need of fresh air.” You stand up but he catches your wrist swiftly, crashing your body onto his forcefully enough to have elicited a wince from you.

“Look me in the eyes. Say that you’re willing to face the consequences of leaving this room and I’ll let you go.” The threat echoes as a whisper. Sharp and baleful.

“Consequences?” Seized by terror, your lips went ajar and pallid. You face him completely, wrist hot under his fingertips.

He brushes the skin below your eye, as if plucking an invisible thread. “This is hardly the time to bring out the list, is it?”

The list. The list of everything your parents owe him: loans, mortgages, and debts. Who in Snezhnaya doesn’t owe him something? He’s the bloodline in which mora flows freely. A man of great wealth and influence, no one would dare displease him on purpose.

“One day, I swear, I’ll pay everything we owe you. To the last penny. After that, you won’t hear from me ever again,” you hiss, clueless as to where you’ve gained the courage. Perhaps it’s rooted in your hopelessness and exhaustion towards having to bend on his will.

“And I’ll do everything in my power to prevent such a horrible day,” he says, unaffected by your attitude. If anything, the determined set of your brows only deepened the flush on his cheeks. “Now, be a good girl and I might just change my mind…” he extends the last word, taking off his glasses before closing his mouth on yours.

Everything, up to this moment, is weighing on a scale. Perhaps ever since your family has been indebted to him. The other side of the scale fattens and grows heavier with each mora beside your parents’ name.

One day, Pantalone’s list will become as blank as your mind tonight.

One day.

Despite the frantic need that is evident in his eyes, Pantalone’s kisses are patient. He’s like an ocean on nights like this: dark, blood-curdling, and yet tempting. You couldn’t deny, no matter how you fight the admittance burning on your tongue, that he knows exactly where to touch and kiss you. How to coax lecherous sound after lecherous sound from your lips whenever his fingers would reach inside your cunt, curling and pumping until your stomach tightens.

“Don’t be shy,” he sighs a breadth away from your lips, breathing in your heavy pleas. “Let me hear you.”

You want to refuse him the pleasure of watching you melt under his playful ministrations. Want to extinguish the carnal lust painted in his eyes as he sucks and bites on your tit. Silence would wound his pride and crush his ego underfoot. And yet silence is the weapon missing from your arsenal.

“I do appreciate your efforts in trying to keep your moans.” The corner of his lips tips up. “But your cunt is so wet. Nobody will believe your displeasure.”

Panting, your mouth opens for a rebuttal but he quickly shoves his fingers on your tongue. Overwhelmed with a whiff of something vinegary, you gag.

“Taste yourself,” he commands. “Suck.”

At the first swirl of your tongue, Pantalone grabs your throat with his free hand to steady your head. He hisses on your cheek, “I’ll fuck you so hard tonight you won’t think of anything else.”

And he did fuck you. Hard. In many positions that have kept you exposed and embarrassed. He moves with his back flexing as he pounds your cunt.

Your eyes blurred with tears when he flipped you on your stomach, ramming his length completely inside from the back. You have been stretched open, reduced to a whining mess. And he, grunting and groaning, drives himself in and out while securing your waist with big hands.

Pantalone feels his cock growing harder, balls plumped and full of unreleased cum. His stomach clenches down to his cocktip. But before his release, he pops his cock out of your wet cunt. It bobs eagerly under its weight, shaft glossed with your arousal and ringed with white around the base.

The interruption has given you but a few seconds to breathe before he pulls your leg and guides himself completely inside once again. You both gasped at the continued connection. You shriek when he hooks your other leg over his shoulder and starts to fuck you sideways.

It’s embarrassing. The position is far too crude yet feels so good. It lasted for a minute before Pantalone shifted to face you. Both of your bodies are bouncing to his movements.

“I’m close,” he declares in the crook of your neck followed by a gutted moan.

Along with your head being fuzzy, the need to pee arises. “W… wait—” you rasp, palming his chest away. “I need to pee. Stop— stop!”

He stiffens and slows down, rising above you just enough to press a hand on your lower abdomen, before picking up his pace again.

The knot in your chest slides to your abdomen, to where his hand is pressed down your flesh. You look up at him, a harsh cry escaping your lips. Utterly devastated with pleasure, you haven’t the strength to stop yourself from gushing around his girth. The warm liquid secretion from your cunt squirts everywhere— on the sheets, your thighs, and his thighs.

“Archons,” you hear him sigh before an interval of unrestrained moans and grunts leave him. He gathers you in his arms, cock throbbing sporadically inside your walls.

You know, by then, that he had come hot and needy straight to your womb. The last you’ve seen are his eyes, stricken with nothing but satisfaction and desire before sleep tugged you in its embrace.

It’s the slip of the sun’s rays through the curtains that woke you up the next day. Sitting up on the bed, you’ve found yourself alone in the spacious room. No signs of Pantalone, and yet you still feel him in every corner of your body as if he’s stuck himself in your skin. Shivers thunder down your spine at the remnants of last night. The flashes of memory you’d rather forget have rendered you hankering for a good, long bath. And yet you have been faced with a dilemma right after stepping out of bed: your clothes are gone.

Panic rising, you clasp the sheets around your body before checking under the bed. The floor is spotless.

How are you supposed to leave now? You might’ve already sold your soul to the devil named Pantalone, but you hold a sliver of self-respect to even consider marching naked out of Zapolyarny Palace.

“You’re awake.”

You jolt at the sound of his voice.

He might’ve noticed your alarm, for he chuckles and raises his hands in defense.

“Where are my clothes?” you rasp, putting as much distance between you as physically possible.

“Oh, that?” He pumps his shoulders up in realization before snapping his fingers, then a servant carrying a huge box enters while looking at the floor. “I could not let you in those rags so I had someone burn them while you sleep.”

Stupefied beyond recognition, words have unfortunately failed you when you needed them most. You feel faint just sorting through his revelation. Rags? And burned them without your permission?

He motions to the servant, who placed the box on the bed beside you. “Go ahead and try the dress, my love. I’m certain the color will suit you.”

There is no doubt about it. The dress has been bought from the most expensive shop in the city. You know this because of the name written on the box. Once, you’ve dreamt of possessing a dress made in that shop. Yet now, all you can feel is dread.

“I can’t,” you counter, “I can’t take this. I have not the mora to pay for this.”

“Leave us,” he commands and the servant ran off without a backward glance.

Pantalone closes the distance between you, breaching your personal space and claiming it as his own. He takes your chin and says, “It’s a gift. And it’d please me so if I see you wearing it.”

“I do not want to please you.” You wag your head to take his hands off you. “I’d rather dress in rags or go home naked than… than wear that.”

From your peripheral, you’ve witnessed him wipe the sides of his mouth. He’s turning impatient, that you are certain. However, he reaches for your hand and holds it tightly despite your struggle.

“Although the latter entices my imagination, do you want me plucking out the eyes of each person that’d look your way? I suppose not.” He grips your chin and made you look at him this time. An eerie smile, one that would’ve appeared lovely to a stranger’s eyes, shapes his lips. “However, you do have a choice, my love. You always have.” Then he kisses your forehead and leaves the room.

Choice. You want to spit at the word. Trample on it until it’s reduced to pieces. He talks of choices but in truth, you have been left with none.

It’s either you wear the stupid dress or remain in this stupid chamber with your stupid pride. Nothing matters. Whatever it is you decide to do, it will end up pleasing no one but Pantalone.

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#tw dubcon #pantalone x reader #pantalone smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #yandere pantalone x reader #yandere genshin x reader

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