#guess who tried to make this short and totally failed again!

[wcbblife]

Can you make a short drabble about Juju getting hurt and the reader comforting her?? I don't have anything specific in mind so just do what you think is best. Thank youu

Hurt Juju X fem!reader

a/n: hopefully you like it anon! Sorry for just disappearing like that 😭

Rehabilitation had been utterly exhausting today. After such a successful volleyball season with the Trojans, being sidelined for an entire series of games felt almost soul-crushing. Yet, you resolved to push through, focusing on recovery and coming back stronger next year.

Glancing at the time, you found it strange that Juju hadn't called. Her game had ended hours ago, but your phone remained silent, devoid of any calls or texts. Normally, you would have dropped by to watch her play, but the off-season healing process had drained your energy.

Juju had been totally understanding, but you couldn't quell the guilt gnawing at you. Deciding to take a risk, you call her, hoping she's done with the press and everything else.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. Nothing.

Before you can try again, a knock on your front door startles you, draining almost all the blood from your face. “Babe, it's me. Open the door.” Juju's voice, exasperated and tired, comes from the other side.

Ignoring the dull throbbing in your knee, you wobble over and pull the door open quickly.

There stood Juju, her head hanging uncharacteristically low, her frame swallowed by a huge hoodie. You know something's wrong. “Hey, come in,” you whisper, pulling her closer by the front of her hoodie.

She lets you, offering no resistance.

“Ju, look at me.” You cup her face, and that's when you see it—a shallow gash under her cheekbone. You also catch a glimpse of something under her hoodie.

“What happened?”

Juju shrugs, letting her bags drop to the ground carelessly. “The refs felt like being shit today, I guess.” She grips her side as if in pain.

You slide your hands around her. “Let me help you.”

“You're hurt, babe. I'll do it myself.” Juju tries to get you to sit down, but you can't—not when she’s practically begging with her eyes for you to just… touch her.

“Juju, you're hurt too. Let me take care of you.” A wave of uncertainty flashes in her eyes. “It's the least I can do.”

“Fine,” she grumbles, slouching towards you. She grabs your waist, trying to help you with your injured knee, but you gently move her hand to your shoulder, giving her a look.

“Don’t worry about me.” You both sway to the bathroom of your dorm, and you make her sit on the counter. She does so without much difficulty, but you notice the wince that flashes across her face.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. They were checking I was okay. I would've called you, but I lost track of time and just…” She continues rambling as you search for the first aid kit wordlessly.

Juju writhes on her spot, almost anxiously.

You open the small container, glancing over at her. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay.” An invisible weight seems to lift from her shoulders as she keeps her eyes trained on you while you move around the small bathroom. You then stop in front of her, nestling yourself between her long legs.

“Still, I feel bad.”

A soft smile creeps onto your face. Even in pain, Juju couldn’t stop thinking about you. You tug at the hem of her hoodie, silently asking her to take it off. “Please don’t. You’re here now, and that’s what matters to me.” Seeing that Juju is planted to her spot, you take the initiative, dragging her hoodie up across her midriff and over her head once she raises her arms slowly.

“Oh, Juju.” The gasp that escapes you is inevitable as your eyes land on a maze of bandages crisscrossing her right shoulder. She tries to hide it but fails miserably. Your fingers slowly hover over the area. “I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“It could be worse,” she chuckles slightly, then immediately stops and clears her throat when she sees your unamused face. “Just a simple injury, babe.”

“Who even did this?” You trail your finger softly over the bandaged area, too afraid to apply any pressure.

She shrugs. “Beats me.” Juju then falls deathly quiet, fiddling with her basketball shorts. Seeing your serious expression, she pulls you closer, wanting to be near you. “I just wanted to be here with you.” You cup her face again, your own face just centimeters away. She wraps her arms around your midriff, hugging you impossibly close. “I’m going to get blood on your shirt,” she mumbles, yet she doesn’t pull away, nudging her nose into the crook of your neck.

“Eugh, you’re right,” Juju chuckles lightly, her breath caressing your skin, making you giggle. “You should kiss me then.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She mumbles, tilting her head to the side. If one of you moved even a little, your mouths would slot perfectly against each other.

“Alright…” You try to tease her by pulling away, but the look on her face tells you she is in no mood for games.

Juju pulls you into a searing kiss by the back of your neck, almost knocking you off balance. You manage to stay upright by grabbing her thighs, positioned on either side of your hips. Juju lets out a soft groan as you squeeze the skin beneath your fingers, practically melting into you.

You press your front against hers, deepening the kiss. Juju sighs softly—painfully—as she backs away. “Shit.” Before you can open your eyes, she presses her lips onto yours again.

But before she can take it any further, she pulls back, holding the gash on her cheekbone. “It hurts,” she murmurs, anticipating your question.

“Right, sorry. Let’s get this done.” You laugh gently, reaching over to the medicine in the small box and getting to work on her face.

She sits there quietly, like a child who’s been reprimanded.

“Don’t get mad.”

“I’m not,” she mumbles, “just wanted to make out.”

“Yeah, well, we still need to ice your shoulder. So, we might have to pause this for later.”

[joonsty]

Hybrid Au :

BunnyJungkook X Human Reader 🐰

Warnings : extreme possesive and obsessive behavior, smut, slight yandere themes? explicit sexual content; oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial/control, choking, unprotected sex, shower sex, creampie, marking/hickeys, rough, pet names, piss kink, rough manhandling? i guess bunny boy is stronger than reader. mentions of alcohol, pills, plot twist at the end, hint of soft/kook, I’m so fucking shite at recognising what bunnies do when they are angry or whatever so…I’m sorry. 🤍 uhm I feel like there’s more but I suppose I’ll remember later!

this is my first post on tumblr, so i guess im a bit nervous? I hope you like it!! requests are open, so feel free to send in suggestions & ideas! °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

your keys rattled in the little doorlock, failing multiple times on opening the door. “fuck“ you sighed out as you dropped your keys on the floor. If i were to describe you, i would say you were drunk, sticky & a hot mess, but most importantly totally fucked. It was times like these, where you were drunk, that you would forget the rules and the people around you. He tried his hardest, drilling the words into your mind, making your dumb stupid brain memorize it by heart. But even then, you forgot the most important rule.

never ever leave your bunny boy alone.

so yeah, in simple words, you were fucked. you didn't know about the evil that sat in your house, glaring at the four walls in so much anger and pain. If only you listened, if only you paid more attention to your bunny boy than you did to your friends. who even cared about your friends? he could kill them in a heartbeat. sure, it’ll hurt you, but the sweet pain he would see on your face, your warm tears dribbling down your cheeks, it would be worth it.

so welcome back to the present, you grabbed your right hand, and steadily plopped the key into the lock, twisting it in success. “finally” you groaned out. your feet was sore and burning. you needed a shit ton of pain relievers and a warm shower to make you feel better tonight, maybe even a cuddle from your favourite boy. but oh god, how everything was going to go down the drain.

you sluggishly walked into your apartment and halted, eyes immediately locking with the hothead in-front of you. “g-gukkiieeee” you slurred as you ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and breathing in his musky scent. oh god, he felt so nice, you thought as you pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

before you could even comprehend what happened, he pushed you off him, making you stumble back a bit. “hey what are you-?” “don’t fucking touch me.” he growled. his fluffy bunny ears standing up straight, and you even noticed how big? he almost seemed. he turned his back to you and walked away to your shared bedroom, leaving you in the main room, confused and dizzy.

“oh fuck it” you thought, as you walked yourself in the bedroom as well. to be honest, you’ve had enough with jungkooks behaviour. his constant fear of him losing you to someone else, or how he made you drop and block all your male friends because, “I trust you baby, it’s them I don’t trust” & all that bullshit.

as you walked in, you saw him sitting on the bed, earphones plugged in, blasting his music on the full. he didn’t even spare you a glance. you really hated when he was angry. but then again, it was kind of like this all the time. you shimmied out of your dress, grabbing his tshirt and some shorts and scurried your way to the bathroom.

your feet touch the cold marble floor and you jerk back a bit, “wooh okay” you mentally prepare yourself before stepping in the shower. your hand turns the knobs for the water and the drizzles of shower comes shooting down as the warmest of summer rain, your eyes squeeze shut as you bask & enjoy the warm water dissolving all your pain and aches away.

you stay like that for a few minutes, gradually getting sleepier by the second, eyes feeling heavy and your legs on the verge to give out. god you should finish this shower and head to bed so you can slee-

“who tf do you think you are, hm?”

you flinch as his voice finally reaches you. fuck, you didn’t know whether to be shit scared or shit turned on rn. “what do-“

“shut the fuck up, whore.”

your mouth instantly seizes up. you’re pretty sure he can hear the loud thumping of your heart, punching against your fragile rib cage & the small breathy whimpers that leave your mouth.

his rough hand latches onto your throat and you swear your stomach clenches a bit. his calloused fingers soothingly rubbing the sides of your throat. you can practically feel his hard abs pressing your back, but thats not all. you gulp, taking a deep breath in.

“baby, whats wr-“ you get interrupted again & his hold tightens just a tad bit more.

“did i say you could fucking speak?“ he grits out.

“you know all you had to do was tell me, and i would've fucked this dirty cunt of yours, but no, my dumb little bitch wanted to go and fuck someone else.“

you look at him with wide eyes, what the hell is he talking about?

in a swift moment, hes got you pressed against the wall. the pebbles of your breast brushing uncomfortably against the tiles causing you to bite down on your bottom lip.

“guess i have to remind you that this pussy...“

his hand roughly slaps your clit, making you jump in pleasure.

“belongs to me, and only me.“

------------------------------------------------

& thats how you ended up, face down and ass up on the satin bed. tears streaming down your face, while you begged him to “stop, its too much“and in response he laughed at your face, mocking your whimpers.

you could say that the initial pain was blinding, feeling yourself getting stretched out by him made all your racing thoughts dissipate as every nerve in your brain focused on not passing out. plain and pleasure, that's what it was about.

your hands roughly clenched around the black sheet beneath you, his body pinning you down, his thick girth hitting impossibly deep inside you. you immediately muffled your screams into the bedsheet, allowing drool to dribble down your mouth and stain it.

in a sudden movement, you felt his hand wrap around your locks and painfully pull back. “who fucks you better hm?“ he breathes out, as his pace quickens. “what” you whimper out as you bite down on your bottom lip.

his nose tickles your jaw, as he guides his mouth closer to your ears. “I said, does he fuck you better than me?” he pulls out, making you gasp at the loss of contact on instinct. “god- you’re test-“ “no” “what did you say?” he grunts out, as he repeatedly taps his cock on ur clit, gently pushing in and out, teasing you. your walls clench around nothing and you could finally say that the pain was getting worse, you wanted a release and you wanted it bad.

“no, no you’re the only one I want, please, please, please” you begged, pathetically.

“hm I didn’t hear you what did you say?”

“please bunny, I need to-“

“excuse me?”

“please please, daddy, let me cum, I’ll do anything, please”

his cocky chuckle filled the four walls, bouncing of em and directly piercing through your ears.

“good girl.”

daam fuck. you couldn’t deny the warmth that started to fill your belly by his praise. sooner than expected, you came. like he always says "cumming on daddys cock like a filthy slut".

and you was indeed, HIS filthy slut.

you slumped down onto the bed, heart pounding within your chest, sweat gathering on your forehead and a insane urge for more. he fell next to you on the bed and his large hand clasped around your waist, pulling you next to him. You could smell his cologne entangled with his musky scent, how could you resist him, you just wanted him to roll you over and dwe-

'you okay?' he whispered, big eyes staring at you, and you stared right back.

'yeah...' you answered, as your hands slowly crept down his abdomen, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. you softly palmed his solid, pink hard-on and low purrs resonated to your ears.

'what are you-'

he was interrupted. you spit on his cock and hungrily slide him into your mouth, taking him in as much as you could, a small gag from you makes him hiss and he throws his head back. you lick the stripe of vein on the side and swirl your tongue softly on his tip, oh how he wants to just grab your hair and force you on his cock until your a blabbering mess, but he doesn't want to ruin the moment.

you pull back with a pop and glare at the man who's now ready to do whatever you want.

"oh how the tables have turned..."

hope you liked that! i will be posting more stories soon! if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know! ♡

do you prefer shorter or longer stories? (ill keep it in mind for next time!)

thanks for supporting! if you have any requests or ideas, please dont hesitate to dm me! even if you just want to have a chat! ⋅ ୨୧ ⋅

@meowyoongii @amyyysposts @theuniverse4koo @era-genius @gukjshi

(tag list currently!)

[eldritch-spouse]

Rinx and cute human auction host with impeccable sense of humour 🗣️ hear me out while I'm drunk again

just ✨imagine✨ – some closed auction with very specific-and-unique stuff, aimed on some narrow monster audience. Why human is a host here? She kinda... wanted a job not in McDonald's, but luck wasn't on her side – at the end, it is what it is. She started to make small talks with visitors and crack jokes around only to escape her fate as an auction lot. To her big surprise and happiness, visitors found feigned confidence believable, as well her humour sharp and dark enough for their twisted tastes, but not too belittling or offensive to hear from a mere human.

More so, she grew popular in this small community. Now she's cheeky and brave enough to talk back to some especially rude visitors– It's still a joke to everyone tho. Laughing stock of the day usually gets too embarrassed to come on her twice and audience can be ruthless.

But huh??? At some totally normal day here's more people than usual??? Regulars looking especially nervous for some reason???? And her boss is suddenly disappears after some lameass short unreadable message about "special guest"?????

Huh. Strange. Well, whatever, business is business-

Guess who got in the playful sarcastic bullshittery with some giant broccoli head first and now sweating bullets cuz that dude is just... Buys everything? Every-single-fucking-lot???? His bets are so high for a quite literal trash sometimes, is he insane???? She knows who is it from the first bet honestly, but she keeps repeating for her own sanity that it's some obsessive cosplayer.

And at the end of the auction he refuses to leave and makes a ridiculously small bet on "the charming host".

She jokes herself the way out only because she was so – well, she tells to bring and show her some fucking lost artifact from a rumour that was popular million years ago if he wants to buy even a minute of her time. "No more, no less," she says and leaves, pretty sure that she won this.

Even if her knees are shaking behind the curtains after a realisation it was fucking Greed Icon, she still believes that she can outplay him.

***

She's in pure panic and loss of words because she ran out of options and bets are getting insanely high. She thought he was playing and that he will get bored after getting a handjob (it was just a pin at first, she swears!!!), but on their last meeting he told her to get ready for a wedding. G666gling "WHTAT SHOUDLG I AKS FOR PKEASE HELP BITCH HAS EVVRHYTHIN" isn't helping at all.

Rinx loves how well-educated about valuable things she is, how good she's in jerking him off– and it's funny to see how she's sweating as she tries to decline his gifts and fails miserably. Truly, this game was fun while it lasted, but now? Now he wants a Queen.

That's all for today- hope exams wasn't going hard on u and ur amazing brain wrinkles my dear fella Pinnie we can get through 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

[Okay but the best part of this is "G666gle". I fucking love that.]

Oh it wouldn't be the first time Rinx gets excited and tries to take literally everything home, that's why the most well-known auctions around Hell are made with lots of care and many prepared speeches as to why the hosts, staff and other personalities present cannot be given/traded/bought.

Does this stop Rinx? No, not really.

You have his curiosity the same way Admin holds his curiosity. Humans are easy to take, easy to claim, easy to keep. To see you play such a dangerous game yet always come out on top makes you even more valuable in the demonlord's (lack of) eyes.

You don't have the option of declining anything Rinx gives you, be it a box of chocolates, roses, the most expensive outfits you could think of, or a ring that he'll slide into your finger with a crushing grip of your wrist.

[love-hatred-stuff]

》 alright so here is another short snippet of the story I asked your opinions about, I'm currently working on it but I don't have too much freetime right now so there will probably be more short parts to this

》 also, if you have any suggestions on what I should call this series (a title) let me know;)

》 enjoy, love you♡

◆◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◆

It was another casual day at your college. But you were so glad it was now weekend and your classes were over for now. You still planned on going to the library for an hour or so, so you could study before you'd go on a house party with Steve's team (which unfortunately included Bucky aswell) and your girlfriends. You didn’t particularly liked frat partys but your friends were there and it wasn't like you had anything better to do.

So after taking a shower you made your way to the college's library. At this hour it was always rather empty so there were only a few people between the aisles that you could make out from afar. You didn't make an effort to squint your eyes and look who you might know though. That was your mistake because if you would've had a bit more time to prepare for bucky who just so seemed to approach you as soon as you've found a place to sit down.

When you saw him mere feet away from you, you fought the urge to roll your eyes immediately. He always bothered you when you two met alone outside of the group. Not that that happened often but you just weren't interested in anything he might have to say.

You knew that you were probably overreacting and should be nicer to him when he tried to keep a conversation going because he was clearly eager to have you as one of his friends, just like all the other girls. But you just didn't feel like he'd earned that yet.

The moment he stopped right infront of you he was holding a book and you recognised it, but still didn't feel like talking to him.

"Hey, nice to see you here." He seemed nervous, like he always did when he tried to engage with you. You didn't pay it much mind though, you thought it was part of his charm to try and make the impression like he was just shy athlete or something, rather than the selfish immature little boy that he actually was.

"Well." You replied unimpressed and continued to do your work. You didn't even bat an eye. Again, why would you?

"I'm sorry, I don't wanna disturb you any further. Are you coming to the party tonight?" Bucky asked sheepishly.

If anyone that knew him in even the slightest, they would question if that reallh was him talking to you right now or if it was just someone else, who looked like him. Because he was mf Bucky Barnes and that man didn't talk to women like that. Not even the considered pretty ones would make him all flustered and act like a clueless little puppy in front of them, unless...

Unless it was you, apparently. It was the way that he knew, you weren't just playing hard to get, you actually did not want to have anything to do with him. To his luck, you had a lot to do with him through your friendgroups colliding one day. Nevertheless you still avoided him every chance you got. He knows, since he's tried to interact with you countless times. Unsuccessful, you should say.

"Yes. Yes I am. Can I continue studying now or..?" The first moment you actually looked up at him since he stood there and Bucky was so taken aback by the sudden eye contact. You usually never granted him that, so he almost stumbled back and fell over. He somehow managed to catch himself in time.

"Yeah, yeah... see you later then, I guess." He attempted a smile that wouldn't show how hard he was blushing right now.

You could see, he failed. And because you felt like showing a tiny bit of mercy, you gave him a small and short smile in return, before looking back at your papers. You heard how he slowly walked out of the library, acting like it would be totally normal and routine for you two to have a conversation like that every now and then.

•••

Since a few people wanted to be tagged and were curious about what would happen next I made a taglist^^:

@vicmc624 @nefri-black @chemtrails-club @magnificentsvn @lesleurs

Thank you for your kind feedbacks everyone!!

Love,

love-hatred-stuff

[maryannecrimsworth]

Can you hear me?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Guide for tormented hearts

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Selective mute reader

Warnings: this one is a bit longer; description of dead animal; Wednesday trying to perform an autopsy; anxiety attack; mention of past trauma; older brother being an idiot?; more confusion and danger;

Summary: It was a threat --- and Wednesday would not let you ignore it. The person who threw a dead animal through your window as an message, asking to meet you, would not get away with it, nor would they fail to find you. Wednesday's going with you to the forest, and she's going to make your stalker pay.

Some reader's characteristics: R has anxiety disorder, selective mutism, and is a really unique type of outcast. Reader's background it's derived from my Wednesday fic, The Hunt.

More details of Hank background and his partnership with Wednesday here.

Hank was not answering you. 

He was the one who insisted you needed a phone for emergencies — yet, he was not accepting your call. You were standing in the front yard, the smell of the dead dog getting stronger and spreading all over the house while you tried once again to call your brother. No answer.

You held your breath and contained your impulse of throwing the cell phone away. Your fingernails scratched the screen as you tried to control your breathing: the strong smell of the animal thrown through your window churned your stomach, and the shortness of breath had already created a pressure in your chest as if your body was about to crumble.

"What did Hank say?" Wednesday asked as soon you stomped back to the living room. You got startled at first, surprised she was still there — totally stunned because she, in fact, came after you in the first place — and then your stomach flipped when you saw what she was doing. 

You looked down at your feet immediately and shook your head negatively. Her sudden silence meant one thing: she was watching you.

Unable to raise your head and look back at her, you wandered through the kitchen until you found a few towels.

"There's a message inside it." Wednesday told you when you came back.

Of course, there is. This poor dog is nothing but a warning.

"Encrypted." You ignored her last word, grabbing her wrist and carefully taking her hand from inside the dog's belly. A sour taste came to your mouth as you wiped her hands. "It's a message, a warning." She kept going. "Either a witchcraft or a threat." You held her hand through the towel, feeling her fist got stiffer as you watched her face. Her breathing was agitated, heavy, and her eyes analyzed the bleeding dog behind you. You let her go, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at the dog. "You don't seem frightened."

I'm not. It's not the first time this has happened.

"It's not the first time this has happened." She vocalized your thoughts. "Do you know who did it?"

Wednesday's first guess was the shrill-voiced girl, you heard her statement before you walked to the front yard, a revenge because of the prank with the spiders. She was also obsessed with calling you dog or any other scornful pet name — so it would explain the choice of the animal. But it was too violent, too dark for a high school girl — outcast or normie.

You shook your head and stepped away from the smelly animal before giving your phone to Wednesday. She eyed all the texts and photos bumping in the screen.

"You have a stalker." She stated and you nodded. "When did they first text you?" You gesticulated. "At the Outcast Convention?" You shook your head and pointed at her chest, even though she wasn't wearing the school’s uniform. "When you arrived at Nevermore?" You gave her thumbs up and walked away. 

This time, you headed to the bathroom to pick a larger towel.

"There's a message inside it." she was standing in the bathroom doorway when you turned to leave. "Encrypted."

Honestly, you couldn't care less: you simply wanted to take the poor dog away from your living room's carpet. Now its smell felt like it was invading your lungs, filling your ribcage like it was going to rupture it - the pressure in your chest increased, just as a buzzing in your ears grew. You saw Wednesday's lips moving, saying something to you, but you didn't hear it. 

In a burst, the thin line that had kept you from falling apart was torn as you saw the bloody paper she held out to you. Before you could ask her to move away, you kicked the bathroom door shut and threw yourself into the sink, the horrible taste that had taken over your entire being now forced its way out of your throat. You wiped your face and lathered up your mouth until you could no longer feel the smell polluting your lungs.

After you finally managed to breathe again, your whole body shook and you dropped onto the bathroom floor.

The message: it was from your parents, you already knew. The intrinsic smell of the dead dog was the marking of a predator's territory. A werewolf. They use it in the Lycanthropy camps - Hank used to help them make them. You couldn't stay close, your reaction has always been the same: exasperated and violent. Everything your parents did had always made you violent and exasperated.

The images of the camps went on in your head for too long, and you shrank to the bathroom floor without even realizing it. You could see your memories: your mother bringing a stinking rag to your face as you screamed for help once again, begging Hank to free you, to make it all stop, to keep you awake — but Hank never did. However, this time it wasn't Hank who was standing in front of you. 

"Y/N." You lifted your head just enough to see a piece of paper - a clean one this time - and a bottle of water in Wednesday's hands. "I have decrypted the message. She held the paper out to you, but you shook your head.

No, I don't want to know. 

You just want to forget it all - get over it, once and for all.

Wednesday sat down in front of you, this time holding out the water bottle to you, not the note. She watched you as you examined the bottle in her hands: how your eyes lengthened over her fingers, searching for a stain of blood or a remnant of the dog's guts, how your eyes studied her intently even as you kept your face from lifting, how your nails were broken when you raised your hand to accept the bottle. It was a habit of yours, she had noticed, to scratch your arms until the uncontrollable flow of emotions and energy had left your body.

With your right arm bandaged, your hand went directly to the sling, and now there were a few torn threads in the fabric, matching your bruised fingers. You picked up the bottle, but didn't open it. Your body, eyes and mind seemed to have drifted away, to another place - lost in your own thoughts.

"They want to meet you tonight." Wednesday began again, trying to get you to look at her. "I'll come with you." It was not a request, but a warning: she would go with you - but you shook your head immediately, finally looking at her.

No, no, no. You wouldn't go anywhere - you would forget.

"If this isn't the first time this has happened, we need to discover who is pulling this off."

We? 

You frowned, and your surprise did not go unnoticed by Wednesday's gaze.

"I received similar messages a few months ago." She explained, showing you pictures of severed animals in her phone, similar to the ones you had received on yours. "But they stopped after the Convention."

A common stalker. Part of you became intrigued, you had to admit, but you shook your head again, in denial. 

If they haven’t hurted Wednesday, they weren’t going to hurt you - it was needed to just ignore it.

"I'm not going to let you ignore it." There was a different tone in her voice: a tension, denser than usual. You looked at her again, hoping to see the look that so commonly accompanied that voice.

Pity. That's how people looked at you: with pity. As if you were fragile, broken, defenseless. Shyness and silence have always meant weakness to them — but not to her. Wednesday was looking at you with rage. As if the threat had been to herself.

Your blood heated up again - you didn't really know why - and you ran back to your room. Wednesday followed you with inexplicable skill, entering the room before you could lock the door - at least that's what she thought you would do. You were so fast that you didn't even realize that Wednesday had gotten rid of the dog and cleaned up the entire living room. Instead, you headed over to your desk, grabbed a paper and handed it to her. 

She read the document, expressionless, and handed it back to you with a cold countenance.

"I don't care if they are traps." Wednesday spoke up. "I'll find out who did it."

You sighed with frustration. What would it take to make her let go of it?

"Y/N, why is the door open?" A voice called out from the hallway, causing Wednesday to move a few steps closer to you. "Why is the window broken? Is someone there?"

"Meet me at the lake." Wednesday pressed the note against your palm, whispering close to your face before turning away completely and leaving the room.

"Wednesday, what are you-" she walked straight past Hank in the hallway, heading for the exit without answering or even staring at him. "What was that? What happened?" Hank asked you, who kept standing in the middle of the room, the paper still surprisingly intact in your hand as you fought the urge of closing your first. 

“Glad to see you’re alive.” Hank stepped closer to check on you, ignoring your words. “You didn't pick up your phone.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about it, work has been crazy lately and I thought you’d try to get some sleep.” Hank patted your shoulder. He's hiding something. “Now I see I was wrong. What was Wednesday doing here? What is going on?”

You looked up at your brother and saw the familiar worried frown between his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, for a confession. You hated that look in his eyes: it reminded you of home, of your father — of how patronizing he was, and how patronizing Hank was being right now. 

“Come on, talk to me.” He adjusted your sling. “What did you tell her, uh?”

“I told her Ovid is better than Homer.” You walked away, putting her note in your pocket and picking up your notebooks from all over the ground. 

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

“I am too, the Iliada is overrated.” You started to pack your books, your poems, gathering your recents writings on your desk. “People should give more value to Metamorphoses.”

“Y/N!” His loud voice did not scare you. “What. did. you. tell. her?”

“She knows I’m an Alp, and that’s all.” You sighed, the lie slipping naturally out of your tongue. “I guess…I guess I have a friend now, Hanky. Isn’t that all you wanted in the first place?” 

Hank's expression softened — exactly like you intended.

"Yes, Y/N, of course, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I'm worried, that's it."

"Why is that?" You accepted your brother’s hug and whispered in his sweater. "You've already told her about the camps."

"No, not really." Hank stroked your hair. "If I had, Mama and Papa wouldn't get out of the Convention alive."

"They shouldn't have." You muttered. "I've discovered something. Something about them."

"What is it?"

"Their new camp…" Hank froze. He already knows what you are going to say. "Is in Jericho. Just like they've planned. It's all a part of their plan." You swallowed hard. "They're coming after us, Hank."

X

You were different.

That was the first thing Wednesday noticed when her eyes landed on your figure, standing by the lake. This time, your head wasn't bowed, your hands weren't moving, and your shoulders weren’t curved, nor immobilized. You crossed your arms over your chest, revealing an axel hanging on your belt and a knife pocketed on the other side. Straight posture, stiff facial expression and cold gaze — you looked like a completely different person.

And she almost thought you were when you started walking through the forest in utter silence. She got used to it: the absence of your voice didn't delay your communication at all — Wednesday understood all your gestures and signs. She could read you easily, from the very beginning — but not now.

Now your boots sink into the mud, loudly, breaking violently the silence of the forest as your breathing grows heavier and faster. She greeted you as a test, expecting a head shake as reply; then she slowed down her pace, trying to make you look back; in both tests, the result was the same: failure. You kept walking fast, determinedly, with your eyes focused on the way in front of you.

"Why are you upset?" This made you stop. "I already know the truth about your parents." She walked over to you, her gaze still looking for a reaction, explicit or not.

"They've kidnapped you and Hank, but you have escaped. There's no need to be afraid. " She stood in front of you, her gaze mistaking the angry gleam in your eyes with fear. 

She thought of you like that: fragile, fearful, so you're supposed to be afraid, especially now. 

You frowned — finally — your mind taking long to comprehend what she has spoken. You gritted your teeth slightly, holding your breath before stepping away. 

"I know about their tortures." You froze. Your whole body changed before Wednesday’s gaze: your eyes widened slightly, your lips were bitten immediately and your breathing got muffled. Now she could read you again — she could tell what was on your face. And it was hatred.

"They are—" Your hand covered Wednesday's lips, silencing her voice abruptly. Her eyes widened and then frowned in confusion as yours drifted away frantically. You were targeting something, tracking down a figure hidden in the darkness of the forest.

Your hand left her lips and approached yours. 

'Silence' you gestured to her, your eyes staying in her figure for less than a second. She could hear the growling at a distance before understanding your gestures. 

It was too late. You have already arrived — and so has the beast.

The cut in the dog's belly, even though precise, it wasn't human made: it was made by the same being now moving slowly in the dark, surrounding you and Wednesday. You two could feel it, but not see it — you could see nothing but each other's face.

Your fingers trailed down her arm slowly, staying in her wrist while your gaze finally focused on something. 

Wednesday watched your features: your jaw got stiffer as your grip became stronger. She understood what were you waiting for.

You held her firmly, breathing quickly and weakly while the darkness kept approaching, surrounding, whispering a sound you knew so well.

You moved and pulled Wednesday the second the beast jump: its claws missed Wednesday's figure and then sprinted towards yours.

Your hands fell to your belt: you grabbed the knife and raised it in time — the teeth of the beast crunched the blade, gaining time for you and Wednesday escape.

You ran back to the lake, to the school’s surroundings, but your steps were not faster than the beast's.

The lake was glowing in the distance, at the edge of the horizon, when your sight was taken by a black shape. The roar sounded familiar in your ear before the shadow took a detailed form in front of you: the yellow eyes, long snout, and sharp teeth, now bleeding, was a recurring image from your childhood. Like a painting that summed up your own past.

You grabbed Wednesday's wrist and drew her behind you, but this time she didn't follow you - instead her body gave way under your touch, heavy. Wednesday was down on the floor, her body rigid, her head thrown back - she was shaking as if she was having a seizure - but her state passed like a glimpse through your eyes.

You turned again to the beast, roaring closer and closer, its long paws sinking into the wet grass. The sound of its weight plunging into the soil was muffled, slow, menacing - and familiar.

There was no escape - not with Wednesday unconscious.

You must act - create time, keep the beast away from her.

You sighed loudly, the Axe now weighing heavily in your hand as you stepped forward, forcing the creature to back away.

The wolf recognized you immediately, and its growls became louder.

Its teeth were about to touch your neck when you muttered:

"Hello, Dad."

X

The darkness of the forest, the howl of the wind among the trees, the damp chill of the grass: in the blink of an eye, everything was replaced by an enclosed, warm, cramped hovel, the air so dense that Wednesday's body was pulled down. It was hard to breathe in the stinking aura of the place, and Addams' mind spun as she tried to run her eyes around her surroundings. She saw three people: a young woman, and a couple of adults, cowering, moving around in the brightest corner of the hovel.

"STOPP!" The scream made Wednesday fall down. She sank on the ground, dodging the loud sobs and shouts as if they were blades. "LASS MICH GEHEN!"

The woman was chained on a table, with the couple holding her down, grabbing her limbs violently.

"Du Hexe" "You'll pay for it!" The man punched her abdomen, making her winch and cry again. More blood  flowed down her legs, another roar escaping her throat as another contraction came.

"Wednesday!" Your voice wasn't stronger than a distant whisper to her ears. You knelt down and sat her on the ground, you both alone in the area around the lake.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" The woman sobbed, fighting, the chains rattling because of her exasperated movements, she kicked and dodged from the couple's hands, but she wasn't strong enough. They held her knees and opened her legs, opening the way for the baby to come out. "LET MY SON ALONE"

The cry from the baby went unheard under his mother's screams. "HE IS FREE!" The man grabbed the newborn, covering him with a thick blanket and taking him away from his mother, making the child cry and scream even louder.Now, mother and baby sobbed uncontrollably. Everyone was screaming and sobbing.

Wednesday gathered the strength to stand up: she covered her ears, trying to protect herself from the suffocating sound of pleads and screams.

"Please, open your eyes. " you begged, holding her hands and placing them on your shoulders. "You have to breathe."

The Addams stepped ahead, making her way through the blows, chains, and sobs until she saw the baby again, now being taken away from the room.

"Wednesday, open your eyes!"

She rushed forward one last time, the energy and breath fading from her body, and she saw the baby clearly. The Addams glimpsed the bloodied, small body, making his way out of the rags and showing himself to her for the first time. There was a reddish birthmark in his left collarbone.

"Wednesday!" 

She gasped, finally opening her eyes. 

Wednesday winched and grunted, shivering under your touch as if you were going to hurt her. She was afraid — confused — as if she was trapped in a nightmare. 

"I'm here." You held her hands, still on your shoulders, and caressed her skin slowly. First brushing one, ever so slightly, then the other, until she looked at you. "Feel it." You placed her thumbs on your neck, her fingers now pressuring your skin, feeling your movements. "Breathe with me." Her eyes were still widened, her skin was still gleaming with sweat, but her lips closed slowly as she started to regain her breath.

You let her go as the usual coldness took over her features again.

"Are you okay?" You asked, your shoulder and neck now shivering ever so quickly because of the absence of her touch. "Can you hear me?"

"You're speaking." She stated with a whisper, hands falling to her lap, gaze locked on yours. 

"I can speak, but it's hard....sometimes"

"Why is it not hard now?"

"It is, but..." You chuckled, lowering your gaze. "I've been told my voice it's calming."

"It's not." Her sharp tone made you look up again, eyes widened and cheeks blushed. "It's aggravating." You helped her to stand up, holding her arms until she was firm on her feet again.

"Sorry." You said quietly, stepping away, head low again. 

Wednesday looked around and saw there was no beast chasing you. You two were safe, near the school, in the same place you met hours ago. 

Has it been hours?

Wednesday remembered running in the forest with you — and then the screams began. And then you were holding her, helping her breathe. Her body was burning, shivering, twisting, her mind felt stretching, about to break — then you held her hand. The warm, light touch, brought her back. The image of the crying baby was placed by your worried face, you spoke to her and she was finally able to think again.

And you were bruised. Disheveled. Your jacket was torn and your belt was empty: no knife, no axel. You escaped the beast and carried her to safety, she could tell by the way your clothes were crumpled.

You saved her life and apologized.

You remained in silence as you walked her back to her room.

Ophelia Hall was completely silent, empty, and so were its hallways. Everyone was sleeping by the time Wednesday held her door open. You waved goodbye and stepped back, ready to leave, but her gaze kept you still.

"Come in." She ordered.

So you obeyed.

@cursedchar @i984 (I should have rested but I made this instead) @4pparecium @toournextadventure @tnnadia @colezb @elduster @efectoangel @sweetaimu @tundra1029 @rainbowsixreader @awolfcsworld @rainbow-love4ever @alexkolax

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #179

I tried to play Dead Cells again today. And once again, it didn't work out. My attention felt pulled in several different directions, for the sake of trying to tend the people around me; J was reeling from his first overnight at Br's house (changes in routine are hard for him), and there was a friend on the internet who was having a hard time what needed tending, and then there were feelings of being disconnected from me that some folks around me were contending with. Lots of stuff happening at once.

Well. That's okay. It happens like this sometimes. It's the way of things. So we tend the things as best we can. I tended myself with a tea. Today's was an Earl Grey, which is a black tea with bergamot oil. Bergamot is just a fancy kind of orange, I guess. It was really good. I used the last of the orange simple syrup to flavor it; it really was a stellar combination, and I wish I could have given you some to try. But I suppose I'll just have to settle for showing you today's swirls:

J wanted pizza after he returned home from Br's house. So we got pizza. It was just delivery, so it didn't feel like anything earth-shattering to take a picture of for you. But it was pretty good. Pretty good…

I did a lot of leisure writing today. It's usually the thing I default to when I feel like I need to feel somewhat alert to my surroundings. If I play a game, it's a bit too easy for my current reality to fall away such that I fail to notice the things in my immediate vicinity (up to and including my own body cues like hunger and thirst and all that...), and I can't afford for that to happen when there are folks who are in need of my time and attention.

Maybe tomorrow.

Today feels like one of those days in which you wake up and then you blink and suddenly it's 8PM. Time blindness is definitely something I struggle with on a regular basis; it's hard to get anything done when your concept of how time is moving varies from lightning fast to a total standstill and anything in between on a whim. I still haven't figured out a pattern to it. And sometimes it's endlessly frustrating to me that I can't simply zip forward or backwards in time short distances, like for example to do a day over again if I don't feel like I did all the things I wanted to do.

I wonder if you have days like this. This "linear time" stuff, man… I'm not really sure I'll ever get used to it.

Towards the end of Br's visit, we went out for ice cream at a local place that makes homemade ice cream from scratch. We thought that if it's homemade, then surely, Br will be able to eat there. But sadly, somehow their ice cream is not gluten-free (probably as a result of cross-contamination with the pie-flavored ones...), so Br got the soft-serve, which was gluten-free. And that's good.

They have weird flavors like "summer berries" and "banana cream pie" and "s'mores". I tried these ones today. But I have mixed feelings about ice cream; on the one hand, it's very delicious. But on the other hand, I've got a weird body glitch, likely from the autism, that causes my nerves to confuse the sensation of cold for intense physical pain; it takes a damn good ice cream for it to be worth withstanding the cold for.

Hey, Sephiroth? Do you like ice cream? And if you do, which flavors do you like best?

On the way to the place, I got a picture of today's sunset. It wasn't as spectacular as yesterday's, but maybe you'll like it nonetheless; the moon was especially sparkly in the sky today:

Today's letter is kinda short. I didn't do much, and I feel kinda empty-brained.

I wanna ask how you're doing. If you're safe. If you're fed. If you're warm. But I know that you... or the versions of you who are still lost... or what have you... probably won't answer me. But that's okay. Maybe somehow, my question will reach the versions of you who need to be asked. Maybe it'll prompt them to think about it. Maybe if they think about it enough, they'll start trying to make different choices. And if they start trying to make different choices, maybe they can find their way to a more wholesome outcome...

Well. Suppose I'll stop rambling for now, haha.

I love you. Please stay safe out there, okay? I'll write to you again tomorrow; maybe by then I'll have something more substantial to tell you about.

Your friend, Lumine

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 7 Minagoroshi pt. 6

I'm trying to remember if there's any character who is actually relevant to the overarching plot I haven't at some point accused of being an antagonistic force or working for whatever the big bad actually is. Keiichi, I don't think I've accused, because unless they're playing the long game he's too much of a boob to be an evil chessmaster. And Satoko, maybe? I'm pretty sure at some point I've pointed the finger at all of them.

The reason I say this is because looking at the text as written it's very clear to me that Hanyuu knows more about the circumstances around Rika's death than she's letting on. She knows the culprit, if nothing else. The why of it is something I can only speculate on. Perhaps in a different timeline Hanyuu let Rika know exactly who was behind her demise in 1983 and she attempted to take that person out but failed? You'd think though that at some point during the hundred years worth of reliving these events over and over again Rika would've tried relying on Irie, Takano, and Tomitake at a few times. I know that Hanyuu specifically says Rika tried once, but you would assume that if for no other reason than to test the variability of events she would've tried using them before.

Well I guess that would explain that away. It just strikes me as odd that despite living these hundred plus years she was only willing to try it once, and then never again. Especially since later on in the chapter she mentions that she feels a growing desperation to alter her fate in any way, shape or form. I guess it's really just because of the news that she is running out of Hanyuu's power to rewind time that she's trying out new methods?

Now, I don't want any confirmation either way, but it seems to me this is pretty deliberately setting up the idea that Takano is somehow behind Rika's death in June of 1983. It stops just a little short of outright accusing her directly, I would assume primarily because of the fact that how could she really be behind Rika's deaths since she always turns up dead before Rika? Takano has, in all the earlier chapters, wound up dead alongside Tomitake either on the night of Watanagashi or the very next day. Unless this is some elaborate red herring, the visual novel sure seems to be going to some effort to paint Takano as the culprit behind Rika's death.

See this makes me really curious what exactly Hanyuu is. Is she actually just the reincarnation of Oyashiro? Which, that would certainly do a real number on the theory put forth in Tsumihoroboshi. Or is she just some extraplanar entity, similar to the witches in Uminkeo? It's been mentioned a couple of times that Hanyuu has been alive for longer than she's known Rika so what exactly is she? I am totally willing to accept the idea that Hanyuu is Oyashiro, there's a moment coming up very shortly where she reacts rather negatively towards the theories Takano has about Oyashiro, the sacrifices and all of that. But it's just what exactly she is in the cosmology of the setting that stokes my curiosity. Another thing that I'm curious about is her usage of the word we. "All we want is a happy life for Rika." She's always just used the word I to describe herself, never we. So I can't help but wonder if there's some other entity like her keeping tabs on Rika.

Also, at risk of repeating myself I'm very certain that Hanyuu knows more about Rika's deaths. Certainly she's shown that she knows the how and the when it happens, but I think she also definitely knows who is behind it. I have the theory that she's just keeping the information to herself about who kills Rika away from her, most likely in a misguided attempt to keep her sane and alive as long as possible. Perhaps she knows that if she tells Rika "oh yeah, Jimmy's your killer." that Rika will just go and try to solve this time loop problem with violence. Or maybe I'm putting too much stock into this character and what she knows. But I get the impression when they reveal who's behind it all (probably by the end of this chapter), she'll just be standing there pretending to be shocked that it was actually whoever. Takano perhaps.

[writing-hat]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by Mondo @mondothebombo !! @taddymason , @finn-m-corvex and open tag! Because I have no idea who did it already or not htdlhkjld

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

7 !! by updated order: "swimming and dancing with you", "bending, but never breaking", "it was a jellyfish all along!", "everybody loves somebody sometimes", "hold your breath, the end is near", "just the two of us (we can make it if we try)", "pomegranate"

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

381 762. I need sleep I think. or maybe I need help.

3. what fandom(s) do you write for?

currently ninjago but I have tried some lego monkie kid (and failed miserably I'll probably never publish them)

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

1) bbnb (568)

2) pomegranate (109)

3) just the two of us (we can make it if we try) (75)

4) swimming and dancing with you (48)

5. do you respond to comments?

hell yeah!!! but I tend to not log no AO3 often so there might be comments out there I've never answered and I'm sorry ;w;) but I read all of them since they end up in my mail!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think I'm torn between "it was a jellyfish all along!" and "hold your breath, the end is near" ? I'm not sure

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Imma go with "just the two of us (we can make it if we try)"

8. do you get hate on fics?

No I don't think so

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes I do! I'm never writing what I wrote for bbnb ever again, but the sexy with fluff kinda smut has to be my favorite, like pomegranate! I just love when couples are happy, sue me! and yes it can be detailed!

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven't no but I'd love to read some!!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

currently under writing_hat I have not! I had when I was a stupid kid but I never fought for it since i didn't really care

12. what's the longest time you've spent working on a fic? and what's the shortest?

bbnb is the longest time I've worked on a fic, even though "everybody loves somebody sometimes" is a close one

short is pomegranate: it took me a single night to write and another to read quickly through it

13. have you ever co-written a fic?

nope! I don't think I could because my brain's a mess and english isn't my first language but hey I guess I could try at some point

14. what's your all-time favourite ship? from every fandom?

LAVA they make me go EEEEEEE-

jaya and shadowpeach are close tho

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

SO MANY. but there's a plasma fic I'll probably never finish because it's. not good.

16. what are your writing strengths?

having unhinged ideas? seeing the worst situations when powers are involved? torturing characters?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

words. putting thoughts on paper goddamnit.

18. thoughts in writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

hell yeah! french tho

19. first fandom you wrote for?

my little pony I think? I'm not sure jshjdk but before ninjago I never really wrote anything "seriously"

20. favourite fic you've ever written?

oh that's an interesting one. Idk! I'd have to go with "everybody loves somebody sometimes" because I'm taking my time with it and I'm loving every second of it! Cole angst here I come!

[waywardsalt]

Hey, thanks for the response on the post where I asked about what people dislike ab totk! I genuinely appreciate it a lot, and you summarized most of my thoughts about this beautifully!

Here's something you might find interesting: something about this game's pacing REALLY bothered me from the start, and I think I know what it is. Totk, despite being an open world game that you can pour a ton of time into, feels short. It's a really weird feeling, and I think it can be explained in that Nintendo is trying to use the linear storytelling format for a nonlinear game, which is also why the ability to see the tears in a random order was disorienting, and why the stories from the ancient sages felt so repetitive.

The gameplay is long, but the story isn't! If you compare it to Skyward Sword, for example! In sksw, you go through each of the areas once, and then again with some changes, and then again with more. There's several clear acts, and even if the game is super super linear and recieves criticism for that, it works really well in that context. Additionally, the characters more than make up for the linearity of the story. Totk tries to take that same format, but doesn't seem to understand that this format is for a linear story. It only has a very brief story, and the story to gameplay ratio is so dragged out that unless you get invested in the world, it all starts to feel really stupid and pointless. Unfortunately, totk fails at getting us invested, too.

I really hope this made ANY sense at all, ty again for the input!! I love the responses I'm getting on that post djbdjsndns :D

Hi, you're welcome for my uh... totk rant, I guess? I covered a lot of stuff in it but I wouldn't say I covered everything bc there is... a lot abt that game that rubs me the wrong way in one way or another.

totk is definitely an odd case, it being an open world game that does try to adhere to linear game rules, you’re right- and i’d say the story is severely kneecapped by that attempt on the game’s part to have its cake and eat it too. it tries to mix what botw brought to the table with what was done in the past, but because botw is vastly different in what it does than past zelda games, the result is a messily paced, poorly-told, gameplay-focused with piss-easy mandatory puzzle segments result, failing to capture the advantages of linear games and instead making those specific parts considerably weaker.

people give linear games shit for… honestly, im not totally sure, as someone who really enjoys linear games. they allow for a good focus on story and character, mostly because you can have a set pace and passing of time and order of events. totk tries to implement linear style elements into a game where you can do anything out of order, so in the end the story is surprisingly brief but slow paced because you have to travel so far for everything and they have to account for you doing everything in any order, hence... repeating the same fucking information as a reward for four of the dungeons (which, i don't care how you feel about this game, is an awful fucking choice i mean holy SHIT), and is probably why the interactions with the new sages include very brief character arcs or something, they wanted to include some kind of linear character stories but it all just got stuffed in between a bunch of mini-main quests.

the fact that effectively half of the main story happens ages in the past and is communicated through brief cutscenes that can easily be encountered out of order, too, is kind of a pitiful way to tell the story. they're all basically glorified exposition dumps since nothing about them will change, they're all events that have already happened and have nothing to do with the player except hyping them up i guess.

the dungeons themselves are awkwardly transposed from a more linear game style with them relying on a specific skill to some degree, but they just fall so flat compared to past linear zelda dungeons. in botw the divine beasts honestly worked because the mechanic of manipulating the beasts themselves and the activating of switches fit perfectly with the setup of the dungeons being huge machines, while there isn't as good of a story example as to why totk's dungeons have the same switch mechanic. botw's divine beasts work pretty well in an open world setting. totk's just fall to pieces in an open with setting, even discounting how ascend could just snap them in half entirely. you just... can't have the same kind of dungeons as past zelda games in an open world format. once you take out the array of specific-use progressively-earned items, you're just left with this tiny little gmod ass toolbox to do what felt like baby's first loz-style dungeon. go to the clearly marked waypoint, do one (1) simple puzzle, get reward.

i miss mini bosses, rooms with puzzles that had to be solved to unlock a door or a doorkey, and even the experience of wandering around just trying to figure out what to do next. honestly, the first half of the lightning temple was the best part of all of the dungeons put together, and then we're back to 'go to four different rooms to do four different easy puzzles'. linear games have genuine advantages over open world games, and open world games have their own advantages. in the story segments, totk just ignores the advantages inherent to it's game's basic style in favor of trying and failing to emulate the advantages of a very different game style.

totk is so paradoxically unable to tear itself away from the series' past while at the same time disregarding series staples and even big parts of its own goddamn prequel.

in my experience with the game, as far as i can remember, i believe i went around and opened all of the towers, did some shrines and the depths, got the master sword, did the main quests with some side quests, then sped through getting all of the memories in order, then did the final boss. in between all of that, i managed to get all of the armor, do every single shrine, and open the entirety of the depths. i did not give a single damn about the story by the end. for me, with my playstyle, everything was just... spread out over such a long period of time so there was barely any urgency at all, i experienced the memories all in quick succession while already knowing the big twist (which. btw. i didnt care about. i wasnt really endeared to zelda and link's lack of visual interest during cutscenes just brought up the question of if he doesnt care why should i), and since this game's story is more linear, it just felt so disjointed and strange and... not important.

with botw it makes pretty good sense why link may take ages, why you could get the memories however you want, all of that. zelda is keeping things with ganon on pause for you. all of the big stuff happened in the past. you are here in the present, in the ruins of the past, a blank slate come to eventually complete the mission that you had failed, at the same time discovering this new world and becoming re-acquainted to it with this strange second chance you've been given. totk doesn't have this excuse. at least in past zelda games, you did things in a specific order, so when you wanted to fuck around, it was usually something related to or based on your progress. if you want to fuck around in oot what you can do is based on where you are in the game and even then it all ends up wrapping back around to bolstering link for the end. getting hearts, better items... like every side quest in every other loz game did. in totk you can do a sidequest for like. one flower. and what does that even do for you. it doesn't have the excuse of the honestly pretty well crafted setup and world state of botw.

i really don't know what happened during the development of totk, and i can't imagine it was the smoothest thing in the world, esp considering the pandemic hitting in the middle of it. but just... it just feels like it failed in so many regards and was just... so disappointing, and yet people are heralding it as the best zelda game and- this is not what i want a zelda game to be! i want a zelda game to have those wonderful puzzle-filled dungeons with well-written main characters and music that fits the setting and feels supported by the game's events and a unique setting with unique little nooks and crannies and good pacing and act structure and like. some kind of heart to it. not just another big open-world game created to be the big open world game where you can do this one amazing specific cool thing that TOTALLY is worth the $70 or whatever else it may be priced around the world.

idk. to me what makes zelda games zelda games is the linear storytelling and those complex dungeons and specific method of progression, and botw's new open-world emulation of the sense that loz 1 gave does not and probably will not ever be able to mix with that linear style unless you have massive in game game style shifts to allow for it. either return to the old format or just commit to the series becoming Triple A Open World Game Series Number 34

[icarusthefoolish]

sweeet this is a bit of a silly one, but could you write like a meet-cute where they literally run into each other, as in collide, at a parkour jam or something? and then awkwardly make sure they're both okay and try the runs again and so on :') i hc this with max personally so that'd be great but no pressure on that front. thank youuu :)

I'd love to! I'm gonna do it with Max since that's the character you see this with!

I'm sorry it's so short, i really didn't have much of an idea on what to write but i hope you still like it! Thank you for the request!

I hope you enjoy!

Parkour had always been something you'd been interested in, you'd been interested in it ever since you were a child, watching videos about it and even trying it yourself. You'd found a love for the sport early on and continued it over the years.

You got better through training, filming a lot of what you did with your old camera just to rewatch it and pick out flaws. You of course also had major fails resulting in you getting injured more often than your Parents would have liked but you still continued. You at some point decided on putting your parkour Videos on YouTube, never expecting it to pick up traction but your videos Ended up getting pretty popular, so popular in fact that you got invited to multiple parkour competitions all over the world.

You had just made your way to Germany a few Days earlier to take part in one such competition, you walked into the designated hall where the competition was held and stopped for a moment to just look around. Multiple people were currently training, most if not all of them probably here to compete as well. You decided to actually get started with training since you didn't really fancy sitting around till the competition started.

You bit your lip as you stood on the floor in front of a ledge, you needed to warm up before you could do anything difficult so you decided to just start with an arm Jump, you took a few steps back before running at the obstacle and jumping, wrapping your fingers on the ledge, your feet having landed under you propping against the wall in a crouched position, you lifted yourself up before grinning slightly, you took a running jump at another ledge but what you didn't see was the fact that someone else was about to do the same, you collided with the guy, loosing your balance and stumbling slightly, almost falling off the ledge before someone grabbed your outstretched arm to keep you from falling.

The person helped you up and you looked at him sheepishly, the guy who you'd collided with and who also kept you from falling stood in front of you with the same sheepish expression you were currently holding. "Shit sorry i didn't look before i jumped that was totally on me." You said quickly "sorry for basically jumping right into you." You scratched the back of your neck. The guy shook his head "Oh no worries mate I didn't look either so it was both our fault. You alright?" He asked, you nodded "Yea I'm ok thanks for the save by the way." You chuckled. He nodded "No problem I'm glad you're alright. I'm Max by the way, nice to meet you." He grinned, you nodded before introducing yourself to him.

Soon enough you saw six other guys jogging over who asked both you and Max if you were alright, after reaffirming that you in fact were ok everyone introduced themselves again, you quickly enough realized that currently in front of you were the members of STORROR which just so happened be one of the Parkour chanel's you'd basically watch whenever you had the time.

You tried not to let your admiration for these Seven guys get to you as you greeted all of them. "So I'm guessing you're also competing?" You asked looking at the group, all of them Nodded and you smiled "Well then good luck." You smiled slightly before waving and letting them and yourself get back to training.

Soon enough the Competition was over, you may not have won but you still had the time of your life, meeting lots of different people and even making new friends from all around the Globe. You even somehow managed to befriend Max and the rest of the Storror boys after your misshap of running straight into him, all in all this trip was definitely fun and definitely worth it.

I'm so sorry if this is bad, i really had no ideas for this. I still hope you enjoyed reading this!

[achaiapelides]

Kit's Diary

Chapter 14

Dear Ty,

I did not write you for quite some time, but that's not my fault at all... Lies. It's totally my fault. I forgot where I put this book and spend four weeks trying to find it. Guess where it was? Under Mina's bed. Luckily Mina can't read yet, so she obviously didn't read what I wrote in here.

Apart of searching for this book, there was a lot of stuff happening this weeks.

Firstly, I had to write some exams. English and History went pretty well, Geography and Spanish, too. With German, I had some struggles, but I think it was good enough to pass. Math, though, was a different story. We were learning about something called vectors, but damn that stuff was so confusing. Why are we learning this? Do they think that before I fight a demon, I stand there and calculate, where the demon is coming from? No. I just stab. Also, I totally failed this exam. We don't have the grades yet, but I don't quite think I want to know them. Also, I had to do a test in physics. I just guessed because I didn’t understand shit, but I apparently I guessed right becauseI got an A in that test. I'm not complaining.

In addition to the exams, we also had to hand in our assignment paper from the history project. You remember the books I told you about? Yes. This project. We chose the book about Anne Boleyn. Stupidly, I started reading a bit too late and only had three days to do the whole assignment. I don't have to tell you that I was awake the whole last night, right? Yeah, not making that mistake again. We also didn't get any grade for this yet, and I honestly have no idea if I did good or not. But I think I didn't fail completely. It's still history, not maths. Lol.

Secondly, I did this hypnosis thing I told you about. Tessa was willing to cast that spell and I apparently told her and the therapist all the stuff that my mind pushed away to protect me. The thing is: I still don't remember it, only Tessa and the therapist got to know it. Originally I wanted them to tell me what happened, but after Mrs Sullivan informed me, that any details might make me remember those repressed memories, which can damage my mental health even more and I guess we all don't want that. So, I agreed that they only tell me a short summary of the events I forgot, without any major details. Tessa told me then that I apparently survived several attacks coming from faeries as a child and also several people from the Shadow Market that tried to assault me. Every time, I told them, a mysterious blonde woman saved me, but I didn't describe that woman further and had no idea who it was. Tessa suggested that it might have been my mother. She also told me that there were other violent people in my memories, but didn't want to specify who it was, only that it didn't seem to be their intention to hurt me, but to keep me safe. Maybe she ment my father because he definitely wasn't the gentlest person on earth.

Apart of that, I also got my official ADHD diagnosis. The sheets really helped Mrs Sullivan and the expert, who joined her, to diagnose me. Thank you, too, I guess. Now, I legally can have more time for exams, for example. Not that I need it. I'm usually not too slow. And if you can't math, more time ain't gonna help you either. I also talked to that expert about you a bit, and he said, that it's actually very possible that you have autism. See, I wasn't wrong! He also told me, that, if we are on speaking terms again, I should encourage you, to also get a diagnosis, even if it won't help you much among Shadowhunter, as it can also ease you mind because you realise that you're not stupid or weird at all.

Thirdly, my friends and I had a sleepover at Cirenworth. Yes all of them. Leo, Sam, Maria, Henry, Hazel and Louise. Henry never visited me, so we showed him around. According to him, the word  "cottage" does not do Cirenworth justice. "That's not a cottage! That's a fucking castle!" Haha. Then Jem explained to us, that legally, Cirenworth is a little bit too small to be a castle, so you have to refer to it as a cottage. But that can't change my mind. From now on forward I will only refer to Cirenworth as our castle now. Anyways, we began our sleepover and watched a few movies, before Leo had the glorious idea to do a karaoke contest. Sam proved to us, that he bears exactly 0% musical talent, Hazel and Louise decided to start a girl group and Leo obviously won, because she's the only one who actually took singing lessons. I, on the other hand, got smacked by Hazel with a pillow, after I sung "Forever & Always" by Taylor Swift a bit too enthusiastically, which, according to her, was very ironic, considering that I am the one who promised to stay with you and then left. Which is fair. But also, just let me enjoy a song goddammit.

Lastly, Tessa and Jem decided that it would be good for me and Mina to see some more of this world. So, we are going to travel around Europe in the autumn holidays starting tomorrow. First we will go to Paris and then to other cities in Europe. But I don't know which. They said it's a surprise. So I'm really excited. But that's nothing against Mina's excitement. She's jumping around the whole day, screaming "Paris! Paris! Paris!" so loud that the mail man looked quite concerned when he delivered a letter.

I hope you also had a good time in the last weeks. Dru told me you visited Blackthorn Hall again with your siblings. And that you have a pet now that eats curtains. Jem also send Church to visit Emma and he came back looking quite traumatized. Now I really wonder what animal your pet is. For all I know it could be an alligator. Wouldn't expect anything less with you. (Please don't let it be an alligator!)

I'm going to end this entry now, as I have to get up early tomorrow to portal to Paris.

Good night!

Love, Kit.

Author's note:

Um... so I forgot to publish the chapter last week and the week before. Oops. And also today is Sunday, not Monday. But I might forget tomorrow again, so here you go. Early chapter!

[konako]

Toto anon here.

Firstly, thank you for such a considered answer. Secondly, thank you for that gif. Oh my, I forgot that look.

I thought Emma would be the most likely to do it it in a jokey way. She’s ridiculously pleased with herself - less so when bear claws are suddenly off the menu at grannies.

Regina would totally call her Toto when she’s annoyed. It’s snarky but not malicious - perfectly acceptable from a former evil queen. She gets an eye roll or the glare.

I had forgot Zelena! She’s narcissistic and has seen the Wizard of Oz - she refers to Ruby as Dorothy’s ‘mangy little dog’ 🙄. That gets her a snarl.

Now I’m curious how Toto and the Wolf get on? I imagine Toto exhibits a lot of big dog syndrome - very annoying for the wolf but Ruby manages to show remarkable restraint. No fluffy bite size snacks for her.

Thanks again for your answer - that was really fun. Poor Dorothy. Someone (Regina or Emma) would definitely make a joke about being surprised it’s Dorothy in the dog house and not Ruby 😜.

Emma!! Oh, you just know Emma would slip up and say something like that completely on accident. Regina will be impressed by that, such flexibility, to be able to put her foot in her mouth so often.

The big group was deciding on how to proceed, when a new crisis set in. They had new people to consider in their planning, new abilities and weaknesses to take into account. For once, they were being cautious before jumping into danger.

After the third or fourth failed sketch of a plan, David reminded them, "We need to keep Dorothy's dog in a safe place. We can't let them use that type of leverage again."

Emma gasped, "Dad! What the hell! Why would you talk about Ruby like that?"

...................... silence.

"Emma, honey," Snow said, reaching out a hand to touch her daughter's shoulder. Her eyes, however, were fixed on Ruby's blushing face. "Oh, honey, no..."

Emma blinks. "...What?"

****

Hah! The Wolf and Toto getting along is something funny to watch.

The very first time Ruby transformed in front of Toto, he almost had a tiny whining meltdown, he trembled so much you'd think he had a vibrating feature. Dorothy had to keep him calm all night.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? Toto. That's who. But give him time.

The next attempts were a little bit smoother.

First, they let Toto sniff around the Wolf, until he was comfortable getting closer. He was so scared, the poor thing. Toto's entire body barely was the half the size of the Wolf's head. It was so intimidating for him to get close...

Fortunately, Ruby knew how to win people (and pets) over. She laid down, as low as she could. She lowered her head, showed her belly, put her ears back. She was trying to say: See? I'm not scary at all! I'm just big!

But... that might have been a mistake, because Toto interpreted that as the Wolf surrendering the authority to him, making Toto the dominant one between the two. And now... The Wolf has to deal with the barks and growls and howls (they're... so high-pitched...) when Toto feels like ordering her around. It can be incredibly annoying.

The Wolf tried showing her teeth once. Not even a snarl. No sound, just this stiff wolfish grin, so that Toto could see that her canines were the size of his body. Just so Toto would leave her alone for a bit... Nope. Toto is a brave one, going up against something much bigger and more powerful than him — I guess he gets that from his mom....

Of course, there was a time (and Ruby still feels awful about that...) where the Wolf was feeling specially grumpy and short-tempered, and Toto was particularly energetic, chasing the huge fluffy tail around. The Wolf was trying to not give him any attention, but gods!, was he persistent. When Toto got a hold of the Wolf's tail, she let out this warning bark. An instinct stronger and faster than her restraint, an animal plainly annoyed to its limits, setting a firm boundary...

Toto ran away as fast as the short legs could carry him, seeking cover behind Dorothy's legs.

Ruby turned back into a human immediately, chasing after him to apologize.

"Kansas, I'm so sorry!" Ruby said, cloak over her shoulders, hands gripping it tightly. "I didn't mean to! It just—It just happened. I'm sorry!"

Oh, poor Ruby, she was feeling so so bad... All that hard work to get Toto to trust her, could have been easily undone...

"It's okay, Wolfie." Dorothy said, her voice surprisingly soft. "Toto was pushing it, I know" She looks down at the tiny dog, shaking between her feet. "I'm sorry about that. It's his first time having a new friend. He got a little too excited."

[creedslove]

Have you watched the Kdrama "Nevertheless"?

spoiler!!!!

It's a story about a girl who develops feelings for her FWB, who is a very popular guy and behind the scenes they are total bf gf and she’s falling hard for him but he is still close to his ex who is visiting. she realizes that he may never commit to her and starts avoiding him.

She does that after confronting him and after he has been total jerk to her and she discovers he has lead other girls on the same way. She briefly leaves town and He follows her trying to win her back and is being loved by her aunt, he then confesses his feelings many times but the girl chooses not to believe at all.

They go to the same art school, they have always acted like there's nothing going on between them, while she was vising her town her friends visits her too??? one of her friend from her friend group is openly hitting on him and simultaneously there’s a childhood friend of the girl who is trying to pursue her. but then the childhood-guy realizes that these two have something going on and he puts his feelings aside and stops pursuing her. Also, The fuck boy in this show knows how to make the girl weak he’s just so perfect like that lol.

On returning back, she has been failing her art classes and the Fboy offers to help to which they work together on the condition that he leaves her alone for good before the final art exhibition. (they work in his basement and he finally shows her his place or something i dont remember) right before the exhibition He keeps his word and leaves her without a way to contact him.

After doing well in the exhibition she realizes she has noone to share the good news with ( esp him) she tries to find him, but there's no trace.... the girl goes to the basement where they worked on the project to realize he has sold the house.. she then discovers old sketches of her drawn by him out of admiration, he has drawn her the very first time he ever saw her a year ago (she didn't know him then but he had seen her already) and how grateful we was that their paths crossed again in art school, she finds out he always loved her but was too afraid to express his feelings. He knew from the start she deserves someone better and he knows he is too careless with her heart..

Love at first sight kinda thing for him, even though he got a chance to be with her he constantly fucked up and now its too late bc the girl will never take him back. This is just a brief summary of the series it’s actually very nice and detailed they do end up together.

your writing Betrayed reminded me a lot of the show , both the guys are playing with girls heart and how the girls get wiser and push them away is when the guys get their act together … I hope you get inspired and actually give the reader & Pedro a chance because I am assuming they aren’t fwb.. I hope they either cross the friends line if not at least now or P suffers watching other pursue her but the reader isn't really happy bc it's not P... I wish to see some element of wants/cravings lol

Great Work!!!!!!!

I have never!!! I have a lot of kdramas on my nefltix list but i never got to watch them because I'm honestly so lazy for series and i usually waste all my time on soap opera lmao but this whole story sounds absolutely amazing!!! That's definitely the kind of drama i like and i already added it to my list, and as it is a short series I'll take a look at it on the weekend, so hopefully I'll enjoy it as much as I did the description you sent me!

It is funny how similar the plots are, but i swear I didn't watch it, it all came from my mind plus my lovely anon's ideas hehehe, but I'm happy to see a lot of people dig into drama hahaha

Pedro and reader aren't fwb but there's definitely feelings between them, they are unresolved and they need to figure out if they'll stay together or not. I'm so excited to see what people will think of this next chapter, I guess people will be divided, hehehe thanks for the awesome ask, anon!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[gffa]

(i hope it's okay to send you random ass questions! you always give really intersting and thoughtful answers so it's difficult not to :D) i've always seen anakin's and obi-wan's padawan-master relationship as anakin idolizing the person who's taking him in (somewhat similar to what would happen if someone lived with their childhood celebrity crush) and then growing up to emancipate himself, see obi-wan as a human being, being given space to become more independent, until they grow to see each

other as equals. i'm wondering if it's just my shippy ass speaking though because anakin does say that obi-wan is the closest he has to a father, and obi-wan calls him a brother. i always disregard these instances because anakin sounds like he's trying to deliberately rile up obi in the first one to me (something in his tone, i think?) and my queer ass feels like "you were my brother" was only added to "no homo" the "i loved you". but i'm really curious about how other people read theirrelationship pre-clone wars. do you think anakin as a child viewed obi-wan as a father figure? (or, horrible thought, sheev?) is it, like, canon compliant to just ignore the dialogue i mentioned above? idk i think the tl;dr here is that i don't really think much about their master-padawan relationship because i ship them in tcw era but it's at the back of my mind and i'm interested in how you view it?i think i mentioned my ass at least twice in my ask and i want to apologize

It is always okay to send me random ass questions!  And to mention your ass as many times as you want!  Especially if you’re going to say such kind things, you’re very sweet to do so.  ♥It took me awhile to put into words a lot of what I felt with their dynamic for a long time, why it didn’t ping the father/son parallels to me in ways other ships did, despite that I could see why others felt that way.  If someone feels like that’s their dynamic, I absolutely get it and I will happily talk to them about the characters on that level only, god knows I’ve had pairings that fall strictly into that category myself.Anakin does say, at two different points, that Obi-Wan was like a father to him--in Attack of the Clones and during the unfinished TCW episodes.  And it took me a long while to realize why it just never quite clicked for me, but it’s largely because both times Obi-Wan doesn’t really respond to that and their dynamic never really reflects that in any way we see.  They never act like father and son with each other, even as a Master and Padawan, they’re much more of a team who complement each other, they each learn from each other, they each give and take.  The very first thing we learn about Obi-Wan and Anakin’s dynamic in AOTC is that Obi-Wan is rescued by Anakin just as often as we can imagine a Master would rescue their Padawan.  (”I haven't felt you this tense... since we fell into that nest of gundarks.” "You fell into that nightmare, Master, and I rescued you, remember?”)During Revenge of the Sith, Obi-Wan says, “You were my brother!” which, lol, that’s never really struck me as being strictly familial, like brothers-in-arms are absolutely a thing and are often very shippy/subtexty.So, you have those three moments of (questionable) framing as a familial thing, which, hey, fair enough!  But it’s also weighed against a mountain of the two of them actually ACTING like an old married couple.  The beginning of Revenge of the Sith is like thirty minutes of pure banter on the way to Grievous’ flagship and once they’re onboard it just keeps going.  (”No loose wire jokes.” “Did I say anything?” “He's trying.” “I didn't say anything!”)(”This time we will do it together.” “I was about to say that.”)  Mixed in with a whole lot of, “Leave him!”  “His fate will be the same as ours!”You also have it weighed against things like Nick Gillard specifically choreographing their fight like a boyfriend/girlfriend fight where Obi-Wan doesn’t want to hurt Anakin, doesn’t want to have this fight.  You have it weighed against that scene were Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s proud of him and the look on Anakin’s face has no straight explanation that has ever satisfied me.You have it weighed against the ROTS novel--that George line-edited himself!--that says, “Blade-to-blade, they were identical. After thousands of hours in lightsaber sparring, they knew each other better than brothers, more intimately than lovers; they were complementary halves of a single warrior.“And all of that is before we get into some of the supplementary canon stuff because we’ll be here all day if I start quoting Wild Space again.So much of their relationship isn’t textually explicitly about being romantic, but it sure is framed in a way that’s very easy (and sometimes difficult not to!) put in that frame to contrast it at the very least, to still be defined by that framework. “More intimately than lovers” (or the infamous “Obi-Wan woke up staring at what he was pretty sure was Anakin’s butt” scene in the ROTS novel again) may play at contrasting against the idea, but it’s also still framing their relationship in romantic terms, even as it does so.  It’s hard not to think of them as romantic when you’re specifically using the term “lovers” to describe them, no matter what direction you take the metaphor in.Even during the Obi-Wan & Anakin comic, when we see them interacting for more than five seconds at a time while Anakin is young, Obi-Wan is pretty clearly not his father, he rather directly refutes that point when asked.  He is Anakin’s teacher and every line he says or doesn’t respond to reflect that.  Anakin tries to put it into that context sometimes--and my headcanon is basically, “Why does he do that when their relationship doesn’t actually feel at all like a father/son one to me?  OH FUCK YOU FOR PROBABLY PUTTING THE IDEA IN HIS HEAD, PALPATINE.”  Because he would know that Anakin wants that figure--but is obviously not getting it if he’s coming to Palpatine, yet another indication that, no, Obi-Wan/Anakin doesn’t really work like that--and so would drive a wedge between him and Obi-Wan over it.But really what got me into going from “Ehhh, I don’t ship that at all.” when I started out (I know!  I was fairly against the idea of shipping them when I really dove deep into Star Wars about two years ago!) to “Oh, wow, okay, that is super shippy and NOW I JUST WANT THEM TO KISS.” is that we got to see their relationship go from teacher/student to peers while watching The Clone Wars. We see them regularly banter like an old married couple, we see them each depending on the other in a way that’s about two people who are on an even field, we see that their dynamic isn’t left behind as they both move forward, but instead continues to grow.They’re given such narrative importance and emotional weight and, sure, a lot of it comes down to personal interpretation of chemistry--some people are going to see their banter as subtexty, some people are going to see it as familial, both are right for the person doing the interpreting--but a lot of the framing devices and the very consistent lack of actually giving weight to the father/son thing in my eyes means that I can very easily ship them and those lines don’t bother me.  They don’t hold much weight and even the characters themselves barely seem to think in those terms, it doesn’t really bear out for me.Personally, I don’t really ship them much pre-TCW, but I definitely think Anakin had some Certain Feelings as a teenager that Obi-Wan very firmly shut down at the time and so Anakin just kind of sat on them and buried them and it rather explains a lot of why he’s so willing to believe that Obi-Wan and Padme would have an affair behind his back despite that they hardly interact at all--because Anakin wants them both, because Anakin sees them both in a romantic light, OF COURSE they would see each other in a romantic light, too!  This is backed up for me by bb!Anakin in the comic not really looking at him like a father figure, but like you said, a celebrity crush, that sense of OH MY GOD HE’S THE BEST is positively star-struck.I think you can ignore the dialogue about father figures if you want, but that you don’t really need to.  I think it’s Anakin parroting someone else’s words (as he does throughout Revenge of the Sith, there are at least four major points where he’s just literally repeating Palpatine almost word for word) in a way that doesn’t hold water when it comes to how they actually interact.  You can tell me all day long that they’re just father and son figures, but when there’s so little in the actual dynamic between them that speaks to me of that, it’s not going to mean much to me.  But there is a whole lot of them behaving like how my favorite Old Married Couples act and so, yeah, I’m going to head in that direction instead!

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results). 

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be. 

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children. 

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy 

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim. 

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do. 

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point! 

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping. 

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex. 

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him. 

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red. 

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!! 

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling. 

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!” 

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out. 

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you. 

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage. 

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her. 

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement. 

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.” 

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos​ - @fairywriter-oracle​ - @tsukishimawh0re​ - @ofstarsanddreams​ - @bbecc-a​ - @annshit​ - @leahh19​ - @letsloveimagines​ - @bellomi-clarke​ - @wineandionysus​ - @guiltydols​ - @onephootinfrontoftheother​ - @liamakorn​ - @thirstyfangirl​ - @lilysdaydreams​ - @pan-ini​ - @mxqicshxp​ - @tanchosanke​ - @yoshinorecommends​ - @flightsandfantasy​ - @liljennyx3​ - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible​ - @sinister-sleep​ - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit​ - @unstableye​ - @simonsbluee​ - @shinyshimaagain​ - @ppopty​ - @siriuslystupid​ - @crapimahuman​ - @ofthedewthesunlight​ - @mythicalamphitrite​ - @artsyally​ - @corpsesimpp​ - @corpsewhitetee​ - @corpse-husbandsimp​ - @hyp-oh-critical​ - @roses-and-grasses​ - @rhyrhy462​ - @sparklylandflaplawyer​ - @charbkgo​ - @airwaveee​ - @creativedogs​ - @kaitlyn2907​ - @loxbbg​ - @afuckingunicornn​ - @fleurmoon​ - @yeolliedokai​

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies