#and now they want me to dive back in?????
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the-kr8tor · 3 days ago
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A Pearl
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Siren! Reader
Word count: 6.1k
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing and siren traits), pirate AU, Siren AU, CW blood, TW death, CW eating human flesh, CW injury, CW food mentions, CW alcohol mention, Pirate captain! Hobie, a touch of hurt/comfort, Fluff!
Requested by @brokeaesthetic — Hello, this is my first time sending a request to you. Hopefully this is a good one to request for my first time. Okay, hear me out Sea clay & Epsom salt in a heart-shaped bottle❣️. Okay, so reader is a siren and Hobie is a pirate. And for many years reader has lured sailors, pirates and fishermen to a watery grave. But one day, when a pirate ship sails into her territory, she prepares herself about to lure them in until she sees Hobie and she's immediately infatuated. She stalks the ship for a couple days before hobie notices. Like something falls overboard, and she throws it back up. He thinks She probably wants something so she he throws down something shiny for her to keep. But she takes that as flirting(she has a huge crush now). So when one day the ship is attacked and Hobie falls overboard, she saves him. And then he develops feelings blah blah blah. I actually wanna draw this😭😭
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Your siren song echoes throughout the fog-covered sea. Together with your kind, you lure seafarers into their watery graves with your angelic voice that pushes them into a haze until their bodies splash overboard. With each tone you sang, more bodies hit the cold depths below. As the fog dissipates, so is your cover. Diving below before the survivors catch wind of what transpired, you swim towards the nearest drowning sailor.
Bubbles rise up from his lips, and you swim faster towards your meal. Another siren comes your way, and you have to hiss and bare your sharp teeth at her so you'd get your food. As she tries to fight back with her own growl, you smack her away with your tail, fighting for what's yours. With a yelp from the other siren, you don't waste time sinking your teeth into their fleshy neck.
Warm crimson flows from their skin, body thrashing against your own but your sharp nails dig further and further into their body as you eat your fill. Suddenly, their eyes turn the shade of seafoam, and his body is still. You open your maw and you bite into him.
This has been your life ever since your kind was forced to flee into the deep waters of the sea. Food is scarce, fish and birds shy away from the small rocky islands you've called home so you're forced to eat naive sailors rather than starve.
As you leave the cold waters and into dry land, your tail ebbs away to make way for a pair of legs. Shaking off the salty water, you head into your cave, hands wiping away all the blood and guts from your lips. Your home is small, cozy and away from the others. You keep tiny trinkets picked up from the waves, some you've taken from unlucky sailors. The wind chime you've made yourself that's filled to the brim with shiny human things twinkle in the night. The sound helps you sleep, the various knick knacks are the only things that keeps you going. It's survival of the fittest out in the open ocean, especially when you're being hunted down to extinction.
As you lay your head to sleep, you dream of better things where you don't have to hide amidst the rocks and the salty waves.
A loud rambunctious commotion wakes you up in the middle of the day. Their loud cheering can be heard from far away out into the sea. With bleary eyes, you blink at the odd ship, its red sails earning a curious tilt from your head.
You're still full from your last meal, there's no fog to hide you if you so desire to lure them. And surely you can't go back to sleep now that you're fully entranced by the hooting and hollering out in day break. Usually seafarers are quiet around these parts, only the eerie songs about the lingering death hidden beneath the waves are sung on deck can be heard at any hour of the day.
So with a curious raise of your brow, you head back into the sea. It's against better judgement, and you're in danger of getting caught or worse if you're ever found, but if you're careful enough, you'll find out more about humans than anyone in your kind has ever known about. Maybe you'll learn their tongue too.
Racing against the tides, you make it to their ship in quick time. You raise your head above water, enough to take a peek and listen in on their conversation.
“I told you our captain can do it!” An excited voice exclaims. “Three fucking cheers for the crimson spider!”
A roaring cheer echoes out, and it has you more curious than ever at who this captain could be. You spot the anchor dangling just above the water, so with a determined huff, and with curiosity fueling you, you head towards it to climb the ropes holding it up.
Your tail soon turns into a pair of legs, and you climb faster and quieter up on the rough rope. Finally making it above, just below the deck and still hidden from everyone's view, you see a whole crew of pirates dancing and drinking on the deck. Their laughter warms your chest, and their jolly music has you smiling at their human celebration. Whatever it may be.
“C’mon, lads, it was nothin' special.” Someone says, the crew surrounds him, all grinning at the man.
“Nothing special?!” The one with a sloshing cup full of wine says. “You blasted the fucking admiral to smithereens!”
“Ned's right, Hobie, they're going to need a bloody shovel just to scrape him off the floor.” Another happily says, clasping what you surmise is the titular captain. “If it weren't for you, James and I would've died. Not to mention the new crew managing to not piss themselves while getting us all out.” The raven haired woman smiles, nudging him and toasting her cup against his own. “You did good, cap’n.”
“Right, stop inflatin’ my ego.” Hobie, you think that's the captain's name, shakes his head with a smile. He's handsome you think, hands painted with ink that reminds you of sea life, and a face that looks chiseled by the goddess of the sea herself. You've never seen a pirate not quite like him. His smile single handedly brightens up the already merry ship, and instead of toning down the festivities, it loudly continues on. “We still have shit to do!”
“No we don't!” A blonde girl exclaims as she dances with another crew member as music plays.
A bout of laughter follows, and Hobie surrenders and joins in on the party after giving the sea a glance over. He's probably on the lookout for danger while everyone is too busy partying. He's not just handsome too, but also smart and practical as he secretly tosses the wine overboard to remain sober while everyone else drinks their fill.
You grow ever more curious at the captain. His hair stands out, beautiful wicks all tied together in a ponytail to keep the wind from messing it up. His sleeves are rolled up as he navigates the wheel, dozens of ink drawn on his arms, each having different designs that your otherworldly eyes have never seen before. And his eyes, his brown eyes are aglow with happiness, as if he's at his peak in his seafaring life. He doesn't gloat or bask in the compliments, rather, it seems to motivate him more to do better for his crew; unlike the other captains you've seen so far. He truly cares for them like they're his family, they could be as he looks at them all with fondness.
Morning soon dips into the afternoon, orange hues kissing the pleasant blue of the sea. The party is long gone, they've retreated back into their cabins, probably snoring away all the wine they've drunk. Hobie's alone on deck, save for a few pirates snoring on the floors while clutching at wine bottles and even their blunderbuss.
He looks like he's genuinely enjoying the quietness, letting the sea sing to him its primordial song. His hands relax against the wheel, eyes glittering like the water below. Sighing, you admire the captain beneath the orange glow and how it illuminates his handsome features.
You daydream about what life could be for you if you were a pirate sailing the seven seas. Would you even be good at it? Would you find precious treasures on your adventures? And would the captain praise you for your heroics just like the crew have done for him?
A loud clattering of something metallic takes you back to reality. A rolling coin heads your way, threatening to fall into the depths. Hobie follows right behind, boots thumping as quietly as he can but frantic enough to get the coin before it falls.
Your eyes widen, immediately plunging down into the water before he could spot you dangling on the anchor. As you splash down, the coin drops into the sea, its gilded metal glimmering in the water.
“Shit.” You hear his muffled curse.
Without thinking, you scoop up the coin before it plunges down deeper. Admiring the simple thing, you wonder what's so special about it to have the captain run after it in haste. You've seen a hundred of these, and you still have no idea why humans fight to the death just for it. You seem to not think things through as you rise above the water and throw it back on deck. If it was so special to him, you'd rather have it be back in his hands than on your own.
“The fuck?” His shock is evident in his voice. As you hear the familiar footsteps, you duck back inside the water to hide and then you see his face peek from above. His eyes scan the water, finding nothing out of the ordinary. “I thought I heard somethin’”
You can't help but giggle at his confused expression. Bubbles rise up from your smiling lips, and Hobie knits his brow at the weird occurrence.
With curiosity, he throws the coin back into the water and watches it plop down. You catch it underwater, looking up at him as he anticipates for it to jump back up on its own.
He waits and waits, but after a full minute, he leaves the side of the ship. You smile, preparing to throw it back to the deck. But before you could leap, he comes back to take another look, as if he could catch it moving mid air.
You laugh, hands clasped over your lips. He scratches the back of his head, and blinks the tiredness away.
“I'm goin’ bloody bonkers out ‘ere.” He says, going back to the upper deck to steer the ship once again.
“B–Bonkers.” You repeat with your own voice, giggling to yourself at the word. “Bonkers!” Your tail swooshes happily, coin grasped tightly in your palms.
With a teasing look above, watching the ship as it sails, you decide to throw the coin back on to the ship. This time though, you don't hold back. Swimming deeper to gain momentum, you quickly swim back up and leap into the air, and toss the coin right on the highest deck. It hits him right on his head.
His startled scream and the crew's more terrified yells was worth the effort of doing that. A string of curses erupt throughout the whole ship as they wake up one another with their earth shaking screams.
Hobie races to the bannister, but you're already long gone and swimming back to your tiny island, laughing as you swim.
Night comes and you're still asleep because of this morning's activities. A startling boom wakes you up, followed by yelling and the crackling of fire. You know the smell well, a mixture of blood and gunpowder floating in the salty sea.
You look outside of your home, finding the same red sails burning and crashing down into the water. Your heart plunges down, and you've got only one person in mind— Hobie. Without sparing another second, you swim as fast as you could towards the fighting. You expertly dodge corals, seaweeds that threaten to entangle your tail and sea life that parts for you. It's further than you thought, but you continue on with hope in mind.
The second you get there, you see fellow sirens gathering and taking chunks out of the ones that have fallen deep enough in the water. There's no saving the ones who are long gone, so you desperately search under the heat of the fire and wreckage for the familiar face.
While you swim around, you see a small dinghy rowing a few ways away from the fight. A single oil lamp guiding them in the dark. As you look closer, you find that it's a handful of Hobie's own crew, and they're fighting a couple of sirens who are trying to grab hold of them to pull them down into the dark depths. You race over to their side, not to go help pick them apart one by one, but to hiss and fight your kind.
With a show of your teeth and a few scratches along their scaly arms, they scramble away, leaving the crew behind. Looking back at them, you find that they're already staring at you with wide eyes. But you don't care as you search each of their faces for the captain, leaping over to the side of the boat as it sways side by side. When you don't find him, hopelessness clings to you like seaweed.
“Ho–Hobie?” You manage to let out with few resistance from your throat. Their faces can't be painted as they look at you with a mix of awe and fear. “Hobie!” Your yell startles them more. But it's effective as the same blonde you saw earlier points back towards the ship where you can briefly see his silhouette still on the deck. “Thank!” Swimming away, you leave the puzzled crew members behind.
Swimming with all your might towards the blaze, your arms are raised in front of your face to protect you against the blaze and the bodies floating around. you leap up into the sinking ship without sparing another minute, legs carrying you towards him the second your feet hit the slippery wood.
Hobie's fighting a much bigger man than him. Both evenly matched as swords clash amidst the flames, and the moon bears witness to it all.
Just as you get closer to them, the man strikes Hobie's side with a dagger that was hidden underneath his sleeve, drawing blood from the captain.
“No!” Your guttural yell takes the assailant's attention, giving you enough time to pounce on him and rip his face with your teeth.
His screams fill the night, and as he falls harshly into the floor of the sinking ship, you quickly make your way towards Hobie's side.
“Wha–who?” He gasps for breath, red staining the floor underneath him.
You point at yourself, “I…will help.” You manage to find the right words to convey your feelings.
“Help?”
“Yes,” grabbing him, you effortlessly carry him over your shoulders. “You will live.” Turning around to look for his crew members, your eyes hone in on the small boat getting farther and farther away. If you tried to swim there with him in tow and him weighing you down, he wouldn't make it. So in a last minute decision, you dive into the water towards your small island.
Hobie groans in his sleep, and your hands smell of herbs. You haven't concocted something like this in years, but your memory still serves you right as his wound is healing well. He's still unconscious, but at least he's alive.
None of his crew has come to take him home, so you kept him safe from the other sirens, kept him warm and hydrated by simply wetting his lips with fresh water from a river further into the island. It's been a few days since the fight, and his breathing is much better, and everytime you place your ear by his heart, it beats normally. You might not be human, but you've lived long enough to know about their anatomy. Well, you've eaten their anatomy.
“I…” your brows knit in frustration from not finding the right words. You've been practicing lately so when he wakes up, you can explain yourself to him. “...I eat.” That sounds wrong. “No, I don't eat…you.” You smile after you think that you've translated it correctly. “Yes, no eat.”
Patting his arm gently, you test if you could wake him up. You're growing quite impatient. With a sigh and not even a stir from the pirate captain, you go back to shore to bask in the water. The night is calm and there's no fog or other ships abound, so you sit and wait and watch as the tiny crabs burrow themselves in the sand. The sky stretches before you, stars twinkling beside the moon as you reach up with your hand to look at them between your fingers.
A groan echoes out in the cave, and as you stand up, you come face to face with the captain you've grown fond of.
Hobie's eyes widen at the sight of you. Your scales glow iridescent light from how the moon shines upon you. The makeshift clothes you wear that consist of shells, fishing nets, cloth from broken sails that sticks to you like wet paper, and rope tying it all together has his eyes squirming away to look at your face instead. As if looking at the face of a goddess is way better for his poor heart.
“Hello.” You enunciate.
He doesn't know what to say.
You take his reaction as fear. “Oh no, I will not eat.” Taking a step closer, you expect for him to flinch away but he doesn't. “No eating captain.” Smiling, you're proud of yourself for managing the words.
“Why? Do I not taste good?” He jokes, one that flies over your head. “‘m a bit offended by that, love.”
You slow blink at him. “Love?”
“I think that wasn't very funny either. Sorry.” Hobie chuckles nervously, “why did you help me?”
“Oh I know!” You come closer to him, hands clasped in front of you out of excitement. Pointing at his chest, your smile makes him smile, albeit nervous at how sharp your teeth are. “Bonkers!”
Hobie breaks into a bout of laughter. “You saved me because ‘m bonkers?”
You nod in quick succession. “Yes! And.” Inhaling, you gather all your strength to muster the correct word. “Pretty.” You remember that word from a sailor who once whispered it to you before you sank your teeth in him. “And!” You pat his pockets, he squirms away before you find what you were looking for within a half second. “This!” Showing him the coin, his face morphs into understanding.
“That was you?” You nod and He smiles softly, eyes darting from your face and at the waves as he rubs at his eyes. “And you think ‘m pretty?”
“Yes, and a good cap’n.” You mimic the exact words you heard his crew said to him.
“Now you're the one inflatin' my ego.” He shifts his weight, eyes meeting with your own. “I think you're pretty too.”
Smiling, you giddily bite your lower lip from the compliment. “Thank.”
Hobie chuckles, “you're good at this already, love.” He gestures towards his patched up wound. “And this. Thank you for the help.”
“Thank you!” You grin bigger, and he's slowly getting used to the rows of sharp teeth. *Slowly.
“Right, goddess, I have to build a raft to get to my crew.” He says and you're having a hard time deciphering his words. “Ah shit, you look even more adorable with that confused face.” His tone is laced with endearment.
“Thank you?”
“You're welcome.” He grasps at his injury as he wobbles further into the island.
“No,” you carefully take his hand, stopping him from going further. You're careful not to scratch him with your claws. “They will eat you.”
“Who's they?” As he looks towards the trees, he sees a dozen or so glowing eyes blinking at him. “Fuckin' hell.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” You mumble back.
Hobie side glances at you, lips curling into an unsure smile. “I'll think of something else to do then.” He walks back with you following close by. “For now at least.” Mumbling, he stretches his aching body from the prolonged idleness.
“Morning, they sleep.”
“It's safe in the mornin’?” You nod, a bit unsure but a nod nonetheless. “Alright,” he sighs, stomach grumbling. “Do you have food?”
“Only human.”
Hobie swears under his breath, not completely understanding whether you only have human food for him, or that the only food available is actually human. He has a long night ahead of him.
You have grown accustomed to the situation at hand. There's no rest for the wicked now that Hobie is in siren territory. You keep a close eye on them as they watch you with their glowing eyes at night, their appetite is insatiable even though they had their fill a few days ago because of the recent sea battle. Hobie's well enough to craft weapons for the two of you, so he made a spear that he whittled down, and a small dagger that he sharpened just for you. Your claws are the best weapons for you, but you still took it gladly. He made it especially for you so of course you'll keep it. No one has made you anything before, and you cherish it together with the trinkets you've collected over the years.
Days go by, more and more sirens leave you and Hobie alone in your tiny corner in the island as they've given up on hunting him down. You've proved how strong you are over the years of living alone. He's much better now that the wound you've relentlessly tended to has healed in record time. He keeps thanking you for it, but you can sense the melancholy in his eyes everytime he looks towards the sea. There's no sign of his crew coming to rescue him. You feel for him and his longing.
You and Hobie have some sort of schedule now, he picks fruits in the morning, then he teaches you human language in the afternoon after he gathers materials for the raft he's making. You've gotta hand it to the captain, he's quite good at surviving. You guess that he has done this before. And sure enough, when you asked him about it, he told you of a story that he was once stranded on an island, only surviving on fruits and crates of chocolate that had washed up on the shore. You wonder what that tastes like.
You're slowly liking the peace he brings to the island, there's no more petty squabbling between you and the rest of the sirens now that they've fully left the two of you. He's not liking the fruit and nut diet the island has an abundance for him though. Because of the lack of fish and birds that pass through the island, out of fear for the nature of the creatures that live there, other species avoid the place. He has to opt for a less filling meal everyday, it doesn't help much with energy as he needs it in building the raft. But he strives through it, chatting with you as if he's not trying to survive day by day. He even introduced you to fire and the warmth that it brings, not just the destruction you've seen it do.
You're carnivorous in nature, so one day, out of curiosity whilst he boils sea water to drink and roasting tree nuts over the fire, you asked if you could have one of the fruits he's holding onto.
“You can eat?” You point at the brown hairy fruit.
“Yes,” Hobie chuckles as you scooch over to him. Knee to knee as the campfire cackles through the night. The flames make the iridescent scales on your arms and legs sparkle. “It’s called coconut, and it's sweet.”
“No poison?” With the pad of your finger, you curiously touch the white part of it.
“No poison—” he starts to give it to you, only to realize something that might be crucial. “—Actually, it might be for you.” He moves the coconut away from you, worry etched in between his brows.
“Oh.” Your shoulders deflate.
“Sorry, I jus’ don't want my saviour dyin’ from a coconut.”
“I won't die, I'm strong like you.” You proudly say as you poke his chest.
Hobie smiles, the golden flames illuminating his handsome features. “I know you are, pretty. But you're afraid of it bein’ poison and there's probably a good reason for that.”
“Why?” You tilt your head, wide eyes blinking at him.
He can't help but think you're adorable, despite the sharp teeth and nails. “Species usually have a natural fear instinct of things that could kill ‘em.” Chuckling, he shakes his head. “What am I talkin' ‘bout? My mate Ned can explain it better for you, lovie.”
“Are you…” He waits patiently for you to continue. You're still getting used to human speech, but Hobie quickly found out that you're a quick learner. “...afraid of me?” You ask in a small voice, a stark contrast to how you sing your deadly song.
Hobie shakes his head with a gentle smile, palm patting your forearm briefly. “I used to, not anymore.” You've proven your friendliness to him more than once, he knows you're good too.
You feel like the boulder stuck in your throat is gone just from his reassurance. “Thank you, Hobie.” His smile grows wider at how much you've improved with your Language in such a short time. You clear your throat, waking up from a haze when you stared too long at his eyes. “Is Ned a friend?”
“Yeah, you'd love him. He's smart just like you.” Hobie looks into the fire sadly.
“Can you… tell me? About your friends?”
“You want to get to know the crew?” He stares at you fondly, the same look he had towards his crew back then. You nod with a smile, you're all ears. “Alright then.”
He tells you stories of life out in the sea and on land. The places he has been, the people he met and lost. And of course stories about his crew members and how they fought well, what their jobs are on the ship and what they dream of. With each word he utters about them, his face blooms into a more joyous one. But your own smile fades as the realization that he would leave your little island one day— And you in turn. Your heart aches at the thought you'll be left alone again.
Sometimes you wish that you don't understand humans as well as you do for this to hurt less.
Days fly by, turning into weeks as you two fall into a rhythm on the island. Each day that passes, Hobie's inevitable departure gets closer and closer, and you're already dreading the day he'll row away from you and the life he built there on the island. Your speech has gotten a lot better than before thanks to Hobie's teaching. In between the busy days and quiet nights, the two of you make time to just be yourselves. No lessons, no building the raft, just laughing at nonsense that Hobie has told you, or telling him stories of your time under the sea. The things you've seen in the depths always have him on the edge of his seat.
He even surprised you one day with a tiny display shelf to place all your collected knick knacks in. The way you jumped up to embrace him almost had him falling down into the waters. And in turn, you made him a necklace made from beads and seashells you've found, he never takes it off since then.
The two of you found affection for the other. A friendship that transcends despite the differences.
Morning comes once again, and the waves come to visit the little island you call home. You feel energized, finally having slept well without waking up in the middle of the night. After taking care of the unconscious captain, and fighting fellow sirens, this was the first time you've actually slept through the night. You're used to waking up to the moon, but with Hobie being with you in your cave, you've also taken to sleeping at night and waking up at the same hours as him. Sure you're missing out on sailors, but there's always scraps left for you in the morning with it floating in the water, small scraps, but food nonetheless. Yet, you're still starving.
Cracking one eye open, you see the empty spot next to you. Jumping out of bed, you worry that Hobie got eaten in the middle of the night, the feeling subsides when you see him weave ropes on the sandy beach.
“Mornin’ pretty.”
“Morning.” Your voice cracks with sleep. “Have you eaten?”
“I have,” he smiles, gesturing at the pile of coconuts he left on the half finished raft. “I didn't see you hunt yesterday. You okay?”
You shake your head without hiding your true feelings. “Starving.”
Hobie can practically feel your weakening form tremble from where he sat. “I can try again with the fish—”
Stepping closer, your irises have grown into slits, teeth bared in front of him. “There's no fish, Hobie.”
Nodding, his breath gets stuck in his throat as you get closer and closer to him. His natural instincts tell him to run. “I think I saw a bird fly over an hour ago, maybe I can—”
Your sudden sobs stun him in place. Cries echoing around the island as you hide your tearful eyes away from him. All your worries collapse on you, add the fact that you haven't eaten in days is a recipe for disaster.
“Shit—” he slowly steps closer, trepidation in each footstep upon the sand. “I don't know, love, maybe I can set up a trap in the water.” With an arm reaching towards you, you quickly step back in a hurry.
“Don't!” You yell, sniffing and wiping away at your tears. “I might eat you.”
Hobie chuckles, tensed shoulders relaxing and trying to reassure you with a single smile. It doesn't work when you frown deeper. “Right,” he walks closer to you, but you walk backwards and into the side of the cave. Now caged in as he cups each of your tear stained cheeks. “I know you won't eat me, love.” His thumb brushes along your tears, wiping it away as you look at him through your sticky lashes. “‘sides, you haven't eaten in days, if you wanted to eat me you would've done it days ago.” Smiling, he tilts his head. “Seriously, I think you don't find me appetisin’”
You sniff, eyes downturned only for him to duck to meet with your eyes. “I'm sorry for crying, I'm just hungry.” Gently laying your head against his clavicle, he chuckles and welcomes your warmth with open arms. “I'm sorry for eating people too.”
“Don’t be, they probably deserved it.” He pats your back while the other cradles the back of your head. “You can have a nibble on my arm—”
You smack his chest lovingly, giggling against his skin. “No.”
“You sure?” Hobie laughs atop your head. “Maybe I can make some sort of sauce to pair with me.”
Chuckling, you embrace him tighter. You don't know when you'll be able to hug him again so you take your time in squeezing him. “I'll survive, don't worry.”
He hums, getting a whiff of sea salt as he presses his nose on your hair. “I don't doubt that, love.”
Eyes closed, you remember the fruits and nuts on the island, maybe if you try it, it might satiate your hunger. You know your kind’s diet didn't always consist of human flesh, but that was before your time. So maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt to give it a nibble.
When he went out to gather more wood for the makeshift raft, you grab a handful of nuts and a coconut from his stash. You sit cross legged inside the cave, heart thudding in your chest. Eyeing your herbs that you placed right next to you just in case you start bleeding out of your eyes, you take a deep inhale and immediately carve out a part with your nail and take a bite out of the fleshy part of the coconut.
Chewing, you let the sweetness spread on your tongue. You don't feel any different than before, no tingling sensation or blood dripping from every orifice. So you swallow down and wait for a minute.
Sitting there frozen, you feel fine. With a bout of loud laughter, you start eating the rest of Hobie's food, waiting a few seconds in between to test if it has any effects on you. The next thing you know, you've eaten your fill. Coconut juice is left on your lips and hands, the shell from the nuts are spread all over the floor of the cave and your burp echoes inside the place. Chuckling, you hear the sound of clattering wood right in the entrance of the cave.
“What—!?” Hobie quickly makes his way towards you, panic settling in his bones as he opens your mouth with his fingers. “Did you eat it? Love, you need to vomit it out!” He's considering shoving his hand in your mouth.
Your garbled words have him thinking that you're choking. “Fuck no!” His fear gets to him as he hugs you from behind and squeezes you in quick succession. He doesn't know siren anatomy, but maybe it's not so different with his own. So with determination, he tries to dislodge whatever you’ve eaten. “Shit– fuck!”
“I'm alright!” You let out instead of the food he was trying to squeeze out of you. Twisting around, you pat his cheek, giggling with amusement. “See?” Spreading your arms, you show off your still-alive self.
He heaves, palm placed atop his heart. “You're fine?”
Nodding happily, he finally lets out a sigh of relief. He feels like he's the one who's about to collapse. You guess you can stop eating human flesh now, maybe you should tell the others about your findings.
Hobie lays his forehead on your shoulder, hands placed on your hips as he levels his breathing. You pat his back, cradling him and letting out a laugh with every sigh he lets out.
“There there, captain.” You teasingly say. He could only groan in reply.
The day has come for him to leave. It's earlier than you thought it would be, you hoped that he could stay for a week or two more, but with the sight of a ship with the familiar red sail floating a few miles away, it has Hobie preparing for the short trip.
You help him with the final preparations, tying the last rope around the wooden planks, and securing the bundle of coconuts on the raft. Your heart weighs heavy, but you can't keep him away from where he's supposed to be.
The sun shines brightly above, but you don't feel its warmth against your skin.
Holding the dagger he gave you atop your chest, you watch him push the raft from the beach closer to the shore. Your lips wobble as he grins wider at the ship from afar.
“They're waitin’ for me, I knew it.” He turns towards you, and you hide your sorrow with a forced smile. “Love.”
“Keep safe, captain.” You manage to say without a broken sob. “Stay away from here, you might not be…” you inhale shakily, “...so lucky next time.”
“Come away with me.”
His hand reaches towards you as the waves lap on the beach. You stare at his stretched hand, tracing the scars along it with your tearful eyes. He whispers your name softly, beckoning you closer.
You hug the dagger closer to your chest. “They’ll hurt me.” His hand grasps gently at your chin, raising your face to meet with his eyes. “Just like how I've hurt people.”
“You told me you saved ‘em. And you saved me.” He shakes his head, eyes softly looking into your own. “I won't let them hurt you, I won't let anyone hurt you.”
“I'm different, Hobie. Not human enough.”
“You're human enough for me, love.” Leaning closer, he nudges his forehead against yours briefly. “Come away with me, let me show you the world.”
Your eyes close as he moves closer, lips brushing nervously atop your own until you make a move. His lips taste of fruits, sweet and gentle on your own lips. You're careful of the sharpness of your teeth, but he doesn't mind as he kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever taste you. It might as well be if you decide to stay. It'll break his heart, but if that's what you want, he'll give it to you. If you want the world, he'll put it on a silver platter just for you.
You've captivated him without your siren song, but he's more than ready to dive into the depths if you so will it.
Leaning away, you open your eyes to his shining ones. “Will you have me as I am?”
Hobie grins and kisses each of your cheeks until you're smiling. He nods, “with everythin’ I have.”
With one final look at your home where your collections of human things lay, you leave it all for the pirate you have in your arms. Hopefully you'll see more in your adventures.
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elleluvsjurin · 3 days ago
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better me and you
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request: sub!rina
Synopsis: karina wants you to top for once 
Pairings: yoo jimin x model fem!reader
Cw: pussy eating(k rec.), fingering(k rec), switch!Rina x switch!fem, short story, smut without plot tbh
a/n: alt ending for pt 1: linked here 
Dating a kpop idol was unlike no other, especially thee Karina of Aespa. Ever since the first meet up between you two, you have been inseparable. It’s been 6 months since then and it’s been nothing but great even with you guys’ booked schedules, you two still try and make time to see each other. You two even decided to get a place together. Karina usually takes control over the relationship. Booking the trips, reserving private places for dates, etc. Even during sex, she enjoys taking control. Though, she’s thought about you doing all of the work here recently-a lot. Since it was an off day for the two of you, she decided to ask you to top. 
She walks into the shared room, upon seeing you scroll on your phone, she plops down on the bed next to you. Her breath hitches before she speaks up. “Uh, y/n?” she asks, her nervous persona confusing you as she’s normally confident. 
“Yes? What’s going on, my love?” you say, looking into her eyes, attempting to try and find the cause of her nervousness. “I want you to use me..” she blurts out and your eyes damn near bulge out of your head, her comment forcing you to sit up on the bed. “Huh?” you question. “I-I want you to top tonight.” she says, finally taking a breath and you softly chuckle. 
You see the tips of your girlfriend’s ears turn red and she looks defeated. “Nevermind-” she starts. “No, no. It’s fine, I wouldn’t mind fucking your brains out.” you say and she blushes. 
You get up to pull her into your lap and you softly kiss her lips. “You look so cute when you get shy..should’ve told me sooner, rina!” you mumble up against her soft lips. She giggles and cups your face with her hands, sticking her tongue in your mouth. You two fight for dominance and she ends up winning. You smile and pull away, “let me take control, i’m gonna make you feel good. Chill, ok?” you say, nicely scolding her and she nods her head up and down, listening to you instinctively. “Sorry, you know I'm used to it.” she says and you two share a cute giggle. 
“Seems like you want me to fuck you now, eh?” you ask and she blushes like crazy. That pink hue is now replaced with a red one. “I-I-wow.” she says. “You have a funny way of explaining yourself, honey.” you jokingly comment before lifting her up, lying her down on the bed. She grabs your shirt, pulling it over your head. She successfully pulls it off but you grab her wrist. “What’d I say?” you ask firmly and she freezes. “You told me to chill..” she says quietly and you press a kiss up to her lips. “Perfect. Be a good girl, hm?” you mumble and she nods her head. “Yes m-ma’am.” she softly mumbles. You smile at her, unbuckling her pants. You take off her garments one by one. Starting with her pants, ending it off with pulling down her underwear. A string of her slick sticking to her panties, indicating how turned on she is by your dominance. 
You go to kiss her stomach and she grabs onto your hair. “P-please..i need you so bad.” Karina softly mumbles and you smile. She spreads her legs for you, her glistening cunt on display. You bend over in front of her before saying “Such a pretty pussy, rina.” you mumble before diving in, licking and sucking all over her aching clit. Karina grabs a nice amount of your hair while she grinds on your face. “Shit- don’t stop!” karina cries out and of course, you don’t stop. You slowly start to thrust your tongue in her tight hole, you feel your girlfriend clench around your tongue and you softly moan. Karina throws her head back, feeling your tongue enter her pussy, grinding her pussy all over your face. “Fuck y/n..eat my pussy, just like that!” karina moans. You suck and slurp all over her clit, karina leans forward to smack your ass while you eat her out and you squeal into her cunt. 
You release your mouth from her clit and you start to finger her pussy. Her pussy juices leak all over your fingers as the tips of your fingers press up against that spongy spot inside of her. “God thats it, my love.” you whisper to yourself, before bending down and sucking her clit while you finger her pussy. “Im almost there.” karina mumbles, her voice slightly raspy. You thrust your fingers faster and karina draws out a long moan, her thighs shaking around your head as she cums all over your fingers. You clean her up with your tongue before coming up to kiss her lips. “That was so..hot.” karina breathes out up against your lips. “Says you.” you cheekily mumble and she grabs your ass, flipping the two of you over. “My turn.” karina says and you laugh. The evening ended in multiple orgasms and cuddles!
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cloversnstrawberries · 2 days ago
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"eschatological hope" platonic!yandere!albert wesker & B.O.W!teen!reader [twoshot] [pt 1] ! !
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masterlist !
description; You're one of many 'subjects' of a strange underground facility, one that sources their patients from survivor shelters outside of cities affected by outbreaks, specifically ones catered to children who are either orphaned or lost their parents amongst the chaos. One day, the emergency alarm begins blaring; the pre-recorded code said through the announcement system was unfamiliar.
You took it as a chance to run, to escape this hell-- it was the best opportunity you could ever ask for. Too bad it doesn't go you your way.
additional notes; hello! this definitely was just supposed to be a oneshot, but i lost hold on my self restraint and just want to really start off my resident evil writing with a bang . i really love this idea, and i'm a sucker for religious imagery and references, so :) but also, there's a scary lack of platonic!yan albert wesker... i plan to amend that in the coming weeks as i dive headfirst into this special interest on here. it's not going away. help.
also! reader is intended to be a younger teen, around ~14/15 in here, but can be interpreted as younger or older!
warnings; Child experimentation, body horror, betrayal, mentions of the apocalypse, canon-typical bloods, guts, gore, and violence, death of a child/mentioned deaths of children (not reader), child abuse, guns, general terror, non-consensual body modification (the scientists altered reader with a virus strain </3), not very yandere in this part, but oh boy will shit hit the fan in the second part, heavy religious symbolism and references (which will only get more obvious in the next part), slightly soft Albert Wesker, and there might be more that I missed! if so, please be sure to let me know!!
w/c; 7.7k (oh lord)
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I was so close, you mournfully thought-- your cheek pressed to the cold tile, a guard's boot dug into the back of your skull as he put more and more pressure onto your cranium.
You were so close to make it out of here- out of here alive. You'd seen countless other... subjects, is all they saw you as; come and go from this strange, underground facility.
It always ended the same, whether or not they tried to escape.
You were a fool to think you were any different.
You'd made it the longest, survived the most tests. You were weak, muscles atrophied and dizzy from how small the portions of the meals they gave you were-- even if they could hardly be called that.
Scraps. They were just scraps, just enough to keep you alive; but just small enough to discourage this kind of stunt.
They keep you weak, keep you under their thumb until the time came to crush you down beneath it. You'd witnessed this many times-- you're not sure how many, no longer seeing a reason to keep track of the numbers.
Last you'd counted, it'd been at 38. 38 dead, either shot because they tried to escape, or...
Jamie had been a good friend to you, throughout this hell of an experience. In hushed whispers, they'd tell you stories of their life; they lived so differently from yourself, having hailed from sunny California.
You exchanged stories about the crazy weather phenomena you'd experienced, the snow storms that hit Arklay county mid-October a few years back, was traded for a story about how the highest temperature they'd suffered through was a whopping 131 degrees in the dead of summer.
But now, there was no Jamie.
There was only the thing left in their place, an awful amalgamation of... oh god, you can't even pick it apart. So many things-- eyes of a goat, five legs; two sprouting from their back like a dinosaurs spine, and one burst out of their shoulder.
Their face was near-unrecognizable, their voice no better off. You could hardly understand the words they were saying-- and they were words, you knew that much-- as they curled their hand, as crushed and mangled and deformed as it was, around your ankle.
You stood there, frozen with terror-- unknowing of what-- no, who, this was; until you caught sight of a chunk of long hair, once dyed a vibrant red atop light blonde hair-- all that was left was a faded red, their roots having grown in a good 2 or 3 inches, coming from what you assumed to the top of the thing's skull.
"Jamie?" You'd muttered, voice small and broken. You no longer tried to fight the hold on your leg, simply stared down in abject horror. You didn't notice the alarm begin to ring, nor the flashing red of the emergency lights-- the call of a code over the intercom, summoning all available personal to deal with a "Code 96".
It-- They, nodded; or it seemed like it, a jerk of what must've been their head. What came from the thing-- no, Jamie's mouth next, made your heart go from nearly beating out of your chest to terribly, deathly still, as you realize what they'd been trying to say the entire time.
"Kill... me..." they'd rasped, all semblance of their fiery but intelligent personality gone, replaced with a simple need to be put out of their misery.
You had no means to do so, but as you heard boots rushing down the echoing hallways-- making their way to the adolescent patient's barracks where they kept you all, you knew that they did.
You sunk to your knees, and you held your friend until the guards came in, one tasked with evacuating the other subjects; not wanting any to accidentally get hurt, because then that'd just be a waste of resources-- pulled you from your friend, who let out a horrifying sort of shriek.
Your hand outstretched, as they fumbled to reach out; unable to grab yours in time, you were pulled form the room just as rounds and rounds of gunshots sounded behind you. The door had barely been shut before it started, dents made in the dense metal scared you deeply-- but the bullets never did make it through the material.
Or because the experiments got to them first. The things they inject you all with, the tests and strange sets of tasks that hardly coincide with each other-- the things that somehow make nearly everyone turn into some sort of monster,
Some kept their mind, like Jamie had, and some didn’t.
You’d had an awful feeling that your time would come soon, when all the weird injections and ‘medicines’ and ‘treatments’ finally got to you.
In some ways, you’d accepted that. The fact that you’d probably never make it out, that you’d just be another lost subject. A waste of resources.
Not a living, breathing child that they stole away from a survivor’s shelter after an outbreak hit your city and you fled— and were able to do so, because you were all alone.
You had hopes and dreams— ones that would be splattered across the frigid tile floor any second now, along with your blood and brain matter.
Sometimes the guards were kind, they gave one shot right at the crown of your head— killing you instantly.
Sometimes they wanted to have a little ‘fun’ as they called it. Nobody but the guards found it fun, how they’d toy with the kids as they killed them— the scientists and ‘doctors’ found it wasteful of their time, a disgrace that they spent more time than necessary on terminating a subject.
The other kids, yourself included, found it horrifying. In the dark of night, when you all knew the cameras weren’t as heavily watched as before— the guards weren’t standing where they were supposed to in the patient barracks, you’d spread stories about how the staff were really the monsters.
You’d say that one has a second face hidden beneath her giant, fluffy blonde hair. The others kids said that one of the guards, a particularly cruel one which none of you knew the name of, secretly had a third eye— that’s why he never took off the guard gear, which most every other one did at some point, for one reason or another.
And as you lay here, feeling your nose shift as the pressure of the boot on your head increased, your face pressing harder and harder into the tile— you come to the dreadful realization that they’re going to have their ‘fun’ with you.
You hope they get in trouble with their superiors— really, you do. Because with the red emergency lights going, causing a terrible headache to form right behind your eyes— and the alarm blared, a pre-recorded voice calling over the intercom;
They shouldn’t be here, taking their sweet time with a patient that’d broken off from the rest. Honestly, you thought you could get away with it, in the chaos of them evacuating all patients; or, all patients worth saving.
Noticeably, the barracks that held the younger kids, all below 6, were not evacuated. If anything, they weren’t making any move to free the poor things— the door still locked, probably.
“You know,” The guard began to say, and you recognized that voice. Oh, oh God did you recognize it.
You thought he was nicest of the bunch— he always did his best to help you. In quiet, dark corners where the cameras wouldn’t reach, he’d give you a hug to hide the way he handed you some extra food.
Sometimes you’d smuggle it back to the barracks, to distribute among the most malnourished of you all. Sometimes he’d have you eat it right then and there, to make sure you got extra nutrients.
“So you can grow big and strong,” He’d say. That implied that’d you’d make it further than a year in this hellhole.
He’d even told you his name-- his first one, not his last one; the one he was supposed to only be known as, something he really wasn’t meant to do— he called you by your name as well, your real one, not the serial code you were assigned when you got here.
“Na-than—“ You stumbled out, letting out a cry of pain as he cruelly, oh-so-cruelly, put all of his weight on the foot currently crushing your skull.
He took it off within a few seconds, not wanting you to die so quickly. It’d be a mercy, considering what the other guards tend to do with the subjects they have their sick ‘fun’ with.
“Oh shut the hell up, you fucking brat.” He sounded so cruel. This— this couldn’t be Nathan, could it? No… they’re tricking you. He had to have been replaced, this was nothing like him—!
In a split second, you felt all encompassing relief; as he lifted his foot from the back of your head— but that relief was short-lived, as he crouched down beside you and wound his fingers through your hair,
He yanked your head up, and you made a valiant, but ultimately useless, attempt to stifle the yelp from the action.
When you did let that sound out— though, much smaller than it would’ve been had you not tried, he jostled your head around.
“I really thought you’d be the one to make it. The scientists worked really hard on your virus strain, you know that?” He said that as if it was your fault— your fault for what? You couldn’t really place your finger on.
Maybe… he’s blaming you because you’d given the scientists hope that they’d succeeded? If you had succeeded, would they have stopped the operations—
Or doubled the effort? You’re leaning more towards the latter.
“s’not my fault…” You mumbled, screwing your eyes shut. You swear that they had to have replaced all the lights with brighter, more agitating ones. It hurt to be anywhere when the lights were fully on— the blaring emergency light, bright red and spinning constantly— added another layer of it.
“Open your fucking eyes when i’m talking to you!” He yelled— oh, you’d never heard Nathan yell like that. This has to be an imposter; it had to be that the higher-ups found out how kind he was being and terminated him, one way or another.
This couldn’t be him.
Against your own wishes, but along with your better judgement— you peeled open your eyes, lips wobbling as you were forced to come face to face with both the lights, and—
The imposter had taken off his helmet, letting you have a full view of his face.
It was Nathan. No doubt about it.
“I’d say I actually liked you,” He snarled, leaning closer— your back creaking and bending as he pulled your upper half up, but your lower one stayed relatively flat on the floor. “But that’d be a lie.” There was a cruel smirk playing on the corner of his lips, nothing like the kind ones he’d always give you,
You wrenched out a sob, at which he jostled you a little more to get you to “Shut up!”
By that point, you were in absolutely no position not to follow his wishes, your life quite literally placed in the palm of his hands.
He leaned closer again, and you couldn’t help but let the tears rush down your face at the sting of hurt from his words— which only worsened as he continued on.
“The bonuses that my higher-ups gave me to act all buddy-buddy with you were pretty nice, though. I guess I have you to thank for that.”
Oh.
That… makes sense— why you two were never caught. Why he could get away with it, with stealing the food, with showing you his face, telling you his name, hugging you, comforting you—
It was all a ploy,
And for what? Maybe they thought that if the subjects had something to fight for, that they’d be more determined to make it out as a success?
That wasn’t true and you knew it— Jamie had things to fight for, but they still ended up with their mutated body looking more like swiss cheese by the end of it all.
Nathan-- no, the guard, as you refuse to associate this... monster with the man who had been so kind to you, even if, realistically, you knew they were one in the same.
That it was all just an act.
That doesn't mean you have to admit it to yourself, even if you accepted the fact in some capacity.
But... regardless, the guard, clicked his tongue, looking down upon you in a way that made you want to curl up and sob. "They thought you'd make it, you know? You were reacting so well to all the tests. The virus took hold..." You couldn't stop the confused little noise, clawing its way from the back of your throat.
Surprisingly, the guard didn't reprimand or hurt you for it. His smirk only grew to a sick, sick grin. Presumably because of the obvious show of confusion on your part,
"Oh? Did you not know? They were testing a new strain, I mean-- I'm surprised it took to you of all people!" The laugh that followed was mocking and devoid of any light. Any joy that wasn't founded in the sadistic nature of this guard. "It was modified from a strain made by a couple of traitors-- It was meant for the strongest. They just gave it to you to see where that threshold for 'strong' was!"
...Ah.
A virus? That's what this all was? You didn't know what they were putting into you all, none of the other patients had a clue about what was happening besides what was obvious. You really didn't know anything about it--
But that's it? They were putting viruses into all of you? That'd definitely explain why some ended up the way they did; some mindless, some wanting nothing but violence. The ones who didn't what such things always looked as if they did, like Jamie had.
You don't feel sick though, not how Jamie had been describing how they felt as they approached their death day, completely oblivious to what was happening-- a little more lethargic than usual, yes-- but not sick. You don't feel like your bones are about to snap, about to shift and move and rearrange themselves to turn you into a monster. You're sure you would've... felt it,
Before you could make another sound-- before the guard could continue his spiel, a new round of heavy gunfire broke out nearby-- a few turns down the long corridor, you think.
Then, screams-- so many, and.. and bones cracking, flesh ripping; it didn't sound like anyone was getting shot.
It sounded like their heads were being twisted and ripped from their neck. You witnessed that once, with a particularly violent, now-terminated, subject. That's how you recognized the awful sound as the flesh of the neck tried to follow the way their head was being turned, only to be ripped-- sinew snapping as their bodies were pushed pass the limits of human capabilties.
The alarms-- no one knew what it was about, the code they were putting through the intercoms wasn't one you recognized. It wasn't one any of you recognized-- the guards seemed... panicked, for once. Not for you all, not at all; but because they had to evacuate everyone before they could save themselves.
Something told you that this wasn't a regular sort of rampage, put on by a grotesque mimicry of one of your fellow captives.
One second, the guards fingers were twisted in your hair-- yanking you, making your neck strain painfully as he forced you to look him in the face,
And the next, your hair was released and your head lolled forward; smacking your forehead right against the tile, not enough time to brace yourself at all. You heard the guard yell out a string of curses, before he stumbled-- and you mean stumbled, up; all scary calm and malice gone.
Replaced by a primal fear and terror that you know all too well. It was a little funny, seeing the primary force behind that sort of emotion experiencing it firsthand for once.
You don't see a point in picking yourself up at first, expecting you end to be swift-- for whatever was causing the apparent massacre to come charging at you, uncaring as it twisted your neck violently; just as you're sure it'd done to all the guards a few turns ahead.
But it... a few moments pass by, and nothing of the sort happens. You don't hear anything coming for you-- no horrifying creature shambling toward you on all fours, or a mass of disgusting, pulsing and gory flesh sliding across the tile to attack you.
All you hear are calm, methodical steps coming your way. A scientist, maybe-- all the guards seemed to be in a state of panic, if that one had left you in such a rush; if they leave you alone, if they don't continue their 'fun', or pull you along to continue at another time,
Then you know something is terribly, awfully wrong.
You listened carefully to the click-click-click of heeled dress shoes against the tile floor, coming closer and closer. The scientists weren't as outwardly-cruel as the guards, didn't rough you and the others kid up like they did...
But that's not to say that they cared for you, for any of you. If what the guard said was true, that you had gotten the furthest with their experiments-- then maybe the scientist would pick you up and drag you back.
Or kill you, and study your corpse to see what made your body welcome whatever virus they'd forced onto you.
At that, you made an effort to rise from your spot on the ground. Your elbows gave out the first few times you tried, adrenaline still running through your system-- but you were shaken up, and it was always harder to get up from the floor than it was from a chair or bed.
You were so tired, frail and weak-- but still better off than most. You were one of the few that actually had a chance, and you couldn't just give that up. Even if there was nothing to fight for really, you still had to get out. You don't know why-- maybe it's just in the human nature to want to continue on despite it all.
To survive anything, no real reason behind it. Simply a primal part of you, left over from centuries past; one that not even the most disciplined could stamp down, you think.
When you did get purchase, able to push yourself up to sit on your folded legs-- biting the inside of your cheek to smother the strange sort of chirp that desperately wished to escape you.
That'd been happening recently-- producing strange noises like that of a bird, especially when in distress. You'd been able to cover them up with a cough, or stifle them either mostly or completely, but the more scared you were; the harder it became to hide them.
You managed, though-- the fear of being noticed by whoever those eerily calm, unbothered steps that was a stark contrast to the bloodbath they were certainly just waltzing right through.
One sitting, you did your best to rise from the position-- unable to get to enough leverage to rise just as you were without collapsing to the ground, you got one leg out from under yourself-- though not without great difficulty.
Just as you were about to heft yourself up into a kneeling position, sure that you'd be able to stand from there-- you heard the footsteps come to an abrupt stop; you hadn't noticed how close they were until they went silent.
Slowly, you raised your head. The dread and barely contained panic keeping you from focusing on the throbbing, world-ending headache that kicked up a notch as you looked straight on at the lights--
In front of you, down near the hallway; but not nearly far enough for your own liking, was a man you'd never seen before. Dressed in all black, he looked more like an FBI or undercover agent you'd see in a movie than anything.
Was he here to save you? You dazedly thought, but as you looked into the mans face-- his eyes hidden by simple black sunglasses, something told you that you had to run.
This man wasn't like the others-- his presence felt suffocating, like his existence alone could choke the life out from you.
Despite the headache, the aches and pain-- and the way that, deep down, you knew that you could never outrun this man... or whatever he was; that even if you were perfectly healthy, in the best shape possible, you never stood a chance, you still tried to run.
You stood abruptly, the pressure in your head becoming almost unbearable as black clouded your vision-- as disoriented and dizzy as you were, you're surprised you didn't fall right to the floor like a discarded ragdoll upon standing.
When your vision finally cleared, you met the mans gaze, and really got a look at him. The light casted behind him made him look like he had a halo-- a halo of red, like a sun delivering sailors an ill omen, bounced off of his perfectly gelled blond hair. His face was sharp, and he looked like he was in better shape than some of the guards here.
Upon closer inspection, he seemed to be wearing tactical gear-- and when you looked a little longer, realized that the strange spots of... something, wasn't a bad dye job of the fabric.
It was blood, mostly centralized to his black leather gloves, coagulated but still beading up-- one big glob fell to the floor, as the man simply stood there. Watching, waiting-- like a cat would to a mouse, staring it down and waiting for it to turn its back.
Cat's were stealth predators, more focused catching their prey off-guard rather than over powering it with sheer brute force. You're sure the man could do that-- and the reality of it all came crashing down.
He must be the one who killed the guards, the one that caused the one tormenting you to run for the hills like his life depended on it,
because it did, and yours did too.
He said nothing, as he stood there. He tilted his head, his face unreadable-- the glasses weren't helping. Slowly, as steadily as you could manage, you took a few steps back.
And then a few more, not daring to turn around until the very last minute. When he took a step forward, you turned and bolted down the hall.
You don't know where the exit is-- or, really the elevator. Or stairs-- anything to get you out from this underground hell. You stumbled as you ran, twisting and turning through the corridors; your lungs burning, head pounding and body aching--
But you never stopped running, and you wouldn't until you were safe, or you simply keeled over right then and there. You wouldn't stop running, wouldn't stop this fruitless fight until your very heart gave out--
Or you joined the number of casualties, head twisted off. You'd yet to see any bodies, any blood or gore-- or anyone else. Most of them were in the other side of the building, and you dashed toward the section with the labs and testing rooms.
There, you think you could find a weapon, or at the very least a weapon to brandish. A weapon that would do nothing, and you were well aware it would do nothing.
The man that had stood before you, the one that set off your fight-or-flight instincts like never before, couldn't have been human. He just couldn't have been. If he had been the ones to cause those terrible noises of sinew snapping and viscera splashing on the sterile, once white walls...
Then that was that, he wasn't human. You don't know what exactly he'd be, and you don't want to find out.
For one foolish, silly second-- you assumed you'd shook him off your proverbial tail. He hadn't chased after you, and even if you were malnourished and frail, you still could run fast in necessary. Could push yourself if it meant a chance for freedom, to see the sun again-- even if it'd be the last time.
it'd hurt, you think. The other patients would complain that the barracks lighting was becoming too dim, but to you-- it was always just bit too bright. What might've been bearable the day before, became uncomfortably bright the next. Not blinding like the corridor's lights were, though. And for that, you'd been thankful.
You weren't familiar with this facility-- you were aiming for the labs, but somehow wound up in going in a circle; now facing the other way, close to where you'd started.
Bodies-- all over the ground, mostly guards... a few scientists, their white coats weren't all stained-- some were a stark white against the viscera covering the hallway.
Ahead of you, the click-click-click of heeled dress shoes called your attention, and at the end of the hallway, stood the man.
It was as if he knew you'd wind up back here, like he knew how inexperienced you were in the layout of this place-- like he knew the layout himself. A smirk played at his lips, showcasing rather sharp canines. The kind that could easily tear flesh from bone with no issue.
Maybe... he was an angel of death, you surmised. It fit, it really did-- maybe that's why he made it through the hail of bullets the slain guards around you had sent his way. How he'd been able to kill them so quickly, without so much as a scratch on his person.
The need to run didn't fade, if anything it got worse-- maybe because you knew, wholly and entirely, that you can't run. Not really. If he wanted you dead, then it'd be so. He'd taken down so many trained guards, a measly, terrified child wouldn't be a problem at all.
All you can think of that could stop him, was morals. You don't think he has those-- with the sight surrounding you.
This time, when he stepped forward, you didn't make any move to take a step back. It was useless. this was all so useless. Why you? Why did it have to be you? The shelter hadn't been ideal, but it was better than this.
You sunk to the ground, tears welling in your eyes as you looked down-- trying to look away from the still-going emergency lights, the too-bright fluorescents that hung above were still on. The combination of the two made it feel like someone was tenderizing your brain with a sledgehammer constantly.
The clicks of his shoes aren't as sharp sometimes, when he steps in the puddles of blood-- they get closer, and closer... until he stands before you, only his shoes and part of his legs were visible to you.
You kept your head down, not wishing to look at your end. You want to die under the illusion that you ever had any choice in your life. That you chose your own end, and it was not brought upon you by this... angel of death.
And as you sat there, expecting the pain-- or simply a pinch before your entire world went black; shivering from both fear and the cold of the hallway, bile rising in your throat and your headache refusing to back down even a smidge; you imagine a world were you got to live a little longer.
Because, in your mind, you died the moment you entered this facility; it was a death sentence, and you should've been able to come to terms with that. It was stupid, you felt stupid for thinking you were any different to countless other kids that'd died in these halls-- some going down with a fight, others begging for their end;
"Look at me." A deep, almost... British, but not quite-- voice spoke, clear and concise. The man sounded... oddly human. You'd expected maybe a reverb of sorts, or the voice to crawl into the crevices of your brain and dig their claws in...
He was still scary, his voice sending a flash of terror through your body-- but in a way no different than the scientists were. It was a very human type of fear that his voice incited, the fear of somebody in a position of power above you.
Oh, how badly you wished to stay staring at the ground-- it was the lights, that was the problem. The man scared you, but you knew you should obey him. Maybe he'd give you a chance then.
Oddly enough, he seemed quite... patient, all things considered. he stood there for maybe a minute or so, before repeating himself. In the same tone, the same exact cadence and words.
"Look at me." He said, and something inexplicable-- something that felt rooted in your very soul, tugged at your mind. Telling you that he wouldn't be so kind if you made him ask again.
And you do, trying to keep your eyes open despite the pain that followed. Nausea rolled through you, both from the smell of blood and flesh-- it was sharp, much more noticeable then you think it should be; as if it's being held right in front of your nose-- and from how the headache worsened.
The smirk he had when he'd first spotted you had dropped, his face now a cold mask of... something. He really did look like an angel-- but the sorts found in older religious texts. neither good nor bad, simply carrying out God's will, who in of Themselves, was a contradiction.
The man reached out, and you couldn't help but jerk your head back-- he said nothing of it. In fact, you could've sworn the corners of his lips were giving way to a little smile, not just a smirk-- but it was gone before you could really register it;
But, he continued to reach out, and you stayed stock still, not wanting to test his patience again. You were already on thin ice, probably. For running from him, for making him repeat himself-- maybe he'd give you mercy, though? Because you were so young?
You weren't exactly a child, but you weren't an adult. Maybe... maybe he'd leave you be. He didn't seem to be hurting you, and when he curled his hand around your chin to push your head up just a bit more-- he was... gentle with it. In a way you hadn't experienced in so, so long from any adult.
Even Nathan hadn't been entirely soft with his movements, too used to being rough with it all; not knowing his strength, or the fragility of a subject who'd been here as long as you had.
You're surprised you were still able to run as much as you did.
The man hummed, turning your head just a tad to the left-- then gently guiding it to turn the other way. Like he was a museum curator appraising a priceless artifact.
When he turned your head to face him straight-on, you winced; the headache reaching an all time high, making you feel as if you were going to pass out form the pain at any given moment.
"Does the light bother you?" He asked, and you tried to nod-- but his grip, as gentle as it was, was all too firm. Not enough slack to complete the gesture. "Use your words." He said next, no irritation obvious in his tone.
But still, it set you on edge. How calm he was. People weren't calm like that-- but maybe angels were. That's what he had to be. He couldn't be human... he just couldn't be.
But... why would he ask that? It's not like the man cared for your well-being, right? it doesn't seem so, the question asked with an almost clinical sort of edge. Like the scientists had when they asked if there were any major concerns with your health, if you'd felt any negative side effects.
Not out of care for your person, but care for what you represented; a subject, something to test on to try and further whatever agenda or project they're assigned to.
"...Yes sir." You croaked out, shaking-- tacking on the honorific should help, yeah? The scientists always made you refer to them as such-- Sir or Ma'am, not accepting anything else. Not accepting no personal address either; that's how you get locked up in solitary for a few hours, to 'learn your lesson about disrespect'.
You were better at it than most, only being placed in solitary twice for the reason of 'disrespecting the scientists' with the lack of it.
The chuckle that followed terrified you, making your entire body lock up-- muscles pulled taut, ready to snap. Spine straight, much like a rabbit ready to bolt;
"Good to know you have manners. That'll make things easier." Your anxiety only worsened-- make what easier? What was he going to do, and how hell was your manners going the help that process?
Finally, he released your chin-- and not a moment too soon. You slumped, not from relief, but from the bone-deep exhaustion plaguing you after everything. Head lolling forward to try and avoid the bright light, you don't know how you're still even vaguely upright-- hell, how you're even still awake. You probably burned off more calories than you've collectively taken in since arriving here.
The world was spinning around you, and that notified you that you consciousness was probably something very, very short-lived. You're sure that, if you do pass out before he does whatever he does; you won't wake up again.
He says something, but the world if muffled around you-- blood rushing in your ears, making it sound like everything was underwater. You came to when he snapped his fingers in your face, it was a warning just as much as it was call for your attention.
You looked up-- or made the move to, only for him to place his hand atop your head, and gently direct you to keep your gaze down. "You'll damage your eyesight. Close them, if that helps any."
He framed it like he was offering it, offering advice-- you shut your eyes, seeing it as what it was. You had no choice in it. Whatever use he wanted you for, he didn't want your vision to be damaged for it.
You don't think the lights would damage your sight-- more just give a pounding migraine, but you do as he says regardless; he could very well just crush your skull in his hand, right then and there-- if he took down so many guards as you think he had.
For once, some higher being smiled upon you; and he moved his hand from your head, and while he was still as close as before, it was a massive weight lifted from your shoulders, not to have him making any direct contact anymore.
"I won't repeat myself again," He started off with, and you tried to show that you were listening-- he stayed quiet afterward, and you realized with a jolt, what he wanted. As soon as you realized, you aid-- almost robotically, "I understand, sir."
A few seconds passed, a heavy weight forming in your heart-- was that not what he wanted? You were tempted to open your eyes to try and see if you could get a read on his face, figure out what he was thinking; if he was about to kill you for some perceived slight.
...But would an angel do that? Even one who killed all these people? If you were still alive, then maybe he was ordered not to kill you. Or, more realistically, not specifically ordered to kill you.
Even if he wasn't an angel of death, if he was just some terrifying super-human or something of the like, he has to work under someone; right? He also said he's got a use for you.
You just hope that you picked up on the implications that he needed you alive for that use.
"Good." The man-- Angel?-- replied, as you hear fabric shifting-- the man moving, whether that be shifting on his feet or reaching into a pocket, you have no idea. "What's your serial code?"
"...I don't know it, sir." You shook-- you really didn't. Well, you didn't remember it off the top of your head, so maybe, if you explained yourself, he'd be more kind... "But if I hear it, then I'll know it's mine."
That can't be of much help. You might've just doomed yourself even worse, tacking on something like that- did he think you were wasting his time? Were you why he'd come here in the first place? That can't be it, you were never that important--
"Would you happen to be Subject 082202?" He asked-- and you recognized the number. Was he really after you? That's... that could go either one way or the either. Hope bloomed in your chest, before smothered by absolute despair.
What did he want with you?
You tried to respond, you really did-- but your voice failed you, wobbling and tried not to cry. You nodded, hoping he'd give you some leniency with it.
Surprisingly, he let it go. Didn't even comment on it-- when he spoke next, he sounded so... not happy, but--
Victorious, you think it'd be. Smug would be your next choice, the emotion in his voice was hard to pinpoint. It was barely there, but without anything else to witness or analyze-- you were stuck with trying to dissect his tone.
"Good, that's good." You heard him shift again-- the sound his shoes made against the tile suggested that he'd crouched down, and and his heavy leather coat shifted, but in what way you couldn't be sure--
More noises, ones that were meant to be quiet-- you weren't supposed to be able to pick on them, but you could. Maybe it was the fear of it all.
Then, his hand was back on your chin. Reflexively, you flinched; but he didn't reprimand you, if anything, his tone suggested that he... cared,
Maybe not for you-- probably for whatever you could do for him, but it was care regardless, and he told you "Stay still."
You did, and felt something place onto your face-- it felt like metal, warmed by a human's natural heat; it felt like a pair of glasses, the arms tucked above your ears, the metal bridge of it resting against your nose--
"Open your eyes, tell me if it's any better." The man said with a firmness that reminded you of the scientists-- or the guards. A strange mix between the two; maybe more like a cop, if you think about it hard enough. A sense of authority, firm but not demanding.
You do so-- the headache is still there, it'd gotten better when your eyes were closed. You find that, when you open your eyes, the world is a little dimmer; the headache doesn't spike as you'd expected due to it.
As you look up at the man, you realize that he doesn't have sunglasses on now-- giving you full view of his...
Yeah. The confirms it; he is absolutely not human. His eyes looked like a snakes, maybe more like a dragons; red with yellow around his slitted pupils-- instead of scaring you as it absolutely should,
It.. comforted you. Against your will, mind you-- a little bit of tension easing out of your form at the sight of them. You don't know why. It should terrify you, it should make you want to run for the hills, like he had when he first showed up--
With his eyes no longer obscured, and your headache a little dimmer, you think that you'd have a better chance at reading the emotions on his face--
He cleared his throat, bringing you back to the present-- to his question he'd had with his earlier command. You try not to test your luck, now able to give out a short, soft "Yes sir."
His hand released your chin again, and with all the energy left in you-- you tried your best not to have your head fall forward from exhaustion, from the loss of the support of his hand. he huffed, shifting a bit-- he was crouching, but no longer leaning in close, leaving you with a little bit of a personal bubble.
A sort of privilege you haven't been afforded in a long, long while. Nobody crowding in your space-- nobody poking and prodding. Just letting you exist. Simply letting you sit there, without anyone breathing down your neck-- unrestrained, able to leave (if you weren't so banged up-- and honest-to-god terrified of the man, but that's neither here nor there) if desired.
You notice now, that there is a suitcase set down by his side-- looking rather innocent. A simple brown leather one, no obvious tells of what could be inside. It looked like one of the head scientists own bag, one you always saw him carrying around. Not trusting to leave it in one place without him present, you'd guessed.
"You're the subject for the Ammit Strain, aren't you?" He asked-- he seemed to already be sure of himself, and it left you confused as to why he's asking you. Because you don't have a solid answer for him-- and that shouldn't have been expected of you to have one.
"Uhm... I-I'm not sure. I don't... know what that is." You half expect his calm, strangely patient, demeanor to change in the blink of an eye-- for his hand to shoot out and grab your neck, and twist until your world went dark. It was irrational (probably), because he said he needs you for something. Even if you don't know what it is, you're pretty sure he needs you alive for it--
it's still up in the air, though. So you don't rely on that assumption for comfort too much.
Instead of that, instead of any violent outburst or sudden shift in his approach-- he seemed to... smile a little at your response. it was small, barely noticeable unless you'd been staring at him for god knows how long--
and, oh boy, have you been staring at him. analyzing him, trying to make sense of it all. as you do, when you're stuck in a strange and scary situation such as this.
"That's alright." He leaned forward, hang outstretched-- it landed on your shoulder, in a strange... friendly sort of gesture. Like a teacher would do as they praise you for an A+ on an assignment. "I know you are."
Then why did you ask? a bold part of you made you want to say-- one you thought had been stomped down a long time ago. During your second stay in solitary, where they kept you in for 6 hours rather than the measly 45 minutes you'd been in there the first go-around.
You kept quiet, hoping that he'd give a bit of an explanation as to-- anything. But you know he probably won't, not without prompting; even then, he might be more inclined to telling you to shut up or dancing around the question then give a truthful answer-- or one at all, for that matter.
He didn't do anything of the sort, the conversation going dead as he stood-- He grabbed the briefcase from beside him, but didn't make any move to turn around.
As he looked down at you, you realized he probably wanted you to stand as well. Torn between telling him that you aren't sure you could do so, and staying quiet as to try and minimize any possible anger-- you simply sat there, unmoving. Terrified, feeling like you'd found yourself right in a damned-if-i-do, damned-if-i-don't sort of situation.
A few moments later, he seemed to realize what your silence, what your immobility signified. He walked around you, standing behind you-- and gave no warning as he leaned down and put his hands under your armpits-- pulling you that way, before maneuvering you in such a way where he could pick you up into a princess carry from there.
Out of pure reflex, you threw your arms above his shoulders-- scared of tumbling over and out of his hold. By the time you realize what you'd done, you were too scared-stiff you amend it.
He... didn't seem to mind it much, though.
The hand held underneath your knee carried the briefcase, the handle digging into your thin grey sweatpants just a tad-- not too uncomfortable, but not ideal. Like hell you were going to say anything about it, though.
As he began to walk, he suddenly asked "What's your name?"
Despite the fear, a slip in your judgement made you let out a little "huh?"
He huffed, his smile growing wider for just a second-- starting to resemble an actual one, before reverting back to the small, almost non-existent smirk he'd had before. "Your name. None of the documents said it, only referred to you as your serial number or the strain."
"Oh." This was so confusing-- he kept walking, letting you two lapse into silence; he wasn't rushing your answer, quite the opposite. He seemed to be letting you... take your time, even if it was such a simple and easy request.
Then, quietly, you said it. Almost as if you were afraid that the scientists or guards would hear, and punish you for it-- it was their way of isolating you from the outside world, telling you to forget who you were before you'd come here.
That you had no other name, nothing else to be called, besides Subject 082202.
The man heard you, though. He hummed in acknowledgement, and in a moment of reckless, almost moronic, bravery-- you ventured to ask,
"What's your name?"
Almost immediately, he answered with "Albert Wesker, but you'd do good not to use it." The name... was familiar, set off even more alarm bells than the man had before you learned of his name.
"...So just keep calling you sir?" What were you doing? Why were you doing this? How stupid were you, to push him like this--
"That's what was implied, isn't it?" He responded, the little edge painting his tone let you know that his patience must've been running thin. You shut up, smothering what you'd wanted to say--I was just making sure.
Something like that would definitely be categorized as disrespect-- to a normal person, and absolutely to the scientists-- which you'd defaulted to treating him as.
As he carried you, exhaustion having taken its toll on you-- your eyes slid shut, head falling forward and resting against his shoulder. Within a few seconds, you were out like a light.
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milkoomi · 2 days ago
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semester success. ᥫ᭡
[ 3 chapter mini series ] | chapter one
in this series, i’m going to teach you all my helpful tips and tricks on how to succeed in the new semester in just 3 quick chapters! get ready to take notes, we’re diving right in!
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chapter two — MASTERING NOTE-TAKING
in the last chapter, we talked about the first week and how to prepare for it! now, we’re going to get real into it and talk about one of the most important skills that can help increase your level of success throughout the semester: taking notes.
class is in session …
୨ৎ — physical or digital
let’s first decide how we’re going to take notes. if you’re the classic/traditional type, a notebook & some pens/pencils & highlighters are the way to go! but if you’re feeling a bit more modernized, grab your laptop and/or tablet!
i personally use my ipad to take notes! i know lots of people who use Notion, create digital documents for their notes, utilize GoodNotes/Notably, and i use this app called CollaNote (more on this later)! if you’re note-taking digitally, find an app or format that works best for you! you can play around with the different apps and tools on your device! digital note-taking also allows for more creativity, in my opinion, but i’ve seen loads of students get really creative with traditional styled notes!
digital note-taking inspo:
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i highly recommend this post by @glowettee if you want a quick, but detailed list of how to get set up for digital note-taking!
physical note-taking inspo:
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୨ৎ — note-taking methods
there’s lots of ways to take notes! that’s the beauty of note-taking, there’s no one right way of doing so or any wrong way of doing so! there’s a variety of ways to take notes, so find and play around with what works best for you!
different methods:
quick notes - the unaesthetic version
you’ll see lots of people say that they rewrite their notes, and i’m one of those people! i typically don’t take notes during lectures (mainly because my ADD doesn’t allow me to lol) but when i’m actually able to take some notes, my in-class writing is just plain bullet points and words scrambled onto my page.
i see “quick notes” as a way of making sure you get all the key points from the lecture without the stress of writing everything else down.
here’s how:
don’t focus on writing every single thing down! this will make you lose track of what the professor might be saying in addition to what’s in the textbook/lecture slides.
focus on the key points! keep an ear out for your professor and if they say something like “this will be on the exam” or “this is really important to know”. those are the things that need to be written down!
remember: you can always go back and rewrite your notes! having just the key points written down will help you 1. stay focused during class and 2. be prepared for what to focus on during your studies.
don’t worry about your notes looking bland or messy, again, you can go back and rewrite your notes to make it look nice and add additional information! this “quick notes” method is for people who are like me and struggle with taking notes during lectures!
** tina’s tip: record the lecture! if you’re able to have your phone out or if your computer/tablet has a recording feature, use it to record the lecture so that when you do go back to rewrite your notes you don’t forget any other important points!
mind-mapping - an organized flow chart
how it works:
start with your central idea or main topic you want to focus on! have this be the center of your mind-map.
when info regarding this topic starts to come up, write them down and connect that additional information with the central idea using lines and arrows.
get creative! use different colors and add images or symbols!
mind-maps are a great way to organize and visualize the information you need to do into a creative diagram! this is a great method for those visual learners!
boxing method - compartmentalizing notes
this method is another great one for visual learners as it allows you to create a chart for yourself and all that you’re learning in class!
how it works:
start by dividing up your page so that you have different boxes set out for you!
include headings/titles for each box and have them relate to each topic you’re learning.
in those boxes, write down key points from each topic and include any and all information as you can!
you can also connect the boxes with lines and arrows to see how all that information flows together and relates to one another!
i suggest going onto @nenelonomh ‘s blog and reviewing her study corner where there’s a section dedicated to different note-taking methods! as well as other helpful academic advice!
୨ৎ — record your lectures
i mentioned this earlier, but i just want to reiterate this point! recording lectures will help you so much with note-taking as it allows you to go back to what was said in class and continue taking notes that way. it’s extremely helpful especially when your teacher/professor is a fast talker and you can’t keep up with note-taking in class!
୨ৎ — color coding
an easy way to make your notes more appealing to you is by color coding everything! feel free to pick your favorite colors and use those!
what to color code:
key points
important vocab/terms
connecting topics
additional notes from your teacher/professor
୨ৎ — CollaNote
i promise this is entirely unsponsored, but i do love this app! it’s completely free (with in-app purchases if you want to unlock other templates)!
it comes with a variety of free tools, pen styles, highlighters, colors for those writing tools (which are also entirely customizable!), page templates, recording feature, and so much more that i can’t fully remember off the top of my head!
it also allows you to organize everything into folders which is really, really nice! organization of your notes is also super important when it comes to note-taking! so let’s get into organization!
୨ৎ — note organization
if you’re taking notes in the traditional way, make sure you have designated notebooks for each class. if you’re using a binder that includes all of your classes, make sure you have those divider tabs to prevent from any of your notes integrating with your other ones!
for digital notes, make sure you have folders or an organized list of links for each of your courses! it’s important that your files are titled accordingly so that there’s less confusion when you need to go back to any of your notes!
going back to note-taking methods, make sure when you’re writing your notes that you stay consistent with your organization!
write your topics in chronological order
create sections for different bits of information
color code
you don’t want your notes to be a jumbled mess! not having some kind of organization system can lead to confusion while studying or unclear information on the topics you’re learning.
before you’re dismissed …
note-taking, as i mentioned at the beginning, is one of the most important skills to have while in school. you want to make sure you have effective notes that will help you understand the material and help you study for upcoming quizzes/exams! just imagine yourself as the main character in a show or movie and think of yourself as this studious and amazing person while taking notes and sitting through lectures! romanticize your academic career!
with lots of love, faustina 🌷
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kxtsukixoxo · 2 days ago
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𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
𓂃۶ৎ: tw: smoking, characters are aged up for obvious reasons, minors dni!, semi public sex
𓂃۶ৎ: IM SO SORRY THIS IS LIKE SUCH A LONG BUILDUP, but i’m a sucker for plot 💔
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•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
“come smoke with me”.
you two hadn’t spoken in days, considering the pileup of assignments you two had, deadlines upon deadlines, nobody knows when any of you had last left your dorms, the stress had finally hit Sero and he decided he needed a smoke break, and of course with his smoking buddy
you immediately said yes, darting out your dorm, leaving your headache and gloominess locked up in there. “took you long enough” scoffing at his remark, you made your way to his stash and rolled up a blunt, Sero leaned against the balcony’s railing eyes studying you carefully, “damn, and i thought i looked fucked up” taking a long puff from your blunt, you blew it in his face as a response to his snarky comment, “goddammit.” “watch your mouth next time, elbows” “can’t promise you that”
Sero scanned your figure, there was no denying you were attractive, even in your worst state possible. hair falling in your face, you paid no attention to it, not bothered to pin it back or do anything about it, it was the least of your concerns, some band t-shirt that you picked up off the floor this morning, the washing hasn’t been done in days, constantly saying you’d do it after your assignments. he could tell you weren’t wearing a bra, your legs bare, hands tempted to slide underneath your shirt and slide your panties to the side
but he couldn’t tell if it was the weed or the sleep deprivation that made you look so tempting right now. “what, is there something on my face?” Sero chuckled and shook his head as he noticed his blunt was getting shorter and shorter
“roll one for me, you’re like a professional” Sero watched you carefully roll the blunt and lick the paper, sealing it shut, you passed him the blunt, shifting your body, your back now against the railing as you blew out smoke, head tilting back
“open your mouth, i wanna try something” he towered over you, pulling onto his blunt, one hand holding your chin, locking eyes with you before he blew the smoke into your mouth, watching you inhale it, eyes shut.
“fuck.”
one. two. three. four.
that’s how many steps it took you, til you were cornered by Sero pressed up against the wall, diving into your curves and leaving hickeys anywhere he possibly could, getting impatient he slid your shirt off your body, forcing his lips to lose contact with your skin, earning a whimper from you. peppering kisses inbetween your chest til he reached your pelvis, “needy, huh?” you could barely make out what he was saying, through the haze from the weed and the breathless pants between each word.
“i’ve been dying to taste you baby” he looked up at you with red half lidded eyes, while he sliding your panties down your legs with one hand, while the other held your waist steady, “Sero what if-“ before you could finish, his lips were already licking up your slit, causing your body to shudder and grab his hair, groans left his throat which reverberated against your cunt. Sero ate you up like he hadn’t eaten in days, drinking up every sound you made as two of his fingers made their way into you, sliding in and out, curling occasionally, causing you to buck your hips against his face. his lips never left your cunt.
just as you were about to cum, Sero removes his fingers from inside you, causing you to whine at the sudden loss of contact. “eyes down at me baby” Sero licked his fingers clean “i want you to cum on my face, hm?” he laid down on the cold tiled floor, waiting for you to follow suite ontop of his face. “are you not uncomfortable?” “that doesn’t matter, get ontop of me querida” (darling)
Sero was pussy drunk, your juices glistening on his chin. and he was already greedy for more, you sat on his face, clit pressing up against his nose while his tongue moved in and out of your cunt. your hand simultaneously moved up to your nipple, playing with it while you rode his face, chanting his name, telling him how good he makes you feel, all that talk has Sero riled up and ready to dumbfuck you til all you can say is his name. he watched you with heavy lidded eyes as your hand moved to your clit while the other pressed against his chest to keep yourself steady. your high approaching faster than expected you came all over his tongue, he lapped you up like a hungry dog. you got off his face while Sero licked his lips appreciatively
“can i throat fuck you?”
the idea had you flustered but you weren’t against it, Sero stood up,back against the railing while his arms rested against said railing. he watched you get on your knees, hands fiddling with the waistband of his shorts while still coming down from your own high. “let me help you baby hm” grabbing a fistful of your hair, he rested his cock on your lips, watching you take it all in for him.
“fuck baby, just like that” whimpers left his throat while you moaned against his cock. you cunt desperate for attention while he thrusted into your throat. your hand made its way down to your clit. “look at you baby, getting turned on just from sucking my cock huh?” you whimpered in response “who’s fucking you this good baby?” you couldn’t respond, tears welled your eyes while he stuffed your throat “answer me y/n.” you looked up at him with tear filled eyes, muffling out his name on his cock. he let go of your hair tapping your cheek in approval “good girl”
“you’ve got a mouth made to suck cock, you dirty girl”
all you could do was mewl against his cock, so drunk off it you could barely even keep your eyes open “fuck i’m gonna cum down your throat baby” thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier, following suite he filled up your throat, pulling out in satisfaction, watching you swallow every bit
sliding his pants back on, he took off his shirt and covered you up while you two held each other, collapsed on his balcony
“you down to do that again?”
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sea-lanterns · 3 days ago
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Okay so your post ab Hen!reader wanting to be a mama to all the babies reminded me of smt where a hen was given baby ducklings to look after
But a key difference btwn chicks and ducklings are chicks aren’t generally safe in water and baby duckies Love It, and so the hen was just concernedly walking around the pond watching her babies have a wonderful time.
Just imagining mama hen having a near panic attack over her more aquatic babies splashing around before someone calms her down that no, they are not dying
Ohhh poor Hen! Reader. Squawking in panic when she sees her adopted duck babies dive headfirst into a pond. Hen! Reader would chase after them if she could, but she’s left scrambling around the edges while Mavuika tries to hold her back.
Omg, what if to help co-parent the ducklings, the farmer brings in Duck! Furina! A small, but very fluffy white duck that is very good at swimming and can ease Hen! Reader’s worried by going in the water with the ducklings. Now Hen! Reader won’t have to worry so much about her babies 😊
…But Mavuika will have to worry about her mate.
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pupslimes · 2 days ago
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don't let me in with no intention to keep me...
what if i wrote porn? i asked, and then proceeded to write 2k words of foreplay instead. whatever i will eventually add onto this. everyone say yay if you like mutual masturbation because hi. it is another weakness of mine. also my beta told me they read all rpf slime in edward twilights voice so. coping with that. also also reader is afab but i kinda wanna make them a trans guy because reasons
..................................................................................
A hand drags you into the house by your wrist, grip tight and warm. You kick the door closed behind you, and not thirty seconds later Charlie has your back against it and his mouth to yours. The grip on your wrist doesn’t soften, instead, it tugs insistently until your arm floats above your head, and he pins it to the door above you, grip tightening almost imperceptibly. A small whine tumbles into your mouth as he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, begging you. Another sigh escapes him as you open your mouth, and you swallow it while you meet his tongue with yours, pressing gently into his mouth. The heat is practically radiating off of him, and the grip on your wrist gets more insistent, as you let him explore your mouth until you absolutely have to breathe. “Char…” you gasp out, sucking in air, the stars that gathered in the edges of your vision slowly dissapating.
He’s in front of you, eyes wide and lips glistening, chest heaving like yours, but still looking like he’s barely stopping himself from diving back in. “Yeah…” he whispers. He stares at you reverently, almost uncomfortably, but you cant find it in yourself to feel anything but excitement.
You grin slightly. “Come back here. Please,”
Charlie chuckles. “Planning on it,” he grins as he dives back in, slamming his mouth onto yours. As cool as he was acting you could feel his body almost trembling with need for you. It was your fourth date, and he’d played the gentleman for weeks now, barely kissing your cheek as a goodbye when he dropped you off at your door each time. When you’d expressed concern before leaving the car at the end of this date, wondering if he liked you or not, he raked a hand through his hair. “That isn’t it. I like you. A lot,”
“Then what is it?”
“I think I like you too much. Like if I touched you I wouldn’t be able to stop.”
You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, not sure whether or not to believe him, and the movement caught Charlie’s eye. He groaned, dropping his head into his hands briefly. “You’re too pretty. I’m trying very hard to be respectful right now, and you’re making it very difficult.”
You made a split second decision, and leaned forward over the center console of the car. “Char,” His breath caught in his throat lightly. “I want you to kiss me. Please,” Charlie’s mouth opened slightly, and he seemed to struggle for words. “Don’t you want to?” you pouted lightly. You knew you were teasing him, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’d been waiting for this man to kiss you for weeks at this point, and you were tired of waiting.
His eyebrows furrowed softly, slight worry evident in his eyes. “Well, obviously. But..” You cut him off, leaning in further and pressing your mouth to his gently. When nothing happened, you started to draw away, but he followed you over, chasing your mouth with his, hands tangling into your hair almost desperately. He pulled you back into him, mouth clumsily latching onto yours again. “Fuck,” was muttered against your mouth as he bit down on the same spot that was just between your teeth. He jolted at your whimper, groaning softly. A glance down confirmed he was already growing in his pants. His cheeks flushed slightly at your gaze. “I told you,” he groaned. “You have no idea what you do to me,”
Not pulling away too far, you gently whispered, “Want to come in?” He leaned in as your breath ghosted over his face.
And that’s how you found yourself now, pressed against your front door, one of Charlie’s hands pinning your wrist and the other on your waist, softly bucking his hips as his mouth trailed hot kisses down your neck. He gnaws at you like a starving man, leaving marks that would surely need to be covered up tomorrow, only seeming to double down each time a noise slipped past your lips.
“Char…ah, baby…” you managed to get out, and he looked to you, eyes hazy. You start working off your shoes. “Couch, right now, please,” He nods, releasing your arm as he toes off his own shoes and bolted down the hall, running like he knew where he was going. You hear him slide to a stop at the end, socked feet rustling against carpet as he spun in a circle, wondering with way to go. Sense of decorum lost, you drop your keys on the wood floor, making note to apologize to your cat later before racing after him. As you round the corner, his arms envelop you again, nose pressed into the crook of your neck.
“Fuck, baby. Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do this?”
“Two months?” you wager a guess, calculating time since your first date.
“Make that three,” It had taken a month for you both to have been in town at the same time after you matched. It turns out getting on dating apps during the holidays to prove to your parents you actually were talking to people didn’t turn out well when you actually wanted to talk to the people. You thank your lucky stars Charlie had held out for you, even if now you knew why.
“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs into your neck, the vibrations sending a shiver down your spine. “Perfect. Wanted to fuck you so bad,” A whimper escapes your lips. “You like that, baby? Like when I tell you how much I wanna fuck you?” A tongue up your exposed collarbone. “Come sit in my lap, sweetheart,” Teeth against the spot where your neck and shoulder met. “You can feel how much I want it,” A kiss on a particularly dark mark on your neck.
You turn the two of you in the direction of the living room, and he takes charge again. You’re suddenly thankful he leads you to the couch and guides you into his lap, legs straddling each side of him. You didn’t think that at this point, you could have done it yourself, knees too weak and legs too shaky at Charlie’s words to get there yourself. “Good baby,” he crooned gently as you settle, and your head falls to his shoulder as you whine again. He chuckled softly. “You sound so pretty when you get all flustered. And it’s so easy yo do it too…I don’t think you’d survive half the things I’ve thought about you,” You shake your head, keeping your face in his shoulder so he can’t see your cheeks warming further. He leans down, and you feel his tongue graze the shell of your ear. “I’m going to tell you all of them anyways,” Your hips buck slightly into his, seeking friction, and you feeel him smile against your skin. “Come back up here and kiss me again,” he murmurd, and obviously you oblige, mouth meeting his. As the kiss grew more and more heated, his hand slips under your shirt, palming gently at your chest.
“Oh, fuck,” you break away, arching into his touch. “Please don’t stop,”
“I can’t,” he breathes, reverently, and slides a second hand onto your skin, rucking up your shirt. “Off. Please. You look so pretty in it but I need it off,” You’d worn his favorite color tonight, hoping he’d notice, and maybe finally have the guts to kiss you this time. You can’t help flushing at the memory now.
You reach down to quickly tug it over your head, hoping the brief cover would hide your burning cheeks. You didn’t need to worry. Before you even had it all the way off, Charlie is mouthing at your chest, sucking hickeys into your tits, spreading his hands over them and tugging at your nipples. “You’re so gorgeous…” he mutters under his breath. You curl fingers into his hair and guid him to where you wanted him, which he was happy to oblige. Red, angry marks smatter across your skin as you gently rock back and forth in his lap, his mouth making its way over you again and again, groans reverberating on your skin occasionaly. There would be no way to hide what had happened tomorrow, as he was incredibly through in his work, making his way up your neck once more, peppering kisses behind your ear when you yelped particularly loudly as he grazed the spot with his mouth. Eventually, feeling rather exposed, your hands drift to the hem of his shirt, and he smoothly tugs it off over his head without missing a beat. Fuck. That was hot. Why was that so hot? You push him back at the shoulders, trying to admire him, but he whineds and turns redder the longer you stare, mouth agape at his toned body. His hair is tousled gently now, sticking up in even wilder directions than it was before you made your way inside.
“Fuck. You’re hot,” Your thoughts echo into the room this time.
“Speak for yourself. Can I please keep touching you?” He strains against your hold. You felt his arm muscles flexing, noting just how easily he could break free from you, and noting the fact that he chose not to, before you nod. You settle for running your hands down his sides as he attacked your chest again, admiring his body through feel alone, digging your nails in whenever a particular spot had you writhing in his lap.
He glances up at you several minutes later, eyes slightly widened, cheeks flushed, panting. “Can you… nghh. Can you touch me? Please?” He guides your hand down, and you feel his pulse in his dick. His head falls into your shoulder as you gently palm it, experimenting with a soft squeeze.
You gulp. “I’ve.. I’ve never…” His head raises from your shoulder and cocks to the side, eyes meeting yours. “I don’t know how to make you feel good. I’ve never touched a cock,” As embarassed as you are, breaking eye contact felt wrong, so you maintain his gaze as you admit to him why you’re so visibly nervous now.
A lazy smile spread across his face. “Can I show you?”
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scoobywrites690 · 3 days ago
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Was going to reread your fics and saw that you are looking for an idea… the airline freaking lost my luggage and it’s day 5 with no news and it sucks ass.
ANYWAYS what if reader also lost her luggage while she’s visiting johnny (pre relationship or maybe they’re just “friends”) and he goes feral seeing her in his clothes?
I’m so sorry that they lost your luggage and that they still can’t find it. Hopefully you get it back, I’m routing for you and your luggage 🤞🏻💕
Anyway though, this request is scrumptious. I love it. In my eyes Johnny’s a bit feral when it comes to anything to do with his partner/crush but you in his clothes 😫 you’re gonna kill the man.
(Btw I don’t really know how the airline deal with lost luggage so I’m not sure how they tell you I’m just making it up as I go)
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Johnny seeing you in his clothes🤭
With the airline losing your luggage as well as multiple other people’s, your annual stay at Johnnys is almost a disaster. But it’s salvaged by the few clothes in your carryon and some of Johnnys old clothes that are a bit snug on him now.
Even though Johnny said it was fine for you to wear as many as you need, you still didn’t want to ransack his drawers. Trying to hold off as long as possible but, it came to the point where you couldn’t keep spraying your clothes down with perfume to mask that they’ve been worn more than once.
So, you gathered up the few worn pieces you had, threw them in the washer and wandered into Johnny’s room to find something to wear. Wandering around in just your underwear was fine at the moment as Johnny had gone to grab some snacks as you were planning to have some sort of movie night together.
Digging through his drawers has you pulling out a T-shirt that you pull over your head, the fabric stopping just at the tops of your thighs. Continuing your search for something for your bottom half.
“Fuck me, lass” is all you heard from the doorway of Johnny's bedroom. And there stands Johnny frozen still in the doorway, with his eyes wide looking like they’re about to pop out his head. As you stand in his room with nothing but an oversized T-shirt on and your lace panties slightly peaking out from the bottom.
"What are ya tryna kill me?" Johnny questions as you scramble around trying to cover yourself.
"I'm so sorry, Johnny" You stamper out "I didn't think you'd be back yet" You explain.
"It's alright, don't apologise. Just cover yourself up I'm beggin ya" Johnny says his voiced sounding strained as adverts his eyes. an obvious tent forming in his trousers.
"You okay Johnny?" You ask a teasing tone to your voice, deciding then and there that you'd test the waters a bit.
"I'm fine" he says almost sounding strained as he continues to look anywhere but at you. refusing to meet your gaze
"Johnny" You say taking a step towards him "I think you've got a problem" You say trying to hold in your laugh as you point to the raging hard on.
"Fuck, yes I know" Johnny's says, his face twisting up into one that could be described as pain "And you're not helping right now lass. Standing there in nothing but my shirt and those sexy little panties, fuck me it's like you're tryna kill me" Johnny says frustration lacing his voice.
You're not sure how it happened. It was all very much a blur but next thing you know you're on the bed, legs spread out wide showing off your pretty little cunt to johnny. He doesn't waste any time before he's diving in for a taste of the things he's been craving.
His tongue instantly glides in between your folds lapping at your sweet sweet juices. his mouth latching onto your clit has your hips jerking up at the sudden sensation. Strong burly arms wrapping around the tops of your thighs soon have that problem sorted, locking you in place so you can't wiggle away from him.
His chin most definitely dripping in a layer of your slick, but that doesn't stop him. he continues his assault. his fingers are able to slide into you so easily. pumping your poor little pussy until your squeezing around his fingers as your orgasm comes crashing down.
But he doesn't let you recover, not even wasting a second before he's pushing your legs back. knees pressed to your chest as he's sliding his tip past the entrance of your weeping hole. a sharp hiss leaving his mouth at the sudden warmth and tightness that engulfs his aching cock.
Hands coming down on either side of your head as he pushes himself down on top of you, folding you in half has him bottoming out inside of you.
"Fuck me, lass" Johnny says through gritted teeth as he pulls his hips back before snapping them back into you, his cock ramming deep inside your pussy.
"If I had known you'd have looked so good in my clothes. I would have had you in them ages ago" Johnny tells you as he lets his head nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His teeth graze at your skin before they're biting down onto the tender flesh that connects your shoulder to your neck.
You can't help but let the lewdest sounding moan escape past your lips. Your pussy clenching in reaction to the sharp pain of the bite.
"Don't do that, darlin" Johnny mutters coming up to meet your gaze "or i'll finish faster than I want to"
"Please Johnny" You whine out "I need it, please"
and that's all it took for Johnny to pick up the pace. His cock rammed in and out at a brutal pace. his tip hitting your cervix with every thrust. the sound of his hips connecting with the back of your thighs fills the room as Johnny bottoms out over and over again. Your pussy clenched so tightly around him that every vein can be felt rubbing against your walls sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
"i'll have you" - "In nothing but panties - "and my shirts" - "All the time" He says between thrust "And I'll fill" - "This pretty pussy" - "Full of my cum" - "Every time" He says as he thrust into you hard a few more times before hes spilling his seed inside you.
(I gave it a quick scan but i haven't properly proof read so i apologise for any mistakes)(not sure if he’s feral enough throughout this so I might have to redeem myself in the future)
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unacknowledgeable · 9 hours ago
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For the SK reader series, will the reader get a love interest?? Because there's something so dark yet hypnotic when u find someone who doesn't want you to change, they accept you as you are, worms and all. Something akin to Hannibal and Will Graham if you get me.
Anyways, just wanted to say your series is so addictive and I can't wait to read more!
Y’know, I've thought about love interests so much this week, because ppl seem very interested in me introducing one and I genuinely can't decide which one I like the most, because I find them all utterly hilarious. 
For the “so what are we” Gothamite, think Mikasa from DeathNote lol. Those are the major vibes I'm getting from them, and I just jotted down some conversations I imagined. I'll just call them the ‘Near Victim Interest’ lol. 
SK!Reader: “I will rip your intestines out through your mouth and dance the night away with them lining my neck”
NV!Interest: “Oh dear god…Baby you promise?”
SK!Reader: “...What?” NV!Interest: “What?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NV!Interest: “That is the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
SK!Reader: “I literally said I was going to split your head in half starting at the throat.”
NV!Interest: “Yeah, exactly.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NV!Interest: “Haha, sweetie is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see- oh i've been impaled.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NV!Interest: (Laid out on the embalming table, having gotten into readers work place) “paint me like one of your crime scenes”
SK!Reader: “How… did you get in here?”
NV!Interest: “Oh the commissioner let me in once I told him we’re dating! Gordy’s so nice, right?”
SK!Reader: “Wha- Gordy?? Wait- we’re NOT dating! I don't even know you!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anyway, one of the other “love interests” I've thought about was someone within the same Elite circles as SK!Readers “Mini-Brucie” persona. 
They’ll probably end up looking at this ditzy, airheaded, charismatic moron and, for just a second, catches a glimpse of how truly calculated the twitch of your lips are, how your eyes flash in cold fury at the touch of hands dragging you around the room, how the precise snap of your words works the room in your favor, intricately crafting every conversion you’ve been dragged into under your control, but never to the center stage.  In the blink of an eye, it’s all gone and they’re left thinking, ‘oh I could make you so much worse.’
 This person basically wants to groom the reader into the next “big bad” of Gotham, or maybe into joining The Court, without realizing just how far off the deep end SK!Reader already is. It’s like trying to teach someone the alphabet, while not knowing they can already read at a college level. 
They want to mold you into the perfect mastermind, able to rival the likes of Batman on wits alone, and wish to chisel at your marbled potential so that they may unleash their magnum opus upon the unwitting populace of Gotham. 
But… you just aren't interested in using your intellect for more than what you are now. You're quite content with operating as you have been, thank you very much. You have no intention of disrupting your meticulously maintained status quo. So, it's safe to say that this is getting proceedingly more frustrating on both sides. This person thinks you're putting all your potential to waste, unaware just how capable you really are, meanwhile you're trying to get this pompous asshole off your back so you can continue business as usual.
And my last love interest idea was diving more into the Jinx aspects of SK!Reader and going full TimeBomb lmaooo 
~Masterlist~
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kirbysdreamlandd · 22 hours ago
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Hiii here's one idea based on the Barnyard Eclipse Mukbang!!!
Martin has a cousin form Croatia that is visiting Canada
She gets introduced to the gang (Mandy and Hamzah) and also the slushys
They all go together to the farm to see the eclipse
Mandy n Martin get one cabin and Hamzah n Y/N another… the whole one bed trope happens 😳
They end up cuddling while talking before sleeping - in the middle of the night he gets awkwardly HARD against her and the smut comes in!!! *cabin fever*🤭
Maybe we should keep it canon that he is a hardcore virgin?!🤨
love ur writing♥️
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Eclipse Mukbang
Hamzah X Y/N (Fem)
word count: 4k - longer than I expected lol, let me know if you want a pt. 2!!
After spending your whole life in Croatia, the European life was getting boring. You’d often caught yourself daydreaming about a change, about traveling somewhere new, somewhere out of the continent.
The last time your cousins visited, they couldn’t stop bragging about their Canadian life. Martin, in particular, was insufferable with his talk about his YouTube channel. He went on and on about “Slushy Noobz” and how his videos with his friend, Hamzah, were getting more and more attention. But as annoying as his boasting was, it kind of influenced you in a way.
So, when Martin randomly offered to fly you out to Toronto, you didn’t even think twice. The idea of leaving everything familiar behind, even just for a little while was too tempting to pass up.
The moment you spotted the signs written in English and French, it finally settled in: You had just flown a full 12 hours from Croatia to Canada to visit your cousin and his girlfriend.
By the time you checked into your hotel and began to unpack, your phone buzzed with a text from Martin.
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Ah, right.
You’d completely forgotten that you agreed to be in one of Martin’s next vlogs. His pitch being “You’re just as stupid as us, the Slushies are gonna love you!”. And somehow, in a moment of weakness you’d said yes.
But what Martin hadn’t mentioned was that he’d booked an Airbnb for everyone to stay in. You sighed, staring at your neatly unpacked suitcase. Tomorrow’s paid-for room was now destined to sit empty while you stayed with your cousin and his friends in whatever far countryside of Ontario he deemed “So Eclipse mukbang coded”.
Oh well. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to making videos. Back when you were both kids, you and Martin used to make YouTube videos together sneaked away into your rooms during family gatherings. They were the kind of chaotic nonsense only 10 to 12-year-olds could conjure up, that’s why years later that channel was wiped off the website, never to be seen again.
Just as you were coming to terms with the Airbnb situation, another text from Martin popped up on your phone. He casually mentioned that Mandy and Hamzah would be joining and that “for the sake of the bit” Martin and Hamzah were gonna share a queen-sized bed while you and Mandy would have to do the same. You sighed, setting your phone down before diving onto the hotel room’s neatly-made bed.
As much as you tried to downplay it, you always enjoyed Martin’s company. Sure, he could be overwhelming at times, but dealing with his shenanigans was mostly fun. The two of you had a sense of unbounded silliness that you shared with no one else. While you usually kept that side of yourself hidden around most people, Martin always brought it out of you. With him, you didn’t feel the need to filter your humor or tone down yourself. It was an unspoken agreement between you two. A family bond of sorts.
-
The next day you met in Martin’s car, which was oddly being driven by his friend Hamzah, and you squeezed into the backseat.
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Hamzah.” The brunette said looking at you through the rear view mirror, his thin glasses reflecting your face as you awkwardly waved in response.
From Martin’s description and based on his usual group of friends, you had expected Hamzah to be just as obnoxious. But, to your surprise, he gave off a surprisingly calm vibe. His polite introduction almost catching off guard.
“Yeah. He’s my other half” Martin chimed in grinning as he reached a hand on Hamzah’s thigh only for it to be quickly swatted away.
The two eventually started recording. After a series of exaggerated pouts and baby voices from your cousin, Martin’s girlfriend was reluctantly handed the camera, clearly giving in just to put an end to the obscenity of Martin’s pleads.
As they started talking, you noticed a subtle shift in Hamzah’s demeanor. His voice took on a slightly higher pitch, and he became noticeably more talkative. You understood the concept of putting on a persona, but you couldn’t help but wonder if, deep down, he was just as silly as you and Martin, if his videos made his truest self come out.
“So, you’re probably wondering who this is,” Mandy said as the camera flipped to face you. You froze, giving it an awkward deer-in-the-headlights stare.
“And yes, guys,” Martin interrupted from the backseat, leaning into the frame, “She is my girlfriend.”
Mandy gasped, swiveling the camera to capture Martin’s overly confident smirk, which faded fast under her glare. The whole car was quickly filled with an awkward atmosphere until Hamzah broke the silence with a stifled laugh.
“She’s your cousin, Martin, oh my god” She complained, panning the camera back to you with a defeated look on her face as though she was considering being single again. You scrunched your nose back to her, as a way of giving her your condolences.
“I’m Y/N. Martin’s cousin,” You introduced yourself, giving the camera a deadpan look. “And yes, I am unfortunately related to him.”
From the driver’s seat, Hamzah let out a low chuckle. You caught his amused glance in the rearview mirror. You spotted Martin’s pouting at the camera from the corner of your eye.
“So guys,” Martin cut in, clapping his hands together, reverting the audience’s attention back to him. “Right now, we’re on our way to the Airbnb—”
“—Brokeback Mountain Airbnb.” Hamzah interjected dryly, eyes on the road.
“The Brokeback Mountain Airbnb— where we’ll be both sleeping together in the same bed!” Your cousin announced with way too much enthusiasm to the camera. Mandy groaned audibly, leaning back to create as much distance as possible between herself and the camera.
As the drive neared its end, the car turned onto a quiet gravel road. Up ahead, a cozy lodge came into view, the air carrying a blend of woodsmoke and the earthy scent of barn animals, reminding you of the rustic surroundings.
Approaching the entrance of the house, Hamzah pulled out his phone to text the owner.
“Jesus, there’s barely any signal.”
“Hey, get off your phone,” Martin said, his voice teasing. Mandy pointed the camera at him, capturing his exaggerated performance. “Enjoy nature, man.” he added, spinning around dramatically in the air.
That’s when Mandy stopped the recording as Hamzah, too focused on trying to find a way to access the Airbnb, didn’t bother to pay attention to Martin’s antics.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Hamzah muttered after a while, tucking his phone away into his pocket. “I guess we could just start eating.”
You left Hamzah and Martin as they wandered toward two stray chairs they’d found just outside the farm. The camera, Popeyes chicken, and those stupid eclipse glasses in hand.
You and Mandy had agreed to avoid participating in the mukbang and eat in the car earlier. Maybe it was a bit out of spite: you couldn’t help it as the guys stared at you with hunger in their eyes while you devoured your chicken, still insisting they were gonna have to wait until they get to the Airbnb to start the “Mukbang”.
You realized you and Mandy got along better than expected—your shared love for animals and the casual shit-talking behind the guys’ backs bonding you. As you left the kids to play, you decided to take a stroll around the farm, bumping into a tall man with leather gloves and a broom in hand. He introduced himself as the owner and, much to your delight, offered to show you the barn animals. You told him you’d wait for the guys to catch up, and he handed you the house keys before walking off. Both of you giggled at the thought him encountering the two guys hunched over their chicken in the middle of his yard while filming a YouTube video.
Once inside the house, you and Mandy headed to the first bedroom you found. The room was cozy, with a large bed and a homely vibe you both loved. You tossed your bags on the bed and settled in, chatting and making yourselves comfortable.
But as the two of you were discussing about how much money adopting an alpaca would cost you, Mandy began sneezing more and more frequently. She sniffled, rubbed her nose, and you noticed her eyes started to water.
“Mandy, you okay?”
“I don’t know. I might be allergic to something here,” she replied, her voice a bit stuffy. “My throat is itching.”
You looked around, trying to figure out what could be causing the problem. That’s when your eyes landed on the large framed picture above the bed. It was a beautiful floral arrangement, but those colorful flowers were as beautiful as they looked like they were likely to cause an allergic reaction.
“Are you allergic to some type of flower?” you said, pointing above you. “It might be that frame over there.”
Mandy sneezed again, looking miserable. “Ugh, this is so bad.”
Without wasting any time, you helped Mandy pack up her things. “Come on, let’s change rooms.”
You grabbed the keys and led her out, making your way to the second cabin. The other bedroom was much more spacious, you realized it was probably the one the guys booked for themselves to sleep in.
“Oh well. They’re gonna have to take the floral one” You said as you set you things to the side of the bed, taking a seat on the colorful bedsheets. Mandy thanked you, while she got remaining sniffles out with the tissues you gave her.
You were both laying flat on the bed relaxing when the light reflecting into the room began to dim, Mandy tilted her head, noticing it too. Curious, you stood up from the bed and walked over to the window. Peering out, you spotted the two guys who had brought you here, standing behind a camera and exclaiming excitedly at the sky.
“They grow up so fast.” Mandy commented, her eyes darting over the two figures in the distance before walking over to the opposite window, her phone propped up to take a picture of the eclipse happening in front of her.
“Careful, you’re looking at it with no glasses on” you teased, mimicking Martin’s exaggerated tone. Mandy responded with her usual deadpan stare that she usually reserved for your cousin.
Once she finished taking her pictures, you both decided to step out and meet up with the guys. The sky was already fading back to normal as they wrapped up their mukbang. The chairs were deserted, but Martin and Hamzah were still nearby, camera in hand.
“Did you see that, Mandy?” Martin called out enthusiastically walking toward you, his glasses still on, making him look as ridiculous as it was the over-excited energy he greeted his girlfriend with.
“That was actually beautiful, man” Hamzah added, carrying empty Popeyes boxes and a tripod with ease as he started heading back toward the cabins with the rest of you.
You filled them in about the allergy situation, and they quickly agreed to switch rooms. Martin made sure to announce the plan to the viewers, turning the camera back on.
“Okay, so, we got a smaller room for us,” Martin narrated, zooming in on the bed before panning to Hamzah’s unimpressed expression as he scanned the space. “But that’s okay. It’ll bring us even clos—”
His words were abruptly cut off by the anticipation of a loud sneeze, his left hand flying up to his nose as he sniffled. “Damn, big-ass sneeze” Hamzah teased, taking the camera from Martin so he could grab a tissue.
But the sneezing didn’t stop. Each sniffle grew louder and slimier, making Hamzah let out an audible “eugh” as he watched his friend’s mucus drip onto the tissue.
“God, I might be allergic to lilies too” Martin joked weakly, before Mandy demanded he evacuated the cabin. After stepping outside for a while, Martin’s sneezes started to ease, confirming your and Mandy’s suspicions.
“Aw, we’re united by allergies too!” Martin said dramatically, wrapping his arms around Mandy, who, despite being restrained by his hug, let a tiny smirk slip across her usual stoic face.
“Shit, this is complicated,” Hamzah muttered, sighing as he gestured toward you and Mandy“We can’t switch rooms with you again.”
He bit his bottom lip, frowning in frustration, before glancing at you. Silence stretched on as you and Hamzah shared an awkward stare-off, both silently acknowledging the inconvenient situation.
“I’m sorry,” Mandy gave you both an apologetic look as she wiggled out of Martin’s restraint “We could ask for the flowers to get removed…”
But that last sentence hung in the air, heavy with a shared hesitance among all of you.
“It’s fine” You and Hamzah both said at the same time, voices overlapping in different paces but carrying the same tension.
Mandy and Martin didn’t seem to have any objections, leaving you and Hamzah to share a one-bed room.
In the quiet of your cabin, an unspoken tension between you and Hamzah grew as you were settling into the once-again changed room. Even when you were doing something as simple as unpacking your belongings, every movement seemed amplified, making you both extremely aware of each other’s presence. Hamzah glanced over, clearly trying to keep things casual.
“You good with that side?” he asked, motioning to the bed as he set his phone and retainer on the nightstand.
“Oh, yeah.” you replied, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. You busied yourself with unpacking your pajamas, desperately avoiding his gaze.
Rummaging sounds came from his side as he fought with the zipper of his backpack, his voice breaking the silence again.
“This your first time in Canada?”
“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at him while you finished setting your things on the small wooden vanity. “First time anywhere outside Europe, kinda nervous.”
Hamzah shared a laugh with you, his shoulders easing as the tension in his chest seemed to slowly settle.
“Well, welcome to America, I guess. Though, as an immigrant, I’d advise you to go back when you still have the choice.” Hamzah’s tone remained the same, the last serious remark slipping out with a half-smile, as if it hadn’t been meant to land too heavily.
His hands fumbled with the things in his backpack, pulling out a crumpled receipt and some loose papers before setting it aside with a quick motion.
He then got up and walked around the bed over to your side, stopping in front of the door, something small clutched in his hands. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes but stopping to turn towards you.
“Wanna come outside?” he asked, his gaze catching yours, what seemed like a lighter being shuffled around in hand. His dark eyes lingered a bit, scanning over your face a couple of times, as if searching for something or perhaps just your reaction.
“Sure” you said, your voice steady despite the sudden rush of the moment. Without thinking, you dropped your things, completely unaware that you had left your phone behind.
You followed Hamzah outside, your gaze fixed on the back of his head, as if trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. The air outside was cool, and the silence between you both felt oddly comfortable.
You found a bench just outside the cabin, the stone wall behind it covered in vines and delicate flowers that made it look like it was straight out of a fairytail. But as Hamzah lit his cigarette, and cloud of smoke curled up into the air, you were pulled out of that very magical feeling.
“Want one?” Hamzah asked, catching your gaze on his cigarette.
You shook your head. “No, thanks,” you replied, your voice almost reflexive.
For a moment, you hesitated, a thought almost slipping from your lips. You were about to say “I stopped that years ago” but quickly shut the thought down. It felt like the kind of thing that might open up a conversation you didn’t feel right to have in that moment. Instead, you let the silence stretch a bit longer, the smoke hanging filling the air you two were sharing.
The sky had softened into deep blue hues, casting everything in muted shadows. Hamzah’s sharp features caught the soft glow of the unfolding moon, you watched the spirals of smoke blown out of his lips drift upward before dissolving into the night.
“I thought I finally stopped, you know,”Hamzah’s low voice broke the silence, a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.
You glanced over at him. He was already looking at you, though his gaze seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t meant to get caught. The cigarette dangled between his fingers, its ash tumbling to the ground below.
“Still, I carry a pack in my backpack,” he admitted, his tone hollow. “Guess I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
A humorless chuckle slipped out of him. His eyes dropped to the ground, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. For a moment, you noticed the subtle tremor in his fingers.
Hamzah caught the way your eyes lingered on his trembling hand. His jaw tensed, and he lifted the cigarette for another drag, faking nonchalance.
“I’m only smoking ‘cause of nerves,” he muttered, the smoke curling from his lips. “This bed situation has been making me a bit…” He trailed off before biting the inside of his cheek. His words swallowed by hesitation.
“It’s hard to stop,” you admitted, your voice low but steady. “I mean, I’ve been there. Quit, started again, quit again… It’s a never-ending cycle.”
The words tumbled out of your mouth like a landslide, a reflexive need to reassure him colliding with an undeniable sense of relatability. Hamzah caught your gaze from the corner of his eyes, his expression softening, steady and quiet, as if he was carefully holding onto every word. When you fell silent, though, he didn’t look away. His expression seemed to be expectant, like he wasn’t yet ready for you to stop talking.
You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your coat. “Anxiety is something you have to battle, not cope with.”
The sentence hung in the air, heavier than you intended. Your tone came out too even, you almost worried it sounded cold. But the words were real—every bit of them was something you truly meant, words you wished someone had said to you when you were struggling too.
Hamzah’s silent response should’ve been unnerving, but it wasn’t. In fact, the way he looked at you, earnest, almost patient, made you feel oddly grounded. He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips tugging into a soft smile. It wasn’t a defeated one this time, but something warmer, more genuine. “That’s true” he said simply. But it didn’t feel like just an agreement for you, it was an affirmation that every bit of your words actually mattered.
But before you two could add anything more, Martin’s voice cut through the quiet night.
“Hey, we’re about to go eat dinner!” Your cousin exclaimed, walking over to you, car keys jingling in his hand. “You guys coming or…?”
“Just give me the keys, man.” Hamzah groaned as he stood up from the bench, a soft grin peeking through his rough act, swiftly catching the keys thrown his way by Martin.
In the car, you caught Hamzah’s gaze more than once. His eyes shifted between the road and brief glances at you, his steady expression almost as if he were ensuring both the drive and you were under control.
You dined at a Chinese restaurant in the area, despite you and Mandy’s earlier talk about wanting to try Ontario’s traditional country dishes. Hamzah had scoffed at the idea, insisting there was no such thing, and if there was, it wouldn’t be worth tasting.
During your second round of sushi rolls, Martin, mid-attempt to hit the ending scene “Wicked”high notes, accidentally knocked over a bowl of hot soup. The contents spilling all over your light blue dress. Though the soup wasn’t boiling hot, Hamzah moved quickly to catch the bowl and then proceeded to dab at the stain with tissues while Martin apologized profusely. You laughed it off, even if the damp spot on your stomach left you trembling during the walk back to the car, the chill of Canada’s cold air biting at your wet skin.
Clutching your coat tightly in a futile attempt to warm yourself, you shivered visibly. Hamzah noticed immediately and leaned toward you. “You okay?”
“Just give her your jacket already” Mandy scolded, peering over Martin to shoot Hamzah an annoyed look.
Hamzah shrugged off his jacket without a word, holding it by the shoulders as he hovered it behind you. The awkward silence stretched long enough to make you wonder if you were supposed to laugh or not, but his steady expression made you quickly slip your arms through the sleeves, the jacket settled warmly around you, its length arriving to your thighs.
His hands brushed against your shoulders as he adjusted the coat, patting it into place with a casualness that made you undeniably flustered. But despite the warmth left on the coat from Hamzah, you found yourself longing for the heat of his hands on your shoulders, a thought you tried to brush off throughout the whole walk.
As you made your way back to the lodge, the chilly, pine-scented air wrapped around you, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns decorating the vine-infested walls. The chirping of crickets seemed to sing you a gentle welcome.
“Look at the stars!” Mandy exclaimed, elbowing Martin, a finger pointing up above. The group came to a halt, all turning your heads upward as one.
Above you was a sky so clear and full of stars it was hardly comparable to the light-polluted streets of Toronto. You stood still for a moment, mesmerized by the view, while Martin silently pulled out the camera.
“There’s the Big Dipper” you said while pointing toward a constellation, tracing its shape with your finger. The others squinted, following your gaze. “See? That’s the handle, and there’s the body.”
Hamzah stopped squinting to turn to the camera with a big confident smile, one that practically screamed a stupid joke was about to come out of his mouth.
Hamzah tilted his head, squinting at the stars. “Bro, the Big Dipper is what I get at Dave’s Hot Chicken, know what I’m sayin’?”
His terrible attempt at comedy was met with two deadpan stares, as expected, from both you and Mandy. Martin the other hand stifled a laugh, but quickly collected himself, turning the camera around to film himself.
“I don’t know, guys, the only beautiful star I see is the one right next to me.” Martin said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend and pulling her close. Mandy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she reached out to rest an arm on his back.
Hamzah groaned, his eyes flicking back to the sky.
“Little Dipper’s right there, right?” He leaned in closer, his gaze following yours, hand extending to point up at the stars. “Though I call ‘em Ursa Minor and Ursa Major. Never heard of Lil’ Dipper.”
Hamzah joked, mocking your knowledge of astronomy, which made you elbow his side in frustration.
“Oh, but I’m sure you know all about Lil Yeat, right?” You shot back, your tone confident.
But you were met with a burst of laughter exploding from him, his dry chuckles paired with his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He wiped at his eyes, struggling to catch his breath. “Did you say Lil Yeat?” he gasped breathless.
You rolled your eyes as Hamzah tried to control his laughter, his hand rubbing his face frantically as he struggled to compose himself. He really didn’t have to mock you twice in a row, especially when the first joke was based on something you clearly had more knowledge on, and the second one being about a rapper’s name, one that you really couldn’t cared less about.
Hamzah hadn’t stopped teasing you about it, repeating “Lil Yeat” to Martin, who had the same, in your opinion, exaggerated reaction. The jokes carried on all the way to the cabin, where you two found yourself in after being ditched by the couple, who had conveniently decided they needed some “private time.”
“I’m gonna make you a Yeat fan one day, mark my words” Hamzah declared, locking the door behind him. That teasing smirk he’d been wearing all evening was still firmly in place.
“Can’t wait” you replied dryly, heading straight for the bathroom. You unpacked your cosmetics onto the small, cramped counter and began sorting through your skincare essentials. Just as you settled into your nightly routine, Hamzah started hovering in the doorway, holding a moisturizer and toothpaste. You quickly interjected his request to borrow some of your skincare products, cutting him off with a sharp look, but his insistent nudging came back the moment you pulled out a new product.
“Why not? There’s no way I can fit mine in this tight of a space anyway.” he whined.
“That’s what she said,” you muttered, dabbing your pricey Tatcha moisturizer onto your face.
The night passed quickly as the two of you argued over who had to take a piss the most all the way toplayfully shoving each other to claim the impossibly tiny sink.
When you finally made it to bed, you were relieved to find it wasn’t as small as you’d feared. Though not too spacious, it fit both of you well enough under the heavy blankets.
“Holy shit—your foot!” Hamzah suddenly yelped, jerking his leg away when your icy toes brushed against his calf. His warmth was so inviting, though, that you couldn’t help but inch closer.
Without warning, you extended your leg again, letting your foot rest against what you quickly realized was his thigh.
“Oh my god—“ Hamzah groaned as your heel pressed into his skin. He flinched but didn’t pull away immediately, giving you just enough confidence to push further.
Smirking, you placed your foot completely flat onto his thigh, his body warmth radiating like a heater to the entire sole of your foot.
“You better stop.” he threatened through chuckles, his leg jerking involuntarily as his hand darted out to grab your ankle. You yelped, trying to jerk your leg free, but his hold only tightened, restricting your movement. In a burst of resistance, you pushed forward with more force than you intended.
The sudden motion sent him lurching forward, his chest subtly pressing against your back. You both froze, the laughter still caught in your throat as you felt the fabric of Hamzah’s shorts tickling your thigh.
You quickly turned into a flushed mess, your face heating up as you felt a firm bump against your backside, Hamzah’s breath quickening against your ear.
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agentromanoffsir · 2 days ago
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building community on the indie web - neocities guide part 2
neocities is a free hosting website that lets you build your own html website from scratch, with total creative control. neocities is part of the indie web, but certainly not all of it!
If you're looking to get started with the nitty gritty of neocities, i recommend checking out my neocities guide part 1 :) part 2 is focused on forming a community & making connections.
why join neocities/the indie web?
by building your own site, you have the freedom to make whatever cool shit you want. no limits, no censors, no masters. just you and your website. connect with people or just tend to your own virtual garden, the choice is completely yours.
okay. you have a site. now what?
do you want to build & foster a free web community? here's some things you can do or add to your site to start making connections
create a button for your page
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making a button for your site is a great way to connect with other indie web users! site buttons are usually 88x31 pixels and should be easily located on your site.
many users create collections of site buttons, or web neighborhoods. this is an easy way for you to remember & share your favorite sites! remember, we're not working with an algorithm here.
hekate button maker
sadgrl button maker
lynn button maker
join a web ring (or clique)!
web rings were created in the 90s, before google, as a way for websites to link to one and other. web rings are often themed so you can find like-minded people with ease, but they don't need to be!
once you join a web ring, you add a snippet of code to your site so when people "hop along" the web ring they'll discover your page.
brisray's webring list has an enormous list of mostly active web rings you can check out. here are some examples!
melonland surf club
hotline webring
wiiring
no ai webring
journalring
west of weird: gravity falls webring
ficring
join a pixel club!
starting in the 2000s, pixel clubs are a great way for people to create & share art with each other. pixel clubs tend to follow a theme & provide base art for each user to customize however they want. for example, in the afternoon tea pixel club each user creates a unique tea cup.
fizzy vendor
charm bracelets
teeny towers
sticker sheet club
kitty friends
lava lounge
participate in one of 32-bit cafe's web events!
32-bit cafe is a community of web-hobbyists enthusiast about making the web fun again. they periodic events challenging participants to create a site page following a certain a theme or guidelines, like their new years eve event or 2024 halloween.
more past events
create adoptables, pixels & a toy box
one popular thing that people will do is create adoptable pixel art that others can add to their page! people will often put all of the adoptables that they've collected into a "toy box."
(protip: etiquette requires you to hyperlink back to the original source site whenever you add new graphics to your toybox. it's just polite!)
hillhouse pixels
inkcaps toybox
appledust adoptables
blanket fort adoptables
whimsical graphics
create web graphics (and a "for you" graphics page)
when browsing personal sites, you'll often see "graphics for you" pages! these pages are full of graphics/fun stuff that you can add to your own site for free. yes, free baby! just link back to the og or give credit when requested.
making a page for graphics is cool! making graphics is cool!! indulge your creativity! share fun stuff! some things you can create:
make blinkies
dive into geocities and rescue old graphics
create stamps
make gifs
make pixel art
other interactive stuff
create a poll
create a chat box
create a guestbook
last thing to remember kids... always avoid hotlinking! (hotlinking is when you add images to your site using a link instead of downloading it and uploading to your own website)
as always, say hi to me on neocities!! :)
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laswells-ashtray · 3 days ago
Note
This is me humbly asking you to write more autistic Kate at your convenience
There is no space for humility here. If you swan dive into my ask box, you do it with confidence and the clown shoes they provide at the door.
Kate is bad for when watching movies with Sarah, ripping the film apart.
"I don't get this, he's expecting something stupid."
"Why?"
"He expects her to know something without telling her."
"Because he wants her to know him well enough that she can assume what he needs."
"He's expecting her to play mindreader and then punishing her for not knowing what to provide him, it's stupid."
"But the movie requires on the miscommunication to work, it relies on it."
"It's stupid, if a movie requires miscommunication on a man's part then the premise is idiotic and it should never have been made."
"..."
"Sorry, did I ruin it?"
"No, you're right and now I don't like this movie either. Back to JFK."
She'll ask Sarah to make the same meal twice a week for months and she's very apologetic about it. Sarah doesn't mind but she never makes it without Kate asking first because she knows one day Kate will stop asking and she won't ask again for a year or two.
She sticks to minimal jewellery, if she wears too much or she wears it and finds herself overstimulated then she needs jewellery that she can remove quickly. Once, she snapped the chain of a necklace in an effort to get it off quickly while on the field and she was so ashamed to admit to John what happened when he rounded the corner to find her holding the broken one.
He took it and the next time she saw him face to face he returned it, repaired with a herringbone chain, one that's smoother on the skin and with a clasp that's easier to function with.
They never talked about it but he did find a new box of the good quality, expensive cigars waiting for him on his doorstep when she returned home.
She also has a shirt. It's her shirt. It's her wear it as much as possible until the fabric is worn and tearing shirt which isn't a problem because she bought two more of them after wearing the shirt for the first time. The tags are cut off all three of them.
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curiosity-killed · 2 days ago
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curio's chaotic guide to corralling brain squirrels ✨for Capitalism✨
obligatory disclaimer: my only qualifications are having lived with Cocaine Squirrels In My Brain for my entire life and getting the fun experience of people regularly telling me "you can't have adhd, you're too organized/successful/put together" meanwhile i am regularly held captive by my brain zooming through deep dives on cicada facts at 1 AM on a work night
first off, the general overarching bits:
Come in at 70%. I tell this to literally everyone and am stealing it from my sister, but basically—don't come into your job at 100%. That 100% will be taken for granted by you and your coworkers and become the expectation, meaning when you have a day where the brain is holding you hostage or you're tired or hungover or for whatever other reason can only give 50%, it will be a crisis. Come in at 70%, so 50% isn't a huge deal and you can whip out the 100% for some special sparkle times.
Embrace the good bits. look, lbr. cocaine squirrels are not a great time, generally speaking, in a corporate 9-to-5 space. BUT sometimes there are perks. for instance, I am the person you want in a (corporate) emergency because the right pressure (and coffee and high BPM music) makes the squirrels band together and pull some damn good shit off in crunch time. whatever quirk you feel you can leverage, do it.
okay now more squirrel-corralling thoughts (am I doing this instead of my actual job? obviously.)
build a system of systems
okay i know if I say anything about a planner or to-do list, I will be shot on sight but. well. this is about planners and to do lists
I am a chronically aspirational planner user. I love the concept of planners. love to have such a tidy and organized way of going about life. And I can use planners—for about 1-3 months at a time, max.
what I've found works best for me is to have kind of a rotation of task tracking systems: sometimes my planner*, sometimes sticky notes plastered across my desk/wall, sometimes color-coded to do lists in an actual notebook, sometimes color-coded to do lists in my dry erase notebook, sometimes notes on my computer.
I don't think it super matters what you use so much as it matters to have things in place that you can swap to when your brain stops liking the one you're using
*this isn't an ad but I rlly like the Rocketbook planner specifically because it doesn't have a timeframe, so you don't have to worry about "wasting" it during the months you're not using it. just wipe it down and start fresh whenever it's back to being useful
agree to slightly more than you should (but watch out!)
if i have a normal workload, the effort it takes to make myself Do The Thing goes up by about 50% with a negative relationship to the quantity of work. ergo I am best off if I am just slightly overutilized—if I have about 9 hours of work to do rather than 8. That doesn't mean I always work a 9 hour day (because the squirrels and I fucking hate that) but it means there's just a little additional pressure to help make it easier for my brain to, y'know, execute.
THAT SAID, it is really easy to fuck this up. don't be like me and wind up basically doing an entire contract solo (that was supposed to be a 9-person team)!!! it's bad!
mostly i think this is trial and error, so figuring out the right balance for yourself will take getting it wrong some of the time.
the squirrels crave that novelty
this is also related to the first point, but I've found I get more done if I let myself bounce between projects/tasks more than probably makes sense to people who aren't possessed by manic rodents in their brain.
I try to break down tasks in a way that lets me cross something off (dopamine! or. something??) and lets me skip over to something different/novel as a break (e.g., today I need to copy edit a bunch, draft some appendices for a different project, and create an autopopulating tab for an internal project—so I copy edited one whole section, skipped over to the appendices to get a first pass down, hopped back to the next section of copy editing, and then switched to the internal project).
too much of this can feel like playing pinball with your brain, but giving myself the option to switch out into something different helps keep me from getting into the Dreaded Tedium Stage of things
flexibility and structure
this is going to depend some on your work structure, but use what flexibility you can. My work offers a flex schedule, meaning I can take a four hour break in the day as long as I make those hours up somewhere else. I don't. necessarily recommend?? taking a 4 hour break BUT sometimes the squirrels unionize and demand I vacuum the living room, and trying to ignore it and work will be infinitely slower and more exhausting than if I just get up and vacuum and then get back to work. other times, the squirrels stage a sit-in protest and i am stuck scrolling tumblr aimlessly or re-reading fanfic for no reason and then at 8 PM they decide they actually are willing to do The One Goddamn Task i absolutely must do.
it sucks and I genuinely really hate this part of ADHD, but the best option I've found is to sometimes let them win in the moment and come back to the challenge/ask at a better time (for instance, my energy/focus tends to be worst in the afternoon and much better in the evening, so it's easier for me to get something done in the evening than fighting squirrels all afternoon).
...and on the flipside, where you can impose some self-made structure, it can also help get the squirrels in line. calendar holds (i.e., putting an event on your calendar that's just for a task/project and turning on do not disturb for notifications) can help with this if you're able to stick with them (ime this is a skill that has to be built and practiced), organizing things by 'must do' vs 'quick wins' can help, etc. as with everything, it's a process, but finding a balance between where you can flex and where you can lean on structure to help you along has been beneficial to me
anyway idk if any of this is new or helpful but my personal squirrels have been sated and i do. unfortunately. actually need to work now kbye
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satureja13 · 5 hours ago
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Jeb picked Sai up after his shift and they headed upstairs to the game room of Moogie's Bar. Sai was excited. Will Jeb watch the stars with him like Jack and Vlad did? How romantic!
But they walked past the loveseat with a view. Sai: "Hm? What is it then?" Jeb: "Look around the corner."
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Sai: "My gaming corner?! How did you get all my stuff here?" Jeb: "I asked Noxee to sent it."
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Jeb knows how much Sai needs his alone time. Jeb: "Since you don't have a room for yourself here on board, I thought you'd like to have a space of your own. Where you could do your computer stuff in peace. No one will disturb you here." Sai: "Omg Jeb! This just feels like home far away from home!"
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Sai: "Thank you."
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Jeb: "I'll leave you alone now. Have fun!" Sai: "Oh, I will!" All the things he can do now! The only computers on board are in the community areas or at the bridge - and there's always commotion. This corner migh be small, but it's quiet and no one will come up here once they'd started the engines and there's nothing to see out there except for the dark-greyish subspace. This is heaven for Saiwa. And Jeb made it happen.
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Except - Sai didn't have fun. Did Jeb just shove him away? Stored him in the furthest corner of the ship? Sai knows how much Jeb wanted him to move into his apartment at their home in Tomarang. Did he change his mind? Sai knows Jeb too well, he probably thinks he's not good enough to be with him - again... Because Sai wants nothing more than to loose his virginity to Jeb - but Jeb can't give him what he craves.
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After Jeb left Sai to have some fun in his new computer corner, he went over to his best friend, Kiyoshi. To pour his heart out.
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But he's busy with Jack... again... Jeb: "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll leave." Kiyoshi: "Don't worry. Stay."
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And of course Sai was right. Even after being together for so long and after talking about this so often - Jeb still thinks Sai is too precious for him... But luckily Sai's oldest friend, Jack, is here. Jack knows how much Sai loves Jeb and that he can't live without him. Sai will never give up. Neither Jeb - nor his plans to finally lose his virginity - to Jeb. And: Jack also knows that the solution for their problem is already in the works. But also - as hard as it is for 'Big Snout Jack' - he can't spill the beans ö.ö So even though it's killing him inside, Jack said: "Don't worry, Jeb. Some things you just can't force. And there's nothing you can do than to just sit it out, hm? Have faith." (TMI: This is actually one of the hardest things for me. Learn more about this (imo) important topic -> here) Jeb: "Uhm, ok..." Kiyoshi seems a bit stunned by Jack saying words of wisdom. But even this happens from time to time :3
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Meanwhile Sai left his new gaming corner. He can't just sit around here and do his computer stuff in peace - he's a man on a mission. He went to their quarters - to find them empty. So he took the chance to take a bath to play with the toys again. Soon he'll be ready for Jeb's 'wand'. And it didn't hurt a bit to this point - given you take your time and go slow and prepare thoroughly, just like Jack and Ji Ho - and later also Kioyshi - told him. Plus Sai and Jeb still practise their Tantra each day. They are able to dive in the deepest state of bliss when they make out. Jeb won't even notice it's not Sai's hands on his 'wand' when the time comes. And then finally, finally Sai will give his virginity to his beloved - but oh so hesistant - Jeb.
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Uh - oh. The door. Jeb is back ö.ö' Sai wanted to have finished before he returned. Now Jeb will think he kept all the fun for himself - again...
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(I usually never post pics with the walls down - but Sai really tensed when Jeb entered ^^')
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Sai took the face mask off. Time to face Jeb...
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Sai: "I'll just get dressed and than I'll give you my very special thank you present for my gaming corner!" Jeb: "Uhm - ok..." Jeb's mood was damped since he overheard Sai in the bathroom last time. He feels like he isn't man enough for Sai when he has to pleasure himself... without him.
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But when Sai stepped out of the bathroom, he took Jeb's breath away. Jeb whispered: "You look so hot." Sai: "But I shouldn't have put those damn plastic pants on over my still damp skin in a hurry!"
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Jeb: "Gods are you hurt? Wait, I'll heal you." Sai: "No need to. Let's go to our bedroom. I'll just take them off again - slowly ;) " Jeb: "Are you sure you - you are ready to - to ...do it again?"
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Sai: "I didn't go all the way in there. I'll just go there together with you." Jeb: "Vanië..."
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Sai: "Let's take these clothes off."
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And a few minutes later, Sai took Jeb to the realms of pleasure and bliss.
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'… Loving you Isn't the right thing to do How can I ever change things That I feel?
… If I could Baby, I'd give you my world How can I When you won't take it from me?
… You can go your own way Go your own way You can call it Another lonely day You can go your own way Go your own way
Tell me why Everything turned around Packing up Shacking up is all you want to do'
Fleetwood Mac - Go your own Way
Outtakes
When they entered the game room and Vlad stood behind them - grinning creepily - and Sai was about to start hissing ö.Ö' Poor Jeb ^^'
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Sai telling Jeb he is going to go nowhere until he's finished with him hahaha
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From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest
Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here
📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29
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goldenroutledge · 14 hours ago
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when you reach me
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pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader
word count: 1.1k
warning(s): main character death, grief, spiritual connection. this one’s pure angst.
summary: in which you mourn the love of your life.
jj maybank masterlist
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Tears cloud your vision, preventing you from reading the words on the page. This is it, you think. The moment of closure you still haven’t allowed yourself to have, nothing but guilt clouding your mind since you left him. Not since you, supposedly the love of his life and the keeper of his secrets, abandoned him in Morocco. His worst fear in life come true in his death.
No matter what you tell yourself, it will never be enough. There’s not a single magic spell or genie in a bottle that could bring him back. There’s nothing– that’s good for you anyway– that will ease the pain of losing him. You remember the sadness and the frustration you felt watching him on the boat, drinking the days away because of a purpose he lost sight of. Now, that memory resonates with you more than ever. You know the feeling, it’s resignation.
The only thing that motivated you to pick up a pen and write was the fact that you owed it to him to send your feelings out there, somewhere into the universe. The tranquility of the water at night welcomed you from where you sat on the dock. You figured this would be one of the hardest places to be, overwhelming you with the reminder of what’s happened. You don’t need to be reminded, you can feel it. In every breath there’s an ache in your heart and a bruise to your bones. You can feel him here, ready and waiting to receive you. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to leaving flowers at a graveyard after all.
Rolling your letter, watching as the ink disappears with each movement of the paper is enough to make your throat swell and tears brim in your eyes. Sliding the message into the bottle is excruciating. Taking your deepest thoughts of him and sending them away. As if someone is stripping a child of their favorite toy, infringing on the emotional attachment they have to it. That’s exactly what this feels like, words in the shape of your heartstrings that you badly want to let go of, yet can’t help but stay close to. Until you remember, these words don’t belong to you. They belong to him, wherever he is. Gently, you press your lips to the bottle, giving a kiss goodbye to the metaphor it holds. JJ Maybank, your heart in human form once upon a time, is gone from your reach forever.
These waters are the closest thing you have now. When you look into them, only then can you remember the beautiful days you shared with him here, free of the anguish that locks your heart up in chains. The days of diving, swimming, kissing him in these waters, are long gone. A place where the world used to wait, where the moment would never end if you could have things your way. Setting the bottle free into these waters, you feel nothing but uncertainty that you’ll ever be the same. Watching the bottle float away and out of sight, you can’t help but wonder if he’s somewhere out there feeling the same thing.
-
‘I know I’ve waited a while to do this, JJ. I’m sorry. I’ve been in shock, in pain, angry enough to set the world on fire, numb enough to not feel the flames as they burn. You need to know that I’m sorry. I’m not who I used to be, I’m not the person you said you love with your last breath. I can’t be that person anymore after your killer released all of his hell and gave it to me. I can’t look in the mirror without seeing a shell of who I once was. I can’t take care of the others when I don’t remember how to take care of myself. I’m sorry that I have broken all of the promises between us. You wouldn’t want this for me and I don’t either. But here we are. Here I am really, it’s just me now. Sometimes I forget that, things should be different.
Someone asked me out on a date about a week ago, I felt like punching him in the face. If it weren’t for the others, I would have. If anything, they are taking care of me. I know you want me to be happy. For some people that means moving on, lighting a new torch with the one you carry for a past love. I’ve come to accept that I’m just not capable of that. What would make me happy about looking into another’s eyes and seeing yours? How could I feel safe from another’s touch if it isn’t yours? Our love made me believe that my heart could never break. I was wrong. I was so very wrong. Maybe that’s cynical of me, but I witnessed your life come to its end, I deserve to be. A part of my life ended, too.
I wish I could keep believing in everything that brought us together, but I can only remember everything that tore us apart. I hate it when people tell me that someday I’ll find love again. I do have someone I love, but not in a way that their eyes can see. They don’t understand that I don’t want to know a life without you. I’ve been told that each day gets a little better. They’re wrong. My heart breaks every day that life goes on without you. I loved you for practically your entire life, how am I supposed to be okay knowing that you loved me for only a part of mine? I don’t want to wake up one day and remember you only exist in my memory, that you’re only a shadow playing tricks on me.
I can’t make any promises to you. A part of me never wants to forgive you for leaving. The best I can do is thank you for showing me what it means to love someone, to know that I’m only one half of one soul. For giving me a reason to laugh and smile. It is because of these things, that makes you the reason why I scream and cry. There’s so much I wish you were here to do, so much I wish we could still do together. I miss you, JJ. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I’m trying to learn about who I am without you. I don’t know if I’ll ever find out, but please just know that I’m trying. Every morning I wake to an empty bed, every time I want to shatter the mirror in front of me, I keep trying. For you, I’ll never stop. You didn’t have a choice nor a chance, and I’d be damned if I didn’t take mine. I love you.’
Y/n
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💌: had this in my drafts for months now, really ever since watching the obx 4 finale :,) it was nice while it lasted right? thanks for reading!
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dontsupressthejess · 3 days ago
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Lions and Music (pt.2)
MV/LN x Reader
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Just something floating in my head tonight. Yn is a singer/actress who's laptop with unreleased songs is stolen. The songs are about people in her life. Past. Present and foreseeable future?
See what happens when they begin to get leaked and her fans and haters get an even closer look at her life through her music.
Also of course it’s Formula1 related! :)
Warnings!!
This is for Mature readers! 18 over preferably!!
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
WE are jumping right in here - i haven't written smut before so take it easy on me. You've been warned!!
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
You could only let out a silent scream. Your body is tight with frustration.
Though the fallout from your song being leaked wasn't as bad as you thought it could be, the stress it caused had really taken a toll.
You have always been the life of the party type, people gravitated to you for your happy energy. Men would feel the pull, not just for your looks but for you.
You thought you had lost a part of yourself after your last situationship but you were starting to feel like you again.
You sighed.
You had taken Neal's advice/nudge and taken a vacation. Hopped on a flight and had been enjoying the time away. Luckily you got to speak with your boyfriend before the leak. You didn't know at the time what song they would out you for so you had to come clean about the theme of the music he inspired.
Not a person to enjoy media you imagined he would be upset and end things.
He was upset. Just not at you. He was pissed someone could violate your privacy, your home in such a way and be getting away with it.
The man was just to perfect.
Her breath caught in her throat.
You didn't know where you stood completely yet when it came to an official title. Long distance had been all you've know until recently. Living on two sides of the world.
You weren't seeing other people. You were his and he was yours. You just hadn't made it official.
You could see yourself with him, He treated you well, way better that your ex. His reaction to this was just one more thing she could find herself falling for.
People who knew of him - knew him to be some type of villain in their story. A short tempered, foul mouthed, cocky egomaniac. Always the one people liked to hate.
The people who knew him personally, his friends, and family to them.. well he could still be all of those things but he was also gentle when he wanted to be, caring, funny, quiet.
He was also an absolute animal when it came to preying upon your body. You loved his gentle side but the way he could throw you on a bed and fuck your brains out. Well you really liked that.
He had done just that when you admitted to the spicy songs written about him and yes their were several.
You had shown him few- but not all of them. The man fucked you over his couch before he finished listening. To show his appreciation for your music and to inspire more he had said.
Everyday since arriving to his home he had you, just like now…
You moaned.
Head between your thighs, hes eating you out like hes starving. His big, strong hands are on your thighs, his fingertips digging in to the point of it being painful, you can feel the bruising already but that line of pain and pleasure was just so sweet. You would beg him to hurt you just a little bit more if you could form a sentence.
"Baby your pussy is fucking delicious" he groans, His hot breath against your throbbing clit.
"I'm keeping you here with me forever" he says as he dives back in. Pulling you back to his face, his tongue piercing, his big nose rubbing against your clit.
"Mmmma-a-a --ughhhh" You manged to get out. Your hands in his hair yanking him closer.
"Please" You beg him in a hoarse whisper.
He chuckles.
"What do you need baby" His hand leaves your thigh, trailing it down to shove two thick fingers in your aching pussy. "Tell me what you need, and daddy will give it to you."
Your moans become louder.
"Please i need you, i need you so bad. " He's let your leg free, so you quickly try to wrap it around his back to yank him up to your face.
His fingers leave your soaked hole in a flash and you could just kick him, you were so close! Tears leak from the corners of your closed eyes as his hand moves back to push your legs open.
"I'm not done yet" he grunts.
He's slowed down. Now pressing feather light kisses to where you needs him most.
"But if you ask nicely, I'll give you want you need sweet girl" You could hear the smirk on his face.
This game you play with each other to make the other break is something you both love, but you just cant hold out anymore. He's been playing this game with you for a fucking hour.
An hour of his gorgeously lethal face in between your legs, never letting you get to that white hot release. You have to give in.
"Please daddy, i need your cock in my pussy. I need it" You moan, voice hoarse from the hour of screaming in pleasure.
Like a lion he pounces. Bringing your legs up, he bends them back till your knees are at the side of your head. His hands forcing them to stay there. His cock thrusts in and he's balls deep in seconds. Not sparing you a second to adjust.
You scream, relief and a burning pain hitting you, more tears fall from your half shut eyes as he pounds into your tight pussy. His full balls slapping you on the ass.
"Look at me while i fuck you" he growls. Going deeper and hitting your cervix. Your eyes snap open, meeting his.
He looks smug.
Sweat sticking to his flushed skin. Your juices covering his mouth and chin.
He looks fucking sinful.
The light from the sunset is pouring in from the windows behind him, covering the room in a red hue. how can someone look this good, and how is he hers?
You could take a picture of him in this moment. Burn it into your memory. The man fucks beautifully. You could watch him fuck you into a mess for hours.
You're a fucked out mess, but you cant help but smile at him as he continues his harsh thrusts. His eyes darken at you smiling for him.
"You take me so well. You fucking love it when i wreck this pussy. You've never had it this good" he grunts. His hand releases one of your legs and begins trailing it up to your breast.
"Don't move that fucking leg. Keep it there" he commands.
Pinching you nipple before his hand goes up to grip your throat. His fingers applying pressure to just the right spots to restrict your already labored breaths.
Mouth open, drool falling down your cheek you can only moan louder. He knows you love when he chokes you. His hand covers your throat entirely. Your hands come up to cover his. Tightening over his hand to grip you that much tighter.
"Fuckk…" he groans. " You're fucking perfect y/n. Cum on daddy's cock. Cum for me sweet girl."
You were already there but hearing him tell you just makes your release come that much quicker. Your pussy tightens on his cock, and that sweet white hot sensation shoots through you, you cum with a scream, drenching his thighs and bed. He fucks you threw it. The wet, squelching sounds are so dirty its turning you on even more.
His hand slides up to your face to hook his thumb in your cheek, pulling down on your jaw he leans forward, pressing his cock into you more. Still fucking in and in and in. Your wetness making it easier for him to shove every inch of himself inside you.
Pressing his face to yours, you breathe each other in, Your mouth still open he spits in it and watches as you swallow it with no complaint. He can feel you get even wetter.
"That's a good fucking girl, swallow what daddy gives you, you ready for my cum baby?" His thrusts begin to lose the rhythm he had set.
"I'm cumming in this sweet dirty mouth of yours" With a few more hard, deep thrusts he pulls out of you and moves up your body.
His beautiful cock releasing into your mouth. Hot and thick, you love his taste, greedily trying to get every drop.
"Fuck" he groans watching you drink him up like its all you've been wanting all day. (it was)
He moves from between your legs to lay beside you. Your now numb and tingly legs slide back down to the bed.
You're panting and trembling. Your body on fire with pleasure. Your pussy clenching form the loss of his cock, squeezing around nothing.
You manage to turn to him and watch as he grips his cock, cleaning your combined juices off. He turns to you, lifting that same hand and wiping along your chin where drops of his cum have landed. Gathering it he pushed his fingers in your mouth.
"Suck" he says.
You do. Moaning at the taste of your sex. You release his fingers after you've cleaned them off. He then pulls you to him, his arm going under your head as you nestle into him. His fingers run threw your sweat matted hair. Moving it from you face.
"I didn't go to hard did i Schatje?" he asks.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
Celebrity Gossip Mag
Leak Number 2 is here!! We'll be having a listen and coming back to discuss in detail."
Follow the link below! Happy listening.
LEAKED SONG INCOMING
PORNSTAR - Yn/Ln
I wanna watch you like a movie I wanna put you on the stage I wanna know what you did to me I wanna put you on the tape
Flashing red light (Baby, baby, baby) Baby, you're a star Fuck me all night (Show me, show me, show me) Show me who you are
Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar Show me who you ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-are Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar
I wanna hear you talking dirty I wanna see it on your face I wanna feel you put the work in I wanna watch you entertain
Flashing red light (Baby, baby, baby) Baby, you're a star Fuck me all night (Show me, show me, show me) Show me who you are
Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (Pornstar) Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (Star) Show me who you ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-are (Are) Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (Star)
Pornstar (Ah, ah, ah, ah) Pornstar (Ah, ah, ah, ah) Show me who you ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-are (Ah, ah, ah, ah) Pornstar (Ah, ah, ah, ah) (Ah, ah, ah, ah) Baby, baby, baby
698,897 likes 695,976 comments
@landosWIFEY: Yeah i knew lando had rizz. @Y/nsNumber1: My queen! i know shes getting fkn railed. loving it for her. @user5974: Are we sure this is about Lando? neither song fits his vibes? lol @formul4babie: @user5974 im think the same thing!!! @user444: Wow. Bitch is horny AF. @papayapiastri: shes one lucky girl. Shes obviously getting it good. i'm jelly. but is it lando? @anon584: the amount of likes is crazy @Ferraifwend1655: moooom shes at it again! @user6970: so the mystery man fucks like a pornstar. @Fewnorrisell: Landddooooooo Norris you dawg! @user696969: So i isolated the vocals and i'm pretty sure this genius recorded her and this man fucking! Those moans in the background are legit!! Isolated vocals on my page!!
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🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
Welp thats part 2. hope you enjoy :)
Also disclaimer: I don’t own the song! Nessa Barrett does!!
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