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yunholuvrr · 1 year ago

Text

closed doors pt.2

summary: you all engage in some,, roommate bonding.

pairing: yunho x fem!reader x yeosang

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cheating (question mark?), cuckolding, threesome, rough sex, unprotected sex, petnames, ummmm lmk if there's anything else i should tag idk what I was cooking with this one

read part 1 here

"Yeosang what the fuck are you saying?" Yunho responds first, dropping his hands from your body as if that makes the scene look any better.

"If you told me," he repeats to his friend this time, taking his cap off and walking further inside, "that you wanted to fuck my girlfriend, I would've said yes."

"What baby?" Your brain finally catches up and it's your turn to shoot him a confused look.

"Well, I would've said yes provided you were okay with it, love. Which you clearly are." He's reached the end of the bed now, head tilted in curiosity. You've never seen Yeosang mad, and even though this seems like an apt time, he's anything but.

Yunho seems to read your mind. "Are you not mad at us?"

"I probably should be," Yeosang chuckles, "but I saw this coming from a mile away." He scans the room and shuffles over to Yunho's desk chair, swivelling it to face you two. "Continue."

You and Yunho gasp in unison, and in any other situation your synchrony would've been funny. The only way to describe Yeosang's tone is dominant. It's the voice he uses when you're alone, and one glance at his crotch confirms his intentions. But Yunho doesn't know that (at least you don't think he does) and the whiplash from being caught freezes you both in place.

"Sangie-"

"I said continue," his hand smooths down his shirt and rests comfortably at the waistband of his sweats, "if you want me to forgive you, you need to put on a show."

Your gaze meets Yunho's, and when you see just how turned on being caught got him you know you have no choice. He completely relaxes beneath you, lifting his arms to rest behind his head, giving you free reign. But you still can't move.

"Princess," Yeosang brings your attention back to him, "show him what he's been missing."

The order sends a new rush of arousal through your body, rolling your hips without warning. Yunho groans under you, encouraging you to finally continue. You sit up straight, taking off your shirt and putting your body on full display for both men. The sight makes a satisfied sigh leave Yeosang's lips.

"Do you know what she likes?" He asks from the chair, palming himself over his pants.

"I don't," Yunho responds breathlessly, eyes glued to your chest as you continue to roll your hips. Some part of him in the back of his mind finds it absurd that he's about to take orders from his roommate and friend, but then again this whole situation is absurd. And he loves every single second of it.

"Her nipples are very sensitive. Not enough to make her come, but enough to hear her pretty, pretty voice," the way he talks about you as if you aren't in the room turns you on impossibly more, speeding up and biting your lip at the sensation.

"Yeah? Does your princess want my hands on her?" Yunho smirks, eyes unmoving. It's clear they're both gonna have their fun with you, whether you like it or not (you love it).

Your whimpers clearly aren't enough as Yeosang mumbles "answer him baby" before finally wandering under his sweats. You can just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, but the familiar snap of his waistband tells you he's freely stroking himself now, enjoying the show.

"Please?" Yunho's eyes finally flick up to yours at your plea, dark yet friendly. He's always had nice eyes, ones you didn't mind looking into. Has he always looked at you like this, though? Could Yeosang always tell?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp pinch on your left nipple, followed by light pressure on both as Yunho works you up. His hands are big but soft, firm but gentle as he learns every dip and curve of you. Almost too gentle, and your ever observant boyfriend gets to it before you can.

"No need to treat her nicely," he huffs out. You wish it was a lie. You wish you could be offended by anything they're subjecting you to, but you can't. Yunho only hums in agreement before pulling you down by the nape of your neck, attaching his soft lips to a nipple before you can even register what happened.

"Oh my god," you and your boyfriend nearly say in unison, albeit his much quieter, as you pant above Yunho. The sensation is so overwhelming your hips come to a stop, but he quickly replaces it with deep thrusts, skin slapping skin the only noise rivaling your endless moaning.

When he's satisfied with sucking, he repositions you again to kiss you, nothing but spit and swollen lips. His hips slow almost completely, palming the flesh of your ass as he bounces you on his dick. You exchange whimpers of pleasure as he explores your mouth, swallowing his deep groan as he buries his dick in you fully, holding your hips still.

"Does my baby wanna lay down?" He whispers into your mouth, sitting up and pushing you into the opposite side of the bed before you can say yes. You let out a sigh of relief, massaging your slightly sore thighs.

"Head back doll," Yeosang orders, voice moving towards you. If you were being honest you nearly forgot he was there, but Yunho nudges you up with his own legs until your head rests just off the edge of his mattress. Your boyfriend (can you still call him that when Yunho just called you his baby?) finally appears in your line of sight, kneeling to cup your cheek.

"Tap twice if you need air," he smiles, and doesn't wait for you to respond before maneuvering his tip to your lips. You part them, letting the familiar weight of his dick slide through with ease. Yunho groans at the sight, running his own tip between your folds before thrusting into you again. The sudden movement pushes Yeosang into your throat and you nearly choke, but they give you time to control your breathing. One inhale, one exhale, and then Yunho pulls back and fills you again. He's slow at first, letting his roommate relish in the sensation of your warm mouth, rocking you gently between both men.

"Yun, look," Yeosang sighs above you, placing a light hand near your throat. He thrusts deep enough for a bulge to appear and Yunho's grip on your hips tighten so much it might leave bruises. You only have a few seconds to keep your breathing steady before the taller boy's slamming into you, knocking Yeosang even further into your throat and eliciting a groan from all three of you.

The pace Yunho sets is brutal for everyone involved, your moans completely muffled by Yeosang and the vibrations making him embarrassingly close to coming already. He only eggs you on, hand sliding down your chest to play with a nipple. You think you can hear Yunho groaning "fuck" over and over, but nothing's louder in your ears than your own cries buried deep in your throat.

Someone's hand - probably Yunho's - makes contact with your clit, rubbing in time with his strokes. It's all too overwhelming, the spit running down your face, blood rushing to your head, slick smeared on your thighs, both your friend and boyfriend buried deep inside you. The bubbling heat inside you explodes suddenly and forcefully, legs clenching around Yunho, begging him to stop. He slows only a little, still chasing his own high, pressing soothing circles into your hips as you get hit with waves of pleasure.

Before you can compose yourself you feel Yeosang twitch inside you, hot strings sliding down your throat smoothly. You swallow around him, making him whimper above you before finally pulling out. He leaves a chaste kiss on your lips as if he didn't just fuck your throat raw, holding your head in his hands as support.

"So perfect for me," you hear Yunho grunt, thrusts getting sloppy, "take us both so well, don't you pretty?" When you finally blink enough tears away to see clearly, the vision before you is godly. He pulls out completely to release on your stomach, one hand pumping himself clean, head thrown back in ecstasy as he moans your name. It's like music to your ears, and you swear you hear Yeosang sigh pleasantly along with you.

"How are you feeling baby?" He wipes a trail of spit from your cheek as Yunho pulls you fully back onto the bed, collapsing next to you.

"'m great," you mumble, one hand tangled in his hair as another reaches for Yunho's touch. You all stay like that for a while, Yeosang stroking your hair and Yunho playing with your fingers as you catch your breath. The calm finally brings you back to your senses.

"Do you forgive me?" You look up at your boyfriend with nervous eyes, still unable to read his expression.

"If you answer this one question for me," he leans down to your ear, lips grazing your lobe.

"Yes, baby?"

"Who fucked you better?"

#yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #yeosang scenarios

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vhstown · 11 months ago

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ain't no love; pt. 3

"ain't no love and it's sure 'nuff a pity"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SUMMARY: Miles G Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 →

chapter summary: [DUAL POV] The Prowler is someone you never thought you'd run into. Miles thought the exact same thing.

content/warnings: grotesque imagery, depictions of panic and fear, violence, arguments, etc.

word count: 5.8k (dear god)

a/n: thanks to @qiupachups for proofreading cause lord knows i wouldn't have... im not ok guys like actua

“And over here is our robotics department — my favourite, personally.”

All you could think about as the man in front of you talked your ears off — and walked your legs off — was how on Earth you ended up here, rooms and corridors deep into the Oscorp Industries. Trying not to get hit by speeding interns or bump into equipment that cost more than your school uniform, you’d been taking in the winding laboratories and offices that were well past the flashy displays at the reception for the past hour or so, led by the one and only… well, the man had yet to introduce himself since excitedly deciding to take you on a tour. Forming connections, as Ms. Weber had put it, was more exhausting than you’d thought.

“Take a look at this arm for a moment — trained completely on artificial intelligence, and moves just like the real thing!”

You just smiled and nodded, the muscles in your neck starting to hurt from the action. As you did, the metal prosthetic spurred into life, swaying and flexing its bulky fingers in what looked random enough; how realistic it seemed was debatable, though. You noticed small, engraved initials on the wrist, reading “O.G.O”, much like the prototypes in the flashy displays downstairs. You’d seen nothing of the sort up here until now, though. Maybe this one was was just special.

Regardless, you really needed to sit down at some point — preferably in some corner so people could stare at you less. There was always someone throwing furtive glances your way, and right now it seemed to be a gaunt-looking man you’d seen slinking around the department, now in the little laboratory full of strange-looking arms and mechanisms that weren’t nearly as functional as the “A.I” powered one.

“Thank you, Doctor…” You squinted, the faded remnants of the name “MENDEL STROMM” forming on his badge. “Stromm.”

“Professor. Professor Stromm,” he corrected, earnest yet almost with pride. “I always felt like a teacher at heart, anyway.”

You only managed to make it halfway through your umpteenth nod before something caught the corner of your eye. The catching of light from somewhere above you, just for a moment — insignificant, really. It seemed to catch your attention long enough for Professor Stromm to notice your attention had gone elsewhere, though.

“Oh, I must be tiring you. Do you like coffee?” You barely had a chance to open your mouth. “I'll get us both some coffee, God knows I need it— just give me a minute!”

Before you could answer, the man skittered away, his rounder frame creating a noticeable dispersion the sea of people moving through the hall until he was nowhere to be seen.

That left you, a random kid, in the robotics laboratory with probably more than one pair of eyes on you. Or maybe not; when you let yourself look around, there didn’t seem to be anyone in the lab at the present moment. Thank God.

A long-overdue sigh left your chest. As much as you'd been lucky to run into Stromm by the reception (before the less-than-polite receptionist could tell you to beat it), you never expected to be running around so much from place to place, trying to make mental notes of everything he'd been saying.

So far, you had “A.I. arm”, something about “gene editing”, some other thing about “99% efficient generators” and a whole other string of scientific jargon thrown in between half-finished explanations and sporadic spurs of Stromm’s recollection. Admittedly, it stressed you out a little; you constantly had the urge to take a piece of pen and paper and record everything he was saying but you only needed a few brief ideas to go off of on your college essay. That was, if you were even going to go into the science field. You still hadn’t decided, though, if you were going to keep performing like how you did right now in your AP classes, you’d probably have your decision made for you soon enough at the back of those lifeless vegan diners opening up everywhere.

Maybe you could get an internship here, if you were lucky enough. Had you been showing enough enthusiasm? It was hard to match. In fact, the man was so enthusiastic he drained the enthusiasm from you. His passion was admirable, but also somewhat pitiful — like he had nobody to truly share his passions with it. At least until a bumbling, bashful sophomore from Visions came along. You’d rather not think about it too hard — this room was starting to make you feel dizzy. It was like there was something wrong with the ventilation, but you didn’t dare go out, given you’d probably get lost in a minute or two.

It was a week into winter break already, and the realisation made you wince. Just a couple weeks into January and you'd be head-first into exams again, while all your friends who went to other schools lived their lives. Visions just had to be different, it looked like. A couple more of Mr Wellston’s unbearable classes before that, though — instead of learning any math, you’d mastered the art of having one eye on your handout and the other on Miles’.

Miles Morales — you’d almost forgotten about him. Almost. It wasn’t hard, given how every text you’d send him had been left on read. He could’ve been busy, (or given you the wrong number) but the dread of being in that careers fair full of freshmen alone was staring to creep up on you. At least a little confirmation that he wouldn’t disappear off of the face of the Earth this semester would be nice.

Hey?

There was a twang in your chest as you looked over your barren chat.

Read at 2:41AM

…What unethical sort of time is that? He could just be bad at texting — or he just decided to hate your guts now. Either seemed unfortunately probable. Were you enemies, or something? Were you supposed to be annoyed? You’d known this kid for a couple weeks at most. Maybe it was weird of you for wanting to get his number so soon. Miles had his own life, even though he walked you back to your apartment in the middle of nowhere that one time. Why did you even care so much?

Maybe there just wasn't enough time in the day for the both of you.

Beep!

To your surprise, Stromm had come back faster than usual. He had a hand over his face, adjusting his glasses, but… no coffee in sight. The door locked automatically behind him, his badge wrung awkwardly around his neck, like he’d just thrown it on.

“Is the coffee machine broken, or something…?”

“They're completely out of cups, I'm sorry.”

“It's alright.” You could’ve really use that coffee right now, you thought.

Still, you smiled at him, feeling the ache in your face smile with you. The man seemed to be pondering something, standing still with a slightly tense expression on his face. He looked like he could’ve used that coffee too.

“Are you okay, Professor?” You tried asking this as unassumingly as you could, but it got a twitch out of him anyway.

“Yes, yes, I've just lost my train of thought…”

You waited, the faint murmurs down the hallway and the strangled breath of the ventilation system above filling the void of silence.

“Are we going to the next floor…?” you suggested.

“No, no,” he said in that melodic way he did, putting a finger up. At least he was somewhat like himself — just thinking, is all.

You decided to be patient, turning your head to stretch your neck slightly, feigning interest in the light fixtures above.

Just what the hell was that gigantic, moving shadow on the ceiling?

“Um, well I think we should go, it’s kind of warm in here—”

“Actually, I think you could do something for me.”

“What is it…?” Your eye twitched as you noticed a figure starting to form from the shadow.

“You see that robotic arm?” The one on display or the one sticking out of the god damn ceiling? “I think you should try it on.”

“What? Really?” It felt like something you’d get in trouble for, but nobody else seemed to be around — except for, you know, the dark humanoid figure right above you. “I— I think I need to use the bathroom first.”

“It’ll be quick. I mean, it’s already hooked up!” Stromm was already reaching for the device.

“No, it’s okay—”

Krrrrr… Bzzzzt!

The room flooded with darkness. Every light had gone out at the same time, the whirr of machines and electricity dying out.

“What on Ear—”

All but for a blur of reddish-magenta light.

Before you could open your mouth, the sound of a ruthless, metallic thud emerged, immediately followed by the crunching of glass, and then a choked breath.

Your vision suddenly sharpening in the little light there was, you could make out the silhouette of Stromm, staggering into the display which held the arm. Where he’d just been was now a foot, faint purplish light glowing from the underside of a shoe.

And then, a grating mechanical sound followed — it sounded like something was snapping over and over, like the arm you’d seen in the display as it moved its joints. A rim of light flickered around what looked to be a sleeve, which was attached to a giant, metallic set of claws, the sharp edges of which caught the light.

“Who are you?! W—What are you doing here?!” the professor shouted out, his feet heavy and erratic on the floor as he tried to ease himself up. His voice came out strange and desperate, strained, almost unfamiliar. You’d think it was someone else if you didn’t know it was Stromm.

All you could do was watch, taking tiny, careful steps back as you tried not to breathe. The figure moved forward, at an unnatural angle, turning as its mechanical claw clenched and unclenched in a now almost seamless movement. You caught the edge of a strange emblem, scrawled messily across the front of what looked to be a suit. It was familiar, and it sickened you once you realised.

“—In this morning’s report we investigate a disturbing string of robberies and break-ins, suspected to be carried out by a criminal duo including—”

There was no mistake — that was…

“The Prowler,” a voice answered for you, crackling and modulated.

“—Norman Obsorn suspects that Oscorp supply chains have been intercepted—”

An ear-piercing buzzing emerged from the air as threads of energy sputtered from the glowing core of his arm device, climbing rapidly up to the centre of his palm. What formed was a concentrated mass of ebnergy, undulating between the claws and casting harsh shadows around the room. Your eyes darted to Stromm, heart in your throat as you expected to meet a horrified, helpless version of the expression he had mere moments ago — it was anything but.

His face was stuck, slack — near dead. And as you watched the energy inevitably grow, his face began to change. What was once the face of Professor Stromm amalgamated into a shapeless, fleshless form, his skin receding into itself and leaving pallid, bloodless sheets of muscle, twitching with thick shadows in the ever-expanding light. As he lifted his head, deep, glowing pits were in place of his eyes.

The same strange voice that came out of the face, you realised, had never been Stromm’s to begin with.

“You are making a mistake.”

Before you could react, your skin singed with heat, sparks rushing past like missiles as the room threatened to explode into white. That was what finally gave you the sense to run.

“—It seems the notorious criminal and his accomplice have increased their activity among a concerning rise of organised crime. Authorities think they could be affiliated with what is coming to be known as ‘The Sinister Six’—”

CRASH!

Beyond your covered ears, a dull boom reverberated through the lab, a million broken shards of glass and plastic flashing with the aftershock. If you were hurt, you didn’t know, adrenaline ushering through your body. Your heartbeat was sharp and loud, your hands were shaking, bile was coming up your throat.

Get me out of here get me out of here get me out of here leave leave leave leave—

Your eyes were painfully wide, stinging with tears, yet everything was overwhelming and sharp and bright — that was when you saw it.

Glass case. Fist. You gritted your teeth.

CRRAAACK!

Big. Red. Panic button.

SLAM!

Instantly, the room exploded with red, blaring light, sirens howling through the room and beyond the door, the lock disabled. You caught one last gaze from those white electric slits before scampering into the hallway, door slamming shut behind you. All you could hear was the clatter of your feet in tandem with your thundering heart, throat too dry to scream. You just needed to get out of here, they couldn’t catch up with you — they wouldn’t.

Shoving past alarmed faces, you advanced to the end of the hall. Stairs — safest bet.

You scrambled down the dingy stairwell, hip throbbing with pain as you turned sharply against the railing down to the next floor. Sweat prickled at your skin, and you tried to breathe. The stairs seemed endless, but you were soon on the bottom floor, dragging yourself to follow everyone else leaving the building. Until you got out, you wouldn’t slow down.

Staggering into the cold, thin wind bit at your skin, the faint cry of police sirens from somewhere you couldn’t see. You tore the visitor’s badge from around your neck, filling your lungs again in big, painful gulps and squeezing your stinging eyes shut.

Never have you been more grateful to breathe in the musty Brooklyn air that you so, so hated.

“Miles…”

“I wasn’t fuckin’ thinking straight!”

“Miles.”

“I swear I had him I just—”

“Miles!”

“What?!”

“Jesus Christ, man. Calm your shit!”

Miles tensed as Aaron gave him a firm slap on the shoulder, the sick feeling in his throat easing just a little.

“It ain’t your fault.” The cool, collected voice of Uncle Aaron, much to his dismay, managed to break through his racing mind. It was his fault — everything was his fault. He’d messed up everything!

“Yes the fuck it is!”

“Watch yo’ mouth.” Aaron had a sudden severity in his tone, kicking Miles back into normality.

“Sorry,” he mumbled back.

Miles elbowed the punching bag beside him, unable to meet his uncle’s eyes. He’d let the man they’d been chasing for the past month to get away, all because he’d been too hasty — too immature. And you had made a stupidly smart decision to press that damn alarm.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he mutters again, voice seeming to fight itself.

“It’s not your fault,” Aaron repeats.

“He’s gon’ kill more people regardless. He could’ve killed—” He bit his lip, hard; your name was right at the back of his throat.

Aaron met his gaze again, but he didn’t give him the courtesy of returning it, eyes stuck to the ground.

“…There sumn’ you’re not tellin’ me?” Aaron asked.

Miles just shrugged, bottom lip freeing itself with the lingering sting of his teeth. There was probably a lot more than there should be that he hadn’t told his uncle.

Walking over to the drawer, he pulled out the dusty old case file. It had tattered corners and the paper had a weird feel to it, like it was from a long time ago: 3 years, to be exact. It was an older case that had re-emerged some time ago — the last case his dad was involved in.

Flicking it open, he was met with all the reports and notes, ones he’d grown sick of seeing: “Unidentifiable suspect”, “vague circumstances” and “unverifiable” were some of the few reasons why. They weren’t going down the “typical” route of investigation, but it didn’t make it any easier that they could break down a few doors without a warrant.

For the past month, Miles had been searching for leads, clues, chasing down suspects of these missing person’s cases — all of them leading him right back to where he started. Every time he thought he was getting closer, he’d go back a hundred steps. Everything about this case lacked any sense of logic; people would disappear without any sort of reason, completely by random. There was no pattern to these cases, except for the fact that whatever circumstances that surrounded them were vague and undetailed.

No name, no face, no form. But he’d finally managed to catch the fish at the end of the hook, following someone who had yet to go missing: a certain scientist at Oscorp industries, who worked in robotics and hadn’t been seen for 24 hours, but showed up to work the next day somehow.

That man had followed another scientist — Mendel Stromm — only to come back in his body. Miles had let it happen, out of necessity, he thought — to finally see what was going on. And he did, he saw the man transform into Stromm. He saw the man walk back into the laboratory and act as it nothing had happened.

And then, he saw you.

You. He wasn’t blaming you for this, was he? No, it wasn’t your fault, you just happened to be… in severe danger.

Miles could’ve prevented this, had he not been so desperate — so conflicted. He could’ve texted you back, told you to stay away from Oscorp instead of typing and deleting the same awkward replies late at night.

And he was supposed to go back to school and see you, and do that job fair with you, right after he’d saved— Right after you saved yourself — from the Prowler. From him.

“You alright?” Miles whipped his head around to see Aaron looking at him, a slight hint of concern in his face.

“Yeah—” He stopped himself from saying sorry. “Gonna head home.”

Miles pushed the drawer shut, feeling the eyes of the people he’d left behind on him — more recently, Mendel Stromm. He wondered if they blamed him just as he blamed himself.

As he walked back to his apartment, he slipped on his jacket — Uncle Aaron’s jacket. He even felt guilty for wearing it, damn it.

Shutting the door and world outside behind him, he took a hesitant glance at the shoe rack. His mom’s shoes were missing.

“Took an extra shift. Dinner’s in the microwave. Tqm!" (Ily!)

“Y yo te quiero,” (And I love you) he mutters to himself, careful not to crease the note between his fingers.

At least she’d never find out. His mom would be off work soon, so he’d get to spend time with her, hopefully. He was just busy himself, with school starting again next week, the job fair, a million different quizzes, meetings with the guidance counsellor…

His dad’s anniversary was right in-between that.

Miles folded up the note, and then tossed it in the trash. All he wanted to do was go to sleep, but he hadn’t done any of his work for the winter break.

So, with a deep breath, he headed to his room, sitting at his desk. Miles tried to ignore the numerous sketches of his own gear, and half-finished faces as he tried looking for a pen in his drawers.

One drawing caught his eye, a familiar face. Well, it wasn’t exactly a face. It wasn’t finished yet, but he could picture the way it’d look if it were finished. It was “a friend”, he’d practised telling himself in case his mom decided to clean his room without telling him — you, without an expression but the curve of your cheek and the start of your hair he’d been so focused on instead of your eyes whenever he’d talked to you.

“~Ain’t no love… and it’s sure ‘nuff a pity…”

As he opened his notebook, faint music played from his phone, in an attempt to get him to focus. Still, he wondered if you’d find it weird that he drew you, how you’d look at him if you ever knew about it.

Miles wondered how you’d look at him if you knew he was the one at Oscorp — The Prowler.

“Guys, I don’t think he’s coming.”

“No shit!” The sound of laughter burst out in the room. All you could do was sigh, head on your desk.

Winter break had gone faster than you’d expected, especially given the amount of time you spent in the police station. They asked you the same questions, over and over and over, until you started to doubt your own memory. It was probably necessary, to prove you weren’t lying, or something, but it was exhausting, and you were just glad it was over.

“Why were you in Oscorp to begin with?”

“Do you remember the exact time it was before he left?”

“Are you certain it was Dr. Stromm that walked in?”

“You’re sure?”

You didn’t want to think about it, and you didn’t need anyone else to know either. It was better to pretend nothing happened, and that you’d had a productive break like everyone else apparently did. Bunch of try-hards.

The problem now, though, was that Mr. Wellston thought it’d be a good idea to disappear on you right before your midterm. He was supposed to finish teaching integration by now, but your class was far from — and of course, it was coming up on the exam.

You didn’t have a supply teacher either, though that was a good thing. Maybe Wellston would get fired, you’d get a new calc teacher, and all would be right in the world. But for now, you had to deal with these overly-pretentious people you called your classmates, (and always seemed to be okay with Wellston’s incompetence for some reason) talk about how easy the exam was gonna be, and about the homework that Mr. Wellston never checked anyway, and about college — because all anyone ever cared about here was getting into an Ivy. Maybe you should’ve just gone to public school. You pushed that thought back before you could seriously started to consider it.

Instead, your thoughts went to the person slouched at the desk next to you: Miles, the kid that had suddenly lost all interest in talking to you entirely. It wasn’t just the boredom of having Calc BC last period, too. For one, he’d never try to start conversations anymore, and two, you couldn’t even hold a conversation with him if you wanted to. When you greeted him in the hallway today, he just walked past, not even bothering to look at you. Maybe he hadn’t been busy over winter break like you thought — he’d just been ignoring you.

“Bro, that’s Principal Evans! Shut up!”

You squinted your eyes, heart dropping as you saw the Principal advance down the hallway, right towards your class. Miles didn’t move at all. In fact, he looked like he was… asleep?

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

“Miles…!” you whisper-shouted, shaking his shoulder to no avail.

Sighing, you thought about slapping him for a moment before deciding against it, shaking his shoulder it a second time, The boy got up with a start.

“Huh…? Wha… what? What do you want?”

“Prin… ci… pal..!” you mouthed, furrowing your brows at him and pointing to the door.

“Oh, damn…” He stifled a yawn, rubbing his eyes before straightening up on his chair. As much as Miles liked to annoy teachers, anyone would quickly come to learn that annoying Principal Evans was a death wish — from both her, and your parents.

As he fixed up, you caught a glimpse of his face for the first time today. So much for promising to not look at him. Exhausted wasn’t enough to describe it — he looked like he’d gone to war, or something. At least you’d managed to sleep well enough, without dreaming about Oscorp. Count your blessings, I guess.

You didn’t have much time to relish in your few blessings, though, as the tall, well-dressed woman stopped by the door. She peered in, before her brows knitted together, opening the door.

“Y’all don’t have a teacher?” she said, in that quick, strong voice that put you all on edge. Some of you had the confidence to mutter a “no.” or shake your head. “Who are you supposed to have?”

She shook her head as your class answered, pulling out her phone.

“Gimme one second. I don’t care if the period’s almost over. Fifteen minutes of class is fifteen minutes of class…”

You held back the urge to sigh again. If Wellston showed up, he’d probably force you all to stay back an hour and “catch up”. That, and you had the careers fair to help out with right after this period. The door closed again as Principal Evans took a call outside, and you let your eyes shut.

“Hey Martin, I’ve got a class here that…” Her voice fading into the background and your class starting to murmur again, you opened your eyes, only to catch Miles’ gaze just for a second.

“What?” you said, looking at him, though it came out a little too confrontational.

“What?” he mirrored back, though it came out a little too much like a statement. Miles — always good at making you feel stupid, you supposed.

“What’s up with you today?” you started, deciding it was better to bite the bullet.

“Nothing. Why?” Maybe not.

“Are you going to the careers fair…?”

“I kind of have to.” You probably should’ve slapped him when you had the chance.

“…Yeah, but—”

“Alright! Silence!” Principal Evans was at the door, holding it open with her foot. “Nobody’s comin', so y’all gotta do some work until the bell. I do apologise.”

There was a little commotion as people “got to work”, and you shot Miles one last glare before pretending to be interested in the notebook you’d had closed all period.

And so, fifteen minutes passed by with the sound of scribbling next to you, and when you stubbornly tried to peek, his arm just had to be in the way.

A lot was in the way between you two, it felt like. So much for being friends.

The bell finally rang, and you stretched a little as people left, preparing yourself for another hour or two before you could go back to your dorm. At least you wouldn’t have to talk to Miles, you had… freshman to talk to. Maybe this was a learning opportunity — I hated freshman, but from participating in a careers event at my school, I learnt that they’re not just people I have to shove past to get into the cafeteria. At least you didn’t have to put that abysmal sentence in your college essay until next year.

The chair next to you screeched, making you jump a little. You stopped yourself from cursing under your breath, noticing Principal Evans still lingering by the door. She was ushering the last people out, a crease between her brows.

“What class is this?” Her voice was directed at you, you realised.

“Calc BC,” you replied.

“Calc BC…” She seemed to emphasise every sound as she talked, as if she was thinking about something important. “Well aren’t you a bright bunch?” You managed a tiny smile, feeling like you weren’t a part of that “bunch” at the moment.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but… do you know what happened to Mr. Wellston?” you asked, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. You couldn’t believe you were asking about him, but you really needed to figure out how you were gonna pass — and soon.

“I know as much as you do,” she shrugs, earrings swaying as she turns her head back to her phone. “If you wait, I might be able to find out for you. Is it urgent?”

“I mean…” you started, before you felt a slight nudge at your arm.

“We’re gonna be late.” Miles gave you an unreadable look, and for some reason you relented.

“It’s fine, Principal. Thank you.”

“Take care now.” She moved out of the way for you to leave, but before you did, she spoke up again. “Oh, and Miles — I’m already making arrangements, so expect me to call you up at some point.”

“Cool. I mean— okay, thanks,” he mumbled, starting to walk down the hall.

You followed, having to push to keep up among the many students that were moving past. Damn fast walkers…

Feeling the uncomfortable need to talk, you opened your mouth. “We’re going to the gymnasium, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When can we leave?”

“Like, 6pm, or something.” Great.

“That late? How long’s the fair?”

“Thought you’d know.” Oh, maybe.

“I would, if someone told me,” you huffed under your breath.

There was another stretch of silence between you, the school starting to empty as you walked towards the other side where the gymnasium was. Miles didn’t have his earphones in, so there wasn’t much of an excuse for you to be ignored. Somehow, that made you feel less confident to speak.

“How was your break…?” you tried. He was unresponsive for a moment before shrugging.

“Boring.”

“...Yeah, same.” You didn’t sound very certain. The look he gave you made it clear he could tell. There was an uncomfortable pause that made you regret talking in the first place.

“…You okay?” he asked, suddenly.

“What?”

He took in a deep breath, looking at you more seriously. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… why?” You raised your brow at him, even if he couldn’t see.

“Don’t need a reason to ask.”

“I’m pretty sure you do.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“How the hell was that a rhetorical question?”

“That one’s rhetorical too.”

When you realised what he meant, you couldn’t help but smile slightly at the stupidity of your conversation. You thought you caught the corner of his mouth raise too.

“Good thing Ms. White doesn’t pick on you, then,” you joked.

“Watch it, I got an A in English.” The way he said it almost made you laugh. Almost. You wouldn’t give him that.

“Right. And what don’t you have an A in?”

“Calculus.”

“No way…” You gave him a dubious look. “Seriously?”

“A plus.” He was definitely holding back a smile.

“Shut up.” You held back your own smile, too.

The both of you made it to the halfway-point of the campus, where the greenery and outdoor seating was — the place where they’d take all the promotional pictures. If only they could maintain the rest of the school like that too. Though you had to admit, it was a nice day out for January.

Miles stayed silent as you walked. You decided to stay skeptical for now, but a part of you also really just wanted to get along with him. Better than being annoyed at his existence for the next 2 hours.

Maybe he’d just had a bad day — or a bad winter break. He’d been absent for a while, anyway. That wasn’t for no reason. Maybe he just had a lot on his plate. A lot to catch up with, especially.

“How are you getting As anyway? Haven’t you like… missed a lot of classes?”

“I guess.” He shrugged, and the setting sun made it clear that he looked more frazzled and tired than usual. His hair looked like it hadn’t been re-braided in a while, though you wouldn’t tell him that.

Still, when he squinted uncomfortably at the sunlight shining right in your direction, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes again. One was slightly more green, the other slightly brown, coppery flecks in each. They were barely distinguishable in the dim fluorescent light of the school, but you couldn’t help but stare.

He was damn pretty. He was everything, it seemed. Smart, interesting, unique, mysterious, good-looking… You cringed at the realisation that this probably wasn’t a normal thing to think about someone you were supposed to be mad at. Were you supposed to be mad at him…?

“Guess everyone that goes here is a genius huh?” you continued in a rhetorical fashion, a part of you hoping he’d made the same awful joke again,

“That include Rafael?” You pressed your lips together at the mention, stopping the laugh from forming.

“He’s…” you tried, and failed. “Definitely something.”

“You’re smart, though.” You almost stopped walking. He said it so quietly you almost thought you’d misheard.

“I am literally failing Calc.”

“You’re almost failing Calc,” he corrected.

“I will be failing Calc in a week’s time.” You might as well admit it. The thought of that exam next week was hopeless.

“You ain’t even that bad at it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s just practice.”

“Right, right, yeah. I’ll do that.” You didn’t sound very reassured. Miles didn’t seem to be in the mood for reassuring, either, shoving his hands in his pockets.

As you approached the gymnasium, you recognised more of those colourful, weirdly-designed posters, the ones you’d posted around school. Who even made those…?

Someone else was in the distance, walking around the corner. You did a double-take as you elbowed Miles.

“Hey, is that…?” You trailed off, the two of you stopping abruptly.

“The hell is he doing here?”

“No clue. Why’s he coming this wa—”

Suddenly, you felt yourself being pulled behind one of the pillars, and then directly facing Miles.

“What are you doing?!” you whisper-shouted.

“Just shut up for a sec…!” he whisper-shouted back, widening his eyes at you before peering past your less-than suitable hiding place.

His face was just a breath away from yours, arm blocking you from moving, or really seeing what he was so desperately trying to look at. Your heart was starting to thump in your ears, and you couldn’t find it in you to breathe, eyes fixed on his hand curled around your wrist for a moment before he let go, focusing on what was in the distance.

“Nobody’s seen him all day,” he mutters to you.

“Yeah, I know, but why are we hiding?”

“He’s— Just keep still.” He giving you a warning look, much like the one he gave Rafael — this time, with a hint of worry.

Deciding to keep your mouth shut, you dared to look past the pillar, just as he did.

There, approaching the gymnasium back door, was Mr. Wellston. The man came to a stop, walking awkwardly beside the wall, glancing around as if he was trying to avoid something.

In a split second, he disappeared behind one of the pieces of foliage. Miles stared hard, grabbing your arm and advancing the two of you closer. You were confused, before Miles’ grip on your sleeve tightened. Only then did you see it.

Almost seamlessly, Wellston disappeared, taking on the form of a police officer, yellow visitor’s badge around his neck — P.C. Williams, officer for the careers fair.

“Jesus Christ…” Miles muttered, eyes fixed on him, right until he went through the gymnasium doors.

You thought the exact same thing.

thanks for reading and soz for the VERY late update im literally being teabagged by my real life lol! lmk how u found it yasss like and subscribe hit that bell

reblogs super appreciated! go back to the series masterlist here or find the rest of my atsv stuff here!

my lovely jubly taglist: (ask in replies to join!) @noetophat @sakura-onesan @bakugouswaif @qiupachups @phoenixinthefiles @daydreaming-en-pointe @sp1derw1re @kvvrc @proudgojofucker @spam-1

#miles g morales x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles g morales #miles g #42!miles #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #atsv x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #vhstown

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bingusbongu · 1 year ago

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A/n: whoa!!!!! I didnt expect my sun and moon post to blow up in a day! Seriously yall- you guys are amazing- as a bew tumblr writer, it makes me really happy and want to continue! So, as a treat, i present to you......

SUN AND MOON IMAGINES!!!!!

May you enjoy your feast my children

IMAGINE you coming in early to work, clocking in just to see your favorite animatronic jester. You two were very close, and you found yourself wanting to spend more and more time with him

When you open the door to the daycare and call out to the jester, its almost immediate a response of 'SUNSHINE?!' and a happy 8ft tall robot sprinting towards you

He scoops you up into a hug, giggling and smiling with pure happiness, after you allowed Sun pick up hugs, he now picked you up every time you enter the daycare, and hugging you tightly, before letting lose and excitedly babbling how excited he is to see you, while not putting you back down on the ground. And you just listen to him list every idea he had for today and the little ones.

IMAGINE when the daycare opens, and the kids are playing and running around playing games and doing weird macaroni art. Sun couldnt keep his eyes off of you.

He would watch you tend to an argument that sparked between two kids and a toy. He would watch as you gently calm the situation down abd find a solution to make both kids happy. He dosnt even realize his rays spinning and his fans whirring until a kid points it out, and he is a flustered mess.

IMAGINE a kid walking up to you and Sun. You asked what the kid needed, and he just points up at Sun and flat out tells you that 'Mr Sun has a crush on you'

Sun becoming a stuttering mess as his fans kick in attempt to cool his system as he quickly tries to deny what the kid said, covering his mouth with his big robotic hand, as he giggles nervously

You couldnt help but giggle at the display of Sun frantically trying to get the kids from telling you that he had a huge crush on you. So, to make matters worse, you said 'oh i know, i like him too' before walking away to go deal with a macaroni art misshap

Sun standing there completely stunned as he watches you walk away. Feeling as if he completely had overheated, as his gears hummed loudly in his body and his sunrays spinning in an constamt speed

The kids wouldnt stop singing about Sun and You sitting in a tree

IMAGINE when naptime roles around, and the kids had grown tired of running around and teasing the poor daycare attendant. As they crawl into their little comfy cots in the napping corner, all snuggled into their blankets after you tucked each and one of them comfortably

as the lights flickered off, and the nightlights flickering on, Moon emerges ingo the corner with a hum. As he tries to settle the rest of the kids to bed, they beg him for a story. Moon, having no choice, grabs a childrens book from the little shelf they had and began to read to the kids

He would flip the book around so the kids could see the illustrations of the book while he reads out the words and acts out the voices, getting thekods laughing as they grow tired. Until the kids would start yawning and laying their heads down to rest

Lifting his head up from the book to make sure tge kids were okay, he noticed all of them sleeping peacfully. He was about to close the book, before he noticed you sitting infront of him with a gentle smile and your full attention on him, asking him to continue the book

He would stutter in suprise, preventing his voicebox from glitching as to not wake up the kids, and cleared his nonexistent throat to keep reading to you, looking up at you occasionally, just to see your face looking down at the book and moon. He couldn't help but feel his wires spark inside him every time you giggled at his hushed voices

IMAGINE Moon and you carefully leaving the naptime corner, so you two could talk without disturbing the little ones rest. In hushed voices, you both chat happily away while joking with one another

Moon absolutely adoring when he manages to get you to laugh at one of his stupid jokes. Admiring the smile on your face and how you grip your gut snd your other hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing to hard and keeping yoursel quiet

IMAGINE you and Moon playing a game together ad you liked to do during naptime. A simple game of hide and seek where you go hide, and moon crawls around to try and find you. The fastest he ever found you was ubder 5 minutes, because he could sense your heart pounding

Regardless, you get better abd better each time. Memorizing the play structures each time you did, and how to distract moon by pushing stuff over as a distraction for you to move poditions. You learned to keep moving and not stay in ons area for two long

But no matter what, Moon will always find you in the end, adding another win to his win streak smile. And of course, he teases the heck out of you for being third place(because Sun likes to participate)

And Moon alway snatching you out of your hiding spot and dragging you somewhere else, and youre used to it so you dont fight it

IMAGINE Moon huffing when he realized soon he should wake the kids so you and Sun could get them ready to go home, but he hates having his time with you ended.

So instead, he will sit on the floor with you as you both waited on time. His head in your lap as you pet his metal forhead in soothing circles. You dudnt know if Moon could feel it, but you still did it anyway. And, just with your touch, it makes his purrs vibrate even louder if it wasnt already. With the biggest smug grin on his mechanical mouth

IMAGINE after the Kids are woken up gently by the two of you, helping them fold up their blankets abd cots to make it all nice so its one less thing the attendant has to worry about

Moon will always grumble about not being happy that Sun gets more tims with you, but you reasure him that you always stay for awhile befoe heading home to spend time with your favorite jests

But, just a minute before the lights going out, you pressed a soft peck of a kiss on the Moon mans lips, causing him to freeze and his gears stopping for a moment in stunned silence. Before Moon could say something ot ask for more, youre already helping a kid and the lights back on

IMAGINE as Sun gives the last child to their parents, a big smile on his face as usual as the parents thank him and turn to take their kid back home with smiles on their faces.

Sun would sigh happily as he watched the family leaving, feeling a strong pain in his chest. Whipping his head around to make sure you were still there witg them. And of course, you're cleaning off the arts and crafts table He smiled in relief at the sight of you desprately trying to get glitter glue off of the table.

Before you knew it, you had arms wrapped around your waist and pulling you into another pick-up hug. Pressing your back to his face as he giggled happily. Praising you with compliments about how you were today with the kids. And of course, when you compliment him back, he gets so goddy and excited, he squeals and just hugs you tighter

Before your words came back into his mind, making his hands fidget as he held you, becoming less tighter than usual. And you noticed, asking him what was on his mind. He tried playing it off but gave up when you gave him that look

He gets all stumbly and tries ro express his words, but it only comes out as gibberish. The wirring of his fans not even helping the situation one bit. Trying to figure out how to ask you to give him a kiss like you did Moon

And thankfully for you, you almost immediately caught on and smiled softly, finding Suns actions adorable, making you giggle. Having to put your hand up and cup Suns cheek to get him to stop rambling and get him to focus on you.

Once you had his attention, you lean forward and press a kiss to tip of Suns metal lips, just as you did moon

_____________

Waaaa hope you enjoyed!!!! Sorry for my grammatically errors, i may be an American, but im not great with that

Have a good day/night!!!!!

Sun+Moon: *lovesick idiots*

Y/N: *just an idiot*

#sundrop #moondrop #fnaf #fnaf security breach #dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf moon x reader #imagines #reader insert #gender neutral reader #mi babiss #fnaf x reader #moon x reader #sun x reader

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 6 months ago

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Warning: Venting, moaning, and spoilers ahead. Enter at own risk.

You know, after watching 73 Yards I had a LOT that I wanted to write about. Stuff about the themes like abandonment, but also about science fiction vs fantasy, the need for answers vs the desire never to know, eerie atmosphere vs cool rationality, blah, blah, blah.

But I’m a week too late. That’s old news now, it’s Dot and Bubble time. And I don’t have the time and energy to say much except…

OMG! Did RTD always have such an unrelentingly bleak and cruel vision of human nature??? I mean, okay, we had a woman heroically staying to take care of babies in the goofy first ep, but we also had a world that would abandon a bunch of babies to die. And the last two episodes…

73 Yards depressed me in a way no Doctor Who ever has. I’ve seen every episode that still exists, seen the recons of the lost, listened to every Big Finish audio over it’s first 14 or so years, and read the “wilderness years” novels like popcorn. I mean, I have absorbed so damn many Doctor Who stories in every medium that I wouldn’t know how to count them. Some were dark. Some were depressing. Some were miserable in every way.

But this….

73 Yards made me wonder if there was no damn point in me keeping on living.

Ruby’s plight resonated far too deeply.

Alone and upset she makes the mistake of stepping of going into pub where the locals, in a display of cruelty **that reminded me why I never go into small local places, deliberately scared and then mocked her. Then her life gets soooo much worse as everyone she loves and everyone she turns to for help ends up turning on her. She isn’t merely abandoned, she is treated with complete disgust and with not even a hint of compassion to soften it. She is haunted by the “ghost” of herself, an embodiment of both a mistake of her past and her future death. This “ghost” becomes her only companion as her life speeds on to the always lonely grave. Every birthday is her all alone, no friends, no family, just her and her always distant “ghost” self. And then she grows old and “dies”. Always alone…

99% of my time is alone. I have no friends to turn to. Every friend I ever got close to ended up leaving me. Heck, even online friends always just go away without a trace. I’m in a rural area where the community I’ve lived my entire life had never made me feel included. Back in school once a year I’d get shunned for not being a Christian as they rediscovered it, and the rest of the time there was mere bullying, mocked and belittled, for all the other things that marked me as an outcast. My family were outcasts too, for that matter. My family, where Mom is the only one left who loves me, just a frail voice on a phone I can no longer reach out to. My brother has openly wished me dead and doesn’t want me setting foot in his home, telling me constantly how worthless and disgusting he finds me. Everyone else I’ve loved is dead or gone away. Every birthday is alone, and I’m increasingly aware I’m spiraling to my own death…

No one. Never anyone. Never able to make new friends. Doomed to isolation unto death. No friends. No family. No help. Just me and…..me.

Yeah, it got to me. Ruby gets a moment of using her pain for good, and the reward of a do over. But that’s fiction. My “ghost” self offers no chance to do good, and when I die I will simply rot away (or burn, if whoever gets stuck with disposal duty decides to cremate me. They’d probably just flush me down toilet if I would fit! LOL)

And I thought, ok, maybe that’s just me. Maybe most people won’t feel borderline suicidal as escapist entertainment rubs salt in very open wounds.

But then I thought about the harsh cruelty of the world in the story, the complete lack of warmth and hope. Hell, our heroine stands by and lets a young woman get (strongly suggested) abused by a man she KNOWS is a baddie simply because she needs to prove that that baddie is bad enough to deserve what she is about to do. So even Ruby is a terrible person deep down, tainted by a world devoid of love to the point of treating people as test subjects.

Okay, this is bleak stuff. Great episode, even if I am ambivalent about that all fantasy/no explanations take on Doctor Who.( It also joins things like Grave of the Fireflies on my “Great but NEVER watch again!” list. ) But it’s surely won’t be so dark next time.

Oh dear.

So in Dot and Bubble we get a world of the young and privileged living in their social media bubbles (oh, very subtle), completely unable to function in the real world to the point of being unable to walk.

Okay, that’s not bleak. A bit cynical and harsh, kicking an easy target, but dark comedy material. And the obnoxious gal we are following will surely come to her senses, learn to connect with people, will be grateful for help, and…

Oh. OH!

This is THAT kind of story. Where we are reminded that people are essentially selfish and shallow, where they do things against their own best interests out of things like snobbishness, and the one decent human being we meet is doomed to death by betrayal.

Okay, now the question is, which do I find bleaker. The “you are doomed to always be isolated” episode or the “most people don’t even deserve help” episode.

People complained about the ending of Boom being sappy, but TBH it was kinda a relief for Moffat to pop in and say “Ok, look, love will give you at least a pseudo happy ending now and then. Now don’t go slitting your wrists at the utter nastiness out there…”

And the RTD whispers “I’m not saying slit your wrists, I’m just saying that if you do no one will care. The hysterical laughter at snot monsters and musical diva gods is just the universe having a nervous breakdown in the dark, but that’s fun, isn’t it?”

I’m not saying I think these episodes are awful! Just to be clear, I’ve enjoyed stuff about all of them! I haven’t hated any of them (No, not even Space Babies with their poor little freaked out faces and ill fitting CG mouths creeping me out) And if you don’t feel depressed after these recent episodes I’m very glad. Really. I just wish I had YOUR brain!

It’s funny, after an era where I complained (quietly) about poor writing I am now complaining (loudly) about the horrible mood the better writing is putting me in!

Yes, I will keep watching, trying to hold onto whatever light I can in the darkness. But I can’t say I’m looking forward to being miserable every time. I’m not sure I’m actually having fun. My life sucks enough lately, and Doctor Who making me feel worse is something I NEVER expected to have to deal with.

**Note to self: be glad you can NEVER go to Wales! Yeah, my grandma had a penpal from Wales. It was a lovely old lady she met while they both rested on a bench in the Smithsonian Natural History Museum. I met her and she was quite nice, even as little me withered in shame hearing grandma, in her lifelong childlike innocence, tell an embarrassing detail about me. I rationally know people from Wales are just people. But after that pub scene…

#rambles #doctor who #73 yards #dot and bubble

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candywife333 · 1 year ago

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Seven Buckets of Love

Here is the SIXTH part of the JK-Seven Drabble series. These drabbles can be read out of order as stand alones but make more sense when read in order.

This is part of an entire Drabble series based on his recent music release.

Disclaimer: As usual, everything in the fic is fictional, and the behavior displayed by the character in the fic is obviously not representative of the real Jungkook.

Jungkook had been taking care of me for the past few days. He would go to his classes and then proceed to escort me nearly everywhere. It was as though he was basically living with me.

He treated me like a princess and wouldn’t even let me cook or clean around my dorm room, which shocked me to no end. He would always squeak in a ridiculously cheerful tone, “You need to rest and heal your downstairs baby. Healing and homework are your only priorities. Let me take care of the rest.”

I thought he would be moody or quieter based on what I had seen of his personality in college. But he was the exact opposite. Always cheerful. Smiling for no reason. Ridiculously helpful, even with tiny tasks like washing dishes. He loved doing laundry so much that I always had an excess of clean pairs of shirts and underwear folded on my bed by the time I came back from classes.

To my embarrassment, he insisted on licking me down every night for close to an hour. Trust me on this , a full hour. 60 minutes. I had timed it. I don’t know how he never failed to get tired. He just didn’t. If I would indicate to him that it was too much, he would just say, “But it's my passion. You are literally my wife to be. I have to do this for my life partner. Plus, I enjoy it so much you wouldn't even begin to understand my goddess. The taste of you on my lips is so good, I could never part with it.” As I stared at him, mortified, he continued in a lilting playful tone, “ And I need to do this to speed up your recovery, so we can make love again. It has been so hard controlling myself. But I know that I need you to first be healed before I try anything”.

He never talked about how he made me orgasm so many times, that he made me blackout for a few minutes every time. He insisted the ritual was for healing, but I knew that it was more for himself than for me. He felt he had to convince me to keep him. We were working on that. I kept telling him that he was enough, making him verbalize at least 10 of all the wonderful qualities about himself at the end of the day.

I could tell that his self esteem and confidence was increasing, because he didn't randomly apologize unnecessarily for every minute thing anymore. We had been dating for just close to two weeks and he had already became a constant in my life.

One day both of us had gotten back late from classes and work and I couldn't find any clean pajamas in my basket. So I decided to just wear a long oversized t shirt with a pair of clean underwear. I wasn’t thinking much of anything as I sat down on my bed ready to doze off after cleaning up. Thank god we had eaten out before coming back to the dorm.

As I fluffed the pillows, getting ready to settle in, he came out of the bathroom. HOLY CRAP! OH MY GOD! It’s as though my ovaries discombobulated and my brain turned to oatmeal. He had been hiding his divine self for this long? How had he not been pounced on yet by every girl in college?

He came out of these shower with water tracking down his abs, dripping wet black hair pushed up and plastered against his forehead, and just one white towel framing his sharp hip bones. I shouldn’t be feeling all this right now. We had agreed to wait for a while to initiate anything truly sexual again.

I grunted in fake disdain and told him, “Please put on a shirt”. He looked at me wide eyed as he noticed my fidgeting legs rubbing against themselves. My core was throbbing and I did not know what to do about it. He was so hot, and I had to find some way to relieve this agony without him finding out. I quickly sketched a plan to sleep on the pull out sofa while he took the bed. We needed distance tonight, otherwise a calamity might happen.

I bit out, “Hey Jungkook I will be sleeping in the main hall on the sofa tonight. I need some more ventilation. You can take this bed, okay?” I got off the bed and started walking towards the main hall when I felt the tell tale sign of two iron ropes loop around my waist, lifting me into his arms. His towel had fallen down. Oh, hell NO! I covered my face, “What the hell are you doing Jungkook? Let me down, I’m going to go sleep”.

He dropped me onto the bed once again and started removing my panties even as I struggled to lock my legs together. I couldn't even process his movements as he pushed my shirt up all the way to my collarbones and pushed me onto my hands and knees. And then I felt an utterly unexpected slap on my butt. He continued massaging my wet slit as he slapped my ass occasionally, making me bow down in pain.

“No, Y/N, you listen here. I know you have recovered. I made sure you have by drinking from you every single day of the week. And now, you are not getting away from me today Princess”. His alternating slaps stung, serving as a contrast to his ardent rubbing of my sopping wet folds. I could feel myself get closer to the edge as he continued rubbing my wet flesh, making my body flush in warmth.

“Now, you are going to take it like a good girl sweet heart. Relax for me”, he crooned darkly as I felt his member sink into my heat. I had forgotten how thick and long it was. His warm hands gripped my hips as he slammed into my heat placing wet kisses and nipping down my spine. He pumped into me, hitting all the spots inside, making me arch my back in satisfaction. He took my right hand and without me even noticing til a minute later, he had slipped a diamond ring onto my ring finger.

I moaned and mewled till I noticed the ring. “Jungk-k-k-ook, what is this? What are you trying to do to me?” He replied confidently as he continued to slam into me in a frantic rhythm, “You are the one for me. I am not going to lose the most valuable person in the world. I have to lock you down before any other man does.” He kissed along the nape of my neck, licking my sweat as he continued hammering into me. Before I could even recall, I felt my eyes flash with white as the energy drained out of my body and clear fluid squirted from me onto the sheets below. He filled me completely till streams of his cum were escaping out onto my thighs.

I mumbled in a tired voice, “You didn’t even bother to ask me if I wanted to be your fiancé?” He responded in an unfamiliarly cocky tone, “You wouldn't have called me the love of your life when I was eating you out two days ago otherwise, would you sweetheart?” I scoffed at him in disgust. “Well maybe I should take back my offer if this is how you are going to act”. I turned away from him on the bed to sleep peacefully.

He drawled in a smooth voice, “No take-backsies my queen. There is no going back from this. Now, let me finish pumping seven more loads of myself into you and then we can call it a night”.

“JUNGKOOK, ARE YOU TRYING TO LITERALLY PUT ME IN A COFFIN AND SEND ME TO MY EARLY GRAVE?! DO YOU WANT TO MARRY A CORPSE OR A HUMAN?!”

#SEVEN #reader x jungkook #plus size reader x jungkook #chubby reader x jungkook #smut #comedy #jungkook seven #seven jungkook #body worship #chubby reader #y/n x bts #chubby reader x bts

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melancholy-marionette · 6 months ago

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Hi! How are you today?

You've likely already been asked this, but what do you use to make visual novels? How did you learn to do it? All the ones you make are so cool!!! 💖

Heya! I would say 'tired' is probably the main way I feel today xD I’ve been staying up until 4am again recently and forcing myself up again at 8:30am trying to make up for lost time on the jam that I’m currently taking part in with Lazy Polar Bear x3 (otome/josei jam)

We even tried our best to plan some stuff in advance so that we could have a chilled-out jam for once, but the world had other plans it seems, haha. We've both been hit by a fair bit of bad luck, so I’m pushing myself in the hope we’ll still be able to release a demo in time for the end of the jam. Energy drinks are very much my friend atm x3

I’m so sorry it’s taken me forever to answer anyhow! I’m still majorly behind on pretty much everything >.< so most of my replies are at snail speed, haha. It doesn’t help that my PC died at the end of April, and trying to get a new one has been a nightmare :(

I knew it was on its way out for a while, so I’d been saving up + making sure to regularly backup data (thankfully, I don’t think I lost too much!) Managed to scrape together enough to get a new one, but when it was delivered, something was wrong with it >.< The first time I powered it on, there was a super loud scraping sound from a fan or something, and it threw up some BIOS error stuff instead of booting Windows.

I contacted the company, and they arranged to collect it & rebuild it for me, which took a while to do. Just had the rebuilt one delivered this week, but there’s still something not quite right about it :( It takes over 1 minute to boot up from pressing to power on (for reference, my PC that died was over 10 years old and booted up in about 10 seconds!) The 4th time I powered the new one on, it lit up inside, but never displayed anything. I gave it 5 minutes, but still nothing, so had to hit the reset button on the case.

Aaaand, one of the hard drives scans show it’s temperature is 68 degrees while the PC is idle, which doesn’t seem good >.< Neither does how hot the processor and graphics cards are showing on temperature readings when idle. As far as I can tell though, all the fans are working fine!

Still in contact with support trying to find out what is going on :( Which is not what I need while trying to work on a jam project, haha.

Anyways, I’m so sorry for the giant ramble there!! To actually answer your question x3 I don’t think I’ve been asked it that much actually! Maybe only like once or twice :3 The first couple of VNs I made were made with Tyranobuilder cos that was the first thing I came across that seemed easy to use, and it was :D I did try Ren’Py first, but after completing a few tutorials and making a demo project, I hated having to do code stuff so much that I knew it would make me not want to make a full game if that was how I had to do it >.<

I got Tyranobuilder in a Humble Bundle years ago, and it claimed you could make VNs from scratch without writing a single line of code because it used a drag & drop system, so I figured I’d give it a shot! It definitely did what it said on the tin :3 I made my first-ever game with it (Solipsism Reigns) + another one after that (Impostor) before switching to something else. (well, there was also the CiQ demo too, but that's irrelevant now that the game is being made in Nani!)

I think I read a couple of basic tutorials for Tyrano, but it was honestly all really easy to get going with by just poking around in there and seeing what did what, haha.

Besides those first couple of games, everything else I’ve made has been using Naninovel in Unity. I’d say Nani took longer to get started with, but the tutorials are vast and very detailed, so that was a big help. I also managed to get it while it was on sale, so that was a relief since it’s quite expensive full price.

I switched for a couple of reasons. One being that the drag & drop system in Tyrano was fantastic for a beginner like me, but also quite slow, so once I’d grown a bit more confident with how things worked, I figured something like Naninovel with an easy-to-understand scripting language would probably allow me to work faster!

The other big reason was because of how buggy Tyrano seemed to be >.< There were a lot of issues in it that didn’t seem to be having fixes worked on by the software devs at the time (I believe they have since updated it though!) And it was just frustrating to discover there was the odd bug in my game that I couldn’t fix because it was caused by something in the software itself that I hadn’t even touched.

I’ve stuck with Naninovel because it’s definitely easy to use, has a tonne of brilliant guides, and the support on Discord has always been exceptional whenever I’ve needed help on how to do something :3 There’s still a lot about it that I don’t know how to use or little gripes I have with it here and there, but overall, I do prefer it to Tyrano. Nothing is ever gonna be perfect.

It does make collaborating difficult sometimes though because Ren’Py is still the most commonly used tool for making VNs I guess. So if you want to work with people to do code and stuff, and 1 only has knowledge of Ren’Py while the other only has knowledge of Nani’s scripting language and what Nani can do, it’s like you’re speaking two completely different languages when it comes to trying to understand each other x3

If I didn’t have to write code, I would probably use Ren’Py xD It’s just, while I still dislike having to type thousands of lines of Naniscript, I find it at least manageable without getting the world’s biggest headache, haha.

I’m glad that you think the stuff I make turns out cool though! :3 That means a lot ^-^ I always kinda feel like an impostor when it comes to everything I do in game dev just cos I never had any proper training or education >.< I guess a lot of VN devs are probably self-taught though! It is fun to figure things out yourself by trial and error, but I’m sure I must be doing heaps of stuff wrong xD or at least in ways that aren’t exactly the most efficient x3 I muddle through though :D

Hope you are well + that May is turning out to be a marvellous month for you! Or at the very least, that you have had better luck than me lately, haha.

#answered asks #indie dev #game development #game dev stuff

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crucioslut · 11 months ago

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[ answer ] your muse answering a question meant for mine .

The slytherin common room was a delicious little retreat away from the blistering cold just on the other side of the window. Outside, the wind howled with abandon and wet snowflakes blanketed the view, making it hard to even make out the night sky. Inside the students were kept warm by the crackling fire place in their heavy winter robes, hot cups of steaming tea warming their fingers. Bellatrix Black lay quietly, lounged on the sofa beneath the window with her head propped up. Several books on "Defense Against the Dark arts" stacked on the floor neck to her, an open book rest at her knees while she scribbled notes down with an unusual rapid speed. The hottest music of a defiant crowd in the Wizarding world at the time played. Heavy guitar and drums. It was new and exactly the kind of thing a pureblood teenager's parents would absolutely loathe. Bellatrix loved it for that reason alone. The gentle acts of rebellion she could indulge herself in without letting what was important slip from her grasp. Rodolphus sat in the arm chair next to her, enthusiastically fixated on his own studies. They didn't speak when they were working. Unlike most, the pair had very real goals that they knew they'd need to dedicate their last few years at hogwarts to in order to acheive. Deja Vasilyev, a russian witch in Bella's year who was new to Hogwarts that year entered the room and Bella's gaze rose from her books to the interuption, watching as Deja sat herself down and began speaking to Rodolphus in a thick accent. Deja had chestnut hair, hazel eyes and rosy cheeks. And one hell of a rack too. She smelled like sweet cherry blossom. At first she spoke to Rod about the upcoming test, but it didn't take long for the conversation to become much more personal, and Bellatrix looked at her fiance with an amused half-smirk, rolling her eyes. Yes she'd seen this many times before. It never ceased to amaze her how much these girls took to Rodolphus Lestrange. Sure, he wasn't bad to look at. But was that truly all it took for a man to be desirable? For all Deja knew he could have been a total imbecile. But Bella said nothing, observing the scene before her silently from behind her books, paying close attention to how Rodolphus reacted to her. "What are your plans for the rest of the weekend once you're finished studying?" The russian girl asked, her eyes shining and a big, inviting smile on her lips. "Tomorrow night a few of us are visiting Hogsmeade to see the light display!" She explained, excitedly. "I've never seen it before, only heard of it. I've only just moved to England this year. Afterwards we'll stop for butter beer! I wondered if you'd like to come with." She was so wonderous and hopeful, and innocent. So genuine. it was sickeningly sweet. Finally, Bellatrix spoke up, lowering the book before Rodolphus had a chance to reply. "That's a very nice offer. I'm afraid we'll likely spend the rest of the weekend ravenously fucking." Bella said casually, not breaking eye contact with the the other witch. "Every which way. Doing things you've never even read about." Deja's eyed widened before her face flushed deep red. "This time of year can be very stressful, you know." Bellatrix continued, there's oh so much at stake. Helps to even things out." Bellatrix licked her lips, closing her book and sitting upright. "But tell you what, if I can fight him off of me for long enough, I'll send him right to you. How's that sound?" Bella smiled and tilted her head curiously. @rodolphus-lestrangex

#belladolphus #these whores love roddy #rodolphus lestrange #bellatrix lestrange #harry potter rp

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grelleswife · 1 year ago

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Villainous Nobles road trip

Since Vin’s record is quite spotty (he’s accrued a slew of traffic violations while on Watchdog business), Diedrich insists on driving because he doesn’t trust his boyfriend behind the wheel. In exchange, Vincent offers to ride shotgun and read the map, rationalizing that they should do this “the old-fashioned way” to get the proper road-trip experience.

“To get us lost, you mean,” grouses Diedrich.

“Like I said, Dee—the road-trip experience!”

Sure enough, they’re lost within the first twenty minutes. Diedrich upbraids Vincent for becoming so reliant on the GPS system that he’s forgotten how to follow a map. Vincent maintains that he can read it just fine and doesn’t need those silly electronics; Dee’s simply a bad listener. Rachel teases them both but also does her best to smooth the pair’s ruffled feathers. The home-baked goods she packed further help to lighten the mood, although no one besides Undertaker is interested in the group sing-a-long she attempts to start up (Dee winces at the mortician’s loud, off-key caterwauling). Angelina languidly reclines next to her sister while flipping through the medical journals and fashion magazines she brought for reading material, FaceTiming Grelle (her wife’s stuck at work supervising Ronald), and doing her makeup. She accidentally smears lipstick across her face when Dee hits a large pothole that jolts the whole minivan. The doctor spends the next quarter of an hour upbraiding Diedrich for his “bloody careless driving,” even though Vincent was partially responsible for telling him to turn left down the sketchy dirt road. They make a brief stop at a dilapidated gas station to refuel, but inadvertently leave Chlaus behind while he’s perusing the display of kitschy souvenirs. Realizing their mistake a few miles out, the group speeds back to pick him up and discover that he’s bought out half the store (Dee did not anticipate him purchasing that much tourist merch; thus, the minivan is a tad more cramped than before). By this point, they’re completely clueless about where they are and how far away their destination is. Vincent cheerfully insists that they aren’t lost, merely on a leisurely detour. Dee snaps that Vin can go take a leisurely hike the rest of the way if he knows so much. Undertakers interrupts to offer his companions dog-bone biscuits and a thermos of weak, lukewarm tea, both of which are turned down with varying degrees of politeness.

“Ah, well…more for me, then! He he he,” he giggles. As he crunches his way through the biscuits, crumbs spray all over the floor and seats, causing Diedrich’s eyebrow to twitch at the thought of the eventual cleanup. The situation goes from bad to worse when the van hits a sharp rock at just the right angle to puncture one of the tires. Alas, the remainder of Undertaker’s tea is sent flying in the chaos, soaking the upholstery, causing Diedrich to question the purpose of his own existence. Luckily, Rachel learned a thing or two about car mechanics from Grelle (they’re BFFs as well as sisters-in-law), and thus replaces the flat with their spare. Vin and Diedrich both simp over how cool their wife/girlfriend is. Meanwhile, Lau, who has spent the entirety of the trip gaming on his Nintendo DS, neko ear headphones firmly in place, ambles off into the woods without anyone noticing. When he turns up missing during the head-count, a frantic search ensues, culminating in Angelina finding him dozing in the branches of a tree.

“I couldn’t catch a wink of sleep with the way our English Watchdog and German hound were barking at each other,” Lau yawns.

By this point, Diedrich is on the verge of ripping his hair out, and even Rachel pointedly remarks that now would be a good time to admit defeat and turn to the trusty GPS.

“It’s past 4, dear,” she adds in tones laden with sugar-coated wrath.

“Five more minutes, Rachel, and we’ll be back on track!” Vincent chuckles nervously.

Having found a crumpled piece of paper wedged between the seats, Lau and Undertaker begin a game of tic-tac-toe.

At precisely that moment, Vin’s cell phone starts playing “Ride of the Valkyries”—the ringtone for France’s number. Suspecting that her brother would make a muck of this vacation, Frances, who stayed behind to attend to family obligations, used the tracking on his phantomPhone to ascertain that the nobles are 200 miles south of their intended destination.

“What in God’s name are you playing at?!” she roars, voice fading in and out due to poor reception.

“…taking the scenic detour?” he timidly replies.

“Vincent…” Rachel says through gritted teeth.

Examining the other side of the paper currently serving as a battleground for his tic-tac-toe championship, Lau serenely waves it in the air to attract the others’ attention.

“Oh, look,” he purrs. “I think this is the map we were supposed to be following the whole time.”

“VINCENT PHANTOMHIVE!!!” rages Diedrich.

Needless to say, it’s quite some time before the band of rogues attempts another group trip.

#kuro asks #kuroshitsuji #vincent phantomhive #diedrich #rachel phantomhive #angelina dalles #madame red #chlaus #undertaker #lau #vindeechel #vindee #vinchel #redcliff #i had way too much fun with this 😂

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spikeinthepunch · 1 year ago

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okayyy i finished the new ending in Lisa the Joyful so yeah, heres another long Lisa post. this will more so have a short list of what i did and didnt like of the game since i know opinions are often mixed. but ill have a long focus talking about the new content compared to the rest of the game. and will later go on about characterization and writing in detail.

Also while you can find a no commentary video for the new ending, almost all uploads skip an earlier portion of it, so I uploaded it myself! with timestamps.

TW for uhh the same triggers- sexual, physical, verbal abuse mostly.

SO OKAY. Okay.

The brief on the main game....

What I did like:

I like the general story. I enjoyed the horror of watching more and more joy mutants arriving, even some of the warlords being joy mutants already, and normal characters like the uhh shelf vendor guy being a mutant. additionally things like wearing a mask mattering. i think it was important to too still have some weirdos bc thats one of the key things in displaying the cycle of these men's behavior. music always good too of course. i enjoy Buddy's internal conflict too and i dont mind here characterization-- its just the pacing. I actually liked the epilogues a bit more than what the endings actually told us lol... tbh they carry more weight in terms of giving us information about the past. But the ones that hit hardest are the ones where Lisa tells Buzzo to mutilate her so her father wont want her anyways. and the one with Brad's father forcing him to drink alcohol and go with him to lisa's room (to presumedly watch his father abuse lisa).

What i didn't like:

the "original" endings (not the new definitive one) were weak and i am sure most feel that way. I think actually the issue for me is the choice... cuz playing with joy? well i think the "stay with them" makes sense as she gets more fucked up and unstable (and assume addicted). the joyless route makes me feel like i should fittingly take the "leave them" ending bc she is mentally aware enough to know she still hates what happened to her and wants to leave them behind. the choices of them feel conflicting to the routes you might choose but you dont think about it bc there is no consequence to taking joy! the pacing of course is a big complaint. cuz see i dont think the story or writing is horrible i just think it needed to be longer in order to expand on all those things rushed through. the ideas would feel good if the pacing didnt speed through it. the Yado epilogue is fine too but i think just left more questions than answers than the endings themself so i would have rather done without it imo.

As stated i will go WAY more into the characters after I talk about this new stuff. I will talk heavily about what happens in it too so feel free to read this later if you dont watch it... but you really should look at the new Painful and Joyful content as they also kinda go together.

NEW CONTENT..... kind of new ending, it plays directly into it. Unlike Painful where it doesnt alter the actual ending content. and i will go over the normal endings a bit more in relation to this bc of how it affects pacing etc...

So On one hand I like what it added and on the other hand it wasnt great-- which all plays into the games already existing pacing issues. Which is a shame. i liked collecting the items, the meaning of the statues (n the dialog being the same as the Painful one), and the exploration leading up to the warlord fight. I chose not to fight the warlords because they were so damn strong and I like that there was recognition for not fighting back. Idk if i feel like there was a good reason for them to be there but I think it at least gives more meaning to the warlords since they didnt DO that much in the game other than to be killed. Most had barely anything to say.

For the bigger Secret at the grave for Lisa-- I liked this a lot too actually. Getting to hear from the guys their thoughts about Buddy that is from the assumed context theyre already dead here (w how Sticky's death is mentioned esp) is just kinda nice. The further content with Berny and Dusty, where Berny tells him to fight harder and to treat girls with aggression.... yeah that hits. The cycle of abuse really just continues huh. The rest of it is fine, I feel like it does give some better commentary on character's thoughts but it is quite short, and is left on a more metaphorical note with the flowering skull and whatnot.

Now is the part I see more conflict on AGAIN and I dont blame people for being conflicted about it. I didnt mind the way Buzzo talked about Brad in the original-- I dont think that writing was an actual excuse to Brad, I think it was just Buzzo trying to blame himself instead for everything (the new contents dialog with the sticky/rick/cheeks also had good to say on Brad's behavior and not excusing it but talking about the abuse of drugs in the context of that). I did feel that the conversation wasnt enough in the original though, to fully imply that he was talking like that or to give a better conversation on drug abuse. Buuut here we are w the extended new dialog with Buzzo. I did like how he started getting more depressed and angsty about Lisa! And the comment "she would have loved it here" is interesting bc i feel the implication is that she would have loved being in a world where all these men are now gone. but let me move onto the rest bc like, that matters the most here.

woof okay. So Buddy goes off when Buzzo says that which i get. However this conversation falters in the same way the whole game does. Buddy gets a LOT of talking time here. And she kind of keeps going in a way that really doesnt feel plausible you know? The new stuff added more connection between her and Lisa but its not enough to make us think she should be defending Lisa. I think there couldve been a neat exploration of all this comparing to Lisa but Joyful doesnt have that time. While I cant claim it, Buddy's rant kiiinda feels like a rant from behind the scenes with how less in character it feels. Buzzo is made far more pathetic and I don't disagree with this realization that he'd dissolve into a little pathetic man, again the game just doesnt have the time to make it work better.

and dont even get me started on Buddy's inconsistent opinion on Brad... this is like, annoying and I mentioned it in relation to the ending choices. After this new dialog rant Buddy sounds like she is forgiving Brad/coming to realize things about him that gives her more understanding. And i think that is fine BUT the issue is that right after talking to Buzzo the game returns as normal and when she sees mutant Brad approach, she reacts with genuine upset at seeing him and comments how she never wanted to see him again :/

I know at this point there is no way they could have "salvaged" Joyful for this release-- that would be too much and I dont think itd be right to get rid of the old endings entirely (Painful didnt, nor did the new content change anything about it). Its a shame- some of it was good. some of it i think they just shouldnt have done (the end buzzo fight) because it just conflicted more/kind of highlights the pacing problems. if anything i think leaving out that buzzo rant would have made the rest of that feel like it did help the pacing because it gave a pause between the ending of the game. anyways.

CHARACTERIZATIONNNN

righto. i think i covered pacing enough so i will try and leave that out of every comment i make here lol.

So like, I dont have a problem with Buddy's intentions in the game exactly. Her actions in many ways make sense... at least I would say that its fine she is very violent. That is literally the main thing Brad taught her whether or not you look at the start scene of Joyful, it reflects in how she would always be told how dangerous the world is too. The pace of course, makes this all happen so fast.

And of course the biggest hit that I think turns off many is how much talking there is. I certainly love hearing more from characters, Brad was quiet because he was brad, yet no one else needs to be quiet too so i think thats fine. But with Buddy's life it seems like she should have been quiet until her mental state and mindset shifted due to her treatment and justification of violence. even in Painful she seems relatively quiet and Joyful takes place right after pretty much.

In terms of others-- Rando is fine, like hes not that bad. We didn't know him all to well and what we know of Dusty i expected him to be a nice kid, esp w the whole adopted thing. But his back and forth with Buddy was more annoying w how short the game was (doing things, wanting to run to the other place and being stopped for a scene at the campfire by force. repeat.) I did like the whole deal with his friends and later his death too. Buzzo so i dont completely hate buzzo minus the fast jump in the new content. but he was pretty unhinged in Painful and to see it completely drop seemed wrong. i do think it make sense he probably felt loads of guilt for brad... but we just again, didnt get enough time with these characters.

Other characters? Well i mentioned it above but the warlords did NOT get much of any character. Which sucks bc if those parts alone had been extended (their area being longer or more full of interactions) i think it would have helped the game too. In terms of the other antagonist, Bolo, considering he was new for this game I think he was just fine. His role was small in a good way and honestly when he did appear it was for good moments that worked. The whole scene with him, Rando, and Buddy where Buddy tries to save Rando was probably my favorite part lol? Simply bc i think it worked well for all of their characters. For all of them I think it was my favorite moment of characterization-- Buddy's choices to drop or hold him both work for her i think. And yikes, disgusting moment with Bolo. And I will be real, I think Joyful needed that. The game was short so i wouldnt have wanted more but, Painful had it uncomfortable and gross moments and I think that is important to an extent of really pushing the importance of narrative and experiences of Buddy (and reflecting Lisa).

uhhhhh yeah i think thats most of what I can say. iirc i wasnt around for the old kickstarter but Joyful was a stretch goal right? and i heard Austin isnt exactly happy with it either? its really really a shame that it was a stretch goal that felt forced. I get why it was a tempting goal for people but.... it just sucks bc its clear that is why this game turned out the way it did. i wonder often if him not doing much else with the series is simply bc joyful had to be the "conclusion" and its not one hes exactly happy with either. tbh the series could have just been Painful and it would be fine. but if Joyful wasnt a DLC i imagine it would have been likely we'd see a full fledged sequel instead and it sucks it had to go that way. i definitely dont hate the creator for it but itsucks for everyone that even the additions in Definitive cant fix what happened already with that game.

#lisa the joyful #this ended up being 2k words LOL #lisa rpg #lisa the painful #lisa

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commiemartyrshighschool · 5 months ago

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Two things have been on my mind lately.

It is not enough to be right, you also need to be persuasive.

Video essays are significantly more work than written essays.

That comes together, I think, in making video essays a preferred medium for ideas at the moment. They hold your attention and hit you with sound and visuals alongside words that invite concentration but not thought. They're performed in a way that tone of voice, facial expression, and visual display of information are at least as important as the text being delivered.

Being a good video essayist requires not just a way with words, but also editing skills and the ability to not only make a case but be an orator.

A slick, well produced video essay is a lot of work, and if you don't have all the resources necessary yourself to pull it together you need the resources necessary to pull together a team that can do it.

In essence it becomes much harder to "argue back" in a medium where you need to do a lot more than simply write a response.

Now, writing ability varies considerably among people, even before accounting for things like discussions with multilingual dimensions. But almost anybody on Earth who would care to respond to a written essay on the internet has access to a keyboard! Not everybody can become a novelist or essayist for the ages, but even minimal practice and reading can improve anybody's ability.

But video essays have essentially raised the barrier to entry in participating in many conversations. Only a handful are truly consequential, to be sure, but the comment section is almost always going to be relegated to a peanut gallery unless the channel runner takes the time to respond in a video format.

This, I believe, creates a sort of assumed parasociality to watching a video essayist. Because even if the ideas are on your level the presentation is more likely than not, well beyond you.

But a written essay? There might be apparent differences in writing ability, and being persuasive is distinct from being right as well, yet you won't be able to tell if the response was made on a new computer or an old one, who has the bigger stock asset library, the nicer set, the better camera, the quickest cuts. Things that absolutely do matter in a video essay, as does if the watcher finds the essayist attractive, or feel they look trustworthy.

I don't know if there's any way TO actually bring back a public appreciation for essays though. Less than 60 percent of millennials EVER read newspapers, and older generations don't lag far behind on that stat. The internet is ostensibly a great place to discover, read, and share essays but now that video essays can be delivered at watchable speeds even if they're in HD and four hours long they have almost no competitive advantage.

Text oriented platforms do exist, but they're skewed towards the pithy and combative, the hot takes of twitter, bluesky, threads, what have you. I'm not sure that traditional forums, even the few that exist, are free from that either.

I dunno, it's part of why when I published my magazine I really wanted that magazine format, that print-ability. Wish I had the time and energy to get past Issue Zero.

But it seems to me that might be where some of the hope is to be found, collections and curations with accessible submissions.

Anyways, another perk of the written essay is that you don't need to plot the whole thing out. You can just kinda jam and dash off thoughts without an ending sorted.

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allovertheworldblog · 9 months ago

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South Korea to New Zealand via China

I take the brand new trainline to the airport.

The train is full of information, almost an overload.

On TV screens close to the door of each carriage departure times of planes are displayed.

Then it’s time for news headlines, sports news and world weather forecasts.

The news tells me that Switzerland has leased a pier in the north east of North Korea; Seoul shares inch up on institutional gains.

The other stories deal with college tuition fees; military medical services; household debt; North Korean military intentions; and that South Korea is to develop an unmanned research ship.

The airport is big, but doesn’t feel overwhelming.

There is much thought given to the traveller and it’s almost a pleasure to be there.

I have no onward flight out of New Zealand, because I don’t need one.

The lady who is checking me in for China Southern Airlines tells me that I should have one.

She’s pretty nice about it. It’s an advisory, not a strict requirement on the part of New Zealand she tells me but I can’t check in without one.

A lady from Korean Air can sell me a refundable ticket for 1 million Won, about 680 Euro.

Instead I buy a flight online myself, from New Zealand to Australia for 100 Euro.

There are no newspapers on sale in the airport.

There isn’t even a bookshop, so I read the newspaper on the plane, the Global Times, a Chinese government sponsored newspaper.

It’s full of wacky, weird and wonderful stories.

There’s a picture of Colonel Gadaffi playing chess with the Head of The World Chess Federation, who claims that chess is a gift from outer space, he also claims to have been abducted by aliens.

There’s news of a new high speed rail line to connect Beijing and Shanghai which goes at 300km/h, with tickets priced at 555 Yuan, or you can go business class for 1,750 Yuan.

There are also 250km/h trains that’ll cost you 410 and 650 Yuan depending on your class.

They say there’ll be 63 pairs of trains running at 300km/h.

The article talks about the massive debts that the Ministry of Railways has incurred. A university professor is quoted talking about ‘air/rail intermodality projects’.

Another story deals with the 8,653km long natural gas pipeline from Turkmenistan to China which cost $22Bn, which is designed to 'feed China’s growth’.

Other stories include two Siberian tigers that are due to give birth in China; flooding in Hunan; the latest on Syria and Yemen; baby trafficking; bribery and corruption; financing of a 'shadow internet’ by the US.

The business pages deal with Chinese GDP, money supply, the CPI, and IPO’s; the growth of luxury spending in China, the fact that Louis Vuitton opened 27 shops in 22 Chinese cities in two years.

The United States is warned to stay out of any regional disputes that China may have with Vietnam and The Philippines.

'It would not be a wise move’ for the US to get involved.

Events to mark the 90th anniversary of the founding of the Chinese Communist Party take up a full page.

I get the feeling that this story is only covered because they feel they have to, it’s all very low key.

When we land in Guangzhou there is powerful humidity in the air.

We’re so far from the airport that we have to board a small bus to bring us to the terminal.

All the likewise pasty foreigners who are just transiting through China are put aside and our passports taken away.

An official appears 20 minutes later with a stack of passports.

She tries to give passports back to people based on their passport pictures, it’s all a bit hopeless.

She doesn’t believe that I’m the same person as the person in the photo on my passport.

Eventually she gives me my passport.

I have about 7 hours to wait until my connecting flight to Auckland.

#travel #culture #photography

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parkerlearnstoread · 2 years ago

Text

American Psycho

by Brett Easton Ellis

American Psycho was controversial before it was even released. In the months leading up to it hitting the shelves, author Brett Easton Ellis was sent not just hate mail, but death threats. On the surface I can understand why people would see just his writing of this book as completely immoral. A story of a man who manipulates, tortures, murders and rapes women without any motive other than pleasure. However; this book is more than the "powerful sigma-male" icon that modern day redditors praise it as.

First of all, this is a book ripe for readings. Covering broad bases; class, sex and feminist readings are all right there. When I was in my senior years of high school I would have love to read this just for how easy an essay would have been. Analysing just the character of Bateman would give you more paragraphs than you would ever need. My favourite aspect of Bateman is the absolute unreliability of his story telling. Early on we are greeted with this when he tells us that he mentions torture and the like casually at dinner. We can see this isn't really happening due to the lack of reaction (although this could be a comment on the lack of care the people Bateman interacts with have for anything). At times, whether he is lying, or he is just that unpredictable is unclear. His short confessions of murder amidst other ramblings are one example of this. Then the entirety of the chapter in which he shoots the saxophonist. The lack of consequence he faces for this despite the high speed chases and the helicopter incursion implies it never happened at all. Or perhaps it displays his privilege in this society. Regardless, we cannot be sure anything is as he states at all.

I am not a fan of gore, which makes this book seem a unique choice, and at times I also nearly gave up, but the writing style drew me back without hesitation. The way Ellis has Bateman list everything when he enters a new situation is a perfect way to demonstrate his superficiality and how his world is shaped by brands and value. This is extended in the sex scenes, the way Bateman's depicted to list endlessly the positions and acts, without any emotion at all. It distances him from everything and emphasises his control (or desire for it). Further on in the book it is exciting to see the lists gradually falter. Starting with Bateman admitting he is unsure of the brands worn, then leaving out items, moving to only noting the extraordinary until finally they're skipped all together. It is a subtle yet excellent way to demonstrate his faltering grip on reality, loss of comfort in the bourgeois setting and ultimately a lack of care to control his persona and stay as the calm, collected, wall-street banker, Patrick Bateman. Another small writing detail that illustrated his growing disassociation, that I found excellent, was in the aforementioned saxophone chapter where on the run the pronouns shift from the personal "I" to "he" and "Bateman". This demonstrated a disconnect between the man in the body and the way he portrays himself to everyone else.

I enjoyed this book for its writing and style, but struggled to work through the actual content of it. Ellis is an excellent writer and I wouldn't hesitate to read more from him.

#January 2023 #Parker recommends

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i-am-very-not-aight · 3 years ago

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Eiji Okumura is chaotic and a little shit and no one can convince me other wise. Also very sad. This is a very prevalent theme in all of my posts.

So here's some incorrect quotes

Eiji: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress

Eiji: I'm a nice person, but I'm about to start throwing rocks at people.

Eiji: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

Eiji: You’ll have a hard time believing this because it never happens, but I made a mistake.

Eiji: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship! ... And this knife I found.

Eiji: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird. But emotionally? Imagine the toll.

Eiji: I made tea.

Ash: I don’t want tea.

Eiji: I did not make tea for you. This is my tea.

Ash: Then why are you telling me?

Eiji: It is a conversation starter.

Ash: That’s a lousy conversation starter.

Eiji: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

Eiji: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...

Eiji: bitches b like “im baby” but have childhood trauma and neglect like wtf do u know about being baby u were forced to grow up from an early age anyways I’m bitches

Eiji: Some of you may die, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. As long as it isn't Ash.

Eiji, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo.

Eiji: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?'

Eiji: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

Eiji: Well, well, well... if it isn’t my old friend: the dawning realization that I fucked up bad.

Eiji: You think I really give a fuck? I can’t even read!

Eiji, threatening the others with a paintball gun: Listen... Life comes at us fast. We don't know what life is gonna give us... And today, it's gonna give you... a paintball!

Eiji: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- [translation: I’M SORRY]

Ash: What's that?

Eiji: Remorse code.

Ash: I'm even angrier now.

Eiji: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

Eiji: I think my guardian angel drinks.

Eiji: Like they say, "If you can't beat them, curl up in a ball and protect your organs."

Eiji: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.

Eiji: You know the sound a fork makes in the garbage disposal? That's the sound that my brain makes all the time.

Eiji: The risk I took was calculated but, man, am I bad at math.

Eiji: I'm naturally funny because my life is a joke.

Eiji: Pose as a team because SHIT JUST GOT REAL!

Eiji: My expectations are low, but they can always go lower.

Eiji: My heart is guarded but like… very poorly. The kind of guards that would let 3 kids in a trench coat into an R rated movie.

Eiji: Life keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword.

That's it, Eiji being a chaotic bastard is my favourite thing and some of y'all really need to embrace it.

#banana fish #banana fish incorrect quotes #incorrect banana fish #ash lynx #eiji okumura #shorter wong #banana fish headcanons #chaotic eiji okumura

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howlingday · 3 years ago

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a man needs a maid au) blake belladona was a woman who loved the finer things in life, as princess of menagerie she was entitled to such things, like her beautiful maids neon, illia, and serana. truly nothing could go wrong in her life. it was perfect.

blake's maids contemplate locking her in a crate and shipping her to vale so they can actually clean her pig sty of a room. but will they?

they hear shipping is cheap.

(just a little break from the tragic backstory au)

"Is she gone?"

A quick nod was the signal to begin the invasion. After picking the lock, the trio entered the room as one. They were a serpent of many limbs.

With speed, agility, and accuracy, the crew swept through the room, removing all hostiles without a sound. Once eliminated, they set to work recovering the hostages, tending to their delicate frames and soiled bodies. At long last, they reached the end; clearing the room of any evidence they were here. The mission was almost complete. Nothing could impede victory now.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?!"

The trio turned to see their benefactor, Princess Blake Belladonna of the Menagerie royal family, red-faced and eyes wide with predatory thoughts. The mission was a failure. They'll get her next time.

"I bring you in, putting my neck on the line for all of you, and every last one of betrays my trust!" Blake screamed at her maids as they sat on the chaise lounge, side-by-side with no elbow room. "How?! Why?!"

"U-Um..." Ilia Amitola, Blake's oldest friend spoke up. Ilia had lost her parents at a young age and was hired to be a playmate of Blake's. Unfortunately, upon reaching a certain, Ilia had to become something other than her playmate. Thus, she was rehired as Blake's maid, in charge of ensuring Blake attends all of her meetings, makes all of her appointments, and is presentable for all of them. "In our defense, your room was overdue for a cleaning."

"And as I've told you before, Ilia, I will clean it when I have time!"

"You had time yesterday!" Neon Katt, Blake's thorn on every side. Neon was an upstart from the lower class; a fighter who fought for Faunus supremacy over equality. Becoming Blake's maid was meant to humble her, but only seemed to agitate her moreso. "But you spent all day, reading in the dark in those same stained clothes from three days ago!"

"They don't smell bad!" Blake rolled her eyes. "And I had to know what happened next after Princess Yito ran away from her wedding!"

"Weren't you supposed to be studying the latest cases from your father's court?" Serena Gong blankly asked. Originally her father's Eyes of the Court, meant to overview all documents and discussions regarding court cases, she was reassigned so her replacement could become accustomed to her new position. Serena was rehired as Blake's maid to act as a thinker of Blake's servants. Also, she liked the outfits. "Your father entrusted you to tend to those records by reviewing them and then archiving them based on the subject of each case."

"I was getting to those!" Blake sighed. "There's a reason I tell you to stay out of my room."

"Because you're embarrassed of your choice in literature?" Ilia asked.

"Because you don't want anyone to know you snuck someone in?" Neon asked with a grin.

"Because you want to shirk your duties in peace." Serena stated blankly.

"No!" Blake roared. "I am the Princess of Menagerie, and I must protect what is most precious to me! Today, it's my room, and tomorrow, it's the entire island!"

Ilia stood and applauded the display. Neon rolled her eyes while Serena sighed. A thirty-three percent victory wasn't bad, right?

"If it gets worse," Serena warned, "we may be forced to hire hire additional staff."

"So be it." Blake turned away. "Just stay out of my room."

"Unfortunately, the kingdom is struggling for funding. We may have to outsource from an offshore company." She looked to Neon, who gave a knowing smile.

"Yeah, like Vanguard." Neon added, her smile growing wider at Blake's sudden flinch. "I'm sure Mr. Arc wouldn't mind us borrowing one of his maids. Maybe the tall one, or the short one?"

Serena shook her head. "No, Ms. Nikos is his head of security and Ms. Rose is technically too young to even be a maid."

"Well, that still leaves the blonde one." Neon feigned ignorance. "What was her name again?"

"One hour." Blake whispered.

"Blake?" Ilia asked.

"I will give you one hour to clean my room." Blake stated with looking at them. "Any longer, and I'm selling you to Kahn."

It was meant to be a serious threat, but the trio knew better. While it is true Governor Kahn was a strict woman, she wasn't as vicious as the rumors claimed. The same could not be said of her vassal, Adam Taurus.

The two stood up and all three bowed to their magnanimous benefactor. "Yes, Princess!"

Serena and Neon left to gather their supplies. Ilia, however, stayed behind. "So, what happened with Princess Yito?"

Blake smiled at her friend. Though they agravated her and violated her personal space too often, she couldn't deny the positives that came with them. While true to an extent that every man needs a maid, it was even more true that a woman needs her friends.

#rwby #rwby au #a man needs a maid #blake belladonna #ilia amitola #neon katt #serena gong

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

Text

Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?)

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think! masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

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