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III ║ Dapple Grey

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ << Part 2: Buckskin | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 4: Strawberry Roan >> }

Rating: M (will be E in future chapters)

Summary: Tinder is a dangerous game. So is Never Have I Ever.

Warnings: Flirting, yearning, insecurities, sexual tension, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendoes, language, mention of food, drinking, drinking games, mention of breakup, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: I had a little bit of a meltdown writing this part. Thank you @mandoblowmybackout and @prolix-yuy for talking me out of it ❤️ I had the busiest week so I didn't have as much time as I usually do for edits, so this chapter's a bit of an… experiment 🙈 Thank you for everyone who's been so kind to me and this series - I hope you enjoy this part! 🦄

Dapple grey: A grey or white horse with spots or areas of a darker colour.

Day 2

‘Stop looking at me.’

‘I’m not.’

You turn the camera around to show Jack the photo you just took and deadpan, ‘I have literal proof of you looking straight at me.’

The two of you are sitting underneath the shade of a tree, a simple lunch laid out in the middle on a picnic blanket. The horse’s saddles and packs are resting against the trunk behind you while they graze nearby.

In front of you, several yards away, the grassy plain drops off into a deep valley. And beyond - a sight to behold. If the bentonite hills had been sculpted by a higher being, they must have run an inadvertent finger through the clay while it was on the spinning wheel, creating dramatic curves that cut into the soft rock. The hills are painted from left to right for miles and miles in white, red and green stripes, candy cane colours faded under the sun.

Jack gives you a scowl as he rolls up his tortilla wrap, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. He grumbles, ‘It’s hard not to. You’re pointing the camera at me.’

‘Well, you gave me full control of today’s photography, so you have to do what I say.’

He flings an accusatory finger at you. ‘Only because you promised to help us with our marketing.’

You press a dramatic hand to your chest. ‘What exactly are you insinuating, cowboy?’

‘You’re obviously taking pictures for the Tinder thing instead, which, by the way, I am not convinced about,’ replies and takes a bite of his wrap.

‘Not convinced - ha! Says the guy who drives two hours to a bar and doesn’t even know if he’ll get laid,’ you retort. ‘And don’t you worry, cowboy, these pictures will definitely work for both the ranch and Tinder.’

His frowns. ‘What do you mean for the ranch?’

‘I mean for the website and social media. Honestly, I’m surprised there aren’t any pictures of you on there already. You guys would get so much business you’ll have to turn people away.’

He cocks an eyebrow, arrogance seeping into his smile. ‘Oh, and why is that?’

You roll your eyes at his fishing for a compliment. ‘You know why, cowboy.’

‘Enlighten me, darlin’,’ he insists with a wink. ‘I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.’

You put the cap back on the lens and reprimand, ‘What did I say about your ego last night?’

You avoid his gaze as you unwittingly steer the conversation into dangerous waters. You probably shouldn’t be bringing up anything from the night before - at all. There’s no alcohol to blame in the bright light of day though. Somehow, just being around this cowboy is enough to cloud your better judgement and make you say reckless things.

When you finally peer at him out of the corner of your eye, he casts you no more than an amused glance. Polishing off his lunch and dusting his hands, he looks away to watch the horses.

The morning hours before passed with no mention of what transpired by firelight. All the tension that has built up between you two in the dark burned off with the daybreak mist, and you’re feeling a lot lighter after your little bedtime distraction. And in the absence of any suggestive ogling or innuendoes from the cowboy, you conclude that you must have gotten away with it. All you are is a bit saddle sore, but nothing too serious, and you ride on with little difficulty. 

An easy camaraderie has set in between you and Jack after surviving your first night together in the mountains. The banter packs a bit more punch now that you are no longer complete strangers, and you spend the morning trading horsey stories.

Jack learned to ride on his uncle’s farm. His first pony belonged to his older cousin who lost interest in the sport, so he spent years riding Sparkles, resplendent in matching pink bridle and saddle, until he outgrew her. He worked in and around the equestrian circuit until Champ offered him the job ten years ago, after meeting at a rodeo.

The conversation petered out when the lush green landscape gave way to drier sand, and suddenly, towering ahead, were the famous soaring red earth formations that you’ve been travelling the last two days for. Jutting out of the ground and chiselled by centuries of wind and rain, the echoing clops of the horses’ hooves bounced off the crimson stone as you rode under arches and past columns, dwarfed by the natural architecture.

After spending the better part of an hour exploring the red earth valley, you were taking a quick water break in the shade, when an idea struck you. 

‘Do you think I’d get a discount for my next trip if I helped you guys with your online marketing?’

Jack chuckled. ‘Already thinking about coming back, huh? I mean I’ve always been told that I’m charming, but a turnaround this quick-’

You leaned out of your saddle to give him a small slap on the shoulder for his cheek. ‘Don’t let it get to your head, cowboy. I’m doing it for selfish reasons - a project like this would be a great addition to my portfolio.’

‘What exactly do you do for a living?’ he asked.

Capping your water bottle, you fastened it to its holder. ‘Branding and marketing. I work at an agency now, but someday I want to start my own business, so I always take on projects on the side when I have time.’

‘And you didn’t even bring your own equipment?’ he teased.

You pouted. ‘C’mon, let me borrow yours. I won’t drop it, I promise.’

With a dramatic sigh, Jack relented, ‘You know I can’t say no to you, darlin’.’

Now, hours later, he clearly wishes that he did. Jumping onto his feet, he leans down and unceremoniously plucks the camera from your hands, prompting an indignant cry.

‘That’s it,’ he grunts. ‘I’m laying down the law. No more pictures of me today.’

You shrug, not bothering to look up as he walks away towards the saddlebags. ‘Joke’s on you, cowboy! I got more than enough for your Tinder profile and the ranch.’

At the unexpected click of the shutter, your head snaps up to see Jack grinning at you from behind the camera a couple of feet away. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Taking photos for your profile,’ he replies triumphantly.

You pull your hat down low over your face and grumble, ‘Stop it! I’m covered in sweat and dirt.’

He scoffs. ‘So am I! Didn’t stop you though, did it?’

Ugh. Does this insufferable man not understand that sweat and dirt only adds to his appeal?

You grouse, ‘And how are you going to be able to help with my profile? You’ve never even heard of the app.’

Jack crouches down to pack the camera securely in a saddlebag, peering at you over his shoulder. ‘I’m a man. Surely my opinion would count for something.’

Oh, he doesn’t need to tell you that. He’s all man. One whose very tight jeans are practically straining against his pert backside while he rearranges the packing on one knee.

Standing up, Jack whistles at the horses grazing nearby. He turns to you and says, ‘Come on, darlin’, no more clownin’ around on my watch. We got some ground to cover to get to our camp for tonight.’

You groan half-jokingly, climbing to your feet and grumble, ‘Yes, sir.’

You notice the way he stiffens. There’s a twitch in his neck as if he’s holding himself back from turning towards you, and his jaw shifts like he’s grinding his teeth. When you walk up behind him, he clears his throat deliberately and busies himself with the tack as the horses trot lazily back towards you.

Interesting.

You reach out to rub Scotch on the nose when he approaches, giving him half of the apple you saved for him from lunch. You keep an eye on Jack, your mind whirring, as you saddle up for the afternoon.

Turns out the cowboy wasn’t joking. It’s a seriously hard ride, with long stretches of cantering over flat ground. It’s as exhilarating as it is hard on your body - your calves and thighs are burning, your shoulders ache, and you start to actually worry if you’ll be able to carry on tomorrow. If you even survive this afternoon, that is.

You’re on what feels like the hundredth backbreaking canter streak of the day. Jack and Whiskey a safe four horse-lengths ahead, Bourbon following behind you and Scotch. The sun is veiled by clouds, but the heat is no less forgiving. You’re sweat-soaked to the bone, hair sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck. You’ve never been so desperate for a shower and a cold drink.

You see Jack stand up in his stirrups and turn around in his saddle to check on you. You must look like hell, because he takes mercy on you and holds up a hand to signal the end of the lope. When Scotch slows down to a walk next to Whiskey, he asks, barely winded, ‘You ok, darlin’?’

Panting for air, you reach desperately for your water. ‘Are you trying to kill me, cowboy? You remember what I said about the gym last night, right?’

He chuckles, taking a drink of water himself. ‘I’m sorry, I know I’m pushing you, but there’s somethin’ I want to show you before we lose the light.’

You swipe at a bead of sweat running down the side of your cheek with your clothed shoulder, too tired to sit up straight in the saddle anymore. You point a threatening finger at him. ‘It better be worth it, or I swear I’ll have your head.’

Jack gives you an encouraging pat on the back. ‘I promise it will be. Come on, darlin’, I know you can do it.’

Despite your exhaustion, some baser instinct in you can’t help but preen at his words. Damn your need for approval and praise from the lips of a handsome man.

It’s another hour or so on the road when you discern a drop in temperature, the sun starting its descent for the day, though the sky remains bright. Jack slows you down to an easy trot, craning his neck, as if searching for something. Distracted by an itch on your ankle, deep inside your boots, you don’t notice Whiskey coming to an abrupt halt in front of you.

‘Whoa, sorry,’ you apologise, gathering up the reins last-second to stop Scotch from running straight into the chestnut’s rump. ‘I wasn’t paying atten- ’

You trail off when you look up, hands frozen awkwardly in mid-air as all your motor functions grind to a stop.

You’re not sure how or where it came from - an enormous field of wildflowers in bloom stretches before you, as far as the eye can see.

‘Did I deliver on that promise, darlin’?’

Air rushes into your lungs when Jack’s words register, and only then do you realise you’ve been holding your breath. Robbed of your faculties, you answer with a mute nod.

Jack smiles broadly at your speechlessness. ‘Come on. Let’s take a closer look.’

Scotch follows when Jack nudges Whiskey down the small slope. The meadow parts like softly lapping waves around the horses’ knees, a riot of colour and scent. If it was earlier in the afternoon, you’re sure there would be a muted buzz of honey bees hard at work. It’s mostly still at this hour, other than the whistle of grass and leaves brushing the horses’ legs as you make your way deeper into the field. 

Your eyes dart about, barely focusing long enough to recognise what’s in front of you - bluebells, woodland sage, verbena, daisies, foxglove - and far more that you can’t name off the top of your head. The sweet nectar is overwhelming, and when a breeze stirs, it washes over you like a gentle mist from a perfume bottle.

Slowly regaining your senses, a familiar sound catches your ear. Glancing to your left, Jack has his camera aimed at you as the horses walk slowly.

You grin, not caring that you’re a mess. Your knees brush when the horses drift into each other’s course. ‘Thanks for bringing me here, Jack.’

‘My pleasure,’ he tips his hat at you. ‘So - there’s a camp around three quarters of an hour’s ride away, but we can stay here tonight if you want to.’

Your chest swells excitedly at the prospect, but you demur, ‘Will it be too much hassle? We don’t have anything here.’

With a wave of his hand, Jack dismisses your doubts. ‘It’s just the two of us, it can be easily done. There’s a stream a short distance that way, which is all we need. I’ll take care of everything else.’

A grin breaks across your face. ‘If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble - I’d love to camp here tonight. Thank you.’

Jack nods. ‘Of course. Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

You don't want to contemplate how you’ll ever go back to an existence where you don’t have cowboys with gorgeous brown eyes telling you things like that. And you suppose you don't have to - at least for a few more days.

‘Can I help with anything?’ you offer.

He shakes his head adamantly, one hand outstretched as if to physically stop you. ‘Absolutely not. Stay here with Scotch and Pinto, take a breather, stretch your legs - I’ll get everything ready.’

When Jack and Whiskey return half an hour later, having loaded up on water and firewood, he finds both horses untacked and brushed down. A smile tugs at his lips - of course you wouldn’t listen to him. The tack and saddlebags are neatly laid out, the cooking supplies already unpacked in preparation for dinner.

Scotch and Pinto are lying down, hooves tucked tidily under themselves, snacking on grass and half-dozing. You’re sitting cross-legged next to the palomino, braiding daisies into his white mane. You look up when you hear Jack approach.

‘I moved us further down so we don’t set fire to the field,’ you joke, pointing at the slightly barer patch of land.

‘Well done, darlin’,’ he replies and dismounts, giving Whiskey a big pat before quickly unsaddling him. Tipping his face to the sky, he remarks, ‘I think we’ll have quite a sunset tonight.’

Despite it only being the second day of the trip, you and Jack seem to have settled into a comfortable rhythm. He sets up the fire while you shower, and then you feed the horses - dry feed with apple and carrot bits for tonight - while Jack nips off for his.

He doesn’t protest when you help with dinner - corn chowder and jacket potatoes are on the menu this evening. While Jack preps the vegetables for the soup, you oil, season and wrap the potatoes in foil, planting them directly into the fire for a slow roasting.

At the first sign of the sky turning colours, you set up your phone on timelapse, propping it against your water bottle behind the two of you, with the horses and the campfire in-shot as the sun starts to sink. You don’t have to worry about battery life as the solar chargers are fully charged from abundant sunshine these couple of days, and there will be electricity at the Halfway House when you get there tomorrow.

At some point, both of you stop what you’re doing to watch the sunset. The sky is stained blood orange, the colour dripping from the horizon to stretch across the field of wildflowers until it is awash in red. A flock of birds cut across the cloudless horizon in a homeward formation, their caws echoing in the valley.

The digital click of the shutter pulls you out of your thoughts.

‘Jack,’ you berate him half-heartedly.

‘Come here, darlin’,’ he shuffles closer and turns the camera around so the front is pointed at you both. You can see your reflection in the lens - and he presses the shutter-release.

The chowder is delicious, as has been everything Jack has made so far on the trip. But after dinner, when the plates have been washed and the sleeping bags rolled out, belly full but slumber not yet come knocking, and Jack asks if you want a nightcap with a twinkle in his eyes - you decide that’s your favourite time of the day.

He puts a kettle on the fire, and pulls a tin of cocoa from a saddlebag. ‘You want a hot chocolate? We can make it Irish.’

You chuckle. ‘Sounds good, cowboy.’

Steaming mugs in hand, Jack carefully makes his way to your sleeping bag, the fire tracing his silhouette in bright orange. You take one, legs crossed and elbows on your knees, thanking him before taking a ginger taste. 

A violent cough racks your frame, the potency taking you by surprise. ‘Jesus Christ - is this three-quarters whiskey?’

Jack cracks a roguish grin in your direction. ‘Maybe. But I bet you can take it, darlin’.’

Holy fuck. 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and spreads over the planes of your cheeks, and you duck behind your drink. Under the cover of night, in that gravelly Southern drawl, his words wield an unholy power.

Not ready to spar yet, you take a steadying inhale and a long sip, the alcohol burning on its way down. You grab the camera that’s been lying closeby all evening and say, ‘Let’s go over the photos I took today. I might even let you choose which ones to use for your profile.’

He snorts in jest, but shifts closer so that he can see the screen. ‘Sure, I believe you, darlin’.’

For such a good-looking man, Jack doesn’t seem to have a vain bone in his body. He is complimentary of your photography, stopping you when you want to zoom past the reel of your scenic shots. Instead, he takes the time to politely appreciate the composition, framing and lighting. But whenever one of him shows up, it’s he who wants to fast forward, uncomfortable with the attention of seeing himself on film. 

When your drinks run low, Jack gets up to get more cocoa and hot water. You two are in the middle of an argument about the merits of (or according to him, the lack thereof) candid shots, after he vetoes one that you propose for Tinder.

‘Why that one?’ he disputes, collecting your mug. ‘I’m not even looking at the camera!’

‘That’s the whole point!’ you rebut. ‘It’s natural and in the moment. It’s a great photo of you!’

You ignore him as he grumbles while he mixes the cocoa. You click all the way through the reel, reaching the last photo of the day - the selfie of the two of you at sunset. Glancing up to make sure Jack is still occupied, you steal a moment to really study at the shot. 

It’s a flattering take, the lighting and angle kind on you. You admire the way Jack’s eyes crinkle warmly at the corners, one side of his moustache tilted up with his smile, tidy teeth peeking out from behind that wicked mouth.

This damn cowboy.

Accidentally, your finger brushes a button on the dial, taking you to the top of the SD card. What comes on screen first appears innocuous enough - but when your gaze focuses, you freeze and your jaw drops.

Jack’s just poured a tall measure of whiskey into each mug when he notices you’ve fallen completely motionless, camera still in your hands. With a frown, he leans over to see why.

‘Jesus Christ!’ he swears loudly, leaping forward to snatch it away from you, nearly knocking over both drinks in the process. He just about tosses the machine away as if it burns him. ‘Shit, fuck, shit. Fuck!’

You haven’t heard him cuss much yet on the trip, and you’re not sure if that’s what triggers it, but suddenly you’re laughing so hard that your chest heaves and your lungs ache. Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you gasp for breath, what you saw on the screen seared into your memory.

It’s a photo Jack took of himself in what you assume is a bathroom mirror, his left hand holding the camera. Something about him is different, maybe his hair is a bit shorter, more slicked back. A flannel shirt hangs unbuttoned on his firm body, just like yesterday when he was undressing at the lake. It’s innocent enough up to this point.

Lower still, his belt with the now familiar flask buckle dangles undone, jeans shoved carelessly just past his pelvis. His large hand - which you’re now used to seeing deftly grasping the reins or resting on his thigh as he rides next to you - is wrapped around the base of what appears to be a very generously sized, very hard cock.

You just wish you’d been granted a few more seconds to peruse before Jack ripped the camera from you.

Finally, you wheeze, ‘Who takes nude pics on a DSLR?’

Jack runs a palm over his face and sighs. ‘You saw the state of my phone, the camera doesn’t work. The pictures were for my ex, she lived two states away and we didn’t see each other much. I thought I deleted them ages ago.’

You make grabby hands at the fresh hot chocolates, which he passes to you. You squeak, ‘I’m not drunk enough for this.’

Even in the dark, you can see the tips of his ears turning beet red, and you don't think you're imagining the insecurity in his tone as he mutters, ‘Sorry, that was embarrassin’.’

‘Why are you sorry? I didn’t see anything you should apologise for,’ you reply truthfully, swirling your drink, the hot steam warming your nose as you take a sip. 

Jack peers at you with a bemused frown. ‘No?’

His gaze follows as you lick an errant drop of chocolate from the corner of your mouth. You add slyly, ‘I don’t see anything to be embarrassed about, either.’

‘Is that so?’ He hums thoughtfully, a self-assuredness squaring his broad shoulders as he leans towards you. ‘Does that mean you liked what you saw then, darlin’?’

It’s a loaded question. You give him a lopsided smile, and with more bravado than you feel, you quip, ‘I don’t know - I’ll have to take a closer look, cowboy.’

He holds your challenging stare when he knocks back a mouthful of his drink, and smacking his lips, he grins, ‘All you have to do is ask.’

Batting your eyelashes ironically, you half-joke, ‘Do I have to say please, too?’

Jack breathes out hard through his nostrils, a strangled laugh caught in his chest. He chides, ‘Behave, darlin’.’ 

And with two little words, he turns the tables on you and shoves you up a metaphorical wall. The shudder that ripples through your body at being told to behave by this cowboy doesn’t escape his keen observation, and his lips quirk in a cocksure manner. 

Jack opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but he’s interrupted by a quick succession of pings from your phone, which has been silent since the start of the trip. The sound is alien in the quiet of the mountains.

Your brow wrinkles in confusion. ‘Uh - what’s happening?’

It might be wishful thinking on your part, but disappointment seems to flash across Jack’s features as you change the subject.

‘There’s a weather station nearby. Sometimes we get the splash off,’ he explains.

You give him an enquiring look. ‘You know what I’m going to do now?’

Jack sighs in resignation. ‘I won’t be able to get away with this Tinder business, will I?’

‘Don’t be so glum about it, cowboy, it’s fun,’ you wink. ‘First things first - do you have a Facebook account?’

Lying on your stomach, your pillow tucked under your chest and your socked feet up in the air behind you, you look like you’re settling in for the long haul. Jack rearranges himself accordingly, rolling up his sleeping bag and reclines into it like it was a beanbag. With a deep drag of his drink, he takes stock of the situation. 

First, Champ tries to set him up with you. 

And now, you’re trying to set him up with an online dating account.

If questioned a few moments ago, he would still have thought that he was the cause of your little show last night. Right now - he’s not so sure anymore.

He’d been on the cusp of sleep when he heard you - a whimper that would’ve passed him by if the fire had cackled, or if a breeze had rustled the leaves in the trees. But in that window of perfect silence, he heard you. It paralysed him, sending blood rushing everywhere but his head, and he was up for hours, until his erection was eventually forced to dissipate from literal exhaustion.

Today has been something of a struggle, but he has bouts of sleeplessness every now and then, and even when it gets really fucking bad - he copes. He knows for a fact that you haven’t noticed. Hell, even his own team can’t pick up on it unless it’s been three nights and he literally trips over his feet walking on the fourth morning.

On the upside, at least the fatigue has forced him to keep his head on whatever task is at hand, sparing no room for thoughts about what he heard in the dark. But when you said ‘yes, sir’ earlier with such casual nonchalance, and the way you so boldly met him blow for blow just now - it took him all he’s got to fucking physically hold it together.

He’s not sure how it’s gone from that to you setting him up on Tinder, and by extension, with other women - in so fervent a manner.

Has he been reading you wrong this whole time? He’s barely taken a break from flirting with you, and he knows he’s not imagining your reactions to him when he pushes you a bit harder - just so he can see your eyes widen and hear your breath hitch - for him.

Watching you type on your phone with gusto, shooting questions at him - what’s your email address? How old are you? Do you want to link your Tinder account to your Facebook? - he wonders if he's lost his touch without realising it.

It’s been a couple of years since he broke up with his ex-girlfriend. She was sweet but his heart wasn’t in it, and the long-distance didn’t help. It’s been the odd one night stand here and there since, and while he’s not one to brag, his record is pretty damn near perfect.

Not that there’s much competition in this neck of the woods - well, Tequila puts up a good fight if they’re on a night out together. But right now, he’s the only man for miles and miles, and somehow, he’s still losing.

So he tops up his mug (it’s mostly just whiskey now), and he drinks until you reach out and poke him on the knee, grinning from ear to ear. Jack bites the inside of his cheek and wishes you wouldn’t smile at him like that. Not when he can’t figure you out.

You wear the fireside glow so well, like you’ve always spent your days in the saddle, traversing the Wyoming hinterland, and ending your nights at the warmth of a campfire. 

Like you belong here.

‘What do you think?’ you prompt him, tipping the screen towards him.

He takes your phone and studies it. It’s a photo of him that you took this morning, with his age and job listed on top of it in the bottom left corner. He shrugs. ‘I don’t know, you tell me. I have nothing to compare this to.’ 

Undaunted by his uninspired response, you swipe through enthusiastically, showing him the other uploads. ‘Look, I took some pictures from your Facebook page too. Trust me, you’ll be knee deep in pussy before you know it, cowboy.’

He chokes on his drink, which draws a chortle from you. He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. ‘Are you always so crass, darlin’?’

You salute him with your almost empty mug. ‘Only when nefarious cowboys spike my hot chocolate with way too much whiskey.’

He huffs a laugh. ‘One more or should we call it a night?’

‘We can’t go to bed yet, setting up your account is only step one. I still have to show you how to swipe right,’ you protest, but the screen abruptly goes blank when you tap on it. ‘Shit, the connection’s gone!’

‘Praise the Lord,’ Jack proclaims, turning his palms heavenward in relief. His knees creak when he gets up to add more wood to the fire. ‘What do you want to do now, then?’ 

You put your phone away reluctantly. ‘I don’t know. What do you usually do with guests?’

‘Depends,’ he grunts when he sits down, close to you. ‘If the Kingsman were here, we’d play poker and darts.’

‘I got to say I’m glad they’re not here, then,’ you say with a wrinkle of your nose. It’s getting colder, so you sit up and drape the cosy blanket across your shoulders. When the idea comes to mind, you almost leap up from your seat in excitement. ‘Oh I know! How about a game of never have I ever?’

Jack scoffs. ‘Are you fourteen?’

‘It’s a classic. Please? It’ll be fun,’ you needle, waving the now half-empty bottle at him. ‘We still have to finish this off.’

He pins you with a stern look. ‘We’ll get wasted.’

You shrug with a cheeky grin. ‘So? I’m on holiday, and we’re halfway there already.’

‘Just don’t blame me for your inevitable hangover tomorrow, darlin’,’ he replies in capitulation.

‘I’ll give you a get out of jail card,’ you assure him. Rubbing your hands together, you jump right into it. ‘Ok, I’ll start - never have I ever had a dog.’

Jack drinks, repositioning his long limbs so that he’s sat with one leg outstretched, and the other bent at the knee. He asks, ‘You’re not a dog person?’

‘I love dogs, just never had the space in the city,’ you answer. ‘I’m the designated dog sitter for all of my friends and neighbours though.’

Setting the bottle down between you, Jack continues, ‘Never have I ever had a cat.’

You drink and muse, ‘I miss having a cat - haven’t had one since I was a kid. Maybe I’ll look into adoption when I get home.’

Travel comes up next. You drink at his never have I ever been to Asia (you went backpacking all over for two months after graduation), and he drinks at your never have I ever been to Europe (he travelled to Greece for the Olympics when he worked as a groom for a short stint). 

You trade several more benign questions until, with an impish grin and a rush of alcohol-induced adrenaline, you tilt your head to one side and change the direction of the game. ‘Never have I ever - sent nudes.’

‘That’s not fair!’ complains Jack as you giggle, thrusting the bottle towards him.

‘I’m the guest, I don’t have to play fair,’ you retort.

‘Two can play this game,’ he shoots back, narrowing his eyes playfully. ‘Never have I ever used Tinder.’

‘Well played, cowboy,’ you smirk, grabbing the whiskey from him and taking a sip. After a moment’s consideration, you divulge, ‘Never have I ever had a one night stand.’

His eyebrows reach for his hairline, his voice deep as he comments, ‘So you’re one of them good girls, huh?’

Teeth catching your bottom lip, your answer echoes so clearly between your ears that for a moment, you thought you’d said the words out loud.

I can be. For you.

‘Always been a relationship kinda girl,’ you admit, somewhat belatedly, as he takes a sip.

He smiles, then with a wriggle of his eyebrows, he fires his next shot. ‘Never have I ever - fancied a cowboy.’

Your mouth hangs open in bewilderment, your heart threatening to hammer its way out of the confines of the ribcage. Is he drunk? 

Well, you both are.

He’s watching you, his posture loose and relaxed. There’s no deviousness in his gaze, not even the playful kind. If anything, he appears - genuinely curious?

You suppose you could lie, but… you don’t want to. Keeping your eyes on him, you pluck the whiskey from his grasp. You add high-handedly, ‘Just so you know, I’ve met a lot of cowboys before you. So many, you wouldn’t believe.’

A lazy smirk curls his lips as he watches you take a swig. ‘Sure, darlin’ - what with all the ranches you’ve been to.’

Dangling the bottle in front of his face in a challenge, you retaliate. ‘Never have I ever fancied a guest.’

Instead of reaching out with his fingers, Jack drags himself across the sleeping bag so he’s practically hovering over you to grab the whiskey. Echoing your words, he says, ‘Just so you know, I’ve met a lot of guests before you.’

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. He’s so close you’re tempted to count the whiskers on his neatly trimmed beard.

‘It’s your turn, darlin’,’ rasps Jack, but you’re immobilsed by the brush of his calloused fingers against the tips of yours, planted on the sleeping bag.

You stammer, coming up blank. ‘Um - uh - never have I ever - ever -’

Jack gives you a crooked grin. ‘Need some help?’

Throat dry, you can only nod.

He leans in, his exhale hitting the shell of your ear, and he delivers the coup de grace. ‘Never have I ever touched myself thinking of said cowboy.’

Your eyes widen and you stop breathing. Oh fuck. He heard you. He knows. 

Turns out you weren’t quiet enough after all.

And yet - you can’t bring yourself to be ashamed, not when he’s staring you with something that looks a lot like reverence.

You realise you haven’t addressed the gauntlet he’s thrown down at your feet. Bringing the whiskey to your lips, you confess with a wet gulp of whiskey, the liquid sloshing hollowly in the almost empty bottle when you place it down next to you.

The tension thrums between the two of you like some quantum disturbance, one that’s been building and ebbing for the last forty-eight hours. The air grows thick, his eyes dropping to your mouth the same time his rough palm moves to cover the back of your hand, startling you. Misjudging his proximity, your nose knocks into his cheek when you turn your head, and a quiet gasp slips past your lips when you feel his hot breath brush the hollow of your neck -

So caught up in the moment, it takes you three long seconds to realise that the two of you have suddenly broken apart, and three more for your head to grasp why. 

The ringtone blaring from your phone is deafening in the tension-laden silence. Across the bright screen, your ex’s name flashes clearly. 

Motherfucking cockblocking asshole.

Before you can unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth to protest - or ask him to please stay - Jack has gotten onto his feet with a rueful smile and a shake of his head. Scooping up his sleeping bag and tucking it under one strong arm, he reaches for a bottle of water that he filled up earlier and places it next to your pillow, knowing that you’ll need it in the morning.

Even in the shadows, you can discern his eyes sliding over your face. His whispered words barely reach you as he turns on his heels. ‘Good night, darlin’.’

You let the call ring out.

It’s still dark when you feel a hand grip your shoulder, pulling you out of a shallow slumber.

‘Jack?’ you croak, rubbing your eyes that are sticky with sleep. ‘Is something wrong?’

He shakes his head with a reassuring smile that you can barely see in the din. ‘No, I just wanted to show you somethin’. Put on your shoes and bring your blanket, darlin’, it’s cold.’

Even wrapped up in fleece, you huddle into yourself as you follow him. He leads you past the dying fire and snoozing horses, a thermos in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of a battered thick denim jacket. 

You stumble when your feet catch on knots in the grass, and Jack reaches out to steady you, his reflexes fast even in this ungodly hour.

When your sight slowly adjusts to the darkness, you see that you’re approaching what you presume is Jack’s sleeping bag on the ground. He nudges you gently towards it with a quiet, ‘Make yourself comfortable, darlin’.’

You do, hugging your knees to your chest, your icy fingertips trying to find warmth under the  blanket. Jack settles down next to you, and noticing your shiver, he wraps his extra quilt around your shoulders.

‘Tea?’

‘Yes please.’

The thermos warms your hands as you hold it, hot steam hitting your face as you drink carefully so you don’t burn your tongue. You’re too groggy (and more than a bit hungover) to try to figure out what is going on, and Jack doesn’t enlighten you, happy to sit in the silence as you pass him the bottle. The tea burns a comforting trail down to your stomach, warming you from the inside.

You don’t have to wait long for what comes next.

It starts with the faintest of glows. The ghost of your breath misting in front of your face. The distant, backlit profile of the Bighorn. The outline of bush and flora, then the textures fill in as the light swells. And without warning, the dawn breaks, colour spilling across the field of wildflowers, like a light has been switched on. 

A light fog hangs in the air, gently refracting the morning rays into an iridescent sheen. In every direction, the ground is carpeted by a sea of summer blooms. It looks like a page ripped straight out of a book that starts with the age-old refrain of once upon a time. 

You turn to Jack. He’s watching you closely with a smile, hair sleep-mussed, the sunrise casting him in rose gold.

It might have been you. It might have been him. It might not matter in the grand scheme of things. 

The next thing you know, your shoulders bump and your lips meet. A sigh catches in your throat when he takes your lower lip between his, dragging slowly and sweetly, the wet friction and the tickle of his moustache on your Cupid’s bow chasing a shiver down your spine. 

When he pulls back, he traces the tip of his nose across your cheek before tucking it behind your ear, his arm closing in around your waist.

‘Happy birthday, darlin’.’

More notes: They're going to get to the Halfway House next chapter. Just FYI 👀 I've really made you guys wait for the smut for this one, I swear I didn't plan it this way, but here we are. In the meantime, I'm going to try not to psyche myself out because I haven't written any smut since Consent ended. But I'll worry about that later, for now, thank you for reading and for the wonderful feedback so far - comments and reblogs are so appreciated as always!

Horsey notes (optional reading): This part is a bit thin on horses so this is quite random. Horses love treats - carrots, apples and polo mints will all be devoured. Make sure the treats aren't cut too small to encourage horses to chew before they swallow. Carrots can be broken into 2 or 3 pieces, and should be fed horizontally instead of vertically, to encourage chewing. Apples can be quartered or halved. When feeding, stretch out your hand flat, don't curl up your fingers or you can accidentally get bitten!

[writerscurse]

In the Eye of the Storm | Aemond Targaryen x reader | Chapter 3

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!reader

Word count: 3,145

Summary: You’re visiting King’s Landing with your family to reaffirm your younger brother Lucerys’ birthright as the rightful heir to Driftmark. During your stay, you reconnect with Aemond Targaryen. You had once been friends, but that was long ago. And the man in front of you now, is not the shy kid you used to know. Can you reconcile despite your differences or will the rift between your families break you apart?

Warnings/tags: Incest (it’s the Targaryens), slow burn, fluff, angst, violence, death, smut

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

All works are my own. Please don’t copy, plagiarize, post on other websites or translate.

The past weeks at Dragonstone had been hard on you. You found yourself thinking about Aemond on a daily basis and missed him more with each passing day. But you could not tell that to your family when the visit to King’s Landing had left such a bitter taste in their mouths.

You spent your morning in the great room watching your brothers study High Valyrian and minding your own business when Ser Lorent arrived, announcing that Rhaenys had requested an audience. Your mother proceeded to send out your brothers but asked you to stay. She knew the king’s end was nigh, so she had started involving you more and more in official matters as you were the upcoming heir to the throne.

Your mother was hopeful for good news from the princess, but all that was squashed when Rhaenys opened her mouth.

‘Viserys is dead’, she spoke and your heart sank, ‘I grieve this loss with you, Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father possessed a kind heart.’

You looked around, both Daemon and your mother were in utter shock, trying to process what they had just learned. You stepped towards your mother, resting your hands on her arms to support and console her.

‘There is more. Aegon has been crowned as his successor’, Rhaenys continued and your mother flinched, seemingly in disbelief and pain.

‘How did Viserys die?’, Daemon asked, joining both you and your mother.

Your vision got blurry as you kept holding onto your mother, unsure if it was to support her or yourself. You intently listened, finding out what had happened in King’s Landing, Daemon assuming that his brother had been slain. Just as Rhaenys warned you that the Greens were coming, your mother flinched again. After she bent over, her hand was covered in blood. The babe was coming and it was way too early.

You told the guards to alert the midwives as you clung on to your mother, taking her to her chambers. Your thoughts were racing, trying to process everything that had happened. Your grandsire was dead, murdered potentially. Your mother’s crown was stolen and you suddenly found yourself in a war, opposite of the man you cared for so deeply. And now your mother had gone into labour, way too early, most likely due to stress and uncertainty caused by this situation.

Your mother was shouting in pain, asking to be left alone, so you did the only thing you could do. You kept the midwives at bay, but still nearby in case your mother redecided her choices. Then you called for Jace and Luke, not wanting to leave your dear mother alone in this situation. When they arrived, you let them know about the circumstances. The king had passed, and Aegon was unrightfully crowned king. You knew Daemon would already be plotting revenge, but your mother was the queen now. And he was not to act without her consent. They took in the information and acted mature beyond their ages when they walked away taking care of the situation, just as you asked.

By the time you came back into your mother’s chambers, the birth was already done. But it was no joyous occasion. You found your mother sitting on the floor, cradling the tiny babe in her hands. Lifeless. Tears welled up in your eyes and you joined her, wrapping your arms around her, grieving this loss right by her side.

How the rest of the day passed, you didn’t know. You felt numb the entire time. From dragging your mother off that cursed floor to burning the remains of your newborn sibling. Everything felt out of place and you didn’t know how to go back to reality. You couldn’t remember how long you had cried that night, but when you got up in the morning, you put on a black dress and cloak and took a deep breath. It was time to leave the past behind you. Your grandfather was gone, so was your sibling. Aemond was unreachable and you knew you would be fighting him sooner or later. So the time for sentimentalities had passed.

You walked behind your mother every time as she entered the war room for various council meetings, refusing to leave her side. She handled the situation with the dignity of a true queen, but you needed her to know that she could always count on your support.

Lord Corlys had just arrived, declaring his loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra and offering a plan to conquer King’s Landing.

‘If we are to have enough swords to surround King's Landing, we must first secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm's End’, your mother announced and Lord Celtigar offered to prepare the ravens.

Jace shook his head. ‘We should bear those messages. Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they're more convincing. Send us’, he stated. Lord Velaryon agreed, which seemed to convince your hesitant mother.

‘Very well. Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North’, your mother declared before facing you and continuing, ‘Prince Lucerys will accompany you. You will fly south to Storm's End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. I expect him to already have received a proposal from Aegon. Lord Baratheon is easily swayed, so we need to show strength. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore. And the cost of breaking them.’

‘Yes, my queen’, you nodded to your brother, motioning for him to follow you as you left the room to prepare for your journey to Storm's End. Before leaving, your mother met you outside to hand you the message to Lord Baratheon. She made both of you swear to not act as warriors and asked you to keep an eye on your younger brother, should things not go according to plan. Bidding her and Jace farewell, you mounted your dragons and started making your way south.

It was a short flight, but the imminent storm made it harsh. It had not quite started to rain yet, but it was extremely windy, making flying difficult. You tried your best to shield Luke and Arrax from the worst of it, being a more experienced rider with a much bigger dragon. As you were about to land, a roar cut through the noise of the storm and when you broke through the clouds you immediately spotted Vhagar. Suddenly, your stomach twisted. Aemond was here. Not only had he made his proposal to Lord Baratheon before you could, but you would have to face him again. Not as a friend, but as his newfound enemy. Your face turned towards Luke once you had landed, trying to hide the panic that was rising within you. Aemond would not be pleased seeing him. But you had promised your mother to keep him safe and that’s exactly what you intended to do.

Both of you dismounted your dragons and made your way up to the guards requesting an audience with Lord Borros Baratheon.

‘Prince Lucerys and Princess Y/N Velaryon. Son and daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen’, the knight announced when you entered the throne room.

You immediately saw him. His face turned towards you as soon as he heard your name. A sad look crossed his eye for a moment, before he regained his composure. You could not take your eyes of him and neither could he. Fighting the urge to run to him, you finally faced Lord Baratheon.

‘Lord Borros, we brought you a message from our mother, the queen’, you tried to sound confident. Luke handed the message to a guard while Lord Baratheon mocked you from his throne before reading what your mother had to say.

‘Remind me of my father's oath. King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact’, he laughed. Your head turned to face Aemond as soon as you heard the word ‘marriage’. You couldn’t believe it. Just weeks ago you thought you would be the one to wed him. He averted his gaze, eyes fixated on the ground in front of him. If you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t notice, but you recognised that look of shame and regret on his face. He desperately tried to ignore you.

‘If I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will you wed, boy?’, Lord Baratheon continued, directly addressing Luke this time.

‘My lord, I am not free to marry. I'm already betrothed’, Lucerys responded, trying not to let his fear show.

‘So you come with empty hands. Go home, then. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes’, he spat at you.

Luke’s eyes were wide, so you spoke up for him, ‘We shall take your answer to the queen, my lord.’ You put your hand on your brother’s shoulder and turned around, trying to leave the castle as fast as possible.

‘Wait’, Aemond shouted behind you and you both turned around, ‘my Lord Strong. Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?’

Luke stepped forward and you kept a close eye on him when he announced that he would not fight Aemond. The situation was tense, but you still had hope that you and your brother could just leave this godforsaken place.

‘A fight would be little challenge. No, I want you to put out your eye’, you watched Aemond intently as he pulled his eyepatch off his face, revealing the full extent of his scar to you for the first time. A gasp got stuck in your throat. You noticed the bright sapphire where his eye once was. Under different circumstances, you would have marvelled at the beauty of the deep blue gemstone, but right now, he looked menacing.

‘As payment for mine. One will serve. I would not blind you. I plan to make a gift of it to my mother’, Aemond continued, throwing his dagger at your brother, still ignoring your presence. You briefly worried that Luke would actually respond to his uncle’s threats, but he continued to act confidently and maturely, simply denying Aemond’s wishes.

‘Then you are craven as well as a traitor’, you could tell that the prince was losing his patience with your brother. Lord Baratheon tried to intervene, but Aemond was already running towards Luke, yelling that he would take his eye then. Without hesitation, you pushed your brother behind you, pulling out your sword and standing protectively in front of him. This made Aemond stop. A flash of worry crossed his eye and broke up his hateful attitude. But before a fight could erupt, Lord Baratheon called for his guards to take you away. You sheathed your sword, taking one last look at the silver-haired prince in front of you, not knowing if you felt angry at him or hurt that you had to leave him behind.

You knew this wasn’t over. Luke had barely made it to his dragon, when Aemond stormed out of the castle, running towards him, his dagger still in his hand. But he hadn’t thought about you. Before he could even get close to your brother, you cut him off. Swiftly blocking his way, his face just inches from yours as you held your dagger against his throat.

‘Don’t do this’, he growled at you, breathing heavily, his body shaking with anger. Rain was falling heavily around you, Aemond hair started clinging to his face and all you wanted was to reach out and fix it. You wanted to hold him again. But you knew that this was a life or death situation.

‘Luke, get on your dragon’, you shouted, without turning around, ‘You need to leave.’

You knew he was about to protest, but Aemond moved forward, trying to make his way around you, so he could get to your brother. You pushed yourself against him using your bodyweight, attempting to keep him in place. Your dagger was digging into his neck now, drawing first blood.

‘I don’t want to hurt you’, he murmured before facing your brother again, yelling, ‘I just want your little bastard brother. I’m going to take his eye! Give him what he deserves!’

‘You will do no such thing,’ you shouted back at him. That was the moment that Aemond had enough. With one swift move he pulled back, ducking under your arm when you swung your dagger at him. He was much quicker than you and before you could even realise it, he was behind you, grabbing your wrist that was still holding the dagger and firmly forcing it up to your throat.

‘No’, Luke screamed, starting to dismount Arrax.

‘You will stay where you are’, you looked up at him, throwing your body around, trying to get out of Aemond’s grip. But he was stronger than you, and unlike a few weeks ago at the Red Keep, this had nothing to do with a bit of harmless fun.

Aemond bent down, whispering in your ear, ‘and how exactly are you planning to keep me away from your brother?’

‘You are still engaged in a fight with me, are you not?’, you growled at him, still trying to free yourself.

‘Ah yes. But what could you give me that I want? It is not your pretty eye that I desire’, he mused. He was enjoying this and you couldn’t believe his words. You realised that the kind young boy you once loved so much, might be gone after all.

‘Me. I give myself to you’, you groaned, ‘not an eye as a gift for your mother. But a whole Targaryen.’ It was a desperate attempt to save your brother. He would be lost if you could not make this work.

You felt his grip loosen slightly and his body soften behind you. He had not expected that. This was your moment.

You looked up at your dragon and shouted at him, ‘Sōvegon, Vermithor. Istia mīsagon Arrax. Dohaeragon Luke. Jikagon, sir’, telling him to protect Arrax and Luke and leave you behind. A deep, painful roar filled the air. Your dragon visibly disagreed with you. You were worried that he wouldn’t listen, but then he spread his wings and you watched him lift off. You vaguely heard your brother screaming as Arrax followed Vermithor’s lead, leaving you and Aemond alone in the courtyard.

‘No!’, Aemond shouted, finally letting go of you, ‘what have you done?’

You pushed yourself away from him and turned around, your dagger still in your hand, not knowing what to expect. Aemond’s breathing was heavy and rapid. He was filled with fury that Vhagar seemed to share, as her roar cut through the air around you.

‘I saved my brother. I will not let you mutilate him’, you told him. Aemond let out a guttural scream, clearly angered by your actions. Like a wild animal, he darted towards you, his hand wrapping itself around your throat. Fear rose within you, but you noticed that he twitched. He couldn’t do it. He simply couldn’t harm you. So he just kept you in place, his face coming down to yours. He was so close that you could feel his breath on your lips.

‘If you were anyone else, I would kill you right now’, he hissed. Not knowing what to say, you just continued to stare up at his face. You had never felt that many emotions in a single moment before. Anger was flooding you, but as you continued to look into his violet eye, being so close to him, you felt grief inside you. You wanted the man he used to be and you were grieving what could have been between you two.

With another frustrated groan, he let go of you, moving backwards a few steps. You watched him pace for a while as he tried to calm himself.

‘Come with me’, he eventually announced, walking off to where you could see Vhagar waiting for him. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to come. You wouldn’t be returning home today. You were the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and you willingly agreed to join those whose interest most likely was to murder you. All you could hope for was that Aemond still had some amicable feelings left for you and would protect you.

You kept your distance to the prince as you watched him approach his dragon. He was about to mount Vhagar when he turned around to you, his face back to its usual cold demeanour. You couldn’t help but to stare at that sapphire again and did your best to shove down the urge to touch his cheek.

‘Let me help you’, Aemond said, his voice sounding drained, and he reached out to you. But you couldn’t face the prospect of touching him, so you simply passed him, gently resting your hand on Vhagar to make sure that she would agree to your presence. When she didn’t react, you proceeded to climb up the dragon’s rump until you were seated on her back. It didn’t take much longer for Aemond to join you. The saddles on dragons were rather large, but usually not meant for two people. You could feel his chest pressing up against your back as he got seated. You blushed slightly at the sudden closeness and were grateful that Aemond could not see your face when he reached forward. His arms were at both your sides while he grabbed the ropes that helped him guide Vhagar. You instinctively held on to the saddle, not quite used to sharing a dragon with another person.

‘Are you ready?’, Aemond asked quietly, making sure you were safely in place, before he gave Vhagar the command to fly. You simply nodded your head and within seconds, the dragon below you spread her wings and you rapidly rose up towards the sky. Despite trying to hold onto the saddle, you felt yourself falling backwards directly sinking into Aemond’s embrace. A slight chuckle erupted behind you and you felt your heart jump at the sound. You hated yourself for having these feelings for Aemond despite what had just happened.

Your mother was right, he was vengeful. He was also unpredictable and erratic. But despite all his flaws, he had never harmed you and you wanted to believe that he could overcome his difficult past. It was frustrating, really, because you wanted to hate him for how he treated your family. You just couldn’t get yourself to do so. And now you had to live with the consequences of your feelings and actions.

Go to Chapter 4.

Taglist: If you want to get on or off my taglist, please let me know.

@stargaryenx @dark-night-sky-99 @caspianobsessed @strwbrrypuddings

[darkestcorners]

darknets | yandere!jungkook au

pairings: yandere!jungkook x reader (f)

genre: yandere

warnings: 18+, obsessive & unhealthy behavior, spying, stalking, doxxing, non-consensual videotaping, tormenting, manipulation, kidnapping,

word count: 11.6k

Playlist

Parts: 01 / 02

A/N; Hi guys so bad news left the final draft of my second halloween fic on a writing app on my ipad at home like an idiot and im out of town right now so i won’t be able to post the second installment of my halloween series until monday ( i will try to have it up sooner but please bare with me!) im posting this fic that has been in my drafs for months, the events happen during halloween times so its good enough for some spooky vibes. im so sorry but i hope you enjoy this fic in the meantime!:)

summary: You should of known better than to chat with strangers online….

The raindrops were loud against the small bedroom window .The wet pavement outside created a glare against the night sky and you watched as the intersection lights changed from green to yellow, to red and back again. The slight fog made it difficult to fully make out the cars from where you sat but instead you observed the strangers that made their way back home, likely from their night shift, a somber expression on their faces as they tugged their jackets and coats tighter around their bodies. You eyed the way they stepped on the muddy puddles on the sidewalk ever so often.

It was safe to say you were beyond bored. Enough to stare at pedestrians out your window instead of finishing what you were supposed to be doing which was writing your essay for your sociology class.

You pulled your gaze from the window and stared at your laptop screen, watching as the little blue icon lit up. It was taking forever to load which wasn’t a surprise, you were in need of a new computer for years now but you were not getting one anytime soon. Much less now with your father’s plummeting health.

Your fingers tapped against your flimsy wooden desk impatiently, sighing in relief as your screen finally loaded and you logged into your Microsoft account.

Your eyes glossed over your assignment instructions again and read over the Professor’s notes.

“Make sure it’s in MLA format blah blah blah..” You muttered as you clicked out of your college website and pressed on the saved Word document you had started yesterday.

Much to your disappointment, you still had a lot to work on. You barely had a two paragraphs written and you ran your hands over your face in exhaustion.

Your shift at the grocery store had kicked your ass today and you really wondered why so many people had woken up today and practically swarmed the store.

Granted, you were only a cashier and it wasn’t like you were doing the actual hard labor but it was just as stressful, you didn’t do well under pressure and customers yelling at you was the last thing you had needed to start your morning off.

The knock on your door did little to waver your attention from your screen as your fingers worked to type and rename your essay.

“Y/n!” You heard your little brother call from behind you, it was followed by a click and the door squeaking open.

“What have I told you about opening my door without permission?” You whipped your head at him, clear annoyance in your tone.

“I knocked!”

“And? I didn’t say ‘come in’.” You turned back and faced your screen again, continuing to type.

You heard him sigh, clearly fed up with your reaction and bad mood.

“Mom said dinner is ready.” He stressed in a whining tone, you wondered when he would grow out of that habit of his. It bothered you to no end.

“Since when does mom cook?” Your snorted.

You felt bad for the comment but it was true, the last time your mother had cooked for either of you was when you yourself were a little girl. A part of you wondered when you would see that side of her again, the doting and affectionate mother because what was left of her was anything but. You were sure you could blame your father for that but you wouldn’t dare bring that up while he was sick.

“It’s takeout.”

You hoped it was Chinese.

“I’m not that hungry right now, I’ll get some later. “ You dismissed him.

That was a lie, you were kinda of hungry but you didn’t feel like sitting at dinner with your parents tonight. It was the same ordeal everyday, it has been ever since your father had been diagnosed. Dinner was always painfully uncomfortable, consisting of your mother’s passive aggressive comments in an attempt to not lash out at her neglectful husband while still somehow trying to keep the peace and savior her failed marriage. All while your father sat idly in his seat, barely uttering a few words in response. It was clear he was over it and had been for a while.

But you weren’t sure if he was over your mother or all of you in general.

You could practically feel your brother still lingering at the door.

“What are you doing?” Ji-hwan questioned and you sighed, not wanting to entertain your brother’s nosey questions.

“An essay, now leave. Go play some video games or something,” You mumbled the last words mainly to yourself and finally hear him shut the door behind you.

You clicked on the backspace on your keyboard relentlessly as the screen seemed to freeze up and you groaned. You couldn’t lose the little work you had written, you were already on a time crunch.

“Come on,” You clicked on your mouse, moving it around in an attempt to get the laptop to start working again. You were starting to get fed up as nothing seemed to be working but you refused to shut it off like you usually did, the thing would have to start working eventually.

A black window suddenly appeared on your screen and you squinted. It looked like some type of web browser but you didn’t recognize the name, you were sure you had never used it before, let alone installed it.

“I swear to god if I got a virus..” You cursed as you tried to exit the window but when you tried , it only duplicated and a website popped up. It didn’t look like a regular website, there was random codes all over the dark screen in a green text. It was a bunch of different letters and numbers being repeated over and over.

You were sure you had virus now.

You thought back to what you could of possibly downloaded to get it but nothing came to mind. You rarely downloaded anything, the few times you had were only school related. The only other people who had been on your laptop recently was your brother and your friend, Mina for a project you were doing together a couple of weeks ago.

Your bets were for sure on your little brother.

Suddenly, the codes disappeared and your screen went black again, it had a username in and password requirement in the middle with a red log in button beneath the letters.

You tried to click out of it but when your fingers tapped against your mouse, the screen loaded and displayed what seem to be some type of video playing.

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as the video showed nothing but an empty bedroom. Your eyes traveled across the screen, a bright red text read ‘LIVE’ on the top left corner.

What the hell?

Your eyes met the chat box down below it that was moving a bit too fast for your liking.

[ Live Chat ]

0kj12: come on show us already!

tae-h23fk: he didn’t do it lmfao

jk_97: the fucker totally pussied out of it

jm138p: why the hell is he stalling so much for

What they were saying only left you more confused and your curious gaze met the video again , you saw someone shifting from the corner of the room, the side of his body slightly coming into frame and he seemed to be pulling on something.

What was going on?

jk_97: i told him he should’ve planned ahead , he acts too impulsively

jm138p: i sent him the [encrypted message ] last week and he didn’t listen to me

0kj12: those are a bitch to get a hold of, i ran them through last month and it took me a good 5 hours to decode it

jk_97: 5 hours?? are you serious haha

tae-h23fk: hey not everyone is a pro like you man

Your curiosity got the best of you and before you could think twice, your fingers met the keyboard.

[ user na21_ has entered the chat ]

na21_: what is this??

You didn’t even know why you could chat in the box or where that username had come from, you figured it was just due to not being signed up on whatever the hell this website was that it randomly generated you a user.

tae-h23fk: nice of you to join us

0kj12: hey did you get the email i sent you ? and the file?

Email? File? What were they talking about?

na21_: what file?? and what is this video ?

jk_97: why are you playing dumb you know what it is

0kj12: the [encrypted message ] i need it , payment is due this week

na21_: i have no idea what you’re talking about

jm138p: typing….

jm138p: you’re stoned aren’t you

You frowned as you continued to type.

na21_: idk how i got here it just popped up on my screen

tae-h23fk: cut the bullshit when are you going to have it ready

jk_97: typing…..

jk_97: hold up i need to check something

You sighed in frustration.

na21_: i’m not playing with you now will you tell me how to exit this fucking thing

tae-h23fk: the hell are you on about

You scoffed, these definitely had to be some preteens acting all tough behind a screen.

When you went to type again your message wouldn’t send. You re-tried to send it again but the same thing happened, your message wouldn’t show up in the chat box.

Then one username in the chat box was highlighted, the texts a bright red.

jk_97: how did you log into this account? this is a private chat

You knitted your eyebrows. You went to type again and this time it let you but your messages were in gray now instead of black, you figured this must of meant they were only visible to the one user that was highlighted because you watched the rest of the chat continue to have a conversation that was completely unrelated to you.

na21_: im telling you idk , it literally popped up on my screen

jk_97: there’s no way you could of accessed this without downloading the software required so stop playing stupid

jk_97: tell me how you logged into this specific account

na21_: idk! i just clicked the screen and it automatically logged me in?? can you just tell me how to exit out this thing

jk_97: i don’t recognize your IP address so you definitely haven’t been on here before , who are you?

You bit your lip as you contemplated how to respond. You were getting a bit sketched out by how seriously he was taking this whole thing.

na21_:typing….

jk_97: forget it, i’ll found out myself

Your eyes widened as you read over the message. What did they mean by that?

Your mouse tapped against the screen, trying to click on anything else to somehow close this window but your attempts were no use. The website didn’t even have an exit button. You tried pressing the ‘esc’ key as well which usually would of worked but it didn’t this time. Of fucking course .

Your attention traveled back to the video above that was playing. The camera was moving angles and a person finally appeared behind the screen, it looked like a man but what really threw you off was the Vendetta mask he wore. The image was already disturbing but your eyes nearly bulged out of your sockets when you took notice in what was behind him.

There was a woman chained to his bed, what looked like duct tape was covered around her mouth and her muffled screams hit your ears. She shook vigorously around the bed as the man positioned the camera upwards, fitting both of them into the frame as he held it up with one hand. It was as if he was vlogging the entire experience and the casual attitude in the midst of her frantic behavior was incredibly unsettling.

You watched as he flipped over the camera, no longer showcasing himself but only her instead. She wore a simple tank top and some gym shorts, one sock still on her foot. The man behind the camera came to grasp her face gently, caressing her tear stained cheeks as she flinched back from his touch, another high pitched muffle leaving her.

This couldn’t be real right? This had to be some type weird roleplay. You knew some people were into that stuff but you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling in your chest. If this was simply a roleplay, the girl could act her ass off.

But what if it wasn’t?

Your gaze fell back on the chat box underneath that you had forgotten for a moment.

0kj12: ah fuck you actually did it..

jk_97: it was about time

jm139p: fuck shes hot you’re a lucky bastard

There was no way you were reading all of this correctly. Your eyes darted back and forth to the video and the chat box, trying to figure out what was happening and how real it all actually was. You knew there was certain websites that indulged in certain strange activities but nothing about this screamed pornography, at least not yet.

That one user was back to a highlighted red.

jk_97: you’re a little college student, aren’t you baby girl? and a pretty one at that

jk_97: you shouldn’t be on here but i think you already figured that out

You felt your heart sink at the message. The irritation you had been feeling quickly replaced with fear as you read over the message again and again.

Okay, maybe you were wrong.

This was definitely not just some random sketchy website. No, you were starting to suspect it was a bit more than that and you could only hope you were wrong and these people were just fucking with you.

You took a deep breath and decided on the one smart thing to do for once since you had acted so impulsively up until now.

na21_: first of all im a dude and i’m in high school so idk what you’re talking about

A clear lie and you knew it was unlikely for them to fall for it but you didn’t no what else to respond. It’s not like you were about to confirm what they just said.

jk_97: you’re scared, did the video frighten you?

jk_97: don’t worry, the girl is in good hands. in fact, it was long overdue.

Was he implying that it wasn’t a roleplay? Or was this part of the act?

na21_: is this one of those extreme roleplay sites?

jk_97:typing…

jk_97: you’re too cute

jk_97: you should get out of this web browser before you come across the wrong people

You had a feeling that you already did.

jk_97: and one more thing….

jk_97: you look extra pretty when you’re scared

Look?

How could they have possibly-

Before you even finish your thought, your eyes darted over to your webcam, the green dot glaring back at you.

Shit.

You slammed your laptop shut and let out a gasp.

The desk shook as you pushed yourself off your chair and took a step back, as if the distance you were creating with your computer would help ease the anxiety.

You were being dramatic, right?

The chances of this stranger knowing your personal information that fast wasn’t likely. Plus, you had not even shared anything at all or downloaded the website? Granted, you were not the most tech-savvy person but you were sure you needed to actively look for and download certain browsers to access those parts of the internet.

But how had they accessed your webcam? Or had you turned it on beforehand unknowingly? You knew you had used it a while ago for your speech class video assignment but you were sure you hadn’t used it again since. Had you? Even if you had it on, you didn’t understand how they could see you, you didn’t see yourself being displayed on the website at all.

It couldn’t have been what you were thinking, the web browser had popped up like some kind of ad, there was no way it would have given away all your information like that. Especially not things so specific.

Still, you were a bit shaken up. The added stress of the school work that awaited you didn’t help at all. You sighed and took out your phone, deciding to get some of your essay done on it instead. You didn’t feel like opening up your computer again yet.

You paced for a while before you made your way over to your bed and let yourself fall on the comforter.

Chill out, you thought to yourself.

It was most likely some fucked up people trying to get a laugh.

But no matter how much you tried to rid yourself of the intrusive thoughts, your mind kept going back to that video you saw. The man, that creepy mask and most importantly the girl. Was she okay? That was dumb to even wonder, she didn’t look okay at all, she had been completely frantic and you couldn’t help but wonder if she really did need help.

What if you had actually witnessed a person being held hostage?

Stop it, no you didn’t.

There was no way someone would post something like that online, exposing themselves completely.

Unless.

Unless it was what you thought it was. You had heard of the dark web before, I mean who hadn’t? But there was no way that was what you had accessed. Plus, you had heard how hard it was to access in the first place, the stories usually involved you needing to download certain softwares and search engines. You needed to know your way around it to some degree and you were positive you never came close to accessing or ever wanted to. It certainly wasn’t a simple click away on some random pop up.

“Y/n!” Your mother’s sudden voice made you flinch and you sighed as you pressed your hand over your chest.

“Dinner!” She yelled, her voice easily traveling through the thin walls of the confined apartment.

“I’ll be there in a second!” You shouted back, letting your phone drop beside you on the mattress as you got up to walk towards your door.

Chinese takeout could maybe help your illogical nerves.

—-

The last thing you wanted to be doing right now was attempt to put a colored eye contact in your little brother’s eyes without completely blinding him in the process. Your pointer finger grasped the top of his eyebrows while your thumb stretched the skin beneath his eye to widen them further.

“Stay still.” You muttered in deep concentration as you brought the contact closer to his eye , but just as the tips touched his orb he blinked harshly causing the contact to slip from your unsteady fingers .

“Jih-wan!” You yelled in frustration.

“Ow,” He groaned as he blinked rapidly and a few teardrops slipped down his cheeks.

“You know , I don’t think Jason needs red eyes.” You concluded as you took a look at his poorly done costume, the plastic white mask far too big for his face hung loosely around his neck and he wore a simple ripped t-shirt underneath his jacket.

But you really were in no position to critique , you had a far less inappropriate outfit on and it wasn’t much more creative either. The tight black mini skirt you wore was just a slight breeze away from showing your entire backside. It was a good thing you decided to wear black tights underneath.

Obviously you had your own concerns regarding your costume considering it wasn’t even a costume, just some skimpy outfit with a pair of cat ears.

Then again, that was what the majority of college student Halloween costumes consisted of.

“Besides, didn’t you get these at a dollar store? You will surely get pinkeye by the end of the night.” You frowned as you stared down at the carpet floor, there was no way you would be finding that tiny contact now.

“Whatever .” Ji-hwan replied as as he fixed the smeared blood over his face. “It was meant to make it look cooler.”

“You’re dressed as the most basic horror movie villain, some contacts aren’t going to make it more impressive.” You state dryly and watched him scowl at you.

“At least I have an excuse, I’m twelve.” He scoffed, pointing towards your outfit. “ You’re twenty something with some cat ears.”

“I’m nearly twenty, you brat.” You defended, pretending his words didn’t offend you just a tiny bit. “ and I had little work with, we’re on a budget.”

The night was already not going as planned. For one, your parents had burdened you with the responsibility of babysitting your brother and taking him trick or treating tonight. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to babysitting your brother your whole life but tonight was different, you had been invited to a Halloween party by your crush, the same guy you had been infatuated with since the beginning of high school.

Of course your parents had to get in the way of your plans but what bothered you the most is that it wasn’t because of something important or work related, well technically they were attending a Halloween party at your father’s office but it wasn’t directly related to his job.

Besides, who actually throws office Halloween parties? You thought they only threw Christmas ones and spent most of the time gossiping about how much they hated their coworkers rather than actually getting along.

A bunch of middle aged adults gathered up in a small office with cheap wine and some undercooked microwaved pizza didn’t exactly sound appealing but then again maybe that would change when you turned forty and had kids.

Your friend Mina had texted you saying you should stop by the party but you were having doubts. Plus, Mina had sent you a picture of her costume and she had looked amazing as always, you were a little bitter she had not told you to dress up with her considering she was dressed as Bubbles, a power puff girl that you could of easily matched with but you knew she hadn’t expected you to come in the first place. You had mentioned how you were planning on staying home with your brother and watching movies instead.

From Mina: Girl you better come, you look hot asf.

You smiled as you read over her reply to the quick mirror selfie of your outfit you had sent her.

But the smile quickly was wiped off your face when you noticed another notification pop up.

From Unknown Number: Cat ears?Come on you could do better than that baby. Just because your friend is dressed like a whore doesn’t mean you have to.

You knitted your eyebrows at the crude message. Who the hell was this?

Your phone buzzed again.

From Unknown Number: But I must say, you do look sexy in that little skirt.

“What the fuck..” You muttered as you tapped on the number.

To Unknown Number: Who the hell is this ??

You couldn’t begin to explain how freaked out you were , had you accidentally sent the selfie to this random number as well? But as you scrolled up, there was in indeed no picture that was sent. This only left you feeling more confused, how the hell did they know what you had sent?

You looked down at the new message.

From Unknown Number: Did you forget me already ?

You stared blankly at the message, thinking over what they were saying.

No way.

There was no way it was one of those people you had chatted with, right?

The shady incident had happened over a week ago, it had long left your mind and you had completely forgotten about it up until this moment.

Now everything was coming back to you and that same paranoia greeted you once again.

Your fingers grazed over the keyboard and you saw the little blue dots forming, they were typing again.

Before they could even send another message you quickly tapped the block button.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you brought your phone down and took a quick glance around the room, was someone possibly watching you? Is that how they know what you were wearing?

Or was it maybe some sick Halloween prank? Maybe your friend had given out your number to a weirdo you went to class with or had shared your selfie with someone else? You were thinking of every possible reasonable explanation but even those seemed to far fetched. You knew Mina wasn’t the type to give out your number randomly.

Not to mention they had messaged you nearly right after you had sent her the selfie, how could she have had time to send it that fast to someone else? No, there was no way.

Calm down, calm down.

It could of just been a simple glitch in your phone.

“Are we going now?” Your little brother whined beside you and you blinked at him, as if barely realizing what you had been doing before the weird texts.

“Um,” You nodded, clearing your thoughts. “Y-yeah, yeah let’s go.”

You shoved the plastic orange pumpkin bucket towards him and grabbed your keys off your dresser. You followed behind him as he made his was over to your bedroom door but you couldn’t let yourself feel completely at peace as you took another look behind you.

“What are you doing?” Ji-hwan’s tone was just as judgmental as you expected it to be but you ignored him as you turned back and crossed the room, coming to make sure your curtains were closed completely. You wished the material wasn’t so thin but you supposed it was better than nothing.

After making sure there was in fact no possible way someone was spying on you, you made your way back over to to your brother and practically pushed him out the door.

—

Your eyes trailed over the rattling tree branches, the strong wind was relentless tonight. Your eyes squinted slightly as you stared up at the dark sky, the full moon out completely. You had been to five houses already and only two of them had been worth it. You wondered when people had started to be so stingy with candy but then again your own family wasn’t so generous with treats. You didn’t feel like being a hypocrite tonight so you decided not to comment on it. Halloween was quite strange in general, kids taking candies from complete strangers was accepted on this night only despite the obvious red flags that were presented.

You watched as your little brother held out his pumpkin bucket to the old lady as well as the rest of kids next to him. The house was covered in the usual ‘scary’ decor, filled with spiderwebs on the front porch and a fake skeleton that greeted you at the entrance. It glowed a dark green color when it opened his mouth and your eyes trailed over the giant blow up pumpkins that stood behind the fence.

“Nice,” You muttered at the sight, you shifted your weight to your other leg and you stood awkwardly beside a group of parents next to you. One lady gave you a long side-eye you chose to ignore while the middle-aged man behind you seemed to be taking a good look down your ass, which only made you tug on your jacket around you tighter.

“They had the good kind of chocolates.” Jih-wan exclaimed as he walked back over to you and you didn’t waste any time before you sped off in front of him, itching to get away from the judgmental parents behind you

“Great, can we leave now?” You asked him, eyeing his bucket of candy. It seemed fairly full and you only hoped he had enough so you could tuck him inside his room with some Halloween movies to watch for the restof the night .

“What?! We barely started!” You inwardly cursed, you didn’t feel like stopping at any more houses , the platforms you were wearing were already killing you.

As you continued to walk down the sidewalk, your eyes took in a tall figure walking in the opposite direction. You swallowed as you neared him, he wore a dark mask over his face that only revealed his compelling dark eyes. His sharp eyebrows only added to his intense gaze and your stomach dipped a bit at the sight. The earrings decorating his ears shined , one shaped as cross dangled from his left ear.

When you passed him, he glanced over your way. His stare made shivers run down your spine. You felt his shoulder slightly brushed yours and you were unable to break your gaze from him even after he walked past you. You turned your neck, eyeing the way he made his way down the sidewalk.

Could it be?

You watched as he stopped by the house you had just left, seemingly waiting for someone, a kid you assumed.

A sigh of relief left your lips.

You were really starting to lose it.

Were you really going to start suspecting of every stranger around you? You didn’t even have the slightest idea of what those people in that chat looked like, for all you knew you could of had been chatting with greasy old men.

“Let’s go there!” Your little brother announced, causing you to turn your attention back to him. He was pointing towards a large house at the end of the street and you could already tell this one was giving out some good stuff judging by the extravagant decorations.

“Fine but this is the last house.” You stated sternly, watching as he skipped ahead of you.

You felt your phone go off inside your bag and you went to take it out, pressing on Mina’s notification.

From Mina: Bad news. Just saw Jaehyun making out with the girl from our chemistry course.

You felt your heart sink a little as you read her message. The girl from chem? You thought back trying to remember her name, you knew she was often seen hanging around your crush but you never thought it was anything serious. Well, it wasn’t like them making out at a party entailed there was something serious either but you didn’t want to admit it was probably clear they liked each other.

You had been hopeful but you had seen the way Jaehyun had stolen glances at her in class, not to mention they had always partnered up for projects. From the little you had seen of it, the clues were there.

To Mina: Guess I’m skipping out on the party lol

From Mina: You can still come? Don’t let a guy ruin it for you.

From Mina: but you might want to hurry, I think someone called the cops because some idiots broke out into a fight by the pool

You frowned . That didn’t sound like it was about to be a good time, not to mention you didn’t feel like being stuck in the same space as your crush who was probably planning on getting laid with another girl tonight.

To Mina: Think I’ll pass, have fun though!

—-

“Honestly, I think I should have gone for a deep red shade instead.“

You stared at Mina’s bright blue highlights, inspecting them further. Her hair was in fact vibrant but you didn’t think it looked bad.

You were sitting outside of the college building on of the outdoor benches, your attention span had been worse than usual in your lecture today and to make things worse you had gotten a bad grade on that essay for your sociology class.

“I think it suits you, you can always dye it back when you get sick of it.” You stated as you stared back at the notebook besides you, tapping your pencil against it.

She frowned at your words and let out a sigh.

“That means you hate it.”

“I don’t!” You denied , mouth agape in shock.

She laughs as she runs her fingers through the semi dry strands again.

“It’s okay, I hate it too.” She assures you and you sighed as you shook your head.

“You look hot either way.” You reply as you write down more of your notes, trying your best to keep your usual routine but you had been a bit on edge. The messages had stopped, you hadn’t received any new ones after blocking the number, that relaxed you at least.

“I know,” She smiled and her eyes settled on your face, taking in your expression.

“What’s up? You look kinda worried.”

You didn’t know if you should burden her with your issues, was it even smart to involve her in it? If this was truly a more serious situation involving a possible stalker, you didn’t want to involve anyone else. You had heard horror stories about the dark web, after all that’s all you had been researching for the past week. Alright, maybe Reddit wasn’t the most reliable source but still, all those people couldn’t have been lying, right?

“Ugh,” You whined, “I don’t even know if I should tell you.”

She tilted her head, now seeming more concentrated in what you were about to say.

“What?” She urged, and her eyes widened. “ Are you pregnant?”

Of course Mina’s mind would immediately go that scenario first.

“What? No!” You chuckled at her ridiculous thought. She knew you had broken up with your ex nearly a year ago now , there’s no way you could have been pregnant.

Well, technically there was but you weren’t really the type to hook up casually.

Except if it was Jaehyun that is. But he didn’t seem to pay you any mind these last few days.

“Then what is it? You look scared as hell,” She stressed , leaning forward.

You really did need to confine in somebody already.

“Okay, this is going to sound crazy but I think I may be getting stalked..” You say lowly . Mina’s eyebrows knit together at your words and you elaborate.

“I- I think I may have accessed the dark web somehow.” You add and watch as a stoic expression takes over face before her lips tilt upwards.

“Wait what? What do you mean?” She snorts, shaking her head.

You didn’t even know how to explain this without sounding like an idiot and a lunatic.

“I don’t know, about two weeks ago this really sketchy browser popped up on my screen, I clicked it and it sent me to this weird website, “ You explained.

“There was this super strange video of a girl tied up to a bed by this guy with a mask and I messaged with the people in the chat box.”

Mina’s face went from being skeptical to concerned in a matter of seconds.

“You talked to the people on there ? What did they say?”

You tried to remember their messages to you and how much none of it had made sense, it was as if they were speaking about some type of business deal involving payments.

“I don’t know, it didn’t make much sense. Some of the messages were encrypted.” You shrugged but held your hand up as you brought up the particular message you were concerned about.

“But, there was this one user who talked to me directly and he made a creepy comment about knowing I was in college and said he was looking at me through my webcam.” You confessed, that sounded even worse out loud and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Mina seemed to be processing your words, leaning back a bit before she finally shook her head.

“You probably have a virus, it must of been one of those really kinky role-play websites. “ She dismissed , smirking a bit.

“ I doubt it’s anything serious, there’s no way you could of accessed those nets, you’re pretty bad with technology. “

You grinned at her joke but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of paranoia. She was right, that’s what you had been assuming this whole time but what about that text message that was sent to you? Had it even been related at all? Most likely not.

“Why don’t you let me borrow your laptop?” Mina asked , nodding towards your backpack beside you . “My cousin is a tech nerd and all that shit. He could get rid of the viruses and install some privacy protection stuff.”

“Really?” You asked, staring down at your backpack, you reached over and slowly took out your laptop. “ How much would he charge me?”

Mina scoffed and waved her hand.

“Nothing, he loves doing this type of shit. I’ll just tell him you’re my friend.” She says as she takes the old laptop from your hands.

“Thank you,” You sigh in relief, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders already. “It’s been stressing me out so much.”

Mina rolled her eyes as she gave you a grin from ear to ear, her bangs lifting up from the strong breeze that was starting to pick up around you.

“You worry too much, it’s all good.”

—

You chewed on your granola bar as you depressingly scrolled through your feed on Instagram. A comedy sitcom was playing in the background and you could hear your brother obnoxiously playing some video game down the hall. The usual Sunday night.

Your fingers tapped against your screen, debating whether or not to search the profile you had in mind.

It wouldn’t end well, you knew it. You were almost positive you would find something on Jaehyun’s page that would crush you. You had a feeling that girl would be on there and it was petty but you couldn’t hide the burning jealousy inside you.

It was a simple crush, you knew that but one of your many flaws was how much you spent idolizing your crushes and thinking they were a lot more special than they actually were.

Despite that you still went against your better judgement and started searching his username.

You frowned as his profile didn’t come up on the search bar.

You bit your lip and as you went back to your profile and searched through your following list but you didn’t see his profile there either.

Did he..?

No.

Why would he do that? You two were fairly friendly with each other, there wouldn’t be a reason why he would block you.

You felt embarrassment creep up, had you done something unknowingly?

You groaned, trying to think about every possible reason he could of just randomly blocked you for but Jaehyun didn’t seem like the type to do that. I mean, you didn’t know him that well but he always seemed too chill for any sort of mindless drama.

The sound of a notification buzzed through your phone and it pulled you out of your deep pondering.

You clicked on the text message.

From Unknown Number: You should start going for people who actually like you baby girl

From Unknown Number: And a History major? What a bore and a pretentious douche

Your mouth hung open at the messages.

Was this the same person from last time? Who was this?

It had to be someone you went to college with, how else would they have known Jaehyun was a history major?

You were about to reply to the message but your phone buzzed again in the midst of typing your text .

From Unknown Number: Btw, you might want to lock your bedroom window. It’s quite rickety.

From Unknown Number: I do like your curtains though, floral right? Suits you

You felt your heart sinking further with every text.

No way this was happening to you.

You tossed your phone aside and bolted towards your bedroom, making your way down the small hallway . The door of your bedroom slammed the wall by how hard you had swung it open. You ran towards your window , hands shaking as you tightened the old lock. You pressed down on it more with your thumb and hissed as you finally heard the ‘click’.

You stared out the window, eyes inspecting every single detail outside your building. There didn’t seem to be anyone , and you watched the traffic driving on the intersection a few feet away. Your gaze fell on a few people walking down the sidewalk but they quickly passed by, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

That was until you caught sight of what was beneath the street light ahead of you. There was a hooded figure, you couldn’t make them out completely but judging from their build and height, everything pointed towards a male.

At first you suspected it was just a random person out for a smoke or waiting for the bus but then you realized the bus stop wasn’t until a few more blocks down.

It was unlikely.

But it wasn’t, none of it was unlikely after what you had just read.

You watched as the man lifted up his hand, sending a slow wave your way.

This was no coincidence anymore.

You stared at his almost calculated movements, you couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t make out his face at all. It was just a dark shadow, only slightly illuminated by the orange dim light of the street lamp he stood underneath.

It made it all more terrifying.

You shut your curtains harshly and stepped back.

What had you gotten yourself into?

—-

Someone was following you.

You were sure of it.

Yet you couldn’t let yourself look behind you.

They had began following you since you had left work, once you were out of the parking lot and had made your way to the sidewalk. You had noticed someone, a tall someone with all dark attire lingering behind you as you crossed the busy street.

When you had turned , they had also turned. You had started picking up your pace, testing to see if they would also but they didn’t. They followed slowly , distractingly almost.

You had been walking for a good 10 minutes and they still had not got in another direction, no matter how many corners you had turned. You decided to take another route to your house, a longer one.

You weren’t sure if you should even head home to begin with, you always heard you weren’t meant to walk straight to your house if you were being followed.

But what if this was the same person who had been standing outside your window the other day? The one who had been practically harassing you with vague and disturbing text messages of your private life.

You had told Mina about them, calling her immediately after the incident but she had told you to relax and that it must’ve of been some douchebag from one of your classes messing with you. She had stressed that it had to be someone that you knew, even in passing and had gone to school with.

However, this wasn’t middle school and whoever was messing with you had a disturbing way of showing interest. You didn’t buy it for a second. The intentions were malicious, what sane person would play those types of games ? You knew college guys were immature but this was too severe. It was downright creepy and invasive.

You insisted that it couldn’t be just be an innocent joke to Mina but she had told you she would help you resolve it when she got back from her trip next week and even accompany you to the police station.

You had debated contacting the authorities right away but you were scared, you didn’t want to burden your family with more stress than they already had. It almost seemed pathetic to you, your father battling cancer and your worn out mother trying her best to take care of him while struggling with the financial situation you all were in. Her daughter being stalked would just be the cherry on top.

Now you were regretting that decision.

You decided to take your chances and take a quick glance behind you, the person was still a good distance from you but they had gotten closer.

The sun was going down, and you knew that was a clear warning sign you needed to hurry up and get home.

You quickened your pace again, staring down at your shoes in determination. Your apartment was only a few blocks away now.

You took another look behind you.

The person was walking faster.

Closer.

You felt your heart begin to race, you turned a corner , walking down the familiar street you always took home.

Of course the person also turned and they were right on your tracks.

Fuck.

You could hear them behind you now, their footsteps getting louder. This only encouraged you to pick up your pace even more, you were jogging now.

It was clear you were trying to put as much distance as possible between the person and any other normal pedestrian would of taken notice of this and slowed down or stopped completely. Even turning another way.

But no, the person behind you kept that same steady pace. They were speed walking towards you.

You cursed as you heard them almost right behind you.

They were coming to get you.

You were going to die.

You turned down the last street, finally seeing your apartment building a few feet away .

That’s when it stopped.

The footsteps stopped abruptly.

You turned, slowing down as you saw the person continue to walk straight ahead. In completely different direction from you, quickly disappearing ahead behind the tall fences of the surrounding houses.

You breathed heavily, looking around you.

Had you really been that paranoid?

You still felt shaken up and you wondered if this was just a set up, what if they rounded the corner and came back to run up on you ?

With that you took off, practically full on running towards your apartment now. Your legs flew up the metal staircase , hurriedly putting your key in the lock and shutting the door behind you.

You closed your eyes briefly as you leaned back against your front door.

The apartment was quiet, signaling your parents and your brother weren’t home.

The sudden knocking that followed made you jump forward.

You turned around, eyeing the door as the knocking continued then stopped. You swallowed as you took a cautious step forward, taking out your phone in the process.

You had 911 ready on speed dial as you leaned forward and took a look through the peep hole of the door.

It was a guy, he wore a black cap that covered his messy dark locks. He lifted up his head, displaying his face. Handsome features stared back at you, and your eyes trailed downwards, noticing he was holding a familiar looking laptop in his hands.

“Shit,” You mumbled as you put your phone back in your pocket and unlocked your door, swinging it open.

He looked a little startled by the action, taking a step back before he gave you a small nod in acknowledgment.

“Hey, are you Y/n?” He questions uncertainly , raising an eyebrow at you. He holds up the laptop in his hands. “ I’m Mina’s cousin, she told me to drop this off .”

“Uh yeah, sorry I wasn’t expecting anyone.” You admitted, your heart rate slowly normalizing now.

“It’s alright,” His lips tilt up, as if finding your skittish state amusing before he hands the laptop over to you.

“ You had a couple of viruses, I got rid of them and I installed some ad blockers along with some privacy protection.”

You took your laptop and nodded, your gaze studying him. He was undeniably attractive. You noticed he had an eyebrow piercing along with a lip one, the ring shining against the side of his mouth.

He also had a few earrings on both of his ears, one in particular stood out. It was a cross, dangling from his left lobe.

That earring, where had you seen it before?

“Thank you so much,” You gave him a grateful smile, tapping your fingers against the laptop.

“I honestly don’t even know how I got those viruses.” You wondered with a frown.

“Well, it’s easy to get them, downloading unknown stuff, clicking on ads..” He informed you with a tilt of his head.

“Porn even…” He finished with a sheepish smile and your cheeks warmed at his implication.

You were going to kill your brother.

“I-I don’t, I mean I don’t usuall-“ You stumbled over your words.

“ I have a little brother.” You blurted out finally and watch an understanding look cross his face. “ Preteens, you know?”

“Definitely, been there.” He nods with a tight lipped smile.

This was far more awkward than you had intended it to be.

“I also downloaded a few updates, hope you don’t mind. It should make it work better since it is an old model.” He added, biting his lip.

“I appreciate it. “ You stepped back, holding the side of the door. “ Mina told me you wouldn’t charge me but I feel bad.”

“I only cleaned your laptop, it’s really nothing at all. Took a few minutes.” He assures you with a shrug.

Oh.

“I’m really clueless when it comes to technology, sorry.” You felt pretty dumb for not knowing the basic ins and outs of your own laptop but to be fair, the outdated device always worked so slow that you didn’t bother much with it besides to do schoolwork.

He smirks at that.

“It’s alright, we all have our specialties I guess.” He turns his head before he takes a step back. “ I better get going.”

You nod as he turns to leave and you’re about to close the door before you remember something. You pop your head back out.

“Wait!” He turns his head slowly at the sound of your voice, his hands gripping the top of the metal staircase.

“Sorry, I forgot to ask for your name?”

His eyes bore into you, licking his bottom lip before he drawls out.

“Jungkook.”

“Thanks again, Jungkook.” You smile before shutting the door and taking out your phone quickly.

To Mina: Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot piece of ass for a cousin

—-

Thankfully your laptop had been working better now, faster even and you assumed it had to do with some of the updates Mina’s cousin had mentioned.

You had to admit it was more stress relieving to work on it now that you were sure nobody was spying on you through the webcam and didn’t need to place a sticky note over the camera.

That software had not popped up again, no ads at all even. You couldn’t thank Jungkook enough.

The smell of something burning hit your nostrils and your gaze fell on the pot on the stove, you could see the bubbling soup was spilling out from the sides and spreading all over from your seat on the couch.

You hissed as you ran to shut it off and moved the pot to the side, the towel you had gotten to grab it wasn’t enough to not burn you in the process.

Your mother emerged from the hallway with a startled look on her face.

“Oh god,” She sighed as she came to grab the towel from your hands to wipe off the mess on the stove.

“I must’ve fell asleep, your dad wanted me to make him some soup..” She said and you could see the eye bags on her wrinkled face.

You knew your mom had fallen into a negative state ever since you’re father was diagnosed with the terminal illness but it was hard to see her actually worried for him. They had spent nearly your entire childhood fighting and insulting each other, you couldn’t remember the last time they had even been neutral with each other.

But now, she had even tried to cook for him? You almost wanted to tell her he didn’t deserve that but you kept your mouth shut. He was still your dad after all, no amount of bad mouthing was gonna change that.

“Mom its fine but don’t leave stuff cooking while you nap, you’re gonna burn down this apartment.” You sighed.

“Where even is dad?” You question, noticing you had not seen him all day.

“The pharmacy, he’s picking up some prescriptions .” She replied as she waved the towel around the smoke that still lingered in the air . You were wondering why the fire alarm hadn’t went off but most things in the apartment didn’t work accordingly.

“Oh by the way, that package came for you earlier while you were out.” Your mom pointed to the side and you followed her gaze, a square package was placed on the kitchen table.

A package?

You didn’t remember ordering anything.

“Y/n , you better not be wasting money online. You know we are in a tough situation right now.” Your mother scolded behind you.

The fact that she needed to remind you of the amount of medical bills we still had to pay was insulting. You were well aware of the situation, your entire paycheck was always handed to your parents.

“I’m not.” You snapped, unable to keep your attitude from slipping out.

Your fingers tugged on the seal, ripping open the package and you held in a gasp at what was inside.

It was a necklace, you took the delicate material into your fingers, eyeing it.

Wait.

The necklace looked familiar and it took a few seconds for it to register in your brain.

It had been the same necklace you had been looking at online the other day, it was from a small business and you had visited their site a couple of times before but this necklace had caught your attention.

The price had been way out of your budget and you had not planned on actually buying it, if anything you had been checking to see if they would be some miracle lower the price or have a discount available.

You eyed the sapphire jewel, it was as beautiful and dainty as it had appeared on the website.

But you had not purchased it, so who did?

Your mind automatically went to Mina but you wondered how your friend would of even known you had been looking at this specific necklace. Not to mention your birthday was still a few months away.

The package was still in your hand so your eyes searched through it, looking for some type of note.

There was indeed something inside but it was not a note, instead a red long envelope was placed inside.

You picked it up and noticed there was no writing on the outside so you immediately tore it open and reached inside.

What the fuck.

You let out a shaky breath and swore your heart stopped completely at the sight of what was in your hands.

They were pictures.

Pictures of you.

It was you sleeping in your bed s and the angle of the picture suggested it was taken from someone hovering over you. They had zoomed in on your neckline.

Your fingers trembled as you looked through more of the pictures, there all practically the same. Just you sleeping, blissfully unaware that someone had taken a picture of you. You were wearing a different shirt in each picture, meaning they had been taking on different days.

“What’s in the package?” The curious tone coming from your mother hit your ears and it took everything not to turn to face her.

“N-nothing, just a book.”

—-

You practically stormed Mina’s house, shoving right past her when she opened the door, not bothering to even ask if you could come in. You were in far too much of a panicked state.

She must of been so caught off guard, you hadn’t even bothered calling her before you came.

“This is bad, this is so bad.” Your hands trembled as you paced back and forth in her living room. You heard her shut the door and rush over to you, gripping your shoulders.

“Y/n! Wait what’s going on?” She demanded, staring at you frantically as she tried to get you to focus on her.

You handed her the pictures in your hands, your breaths had not steadied at all. Your entire body was quivering uncontrollably and your eyes were bloodshot and burning from all the crying.

You watched as she studied the pictures carefully, going through them.

“Someone has been in my room.”

They had been standing there. Taking pictures of you while you slept unknowingly. You shuddered at the image, you didn’t even want to think about it. The thought of a stranger watching you like that, it filled you with complete disgust, you felt so incredibly exposed.

“Oh my god..” Mina whispered, looking back up at you with wide eyes.

You tugged on your hair in exasperation.

“We need to go to the authorities, whoever is doing this is insane!” More tears fell down your face and you hiccuped between sobs.

“They could be planning something! What if they want to murder me?” You cried out, the idea wasn’t too far fetched at all.

This person was clearly disturbed. Who was to say their next step didn’t involve slicing your body up? Choking you in your sleep?

“Okay, okay calm down.” Mina nodded as she gripped the pictures and tugged on your arm, leading you through the hallway that connected to her kitchen.

“You need get yourself together first, it’s gonna be okay.” She comforted you as you took a seat down at the table.

You couldn’t even focus on what she was saying but you watched as she took a mug from the pantry and started putting water into a kettle on the stove.

“I can’t! This person has been watching me for weeks, Mina.”

You recalled back to that instance in the window, those texts and the pictures.

It was all connected. It had to be.

“They’ve been in my room, in my house.” You rambled on as you let another cry of distress.

“Oh my god, my family is in danger too.”

The thought of them possibly being in any sort of danger right in this moment made you feel sick to your stomach. You needed to tell them, it had been so idiotic of you to try and keep it from them, this wasn’t only about you now.

Mina takes a deep breath before she walks behind you. You hear her shuffling, looking for something you assume. Tea bags, maybe.

“Do your parents know you’re here?”

You shook your head wordlessly, your hands rubbing over your face.

“No,” You reply back and furrow your eyebrows as you thought over her question, had you heard her correctly?

“Why would that matt-“

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You hear Mina say behind you before you feel an excruciating pain in your head. You stumble out of the chair and hit the floor, your vision immediately going blurry.

You feel the cold tiles against your cheeks, your head felt numb, like it was buzzing.

You groan, blinking rapidly in an attempt to recover your vision but the blow to your head was too severe. You could feel your body giving out, and soon your surroundings disappear completely.

—-

“Why the fuck did you knock her out?”

“Relax, she will be fine.”

“I gave you the damn tea for a reason.”

“I panicked, okay! I thought she might’ve run off before I had the chance to give it to her.”

“If she’s seriously hurt, you’re fucking dead”

“This is all your faul-“

“Shut up! She’s waking up..”

The voices sounded so muffled to your ears, you could barely make out what they were saying.

It felt like you were spinning and your head was throbbing. Your eyelids slowly blinked, trying to adjust but it took you a while to clearly see anything.

You lifted yourself up, letting out a pained cry when another shot of pain hit your head.

“Shit, I’m sorry baby.” You heard a voice say beside you as you felt something being pressed behind your head. “ I know it hurts.”

Your eyes slowly met the figure, you squinted as you made out his features.

“J-Jungkook?” You croaked, trying to put the pieces together.

What the hell was Mina’s cousin doing here?

Mina.

“Where’s Mina? What happened?” You try to lift yourself up more, noticing you were laying on a bed but that’s when you felt the restraints. Your eyes fell on your wrists, taking note of the right ropes tied around them.

Both your hands were confined to the bed frame.

“W-what is this,” You swallowed, you were still so incredibly disoriented and it was so hard for you to take in what was happening. Your brain seemed to be working in slow motion.

“Stay still,” Jungkook ordered, and that’s when you see he’s holding up an ice pack to your head. Blood was coating it.

“What the fuck happened?” Your lips trembled, your stomach sinking as you tugged on your wrists more.

“Why am I tied up?”

He ignored you.

You stare at him, he was wearing a simple dark hoodie, exactly like the one he had on that day he stopped by your apartment. Your eyes fell on that damn dangly cross earring of his.

That earring.

It finally clicked. The memory of the guy you had scene walking past you on Halloween night.

“You…” You began but something else caught your attention.

You turned your head, taking in your surroundings. You were in a large dark room, there was a bunch of PC’s in front of you. The monitors were widely spread against a long table. The lights of the keyboards blinked against the dimly lit area, there was headsets everywhere, tripods, cameras, tablets. It was filled with all types of devices.

You flinch as Jungkook’s presses the ice pack harder against your skull.

One monitor in the middle was displaying some footage that made you freeze. Your eyes watched as the camera zoomed in on a girl, she was undressing herself. She walked towards her closet, looking through more of her clothes before she stood in front of a mirror to try them on.

The girl was you.

“What the fuck!” You yelled as you pulled yourself away from the man beside you. You had to be dreaming right now.

“What is that!?” You point towards the monitors, your arm only going up so far due to the ropes holding you back.

Jungkook sighed , dark eyes staring into you.

“You.” He replied with a casual tone.

This couldn’t be real. Where the hell was Mina?

“You sick fuck!” You shouted at him, a look of pure disgust on your face. “ Where the fuck is Mina!?”

“Did you do something to her?”

He scoffed.

“You really are too innocent,” He states, narrowing his eyes. “ Mina was the one that smashed your skull with a vase, baby.”

Your body chills at his words.

No.

“What?” You whisper, backing away further into bed. The walls around you were made out of bricks, there was no windows in sight and your eyes searched for the door but you didn’t see one around you.

You jolted as you heard the sound of metal screeching above you. Looking up, you saw a part of the ceiling that was outlined in the shape of a square. It opened, and a staircase unwrapped itself from the top, hitting the ground roughly.

You saw as someone started to climb down and you caught sight of the familiar white sneakers and blue highlights as they fully descended from the steps.

“Mina!” You called out, leaning forward but you hissed at the thick material around your wrists tugging you back once again.

“You’re hurting yourself.” Jungkook reprimanded , pushing you back against the bed frame again.

Mina slowly walked towards you, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Mina! Help me! What the fuck is going on!?” You screamed, widening your eyes at her but she stood there, watching you.

Not moving an inch towards you.

“Why are you just standing there!?” You sobbed, the ugly realization settling in but you were in denial.

This didn’t make any sense, this room or whatever it was. All these computers, these devices, it was all mortifying. The more you observed them, the more you saw every possible detail about your life on them.

Diagrams and blueprints of your entire apartment complex, a map the entire city with pinpoints leading to your address, your workplace, even the local coffee shop you always stopped by.

It even showed your little brother’s school, your parents workplace, their pictures stared back at you.

Everything. They had every aspect of your life on those screens.

Had Mina known about all of this? About what her cousin had been doing?

“I’m sorry.” She said, her eyes were blank and this wasn’t your friend. This wasn’t the Mina you had known for years .

“How long?” You demanded, not even sure you wanted to know the answer. The pain on the back of your head felt worse with every movement you made, making your entire head feel heavy.

“You shouldn’t have responded to that chat, Y/n” Mina shook her head, disappointingly at you. “ How could you be so stupid?”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you had not talked to the chat!” She snapped , clearly fed up with you and the entire situation. She seemed so fidgety and her eyes watered as she stared at you.

Jungkook watched his cousin with an almost thoughtful expression on his face as his lips twitched.

“Wow,” He drawled out, voice dropping a few octaves. “You’re an even better actor than me.”

Mina’s eyes slowly met his, glaring at him.

“Why do you even bother with it anymore, little cousin?” Jungkook shook his head, turning to face you now and his thumb smoothed over your cheek, wiping away some of the tears.

“She’s never leaving.”

His words cut through you and you felt the rising panic return to you, you let out a breathless laugh .

“You’re crazy,” You told them, your eyes darting between him and your friend, or used to be friend. “Both of you! Why are you doing this? Why me!?”

“Jungkook always get what he wants.” Mina shrugged, taking a step towards the monitors . There was resentment in her tone, at least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“And he wanted you.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t help,” Jungkook replied to her , not bother to even glance her way as his eyes took in your face , observing you too closely.

They were demented.

These people were criminals.

You watched as she handed Jungkook a phone and he lifted himself off the bed.

“Why are you letting him do this!” You tugged on your restraints again, fighting against the ropes that just wouldn’t budge.

“He’s family.” Mina replied , as if it was the most obvious justification to exist . She took a step back, facing the monitors completely as she typed something on the keyboard.

“I’m sorry you for the blow to your head baby girl, my cousin is quite reckless.” Jungkook sighed, still eyeing the side of your head before a smile met his lips.

“But you look so pretty regardless, I can’t believe you’re finally all mine.” He stated, eyes trailing slowly over your figure and you felt a wave of disgust wash over you at his action.

“ You know the cops will come looking for me right? You guys are fucking insane!”

“Shh, don’t struggle so much unless you want to pass out again .” Jungkook almost cooed , clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“They aren’t going to find you, Y/n.” Mina broke the news to you with a straight face.

“They aren’t many traces of you, your laptop has been completely wiped out, we have your phone. The most they will do is create a search party for you, looking for your body in the nearby woods, “ Jungkook interjected , rolling his eyes. “ Like the idiots they are..”

“Then they will investigate my cousin here, your family and maybe the couple of people you knew at college. But they won’t find anything, you’ll just be another cold case. After all, how many other young women don’t go missing on the daily, baby girl?” Jungkook said , you could hear the slight condescending tone.

You had started to sob again in the midst of his cynical explanation.

“Jungkook.” Mina warned, urging him to stop.

You couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing your family again. Your mother, your little brother and even your father who you had thought you didn’t care much about anymore but at this moment all you wanted to do was see him.

He was ill, he would pass before you ever got out of here.

If you ever managed to.

“It’s better for her to start getting used to the idea,” Jungkook gave his cousin another biting glare. “ and don’t involve yourself in this anymore, I don’t need your input.”

Mina cowered at the look he was giving her, immediately going silent and backing away.

You watched as Jungkook slowly brought the camera up to your face, then angled it towards your entire frame, recording your entire body.

Then, he reached to pull out something behind him.

“We’re live.”

Mina’s voice made you bring your attention back to her but she refused to meet your gaze, staring towards the monitors instead.

You looked back at Jungkook, finally realizing what was in his hands.

A white mask.

A Vendetta mask.

You shook as he placed it over his face, stepping closer towards you as you stared directly at the lenses of the phone camera.

The scene was all too familiar.

All you could do was scream.

—-

[carpenoctxrn]

Doctor. Doctor. (Spencer Reid x FemReader)

Chapter 2: The Revelation

Chapter 1 is here

Hey guys join my taglist so you dont miss any of my works!

Warning: Masturbation. No Penetration just clitorial. Threesome but not with reader. Degradation not of reader. Praising but not of reader. Cussing. Watching porn.

P.O.V Y/N

Yawning I woke up to the annoying noise of my alarm on my phone. It read 2:03pm. Slowly I got up and began cleaning my mess from last night. Thankfully I had zero dishes to do and decided on just vacuuming my house and folding the blanket before I went to clean myself up.

Looking at the time now it read 3pm, continuing on with the series from last night I finished my chores and decided on a good shave of my legs. 

Running inside my bathroom I turned on the hot water and decided to draw myself a bath. I poured in Margot Elena’s blend of Dark Vanilla, ambers, and Bergamot bubble bath solution, into my bathtub. The hot water seemed to have activated the aroma and it made me roll my eyes back in pleasure. 

Grabbing my exfoliator and hair removing cream I asked Alexa to dim the bathroom lights for a sunset ambience. At the last minute I turned off the T.V and searched for my phone to take to the bathtub with me. 

Entering the warm bath filled to the brim with bubbles I felt excited. A familiar sense of excitement entered me. The kind that got your heart beating a bit louder and a certain region swelled for release. 

It has been a while.

My thoughts rangout only to be shot down by another.

3 days isn’t a while.

“It is if I’m a mildly nymphomaniac whore,” I spoke against the thought.

Grabbing my phone, my hands went to the familiar website that aided me during these times. It belonged to an anonymous man. His page was filled with audios that catered to my taste.

A dominant man who's drunk from just the sight of you, and you only. His addiction with you only fuels his ferocity as he inches deep within you. Using you. Caressing you. Fucking you.

His voice was average and wimpey at first but it would always change as he got deeper into the audio or video. His videos were beyond squirt worthy. 

He wore a mask but he would have various different women within the video that would become submissive to him. His body would be adorned by a suit or formal attire. The only skin he showed was his majestic hand at times as it was pushing itself deep within a woman's opening….either of the three openings. And his brown curly tousled hair that he would flick out from in front of an all black plastic mask.

His name was Doctor. 

That’s it.

His mystique filled anonymous persona drew me in, but his ability to fuck like the man of my dreams made me stay. 

A new audio has been uploaded. 20 minutes long. I knew that I wouldn’t last even ten minutes but rubbing myself in the tub was a new territory, so who knows. 

A woman with vibrant white hair was suspended from the ceiling in a hogtie position but reversed. Her black skin was showered with red candle wax. Whilst another woman with vibrant green hair had her hand and legs tied to a chair with her pussy exposed. Her mouth was at the perfect height to eat the other woman out. The green haired woman had hickies littered all around her white skin. 

Noticing the string that came out of the tied woman’s pussy I could see she had squirted already multiple times.

“Start licking Ivy, Start licking if you want to cum” Said a voice from behind Ivy Addict the pornstar I recognized now. 

“Yes Doctor,” She whimpered as she began slowly drawing circles on the pink haired pornstar whose name is Pinkstar.

The sight before made me aroused. I began envisioning myself as both Ivy and Pink. The duality of my position gave me power but also submission. It was my perfect mix. My left hand was gripping the phone while my right hand was running small circles around my nub. Not giving it too much attention but just enough to keep it excited.

“That's a good girl,” Doctor said as he turned on a remote that made Ivy involuntarily twitch forward and moan at the sensation.

“Aughh,” sounded Pink “Bite me again Ivy, please bite me,” begged pink. 

This resulted in a slap on her pussy by the Doctor’s whip. She moaned at his sadistic gesture and she ogled at him with sex haze clouding her eyes. 

“I’m in charge Pink,” He said as he whipped her again. 

“Say my name,” He said as he whipped her again. Pink yelped at the pain caused by the repetition of Doctor’s actions.

“And just for that” the Doctor spoke as he traced his hands across Pinks pussy, moving it up her stomach, up her breast, up her neck, and stopping at her lips, “I will fuck her make you beg for the same pleasure as her,” his voice spoke. Dripping with the power he knew he had over these two women.

“No Doctor. Please fuck me please please please,” she continued to beg as the Doctor moved her pussy away from Ivy’s mouth and positioned her to see the Doctor and Ivy fuck.

“Before I have my way, I have to add on to your punishment Pink,” He said as he stepped forward to Ivy.

Ivy was looking up at him with the same sex haze Pink had. The Doctor's fingers entered Ivy’s mouth and he asked her “Good Ivy. how does she taste?”

“Like a whore,” degraded Ivy.

“Yes! Yes! I’m a whore please fuck me like a whore I am. Please, Doctor. Please fuck me. Please fuck me while I suck her clit,” Droned and begged Pink. 

The Doctor ignored her and reached down to Ivy’s pussy to pull out the viberator. It was slicked in her juices. 

He turned around and placed the 5 inch bullet viberator inside Pink’s mouth. 

“Keep it warm for her,” He spat in a degrading manner to Pink. I could see her eyes involuntarily turn back from his words. 

As he was degrading Pink, my fingers applied a bit more pressure to my clit. My hips began to move slowly at the pleasure that spread through my pussy. I was excited at the thought of being degraded like Pink but also being praised like Ivy. My eyebrows were furrowed as I closed my eyes and began to focus on the noise.

As the Doctor entered Ivy she let out a moan. 

“Oh Doctor, you feel so good, oh so good-Ah” she said as I heard the Doctor begin to pound harder and faster.

The rhythm of his pace and the noises she made allowed my fingers to move faster. To press harder. My high was approaching. Which was evident by the arch of my back against the cold tub. The water around me moved as my hands did.

“Oh Doctor, please don't stop. Please don't stop. Fuck me like this doctor. Fuck me like the good girl I am Doctor,” Ivy begged as the Doctor continued his brutal pace.

Opening my eyes I saw that the Doctor had released Ivy from her confinements to the chair. He positioned the chair so she could use the head part of it for support against his brutal pace. Her green hair was in the grasps of Doctor as he was fucking her ruthlessly. 

Pink watched, suspended from the air. She was still and her pussy was dripping. 

“Watch me while I fuck her,” Doctor said as he put a hand across Ivy’s mouth to quiet her down. And the other hand gripped the chair in front of her. 

“Let me tell you how she feels so you can try to make me feel an ounce like that,” His words echoed in the warehouse that he filmed his video in.

“Her pussy clenches around me everytime I push in. She is so wet and soft that I can hear every movement I make,” He spoke as he slowed down his pace a little. 

“Her little pussy, can’t even take all of me in, I doubt any of you can, But she’s trying her best. Aren’t you Ivy?” He said as he moved her hair to the side to allow his words to hit her physically as well as mentally. She shook her head yes frantically as her hands were groping her tits.

Oh suddenly I lost it. I went crazy at the sight, at the idea, at the thought of being praised so sweetly like that. My hips lifted off the tub and the water sloshed around me. In the background I could hear that the Doctor began pounding into Ivy at a brutal pace. But only his groan was obvious to my ears and the ones that quietly left my mouth.

I began to rub myself faster and harder. I could myself become wetter and it wasn't because of the water I was in, it was my own secretions. My own evident sign that I was about to convulse from the sensation of my fingers and the sounds around me.

I opened my eyes and I felt it swelled with tears. I turned to look at the Doctor. I focused solely on him, his breathing, his hands, and the rhythm he kept up. My fingers mimicked his rhythm. 

The fast and hard pace continued on for a minute. A minute filled with ecstasy, heat, and pleasure that was numbing my mind. My mouth open with drool spilling from the side of my mouth. My breath was heavy and tears formed in my eyes from the pleasure. 

“Oh fucking god,” I said as I felt my clit release a familair sensation. It heated up my stomach and made me suck in a deep breath as I closed my eyes. The tears that had formed now escape my eyes as I begin squeezing my eyes harder. I continue to rub my clit. Enjoying the slight sting of over sensitivity.

Drawing in a deep breathe a small sex induced smile adorned my face. Clearing the tabs out of my browser on my phone I turned on netflix and played Monkey King.

I took the exfoliator and began scrubbing my body away from the dead skin cells that had formed. About twenty or so minutes I felt confident in my scrubbing and stood up to drain the tub. I turned on the shower and began washing away the dead skin cells. 

I grabbed my shea butter infused with hydrochloric acid body wash and lattered it all over my body. 

Washing my hair with my sage and warm vanilla infused shampoo, I washed my body and hair off the suds. Then I added my conditioner that mimicked the same scent as my shampoo. 

Deciding to use the hair removing cream for a smoother and silkier feel of my skin, I slathered it on and waited a few minutes before washing it off. I also used the bikini area removing cream for my regions that were just convulsing minutes ago.

After another 30 minutes I was done with my shower and my newly hairless leg was sensitive to everything that rubbed against it. And so was my pussy. 

Wrapping a towel around my body and my hair in a silk towel, I headed to the closet in my room. Opening up the door for my Walk in closet I felt something tight would be perfect. 

Going to my collection of body con dresses I grabbed a black long sleeve dress. The back was in a deep v shape and the front was a square neckline. A slit was obvious on the right side of my leg. It would go up higher from my thigh but due to my height it stayed till my mid thigh. 

It would pair perfectly with my silver heels, diamond earrings and diamond necklace that sat close enough to my throat for it to be mistaken as a choker. 

Lathering my body with an unscented lotion by aveeno that had lactic acid I went back to my bathroom. Realising I had yet to brush and to do my skincare routine. Quickly doing so, I grabbed my phone and saw the time that read 4:30pm as I made my way back inside my room.

With my face moisturised and my body clean a sudden feeling of hunger came upon me. My stomach growling from the emptiness. I didn't want to eat a lot as I knew that there would be food available at the gathering, so I decided on ordering soup from the local Thai place. Since it was a Thursday I knew the delivery man that would be working is a Cambodian bodybuilder named Alex.

He was a delicious treat to look at, his voice was menacingly husky whilst his face adorned a dimple that was seductive whenever he spoke or smiled to me. Calling the restaurant I was greeted by a woman. Asking for a Thai sweet and sour aka tom yum soup with chicken and carrots and onions only, she recognized my name and I didn’t need to give any further information.

I’m a whore for great food and eye candy. 

Knowing I had twenty minutes to get ready before my order came, and I would have to leave my house around 6:50pm to make it to the party at 7:30pm, I decided to wear something else.

Bit more revealing and seductive I decided to wear a tight silk lace up body con dress. The tightness of it would rub against my nipples, making them stand from the luxury my skin was experiencing. Deciding on not wearing a bra or panties I felt very naughty at the idea I was presenting. 

If I do fuck this dude then eating out there would be really weird. And I genuinely don’t see this relationship growing into something more. 

I guess in reality I just want to be a piece of menace that taunts men by showing my interest in them but forbidding them from pursuing it. 

In my own train of thoughts the doorbell rang and I saw the time. It had been 15 minutes since I last placed the order. It takes 8 minutes to drive here and another 2 minutes to get to my apartment since it is the last one amongst the corridor on the third floor. So in Five minutes they had my order prepared. 

Putting on a spritz of perfume and tousling my hair a bit I looked at myself in the mirror. All I was missing was a bit of pink lip liner overlining my lips to make them look pouty. Whilst a dash of blush on my cheeks to make me look like I am getting ready to go somewhere but also as if I am coming back from somewhere. 

The doorbell rang again and I walked briskly to the door. With excitement I opened my door. Ready to see the shocked look on Alex’s face. Only for me to have a shocked look adorning my face. 

“Ummm…..Hi…my umm…my name is Dr. Spencer Reid and I’m your neighbour,” A tall figure said as he was awkwardly looking at me. 

I felt embarrassment wash over me as I came to senses with the reality in front of me. My face was visibly turning red and I had to hold on to the door for support as my knees felt weak.

“Hi. How can I help you?” I asked with a smile as I realised I was slowly losing my breath due to the embarrassment I was feeling. 

“Oh um well I know Lisa Douglas. Doctor Lisa Douglas.” He explained as he moved a bit closer to my door. 

“Oh that's great!” I said faking enthusiasm as in all honesty I had no idea why this man was mentioning such facts right now. 

“I work with Luke Alvez,” He said, hoping to make sense of what he was mentioning. 

“Oh that makes sense” I said as a familiar feeling of calmness and intrigue washed over me. “Wait, does he know where I live?” I asked with a puzzled look on my face. 

“Oh no. He just mentioned that Lisa asked you to be present at the party. And he also mentioned that you were going as Phil’s date since you only know him besides Lisa. And I realised that your name sounded familiar so I asked our technical analyst to check to see if you were the correct Dr. Y/N Monterey that lived in my building. She confirmed and I decided to introduce myself to you so you would know someone on the team.” He said rambling. The entire time he held eye contact with me.

The only thing I could do was smile and nod, whilst my thought rang out shouting “you're talking to a strange men with no bra and panties. With no bra and panties. With no bra and panties.” 

“That is so sweet of you Dr. Reid,” I said smiling genuinely at his actions. An awkward silence dawned over our interaction and I took that as a sign to invite him in. 

“Would you like to-” my words cut off from the loud ding of the elevator followed by the horrible metal sound of the door opening. It drew our attention away from each other.

The elevator door opened to reveal Alex holding my order whilst wearing nothing but his skinny jeans and his tight shirt. His tattoo showed off on his left arm. A smug smile on his face as his eyes made contact with mine. 

“Doctor, Doctor, Doctors…” Said Alex as he made his way towards us. 

“So I guess all the doctors know each other,” Alex spoke as he looked between me and Dr. Reid.

“Of Course we do,” I spoke with a sassiness lacing my voice as I felt confident in knowing my intended audience for the look I had on was finally here. He couldn’t see me entirely, just my head.

“Oh really! And why is- is - is that?!” He exclaimed as I slowly came into his view. His eyes were lingering on the open flesh of my hips and the side view of my breasts. Not to mention the front view as well. 

“Isn’t it obvious by now Alex?” I questioned whilst shaking my head to exaggerate the “obviousness” and also the way my boobs moved and how my mouth pouted with a look of fake innocence over my eyes.

“So we know which soup gives us more stamina,” I said, hinting at something not so innocent. The wide look on Alex’s eyes and the confused look on Dr. Reid's face made me giggle.  

“For all nighters and all. Right Dr. Reid?” I said completely avoiding the true intentions of my word. 

“I guess?” He said as he looked at me. 

“Here is your soup,” Alex said and I handed him a twenty and told him the change was his tip.

“Your very sweet Dr. Y/N,” Alex said as he bowed before turning around to leave but not until he said bye to Dr. Reid.

“Would you like to come in now, Dr. Reid?” I said whilst gesturing to the soup in my hand.

“No, no I’ll let you be. I have some things to do before the party. So I guess I’ll see you there at 7:30pm.” He said, nodding his head and waving a quick bye as he stretched his thin lip into a smile.

Waving a bye back I closed my door and just breathed in for a minute. The interaction was uneventful but not everything could go the way a person plans. Taking the soup out of the container it came in and into a bowl I cosied up on my couch. The little clothing on my body was a partner in crime for the somewhat cold air that had breached my warm home due to speaking with Dr. Reid.

Dr. Reid now that was an interesting topic. He felt like such a funny person. He was cute but it seemed like he was always uncomfortable at the things around him. It was severely kind of him to do what he did. 

Coincidences and faith is such a funny notion. I live next to the dude that is working with my Best Friends boyfriend for who knows how many years and how we meet up. Only because of a party? And because he kind of memorised my name? Interesting to say the least.

After finishing up my bowl of delicious soup, I felt happy. Food always provided comfort for the Doctor and the whore in me. Sighing I looked up and saw the time that read 6:17pm. 

Oh fuck, I’m gonna be late.

Quickly I placed the rest of the soup in the fridge and my dishes in the sink. Running to my room I sat down by my vanity. Deciding on some tinted moisturiser, lip tint, and eyeliner I began my first wave of beautification. Adding on eyebrow tints, lip gloss, and blush on my nose and cheeks I felt complete.

Spritzing on some setting spray I was ready to put on my dress. As I was standing my phone in an awkward position underneath my vanity. As I reached for it one side of my collarbone collided with the edge of vanity. Cursing at the pain I adjusted myself differently to reach towards my phone again only for another assault to appear right underneath from where it was originally formed.

Oh fuck. That's gonna bruise in a few hours.

After using the tip of my toes as a means to grab my phone I picked it much more carefully now. I then headed towards my fridge to grab an ice to help with the bruising that was slightly pink but painfully obvious.

Carefully I began slipping on my dress over my body. The velvet fabric of the dress clutched around my body. The feeling it provided on my freshly hairless legs made my toes curl in pure gratification. Each movement so agonisingly palpable from the swift touches of the dress on my legs, knees, calves, and thighs. 

Walking towards the vanity again I slowly brushed out my hair. I added in some oil at my tips and placed it at the end of my hair for some shine and control when styling. Deciding on just a low bun with some loose hair framing my front face I was done with my hair in 15 minutes. Although those 15 minutes surely as hell felt like an eternity to my aching bicep muscles. 

Looking at myself in the mirror I was astonished at the person staring back at me. My usual night outs I wore very minimal clothing for obvious reasons but this dress on me was even hotter. The control of how much skin I showed made me feel modest but authoritative. I looked like a personification of luxury and my ego was feeding it all up. It's been a while since I have dressed up like this.

Reaching for the jewellery box I opened up the box I placed the diamond necklace on my neck. It was a gift given to me by my cousin Ly, she is a jewellery maker and she made it just for me.

I need to buy her babies Christmas presents.

Adjusting the necklace properly on my neck I added on the pair of earrings I bought myself for my Sweet 16. Feeling a bit bare, I decided on a bracelet on my left hand and a silver ring on my right ring finger.

Spraying a little bit of Vanilla Berry perfume on myself I felt confident in my look. Grabbing my black clutch I quickly stuffed in my lip tint, lip gloss, blush, and perfume. My phone turned on my dresser and I walked over to see who it was only to see the time that read 7:03pm.

Holy Fuck I’m late.

Chapter 3 here

@awesomeness1679

[marvel-and-mischief]

❄️ December Writing Challenge ❄️

Day 15. Matching Pyjamas

Pairing: Richard Alonso Muñoz x GN!Reader Words: 754 Warnings: none!

December Writing Challenge masterlist

“Do you think this is cute?” Richard turned the catalogue that had been placed in his mailbox this morning towards you, a nervous frown creasing his features. You lower the book you were reading, a collection of Emily Dickinson poems, to peer at the page he held open. There were two beautiful models leaning towards each other, mistletoe dangling above their heads as they held a small gift between them. Their bodies were twisted uncomfortably towards the camera to display the clothes they were selling; a pair of matching button-up pyjamas in festive red with gold lining.

“Couples pyjamas?” you asked, glancing questioningly at Richard. He gave a half shrug, cheeks dusting pink in embarrassment as he fumbled with the pages of the catalogue. 

“It was a thought, never mind,” Richard mumbled almost incoherently but you heard enough to know he was deflecting from his true feelings. You noticed that with Richard. He was sometimes too afraid to say exactly what he felt. Instead he tested the waters, threw out a suggestion, making out it was only half a thought. But you knew him. And you knew he wanted couples pyjamas.

“I’ll make us a tea,” you suggested, patting his knee comfortingly on your way to the kitchen. You made sure you weren’t observed when you typed the catalogues website into your phone and searched for a pyjama set.

-

Neither you nor Richard wanted to make a big deal out of Christmas this year. You both had a couple of days off and you’d decided to spend it with each other at home, watching holiday movies, eating a wide range of food from both your cultures and settling down in the evenings to play games and read in each others company. 

As soon as you were ready to get into your pyjamas, when the sky was becoming dark and the hot cocoa was at the forefront of your minds, you turned to Richard with a content smile.

“I brought you a new pyjama set. Would you wear it for me tonight?” Richard looked at you in surprise. Already beyond grateful for the presents he’d received this morning he couldn’t believe you’d brought him another gift. 

“You are much too good to me,” he kissed you sweetly, pulling back reluctantly with child-like excitement in his eyes.

“It’s on the bed,” you said, prompting Richard to hurry up the stairs. 

Richard was a careful dresser. He secured every button carefully, tied every lace firmly, positioned collars perfectly. So you knew you had time to ready your final present. You reached over the side of the armchair to retrieve the bag you’d secretly placed there a few days before, pulling out the pyjamas you’d brought that matched the ones Richard was changing into upstairs. They weren’t the exact pyjamas he’d seen in the catalogue a couple of weeks ago but they were just as festive. The fabric was good quality cotton, a shade of light grey adorned with red berries and green holly leaves with a silver lining running along the edges of the collar, cuffs and down the front where pearl white buttons sat. The trousers were the same pattern with a red drawstring waist, the bottoms folded over and sewn. It was a beautiful set that you hoped Richard would love. 

You got changed and sat on the couch until you heard his tentative footsteps walking down the stairs. Your heart thumped with both excitement and apprehension. Your breath caught in your throat when Richard turned the corner, his hands nervously flattening the front of the pyjama top over his belly as he looked to you for approval. He was adorable in the pyjamas; the top button was low enough you could see some chest hairs poking over the top, he was walking slightly on the bottoms of the pyjama legs but he’d folded over the sleeves to free his hands. You walked over to hold his hands, giggling softly at how you two must look; silly, but completely in love.

Richard leaned forward to kiss you, underestimating the distance and landing a peck on your nose instead. You didn’t mind, there would be plenty of time this evening for as many kisses as you both wanted.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely with a wobbly smile. You took his face in your hands, your thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his cheeks.

“It’s my pleasure,” you replied, receiving a toothy grin. “Anyway, I think we look cute.”

Richard nodded, pulling you into a hug.

“We do.”

[langernameohnebedeutung]

What is the take. Please share with the class.

Oh, right my take! (I actually posted the first...thoughts of this accidentally before I could finish it because I accidentally queued them instead of drafting but that gave me more time to obsess over this)

So you know how in 2.14 this happens:

Blaine gets kidnapped by Stacey Boss, has his throat slit, and gets buried in the woods. And then by the time he digs himself back out:

Sun's up.

For a really long time, I really never thought about these scenes beyond: 'heh, there is my boy again, good for him!' until it really struck me how fucked up that was. (Partially bc I watched that Buffy episode where the others bring her back from the dead and she has to dig herself out of her own grave and everyone is horrified by how traumatising that experience must have been. Which made me go: Hey, this reminds me of-)

Blaine was down there for hours buried alive. He dug himself out for hours.

But then I thought: Hey, I can do better! I want to find out how long he was down there!

So, at first I assumed that the abduction would have taken place in the middle of the night - because that's when it would make most sense to abduct someone. But that didn't really make sense bc in all the other plots happening at the same time, everyone was still out and about, the Positivity-café from the murder of the week plot is still open etc.

But then I found this:

This takes place just two scenes after Blaine gets buried - so even if we can't really pin down whether those events happen at the same time or this one takes place a little after Blaine got buried, we can still settle for Blaine getting buried between about 7pm and (at the very latest) 7:30pm.

I skimmed through the two previous episodes and the one after that but I couldn't find anything about when this takes place - but we do know that it's really dark outside at 7pm and we do know that New Year's Eve happened Method Head four episodes ago, so it's after Winter Solstice.

So like any normal sane adult I got me this diagramme of sunrise/sunset times in Seattle throughout the year:

Now, at least several weeks have passed since Method Head so this places us well within February (which makes sense, bc the episode also originally aired on the 23rd of February 2016).

Personally, I'm actually prone to dating it even earlier, in early February or late January because they go out of their way to give us this information:

And I found this on a website about Seattle's bird-life:

Now, working out way backwards about two weeks -

-places us in late January, or very early February. Which means (referring back to our daylight diagramme), Blaine couldn't have managed to get out of that grave before 7:20am or 7:30 am.

Which gives us a pretty exact duration for how long Blaine was buried alive of about - Approximately 12 hours (minus the time it took to actually fill up the grave. Something I'll come back to)

Which is fucked up. That would be a pretty traumatic experience on normal person terms, being buried alive for 12 hours and digging yourself back out. Possibly even longer than that because by the time Blaine arrives at the morgue, it is actually well past noon -

but that would obviously include the bus-ride and we don't know how long that was. (In fact, I had a look at Google Maps and dabbled a bit to see how long different public transport rides from any surrounding forests or parks or other green areas to the inner city of Seattle would take, and it could very well be possible that Stacey just really wanted to make sure that Blaine's body wouldn't be found and had him buried really far away in any of the surrounding National Parks or national forests - and from google maps tells me, public transport only goes so far and he'd have have walked the rest, which would explain why it's already noon.

(by the way, what do people without hyperfixiations do all day? Do you just ... not use bird-mating seasons and daylight hours and public transport schedules from a city on the other side of the globe to figure out the date and time of day of tv-show events?)

But this is where speculation actually starts:

As the audience, we learn that Blaine is returning to zombie state before he gets abducted:

he can't really taste his wine anymore (and god, is he whiny about it.)

What we don't know is whether Blaine connects the dots.

What does happen is that Blaine abandons his mission of getting wine-drunk over the woes of having to pay back his debts to Mr Boss and instead suggests that Candy and he have genie costume role-play sex. Candy apparently considers this a delightful and charming notion and agrees - and they go to have sex inside another couple's coffin. Which is fitting bc now they're both dying - Blaine from reverting to zombie form and Candy because she is now infected as well. Though it need be said that as the audience, we only learn about Candy's infection after Blaine’s abduction, when Don E finds her eating the coffin owners' brains the next morning.

This also gives us some insight into the stage of his infection (which is a bit hard to tell with Blaine because he's already dyeing his hair white) - He's already infectious and showing symptoms. We had characters like Sloane who even got turned after clinical death - so at this point, Blaine's probably pretty fit to withstand some throat cutting.

Now this leaves us with two working theories:

Either: Blaine doesn't know he's a zombie again. And really thought he was going to die in the forest, up until the point at least that he survived having his throat cut or until he found himself buried alive and started digging his way back up. The latter probably being the most terrifying option. (Also: this had me thinking about how something very similar happened to Liv - she fell off the boat in the Pilot episode - and then she wakes up in a body bag. Which most likely means she died of drowning.)

Or: He did know.

Unlike most people who get turned, Blaine already knows the signs. That's personally the theory that I'm partial to. The biggest reason being that one episode later, he actually argues in favour of letting Mr Boss continue to think that he's dead - so getting abducted and faking his death actually played pretty well into his hands. Also, he very abruptly switches subjects from drinking to sleeping with Candy. And not only is infecting people kind of Blaine's thing - he also now has the perfect alibi of allegedly not knowing that he's contagious again. He gets to tie Candy to him and his business (and his brains) with perfect plausible deniability if he says he didn't know he was a zombie again. Sure, there might be some hard feelings but what can she really do? She's gonna need the brains. That's a pretty classic Blaine plan.

(there is also the third option - which is that he can tell that he's turning back but because this round of zombificiation is very different from his first one he can't really tell what's happening to him or where he's at. So if he suspects that he's turning but can't really tell what's going inside his body at this point - sleeping with Candy is still a good strategy to find out (because either she turns and he knows he's a zombie again AND he pretty much guaranteed her loyalty to his brain business OR she doesn't turn - and he at least got some nookie out of it. Plus, she's probably more likely to go along with that than with experimental scratching or blood-sharing.)

Either way, they gave him an incentive not to reveal his reversion, if he noticed it, to Candy - and we know he actively wanted to make Mr Boss believe that he's dead so he doesn't really have much incentive to put up a big fight or reveal himself or go into rage state either, during his abduction. (In this context it's interesting to point out that neither in the car nor in the woods do they have a gun to his head. So if he knows he's a zombie and he actively wanted to get away, his odds would actually have been higher taking his chances with a surprise tackle and a jump out of the car than letting them bring him wherever they're bringing him.

Which then brings me to his 'execution':

Another thing that stands out is that there isn't a lot of blood for someone who had just had his jugular cut, even after several seconds of lying in the grave.

There is the Doylist interpretation (tv restrictions) and the Watsonist one - he's a zombie, so obviously he doesn't bleed much. Though, on iZombie these explanations often go hand in hand and the zombie-thing is a way of having the characters suffer severe injuries without too much gore going on. The reason I'm bringing this up is that - if this is considered weird inside the reality of the show (the Watsonist level), then there is a surprising lack of reaction from the three seasoned murderers witnessing this scene. No one going "Wait why isn't he bleeding properly???"

On the other hand, pretty much the same gambit works on the same people from Don E at the end of the season and he canonically is a zombie, so it seems fair to attribute this to their expectation that someone who has his throat cut and is not moving is probably dead enough.

So that's that for Mr Boss' guys, but the real question is -

what's going on with Blaine.

Now, throughout the show, we see several zombies suffer severe throat injuries. (And in fact, several of those people are Blaine because he's just such a popular guy) We have our poor pal Luta, who got stabbed into side of his neck with a Balisong -

Luta ends up almost completely losing his voice from this, something that doesn't really seem to add up in light of the healing abilities of the other zombie characters, but I'm willing to ascribe it to his vocal cords healing back together wrong or scarring in a way that makes it difficult to produce sound which is a condition that normal humans can get from as much as over-using their voice. Since we saw the wound having formed a scar in a later episode, I think that's as good an explanation as any.

Our biggest example would be Dino who literally gets beheaded -

(and that's one I really don't know how to explain beyond being an example of the extreme durability of zombies. But still, there is no way to make sense of this physiologically. You need lungs to produce sound or to speak.)

But the most obvious example...would still be Blaine himself because we see him get shot, stabbed, impaled through his throat and whatnot:

In Eat A Knievel, he gets shot through the throat and basically shows hardly any physical reaction at all:

And then, just a few episodes later -

They actually put a ...kind of popping sound-effect over this that I interpret as indicating a bone/spinal injury but again, there isn't much of a physical reaction beyond entering zombie-mode - something that didn't happen on either of the other occasion (maybe a reaction to the pin still being stuck inside?)

Anyway, both of these injuries are definitely much more severe than having his throat just cut - which really just relies on the rapid drop in blood pressure and the blood loss to kill you. Both of which don't really matter much for zombies (and, as I said, considering the lack of blood loss in the forest- scene, that probably wasn't much of an issue any more at this point/stage of re-zombification.)

So yeah, assuming all that, let's remember our two (and a half) options for the forest-scene: Blaine knows he's a zombie/He doesn't know/He suspects it.

Either Blaine doesn't know/isn't sure he's a zombie at this point - then this is the point where he definitely would find out. In that scenario, he'd actually think/consider the chance that he might be dying when he gets his throat slit, maybe react to the pain or enter some state of shock.

Considering that we still see a little bit more blood on him in the forest scene as compared to the other occasions, his cardiovascular system might still not have returned to zombie-baseline entirely and have supported his body somewhat. In which case maybe he is experiencing the symptoms of blood loss or rapid drop in blood pressure - but less severely/fatally - which might explain weakness or even unconsciousness. In which case he really would be waking up underground OR while they're filling up the grave.

On the other hand, if he's far enough along into rezombification (and possibly even aware of it) - - -

He could just be faking the whole thing. He might really just be faking the neck-clutching, the unconsciousness. In fact, considering the level of drama he has falling into that grave and his history/future of faking stuff, I wouldn't put this past him.

But this interpretation also adds a whole new level of insanity to what's happening. Now, I don't know how long it really would take to fill up a grave (and I suspect it has a lot to do with ground conditions and what not) but ...I suspect it does take a while, even for two dudes. Let's give it more than half an hour. Especially considering they do a pretty good job with that grave (until Blaine breaks through the ground again, the spot looks perfectly smooth and untouched).

This means, Blaine would not only have been inside his grave, digging his way up for about 12 hours - he was also fully conscious and playing dead while he was getting buried. That would mean he was just lying there while they shovel several hundred kilogrammes of dirt on top of him. Apparently being very optimistic that he will be able to dig his way out (before he goes Romero).

He did manage, I guess. But it's still a gamble.

So that's...just there.

But that also raises the question: If he knows or is beginning to suspect or realise that he's a zombie again - what exactly is stopping him from putting an end to this? I doubt that they kept a gun trained on a dead body that whole time. And with everyone busy with shovelling and he himself being a zombie, that would have been the perfect opportunity to get out of that situation. He could just enter rage mode and maul them. Actually, this was so far my biggest argument against Blaine knowing that he's a zombie or against him being actually conscious while getting buried - and again, that's just all personal speculation.

But I still wondered: Wouldn't it have been more useful to him to just kill Mr Boss there and then rather than fake his own death? In fact, it's just three dudes, he's a zombie, two are probably busy digging. And they're already in the most secluded area that he could ever hope to get Stacey in. There's even a grave ready to throw them into.

Except, then I realised something else -

So at this point, if something happens to Mr Boss, he'd lose his immunity - which is the only thing keeping Clive and Dale from putting into prison for 10 years for his old drug charges. (And I guess he loses access to Peyton which we know he also isn't hyped for). So yeah, that makes Mr Boss more useful for him alive than dead - as long as Boss in turn thinks Blaine's dead.

And on a completely related but also wildly different note:

(and this is where I abandon speculation and interpretation in favour of completely making things up) I talked about how being buried alive for a whole night, desperately trying to dig yourself up for hours would probably be a highly traumatising experience for a person. Like...that's the kind of shit that gives you a lifetime of claustrophobia one might imagine.

But the really interesting thing is, Blaine loves to threaten to do this to other people:

I mean, he really likes doing that - especially with the added threat of burying people alive in them. Or unalive. For all eternity. Now I hear you say 'well, he has a funeral home now, so that's probably convenient to dispose of them that way'.

But let me provide a counter-argument:

Shit's expensive.

He specifically mentions that Mr Boss' casket is mahogany. He has a human-sized freezer in the basement, he could be giving him the same treatment he did Major in season 1 (which was also a confined space he locked him into, mind you). He also has a human-sized incinerator where he can dispose of bodies. And a giant collection of tools to cut into and rearrange bodies with. But no, his favourite torture method is really that: Locking people into small spaces and abandoning them. Even dumping Angus into the well holds up with that.

In fact, when it comes to actually torturing Angus into changing his will in The Whooper - he let's Chief and Candy do that - while he walks away.

Now, with Angus, it's all a lot more direct and intentional - Blaine even spells it out himself in that scene:

It's revenge for ignoring his pleas for help when he was a child. So he's now ignoring his father while Chief and Candy can do whatever they like with him and he's going to ignore it in turn. I mentioned in another post how a lot of Blaine's anger at Angus is actually less about the physical abuse his father put him through - but he seems at least much, if not more, occupied with feelings of betrayal and abandonment due to his father's absences and disregard for him.

And in fact, it makes a lot of sense considering that he was (intentionally or not) abandoned by both his parents - his mother because she withdrew more and more from her husband's abuse and Angus because he's...well, Angus. Not to mention his grandfather being institutionalised which probably also meant losing access to him. Heck, damn kid even lost his dog which was probably the only living being still left who paid attention to him at home.

A lot of the stuff we learn about that Blaine did in his childhood (like stealing his mother's beloved earrings - instead of literally anything else on their fucking estate he could have sold) really resonate as a bid for attention more than anything. And it's pretty much a behaviour that continues into adulthood - from the way he inflicts himself on Liv and Ravi sometimes, the way he keeps bragging and lying to Al Bronson about how popular and happy he is, the way he starts being drawn in by his father actually showing an interest in him in season 4, the way Major manages to get his attention with promises of statues and schools named after him - he just really, really likes being noticed, whether that be in a good or a bad way. - - - so the threat of burying someone alive somewhere for all eternity and no one will ever know about their suffering - actually seems like he's subconsciously drawing on his own experiences of something he experienced as particularly terrifying and torturous as a child: His suffering being ignored.

Now add to that his very specific love of torturing people by forcing them into confined spaces for as long as he feels like it -

(again, I'm all out on the limb of speculation here but I don't look a gift parallel in the mouth.)

So yeah, 12 hours in a hole digging his way up or being forgotten out there and going Romero in the ground.

I don't think that was fun for him.

And then it's never mentioned again because...this is not all that deep, okay??? I'm normal about this.

[writingwithcolor]

What Does Our "Motivations” PSA Mean?

@luminalalumini said:

I've been on your blog a lot and it has a lot of really insightful information, but I notice a theme with some of your answers where you ask the writer reaching out what their 'motivation for making a character a certain [race/religion/ethnicity/nationality] is' and it's discouraging to see, because it seems like you're automatically assigning the writer some sort of ulterior motive that must be sniffed out and identified before the writer can get any tips or guidance for their question. Can't the 'motive' simply be having/wanting to have diversity in one's work? Must there be an 'ulterior motive'? I can understand that there's a lot of stigma and stereotypes and bad influence that might lead to someone trynna add marginalized groups into their stories for wrong reasons, but people that have those bad intentions certainly won't be asking for advice on how to write good representation in the first place. Idk its just been something that seemed really discouraging to me to reach out myself, knowing i'll automatically be assigned ulterior motives that i don't have and will probably have to justify why i want to add diversity to my story as if i'm comitting some sort of crime. I don't expect you guys to change your blog or respond to this or even care all that much, I'm probably just ranting into a void. I'm just curious if theres any reason to this that I haven't realized exists I suppose. I don't want y'all to take this the wrong way because I do actually love and enjoy your blog's advice in spite of my dumb griping. Cheers :))

We assume this is in reference to the following PSA:

PSA to all of our users - Motivation Matters: This lack of clarity w/r to intent has been a general issue with many recent questions. Please remember that if you don’t explain your motivations and what you intend to communicate to your audience with your plot choices, character attributes, world-building etc., we cannot effectively advise you beyond the information you provide. We Are Not Mind Readers. If, when drafting these questions, you realize you can’t explain your motivations, that is likely a hint that you need to think more on the rationales for your narrative decisions. My recommendation is to read our archives and articles on similar topics for inspiration while you think. I will be attaching this PSA to all asks with similar issues until the volume of such questions declines. 

We have answered this in three parts.

1. Of Paved Roads and Good Intentions

Allow me to give you a personal story, in solidarity towards your feelings:

When I began writing in South Asia as an outsider, specifically in the Kashmir and Lahore areas, I was doing it out of respect for the cultures I had grown up around. I did kathak dance, I grew up on immigrant-cooked North Indian food, my babysitters were Indian. I loved Mughal society, and every detail of learning about it just made me want more. The minute you told me fantasy could be outside of Europe, I hopped into the Mughal world with two feet. I was 13. I am now 28.

And had you asked me, as a teenager, what my motives were in giving my characters’ love interests blue or green eyes, one of them blond hair, my MC having red-tinted brown hair that was very emphasized, and a whole bunch of paler skinned people, I would have told you my motives were “to represent the diversity of the region.” 

I’m sure readers of the blog will spot the really, really toxic and colourist tropes present in my choices. If you’re new here, then the summary is: giving brown people “unique” coloured eyes and hair that lines up with Eurocentric beauty standards is an orientalist trope that needs to be interrogated in your writing. And favouring pale skinned people is colourist, full stop.

Did that make me a bad person with super sneaky ulterior motives who wanted to write bad representation? No.

It made me an ignorant kid from the mostly-white suburbs who grew up with media that said brown people had to “look unique” (read: look as European as possible) to be considered valuable.

And this is where it is important to remember that motives can be pure as you want, but you were still taught all of the terrible stuff that is present in society. Which means you’re going to perpetuate it unless you stop and actually question what is under your conscious motive, and work to unlearn it. Work that will never be complete.

I know it sounds scary and judgemental (and it’s one of the reasons we allow people to ask to be anonymous, for people who are afraid). Honestly, I would’ve reacted much the same as a younger writer, had you told me I was perpetuating bad things. I was trying to do good and my motives were pure, after all! But after a few years, I realized that I had fallen short, and I had a lot more to learn in order for my motives to match my impact. Part of our job at WWC is to attempt to close that gap.

We aren’t giving judgement, when we ask questions about why you want to do certain things. We are asking you to look at the structural underpinnings of your mind and question why those traits felt natural together, and, more specifically, why those traits felt natural to give to a protagonist or other major character.

I still have blond, blue-eyed characters with sandy coloured skin. I still have green-eyed characters. Because teenage me was right, that is part of the region. But by interrogating my motive, I was able to devalue those traits within the narrative, and I stopped making those traits shorthand for “this is the person you should root for.” 

It opened up room for me to be messier with my characters of colour, even the ones who my teenage self would have deemed “extra special.” Because the European-associated traits (pale hair, not-brown-eyes) stopped being special. After years of questioning, they started lining up with my motive of just being part of the diversity of the region.

Motive is important, both in the conscious and the subconscious. It’s not a judgement and it’s not assumed to be evil. It’s simply assumed to be unquestioned, so we ask that you question it and really examine your own biases.

~Mod Lesya

2. Motivations Aren't Always "Ulterior"

You can have a positive motivation or a neutral one or a negative one. Just wanting to have diversity only means your characters aren't all white and straight and cis and able-bodied -- it doesn't explain why you decided to make this specific character specifically bi and specifically Jewish (it me). Yes, sometimes it might be completely random! But it also might be "well, my crush is Costa Rican, so I gave the love interest the same background", or "I set it in X City where the predominant marginalized ethnicity is Y, so they are Y". Neither of these count as ulterior motives. But let's say for a second that you did accidentally catch yourself doing an "ulterior." Isn't that the point of the blog, to help you find those spots and clean them up?

Try thinking of it as “finding things that need adjusting” rather than “things that are bad” and it might get less scary to realize that we all do them, subconsciously. Representation that could use some work is often the product of subconscious bias, not deliberate misrepresentation, so there's every possibility that someone who wants to improve and do better didn't do it perfectly the first time. 

--Shira

3. Dress-Making as a Metaphor

I want to echo Lesya’s sentiments here but also provide a more logistical perspective. If you check the rubber stamp guide here and the “Motivation matters” PSA above, you’ll notice that concerns with respect to asker motivation are for the purposes of providing the most relevant answer possible.

It is a lot like if someone walks into a dressmaker’s shop and asks for a blue dress/ suit (Back when getting custom-made clothes was more of a thing) . The seamstress/ tailor is likely to ask a wide variety of questions:

What material do you want the outfit to be made of?

Where do you plan to wear it?

What do you want to highlight?

How do you want to feel when you wear it?

Let’s say our theoretical customer is in England during the 1920s. A tartan walking dress/ flannel suit for the winter is not the same as a periwinkle, beaded, organza ensemble/ navy pinstripe for formal dress in the summer. When we ask for motivations, we are often asking for exactly that: the specific reasons for your inquiry so we may pinpoint the most pertinent information.

The consistent problem for many of the askers who receive the PSA is they haven’t even done the level of research necessary to know what they want to ask of us. It would be like if our English customer in the 1920s responded, “IDK, some kind of blue thing.” Even worse,  WWC doesn’t have the luxury of the back-and-forth between a dressmaker and their clientele. If our asker doesn’t communicate all the information they need in mind at the time of submission, we can only say, “Well, I’m not sure if this is right, but here’s something. I hope it works, but if you had told us more, we could have done a more thorough job.”

Answering questions without context is hard, and asking for motivations, by which I mean the narratives, themes, character arcs and other literary devices that you are looking to incorporate, is the best way for us to help you, while also helping you to determine if your understanding of the problem will benefit from outside input. Because these asks are published with the goal of helping individuals with similar questions, the PSA also serves to prompt other users.

I note that asking questions is a skill, and we all start by asking the most basic questions (Not stupid questions, because to quote a dear professor, “There are no stupid questions.”). Unfortunately, WWC is not suited for the most basic questions. To this effect, we have a very helpful FAQ and archive as a starting point. Once you have used our website to answer the more basic questions, you are more ready to approach writing with diversity and decide when we can actually be of service. This is why we are so adamant that people read the FAQ. Yes, it helps us, but it also is there to save you time and spare you the ambiguity of not even knowing where to start.

The anxiety in your ask conveys to me a fear of being judged for asking questions. That fear is not something we can help you with, other than to wholeheartedly reassure you that we do not spend our unpaid, free time answering these questions in order to assume motives we can’t confirm or sit in judgment of our users who, as you say, are just trying to do better.

Yes, I am often frustrated when an asker’s question makes it clear they haven’t read the FAQ or archives. I’ve also been upset when uncivil commenters have indicated that my efforts and contributions are not worth their consideration. However, even the most tactless question has never made me think, “Ooh this person is such a naughty racist. Let me laugh at them for being a naughty racist. Let me shame them for being a naughty racist. Mwahaha.”

What kind of sad person has time for that?*

Racism is structural. It takes time to unlearn, especially if you’re in an environment that doesn’t facilitate that process to begin with. Our first priority is to help while also preserving our own boundaries and well-being. Though I am well aware of the levels of toxic gas-lighting and virtue signaling that can be found in various corners of online writing communities in the name of “progressivism*”, WWC is not that kind of space. This space is for discussions held in good faith: for us to understand each other better, rather than for one of us to “win” and another to “lose.”

Just as we have good faith that you are doing your best, we ask that you have faith that we are trying to do our best by you and the BIPOC communities we represent.

- Marika.

*If you are in any writing or social media circles that feed these anxieties or demonstrate these behaviors, I advise you to curtail your time with them and focus on your own growth. You will find, over time, that it is easier to think clearly when you are worrying less about trying to appease people who set the bar of approval so high just for the enjoyment of watching you jump. “Internet hygiene”, as I like to call it, begins with you and the boundaries you set with those you interact with online.

[the-hot-zone]

Too Old To Play With Toys: The Sad Truth Behind Sokka's Boomerang

This is Sokka’s boomerang: 

[ID: a screenshot of Sokka’s boomerang from Avatar: The Last Airbender. It has just been thrown, and it whips through the air in a rapid, whirling motion. End ID.]

And as we all know, it always comes back. This characteristic makes Sokka’s boomerang a returning boomerang, rather than a hunting boomerang. This is an important distinction to make, and it’s where the heart of this headcanon lays. Let me explain. 

Accuracy: What’s the Difference Between Hunting and Throwing Boomerangs?

There are three types of boomerangs: the hunting boomerang, the returning boomerang, and the cross boomerang. We’re only going to be discussing hunting and throwing boomerangs, but feel free to learn about cross boomerangs and their construction--they’re really cool. As a general note: the following sources and information pertain to Aboriginal Australian cultures. Boomerangs were used elsewhere, but mainly as throwing sticks, not returning boomerangs.

So, hunting boomerangs, also known as throwing sticks or kylies, have this basic shape:

[ID: a black silhouette of a hunting boomerang. It is shaped like a skinny tear drop, with a slight curve along its form, and it widens asymmetrically at its ends. End ID.]

[ID: an overhead shot of three hunting boomerangs. They are carved from glossy, light-brown wood. End ID.]

Artist: Aboriginal Elder, Joe Skeen Snr. Buy here.

The hunting boomerang is straighter, larger, longer, and deadlier than the returning boomerang. “With it,” states the Britannica, “animals were maimed and killed, while in warfare it caused serious injuries and death.” This is due to its shape, which allows it to travel in a relatively straight line. With its capability for distance and force, the hunting boomerang is a very powerful tool. 

According to Boomerang: Behind an Australian Icon by Philip Jones, a hunting boomerang can travel around 100 meters. If the boomerang is heavy enough, and the throw forceful enough, large prey, like kangaroos, can be killed. If you want to see a hunting boomerang in action, watch sections of this Youtube video. The range and accuracy of this tool are amazing. 

The returning boomerang, which was used in eastern and western parts of Australia, is very different:

[ID: a black silhouette of a returning boomerang. It has two arms that widen towards the middle and connect, forming an angled shape, like a triangle with two sides. End ID.]

[ID: a painted returning boomerang. The base is formed from a smooth, light-colored wood. Designs are painted at the end of its wings, in the middle of its wings, and towards its center. At the center is a stylized turtle. End ID.]

Artist: unknown, but sold by Aboriginal-owned business Murra Wolka. Website here. 

As you can see, the returning boomerang is shorter, smaller, and angled sharply. The shape of it allows it to trace an elliptical path, thus returning to the thrower. But this property is not without its drawbacks:

“A hunting boomerang needs to fly well and nearly straight to strike prey some 200 metres away. The trouble is that the best-flying boomerangs tend to return, rarely departing beyond fifty metres from the thrower. With the returning form ‘there is no certainty of hitting the mark. It may come back too quickly and may hit your own friends standing near you.’ While recognising that the best-flying boomerangs do return, Aborigines defined a technological problem. They needed to strike a compromise between flying ability and hunting requirements...” (Australian Museum).

Now, the returning boomerang could still be used to hunt, but not to kill or maim prey. Its application was craftier:

“When hunting ducks, for example, nets were set up at either ends of a creek or river. A boomerang was then thrown out over the ducks which gave them a scare so that they took off up the river and flew directly into the nets. From there they were collected. At other times during the hunting of birds the returning boomerang was thrown horizontally along the ground into a flock, and, as they took off the boomerang would follow them into the air. This may or may not kill the bird and a harder way to hunt” (murruppi.com).

Still, this wasn’t the main application of the returning boomerang. In actuality, it was used as a toy:

“The returning boomerang was not primarily designed for hunting as it is too light and wouldn't guarantee a kill. Rather, it was designed as a toy for young aboriginal boys. The toy would allow a youngster to practice throwing skills but still make it fun” (murrippi.com). 

So, Sokka’s boomerang? A plaything.

Let’s Bring It Back to ATLA: What Does This Mean?

With the above information, Sokka’s use of his boomerang in canon becomes almost tragic. His boomerang was probably given to him by Hakoda when he was very young. He used it to learn how to throw; one day, when he was older, he would have carved his own throwing stick, and used it to hunt alongside his dad and the other adults of his tribe. 

Instead, Sokka’s boomerang is another aspect of his childhood that was twisted by the war. His boomerang is--should have been--nothing more than a toy. He shouldn’t have had to use it to fend off Zuko, attack Azula, and defeat Combustion Man. Regardless, it did become a tool he used to help defeat the Fire Nation, and that’s pretty fitting when it comes to ATLA’s ideas of childhood and war: Sokka spent years acting as his tribe’s protector; Katara spent longer acting as a mother. Thus, his use of his boomerang throughout the show displays how Sokka was forced into a war-torn world at an incredibly, unfairly young age. As a result, he was forced to adapt in ways that took from him. 

And we’ve all seen Sokka’s boomerang in action. Here’s a video of his greatest hits--literally. His accuracy is insane, and he catches his boomerang every time. He’s more than ready to have a hunting boomerang, yet we see him use his returning boomerang throughout the show, and long after he earns his ice dodging mark. Tbh? I think that Sokka didn’t want to carve a hunting boomerang without his dad guiding his hands. 

So, you might be wondering, what happens post-war? 

Eventually, I think Sokka retires his returning boomerang and carves his own hunting boomerang, but the shape of it is particular: 

“Some scientists argue that a throwing-stick, commonly used by indigenous hunters around the world, is the precursor of the boomerang... Through trial-and-error the boomerang was refined to a point where the most desirable size, proportions and curvature were established. This refinement brought one serious problem: any improvement in flying resulted in a tendency to return. There is little doubt that indigenous hunters brought this experiment to its ultimate conclusion, by producing the perfect returning boomerang” (Australian Museum).

In short, making a good hunting boomerang is hard. Lots of trial and error, and still, hunting boomerangs come in a wide array of shapes. Thus, I headcanon that Sokka carves his hunting boomerang differently, as compared to the other members of his tribe--it’s more curved. This would show that although he's grown up and is in a post-war world, he's changed in some ways that can't be completely undone. 

In other words, Sokka eventually moves on, but the way he throws and uses his boomerang is going to be a little different.

Conclusion

TL;DR: Sokka’s boomerang is a plaything, and this has sad implications. But also? He never should have had one in the first place. Firstly, boomerangs were traditionally made from green hardwood, which I don’t believe can be found in the South Pole. I on god can’t find any authentic sources for bone or metal boomerangs. To be more accurate and still keep with the trend of throwing weapons, I would’ve given Sokka a nuqaq and darts or a bola.

Also, as far as I can tell, Sokka’s boomerang is the only aspect of Aboriginal Australian culture Bryke used in ATLA (I can’t get a confirmation on Hakoda’s name). This is cherry-picking to the max, and it perpetuates the harmful ideas of pan-indigeneity wrt one large, singular culture. 

So, if you enjoyed this, please consider supporting aboriginal artists and charities. You can buy aboriginal art from murrippi.com and Murra Wolka. This article here provides a list of charities as well as active GoFundMe’s for families affected by police brutality against Aboriginal Australians. Thank you.

Sources

“Hunting Boomerang - Extreme Range - The Aboriginal Karli” by Throwsticks Channel

“Boomerang Information“ by Murruppi, Djirrbal/Ngadjonji Tribe 

“Boomerang” by the Encyclopaedia Britannica's editors for the Encyclopaedia Britannica

“It Comes Back ... What a Nuisance!“ by Stan Florek for Australian Museum 

Boomerang: Behind an Australian Icon by Philip Jones from Wikipedia 

Murra Wolka 

Gonna tag @atlaculture​​​ because I think this is of your interest. <3

[uweiy]

5, 10 & 25 please! <3

Thank uuuuuuuuu!!!!!! From this ask game.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

Hmmmmm oh good question. Oh I know. I wish someone would ask me how I feel now about the first fic I ever wrote! Which is Early Mornings and Late Nights (10k, Xicheng, The Untamed). And I would answer... It makes me chuckle fondly and quietly. Like at the time I was so proud of it. I thought it was perfect (it isn't). And it's like College AU!!! Me!! Who swears by Canon Universe!! But it was a project with a friend, it taught me a lot, and I still enjoy reading it. And it reminds me how much I've grown!

But honestly hm. I think some of my other, later Xicheng fics are better written. For extrying to hold on (to you), 1,6k, canon universe– to this day one of my faves, or you confused me with a fucking dog, 1,6k, college AU)

And idk what exactly but I wish someone would ask me a question about The Clearest Diamonds (3k, Bagginshield, The Hobbit) Just because... it doesn't fit much with any of my themes, I haven't advertised it anywhere, and I posted it suuuuper out of season and therefore haven't gotten much opportunity to talk about it haha

10. How do you decide what to write?

Simple! I live my life, BAM Idea pops into my head, demon takes control and I cannot do anything but write for a week and then I am content. For one day. Rinse and repeat.

No more seriously uhhh most my ideas are born out of spite, dissatisfaction with canon or where I wish canon had gone. Sometimes I'm not even sure what I wish for exactly until I've written it out.

I really loved taking prompts in the Untamed days because it enabled me to try out ideas that went beyond that!

They are all in the The Untamed/Mdzs Tumblr promts series btw.

Other times I just want to challenge myself. I would love to write a suuuuper angsty fic that makes people cry and weep just because that is soooooo difficult and not "natural" for me. So I have two snippets where I tried it out. (Those who bleed, 600 words, Wangxian,; The sky is blue, the grass is green, 1.3k, Steddie)

I would also like to write suuuuper long 200k plotty fics because that is, so not me. Haven't gotten around to that but. A dude can dream!

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

WordHippo: "What is another word for...[insert word]" English is not my native language and sometimes I have a good enough word to say what I want to but I know there is a more perfect one out there. O love how many synonyms for a word it gives you, sorted by the different definitions of the word. Like 99,9% I am able to find the word I was looking for

Grammarly: You don't have a Beta-reader? Now you do! For grammar anyway. And any typo you might have missed.

The original material. When in doubt, listen to the character voices again, everything will fall in place.

Michelle Schustermann on YouTube gives amazing and clear writing advice imo.

Tumblr! I ask questions. People are always willing to help 😃🧡

Thank uuuuuu this was so fun to look back on!! Hope it answered the questions :)

My ao3

[folklifestyle]

IN KENTUCKY, YOU DON’T REALLY HAVE THE LUXURY OF FRESH CHRISTMAS TREES. The stories I’ve heard about people going out to the old mine lands and cutting a cedar tree truly confuse me. Every cedar tree I’ve ever known has bent and bowed with the addition of even the lightest ornament or light. I’ve also learned that pine trees, while pretty, aren’t particularly shaped to be a Christmas tree. Beyond those two imperfect choices, you are pretty much left with “fake” down here in the Bluegrass State. Today, the options for fake trees are endless, but twenty years ago, the stereotypical cone-shaped green fake tree was all that could be found. || FULL STORY ON WEBSITE #folk #americana #christmas (at Bells Christmas Trees) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClmbTk2PKjk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[cscclibrary]

[Square graphic with a background of polygons in shades of pink, purple, blue, and green. Pink and white text in the foreground: “Transgender Awareness Week / Suggested Reading / Columbus State Library library.cscc.edu”]

Happy Transgender Awareness Week! We have a large collection of LGBTQ+-related books in our collection—here’s a few of our most recent titles.

Reading lists from the Columbus State Library can jump-start your research by suggesting useful databases, search terms, and items from our collection. Our databases and collection items are available exclusively to current Columbus State students and employees; authentication is required for access.

Relevant Guides: LGBTQ+ Studies, Gender Research

Collection Items:

Redoing Gender: How Nonbinary Gender Contributes toward Social Change, Helana Darwin [ebook]

Queer and Trans Madness: Struggles for Social Justice, Merrick Daniel Pilling [ebook]

Men in Place: Trans Masculinity, Race, and Sexuality in America, Miriam J. Abelson [ebook]

Histories of the Transgender Child, Julian Gill-Peterson [print]

The History of Trans Representation in American Television and Film Genres, Traci B. Abbott [ebook]

Beyond Binaries: Trans Identities in Contemporary Culture, Mike Perez, John C. Lamothe, Rachel Friedman eds. [ebook] 

Fat and Queer: An Anthology of Queer and Trans Bodies and Lives, Bruce Owens Grimm, Miguel M. Morales, Tiff Joshua TJ Ferentini, eds. [print]

What's Your Pronoun?: Beyond He & She, Dennis Baron [print]

Transforming Prejudice: Identity, Fear, and Transgender Rights, Melissa R. Michelson and Brian F. Harrison [ebook]

Trans-Affirmative Parenting: Raising Kids across the Gender Spectrum, Elizabeth Rahilly [ebook]

Transgender in the Workplace: The Complete Guide to the New Authenticity for Employers and Gender-Diverse Professionals, Vanessa Sheridan [ebook]

TERF Wars: Feminism and the Fight for Transgender Futures, Ben Vincent, Sonja Erikainen, and Ruth Pearce eds. [print]

Not sure where to start? Our Research Process guide breaks the process up into bite-size tasks.

Need research help or have a question about Library services? Current Columbus State students and employees can contact us via chat on our website, as well as by phone or email.

[darkleysgarden]

Obey Me 25 Days of Ficmas 2022 Day 4: Christmas Cards

Pair: Lucifer and brothers

First was the pictures.

How could anyone mess up pictures?

His brother's must be extremely incompetent.

It's really not that hard. All you do is stand and smile!

Belphie and Satan weren't smiling in any of the photos. They either stared or glared into the camera each photo.

Mammon and Asmo went completely overboard! If they were supposed to just stand there they would come up with highly obnoxious poses that drew all the attention to them! At least they smiled. Maybe they wouldn't be too noticeable?

Leviathan blinked or was looking away most photos. There were a couple that were okay, but he just looked extremely depressed. He looked as if he hated every second of his life that led up to taking those photos.

Beel, oh sweet little Beel, did the best. Sure, there were a couple blinks, he accidentally wasn't looking on occasions, but that was normal. If only all of his brother's could perform like this. Even if Beel's smile provided no teeth, that was alright. Hell, Lucifer's smile was no teeth as well.

Lucifer will admit that he looked a bit dead in some photos. But, he did stand and smile every picture. At least he wasn't bad about it.

Lucifer scoured through the photos, inspecting every last one.

Eventually he did land on three that would work. They were definitely not the best. Yet, he, Beel, and Levi were looking in all of them, decent enough smiles. Satan and Belphie werent outright glaring, which was the best they did. And Mammon and Asmo still were too overboard. But, that was normal for them and didn't heavily ruin the photos.

Another problem came with buying them.

There were so many websites to choose from. Most were complete scams.

Who charges 5,000 grimm for Christmas cards!?

Sure, he was rich and that made no dent in his money, but he wasn't giving that company satisfaction.

He did find one at a normal price that provided decent formatting.

After thinking too much about a caption, he landed on something simple.

The caption read, 'Another year of fun and joy has passed, thank you for celebrating with us. We hope to share upcoming years with you. Merry Christmas. Sincerely Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor.'

The caption held many complaints. Asmodeus and Levi claimed that it sounded 'old and stuffy'. Satan said that he disagreed with the notion and wanted his name removed.

Lucifer ignored all of those complaints. He bought the red, white, and green cards anyway.

Once they arrived he was pissed. The cards were terrible quality. The photos were blurry and the card could be easily ripped.

In his anger he left a strongly worded review to the company. Then, he bought new ones, a bit more expensive this time.

He got a head start, so the cards would arrive early enough anyway. Lucifer was still upset anyway.

The cards did finally get there, and in good quality this time.

Added onto his workload, he divided the cards into envelopes, titling them and adding small additional notes for the individual. Once the large stack was complete, he mailed them out.

Their family also gained many Christmas cards. They received them from Diavolo and Barbatos, the Purgatory Hall, and from other colleagues or friends. Lucifer hung them up around the door frame of the dining room. They blended in with their many holiday decorations.

Sure, Lucifer despised the idea of demon's celebrating Christmas at first, but it grew on him.

Christmas has, over the years, turned into a secular holiday. Therefore, it wasn't as weird for them to celebrate.

The biggest reason that he accepted it was because everyone enjoyed it.

His brother's loved it and Diavolo was beyond ecstatic about the holiday. The entire Devildom became decorated because of the prince.

Christmas Cards were a big part that he enjoyed.

He'd said that his brothers ruined the card. Yet, it felt more genuine this way. All of their personalities and quirks showed up in pictures. Whether eccentric or depressing.

Lucifer loved the cards. They were of his family, after all.

[theyareweird]

The Monster High School Map

This map was once available on the original Monster High website before all the updated changes. As the Monster High franchise expanded, more details were added to the school. However, this is the first map created and it only features a basic format of the building. This article will cover the entire school map.

The Map Key features five noted details. First, grass. Any light green areas with green tiger stripes are grass locations. Second, stairs. White rectangles with black lines are staircases. Third, parking. Gray and silver areas with black lines are parking lot locations. Fourth, classrooms. Light blue boxes are individual classrooms which are unlabeled. Finally, dark pink locations are sitting areas.

Like the school grounds, the first floor is supposedly in the shape of a coffin. Upon walking through the main entrance, students find the coffin corridor where their lockers are kept. The left contains the first floor library. On the right are four classrooms. Past the lockers is the Creepateria. Left of it is the Study Howl. The right holds the Auditorium. Past the lunch room is the Indoor Gym. Left of this is the Indoor Pool. The Soccer Field is on the right. Towards the back of the school is the Football Field.

On the second floor, the Faculty Lounge can be found on the left. Past the lounge is the second floor to the library. The right side of the main entrance appears to contain two offices. Past these two office rooms are eight individual classrooms. The end of the main hall is the Headmistress' Office. Any unknown pink areas are most likely second coffin corridors. Beyond this is another designated area for classrooms. The left has seven classrooms. Nine additional classrooms are located on the right.

Finally, the top third “floor” is supposedly a standalone room. It contains the Belltower. There, many bats can be found sleeping.

What do you think? Do you like the entire school layout? If not, why? Please share with me!

[axvoter]

Index to the Blatantly Partisan Party Reviews, 2022 federal edition

Tomorrow, 21 May, is election day. If you are unsure who all these parties are on your ballot, I’m here for you. I’ve reviewed all parties registered with the Australian Electoral Commission except for the most widely known ones: Labor, Greens, One Nation, and the Liberal/National coalition parties. I have also reviewed all independent candidates in Western Australia and a selection of others from around the country, including a number who represent unregistered parties.

You will get two ballots. The smaller green one is for the House of Representatives, the lower house; whichever party/ies command a majority on the floor of the House forms government. You must number EVERY SQUARE on the small green ballot for the House. Ignore the “no preference” in the recommendations below; that applies only to the Senate.Many seats have independent candidates; make sure you look into them as they vary substantially in their platforms and competence. View your candidates here.

The larger white ballot is for the Senate, the upper house. This is the house of review. We are voting for roughly half the Senate, as state senators serve six-year terms. This means each state elects six senators, requiring 14.3% of the vote to be elected; each territory elects just two (who serve terms aligned with the House), requiring 33.3% of the vote to be elected. On the Senate ballot you can vote above the line for PARTIES or below the line for INDIVIDUALS. Above the line you must give at least six preferences; below the line you must give at least twelve; beyond this point, you can do what you like. You can stop preferencing entirely or you give as many more preferences as you want. I recommend you preference as far as possible because this increases the power of your vote.

I posted a cheat sheet with my recommended preference categories earlier. If you want to vote below the line in the Senate, you can make your own custom How to Vote card by using this site. Print it off and take it into the booth with you! And do you need to find your nearest democracy sausage? This website has you covered.

If you want my pithy takes rather than full reviews, see this Twitter thread. If you want NSW-focused reviews, see b_auspol; if you want Victorian-focused reviews, see Something for Cate; if you want a Tasmanian overview, see this blog entry by Kevin Bonham.

The index below is alphabetised and ignores “the” at the start of a name (the AEC’s party register alphabetises parties without ignoring “the”). If a party has a Senate candidate in a state, I have named that state—i.e. wherever you live in the state, you can preference this party on your Senate ballot. It might or might not have lower-house candidates in that state too. I have only named a lower-house electorate if a party is standing a candidate there but has no Senate candidates in that state. If the party name is in the form of “party name—state Group XYZ”, this means it is an unregistered party that you will find in column XYZ of that state’s Senate ballot.

Key: party name (ideology / where running)

Animal Justice Party (animal rights / all states + ACT)

Australian Christians (Christian fundamentalism / WA)

Australian Citizens Party (conspiracy theorists / NSW, NT, QLD, SA, WA, VIC)

Australian Democrats (centre-left / NSW, QLD, SA, WA, VIC)

Australian Family Party—SA Group E (Christian fundamentalism / SA)

Australian Federation Party (antivax lunar right / all states)

Australia One (antivax lunar right / see entry for seats in NSW, QLD, SA, VIC)

Australian Progressives (centre-left / ACT, VIC, Ryan [QLD], Sturt [SA])

Australian Values Party (right-wing veterans’ rights / NSW, QLD, VIC, WA)

Centre Alliance (centrism / Mayo [SA])

David Pocock (green social liberalism / ACT)

Derryn Hinch’s Justice Party (tough-on-crime cult of personality / VIC)

Drew Pavlou Democratic Alliance (Sinophobic centre-left stupol / QLD, SA, Bennelong [NSW])

Federal ICAC Now (single issue / NSW, QLD, WA)

FUSION: Science, Pirate, Secular, Climate Emergency (centre-left / NSW, QLD, SA, VIC, WA)

The Great Australian Party (sovereign citizens / NSW, NT, QLD, SA, VIC, WA)

Indigenous–Aboriginal Party of Australia (Indigenous rights / NSW, QLD)

Informed Medical Options Party (antivax / all states + ACT)

James Bond (left-leaning joke candidate / VIC)

Jacqui Lambie Network (centre-right populism / TAS)

Katter’s Australian Party (cult of personality / QLD)

Kim for Canberra (left-leaning social progressivism / ACT)

Legalise Cannabis Australia (single issue / all states and territories)

Liberal Democratic Party (right-libertarian / all states and territories)

The Liberty Party of Australia—ungrouped independent Glenn Floyd (fringe antivax even by antivaxxer standards / VIC)

The Local Party (centrism / SA and TAS)

Max Dicks (left-wing / VIC)

Nick Xenophon—SA Group O (centrism / SA)

No Mandatory Vaccination Party—WA Group P (antivax / WA)

Reason Australia (centre-left civil libertarian / NSW, QLD, VIC)

Reignite Democracy Australia—VIC Group R (antivax far-right / VIC and see entry for sympathetic indies in all states)

Rex Patrick Team (centrism / SA)

Seniors United Party of Australia (right-wing seniors’ rights / NSW, WA)

Shooters, Fishers and Farmers Party (anti-environmentalist gun nuts / NSW, TAS, VIC, Maranoa [QLD])

The Silent Majority—QLD Group A (really niche right-wing / QLD)

Social Justice Independents—WA Group K (left-wing / WA)

Socialist Alliance (socialism / NSW, QLD, VIC, WA)

Socialist Equality Party—NSW Group F, QLD Group I, VIC Group Y (cantankerous socialists / NSW, QLD, VIC)

Sustainable Australia Party–Stop Overdevelopment/Corruption (anti-immigration NIMBYism / all states and territories)

Teal Independents (mostly centre but variation / NSW, SA, VIC, TAS, WA)

TNL aka The New Liberals (social liberalism and Modern Monetary Theory / NSW, QLD, Sturt [SA], Aston and Hawke [VIC])

United Australia Party (antivax far-right populism / all states and territories)

Victorian Socialists (socialism / VIC)

Ungrouped independent candidates for the Senate in Western Australia (too little info or antivax or otherwise problematic)

Western Australia Party (centre-right parochialism / WA)

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Here is Part one if you haven’t already read it!

Chimney is exclusively wearing dark colours in this episode, completely reflective of where he is emotionally at this time. but what is most fun is that he has on a dark navy zipped collared jumper when he saves the baby - he’s still a paramedic and can step into that role when needed, even though he’s in a dark place and hunting for Maddie.

He continues to be in a dark place in a when he’s talking to Eli - the black jacket, but we also see that patterning theory coming into play again (Chim do be looking good in this outfit ngl). What Eli says gives him food for thought. Up until now he has been on one very focused mission - find Maddie - now that mission is being questioned and his perception of it is slightly altering - the fundamentals are still the same, but there’s a side quest - he needs to make sure he does his own healing so he can be the person he needs to be for Maddie when he finds her - not the slightly frantic crazy persona he’s currently vibing which won’t be helpful to her - it’s beautiful and subtle story telling and makes Eli’s impact even more wonderful and important.

Harry is wearing a plaid shirt when he’s waiting for May to collect him (more pattern theory - there’s just so much of it!) - the whole point of this is that Harry is battling between what Jeffery has said to him, what May is saying and why he wants to say to his parents.

Later when he’s in the psychologists office his Henley is very definitely split with the tie dye band across the middle - to me this is suggestive of a division - a decision he has to make as to where he goes from here - what is on the screen (Jeffery) or what his counsellor (and family) is telling him. That he’s only wearing block colours - a jade green shirt when he’s listening to May and Michael talk, and then a maroony brown later on when he goes back to the house he was walled up in shows that decision has been made, he’s no longer confused or uncertain, hence the single colour, it’s also a decision that points toward his family - maroon is a red brown colour way - red, while a colour of love, is also a colour of anger - both of which apply here, while the brown tones point towards stability and nurturing and his mother(who wears a fair amount of brown and who he calls to help him when he falls through the floor)

Athena is mostly in uniform in this episode except for two scenes. Generally Athena has a pretty restricted colour palette - which I’ll go into in more detail when I get round to writing her meta (it’s all browns, blacks, army greens and whites/off whites), but this episode the broke with this, the yellow jumper is such an interesting one - we so rarely see Athena in colour like this (and the contrasting of yellow and blue keeps happening this series - I need to figure out what it could mean but that’s for another day and another post!!) and yellow is a colour of communication, it’s why it’s used for warning signs, and Athena is communicating in this scene, on multiple levels - she’s talking to Bobby, but she also talks about her therapist (yay!) and Harry’s therapist and the article on the website that Harry has been looking at. (This one is particularly amusing to me - Jeffery is still communicating from beyond the grave, but it’s all false information and this is an episode about ghosts and media and false representation in media!).

Athena’s other outfit is brown and black (like with Eddie wearing browns) she’s nurturing and open, but remains steadfast in her beliefs and the way she carries herself - always put together - we rarely see her break or allow herself to be vulnerable - so she can support her family.

At this point in time, Bobby has been pretty neutrally coloured in his clothing choices, everything we’ve seen him in outside of the firehouse has been fairly neutrally toned. I’m expecting him to have some colour changes as we get more into what his story is going to be this season, but in this episode specifically we see him in blue when Athena is opening up - he’s a calming presence, being supportive of Harry in this scene and is thus in ‘father mode’ (he’s also being a supportive sounding board for Athena and it’s lovely to see!) and white in the final scene when they’re all as a family a where he is kind of a ghost - he’s not haunting them or anything, more that he’s present, but it’s not about him (I’m actually a little surprised he’s not in grey)- it’s about the Grant family and them healing from their collective trauma - he’s been the supportive linchpin to everyone up to this point throughout Harry’s ordeal, and he will be a part of the ongoing healing process, but at that moment he’s not the focus (I’m totally explaining this badly!!)

Hen and Karen are both continuing themes established for them in earlier seasons, with hen in bright, bold, jewel tones and Karen in more pastels.

I wrote about Hens red trousers in part one of this post, what I especially loved was the big chevon design of the jumper - directing the eye downwards to the trousers and the colour way - red and brown against the black - an arrow of love and nurture pointing out of the darkness and towards renewed love 😍

hopefully this all posts ok and it makes a vague amount of sense! Also if you’ve made it this far I send you all the hugs and thanks because this got looooong!!