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vinnyvamppp · 2 days ago

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I NEED A FIC OF THE NO GOGGLES MARK VARIANT!!!

specifically make him THAT KINDA FREAK we already know he loves to toy with others (from his battle with the Guards of the Globe) and is crazy asf with a sense of dark humor. My fic idea is where he’s with his gf and this is their first time having sex tg and she doesn’t know about his kinks or anything since she would just take his comments of him telling her to ‘try to choke him’ or basically to inflict pain on each other as a joke.

Slap Me Silly

Note: This is yummy, we like this, we NEED this. I've seen maybe two fics have elements of this, so lemme just—slide myself in. (the pic is a hint SOMEONE TIE HIM UP)

Warnings: Nipple play (most male receiving), Switch Lenless!Mark (YOU CAN'T TELL ME HE DOESN'T OCCASSIONALLY BOTTOM), Dom!Reader, Riding, Tit Squeezing, Biting, Dark Humor, Choking, Degrading, "Good Boy", Slapping, Dirty Talk, Porn w a Plot, Smut, and ofc the over usage of 'Dude'.

No Goggles/Lensless!Mark x Dom!Fem Reader

Word Count: 2,303

The apartment is quiet, save for the occasional hum of traffic outside and the soft rustle of fabric as you shift on the couch. Mark is stretched out beside you, legs spread like he owns the place—because, in his mind, he does. His grin is lazy, all teeth, and his dark eyes flick toward you with that ever-present glint of mischief.

“You keep staring at me like that, babe,” he murmurs, tilting his head against the couch cushion, “and I’m gonna start thinking you actually like me.” You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “God forbid.” He chuckles, low and amused, and suddenly he’s closer—leaning in like he’s got a secret to tell. “Nah, I think you do,” he teases, his breath warm against your jaw. “Like, a lot.” You scoff, pushing at his chest. “You wish.” Mark lets himself fall back dramatically, spreading his arms out like he’s been struck. “Right in the heart. Dude! That was brutal.” Rolling your eyes, you reply. “You’ll live,” you deadpan.

“Oh, I always live.” He winks, and for a second, there’s something in his expression, something dark and knowing, a reminder of just how much weight those words actually carry. But then it’s gone, replaced by that ever-present smugness. His fingers drum against his thigh. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Ha. Ha.” He smirks. “No, but really—since we’re both so hopelessly in love or whatever—” You snort, but he ignores you. “—don’t you think it’s weird that we haven’t, y’know, done anything yet?” His eyebrows lift, feigning innocence. “Not that I’m complaining. I like a good slow burn. Gets me all antsy and horny.” Your stomach tightens. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Mark is—well, Mark. Infuriating, cocky, always pushing just to see how far he can go. But he’s also magnetic in a way that makes it impossible to look away. And when he wants something? He gets it.

Still, you manage to play it cool. “I figured you’d explode if you went more than a week without getting laid.” Mark grins, tilting his head. “I do like explosions.”

You shake your head, but before you can throw another sarcastic remark his way, he moves. Fast. Not using his full speed—he’s learned his lesson about freaking you out like that—but enough to make your breath hitch as he’s suddenly towering over you, hands braced on either side of your hips. “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You swallow. “That depends.” His fingers trail up your arm, barely touching, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You remember all those times I told you to try and choke or slap me?” You let out a brief chuckle. “You mean when you were being weird?” Mark hums, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “See, that’s the thing—you think I was joking.”

Your breath catches. His eyes are half-lidded now, watching you with something between amusement and hunger. “…You weren’t?” Mark smirks. “Dude. You have no idea.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours. You stare at him for a second, searching his face for any sign that he’s messing with you. Nothing. Just that same cocky, lopsided smirk, like he knows something you don’t. His grin progressively widens as you open your mouth to speak, “You have to be kidding.” Mark tilts his head, feigning offense. “Why would I joke about something so serious? Dude, I’m hurt.” Here he goes again with the dramatics. “Oh, I’ll hurt you, alright.” The words leave your mouth before you can grasp them, but Mark’s eyes light up like you just handed him a winning lottery ticket.

His lips part slightly, tongue flicking out to wet them. “Please do.” You let out a laugh—sharp, disbelieving. This idiot. He’s always like this. Pushing buttons just to see what happens. You stared, more interested than before, your head shaking. “You’re insane.” Mark doesn’t miss a beat. “And you love it.”

You roll your eyes and, without thinking, lift your hand and smack him across the face. A sharp pop echoed as your palm struck his cheek, snapping his head to the side. Not hard, just enough to wipe that smug look off him. Or, well. That was the intention. Because instead of looking shocked or offended, Mark just stares at you. Slow blinks. Chest rising and falling a little too deliberately. “…Holy shit.” He gasps, making you hesitate.

He lets out a breathy laugh, touching his cheek where you slapped him. Then, with a grin that is way too excited for comfort, he looks back at you. “Dude.” His dark eyes go heavy-lidded, lips parting slightly as he exhales slowly, shaky, and wrecked like you just did something unspeakably good to him, and he’s already desperate for more. You blink. “What?”

“Do that again.”

You pull back slightly in hesitation, wondering how you even scored this crazy fuck. Taking notice, Mark clicks his tongue, shaking his head like you just deeply disappointed him. “C’mon, Dude. Don’t be like that.” He leans in again, voice dipping lower. “I liked it.” Your stomach flips. You open your mouth two seconds away from calling him an absolute freak, but Mark beats you to it. “See, this is why I keep you around,” he muses, like he’s talking to himself. “You get me.” He rasps with an estranged fascination, seemingly savoring the sting against his cheek. “I literally do not—”

“—you do, though.” He gestures vaguely. “Even if you pretend you don’t. Which is, like, really cute, by the way.” He pauses dramatically with a slight sing song “And hot.” You exhale through your nose. Okay. Fine. He wants to be weird? You can be weirder. So, with the most exaggerated sigh you can manage, you lift your hand and slap him again. This time, it’s harder. The slap lands sharp and sudden, a crisp crack that echoes in the quiet room. His skin is warm under your palm, the impact sending a fleeting sting through your fingers, while the faintest thrum of satisfaction lingers in the air between you. Mark's head tilts slightly from the force, but the way he laughs is low, throaty, and giddy. The kind that sends something hot and electric through your spine. His gaze snaps back to you, darker now. “Oh, yeah,” he breathes, voice thick with something you don’t quite know how to name yet. “That’s the stuff.” Your gaze flickered lower, his hips fidgeting. He was hard.

Mark leans in, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath against your lips. He’s still grinning like he’s just won the lottery, panting like an excited mutt before he whispers, “…Your turn.” You took this as an invitation to explore his other kinks, his willingness empowering you like never before. The space between you ceased to exist in an instant, your bodies pulled together with an urgency that set your skin ablaze, his lips claiming yours like a force of nature. Groans filled the space within your mouths, his sloppy kisses trailing lower over your neck. You deserved such romance for your first time, but his body was already seething for more. His hand reaches forward, fingers tingling with excitement as they curl around your throat. He forces you down against the couch, the pressure against your windpipe causing you to gasp. Before he could do more your hand lashes out, striking his cheek with a resounding slap. He paused, welcoming the change from his usual dominance. "Fuck yeah," he growls, his voice thick and eager. "Don't hold back, babe."

Emboldened further, you push him back and climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. You can feel his hard already weeping cock pressing against your clothed sex, the heat of him seeping through the thin fabric of your panties. You grab his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. "You like this, don't you? Being used like a little bitch?" You insulted, testing the waters.

Mark's eyes flutter closed as he lets out a shuddering moan. "Yes," he hisses, his hips bucking up against you. "I fucking love it." His hands grip your thighs tightly, fingers digging into your skin.

You tighten your grip on his throat, feeling his pulse jump under your palm. "Beg for it," you demand, grinding your cunt against his straining erection. "Beg me to choke you while I ride your cock." Mark's eyes snap open, gleaming with satisfaction. "Please," he rasps, his voice strained from your hold. "Please, please, choke me while you use my dick. I want to feel you squeeze the air from my lungs as you cum all over me."

A thrill runs through you at his words, at the complete submission and desperation in his voice. You release his throat, only to fist your hand in his hair, yanking his head back. "Good boy," you purr, before crushing your lips against his in a fervent kiss. You rake your nails down his skin, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

You whimper into his mouth, his hands moving to your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. You can feel him throbbing against you, his cock leaking pre-cum into his pants. Breaking the kiss, you lean back and hastily remove your top, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His fingers follow suit, bringing his shirt over his head as he refuses to blink even once. "Fuck yes, Mistress." He groans, voice strained as his eyes glued to your tits. "You're so goddamn sexy." His lips nearly prepared to worship you.

It was odd, you stared down at him enjoying the power you have over him. He could easily turn the tides at any moment, but he was so willing to fuck you with such courtesy. Your fingers gently tapped against his throat, just threatening, begging him to make a move that would cause your grip to tighten. Mark immediately sits back, panting and red-cheeked. You lift your hips, his hands shove down your panties and help you kick them off. Then, with a courage-building sigh, you line up his cock with your dripping entrance. Mark groans, his hands flying to your hips. "Need to feel your tight pussy around my cock." Without warning, he slams you down onto him, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion. You both groan at the sudden intrusion, Mark's head falling back as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. "Oh god," you moan, savoring the feeling of him stretching you open. "You're so fucking big, where were you hiding this thing?!"

"I'm gonna fill this pussy up so good," Mark declares between giggles, his hips starting to move beneath you. "Gonna pump you full of my cum until it's leaking out of you." The dirty words only spur you on. You start to ride him fast, your hips slamming down onto him as you chase your pleasure, barely allowing yourself to breathe. Your hand never leaves his throat, tightening and loosening in time with your movements. Mark's face is flushed, his eyes glassy with lust as he bucks up into you, meeting you thrust for thrust.

"Harder," you demand, squeezing his throat tighter, his eyes rolling back. "F-fuck me harder." Mark lets out a choked groan, but does as he's told, slamming up into you with renewed vigor. The new angle has him hitting depths you didn't know existed, making stars burst behind your eyelids with each thrust. You can feel the pressure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter as he pounds into your g-spot. Releasing him from your ever-desired grip, he protests, his hips punctuating as you let out a yelp. “Dude..!” He whines, exasperated before a resounding clap echoes against his cheek, his face growing warm as blood swelled. “Again! Again…!” He encouraged, and you followed suit devilering smack after smack. The feeling only rousing him more as his hips pressed further.

Arching your back forward, your tongue finds the blistering streaks left from your nails. Soothing them with the soothing stroke of the muscle, you lick over his nipples, teeth tugging on them gently. The small buds hardened slightly from the cold air, and his grunt echoed from above. “Holy shit... yes!” Coming up for air, he returns the favor, hands leaving your ass and latching onto your tits as he squeezes them like stress balls. It's painful, he knows but he attones as his thumb traces rings around your areolas causing mild pleasure.

Your hands returned to his throat, tightening like a vice. With a strangled chuckle, his cock twitched inside you as he floods your pussy with his hot seed. The feeling of him pulsing inside you, the overwhelming sensations overloading your senses, and the obscene squelching sounds of his cum filling you pushes you over the edge. You throw your head back with a scream as your orgasm crashes over you, your cunt spasming as you gasp. Were orgasms always meant to feel this strong?

Mark groans as he feels you contracting around him. "Milk my cock dry. Take every last drop." You continue to ride him through your climax, grinding your clit against his pelvis until the last waves of pleasure fade away. When you finally collapse against his chest, both of you are panting and covered in sweat.

You could barely catch your breath when he spoke up. "Dude, we're definitely doing that again," you murmur against his chest, exhausted, he chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath you. "Hell yeah we are." He says to himself. Without missing another beat, you're suddenly flipped over, his cock hardened with renewed energy. "Ready for round two?" He asks, tracing patterns against your calves as he spreads your legs over his shoulders. Now it was truly your turn.

Can you guys tell I love submissive or freaky men? Hopefully, this fulfills your request!

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gatorbites-imagines · 3 days ago

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Hey Gator, it’s the anon who wasn’t doing great a few days ago. Something really scary happened on Wednesday but I’m doing a lot better, took a few days to relax, I’m catching up on some stuff. I just wanted to tell you that I’m doing better, so your advice does help!! Also if you could give some HCs for Viltrumite mark, I don’t really mind which one, I’d love it!!

Viltrumite Mark Grayson x male reader

Headcanons

Hi anon, im sorry something bad happened, but happy you are doing better now. Have some viltrumite Mark headcanons, sorry it took a bit.

I like to imagine that viltrumite Mark is one of the older Marks amongst the variants. Him, alongside Prisoner Mark and Flaxan Mark.

Being one of the older Marks also means hes one of the strongest, but also most levelheaded when it comes to battle and viltrumite work in general.

I have a headcanon, that he was born on earth, lived there for a bit, but gained his powers early, but not so early that he was completely brainwashed, like Moustache Mark.

Viltrumite Mark would still have memories of his mom, of being a normal human, but he has lived much longer under the viltrumite empire.

At the time he was so weak he could do nothing but submit and go along with it, and now hes older, but so numb to it all, that he doesnt go against the status quo.

This also means he speaks in a very flat tone and has a bland expression for the most part. Noticing his feelings can be a challenge at times, as hes so used to hiding them, and just not feeling things.

You notice through small stuff. Like the small twitches in his brow, pull at his lips, or when he crosses his arms and fiddles with his fingers. Its almost impossible in the beginning, but you learn, and he opens up with time.

Being one of the older Marks also means that his vilrumite biology is more visible, and stronger. The human DNA is overwritten completely over time, and so his body starts changing.

This means he runs hotter, has a longer and smooth tongue without tastebuds, doesn't have fingerprints, heals quicker, and he's the smallest physically,,, down there.

This isn't actually because he's the smallest, it's just that viltrumite biology wants to draw his vulnerable parts back into his body, and he hasn't fully reached the point where it's completely sealed inside his body just yet.

Having lived so long under a horrible leader, forced to do so many bad things, Viltrumite Mark would search out comfort and safety, without truly realizing.

He wouldn't express it much, but Mark finds comfort in submitting to his partner. It doesn't even have to be anything sensual, just him pledging himself to them gives him a sense of purpose.

Maybe it's a result of many many years of being more a tool than a person, of always having to mind his status as a halfbreed and where he stood compared to his superiors.

Here he didn't have a choice if he wanted to bend his knee to them, but with you, he gets the choice. You loving him and treating him kindly also helps, because this is the first time he has given himself to somebody, and it hasn't hurt.

Is it horrible that I think he has at least one or two children in his original universe? Specifically with Anissa.

It would have been her way of showing him that she was superior, and that he was just a tool for the empire and for true viltrumites like her.

In the end, Mark would have killed both her and the children when he became strong enough, this would be one of the few killings he took great joy in committing, drawing out Anissa's death for as long as possible.

This would cause the quiet Mark variant to be cautious when you first started showing him affection, even if he arches towards it like a sunflower towards the sun.

It feels like it's too good to be true, so he would be mistrusting in the beginning, keeping his distance and maybe even striking out like an abused cat.

Until he realizes that he actually feels comfortable and safe with you, that he can be himself, and be allowed to exist as Mark, not whatever title the viltrumite empire gave him.

You allow him to be human again, after he's almost completely forgotten how.

Hes still pretty cold and cruel at times, but never towards you.

Mark would have extremely little care for humanity though, after he's wiped out so many planets and lived so long, then humanity feels like nothing more than specs of dust int he grand scheme of things.

He would step up and help though, if you were in danger. Nobody else matters to him in that regard, but because you are from earth and like it here, then yeah, he will help when Mark absolutely has too.

#male reader #mark grayson #viltrumite mark grayson #invincible #invincible variants #mark grayson variants #mark grayson x male reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson imagine #mark grayson headcanon #invincible x male reader #invincible x reader #invincible imagine #invincible headcanon #viltrumite mark grayson x reader #mark grayson variants x reader #viltrumite biology #anissa mention... but she dies

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dammit-tazmuir · 2 days ago

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Just collecting some highlights from the tags and other branches of reblogs bc they all deserve to be seen.

She's deeply self-aware, and in many ways so confident and comfortable with herself, but also aware of her struggles and short-comings in a way that frustrates her but she isn't ashamed of. She knows her psychological hangup on the replacement arm that Wasn't Perfect So She Didn't Want It was petty and stupid and she still couldn't get over it, and she hated but really deeply accepted that. When she has huge ugly reactions to the first time in the River or to RB/Herald proximity, there's no denial or covering or anything really, she lets body do what it's gonna do. About the only thing she really gets flustered about is getting caught having positive feelings lol.

She has extremely low empathy and is deeply humanized about that and I will love that about her for all of time. She cracks jokes at the worst times. ("Some people will do anything to get.... a head..." I adore her.) She's decisive and owns every decision she ever makes. At no point has she ever shown typical guilt or regret, only occasional adjacent frustration or doubt at most. At no point has she ever felt particular pity or sympathy for anyone, and she doesn't need to.

She's kind to Harrow because she likes her and is interested in forming a bond with her. She gets upset at the idea Harrow might die because she doesn't want Harrow taken from her. She's nice to Augustine because flattering him benefits her and his company is enjoyable and his skills are admirable. She can and will be kind, funny, at times charming, helpful, extremely reliable if she's committed to something, and at times do her best to be comforting and even do things that for all intents and purposes are selfless, even though it is at all times rooted in a selfish mindset. She does things for other people because she WANTS to, sometimes to a point the thing SHE wants most IS what's good for them even if there's no other benefit for her.

She's also a big dumb whiny baby sometimes in the most endearing way. She's one of the funniest characters in the series. She genuinely seems to think she's "the main character" or at least more important than most people. She is a walking pile of snark and apathy and mean jokes and unpleasantness crossed with selective but terrifying and ferocious levels of devotion and brilliance. She's a massive bitch and is entirely at peace with that and she looks like someone left stale bread and butter out in the rain, and that coexists fully with the fact that she is beautiful and loves fiercely and always understands she has room to improve.

Harrow early on begrudges knowing Ianthe has a brain, but "the heart was an open question." But later, and before that from the reader's perspective, in the Prologue, she can hear the beating of "her wet and human heart", and I think there's something evocative about the way that's phrased. She is actively trying to be mean and nasty in many instances and she also very much does do many heinous crimes, but she is always sympathetic and always feels like a very real person. And honestly if even one or two people have ever better understood and been better able to communicate with someone they knew with similar tendencies (hopefully minus the murder and cannabilism but you know) thanks to Ianthe, then all the more reason to be forever grateful she exists.

It’s “can you think of anything nice you like about Ianthe” time! I’ll go first.

She really didn’t play the game at Canaan House. She very much was like, “fuck your keys and fuck you” and did it her way. The reverse engineering plus the common sense is neat. She really is a genius. I mean, she overdoes it sometimes…. Aaaand… she did do a spot of ‘the murder’. But it was just Babs. Who even cares about Babs?

And then we can round this out by just thinking about Ianthe noticing Harrow noticing her. 👍

#character analysis #ianthe analysis #I love her

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tiramissyoucake · 4 hours ago

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Escape attempt gone wrong (not clickbait)(my husband gets pissed?!?!)

Viltrumite Mark x fem reader, forced marriage, the whole shabang, I know nothing about Viltrum♡ word vomitted, lame fade to black scene because idk how to end this

You see a few ships zip by your windows on some days, you know they don't need ships, so a lot of them were dormant in landing zones.

"What're you thinking about?" Your husband's hands snaked onto your shoulders as his voice reached your ear, a small smile on his face.

"... nothing, I'm just wondering why you have ships since Viltrumites can fly." You noted, Mark hummed. "... honestly? I can't tell you either, maybe it's for longer journeys or cargo." He kissed your cheek gently. "Why? Planning to take one on a joy ride?"

The idea was tempting. "Don't be ridiculous," you scoffed. "I can't fly those."

Later that night, a formal meeting between a few powerful Viltrumites you didn't care about busied Mark and a majority of your guards have turned in for the night, you were left to your own devices in a big bedroom stockpiled with gifts from every corner of the galaxy.

You tossed and turned, sleeping early didn't help. You were restless, you've been restless since you've been demanded to remain in one building and one building only. It infuriated you, your supposed husband most likely saw you as a reward for decimating a planet and not a living being with autonomy.

You sat up, glancing aside to the empty space next to you. He had some nerve, locking you up then leaving to play emperor like this, anywhere else in the galaxy would be better now.

... 'anywhere else' wasn't impossible.

. . .

"You need to mind your manners," Nolan scolded as Mark left the room the 'conference' was held in. "I know you're doing a good job in power, but that doesn't mean you can disrespect your seniors."

"I don't respect those who don't respect me." Mark spoke, his tone grated through gritted teeth. "All I want to do is get this stupid cape off me and see my wife."

Nolan restrained an eye roll, the human pet. "You're too attached to that human, what do you see in her anyway?"

"Everything. She's kind, interesting, she sees me beyond my strength, it's like..." he let out a sigh, holding back a shiver from showing, the sigh almost sounded lovesick. "It's like she sees right through me to my core, sees me for who I am, not what I am."

Gag. His father ignored the romance ramble. "You'll learn to see her as a tool for the good of the empire."

Mark rolled his eyes, parting ways at a hallway. "I'm going to bed, I neglected her enough." He didn't wait for a 'goodnight' or any last comments from his father as he left.

The grand doors to the bedroom creaked open, nothing changed. Your body under the sheets, gifts untouched and floors clean, he let out a sigh of relief as he threw aside the cape, loosening the collar of his clothes. "Are you awake?" His voice was soft compared to the usual commanding tone. "I missed you, dear.."

He came to his side of the bed. "I've been waiting to—"

Pillows. Not your peaceful sleeping figure. A stack of pillows. Confusion flooded his head as he got up.

"... oh, oh! Haha! very funny, love." He looked around. "You can come out now!" He waited for a beat, eyes glancing around for any movement.

None, nothing, not even a shuffle. Panic tingled at his fingertips, as he tugged the sheets off the bed, rapidly looking under the bed his eyes darted around the room. His heart raced, looking in any and every compartment that you could possibly squeeze into.

The room grew into a mess but he couldn't care less, sweat coated his forehead from the frenzy of pure panic. "You're not here." He finally admitted to himself, his heart pounding.

Silently cursing the meeting in his head, he sped off to collect whoever he can from guards or staff to form a search party, you couldn't have gone far. Humans were weak, vulnerable, he'll find you. He'll find you. He'll find you.

. . .

You held the cloak you found in the back of the closet close to your chest, you didn't know if Viltrumites recognised you but you wouldn't risk it, but your feet hurt as you ran through the unfamiliar structures.

The hallways were empty, the doors were loose. It was a miracle. You got a chance to leave this nightmare of a marriage, you had no clear idea on where you'd be headed, but you heard stories of galaxy nomads and travellers making ends meet and surviving! You're a smart person, you've got common sense. How hard could it be..?

The landing zone. You just needed to get to the landing zone.

A gasp escaped you, you heard a few barks of commands. "Spread out! She couldn't have gone far!"

You needed to get to that landing zone.

Keep low, keep hidden. You repeated that in your head as you ran, you thought you'd never get there or that you may have gotten lost, then the landing zone came into view, you saw a few ships and suddenly, hope seemed within your reach.

The search party seemed too focused on the buildings and structures, you thanked whatever architect decided to put that place outside of populated areas, the shouting dwindled, turning more distant as you got closer.

You tossed the hood off seeing a few Viltrumites guarding a gate, spotting you as you closed in, they grew confused. "Your imperial majesty? What happ—"

"Open the gates!!" For the first time, you commanded them. "Open them, now!!"

They had no choice but to listen, the gates opened and your heart almost pounded out of your chest. The ships lined up and their states were clear, maintenence, maintenence, offline, maintenence, offline, reserved, offline, reserved.

Finally, 'Ready'.

You could hear the shouting return, but you didn't care, the ship took you in so easily and you could see a new life for yourself outside of this miserable planet, now you just need to learn how to get the controls to listen to you.

It was quiet inside the ship, save for the rapid button clicking and switch flicking from you, everything was coming to life in the ship's mechanics, you held onto the yoke of the ship as you saw the landscape shift, it would levitate off the ground soon.

. . .

He saw it in the distance, hovering high over the empire he saw a ship start to levitate, he knew about every ship, item and living being that entered and left Viltrum.

"No. No. Nononono." His body moved, launching him to the landing zone area with his fists clenched ready to tear through metal.

Mark mumbled to himself as he closed the distance quickly, angered at your audacity to try to escape him.

. . .

Freedom was on the horizon, you were out of here, out of this nightmare. Your hands readjusted repeatedly on the yolk as the ship moved.

A booming sound caused you to whip your head to the back of the ship, your heart dropped seeing an indent in the metal.

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" You never heard Mark's voice reach that level of volume, the pounding continued. "COME OUT!"

You stood your ground, even as the fear of what he might do if he gets you caused your hands to tremble and your heart to race quickly, you repeatedly tapped a few buttons, didn't this stupid ship have thrusters or whatever?!

An alarm blared, one meant to let a pilot know the ship wouldn't listen, you had a feeling it had to do with more rumbling from below, curse his monstrous strength, you heard a piercing noise, followed by a grating, screeching noise. He was peeling the metal with his bare hands.

"You'd rather DIE in the cold of the galaxy? You despise me to THAT extent?!" He screeched at the top of his lungs, the ship sparking after he destroyed its engine from the outside and it's structure being torn apart.

Your hands rapidly tried to find any button that could reverse or override the damage. "Please," you mumbled as if the ship could hear you. "Please work, please! I can't stay here..!"

"(NAME)!! TURN THIS SHIP OFF!! NOW!!"

His yelling scared you, you gripped a lever and before you knew it, a flury of sparks flew from the control panel, so powerful it almost knocked you out, but the ship being pummeled back to the ground beat the sparks to it, the tilt of the ship causing you to fall out the pilot's chair and hit your head on the way down to the ship's floor.

Your head hurts, your heart hurts, are you going to die on this ship? You didn't want to succumb to the pounding in your head, you were scared you'd wake up chained or worse. A burning sensation collected at the point of impact on your head.

The ship was useless now, Mark made sure of it, the engine being destroyed in an instant, tugging the metal back until there was enough of an opening for him to slip through, he bent his head down to enter the ship. its lights flickering off, he looked up with a piercing glare, a scowl on his lips and eyebrows furrowed, his knuckles were reddened from the sheer force of his strikes against the metal.

It was quiet for a moment as he watched the consciousness slip away from you, his footsteps that approached you quiet compared to the powerful banging of his fists from seconds ago.

"You've got some nerve." He started, a look of anger, sadness, frustration and heartbreak in his eyes. "You think it's that easy, don't you?"

Black spots formed in your vision, your expression was one he couldn't dissect, it pissed him off more, and he knew he'd still take care of that bump on your head after bringing you back home.

It doesn't matter, he'd indulge in his win for now and seethe about the insolence after. And right when he thought you were becoming more obedient too.

"I'm not letting you go." Mark stated to make the situation clear to your fuzzy state of mind, "Not now. Not ever. I'll make sure of it."

#oh noooo dont chase me!!! *trips and falls on purpose* noooooo♡#mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader

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behold-dusk · 3 days ago

Text

COP! HSR MEN AND THEIR PREGNANT WIVES!

JING YUAN X READER BLADE X READER

✎ ੈ✩‧₊˚ SYNOPSIS !! ~ legit just hcs of hsr men that are cops in a modern au with their pregnant wives lmao

╰┈➤ THEMES !! ~ mainly fluffy hcs, domestic family themes, slight angst (if you squint), reader pregnancy

*ೃ༄ TW/CW !! ~ minimal proofread, fluff, slight nsfw, slight titty worship lmaoo, mayhaps jing yuan favoritism... & cop shenanigans. English is not my first language so plssss bare with me

After getting shot near the collarbone in a really big shootout, he's been on mandatory rest leave

(Which doesn't really bother him because he gets to spend more time with his beloved wife and has all the money to be comfortable for the few days he's off)

He smothers you with gentle kisses, forehead kisses especially

When you mount him, gasping for air as your tits prettily bounce for him, he notices the roundness in your stomach

He tries to ignore it because of course, he loves all of you (literally)

But, he just can't take his eyes off your tummy. He doesn't want to assume anything and also doesn't want to confront you because what husband says, “You look plumper than usual"?

And when you notice he's taken quite the long gaze at your stomach followed by grunts and pants of pleasure, you stop and grow self-conscious

And he notices. He notices immediately and goes to shush you while cleaning you up.

“Sweetheart, you're perfect." He tries to reassure you with an exploring hand on your stomach to confirm his speculation

He's not good with his words but he tries his best to make his words sound genuine because they are.

He installs higher security at every door and every window and when you ask him about it, he just grunts and says, “standard security upgrade.”

After looking better at your stomach and seeing how big it's gotten while he's been out for work, he can't help but feel like he should have been there for you before you both had figured it out. (But either way, you shower him with hugs to reassure him it's alright)

On one particular night when you decided to boil a pot of water for pasta, you fell asleep watching one of RottenMango’s crime documentaries.

It was only then when you smelt the scent of tomatoes and especially garlic you were shaken awake.

You saw your husband's back facing towards you as pots and pans quietly banged against each other in the sink with the faucet running

You heard a slight sneer everytime he raised his right arm and winced because that was the side that suffered from the shot the most.

“You didn't have to." You slid out the confines of the blanket you assumed Blade had put over you in your slumber.

He looked at you from behind his shoulder as he set the washed dishes away before pushing a plate of pasta towards you on the marble counter.

“You didn't turn off Stephanie's documentary," You smiled as your fork clanged against the white dish. “Admit it, you enjoy her documentaries as much as I do."

“I don't." He hissed and went on a rant that the silence would emphasize the noises of his cooking and that the video would drown out the sound of cookware

He won't admit it, but he's just as invested as you are when you turn Stephanie Soo on (He'll literally lose focus on whatever he's working on and if you catch him focused he'll act like he isn't.)

And when his mandatory rest leave ends, he checks on you hourly be it quick facetimes or messages

He prefers to facetime and see your face, but when he's really busy he'll always message you, “You're ok?" followed with a picture of a box of donuts he and Kafka share

When he's on office duty and Kafka's out patrolling, he asks Kafka to check up on you disguising it as "dropping off some quick snacks" when really it's not.

And it's even better because she tells you and you both just giggle and talk for 5 minute as you walk her back to her car with a monster energy drink (to which Blade starts to wonder why his value pack is depleting so quickly..)

BUT if he's patrolling closely to your shared house, he'll stop by for what he claims to be, “a quick 5 minute checkup" though you both know it'll end up being 15 if you don't shove him back to his cop car.

He's balls deep into you and fondling with your breasts that he just loves soooo much

He just loves watching them bounce and recoil with every thrust!!

He feels his palms moisten and he thinks it's just the sweat produced from your previous 3 rounds of sough rex but when he sees a milky liquid, he nearly stops in his tracks

THIS MAN CHECKS TO SEE IF HE’S EVEN INSIDE YOU BECAUSE HE THINKS ITS HIS CUM LOL

“Love, are you lactating?" He pulls out which makes you immediately sit up in great contrast to when your legs were resting on his shoulders…

He tells you to stay calm and in bed while he scurries to find his discarded clothes. He nearly stumbles over from sliding his pants on as he rushes to grab his keys.

This guy buys the best and most expensive tests at CVS. Not only that, he makes another trip to Walgreens too.

What do you expect? He's just so giddy to be the father of your kid(s). The moment you took Yanqing, his son from his previous marriage, and honored him as your own, he knew you were the one

“Love, I'm home!" He declares, knowing his voice definitely rumbled upstairs in your shared room. He hurriedly kicks his shoes off and heads up the carpet stairs.

And while you guys wait for the results of the 3 out of the 8 pregnancy tests used, all you can think about is Yanqing and if they do end up being positive.

“Yanqing’s Jiu Jitsu class ends in 20.” You frantically pace around the room while trying to suppress your obviously panicked air intake.

However, he only lets out his cheeky smirk and grabs you to wrap his arms around your waist. He leans against your back while resting his chin on your shoulder as you both stand for the results

“Don’t worry. I've got it." He reassures with a hum

And when all three turn out positive, he's the happiest man on earth! He swoops you into a hug and presses kisses on you everywhere!

When the news is given to Yanqing, he just acts like it's “cool" and then move on, but in reality, he's almost just as giddy as his dad (my boy is PRAYINGGG it's a boy so he can practice Jiu Jitsu with someone who's not just his busy dad, but he's also fine with a sister too tho)

When you try to lift something heavy like a grocery bag, he IMMEDIATELY sprints to help you AND drags Yanqing to help too

Jing Yuan won't admit it but he's installed multiple cameras everywhere around the house so when he's at work he can monitor you 24/7 while he's in his Head Chief Officer office

One dropped plate? Can't have you pricking your finger cleaning up! So he sends one of his friends to clean it up for you

“Officer Dan Heng…? What are you doing here..?” You ask Dan Heng to which he steps beside you and digs in the pantry for the broom and dustpan. He's been in your guy's house many times.

“Jing Yuan insisted on the help." He lets out a sigh, quickly going to work to clean the scattered ash white porcelain shards.

And even when you insist it's fine Dan Heng reassures you he wants to help. And even after, this happens so many times, you can't help but feel like Dan Heng’s true actual occupation is a fortune teller

Not only that, he'll randomly come to the door and say, "Jing Yuan told me to remind you to wear a jacket."

When he knows he'll be out later than usual, he'll facetime you and every so often he'll ask for you to show him your belly

And the best part about all of this? When he enters through the front door, already taking off his damned vest and melting into you on the couch.

#jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #blade x you #hsr blade #blade smut #jing yuan x you #jing yuan smut #x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail #behold-dusk

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throatgoat4u · 2 days ago

Text

breakfast

word count: 10k

summary: matt moves to la and ghosts you, breaking your heart, but when the opportunity arises, you decide to get your revenge

warnings: emotional abuse, psychological manipulation, gaslighting, toxic relationships, exploitation of vulnerability, heavy emotional distress

a/n: guys this might be a long read...... also this is for @bernardsbendystraws song writing challenge thingy. i'm actually shocked i was able to even write this cause like i'm lazy and procrastinate a lot and the fact that the challenge had a deadline too?!?! i'm amazed. i worked pretty hard on this one and i think this just might be one of my favorite things i've written. ps and by the way, i will be calling the reader cherry in this so that's what people will call her and what she introduces herself as! also one last detail, this doesn't happen in the span of like a few weeks or like 1-2 months, this story takes place in the span of like almost a year. so yeah... enjoy!

toodles sluts :)

matthew bernard sturniolo.

god, you couldn’t stand the man. but looking at him now, his life a complete mess, there was nothing sweeter. and the best part? it was all because of you.

four years ago, the two of you were in high school. you and matt had this sort of relationship where you did practically everything like a couple—going on dates, giving gifts, whispering sweet nothings to each other, cuddling, kissing, the pda, fucking—but you were never actually official. matt didn’t do labels until he was sure. and you, like the naive girl you were, went right along with it, telling him you’d wait until he was ready.

he had promised you the world, swore up and down that you were the only one who truly understood him. it’s you and me against the world, baby. one day, i’m gonna marry you, you know that? but they were all lies. lies, lies, lies. the only thing that high school failure was good at was lying—and making it sound so convincing. and you? you had been dumb enough to believe every word.

when you two graduated, he left for la to pursue youtube with his brothers, and naturally, he fed you more lies. baby, i’ll come visit you every few months. we’ll call and text every single day, i swear. i’d never leave you, you know that, right? i love you.

it still astonished you how easily those words had slipped from his lips, how effortlessly he could say them without meaning a damn thing. but the saddest part? you ate it all up like a starving man who hadn’t eaten in years. you believed every single word because—why wouldn’t you? he was the love of your life.

for a while after the move, you and matt stayed in touch, talking almost every second. ten-hour calls, facetime marathons, endless text messages—the works. but slowly, you noticed the shift. he started withdrawing, calling less, ending conversations quicker, taking longer to reply—or not replying at all. when he did, it was just to blow you off. i’m busy. shit, sorry, next time. and you bought it. of course you did. he had just moved to la, and being an influencer wasn’t easy. you gave him the benefit of the doubt. that was—until he just stopped. he never replied. all calls and texts went unanswered. he had ghosted you.

you were left utterly broken. he had promised you so, so much. you two were supposed to spend the rest of your lives together. you were supposed to be endgame.

but the wallowing didn’t last long.

one day, you opened instagram to find a post—matt shamelessly making out with some girl at a party. a flood of emotions hit you all at once. sadness, confusion, hurt, betrayal. but most of all—anger.

how could you have been so blind? you gave him everything. your time, your trust, your heart. and he threw it all away like it was nothing.

you weren’t going to let it slide.

so you started planning.

now, four years later, you executed it perfectly. it wasn’t easy—oh no, it was tedious. every step had to work seamlessly for the next to fall into place. one wrong move and the entire plan would collapse.

and what plan exactly?

well, in theory, it was a very simple nine-phase plan. you didn’t even mean for the tenth phase to happen, but it did.

phase one: move to la

this was easy. you had finished college with a degree in fashion marketing, and job offers from la weren’t exactly uncommon. all you had to do was pick the highest-paying, most reputable one, and you were on your way.

you settled into the city faster than you expected. the air was thick with ambition, the streets buzzing with influencers and socialites desperate to be seen. it was a world fueled by image, where clout mattered more than character. and if you played your cards right, it was a world where you could thrive.

phase one: complete

phase two: befriend an influencer (preferably one with connections to matt, preferably tara yummy)

why tara yummy? simple. she threw some of the biggest parties in la, meaning tons of other influencers—some of whom could have connections to matt—would be there.

befriending tara? well, that was a process. you had to admit, you stooped to some pretty unethical and borderline pathetic measures to make it happen. and all for what? revenge on a boy. pathetic.

still, you stalked her obsessively, tracking where she would be and when. you knew her schedule for every day of the week—surprising, right? like, tara yummy having an actual schedule? technically, no. but she did go to the same coffee shop every day at exactly 12:43 p.m.

why 12:43? who the fuck cares? as long as you could follow her to her next location, you were fine with whatever time she picked for her little coffee rendezvous.

saturday, february 15, 12:42 p.m.

you were parked outside the coffee shop, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel, the hum of the engine filling the silence. your eyes flickered to the time on your phone.

what if she decided to go somewhere else today? what if something came up? had you picked the wrong day?

then, at exactly 12:44, you spotted her—rushing inside, her oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, phone in one hand, car keys in the other.

you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding, watching as she ordered her iced oat milk shaken espresso with one pump white mocha, one pump caramel, light cinnamon powder, and vanilla sweet cream cold foam. (don’t ask.)

when she finally got her coffee and walked out, you turned on your car, keeping an eye on her as she made her way back to hers. now, all that was left was to follow her—hopefully to somewhere public where "accidentally" running into her wouldn’t be suspicious.

you waited a few moments before pulling out behind her, keeping a safe distance—close enough to track her, but not close enough to look like you were tailing her.

she drove for about ten minutes before pulling into target’s parking lot.

your eyes lit up almost instantly. perfect.

you parked a few spots away on the opposite side, ensuring a clear view of her. watching carefully, you waited until she stepped out of her car and started toward the entrance before making your move.

inside, you immediately noticed—no basket.

an idea formed in your head.

you trailed behind her, watching as she browsed the aisles, picking up items—a blanket, a book, some makeup, shampoo, conditioner—until her hands were completely full. she stumbled a bit, dropping things occasionally.

this was it. your chance.

you turned down an aisle, walking toward her while she unknowingly walked in your direction. just as you neared her, you looked down at your phone—pretending not to see her—before crashing right into her.

her things tumbled to the floor, and you let your phone slip from your hands for added effect.

"oh my god! i-i’m so sorry, are you okay?" you asked, putting on the best fake concerned voice you could.

she looked up at you and smiled. "yeah, no, i’m okay. how about you?"

"i-i’m fine, don’t worry about me. i’m so, so sorry again. i should’ve been paying attention."

"hey, no, don’t be sorry. it wasn’t really your fault. hell, it wasn’t really either of our faults," she said, laughing as she bent down to pick up her stuff. but you beat her to it.

"no, here, let me get that for you," you said, gathering her things. as you handed them back, you put on a puzzled expression. "wait, you don’t have a basket?"

she shook her head, and you tsked softly before placing each item into yours.

"what are you—" she began, but you cut her off.

"no, it’s okay. i didn’t really have anything in my basket anyway. it’d probably be more useful to you," you said, handing it to her.

she smiled, taking it from you. "stop, thank you so much, you’re so sweet."

"no, stop. it’s really nothing, i don’t mind," you replied, playing it off casually. then, after a brief pause, you added, "oh, and by the way, you’re like… really, really pretty."

"o.m.g. shut up. like, actually. you’re too sweet," she giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"no, i’m dead serious. you’re gorgeous."

"well, you too. like, oh god, you look like one of those really hot girls i see who just seem so unapproachable and intimidating," she mused, eyeing you up and down.

"why, thank you," you replied with the kindest smile you could muster. "sorry if this interaction is kinda awkward… i’m new to la and sort of looking to make friends." you lowered your voice a little, trying to sound just the right amount of shy.

her eyes widened, and her mouth parted slightly. "well, consider me your first friend. i’m tara."

"…cherry," you responded.

"nice to meet you, cherry. c’mon. you’ll be walking with me now," she smiled, grabbing your hand and dragging you along.

phase two: complete.

phase three: get invited to a tara event

over the next few weeks, you spent most of your time with tara, considering she was your only friend.

you went shopping together, got your nails done, hit the gym, had spa days, and she even showed you all the best clubs and bars in la. the two of you really hit it off, and it kinda made you feel bad that you were using her. kinda.

wednesday, march 5, 2:54 pm

you and tara were sitting on her bed, planning out her next big party. but this party wasn’t just any party—it was for you. she wanted to throw an event so you could branch out and meet new people because, being a loner in la? yeah, no, you weren’t going to let that happen. especially not with your plan in motion. if you stayed invisible, everything would be ruined. matt would win, and you'd lose once again.

"so, um… tara… how big is this party going to be, exactly?" you asked, carefully faking a nervous tone as you sat cross-legged on her bed, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. you needed to convince her you were an introvert. playing that part would help you blend into the background and make it easier to focus on your real goal.

tara barely looked up from her phone, scrolling through pinterest, tapping on various pins as she pulled ideas for the event. “well, i’m inviting the usual crowd, so it won’t be too big,” she replied casually. “just enough to get the party vibes right.”

"right..." you sighed, casting a quick glance at the laptop screen, pretending to chew your lip nervously. your act was flawless, but the truth was, you weren’t anxious about being around people—you were just anxious about matt. you knew him all too well, and if he didn’t show up, everything would fall apart. matt was a big homebody, after all. if he didn’t come, you’d have a much harder time achieving your goal.

you needed to know exactly who matt would hang around at the party, and that meant focusing on his closest friends. it was a given that he'd stick close to his girlfriend, macy, but you had to make sure you pinpointed the others—the ones who would be your best shot at making things happen.

the two of you spent the rest of the day bouncing ideas around for the party. tara wanted to host it at her place, and you both decided on a theme—black, white, and a rich, dark red. it was bold, dramatic—something that would definitely make a statement.

tara had already invited a ton of people. for her, it was just another night to throw a party, another chance to be around her usual influencer crowd. but for you, this was more than just a party. this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to matt's friends and, eventually, get closer to matt himself—so you could finally tear him down.

“so, who all did you invite?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your mind was already mentally listing off everyone who might be there.

tara smirked, eyes flicking up from her phone as she responded, “oh, you know, the usual bunch. larray, quen, carrington, jake, johnnie… some of the other la influencers. then, of course, there’s the triplets—matt, chris, and nick.”

you nodded along, your expression neutral, though internally, you were bracing yourself. you already knew the triplets, of course. but this party wasn’t about them. it was about the other people who would be there.

“that’s a lot of people,” you said, trying to keep your voice light, but your mind was already working overtime. “what’s the vibe like with everyone? how do they all mix?”

tara shrugged nonchalantly as she tapped away at her phone, her attention already shifting back to the planning. “honestly, they’re all chill. some can be a little extra—like, really extra—but nothing you can’t handle. you’ll fit right in. just make sure you make an entrance, you know?”

you gave her a knowing smile, nodding along, though your mind was elsewhere. you weren’t here to fit in. you were here to observe, to learn who matt’s closest friends were, to subtly insert yourself into their world. and then, you’d take him down. piece by piece, without him even realizing it.

this party was just the beginning.

phase three: complete

phase four: figure out just who’s in matt’s inner circle

you looked in the mirror as you fixed your hair, making sure everything was just right. the tight black dress hugged your hips in all the right places, the slit riding high enough to leave barely anything to the imagination. your hair was perfectly blown out, sleek and cascading down your back like silk. but still, something was missing.

your eyes landed on the red lipstick sitting on the vanity. you grabbed it, uncapping it with a flick of your wrist before carefully applying it to your lips. the deep, sultry shade coated them perfectly, adding just the right amount of boldness to complete the look.

perfect.

you pressed your lips together, ensuring the color was flawless. now, you were ready.

tara walked into the room, and her jaw practically hit the floor. her eyes widened as she took you in, her gaze trailing from your perfectly blown-out hair to the curve-hugging black dress and the deep red lipstick that added just the right amount of danger.

“oh my god.” her voice was barely above a whisper before it quickly turned into an excited squeal. “cherry, you look stunning! you might’ve just been my lesbian awakening because what the fuck?!?” she said, walking toward you with wide eyes.

you giggled, rolling your eyes as you turned slightly to check yourself in the mirror one last time. “oh, shut up,” you mumbled, but the slight flush on your cheeks betrayed you.

“no, no, i’m being dead serious.” she placed her hands on her hips, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “like, i cannot believe you’ve been hiding this version of you. you look gorgeous.”

“thanks, t,” you murmured softly, your lips tugging into a small, satisfied smile. but before you could revel in the compliment for too long, tara’s expression shifted.

“but,” she said, her tone a little more serious now, “i actually came up here to tell you a lot of people are here now. i know you’re not the party type, but… it’s your party. you need to come down.”

you almost laughed out loud at that. not the party type? oh, if only she knew. at least you’d done a good enough job convincing her that you were shy and reserved. it was all part of the plan.

“yeah, yeah, i know,” you mumbled, tugging your dress down ever so slightly, playing up the nervous act just a bit longer. “can… can you come with me? and maybe… stay with me? i don’t really want to be alone with so many people around.” your voice was soft, almost timid, as if the idea of walking into a crowded room made you anxious.

tara’s features softened instantly, her eyes filling with warmth as she gave you a reassuring smile. “of course i’ll stay with you,” she said, reaching out to squeeze your hand gently. “i won’t leave you alone for a single moment tonight, ‘kay?”

you nodded, offering her a small, grateful smile as you took a deep breath.

perfect.

you followed tara as she began to walk out of the room, her arm loosely linked with yours as the two of you made your way downstairs. the muffled bass of the music grew louder with each step, the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting through the hallway.

as you reached the bottom of the stairs, you scanned the room quickly, your mind already working.

the party was in full swing. influencers, tiktokers, and la’s finest were scattered everywhere, drinks in hand and smiles plastered on their faces.

but you weren’t interested in any of them.

your eyes swept the crowd, zeroing in on the people who mattered most. matt’s friends.

they weren’t hard to spot. matt—whenever he did decide to show up at events like these—always stuck close to the people he felt most comfortable with. usually, that meant nick, chris, and a couple of his closest friends. and tonight was no different.

one person caught your eye almost immediately. larray.

he was laughing, completely immersed in whatever conversation he was having. matt had never looked happier in a group of people and it was sort of like a stab to your heart but you quickly shook the feeling off, refocusing on the small group that surrounded matt. nick, chris, larray… and macy.

macy. matt’s new girlfriend.

the girl who had everything you ever wanted.

she was perched right beside him, her hand casually resting on his arm like it belonged there. she looked so comfortable, so secure in her place next to him. it made your stomach turn.

but not with sadness.

with determination.

there they were—laughing, chatting, blissfully unaware that they were about to become pawns in your little game.

but timing was everything.

you weren’t about to make your move too soon. not when there was so much at stake. so, for now, you waited.

you stuck close to tara, mingling with other guests and keeping up appearances. you laughed at jokes, smiled at compliments, and made small talk with influencers you barely cared about. to anyone watching, you looked like you were just another girl trying to blend into la’s social scene.

but your focus never strayed too far.

your eyes flicked back to matt’s group every chance you got, tracking their every move without being obvious.

nick and chris were in their usual spots, close to matt but engaged in their own conversations. larray was his usual vibrant self, effortlessly making everyone around him laugh. and macy… well, she was glued to matt’s side, just as expected.

you kept waiting, biding your time as the night dragged on.

and then, finally, it happened.

matt, nick, and chris stepped away, heading toward the backyard—probably to get some air or escape the chaos for a moment.

perfect.

your heart pounded in your chest as you took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“tara,” you murmured softly, leaning closer so only she could hear, “i’m gonna go grab another drink. be right back.”

“want me to come with?” she asked, her eyes flickering toward the crowded bar area.

“nah,” you smiled, shaking your head. “i’ll be fine.”

she nodded, giving you an encouraging smile before turning back to her conversation.

and with that, you made your move.

your eyes locked onto larray, who was still standing near the bar, chatting and laughing with a few other people.

game on.

you made your way to the bar, grabbing some random drink that had been left unattended, and started to move toward larray. you made sure to stumble a bit, really selling the whole oops, i’m tipsy act. when you were close enough, you “tripped,” falling forward and spilling your drink all over him.

“shit. my bad. i didn’t mean to do that. i’m so sorry. are you alright?” you asked frantically, eyes darting around for anything to help. you spotted a napkin nearby and quickly handed it to him.

“yeah, i’m okay. chill, girl, damn!” he said, laughing it off as he wiped the drink off his shirt, giving you a playful side-eye.

“gosh, i’m sorry. i might be a little more drunk than i thought. i usually don’t trip over my feet like this,” you mumbled, shifting nervously.

“bitch, it’s okay. i promise, it’s not that deep. my clothes will dry.”

“yeah, i know. but i still feel bad.”

“well, don’t.” he waved you off, flashing you that bright, easy smile. “anyways, i’ve never seen you ‘round. you new here or what?”

“uh, yeah. i moved to la about a month ago for my job.”

he hummed, grabbing his drink off the table and taking a sip. “what do you do?”

“i actually work in fashion marketing.”

his eyes widened instantly, his interest clearly piqued. “wait, so like… do you get all the tea on the brands? tell me everything.”

you giggled softly, shaking your head. “sadly, not yet. i just started. but, trust me, you’ll be the first to know when they let me in on all the juicy shit.”

“you better.” he gave you a pointed look, but his grin was playful.

“cross my heart.” you smirked, making a little x over your chest.

“mm, i like you already.” he gave you a wink before glancing around the room. “but, babe, why are you stuck talking to me when there’s a whole party happening?”

“honestly?” you shrugged, flashing him a sheepish smile. “you’re the most interesting person here.”

“aww, stop it, i’m blushing.” he fanned himself dramatically, making you laugh.

��seriously, though,” he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice, “stick with me tonight, and i’ll make sure you have fun.”

perfect.

throughout the entire night, you stayed glued to larray’s side. he was the perfect guide to la’s influencer scene, introducing you to a lot of people—some of whom you already recognized from social media. but your focus wasn’t on them.

no, your interest was piqued when he introduced you to madison and quen.

it quickly became clear to you that they were probably the closest people to matt—along with larray.

you watched closely, noting the way they spoke about him, the way they laughed at inside jokes that only came from years of friendship. it was subtle, but the familiarity was there.

these were the people who mattered.

and they were exactly who you needed to get close to next.

you slipped seamlessly into conversation with them, playing up the charm and matching their energy effortlessly. it was easy, really—madison was sweet and warm, and quen? well, she was sharp, funny, and didn’t seem to take shit from anyone.

by the end of the night, you weren’t just some random girl who just moved to la. no, you were now on their radar.

the party came to a wrap and as you exchanged goodbyes and promises to hang out soon, you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself.

they had no idea what was coming.

phase four: complete.

phase five: get close to macy

you realized at the party that it wouldn’t have been a good idea to try and talk to macy because she didn’t leave matt’s side once, and matt would’ve immediately recognized you if he had seen you, which would’ve completely jeopardized the plan.

see, the thing is, macy is a model, and your agency just so happened to be looking for some new faces. after the party, you made sure to keep macy in the back of your mind because you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d be working with her in person. it wasn’t long before you got the chance—both of you were assigned to the same photoshoot for a big brand that the agency was promoting.

the first time you saw her in person, she was a lot quieter than you expected. maybe it was because she was surrounded by other models and people she worked with, but she didn’t seem nearly as outgoing as she came off on social media. you had no intention of just jumping in to get to know her right away, but you did make sure to get in a few casual hellos and comments about how excited you were to be working with her.

the shoot itself was long, and there were a lot of down moments while the crew set up shots or adjusted lighting, which gave you plenty of time to talk. you started by talking about the job itself—what it was like working with the agency, the constant hustle, and how draining it all could be. at first, macy wasn’t very open, giving you short answers, but you could tell she was warming up.

after a few hours of talking about everything from the industry to personal stuff, you noticed she seemed a little more relaxed around you. when the crew took a break, you casually offered to grab coffee with her, making sure it didn’t seem like you were trying too hard. macy agreed, and the two of you grabbed a quick coffee from a nearby shop.

over the next few weeks, you found more opportunities to work together, whether it was at another photoshoot or event. each time, you made sure to keep the conversation going, offering small, relatable advice about the industry and connecting on more personal levels. she started confiding in you more—about the pressure to maintain a certain image, the loneliness that came with constantly being on the go, and how hard it was to find genuine friends in a world full of fake ones.

you didn’t push her. you just listened, offering support when needed and being someone she could trust. eventually, she started to reach out to you first, asking for your opinion on various things, and you could tell she was beginning to see you as a friend, not just another coworker.

the real turning point came when the agency booked you both for a big event. during the event, things were relaxed enough that you had a chance to talk one-on-one. this was when you dropped the suggestion—about how your agency had been looking for fresh faces for future campaigns and how they were always interested in bringing in new talent. it was subtle, but effective. macy took the bait, and the next time you talked, she mentioned she’d been thinking about it and was considering taking the next step.

the seed had been planted. you’d gotten closer to her, built the trust, and now you had her in the perfect position. it wasn’t long before macy was fully onboard with the agency's next big campaign, and just like that, your plan was moving forward.

things were falling into place—slowly, but surely.

phase five: complete.

phase six: start spreading the rumors

now that you were getting closer to macy, madison, and quen, it was time to move to phase six of the plan: spreading rumors. subtle, harmless ones at first, ones that wouldn’t immediately seem like an attack, but that would eventually create tension in matt’s friend group. you knew matt’s friends well enough to know that they would start questioning his actions if the right things were said at the right time.

you decided to start with larray. after all, he was the easiest to get to. you’d spent a good amount of time with him, and he was an open book—always down to gossip and willing to listen. it didn’t take much for you to casually bring up the fact that you’d heard a little something about matt during one of your late-night conversations.

“so, like, i don’t know if i’m the only one who’s noticed, but…” you’d start, lowering your voice, like you were sharing some kind of secret. larray, always keen on gossip, would immediately lean in.

“what? spill it,” he’d say, raising an eyebrow.

you’d shake your head, pretending to hesitate. “it’s probably nothing, but i’ve been hearing stuff about matt… like, he’s been kinda distant lately. i don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but i heard he was kinda flaky at the last couple of events. like, not showing up or leaving early.”

larray’s expression would shift slightly, as though he was mulling it over, but he wouldn’t say much at first. you could tell he was processing the information. the next time he was hanging out with matt and the crew, he’d likely file that tidbit away in the back of his mind.

from there, you’d move on to madison. she was always more perceptive, more cautious about things, but you were good at working your way into people’s trust. one day, as you sat together, sipping your drinks, you’d casually bring up something you’d overheard.

“you know, i’ve noticed matt’s been kinda off lately. like, i don’t know if it’s just me, but he seems different. like, more withdrawn? you know, i’ve been hearing that he’s been talking behind people’s backs about his friends.”

madison would pause, taking a sip from her own drink, but her eyes would narrow just a little. “seriously? that doesn’t sound like him,” she’d say. “who’s he been talking about?”

“i mean, i don’t know if it’s about any one person specifically, but i’ve heard him say stuff about the larray before. not, like, bad stuff, but, like, you know, a little judgmental. he’s always got something to say when he’s not around, which is kinda weird, right?”

madison would probably just shrug it off at first, but you'd know that this type of gossip would linger in the back of her mind, especially when she started noticing the little things that seemed off in matt’s behavior.

last but not least, you’d work on quen. she was sharp, observant, and you knew that getting her to trust you enough to believe what you were saying would be a challenge. but you were up for it. your approach would be a little more direct with her.

one afternoon, you’d be hanging out, and you’d make sure to mention something that would start getting her wheels turning.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but matt’s been acting really off lately. like, he’s not as, i don’t know, present? when he’s around the group, it’s like he’s just not… engaged. he’s distant. i heard him say some weird stuff about how he feels like he’s outgrown a lot of the people around him.”

quen would furrow her brows, not immediately responding. “outgrown? huh. that’s… odd. i mean, he’s always been the one trying to keep everyone together.”

“right? and now he’s just, like, pulling away. it’s strange. especially with how close he used to be with everyone.” you’d pause and look at her, as if genuinely concerned, adding, “maybe i’m reading too much into it, but it’s not just me noticing.”

quen would likely stay quiet for a moment, processing it, but deep down, she’d start to think about it. the next time she was with matt, she'd start paying more attention to the way he interacted with the group. the little things would start to show.

with each of them—larray, madison, and quen—you carefully planted just enough doubt to make them start second-guessing matt’s intentions, his loyalty, and his true feelings toward his friends. nothing too drastic at first, just small seeds of uncertainty. but soon enough, the tension would begin to rise. they’d start noticing what they hadn’t before.

and once they did, it would only be a matter of time before matt’s world began to shift.

you let the information sit with them for a while before starting to up the stakes—making the rumors a bit more… compromising.

“girl, don’t even get me started. i heard matt’s been real weird lately,” you say casually, swirling the straw in your drink as you sit next to larray. it’s subtle, but you know exactly what you’re doing.

“uh-uh, hold up.” larray’s eyes widen as he sets his drink down, giving you that signature side-eye. “what do you mean weird? like… weird weird or just matt-being-a-man weird? ‘cause you know these men don’t know how to act.”

you let out a small, dramatic sigh, playing it off like you don’t want to say too much. “i mean… i don’t know, it’s probably nothing. just heard he’s been kinda distant with macy lately. you didn’t notice?”

“not you trying to soft launch tea and then leaving me hanging,” larray gasps, placing a hand on his chest. “spill, bitch. don’t play with me like that.”

“nooo, it’s not that serious!” you laugh, shaking your head. “just… i saw him the other day and he barely acknowledged her. like, he was all up on his phone the whole time. it was just… weird.”

“not him treating macy like she’s on do not disturb,” larray snorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “ugh, men are so exhausting. they can’t even pretend to care when they’re in public. disgusting.”

you shrug, acting nonchalant, but you know his perception of matt was changing.

onto madison

one night, when you and madison were grabbing drinks after work, you casually brought up matt’s name again, this time in a more pointed way.

“you know, i think i’ve been seeing something with matt,” you’d say, your voice almost too casual, too innocent. “well, not me personally, but macy has been telling me all these things about how matt’s being all secretive with her and stuff. like recently, that’s been our whole topic of conversation while we’re at work. she tells me he’s on his phone more often and how he’s always so dismissive of her questions when she asks him why he’s been distant lately. i don’t know ‘bout you, but it sounds like to me that he might be seeing someone on the sid

madison frowned, clearly uncomfortable. “seriously? that doesn’t sound like him at all.”

you’d nod, looking concerned. “yeah, i don’t know, but it’s been bugging me. i mean, macy doesn’t deserve that. and maybe he isn’t cheating. but why is he still being weird towards her.”

“yeah no, that’s really fucked up.” madison says, feeling a little sad for macy

“i know i shouldn’t be telling macy’s business like that but it was gnawing at me. and what’s worse is that macy doesn’t even consider that he could possibly be cheating on her. like i don’t know. i just- do you promise not to tell anyone?” you ask, trying your best to sound like you’ve been overcome with guilt.

madison nods, giving you a soft smile. “baby, of course i won’t tell anyone. secrets safe with me. in the end, these could all be rumors and a shit ton of overthinking so i wouldn’t really jump to conclusions but i’d definitely keep it in the back of my mind.”

you nod, returning the smile. “thanks. you’re a really good friend.”

“anytime”

you’d pulled off larray and madison, now all you had left for this round of rumors was quen.

after one evening, when you and quen were hanging out after work, you casually said, “have you noticed something with matt?”

quen raised an eyebrow. “what do you mean?”

“i don’t know, it’s just… i’ve noticed that matt is just… different. but like only with one person.”

her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as she tilted her head slightly. “who?”

“macy.” you said carefully, like her name was some sort of taboo subject. “it’s weird. he’s like a whole different person when she’s not around. like i feel like he’s more of himself when he’s away from her. when she comes around though, he gets all agitated and annoyed. i might be reading into shit but like… i don’t know.”

quen scoffed, but there was a slight hesitation in her voice. “that sounds like some weird shit, honestly.”

“yeah, i mean, it’s not like macy hasn’t caught on either,” you’d say. “she has! but she’s kinda brushing it off, choosing to ignore it. i just feel like she’s making excuses for him. god i just- i feel bad.”

“well who wouldn’t? like no one should treat their girlfriend like she’s trapping them.”

“yeah no, it’s bad. could you like… not mention this to her. she just- she gets all defensive and mad and she’ll probably realize i told you and i’m not trying to be messy i just needed to get this off my chest and stuff.”

“girl i gotchu. don’t worry.”

“thanks.” you mumble.

now it was time for the even bigger ones. the rumors that would really leave them questioning matt.

you sat beside larray, pretending to scroll through your phone as if what you were about to say was nothing. casual. just another piece of gossip in la.

“okay, so tell me why macy was saying matt’s been so busy with filming and working yesterday’s problem lately,” you murmured, keeping your tone light but just loud enough for larray to catch it.

larray raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “mmm, okay… and?”

you sighed dramatically, like you didn’t want to be messy but just had to spill. “and… quen told me she saw him at a bar the other night.” you paused for effect, giving larray a pointed look. “like… not the filimg. not working on his project. a bar.”

larray’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly. “bitch, what?!” he blinked, processing the information before shaking his head. “oh no. not this man lying through his motherfucking teeth and playing her in her face.”

“right?” you scoffed, biting your lip to hide the satisfied smirk threatening to form. “i mean, maybe there’s a good explanation, but… doesn’t it seem kinda weird?”

larray leaned back, crossing his arms, and gave you a look. “girl, ain’t no way. if my man told me he was working but was out getting going to bars n shit? he’d be single faster than he could even say single.”

“i knowwww,” you drawled, shaking your head, “but macy doesn’t suspect a thing.”

larray sucked his teeth, already mentally adding this to his list of things to bring up later. “ugh, these men. always something. i swear.”

you nodded, pretending to be concerned, but deep down, you knew this was exactly what you needed.

a few days after your conversation with larray, you decided that you’d get madison again. you and madison found yourselves grabbing drinks again, just like before. but this time? you came prepared even more.

“so… remember what i told you about matt last time?” you started, swirling your straw around in your drink, eyes carefully avoiding madison’s as if you were hesitant to even bring it up.

madison’s expression shifted, her brows furrowing slightly. “yeah… what about it?”

you bit your lip, leaning in a little closer like you were about to spill something big. “okay, so… i wasn’t gonna say anything ‘cause i didn’t wanna let macy’s business out into the open again, but… i’ve got more shit on that situation.”

madison’s eyes widened slightly. “girl, what happened?”

you sighed, feigning reluctance, but you wanted this. “so, macy mentioned something again the other day. she said matt’s been going out more—late nights, no explanation, just saying it’s ‘work stuff.’ but like… get this. when she asked him about it, he got defensive. like, super weird.”

madison’s frown deepened, concern flickering across her face. “defensive? over what though?”

“exactly!” you leaned back, arms crossed as if you were just as confused. “like, why get all worked up if you’ve got nothing to hide? and… i don’t know, macy mentioned she checked his location once and he wasn’t even where he said he’d be. she brushed it off, but…” you trailed off, letting the weight of your words hang between you.

madison’s lips pressed into a thin line. “no… that’s shady as hell. if he’s lying about where he’s at?” she shook her head. “girl, that’s not a good sign.”

“right?” you gave her a look that said you get it. “i mean, maybe it’s nothing… but macy’s too trusting. she doesn’t wanna believe he’d do anything like that. but…” you paused, lowering your voice slightly, “what if he is?”

madison’s jaw tightened, her protective instincts clearly kicking in. “ugh, poor macy. i hate that she’s going through this.”

you nodded, your expression perfectly laced with fake concern. “same. that’s why i told you… i didn’t wanna keep it bottled up. but, you know, i just… i feel bad keeping it all to myself.”

“no, no,” madison said softly, shaking her head. “i’m glad you told me. i’ll… i’ll keep an eye on things.”

after that night, things started falling into place exactly how you wanted.

a week or so later, you and quen were hanging out again, this time lounging at her apartment after a long day. casual vibes, just the two of you unwinding, but your mind? it was working overtime.

you waited until the conversation lulled, until the timing felt just right before you spoke up, your tone light but laced with just enough concern to hook her.

“so… remember what i told you about matt and macy the other day?” you said, fiddling absentmindedly with your phone like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

quen glanced over, her interest piqued immediately. “uh, yeah. why? what’s up?”

you sighed, leaning back against the couch like this was weighing heavy on you. “ugh… i wasn’t gonna say anything else, but i’ve been noticing it *a lot* more now. like, girl… it’s bad.”

quen’s brows furrowed, her attention fully locked in now. “how bad are we talking?”

“like… okay, so macy told me that matt’s been avoiding spending too much time with her lately,” you started, keeping your voice low and almost hesitant, like you were scared of even saying it. “she says he’s been making excuses. work, friends, whatever. but get this…” you paused for dramatic effect, watching quen lean in a little closer. “the other day? she said they were supposed to hang out, but matt bailed last minute, saying he had something with the boys. but… quen…” you bit your lip, looking conflicted.

“what?” quen pressed, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“one of my friends saw him that night. and he wasn’t with nick or chris,” you said, lowering your voice. “he was *with another girl.*”

quen’s jaw dropped, her expression flipping from curiosity to full-blown disbelief. “*bitch, what?!*”

“i know,” you murmured, shaking your head like you hated even saying it. “i didn’t believe it at first either. but then i heard it from *two* people. like… what the fuck is going on?”

quen sat up straighter, her lips pursed in frustration. “nah, that’s wild. and macy doesn’t know?”

“nope,” you said softly, shaking your head. “and i don’t know if i should be the one to tell her. i mean, she’s already brushing off so much. she’d probably just think i’m stirring shit.”

quen’s face hardened, her protective side flaring up. “that’s some *bullshit.* she deserves to know if matt’s acting shady like that.”

“i know,” you sighed, looking down, feigning conflict. “but… i don’t wanna be the one to ruin things, you know? i just… i don’t know what to do.”

quen shook her head, clearly irritated now. “girl, don’t worry. i’ll keep an eye on him. if he’s up to something shady, we’ll know.”

you gave her a small, grateful smile, nodding. “thanks, quen. i just… i needed to tell someone. this whole thing’s been eating at me.”

“don’t worry,” quen said firmly, her tone serious. “if that boy’s up to something, he won’t be able to hide it for long.”

and just like that, the wheels were turning. quen was on high alert now, watching matt like a hawk. you didn’t even have to do anything more—she’d handle the rest.

phase six: complete

phase seven: introduce macy to the matt treatment

phase seven was the hardest part.

everything up until now had been about laying the groundwork, planting little doubts in everyone’s minds. but this? this was about making macy feel something that wasn’t even real.

the thing is, matt was a great boyfriend. he wasn’t distant, he wasn’t sneaky, and he wasn’t out here treating macy the way he treated you. and that was the problem.

because if macy never felt the way you felt—if she never experienced the gut-wrenching, soul-crushing matt treatment—then she’d never leave him.

and that? that wasn’t part of the plan.

so, you had to get creative.

step one: distance. but not from matt—from macy’s side of things.

it started small.

“girl, why don’t you ever come out with us anymore?” quen had asked her one night after work, and you made sure you were just within earshot.

macy had laughed it off. “ugh, i know. matt and i have just been spending so much time together lately.”

“damn, glued to his hip, huh?” quen had joked, but the seed had been planted.

and you? you watered it.

“you know,” you said softly the next day, when it was just you and macy grabbing coffee, “it’s great that you and matt are so close, but… don’t you miss having time for yourself sometimes?”

macy frowned a little but shrugged. “not really. i like being with him.”

“of course,” you smiled, keeping your tone light. “but… i don’t know. sometimes too much time together can make things feel… suffocating, y’know? like, matt’s great, but maybe a little space wouldn’t hurt?”

she didn’t agree. not yet. but that’s the thing about seeds—they take time to grow.

step two: fake tension.

if matt wasn’t going to create the tension, you’d have to do it for him.

“ugh,” macy groaned one afternoon while scrolling through her phone. “matt’s been so stressed with everything lately.”

you leaned in, feigning concern. “what’s wrong?”

“just the usual… filming, editing, meetings… he’s been overwhelmed.”

you nodded, playing your part perfectly. “yeah… that’s a lot. has he been… different with you because of it?”

macy’s face scrunched up a bit, her mind already working through a scenario that didn’t exist.

“different how?”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged, keeping it vague on purpose. “sometimes guys get quiet when they’re stressed. pull away a little. they don’t even realize they’re doing it half the time.”

she didn’t say anything after that. but her silence? that was exactly what you wanted.

step three: paranoia.

this was where things got tricky. you had to be subtle, careful not to overplay your hand.

“hey, have you noticed matt texting more lately?” you asked casually one evening, like it was just a passing thought.

macy blinked, looking up from her drink. “huh?”

“oh, nothing,” you waved it off with a smile. “i just… i don’t know. when we were out the other night, i noticed he was on his phone a lot. but it’s probably nothing.”

but it was never nothing.

because now? macy’s mind was already spiraling.

and it worked.

little by little, macy started to feel the things you had felt.

the distance.

the doubt.

the sinking feeling in her gut that something wasn’t quite right, even though matt was still being the same perfect boyfriend he had always been.

but to macy? it wouldn’t feel that way anymore.

because now?

everything felt off.

phase seven: complete.

phase eight: start encouraging macy to break up with matt

phase eight was all about patience.

you knew macy wasn’t ready to let go just yet. she was still holding on, hoping things would get better with matt—even after all the doubts you’d planted.

but that was fine.

because this wasn’t a sprint. it was a marathon.

so you kept playing your part.

you spent more time with her, slowly becoming her confidant.

hangout one: thursday, july 17th, 12:14 pm

another brunch.

macy looked exhausted, her smile just a little less bright than usual.

“you okay?” you asked, keeping your tone light but concerned.

she gave a small shrug, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. “yeah… just tired, i guess.”

you let it go. didn’t push. just offered a soft smile and changed the subject to something easy.

hangout two: wednesday, july 30th, 11:37 pm

a late-night target run.

the conversation was effortless, jumping from one topic to another.

“ugh, i swear, i’m gonna end up living off frozen pizza and sour candy,” you joked, tossing a bag into the cart.

macy laughed, but her response was softer, almost distracted. “at least you know what you like.”

it was nothing. just a passing comment.

hangout three: friday, august 22nd, 10:43 pm

movie night at her place.

you both sat curled up on the couch, the glow of the tv flickering across the room.

“thanks for coming over,” macy murmured, almost too quietly to catch.

“of course,” you said softly, not making a big deal of it.

she didn’t say anything else.

but the way her shoulders relaxed just a little more as the night went on?

that wasn’t nothing.

but none of it stood out.

no lingering looks. no obvious smiles. no heavy silences.

just… a quiet comfort.

she started replying to your texts a little faster.

her invitations to hang out came a little more frequently.

and maybe—maybe—she seemed a little more at ease when it was just the two of you.

but it was subtle.

so subtle that even you didn’t catch it.

because phase eight wasn’t about that.

phase eight was about planting doubt.

and that?

that was working perfectly.

phase eight: complete

phase nine: watch as matt’s life falls apart completely

and this all brings us back to now.

matthew bernard sturniolo.

god, you couldn’t stand the man. but looking at him now—his life a complete mess—there was nothing sweeter. and the best part?

it was all because of you.

his friends had all turned their backs on him. larray, madison, quen—they didn’t look at him the same anymore. the doubt you’d planted in their minds had festered, grown, and twisted everything they once believed about matt.

larray? couldn’t trust matt after the whole “bar incident.” he’d barely speak to him now. anytime matt tried to reach out, larray would leave him on read or reply with some dry-ass response that made it painfully obvious he wasn’t interested. and when he did talk to him?

“girl, i’m busy. find someone else to lie to.”

madison? she kept her distance. she hadn’t confronted matt directly, but you could tell she was piecing everything together. the seeds of doubt you’d planted had bloomed beautifully, and now she didn’t even look at matt the same.

quen? she was the most direct.

“nah, matt,” she had said the last time he tried talking to her. “i don’t fuck with that weird shit. you’re different.”

and then there was macy.

sweet, sweet macy.

she had been the hardest to break. her love for matt was deep—genuine. it took time to unravel that.

but you did it.

every rumor. every carefully crafted conversation. every doubt you whispered in her ear.

it all led to this moment.

she had finally broken up with him.

you weren’t there to see it, but you could imagine how it went down. the tears in her eyes, her voice breaking as she confronted him.

“i just… i can’t do this anymore, matt.”

and matt?

probably standing there, dumbfounded, begging her to believe that none of it was true.

but it was too late.

you had made sure of that.

now, matt was left standing in the wreckage of his own life.

his friends? gone. his relationship? over. his reputation? in shambles.

and he had no idea who was pulling the strings.

you stood on the sidelines, watching it all crumble, a satisfied smirk tugging at your lips.

all that heartbreak? all that pain?

now, it was his turn to feel it.

and the best part?

he never even saw it coming.

but it wasn’t enough.

watching matt’s life fall apart had been… satisfying. no doubt. but it still didn’t give you the closure you needed. not yet.

because he still didn’t know.

and what fun would it be if he never found out?

no, matt needed to see you—face to face. he needed to look you in the eyes and realize who was behind it all. he needed to feel the weight of everything crashing down around him and know that it was your doing.

you needed that moment.

and as fate would have it, that moment was just around the corner.

macy had left something at matt’s place. she didn’t want to go back for it herself—too painful, too fresh—so, naturally, she asked you to grab it for her.

at first, you weren’t sure if it was a good idea. walking back into his space? after everything? but then, you realized…

this was your chance.

you’d have matt all to yourself. no macy. no friends. just you and him.

so, here you were. standing outside his apartment, heart pounding, pulse racing.

you knocked.

once.

twice.

the door swung open faster than you expected, and there he was.

matthew bernard sturniolo.

and he looked like shit.

dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, his expression was… tired. broken.

“cherry?” his voice was barely above a whisper, pure disbelief written all over his face.

you felt a sick sort of satisfaction bloom in your chest.

“matthew. it’s been a while. how’ve you been lately?” you asked, an almost sadistic smirk tugging at your lips.

he blinked, eyes wide, like he was seeing a ghost. “i-i… wha-what are you doing here?” his voice was barely above a whisper, shaky and unsure.

you tilted your head, feigning innocence. “you really haven’t figured that out yet?” your hand rested on your hip, your tone dripping with impatience. all this hard work, months of planning, and the boy didn’t even have a damn clue. how rude.

but what was even more insulting? the way this idiot had the nerve to shake his head. “n-no.”

wow.

“ugh, you’re as stupid as ever,” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “it was me, goddamn it. i did it. i’m the reason your sad, pathetic life is crumbling to pieces.”

the color drained from his face, eyes widening—not with confusion this time, but pure, unfiltered terror.

“why… why would you do something like that?” he asked, his voice barely holding together.

you rolled your eyes, a bitter laugh slipping out. “god, are you stupid?” your tone dripped with disdain. “you really don’t remember?”

his silence was answer enough.

“jesus christ, matt,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “four years. four fucking years, and you can’t even remember the shit you put me through?”

his lips parted, but no words came out.

“let me refresh your memory then.” you stepped closer, just enough to watch the panic build behind his eyes. “remember high school? how we did everything like a couple but you never wanted to put a label on it? all that ‘i’m not ready for a relationship yet’ bullshit? and me? i was so fucking stupid, i waited. i waited for you.”

matt’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak.

“but it didn’t stop there, did it?” you went on, voice dripping with venom. “no, you kept feeding me lies. you’re the only one who gets me, baby. one day, i’m gonna marry you, you know that?” you scoffed, eyes narrowing. “and like an idiot, i believed it. i believed you.”

his breathing was heavier now, chest rising and falling a little too quickly.

“then you left,” you hissed, your tone colder now. “moved to la. promised we’d make it work, that we’d talk every day, visit whenever we could.” you let out a bitter laugh. “but those calls? they got shorter. the texts? less frequent. until, eventually…” you paused, your gaze hardening as you locked eyes with him.

“you ghosted me.”

his face paled even more, if that was even possible.

“left me wondering what the fuck i did wrong. wondering why i wasn’t enough for you,” your voice cracked, but you swallowed the emotion down, refusing to let him see you break. “and just when i finally started to accept that maybe you weren’t coming back…” you tilted your head, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“i saw the pictures.”

matt’s breath caught in his throat.

“you. at that party. all over her.” the venom in your voice was impossible to miss. “while i was sitting at home, waiting for a text you were never going to send.”

matt opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“and that’s when i realized,” you said, leaning in just enough for your words to cut deeper. “i was never going to be enough for you. but that’s okay. because now?”

you smiled sweetly, though your eyes were anything but kind.

“you’re the one who’s left with nothing.”

you stood there, staring at him for a few seconds, letting the weight of your words sink in. you could see the way he was struggling to process it, the panic mixed with guilt. but it wasn’t your problem anymore. you had done what you came for, and that was all that mattered.

you let out a deep breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

“god, matt,” you muttered, the contempt thick in your voice. “you really are the worst.”

you turned your back on him, hearing him call your name weakly, but you didn’t stop.

"you're nothing but a liar and a coward," you threw over your shoulder. "so enjoy the mess you made. you deserve every bit of it."

without looking back, you walked towards your car, your heart pounding, but not from anger—no, from a strange kind of satisfaction. for the first time in years, it felt like everything was finally in place. like all the puzzle pieces had clicked together, and you had everything you needed.

you slid into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. you could still hear him shouting your name, but it didn’t matter anymore. his voice was nothing now.

you put the car in drive, the engine rumbling to life, and slowly pulled away from the curb.

as you made your way home, your mind wandered back to macy.

phase ten

you couldn’t help but smile, the anticipation building. it had been a slow burn, but now, things had shifted in ways you hadn’t even expected. what started as a plan to destroy matt had turned into something much more unexpected. you had gotten under his skin—and now, macy’s too.

the thought of macy, her soft lips against yours, the way she started leaning into you more and more, her touch lingering a little longer than it should’ve—none of it had been planned. but here you were, with a beautiful, broken mess of a boyfriend’s ex, and she was yours now.

you smiled to yourself as you sped down the road, your thoughts consuming you.

phase ten: ravish your new girlfriend's body completely.

and just like that, the plan was over. the game had changed. you didn’t need revenge anymore—you had her.

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

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saintsenara · 2 days ago

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Top five most kinky Harry Potter characters vs top ten least kinky Harry Potter characters, go.

Personally I think Voldemort is probably into roleplay.

thank you very much for the ask, anon. what an important question.

the top five ten kinky legends in the series are obviously:

1. harry potter, who hears mcgonagall say the word "wood" and immediately thinks he's going to be caned. 2. peeves. he's the ultimate switch: filch's dom - in public, no less! - but the bloody baron's sub. 3. parvati patil, since she canonically fancies a horse and isn't shy about letting people know it. 4. percy weasley. he spends most of chamber of secrets fucking in public places and clearly gets off on the thrill of being caught, and then in prisoner of azkaban it's revealed that he and penelope also have a findom dynamic to their relationship. 5. rodolphus lestrange. let's be real, he invented the cuck chair. 6. nagini, who makes dozens of people watch - for fucking hours, presumably, given how long it takes snakes to finish a meal - as she eats charity burbage. 7. barty crouch jr. - he involves the entire government in his daddy kink, leaves several people dead while doing it, and doesn't even get to enjoy the newly-resurrected voldemort whacking on a double-breasted suit and saying he's proud of him. 8. dobby, who would make such a good sadist dom if he did the basic fucking work of understanding that you have to ask other people's permission before you try to break their bones with cursed bludgers. 9. petunia. idk i just get a vibe from her. 10. horace slughorn, who canonically ejaculates in a room full of people.

and the ten vanilla heroes? well, they're obviously:

1. hermione granger. she canonically doesn't enjoy anything too out of the ordinary - she likes candles and things being as expected and receiving lots of eye contact from her hot husband, and i love that for her. 2. nearly headless nick, who's clearly excluded from the headless hunt because they know he wouldn't enjoy the fact that they're swingers. 3. albus dumbledore. not because i think his tastes don't align with the kinkier side of life, but because he's unwilling to live a little and try out a bit of exploratory fun. although this is understandable, given what aberforth's into... 4. crookshanks, who famously disapproves of any form of rowdiness and who hates canonical voyeur peter pettigrew. 5. dolores umbridge, due to her canonical revulsion for monster-fucking. 6. borgin, who wants no part in either lucius or draco malfoy's attempts to dominate him. 7. james and lily potter. they absolutely fuck - obviously - but i think the reason they fuck so well is because they stick to the fucking they're good at. 8. cornelius fudge, because if he was into kink then he'd enjoy scrimgeour negging him in front of the prime minister more than he canonically does. 9. sirius black, which i accept is a controversial one, but his repeated failure to take the hint in order of the phoenix that both snape and kreacher want him to tie them up and call them a little bitch means it's the only viable conclusion... 10. draco malfoy, as a natural reaction to being made to observe his father's flagrant humiliation kink while the dark lord lives in their house.

and when it comes to lord voldemort himself? well, the thing we have to remember is that deviance thrives on the subversion of expectations.

which is to say, the idea that voldemort would be into things like blood-play and leather gimp masks and humiliating his partners? stale. flavourless. tired. uninspiring.

the idea that he's got a praise kink, wants to be showered with presents and gently caressed, and gets off on being told how worthy of love he is? objectively correct.

#asks answered

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little-miss-apple · 3 days ago

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Hii I loved your one shots! Would you be willing to do one where Caleb is sick and hiding from MC again so she decides to get him to comply by doting on him and wearing a sexy nurse costume.

((gonna be really honest, i took some creative liberties with this request on accident... im not 100% happy with it but i feel like if i dont post it now, i'll never do it... also keep telling myself to writer shorter stories, but i like to suffer... hope u like it a bit regardless))

Whatever was the opposite of ‘the man flu’ is, Caleb had it. No matter how many times you had pushed him back into his bedroom, he kept sneaking out, claiming he couldn't leave all the chores to you.

You just wanted to take care of him, let him rest and sit back while you took care of the house and him for once. But Caleb is like a working cow, the life energy leaving him whenever he's not on the field... or whatever the saying is.

You were dancing and sining around the kitchen, absorbed in the music while grabbing more ingredients for the stew you were cooking. Sure, you were never as great of a chef as Caleb, but you could make him some healthy stew at least. Easy to digest and packed with vitamins.

"Needs some more curry powder, pips..." His unusually weak voice says from behind you.

You let out a yelp, having been to engrossed in the music to notice him sneaking out of his room again.

"Holy shit, Caleb!"

He fake gasps.

"Language, pipsqueak!" He says with a teasing glint in his tired eyes.

"I told you to stay in bed," you scold, hands on his chest as you try to push him away from the stove and back to his room. "You think just because you're a colonel now you can ignore my orders?"

He lets out a weak chuckle as his hands come up to hold your face.

"I wouldn't dare... who knows what you'd write about me in that little grudge ledger of yours..."

Of course he has to bring that up again...

"But seriously, pipsqueak, I'm feeling a lot bet--" He starts to cough mid sentence.

"Liar." You mutter as you turn to grab him a glass of water, handing it to him while patting his back gently. When his coughing fit dissapates, you lead him back to his room, ignoring any protests.

"Caleb, why is it so impossible for you to just let me take care of you for once?" You ask when his tired frame is back in bed, posted up against the headboard.

A blush, unrelated to his fever, creeps up on his cheeks.

"...I want to be the one taking care of you. I want- No, I have to protect you... That's my role, pips..."

For a moment you are unsure what to tell him...

"Just... get some rest, okay? I'll bring you some stew when it's ready..."

You feel his eyes on you as you leave the room, he wants to say more. This discussion isn't a new one, but both of you know that right now he doesn't have the energy for this.

You're mindlessly stirring the pot of stew, his words about his role replaying in your head. If that is his role, what is yours? And what role do you have to take on to be able to take care of him? Then it hits you and within seconds you have an order placed.

Bless Skyhaven and it's drone speed delivery service, because within half an hour your new uniform has arrived. It was quite a bit shorter than you had imagined, but maybe you should have expected that. It was a halloween costume after all and not a real nurse's uniform.

The uniform is a light pink dress with red lining, a little nurse cap and matching stockings. A little red heart with white cross emblem is found on the cap and one the chest of the dress. It even comes with a hot pink plastic stethoscope and syringe. You don't even want to imagine Zayne and Yvonne's faces if they ever caught you like this...

Uniform on, tray with stew and the syringe in hand and with the stethoscope around your neck, you walk into the lion's den.

"Good evening, Mr Caleb. Your stew is ready!" you say as cheerful as possible.

His eyes grow incredibly wide the moment he lays eyes on you.

"Pips-"

"Nuh-uh, that's nurse Pipsqueak to you mister!" You say as you sit down on the edge of the bed, grabbing the bowl and spoon, blowing on it before guiding it towards his mouth.

He looks at you, a bit unsure for a second before finally daring to take a bite.

"W-what's with the uniform...?"

"Well, since you said it's your role to take care of me, I thought i should adjust my role so i can be the one to take care of you now... Say 'ah'." You explain while feeding him another bite.

His eyes never leave you. Not when you feed him, not when you put his clean laundry in his drawers, even when you leave his room he asks you to keep the door open so he can continue taking secret glances when you bend over while cleaning, giving him a perfect view of your panties. In return he does everything you say, no protests, staying in his room and even taking the medicine he claimed he didn't need earlier today.

It doesn't take long for a healthier glow to return to his face and, according to the thermometer you are currently holding to his head; "Your fever has gone down significantly.. If you keep this up you'll be all good again tomorrow!" Your smile is bright but he can't help but frown a bit.

"You should sleep early! Getting enough shut eye is crucial to a speedy recovery!" you say as you get up, ready to leave his room and shed off the costume, but he holds you back. His fingers wrap around your wrist and he looks up at you with those puppy like eyes, an uncharacteristic darkness to them as he pulls you back down.

"Nurse... I have another problem..."

He gently guides your hand under the covers, his eyes never leaving your confused face. Before long your hand is put on something thick and hard. Your eyes shoot wide open in bewilderment, but his gaze doesn't falter. Just the light touch of your hand where he needs you most has his chest rising and falling in a quickened tempo already.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, unsure of what to say.

"You know Ms Nurse, I've heard sweating out a fever is quite effective..." his hand slides from your wrist, instead entrapping your hand in his so he can apply some pressure, making you cup his rock hard cock a bit tighter "Won't you help your patient, hm? Make him feel better?"

The feeling of him in your hand, the way he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and the seductive tone in his voice make you involuntarily rub your thighs together, craving friction to your already wetting core. It doesn't go unnoticed by Caleb, he knows he has you exactly where he wants you now.

Within seconds the covers are slung to the side and he is sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread apart, inviting you between them. Your hesitation is quickly thrown to the side when you see his shape through his grey sweatpants. You kneel in between his legs, noticing the semblance of a smirk forming on his face as you quickly start tugging at the waistband of his sweats.

You're taken by surprise a bit when his rock hard cock basically jumps out, smacking against his stomach. No matter how many times you see it, the intimidation from the size of it never leaves. Your fingers gently trail over the veins as you nervously swallow the saliva that had been pooling in your mouth.

Carefully you begin to stroke his length, receiving instant affirmation that you're doing well as soft curses leave his lips. You let your thumb glide over the tip, spreading around some of his pre cum to help lubricate. You notice the muscles that are peeking from under his shirt contract with your every move.

"Come on, pips... Put your mouth on it..."

Wanting so desperately to please him, you waste no time, spitting on it before your lips quickly envelope around his velvety tip.

"Fuck, you feel so good..."

Eagerly you take more and more of him in your mouth, not stopping until he hits the back of your throat. Whatever doesn't fit is massaged by your hand. You cant help but let your other hand wander between your own legs, playing with yourself through the fabric of your panties. It's sticky and messy, but feels oh so good. The vibrations of your moans as you bop up and down his length make him feel euphoric.

The sight of you like this, tits almost spilling out of your dress, your focussed face as you desperately try to please him and rubbing your clit, it almost makes him cum on the spot. His hand tangles into your hair, applying a light pressure when you go down on his cock. God, you feel heavenly.

But he wants more.

The second he notices you getting sloppy, so close to rubbing yourself to release, he pulls your head back. The sight of your confused and fucked out face makes his cock twitch.

"Not yet..." he growls, at your frustrated pout. His shirt is pulled over his head and casted aside.

His lips surge towards yours, capturing them in an all devouring kiss. It's messy and chaotic. Tongues clashing, drool spilling and lip bruising. He pulls away a bit, admiring your hazy eyes and plump lips, before pulling down your lower lip with his thumb. He spits in your mouth, a proud smirk adorning his lips.

In one quick motion you are thrown onto your all fours on the bed and your costume is hiked up to your waist, giving Caleb a perfect view of your ass in those cute panties of yours. To be fair, all your panties were cute to Caleb, as long as they are yours. But right now, they're in his way.

He pulls them to the side, taking note of the string of wetness attached to it. He throws his head back for a moment, eyes closed and breaths steady as he tries to compose himself down.

Wondering what is taking him so long, you turn your head around, only for him to suddenly align himself with your entrance and begin pushing himself fully into your sopping pussy. A strangled moan leaves your throat as your arms quickly give out, causing your head to fall into the sheets. Caleb's hands snake to rest on your waist, pulling you further onto his cock with every stroke. His tempo increases, balls slapping against your clit and making you dizzy with pleasure.

Caleb loves the way you clench around him, the way he is moulding your pussy with his cock. Your combined juices are dripping down his thighs, fuelling him more and more, but he is also aware that he isn't full himself yet. His usual vigour isn't fully recovered yet, making his strokes rather messy and inconsistent. Frustrated he pulls out, making you snap back, confused why he has suddenly stopped pounding into that good spot.

"You need to ride me."

He leaves no room for questions, already hoisted up against the headboard, pulling you into his lap. He aligns you with his still rock hard cock, pushing you down on his length. You whimper at the new position, feeling him in a different way all of a sudden. The cute sounds make him smile and he presses a gentle kiss against your forehead.

"Ready baby?"

You nod, eager to try a position you're not that familiar with. You're about to lift yourself up, but a familiar feeling takes over instead. Caleb's evol makes you feel weightless, unbound from the laws of gravity. His hands are still on your waist, his pointer finger going up and down in the same pattern as your body.

The feeling of weightlessness continuously exchanged by the feeling of gravity pulling you down adds a whole new sensation, similar to riding a rollercoaster with steep highs and lows. The speed of his finger increases and so do you. He fucks you onto his dick with little effort, enjoying the way your face contours in pleasure and your tits bounce up and down right in front of his face.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a familiar heat flow from your cores to the tips of your limbs. He can feel it too, the way your moans become more frequent and less controlled and the way you clench onto him more tightly. He is about to burst too, ready to coat your walls in his milky cum. His grip on your waist tightens as he can't help but use some more of his own strength.

"You close, baby? You wanna come on my dick?"

"Yes, yes, yes.. please..." you beg him breathlessly, so close to the edge that it makes your tear up.

He bucks up his hips, slamming into you whenever you go down, hitting a spot so deep inside that it makes you gasp. With the limited energy he has he keep repeating the motion until you let out a string of curses, clenching onto his cock and milking him to his own orgasm.

You can feel all the strength leave your body when you are hit with the hard, warm waves of your orgasm, limbs growing weak within the blink of an eye. You feel Caleb's cum fill you up, making you feel full and satiated. When he has completely emptied his balls inside you, the hold his evol had on you relents and you fall into his chest. And like always, he catches you. Holding you close as he whispers words of affirmation in your ear.

"You did so well... made me feel so good.. 'nd you looked so beautiful on my cock... such a pretty girl..." The words keep spilling from his lips as he pulls out and scoots down with you on his chest. Both of you are too tired to make another move, both unable to fight the tiredness taking over.

Sunlight hits your face, waking you up from the peaceful slumber you spent nestled in his muscular side. Caleb, who seems as healthy as ever, is already awake and seated against the headboard as he checks reports he missed from work. His hand is on your head, gently brushing his fingers through the strands.

"You're awake, pips?"

You groan a bit in response and stretch, only now noticing you are no longer in the nurse costume and instead in the shirt Caleb discarded yesterday.

"Where's my dress?" you ask curiously.

"Threw it in the laundry.. I cleaned you off too but we should probably take a shower, we can save some water and take one together..."

"tsk... sounds like you're all better." you scoff trying to hide your grin.

"Had a great nurse..." he smiles teasingly.

"Maybe I should change career paths... I'll ask Zayne if he's in need of an extra nurse.."

"Nope," Caleb swiftly lifts you into his lap "Only I get the privilege of being cared for by you... Especially in that outfit."

His hands find their way to your cheeks before he plants a kiss on your lips.

"Now, let's get you all cleaned up, pipsqueak!"

#caleb x mc #lads #lads caleb #lnds caleb #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #caleb #calebmc #caleb smut #lads smut #xia yizhou #xia yizhou smut #lnds smut #lnds

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aquaaquila · 23 hours ago

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If said conversation with the love of her life would end up in him having a mental breakdown that could lead to akumatization then he might as well wait for better timing than less of a year from the death of his abuser. It's literally not about her, it's about Adrien's happiness and well-being, and telling him the truth would absolutely destroy him.

Marinette herself is already used to fixing the mistakes of others and making things right, but there's no right way to handle Gabriel. After all, if you tell the truth, you doom pretty much everybody because everybody would face the consequences of Gabriel's actions but Gabriel. The lie isn't here the correct and most moral option but with how this show works, it's literally the only option as any other leads to an even bigger disaster.

While I agree Alya should be more than a black best friend, it's really too late to make such complaints now. That's the basis of her character and her role. Whenever she did act outside of it, people either didn't like it or it was also disastrous. In the end, Marinette is the main character so of course everything revolves around her even if it shouldn't always be like that. Alya was upset with Marinette but she's also ride or die BFF and that's incredible of her, however, Adrien is her bestie too hence she wouldn't be able to lie to him in the long run like that as well as it goes against her own ideals, but once again she AGREED to this.

Oh boo hoo, a teenage girl who is clearly not equipped to deal with such issues like abuse makes a wrong call, how selfish of her 🙄. Not like she feels responsible for everything that happened and tried her best to do the damage control as she thought it would be okay while having virtually nobody properly help her out on this. Marinette literally shouldn't be the one to make such a call and yet she's still forced by everyone to do so anyway. She's literally not acting out of selfish malice, she literally just has no idea how to handle this issue but still tries the best option possible, even though all options she's given are shit.

Like how vile you are as a person to still go around and blame Marinette for the way she's written? You say you hate how the writers made the show an abuse apologist show, and yet you hold Marinette accountable, though arguably she's one of the bigger victims of said abuse in question. Of course, what the writers did was bad, I'm not denying that, I'm not denying they indeed made it an abuse apologism, but Marinette is not the one to blame here.

Lying to your boyfriend about his abuser is bad, but somehow breaking down a harsh truth that everyone knows would utterly destroy him is somehow better. Adrien might as well off himself after learning all the horrible stuff, or you know, turn into a villain maybe even worse than Chat Blanc for all Marinette knows.

My whole point is not about Marinette NOT BEING WRONG, my whole point is that Marinette is not to blame for everything wrong happening. Any option Marinette would take, she would be in the wrong. I bet that if she did come clean right away, people would hate her for "ruining Adrien's life" because obviously once he learned the truth there would never be any real normalcy for him, something he already expressed he craves.

Like, tell me moral justice warrior how do you expect the conversation to go without it ending up in a disaster. The conversation about Gabriel being good was already disastrous as it was.

Said man emotionally manipulated 200 people and plenty of them also didn't know him personally. And it's not like she doesn't have any personal connections to him either, he is her father-in-law. She doesn't need to like him to have a connection with him. He still made HER responsible for his actions so whether Marinette likes it or not, she's still screwed by him.

Marinette's stalking is a completely different issue here so don't change the subject. Nobody approves of Marinette's stalking and you know it so don't turn this thing around. Pretending to be akumatized was pathetic but ultimately harmless. Sublime literally didn't feel threatened by it or take it even seriously. And it's not like Marinette did episode didn't admit to making a mistake and taking full accountability for it. Like seriously stop expecting Marinette to be perfect and not make mistakes, this girl is a wreck and she has every right to be a wreck after 6 seasons of this BS.

"Sneak" is generous considering both Nathalie and Adrien let her in willingly. And I'm sorry but what the fuck was she supposed to do with the Amok. The Akuma was inside, was she supposed to let Adrien be in that giant trophy forever, and for his grandparents to be supervillains forever? She literally didn't want to break the rings but once again, no choice or control for that matter.

And even if Adrien knew about the Amok, the situation would still unfold. Besides, are you really this shortsighted to not take into consideration that Adrien absolutely would have an existential crisis over him being a sentimonster? Like do you actually care about what's best for Adrien or are you just trying to hate on Marinette? Because last time I checked, Kagami, Felix, Nathalie, and Alix also know everything and yet they do nothing.

Marinette literally does everything in her power so her boyfriend can in fact make decisions for himself, but the truth won't suddenly make Adrien able to make decisions for himself. More than anything the truth in question might as well motivate him further to actually not take control over his life because as far as he's aware: he's not a real person, merely a magical being without its own true will, his father designed everything so Adrien would be his trophy, his girlfriend lost and got screwed over because of it and did everything she could on her own when she shouldn't have been on her own, everyone in his family went along with the lies, so please tell me, how can Adrien somehow be liberated by knowing all this? Like "I'm so free because I know my entire life is shit, hurray!".

Maybe Marinette should actually have a support system to help with her issues. Maybe ADRIEN should have a support system to help with his issues that isn't just his girlfriend. Maybe the kids shouldn't be in charge of such big secrets.

Marinette is not a terrible person for making wrong calls, the wrong calls she regrets and would rather not do. The universe literally forced Marinette to Gaslight, Gatekeep, and Girlboss, starting with Tikki, then Fu, then Bunnyx, then Nathalie, and the entire universe for that matter. But nooooo, let's blame a teen girl for everything, how progressive. The miraculous fandom would rather engage in sexism and misogyny than hold the actual abusers accountable

Honestly, in my opinion, Marinette saying she doesn't trust Chat Noir for THIS reason did nothing but VALIDATE Alya in her anger.

Cause all that Marinette actually says to Alya here is that Marinette doesn't want Chat Noir to know because she thinks it's way too likely that Chat wouldn't stand for that lie either and not knowing who the boy underneath Chat's mask is would leave Marinette helpless if Chat were to flip her off and just decide to tell Adrien the truth as civilian behind her back.

Like, that's literally all Marinette said to Alya here. Even if she probably didn't even realize it, it nothing but VALIDATED Alya in her opinion that telling Adrien is the right thing to do because now she being told by Marinette that Chat would side with her, ALYA, and not Ladybug if he knew.

So from Alya's perspective, it's Marinette vs both of her partners who she deliberately keeps in the dark BECAUSE she suspects they wouldn't agree with her.

Which is ironic cause Alya started this conversations asking if this is a Ladybug and Chat Noir vs Rena Rouge situation, only to find out it's Chat Noir and Rena Rouge vs Ladybug.

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cremeful · 2 days ago

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AITA FOR SLEEPING WITH MY STEP SISTER AND LYING TO MY "GIRLFRIEND" ABOUT IT ?

• r/AmItheAsshole / 16.4M Members

My girlfriend (f25) and i (m26) did causal hookups which turned into what she calls dating and what i call keeping her around for fun. She thinks everything we do is real. the dates every other month, the love you's and whatever else comes with a real relationship.

she constantly brings up wanting to meet my family and i avoid the question more times than many because meeting my family is basically a silent confirmation that our "relationship" is serious.

i know most of you reading this is probably saying to yourselves " why not breakup with her?" and i really don't have an answer to your question.

eventually i do get sick of her asking and give in and say yes, not because i came to my senses but because I'm tired of hearing the same question every other month.

The following week comes around and we are at my place saying introductions to my parents when i notice that my little (f20) sister is nowhere to be seen and before i could ask my father her whereabouts, she is running down the stairs yelling the nickname that stuck throughout our childhood, "RAFEYYYYYY!"

let me clarify a few things before i admit to fucking my sister on the internet, she is my step sister.

the dinner goes well enough for my girlfriend to stop asking about any other family gatherings but eventually she becomes skeptical of the type of relationship me and my sister have.

she constantly brings up how my sister is to attached to me, her touches are intimate for us to just be close and my sister needs to find her own friends and stop hanging around me 24/7.

i guess you could say this is a big strain in our "relationship" due to my sister always being around. We eventually end up having an argument about it, which she questions if i ever slept with my sister.

of course i did but i won't admit it to her, what fucking idiot would admit something like that? so i lied and told her "no, she is just my sister. she acts the way she does because she never had an older brother and she trusts me more than anyone." she believed it.

rafe doesn't even know why he is confiding in random strangers on the internet about him hating his girlfriend and fucking his sister. yet that doesn't stop him from posting his half confession and from reading the comments.

Read Comments.

tophat: dude. there's no way you fucking posted this.. • original poster: you see the fucking post don't you? maybankkk: where's the rest??? • original poster: ur a loser if you think i would ever post about how i fucked my sister. i don't need sick fucks like you to get any ideas about that shit.

rafe remembers every detail about that day. he had you laid out on his bed whining and panting as he left dark red and purplish marks on your collarbones, you weakly push at his shoulders trying to get him to let up on your sensitive body but he just laughs and pins your arms down.

your hips pushed up against his thigh that is slotted in between your legs, he moves away from your collarbone, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to collect his spit and smearing it against your hardening nipples, you let out a gasp, the stimulation between your cunt pressed up against his thigh and him playing with your nipples becomes to much; you've always been so sensitive.

he pushes your hips down, " always so needy." he says it tauntingly, like you're an ungrateful child. he moves from in between your legs as you were about to protest he tells you to relax and that he isn't going anywhere.

Rafe has never been this gentle or intimate with anyone let alone his girlfriend, he should feel bad about that he is cheating on his girlfriend but how can he when he has you so desperate and clinging on for more.

he is at your side now with your legs spread open, he uses his middle and ring finger to rub circles against your clit, you moan. "yeah, you feel good sweetheart?" he says it so softly, you nod as he slots his fingers in between your folds collecting the wetness and pulling away and seeing the line of slick, " oh my god.." his voice is breathless, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks on your arousal without hesitation like its the most normal thing he has done.

it was embarrassing, you were embarrassed by his actions because it was perverted, yet you don't stop him from leaning in and kissing you despite him just tasting you from your most intimate parts, he groans deepening the kiss, pressing his pelvis up against your unclothed cunt. your hands find their way into his hair, fingers become entangled as he begins to rock his hips up and down; dry humping you.

you beg him to take his boxer off so you can "feel him better" and that you "just want to be close to him" and who is he not to give you what you want? as he removes his boxers, he hears you asking if you can be on top of him.

so here you are, on top of your step brother with his cock slotted in between your dripping cunt like it belongs there. you look down to see where you two are connected and smile, "so cute, you like the way we look together huh?" rafe says it so softly as he puts his hand on your hips and guides you back and fourth, you watch as his cock disappears into your cunt and his tip bumps into your clit.

rafe is sure this is how he dies, from dry humping his step sister. the grip he has on your hips tighten as he moves your hips faster. you gasp, the burn in your stomach comes to quick, he just sat you on his cock and you're already about to cum from a few love taps by the tip of his cock. you cry out, the grip on his shoulder becomes tighter, you shake your head trying to convince yourself not to cum but rafe knows you to well " awe, come on baby. its okay, make your big brother proud."

indeed you did make him proud. so no rafe doesn't feel bad for lying to his girlfriend nor does he feel bad for giving you the intimacy and love that he is supposed to be giving his "girlfriend".

#𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓽𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮 ₊🍨 ˚#stepbro!rafe #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe smut #rafe x y/n #rafe imagine #stepbro!rafe x stepsis!reader #hmm idk how i feel about this but lets see if others enjoy!#BRING DRY HUMPING BACKK!

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accioprocrastination · 2 days ago

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Phone Calls Home

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: Two snapshots of girl dad Jake calling home.

I know I said it was a one shot but this is technically another follow up to His Girls but can be read alone.

A/N: I haven't proof read this and don't think it's any good but releasing it from the drafts for you

Masterlist

GIF by unicornships

Jake leaves the hard deck early enough to get the bunk to himself. Finally free from the background noise, he's dialling your number before he's even taken his jacket off.

"Hey." You grumble sleepily.

"Shit did I wake you up?" Jake responds looking at the time and finally registering the time difference - it's the middle of the night back home.

"I can go." Jake says instantly.

You wipe your eyes to force yourself to be more alert. "No don't go - it's nice to hear your voice. I wasn't really sleeping anyway. Abs it at a sleepover and you know what she's like, I'm surprised she hasn't called me to pick her up already." You respond.

Jake smirks at the memory and retorts "Last time you made me get up at 3 am to go get her, so it is your turn."

You feign outrage. "You jumped at the chance to go because Ivy had colic. Both were bad options but you know picking up Abbie was the better one!"

He giggles because you've called him out.

"How was your day?" You ask him.

"Meh." He responds.

"Wow, that good?" you ask.

"It was okay - it's nice to see some of the squad again but I miss you guys." Jake answers.

"We miss you too." You respond - neither of you acknowledging it's only been a couple of days. God only knows how much longer he's going to be gone.

"It's quiet without you here... Well maybe not quiet with Ivy's singing but you know what I mean." You reply missing having him here to chat to.

"I feel like an awful parent for missing their events." Jake confesses as tears of guilt fill his eyes. You'd wipe them away if you were with him.

His voice falters as he admits, "I feel like I'm missing loads of them growing up. I took the training job to be home more and I don't feel like I have been."

"That science project is pretty much yours Jake, short of presenting it for her there's nothing else you could do to help her." You retort.

"And I'll record the play for you even if I have to hold my phone up for two hours." You assure him.

Jake smirks slightly in response, he's mentally transported to the last time you were in this scenario and your hand shake made the video almost unwatchable.

He nods, internally already feeling homesick.

"You're a great dad to them." You say after he's silent in thought for a beat.

Jake's eyebrows are scrunched together in worried thought before he says, "I love you."

"I love you too" you reciprocate wishing you could make him believe everything you've just said.

"Are you going to be okay without me?" he questions voice breaking again as he begins to spiral about being far from home.

"We'll be okay I promise, you don't need to worry." You assure him.

Jake will never vocalise how uneasy he finds it away from home. He's seen your depression at it's worst and he knows if your pills stopped working you wouldn't be able to look after the kids. You've been medicated since right after you met him, so he knows it's stupid to think about that but it doesn't stop him - especially if he has to go no contact.

He can't tell you it's no contact indefinitely from next week.

Fanboy comes in and starts chatting his ear off as Jake gestures at the phone and for him to shut up.

"I've got to go. I'll call you soon." Jake promises.

"Okay." you yawn before adding, "text me when you get bored, I miss hearing your random thoughts throughout the day."

And to think we wondered where Abbie gets her anxiety about being away from home, she's just like him.

A few days pass before Jake's able to call Abbie to get the lowdown on the sleepover she went to. He knows he's on a time crunch already as Fanboy walks past the window for the second time in 5 minutes.

"I wish I could be there to see it baby." Jake says in response to his daughter talking about her science fair tomorrow.

"Thanks for helping me with it." She responds quietly, afraid to speak up and tell him how much she's missing him.

"It was actually really fun." He admits with a smile. "Much better than when you ask for help with your English homework." he adds making her laugh.

"Yeah because you're my go to person for that." She sarcastically rolls her eyes on the other end of the phone, both of them aware that he's the worst person to ask for help on that subject.

"How's your sister?" Jake asks hesitantly knowing her answer will only make him miss them more.

"Loud!" Abbie sighs.

"How's her practice going for her play?" He persists.

Abbie laughs, "I don't think you'll be missing anything there Dad."

He chuckles despite the wave of homesickness that hits him, "that bad?"

"She's less musically inclined than you and mum put together. I don't know how I'm going to keep a straight face through the play." she worries making him smirk.

"Yeah. I wanted to ask actually is a-" She gets cut off by you talking to her In the background.

"What's she saying?" Jake asks.

"She said she's still okay to record the play for you as long as you don't complain about the video not being central." Abbie says.

Jake laughs again at the memory - wanting to play it back for Abbie to understand how horrendous it was.

"I miss you." Abbie says quietly.

Jake silently nods, feeling a lump in his throat from his unspoken longing to come home.

"I miss you too." he says voice breaking slightly as Phoenix, Fanboy and Bob signal him to hurry up.

"I've got to go Abs but I will call you back as soon as I can." Jake promises, coughing to cover up the wobble in his voice. "I love you guys."

"Bye Dad." She whispers.

"Bye Abs." He says heart momentarily cracking as he hangs up.

Tags:

@onlyrealjoy - There's plenty more where this came from!

A/N: I just finished reading the new hunger games book so my drafts are getting really angsty but I feel like my heart has been ripped out 😭

#jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #tgm #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #hangman x reader #top gun fic #top gun au #hangman angst #jake hangman fic #top gun #hangman imagine #top gun hangman

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witherby · 17 hours ago

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chef who do you think would be the most to least willing to be the subject of mousey's makeovers? imagine like young mousey just learnt makeup and is now trying to practice the skills of makeup on someone

-🕯

Oh, fun question! Makeup is genderless, so to me that doesn't play a factor in willingness here! None of these characters' egos are going to be bruised by eyeliner.

Who's okay to endure a makeover?

Most Willing:

Bruce: he's regularly and routinely wearing a full face and airbrushing any exposed skin so that the general public doesn't see a Brucie full of battle scars. He's so used to this that he can coach you through the best application practices without looking. Beats having to do it himself.

Jason: got into makeup to cover up the J carved into his cheek. He's fine to let you doll him up a bit. Will even request certain colors for his eyes and lips.

Alfred: massive theatre nerd and former professional actor! He wore stage makeup for shows, and that stuff is thick. Of course Flittermouse can dab some blush on his cheeks and give him a smokey eye. He slays and serves every day.

Barry: why not? Uncle Bare is down for whatever, and he thinks it's really cool what sorts of designs you can put on your face. Go nuts!

Dick: He was going to ask to do your make-up first. He's so pretty he doesn't need it, but that doesn't matter. He wants to blind people with the amount of highlighter he slaps on. He needs the brightest, boldest, glitteriest look you can offer him. He graduated Top of his Cunt at the Unislaysity of Mother. Werk, bitch.

Dinah: thinks the act of doing your makeup is very soothing! She'd love to do some fun looks with you!

Indifferent to Make-up:

J'onn: could take it or leave it. Just put it on his human disguise, not his actual skin, and he'll let you do whatever you want.

Oliver: it's fine. He's also famous and wants to look nice for the cameras so he knows the song and dance with products. Just don't get it in his sorry excuse for a beard (Bruce's words) and you can do whatever you want.

Victor: It's not his favorite activity on the planet. If you're not careful, you could get product in his machine parts and that'll be a bitch to clean, but he trusts you and doesn't care if you wanna give him a matte lip and contour.

Diana: will oblige if you insist. Her skin is flawless so she's never had a need for it, but she is pretty tolerant to anything and will put up with a mascara wand in the eye if it means spending some time with you.

Tim: same as Diana. He's got a good skincare routine going on to give himself a nice, natural glow, but if you insist upon winged eyeliner and a bold, dramatic lip, he'll tell you what colors he prefers.

Unwilling to get a Makeover:

Arthur: won't go near it, even if you're toting brands that are vegan and cruelty free. Besides, there's no such thing as waterproof makeup. Water resistant, certainly, but he can't go rule Atlantis with a full beat and still come out of the water looking fresh twelve hours later. That shit's coming off.

Hal: Yeah no, it's a sensory nightmare and he's a chronic face-toucher. It's a shame because he would love to try it out and all the colors look super fun, but it will either end up smudged all over his face and hands in 30 minutes, or he'll need to tap out because it's so cold and goopy.

Clark: I think he just wouldn't like it! With his super senses it would probably feel like a big mess on his face, and he seems to be a pretty clean, meticulous person. Plus I like to think he doesn't have any pores on account of my "Kryptonians are actually lil freaks that make humans uncomfortable" headcanons, so it's not gonna lay right. If you get too close to his face he swerves into Uncanny Valley really fast, and Fenty Beauty foundation won't help with that.

Damian: not interested for the same reasons as Arthur. Big makeup companies are always doing animal testing, even if they don't explicitly advertise it. That's horrific! Get that setting powder away from him posthaste!

#el speaks #littlest wayne au #batfam x reader #bruce wayne #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #clark kent #j'onn j'onzz #aquaman #what the fuck is Arthur's last name #dinah lance #alfred pennyworth #barry allen #oliver queen #victor stone #diana prince #hal jordan

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flambeaufelid · 2 days ago

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This is a fantastic post. Especially that idea of it basically being about "pure escapism". Never really put that together myself before.

I think this is part of what was so great about the abridged series. The complete rejection of that premise.

SAO Abridged, for those who don't know, is often lauded as the greatest abridged series ever. Surpassing the OG show by miles, telling a legitimately better and more resonant story. But when asked how it does that exactly, most people just talk about how it cleans up a lot of plot holes, or is funny, or something like that.

These are good reasons to love it, but reading this analysis made me realize that it's also perhaps in part because it's an anti-escapist story.

In SAO Abridged, Kirito is a complete fucking jackass from the word go. He doesn't care about anything or anyone other than himself. And at first the show seems to present him as in the right- everyone else playing the game is basically braindead, he's BETTER than them, his numbers are higher than theirs.

But. That's not an escape.

Sure, he can tell these people that they're worthless. But it solves nothing. He still has to deal with them. He loads into the game, and the first thing he sees are ads. Sachi dies because she "lives out in the boonies", and has a bad internet connection, and lags out in the middle of a fight. The abridged series never, EVER, forgets the real world. Kayaba's motive in this version is simply that he was overworked, and went crazy.

And even though this version of Kirito also loves this game, he constantly runs up against it's edges- he learns to HATE the NPCs, he accidentally fucks up his taste buds eating max-level food, he kills someone in episode 4 because she makes fun of one of the few things the game didn't change: his voice.

In the finale of the abridged Aincrad arc, we see a version of Kirito who loves this game, yes, but also clearly wants to stop playing.

"It's true. This world means more to me than the real one ever did."

"But the longer we stay here, the greater the chance I'll lose the things I love about it most of all."

("HIS FRIENDS!!! HE'S TALKING ABOUT HIS FRIENDS!!!" Yells Klein, off to the side.)

(BTW I rewatched part of the canon episode for the first time in a decade to make sure Kirito didn't have an equivalent line there, and FUCK did I forget how BAD it is. But no, as far as I saw, he doesn't.)

Abridged Kirito wants out because he finally has found value in others. He's willing to sacrifice his escapist fantasy to save everyone, and get on with his own real life. I suppose you can say the same of canon Kirito, but... I just don't buy it as much, with him. I don't know why canon Kirito wants out, other than maybe reviving Yui. I think he really wanted to stay forever, deep down- whereas abridged Kirito slowly but surely outgrew this world.

Sword Art Online (anime)

Sword Art Online is a Frankenstein monster. Here is every episode of the first arc and how it was adapted:

Episode 1 is from the original web novel, published in 2002.

Episode 2 is from a more detailed rewrite of the story, Sword Art Online Progressive, published in 2012 (only a few months before the anime aired).

Episode 3 is from the second volume of the light novel, published in 2009.

Episode 4 is from a side story published shortly after the original web novel, in either 2002 or 2003.

Episodes 5 and 6 combine a side story published in 2007 and another side story from the eighth volume of the light novel, published in 2011.

Episode 7 is from a side story published shortly after the original web novel, likely in 2003.

Episodes 8, 9, and 10 are from the original web novel, published in 2002.

Episode 11 and 12 are from a side story published in 2003.

Episodes 13 and 14 are from the original web novel, published in 2002.

By stitching together stories written across an entire decade, often with wildly different purposes and goals, the anime is tonally erratic, with glaring plot and character inconsistencies. For example, Episode 3 is a tragic episode in which Kirito brings several low-level players to a high-level floor, leading to their deaths. Kirito is traumatized; he later explains that this incident is why he plays as a solo player, so nobody else will ever get hurt because of him. Episode 4, by contrast, is a lighthearted episode in which Kirito—having learned nothing, because this story was written six years before the previous one—brings a low-level player to a high-level floor as bait for dangerous player-killers. When the low-level player is comedically groped by a tentacle monster and cries out for Kirito to save her, Kirito only shrugs and says, "Come on, it's not that powerful." He's ultimately correct, and this time the player survives, but what happened to his trauma?

These inconsistencies, combined with Sword Art Online's massive popularity, made it the favorite target of the fledgling anime video essay community circa 2014 to 2017. Though it's possible to do a longform video poring over every single plot hole for almost anything, Sword Art Online made it easy; half of its "plot" was never intended to be arranged in this way, and even when there was intent, it was the intent of an amateur author writing their first-ever story. You couldn't generate a work more perfect for endless nitpicking and angry rants in a lab.

But if the show is blatantly incompetent, what made it so popular?

It's tempting to ascribe its popularity to "right place, right time." By 2012, the year Sword Art Online came out, the internet had changed the primary way people interacted socially. Rather than being bound by family, proximity, race, creed, religion, or so on, people grouped together by hobby. "Gamer" was now a community-binding identity, an attribute that distinguished a person and their niche online space from the othered outside. And the Gamers craved legitimacy. They craved the approval and recognition of mainstream culture. They craved representation, that feeling of seeing yourself reflected in the world around you.

The world refused them. The mood of the entrenched pop cultural elite was best encapsulated by Roger Ebert, famous film critic, who had been waging a years-long crusade against video games as an artistic medium. In 2005, in response to the live-action Doom movie, Ebert said, "Video games represent a loss of those precious hours we have available to make ourselves more cultured, civilized[,] and empathetic." He reiterated this claim in statements and essays in 2006 and 2010, and in March 2012, on the eve of Sword Art Online's airing, described Dark Souls—Dark Souls!—as a "soul-deadening experience." "Video games can never be art," he asserted plainly later that year.

In this milieu, it makes sense why Gamers glommed onto Sword Art Online. If nothing else, Sword Art Online takes video games seriously, more seriously than any non-video game media before it (asterisk; excepting .hack). This seriousness manifests in a consistent theme, a singular perpetually present thread that lingers even as plot, character, and tone skew wildly, stated by Kirito to Klein in Episode 1:

"This may be a virtual world, but I feel more alive here than I do in the real world."

This statement defines Asuna, who stops seeing her time trapped in the game as years stolen from her life, and instead learns to live each moment as if it were truly real. It defines Silica, mourning her dead Neopet and willing to risk her actual life to revive it. It defines Lisbeth, hurtling a million miles into the air but still for a moment enraptured by the beauty of a digital sun shining over a digital land. It defines Griselda, murdered by her husband Grimlock for motives he can only confusingly explain as related to how she "changed" in the game, how she became more confident, more self-realized, while he sank into despair (he was not a Gamer. He lacked the Gamer spirit). It defines Yui, the sentient NPC whom Kirito and Asuna adopt as part of a pantomimed marriage that the show's nauseatingly boring second arc is about protecting against an outside world that does not acknowledge it. And it defines Akihiko Kayaba, the game's creator, who when confronted at the end over why he trapped 10,000 people in this death game, can only say that he no longer remembers, before rhapsodizing about the "castle in the sky" he so achingly desired to bring to life. Unstated is that, to make it truly alive, he needed to make it—and the people inside it—capable of death. This logic is twisted, even more bizarre than Grimlock's murder confession, but neither the scene's wistfully poignant tone nor Kirito's responses reject it.

As the video essayists have done, it's pathetically easy to pick apart Kayaba's rationale. But to mire oneself in the story's logic is a mistake; Sword Art Online is not a story guided by logic. What matters is that Kayaba's illogical words are consistent with the ethos that underlies the narrative: The virtual world is as important as, or even more important than, the real world.

The anime's production values reflect this ethos, too. Sword Art Online looks strikingly cheap for its level of popularity. In almost every fight, still images with blur lines vibrate in tacky simulation of animation. There is no dynamism in the camerawork, and sword duels are often depicted in shot-reverse shot so only one participant is on screen at a time. Nobody interacts with their environment; every battle occurs on a flat, empty plane. Some of the monsters are CGI and look awful. The character designs are bland and generic. Even the music, by the otherwise-excellent Yuki Kajiura, sounds like phoned-in B-sides from her work on Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011) and its sequel film, Rebellion (2013).

But what the show does expend effort on is its backgrounds, which are both visually inventive—floating islands, towering columns that hold up the sky—and depicted with glimmering post-processing effects to bathe them in sunsets, sunrises, rainbows, and starry nights. First and foremost, Sword Art Online sells its virtual world to the viewer, makes them believe in that world the way the characters in the story do.

And in having that world sold to them, in expressing its legitimacy and the legitimacy of those (hero or villain) who believe in it, the Gamers had their rallying cry, the work of media that finally said: You are seen.

But was it really Gamers that Sword Art Online saw?

While Sword Art Online is invested in selling its virtual world, it is not invested in selling its virtual game. The in-universe Sword Art Online is primarily defined by its lack of gameplay mechanics, rather than those it actually has. In Episode 1, Klein explains that the game lacks a magic system, which he describes as a "bold choice." In Episode 2, members of the raid party state that the game also lacks a job or class system. There is no long-ranged weaponry; everyone uses melee weapons, usually swords. The only strategy during raids is human wave tactics, where armies of players charge in and attack at once. The only cooperative maneuver is "Switch," a mechanic that is never explicitly explained but seems to involve a player who has already charged in backing off so another player can charge in their place.

Compared to even basic single-player RPGs, these mechanics are primitive; for an MMORPG, they're antediluvian. The point isn't whether a game with these mechanics would be fun or not (in many ways, it's similar to Dark Souls, where the basic core gameplay of dodge-and-hit is rendered meaningful by the consequences for failure), but rather that the game's mechanics have little importance within the story.

They're so unimportant that it's never explained why Kirito is so good at the game, what he's doing differently from everyone else. He's not even a grinder. He spends most of the first half of the story slumming on floors far beneath his level. It's no-nonsense Asuna who grinds hard, who tries to exploit the game mechanics, like when she proposes using NPCs to lure a boss. The plan makes logical sense, but logic is absent from Sword Art Online's ethos; Kirito rejects it, not on the grounds it wouldn't work, but because the NPCs would be killed. He prioritizes respecting the game world, while Asuna—at least initially—prioritizes respecting the game mechanics. Kirito's philosophy is ultimately proven right when he and Asuna adopt an NPC daughter who turns out to be sentient.

Meanwhile, Kirito's most impressive feat involves him ignoring the game's rules entirely. The one mechanic described in detail is that if you die in the game, you die in real life; when Kirito dies, though, he wills himself back alive to defeat the final boss.

The game, the experience of gaming, being a Gamer—none of these are part of the underlying ethos that guides the narrative decisions of Sword Art Online. Kirito didn't tell Klein, "I feel more alive playing this game." He said, "I feel more alive in this virtual world." Asuna didn't find happiness by exploiting the game, but by learning to live in it as though it were her real life. Kayaba didn't design Sword Art Online because he loves games, but because he wanted to make his world real.

This isn't a story about Gamers. It's a story about a virtual world. It's a story about the internet. It's a story about online community.

In his introduction to Speaker for the Dead (1986), Orson Scott Card describes the heroes of most science fiction novels as "perpetual adolescents": "He belongs to no community; he is wandering from place to place, doing good (as he sees it), but then moving on. This is the life of the adolescent, full of passion, intensity, magic, and infinite possibility; but lacking responsibility, rarely expecting to have to stay and bear the consequences of error […] Who but the adolescent is free to have the adventures that most of us are looking for when we turn to storytellers to satisfy our hunger? And yet to me, at least, the most important stories are the ones that teach us how to be civilized: the stories about children and adults, about responsibility and dependency."

Card, of course, wrote Gamer fiction long before anyone craved it. Ender's Game (1985) is obsessed with the mechanical minutiae of its titular game in a way Sword Art Online is not; its protagonist is successful in the mold of Asuna, able to understand and exploit game mechanics better than anyone else. But in this quote, Card describes Kirito perfectly. Kirito is, of course, an actual adolescent, emphasized by his character design and Columbine trench coat ("Don't show up to the GameStop tomorrow," you can almost hear him say), but his character is also adolescent in terms of Card's model. He spends the first half of the story as a solo player, wandering from floor to floor, doing good (usually), moving on. He lacks—or rather, avoids—responsibility. While Asuna is second-in-command of a top guild organizing high-level raids, Kirito is off on his own reviving some girl's Neopet.

When viewed from this perspective, Sword Art Online actually does have a coherent and comprehensible character arc for its otherwise inconsistent protagonist. Kirito develops as a result of his relationship with Asuna, finding through his marriage to her the responsibility that he previously forsook. When Kirito's error causes Sachi to die in Episode 3, he moves on, immediately abandons even his own trauma by Episode 4; Sachi is never mentioned again. (Of course not, since her story was one of the last ones written.) He feels no lasting responsibility for his actions. But later, Kirito realizes he could not brush off the trauma if the same thing happened to Asuna. It is through his responsibility to her that he joins the final raid and thus bears, shoulder to shoulder with everyone else, the cooperative responsibility of the entire virtual community of Sword Art Online. He has become an adult, with wife and child. He has become "more cultured, civilized[,] and empathetic," as Ebert would put it.

(And isn't that what Ebert is really saying, when he criticizes video games? That they are adolescent, childish, playthings?)

Through Kirito's character arc, and its underlying ethos about virtual worlds, Sword Art Online depicts online community via the language of marriage and responsibility that is traditionally ascribed to real-life community. This too resonated with its audience. After all, it wasn't just Gamers who craved recognition. Teenagers in 2012 had lived their entire conscious life in a world defined by the internet, and yet the "real world" considered online relationships and communities to be a joke. Sword Art Online, rather than legitimizing Gamers, legitimizes the virtual world, the internet.

But does it really even do that?

Immediately, Sword Art Online rejects the notion of online identity. Kayaba's first move upon trapping everyone inside the game is to force them all to look like their real-world selves. As per Sword Art Online's anti-logic ethos, he does not explain why he does this. Shortly afterward, Kirito looks at his real-world finger, which received a paper cut before he entered the game; he imagines it bleeding profusely, before saying, "It's not a game. It's real." By enforcing real-world identity within the game world, Kayaba possibly intends players to see the world as more real too, the way Kirito does. This fits the monomaniacal focus of Kayaba, and Sword Art Online as a story, on the importance of virtual space over any other aspect of virtual experience, and it's not surprising that Kirito tacitly agrees with Kayaba's decision when he and Klein tell each other they look better as their real selves than as their avatars. But it also alienates Sword Art Online from its connection to the reality of the internet, where personal identity is far more fluid.

Furthermore, despite his character arc, Kirito ultimately stands apart from his online community. At the end of the story, everyone lies on the ground paralyzed as he alone is given the privilege to duel the final boss, one-on-one. At this climactic moment, Kirito returns to being a solo player, while every other member of the community lacks agency, including Asuna. Especially Asuna. Shortly before the final battle, Asuna claims she'll commit suicide if Kirito dies, which is already an unhealthily adolescent view of marriage (as seen in Romeo & Juliet). Then, before the duel, when Asuna is paralyzed, Kirito demands that Kayaba "fix it so Asuna can't kill herself." Not only has Kayaba, the villain, stolen Asuna's agency over her own body, but now her husband is requesting he steal even more of it.

This, too, is part of Sword Art Online's ethos. Though the game has 10,000 people, nobody except Kirito actually matters. He is a "Solo Player" in the sense of Solo Leveling, the most popular airing anime, which has a mistranslated title; it should be "Only I Level Up." The implication of the real title is clear: Only the protagonist has agency. Kirito is the same. Only he plays the game, in any meaningful sense. The game—reality—bends to him; none of its rules, even death, constrain him.

It is total self-centeredness, a complete rejection of the responsibility to society that Card describes. This ethos pervades the show. Kirito is never wrong, even when he obviously is, like when he rejects Asuna's proposal to use NPCs as bait. The entire reason he realizes Heathcliff is Kayaba is because, during an earlier duel, Heathcliff beat him; Kirito (correctly) posits that someone who beat him must have been cheating. Everyone who likes Kirito is good, everyone who dislikes him is evil; Kuradeel, who chafes with Kirito initially over bureaucratic guild regulations, eventually unmasks himself as a sadistic serial killer. Every girl is in love with him, a harem rendered vestigial because Kirito is married to Asuna and expresses zero interest in Silica or Lisbeth or his sister or the second season's Carne Asada; but it's not about whether Kirito wants a harem, it's about the prestige of his ability to command one.

This is where the true face of Sword Art Online shows itself, what truly made it so popular, and where the core of its long-lasting influence remains.

Only the virtual world matters. Not the game, not the online community, not online identity. Only a different world, one that isn't the real world. And in this world, only Kirito matters. Sure, he'll fight to protect other people. Exactly like he'll fight to protect NPCs. In this world, real people are worth the same as NPCs, compared to Kirito. His wife is a real person; his daughter is not. But really, both his marriage and his child are a form of playacting, pretending at adulthood. When convenient, they are disregarded and trampled upon. Asuna spends the next two arcs of Sword Art Online sidelined—even viciously sexually assaulted—so Kirito can hang out with girls he doesn't even like, just because they're shiny and new; Yui is almost completely forgotten after the second arc, like a discarded toy.

This is an ethos of pure, distilled escapism. It is an escape from the real world to a false one, where every conceivable selfish fantasy is rendered real, where every desire can be granted and then disposed of when no longer wanted. It is an ethos without responsibility, without consequence.

And without shame. Sword Art Online is remarkably devoid of self-consciousness. It treats as real its virtual world, but doesn't feel the need to justify that world with logic. It doesn't feel the need to justify anything with logic; what it says is so, self-evidently.

In my Kill la Kill essay, I mentioned Sword Art Online's vast influence, and someone wrote (and sadly deleted) a well-reasoned response that explained how the aesthetics and tropes of modern isekai are much more heavily influenced by Japanese webfic that predate Sword Art Online, like GATE or Overlord or Re:Zero. That's true; I'd add that modern Gamer fiction, which is often obsessively concerned with the rules and statistics underlying game logic, is also not very similar to Sword Art Online on a superficial level. But Sword Art Online's ethos transcends genre. It can be found in isekai, Gamer lit, or even genres popular long before Sword Art Online, like battle shounen. Sword Art Online created the web fiction to light novel to anime pipeline, and in doing so popularized amateur literature and its decidedly adolescent mentality of shameless and solipsistic self-indulgence. "Only I Play the Game."

#sword art online #sao #anime #sao abridged #sword art online abridged

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