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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year ago

Note

Hi Fen!!! Popping in to ask what you think the moon boys’ hobbies would be (if they weren’t so busy moon knighting). (For Steven, I feel like studying ancient Egypt is more like a passion, so like what else do you think he’d be into?)

K. Love you! Byeeeee.

IDJIDHVDHFH Oh my gosh, I love this ask so much! Thank you so, so, SO much for sending it! ❤️(ILY!) Did I think about this at work for a good 1 and 30 mins instead of working on a spreadsheet? No, of course not, I would never do that… 👀

I have narrowed it down to one each to save everyone from seeing my absolute madness.

Moon Knight Boys Headcanons & Hobbies

Rating: PG Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: Swearing

Steven: Cooking

Okay, here me out. So, I’ve seen opposite ends of opinion on this one (both are valid) but I’m going with Steven is a very good cook, and he likes cooking.

He’s been vegan for a while and it’s only in the last couple of years that food places have really been trying with vegan and vegetarian options that aren’t salad… bread… (chips if you’re lucky) So, I think he enjoys making lots of different recipes.

It started out with him just making vegan ones and then, over time, became him changing other recipes to make them vegan and coming up with his own.

Absolute master at vegan cakes, no one can ever tell the difference, and, in fact, a lot of people compliment him on ‘the best cake they’ve ever had’, ‘so light and fluffy? How do you do it?’ “Well, that’s the secret, innit?” (whisk the aquafaba like your life depends on it and sweet potato)

Steven is absolutely horrified by the food Marc makes himself. (Plain chicken, rice, spinach)

“Where are the flavours Marc? At least some herbs? Spices for fuck’s sake? I can’t believe you’re eating plain steamed chicken?” (He doesn’t even care that it’s meat, it's just the lack of flavour.)

“It’s boiled chicken actually.”

Steven loses his goddamn mind.

“I don’t care what bloody macronutrient you are monitoring, you are not eating that.”

It’s not that Marc can’t cook, he just doesn’t see the reason to put the effort in when it’s just for himself (doesn’t feel like he deserves it.)

Steven grumbles to himself and refuses to let Marc cook his own dinner if he can help it. “If you’re going to eat meat, at least treat it with respect, yeah? Bring out the flavour?” He usually preps something for Marc, so he can cook it quickly when he’s hungry.

Makes so many cakes and pastries for Jake. Leaves them in boxes with ‘Jake :)’ written on a post stick note on the top. Jake is always so touched and surprised when he does. They have taken to playing a little game where sometimes the food is vegan and sometimes it’s not and Jake has to guess. He’s more accurate than most people, but it still only averages around 70% right. (69% if we’re being exact, and Marc is sure Jake’s messing with the correct statistics on purpose.)

Marc: Fantasy Baseball and Fantasy Football

Literally takes it so seriously. Has spreadsheets filled with information and pours over every single statistic like it holds the answers to the universe. It only got more intense when he found a forum for people with the same interest and he literally will spend hours talking online about it.

“It’s not about getting the best players, it’s about making the best team.”

Jake has joked that he puts Steven and his love for history to shame and if those spreadsheets weren’t saved on the computer Marc would have boxes and boxes and folders upon folders of printed out info and then there would be zero space in the flat.

When Marc annoys Steven, Steven tells him to “go play with your pretend american cricket and american rugby” to piss him off.

(Marc retaliates by incorrectly pronouncing UK places.

“Steven, maybe we should take a trip to Ed-in-b-row”

“It’s Ed-in-bruh.”

“How about Sus-SEX or Es-SEX?”

“It’s Sus-SIX and Es-SIX.”

“I do love Green-WITCH at this time of year.”

“IT’S GREN-ITCH! Jake, you're from New York, how is Greenwich pronounced?”

“I’m not getting involved.”

“Ha! That’s because he agrees with me!”

When things get really heated, Marc threatens to make a cup of tea in the microwave. Steven says he doesn’t care because he makes coffee in the microwave all the time and it’s fine. Jake puts an end to it by saying hot chocolate tastes best with water and then laughing when both Marc and Steven gang up on him.

“I cannot believe you think that mate.”

“You know how many different types of milk there are?”

“Absolutely disgusting.”

“Cow, goat, soya, almond, coconut, literally any of them instead.”)

Jake: Knitting

Wanted something to keep his hands busy, that he could pick up and put down, and that he could take in his cab when he was stationary and waiting for fares.

Took to it a lot quicker than he thought it would, and can just zone out and knit. It helps keep him grounded.

He feels like he has spent a lot of his time destroying and there is something so satisfying about being able to create.

Once he mastered the stitch he quickly moved onto making clothes. Before Marc and Steven knew about him he used to knit jumpers for Steven and hide them in the wardrobe.

Jake makes Marc a cartoony style baseball jumper that he also loves, and a thick cardigan for Steven that is covered in hieroglyphics (he spends months researching the language to get it to make some sense, and works in a dig at Khonshu in there and has Steven crying with laughter.)

When they know about him Steven excitedly requests the “most garish and over the top Hanukkah jumper anyone has ever seen!” Jake does his best, presenting it to Steven (and trying to hide how nervous he feels) Steven loves it and refuses to take it off all winter.

Most people think Jake has a stern glare when he wants, but you can never be sure if he’s planning your destruction or trying to work out how many balls of wool it would take to make someone your size a jumper.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses @melodygatesauthor @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #marc spector #jake lockley #headcanon #headcanons #hobbies #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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yeoyeos · 2 years ago

Text

Disobedience [K.Y.S./J.W.Y.] smut

warnings: name calling[slut,cumslut,cockslut, whore,bitch],bondage[handcuffs,leashes],vibrators,f!reader,cum swallowing,squirting,dick sucking

lmk if i missed anything

a/n: 2nd longest fic ever👀

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"who made this mess?!" you and wooyoung stare at each other in shock at the sudden booming voice echoing throughout the apartment, neither of you expecting yeosang to be home this early. both of you hurriedly began cleaning up the mess you made in the bathroom to, hopefully, lessen the surely awaited punishment for both of you. fingers were crossed he didn't walk in to see both of you still wet (despite coming out of the shower a while ago) with cum all over both of your faces and your body

he was mad enough when he saw the trail of clothes you left behind and the fallen down furniture throughout the apartment, but the sight of both you and wooyoung in a mess with water all over the floor had him fuming. you were scared but undoubtedly aroused being that there was always a look yeosang had when he was about to make an unpredictable move; surely he would punish both of you in some way, that much you knew, the arousing part is the uncertainty of what he's going to do

"room. now."

not needing to be told twice, you dropped the mop and briskly walked to the shared bedroom, wooyoung right behind you. both of you got on your knees side by side as yeosang usually instructs when he's about to punish either of you. “he's either picking up the clothes we left behind or getting the leashes” woo whispers, soft enough so yeosang doesn't hear you through the thin walls. "i vote for the latter" you whispered back, heartbeat ascending faster than you've ever felt as you heard footsteps working toward both of you. he walked in, collar and leash in hand (like you assumed) and a stern look that ran a shiver all over your body. fuck he’s so hot

covered in a light glisten of sweat, his gorgeous birthmark only slightly visible due to it being covered by a couple strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. his black, skin tight vest alluring to what’s underneath as his baggy sweatpants did the opposite. but no matter what he wore, he always looked enticing, like a meal ready to be devoured

he slowly makes his way to you, pulling you up by your hair, making you whimper in both pain and pleasure as he dragged you to your shared bed. he sat you down and proceeded to tie the collar to your neck and tie the leash around a bedpost. 'this isn't going to be fun' you thought. every time yeosang ties one of you up he's about to make you yearn for his touch which is absolute torture

"you'll sit here like a good bitch and look at me punish wooyoung. you don't speak, you don't move and you don't look away understand?” the sternness of his voice and the strength he used to hold your chin, making you look into his eyes, locked your own vocal chords to the point where you didn’t realize you hadn't answered him until he raised his eyebrow in an expecting look. "yes master" you softly muttered, before he let go of the grip be had on your face and strode toward wooyoung

"you" he spoke in his deep ass voice that made your insides tremble. "you should know better, shouldn't you darling?" his voice got progressively deeper as he stooped down to drift his fingertips over wooyoung's chest and abs. yeosang made sure that when he asked questions, he'd teasingly touch our bodies since it was fun to see us all choked up for him. as his big hands and delicate fingers caressed our bodies, making us shiver in delight and rendered speechless

"i asked you a question, you should know better. shouldn't you?" his hands now drifting toward woo's thighs, making the boy visibly shiver. if he wasn't already kneeling on the ground he would've collapsed into yeosang’s arms begging for anything he could get. "yes master i-" "y/n's a slut, she can't help but chase cock wherever she can get it." the mention of you as if you weren't even there hits your body with intoxication; wondering if you could get away with touching yourself secretly behind the two

"it's your job to keep her in line while i'm away. you know its against the rules to fuck unless i say." yeosang slaps wooyoung's left thigh earning a mewl from the black haired boy on the floor "i think you should get a worse punishment than her, wouldn’t you agree?" was yeosang's last statement as he gripped wooyoung’s cock, a full fledged moan escaped his pretty pink lips as yeosang harshly stroked his dick. he spit in his hand for lubrication and continued touching him, his movements were so much for woo that precum escaped his tip in a surprising amount, until you remember how sensitive your partner is

seeing them preoccupied led you to rubbing your legs together. as neither partner was paying attention to you, why not have some fun while they're not looking? so said so done as you slowly drifted your right hand to your untouched, throbbing clit. doing it in enough of a secretive way that if the spotlight were to be put on you, you can retract your hand and not get caught. you hoped at least

you touched your clit and observed the scene unfold in front of you. you were so busy trying to stifle a moan, you didn't hear the command yeosang gave to wooyoung but you were glad you got to witness the suddenness of wooyoung spitting on his own cock while yeosang moves his hands faster.

wooyoung throws his head back, being enveloped in the pleasure of an upcoming orgasm that's so close he can feel it taking over his body. his back slightly arching as he was on the brink of experiencing his desired orgasm, only for it to be taken away from him; which was expected but also a displeasure. despite it never having any effect on yeosang, woo looked up at the man with the best puppy eyes he could muster, he looked absolutely adorable with those big glossy eyes of his looking up at sang, pleading for his release.

the sight was enough to make you cum, but you couldn’t have chosen a worse time to pick up speed when yeosang stood up and looked at you. you swiftly moved your hand away and placed it to your side, hopefully moving fast enough to not get caught

he soon got up and walked toward the drawer in your bedside table and grabbed the handcuffs he kept in there. “since you can't seem to keep your hands to yourself-” he said mostly for your ears to hear and your eyes widened 'how the fuck did he see?' “didn't you realize your moans aren't as subtle or suppressed as you think?”

after tying both your hands behind your back to the same post the leash was tied to, he walked away leaving you slightly ashamed at your neediness, but more aroused that you were caught. he strode over to wooyoung, clothes still on but a visible tent in his sweats, alluding to how massive and hard his cock is. he pulled wooyoung up by his hair and lightly pushed him on the bed near your feet and for the first time that night you saw yeosang's eyes soften, making sure the boy was alright. the look of confirmation from wooyoung was enough for him to go off of and continue his endeavours.

“legs open” he said looking toward you. you opened your legs wide in much joy and anticipation for what was to come, knowing you were probably about to get eaten out or fingered. “face in her cunt” yeosang said, managing to be so commanding in such few words, which always left you amazed. wooyoung lay down on his stomach in front of you, his breath heavy on your dripping cunt. “tsk, what am i going to do with two disobedient cunts like yourselves”

he once again held wooyoung by his hair and pushed his face into your cunt, sending waves upon waves of pleasure from your core throughout your body. sharp nose rubbing on your clit as his tongue licked up and down your slit before hungrily lapping up your wetness and diving his tongue into your hole. wooyoung always knew how to bring pleasure to you in seconds with that magical tongue of his. he continued with no signs of stopping no matter what, leading you to whine like a bitch in heat

yeosang didn’t seem to like this one bit and in the swiftest motion, raised wooyoung's head from your pussy to lay a light slap on it, making you moan louder in turn, and put wooyoung’s face back where he immediately continued eating you as if he were already pussy drunk. “whore’s aren’t supposed to enjoy their punishments” he spoke, but you could barely listen, not after the spike in pleasure you just received. “s-sorry master” you whispered into a moan despite it not being true in the slightest. but apologies didn’t cut it apparently, being that yeosang repeated his previous action. you had to remind yourself to stifle your moans before you get into more trouble but the slap felt so good your best decision would be to distract yourself. but how could you when yeosang forces your eyes to look into woo’s. “Look at him, pathetic. just like you” he spat, “he wants to taste your cum so bad. are you going to give him what he wants? or are you going to cum and get punished for it?”

continuing to moan like the true whore you are, seemed to affect wooyoung as well, seeing that he started grinding his hips against the bed for the tiniest bit of friction. which yeosang didn’t seem to pay any mind to. he truly was an enigma but you knew for a fact that putting you in a tough spot like this fed his growing erection. “if you cum you get punished too, don't forget that, slut” he directed wooyoung. the constant struggle to keep in your moans and prevent from giving yourself a mind blowing orgasm was torture, and you’re not sure how long you could hold it in. and yeosang knows this.

“look at you, about to burst just from woo’s tongue huh??” he leaned down to place light kisses on the side of your neck and trailed them up to your ear. “i know you want to, cum. see what happens when you do. i know you're dying to be punished until you break, pet” and with those words weaving their way to the knot in your abdomen, the last bit of your resolve broke. you gripped the white silk sheets beneath you and arched your back high off the large bed as you near squirted on woo’s face, just from yeosang’s words and the feeling of woo’s tongue

you didn’t think this would have such an effect on you but you weren’t complaining, and neither was woo, judging from the increased speed of his hips. you took a couple seconds to come down from your high and notice your surroundings, that being the very visible stain of both your and wooyoung’s cum on the bed, and yeosang with restraints, vibrators and gags. “since you two want to be such disobedient brats today, i’ll just have to train you to behave”

your eyes widened in anticipation. yeosang can be evil when he wants to be and this seems like one of those times. “woo, lay next to y/n” his tone harsher than ever as he directs wooyoung where to place himself which he hastily abides, not wanting to be in more trouble than he already is. “want to cum so badly? fine” he muttered, seemingly to himself but you both knew he wanted you to hear.

in no time woo was in the same state as you, hands and neck tied to the bedposts with an addition of gags in your mouth and vibrators between your legs. woo with a thick, black cockring and you with a pink clitoral vibrator strapped to your leg

yeosang took a seat on the big chair placed in front of the bed and began pulling down his pants and boxers. a tyrannical sort of smirk on his face as he takes his achingly hard cock out, along with two small remotes from his pocket. he lay one on his lap and the other stayed in his hand. stroking his member slowly, he pressed a button and a muffled groan was heard from beside you. wooyoung got the immediate sensation of vibrations from the ring, pleasure streaming through his body had him uncontrollably squirming as yeosang raised the power of the instrument higher and higher the faster he stroked himself. and you were his next target

just as wooyoung was about to cum, the pleasure ceased and you were the one being immediately tortured. out the gate, strong vibrations hit you like a truck instantly creating a knot in your abdomen once again. moans from both you and yeosang filled the room while wooyoung lay there trying to compose himself from his previously denied orgasm. you wanted to beg, scream, do anything as long as you got yeosang’s touch, but you couldn’t and it drove you mad. your impending orgasm was on the brink of making your mind turn to mush and you hoped to whatever god that existed that you got it. the odds were not stacked in your favour however, when the pleasure came to an abrupt end, and seemingly only for you.

yeosang threw his head onto the back of the chair as he moaned in ecstasy, his orgasm hitting him hard while cum shot out of his still erect cock and landed on his well sculpted chest that you wished you could clean up right now. you and wooyoung looked at yeosang in jealousy seeing him receive the pleasure you both craved for. you wanted to look away out of the pettiness in your heart, but the sight of yeosang with his eyes closed, head thrown back and dick in his fist while covered in cum was too enticing. so mesmerising that you could feel yourself dripping just from the sight. agonisingly enough, you were not able to touch yourself or your lovers

“you could’ve had this pleasure,” he started, “but you had to be cock hungry and pussy drunk sluts and fuck while i was out.” yeosang took both controls in his hand and turned them on to the highest setting, sending both you and wooyoung into a shock of pleasure. you wished you could touch them, get fucked till you were mindless. anything but being tied down and untouched with just a vibrator to please you. “you wanna cum? cum” he spoke, more focus on the last word as you broke, spilling more of your juices on the sheets. you weren't one to complain about receiving pleasure though, the release you felt was so ecstatic you didn’t want it to end

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the first time you came was bliss, the second time was ecstasy. the 5th time had you less than excited; sure he took the gags out, but only because he “needed to hear you being pathetic.” you’re not sure how long yeosang left you two there for and you're pretty sure wooyoung can’t cum or even function anymore but you just couldn’t take anymore, you had to resort to the one thing you hated doing

“m-m-master please, i’m sorry for being such a c-cock whore please p-please i can’t take it anymore i’ll never disobey your rules again i’m s-sorry” none of it was true, but you needed to be fucked now or you might just explode. “i’m sorry too master, i should've known better and i’ll never do it again” even an idiot could sense that it was all a lie and you’d both do it again in a heartbeat, but yeosang had you both depraved cumsluts before obedient ones and all your brains could focus on was his cum anywhere in or on you. his predator-like stare would burn your skin if it could and his large, veiny hands stood still on his lap. you anticipated his next move to be swift but that wasn’t the case. he slowly arose from his spot, strolling toward both your shaking, crying bodies. turning the vibrators off he finally granted you release from the overstimulation he caused you. leaning over you, he whispered between your and wooyoung’s ear, “you wish you were sorry” then walked over to the other side of the bed, releasing wooyoung from his restraints. scared by his words, you hadn’t noticed he freed you as well.

“if you’re both as sorry as you say you are, then you’d obey me now, yes?” eager nods came from both parties but yeosang wasn’t having it. “yes master” “knees” and neither of you stuttered, immediately making a move to kneel in front of him on the carpeted floor. sure, you wanted to be fucked into a barely mumbling mess, but sucking yeosang’s beautiful cock was second to none. the feeling of his cock heavy on your tongue and cum sliding down your throat was a treat you relished every chance you got.

he held his cock in front of our faces wordlessly and you made first touch, stroking his length slowly. this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve sucked dick with woo, and you know he can be greedy, so you have to fight to get what you've been desiring this entire evening. as you stroked, woo kitten licked and kissed his tip, but you were at an advantage due to your position. you looked up at yeosang with your best puppy eyes, hoping to coax something out the man towering over you

you should’ve known that wouldn’t work. yeosang is like a magnifying glass, he can definitely see through your ruse to get fucked dumb. he placed a light slap across your face and stepped away slightly, “both of you, suck me” he instructed. you rushed to the tip of his cock, right next to wooyoung, to assist him in sucking your master’s dick. it felt so good to finally have something in your mouth that wasn’t a gag. you forgot woo was there for a second, marginally pushing him away to fit all of yeosang’s cock in your mouth and looking up at him again, this time with a small thank you in your eyes for letting you suck him off.

wooyoung isn’t one to take competition lightly though, and pushes you back to replace your mouth with his. licking and sucking like his life depended on it. yeosang, cleary having enough your scrimmage, brought wooyoung up to face level, to plant a lustful kiss on his lips while you took him whole. “fuck” he breathed into the kiss he shared, totally forgetting about the punishment he was giving to the both of you.

‘yeah that’s right. make master feel good. help her suck me little toy” he spoke. wooyung hastily kneeling down and forgetting about the little dispute you two had moments ago and sucking on his balls and up his shaft, he felt so good that it was impossible to miss the jolt of his hips toward both your mouths, clearly wanting more. just the way he likes it, he put his hand in both of your hair and forced you to choke on his whole cock while forcing woo to suck his balls. he threw his head back in ecstasy, revelling in the feeling of his two cock sluts taking his dick and balls in their mouth. he pulled both of your heads back and wordlessly pushed you and woo into a kiss which you happily obliged, kissing him messily while moaning. wooyoung seemed to enjoy the taste of yeosang’s precum on your tongue and kissed you deeper making the kiss get more heated.

“look at my whores, you’ll take anything you can get huh?” he pulled you away from woo, finally allowing you the chance to share a kiss with him. the kiss was immediately hot and filled with lust, dominating the kiss as his tongue entered your mouth. exploring your cavern that was just stuffed with his cock. he got a power trip from knowing how much dominance he has over both of you, bucking his hips toward woo at just the thought, making wooyoung choke on his massive cock. you tried your best to focus on the heated kiss you shared with yeosang but you couldn't help but notice the sounds wooyung made choking on yeosang’s cock. you felt him repeat his actions which made wooyoung choke louder, looking down you noticed cum dripping out of wooyoung’s mouth and you couldn’t be more mesmerized by the way he swallowed his cum but some still managed to fall onto his chest. yeosang took your chin in his hand and made you look at him. “you want it don’t you?” he said with a soft tone and a domineering stare which still managed to render you speechless, but you knew if you didn’t answer you'll never get what you want. “yes master please” you begged and he nodded.

getting back on your knees, you licked wooyoung up and down his chest and jaw, collecting the drips of your master’s cum on his body, which managed to make the taste even better. the mix of yeo’s cum and woo’s smell driving you insane. however, you were so enthralled with licking woo (and vice versa) that you didn’t realize yeo’s disappearance. you both spun around to see him on the bed only for him to give another command. “woo ride my cock, y/n my face” and you didn’t need to be told twice, quickly jumping on the bed to sit on his pretty face. slowly he started moving his tongue up and down your slit and giving kitten licks to your clit. your back arched enough for wooyoung to reach your nipples and squeeze them. a pang of jealousy hit you when you realized he got to have yeo’s dick inside him instead of you. but as you felt a harsh suck on your clit, it brought you out of your mind and toward the pleasure yeosang was giving you.

you looked down at his pretty face and noticed his eyes on you, zoning in on the pleasure displayed on your features, as you did the same, feeling your pleasure increase as he moved faster. you were starting to tremble, hands gripping yeosang's hair as to not fall back onto wooyoung. you wanted to continue watching your lover eat you out while the other pleased the hardened nubs on your chest but as you felt your 6th orgasm arriving for the night you couldn’t focus on anything but cumming. you let out a moan of your master’s name, already feeling the pleasure taking over your body. you pulled his hair harder and grabbed onto wooyoung’s wrist when you squirted all over yeosang’s face and the pillows behind him, you’re not sure how you held yourself up, especially as yeosang continued his ministrations, but you did

as he slowed down you got off and lay exhausted beside him while wooyoung continued. though tired, you pulled wooyoung in for one last kiss before you lay back down which he seemed to enjoy as he finally burst, covering yeosang in more cum which they were both extremely pleased about.

after he showered yeosang’s torso in his cum, he clearly grew weak. yeosang slipped him off and lay him on his right side, while you were on his left, all three of you left breathless but content (despite two of you receiving harsh punishments) and when some energy was restored yeosang got up and walked out. you’re not sure where he went but you couldn’t find it in you to care at the moment, grabbing wooyoung and cuddling him despite both of you being messy and sweaty. he’s a good cuddler. you stayed in that position for some time until yeosang came back. you heard a whispered “cute” when he entered and felt him poke you both. “water and fruits” his tone softer and more filled with care, contrary to his earlier tones of strict dominance. you love how his attitude did an entire 180 when you and woo were all fucked out.

“didn’t go too hard on you, did i?” he asked, slight worry clear in his eyes as he wiped both of you with a damp cloth, “if i say yes would you give me kisses?” wooyoung replied, causing you to roll your eyes at his behaviour for attention, “both of you will get kisses no matter what” he said as he placed a single loving kiss on both of your foreheads and lay in the middle of the two of you as both of you drank your water and ate your fruits, laying down to cuddle him after.

“i hope you both learned your lesson” he stated in a more serious tone to address you two, a unanimous “no” meeting his ears before hiding your faces in his neck giggling like children. yeosang couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how cute both his lovers are, reminding himself to punish you more tomorrow as he cuddled with you both and drifted to sleep

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masterlist

ateez masterlist

taglist

#ateez smut #ateez fanfic #yeoyeos' works #wooyoung x reader #yeosang smut #ateez scenarios #yeosang fanfic #yeosang imagines #yeosang x reader #yeosang x y/n #yeosang x you #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x you #wooyoung imagines #sub!wooyoung

283 notes · View notes

palmviolet · 2 years ago

Note

3, 5 [bbybtm], 10, 17, 25, 39 for the writers ask meme 👀

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

i mean detail period, for one thing haha if you see ridiculous endnotes you're getting close. but generally i think i explore pretty big issues — my last few longfics have been about classism, trauma, homophobia, and chronic pain respectively. i also love complicated relationships where the story doesn't end when they admit feelings, but rather begins.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [better by you, better than me]? Answer it now!

oooh i'm going to talk about the very start of the first scene because i love it and i want to explain why i think it works.

Bleary eyes and a clang from the door; Eddie wakes to raw ice in his chest and a gritty feeling in his mouth, like road salt. Padded bench thin and utterly uncomfortable beneath him. It takes a second for vision to meet brain and connect; he says a silent prayer for his neurons, fried by whatever Rick gave him last night, those precious little jumper cables. Maybe something really is listening, because, eventually, they spark. He recognizes the room.

“He wakes,” someone says. The guy opposite him, an older guy with a belly, baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes like a sleep mask. “Thought you were dead for a second there, kid, how much did you drink?”

so from the very first we have eddie in a confused, disjointed state — sentences fragmented, various senses waking up — but even here it's all about his perceptions, sight, sound, taste, touch. he's a perceptive character and a lot of the fic is about what he notices, which is set up here. also, he's reduced to the bare essentials of existing, as in extremis, foreshadowing events to come, where he's going to have to rely on his body (which frequently lets him down) to survive. the next sentence introduces his mental state, something he's hyperaware of, 'wired wrong' in both a neurodivergent sense and a queer sense, and his relationship to drugs — the unhealthy influence rick has over him, the way he's sort of lost in it and doesn't know what he's doing. and then the final sentence of the paragraph: 'maybe something really is listening'. it introduces religiosity (and smalltown judgement, his own scepticism, the faith of other characters) at the same time as it suggests the possibility of something else out there, something from another world. i also used a car metaphor, to set up mechanic!eddie.

the presence of the other guy in the drunk tank is significant too. he's older, he's got a rural accent the way wayne and eddie's dad do. he calls eddie 'kid' and expresses concern — a pseudo father figure. volume one is all about dynamics of fatherhood and i wanted to get that in there right from the start. eddie's already dismissing the care of a parental figure, distrusting it, but it's being offered anyway (the guy 'scoffs' when eddie calls himself 'stupid'). it sets up a really significant theme across the work, that these relationships aren't hopeless, that often you can find the family you need in the most unexpected places. of course, this doesn't mean the guy from the drunk tank is going to show up again — he's a symbol, more than anything. which is something i've also loved doing with this fic, which is fleshing out the texture of everyday life, the way we'll meet people randomly who have their own inner lives, their own conflicts and ideas and histories, and yet they're only a fleeting concern to our own inner lives. it's a prominent theme!

10. How do you decide what to write?

i mean i sort of just... write and see where it takes me. better by you, for example, was a very hazy idea i intended to keep on the backburner while i worked on the 70s rockstar au and then i had a mad flash of inspiration and wrote the opening drunk tank scene and boom, i couldn't stop myself. as for the actual content of my stories, again, it just sort of happens. i do spend time teasing out plot points and working out where to put them but there's not really a logical process about what goes into the fic and what gets cut.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

i've mentioned this before but - infinite jest steddie au lmaooo i want elite tennis player steve and drug user/dealer eddie in a weirdly dystopian future conveyed by ridiculously long sentences. but hey. that's supremely indulgent.

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

big fan of google ngram and the OED to check if i can use certain words, for the sake of period accuracy. wikipedia's also a big help. i also use top 40 weekly to see what music was popular at what points in the 80s.

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who?

hmm this is a strange question because the word 'process' is throwing me off - is it asking about the physical act of writing? (aka stephen king's 'six pages a day' rule or whatever?) because if so, then not really haha again i just sort of let it happen, though i do hold with the idea that one should try to write every day. (which i have very much NOT been doing lately, but hey, master's degree.)

thank you!! fic ask game

#asks #better by you #bbybtm #my fic

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chloeworships · 13 days ago

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UPDATE:

The St. Joseph message involves the LORD giving us the TOOLS ⚒️ we need to do something. Yes babes, he is going to….

P R O V I D E

God’s tool shed is looking pretty good right about now

🤣🧰🤣

This is EXACTLY who I saw. I am screaminggggggg 👇🏾

He was a little more tanned and darker but nonetheless it was the blessed Saint!!!

We still have so much to talk about.

PS. Did I mention the colour orange was important from the last message? I can’t remember now so I’m saying it again haha. St. Joseph was shown to me in this colour but it was a light almost pale orange.

🧡

UPDATE 2:

God reminded me to look up the meaning of the tools St. Joseph is often seen with and I am done!!!! ✅ Just a small correction in the article, St. Joseph eventually had sexual relations with Mary as she bore more sons of his such as ST. JAMES.

The “tools” also relate to Mars. Technology is a TOOL. why was I just thinking Erin O’Toole 👀🇨🇦 CANADIANS I AM SCREECHING!!!! Names have meanings!!!! Our PARENTS and God knew what they was doing when they named us eh? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Invest, invest, and invest in technology and science AND education. Invest in our youth. They are the leaders of tomorrow. I also heard the Israelites are tech wizards 😂

God’s plan was to bring you all HERE. Speaking of “PLAN” when he spoke to me about Kamala, he was sitting in a classroom and in front of a whiteboard. He was planning ✍️ Trust God in this babes. He knows what lies ahead. Recall the dream of the young woman who listened and grabbed my hand because the LORD showed me DEATH was coming. I’m not saying Kamala and Tim won’t make mistakes, which administration has not? But if God says this is THE ONE, THE PERSON, THE BEST CANDIDATE FOR THE TOP J.O.B., in the still Christian and most POWERFUL nation of the WORLD, then this is the person and who are we to argue with God about it? WHO are we to question him? 👀

When David was to be selected as King, the Israelites rallied behind him. In Isaiah 45, which I shared several verses earlier, the LORD rebuked those who arrogantly argue and question him. Let us not do that and accept his will, even if we don’t like it or understand it 👇🏾

The NLT version 👇🏾

If this ☝🏾isn’t a scripture of confirmation then I don’t know what else to tell you 🤷🏾‍♀️

⚠️ Now with all the good news shared today, I do have to remind you of the dream I had with Tim, so be prepared. My prayer is the new administration will do the LORD’s will and not become like King SAUL. Have your extra oil ready and don’t be caught surprised or off-guard (AGAIN) like the other unfortunate five VIRGINS who missed the wedding all together. What a tragedy especially for young (girls) bridesmaids who would have been looking forward to celebrating and possibly meeting their own future husbands all dressed up and with their best make up on 😍💍😂 Raise your hand if you would have been mad if you missed your friends wedding? 🙋🏾‍♀️😂

Also, it is NOT a question as to why Joseph was chosen to be Jesus’ earthly father. He too worked with his hands like the LORD has done to create US… mankind 🛠️ We are works of art babes, MASTERPIECES 🖼️ lol 😂

We shouldn’t be angry with the LORD when things don’t go our way. This is the spiritual maturity we learn to develop through our faith. I too am learning that. We can grieve like Samuel, like David and like Jesus, but we keep it moving knowing the LORD has our best interests at heart like any good father. All good things work out for those who love the LORD… eventually.

God is also teaching many people a lesson 👨‍🏫 These leaders will face opposition but they absolutely must stand FIRMLY with what the LORD advises them no matter how it “looks” or who’s the loudest in the room.

Someone else who is a teacher is going to win their election 🗳️ — Congratulations in advance 😎

#patiently waiting 🎶#St. Joseph #Jesus’ blessed father #TOOLS #yall know ya girl is a joker 🃏😂#ARSENAL #All Saints Day

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mygwenchan · 9 months ago

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We're back with the other two twinks for a moment. First has finally got his priorities sorted out and he knows the quarrel with Zouey is less important than the trouble at hand: Everyone, except for these two, have disappeared!

Maybe Zouey and First can help? Though I can't really see how. And yes, Zouey does seem mad and stressed. And he's still got that guilty look as well... I swear, if he turns out to be the evil mastermind behind everything, I'm gonna throw hands. I can take it if Zouey has a secret or two, but don't let him be the evil overlord, please 🥺

Meanwhile the Playboyys are having the exact opposite of a great time 😭

Yes, First. Go save your man!

(Is it just me, or did Zouey seem very reluctant to follow First? 🤔)

WOW, how did those two get there so fast 👀

Hmm, Zouey looks just as shocked as First. Guess he's not involved in this drama after all? We shall see~

I suspect this is referring to the movie "A Serbian Film" from 2010. From what I've heard, it's pretty gruesome and pornographic (even worse than "120 Days of Sodom" and that one is already super fucked up). First... what kind of movies are you watching, kid? 😶

GUYS DON'T JUST RUN AWAY! Take the others with you wtf

And poor Puen is still unconscious...

Side note about Zouey: So he was angry and upset because Nont told him not to come to this "meeting"? Hmm, I guess Zouey felt left out. Ok, that would explain why he was in his depressed phase. Maybe he's not the evil mastermind after all!

Side note 2: Captain get's a tiny gold star from me, because he tried to get Puen as well, but didn't manage to wake him up that quickly

Oh good, Jason's men go after them, so our Playboyys can make a run for it as well!

Puen looks like shit, but at least he's still alive, so that's something

Btw, Nuth escaped too (you can see him in the screenshot below in the right corner). He was smarter than the twinks and went the other way round. Jason's men didn't follow him and he's still got his camera, meaning he probably filmed the whole thing (might come in handy later on :3)

#playboyy #playboyy the series #playboyy ep12 #gwen's watchlist

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aurorag98 · 11 months ago

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This is how I imagine them in the car 👀

sorry this is so long, but it was all for framing and highlighting

“Well, I’m not, and never have been, the president of the United States.” “And if you were?” I looked at him from over my shoulder, a playful smirk appearing on his lips.

Olive believed in him, before everyone else, I know he keeps her in his heart (Mencken has a heart? it is very difficult to dive into this man's mind).

“He was from Brookline. My mom is from Medford. They would meet up in Hyannis to, ya know, rendezvous. Away from his wife.” He glanced over quickly, his brow sloping at the arch as he watched my face change at the realization.

And you do the same man? son of his father, god that makes me uneasy, the question Olive, do you want to be Jill (I do haha).

“Pretty sure the sheets have been washed in the last forty years, Olivia.” He squeezed my thigh reassuringly. “Some stains never come clean, Jeryd.”

exactly Olivia, run away while you can (I don't blame you if you don't 🫠).

Ironically enough, I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the stain that blemished my soul by proving that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree in his regard.

Ouch 🥺 (beautifully written by the way)

If god was a woman, I figured, she wouldn’t be too mad at me for what I did. What I would do in the grand scheme of things.

What else are you going to do, Olive?

I love the way you write the smutty parts, they are very good, the intimacy of these two, the way they laugh, their chemistry, I love it.

“Those aren’t bad looking oysters.” Kimmy commented, a smirk appearing on her face as she sized Jeryd up.

Hahahaha no way! I really like Kimmy, but we won't know if she will be discreet or not, I'm laughing my ass off, I love romcoms.

Once Kimmy paid for her loot while I stood awkwardly to her side like a lost child, we followed her outside and down the block where my father sat unsuspectingly under a large parasol. Jeryd had tried and failed to walk the opposite way down the street, Kimmy giving us both a look as I pulled him back to me, knowing full well what had transpired in that bathroom, loving nothing more than to watch me sweat.

I take it back I don't love Kimmy so much anymore, how mean, but hey, how awful! poor Olive 😭

That’s when it hit me. Seeing them together, how close in age they were, wondering how many daddy issues I had to have for this particular moment to happen to me. Was there a set amount, like a ticket token, to hit the fucked up jackpot that I seemed to have won in that very moment. If I could have shed my skin and slithered away, I very much would have.

God, Olive, you're fucked up haha, this happened to a friend who's boyfriend is 45 and her dad is 50 💀 her mom said "well, they're almost the same age right?" hahaha.

“Make sure you stay away from those bad oysters, Liv.” Kimmy called out and I waved sheepishly back at her as Jeryd and I walked in the direction where he had parked the car.

She's just giving good advice to her stepdaughter hahaha although I wouldn't take that advice either, eat more bad oysters, Olive, all you want.

“You looked like a little kid at the adult’s table back there,” he finally said to me when we were inside the cottage, staring silently at one another across the kitchen bar.

😭😭😭😭 He's a son of a bitch! ( sorry Jill) but yeah, poor Olive, she's only 22 years old and she's in a relationship with a married man!! who is also her recent boss, how the fuck did he want her to react? she panicked.

“Yeah, like you haven’t been dragging me to hell everyday since I’ve known you!”

aaah Yes, Olive, tell him!

“I swear to god, the only thing that would make you happy is if I slapped a collar and leash on you and led you around town all night.” He said with a groan.

he's so hurtful, I don't know what I expected, poor Olive 🥺

“You let my mother fill your head with fucking delusions and get disappointed when I don’t meet your expectations.”

oh so his mother likes to say that to all his mistresses 🫠

cackling shrilly when he told me he would be president one day and would take me to the White House with him.

the truth is out hahaha

I rolled my eyes, “Maybe they’ll turn this place into a museum once you’re president and I will forever be emblazoned into American history.”

you're joking, but you like to believe it because it means that everything else he told you is true, Olive.

Sorry, I want to underline the whole chapter, everything is so frameable, I want to frame it haha, I loved it, I think it's my favorite chapter so far (even though I love this story too much 🥰) because it brings out all the problems in this relationship.

I really hate Jeryd for doing this, haha for blaming her for acting like a child when there is no way to act any different when she was hit with the reality that you are with an older person who is also married and the whole aspirational story thing about being president, what a low he fell, he sweetened her ear with lies or illusions anyway, by this point, I think he believes all his own lies too.

I can't stand the fact that he manipulated her, until then Olive was aware of what this was, (nothing really) it's true she fell in love and thought this was something more, but he crossed the line, at this point he made it personal, he really gave her hope and reality hit her with the appearance of Mencken's wife's car, God, it's so heartbreaking, I love him.

Sorry for how long this was, but every time I see the possible ending of this it's worse, up until then it was all in Olive's mind, now we know Jeryd actively contributed to those lies.

The Girl Next Door part VIII

Pairing: Jeryd Mencken x OFC

Warnings: dubious content, affairs, sexual content, age gap, my improper use of commas. MDNI

A/N: When I tell you guys this chapter was a labor of love, I fucking mean it. We’re almost at the end, my friends. If anyone can predict accurately how this is going to end, I will give you one (1) forehead kiss. As always, thanks to @runningwiththefoxes and @vivalafae for dealing with my neurotic ass.

WC: 4426

My delusions hit an all time high when I woke up plastered to his chest the next morning. My hair, like inky black tendrils, spilled across his neck and shoulders, the rest of my limbs fitted to his, melting so dangerously close together that it was hard to tell where I ended and he began.

His gruff voice pulled me to the present, vibrating my caged chest.

“Hold still.”

I only hummed in response, too sleepy and drunk off him, his scent, to come up with any verbalisation that would’ve made sense at that moment.

We zoomed at one singular pace then, his hands finding purchase clasped together at the small of back, as I dozed back off.

When I woke again, I had rolled to my side, the comforter pulled up to the pillows where he had once been.

Walking around someone else’s house scantily clad made me feel dirtier than anything else we had done up to that point. Not that I was modest, heaven knows modesty was a trait I’d try my hand at and fail over the course of my life, but my presence felt like I was tainting someone else’s memories the cottage contained.

I floated lightly in the kitchen, tiptoeing about as I put a kettle of water on to boil. Jeryd was nowhere to be found and I only assumed he was out for a run or taking in the morning air. My curiosity getting the better of me, I eased down the hallway, to the first door on the right, my fingertips grazing across the penciled in heights and their corresponding dates along the door's frame.

Cautiously, I opened the door, revealing two twin beds, their comforters checkered in identical blue and black plaid, against two opposite walls. A photo of two young boys sat atop the small nightstand separating the beds. Simultaneously the kettle’s whistle and a set of hands on my shoulders caused me to shriek.

“You’re a bad influence!” I turned around and eyed him intensely before swerving past to grab the kettle off the eye.

“Never have I ever felt so sneaky and slithery!” I called from the kitchen, hearing his footsteps draw nearer.

He appeared behind me within seconds, leaning against the counter as I filled two teacups with scalding hot water, turning around to look at him as the tea steeped.

“Tell me, will I always be the blame for all of this or will you open your eyes and see yourself as a willing participant?”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “You’ve got me up here, half naked, making tea at daybreak, trying to figure out whose house I’m in.”

He mirrored my stance, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. “Okay, well, I didn’t ask you to make tea.”

He reached forward and grabbed the box containing the teabags, reading the back label with squinted eyes.

“This shit has probably been here since the sixties.”

“No,” I shook my head, “I snagged it from the store yesterday.”

“The sixties?” I questioned, “Whose house is this?”

He reached beside me, grabbing his respective cup of tea.

“My mother’s,” he stopped long enough to blow away steam and sipped carefully, “Do you want to see the deed for the house or do you believe me?”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“I believe you.”

“Shocking,” He commented sarcastically as he made his way over to sit at the breakfast nook.

“You fight in your sleep.” He commented, his voice still gruff and laced with sleep.

“I had to pin you close to me last night to keep from taking a right hook to the face.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to cuddle.” I laughed breathlessly as I snagged the chunky blanket from the arm of the couch and wrapped it around myself, making my way over to sit across from him.

“Hardly.” He eyed me over the rim of his teacup.

“What do we do after this?” I thrummed my fingertips across the tabletop. “When we get home... Surely a mission trip can’t last more than a few weeks.”

I slyly laid out a chance for him to come clean about his wife’s whereabouts.

“What are you going to do after Georgetown?” He asked, leaning back in his seat to eye me with the curious coolness he always undertook when regarding these subjects with me.

“I asked first.” I countered, sipping my tea confidently as I stood my ground.

“In terms of love, marriage, and a baby carriage?”

I shifted awkwardly in my seat, “Uh, not exactly what I meant for us.”

“Then what did you mean, Liv?”

“I have a soft spot for PR,” I watched as he stood up, grabbing his teacup, carrying it over to the sink, “but I think going the corporate route might be right for me, I don’t know.”

“Don’t deflect, Olive.” He chided, rinsing out his teacup, shaking his head at my poor attempt to cover my scent.

“I’m not,” I sighed, “I answered your question.”

“I answered your question last night.” He walked over, placing a firm finger over my lips before I could open my mouth to speak.

“Go get ready. Let’s have a good day, yeah?” He nodded down at me pleased with my obedience as I tucked my tail between my legs and made my way to the bathroom.

_________________________________________

I didn’t realize the extent of his hypocrisy back then, but it was, and still is, very much alive. Maybe that’s why I was so attracted to him; the hypocrite in me recognized the one in him. Or maybe it was the way we both compartmentalized any real feelings. No regard for his wife, my reputation, his reputation. I could choose when to feel my feelings, simply sliding them back on the shelf alongside my reservations, my nervousness, my general ability to know right from wrong, and everything else in between that kept me awake at night.

I sleepwalked through the museum he took me to, the only thought occupying my brain was the way he held my hand, coaxing me along through each exhibit.

When he finally spoke, I shook my head.

“What?”

“They preached traditional family values,” he motioned up to the photo of Jackie O and her young daughter swathed in JFK’s arms, “but he definitely had a wandering dick.”

“You’re not doing much to help your case.” I unlinked from his arm, reaching out to stroke a careful finger across the canvas.

“Well, I’m not, and never have been, the president of the United States.”

“And if you were?” I looked at him from over my shoulder, a playful smirk appearing on his lips.

“You ever heard of the Code of Hammurabi?”

I shoved him playfully, “Oh, shut the fuck up.”

The rest of the afternoon took on an airy feel. We lingered in downtown Hyannis before hopping back in his car, aimlessly driving until I suggested we visit Provincetown.

“We used to stay here every summer before my parents split.” I told him, eyes peeled to the window as I looked for any familiarity in the sites around us as the city unfurled itself.

“Funny,” he looked over at me, his right hand once again finding its usual spot, cradled against the meat of my thigh, “I used to spend every summer with my family in Hyannis.”

“Is the cottage a family place?”

“Well, sort of. No one has really used it since my dad kicked the bucket.”

I didn’t expect him to reveal that kind of information to me but I went with my first instinct, questioning, figuring he wouldn’t have given me that sliver of an inkling if he didn’t want to talk about it.

“When did he die?”

“I was sixteen, maybe? Heart attack on Christmas day.”

“Ouch,” I squeezed his hand, “that’s personal.”

“He was older.” He added, fingertips thrumming the dash and his thumb held closely to the wheel.

I nodded along, not really sure if treading lightly or shutting up altogether was the better option.

I looked over at him, my eyes wide, “That’s scandalous, honestly, but I’m more worried about the bed we slept in.”

“Pretty sure the sheets have been washed in the last forty years, Olivia.” He squeezed my thigh reassuringly.

“Some stains never come clean, Jeryd.”

Ironically enough, I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the stain that blemished my soul by proving that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree in his regard.

He smirked at me as he parallel parked on a side street.

We decided to hold off on eating until it cooled off, the June heat hitting its peak around the time we set off downtown, making us both amble in and out of the gift shops littering Commercial Street for any relief from its bleating rays.

“I could’ve spent the afternoon fucking you in the air conditioning, you know?” He grumbled as we walked back out into the heat.

I stopped, looking over at him, “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it was,” he grabbed my hand, pulling me closer to him, “but now we’re here.”

He eased behind me, hands on my hips, walking single file as a sea of tourists came our way.

“I could be right here,” he purred into my ear, his left hand snaking around my waist below my navel, applying pressure right at my pubic bone, “right where you like me.”

I looked around, sighing at the prospect of fucking him in the bathroom of a building that appeared to be painted with every color of the rainbow.

“How fucking old are we?” I asked as he dragged me inside the multi flavor shop, forgoing a response to the lady behind the counter as she waved and greeted us, her glazed over eyes following us with curiosity.

“Old enough to know better,” he flung the bathroom door open, slamming and locking it behind him as I backed myself up against the sink, “too stupid to care.”

It wasn’t long until he was fucking into me from behind, his hands grasped onto the porcelain basin as his nose found a place at the shell of my ear, occasionally rutting against the hair there.

Each time one of us glanced at the other in the mirror, we would laugh, each thrust distorting the sound amongst the sea of stickers, particularly ones that said Fuck The Patriarchy and God is a Woman, plastered along the neon tinged bathroom, the nineties track blasting loudly into the confined space.

If god was a woman, I figured, she wouldn’t be too mad at me for what I did. What I would do in the grand scheme of things.

Poetically enough, he pushed me to my knees, shoving himself into my eagerly waiting mouth. As his cock thickened and his whole body tensed, he pulled my head down to his root so he could come deeply down my throat.

A shrill knock on the door startled me and quickly scrambled to my feet, dragging my underwear ungraciously up my thighs.

“Uh, just a second!”

He clasped his belt and readjusted his shirt, reaching out to push my hair away from my face.

“Go and I’ll meet you out front.”

I nodded, cracking the door open enough so I could slide through the opening.

From behind, I didn’t immediately recognize her, but when she turned around, hands full of paraphernalia and niknaks, we both stood still, looking at one another in shock.

“Good god, Olivia, what are you doing here?!” She shoved her trinkets on an empty shelf by the bathroom door and pulled me into a hug.

“Hey, Kimmy,” I patted my step mother’s back whilst simultaneously feeling the blood drain from my face.

She pulled back to look at me, “Are you okay?”

I nodded profusely, reaching out to close the bathroom door as Jeryd tried to exit. The door unceremoniously bobbed open a few times, my hand applying more and more pressure against its spine as he tried the doorknob and I watched in absolute horror as Kimmy looked from me and over my shoulder as the door pounded on its frame.

“Had some bad oysters. You definitely do not want to go in there.” I lied, rubbing my stomach for a dramatic effect.

She nodded, eyes widening as she spoke, “Looks like they’re really putting up a fight.”

Once Jeryd really put his back into it, I went flying forward, the door creaking open as he walked out.

“Those aren’t bad looking oysters.” Kimmy commented, a smirk appearing on her face as she sized Jeryd up.

_________________________________________

“Look who I found,” Kimmy announced as my father’s head swiveled around at the sound of her voice.

“Ollie!” He was on his feet in an instant, arms wrapping around me, lifting me off the ground momentarily.

“Hi,” I squeaked out, finding my footing as Jeryd shoved his hands deeply in his pockets. An unsettling smile pulled at his lips as he watched the scene unfold.

“What are you doing up here?” He asked and I looked over at Jeryd again like he was about to be my savior through the awkwardly crushing scene.

“Field trip,” I shrugged, “We broke off from some of the students to grab a bite to eat and ran into Kimmy.”

“Liv had bad oysters,” Kimmy added with a sympathetic nod, “She was absolutely dying in the bathroom when I knocked.”

Jeryd's eyes narrowed at me and I closed mine long enough to regain blood flow to my brain as it misfired along with Kimmy’s recounting of what happened.

“He’s a professor at Stony and I’ve been working with him. A bunch of us decided to, uh, come see Plymouth monument and hit the Kennedy museums.”

My father turned slightly, the heavy chair dragging across the pavement, and looked at Jeryd.

He stood, offering his hand, doing the awkward white male handshake that men of their age tend to default to.

“Why don’t you guys sit and eat with us?”

I looked at Jeryd for any sign of confirmation but he very much let me know, silently, of course, with a look, that I was in the lead here. When I sat down, he pulled a chair from the table beside ours and pushed it next to mine.

I heard my father explain something about an annual car show and if I spoke to my dad regularly, maybe I would’ve been able to avoid running into him altogether. Other than that, their words were muffled. My inner monologue bleating, debating on fleeing the scene altogether, I wished for nothing more than to be a man in that moment. Men don’t care when things are awkward, and from an outsider’s perspective, nothing was wrong at the table. But the way Kimmy looked at me, the way her eyes dragged along my face, I knew she would eventually want to know what exactly I was doing and who I was doing it with.

Somewhere between the constant droning about the weather, the political climate, and shared similarities, Jeryd and my father finally shut up. Their constant chatter had been filler for me, and I suddenly felt small when they all looked at me, waiting as if I was supposed to chime in.

“I think that dinner reservation is ready, Professor.”

Jeryd cleared his throat, “Right, of course, it was nice to meet you both.”

We both rose, him stepping back enough to give me space for goodbye embraces, listening to me make excuse after excuse as to why I hadn’t been to visit them.

“Make sure you stay away from those bad oysters, Liv.” Kimmy called out and I waved sheepishly back at her as Jeryd and I walked in the direction where he had parked the car.

_________________________________________

The ride back to the cottage was tense and quiet. He didn’t reach over to touch me, nor did he make any effort to speak to me.

“You looked like a little kid at the adult’s table back there,” he finally said to me when we were inside the cottage, staring silently at one another across the kitchen bar.

“What?” I shook my head, scoffing at him.

“You just,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “you locked up. I’ve never seen you look so small.”

I shrugged, looking away from him in what I would describe now as hot, bubbling shame.

“I fucked up by bringing you here.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked into the living room.

“What was I supposed to do?!” I cried out, following him closely. “She saw us basically come out of the bathroom together.”

“You could have, I don’t know, let me walk away like I was trying to do.” He turned around and looked at me and for the first time, I saw him genuinely upset.

“But, no,” he continued, “you had to drag me right down with you, didn’t you?” He spat.

I laughed incredulously at him, all the while stepping closer and closer to where he stood. “Yeah, like you haven’t been dragging me to hell everyday since I’ve known you!”

He let out a shrill laugh, his canines showing, before leaning down closely into my face, “You know what this has always been about. You made your choice. You’re happy to take the perks that come with being my mistress. Don’t act like you’re some poor, innocent woman. You always knew exactly what this was, what we are.”

“Perks?! There are perks,” I let out a shaky laugh, “Please tell me what they are and where the fuck I can find them!”

He shook his head, walking over toward the window, maintaining a safe amount of distance from me.

“I swear to god, the only thing that would make you happy is if I slapped a collar and leash on you and led you around town all night.” He said with a groan.

“The only thing that would make me happy is if you weren’t such a lying hypocrite.” I stalked back towards the bedroom in a fury, grabbing my overnight bag, stuffing my strewn out contents wherever they would fit, dragging it to the bathroom to grab my toiletries and dirty clothes.

“What are you doing?” He appeared in the doorway, a look of discomfort and disdain painting his features at my very presence.

“Going home,” I brushed past him, making my way towards the living room.

“Like hell you are,” he jerked the bag I was holding, effectively pulling me back to him like a rubberband threatening to snap.

“Is this how you act every time your wife leaves?” I jerked the bag again but I was no match against his ironclad grip. “You do her like this?”

I watched as he unzipped the bag, dumped it upside down, the contents hitting the floor like broken glass at our feet.

“A fucking mission trip?” I laughed at him, “She fucking left you and it’s no goddamn wonder!”

He pressed me against the wall, his forearms resting on either side of my head as he seethed down at me. His jaw clenched and for a moment, I closed my eyes, gearing up for whatever he was about to unleash upon me.

“You let my mother fill your head with fucking delusions and get disappointed when I don’t meet your expectations.”

I shook my head, “I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”

He moved away from me, allowing me to sidestep him, easing my way into the bedroom across the hall. When I locked the door, I heard him sigh, a heavy hand smacking against the door caused me to jump.

“I’ve never cried because of someone’s lack of feelings for me, you know? I’ve never had anyone to cry over in that regard. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so help me god through this embarrassment.” I yelled at the door, hearing him sigh again, footfalls growing more distant as he walked through the house and away from the scene.

Eventually I fell asleep in one of the twin beds, its stale sheets and comforter providing me with a false sense of comfort amongst the discord.

_________________________________________

I woke up on my side facing the wall. For the most part, I slept contentedly, only waking when I heard Jeryd messing with the door, the knob jingling erratically as he tried unsuccessfully to pick the lock. I thought about asking him to stop a few times, wondering why he even gave a solitary fuck about getting inside, but realized my silence was far more personal than any words I could mutter.

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.”

I jumped as he spoke from behind me, rolling over to see that he had crammed himself in the opposite twin bed, legs bent and arms crossed against his chest, his words making him grimace as if his own honesty was poisoning him.

“Don’t,” I shook my head, “it’s too late for a death row confession.”

“I just spent three hours breaking into this room to get to you.” He sat up and looked at me, head cocking to the side when I didn’t flinch at his declaration, “I thought about leaving you here last night, you know?

I rolled my eyes, sighing. “I wish you would have.”

“I made a shitty decision and you’re a testament to that matter, but you don’t get to decide my feelings for you.” He said, finally looking comfortable enough to continue, “I may not sail a thousand ships for you, but if I didn’t give a fuck, I wouldn’t have continued this past the first night.”

Somehow over the course of us staring at one another silently, gauging eachother’s temperaments, he made his way over to my respective bed, climbing in behind me, molding himself around my body.

I listened intently as he told me about his train wreck of a marriage, “I chose my wife because she provided stability and consistency and safety and kindness and support. We were not exactly madly in love when we married. Our marriage was based on a set of rational, mutually beneficial criteria and we’ve built it from there. I make no claim that it is a passionate, fiery love. But we do love each other,” his long term political goals, cackling shrilly when he told me he would be president one day and would take me to the White House with him.

“She will wise up and leave me in the next few years.” He said in regards to his wife.

It was stupid to indulge myself in his fantasy but it felt good.

He told me how he and his brother used to lay in the twin beds, cooking up ideas on how they could both be President at the same time. Jason, who I later learned was the other set of initials on the doorframe, gave up and decided on being a professional baseball player sometime after he turned fourteen, giving it up altogether to become a lawyer once most of his childish notions left him. But Jeryd, he clung to his dream, and I felt somewhat flattered that he decided to share it with me.

It was far-fetched, but so was the idea of us laying together, spinning our web of lies, content to fall even deeper without any regard for how hard the impact would be when we landed.

Eventually we both fell asleep with his aspirations in full force in the background.

_________________________________________

Leaving the cottage felt almost bittersweet. On one hand, I felt like I had survived a war, and on the other, I felt like we had made a breakthrough of sorts amongst the rubble we were leaving behind.

Before we left, though, he made it a point to back me up against the guestroom’s door frame, marking my height against the wood, my full adult height paling in comparison to the teenage boy’s marked far above.

“A little pointless, don’t you think?” I asked as I turned around and watched as he marked my initials above the new line.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “You’ll be back and we will see if you’ve grown any.”

I rolled my eyes, “Maybe they’ll turn this place into a museum once you’re president and I will forever be emblazoned into American history.”

He managed to crack a smile at me before carrying my bag out to the car.

The ride back to Stony Brook felt shorter than it had on the way to Hyannis. We stopped once for gas and another time so we could climb in the backseat and fuck once we both realized we had gone twenty four hours without touching one another and the prospect of reentering secretive society really took hold.

We made plans to run together the following morning as we said our goodbyes in the university’s parking lot. I took the long way home once I was back in my car, timing it perfectly as I watched his front door close as I pulled into my driveway.

Only this time, his car wasn’t the only car parked in his driveway.

Taglist: @aurorag98

#jeryd mencken #jeryd mencken x ofc #olive I feel you sis #justin kirk #fic recs

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prapaiwife · 3 years ago

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I know I just talked about this BUT NO KINNPORSCHE THIS WEEK SO IM GONNA SPECULATE THIS SCENE LOL so first of all kinn looks fineee in all black but we know that, and where are they did vegas come in on Porsche or was it like he was following him cause he's gonna be under Porsche for his father's request and personally for himself for his reasons, and PRIOR TO THIS I FEEL LIKE WE GONNA SEE KINN LIKE BE SO IN DISTRESS OR MAYBE NOT SINCE HE SEEMS THE TYPE TO BE LOOKING FINE ON THE OUTSIDE BUT INSIDE HE'S ACTUALLY THE OPPOSITE, cause vegas Being there is adding fuel to the fire like I wanna see kinn jealous low-key like the thought of vegas taking Porsche is something off the table he don't anyone let alone vegas of all ppl to be near him like he's mad at Porsche probably cause he's like why are u with him, is their something going on, instigating Porsche that he's doing something with vegas,which makes Porsche slap him and tell him u don't trust me or u never trust me which turns into a makout session which WHAT WHEN HOW LIKE THAT SLAP AND VEGAS BEING THERE THAT BUILD UP SHEESH,

ALSO IM CURIOUS IS THIS SCENE GONNA BE BEFORE OR AFTER KINN &PORSCHE DO ANYTHING (U KNOW WHAT I MEAN LOL) CAUSE THAT WOULD BE EVEN MORE TENSE OR PIROR LIKE THIS HAPPENS WHICH LEADS TO THEM GETTING CLOSER👀CAUSE THEIR HANDS PORSCHES HANDS ON HIS NECK AND KINN HANDS IN HIS HAIRR

#kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #mile phakphum romsaithong #apo nattawin wattanagitiphat #mileapo

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vvh0adie · 10 months ago

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imma be honest, this why i stay off twitter/tik tok/insta

i’ve never seen a those army who aren’t black -especially african american- have a good take on our music

they’ll analyze the fuck out some bts lyrics but drop the ball everywhere else and even then they can’t apply what they’ve picked up onto any western artists rap song. rhythm, lyricism, and flow stay kicking’ they ass. you ask them about amygdala and they get that, but bring up kody blu 31 and it’s silent

and don’t ever bring up a YB song or even Project Pat because they turn they ears off cuz they can’t get past the violence as if that’s not the reality. “the lyrics aren’t deep” 👀 you can’t say you know rap and not look at one of the subgenres that pioneered it. gangsta rap is intrinsically tied to blackness and the material struggles we face as a people

we can joke about yoongi being a gangsta but the real ones scare you? love a meme, edit, fic but hate the actual people who can’t escape that shit fr. the cosplay is tiring. if anything these army treat bts like minstrels. you can’t want the blues without the struggle. and bts seems to get that despite a majority of their fans not

it’s always so strange to watch in real time, and it must be even crazier to see your fanbase shitting on rapper’s rappers. i’d be like “did i not teach the children right? was Hip Hop Phile not enough? was Change ft Wale not enough? was Stop not enough? was What If not enough?” *bewildered*

but we not gon get too deep about how them first three albums are not as popular because they sound too reminiscent of a very crucial era in black music before its commercialization and how HYYH rebranded them as a pop because people love to use blackness as a launch board before they discard it, only difference is it stayed in them boys and they’ve been sprinkling it in. Bang PD saw a opportunity business wise and he took it and i can’t be mad cuz then they wouldn’t be as big😭

he had to tone them down a little for their own good. sending them to an american rap boot camp made them feral then they had to fight off soundcloud rappers? wannabes who didn’t understand what they KNEW and WHO taught them? this k-pop shit was just a platform for them to be a big ass megaphone, but PD gave them a microphone and some army said “dance monkey” as if that ain’t the opposite of what was supposed to happen. they was a rap group that gracefully transitioned into a pop group😭

they made due and got fame but what do you do with a group of people who like you but fervently hate what made you? do they even like you then? or do they like what they’ve cultivated on their own from a screen and 8ft barricades from a stage? parasocial relationships would rattle my self identity, so i commend them😮‍💨

the language of disestablishment in their music is very much still there but i think it didn’t really stick with some army because its not in your face and they could really give two fucks. it was hidden behind soft melodies or upbeat raps and that’s what army wanna see🫠

“y’all not hearing me, you just wanna dance” music😭 cuz NO was their FUCK THE POLICE and then something shifted

i recognize that it has always been prevalent in raplines solo work. and i always wonder if they felt it was too much for the group work. because they’re an international band and i think if they were western based (and black) a lot of their songs wouldn’t be popular globally. theres a kind of infantilization that occurs in k-pop that i think is built in. and you have to be palpable and please a large group of different beliefs. but with a huge platform they’re gon make sure they give back to the culture. anytime they’ve collaborate with a black artist there’s been backlash because army scared we gon corrupt bts as if that shit ain’t already done😭 (i’m still mad about Change pt 2 not having wale cuz y’all couldn’t not be racist🫠 missed the point of Change)

i don’t think they’ll ever leave k-pop but if they became krap artists, they would probably foster a multicultural space better than one particular man. and we’d get some korean heritage appreciation that isn’t gun trills, durags, and locs 🧍🏾‍♀️

like if we really got to see how they felt, i think a lot of it wouldn’t be socially acceptable. and i would even go as far to say that because most army associate rapline in their soloist role as just an extension of bts, they don’t really see that some of the shit they be spitting is actually comparative or more violent than your tradition trap/gangsta rapper

some of the shit yoongi says scares me, especially on a existential level and i think if he got with a rapper who’s actually gangbanged, we’d get something that would make us see him differently because i just know he has more to gripe with society than the music industry and capitalism. like their was only so much they could say back then and i imagine the military is really going to shape a couple tracks

if you get nothing from this, what i’m really saying is that bts are disciples of wutang clan, nwa, bone thugs n’ harmony, dead prez, and three 6 mafia behind closed doors😭

a pivotal moment in my life was when the tannies were doing an interview and they asked them what they been listening to and joonie was like pop smoke and i think yoongi said lil tjay and polo g bc like they get it they really do

#of vice #lol i’m done… for today

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years ago

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😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔🤧🤧🤧🤧 this was the saddest chapter so far. We all new this time would come but it definitely hurts so much.

And there are still so many things to reveal. The relationship of Loki and Priscilla is toxic, weird and she's very selfish but...and please don't despise me...I can understand her in some ways. Of course it's not okay how she treated Loki when he didn't want to sleep with her. A loving wife would have understood him, had talked with him ' he wished that she understood how traumatic this was for him. You would have, you always did' but for her this situation isn't easy as well.

I'm not sure about her feelings for Loki and I don't know how honest she is and how trustworthy but sometimes you are hurt so bad that you want to hurt the people around you even more.

We don't know anything about their relationship, how Loki get there ( I still have my theory 😎) how they got to know each other. What are the motives they married. Is it really his child, why doesn't he look like Loki, gave Loki him just an æsir look, did he adopt the kid, did Priscilla nearly die when she gave birth and Loki healed her, saved her and the baby and are they only together because Loki felt responsible for them ? I don't think that Priscilla cheated on Loki....until I change my mind again🤣🤣🤣 Oh my, I think I'm going to far into it 😆🤣

I feel so sad for y/n. I'm sure she and Loki are made for each other, the feelings they have for each other are honest, deep and feel so right.. y/n shouldn't feel guilty. She never forced Bluey/Loki to do things he didn't want to do too. She saved him, he's thankful and deep inside he always knew she's THE ONE.

'...I refuse to believe that we did something horrible, it wasn't wrong...it never felt wrong to me' infact he has never felt so right in his life

The whole goodbye scene shattered my heart in pieces 😭😭💔💔💔 and it had me sobbing 🤧🤧🤧 (you wrote a masterpiece here again, my Queen 👑)

'Darling....Cat will miss you.....returned as Loki, someone he didn't even want to be anymore...he loved you so much...he never fell in love before he found you '

Y/n is going to have a total breakdown when she opens the door of her apartment...all the memories she made with Bluey, the freezer, Cat, the notifications she collected in the box, the framed 'I love you, Bluey 💙'

'...as he watched your car fade away in the distance and his home driving further away from him more and more...' 💔🖤💔🖤💔

I love the idea that Bruce might call Loki because he must heal y/n's broken heart....and at least his own heart too...we all know you can die because of a broken heart 💔🤧....and that could be the way they meet again 🥺💚💙❤️❤️‍🩹

'...wishing that he had never gotten his memories back. Then maybe, just maybe, you both could have had your forever, together.'

What a chapter, my Lady, you gave me all the feelings and tears I craved for 😁😏. You always keep your promises 💕💚💙💔. I'm looking forward to the next one 😊....because I need moooore...😆🥰

Baby I would never despise or be mad at you for having a different interpretation about these characters (EXCEPT LOKI..SAY A WORD AGAINST MY MUFFIN AND I KILL) 😂

I'm just kidding. As a wife her jealousy and hurt is completely valid, as y/n said she would feel the same if the situation were to be opposite. But did she convey those feelings in the right way? No. She didn't even ask him where he was and what did he suffer, she initiated sex instead and when he told her that he was exhausted (which was an excuse NGL) instead of being mature about it she threw a tantrum. I mean if my husband returned with a memory loss and another woman I wouldn't do what she did but like you said maybe she's just hurting others because she's hurt 👀

About their relationship, we will find out more soon but you are not far too off with your theories 👀

He knows she's the one and she's the one he had wanted all his life, but he is bound to someone and that's not something he can just ignore as much as he'd want to.

You are absolutely right about the breakdown that's coming ❤️‍🩹😞💔

I'm so happy with the reaction to this chapter, absolutely getting high on all the praise so thank you so much my dear ❤️🤗 love youuuuu 🫂🥶💙

#asks #mcufan72 #hear me now

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id-rather-be-an-outsider · 3 years ago

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The Escape

word count: 3057

summary: Nancy Wheeler has been in the Fog for a long time, and while she’s been there, she’s been taking notes. now, she’s thinks she’s found a way out - a real way out.

a/n: I originally posted this on the DBD Amino for the #AStrangeFarewell challenge back in November 2021. It features three of my OCs - Najma Ali, The Scarecrow, and an upcoming OC 👀 hope you like it!

masterlist

Nancy Wheeler was a peculiar thing. Bold, yet quiet, calculating and inquisitive. Every decision she had ever made in life involved thorough research and heavily weighing out the options before her. She hadn’t considered the option of ending up in the Fog, however, and the only option she’d considered since arriving there was escaping the Entity’s Realm.

She knew everything there was to know about the Fog - or at least, everything she could find from scraps her predecessors left behind before descending into complete madness. After that, she was unsure, but she knew she couldn’t stop. She could never stop, not until she found a way out of the hell of monotony, torture and depression that was the Entity’s Realm.

One day, Nancy noticed some things changed - a new killer and survivor arrived on the scene, and the survivor almost always made a beeline for the killer in every trial. At first, Nancy thought Najma was just trying to keep the killer distracted, but that once upon a time didn’t last. When she heard Najma speaking to the Scarecrow during one of their trials, it made her blood boil.

“Oasis, I know you’re in there - if you could just talk to me, tell me that this isn’t your choice, I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m not the person you’d probably hope to see, but-” Najma’s voice broke off as Nancy heard the whiff of a knife while she hid in a locker, rage building inside her.

‘How could she make friends with the enemy?’ Nancy thought to herself, ‘Why do we have to suffer for her batshit crazy ideas?’

Panting, Najma tried to continue. “No matter what happens, I’m going to get you out of here. I promise. No matter how many times you kill me, no matter how many times we’re stuck in one of these trials together, I don’t care - you’re all that matters to me.” It may have seemed traitorous to Nancy, but for Najma, finding the Scarecrow and trying to reason with her every match was her duty. Besides, it’s not like it hurt anyone. Well, anyone aside from Najma herself.

It would have been romantic, had the recipient of those kind words not then cut Najma down, throwing her on a hook mere moments later. Nancy ignored Najma’s screams of agony, opting instead to repair a generator near the hook, in turn warding off other survivors from rescuing the traitor. She didn’t bat an eye when the dark bombshell was sacrificed to the Entity, and she certainly didn’t trust her or help her in any trials afterward. Najma didn’t notice the change until a few trials later, and from then on she gave Nancy a wide berth, staying far away from her and only interacting when absolutely necessary. Najma didn’t know what Nancy had against her, but she could tell it wasn’t good. Did she know? Did everyone know?

Nancy’s choice to not inform the others of Najma’s true motive for entering the Entity’s Realm after they got back to the campfire was entirely for her personal gain, or so she’d told herself. She had dirt on Najma that no one else did, and she could use that dirt to get more information on an escape. That was what Nancy told herself to feel strong, cunning, shrewd. Najma was filled to the brim with anxiety in every trial, and back at the campfire with all the other survivors. As the weeks went on, though, she worried less and less about anyone at camp finding out about her choice to try and help Oasis.

The truth was Nancy was too weak to tell anyone. She didn’t have it in her to make an outcast of someone - not when she wasn’t absolutely sure why Najma was trying to reason with the opposition. Maybe others like Yun-Jin would be more keen on an opportunity like that, but Nancy held her humanity like a treasure, something valued higher than jewels.

In the Fog nothing mattered aside from a few hours of existence in the trials, so one created meaning and purpose where they could. For Nancy, that was maintaining some form of compassion, though she had been stuck there for so long she was sure her definition of compassion had slowly twisted into something selfish and somewhat cruel, at worst, and at best, a laughable version of inaction and sympathy.

When a young David Tapp stepped into the Fog looking for the same ‘Oasis’ person, Nancy knew she’d been right in keeping quiet, and when the others mentioned how crazy he was in thinking there was a way out of the Fog, she nodded along in agreement. At the same time, she took notes, listened to his rants and let him talk about the person he loved and how she was stuck somewhere in the Fog. He kept mentioning religion, demons, deities, and Nancy wished so badly to be able to tell him everything she knew.

Eventually, she did. She could tell Detective Tapp didn’t want to trust her, he seemed to think of everyone in the Fog as shifty. And he didn’t trust her. Tapp knew he only had one goal: To find Oasis and get out. To be fair, Nancy didn’t feel comfortable trusting most people there, either. Steve was the only person she was close to, and for good reason - she didn’t know anyone else in the Fog. Not them, not their pasts, and if Najma was a lesson, contained within the pasts of every person in the Fog was a reason for them being brought to the Entity’s Realm in the first place. She never was quite sure if she wanted to know the survivors’ reasons why, and she could only guess at some of the killers’.

Nonetheless, the two became partners. A detective and an aspiring journalist turned out to be quite the team - Nancy didn’t think she’d ever found information half as quickly as she did working together with Tapp. Even if their journeys were separate, they both had the same goal. Everything was great, until the hotshot detective started appearing less and less, and finally vanished, along with the Scarecrow. The farmland mockery wasn’t missed much by Nancy, but she also knew not to celebrate; one missing killer would soon be replaced by ten more, they always were. Tapp’s disappearance was disheartening - did he leave her behind? Did he get sent to the void? What happened?

What Nancy had yet to find out, was that the resourceful Tapp had finally gotten rid of the Scarecrow’s mask and helped her find her humanity. Together, they left the Fog behind, and were relishing in every moment they had together, finding comfort in being together after what felt like an eternity in the Entity’s Realm.

Nancy’s mind was nothing but scribbles. The next time she saw Steve, he handed her a note. “Tapp told me to give this to you when I saw you next.” Nancy thanked him heartily and poured over the note.

Instructions and advice were listed, and at the end of it, something more personal. ‘You didn’t have to help me, but you did, and for that I can only thank you. I was able to save the woman I love from a fate worse than death, and nothing I can do will ever repay you for that. Your comrade, Detective David Tapp.’ It was the first time Nancy had smiled since entering the Fog, and one of only a few times where she felt any real hope for getting out of there.

David Tapp’s escape with Oasis, the Scarecrow, or whatever she was supposed to call her, filled Nancy with resolve. She memorized those instructions and ripped the note at the bottom off, folding it and tucking it deep into her jean pocket for safe keeping. She knew that was something she would want to take with her back into reality. She couldn’t believe that the Entity’s Realm was a real place, not after what she’d already faced in the Upside Down. She didn’t know if she could bear it. Probably not, there weren’t many things that made her unsure of herself, so if it was causing doubt… our dear Nancy didn’t want to think about it.

Her last match ever was a bust. It was down to her and Najma, and there were still three generators left. Then two, but both of them had been injured, Nancy running from a tall figure with a cane, who could trick you into seeing things that weren’t really there. He sent chills down her spine, the way he was always calling for someone named Alayna… it seemed like almost everyone in the Fog was connected to someone else.

Her thoughts betrayed her focus and she didn’t anticipate the Man-in-the-Moon cutting her off while she rounded one of the playgrounds. With one swipe of his cane, he felled her, and Nancy felt herself being constricted by his vicious snake, as she lay there writhing on the ground. All she could think about was how much she needed to survive, so she could have the best start possible before the Entity noticed her trying to escape.

She heard a loud yell in the distance, the killer roaring in anger from a trap set on a generator he damaged. If she weren’t fighting for her life, Nancy might have snickered at his expense, but as it were, she was rather wrapped up in a previous engagement.

Soon the dark, brown eyes of Najma Ali came into view, her outfit just as unsuitable as ever for the rugged environment as evidenced by the blood splattered on it, but she supposed the model had enough experience traipsing about in overdone getups to be able to choose her outfits without receiving any criticisms from Nancy. Najma’s dainty, delicately manicured hands pulled Nancy out of the illusion by grabbing Nancy’s own hands from around her neck. “It’s just a glamour, Nancy. It’s not real.”

“Easy for you to say when I’m the one stuck in it,” Nancy replied with a roll of her eyes. Najma bit her lip, forehead creased in annoyance, and stood up from her crouched position to walk away. Nancy felt a twinge of guilt pulling at her gut, so she called after the whirlwind of a woman. “Najma, wait!”

With as much attitude and spunk as ever, Najma stopped in her tracks, making a show of rotating to face the shorter girl, her only response being her hands placed on her hips and a raise of the eyebrows. Nancy carefully proceeded.

“I… I know you came here looking for Oasis, to get her out. I’ve known for a long time, now, though I can’t be sure exactly how long given how the Fog works.” Hope beamed within her, hoping for another piece of information.

Najma’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”

“I heard you talking to her once,” Nancy replied, then added: “But if I didn’t know, you would’ve told me as much right now. Guard your secrets more carefully, Ali.”

“Pleased with yourself?” Najma asked her, scowling. “I always knew you’ve never much cared for me. Your disdain was obvious.”

“That’s… not what I’m trying to say.” Nancy sighed as they moved at a crawling pace to the next generator, knowing that stealth was a better strategy while they had the disadvantage. “I’m trying to lead up to the fact that I know what happened to the Scarecrow, why she vanished. Do you know of a David Tapp?”

She scoffed, annoyance in every line of her face. “Oh, I know him. Don’t tell me, he sent you into the Fog as some sort of assistant?”

Nancy shook her head, and she swore Najma’s sigh was one of relief. “I never had any real world connection to or knowledge of him, no. But he came here, and he saved her. He got them out.”

“And they left me?” Her response sounded distant, hurt, like the news had inflicted a deep wound in her heart. Nancy only looked down, guilt filling her features. That was all the confirmation Najma needed to know the worst had happened. No, the worst would have been Oasis being lost forever, but this was worse. The girl might have been okay if Oasis had gotten out on her own, but to be left behind by that pair? It stung, in all honesty.

Najma forced herself to perk up. “Well then. That leaves only myself to worry about. He didn’t leave any advice, did he?”

Nancy shook her head, ‘no,’ and was glad she was a good liar. For research purposes, of course. She couldn’t have Najma steal her own instructions. “I do have something, though. I haven’t seen my friend, Steve, in some time. Do you think… you could give him this?” Nancy pulled her journal out from her jacket pocket, passing it to Najma. “It’s his, but he let me borrow it.”

Najma raised a skeptical brow at her. “If this makes us even? Sure.”

Nancy replied, “Oh, it’ll make us even, alright. I’ll owe you one.” Najma pondered on it a moment, then nodded her head determinedly.

They completed the next generator after toiling for some time, and Nancy noticed that Najma had lost the pep in her step. It may have been harsh, but in her mind, Najma should have seen it coming. Whatever rivalry between the two for Oasis, one was clearly capable of solving the puzzle of this mist, whereas the other… wasn’t.

This change in Najma ended up being Nancy’s saving grace, as the killer found them before the gates could be powered, and Nancy could hear Najma’s wails of pain as she made an escape through the hatch. She told herself it was all to make the real escape.

Nancy wished that she could give Steve more advice, but there was only so much she even knew herself - Tapp’s ‘instructions’ weren’t so much legitimate instructions as they were a step-by-step hypothesis to what would probably happen if Nancy did which thing in what order. She only hoped they worked.

Retracing his steps proved more difficult than she’d thought, not that Nancy thought it would be easy. Getting alone in the Fog, finding a suitable offering, finding the right kind of place, doing the ritual - it felt like it took forever. It could’ve, considering time in the Entity’s Realm seemed to act a bit strange.

With a stick, Nancy drew two circles - a smaller one to hold the sacrifice, and a larger one for her to stand in. In the smaller circle, she placed a crow she’d found and nearly killed, leaving it only just alive.

Then, she poured a handful of maggots on the crow, giving them time to start burrowing in. The Entity liked pain and suffering, and according to Tapp’s notes, suffering at the hands of others was especially sweet. The crow cried out, cawing in pain as it tried to get on its feet, or fly away, but neither were feasible. It no longer had legs to walk on and its wings were clipped. Eventually, the wretched creature ceased its thrashing, the pain to great to fight.

Nancy didn’t think she’d ever heard a bird moan before, but she knew she never wanted to hear it again. Tears trickled down her dirt covered face as she recited ancient words from a language no one knew other than the tall woman whose limbs had gone necrotic long ago. The Survivors called her the Plague, since she carried sickness with her everywhere she went. Sometimes Nancy wondered what it was like to be a leper among lepers, but she never pitied the Plague for very long once they faced her in a trial.

She finished the ritual and sat, waiting and waiting for the poor bird to finally die. The sins she committed in the name of freedom felt like too great a price to pay, once she stared them in the face, their eyes growing more and more dull. She didn’t want to think about the number of people in the Fog who stooped to such deplorable lows in the name of escape, or just survival. She didn’t want to think about what might have happened to them afterwards, or to their victims.

Finally, a curling tendril of mist floated down from the sky, meandering through the air to hover just above the crow. For a minute, nothing happened aside from the crow falling silent. Then the mist expanded, enveloping the crow in itself, and Nancy heard the bird panic once more. When the mist cleared, the crow had feet and wings again. It was much larger than normal and looked like a sick amalgamation of brambles, crawling maggots, feathers and sinews of flesh, a slick black substance flowing throughout. The feet were also constructed of the same oily substance, and when the crow got up, it looked at Nancy with one beady, maggot-filled eye, cawing in hello. It turned its back to Nancy, giving a flap of its wings and gazing at her expectantly.

Cautiously, she reached out to the crow, and laid a hand on its giant back. The crow sat patiently, unmoving, and Nancy took it as her invitation to timidly climb on the giant rotting bird. She tried not to gag at the idea of the crawling vermin and potential diseases festering literally right under her nose, and pulled her sleeves up over her hands to create a barrier between her and the rot as she held on tight.

With a piercing cry, the crow’s powerful wings lifted Nancy up, up, up into the sky, and soon the two flew into the thick, all-encompassing fog. Nancy’s next sensation was hearing the rustling of leaves, the wind blowing, the birds chirping, and the occasional car ambling down a nearby road. She realized she was looking ahead, and when she turned behind her, not an inch of Fog was in sight, the only sight being the end of a meadow of freshly-bloomed wild flowers. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath, and when she exhaled, a smidge of a smile began to creep into her features, relief drawing salty tears out of the corners of her eyes.

A familiar voice said, “Nancy Wheeler?”

#outsider writes #dbd #dead by daylight #dbd nancy #nancy wheeler #dbd the scarecrow #dbd david tapp #detective david tapp #david tapp #dbd najma ali #David Tapp x Oasis O’Flann #dbd stranger things

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