bruceewayne

[stupidnaturals]

.

[abbyromanoff]

TARGET 1

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2581

WARNINGS: bottom!Nat, kinda dark reader, Mommy (R), smut obvi, mentions of face riding, hand jobs, breeding, little!Nat, praise, pet names, Nat is referred to as “bear” a lot, small angst, wrote this in abt an hour so it’s not that great :/, think that’s all tho :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Screams echoed through the dark alley, and Nat cursed herself for not thinking to cover the victim’s mouth. Someone could hear, and with the news of the recent killings spreading, she didn’t want to risk finally being caught.

The blood oozed out of the man’s wound, and Nat smiled as she grabbed her camera. She examined her surroundings, making sure nobody was nearby before she took multiple photos, placing them in her pocket after making sure they were perfect for you. She sent a text your way, updating you on her completion before removing the mask and cloak, placing them in her bag while she placed a single headphone in, making sure she looked like a normal citizen and not a killer who just took away the life of an innocent man. You told her to be safe on her voyage home and received a quick photo of her grinning with a thumbs up, giving you all the closure you needed as you set up the bath. You ensured the water was hot so it would cool to an even temperature by the time she was home. You placed her favorite toys in the pile of bubbles and ventured into the kitchen, waiting for the oven to set off and to hear the twisting of keys to your shared apartment.

“Mommy? I’m home!” You heard a giggly Nat alert you, causing you to peek your head out of the room. She smiled when she saw you and tried rushing forward, only to be stopped by your voice.

“Ah, ah, what’s the rule with shoes in the house?” She looked down, noticing a small trail of blood she left on the floor. She rushed an apology and placed them on the rack next to the coat hanger, continuing her way to you and throwing her arms around you in a hurry.

“Mm, I missed you, bear.” You placed your hands on both of her cheeks, squishing the plush skin before leaving a quick peck on her lips. Her dimples shined under her large blush and you chuckled, placing one last kiss on her forehead before grabbing her plate of food.

“I know you must be so hungry after all your hard work today, I thought you deserved a little treat.”

“Breakfast for dinner? Oh, thank you, Mommy!” You knew it was her favorite, and while it was a bit of a hassle, you’d rather spend half an hour cleaning if you got to see her smile so large. She poured the maple syrup over her waffle before grabbing the whipped cream, only to be stopped by a hand.

“I think it’s best if Mommy does that for you, we don’t want you dirtying up your shirt, now do we?” You also knew she loved to go over the top with sweetness, whipped cream being one of those. While she deserved a lovely treat, it was best if she didn’t plow down piles of food and complain later on about stomach pain.

“Would you like me to cut your waffle for you, love?” She grappled onto your arm, resting her head on the soft skin as she watched your every move.

“Yes, please.” Her mouth felt empty, usually, she had her pacifier to soothe her in times of calmness like this. So, she took to biting her lip instead, a habit you’ve been trying to have her let go of.

“There you go. Why don’t you eat up and you can tell me all about your little adventure tonight, okay?” She nodded, instantly taking her fork and picking the piece she saw first. You sighed with contentment before taking the seat across from her, occasionally feeling her foot slap against your leg as she swung them happily.

“I even got a bunch of pictures for you!” She concluded her rant, reaching into her pocket where the Polaroids were stored.

“No talking with your mouth full, bear,” You reminded her, making her stop as she swallowed the nourishment before continuing. She placed each of them on the table, taking a sip of her apple juice before explaining each one.

“And guess what? I stabbed him, like, a billion times! I forgot to cover his mouth on accident, so I made sure to leave before anyone heard him or saw me.” You nodded along with her statements, standing alongside her as the two of you cleaned each dish.

“Now, baby, you need to make sure you’re being careful, I don’t want you to get caught.”

“I know, Mommy, I promise I’m usually really careful, but I got a little excited this time.” The man wasn’t a terrible person, but in her mind he was. He was your boss and had been setting unrealistic expectations for all of his workers, including you. This meant longer hours and more stress, which also meant less time that Nat got to spend with you. You tried making it up to her, and she didn’t blame you, but she knew this was the best gift she could offer you. After all, you do so much for her, you deserved a thank you.

“That’s alright, we’re just going to need to wait a little bit longer until we find someone, this time.”

The two of you quickly finished the load of dishes, thankful that there wasn’t a lot. You led her to the bathroom, helping rid her of her clothing before she settled in the bathtub. She played with the toys, allowing her giggles to be presented instead of shying away. She was never appreciated in the ways you showed her, so being able to remove that ounce of fear she held felt undeniably relieving.

“Mommy, can I ask you something?” She asked in a low voice, clinging onto the towel you wrapped around her. You furrowed your brows but gave her permission, your worry only growing as her gaze faltered to the floor.

“Do you really think I’m good at this type of stuff?” She had been trained her entire life to kill, it was all she ever knew. She was of the highest rankings at such a young age, but the constant competition and downgrading she received failed to fill her confidence. All she ever wanted was to be good enough, and now that goal was even more important with you by her side.

“Oh, honey, of course, you are! I’m always so proud of you and your work, nothing will ever change that.” She sat on the edge of the bed, the cracked window causing goosebumps to erupt on her naked skin. You took the signal to shut it before returning, kneeling before her as you patched up a small cut on her knee. She eyed the Frozen bandaid with a smile, running her fingertip over the area before returning her gaze to you.

“But you don’t seem as excited about it as before, am I doing something wrong?” Her lips formed into a pout that she tried to hide, only to be exposed as you brought her face to meet yours.

“No, that’s not it at all. I’m so sorry, bear, I’ve been so stressed over work, and with the holidays coming up, I guess I’ve been neglecting you as a result. I’m so sorry, it was never my intent to hurt you.” She relished in the fact that the truth was now out and she could be at ease, but she felt saddened at your reaction. She didn’t want to hurt you, but now you were the one with a heavy heart.

“No, it’s okay! I- I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing something wrong, I’m not mad at you.” You rubbed her sides gently, taking the seat next to her as you wrapped your arm around her small frame. She rested her head on your shoulder out of instinct.

“You did so well tonight, I think I’m going to hang those photos up on the fridge so I’ll always be reminded of how talented you are.” Her legs rested on top of yours as she kissed your cheek in appreciation. You chuckled, doing the same to her while your hand rested on her thigh. You inched further, watching her shuffle impossibly closer to you as a result.

“You know what I think? I think that my girl deserves a little reward for just how well she did.” Your thumb made contact with her tip, the action bringing a shiver throughout Nat’s body. She grinned through a bitten lip, her cheeks turning a shade of red as you removed the skin from her teeth.

“You need to stop that, baby, you know I don’t like it.” She rushed a quick apology before a small gasp left her. She removed the towel from her lower half, only to see your hand now wrapped around her length, stroking a continued motion slowly.

“M- Mommy, that feels really nice.” You hummed, your eyes falling to the area of attention. You removed your hand, causing a whine of disapproval from your girlfriend. You shushed her, guiding her to lay on her back as she spotted her stuffed animal. It was a plush dinosaur that you got her years ago, she still cherished it. You pressed a kiss to her forehead before doing the same to the soft creature in her arms.

“Close your eyes, I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” She questioned when you stood in front of the door. You turned to look at her as you removed your shirt, exposing the black bra to her eyesight. They widened, her cock hardening even further before you closed the door behind you. She tried to follow your orders of sitting tight and closing her eyes, but the anticipation was so high. She wanted to know what you were doing, she wanted to feel your touch again. Her palm lowered down her body without realization, and she couldn’t hold back the whimper as she brushed over her balls. They were so sensitive, but you always said that was your favorite part about them.

“Natty, baby? Are your eyes closed?” She retracted her hand instantly, hoping you wouldn’t get a glance at her antics. You were never one for letting her touch herself, she suspected that wasn’t going to change tonight.

“Yup!” She heard the door squeak and had to fight the urge to look, but she remained how you wanted her, and she knew that pleased you when she heard small cooing.

“Aren’t you just the cutest little girl ever? Mommy is so, so lucky to have you, bear.” You ran your cool hands against her nipples, resulting in the buds hardening. She stifled a moan as you went lower, your fingers tracing over the same area she had just teased. She hoped you couldn’t tell, she never knew how but you seemed to know everything, especially when it came to her.

“I could just…eat you up!” Your hand enclosed around her cock, creating the same movements as you started earlier. She was grateful to have the return of your touch, but it wasn’t quite enough. Her hips thrusted with every stroke, her desperation being made clear to anyone who could see her.

“Oh, did you need something?” She whimpered when you came to a halt, your thumb collecting the pre cum from her drooling tip. You rubbed it over her bottom lip, letting her get a taste of the sweet nectar you grew addicted to.

“You, I…I want you.”

“But you have me, don’t you?” Your condescending tone brought her to quiver in excitement and fear.

“I need to be in you, Mommy…please?” You crooned, hovering over her length and letting the head tease your folds. You moaned, rubbing your clit in small circles. You continued until she couldn’t bear it anymore and finally let yourself soak in the pleasure, and allowing her to feel your warm walls clenching around her.

“Fuck, my little girl is so big, can barely even fit.” You groaned, interlacing your fingertips with hers. She seemed content with the praise and let her hips follow your movements, hoping she was doing it correctly in order to make you feel good, but that was quickly proven by your high-pitched moans.

“Right- right there- ah! Don’t stop, baby, don’t you dare fucking stop!” You leaned your face down, admiring the fact that she continued to comply to your request even in a state of such arousal.

“You can open your eyes now, bear.” She fluttered them open, blinking twice as she came to register the sight in front of her. The mask covered your face, the black paint looking into her eyes and she suddenly felt like someone else. She was no longer the killer, she was the victim.

“You like the mask? Yeah? Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” Your pants caused your chest to heave, your breasts bouncing in her face as a result. She removed a hand from yours, using her digits to caress the soft peaks before wrapping her lips around one, then switching to the other. The coil in her stomach tightened with each clench and each thrust, her eyes squeezing shut as she forced herself to slow down.

“Don’t hold back, bear, I want to feel your cum so deep inside of me.” She looked at you one more time for permission, using your short nod as approval to let go. Her teeth bit down gently as a result, causing you to hiss as she hurried to explain herself. You cut her off before she could speak, and she found herself unable to do so as she painted your walls white. You let her ride out her high, finding yourself unable to care for the orgasm you threatened yourself into having. It was cut short, and Nat wasn’t going to allow that.

“Mommy-”

“Shh, shh, don’t worry about me, just fill Mommy’s pussy.” Your tight hole greedily accepted her, and your womb greedily accepted her seed. You felt so full, but you were nowhere near done.

“You see this?” You pointed the knife in front of her, she gulped in fear before it led into hunger. You led the weapon to your chest as you leaned back, drawing it from the bottom of the mask to your lower waist. You grasped her palm, placing the knife in her hand as you allowed her to sit up. When doing so, her cock maneuvered inside of you, bringing a shudder of pleasure from both of you.

“I want you to mark me, baby. I want every single fucking soul to know exactly who’s Mommy I am.” She smiled, letting the object slowly and barely seep into you, it was just enough to leave a mark but nowhere near as bad to injure you greatly.

“And I want you to tell me while you write just how much of a good girl you are, and just how much Mommy loves their little bear.” You pet her head, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as she continued. You felt your hips threatening to repeat from earlier but held off until she finished.

“There, all done.” ‘Owner of Natty Bear’ was sloppily written on your skin, the blood dripping down your side as you praised the younger female.

“Mm, you did so good, Princess. Now, I think Mommy deserves a little treat, as well, yeah?” She nodded happily. “Alright, lay down, Mommy’s going to ride that cute face.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

She Stays (Part 3)

Summary: Could you please write one where student!reader appears in Supernatural universe taken from normal life and becomes an angel? Pairing Sam/reader?

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Sam x student!/angel!reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: Wow this is only how many years late? I know it’s been asked for many times for more of She Stays and here it is! Please enjoy this final part!

________

“Ow,” you heard Dean shout from the kitchen. When you came in he was sucking on his finger. “Cut it,” he mumbled, moving to the sink to run it under some water. He hissed as the cold hurt and you yanked his hand away.

“That needs stitches,” you said, Dean letting you twist his hand around. He smiled as he nodded approvingly.

“Yes it does,” he said, your hand reaching out and pulling a fresh towel to wrap it in. “You’re coming up to speed on the medical side of things,” he said. “Sammy’s been a good teacher.”

“I like when Sam teaches me,” you said, pulling him along to grab a first aid kit. “You on the other hand...”

“I’m an asshole who doesn’t give you an inch of slack, right?” asked Dean, putting on his mentor face. “Sam would go too easy on you in fights and target practice. You know it too.”

“I know, Dean,” you said, fiddling through the bag to find a needle and thread. “I don’t feel like I make any progress with you though. Sam tells me I’m doing a good job at least.”

“Kid,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist before you grabbed the supplies you needed. “You’ve come a long way in two months. I might even let you go on a salt and burn by yourself.”

“Really?” you said, eyes lighting up. 

“No, but only because Sam would kill me,” said Dean, chuckling as he moved your hand to the towel. “I know you can stitch and blood doesn’t bother you. Go ahead and try.”

“No, Dean,” you said, jerking your hand back. He frowned and feigned sorrow.

“Guess I’ll just bleed out since, Fledgy wouldn’t help me,” said Dean, holding up his finger.

“I need Cas,” you said, Dean scowling hard as he hoped onto the counter. The hunting stuff, that wasn’t so bad compared to knowing you had these abilities. You were still too scared to use them without Cas close by, afraid of hurting someone. 

“I trust you,” said Dean, holding out his hand. “I’m in worlds of pain here, Kid. Help a guy out.”

“Dean, I don’t want to,” you said, reaching for the medical bag again. “Angel stuff is not your area, remember, it’s Cas’.”

“I’m also bad cop,” said Dean. “Now try or I’ll work you so hard today so you’ll be too tired to go on your first date with Sammy.”

“Thank dad you’re not my soulmate,” you said, Dean chuckling as you grabbed his wrist. “Just don’t move or anything.” Dean stopped playing as he moved the towel back and you saw it still gushing blood. You thought of how big a cut it was, how it was deep and throbbing. You pictured it in your mind and then how it was supposed to be. 

Dean shut his eyes as you let warmth trickle from your fingers and told your grace to heal him. Dean jerked a little but when you pulled back he was good as new.

“I didn’t tell you about the bruise on my knee,” said Dean, shoving his pants up and seeing the black and blue mark missing.

“I wanted it to heal whatever was wrong with you,” you said a little timid. It felt intimate to heal someone, like you were touching their pain for the briefest of moments.

“I won’t tell Cas if you won’t,” said Dean, hopping off the counter. “Now it’s time for your surprise.”

“Please no more push ups today,” you said, Dean chuckling as he pushed on your shoulders.

“You’re going on your first date with your soulmate tonight, kid,” said Dean. “I’m taking you to the mall to go pick out whatever you want to wear. Then I’ll tell you a bunch of horribly embarrassing stuff about Sam you can bring up at dinner if you feel so inclined.”

“You’re such a good big brother,” you said, Dean already moving the two of you towards the garage.

Dean had surprisingly been a good shopping buddy. You picked out a few simple black dresses but Dean had found one with an open back that you fell in love with. You weren’t sure at first how it would look on you but once you were in a pair of heels even you couldn’t help but think you looked hot.

Leaving your room wearing it that night, knowing it was just you and Sam in the bunker, you felt a little silly. You weren’t going out or anything, it was dinner at home. But Sam had asked if you could wear a dress so your first date wasn’t in flannels and ripped jeans and you wouldn’t deny him that request.

“Hi, Y/N,” said Sam, working over the stove. “Could you grab...” he trailed off when he spun around and saw you. You could feel him light up as he lost the ability to speak.

“Plates?” you asked, Sam nodding, his eyes glued to every part of you. “Sam, I’m not that pretty.”

“You’re gorgeous,” said Sam, a little breathy. “You’re always beautiful but...I’ve never seen you dressed up before.”

“Slight improvement over you sweats and tee from that first day,” you said, stepping beside him to reach plates from the cupboard.

“You’re comparing apples and oranges babe,” said Sam, reaching up and grabbing the too high plates for you, an excuse to get you close dawning on you. “I love both those outfits. Anything really. I can almost see your wings in your back like that.”

“Sam,” you said, looking down shyly. “I don’t have my wings yet.”

“Yes you do,” he said, ignoring the cooking and running a hand up to the back of your neck. “They’re just very small right now,” said Sam, his hand moving lower and lower until his long fingers scrapped over the ridge of your shoulder blade.

You giggled as it tickled, the motion pulling something from you that you hadn’t quite felt before. 

“Beautiful snow white,” said Sam. “They’re right there, just under the skin. I can’t wait to see them when you’re full grown.”

“How do you know what they look like if you can’t see them?” you asked, resting your head on Sam’s shoulder. You would stay like this forever, him touching this vulnerable spot you didn’t know you had, making you tingle and smile all over.

“I just know,” said Sam, tilting your head back so he could cup your cheek. “I’m glad we took it slow. Got to be best friends first before trying this.”

“There’s no trying, this is...” you said, letting your angel side take over for a minute. “Cas told me something, about fledglings.”

“You’re very pure creatures,” said Sam. “It’s okay, Y/N. He told me too.”

“Then you know we can’t get frisky or anything like that at all,” you said, backing away from him, seeing the hurt on his face. “Where I came from, it didn’t matter but here...you’ll be stuck with me forever.”

“Spending forever with my soulmate? Yes that does sound awful,” said Sam, taking a step closer wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’m not scared, Fledgy. I will never pressure you one way or the other. It doesn’t mean I don’t have a preference for how things will turn out between us.”

“I’m not too young?” you asked, Sam unable to fight back a laugh.

“That’s...that’s what you’ve been worried about?” asked Sam with a smile. “I’m barely older. Fledgy, I love you. Nothing, absolutely nothing will ever stop that. Before you ask, I love you for you, not because of this soulmate thing. I’ve felt that perfect at home feeling with you every second I’m with you since the start, before we touched.”

“Can we eat dinner later?” you asked, the burnt smell of chicken filling your nose. “I’d like to do something with you first.”

“Make me yours, Y/N.”

Dean got home after midnight, only slightly buzzed as he found you and Sam eating pizza on the counter in pajamas.

“How’d the date go you two?” asked Dean, stealing a piece of your leftovers. “Going to be a second one?”

“Yup,” you said, Sam eyeing you up and down.

“Yup,” said Sam, a smirk on his face.

“Is this some couple thing or some angel thing?” asked Dean, watching the both of you. “Or did you two do it finally?”

“All of the above,” you said, Sam smacking your arm playfully. “Hey, someday I’m going to be stronger than you ya know.”

“That’ll be fun in bed,” said Sam, winking as Dean looked ready to gag. “Fledgy’s growing up,” said Sam, holding up a single perfect snow white feather. Just like he’d said it be.

“Angel’s getting her wings, huh? All you two had to do was go at it?” asked Dean, genuinely curious about the fledgling rules as they seemed to differ than a normal angel.

“Actually, it kind of...made me more human in certain areas,” you said, wondering if Dean would be angry. “Mating as a fledgling, with a human, it turns off that angel bit that let’s me...live forever. Normal life expectancy for me now.”

“Makes sense,” said Dean, both you and Sam raising an eyebrow. “Why would Chuck make soulmates that don’t get to be together when it’s all said and done? You two must really like each other to do that.”

“He’s okay,” you said, bumping into Sam’s ribs with a smile.

“It’s not so bad having an angel looking out for me,” said Sam, holding onto your feather like it was precious. 

“So you get anything else new while I was out beside some feathers?” Dean asked, silently reaching out to Sam asking to look at the one in his hand. Sam handed it over carefully as Dean inspected it. “Okay, I’ll admit that’s kind of cool.”

“Too bad you can’t see them like Sam,” you said, moving your left wing to tickle his arm, still so small it didn’t jut out past your back, Sam smirking and Dean looking on confused.

“Don’t stay up too late having angel sex, we’re going to work on werewolves tomorrow,” said Dean. “Night Sammy. Fledgy.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a full day a head of you,” said Sam. “Make sure to carve in some time for your boyfriend if you can.”

“I can always make time for him,” you said, brushing your wing up against his arm again, making Sam laugh. 

“Let’s go to bed,” said Sam, hopping off the counter and picking you up.

“I’m not tired though,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I said go to bed, not sleep, Fledgy,” said Sam with a wink. “I got too much energy I need to burn off before I even think about curling up with you all night long.”

__________

[colour-me-katie]

The Umbrella Academy ideas that are stuck in my head (part 2): Training

A fanfic idea where Klaus was involved in his siblings trainings cause Reginald saw he wasn't making enough progress in is own and "You must contribute somehow Number Four". But no one knew what each others individual training involved cause they hated taking about it. But one day after the not-apocalypse or whatever the conversation gets brought up and one of them mentions that Klaus was involved in the their trainings and they all are like....wait he was in mine too. And Klaus is like "yeah, I always preferred your trainings over mine" Then they ask Klaus what his training was and if anyone else was involved but he doesn't want to tell them about the mausoleum or how he later found out that Reginald used to kill him/let him die and time how long it took him to come back.

Luther (I'm not really sure how to include Klaus in training for him yet)

Diego's training included having him throw knives and things at various targets until his hands ached. Then Reginald wanting him to practice curving the projectiles so he made Klaus stand in front of a target (cause he knew Diego had a "weakness" for Klaus and also that Klaus couldn't die, not that he told anyone that) and made Diego throw knives at him. Later upgraded to Reginald throwing the knives and making Diego try to stop or repeal them. And he messed up sometimes and got so upset at hurting Klaus but Klaus is just like "Don't worry Di I trust you not to hurt me on purpose" and "It's okay Di, it's just a scratch". And Klaus just got used to the pain and build up a high pain tolerance.

Allison's training included rumoring over and over until her throat hurt. But she needed to rumor someone for Reginald to see the effects and how different wording and even languages changed the results. So Klaus got picked cause he was the best at/knew the most languages so he could understand (maybe because of the ghosts). And Allison kinda hated doing it to him but was afraid of Reginald and wanted to prove herself so she just made Klaus do a bunch of things. And Klaus got used to the idea and feeling of his body and mind not really being his own and kinda just dissociated after a while.

Five's training included practicing jumping until he felt like passing out. Then one day Reginald wanted him to practice with another person and chose Klaus. And Klaus got so dizzy and sick the first time he threw up so Reginald forbade him from eating on Five's training days cause "I will not stand you making a mess Number Four". Klaus didn't tell anyone and when asked why he doesn't eat sometimes he just said he wasn't hungry. Later Klaus thinks back on this when he is living on the streets and is already familiar with the feeling of hunger.

Ben's training didn't involve Klaus because it was too dangerous even for Reginald. But Klaus was always there when Ben was finished. And he would drag him to the bathroom and clean him up and then they would cuddle under blankets together in Ben's bed and Klaus would talk about anything and everything just to distract Ben from thinking too much about the Horror. And sometimes Ben hated when his stomach was touched cause it hurt or he was afraid that the Horror would just react without his control but other times when they would cuddle, Klaus would lay his hand or even his head again Ben's stomach and for a moment Ben knew how much Klaus trusted him and how much faith he had in him and in that moment it made Ben feel safe and in control.

Viktor obviously didn't have training like the others but he remembers when he would learn a new song and finally be able to play it through without messing up and wanting to show Reginald or his siblings but was afraid they wouldn't care. But Klaus would come into his room sometimes and listen to him play and he would sit on his bed and fall asleep. Viktor admits that at the time he thought Klaus was just bored and it hurt that he never listened to the whole song. But present Klaus says that he wasn't bored but that Viktor's room never had any ghost (unlike his other siblings who became murderers/haunted way to young) and his music was so beautiful and peaceful. That Viktor's room was safe, that Viktor was safe. And feeling safe was something Klaus rarely felt as a kid but in those moments with Viktor he was able to relax and actually sleep.

Anyway I just want a hurt/comfort fic with Klaus and his siblings.

[pastafossa]

TW for those with religious trauma. A little long and just about something personal so putting it behind the cut, but basically:

I got to set a boundary and say No today, and that's huge.

I'm still mildly on FB to keep up with older friends and fam and events, and a few groups where I learn things generally from older folks (trust me, the old woodcarving guys aren't usually on tiktok). And let's just say I'm... very obviously not a Christian over there - not rude, not attacking, just happily on my own path. And there was this lady, who apparently had known me when I was 5 or so and had somehow stuck around. She had recently taken it upon herself to evangelize and 'bring me back' by repeatedly bringing up me loving Jesus at 5, and talking about God at me, and I am loved by him and etc etc don't you still talk to him, Pasta? Maybe that's why I remember you talking to him when you were little, so he can reach you through me, aren't you afraid Pasta that he's reaching for you and you'll miss it, etc etc.

Now I was raised strongly christian. The whole shebang. Christian elementary school, church every Sunday, youth groups on Wednesday, radio set to a christian station, etc. I'd heard these lines, believed those lines, said those lines for a long time. And even though my family was chill (one reason I wound up feeling supported enough to leave the church as an adult), I'm still unpacking a lot of that trauma. And one bit is my inability to set boundaries. Girls and women must always be polite, kind, and nice no matter what. Respect your elders when they speak. You are to be the sacred little vessel of the light and always be ready and willing to explain and advocate your beliefs even if someone's being mean, don't walk away. If someone asks you to help with something you don't want to do, you do it anyway, because your happiness and comfort doesn't matter, you are meant to serve.

I mentioned this while chatting with a group of friends the other night - I told them about this woman who'd been targeting me, and the bad memories it brought up and the ensuing anxiety attack when a bunch of things stacked a few weeks ago. And one of my friends turned and looked at me and gently said, 'why haven't you unfriended her?'

And I... paused at that. Why? Why hadn't I? Because this woman didn't 'intend' to be mean? Because I wanted to try to 'represent' something? Because I used to know her? Because I was afraid to be judged as rude? Because... my comfort and happiness didn't matter? Why on earth hadn't I?

Because... my comfort and happiness does matter. And I was being disrespected. It doesn't matter if I'm seen as rude. I'm allowed to say, 'no, you don't get to treat me like that.'

I... am allowed to cut someone off, even if they find that mean.

Even if they knew me when I was little.

Even if they have positive intent.

I don't have to give those people access to me if they're hurting me and trying to scare me.

And so I got home, and I rolled through that old list, and I culled it. Out went the people who I got a sick feeling thinking about. Out went the people who'd never really respected me. Out went the people who saw me as a trophy they could win by 'bringing me back'.

I said no to all of that.

I can say no.

And I know that seems small. But it feels like a giant leap for me.

[harlowsbby]

Traditions With U

“What’s the budget?” You asked Jack as the two of you arrived to Target.

“Hmm I’d say under $100 and we’ll meet back here in about twenty minutes?” He said and you nodded. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes, make sure you get me something good!” You told him.

“You know I will babe, come on Phoenix.” Jack and Phoenix headed in their own direction while You and Venus headed into the opposite direction.

You saw online that a few couples were making one another thankful baskets for Thanksgiving, a thankful basket is a basket filled with lots of things that remind you of your partner.

Phoenix and Venus decided to tag along with Jack and You to try and help the two of you as much as they can.

“How about this Phoenix? Do you think she’ll like this?” Jack asked Phoenix as he held up a stuffed animal that was a turkey. “No Uncle Jack that’s very ugly.” Phoenix told him.

Jack looked at him in disbelief because Jack thought that the Turkey was actually really cute.

“You have to find things that remind you of Aunt Y/N and I don’t think she’d like the fact that you compared her to a Turkey.” Phoenix stated.

Even though Phoenix was only 9 he was actually really clever for his age. It’s something he had gotten from Urban.

“How about we start with body washes? Doesn’t she like stocking up on them?”

“That’s actually a really good idea let’s head over that way.” Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s a good idea I’m the one that though of it.”

Jack grabbed a few body washes that always reminded him of you, along with some face mask since you loved a good face mask.

“What about we get some candy?” Phoenix nodded his head. “That sounds good.”

Jack tossed in a few of your favorite candies into the basket and continued to shop around the store.

“We definitely need to get him this.” You told Venus as you held up a 24 pack of gum, some mornings Jack’s breath honestly should’ve been classified as a weapon.

“Definitely my daddy says that Uncle Jack’s breath stinks bad in the morning!” Venus stated and the two of you laughed.

“What else should we get him?”

You browsed around the clothing aisles and spotted a pair of matching Christmas pajamas even though it wasn’t anywhere near Christmas you wanted to get them, you even got a pair for Venus and Phoenix.

“How about some video games?” She suggested. “That’s a good idea Venus.”

You didn’t really know much about video games or what games Jack already had or didn’t have so you just picked a few that looked interesting.

“Wait! What about these?” You grinned at the pair of grinch themed underwear, you were almost certain Jack wasn’t going to wear them but you figured it would be funny to see his reaction.

“Yes get those!” Venus laughed as you tossed the underwear into the basket.

After getting a few more things the two of you went and paid for everything in your carts, when you all got back home Jack sat in the living room and made up his basket while you sat in the kitchen.

“Babe! Are you almost done.” Jack yelled out. “I’m done I’m coming to the living room.” You told him.

You grabbed your basket and made your way to the living room where Jack sat with Phoenix. “Wow you went all out.” He said and inspected the big blue basket that had a bunch of treats sticking out.

“I can say the same about you.” You handed him the basket you made for him and he handed you his basket he made.

“Oh wait I’ll be right back.” Jack went back upstairs and came down with two baskets you both made for the kids which they loved.

While Phoenix and Venus were occupied with the toys they had just received Jack and You were both opening your baskets.

“You got me my favorite body wash and candy.” You licked your lips at the bag of chocolate. He even got you a few candles and a few matching sets he saw that were going viral on tik tok.

“How did you know about these?” You questioned him. “You cheating on me? You got another women on the side?” You joked.

“What? No you know I only want you, I’m not dumb baby, but do you like everything?” He nervously asked. “I love everything, now open your basket.”

You grinned as he removed the tissue paper slowly and revealed everything that was in the basket.

You had gotten him the video games, a new soccer ball, the matching pajamas, house slippers and his favorite sun chips.

You even managed to make a Turkey out of your hand like you use to do back in Elementary School.

“Babe.” He laughed. “This is so cute.” He grinned. You smiled. “Yeah? You like it?” He smiled and nodded. “I love it thank you baby.”

He smiled and leaned into you and pressed a kiss to your lips to which you returned. “But I do have one question?” He asked.

“What is it?” He reached into the basket and pulled out a pack the 24 pack of gum.

“Why did you give me so much gum?” You couldn’t help but to burst into a fit of laughter along with Phoenix and Venus.

“It’s because you have the worse morning breath literally sometimes I feel like you’re going to knock me out in the mornings.”

Jack rolled his eyes playfully. “You know what since you wanna be rude I’m not talking to you.” He stood up and made his way into the kitchen.

“Jack, I’m joking!” You laughed. “Come back!”

Eventually Jack ended up coming back and the four of you spent the rest of the night together watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving together.

Towards the middle of the movie the kids ended up falling asleep, leaving Jack and You to be the only ones awake.

“Babe?” Jack asked. “Yes Jack?”

“I noticed you had gotten me a pair of grinch themed pajama earlier.” You laughed. “Oh yeah? Did you like them? I thought they were funny.”

“Oh I love ‘em but I was trying to see if you wanted to see how they looked like on and maybe what they look like off.” He whispered and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Jack, you’re the silliest person I know.” You laughed. “But you love me though.”

“That I do.” And you did love him and you were excited that the two of you had started a new tradition that would happen every year.

(I honestly struggled with this 💀😭 I couldn’t really think of anything Thanksgiving themed but I hope you still all enjoy it! 💘)

[mirisss]

SKZ Mafia AU

SKZ OT8 x afab! reader

Featuring Ateez, SKZ’s rival mafia

Wordcount ≈ 1.3k

Warnings: attempted kidnapping, violence, fighting, mention of weapons, 

I changed the story a tiny bit but I hope you still like it. 

Third person POV

(Y/n) had been out for a girl’s night with Lia and Chaeryeong, first some shopping, a dinner, some dessert, and now the next stop was a club. Lia and Chaer were excited and looking forward to dancing and singing their hearts out at the club. (Y/n) on the other hand, was feeling very tired, and she was contemplating going home to her eight boyfriends instead of going to the club. After thinking it over, she decided that she wanted to go home. 

“Hey, girls, not to ruin the night or anything but I’m really tired so I’ll head home, but you guys should go,” “Are you sure?” “Yes, Chaer, I’m sure. I’m really tired so even if I went to the club it wouldn’t be any fun, you know having me yawning and asking when we’d be going home. Besides, we can always go out some other time,” “Want us to wait with you until the taxi comes?” “Nah, it’s fine, I’ll just call the boys and they’ll come. They’re eating dinner about two streets away from here,” “Alright, text us when you get home,” “Will do,” 

As the two girls began walking again, (Y/n) took up her phone and dialed Chan’s number. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” “I’m really tired so I decided not to go clubbing, I just parted with the girls, are you guys still at Chang’s? I’m not too far from there so maybe we could meet up halfway?” “Yeah, we were just leaving, but I think it’s better if you stay where you are, if you’re alone you could become a target, just stay there and wait for us, we’ll be there in 5,” And so they hung up, (Y/n) spent the time scrolling through her phone, waiting for SKZ to show up. 

Suddenly, she saw two pairs of shoes coming into her view as she looked at her phone. She didn’t recognize them so (Y/n) looked up from her phone, hoping her boyfriends had just gotten new shoes. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. She met the eyes of two men that she did recognize, she turned and prepared to run, only to meet 6 more men, all sporting nasty smirks. “Where are you going, sweetheart?” The shortest man spoke, sending anxious shivers down (Y/n)’s spine as she hoped SKZ would arrive soon.

(Y/n) knew that her boyfriends were the leaders and members of a mafia gang, Stray Kids, also known as, SKZ. Though, previously, she had barely noticed it except for them carrying weapons, having a bunch of money, and often dressing the part of the Mafia. She had seen pictures of one of their rival gangs, Ateez. SKZ and Ateez were the two strongest mafias in town, they didn’t fight a ton but recently a conflict had sparked between the two gangs. And (Y/n) had now become caught in the middle of it. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” In an attempt to call for help, (Y/n) threw herself down on the cold, slightly wet ground. Clutching her phone close to her to hide it, she managed to dial Seungmin’s number but before she could actually say anything, Yunho lifted her off the ground causing her to drop her phone. Seungmin answered the call, calling out her name, with no response, all he heard was a familiar voice saying (Y/n)’s name and something along the lines of  “Cooperate and we won’t have to hurt you,” Seungmin hung up the call and told the others of what he heard, the eight of them ran full speed, hoping to arrive in time to save (Y/n). 

(Y/n) tried to run away, but failed miserably, the odds were against her. One vs eight, yeah, it didn’t look good for her. While trying to run away, she had fallen over a few times, resulting in a couple of scrapes and bruises, her phone had been shattered once Jongho noticed that (Y/n) had called Seungmin. Now, Ateez was trying to get (Y/n) to come with them away from the street. A few people were glancing at them but doing nothing as they recognized the gang and also noticed Mingi holding a gun completely visible in his hand, threatening anyone who might think of stepping in. 

“Come on, princess. Nothing bad has to happen, just shut your mouth and come with us,” Seonghwa said, (Y/n) wasn’t sure who he was but she faintly remembered seeing the name Seonghwa under a picture of a man who looked very similar to this one. “If you think I’ll just surrender to you, then you must be dumb,” It was evident that Seonghwa did not like that (Y/n) was talking back to him. “Darling, you’d be much happier if you did as we said. It wouldn’t be good if we had to resort to violence, now would it? Hmm, would you prefer to come with us or lose a limb?” (Y/n) would be lying if she said she wasn’t frightened by the demonic look in the eyes of the man who now stood before her, if she recalled correctly, this was San. 

Running on pure adrenaline and bravado, (Y/n) mustered up the courage to spit in San’s face. “I’d never stop fighting, now let me go,” “You bitch!” They all shouted at her action. (Y/n) was shaking, scared that she made the wrong decision and had commisioned her own death. She shut her eyes, preparing to be shot or stabbed or anything. She heard a lot of noise around yet she felt nothing until a pair of arms enveloped her in a warm hug. 

“(Y/n)” The familiar, warm voice of Felix greeted her ears as she let out a relieved breath. “Come on, (Y/n), let’s get out of here,” Felix shielded her view as he led her out of there, the other’s staying to resolve the conflict. No gunshots were heard, (Y/n) hoped they could resolve the conflict peacefully. Wishing that all her boyfriends would get out safely. Felix led her to their car, where the two sat and waited for the rest. A few minutes later, the seven remaining boys returned to the car. (Y/n) scanned them for injuries, happy to see that her eyes couldn’t find any. 

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Changbin asked as he frantically looked over (Y/n). “I’m okay, I have a few scrapes and light bruises, mostly I’m just shaken from it all,” All the boys gave (Y/n) a hug each, mostly to calm their own worries for her safety. “Let’s go home,” Hyunjin said as they all got into the car. 

Once at home, Lee Know and Han helped treat (Y/n) bruises and scrapes, then they all changed into comfortable clothes and sat down in their extravagant living room to watch a movie or two and cuddle. Happy they were all safe and sound in their home. 

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - Under the Table

The Tower - Under the Table

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 4585

Warnings:  smut (ten personal bixexual orgy, oral sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, some use of powers, blindfolds)

Synopsis:  It’s Elly’s birthday, and after dinner the group have their own special kind of party game, one where they find out how well they know each other, and who can keep a good poker face.

Author’s Note:  Long time no update! I’ve been writing really slow at the moment.  But I am still doing these if you have requests.  This one was Requested by bubsanddoll21 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too.

Takes place between The Tower and The Holiday Special

Under the Table

In the early days of my relationship with the Avengers, it was a rare event that all of us had a meal together at a table.  Ten people at a table felt more like a dinner party than a date.  Sitting around on the couches just felt more familiar and comfortable. So when we did sit down to eat, it was a special occasion.

This one was my birthday.

The others had wanted to do something special, so they decorated the conference room and Bucky, Sam, and Wanda had cooked a large meal.  It was nice and at the point where most of us had finished eating, Tony leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.  “We should have brought some games up with us,” he said.  “I could go a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity right now.”

“I could go down and get something,” Steve offered.

“You’re still eating, Steve,” Wanda said.  “Someone else can go.”

“Or!” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows.  “Or… we could play a different kind of game.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not talking about charades?” Sam asked.

“Because you know me too well, Sammy,” Clint said.  “I saw this thing…”

“What have I told you about watching that stuff on the company wifi?” Tony scolded.

Clint smirked at him.  “To invite you along when I do,” he teased and stuck his tongue out at Tony.  “Anyway, as I was saying; I saw this thing.  Someone gets under the table and starts going down on someone.  And if the person getting blown or eating out gives it away that it’s happening to them, they have to go under the table.  And if someone guesses the wrong person, it’s them.  Like a Blow Job Roulette.”

“Okay, that sounds fun,” I said.  “Can we?” 

There was a murmur around the table, and one by one everyone agreed it sounded like it could be fun.

“Birthday girl goes first,” Sam said.

“Shouldn’t I be the one that gets eaten out first?” I countered. 

“But then we’d all know it was you, and you’d just end up under the table,” Sam argued.  “You might as well start down there.”

I laughed.  The logic was flawed, but I figured it was as good a place as any.  “Alright, pants off everyone,” I said, slipping off my chair onto my knees under the table.  Everyone shuffled around, some of them just opening their pants and pulling their cocks out, while others stood and pushed their pants all the way down.  Wanda and Natasha were both wearing skirts, so they just took off their panties and hoisted up their skirts.  It was quite a sight under the table.  Nine people all around me, pants down, and legs spread.  Some of the men were already half-hard.  I looked around, picking my target.

Of all the members of the group, Wanda was calling to me the most.  She was wearing thigh-high black socks, heeled boots, and a black skirt that was bunched up.  Her legs were spread and the little thatch of pubic hair glistened invitingly.

I crawled over to her, putting my hands on her thighs.  She tensed and I ducked my head forward, licking up her slit.  I wondered what she looked like right now.  How she was hiding what was happening.  If she was hiding it.  From where I was, it seemed so obvious.  Her muscles had clenched and she’d tilted her hips forward.  I could even feel a slight shake in her thighs.  I couldn’t imagine it not being totally obvious from above the table, but if she was, no one had said anything yet.

I pushed my tongue inside her and flicked it up over her clit, painting little shapes over it.  She squirmed and her cunt flooded, and as the tart, musky flavor of her slick filled my mouth, Bucky, Tony, and Clint all called out at once. “Wanda!”

“No fair!” Wanda whined as I pulled away.

“That’s the game, Wanda,” Sam said.  “Now under the table.”

I crawled out and wriggled out of my pants as Wanda climbed in under the table.  I sat down and nothing seemed to happen for a while.  I could hear Wanda moving under the table for a moment, and then after that, it was just the sounds of people picking at the last of the food and random conversation in the group.

All of a sudden Clint yelped and practically rocketed up off his chair. “Wanda!” he scolded.  “No powers!”

She got up giggling as everyone burst out laughing.  “Did someone get invaded by some pink light?” Tony teased.

“That’s one way to put it,” Clint said as he climbed under the table.

It took a really long time before the next person became clear.  I was studying everyone very closely, and the only thing that had me wondering was the slightly bored looks in the eyes of Natasha and Tony.  Which made me think it was more likely Tony as he usually dominated the conversation.  It wasn’t until his brow furrowed and he moved his hand under the table that I knew for sure it was him.

“Tony!” I yelled, pointing at him.  “It’s you!”

“Ah, shit,” Tony said, reaching under the table with both hands and began to rut his hips.  “Wait, Clint, I’m nearly done.”

“Hey now,” Steve said.  “You can wait like the rest of us.”

Clint made a choked sound and stumbled out from under the table, his eyes watering, and he wiped his mouth.  “Jesus,” he cursed.  “Tony was a terrible choice.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony said, as he smoothed down his shirt.  “The amount of calls I’ve taken while I’ve been balls deep in someone.”

“Alright, alright, get under the table smart ass,” Steve said.

Tony laughed as he climbed under, and I decided on a completely different strategy.  I glanced around the table, trying to see if anyone had given it away, but at the same time, I tensed my hands and took in a shaky breath.

“Elly!” Clint, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all said at once.

“No!” I shouted and Bruce groaned. “It’s Bruce!”

“You little…!” Natasha scolded.  “That was evil!”

Tony had broken down into laughter under the table and he crawled his way out.  “That was awesome,” he said.  “Now what?  Do all of you have to get under the table?”

“Might I suggest that we alter the game?” Thor asked.  “Perhaps, rather than all of us trying to work out who is being pleasured, Lady Elise should be blindfolded and have to work out which of her lovers is pleasuring her.”

“I think that sounds like a fantastic idea,” Natasha said.  “If she can guess, then they can make her come.  If not, she just gets edged.”

“What do you think of that, Elise?” Steve asked.

I nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, please. It is my birthday after all.”

“We might need lube and something to blindfold El with,” Sam said.  “I mean - if we’re going to have real fun that is.”

Wanda lifted her loop scarf off over her head, and Tony, Clint, Natasha, and Thor all fished in their pockets and pulled out lube.  What was funny was none of them had the same kind of lube.  Tony had the warming gel kind, Clint’s was espresso flavored, Natasha’s doubled as a massage gel, and Thor’s was an oil he’d brought from Asgard and came in a delicate-looking, hand-blown glass bottle.

Steve and Wanda approached me as the others started clearing the table.  “Let’s get you ready, Elise,” Steve said.

Steve lifted my shirt off over my head and Wanda unfastened my bra.  I let the fabric slip down my arms and Steve tossed both it and my bra aside.  Wanda kissed me softly and then wrapped the scarf around the top of my head, obscuring my vision.  When it was in place properly, and I had assured them I couldn’t see anything, Steve lifted me and put me on the table.

I lay back and lifted my legs, spreading them and resting my feet at the edge of the table.  They made me wait a moment, and while I waited, they were clearly not keeping their hands to themselves.  There were moans and the soft wet sounds of kissing around me, which only made that wait worse.

My thighs were trembling by the time someone touched me.  Right away I knew it was one of the guys and not Natasha or Wanda, and given the fact that he touched me with both hands, and they were both flesh, I knew it wasn’t Bucky either.

There was no preamble. Whoever it was just lunged in and began to lap up the length of the slit.  They didn’t even try spreading me with their fingers, rather their tongue pushed between my folds and just got to work.  I could feel the scratch of their beard.  Yet, even without that, they were very skilled with their tongue.  It started wide, sweeping up from my entrance to my clit, and then began to focus on the little but, sending little jolts through me.  I didn’t even need the extra sensation of their long hair tickling the insides of my thighs, I knew it was Thor.  The size of his hands, the beard, and the technique all screamed the god of thunder to me.

“Mmm… Thor,” I moaned, lifting my hips to meet his mouth.

A deep booming chuckle sounded between my legs and Thor sent a jolt of electricity right through my clit making my body jerk up hard.  I nearly came just from that.

“How do you even do that?” Tony laughed. “You are too good at this game.”

“You gotta make me come now,” I said breathlessly, reaching down to tangle my hands into Thor’s hair.

“Don’t worry, lover.  I will,” Thor said.

He was good to his word.  He pulled my clit between his lips and began to flick his tongue over it.  Every now and again, he’d send another spark into it, that made my core muscles clench completely out of my control.  It brought me careening to the edge very quickly and the fourth time he did it, the dam burst and I came, arching up hard off the table as my orgasm crashed through me.

“Fucking hell!” I cried out.

“Damn, Thor,” Sam said.  “That had to be some kind of record.”

“I am a god, Samuel,” Thor bragged.

There was only a short wait for the next person to move up.  It was another one of the men and once again, clearly not Bucky.  This person was much more tentative than Thor, spreading my folds with his fingers, and slowly swirling his tongue over them.   He was tender and methodical, and it sent a warm buzz through me, oozing out like honey on tiles.  There was no beard, and the very faint tickle of the hair on his head on my thighs.

“Bruce,” I moaned, arching my back and lifting one leg so it was draped over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Tony cursed.  “You’re gonna be having so many orgasms tonight.”

“I know you all too well,” I moaned.  “Gonna have to mess up on purpose so I don’t die.”

“Let’s see how you go,” Bruce said and eased two fingers inside me.

Bruce was slower and more methodical about things than Thor, at least initially.  He pushed his fingers in deep, touching my g-spot and then stroking over it.  As he did, he pulled my clit between his lips and flicked his tongue over it.  The louder I moaned the rougher he got, so it wasn’t long before he’d gone from careful and slow, to rough and fast.  His fingers hammered into my g-spot, over and over, sending sharp jolts right through me, making it so I couldn’t think straight.  Beside me, someone had started having sex, and from the sounds of it, it’d be a while before Clint was down between my legs.

My orgasm peaked and Bruce pushed his fingers against my g-spot and twisted his wrist, and I came, my back arching off the table as I cried out, shuddering with it.

Bruce hummed and pulled away. “Mmm… I love seeing you come,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss me.

I sucked my slick from his lips and he pulled away, running his hand down my stomach and patting my pussy before pulling away.  I didn’t have to wait very long before the next person to take their place.  Right away I could tell it was one of the women, which narrowed the choice down to two.  I almost wanted to just take a shot in the dark and really freak them out.  I didn’t even need to though, the slow tease of her fingers up my thighs, and the way she ran her nails over my hips as she leaned in, I knew right away it was Natasha.  Not because she always touched me like that, but just that it was uniquely her.

“Natasha!” I said quickly.

She cursed in Russian and Tony burst out laughing, while at least two other people applauded me.  I would have taken a bow if I wasn’t flat on my back.  “That’s my girl,” Natasha praised and got to work.

Her nimble fingers pushed inside me and immediately pushed against my g-spot. I gasped and bucked up hard against her, but she just pushed my hips back down and continued doing it.  She countered the intense pressure of her fingers against that sweet spot inside me with her tongue on my clit.  It was intense.  I couldn’t focus.  Lights popped behind my eyes and each time I tried to say something all that came out was an animalistic cry.

When I came, I gushed, spraying Natasha with my juices as I arched hard on the table.  It was so intense, it knocked every conscious thought out of my head and I just oozed down onto the table, breathing heavily, completely forgetting that there were still six more people to go.

“Well done, Mishka,” Natasha praised.“I hope you have more in you.”

I wasn’t so sure.  In fact, when the next person stepped up, it took me a moment to realize there was even someone there.  Their tongue was lapping up and down my folds before I was truly aware enough to remember I was supposed to be playing a game.

The way they lapped their tongue was almost soothing after the intensity of the last orgasm I had.  There was a scratch of beard on my skin, but my foggy head made it hard to think about which beard it could be.

Finally, it clicked into place.  No metal hand.  That cut out Bucky.  Clint and Steve were both clean-shaven.  Which just left Tony and Sam.  I was sure that Tony would want to torture me after what happened and he wouldn’t be going easy on me at all. “Sam…” I moaned, the sounds completely breathless.

“We should never have doubted you,” Thor said.  “This is truly impressive.”

“Are you sure you’re not peeking?” Clint asked.

“Just know you all,” I argued in that same breathless moan.

Sam pulled back and a moment later there was the press of his cock against my cunt. “Let’s make you come a different way,” Sam said.

He lifted my legs so they were up against his chest and he pushed into me.  As he started to thrust into me, I gripped the edge of the table to hold myself steady. “Oh fuck,” I moaned.  I was so sensitive and overworked, that I knew the next six orgasms would happen really fast.  I was going to be completely over-stimulated by the time we were done.

Sam slid his hands down my thighs and onto my cunt, and he began to rub my clit in tight circles. I mewled, arching my back and clenching tight around his shaft.  “Oh god, Sam.  Please…”  I didn’t even know what I was pleading for.  I just knew I needed something.  More, harder, slow down, be gentle.  Or maybe just to stop.

His thumb kept rubbing in tight circles on my clit and thrusting in fast and deep, and very quickly I was brought spiraling to the edge once more.  He pinched my clit and I went toppling over, crying out and clenching my teeth as all my muscles clenched up at once.

“Good girl,” Sam praised.  “There we go.”

He slipped out of me and I let my legs fall on the table.  “You still okay?” he asked.

I nodded and made an incoherent sound.  He caressed my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lips.  “Elise, are you sure?”

I nodded again.  “Yeah.  I can do this.”

He stepped away and the next hand touched me. Just the right hand, and it slid up my legs and when it reached the apex of my thigh, the thumb ran up and down my slit.  Someone might have been just trying to mess with me, but I didn’t think so, and when the person crouched and their long hair teased the inside of my thighs it confirmed it.  “Bucky,” I said.

He laughed. “Damn it.  I was trying not to give it away.”

“That’s what gave it away,” I said.

“Alright, alright, let’s make you come then,” he said, sounding a lot like he was pouting.

He didn’t even bother to try and go down on me.  He just pushed my legs up against my body, lined his cock up to my cunt, and shoved in deep.  I gasped as he bottomed out and I felt the sharp sting of the head of his cock hitting my cervix.  “Bucky,” I whined.

“Sorry, honey,” he said, backing off a bit.  He smoothed his hands down my thighs and began to thrust.

I reached up, grabbing his wrists as he thrust into me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him in as tightly as I could.  “Bucky,” I moaned.  “Kiss me.”

He wrapped his right arm around my waist and lifted me, so I was sitting on the edge of the table and the cool metal of his thumb brushed over my lips.  I parted them, leaning forward as I wrapped my arms around him and pushed my hands into his hair.

He kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth.  I flicked my tongue forward to meet his and they danced together.  Bucky kept thrusting into me and I rolled my hips to meet him.  As worked up as I was, I knew I wouldn’t last, but the way this orgasm built felt so different from the past four.  It wound around me like a warm blanket.  I was engulfed by it, cocooned completely.  It heated me from the inside and yet I trembled in Bucky’s arms.  He held me close, thrusting in deep and kissing me with a passionate intensity that took my breath away.

When my orgasm washed over me, I threw my head back and clenched tight around me.  “Oh god, Bucky,” I moaned.

Bucky’s hips stuttered and he groaned loudly, burying his head in my neck. “Fuck, Elly,” he groaned, suddenly jerking forward and coming inside me.

“Bucky Barnes, you dirty dog,” Clint scolded.  “Leaving a mess in there for us to clean up.”

I swatted lazily in Clint’s direction as Bucky started laughing. “Oh like you’re not looking forward to that.”

He pulled out of me and I lay back with a groan.  It wasn’t long before someone else was between my legs.  They lifted them and spread them wide and then did something that gave them away immediately.  They laughed.

“What’s so funny, Tony?” I asked.

“Ah fuck,” he said. “Didn’t even get a chance to trick you.  I just had plans to go to town on you.”

“Mean,” he said, reaching for him.  “Go on, you gotta give me my prize.”

“Alright, alright,” he said and pushed his cock up against my cunt.  “It’s coming and so will you be.”

I laughed, but it was cut short as he shoved inside of me.  He thrust in so hard it nearly knocked the wind from me.  I cried out and reached above my head.  Someone grabbed my hand and I held onto them as Tony began to thrust into me.

He didn’t go easy on me the way Bucky had.  He grabbed my legs, held me in place, and just railed into me.  “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” I babbled as I was jolted on the table.  My fingers tightened around whoever’s hand I was holding.  It felt like this orgasm was being hammered into me.  Each thrust of Tony’s hips just made it build more and more until I was ready to burst.

It hit me hard, lights popped behind my eyes and I cried out, my hips bucking and my body writhing under him.  “Oh fuck yes, Tony!” I mewled.

Tony kept thrusting, fucking me through my orgasm, and with a shudder he came too, moaning as he did.  “There you go, Legolas,” Tony teased as he held me in place.

He leaned down and kissed me as he pulled out, and stepped away.  A lay on the table breathing heavily, waiting for the next person the move up.

I didn’t have to wait long, and once again, I knew who it was as soon as their hands were on my skin.

“Wanda,” I said.

She giggled.  “I knew there was no point trying to trick you.  But lucky you, now you get your prize.”

She took her hands off me completely and just as I wondered what she was doing, the warm tingle of her powers touched on my feet and began to wind their way up my leg.  It was slow going, and it didn’t settle on my cunt right away, rather, it wrapped its way right around me, making my whole body buzz and tingle.

I whined, squirming on the table.  I was still holding someone’s hand, and I gripped it tighter, trying to tether myself to something real.

“Please, Wanda,” I whined, bucking my hips.

She giggled again, but things started to get more focused.  It swirled around my nipples, tugging on them, and began to buzz against my clit. I moaned, arching my back and the pressure increased.  Every moan I made made her increase the pressure of her powers on me.  My nipples hardened almost painfully and a hot current ran right through me from my clit.  I was dripping on the table as my cunt clenched around nothing.

It started to feel like some kind of torture.  I was so close, and yet she was keeping me hovering there right at the edge.  “Please.  Please, Wanda.  I need … I need…”

“Yes, Elly?” she asked.

“I need to come,” I wailed.

A jolt shot through me, and just like that, I came, arching hard off the table, and screaming as my orgasm rocked through me, making me gush onto the table.  It was the most intense orgasm yet, and for a moment everything went black.

When the world returned, I was panting heavily, completely dazed as I rode out the extreme orgasm high.

“Holy shit, Wanda,” Natasha cursed.  “That was impressive.”

“Two more left, El,” Steve said.  “You sure you’ve got them in you?”

I nodded slowly.  “Think so.”

Someone moved up and skimmed the back of their fingers up the insides of my thighs.  It was a Clint trick, but not out of Steve’s playbook. Whoever it was leaned in, ghosting his lips up the insides of my soaked thighs.  His fingers moved to my cunt, spreading it with his fingers and running his tongue up my slit.  There was no beard, but both Clint and Steve were currently clean-shaven, so that didn’t give it away.  I really had no idea who was touching me.

I lifted my feet, put them on his shoulders, and flexed my toes.  Whoever it was was broad-shouldered and muscular.  That didn’t exactly narrow it down either.  And just because Steve was broader than Clint, I chose him.

“Steve?” I asked.

“You sure about that, darlin’?” Bucky asked. 

“No… but it’s my guess,” I moaned.

Some of the group started clapping.  “Well done, that’s all of you.  How about Clint and Steve make you come together, so you only have to do one more?” Sam suggested.

I nodded emphatically.  “Please.”

Steve moved forward, the thick head of his cock pressing against my cunt.  I raised my hips to meet him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer to me.  He pulled back just a little and with a snap of his hips, he sunk in deep.

I gasped and arched my back.  As I did, Clint moved up beside me on the table and began to flick his tongue over my clit and play with my breast.  The table was jostled beside us and Clint grunted and let out a moan.

“Who’s fucking Clint?” I moaned.

“That’d be me, honey,” Sam replied.  “You want to see?”

I nodded.  “Please.”

The blindfold was taken off as Steve continued to thrust into me.  I blinked at the light and looked around, Taking everything in.  Steve was between my legs, holding me in place, his brow furrowed as he fucked me.  Clint was half propped on the table, bent over me, licking at my clit and that base of Steve’s cock.  Sam was behind him, one hand braced on Clint’s shoulder and the other on his hip as he thrust into him, jostling him against me.  The others were spaced around the table.  Most just watching.  Thor was the one holding my hand, though Wanda was bouncing in his lap, her eyes glowing pink.

Everyone else was just kissing and holding each other as they watched Clint and Steve bring on my final orgasm.  Seeing them just added to my pleasure, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I relaxed back, just letting the pleasure wash over me, It encompassed me completely.  But in the end, it wasn’t either Steve or Clint that set my orgasm off, it was Wanda’s orgasm.

She cried out and her powers burst out of her and I was hit by a sudden, intense wave of her pleasure.  I came hard, all my muscles clenching at once making me arch violently off the table.  I cried out and my vision blacked out for a moment.  Wanda’s orgasm must have affected the others too.  Steve groaned and gripped my hips hard shoving into me and coming deep inside me.  Sam’s hips bucked and his head fell back as his hit too, and Clint suddenly arched like a cat and came in thick ropes onto the table.

I fell back breathing heavily as I rode the waves of my orgasm.  Steve hunched over me panting and Clint slithered down and lay there with his head on my stomach.

That’s how we stayed for a while and then Natasha stood.  “Okay.  How about we clean up here and head downstairs?  I think it’s time for a soak in the hot tub.” 

Steve sighed contentedly and slipped out of me.   He pulled up his pants and then picked me up, cradling me against him. “Good birthday?” he asked.

I hummed, snuggling against his chest and closing his eyes as I murmured my reply. “The best.”

~ END ~

[captain-mj]

The Last and The First

Made myself a little sad about the idea of MaceGhost being exes and the concept of moving on and wrote this? SoapGhost is end game but it's more about Ghost seeing Mace and getting a bunch of feelings

I've decided I like this ship though :)

Ghost hated working with other people. He had gotten used to occasionally working with merc groups like Kortac and he even did runs for SpecGru on occasion. Usually though, he either refused or had Price make sure it was someone he liked. This time, Price had put in the request for König and Horangi and anyone who might have information on Makarov. 

He didn’t think too much about the set or the mission. No matter what, he’d finish this job and bring himself and Soap home. Hopefully König and Horangi too, but if not, oh well. This third person would be of no importance either. 

Soap wanted to greet them at the tarmac so Ghost went with him. The two of them watched the three people come down. Ghost remained silent, just glancing over the person who came in. They wore a thick jacket with a high collar and gloves. They had a golden mask on that shimmered slightly. 

König and Soap started to chatter away about something. It sounded like a show but Ghost had a hard time keeping up so he turned away from them. He planned to just talk with Horangi, but then he saw the third person there. 

They locked eyes and both paused. 

“Simon?” He sounded confused, soft and a little angry. 

König and Horangi looked confused, not knowing Ghost’s first name, but Soap was immediately on guard and confused by this stranger that knew such a big secret.

“Mace.” Ghost responded as professionally and coldly as he possible could. 

Horangi frowned. “Your name is Simon?” He seemed affronted at the idea, like Ghost should have a cooler name or something. 

Mace stepped closer, a picture of everything that Simon had thought of while being tortured. When his body had hurt and blood was on the ground, Simon had thought of him often. He wore a gold mask and his warm eyes stared into him. “You’re alive. You’re…” His eyes scanned over Ghost, breathing him in. There was a tinge of anger to his voice, but it was overshadowed by the disbelief. 

Soap cleared his throat, looking a little… jealous? That didn’t make much sense to Ghost but that’s what he looked like. “Name’s Soap and you are?”

“Like your….” Mace raked his eyes over Ghost in a way that could only be described as salacious. “Lieutenant said. Name is Mace.”

“And you know Ghost how?”

“Ghost.” Mace repeated. “Didn’t know you made it out of the Zaragoza Drug Cartel. Always assumed you died there.”

“I was there for seven months. Then I walked to Texas, spent a while there. How long did you look for me?”

“Don’t think I ever stopped.” Mace replied with a sincerity that made Ghost sick. 

“How much do you know about Makarov?”

König and Horangi both winced in unison. Soap looked a tad bit smug about it. 

Mace was professional. He told them everything he knew, which he admitted wasn’t much. 

Ghost and him walked together as they debriefed each other on everything. 

Soap quickly got between them to listen better. He made sure to lean into Ghost once they were in the meeting room, setting a clear line. 

Mace looked at him before simply shrugging him off. The five of them worked seamlessly, all of them having a unique skill or ability that gave them all good chemistry. 

Before long the four of them had infiltrated the building and Ghost had set up at his sniping position. 

“So.” Soap asked after a while. “You two know each other?”

Horangi interrupted. “Yeah, I’ve been dying to know what’s been going on with you two.” 

Mace hummed. “Simon?”

Ghost shot a target, watching carefully to make sure that no one saw it. “Few years ago, before I got my callsign, we fucked. That’s it. No need to act like you guys are.”

Silence followed before König whisper screamed into the mic. “Mace you fucked Ghost!!!”

“He wasn’t Ghost when we dated. I just called him Pretty Boy.”

“It was fucking embarrasing nickname.”

“You were pretty. Though, I can appreciate the muscle you put on.” Mace stabbed someone. They could hear the death gurgle where he held them against his chest and their mouth was near the mic. “Then Vernon took you.”

“He got his.”

“Your hands?”

“Roba.”

“And what happened to Roba?” Mace asked, a smile in his voice. 

Ghost smiled too, finding a familiar ease in being around him again. A spark that led back to before the mask. Before Ghost. “That was my hands.”

“Just like old times. You were little bastard back then and you haven’t changed.”

“It’s one of the things I love about Ghost.” Soap said softly. “I’ve set another charge. Should be able to head back soon, yeah Simon?”

Ghost remembered himself. “Yes. Good job, Johnny.”

“Thank you, sir.” Soap was clearly preening and Ghost was never one to tell him no. 

“How long were two together?”

“Six months.” Mace answered. “He was a good kisser. In case you were wondering.”

Horangi laughed and they were all able to feel the hate rolling off of Soap even through the silence. 

Ghost laughed a little. “Don’t get jealous, Johnny. I kissed lots of boys and girls through high school and boot camp.” 

König stifled his laughter. “Not sure I believe it.”

“I don’t wear a mask because of anxiety.” 

Now there were two silent angry people. 

The mission was uneventful. He barely interacted with Mace after that. 

They were staying the night in the safe house before exfil could pick them up. 

Ghost was eager to get a shower. The place he had been sniping had some sort of plant that had stuck to his clothes and any piece of skin it could. It made him itch slightly. He excused himself and went to the bathroom. Before he could get the door shut, Mace put his hand on the door.

“Simon. Can we talk?”

Ghost took a deep breath and let go of the door. “Yeah. Come in.”

Mace stepped in. “Just fucking?”

Simon stayed silent. 

“We fucked? That’s it?”

Simon bit his lip hard, glad he still had his mask on to cover it.

“I was in love with you.”

“I know.”

“I searched. God I searched. When I joined a merc group, I was hoping to hear something. Kept my ear to the ground.” 

Ghost looked away. Part of him wanted to ask for forgiveness. Another part hated Mace for making him feel like that young cadet again. “Had to do what i had to do Mace.”

They stared at each other and the air crackled between them. It would be easy to lift the mask. Kiss him. Fall right back into the relationship they had as young guys in the SAS. 

But Ghost was not that person. 

Neither was Mace. 

It hit them both at the same time. 

“You and Soap…”

“We’re not dating. Officially.”

“You and I both know that doesn’t mean anything.”

Ghost shook his head and looked away. If Mace had come a few months earlier. If he hadn’t been so roughed up after Roba. If he had put his thoughts together long enough to remember the soldier that kissed him at night. Maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe right now, they could kiss and it would feel nice instead of like cheating. He wasn’t even with Soap but his heart didn’t know that. 

Mace sighed. “Don’t worry. I haven’t been some celibate monk waiting for you. Seeing you brought back some feelings, but I’d never fault you for not returning them.”

“They did for me too. Feelings. Were brought back, I mean.”

They were quiet a moment before Ghost continued. “Not enough though, right?”

“No. Not enough. I’m happy you’re alive. I’m happy you might be happy one day. But I can’t give up what I’ve built for you.” 

“And I can’t give up the military.”

Mace stepped forward and Simon lifted his mask. The kiss was… chaste. It was very much a goodbye. The slightest brush of lips. “You’ve changed a lot.”

“So have you.”

Mace pulled away. “Please ease the Scottish man’s mind. I don’t want to be blown up.”

“Understood.” Ghost smiled a little before pulling his mask back down. “Might ask him on a date after this.”

Mace nodded. “You should. You deserve to be happy.” 

“So do you. Don’t become a celibate monk.”

They laughed and Mace patted him. He left the bathroom and let Simon finally shower. When he got out, he put his bedroll between Johnny and the door and settled in for the night, watching the door. 

Ghost listened to everyone’s breathing drop off except König who was on first watch. 

Soap sighed. “Mace is… cool.” He spoke quietly enough that only Ghost would hear it.

“What did I say earlier about being jealous?”

“Not jealous.” 

Ghost turned over, despite his instincts to keep watching the door. He looked at Soap and sighed. “He was my first love. But he’s not my last. You don’t have to worry about him taking me away from you.”

“Why would I worry about that?”

Ghost pulled Soap over rather easily despite how much he weighed. He pulled Soap under his chin and to his chest. “Want to go to the bar after this?”

“With the 141?”

“Nah. Just us.”

Soap grabbed the arm around his waist. “Yeah. I would.”

Ghost settled in closer. 

With any luck, Soap would be his last love.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/730572795212398592/what-is-up-with-all-the-trans-men-on-this-hellsite?source=share

As a trans man, I might have some insight into this one. I'm a lot older than the standard uwu sparkle anti, but I was in my mid twenties for the first wave of weirdness about trans boys on Tumblr about a decade ago, so I was just too old for it then, and I saw a lot of guys my age and a little younger get swept up in it.

OTNF rightly points out that young trans men are a particularily vulnerable demographic. This is part of it, but we're also a demographic that doesn't sit comfortably with our identites (gender identities or otherwise) and are told by everyone (on every side) that we are Doing It Wrong, that our existence harms others, and that we must be this specific way to be good people.

I'm sure you've seen the "trans men are better than real cis men" rhetoric. It's meant to be inclusive and to reassure us that we're not bad people just because of our gender, but it also denies us our entire gender identity.

So basically, you've got a bunch of young guys, most of whom were socialised like girls and learned to never be too assertive, many of whom are straight up suffering from dysphoria and stress, being told by people both within and outside of their communities that the are Wrong and Bad and Harmful just for existing. It makes sense that a lot of them would would find a movement based on moral posturing that will accept them if they perform correctly and will use their real name and pronouns. That's what Antis are; they say "use this vocabulary, send hate mail to that person, put these terms in your DNI, don't be caught reading that story", and, unlike other groups that police people's tastes and performance that hard, they're not overtly hostile to trans identities. So you can spout the right rhetoric, use the right tumblr icon, and they will actually accept you (on the surface, for a time, but we're talking about young and desperate people who aren't looking at the long game).

Helping them harass those badwrong horrible NOTP shippers or aces or middle aged women or some random artist who got caught drawing the wrong age gap or whoever is the fashionable target will prove that you aren't a horrible monster for being a man, you're moral and upright and correct.

And yes a lot of it is internalised misandry (that word has a lot of dumb baggage, but how else can I describe a boy who hates himself for being a boy?), or self-loathing born of dysphoria and just plain having to live in a world that's hostile to trans people.

Being an anti is a way out. It's a way to manufacture acceptence. And they're too young and too hurt to realise that that acceptance is as temporary and hostile as the people who accept them only if they pretend to be girls; the antis will turn on them the moment they start acting a little too manly or if they're caught liking the wrong ship.

(I've seen something similar happen to young cis queer guys and trans girls, too, but it isn't as pronounced since being raised as a boy means you probably already learned that standing up for yourself is ok sometimes)

--

I'm sure it also doesn't help that tumblr is absolutely full of BL/slash fandom. There's certainly plenty of gender diversity in these spaces, but it's inescapable that the majority of participants are women. So for a young, insecure guy trying to assert that he is a guy, it's easy to fall prey to "Waaaah, I need to reclaim my hobby for me!" gatekeepy nonsense.

Sure, it's going to be turned on nbs even harder than on cis women and will be used to misgender other trans men in the end and misogyny isn't cool anyway, but that's not what your average traumatized young fool is thinking when they first join up. They're thinking "I hurt."

TBH, though, probably the largest component is that all of us—all of us—have a mental image of a default human for a given context. It's rarely a trans man. And so anything a trans man does stands out and is A Thing Trans Men Do.

This is true even if you are trans. It is true even if you are not a transphobic dickhead. Unlearning the 'why girls are bad at math' xkcd strip is extraordinarily hard because recognizing patterns and having mental defaults is just how human brains work.

There are shittons of cis women who become antis, but they're just not notable in the same way.

Are trans men more vulnerable to becoming antis? It's possible, and the reasons you outlined above are likely why. I think it's an interesting question to discuss if we are specifically discussing why the trans men who do become antis do so.

But we don't actually have any hard facts to support that they are more prone to it than anybody else. My guess would be that vulnerable people are more likely to become antis, so any cis woman with a strong source of vulnerability like a shittastic home life is similarly vulnerable to a young trans man with no support network, but who knows.

Maybe only 5% of trans men on tumblr are antis and 50% of cis women. Maybe it's 90% of trans men and 20% of cis women. Maybe it's 1% and 1% and they're just all very loud.

We have no data. We just don't know.

And we will never be able to trust our own brains on this until trans vs. cis is such a nonissue that we don't even notice it.

[marriiemeii]

Protective || csc

word count: 2056

genre: fluff, overthinking (slight), husband seungcheol

synopsis: seungcheol's overthinking causes his protective side to show a bit.

Seungcheol's List

As I was watching my wife walk to her car while shivering from the cold and walking in a cute way, I realized that she's not a very intimidating person, or at least to me she wasn't. If people saw her the way I do, they'd think she was kind of innocent or naive, aka an easy target and that's something I didn't really want or like.

This was something I wondered about pretty often seeing how she acts whenever she's with me. She's always very playful or happy, which isn't bad but again it makes me wonder if people see her as an easy target. I often tell her to make sure she doesn't look like an easy target, to be aware of her surroundings, and a bunch of different things to make sure she'll be safe whenever she decides to go out alone. It's a rare occasion but it does happen sometimes.

But as I watch her walk on the curb in front of me to get to her car, I wonder if she actually takes my advice when she's alone. My heart slowly feels like it's dropping down as the realization hits me that she's going out alone and people might think she's an easy target. Someone could try slipping something in her drink when she’s not looking, they could see her getting out of her car alone and follow her around, so many things could go wrong.

I catch up to her as she continues walking towards her car. She looks back when she hears my footsteps getting closer to her and smiles at me brightly as I stop in front of her.

"Did I forget something?" She tilts her head in wonder. I stare at her, debating in my head if I would sound overprotective if I talk to her about my worries. I shake my head with a small smile. 

"You didn't forget anything. Just wondering if you'd like me to go with you?" I suggested to her. She hums thinking about my offer.

"You're gonna go with me to the club, when it's supposed to be girl's night? Even Niki, Minah, and Cami  are going by themselves," She pouts at me.

I scratch the back of my neck nervously. "I don't mind, I'll just go to the bar until you're done."

She looks at me curiously before asking, "Is there a reason why you want to go? I don't mind you coming with me, y'know? I love you and will never be bothered by your presence, but it just seems really random for you to wanna come with me."

As she told me this, I started to feel guilt pooling in my stomach. Here I am, disturbing her time with her friends when she never really sees them in person due to their schedule and even locations not matching, since most of them tend to travel often. Not only that but she also never really asks to go to guys' night out unless the girls will be there too. I don't want to be the reason why she ends up not having as much fun if I tell her my reasoning.

"No, there's no reason. I just wanted to go out with you. Just feeling a little off right now." I explained. Because I'm afraid something could happen to you but I don't wanna ruin your night out.

She laughs then grabs my arm and starts dragging me back to our home. I let her drag me despite knowing I could just stay in place if I wanted to.

"Why are we going back to the house?" I asked her. She looks back at me to shush me before opening the front door. She kicks off her black heels and looks down at my shoes, hinting at me to take off my shoes as well. I sigh in fake exasperation before kicking off my shoes.

She continues dragging me through the house all the way to our bedroom before stopping in front of the bed. She turns around and grabs my shoulders before moving me to stand in front of the bed while facing her. She pushes my shoulders down so that I'd sit down and I comply.

"Sooo, what's happening?" I hesitantly ask her. She walks to our shared closet ignoring my question. I hear her rummaging through the clothes as she hums to herself.

She walks out of the closet with some clothes in her hands, that look awfully a lot like mine, and drops it on the bed next to me. Before looking at me with her arms on her hips.

"If you're coming with me, I get to choose what you're wearing and you're wearing that outfit," She nodded towards the pile, she unceremoniously plopped right next to me.

I look at her questioningly. She sighs before explaining her actions.

"Every time we go to the club, girls flock all over you and it makes me wanna stay next to you. But if we match, maybe it'll ward them off!" She reasons with a smile, thinking her plan was brilliant.

"But, I mean, wouldn't a lot of people match with us? You didn't choose anything specific," I tell her as I look through the clothes. Her face scrunches up in confusion.

"What do you mean? It's unique! We're both wearing black turtleneck shirts, brown bottoms, and black shoes!" She argues, frowning at me.

I admit that the turtlenecks are unique but I don't think people would really notice that at the club. I just smile slightly at her and nod my head quietly, not wanting her to destroy the closet to look for clothes.

"You're sure, you're alright with me disrupting girl's night?" I asked her, concerned that she may be hiding her feelings from me. Like what I'm currently doing. I'm a hypocrite.

She walks to me and squeezes herself between my thighs before wrapping her arms around my neck. She pecks my forehead and lays her forehead against my own with her eyes closed.

"Of course, I'd want you there. You always make me feel safe, knowing that you're there to help me out when I need you," She says quietly. I bring my arms up from my sides to wrap them around her waist. She seems so fragile to me as I hold her like this. I inhale deeply to calm my worries about her going out. Breathing in her scent helped me be at ease a lot. The guilt in me seemed to fade away and the nagging voice in my head quieted down.

I pulled away from the hug a bit to look up at her from my seat, as she opened her eyes and looked down at me. I could feel her fingers playing with the ends of my hair by my neck. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and just let her play with my hair.

“I, uh, the reason why I wanted to go was because I was overthinking. It occurred to me that I don’t really know how you are in public when I’m not around and I just thought that, maybe, you don’t take the advice I gave you about when you’re in public,” I looked away embarrassed that I was thinking kind of poorly of my own wife. Her fingers stopped playing with my hair and she took her hands away. I tried my best to not show that I wanted her to continue. She put her hands on my face and turned it to make me look at her in the eyes.

“I hope you know that I do take your advice seriously. You told me that when I’m in public, I need to show that I’m not an easy target, so I pretend to be tough,” She remarks with a stern face. It was quiet for a bit after her declaration. Until I started to chuckle a bit and eventually turned into full on laughs.

She looks at me with a pout on her face, somewhat offended that I was laughing at what she said. “What’s so funny, huh??”

I continued laughing, thinking of her being “tough” in public. Her being tough didn’t seem like it would fit on her, especially with what I know about her. She was the equivalent to a baby kitten trying to be tough. When they hiss and glare at you but they’re not scary at all, if anything it’s just cute to watch.

“I said to be aware of your surroundings and try not to look like you’re an easy target, not to be tough. I don’t think tough is in your vocabulary anyways,” I answered her, after my laughter seemed to calm down. She takes her hands away completely as she pouts and attempts to back away from me, but my arms were wrapped around her so she couldn’t get very far.

“Lemme gooo, I don’t like you anymore. You’re making fun of me when all I’m trying to do is make you feel better,” She mumbled. I shook my head at her and buried my face in her stomach. She starts squealing andlaughing because her stomach is ticklish. She squirms around trying to get away from me but my grip around her was too tight. I lift my face up from her stomach and look at her with a smile, happy to hear her laugh and see her smile. She pants a little as she calms down from the small tickling session.

“So, did you still wanna come with me? Like I said before I don’t mind you being there, as long as you’re ok with being with us girls,” She probed.

“The girls won’t be mad I’m crashing your girls’ night?” I thought of how they might react. They don’t seem like the type to get mad, but they definitely would make fun of me.

“Of course they won’t be mad, they’re just gonna bother you to be our waiter basically,” She beamed at me. I sigh and shake my head with a smile before agreeing to go with her. She cheers and wiggles from side to side doing her little happy dance in my arms. I let my arms unwrap from around her waist. She goes to the side of the bed and lays down on it. I questioned what she was doing and her response was “watching my free show” and motions towards me and the pile of clothes.

I laugh at her silliness but do what she wants and get ready in front of her. She starts catcalling me when I start changing my clothes which I proceeded to flip her off. After that she gets up and heads to the living room to go call the girls and tell them there was a slight change in plans. I could overhear her talking to them a bit and heard her mentioning she was bringing me with her because she wanted me there because she misses me. Hiding the fact that I was the one who wanted to go because I was worried about her. 

I smiled to myself as I continued to listen to her and the girls’ conversation. They were getting on her for bringing a guy to girls’ night but she didn’t seem to care. I thought it was cute of her to cover up the reason why she was bringing me and that she was taking the blame for me. She didn’t have to but she probably didn’t want me to be embarrassed. I finished getting ready and headed out to the living room where she was. Her back was towards me as she continued conversing. I snuck behind her and wrapped my arms around her and put my head on her shoulder.

“See you soon,” I say into Kaya’s phone. I hear the girls all start talking at once and hang up the phone. Kaya turns around and looks up and down at me checking the outfit she made me wear before nodding in content.

“You look sooo good,” She pokes my stomach. I grab her hand and start dragging her the way she did to me.

“Come on, it’s time to go head over to the girls,” I tell her. She laughs and moves her arm so that our fingers are interlocked instead.

“I call passenger princess!”

Seungcheol's List

[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins: Neon

A Sequel to Avenue of Sins

SUMMARY: ‘90s. It’s the aftermath. Jaded, Bill and Alma navigate their new lives as they try to drag themselves out of the dark debacherous trenches they had once ensnared themselves in. It’s easy to forget their evils when a silver lining introduces itself into their lives but can they create a less hedonistic life that would be just as satisfying?

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

The completed first series can be read and found here.

Chapter Twenty-Three

September 1993

To make the trip worthwhile, Bill managed to book a private jet. Despite this, Alma was still annoyed that they were going back to their hometown. On the plane, she drank three glasses of champagne at seven in the morning and then slept comfortably half the way. Fortunately, it would be a short trip. They were making the necessary rounds of meeting family and hopefully avoiding townies while there.

Deep down, Bill didn’t want to come either, but he felt that was beside the point of the whole trip. However, he was glad this would be the last time he’d be back, and at least this time he wasn’t making the journey back alone. He understood Alma’s apprehension, but there was something else she just wasn’t mentioning. It bothered him, but she was bothered about the entire journey in general, and he didn’t feel like bringing it up because it would certainly cause an argument. 

They cushioned their arrival in Missouri with a stay in Kansas City rather than just heading straight to Strathburg. However, now they were on the road there, or rather, to Springfield—the largest neighboring town in southwest Missouri. 

They were only halfway there on their three-hour road trip when they stopped at some sketchy country gas station. It was the only one they’d encountered that looked the most decent out of all the ones Bill refused to pull off the highway for. Bill had his arms crossed in wait by the one-stall bathroom while Alma and Echo were in there until he could have his turn. He wasn’t trusting of the workers or the patrons inside the adjoining cigarette smoke-filled country café. It was quite obvious to the others that they weren’t from there, and that just made them easy targets. 

How he hated small-town bullshit like this. As if he wanted to be there as much as they did. They were giving him the creeps with their silent, dead stares. The vibe was stuffy as they filled the store with their uninviting energy. 

“Don’t go outside without me.” He told Alma once she exited the bathroom. “Stay close.”

“All done, papa!” Echo said, waving her washed hands in the air to which he smiled at her. 

“Yeah, okay.” She said softly, picking up Echo when she felt his uneasiness. 

Alma was heading towards the bathroom with snacks when he got out, wiping his wet hands on his jeans. He grabbed them, and she followed him to the counter to pay for gas as well. 

“Jesus,” Bill said, annoyed when he was back in the SUV rental after filling the tank. “Bunch of cousin fuckers in this town.”

“Very Texas Chainsaw Massacre here,” Alma said, munching on Cool Ranch Doritos.

Bill turned his head to look at Echo, drinking milk from a sippy cup with heavy eyes. “Good, you’re still with us. Let’s get out of here.” He said, turning the gear in drive, and feigning a disconcerting shiver. 

“You didn’t like it?” Alma asked while they were on the road. 

Bill rubbed the five o’clock shadow above his lip, contemplating. “The house?” 

“Yeah, the one I liked.” She tilted her head, looking at him.

“Hmm.” He paused in thought. He felt that it was too cookie-cutter, and it was only a three-bedroom house. It didn’t feel like a house to expand a family in. “I just think it’s too close to other houses.” 

“What? Like a neighborhood?” She said facetiously. “In New York, we literally live above and on top of people.” 

“At the penthouse, I rarely see any of my neighbors. I doubt you ever even saw them yourself the last time you were there.” 

“So you want something like this?” She said, pointing to the flat plains of nothingness they drove through. Only in the distance, cows were grazing the lands.

“Put an offer in. If you like it, it’s fine with me.” He said, a bit bored in tone. 

“I don’t.” She smirked.

Bill side-eyed her and took a deep breath. “I should have seen that coming.” He grumbled. “The other two houses we saw last week, I wish we could combine. I liked the large windows at that brick house, and the backyard was big. That house on the hill had a whole living space in the basement, an open kitchen, and more rooms.” He glanced at her so she’d get the hint. “But I don’t know, we’ll find something.” 

Alma hoped they’d find something soon because, even if it had only been a solid month of living together, just as she suspected, it was getting crowded. It didn’t help that just a few weeks ago he had purchased a computer, and the only place to put it was at the end of the dining table. She was annoyed, and Bill knew she was too. She let it be, but on their first night having family dinner with it, she sarcastically asked if she should make the computer a plate too. 

“You called your dad and confirmed that we’re coming?” Bill asked, reaching into the bag of chips in Alma’s lap. 

“You were literally next to me when I told him over the phone.”

“Just making sure. You could have been faking me out. It could have been Ulyssa on the other end, for all I know.” He chuckled as he chewed. 

“That’s so immature.” She grumbled.

“Doesn’t matter if you did or not, ‘cause I called him too.” 

“He told me. He calls me more often now.” 

“I noticed that. What does he say?” 

“He just wants to know how I am. Asks about Echo. And then he talks about his chickens a lot. He also always brings up how so-and-so had some ailment and are on their deathbed. The last time I spoke to him, it was his neighbor's dog having to be put down.”

“Only good news, I see.” 

Alma laughed lightly. “What did he say to you when you called him?” 

“Not much, he’s very short with me.” He shrugged as if to seem unbothered. 

“Mhmm. I know you think so, but he doesn’t hate you, you know?” Alma assured. “He asks about you when I talk to him. He always says that he’s glad you’re doing well.” 

He was silent for a moment before he spoke. “Does he know about Trigger Finger?” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, unconsciously. 

“No, love. You told me not to, so I haven’t. But why? Should it even matter at this point?” 

Bill took a deep breath. “It’s just too much to explain, and the club is my business. The record shop is what we’re doing at the moment, and that’s all he needs to know.” 

“Alright…” 

“I’m serious, Alma. Don’t use the club for some kind of ‘fuck you dad’ moment. I don’t want to deal with the blowback of that.” 

Alma looked at him perplexed, but he just stared ahead with his jaw ticking, focused on the road, and tense. Maybe he was feeling the loathsome feelings she was having about returning to Strathburg, and they were getting to him now. 

“Hey,” she gently said. “I won’t. I promise.” She reached over and tucked her fingers under his palm to loosen the white-knuckled grip he had on the steering wheel. 

Bill took a deep breath and nodded, surprised by his behavior just as much as she was. Between them, a promise was a promise, and he settled himself as she took hold of his hand. Just then, the exit sign for Strathburg appeared. Their gaze fell on the town as they rode right past in silence. Memories were flooding their minds. They both exchanged wary glances then. It felt as if their return would be anything but enjoyable.

~~~

They were in their suite at a budget hotel in Springfield, just forty minutes east of Strathburg. Alma sat Echo on the bed, and when she dove next to her, she nearly knocked the wind out of herself. 

“Ow!” She groaned, and she got on her knees and pushed on the very firm mattress with her hands. Almost as if she were trying to resuscitate it back to life. “It’s like a rock!” 

Bill put their luggage bags down, having had to carry them up himself. He sat on the edge, taking his black baseball cap off, and laid back and frowned. Alma was exaggerating a bit, but the mattress hardly had much give. Exhausted, he closed his eyes as he rubbed his forehead, and then he just began laughing. Laughing at this whole fucked-up situation. Maybe, he should have listened to his girlfriend.

“We spoiled ourselves,” Alma said, laughing with him. “I think I bruised myself!” 

Bill laughed even harder. “You’re probably concussed!” 

Echo was laughing along, amused, even if she couldn’t quite comprehend what had her parents in delicious stitches. 

They left the hotel after they called room service to ask for three goose feather duvets to make the mattress somewhat comfortable for themselves. They grabbed a bite to eat at a nearby sandwich joint, visited a small grocery store, and then headed west to Strathburg. 

That pit in their stomach began to sink further and further. Their plan of attack for the day was to visit Alma’s old home to collect some artifacts and then have dinner at his brother Gustaf’s. It was fairly relaxed on purpose, but they felt anything but. 

Even if Bill felt the urge to drive right past again, he merged off the exit, and the town just seemed hollow. Almost ghostly. Houses in disrepair or abandoned completely. Bill had to swerve around multiple deep potholes on the crumbing neighborhood roads. 

There was once a time when this little suburb was a nice place to live. It didn’t look as awful. People took pride in the state of the exterior of their homes, fresh paint, and nicely manicured lawns. The air in Strathburg even used to feel comforting, as there was a bread factory emanating the scent of freshly baked loaves. Now it sat defunct and dilapidated. 

“What happened?” Alma gasped. 

When she lived there a few years ago, it wasn’t in tip-top shape by any means, but this just seemed bleak. 

“Bad storm,” Bill guessed. “Tornado?” He said, pointing at a house with a sunken roof. “Not sure.”  

Shortly, Bill pulled into the empty, cracked driveway of Alma’s home. It still looked fine compared to the majority of the houses. Her block was nearly devoid of people. They had been bought out of their homes and the town by the strip mall development.  

“Someone cuts the grass?” Bill asked, noticing it was shorn and not overgrown as her neighbor's lawns were. 

“My dad comes once a month to check things out. I doubt he mows it, but he hires someone.” She said, stepping out of the SUV. 

Bill let her go ahead and let her have a moment while he got Echo out of the car. Alma swallowed the lump in her throat as she turned the house key. She entered. It was dusty and nearly empty. In her grief, she sold what she could have of the furniture in the home. It was manic, she realized in hindsight. She could swear she smelled the pine cleaning products her mother used still. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and her arms wrapped around herself in a self-soothing hug. It was home, but at the same time, it just wasn’t. It never really was. 

“You alright?” Bill asked as he opened a window in the living room to let the stale, muggy air out of the house. 

Alma took a deep breath. “Uh, yeah. Um. Most things I'd already packed to store when I was here. They’re in my old bedroom.” 

Echo took the lead as she curiously looked around the house, stopping to touch the wood paneling in the hallway. Alma directed her to the right, where she grew up laying her head at night. Her four-poster bed remained sans mattress, covered with a dusty plastic tarp, along with her small writing desk. Bill opened the window that he would always sneak into her room from and smirked. 

“Never locked.” 

Alma giggled. “I had a friendly peeping tom.” 

“I never watched you like a weirdo.” He snickered, squatting down to look at the few boxes in her room. “You got records, pictures, clothes… things.” He said digging through two open boxes. 

He picked up a photo of Alma. She was about six years old in a white frilly dress with an uncharacteristic shy smile on her face. He could see his daughter in her, but she really did look a lot more like him. There was no denying it. 

“We can go to the post office tomorrow and ship these off. I’m not trying to drag all this to the airport.” Alma said.

“Yeah, we’ll do that. We’re going to have to rent a storage room when we get back.”  

There was a framed photo of Our Lady of Guadalupe leaning against her closet door. He recognized it. Once, he had gone to her house, and her parents were away on an errand, which gave them the rare opportunity to venture out of her room. He was following her to the kitchen, where she was going to make them quesadillas to snack on, when he noticed the little shrine in the dining room. There was a wilting bouquet of assorted colored roses in a vase and prayer candles with saints he couldn’t name surrounding a little white ceramic urn wrapped with two gold rosaries. Their names were carved into wood placards, a display her father handmade in honor of them. 

Alma had noticed he wasn’t right behind her anymore, and when she found him with his hands behind his back as he inspected the altar, she felt awkward and timid about it. She hadn’t mentioned them at that point in their friendship. 

“Uhm,” Alma cleared her throat. “It’s my twin siblings. Leo and Liliana,” she said sheepishly, pointing at the altar. “They were premature.” 

Bill could tell she felt uncomfortable. “Oh…” He nodded. “Well, hi Leo and Liliana. Thanks for having me over.” He said, which made her smile before she pulled him into the kitchen.

As the memory passed, Bill finally spoke up.

“Is, uh, that…” he trailed off in thought. “Um, your brother and sister. Where are they?” He asked carefully. 

“Half their ashes were buried with my mom. My dad has the other half.” She said it matter-of-factly. “We should ship the picture back home too.” 

“Mhmm.” He said, grabbing onto a box and standing upright. 

Echo ran around the house, giggling to herself as her parents loaded the back of the SUV. It was a bit surreal to see her daughter traversing around where she had grown herself. Alma entered her bedroom again and found her digging in the last box. In her clenched hand was a photo. 

“What are you looking at, girly?” Alma asked, crouching down next to her.

She grabbed her wrist and plucked it out of her grip. It was a photo her mother had taken of Alma and Bill standing side by side on the front porch before they left for prom together. Or so that’s where her parents thought they went. Alma chuckled at the early ‘80s fashion. Her prom dress was teal with a high neck, and there was an obnoxious amount of tulle and ruffles. Bill was in a suit that probably belonged to one of his brothers. It was ill-fitted and wrinkled.

“Is that everything?” Bill asked, walking in. 

“Look at this,” Alma said, holding the photo out. “My dress? Looks ridiculous.” 

Bill smiled, looking at her in the image, but when he glanced at himself, he cringed a little. He was so skinny, he thought. “I thought it was gorgeous. What do you mean?” He smirked.

“Sure.” Alma playfully rolled her eyes. “We do have a few pictures of us from this time. I just have to go through the boxes to find them. Eventually.” She sighed, placing her hands on her hips. 

Bill left with the last box, and Alma took one last look around her old home while Echo held her hand, following. It was a small home. Only big enough for three people. She checked her parents' room. All empty, but she could envision her mother who used to have some heft, frail lying in her bed. She missed her. She wished she didn’t feel so responsible for wrecking her body. It was beyond her control, and she certainly wasn’t the cause, but she couldn’t help but feel some guilt for her existence. 

Bill found her, entranced in place again. There wasn’t much they wouldn’t talk about, but Missouri and things of their time there, they just didn’t discuss much. They felt so far removed at this point, that they felt it to be mostly irrelevant. For their sake, it was best that they began to look forward. They were starting fresh and rebuilding in Seattle, and that’s where they wished to keep focus. Being back, of course, they were forced to face it. 

“Ready?” He asked. “Or do you need a sec–”

“No...” She cleared her throat. “Let’s go.” She walked into his open arms, and he held her for a moment, rubbing her back to comfort her. 

Before leaving completely, Alma took her camera out of the car and decided to take a few pictures of Echo sitting on the porch steps of her childhood home. While Bill took a photo of them together, her old neighbor came outside to see who these strangers were messing about.

She held her hand above her brow to get a better look at them, and that’s when the adults felt her presence. 

“Hi, Mrs. Caldwell,” Alma greeted as she got up with her daughter in her arms and stood next to Bill. She grew up babysitting her sons on occasion. 

“Oh, Alma, is that you? Oh my goodness! The boys are going to be so thrilled to know that I saw you! They still talk about you,” she lightly chuckled. “And who…” She said, turning her attention to Bill. “Well, I’ll be…” she lightly gasped. “Mhmm. I used to see you sneak into that window, Billy Skarsgard.” She pointed. 

“Uh,” Bill nervously scratched the nape of his neck, as if he were finally getting reprimanded for doing that so many years ago. “Thanks for never telling.” 

“Ah well. I guess you’re welcome. Now, if her window faced those nosey Richardson's, I don't think you two would be so lucky. And you’ve got a baby too, huh?” She squinted from where she stood on the edge of her property line. “Oh, but that’s right. Your father, Antonio, told me not too long ago when he came to check on the house.” 

Alma spoke to her a bit while Bill put Echo back into her car seat. He tried to do it slowly to avoid having to join the conversation, but eventually, he just got in the driver’s seat to wait. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Alma nodded impatiently. “Mhmm. Oh, well, that’s good to hear.” 

“And he wouldn’t have done so had I not told him to, you know.” Mrs. Caldwell continued yapping. 

Bill noticed her glance behind her and shuffled her feet back. “Exactly. Well, we’re actually having dinner with family tonight, so it’s about time we head that way.” 

“Oh. Sure, I won’t hold you up.” Alma found that sentiment ironic. “I got a TV dinner calling my name.” 

Alma got back into the SUV, looking irritated as she harshly pulled her seatbelt on. “Why the hell did you leave me?” 

“She was talking too much.” He laughed. 

Once on the road, they drove around the neighborhood in silence, just listening to their daughter babbling to herself. His brother lived in his old home with his family, and Alma was worried about how he’d feel about being in that environment. He had stayed there just last year, and all he ever said was that would be the last time he’d ever do that, and he didn’t elaborate further. Alma didn’t dig because she completely understood it wasn’t so nice to go to places that held ill memories. He was tense, rubbing the side of his jaw with his knuckles, when he pulled up to the curb. 

“It’s different,” Bill sighed, but she was glad he spoke up. “It doesn’t really look as it did when there were a bunch of guys under one roof. Lorna adds a woman’s touch to the place.” 

Alma nodded. “Mhmm.” 

“We’ll be in the backyard mostly anyway.” He exited the car to open Alma’s door for her. 

Alma offered to unload their child and the baby backpack herself and let him go first on his own. He smoothed down the front of his black shirt, didn’t even bother knocking, and just walked right in. He didn’t know what possessed him to do that—maybe because that’s how he always entered his old home. Or he just wanted to avoid standing on the porch waiting for someone to answer while he stood with his nerves. 

“The hell?!” He heard from the kitchen. “Oh shit,” Gustaf said, peering out from the kitchen. “It’s my home now, you can’t knock?” The brothers hugged each other, laughing. 

“You look good, brother,” Gustaf said, patting his little brother's bicep. “And what? No Alma? Echo? Something happen?” He asked, concerned. 

Bill looked behind himself and saw them coming up the pathway through the screen door. “One second,” he said, turning on his heel to open the door for them. 

Alma walked in, and Bill took hold of their child. His old home had been finally blessed by a woman’s touch, indeed. There was a nice abstract-patterned rug, nice end tables, and a couch without deep dips caused by springs that had just simply given out. It looked lived-in, humble, and, most importantly, much cleaner than the half-assed job men called cleaning. 

Alma was greeted by Gustaf with a hug as well. He was dressed simply in a clean white shirt with a brown button down over it and wearing a gray newsboy cap.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said with a sympathetic smile, as it was their first time seeing each other since her mother’s funeral.

“Yeah. Thanks. Uhm,” she slightly stepped away to let Bill approach with their child. “This is Echo.” 

Gustaf chuckled a bit at the scene before him. It was a bit surreal to see his kid brother this way, but he was very happy to see it. He reached out for her, and Bill had to loosen her grip on his black shirt, as now she was feeling a little timid. Bill quickly explained who he was to his daughter, and while he didn’t quite know if she understood, her nervousness seemed to fade a bit. 

“Hello,” Gustaf said to her once in his arms. “You don’t think me and your dad look alike?” He playfully asked, touching her full, rosy cheek. Echo side-eyed him skeptically.

“She’s not this shy, really,” Alma assured.

“She gauges people.” Bill lightly chuckled.  

“I see.” He chuckled, just as Echo reached to touch his facial hair. 

Bill had been giving himself a clean shave since Echo startled his mustache off months ago. Seeing her touch his brother's facial hair made him want to grow his back. Especially when his brother held her hand to his cheek to help her pet it, which made her smile.

“She’s precious,” Gustaf said, returning his attention to the parents. “Good job, Alma. And, I guess, you too.” He winked at Bill. 

“Mhmm,” Bill smirked.

“Everyone’s in the backyard. She can play with the kids, and the food is almost done.” He said, leading them out, still holding his niece. However, she turned her head over his shoulder to ensure that her parents were following.

They ate burgers, and the kids had their share of hotdogs and chips. Gustaf was stepfather to Lorna’s children. The oldest is Gracie, at ten years old; Tatum, her son, at seven; and Courtland, at six. It was the little boy who Alma did a brief double take when meeting. The siblings all looked alike, as you would suspect, but his eyes were so distinct. Light blue, while his sisters were brown. Even his hair was lighter than theirs, but when meeting Lorna, she had light features and figured he took up after her. 

Echo was still being shy, opting to stay close to her parents. She was sitting in Alma’s lap, curiously watching the children kick a soccer ball around with each other. Alma set down her cup of boxed wine that Lorna had given her in an old coffee mug and brushed the baby hairs on her daughter's head down.

“Go play.” She said, pulling her daughter's thumb from her mouth. “I know you want to.” 

Echo smirked and then looked at her father for reassurance, and he winked at her with a nod.

“I go play, mama.” She said, shuffling her bottom to get down. 

Her girl cousins seemed excited that the little girl had joined, as they found her cute in the little pink romper she wore with matching pink Converse and lace ruffle socks. The little boy kicked the ball towards them, which narrowly missed Echo. Gracie, the oldest, lightly reprimanded him and told him to watch out. Which, Gustaf, said something to him and he apologized. 

The adults spoke, updating each other about their lives. The conversations split, and the women talked about current pop culture news. Lorna seemed not to be too bad. Bill didn’t really care for her much, but Alma understood his feelings. On occasion, she liked to bail for weeks at a time. Leaving his brother, Gustaf, with her kids without so much as a phone call to ask if they were okay. And when he married her, she remembered how pissed Bill was. Saying how stupid it was, and at the time, Alma agreed. However, she learned there were stupider things people would do for love.

Gustaf and Bill got up from the table and said they’d take the leftover food back inside. Alma knew they just wanted an opportunity to speak privately. Bill squeezed her shoulder and kissed her before leaving. 

“Where do you want these?” Bill asked, holding a tub of store-bought potato salad and a foil pan of charred hotdogs. 

“Just leave them on the counter.” Gustaf shrugged as he looked in the fridge for a beer. “Actually, hand me the potato salad, but you can leave the rest.”

Exchanging the tub for two beers, he twisted the caps off and handed one to his brother. Bill looked at the bottle, unfamiliar with the brand. 

“What the hell is this?” 

“Non-alcoholic.” 

“Oh, fuck. I forgot.” 

“It’s alright.” He spoke unbothered. “So,” he said, leaning on the opposite counter. “You were talking about the record shop and stuff. What about the strip club? Are you really gonna go back and forth? Or are you finally going to let the shit go?” 

“Fuck sake,” Bill grumbled. “Give me some of that,” he pointed at the boxed wine resting on the counter. 

He had expected his brother to bring this up, but he’d thought he’d segue to it with more ease. Gustaf never liked that his brother was running a fringe establishment. He just felt that Bill was too good for it, that it didn’t necessarily fit with his spirit.  

Gustaf laughed. “Just talk, man.” 

“Yeah. I’m going back and forth. The club… You know I don’t like to brag.” 

“Just talk.” He assured, taking a sip of his non-alcoholic beer. 

Bill took a sip of his too as a form of pause before speaking. “I make a shit ton of money at the club to fully let it go like that. Right now, I’m spending a lot of fucking money. It’s the shop, and we’re looking for a house right now. It’s not that we’d be without, but I have to balance my… books.” 

“Mhmm. And are you still selling?” 

Bill raised a brow at him. “I’m not selling it.” 

“Fuck, Bill! It’s just the same, no?” 

“It’s not. It’s completely different.” 

“It’s that, and then the girls sucking dick in VIP too. It’s just–”

“No, no.” Bill shook his head. “Your information is years old. That’s not how it is at all anymore. I have my business partner; she put an end to some of the shit I let slide.” 

“But it’s the morality of it all, too.”

“Really? The morality?” Bill scoffed. “I know the hang-ups people have about gentlemen's clubs. I didn’t start running it yesterday. It’s all bullshit.” 

“Okay, okay.” Gustaf raised his hand defensively. “I’m not trying to question you. I know it pisses you off. But.”

“But?” He spat.

“Will you let me talk?” Bill relaxed his shoulders and let him proceed. “I only brought it up because I was just wondering.” He paused, seemingly trying to choose his words well. “Since you’ve been in Seattle now. I noticed you’re happier, especially compared to last year. You were depressed.” 

“I wasn’t depressed.” He said it defensively. 

“You seemed very down, Bill. Just mopey. In a funk.” 

“I wasn’t depressed.” He said sharply. 

“Then what were you? Because you weren’t happy.” 

Bill was silent for a moment, his gaze down in thought. He felt himself becoming upset and swallowed hard. “I-I was fucking pissed.” He admitted. “I was fucking…” he bit his lip. “I was just so fucking angry. I don’t like myself. I had fucked my life up. I had pushed Alma away so far that she moved to the opposite coast of the country. I thought that by succeeding in that, I would have proven a point to myself. But when it did, I was so fucking sick to my stomach. It was bad. I was so bad that-that she kept my kid away…” he took in a sharp breath from his flaring nostrils and winced a bit. “And she tells me all the time. All the time,” he stressed. “That it wasn’t me. That I wasn’t the reason. But I can’t help the fucking guilt I feel.” 

“Because of… how you treated her?” Gustaf said with a sympathetic expression on his face, trying to understand. Bill nodded as he squeezed his eyes shut when they stung with tears. “But Bill…” He paused, trying to be delicate with his words. “Look. I don’t know what happened between you two, okay? Even if you explained it to me, it would only be you two who would ever understand it. But keeping Echo away… have you really forgiven her for that?” 

“Yes. Yeah.” He nodded. “It just… I know why she did it. And that’s something I can’t explain to you. It wasn’t because of me, but it just doesn’t feel good. I can’t help but feel like it was because of me.” He admitted as he scratched the side of his ear. 

“Well no. But right now, is everything okay between you?” Bill responded with a nod. “Okay…” He paused to take a sip and to let feelings simmer down. “But all that shit you said about yourself. Alma doesn’t think that. Do you think she would be here right now if she did?”

“I don’t know.” He swallowed.

“You know. You tell me you want to marry her. If you thought she’d say no, you wouldn’t even bother, would you?” 

Bill slightly smirked through a small sigh. “Yeah. No,” he said, rubbing his arm to soothe himself, feeling a bit embarrassed. He couldn’t explain himself well, and the gaps just made everything he said out loud much worse. “Sorry, bring all that up. I’m… just stressed out a little.” He peered around the kitchen and looked into the living room past the threshold. He could picture himself and Alma on the old couch as teenagers. With his arm around her as they watched what she would call, “boy movies”. “The journey here,” he continued. “Has just been making me feel fucking weird.” He admitted. “Alma did not want to come, and I didn’t either. You know, we didn’t start out so shitty. Us two. At the club, fuck,” he sighed in resignation. “We were hell. To each other, to other people.” 

“Mhmm. But that life you two had in New York, that’s not the case anymore, though. Right?” Gustaf said, hoping he was right.

“Yeah… we’re good. It’s just this place. Literally, this place,” Bill said, pointing toward the floor. He hadn’t expected the emotions he felt to bubble up, and he even felt he’d spoken irrationally. While he could speak to Alma about anything, there were just some feelings he couldn’t quite articulate to her. “How the hell do you even stand it?” 

“Shit…” Gustaf let out a huff. “Well, we’re in two different tax brackets. I got lucky that Alex fucked off to St. Louis to dodge child support, so I could have at it.” 

Bill scratched his head, feeling a little remorseful for even complaining about his bullshit. It felt like he was lamenting champagne problems in comparison. 

“Don’t look like that.” His brother rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. “It is what it is. One of us had to break out of this shit. Sometimes… I think we’re just cursed.” He paused in thought, rubbing his mouth, looking a bit tense. “Look, I know you saw Tate out there.” He gestured.

“Yeah?” Bill questioned because the change of subject felt so off.

“I noticed that Alma noticed him. And if I don’t tell you, she’s going to mention her speculation. Honestly, I’m surprised you never noticed something the last time you were here. But you also seemed to be too focused on leaving as fast as you could then.” 

Bill thought he stood out then, but at that time, kids just weren’t interesting enough for him to want to investigate. In fairness, he still had the same sentiment, but his daughter was excluded from that. 

“What is it?” 

“He’s Alex’s kid. He’s our nephew.” 

Bill’s brows pulled together as he stood there silently as if there were a punchline coming. “For real?” 

“Well, at least one of however many he has, but yeah.”

“You knew the whole time? Or?” 

“I met the kids, maybe six months in. And well, when I met him… I just knew. I heard stuff about Lorna, but yeah, Alex got to her.” 

“But the little girl?” 

“Her ex-husbands.” He pursed his lips.

“So. She cheated,” Bill hushed.

Gustaf grimaced a bit because he didn’t like that aspect of the situation. “Mhmm.” 

“Damn... I-I don’t know what to say?” He bit his lip.

“I know you’re not her biggest fan, but the kids are innocent in all of it. They all are. I love her.” He shrugged. “And at the very least, you know she’s family too. And he’s family.” 

Bill almost scoffed, but he diverted it into clearing his throat. “Okay.” He nodded. “Yeah. So we're both just fucked up.” 

“Not me! I’m the most virtuous.” He said, making Bill laugh. 

Fireflies began to emerge on the shadowed edges of the yard as the women watched the children play during the sunset. Echo was hugging the soccer ball and ran it over to Courtland since she didn’t feel like her kicks gave enough power to drive the ball across the grass.

“Could I take some pictures of them?” Alma asked, picking up her camera from the center of the table. 

“Oh, sure. That’s a really nice camera. You do the concert photography, right?” Lorna asked, following her, treading barefoot. She was wearing a buttoned-up jean vest and matching jeans. 

“Yeah.” Alma nodded. “Oh, you all just keep playing,” she said when she noticed the children gathering. “Makes for better pictures.” She winked at Gracie, who looked the most intrigued.

Alma crouched down and took snapshots of the kids. She was framing them and zooming in on others. In the viewfinder, she had Tatum in the frame and took a shot of him amid laughter. She paused momentarily, pretending to fiddle with settings on her camera, as Lorna was next to her. His dimples, gap-tooth smile, and the way his ocean blue eyes squinted. It just felt eerie. Soon, Gracie slowly made her way next to Alma, watching her take photos. 

“I have my instant film camera,” she said, standing upright. “Do you want to take a few pictures with that?” 

Gracie smiled excitedly. “Please?” 

“Of course.” 

They walked back to the table where the Polaroid sat, and Alma showed her what button to press while taking a photo of Gracie with it. The women sat down, and when Alma passed the camera to her, Gracie nervously let it slip from her hands. 

“Damn it, Gracie!” Lorna scolded.

“I’m sorry,” Gracie said regretfully as she quickly picked it up. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Alma assured her. 

“Here you go. I’m sorry,” Gracie said, trying to wipe dirt and blades of grass from it as she tried to pass the camera back. 

“Take a picture of me,” Alma asked her. “It’ll work fine. It’s alright.” She encouraged. 

Gracie sheepishly held the camera to her face, and Alma could still sense her trepidation. 

“Should I pose?” She asked playfully. “Maybe like this?” She placed a flat hand under her chin, crossed her eyes, and stuck her tongue out to the side. 

Gracie snapped a photo as she giggled. The film ejected from the camera, and the girl excitedly pulled it out. 

“See! It still works fine. You’re supposed to leave these alone to develop instead of shaking them. But that's boring, isn't it? You can leave this though, so you can go take photos out there,” she nodded toward the yard. 

“Sorry about that,” Lorna said, taking a sip of her wine. “She’s a bit clumsy. You’re really good with kids.” She had to admit.

“Eh?” Alma lightly shrugged. “I just have a lot of experience serving drunks.” 

Lorna laughed. “Right! You bartended at the strip club.”

“Yeah.” Alma nodded, silently hoping the kids weren’t overhearing. “And I bar-backed for a time in St. Louis before I moved to New York.” 

“Oh, so you’ve always liked the nightlife, then.” 

“Mm. I guess it calls to me. Like a big neon sign beckoning me.” She lightly laughed.

“I guess I can figure that you didn’t mind that your boyfriend worked in a place like that? I don’t think I could handle that shit. Wandering eyes on tons of boobs, you know.” 

“Uhm,” Alma tilted her head. She didn’t feel up for where this conversation could lead, so she just chose to lean into humor. “I mean, I looked too.”

Lorna laughed. “Well, how could you not? I suppose it’s also never boring.” 

“Definitely not.” Alma raised her brows. 

Lorna noticed that Alma didn’t seem all too interested in talking about the club. She was sure she'd heard and received a lot of questions about her old profession. She’s heard Gustaf speak about a few of their funny club stories, but to her, it just sounded like two 20-somethings who just refused to grow up. However, seeing them together for the first time, they seemed so removed from her perceived interpretation of them. In a way, she found them to be a little snobbish, but she was just feeling insecure. Seeing Alma’s nice clothes and her jewelry kind of made her shrink. Even from what she knew about the cushier life that Bill provided, it made her a bit envious. There was a small, nagging voice in the back of her subconscious telling her she may have chosen the wrong brother, but she internally shushed it away. Gustaf was a good man, but he was also the safe choice. 

Shortly, her husband and Bill had finally emerged from the house with unlit cigarettes perched between their lips, talking out the sides of their mouths, and chuckling. Bill noticed Alma looking past Lorna as she spoke at the rain clouds moving in on the town, then focusing back on what she was saying and laughing politely. He could tell she was a little bored.

“Looks like you two brought the rain,” Gustaf said, taking a seat next to Lorna and lighting his cigarette. 

As Bill lit his, he noticed a corner of the table covered with Polaroids of random shots. The grass and children's legs were off-center in the frame, along with a photo of the blue sky, a washed-out photo, and a photo of his daughter holding the soccer ball, but it was out of focus. Alma explained that she let the kids play with the camera, but he could tell. He pointed at the silly photo of Alma and she just smirked. The adults spoke a bit more as they played a card game. However, it was Bill and Alma answering their curious questions about Seattle. Soon Echo came walking over, tiredly rubbing her eyes, looking a bit pouty. 

“You tired?” Bill asked her, laying his hand of cards down.

“No,” Echo said stubbornly, but her little arms reached for him to be picked up. 

He gladly picked her up and sat her facing forward on his lap. Her face was covered with random streaks of dirt, which he tried to rub away with a lightly used napkin. It helped, but her cheeks remained stained. She yawned loudly and then rested along his torso. 

Adults began to wrap up their game and conversation as the heavy clouds were advancing upon them and threatening to unleash rain. They were inside, inching out the front door after thanking Gustaf and Lorna for having them and saying their obligatory, 'see you later’ both knowing there wouldn’t be one. They hoped that they’d consider visiting them in Washington after telling them all about it. 

“Wait a second,” Gustaf said, walking into the dining room and grabbing a shoebox from the top of a dish cabinet. “Uhm, Bill told me about your photography, and I gathered some old pictures I could find of him.” He said, passing the box to Alma.

“What?” Bill said, but he was ignored. 

“It’s just that I’m sure you’ll know how to take care of them. So Echo could see them someday too.” 

“Oh. Thank you,” Alma smiled at him appreciatively. 

Gustaf thought she’d take a look inside, but she just tucked the box under her arm and saw her and Bill exchange a look only they could decipher. Alma would leave it up to Bill to open it whenever he felt ready to. Bill could imagine the few photos that existed inside the shoebox, as he had seen them long ago, but he didn’t feel the need to reminisce at this point in his life.

As they drove on the highway back to the hotel in Springfield, the rain was coming down. It wasn’t a harsh rain but rather a nice, fresh summer shower. Maybe one of the last before the cold fall showers to come. It felt comforting to Bill, and if he were alone, it would be nice to cruise in it. Meanwhile, Alma had her thighs tightly pressed together, feeling as if her bladder might explode. She had been holding her pee much too long, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask to use the bathroom. She didn’t feel comfortable being inside Bill’s old home alone. Even if she asked him to accompany her, she felt like it would just look like an excuse for them to debrief or talk shit in the bathroom. The precipitation wasn’t helping her situation. 

"Oh, my god. Are we almost there?” She anxiously rubbed her forehead. 

Bill glanced at her. “What’s wrong?” 

“I have to pee.” She closed her eyes to distract herself, but the pitter-patter of the rain dinging on the body of the SUV was preventing it. 

Bill wanted to ask her why the hell didn’t she go at the house, but he knew it would be useless. If he felt uncomfortable there, certainly she did too. “One more exit.” He ultimately told her. 

Bill entered the hotel room with Echo in his arms, asleep, and draped with one of his light jackets to protect her from the rain. The bathroom door was closed when he walked past it. He had dropped Alma off at the entrance, and she jogged back to the room alone to relieve herself. Bill had changed Echo as she whined, but she settled once dressed in her pajamas and warmly tucked into bed. The sound of the shower being turned on caught his attention while he tried to gently wipe his daughter's stained face with a baby wipe as she slept. 

He turned his head towards the closed bathroom door, and then he noticed Alma’s luggage was open and rummaged through in haste.

He got up and lightly tapped the bathroom door. “Alma?” 

“Yeah?” 

He turned the knob and entered. Her back was turned towards him as she washed her hair in the shower. He started to take his clothes off without a thought, just instinct. As he did so, he noticed Alma’s panties by the sink. They were cold and wet. 

“Did you piss yourself?” He lightly chuckled. 

She turned her head, wringing out the last remnants of shampoo suds from her hair. “No,” she rolled her eyes at him as they spoke through the bathroom mirror's reflection. “I started my period, too.” 

“Oh.” He raised his brows. 

“Such bullshit!” She grumbled with irritation. 

She had debated on whether she should skip the placebos in her birth control pack and start a new one, especially since she’d be traveling, but she chose not to. After every one of his visits she’d make sure she was still having one, and this last month she needed to know for sure. Admittedly, she had a bit of paranoia over it. They hadn’t had a serious discussion about expanding their family yet, but there was just so much going on, falling pregnant just did not seem ideal at this point.

“Mhmm,” he said, stepping into the shower and wrapping his arms around her. 

…

They were in bed with heavy eyes, feeling much better as they both helped release some tension in their bodies. They both assumed it would be a rather sexless trip, as there wouldn’t be any semblance of privacy between them. Even if they couldn’t drag it out as they would like, Bill just wanted to be close to her, even if for a short time. 

Alma shifted some to get comfortable on the firm mattress and held onto his hand since Echo was between them. She looked up at him, still leaning against the headboard, seemingly looking tired as he watched late-night TV. 

His chest rose as he took a deep breath. “I’ll turn it down some.” He said, feeling her gaze on him. 

“Mm. It’s fine.” She said, as the TV was already at a low volume because of Echo. “Are you… fine?” She asked carefully because, of course, they were both feeling not too great, being in Missouri. They wouldn’t be fine until they left. 

Bill peered down at her in thought. “Yeah. It’s just Gustaf told me something today that was a little, eh.” He said lightly, grimacing and tugging at his ear uncomfortably.

“Like?” 

Bill paused, with an almost amused yet incredulous look on his face. “You noticed the boy, right? Tatum?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“He doesn’t look familiar? He’s my nephew. Blood related through Alex.” 

“No fucking way!” She said, in a harsh whisper, in disbelief. “His eyes!” 

“Just like his,” Bill nodded in agreement. 

“Well. Explain to me what he said.” She said eagerly.

Bill told her just as Gustaf laid it down to him in the kitchen, and was left scratching her head about it too. She also found it odd that Gustaf had somehow gotten the short end of the stick concerning women. However, even if Lorna behaved the way she did, she was also one of the better picks in town worth putting up with. 

“It’s whatever, I suppose,” Bill resigned. “But on the drive, I was thinking that if they have a kid… like we might be trash but not hillbilly trash!” 

Alma put her hand to her mouth to keep her laughter at bay. “Oh god. I don’t think that’s something to worry about,” she chuckled. “She told me she got her tubes tied.” 

“The smartest thing she’s ever done,” Bill chuckled. “Why the hell did she bring that up?” 

“Eh, just did when we were talking,” Alma said dismissively. “Girl shit. But wow. Strathburg is way too small!” She yawned. 

“Sleep,” he said, pulling the blanket up to her shoulder and taking hold of her hand underneath the covers. “We’re seeing your dad tomorrow,” he playfully taunted. 

“Yeah. Luckily, the only cousins Echo has there are chickens.”

[scaryspears]

I love 2013 Carrie

I have a few thoughts on the 2013 Carrie. I understand the dislike for 2013 Carrie, but I don't at the same time. To be fair, I was at least 8 years old when I saw the film and I had no clue that it was a book first and had 2 movies before it, but I loved the hell out of that film.

I remember the rage and relatability I felt with her character. Granted, it wasn't until secondary school that I was harshly bullied, but I still went through isolation and being berated for things that no one should've cared that much about (P.E, ect.).

Now to the films: In the 1976 and 2002 version, the prom massacre is presented in a way where Carrie loses her mind, the '76 (Spacek) seemingly hallucinating. 2013 everyone is actually laughing at her and Carrie consciously offs them. I'm not saying they deserved it but rent was due. As Shang Tsung would say, how deliciously cold blooded.

I remember finding out that people hated the 2013 version and being confused until I found out why. She wasn't accurate. Chloe Grace Moretz is very pretty, and she was a very pretty teenager (sorry if that sounds creepy). With the new found knowledge that I acquired it was hard to accept her as Carrie even though my 8 year old self had already accepted her.

According to Carrie | Anatomy of a Franchise (a youtube video), from what I remember Moretz wanted the role because of her sexuality, and that sense of being 'othered' from the people around her. Although I am not queer, I can understand this feeling of otherness. I showed that a person didn't have to be what society views as ugly to see themselves in Carrie, there could be anything about you and Carrie as a character could spark a mirror.

Looking back at the previous movies I can see why Moretz's version is not appealing to many people. Appearance aside, there was another thing wrong that I didn't realise until James A. Janisse pointed it out on his kill count. A normal girl acting like an outcast. Moretz didn't have Spacek's timidness or Bettis' shaking behaviour, nor did they attempt to make her look strange (dark circles under eyes, ect.). But the more I thought about it the more I came to my own conclusion.

At this point anyone can be Carrie, even though that's very far fetched. Hell, I would play Carrie if I was given the chance. I haven't read the book, yet, but I know Carrie's features. Some of them at least. She is plus sized/chubby, has pimples and bad skin. Sounds like me, except I lost some weight (according to my mum), and I wasn't really chubby. But my skin did occasionally go bad (my lips going monstrously dry and scabby during winter) and I have dandruff. My dandruff would build up and a bunch of tiny pieces would fall whenever I scratched my head, and get stuck under my fingernails. I would rarely cut my nails unless they chipped off by themselves somehow. I had bags under my eyes from lack of sleep. I still have pimples on my forehead.

I'm also a 19 year old (currently) who's been told that they look like 15 and have been confused for a 15 year old. I'm certain I could play teenager Carrie.

I know that's too much information and that it means that there was something wrong with me, in the sense that I wasn't taking good care of myself and may have been dealing with something mentally.

Why does this matter? Both Spacek and Bettis were past their early 20's unlike Moretz who was 15. Spacek and Bettis' appearance was nothing like the book's description of Carrie. Both are very skinny, with Bettis especially having sunken cheeks. But with this in mind it could imply that their movie versions were not very well fed, thus either highlighting the abuse from the hands of Margaret White or their low class background.

Ugly or not, odd or not, a person is still going to be targeted and othered. Spacek's Carrie is very beautiful, but she felt like a ghost in the mystical sense. Just there and seemingly existing, but being unfortunately disturbed by the ever so rude living humans. If you look at Spacek as an actress it would be hard to believe that she is Carrie.

The result of writing this: Something can be done and seen with any Carrie, no matter who she is.

I love 2013's Carrie. Another thing I really admire is the scene where Tommy asks Carrie out to the prom. It could be that cold tone that every 2010s horror movie had at the time, but it truly captured how unsafe and suspicious Carrie felt and how suspicious Tommy seemed. Tommy sort of had good intent, but he was being creepy with how persistent he was being. Something that isn't realised in the '76 film, considering consent wasn't much of a thing back then (major yikes). It was nothing sexual, but no means no and he kept dismissing that. Dude showed up to Carrie's house and everything. Also, he cheated on Sue with Carrie. Why aren't people irked?

[observeowl]

Hidden Identity S.J

Scarlett Johansson x reader

Summary: R saves the day and prevent her identity from leaking during comic con

Second POV You and your wife, Scarlett, have kept the relationship a secret for a really long time. Partially also because of your long departure so both of you were hardly captured together, but also because you and Scarlett have chosen very carefully who to tell your relationship. Other than both your parents and a handful of friends, there were hardly anyone who knew.

You were in the special force in the army specialising in terrorist group. Some may think that there aren't a lot of terrorist attack happening each year but a lot actually don't get published to the public or it will cause a lot of distress.

Your Captain received a tip that a terrorist group had hacked into government army database and was planning to release a bunch of information of military personnel. Naturally, their target venue was the Marvel table at Comic Con where there would already be a lot of people taking videos. Of course this wasn't the best thing to happen, the main point was to remain hidden and undetected. You can't have people recognising you and compromising the mission you were doing.

On the surface level, no one would know who you were. Every mission, you would wear a mask and only your eyes were visible. Unfortunately for you, despite your mentor telling you not to leave a mark, you couldn't help but wink before eliminating your target. You can't remember the amount of times you get reprimanded for it and having to do laps around the base.

"Everyone is in position, Captain." You relayed the information since you were the Vice-captain. Your team and you were laying in the vents. Kinda ironic to be doing simultaneously with the Marvel Table but it had to be done. There were way too many people on the ground and from above, you're able to get a bird's eye view of everything.

So far everything was clear. Things were going smoothly, no sign of the target and the actors and actresses were answering questions without knowing anything.

You knew since early in the morning that you were going to be in the same space with your wife but you didn't tell her. Freaking her out about her safety and risking raising the suspicions of the target was the last thing you wanted to happen. You knew you weren't going to let anything happen to her.

As they were answering some questions, the projector suddenly turned on. The room went quiet thinking it was some trick from Marvel before raising their voice again when they saw several masked men and women in their uniforms sitting together getting interviewed.

The man behind the camera started asking questions like "What is your code name?"

And their answers were: Psycho Killer, Frenzy, Gunslinger and Bounty Hunter. Once your team's code name was announced, your Captain gave everyone the go to drop out of the vents with wire hanging from your waist. Even though the sound in the video was muffled due to voice alteration, they can see everyone's tattoos and our arms as we were holding our guns.

"I don't care how or who I kill. If I get told to kill, I do it." // "Around 250 and still counting." // "When I'm taunting the person I'm killing I wait for them to spot me. I wink and if I'm in a building and they run, I do a flip and chase them before killing them."

Answers started rapid firing as the video started zapping answer after answer. The background was CCTV footage of your team doing exactly what was said and other missions too.

Then they started revealing the category of spouse in the team. Everyone's face with masks on were on the screen and those that have partners, their names were shown on the screen. You quickly located the projector and shot it down just as it got to your name, showing Scarl-

You breathed a sigh of relief as you managed to protect her name from getting out before turning and glaring at the terrorist you had ID. He looked up like everyone one else at the sound of the gunshot and you winked at them so they started bolting off. You unbuckled your wire and did a flip before landing.

We chased after them and ran past the table of cast who had moved back to safety. Forgetting about the mic, we went towards Scarlett and gave her a quick kiss. "Why aren't you going after them?" She asked.

"He's just a little ant, I can chase after him anytime. Let them think they got away with it then I'll catch them." After making sure she was fine, you ran off when you heard another gunshot afar.

You parkoured and climbed back into the vent. Due to the interruption, the interview ended there as the security deemed it to be too risky for it to continue. Back when they were in the green room, Elizabeth was asking who was the one who approached her but she didn't give a reply. They were talking amongst themselves while trying to figure out on the internet what happened when the topic circled back to her again.

"Both of you looked so intimate with each other." Robert stated.

"Yeah, are you sure you don't know who that person was?" Anthony continued to pressure.

"She's my-" Before she was able to complete her sentence, you walked back into the room and nodded towards the door for her to leave and the boys got all protective and tried to stop her from leaving as Chris and Robert were walking towards you.

You smirked at them even though they were unable to see and due to your mask. Once Chris's hand landed on your shoulder, you took his arm and flipped him on his back, making everyone wide-eyed. Scarlett was shocked and ran over and pushed you away to stop anything else from happening and stood in front to introduce you.

You didn't give her a chance to finish her sentence before lifting her up and placing her on your shoulder without saying anything. With one foot out of the door, you turned behind and gave a wink before leaving them stunned.

[legionofpotatoes]

Hello! I just saw your new Blasto poster and it's v good! I was wondering if you would give a quick rundown of your "process"? I love the style, and I'm trying to get back into digital art, so I think it might benefit me and several others. :-)

Hi there, thanks for waiting! I went ahead and cleared this with Bioware so I could answer your question with some in-depth references from our actual process. So I hope this ends up useful both technically and in terms of approach. And not too much of an overkill!

It's tricky to speak of the process here by starting at style, because the initial pitch was quite varied and it could have really gone anywhere. Ultimately what dictates the most high-level building blocks in something like this is layout and color, and choosing those are essential steps in focusing up the concept and eventually informing the style part as well.

I mention this because that pipeline illustrates a key difference between client work and personal work. I could start with style if this was my passion project, but I had to stay loose to Bioware's pitch and conform to the our iterative process (despite them knowing my work well and even providing very clear north star from my own work as a target).

So, when the idea isn't yours, but you are told to play to your strengths, how do you interpret a pitch to design a mock movie poster for Blasto? My approach: look at the raw pitch and your vision as two ingredients in a soup. And then bust out a number of sketches that each contain different dosages of those ingredients. One will be super close to reference and play to your established work, one will be as literal a translation of the pitch as possible, one will be a loose mix of the two that organically tows that line, etc.

The pitch was for Blasto to have a dirty-harry-style spy movie poster that would feature the infamous tagline without walloping into obscene territory. The reference was my fan poster for Boba Fett. So I came up with these:

Immediately from the reference I understood what they had in mind; the "tentacle gun tornado" variant came first as a safe bet for a target. Then I went ahead and looked at old spy thriller posters and came up with #2; no loose plot details, just tropes and visual flair from that illustrated poster era. You can tell how different the style would end up being if we'd gone down that route. And then I had a bunch of variations on #3, which by-and-large all involved Blasto in action and a larger framing device shrouding a villain character. That was also in-line with my earlier work but communicated that detective story feel stronger.

I tried not to shoehorn the humor here; playing it straight felt funnier. It's a fucking jellyfish there cocking a gun with two tentacles. You can't crank the knob on that any further. And technically speaking, these weren't ultra-polished thumbnails. I don't push fidelity in my work anyway, but since I like to communicate depth, strong silhouettes, and tight composition, I tried to hit those targets with loose grayscale values and call it a day. Thumbnailing is its own goal-oriented task.

The tools I use here are just basic brushes and flats, with some semblance of a sketchy line layer. Again, no technical craft, but hints at what strengths we'll squeeze out of the layout. Which as I mentioned in the beginning is primary building block #1.

So naturally once we chose an option it was time to get to #2; colors. I did a second pass at the sketch, brought everything out into rough lines, enriched the dynamism with more implied details and quickly blocked it in with colors that I then spent a very, very long time alternating into palettes.

Picking a color palette and sticking to it early on is one of my personal unwritten rules and it's a nice feather in the cap when managing client expectations during the concepting phase. I looked at those same old posters, then some contemporaries, then my own reference points, and pulled all sorts of wacky color combos until I whittled them down to six I really thought would work well for the target. I took care to maintain a sense of depth in values, since this was a center-stage character-action focused piece. And yes, I think this is a good place to start being deliberate with that, and not to go all wishy-washy until the broad strokes are locked in. You can always play with accent pops afterwards, but fundamentals are fundamentals and their service to your thumbnails is invaluable.

Of course, if that was just me, I would have a style and even a color target set much much earlier. But exercises like these are still good to do mid-process; challenge your own vision, discover new ideas, maybe even a trick you can migrate over. It also helps you see a roughly rounded version of what the finished thing will look like; and that's always extra gas in the tank. This is why I always evangelize iterative-holistic processes instead of linear ones; it's exciting to see layout and colors working together into a cohesive, unique thumbnail, even if it's a simplistic doodle. It motivates you to finish the thing. By comparison, spending a day hyper-rendering a leg then zooming out and seeing nothing but that leg is, unsurprisingly, deflating.

Anyway, we went with #2, and that basically meant Boba Fett but make it Blasto. And I was just fine with that :D from there, the process becomes simple; it's a sprint to final that involves as many flexible and mutable parts as you can muster. You have to stay nimble and ready to incorporate comments on very fundamental levels, so you use lots of layers, and you make very deliberate choices in order to serve the high-level goals.

Here is where the "style" of it comes into play as I try to wrangle legibility and effective framing out of the thumb. I use depth-softened colors in linework and spend time building up the main characters so they have that organic pop when the eye wanders over them. It was fun gathering reference for all the iconic guns and designing the asari out of scraps of Blasto lore (and don't even get me started on the hoopla I raised about determining the correct amount of hanar tentacles).

Illium, in terms of visual priority, is a backdrop; a forest of texture, so I use very little lines and mostly focus on breaking up the various "plates" to create, again, a sense of depth. It's vector-based shapes all the way here, dotted with lights representing windows and skycars, softened in values near their base, arranged to fit most of the other elements around them. They also create a nice symbolic "fence" that Blasto rises above of, as if the city itself is the corruption that only he is uniquely equipped to fight. This was all semiotic nonsense that came to me in the process, but was still super informed by the original layout.

And then you just add in all the details and ideas without violating those basic rules of color depth and clean composition that were promised to the client by the very first sketch. All those things like planets and stars and fumes end up being glorified framing devices for centering the focus on our heroes, adhering to some internal math of element relation and action lines, and helping guide the viewer to what matters most and not overwhelm them with visual noise. I don't know how exactly to coach this, but references and study help a LOT.

Ultimately it's that exercise in restraint and concerted effort that ends up becoming a "style", and is subsequently super rewarding because the thing then is both effective and representative of your initial pitch. Style is very seldom the starting point; it's the product of tricks and quirks and discipline that you pick up throughout years of doing this. It's boring and obvious, but yes.

Just start and keep drawing to build those tricks up and be holistic in your approach and challenge your instincts and study contemporaries and iterate and iterate and iterate. Trust me, it's so worth it.

You might even get Blasto to tell you he loves your work.

[chaos-and-recover]

I had a few mutual friends sending me pictures of her fb, and having seen her fb through their fb I can see now that even when I was a friend on fb she was blocking me from seeing her posts and info - and it did say that she's been in a relationship not just a friendship with her now husband for years, so I don't see how she can be upset I don't know that stuff when she prevents me from seeing it. (Cont)

My grandparents, uncle and aunt, and my mom were so pissed off that they started proceedings to sue her in small claims court for all the money we all lost going to the wedding. My cousins and siblings are also pissed. Anyway this happened three months ago. So my parents just found out the judge refused to hear our case for whatever reason and we have all been given a Do Not Contact order, which said a bunch of stuff about stalking, harassment, and bullying. (Cont) So my parents just found out the judge refused to hear our case for whatever reason and we have all been given a Do Not Contact order, which said a bunch of stuff about stalking, harassment, and bullying. On top of that our mutual friends have all told me that she gave them an ultimatum to either stop being my friend (because she somehow found out they were showing me stuff) or they'd be blocked and they decided to block me because she made them which my family says is proof that she's (cont) controlling. My family is planning to fight to Do Not Contact order in court, which I kinda understand because that really hurts. However I'm sitting here thinking that they kinda are escalating things to a point I am uncomfortable with. And the past three months I've really been thinking about everything that's been said to me. However a part of me is like why should I trust her when every time I see her there's been drama (cont) and she's been really rude to my family when they've called her out on past behavior that she insists are lies, but why should I trust her when I barely know her, instead of my family who has always supported me and gone to bat for me and had my back and given me a good life? How can I tell if she's the one gaslighting us or if we are gaslighting her? How can I tell the difference between a "family scapegoat" and "a liar who is reacting to being called out on toxic behavior." (Cont)

It's really difficult and idk if my friends would be able to give the right advice bc they don't really know everything and I haven't really ever talked about my cousin to them ever because like I said I only ever saw her at family events. Sorry for this rant idk, maybe you or your followers can help? Sorry it took so long but tumblr made me take a break from asks.

I imagine the judge refused to hear the suit because they were trying to sue for costs they were never asked to incur for a wedding they were not invited to. She's not responsible for that.

And yeah I'm sure having a no contact order is a blow to their egos but if they hate her so much and she is so toxic, why are they so insistent that they should be allowed to continue to contact her? I think if everyone just backs off and leaves each other alone you'd all be in a much happier situation. If she really IS the toxic and abusive one, and your family respects the no contact order, then she's effectively out of your lives, and that should be a good thing. But if it's your family being toxic, then they've now lost access to their target, and their reaction makes a whole lot more sense.

I get that it's hard to see people who have always loved and supported you as toxic or abusive but they really truly do sound like they are being abusive in this situation.

If there's drama every time you see her, who starts the drama? The last wedding sounds like it was messy on all fronts with everyone being drunk, but what about the other times? What specific toxic behaviour is she being called out on? Cutting off people who treat you badly is not toxic, and not playing nice with people who treat you badly is not abusive. Can your family give you examples of what she's actually done that's so horrible? Is it that she didn't tell anyone about her relationship and kept her FB settings fairly tightly locked down? If I had family constantly asking me if my friends still put up with me or saying that I'm single because I'm unlovable, I would also not be exceptionally forthcoming with a lot of personal information that they could use as ammunition and I certainly wouldn't give them a chance to get to the person I was in a relationship with.

One of my followers commented on the last batch of asks suggesting spending time with another family, like a friend's family, to get a feel for their dynamics and I think that's a great idea. I think the fact that you're reaching out for advice means there's at least part of you that understands something is off here, and that's a good sign. Getting outside perspective is helpful (I hope these responses help) and getting a feel for other family dynamics can also help you see that most people do not act like this.

Either way I think you should leave this woman alone, honestly.