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bi-bard · 5 months ago

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On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’ - Scott Imagine [Twisters]

Title: On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’

Pairing: Scott [Twisters] X Reader

Word Count: 3,126 words

Warning(s): argument, grabbing someone's wrist

Summary: [Somewhat inspired by "Too Easy" by Tanner Adell] When a new company rolls into town during tornado season, Tyler's team is curious. Perfect uniforms, all looking ready for picture wasn't exactly the normal look for tornado chasing. (Y/n) volunteers to be the one to gather some much-needed intel, doing whatever they need to in order to get it.

Author's Note: I have about five Twisters imagines in my drafts right now.

Listen. I'm have something cute about this guy in my drafts, but he pissed me off in this movie, so I have to get that shit out first. It's part of my process.

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There was always a lot of energy during tornado season, but nothing beat the feelings on those first few days.

There was all this hope. This adrenaline going for something that hadn't even happened yet. A little while in, you would get an idea about how the season was going to go. The not-knowing before that was the best part. Endless possibilities and all that.

All that to explain that it felt normal for our team to be jumping off the walls like kids in a candy shop when we first all made it to Oklahoma.

Boone and Tyler were sorting out the truck. Dexter and Dani were making sure the trailer was stocked with merch and food for those who needed it. I hadn't been given a task, so I was left to pretty much my own devices. As a result, Lily was left working on her drone while I talked her ear off. She didn't seem to mind it.

I looked up over her head to see a group of white trucks and vans pulling up. Nice ones. Clean, new. I saw the logo slapped on the side.

"What in the hell is Storm Par," I asked.

"What?" Lily looked at me before immediately turning to the other vehicles. "No idea."

"Hey, Tyler!" I walked over to the truck.

"What's going on? Sugar high crashing?"

"Very funny," I replied before pointing to the white vehicles. "Who's Storm Par?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "No idea. Look like a big corporation."

A group of men started climbing out of the vehicles.

"Woah," he muttered.

"Proper science fair dudes," I commented. "Bet you twenty bucks that they have pocket protectors."

Tyler reached out and whacked my shoulder. "Be nice."

"Fine," I grumbled as he turned back to the truck.

I caught one of the men staring at me. He was tall and seemed to have a completely emotionless face. His clothes were neat, perfectly pressed. When he saw that I had noticed him, he had turned away from me, going to follow his team into the gas station.

"Want me to get intel?"

Tyler chuckled. "Intel? What year do you think it is? We can look them up tonight."

"Yeah, but I just caught one of their boys staring at me," I explained. "Let me do it; it'll kill two birds with one stone."

I heard Boone laugh from the other side of the truck. "I love the way you think!"

"Thanks, Boone."

"Alright, fine," Tyler relented. "But hurry up, we gotta get going."

"Thank you," I said. "Anyone want a drink?"

"Get me a Mountain Dew!" Boone called. I pointed at him and nodded.

"Be back in a minute!"

I walked back to the fridges along the back wall. I saw the man who had stared at me was now standing by the fridges.

I stood next to him. "Hey there."

He didn't respond, just staring straight ahead at the fridge. I had to hold in my laugh as I stepped forward to grab two Mountain Dews.

"Did Storm Par put a ban on talking to other tornado chasers," I asked. He didn't reply again. "Or are you just scared? Promise I don't bite."

"I'm not scared," he replied.

"Oh my goodness, he speaks." I placed a hand over my chest to pretend to be shocked. I chuckled at his clearly unimpressed expression before holding my hand out. "(Y/n)."

"Scott." he shook my hand before very quickly pulling it back.

"Nice to meet you, Scott," I said. "So, what exactly is Storm Par?"

"We track tornados so the data can be used for research."

"Real specific there," I chuckled at him. "What kind of research?"

He didn't respond.

"Oh, come on, I'm not gonna steal your ideas."

"I'm not worried about it."

"Are you worried that I won't understand it? I'm smarter than I look."

He let out an amused huff before grabbing a water and starting to walk to the checkout. I followed him.

"Maybe you could explain it to me later then," I suggested, hopping in front of him just before he got in line. I smiled at his blank look. "Tonight. There's a bar not too far from here, right next to a hotel that our crew's staying at; I'll buy you a drink."

I watched as his eyes scanned me for a moment. It looked like he was trying to figure out whether or not I was tricking him. I was almost hurt. I mean, I was tricking him, but not in the way that he was assuming.

I turned around to pay for my drinks, so I could step out of the way.

"Come on," I pushed before rattling off the name of the bar. "Meet me there tonight. One drink. If I'm that bad of company, then you can leave and I won't complain once. I'll even try to stay out of your hair during the chases."

Scott took a deep breath. "Fine."

"Yes," I cheered out of mostly fake excitement. "You won't regret this."

"I hope not."

I reached out and fiddled with a button on his white shirt. Far too perfect to be out there chasing storms. "Can't wait to see how well your perfect uniforms last out there."

I stepped back, not missing how his eyes followed my hand.

"See you later, Fancy Pants!" I waved as I started running back out to Tyler's truck.

"How'd it go," Tyler asked as I hopped into the passenger seat.

"Didn't get much," I admitted, handing Boone his drink before buckling up. "But I did get him to say yes to meeting me for a drink later."

"Atta kid!" Boone clapped his hand over my shoulder.

"I know, I know, a miracle worker," I replied. "Ready to get out there?"

"Absolutely," Tyler said.

The rest of the day went so much faster than it had any right to.

We saw Storm Par a lot. It took everything in me to not be a bit of a dick when we passed them. I did wave once when I spotted Scott in the passenger seat of one of the trucks. He nodded at me in an awkward greeting, which led to him getting a bit of a weird look from the man who was driving.

"What are you doing?" Tyler laughed as I relaxed back into my seat.

"Playing with the food," Boone answered before I could, causing me to laugh loudly.

"I was gonna say 'being friendly', but that's better," I said.

Maybe that was the excitement of it all messing with my head, but it felt like it took a matter of minutes before we found ourselves driving to the bar that I had told Scott to meet me at.

I walked in ahead of the group, trying to keep from laughing at the comments that Boone was shouting over my shoulder.

I saw some of the other guys from Storm Par at a table together. At the actual bar was Scott. He looked a bit tense, almost disheartened. I started to wonder just how long he had been there. Had I kept him waiting? Did he think that I stood him up? Was that the face of stubbornness just before calling the night a bust and going back to wherever he was staying?

I guess it didn't matter now. I couldn't back out.

"Fancy pants!" I called before walking over quickly. He seemed startled as I plopped onto the barstool next to him. "How was your day?"

"You should know, you were there for most of it," he replied.

"Was that a joke or are you just annoyed with me," I asked.

"Guess you'll have to figure it out." he shrugged. I saw a small grin form as he took a sip of his drink.

I let out a scoff. "Wow, Fancy Pants is bold now. A couple of sips is all it took?"

Scott rolled his eyes. The bartender walked over to us. I just asked for the same of whatever Scott had been drinking before focusing back on the conversation.

"The uniform held up well, I see." I pulled lightly at one of the white sleeves of his shirt. "Research must not be as hands-on as I thought it was."

"We do the same thing your crew does," he argued.

"With a bigger paycheck, I'm sure," I replied.

"Our work is a bit more important."

"And what work is that?"

"Why don't you tell me about yours first?" he smirked at me before taking another sip of his drink.

He thought it was clever. I could tell. Avoid my question by focusing the attention back on me. In any other situation, it would have screwed me out of the information that I needed.

But in this one... it was a mistake.

Here's the thing: I could talk. I could go on and on for hours about absolute nonsense. I could go from story to story without taking a breath.

And I did.

I told him about all the work that we had done to help people. About digging through the destroyed debris to try and find some pieces of people's lives. About making bundles of food. Then, I just started telling stories about every funny or weird moment that had happened since I had joined Tyler's crew.

The time that I burned served me well. Scott relaxed. Whether that was a result of his drink or simply because I was earning his trust was a mystery to me. I didn't bother focusing on which it was.

"Alright, alright," I said. "That's enough about what I do. Tell me about Storm Par."

"I told you; we collect data for future tornado research," Scott replied.

"Oh, come on." I rolled my eyes. "I mean, not to be rude, but I've seen your team. You're all a bit young to be jumping into research all on your own. And Storm Par doesn't sound like a company attached to a college."

"No, no, we're a private company," he explained. "We've had some luck finding a few really interested investors."

"Like...?"

"The biggest one is Marshall Riggs. He's a big-name real estate guy."

I couldn't quite put the pieces together at the time, but I felt a pit in my stomach. Unease that formed all too fast. "What would a real estate guy want with tornado research?"

"He's helping people," Scott's response felt like an attempt to twist an image that hadn't even been made yet. "He uses it to find people that have lost their homes and businesses and such and he buys them. It allows those people to move forward with their lives without having to wait for insurance to make a call on it."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Doesn't a disaster usually force the prices down for land?"

"I mean, it's lower than the normal price. It's not like he's buying this land up for five dollars and a pack of gum."

"What other aid does Storm Par offer them then, if they're getting rid of their homes and land?"

"Our investors focus funds on the research."

"So no?"

"So we're focused on the bigger picture. More long-term consequences."

I took the subtlest deep breath that I could. "I see."

I looked down at my watch.

"Oh, look at that, it's a lot later than I thought," I said, completely lying through my teeth. "We have to head out early in the morning."

I handed my card to the bartender, muttering for him to just cover both of our drinks.

"I can walk you out," Scott replied.

"Yeah, sure, okay," I mumbled, scribbling down a tip and putting my card away.

I followed Scott outside, letting him hold the door open. I wanted to seem less tense than I was. I was doubting how well it was working, but all I needed was for it to be good enough to get out of there without being questioned, so who really cares?

We made it outside. I was about to insist that we go our separate ways for the night, but he cut me off.

"You were right," Scott said. "Didn't regret that."

"Oh, good," I replied. I may have regretted it.

There was a long pause. Scott went to step closer to me. I almost scrambled back before he could, forcing out a chuckle.

"Well, I should go." I shrugged, continuing to walk backward before eventually turning around and just calling to him over my shoulder. "Have a good night. Stay safe. See you around, fancy pants!"

A few minutes later, I was knocking on Tyler's door like I was a landlord looking for late rent.

"(Y/n), what the hell are you doing," he asked as he yanked the door open. "You're gonna piss off somebody."

"I'm already a bit pissed, so maybe it'll do some good to share the suffering," I replied before shoving my way past him. "I have answers."

"About Storm Par?"

"No about what Scott likes to do on a nice summer day- Yes about Storm Par!"

"You are grumpy when it's late." he sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Shut up," I slapped his shoulder. "I found out about Storm Par's funding."

"Okay..."

"So, yes, they do research and track the storms and report that data back to their investors," I explained. "The problem is that their major investor is named Marshall Riggs, who has apparently made quite a name for himself in real estate."

"What would he want with it?"

"Well, he's going to the places impacted by the storms and buying up land from people who lose their homes and businesses and stuff. He's apparently spinning some story that he's allowing people to move forward with their lives, but come on, he's just using this information to get his hands on cheap land."

"Do you know what he's doing with the land?"

"I didn't ask."

"Okay..."

"Storm Par is giving this man power to do some real harm here."

"I know, I know."

"So, what are we gonna do," I asked, looking at Tyler again.

"I... I don't know," he replied, running his hand over his face.

"We can't just let him keep doing this!"

"(Y/n)," he sighed. "I don't even know if this guy is doing something that's technically illegal-"

"It's still wrong!" I snapped at him.

"I know!"

I froze.

"But whatever we do won't stop him. He'll keep preying on desperate people and whatever we say won't change what impact he might have on them. They're desperate, they think they're alone."

"So we just do nothing?"

"No." Tyler shook his head. "What we can do is continue helping people."

I nodded. "I just... I feel like there's just so much more that we could do."

"In a perfect world, we would be able to speak out and it would stop him." he shrugged. "It would make him give up and walk off with his tail between his legs. But we can't. We just have to do what we can."

I took a deep breath. Tyler pulled me into a hug.

"We're doing good work. And we'll only earn more outreach. We'll continue to do better."

I stepped back. "I'm still going to be an asshole tomorrow."

"Just don't end up dead or in jail."

"I'll do my best," I shrugged before going to walk out. "Good night!"

"Night!" he called out after me.

I was hoping that the next morning would have been mostly calm. That we would get out into the field before Storm Par or vice versa. Something to keep me from having to face Scott for just a few more hours.

I was walking back to the truck after picking up some breakfast. I was occupied with my own thoughts. I was still upset. I was still fighting the urge to go scream from the rooftops about Marshall Riggs and the bullshit he was doing.

"(Y/n)!"

I considered sprinting to the truck when I heard Scott say my name. I just wasn't feeling mean enough to do that... yet.

"Scott," I said as I turned around. "How are ya?"

"Good, good, what about you?"

"I'm fine, just busy," I replied, going to step away. "Heading out early and all."

Scott stepped forward. "I was hoping to ask if you wanted to meet again tonight. Maybe dinner instead of a drink."

"I... I don't think that'd be a good idea."

His face fell. "Oh... why?"

"I just don't think we clicked like I thought we would." the goal was to maintain the peace until the end of the season. "But hey, we tried it, that's what matters. I'll... I'll see you out there."

"Did I... Did I do something wrong?"

"Nope, you were just fine. Just didn't work."

I turned to walk away but was stopped when Scott grabbed my wrist. "I don't believe that."

I yanked my arm from him. "Don't ever fucking grab me again."

"I just want the truth."

"I told you the truth." I turned away again.

I was grabbed again. "Just wait-"

I pulled my arm away and shoved him backward. "I fucking warned you to not grab me like that again."

He seemed to still be reeling from the fact that I shoved him.

"You want the truth? Fine," I shrugged. "I find your company and what it stands for to be completely despicable. I think it's disgusting that y'all would accept money to help a man take advantage of innocent people. I think it's disgusting that you don't seem to give a damn about it. If I could tear your company down, I would, but in reality, my words would never stop you or your damn investors. And I hope that one day you wake up, look in the mirror, and feel the crushing pain of all those that you helped that man manipulate."

Scott stepped forward, a response clearly ready, but he looked over my shoulder and froze.

"(Y/n), you good?" I heard Tyler's voice call over to me.

"Yeah," I yelled over my shoulder. "Just having a quick chat!"

I stepped away again, walking as quickly as I could to make it over to him and the rest of the crew.

"Didn't end up in jail," I offered, trying to look at the bright side.

"I almost did," he muttered. "Get in the truck."

I did a little salute to him before going around to the passenger seat. I saw Tyler stare down Scott for a few more seconds before hopping in the driver's seat.

Maybe there was some argument to be made about the benefits of killing someone with kindness. But that just wasn't how I operated. And I think I'm better off that way.

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brights-place · 10 months ago

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The Boondocks with an Mother figure! Reader

Pairings: Riley X Reader, Huey X Reader (All Platonic)

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing,

A/N: Man I grew up with the Boondocks! love the show so much it was so funny and still is funny to see! Anyways imma do an motherly figure! - Okay LISTEN! LISTENNN! these boys have no parents they live with their fucking grandpa so you being an motherly figure to them is... Wild! - You were their neighbor so you wanted to greet them with your S/O but he/she/they/it was too busy at work so you went to greet them by yourself - You made some Sweets and came by smiling at them as Grandpa freeman opened the door to show you smiling at him who greete d you as you exchanegd conversation and handed him the container filled of baked goods before noticing an young boy by the age of 9 with cornrows raise an eyebrow judging you while an 10 year old beside him with an afro eyed you - You waved to them before waving goodbye to grandpa freeman "I'll invite you for dinner sweet pea" grandpa freeman said smiling as you smiled nodding "My partner and I will gladly come along!" you soon left after that - You have tried to befriend the two young boys but failed... - NGL I see Grandpa freeman see you as an daughter and cares for you - Wouldn't threaten you with an belt at all but maybe would whoop the two boys asses aka Huey and Riley most of the time when your around he doesn't hesitate at all unless you are used as a human shield - First of all, they didn’t trust you but then you started offering to babysit them when they were unsupervised. The two boys were more reluctant to accept your pressence, although they were polite with you... well Huey was RIley on the other hand would swear at you - You always took good care of them, you watched them closely and made sure they ate proeprly and didn’t get hurt... - When grandpa freeman says anything sexual around the two you gave the male an disgusted look just like the two boys and go try to cover their ears the best you could - When needed too you Cover the two's eyes whenever something bad would effect them which confuses the two since they were used to this type of shit but Huey didn't try to peak while Riley was squirming saying he wanted to see what the hell was going on - Riley is a highly impressionable third grader. He embraces the stereotypical "gangsta" lifestyle, doing his best to promote the urban culture in the contrasting suburb of Woodcrest since he was HEAVILY Influenced by the mass media via rap music and television, he frequently uses poor grammar, and tends to defend his idols even when his imitations go against common sense and righteousness... BUT DAMN WHEN HE SAW YOU WHOOP SOMEONE IS ASS WITH YOU IN HEELS? HE WAS GAWKING! - Huey is a highly intelligent 10-year-old boy, who rarely smiles or laughs, and recognizes and detests the absurdities (both obvious and perceived) of the society in which he lives. His cynicism often touches upon subjects such as politics, religion, the media, businesses and corporations, African-American culture, and American society as a whole. Tending to be obstinate in both manner and speech which makes you freak out on how an 10 year old knows ALOT! - Huey has shown like ALOT OF DEPTH! of understanding that would seem to surpass his young age, such as knowing roughly what is going to happen in the future based on the actions and personalities of the people involved... Which makes you concerned asking him if he or riley had even gotten a proper childhood... - Riley when he is close to getting his ass whooped would run towards you screaming and hide behind your legs as you stare in utter confusion when he jumps into your arms or hides behind your legs as Grandpa freeman stop and stare at you "Put the boy down Sweet pea I gotta beat this boys ass!" You stared at Grandpa Freeman before staring at riley before running away with the child in your arms screaming as Huey just stared at the chaos unfolding - After awhile you would cpome visit and would try to offer to braid rileys hair which he doesn't allow at first...

- When he does get comfy though and needs his cornrows to be fixed or get a new design he would go to you sit down between your legs on the couch while picking up his controller which makes you laugh - You and Huey discuss lots of things together and compliment and praise the young boy fro his work which he is thankful for - You are seen like a motherly figure to them after 7 Months of meeting you due to your sweet personality - For Riley and Hueyy felt so nice to have someone caring for them other then grandpa freeman. After all they didn't grow up with a good relationship with their parents or didn't have any? you didn't know - You are shocked by the boys is skills... like THEY KNOW SELF DEFENSE! in an shocking way and have done things no child would have done but this was Woodcrest... - Huey and Riley would come up to you if they ever finish a test and show you their scores huey always getting 100 and Riley getting... lets not talk about riley is scores - They both enjoy how you pat their heads when they do something right - Whenever they try to cuss infront of you, they always get an glare from you "Boy if you even try that Imma get your grandad to whoop you" You stated with an smile that held an menacing aura - You panic sometimes when you come to visit and see the boys attack eachother with weapons and they both stop quickly when you shout their names and scold them - If you ahve siblings though and their is a party at your place due to your partner hosting it they would be amazed how you are a whole different person cussing out your siblings - The other woodcrest neighbourghs wood also be shocked to see you close to whooping your younger/older sibling(s) asses with your purse cause they ate the last piece of your favourite food - You definetly will have to step in between Riley and Huey sometimes to stop them from killing one another which always freaks you out - You were staying over and helping Grandpa freeman with his upcoming date but you brought some sweets and got some of them eating one before lifting one up and walking towards you and Huey who were sitting on teh couch talking about one of Hueys recent experiments "Yo ma! what the fuck is this-" Riley froze when he realized what he said as Huey froze aswell turning to Riley with an raised brow as you stared at Riley - Riley spoke "Yall N**** ain't heard shit!" Riley said quickly but was to late when you rushed over hugging riley "AWWWW! RILEYYYY!" Huey glared at Riley who was getting your attention as Riley scoffed hugging you back - Riley and Huey wouldn't call you Ma, or Mother in public only in private cause they didn't want to seem like 'Pussies' by rileys words but to Huey he just doesn't want you to know he see's you as a mother figure - For huey the first time he call you Ma/mother was when you praised him for succeding in one of his experiments he worked REALLY hard on - he was in the garage and his eyes widened when he saw he succeed on making the bomb he had spent so long on... So when you come by he perks up slightly which is unusual and grabbing your hand taking you to the garage and telling you about his... 'Experiment' that def isn't a bomb and how long it took "Thats amazing Huey! your such a Genuis! you are an intelligent young boy I'm very proud of you" you stated with an sweet smile patting his head while his afro cause you didn't know where to pat as he stares up at you and looks away smiling slightly which wasn't shown well "Thanks Ma" Riley was walking past to grab his basketball before having his jaw drop so fast when hearing those quiet words from Hueys lips - Huey denies he ever said it but would say it to you in private. - He enjoys that he doesn't have to always be the responsible one in the family even if you live next door - They call you mom/momma/mum/mama/ma/mother - Believe it or not Huey respects you more than anyone in this world, I mean- have you seen yourself when you protected them of a group of assholes

- It’s still strange for you to know why some people hated the two boys Riley he has definitely called you “mom/mama” ) sometimes... and YES, Huey is still mocking him for that, when he does, surprisingly Riley does not get violent, he just scowls in shame and shouts “Well, SHE IS our mom! right?” he just looks at you with the most confused and adorable expression ever made and you just can’t say no to him. - The two boys are very thankful for you like REALLY THANKFUL! even if they don't show it alot - Grandpa freeman is very greatful for having you around so he didn't have to always look after those assholes

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

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arimiadev · 3 months ago

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spooky indie visual novels you've never heard of for spooky season

since it's October I thought I'd put together a list of spooky indie visual novels (horror, Halloween, creepy, dark comedy, anything in the spirit of the season goes) that you've probably never heard of but can play right now on itchio!

model employee

Model Employee is a corporate horror visual novel. Just discharged from the hospital and massively in debt for their life-saving cybernetics, the player-character must adapt to the “extreme” work-life balance of a Tethys Team Member- but they have help. Penny, the artificial personality that controls all security, waste disposal, and employee surveillance in the facility, specializes in reinforcing an especially cutthroat variety of workplace culture- and she’s taken an interest in you. If you want to get ahead in your career, you gotta be willing to take some risks.

model employee is such a tightly structured visual novel for being made in just one month for a game jam, making full use of everything while surprising you at every corner. every part of this game was so well planned and thought out- dystopian corporate satire isn’t my cup of tea (we’re living it) but the way they present everything in this game makes it feel so much more intense.

beary the hatchet

It’s Halloween 199X, and you killed someone during your morning shift. Honestly it’s inconvenient. This job was imperfect, sure, but you got to wear a mask with no questions asked and the pay was livable. But now you’ll have to keep the body in the backrooms till your shift is done. Bummer. “You’re… the absolutely WICKED and AWESOME Bearwater Grizzly Killer, aren’t you?!” …and now enters the dreaded true crime fan.

beary the hatchet is such a uniquely lovely game to look at, even if the subject matter is grim. I love the color palette and tones in this, I love the 2.5D graphics, I love how expressive all of the designs are. it’s a game oozing with style.

WE KNOW THE DEVIL

Anyone can kill the devil; that’s why they always make teens the vampire slayers, the magical girls. But some kids can’t even get that right; and that’s why meangirl Neptune, tomboy Jupiter, and shy shy Venus have to endure one more week of summer camp and each other, singing boring songs about jesus, doing busywork for adults, and hoping god’s radio can’t hear them. Before they can leave the summer scouts, they’ve got to spend twelve hours in the loneliest cabin in the woods and wait for the devil to come and live through the night–or not. You know.

it’s a visceral experience, something that feels foreign and familiar at the same time. I love the direction for it, the sketchy monochrome sprites against the colored photos- parts when there aren’t any characters on screen feel that much more real, like you’re watching found footage because of how tense everything is.

disconnect

Late at night, a phone call from a friend keeps disconnecting from you… On and off, on and off, constantly… …What would you do if you realized your friend wasn’t who you thought they were? And how would you react when the truth was finally revealed? (“̷̢̑W̸̨̊o̸̫͊u̷̱͝ḽ̸͛d̴͉̐ ̵̚ͅy̵̜̽o̸̥͗u̷̮̎ ̷̜̏s̶̤̄t̸̥͐i̴̻̕l̸̰͝l̸͉̓ ̷͕́ȁ̸̩c̸̡̓t̵̜̊ ̵͓̈t̶̙̄h̶̦͂e̸̩͠ ̸̩̅s̶̘̏a̷̪͛m̵̮͒e̴͖͑ ̸̭́w̷̨̚á̴̱y̵̯̑?̶͎̌"̷͈̆) Find out what happened to our scaredy-cat protagonist, Indie－a famous horror storyteller on the H-T-M (Horror, Tales, and Mystery) forum. What would she do when she unintentionally uncovered a mystery hidden deep within her own home?

I love the style of disconnect and the unorthodox way of getting to the truth of the matter. I’m not normally one to play furry VNs, but the designs are adorable and I love the presentation of the game, it has a lot of animation in it. there’s also one moment not too far in on this screen that made me scream…

curse of the juniper tree

Curse of the Juniper tree is a tale of two siblings, a cursed tree and an isolated village. It is a short kinetic visual novel featuring 2d exploration. Walk around the snowy village and talk to its inhabitants! Story is loosely based off the fairytale called The Juniper Tree by the Brothers Grimm in Grimm’s Fairy Tales in 1812.

this is a lovely and short story about two siblings living in a frozen land together. it’s a very atmospheric story with so many beautiful blues and detailed character designs. the controls were a bit hard to figure out at times but it’s worth your time.

reaplaced

Grea Perrim is a reaper of souls, and it’s her duty to bring the deceased to the other side. But in the world of reapers, death isn’t any kind of equalizer. The value of a soul is directly tied to the peculiarity of its death. Grea’s supernatural senses bring her to a Halloween house party with three costumed guests. She soon finds the most valuable kind of soul: the victim of a locked-room murder. In order to reap the soul, Grea must unravel the identity of its killer and explain its death in full. Is this the work of a human? A witch? Or something else entirely…?

reaplaced is a fun little whodunnit set on Halloween about a grim reaper out on the hunt who finds herself in the middle of a murder mystery. it’s much more indepth than I was expecting and the soundtrack is wonderful—there’s a lot of small touches to it that make it great.

Silver Thread

An exorcist that doubts the existence of ghost might sound contradictory but to Alicia Wilkershire, this is the right way to get closer to the truth. Her latest job sounded like another run-of-the-mill case and she greeted her client with her usual pessimism but is it, really?

Silver Thread is a spooky and short RPGM game about a skeptical exorcist trying to help a guy with his problems. the style is lovely and if you also like this kind of style, the developer has several other RPGM games like this!

Elevator Hitch

Elevator Hitchis a short 2.5D surreal horror/escape room visual novel with point-and-click and puzzle elements following the story of two co-workers suddenly finding themselves stuck together in a "Perfectly Normal" 70s office elevator. They must explore each liminal-looking floor and find a way to get off the elevator to their actual destinations.

like a few others on this list, Elevator Hitch was made in just a month for the Spooktober Visual Novel Jam and was my favorite game from the year it came out (2022). it's more of an adventure style game than pure visual novel, so expect puzzles and a lot of bad ends! this developer also has a lot of other similar style adventure visual novels.

The Case of the Serialized Killer

When a popular illustrator is found dead, disgraced demonologist Harold Ludicael is hired to summon her ghost. Ghosts are the one thing he can't summon, but with sharp insight, perhaps he can solve the mystery, and resurrect the most important thing: His career.

this visual novel is an absolute feast on the eyes as all of the art is done by traditionally painted watercolor artworks! the characters are all unique and the world feels very lived in. if you like murder mysteries then check it out.

Stillwater

"𝕊𝕖𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕖…" A woman arrives with a mysterious letter in hand addressed to her grandfather. Etched in crimson is a foreboding message, a warning—a promise made from a time forgotten. Private Investigator Hugo Laurent and his assistants must solve this bizarre case before an old family's curse befalls them all.

Stillwater is a lovely looking game - I love everything about the art direction for it. it's not overly scary but very atmospheric with several endings to find.

Who is the Red Queen?

Alice falls down the rabbit hole into a Wonderland not quite right. Meeting an eclectic collection of people, animals, and some things in between, she sets out on an adventure in this odd new place to find the missing Red Queen. Or, more specifically, to find the pieces of the dismembered queen whose body has been strewn across the land.

a familiar but new take on Alice in Wonderland, now with a lot more yuri. like a lot of the VNs I've recommended, this was originally made in just 1 month. this one in particular has a lot of dead ends, mention of gore & dismemberment, and other content warnings.

okay now that you've made it this far I'm going to promote my gay horror / Halloween visual novels

Asphodelium

Hazel is an ex-adventurer who's settled down with some of his previous guildmates after the adventure of a lifetime—taking down a doomsday cult that tried to end the world, but at the cost of killing their former guild leader who turned against them. Despite their adventure still haunting him months later, he's tried to move on. —That is until a man with the same face as their guild leader approaches him. This is a story about cults and killing and killing cults. And being in love.

Asphodelium is a melancholic dark boys love visual novel that I made solo in about 3 months. it's entirely in NVL mode (I love you NVL) and around 3 hours long and my personal favorite game I've made so far.

Dahlia

a vampire has snuck into your room while you were sleeping. the only question is - are you next on her menu? Dahlia is a very short sapphic visual novel made in under 36 hours for the Velox Formido game jam, a jam for shortform visual novels. survive being trapped with a lovely little vampire, or don't.

also NVL mode because I love NVL mode. this is a short and sweet vampire visual novel I made solo in a weekend for a game jam that has several different endings.

Witch You Want

With a rather sparkly magical paper, you find a job listing for a local witch needing an assistant with making potions before the town festival that weekend. You sign up, unsure exactly what to expect...... A pompous and questionably excellent witch runs a local apothecary in town but finds that if she wants to make enough potions before the festival that weekend to sell (and keep her ongoing potion shop afloat) she'll need some assistance. After a dubious help wanted ad, she gains you as an assistant. Will the two of you see through to the festival? Will you be able to make a single potion? Will this girlfailure capture your heart?!

this is my latest visual novel that released just a few days ago! I directed & programmed this short cutesy game for a game jam at our studio. it's pretty fluffy romcom with a potion minigame in it. please help our girlfailure make potions, she needs all the help she can get.

#visual novel #visual novels #indie games #game recs #game recommendations #visual novel game #my recommendations #most of these are spooktober entries #I tried to only include finished or basically finished games #so no demos #and not every entry is straight up horror #some are more just about Halloween and some are partially comedic #there's a wide range here I think!

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lale-txt · 1 month ago

Text

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 (𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝟎𝟏 ; 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭: 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚

♫ Nilüfer Yanya - midnight sun

Love is raised by common thieves // Hiding diamonds up their sleeves // Always I did it for you // Never felt so sure // You're my best machine // You're my midnight sun // Always I did it for you

word count: 4.3k

⭅ back to m.list

“And this is the secret snack drawer of our department. Bossman refills it every Tuesday so you gotta be quick if you wanna snatch your favs before someone else does.” “Alright, thanks Bokuto-san, I’ll keep it in mind.”

When they said office tour this wasn’t exactly what you imagined, but you’re not complaining. You trail behind this giant puppy of a man who can barely contain his excitement over showing you around the building. While he gives off the impression that there’s not a single thought behind these unsettling eyes of his, you can tell that he is a sweetheart to his core and you have a good feeling about working together.

It’s been an hour since Kiyoko from HR–the most beautiful girl you’ve ever laid your eyes on–dropped you off in the hands of your future team and so far you’ve seen:

The half-heartedly fixed window on the 3rd floor a certain “Tsum-Tsum” broke during last month’s office party

The girls restroom where Yachi from Marketing could be heard crying (“She schedules her crying session between meetings, it’s normal for her so don’t worry!”)

The cafeteria and which vending machines there to avoid, as well as the ones Bokuto ended up being stuck with his arm in

The rooftop where they hold events during the warmer months (and where you accidentally locked yourself out when the door fell shut behind you–thankfully a guy built like a french door fridge who introduced himself as Meian came to your rescue after twenty minutes).

The coffee shop next door where everyone goes because the in-house coffee is ass apparently and HR cut budget for a new coffee machine

What you haven’t seen yet:

Your future cubicle and the floor your team works on

The IT department where you’re supposed to pick up your work laptop

The showrooms of the latest collection

The Bossman

Still, your nervousness from this morning is easing slowly. When you applied for this position, you wouldn’t have thought that they’d actually hire you considering what a mess your resume is on paper. Moved overseas with your family in middle school and continued living there till a month ago. Dropped out of college to pursue a career as seamstress (all self-taught no less because an apprenticeship meant too much commitment). Then chased that promised record label deal with your band which didn’t happen before you crashed and burned out big time.

Frankly speaking, you were tired.

It’s as if every decision in your life was either taken away from you or led you down a miserable path. Everything you touched just crumbled underneath your fingertips. Sometimes you catch yourself thinking that maybe you weren’t built for this kind of life. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a dreamer.

Something boring. Something stable.

You applied for this corporate job with the hope in your heart that you can find some rest. Putting an end to worrying about bills at the end of the month, and finally knowing which bed you’ll fall asleep in at night, seeing the same old city day in, day out. Maybe a place to call home but then again you didn’t allow yourself to wish for too much. Just a change from whatever trainwreck your life had been prior to this would be nice.

You loved sewing and making music with your entire being, but maybe you never should’ve built a living on it–if you could even call the past few years of your adulthood that. Living. It felt more like surviving. You’ve been missing that joy over these things you used to love the most for a long time now.

So when you got the call that you got the job last month, you didn’t have to think twice. You started packing your few belongings into boxes the same day and gave notice to quit your shabby flat. The money you once saved to go on a world tour with your band now came in handy to fund your move back to Japan. It all happened so fast. In a way it felt like an escape, like giving up; but in your heart you knew this was the right thing to do.

Maybe you had to take your eyes off the things you loved to really see them again.

“Hello…? Yes, she’s with me. What? No, I wasn’t showing her the view from the fire escape ladder. Should I? Why am I getting yelled at?”

You snap out of your thoughts when Bokuto answers a call that obviously makes him go through all emotions in the span of a minute. He gestures something to you and you have no idea what it means, but based on context clues you assume it’s “the bossman” on the other end of the line.

“Meeting room on cloud nine, got it. What? But ‘ninth floor' sounds so boring… yeah, yeah, I’ll bring her. No detours, got it. Not even… no? Okay.”

Bokuto hangs up the phone and you swear his hair looks a little deflated, just like his overall expression. He really was an open book. It was kind of refreshing.

“Did you get in trouble because of me?”, you ask and he shakes his head vehemently.

“No, no! I showed you all the important stuff and Omi-Omi–I mean, the bossman–will show you the boring rest. Like where your desk is and everything. He’s back from his out-of-office appointment and booked a meeting room for you two. I’ll take you there!”

Omi. The corners of your mouth twitch a little when you hear that name, a sweet memory unraveling in your chest. Bruised knees and ice cream dripping down your knuckles, small hands pushing you on the swings and braiding flower crowns made from daisies for you. Plucked out petals. He loves me, he loves me not. Friendship bracelets and baby teeth.

You aren’t any good with names, but you’re sure you would’ve remembered this one during the interview process.

“This Omi-Omi…” you wonder as you follow Bokuto’s lead, “is he a new hire as well? I’ve spoken with a ton of people for my interview but if I remember correctly the team leader was someone called Miya Osamu…?”

“Ohh, you spoke with Myaa-sam!” Bokuto’s eyes seem to light up. “No, he doesn’t work here anymore, just his carbon copy! Quit the job to follow his dreams, he said. He’s about to open his own restaurant just around the corner actually! We should go there for lunch once it’s open!”

A strange emotion tugs on your heartstrings. Following your dreams. Yeah, that ended disastrous for you but still you can’t help but feel a pang of envy over everyone who does it anyway. You try to shove it deep down, far away. It’s long in the past. You’re here now, a new chapter. New faces. New routines. All new. Same old you.

“Omi-Omi got promoted when Myaa-sam left, so that’s why you haven’t met him during your interviews,” Bokuto adds and holds out a door for you. “Don’t worry about him. He can be a bit grumpy at times but he has a sparkly heart or whatever the saying is. You’ll get along just fine!”

Bokuto leaves you alone with your thoughts in the small meeting room. You’re not sure what to do while you wait. The prospect of sitting still seems awful but you also don’t wanna be nosey and flip through the fabric samples someone left on the table or read through the flipchart in the corner, even though you’re tempted, so you end up pacing around the room and looking outside the big windows. Everything outside seems so small from up this high. It makes you feel irrelevant too and it’s a strangely comforting feeling. Being nothing but a name, a small gear in a bigger picture. Maybe if you become a blank canvas, you can find the colors in your world again.

You twirl around when the door clicks open, flattening down your skirt, suddenly now very aware that the moving box with your flatiron is still stuck on some container at sea. Doesn’t matter, maybe you can pull it off as edgy or casual chic with the right amount of charm and charisma.

Behind you, the door clicks open, making you twirl around.

And freeze.

“Sorry I’m late, I picked up your work laptop from the IT department on my way, so we can get started right aw–”

Leather sleeve holders on a spotless white shirt. A black face mask covering the lower half of his face. Dark curls, moving like the sea at night. Hands so large they’d swallow yours easily if you ever get to hold them again. Two birthmarks, right above the eye–that’s where a lover used to kiss you in a past life, you remember saying when you were both kids.

“Kiyoomi,” you hear yourself mutter. It sounds distant, like an echo from the past. It’s been over a decade since you tasted his name in your mouth and even after all this time your hearts still recognize each other.

“Ah,” he says and then, after a pause, “you.”

He looks dumbfounded and just stands there frozen, balancing a bundle of paperworks and a laptop in one hand and two styrofoam cups of coffee in the other. For a few seconds you just blink at each other, trying to process whatever cheap trick the universe decided to play here.

Sakusa Kiyoomi. The boy you claimed you’d marry one day when you were both just eight years old. You remember being so sure about it. How the thought never left you growing up; and how you broke down crying when your parents told you about their plans to move overseas for their work during your first year of middle school, the end of a dream.

Eventually you snap out of your paralysis.

“Ah, you. What kind of non-reaction is that?”, you ask and shake your head, laughing. You take the coffee from his hand and reach out to slowly peel the mask off his face. Despite his brows knitting together, he doesn’t protest it. It’s strange, seeing him. The boy you once promised your heart to in the sandbox and the grown man with the same face, just sharper. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you now.

“Well, excuse me, but the girl who I still have a bite mark from when we were kids just spawned out of the blue in front of me,” Kiyoomi huffs, rolling his eyes like he used to when he was annoyed by your antics. He cups one side of your face with his now free hand and lifts it slightly as if to get a better look at you, his thumb idly caressing your cheek. It feels awfully intimate and you find yourself leaning closer into his touch.

Omi. Your Omi.

It’s as if time stood still between you; as if not over a decade has passed since you last saw each other. Held each other. Murmured promises in each other's ears as you hugged goodbye in the pouring rain. Of course it was pouring that day, it was as if the heavens were weeping over the two of you being separated. Maybe that's the universe's apology for this past dick move, you think, the corners of your lips curling upwards.

Kiyoomi lets go of your cheek and flicks your forehead as if he read your mind. Another habit from back then.

“Still a daydreamer,” he remarks and for the first time since he walked into the room he smiles and it’s like the sun has risen again after years of winter.

When you sit down together, so close that your knees under the table are touching, you find it hard to focus. Kiyoomi explains the applications you’ll work with, your logins, company security policies, which meetings you’ll attend with him the upcoming weeks and the hierarchy of your team, but you don’t follow. At all. You’re too distracted by the flutter in your chest and wondering what the shaved part in the back of his neck would feel like if you ran your fingers over it, as well as what he’d been up to over the past decade, and why he never answered your letters, and…

Your phone vibrating on the table next to you snaps you out of your thoughts. You click your tongue in annoyance when you see it’s the moving company calling you.

“Sorry, I gotta take this. Won’t take long,” you apologize and pick up the phone, leaving the room for an ounce of privacy–it’s not like the thin walls muffle much when you yell into the speaker for five minutes only to hang up in defeat.

Kiyoomi looks up when you return, his eyes looking you up and down with the same intense gaze like he always did.

“Boyfriend trouble?” His voice is bland, seemingly disinterested, but no matter how much he tries to hide it you can still hear the underlying weight of the question. “Or girlfriend trouble. Didn’t mean to make assumptions.”

You slump down on your chair again and sigh in defeat, shaking your head.

“None of that. It’s the damn moving company,” you huff, slamming your phone back on the table. “They mixed up dates and now I’m here but all my stuff isn’t.” You rub the bridge of your nose in annoyance. “It’s been almost a month and my back will kill me if I have to spend one more night on an air mattress.”

Kiyoomi drums his fingers on the table, pondering. You can tell by the furrow of his brows and the intensity of his gaze. Once again you notice what a fine man he has become. His beauty would’ve been intimidating if you haven’t known him since you were little kids.

“Stay with me.”

You look up from your phone where you wrote down the new date they gave you for the arrival of your furniture and blink at him slowly. Not fully registering what he’s saying.

“Stay with me,” Kiyoomi repeats again, noticing your confusion. “Till your things arrive. I have a guest room. It’s a short commute to the job. I cook and I clean.” He shuts his laptop and gets up, running a hand through his dark curls.

“And…?”, you ask, as if waiting for the condition because surely it sounds too good to be true.

“And maybe I’m also worried that you’ll turn out to be nothing but a fever dream if I take my eyes off you again.”

In the evening, Kiyoomi and you stop by your almost empty apartment to pick up your suitcases with a change of clothes.

Sneaking away after work together without the rest of the team noticing was surprisingly easy–Meian had clocked out early to pick up his partner from school (Kiyoomi begged him to clarify that she was a teacher to avoid any future confusion), Bokuto and Atsumu were stuck in an elevator (“They’re not my responsibility after 5pm”) and Hinata went out for dinner with some business partners from Brazil.

When Kiyoomi saw how you were dressed for the chilly autumn weather, he wordlessly turned around and disappeared in the office building for five minutes again, showing up with a scarf that looked suspiciously like the one the mannequin in the showroom wore, from the collection that wasn’t supposed to see the light yet. Nobody has to know, especially not how tenderly he wraps it around you, making sure you stay warm. He always did.

Some kind of protective instinct within him kicks in when you unlock the door to your place. Kiyoomi, who huffed about the lack of security of your apartment complex for the duration of the whole elevator ride and then some more when you let him in, was now checking your windows and front door.

“You’re gonna tire yourself out from all that head shaking and tongue clicking, Omi,” you tell him while you stuff your scattered clothes across the floor back into your two big suitcases. Most of them were absolutely not fit for the season because after spending half of your life abroad. You kind of underestimated how cold Japan could get during autumn and winter. Maybe you could sew a few pieces after work and on the weekends.

“This place is a rathole,” Kiyoomi groans after turning the dripping faucet on and off and making a face of utter disapproval. “You should just move in with me permanently.”

“I’m not moving in with you, I just met you like eight hours ago,” you snarl back and roll your eyes, but maybe, in the back of your mind, you’re considering it.

Kiyoomi crouches down next to you, taking your chin between his fingers so you’d look at him.

“Eight hours my ass,” he huffs. “Don’t act like we spent our childhood glued together. You slept more in my bed than in yours. The memory foam of my mattress kept the shape of you long after you were gone.”

“Now that’s kinda romantic.”

You glance at him, a small smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. Your Omi. How you missed him. His thumb traces the outline of your jaw, and for a fleeting second you wonder if he’s gonna kiss you.

Maybe you really want him to kiss you.

You take a cab to Kiyoomi’s apartment (“What have you packed in these suitcases? Bricks? I’m not hauling these to the other end of the city. Get in.”) and he holds your hand for the entire duration of the ride under the feeble excuse that your hands are too cold. On the outside you watch the city lights pass by, an artificial milky way that unexpectedly lead you back into your first love’s arms.

Kiyoomi’s place is clean and spacious without being cold. The scent of it is making your brain tingle in a strange way, the subtle note of an almost forgotten childhood memory resurfacing again; the boy you once loved still living here but also someone else, someone he grew into without you.

You step out of your heels and shrug off your jacket and the scarf, dropping them carelessly to the ground. Behind you Kiyoomi bends down to hang it up neatly on the coat rack while you waltz inside as if you own this place. Another thing that hasn’t changed since you both were little.

Expensive, you think, recognizing some of the furniture brands and decorations. In one corner of the living room stands a vintage serving cart, crystal glasses and pricey bottles of various alcohols on top of it. His walls are adorned with artworks of all sizes, but otherwise they’re bare, the shelves missing trinkets and personal touches like framed photos of family and friends.

Still, the whole place feels like a home, lived in by someone as quiet and private as Kiyoomi.

“It’s late, I’m gonna order us some food,” Kiyoomi announces when he appears behind you, fingers tapping on his phone screen in one hand while the other unbuttons his shirt a little. He doesn’t look at you, just hands you his phone, gesturing vaguely. “Pick anything you like. My treat.”

Sitting down on the couch with your knees hugged to your chest, you scroll through the food options. Your attention span is fleeting, your eyes darting from the screen to Kiyoomi who carries your suitcases to the guest bedroom. Giving you a place to be, to stay, like it’s the most natural thing to do. Suddenly you’re very aware of the heaviness of your bones and how tired you feel.

You’ve been running for a long time. You’re home now.

Kiyoomi returns with a towel and a change of clothes, taking the phone from you again. He frowns when he scrolls through your food picks, letting out a small sigh.

“You still have the palate of a five year old.”

“You told me to pick anything I like? Just because you were fed caviar and gold dust as a baby… You pick something then.”

“I didn’t say I won’t order it, no? Go take a bath meanwhile. You had a long day.”

A long day. If it was only that.

But you don’t say anything, just wordlessly take the stuff from Kiyoomi’s hands and let him usher you to the bathroom. He pats the counter for you to sit on while he runs you a bath, pouring some bathing essence that causes a mild explosion of bubbles (same as you liked it back then). The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up when he checks the water temperature before turning back to you. He walks over till he’s standing between your legs, his hands coming down to rest on the sides of your thigh.

In the confined space of the bathroom, he seems even taller, wider. Nothing left from his baby cheeks and soft features. There was a time when you could see eye to eye, but now he’s towering over you with ease. Your hands find their way to his hips, subconsciously making him inch closer.

“You don’t have to do all of that for me, you know,” you mumble as you glance up at him.

“I want to. So please, let me,” he replies quietly. His face is so close, you could count his lashes if they weren’t endless. Endless as his adoration for you–still, after all this time. You briefly wonder if you could love each other like you did back then. Or even more. Your heart is drumming, a nostalgic melody you haven’t listened to in a while but one that’s engraved into your being.

It would be so easy, loving him. Like breathing.

Kiyoomi pulls you into a tight hug, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your arms around him cling tight, as if part of you is afraid that he is just a fleeting illusion, crumbling the moment you let go. It seems like you share the same fear. He shakes his head when your grip loosens slightly.

“Not yet,” he mumbles, his lips brushing over the skin of your neck when he does. “Don’t let go yet.”

Your fingers are tangled in his curls, keeping him close, your bodies pressed against each other. Hearts beating in unison. You silently thank the sun and the moon for bringing you back home into his arms. Only when his neck starts to hurt from the way he’s hunched over you, he reluctantly peels himself away from you, patting your side. “C’mon now. Your bath will get cold.”

He holds out a hand to help you down from the counter, slender fingers wrapping around yours.

“But I wanna keep talking to you,” you pout, earning a small eye roll from him, but the faint smile on his lips is betraying the gesture.

“Then leave the door a crack open. I’ll talk to you, doll,” he replies and flicks your forehead. Before he leaves the bathroom he turns around again, as if there was something else on the tip of his tongue, but he decides to swallow it. For now.

Immersed in the bubble bath, you tell Kiyoomi everything that happened over the span of the past decade. From your life overseas and how lonely it had been, to the missing letters and how you tried finding him on social media when you were older, how much you loved sewing and making music and how it burned you out doing these things for a living. You pour your heart out. Somehow it’s easier when you’re not looking at him, when you can’t see your own sad reflection in his dark eyes.

You can hear him moving around on the outside, not peeking, but always near enough to give you short answers, ask questions or to simply hear him laugh through the small crack you left open. It is strange. Life is strange. One night you’re selling your bass to have something to eat for the rest of the month, then a heartbeat later you’re sitting in your puppy love’s bathtub while he orders you fries and waffles.

That night, you fall in love again.

Or maybe you never fell out of it. But it’s there, tangible, glowing. You're tucked under a thick blanket, a photo album in your lap, and Kiyoomi is hand feeding you nuggets while you look over the slightly faded photos from when you were kids, some you have long forgotten about.

The one where you lost your first baby teeth, grinning from ear to ear to show off your tooth gap. You cried horribly that day and to comfort you, Kiyoomi bought you a small plushie from his pocket money. It still sits next to your pillow when you fall asleep every night.

The one where you wore your middle school uniforms for the first time, not knowing you would be torn apart a year later and never got to graduate together. It’s also when Kiyoomi had another growth spurt and you realized you really, really liked this boy.

The one where you played dress up in your mother’s wardrobe, her wedding dress way too big on you, the veil awry on top of your hair, but Kiyoomi looking at you like you’re magic. It was all play pretend, but maybe in another life he really became your husband if life hadn’t torn you apart.

“I really missed you,” you sigh quietly, your head resting against his shoulder as you shuffle through the photos. The nostalgia is leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth, the what if’s getting harder to swallow. It’s like the words are clawing in your throat, begging to be let out. Kiyoomi wraps his arm closer around you, pressing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“Missed you too. More than anything.”

It seems like everything leads you back to him. In his arms, his home, his heart. You have a feeling that maybe this could be the beginning of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

a/n: i rewrote this chapter SO many times to a point where i wanted to rip my hair and my eyes out so here we are. omi loving demon and me are shaking hands rn, WE MADE IT. thank you so much for reading and loving omi as much as i do. this chapter is for YOU 🌷 ps: meian's partner mentioned is y/n from dodger's oh captain, my captain

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#sakusa x reader #hq x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #hq x y/n #hq x you #hq fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyu x you #sakusa kiyoomi #hq reader insert #hq sakusa #-`♡´- attachment issues

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purplequay · 7 months ago

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may i request more collector doodles....

anon i gotta thank you. originally when i was going to answer this ask, i was going to say something along the lines of ohh i never liked corporeal collector's design, but i feel like such a hypocrite for saying it, because i can never come up with a design i like! yeah thats not true anymore! because here he is! the design that i'd prefer for collie's corporeal form! im so obsessed with this design and i would have never drawn it if it wasnt me seeing this ask and deciding "sure, why not? i'd love to do some collie sketches" lmao

#💉heretic's art #the owl house #toh collector #character design

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devilmademewriteit · 2 years ago

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Javier Peña & Joel Miller Headcanons (drabbles?)

another smutty edition. ohmygod this is filth.

warnings: rough sex/smut (oh boy. oral [both receiving], fingering, masturbation, cockwarming… & prolly more) so 18+ only content; stepdad!joel (againimsorry); dbf!joel; slapping, spanking, spitting; age gap; bratty!reader; smoking; petnames (sweetheart, angel, babygirl, baby) dubcon (coercion, intoxication, imbalanced power dynamic); like I said this is just pure filth—dead dove, do not eat.

Thank u guys for all the love on the last one !! I’ve got longer pieces coming soon, but in the meantime, enjoy this depravity based on yalls requests!! I’m going to hell!!

Join the taglist if you want moreeeeeee.

-em<3

—

Javi’s “boredom breaks” at work involved stealing you from behind your desk & coaxing you into giving him head from the passenger side of his Jeep Cherokee. Parked or driving, busy street or deserted parking lot, it was all the same to him—which meant onlookers, inevitably. Peña was indispensable at the embassy, so the voyeurs didn’t bother him, and he assured you that “nobody’s gonna recognize the receptionist by the back of her fuckin’ head.” In a dusty, empty side-street, Javier’s cock rhythmically prods the back of your throat. With one hand straddling the back of your neck, he grinds out a “fuck yeah, jus’ like that,” between deep pulls off his cigarette, ashing it out the open window with a quick flick of his fingernail.

“It’s fuckin’ hot, watching you take calls from all those corporate big-shots when I know you still got the taste of my cum on your tongue.”

Joel’s favourite position was doggy-style. Especially with both your hands pinned behind your back in his much larger, much stronger one; especially when your teasing had earned you some good-old-fashioned discipline. “Someone’s gotta fuck the brat outta you.” He’d pull out every time, even when you begged him not to, all so he could watch his hot seed spilling onto the red handprints branding your ass. But that always happened after he took in the swooping arch of your back, the way your skin yielded to his with every lazy slap he delivered to it—and, oh, your muffled sobs following his: “tell me—where’s that fuckin’ attitude get you?”

“S’right, sweetheart. Gets you on your knees, takin’ cock facedown like a lil’ slut.”

Sometimes, Javier just wanted to watch. “Show me, hermosa, how do you touch yourself when I’m away?” He’d relax in the armchair, an attentive audience member as he drank in the sight of you spread out on the bed, sliding a hand between your thighs. Those dark eyes never left yours, not even when he had to palm himself through his denim to relieve the aching desire building underneath. “Can tell you’ve been practicing for me.” & you’d finish with his name on your tongue, taking care to put every detail of your climax on display for him.

“You could be fuckin’ famous, y’know. I could film you just like that—my very own pornstar.”

One late-night in your father’s living room, you worked up the nerve to ask Joel to take your virginity so that it’d “be with someone who I like, who’ll take good care of me.” & he did such a good job, easing in oh-so-slowly, searching your eyes for any ounce of pain as he stretched you wide, wiiide open for him. “Fuck, maybe m’not the best person for this, sweetheart,” and it might’ve been true ‘cause his cock was almost too big to fit, squeezing in so, so tight between your fluttering walls. But eventually, it did, and then your dad’s best friend was rocking into you, muffling your soft cries of surprise, pain, pleasure, lust, abandon, and need in his palm.

“Sshh, sshh, s’alright, baby, s’alright. Jus’ focus on me, yeah? ‘Else your dad’s gonna find out I broke in his lil’ princess.”

Javi had never considered himself to be a jealous man. He was something of a sexual communist: cheating wasn’t cheating if it was just fucking, girlfriends were made to be shared, and only a self-denying idiot turned down any version of a threesome. But after that first time with you? That was all over. He’d have you straddling his lap on the brink of explosion, cunt dripping onto his bare thighs before finally lowering you onto every hard inch of himself—only to keep you still, his personal lil’ cockwarmer. “Tell me you’re mine, baby, tell me this pussy’s mine.” Saying the words wasn’t always enough for either of you to actually believe them, so Javi would fuck you—hard—until they were true, until he was certain that you belonged to him. Till he tore cries of worship from your lips and orgasms from your cunt.

“I know, querida, feels so good to surrender, don’t it?”

Stepdad!Joel picking you up from a party in his big ol’ truck with a couple of his drinking buddies tagging along. This time, he lets you sit in the front. “Ain’t she a stunner?” Blushing as the others mumble in agreement. Soon, Joel’s rough hand is crawling up your thigh. “We thought up a way you could thank us for the ride, angel.” Your cunt warms at the feel of his fingers slipping between your folds. It starts to pulse at the idea of being filled so full by 3 men at once, and it nearly aches at the thought of pleasing Joel. “You’re a big girl now, ain’t that right?” Parking the car, pulling you onto his lap, bunching your shirt up above your tits and exposing you to a car-full of leering eyes.

“N’ big girls take care of more’n just one cock at a time, sweetheart.”

It was obvious from the start that Peña, Murphy, and (especially) Carrillo didn’t abide by any kind of rule book in the field. It shocked you, nonetheless, the first time you watched Agent Peña put a bullet through a sicario‘s head. “We’re the good guys, sweetheart.” But it didn’t feel that way. For months, it didn’t feel that way, and you refused to be alone in a room with him. Not because he scared you, but because you were afraid of how his gratuitous violence had excited you. You managed to avoid him, until, one afternoon, he cornered you in the filing room—like a writhing tail caught in a mousetrap—his amused expression underpinned by a familiar kind of danger.

“You wanna pretend I’m the bad guy? S’fine, querida, I can live with that. But your pussy’s wet just thinkin’ about it, so at least have the decency to let me fuck you like one.”

When Joel ate you out, it was always as a reward. He liked doing it, of course, but he was an impatient man who worshipped the feel of a woman’s cunt wrapped around his cock (he’d cut blowjobs short for god’s sake, pulling you mid-gag off his length just to fuck you, instead). You memorized how pretty he looked with his head between your thighs, grey-speckled beard glistening with your very own slick. “F’you keep squirmin’ around like that, angel, m’gonna have to tie you up. Stay put.” Thighs hitched over his broad shoulders, voice hoarse from the never-ending moans his mouth and his fingers enticed from you over and over and over again. “Been such a good listener, baby,” and your fingers ran through his hair, streams of freshwater gushing between great, snow-flecked pines. But the best part came after: even his praise didn’t compare to the feel of his thumb against your chin, prying you open as he spat a wad of saliva onto your tongue.

“Open up for me, tha’s right. Y’see how good that pretty lil’ pussy tastes?”

Bonus fluff/angst:

He’d never meant to hurt you, of course. Javi wasn’t the greatest at the whole ~relationship~ thing, and even though you hadn’t defined whatever it was that, together, you shared, it still hurt like hell, finding out he was still screwing around. He hadn’t broken any promises, per se, but your crestfallen expression made him feel as though he’d committed a federal offence. “Baby, if I’da known…” and he’s kneeling down, (praying at the foot of your altar), gazing up at you with plea-filled, onyx black eyes before pressing his forehead to your abdomen, holding your hips between his hands as if you were sacred to him.

“I just… I need you like the fuckin’ air I breathe, hermosa. I hate myself for hurting you.”

You’d always had a bit of a school girl crush on dad’s best friend, Joel. Who could blame you? He was capable, funny, handsome—and oh, how you hated bringing friends over while he was in the house, too, ‘cause they giggled and flirted with him and it made you livid. This time, you actually had to step into the garage and light up a sneaky smoke just to find some fucking peace again. That’s where he found you, leaning defeatedly against the beer fridge; you frantically put the smoking tip out, cursing yourself for your carelessness. Joel raised his eyebrows at the cigarette before smiling in amusement. Then, he surprised you by pressing a big, warm, tender palm to your cheek.

“You’re always gonna be my favourite. You know that, right?”

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @maudlinflowers @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @buckysmainhxe @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #Joel miller #Javier pena #joel miller x female reader #Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #javier peña #narcos fanfiction

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colorsisgoodactually · 10 months ago

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I gotta say one of the biggest casualties of AI art is one of my favorite things in this fandom, SnapCube's Sonic Destruciton.

For those unaware Sonic Destruction is an AI generated Sonic script that is maybe one of the most batshit insane things to ever exist. I love it. It's my comfort video. I've seen both episodes more times that I can count and will constantly quote along with them. My backup choice for the name of this blog was going to be a Destruction reference.

With the movement to AI art actually putting the livelihood of real artists in jeopardy it adds a horrible, ugly cloud over something that was once very easy to enjoy. And the worst part is that destruction actively proves WHY AI writing isn't the future.

Destruction is NONSENSE. Complete and utter NONSENSE. The only reasons it KIND OF makes sense is because Penny Parker works extremely hard to tie the script into some cohesive narrative. But the joy of Destruction is that there is a very specific KIND of nonsense that can ONLY come from AI. Things that NO HUMAN IN THIER RIGHT MIND would write.

Things like there being two Shadows for no reason, the endless repetition of "large", "Sonic I think you should sit there" Shadow points to the bathtub, Charlamaigne Bee, Shadow the Hedgehog for the PS2 being a documentary but also Shadow isn't Shadow it's Silver that's Shadow and ARE YOU CONFUSED YET?, Sonic is a human for no reason, Tails and Knuckles have gone feral for no reason, and whether or not this takes place on earth or if "Earth" is a simulation inside a PS2 game.

The point is that AI can't be trusted to write a cohesive narrative. It's not smart enough. So the fun comes from watching it make the wildest creative choices possible and watching Penny struggle in vain to make it make SOME kind of sense and watching the cast react.

It's a beautiful commentary on why AI can't replace writers and also brilliantly funny and like all great Sci-Fi cautionary tales, major corporations have looked at it and gone, "actually lemme get in on that action."

Not sure what point I was trying to make here, just that it sucks that the world is a little less bright now that people are actually trying to push AI beyond what it's capable of to the detriment of other humans.

The threat was never an AI turning evil, it was AI empowering already evil humans.

#AI #AI Art #Sonic #Sonic Destruction #Snapcube #Snapcube Fandubs

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lovelyhan · 2 years ago

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— mirage ⟢

he loves with a passion that bleeds into his actions, never his words. you can see it in how he doesn’t make a sound. how he’s seemingly on the cusp, teetering dangerously across the knife’s edge. you're nothing but a stranger to him and yet he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x gn!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 3.5k words

★ TAGS; strangers to lovers, lawyer!wonwoo, one night stands, smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI!)

★ NOTES; i've been studying non stop for this exam i gotta take on wednesday and instead of getting some sleep, i reworked another old fic into a svt one HEHE this was a tears of themis fic i wrote almost 3 years ago and couldn't help but imagine wonwoo in artem's place 🧍‍♀️

★ SMUT TAGS; no specifications abt gendered anatomy, soft sex, really vanilla, aftercare

★ TAGLIST; i'll update this when i get on my computer lol

You spot him early into the evening—lights dim and music blaring, but the sight of him is no less blinding, no less enchanting to someone like you.

He looks like a white-collar fellow, shirt buttoned all the way up as he hangs a stuffy-looking coat across one arm. Vigilant eyes, neatly gelled hair, domineering presence—everything about the man screams ‘professional’ and ‘sophisticated’.

But what is an Adonis like him doing in a place like this?

You continue observing from a distance, nursing a drink you sweet-talked a college boy into buying for you. God knows where that guy went off, so you let yourself ogle the gorgeous newcomer a few minutes longer.

He’s no regular—this you’re completely sure of. Even if you didn’t spend as much time as you did in this bar, you can tell from the tension in his shoulders that he isn’t well-acquainted with Seoul's nightlife.

The man takes the laminated menu that the bartender slides over the counter, perusing its contents like he’s ordering at a family restaurant. When he’s made up his mind, you could almost hear how polite he probably sounds while ordering the mildest drink on the list. Sparkling water, maybe.

You don’t waste any time.

Mister tall, dark and handsome becomes considerably wary the moment you slide into the stool next to his—complaining about your ghastly work life out loud. The bartender eases into his role as your wingman seamlessly, much to your amusement. He tells you how his new patron needed a break from the monotone of a nine-to-five biorhythm, too.

“No, it’s not that,” mystery man laughs softly, and God, if sex had a voice, he is most certainly the one behind it. “A friend recommended that I drop by when I have the time.”

“You’re not the type to get plastered alone, though, are you?” A tentative smile worms its way onto your face. “This your first time?”

You half-expect him to deny it, like every stingy salaryman you’ve tried to seduce in the past. But Adonis here seems more honest with himself than most.

“Kind of. And I do have my reasons,” he sighs, dark eyes piercing through yours as he holds out his hand. “I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo. Beautiful name befitting of a beautiful man, but thank the gods you aren’t cheesy enough to say that out loud.

You introduce yourself out of courtesy, yet you find yourself quite fond of how the syllables of your name roll across his tongue when he repeats it. There’s nothing even remotely erotic in the way he speaks, but something about this man just pulls you in. Like the polar ends of two magnets, you’re unable to resist the attraction.

The small talk is sparse. You learn he’s an attorney in one of the city’s big-shot law firms, and you tell him about your childhood dream of opening a flower shop in return. He already lives the same cycle of corporate slavery as you do so you doubt he’ll be interested in your trivial work stories.

But…he asks anyway. About your job, your boss, even the work environment. Wonwoo seems like someone who likes to delve into the details—even if you’re no one but a complete stranger he just happened to meet tonight. He’s so catastrophically different from the idiots you settled with for a good time, and you’re afraid he might be setting the bar a little too high. No man looking for someone to warm his bed for the night can be this sincere.

Although, there is one thing that Wonwoo and the unwitting men in this place have in common.

You know the look in his eyes a bit too well. Sadness. Dejection. Resignation?

Who did he lose? A girlfriend? A boyfriend? You have no means of making sure without asking him directly, but you’ve encountered enough heartbroken souls to pick them out of a crowd with ease.

A man as prolific as he is won’t purposely visit a shoddy establishment like this. That’s if he isn’t rearing to forget whatever—or whoever—is weighing on that pretty little head of his.

Wonwoo patiently sips on a glass of bourbon (not sparkling water, thank God) as he listens to you drone about the flowers growing in your balcony. From the looks of it, he doesn’t seem like an ordinary ‘yes man’ either. He even asks for tips on growing aloe vera because he’s heard the natural gel is good for the skin. A handsome hunk that’s polite and gives a damn about skin care? You could marry him on the spot at this point.

“Do you have any favorite flowers?” you wonder.

He considers your words for a moment and you watch the way he traces the rim of his glass with his finger. When Wonwoo meets your gaze, you see it again. That hint of sadness carefully hidden beneath a kind smile.

“Roses,” he murmurs. “As cliché as the preference might sound.”

You shake your head. “Not at all. Roses are big in the market for a reason, but…”

“But?”

“You’re going to think I’m petty if I say it...”

Wonwoo laughs, bringing the glass to his lips as he takes another sip. God, why does he look so unintentionally sexy in everything he does? It’s so unfair…

“I won’t question the expertise of a veteran gardener,” he reassures, and your heart warms at his blatant sincerity. “I take it that you’re not very fond of roses?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. They’re kind of tricky to take care of. Once, I tried to grow a rosebush but I kept pricking myself on the thorns. Roses are pretty but they hurt.”

“Pretty but they hurt,” Wonwoo repeats the words under his breath. “That’s one way of putting it.”

And then comes the silence.

For a moment, you’re seized by a twinge of panic. The atmosphere suddenly became stale the moment Wonwoo uttered those last words, and you aren’t sure how you should respond. Bartender-wingman is serving someone else on the other side of the counter, so you can’t exactly rely on him for moral support. Oh, God. What if Wonwoo thinks you’re just some pick-me person that makes growing plants a personality trait?

“It’s getting pretty late.”

You startle the moment he speaks again. Wonwoo downs whatever’s left of his drink before flashing you another heart-wrenchingly genuine smile.

“Yeah. The night just passes by when you’re enjoying a conversation,” you laugh. “Do you really have to leave so soon, attorney?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No, not really. It’s my day-off tomorrow. How about you? Didn’t you mention you’re from downtown Seoul? That’s a bit far from here.”

You wave away his inquiry. “Nah. I can just take a train back. I’m used to the commute.”

“But you’re under the influence.”

“But I’m not drunk.”

“My apartment is just a few blocks away,” he insists, clearing his throat. “I think it’s safer if you stay the night first. It was raining quite heavily when I got here.”

You stare at him with your lips slightly parted—the gears turning in your head when you finally realize what he was trying to do.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you say, grinning from ear-to-ear, “are you saying you want me to go home with you?”

His face flushes so badly, even his ears turn red. “Is it working? I mean— I didn’t think I’d really meet anyone worthwhile when I decided to go here, so—?!”

“Good enough for me,” you sigh, getting up from your stool as you link your arm in Wonwoo’s—tugging him along. He sputters a little before fishing out his wallet, and you don’t comment on how he drops a fat wad of cash onto the bar without counting it.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, unfolding his coat to drape it across your shoulders. “I don’t want to be imposing.”

You scoff when he leads you to the parking lot. True enough, the rain still hasn’t pittered out when you got out of the bar. Maybe taking advantage of his offer isn’t so bad after all.

Grabbing Wonwoo by the front of his shirt, you make him lean down to your level with a smile. He makes a disgruntled noise out of surprise, but doesn’t struggle. You take it as a positive sign. The coat on your shoulders smells like fresh detergent and expensive cologne. You’d be a fool to walk away now.

“Yes, attorney, I’m sure,” you tell him sweetly. “Now why don’t you show me where you plan on growing those aloe vera, hm?”

Spoiler alert: he does not get to show you at all.

Despite how demure he looks, Wonwoo is surprisingly responsive when you jump him the moment the door to his apartment shuts. His lips are sinfully soft, molding his flesh against yours as he pushes his coat off your shoulders, onto the floor.

Though you’re very much liking the feel of his large hands slotting themselves on your hips, there's still a hint of hesitation in his touch. Like he’s unsure whether he wants to carry on with this or not. You pull away with a pout, fingers teasing the buttons on his iron-pressed shirt.

“We can just…hang out if you don’t want to,” you offer.

Wonwoo laughs breathlessly, taking one of your hands in his. You shoot him a weird look before heat starts to creep up your face as he plants a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“What makes you think I don’t?”

His hands travel south again, fitting the swell of your ass in those large palms. You sigh, slotting your lips together again as you jump—wrapping your thighs around his waist before you feel Wonwoo pressing you up against the wall.

Even the way he kisses is enough to drive you over the edge. He doesn’t have the displaced ferocity that most of your old flings thought made make out sessions hotter. You’re not particularly fond of overeager men, and Wonwoo’s pacing is tempered just the way you like it.

He licks into your mouth slowly, sensually, as if he wants you to embed the feel of him tonguing his way in your frazzled brain. You can’t help the moan that reverberates in your throat when he detaches himself from your mouth—taking the time to pepper your neck with little bruises.

But while he’s busy making his mark, your eyes end up focusing on the picture frames Wonwoo hung on the walls of his doorway.

You thread your fingers in his dark hair to distract him as you study each picture. One depicted what you assumed is Wonwoo with his colleagues at the law firm, smiling professionally for the camera. Wonwoo himself looked like a million dollars—tailored suit, unwrinkled shirt, debonair visage. You wouldn’t have mistaken him for anyone else.

But you also notice how his right hand is entwined with someone else’s. A man in a sleek gray blazer, his blond hair falling across cat-like eyes.

He’s present in the other frames, too. The first is a shot of him and Wonwoo sitting on a park bench, the other man sleeping soundly with his head on his shoulder. Wonwoo gazes at him with so much endearment in his eyes, it could only be called love.

There’s another photo with two more men in it. The blond grins brightly with one arm draped around Wonwoo's wide shoulders, while the other attempts to headlock another man whose eyes disappear when he smiles. In the background is someone much shorter than the three—equal parts annoyed and amused by their antics.

“Hey.”

You startle enough to lose your grip around Wonwoo’s legs, and you end up barely balancing yourself on the carpeted floor. Wonwoo laughs, and you shoot him a disgruntled look.

“You’re distracted,” he comments.

Well. Now that the cat’s out of the bag…

“Is he…your boyfriend?” you ask nervously, pointing at the blond in the picture frames. “I’m not committing adultery, am I?”

Wonwoo manages a sad smile, undoing the top buttons of his dress shirt before casting a sidelong glance at the frames mounted on his wall.

“He was about three years ago,” he admits. “But he’s getting married soon. You don’t have to worry about being a third party.”

The house is silent as you observe Wonwoo with keen eyes. It’s been three years, yet the grief in his gaze is still so raw. You’ve been with enough people to know if they’re only doing this with you for a good time, or to forget about someone else.

And you’re more than willing to help him with the latter.

You hook your arms around Wonwoo’s neck before bringing him down for another kiss—one with more fervor, more intensity than you would otherwise offer. He doesn’t reciprocate for a moment, seemingly astonished with your sudden vigor. But in time, he melts against your lips until one after the other, both your clothes start to litter the hall.

His mattress is soft when Wonwoo gently lays you atop the sheets, worshipping every inch of skin you’ve willingly exposed. But after he rises back to meet you in a fleeting kiss, he presses two fingers on your bottom lip. You’re embarrassingly compliant, parting your lips at the same time, inching your thighs apart somewhat subconsciously.

You get his long, dextrous digits nice and wet—tongue swirling around his skin as you cover them in a sheen of saliva. Wonwoo doesn’t say a word, but there’s an uncharacteristic glint in his eyes that you never would’ve associated with him earlier in the evening. A smolder in his usually composed gaze that makes you want to see just how far you can push him.

Wonwoo embraces you with one arm when he slides those spit-slicked fingers along your entrance, preparing you with a delicious stretch that has you keening his name into the cold air of the bedroom. He remains silent still, but you can feel those eyes on you regardless. The heat of his gaze penetrates into your being as his fingers make good work between your legs. When he kisses you again, your lungs feel like they’d been set aflame.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper, lips trembling as he rests his forehead against yours. “Please…”

He chuckles again, soft and reassuring as he lifts your thighs with strong hands, bracketing them across his hips. The cut of his abs from where you can see them look so well-defined, you wonder if he works out regularly. But once he maneuvers around to rid himself of his boxers, your thoughts drift to another impressive segment of his too-perfect-to-be-real body.

The familiar sound of a foil package being torn open snaps you out of your reverie. Wonwoo sighs as he rolls the rubber around his length—face red with lust or embarrassment, you aren’t quite sure. But when he glides the tip of his cock along your swollen entrance, you nearly sob.

“Want you…so bad,” you whimper, grinding down against him. “Wonwoo, please, please—!”

His initial preparation is all for naught, it seems. Because when the beautiful man above you finally buries himself to the hilt, you’re momentarily blinded by the pain of his entrance. You gasp out loud—tears welling in the corners of your eyes. But Wonwoo swallows the noise with an open-mouthed kiss, framing an apology on your lips as he wipes away the tears.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, brushing your hair away from your face. “I got a little excited.”

He stays still inside you, watching you get used to the stretch. The patience is a little endearing, given that you’re accustomed to just getting fucked out of your wits. Wonwoo even takes the time to trace comforting shapes along the skin of your thighs in an attempt to calm you down.

“You can move now,” you tell him shyly, turning your head to avoid his gaze.

Wonwoo nods once, pulling his hips back slowly before easing inside you once more. You sigh, burying your face in your hands as he builds you from the ground up, stoking the flame he started inside you the moment you laid your eyes on him.

“I want to see you.”

You jolt when he pins your hips in place with one hand while seizing your wrist with the other. There’s a crease on his brow, like he’s disappointed with you hiding your face from him. But the look immediately morphs into something more captivating.

Then he makes a particularly rough thrust that coaxes a broken moan from your lips.

His sudden, unrelenting pace continues from then on out. Wonwoo grips your thighs hard, but not enough to leave bruises. His discretion makes your heart flutter, but you can’t quite bask in the sentiment given that his cock is hitting all the spots that make stars dance in the seams of your vision. You clench your walls around his length, desperate to get a reaction out of him, and it works. Wonwoo bites his lip like he doesn’t want to make any forthcoming noises, but you bring him back down again for a kiss before anything else.

“You don’t have to hold back so much,” you murmur. “I can take it.”

Those dark eyes widen with surprise, and you can almost feel his self-control snap.

But contrary to your expectations, Wonwoo doesn’t start fucking you into the mattress like a wild animal. Instead, he hoists your hips even higher, holding your body at an odd angle. You’re about to ask what he’s trying to do, but when he plunges his cock back into your weeping hole, the words evaporate on your tongue.

Deep. He’s so impossibly deep that you fear it’ll take you days to sweat him out. A trail of saliva dribbles on your chin as Wonwoo slowly guides you to the apex of an orgasm. Your toes clench, your fingers tangle themselves in his hair. His name sounds like an incantation on your lips, and you wonder if the gods would let you have this man forever.

But…

He loves with a passion that bleeds into his actions, never his words. You can see it in how he doesn’t make a sound. How he’s seemingly on the cusp, teetering dangerously across the knife’s edge. You’re nothing but a stranger to him and yet he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

That man is lucky, you think—to be loved by someone as devastatingly devoted as Jeon Wonwoo.

Wonwoo comes down from his post-coital high a bit later than you do. But regardless, he takes it upon himself to carry you over to the bathroom despite your protests that you can do it yourself.

Even the way he washes the evidence of your sultry affair is equal parts firm and tender. He cleans you up patiently, doing the same for himself before handing you a fluffy white towel from the rack. You blush, noting how the fabric smells exactly like him as you dry yourself.

The two of you climb back into bed thereafter—not bothering with clothes, and instead choosing to bask in the heat of your bodies. It feels nice, pressing yourself against his toned chest, and Wonwoo doesn’t seem to have any complaints to raise either.

You don’t expect any pillow talk, nor does it come. After all, this is just one night. Though you’re curious about that old flame of his, you don’t really want to ruin the nighttime mirage you’ve weaved for yourself.

The rain continues to pour outside his windowpane, but the feel of your bodies slotted together can keep you warm for the night. It’s just you and Wonwoo, legs tangled underneath his expensive sheets.

Nothing more, nothing less.

When morning comes, you’re alone on the queen-sized mattress.

Last night’s rainshower has long passed, and you’re forced to squint at the sunlight filtering through a crack in the blinds. You blink groggily, fumbling around Wonwoo’s room for your clothes. You don’t know where he is, but you’re sure as hell going to see yourself out before he gives you a polite rendition of ‘please get out of my house’.

As softly as you can, you shut the door once you’ve dressed yourself—glancing around in the living room to check if the coast is clear. You remember leaving your bag somewhere on the couches last night, and it should be—

“Hmm? You’re leaving?"

You jolt like a cat thrown into a bathtub at the sound of Wonwoo’s deep voice. When you turn around to meet his gaze, you see him at the entrance to the kitchen. Like you, he’s fully dressed now, albeit in more casual clothes compared to last night’s corporate uniform. But what baffles you the most is the cat-printed apron he tied around his waist. The scent of frying pancake batter fills your senses, and your mouth immediately waters.

“Uhh, I figured you’d want to kick me out first thing in the morning,” you laugh nervously, scratching the back of your neck. “Didn’t want to overstay my welcome and all.”

Wonwoo shoots you a confused look before laughing. “Kick you out? I’m not that terrible a person, you know. Come on, I’ve made breakfast.”

He marches back into the kitchen like you have no say in the matter. Like he actually expects you to follow and join him there. Your jaw drops into a semi-offended scowl…

But you stride after him anyways.

⟢ end notes: if you spot any mistakes, do forgive me. it's 3 am and my brain is mush LOL. and if it wasn't obvi enough, the ex is junhui and the dudes in the photo are the 96z 🫡

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #lovelyhan #I CNAT BELIEVE I FORGOT THE TAGS SNDJSA #full length fic 📚

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luvtonique · 2 months ago

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Earlier today, a girl shot me a DM thanking me for not listening to people saying Melodi's body shape is unrealistic or fetishy and choosing to double down on her being a top-heavy P-shaped anorexic lanky long-armed twig lady.

She said, I quote, "I look like that IRL, and have the back problems and eating disorders to prove it. I have gigantomastia and have to get breast reduction surgeries to keep them in check [she described a lot of medical problems that come with the tissue growing too much here, too, but I cut it out cause it's pretty visceral]. I saw your post saying you're not intentionally putting representation in your game [like a year old post at this point] and this isn't about representation, it's just something that made me feel good about myself knowing someone finds my weird body shape attractive."

I told her that she is loved, and thanked her, and said that I hope that she can live a fulfilling and good life despite her disease.

She said "Same to you about your arthritis!" and that was that.

Little moments like that are why I make art and why I don't just do "what sells." I was willing to give up a huge portion of my fanbase by not flocking to Twitter in 2018 and staying here on this weird site full of people who regularly annoy me because it's my fuckin home. I was willing to leave the brony fandom after massive success in it. I am willing to receive hate-reviews from people saying my characters are "too sexualized" or that they "don't have enough identity-representation."

When people come along to tell me that something I'm doing made them happy or feel appreciated and loved, or that I helped make the hard times worth it for them, that's what really matters to me. Not filling quotas, not making characters with relatable social issues, not shoving politics or ideologies into my game to "send a message," but just those moments where the occasional person comes along and thanks me for never caving to social norms and continuing to just do the weird shit I love doing.

I love you, weird body shape girls.

Just because God hit "Random" on your body shape doesn't mean you're ugly, weird, gross or unwanted.

You're bootiful.

Also I just gotta be a snide bitch at the last line because this is Jay we're talking about. "But Jay! You'd get SO MANY MORE people coming to you and thanking you if you PUT SOME REPRESENTATION-QUOTA CHARACTERS IN YOUR GAME TO BAIT THEM OUT, LITERALLY SLAPPING THEM IN JUST TO GET BROWNIE POINTS AND INTERNET HUGS AND ACTING LIKE THAT MAKES YOU A GOOD PERSON."

That shit isn't genuine and your sense of feeling represented by disingenuous ideology-bait is as fake and fleeting as seeing a corporation put up a pride flag on their profile in February. They are using you to sell their product and you're praising them for it. I will never put a character into any work I create with the intention of representing a group of people or an ideological belief, because my characters are fictional storytelling devices, not strawmen who serve as a walking wikipedia article for a culture that the media has deemed an oppressed minority group to talk down to the audience instead of talking to the other characters.

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agaypanic · 2 years ago

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Benny weir x reader. Can you do one where Benny gets an online gf but have never met irl but she knows everything about the gang and him included the supernatural parts. Anyways Benny is like ALWAYS bragging about her but the gang fully just don't believe she's real. So reader flies out and decides to move to where Benny lives to surprise him. She tries really hard to wait to surprise him when he gets home from school but she just caught a glimpse of him while he was messing around outside the school and just couldn't resist running up and kissing him! Benny is? Shocked. The gang is? Shocked. Reader is? Love sick. Once Benny realized who it was he started to get so excited and not believing she was actually here all while Ethan is just like, who tf is this hot girl that's trying to get in Benny's pants rn?. And Benny has to literally make reader say she's his gf to make them believe him finally-🐇

Summer Love (Benny Weir X Reader)

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Summary: Benny’s friends don’t believe him when he tells them he has a girlfriend.

A/N: I’m having the reader move because of her parents’ work instead of just for Benny bc idk it feels a lil weird for a teenager to move for their s/o and not even telling their s/o that they’re moving

***

School had just ended for the summer, and you were racing home. Your boyfriend had made a habit of facetiming you when you were out of school, but you were hiding something from him that you really wanted to keep a secret.

After greeting your parents, you went to your room. It was filled with boxes, bubble wrap, and suitcases. Your boyfriend couldn’t see this. It would ruin the surprise.

Suddenly, your phone started ringing. You pushed everything off your bed and ensured there was nothing out of the norm around you. Deciding that everything would look fine, you answered the phone. “Hey, Y/n!” His regular grin widened when you popped up on his screen.

“Hey, Benny!” You and Benny met last summer when he was taking a road trip and went through your town. You were waitressing at the diner he and his grandma stopped at. Usually, you’d roll your eyes whenever some rando tried flirting with you, especially when you were working. But there was just something different about Benny.

It might have been the fact that he was a warlock, but he insisted that it was his amazing charisma.

“So, how was your last day of school?” He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary with your surroundings, or if he did, he didn’t say anything.

The two of you talked for about an hour before you got a text from your mom. It said something about her needing your help loading boxes into the moving van that your family had rented. You sighed.

“I gotta go; my mom needs help with something.”

“Okay, Baby. I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“Of course, Bens.” After saying your goodbyes, you hung up and ran downstairs to help your mom.

“How was your talk with Benny?” Your mom asked as you carried a heavy box out of the house.

“He didn’t suspect a thing.” You didn’t like keeping secrets from someone you cared about, especially one this big. But you knew it would be totally worth it.

“What are you gonna do when we’re on the road?”

“I told him that people were fixing the power lines on our block starting tomorrow, so we can only text or call until the power and wifi are back on. But no facetime.”

“Smart. How are you gonna surprise him?”

You hauled the box into the van, dusting your hands off.

“Still figuring that out.”

***

After lengthy drives and your parents constantly switching between driving the car or the moving van, you had finally made it to Whitechapel, Ontario. Your dad was offered a promotion in one of the corporate offices of his company, which just so happened to be in the same town that your long-distance boyfriend lived in. To say you were ecstatic to hear the news was an understatement. You remember grabbing your phone as fast as you could, about to call Benny, when you paused. Something this big shouldn’t be told over the phone.

So you decided to just tell him when you saw him. Now, you were just debating on how to do it.

After unpacking a good amount of your stuff into the new house, you told your parents that you were going to explore Whitechapel. It would give you both time to think about how you’d surprise Benny and time to get used to your new surroundings.

Whitechapel was very beautiful when you didn’t think about the freaky supernatural stuff that your boyfriend and his friends encountered almost daily. Even if you didn’t have Benny, you think that you’d still be delighted about this move.

After walking through the park and getting lunch at some little restaurant, you decided to go by the school you would be attending after the summer. It was a decent walking distance from your new house, thank goodness. As you approached the courtyard in front of the main entrance, you heard lots of laughing and talking. There was a group of kids about your age messing around. As you caught the face of the tallest boy, you started to panic.

You must have forgotten that school was going for another week in Whitechapel. Because instead of hanging out at the park or someone’s house, it looked like Benny and his friends were just now leaving school.

If it was just Benny, you’d be all over him by now. But he was with his friends. And his friends were convinced that you didn’t exist. Sure, this could have easily been disproven by a phone or facetime call. But something always prevented you and Benny’s friends from interacting for some reason. One or the other being busy or faulty internet were the main things. But Benny had also shown them pictures of you, and they didn’t believe him.

You had to do something. You were just standing there like a weirdo while your boyfriend and his friends were messing around across the street. You needed to make a decision, either run to Benny or run away from him and figure out how to tell him later.

“Benny!” You yelled as you crossed the empty street. A look of recognition crossed his face before becoming confused. He heard your voice, but there was no way you could be in Whitechapel. “Benny!” He turned to the sound of your voice.

“Y/n?!” He shouted back with an incredulous tone. He started to run towards you, and the two of you met on the sidewalk. He kissed you the second you were in his arms. Months of being apart amplified the passion; you two didn’t even care that his friends were gawking at you.

“Why is Benny making out with her?” Ethan asked. “Who even is she?”

“Maybe he paid her a million dollars,” Erica replied, looking at the scene in front of her with slight disgust.

“Wait, you can do that?” Rory asked.

“What are you doing here?” Benny asked you, refusing to let go of you. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be here?”

“Surprise.” You smiled. Seeing him on your phone was nothing compared to seeing him standing before you. He looked so pretty, especially when he was smiling at you with a smile that he only gave you. A lovesick smile, as if you were the person for Benny. “You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to surprise you.”

“Mission accomplished; this is crazy.” He kissed you again. “How long are you gonna be here?”

“Oh, you’ll be seeing a lot of me, Bens. Let’s just say you should change my address on your phone.”

“No way.” He muttered. “Are you serious?”

“Surprise again.” He kissed you to the point where you almost lost your breath, but you didn’t care in the slightest.

“This is probably the best day ever, holy crap.”

“Uh, Benny?” One of his friends called out, making the two of you remember that they were even there. “Wanna tell us what’s going on?” Benny turned around, you still in his hold. He brought you to his friends.

“Guys, this is Y/n. My girlfriend of almost a year that I keep telling you about.” His friends kept looking from you to him. “Y/n, this is-”

“Oh, don’t tell me. I got this.” You pointed to each person before naming them. “Erica, Sarah, and Rory, the vampires. Ethan, seer. And Benny, greatest warlock I know.” Your boyfriend blushed at the compliment and even more when you kissed his cheek.

“Right as always,” Benny said.

“Benny, you told her about us?” Sarah asked, somewhat panicked.

“Of course I did. That’s what you do with someone you’re dating; you tell them stuff.”

“Benny, I know that you’ve been pretty insistent on the fact that you have a girlfriend.” Ethan sighed. “But going as far as to hire someone and tell them very personal stuff about us? That’s crazy.”

“E, I didn’t hire her. She’s my girlfriend.” Benny groaned, frustrated that this debate was still going, even though his girlfriend was standing right in front of his friends. “Y/n, tell them.”

“I’m genuinely Benny’s girlfriend.” You said. “I wasn’t hired to do this; I’ve been dating him for almost a year. We met last year when he and his grandma were on a road trip.”

“I still kinda don’t believe this,” Sarah muttered. You shrugged.

“Well, it’s your guys’ loss if you don’t believe us, I guess.”

It took showing photos, messages, and even questioning Benny’s grandma. But at the end of the day, Benny’s friends finally believed the two of you. They apologized to you for not believing you were real and to Benny for not believing he really had a girlfriend all this time.

“So, besides thinking you didn’t exist, what did you think of them?” Benny asked you as he walked you home.

“They were pretty cool. I’m kinda scared of Erica, though. She has a very intense energy to her.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you. It just takes time.”

“How long did it take for her to warm up to you?” He sighed.

“Still working on it.”

#benny weir #benny weir x reader #my babysitters a vampire x reader #my babysitters a vampire #mbav #agaypanic

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valarioncy · 4 months ago

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Let's Talk About the Hollow Fandom (and dead fandoms in general)

Hello, The Hollow fandom. This is Cyrokin. I'm sure you all don't need to be told that our fandom is kinda lowkey dead. Activity is hard to come by. I'm one of the senior members of the fandom myself, but I don't get any more activity on my posts than anyone else does.

Look, we can #save the hollow and tell Netflix all day how much we want our show back. But we don't exactly have the fandom to back our wishes. If we want more the Hollow, we've gotta make it ourselves. Fan art, fanfiction, fan animations, fan comics. There are SO MANY fanworks in this fandom left unfinished. Unstarted, even. And it's a crying shame because you guuuuys we have so much potential!

We're a creative bunch! We're an odd bunch! We love what has been broadly cast aside as average! We are a fandom with untapped potential, loving a show full of similar untapped potential! Let's explore that! It'll be fun!

How do fandoms become dead? Fandoms die when fans stop creating, yes. But more importantly, they die when fans stop engaging with what is created. Fans can do their own thing and create stuff all day. But when nobody seems to care, it's discouraging. Eventually some people just give up.

Fandoms aren't corporate machines that pump out products and content to be consumed. Fandoms are made of people sharing love for their favorite characters and stories. Fandom is built on community. When the community dies, the fandom and any interest in it dies too.

So, Hollowers, I implore you all. Those of us who remain. PLEASE, support rather than tear down your fellow fans. Engage with them when they ask for engagement. Like their posts, reblog their posts, share your own creative works. Hell, the fanworks you like the most? Make fanworks for that too.

Please, for the love of fandom, NORMALIZE making fanworks for fanworks. Draw fanart of AUs you like. Write stories set in someone else's AU. If it inspires you, make something with it! This should not be a taboo!

Support your dead fandom, because the few of us that are here, we are all we've got. The Hollow can live, but it's gotta live through us. Netflix failed us. We can't fail us. We've gotta build the world we wanna live in. And if we want a thriving fandom, we've gotta make it ourselves.

-Cy

#save the hollow #the hollow netflix #the hollow #the hollow lives #the hollow adam #the hollow mira #the hollow kai #the hollow reeve #the hollow skeet #the hollow vanessa #fanfiction #the hollow fanart #the hollow fanfiction #the hollow cartoon #the hollow au #the hollow fanfic

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klerothesnowman · 23 days ago

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The New Lower Decks Episode Wasn't About Multiverse Fatigue

I know I usually talk about Star Wars but I like other things that start with Star too! Stargate, Starfox and yes, Star Trek.

I also really, really love Lower Decks. The combination of irreverent comedy and absolutely reverence for a franchise's history and themes is a great combination, no matter what. To bring it back to Star Wars just for a moment, look at the latest Lego Star Wars movie. People love it, and it's got the same DNA as Lower Decks!

But I have a feeling about the new episode of Lower Decks and a cursory search on tumblr suggests I'm the only one feeling it, though people are brushing against it! So I guess I gotta be the one to say it.

Lower Decks is, as an elevator pitch, a Star Trek series starring Star Trek Nerds, made by Star Trek Nerds. Everything in this show drips with a desperate love for every facet of the franchise, from its characters and stories to its themes and universe and this love is reflected in its main characters, especially Mariner and Boimler. Our main pair are absolute giddy nerds every time something Star Trek happens. They lose their minds at the idea of meeting famous Star Trek characters, they know the tropes of a Star Trek episode and get big smiles when they recognize them. Mariner's big emotional climax in Season 4 is even reflective of the way some Star Trek Nerds react to DS9 and post DS9 Star Trek content. It's darker, it's violent, it's big space battles where no one comes out as a hero rather than exploring the galaxy with an optimistic glee. It's not Star Fleet. It's not Star Trek.

These characters are another facet of Lower Deck's desperate love. It's their love for the Fandom.

I'm going to completely contradict my title for a second, yes, absolutely, Boimler's entire character in this episode was about how sick people are of the Multiverse. Because boy howdy are we so fucking sick of it right? We all agree we're sick of it? But here's the thing about the corporate hellscape Multiverse that we're all so sick of.

It's not Gashir being confirmed. No one is making canon alt universes where characters are gay on screen, they were already gay. Yet they're the alternate universe characters who are treated with the most importance.

Garak and Bashir take up a sizable portion of the episodes run time for literally no reason. Their lovers quarrel doesn't matter. You could get rid of Bashir entirely and nothing would change, you'd just need to pad out about 5 minutes of episode. So why was it there?

Because it's fucking Garak and Bashir being on screen gay as fuck, what am I talking about that's worth 5 minutes! And like, yeah, I'm right, absolutely, BUT ALSO?

At the emotional climax of the episode multiverse explorer Lily Sloane convinces Boimler that the multiverse is cool because it's a glimpse into humanities limitless potential. How it's enlightening to experience how different someone could be just because of a minor change in their trajectory. How a completely different team of Avengers would handle the battle of New York, how Spider-Man would be if he was a neo-noir detective, what Hela would be like if she was banished to earth instead of imprisoned.

But that's not Star Trek Multiverses, right? Star Trek multiverses are like... What if we flipped the entire script stuff. Terran Empire and all that. They don't explore minor character changes. They're not about minor variations on beloved characters. This isn't the Star Trek that Lower Decks is dripping with love for.

Another Tumblr user (@abigailnussbaum) had a theory that Curzon was supposed to be Jadzia, because every other character in the crew was "Someone who was screwed by the narrative, writers or just something the fans have long wanted to see"

Another user (@halfbakedideas) said that the episode felt like "a fanfiction writer wrote it"

The reason so much of this episode focused on Garak and Bashir's enduring and perfect love for each other is because the alternate universe where they are on screen gay lovers is the point. It's the beautiful universe that we're exploring.

The episode was about Fan Fiction. It was the Lower Decks writers expressing their appreciation and desperate love for the Fandom writing these characters in new situations, exploring their limitless potential from a narrative position.

#rambling #star trek #lower decks #multiverse #fandom #fan fiction #This show is such a delight and I'm sad it's ending #I really hope the writers get to keep working on this franchise they clearly love #But you know I also hope they get to do their own thing too they're clearly creative people

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hello-from-the-night-archives · 1 year ago

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hello from the hallowoods dashboard simulator

😈 valerie-meme-stone

I'm not ready for my spotify wrapped to just be stonemaiden. like i get it spotify i know i'm gay

53 notes

📝 the-poetry-panopticon Follow

Unfriendly reminder not to sign up for a Dreaming Box subscription! The Botulus Corporation is not to be trusted! Here's an article explaining the language in their contract and why it's concerning! In addtion, they use AI generated images in the Prime Dream, which we should all know by now is unethical.

14,034 notes

🥗 bisexualranchdressing Follow

dang this is crazy. i thought wildfire smoke was bad but what the fuck is this????

🌅 nerdy-tragedy-theorist Follow

well according to color theory

🌅 nerdy-tragedy-theorist Follow

never mind i've got nothing

739 notes

⚡ evil-electrician Follow

friendly reminder to stop spreading misinformation about the black water! people are saying that it brings people and animals back to life but that's not exactly true! although their body may be back, they're not the same person and they will likely become violent and dangerous. please stay inside and be really careful what you and your pets eat or drink.

🐈‍⬛ cats-not-capitalism Follow

fuck you op i'm keeping my undead cat

⚡ evil-electrician Follow

good luck keeping your fingers

48,230 notes

🐧 morally-grey-penguin Follow

1,383,248 notes

eccentricelina-deactivated04232030

i must not go to sleep in the lake today. afternoon nap is the mind killer

eccentricelina-deactivated04232030

mmmmmm cozy

eccentricelina-deactivated04232030

where is my skin

eccentricelina-deactivated04232030

going back to sleep honk shoooooo

635 notes

🌮 mysteriously-crafty-nacho Follow

reblog this post to go north with the person you reblogged this from

54,092 notes

🧊 botulus-corporation Follow

The Botulus Corporation is with you during this difficult time. Join our happy dreaming family where you and your loved ones will be safe from the rain. Tumblr users get 30% off on a Dreaming Box subscription!

🐨 chief-koala-typhoon Follow

73,932 notes

🌿 shiny-wolf-tragedy Follow

it fucken rainny

🐼 dreamland-panda Follow

love that they'll be a literal apocalyse and tumblr users will just make memes. never change tumblr

72,138 notes

👁️‍🗨️ the-magnus-brotocol

choosing between the irl amazing digital circus or probably fucking dying was not on my 2030 bingo card but okay

👁️‍🗨️ the-magnus-brotocol

at this point i just gotta expect that if the year is divisible by 10 then something terrible will happen

94 notes

🐺 werewolves-are-hot

hey do you think i can get a real werewolf boyfriend now that monsters are real

🐺 werewolves-are-hot

any cute werewolf boyfriends in this part of the woods

429 notes

🌷 pleasant-arcade-land

oh man it's been a couple months since I last updated this fanfic huh! so I just drank some black water by accident and now I have a few extra fingers, and honestly that took some getting used to, but it's actually pretty convenient now and is really helpign me get more words in lol im still here writing homestuck fanfic in 2030 hehehehehe anyway new chapter here

38 notes

🌑 the-void-whispers Follow

so, it looks like tumblr might be dying soon due to, well, *gestures wildly.* You'll have to kill me before I join Twitter now that the Botulus Corporation bought it (and no, I am not calling it B, that is just stupid) so if you want to hear from me you will simply need to look out for passenger pigeons. in the meantime, ill be here until tumblr straight up dies and i have a crying session about it

🦌 gamer-guy-bath-water Follow

we do not grieve ice when it melts, or celebrate the sapling when it rises from the soil. they just are. life and death and rebirth are one constant state. and without change, there would be nothing to watch

⚔️ sword-lesbian-enthusiast

add that to the list of banger quotes from tumblr memes

82,362 notes

#my post #hfth #hfthw #hello from the hallowoods #unreality #fake post #hfth spoilers

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crowandmousewritingco · 6 months ago

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Coffee Shop Meet Cute

Pairing: Frankie (Catfish) Morales x gn!reader

Words: 2.5k

Rating: G (brief mention of addiction and divorce)

Summary: Needing to get out of your hostel, you find yourself at a quaint coffee shop run by handsome stranger.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: This is another entry in the Secret Springs challenge by @secretelephanttattoo. This is technically an entry for week 3 shops prompts (I'm using coffee shop for this)

This hostel was the worst idea. Especially when you were trying to finish this chapter in your book, but the guy in the bunk above you was snoring like a fog horn and you couldn’t handle the woman across from you who insisted she tell you the same story of her trip to Switzerland for the 18th time today. You had to get out of here. Quickly you searched your phone for the nearest coffee shop and all the chains popped up first. You scrolled past them, not interested in some corporate super shop.

One name in particular stuck out to you. Catfish Coffee. That sounds promising. You thought and quickly packed your backpack before the storyteller returned. With the directions on your phone, you followed the winding paths of the city.

The quaint town was one of many options in what can only be described as a vacation country. Your friend had convinced you to take a trip for yourself after your recent divorce, and you weren’t going to argue with them. Spending a week just reading and writing to your heart's content sounded like a dream.

The voice on the map took you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see the sign for Catfish Coffee. The logo was a simple design with a cute cartoon catfish holding a coffee shop wearing a hat with the logo of Standard Heating. You smirked not expecting how cute this shop would be. Excitedly you pushed open the door making a small bell ring.

You were greeted with the cool air conditioning making you shiver just a bit wishing you had brought your cardigan. Soft music sang through the shop helping add to the relaxing environment. There weren’t many customers in at the moment which gave you some relief. Finally you could find some comfort in your own company.

The single barista turned at the sound and smiled when he saw you. He was older than you were expecting, maybe in his late 40s. Curly hair poke out from his well loved hat and he wore a dark blue apron with the logo of the shop in the center which when you got closer to the counter you realized that it was the same hat the catfish was wearing.

“Welcome to Catfish Coffee. What can we get you?” He asked in a friendly tone.

“Well this is my first time here. What would you recommend?” You asked, adjusting your bag.

“Depends on what you like,” He stated as he turned to point at the menu behind him. “If you want something to beat the heat we got plenty of frozen drinks. Looking for something more casual we got plenty of lattes hot and cold, coffee and tea based. Want something more simple we got plenty of roasts from local farms that you can sample on our coffee flights.” He turned back to look at you smiling.

“That’s quite the selection you offer,” You commented looking over the menu again.

He blushed and rubbed the back on the neck. “Gotta make sure there’s something for everyone.”

“And that gives me an excuse to come back and try all of them,” You reply.

You might have misread his expression but you might have caught a hint of a blush on his stubble cheeks. “You are always welcome back.”

“I’ll take the honey latte then,” You said when you finally decided.

The barista rang up your order with a flurry of hands. “Great choice, that one’s quite popular. We get the honey locally as well.”

You hand him your card. “I didn’t realize this resort had so many local businesses.”

“It’s amazing what they were able to make here,” He added, handing your card back to you. “That’ll be out in just a minute.”

“Thank you…” You paused to look down at his name tag. “Frankie.”

“No problem. Love seeing new faces,” He added as he grabbed a cup.

“You must get a lot people coming and going,” You commented.

“That’s mostly who we get, but we have some regulars that come in,” He adds over his shoulder as he pumps the syrup into the plastic cup.

“I’m glad you have dedicated customers,” You said as you look around the cafe. “It’s a very cute place.”

“Thank you,” He replied as he poured the milk into the cup. “I’m very proud of it.” He finished making the drink and set it on the counter in front of you.

“As you should be,” You smiled and took your drink. You turned and headed toward one of the empty tables.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie couldn’t help but be intrigued by the customer that just walked in. They weren’t the usual clientele he attracted. But there you were sitting at one of the booths holding what can only be described as a tome in your hand. That book must be at least 600 pages, and you were reading as if you were on a deadline. And you had been here for a few hours at least. He was surprised you weren’t interested in any other vacation type activities.

You seemed so sweet despite the small interaction he had shared with you, and he did want to get to know you. Though he didn’t want to come off as weird so he continued with his business.

A couple more customers came and went, but you persisted. He checked the time. It had been well past three hours since you entered the store. Though you were no longer reading that encyclopedia. You were typing away at a tablet now with a look of determination etched on your cute face. Wait, did he really think that you were cute? Frankie shook his head rubbing his eyes. Maybe he needed more coffee.

He made himself a simple cup of coffee and when he turned around he realized you were now the only one left in the shop. Frankie tapped his fingers against the counter and quickly set his own coffee down. He quickly made another honey latte for you, and took a deep breath before bringing it over to your table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Writing was hard. You were on a roll, the plot and scenes were all coming together, but then you swear to any god out there it just left you. There your main character was having a triumphant monologue, and then blip! It was gone. You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

“Troubles?” You heard a voice and looked up. You smiled when you saw it was Frankie. “Sorry, I know you’ve been here awhile and thought you could use a refill.” You held up a hand to protest, but he interrupted with a smile. “On the house.”

“Thank you,” You smiled and happily received the additional drink. You took a sip and it felt yourself relax once again.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what has you all stressed out?”

“Oh just the masterpiece I’m supposed to be creating,” You answered with a bit of sarcasm in your voice and gesture to your screen.

Frankie leaned over to peek at the screen. “You have a good amount so far.”

“And that’s the problem. I was on a roll but then some writing demon decided to take away my ability to form basic sentences,” You sighed and ran your hand through your hair.

“I don’t know much about writing. Never did well in English class, but I can tell you if you force something it will break. Maybe come back to it with a fresh mind tomorrow,” Frankie offered.

You sighed. “I know you’re right, I'm just impatient. I’ve been trying to write this for months now.”

He chuckled, “I know that feeling, but you might also feel better with some food in you too.” He glanced at the clock then continued. “I close up here soon and my buddies own a bar not too far from here. I can take you there if you want.” He offered rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled softly. “I actually would really like that.”

Frankie smiled. “Then that’s what we shall do. In the meantime, read more of that book of yours. It seems like a good one.”

You blushed. He noticed you were reading? Frankie was really quite thoughtful. “It is. It’s got me on the edge of my seat.”

“You’ll have to tell me how it goes,” He says, heading back to his counter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie was right. Reading more of that book helped with your stress and even gave you an idea for your own book. Before you knew it, Frankie was closing up shop and the two of you walked out into the cool summer air. He quickly locked up the front. Instead of wearing his barista apron, he switched his wardrobe for a worn flannel.

“The bar is just down this way,” He gestured down the road where you could see a neon sign outside the restaurant.

“It looks like a cute place,” You mention as you started down the sidewalk.

“It’s quite the popular bar. They’ve really done a lot with it. Turned it from a almost condemned building to one of the more popular restaurants in town.” Frankie beamed as he talked about his buddies. It was clear he was very proud of what they had accomplished.

You smiled. “That’s amazing to hear.” You took in a deep breath and caught a scent of Frankie’s collonge. He smelled of sandalwood and other earthy tones which you had to admit was one of your favorites. When you reached the door, Frankie held the door open and you thanked him. He really is a gentleman you thought as you entered the establishment.

The Ironhead Bar was quite the place to be. All sorts of sports games were playing on the screens with plenty of what could only be described as “manly decor” lined the wall. Anything from sports memorabilia to old army collectibles covered the different sections. As if he owned the place Frankie took a seat at the bar and you sat down next to him. Usually bars weren’t your scene, but you felt oddly at home at his establishment.

A young man wearing a hat almost as worn as Frankie’s hat looked up and smiled a wide smile when he saw you two. “Catfish! Fancy seeing ya here tonight.” he saddled up to the two of you cleaning a glass with a rag.

“Benny I come here every night,” Frankie rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“Maybe I should make you start paying your tab,” Benny joked and smacked Frankie lightly on the shoulder. He then looked over at you. “You though are a new face. Frankie, who’s this handsome person?” He asked, gesturing with his thumb.

“I just so happened to stop by the coffee shop today,” You said looking over at Frankie. “I guess I overstayed my welcome, but Frankie invited me to get dinner with him.”

That seemed to make Benny smirk. “I see,” He glances between you and Frankie, his smile growing even bigger.

Frankie rolled his eyes and lightly pushed Benny’s shoulder. “Just get us a couple of Pope burgers and beers.”

“You got it boss,” Benny winked at you before heading back to the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the interaction. “I’m guessing you’ve known each other a long time.”

“You can say that. We’re old army buddies. Once we got out we decided to stick together and open our dream places. He opened this place with his brother, and well you know the coffee shop.”

You smiled softly and leaned your head on your hand. “Ah that’s where the catfish came from,” You said more to yourself. “That's really nice actually. You must really like coffee.”

Frankie chuckled. “You can say that. You could also say it saved my life.”

“I feel like there's a story there,” You say as Benny sets your beers down. You didn’t miss it when he gave Frankie an eyebrow wiggle before talking to more customers.

“There is,” He said, taking a quick sip of his beer. “I’m actually a recovering addict.” Your eyes widened and he held up his hand. “Not beer hermoso. It was cocaine. Got addicted in the army and could never get over it. It wasn’t until Will, Benny’s brother, knocked some sense into me. We found out that coffee was a good substitute for the way I felt high, and well here I am. Five years clean.”

You smile softly. “That’s really amazing.”

Frankie blushed and took another sip. “Thank you. It was a hard journey, but it helps when you have friends as loyal as them.”

“I second that. I wouldn’t be where I am without my best friend either,” You smiling thinking about all the times your friends saved you.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Frankie asked before taking another sip of his beer.

“I was planning on taking a vacation to work on my book, but um,” You chuckled a little sad. “I found my husband cheating on me so this vacation became the ‘write and not thinking about the divorce’ vacation. Sorry I didn’t mean to that deep.”

Frankie’s eyes were sympathetic. “I get it. I’m divorced too.”

Your eyes were caring in return. He sighed “Took the kid in the middle of the night and I haven’t heard from them since. But I think it’s for the better.”

“Most of the time it usually is, but it's that mountain of emotions that you have to drill through first.”

Frankie raised his glass to you. “I’ll drink to that,” He said and you brought your own glass to clink with him. You both took another sip and set your glasses down.

Benny returned with two red plastic food trays and set them down in front of you. “Two Pope burgers on the house for Frankie and the lovely fella.”

Frankie rolled his eyes and thanked him. Benny patted his shoulder again and continued making drinks. You grabbed the big burger with all the workings and carefully took a bite. You moaned at the taste. “Damn that’s a great burger.”

Frankie moaned in agreement. His face was as messy as your spots of ketchup dotting his salt and pepper beard. You chuckled and handed him a napkin. He blushed and took it from you using it to wipe up the mess.

You swallowed your bit. “Don’t worry. I bet my face doesn’t look much better.”

“I think your face looks handsome,” Frankie semi blurted and blushed.

You giggled and took a sip of your beer. “Is that so?” You tease.

Frankie cleared his throat. “So um how long are you on this writing vacation?”

“About a week. That should hopefully give me enough time to write what I want. And -now that I have a comfy place to work- I should definitely finish this book on time.”

“Well you have a table whenever you want,” Frankie blushed.

You pick up your glass. “I’m definitely taking you up on that offer.” Frankie raises his glass to you, giving it a small clink. You had a feeling that this was the start of something really nice.

-------

Pedro Characters Only Taglist

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

#crow and mouse writings #mod mouse writing #secretsprings #secret springs #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #frankie morales x gn!reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedrohub #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro brainrot #fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction

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saphig-iawn · 2 months ago

Text

Feel My Words!

I am opening commissions for short stories!

I have 5 slots open for now to see how things work out on my end with it.

I've received a lot of love for my writing, and it is something I adore doing. I love writing about the sessions and I will keep doing so and putting them here, but after writing more fiction on Cohost (Rest in power, sweet eggbug), I think this is something I would love to do more of.

The commission is live on Ko-fi, but please only purchase once you've filled out this form.

If you've read this far, then please enjoy a piece I wrote for Cohost. It is about working behind the scenes at theme park where you find yourself becoming far more involved than you thought. It is called:

Behind the Scenes

CW: noncon transformation

The keycard swipe took a few attempts before the device fixed to the wall chirped in affirmation. It was almost too hard to hear over the roar of the crowds and rides, but her new colleague's beaming grin was enough of a sign that ingress into the behind the scenes of the theme park was successful.

"Eee I just love showing new folk around! 'Specially the behind the scenes, heheheee~!" Norene squealed- wait was it Norene? Naomi? She was so excited to be lifting the veil on the magic of the park that it was very hard to see her name badge.

You had already been shown around some of the staff areas- oh, not staff, you were a Showhand, gotta keep up the act in front of the all the park visitors- but this was your first time being shown behind the scenes of a ride. It was bittersweet, because the ride was one of your favourites, was being a keyword because it got changed in the time between your last visit and getting a job here. Some of the characters were a touch dated so a big facelift and rebranding was ordered and their hard work swept away the memories and tucked them behind the wall in vacuum sealed bags. Bags that you were now looking at.

"Gawsh I miss these little guys too" 'Norene' said from behind you, "But all the new stuff is gonna make new happy memories for the kids queuing up today!" She patted you on the back, and it felt far more assuring than you expected. You hated the whole "We're a family" corporate message, but you can tell 'Norene' really cared.

Skipping from scene to scene, diorama to diorama, 'Norene' ran through the checks needed to ensure a safe ride. It being a small dark ride made these checks quite quick as everything was pretty condensed in the space, the focus was largely on the scenes the cars would pass through.

"Now, everythin' good so far?" 'Norene' wheeled on her heel to catch your eyes, her playfulness retreated behind a stern look. You nodded in agreement. Her face lit back up again. "Great! Now, we got ourselves a special item added to our checks today, one of the characters missed a beat on her performance so when she spun around for the big ol' long note, the servos in her arm ripped up her costume something good, so we gotta replace it."

A little chill shocked you as the realisation of your responsibility set in. Even on this small ride, there were just so many moving parts, so many points of potential failure. If one things goes awry then the whole experience is changed.

"Oooh yup, I had that too!" You felt 'Norene' wrap you in a deep hug, then a pat on the shoulder. "You don't got to worry though, we're both in charge o' this ride, it'll all go like clockwork!"

You soften in her support, the chill around your chest ablating in her warmth.

She directs you to where all manner of spare things are kept for the ride, including costumes for the humanoid animatronic characters.

The rebrand was a strange thing to explore from this perspective. Not quite uncanny, but everything you saw brought up feelings of familiarity and other. The ride before and after were 'period settings' according to official documentation, so there was a lot that got reused and recycled. You felt like you were in one of those hidden secrets videos where a chipper host guides you through the hidden details and traces of previous rides.

The rebrand was of a typical diamond-in-the-rough story, a bright woman with big ideas gets overlooked, patriarchal systems punch her when she's down, but a sudden beautification has the world finally see her. It was… meh. What wasn't lacklustre was the quality of the costumes. Even the saccharine sweet pink dress that the main character ends up in was incredibly well made. That was until the animatronic tore streaks through it.

As you unpacked the new costume from its protective sleeves, it amazed you. For a garment that would never be worn by a person, there were so many parts to it. Petticoats, a corset, stockings, garter belts, bloomers, suspenders, the lot. You suppose that, if this character is whirling and twirling, then you got to treat them a like a real dancer and not have too many points where a gap in the outfit might spoil the show.

The dress itself was a statement in pink satin. A skirt, that almost looked caged, but your keen eyes spotted how the tiers were actually built on small pulley systems so the animatronic beneath could send the right parts of the fabric in a spin or a flurry. The bodice pulled right in at the waist, with proud pink bows adorning the bustle and bust. Long bishop sleeves billowed out into pristine frilled cuffs. The collar sat high, with plenty of room for the deep emerald green choker.

"Like God made it herself, huh?" sighed 'Norene'. You could almost taste her admiration in the air. She walked around the table you had laid it out on, gently running her hands over the fabric like she was greeting friendly koi at a pond. Her face was aglow, but that was largely because of the light reflecting from the dress. You melt a little in yourself, seeing 'Norene' so happy. "It was Norene!" you shouted triumphantly in your head. She was finally stood still long enough to read her name tag properly.

"Whenever I ran tests on this ride, I loved watching her dance in this dress." Norene said, dreamily. "Gawsh I just wanna scoop it up off the table an' wear it myself."

There's a tone to her voice, you recognised it; thinly veiled yearning. You had been there too, watching princesses in films when you were younger and wanting to be them with every fibre of your being.

"While it makes the kids happy an' all, something like this is a little wasted on silicone and servos." Norene's pleasantness gave way a little. Barbs of envy stood a little too proud in her words. The smile on the corners of her mouth faded.

"Besides, I'm too small for the costume. While I love everythin' here, they never quite cater to everyone in all their splendors." There was a bitterness. "Its always the same kinda shapes, and the same sorta looks. And when they finally have the ba-" She stops herself, her cheeks flushed with equal parts injustice and embarrassment.

She looks up to you, almost pleadingly. You return a soft smile, but before you can offer words of support her face snaps back to jollity, like a bulb in her mind had just flashed with inspiration.

Without breaking eye contact, Norene grabs the dress by its shoulders and drapes it over your front.

"Oh… mygod…" she just about manages. Her eyes are wide and epiphanic. She suddenly retreats into herself, bunching the dress up at her chest, like a small child aware of their timidity and hiding behind a pillow. She looks at the clock, and scans the room for cameras unbeknownst to you.

"Wouldja wanna… uh.. try it on?" she trembled.

Like the Showhands who don costumes and personalities, you suddenly felt like you were being greeted by a character's biggest fan, and about to make a dream come true. You nod silently, a smile on your face.

Norene squeals with excitement, some of it tapping into the part of her brain that confuses cuteness with aggression. The dress felt this emotion the most, but she gasped as she realised that was causing the garment distress.

Like a character from one of the films, Norene danced and pranced around, guiding you to a chair and sitting you down. It felt really strange having parts of the costume being put on over your uniform, but you guessed this impromptu cosplay wouldn't be on for long so the discomfort was bearable. Despite your cargo pants, the stockings hugged your legs well. The garter sitting neatly over the frilled panties. You felt so relieved that Norene couldn't see your face because having a fairly new acquiantance be so much in your personal space had your cheeks ablaze.

Dissociating in that moment to not focus on what was happening meant Norene yanking you to your feet snapped you back. It felt so odd to be stood fully clothed with period lingerie on top. You almost felt a bit vulnerable, like you should be covering up. Norene whipped about you with the character's corset. Surprisingly, the garment needed very little adjusting. Your polo shirt was not the appropriate accompaniment to its finery.

Norene brings the dress over and holds it open for you to push your arms through and in. The inside felt amazing. The lining glided over your skin. The dress hugged and accentuated in the just the right places. If you stood still in the right place, you almost stopped feeling your stuffy polo shirt and cargo pants.

There it was. Giddiness. A bubble. Right in the chest. You felt yourself smiling.

"AaaaAAaah! Look at you darlin'!" Norene's praise was almost a shriek. You felt her tighting and adjusting, zhuzhing and tweaking. "Aaaaah its time for tha finishin' tooouuuch!"

The way the light catches the green ribbon of the choker stuns you for a moment. It felt like peering into another world, its sky alight with an aurora; its broach framing this world like a painting.

Norene brings it up to your neck, and walks around you to fasten it.

You felt… complete? A rare feeling, but you felt satisfied. Like wearing this costume was right.

"Gawsh have I waited so long for this." Norene purrs. "So. Long."

Wait. There it was again. Those barbs of envy, but this time they felt more severe. Like fangs. The hairs on your neck pricked with apprehension, a slight panic set in. Maybe it was time to take this off-

An arm barred across your shoulders as a hand clamped on your mouth.

Your gasp was caught by the hand and forced back in as you went to struggle.

"No! Nonono, don't ruin this sweetie, I've waited- uhn- so long" Norene spat.

You tried to move towards an exit of any kind, hoping you could get out, even if Norene was dragged with you. No one would care about you being in the costume, if they saw Norene trying to attack you, right?

But your feet didn't respond.

You heaved forward, almost lifiting Norene off her feet, in attempt to shift your weight but your feet would not budge.

"Darlin' it'll be so much easi- hey! nonono- so much easier if you just let it happen!"

Like the dimming lights of a rolling blackout, your legs began to seize up and cease moving. Your breath was quickening, the panic was birthing screams that Norene's hand kept denying.

"Oh come on! Gunna have to adjust your feet now, this is not a- whoa!- not a cute pose!"

Pose? What the fuck was she talking about?

Your fingers find purchase between her arm and your shoulders, the sleeves being the biggest obstacle in trying to find a point of grip. You try hard to pull her arm away, but the rising immobility made things difficult.

Your core muscles stopped responding.

The strength in your arms was beginning to wane.

"That's it darlin', there we go." Norene cooed. It was chilling, you felt like a prey caught in a trap, being soothed by your captor. How could she be like this while attacking you? "Just a lil' more, just a lil' more!"

Your arms have almost locked in place.

You deploy a last resort.

You feel your teeth sink into Norene's palm.

"Ah ya lil' rat! Stop biting!"

Like it was willed by her words, your next bite was softer. And softer.

"Aaahh… there we go…" Norene sighed, releasing her grip on your frozen lips.

You try to look at your captor but your head won't move.

Norene walks into your vision.

"God you're beautiful. The pose, I can work on, but you look so perfect hun."

You so wished your eyes could inflict pain on her but despite staring harder than you've ever stared, Norene was uneffected.

Norene ducks below your eyeline. The sound of snipping scratches through the air. You feel something shifting and brushing on your skin. You tried so, so, hard to do anything but you remained frozen and reluctantly posed in your final moment of struggle.

A hand holding butchered cargo pants enters your eyeline.

"Won't be needing these anymore!" said the hand, before it drops them like a discarded wrapper.

You feel the dress and bodice press into your form even more, as Norene reappears, holding shreds of your polo shirt.

"There we go, darlin'. Can't have the kids seeing anything outta place. Besides, princesses don't wear polos."

Your mind was racing with anger and frustration. Was this it? Being held captive as Norene's own doll?

As that thought finished in your trapped mind, Norene began to pose you. The way your vision changed would be nauseating but whatever form you were in now didn't allow you that privilege.

"You see," Norene said from behind you, adjusting your legs and hips., "it wasn't just the costume that bit the dust, it was the whole character! But now, with you here an' dressed perfectly, they're gonna find the character's been fixed and that I did it and my perfect record of maintaining this ride will be maintained! Oh and they'll be none the wiser of course, hehe!"

You wanted to frown and spit at her glee, but your face remained stubbornly serene, now framed by your gloves

"Can't have folk goin' 'round asking questions either, so I'll make sure to work a lil' magic on those who jam their noses in where they shouldn't belong." She positions herself in front of you, admiring her work, running her hands up and down your frame and curves. "Not like what I worked on you, hun. No no, you're special darlin'. It was so fortuitious that ya landed in my care on a day like today." She adjusted the skirt of your dress. "I'll take care of ya darlin', thass a good girl."

She reached above her head at a dangling control and pressed a chunky button.

Your mind filled with music. Your inner voice erupting into song. Your ears heard no sound yet your body began to move and dance like a band was playing your theme. You wanted to revolt, to fudge the moves and break your voice, but you continued, like you were made for this.

Norene smiled.

#saphiposting #queue #hypnodomme #hypnok1nk #hypnotic #trance #brainwash #brainwashing #hypnosis #mind control #erotichypnosis #hypno fantasy

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