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ak319 · 1 month ago

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Haii!, I really like your Arthur Morgan series and I've also read it several times and it's not boring at all!🫶🏻

Can I make a request? If so, can you make the reader jealous because Arthur is close to Mary Beth?🫶🏻 (Arthur and the reader's relationship is not platonic!)

(AN: Tsym! Remind me why we making Y/n suffer again? PS: I'm terrible at writing jealousy shit ngl and I legit dunno why. AND THATS LIT WHAT YALL KEPT ASKING FOR-😭☠) Hope yall enjoy reading lol)

Warnings/MDNI: None, just angst and then fluff to soothe your asses-

You were by the lake, lazily washing clothes. The day had you feeling sluggish, and the pleasant weather didn’t exactly help motivate you. The water was just the right temperature, cool enough to refresh but warm enough to keep you rooted in place. You should really pick up the pace, finish up, and grab some tea--or coffee--or a well-deserved break.

The faint hum of camp activity behind you was oddly comforting, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. That is until you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, quick and impatient, followed by a sharp curse.

“Dammit! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, girl.”

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning as Molly stormed up to you, her face a mix of exasperation and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“For God’s sake, Molly, you know my Tuesday routine by now,” you teased, tossing a wet shirt into the basket beside you. “It’s not like this camp is big enough to lose someone. Honestly, I think you’re just bad at looking.”

She didn’t laugh. Not even a crack of a smile. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration. You paused mid-scrub, a curious eyebrow raised.

“What’s gotten into you? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Oh, sure,” she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leave it to ever-so-clueless (Y/N) to not notice a damn thing going on around her.” She gestured wildly toward the camp as though you were missing some grand spectacle.

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “What the hell are you on about?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she hesitated as if debating whether you were even worth the explanation. Then, with a dramatic huff, she took a step closer, glaring down at you like you’d personally wronged her.

“Let me spell it out for you. Do I even bother tellin’ you what’s happening? Or should I just assume it won’t make a difference because your ‘dearest cold heart’ won’t care? Or worse, you’ll just laugh it off like you always do!”

Your hands stilled in the water, the soap slipping through your fingers. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

"Y’know, what I just heard and saw?” Molly huffed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Mr. Arthur Morgan, having a chat with Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth! That same snake who’s all over Dutch, and now, apparently, your man, (Y/N)!”

Her voice rose with each word, and you blinked, caught completely off guard. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I swear to God, she was asking him to buy her another one of those silly romance books for her lovesick brain. I mean, why Arthur, huh? Why doesn’t she go pester Kieran’s ass instead?”

Hearing her rant, you stood up, gripping the damp shirt in your hands as you processed her words. “Wh--sounds like a friendly chat to me, Molly,” you said, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “I mean, Arthur brings stuff for everyone. He goes out the most, doesn’t he? And, well, Kieran… he’s not exactly allowed far from camp neither he can afford anything right now. They still don’t trust him, y’know. And Arthur, he’s like a brother to Mary-Beth-"

“Don’t even start with that ‘brother’ shit, (Y/N),” Molly snapped, cutting you off. “It's just a facade.”

Your mouth fell open, heat rushing to your face at the implication. Uncertainty clawed at your chest as you tried to stammer a response, but she wasn’t done. Molly’s jealousy toward Mary Beth only seemed to fuel her fire, her words coming quicker now, sharp and biting.

“And don’t act like it couldn’t happen. You think she doesn’t see how kind he is to you? How he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching? Oh, she sees it. And she’d snatch him up the moment she gets the chance.”

You clenched your jaw, her words making you shift uncomfortably. Sure, you trusted Arthur, but the venom in Molly’s tone, the way her words seemed to twist around your insecurities, left you feeling just the slightest bit unsteady.

"Did he even say goodbye to you before he sprang into action?” Molly pressed, her voice softer now, almost pitying. “And the other day, weren’t you telling me you needed some cream for your hands? You even told him, and look, just look at your hands.”

Her gaze dropped to your chapped and reddened fingers, and you instinctively tried to wipe them dry on your skirt, as if that would somehow make them better. Her words were digging deeper now, clawing at something vulnerable in you. Did he forget to bring it? Or worse, did he not care enough to remember? Had your wishes, his woman’s wishes, stopped mattering to him altogether?

“This is bullshit, you should have run away with that pen pal of yours, to be honest when you had the chance,” Molly muttered, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you she’s after Dutch. And now she’s after both! I swear, those books she reads must be teaching her these tactics. Manipulative little-"

“I--y’know what?” you cut her off, your voice suddenly firm as your gaze drifted to the camp, your eyes narrowing.

“What?” Molly asked, surprised by your sudden shift in tone.

“Let’s just go,” you said, your voice laced with resolve.

“Go where?”

“Town.”

Without waiting for her to argue, you kicked the bucket of soapy water, sending it tumbling into the river, the suds spilling out and disappearing downstream. The laundry lay abandoned on the grass as you turned and marched toward the stables, Molly following close behind.

Damn everyone, then.

❀˖°

Arthur returned to camp, expecting to find you in his tent as usual. But when he stepped inside, the familiar space felt oddly empty. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Hey... um, Sadie?" he called out, spotting her near the campfire. "You seen (Y/N)?"

Sadie glanced up from sharpening her knife. "Oh, yeah. She and Molly went to town."

"What?!" The word escaped him before he could stop it, his voice louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and walked back to his tent, feeling heat rise to his face. He slumped down onto his cot with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You know how he felt about you going far from camp without him, even if you were with one of the girls. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was fear.

And still you did.

There were too many dangers out there, too many things that could go wrong, and the thought of you out there without him stirred a storm in his chest.

It was 5 p.m., the time when you two usually sat together to talk about your day over supper. The time he looked forward to most whenever he was at camp. And now? He sat there, staring at the flap of his tent, the minutes ticking by painfully slow.

But what bothered him more was why you’d gone. And with Molly, of all people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he didn’t have a problem with her, not really. But something about the way you two were together always set him on edge.

He’d told you how he felt about it once. About how Molly seemed to lean on you a little too much, how her sadness and drama sometimes seemed to pull you down with her. But of course, you’d defended her, saying you couldn’t just turn your back on your best friend. That Molly found her only comfort in your company.

And you were right. He knew you were. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit here, waiting, imagining where you were and what could happen.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, his appetite gone. Instead of heading to the campfire for supper, he threw himself onto his cot, pulling his hat over his face in an attempt to block out the growing worry gnawing at his chest.

But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the unease. Images of you and Molly wandering through town, far from the safety of camp, flickered in his mind. He trusted you, of course, but the world out there? That was another story entirely.

“Damn woman never listens to me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and concern.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and even as he tried to rest, he knew one thing for certain, when you came back, this was a conversation he wasn’t going to let slide.

❀˖°

Arthur woke with a start, roused by Bill’s loud guffaw somewhere in the camp. With a groan, he rubbed his face, taking a moment to shake off the haze of sleep and piece together his scattered thoughts. Then it hit him, the memory of you leaving with Molly, and the worry twisted sharply in his chest again.

He pushed himself up with a sigh, his body stiff from the restless nap. Moving through camp, he glanced around, hoping, praying, to catch sight of you. But there was nothing. No sign of you or Molly.

He considered asking Dutch, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Dutch would likely know even less than he did, and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for meaningless chatter.

Back at his tent, he sat on the edge of his cot, pulling out his journal in an attempt to distract himself. The flap of the tent was open, giving him a clear view of camp, but his eyes kept flickering toward it, waiting for you to appear.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to eat, not until you came back, served the meal, and sat down beside him. That was how it went. That was how it had to go.

He was about to get up and go to find both of you himself when-

"Um, Arthur?" Abigail’s voice broke through his brooding. She appeared by the flap of his tent, holding a coffee pot. "There’s some coffee left, and I’ve got to wash the pot, would you like a cup?"

He shook his head, barely sparing her a glance. "Why’d they go to town?"

"Molly and (Y/N)?" Abigail tilted her head, her tone casual. "Oh, they’ve been back. Got back about half an hour ago. They’re in my tent, just hanging out."

Arthur blinked, first in shock, then confusion, which quickly morphed into anger. Half an hour? You’d been back for that long and hadn’t even bothered to come see him? Not even a word after being gone all day?

He shut his journal with a snap, the sound echoing his rising temper, and stood. The muffled chatter coming from Abigail’s tent grated on his nerves as he stalked toward it, each step heavier than the last.

What the hell was going on with you?

He cleared his throat outside the tent before pushing the flap open, only to find you and Molly sitting cross-legged, enjoying supper.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you."

You swallowed your bite, not bothering to look up at him. "Needed a few important things from town, actually, so I had to go."

Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Can you come with me? I want to talk."

"I’m already talking to Molly," you replied, your tone curt, still avoiding his gaze.

Damn it. Why the hell weren’t you even looking at him? That gnawing frustration in his chest boiled over. He had enough of this.

"I said, Come. With. Me." he demanded, his voice low but firm, the tone sharper than he intended.

Your head snapped up, eyes glaring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, he regretted using that tone. Hell, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him just a little.

"Oh, excuse me, Mister. Don’t you dare order me around like a maid, alright? I sit, talk, and walk when I want to. And right now? I don’t want to. Now go away, we’re busy."

Arthur ignored Molly’s taunting scoff, still fixated on you. Something about this--about you--just didn’t sit right.

"I’m sorry, okay? I’m just hungry. I was waiting for you... Can we eat now?" Arthur’s chest tightened, guilt creeping in. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger softening. "...I was just worried as hell."

Hell, I still am.

But you didn’t let it go. "I’ve already eaten, and I didn’t ask you to wait for me. There are plenty of people around here you can share your meal with, Arthur. Plenty."

You turned your attention back to Molly, flashing her a rueful grin with your hair covering your face but he definitely caught it.

The Irishwoman gave you a knowing smile, her voice full of mischief. "Oh, girl, there’s always someone around."

This is how it's gonna be huh?

His first instinct was to walk away, but no. Arthur wasn’t the type to run from problems. With one swift movement, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out and behind the tent, just past the tree line. He stared down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation.

"What the hell is that all about?! And you know I hate it when you go out alone-"

"I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "I hate going out for some petty stuff too, which, by the way, I clearly asked you to get, and you forgot! I guess books are more important than me, huh?."

Arthur’s chest tightened. He rarely saw this side of you ever since you both got together, the frustration, the hurt, the coldness. "See, this is the problem," you continued, your voice rising. "When men find someone vulnerable enough to control, to fix, they get bored. Then they move on, find someone else to repeat the same damn cycle. Am I right?"

His mouth went dry. The words cut deep. But what hurt him the most was the thought that maybe... maybe you believed that.

He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Three meals with you, a cup of coffee, that was it. Simple things that made him feel like you cared. That made him feel loved. But you didn’t... or did you?

The silence between you two was deafening as he tried to process what you said.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur started, his frustration mounting. "See, this is why I don’t like when you and Molly-"

"Oh, no, no, no. Shush. Don’t you dare," you interrupted, your voice sharp, but there was a deep hurt behind it. "She’s always been right, Arthur. I was the dumb one. I’ve been working my ass off for you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye this morning, huh?"

Arthur froze, guilt beginning to gnaw at him. He wasn’t ready for this. "You know, I had a chance to leave this life, you know exactly who I’m talking about. But I didn’t. I chose you. But if I’m just gonna be sidelined like this? Nuh-uh. My ego doesn’t allow it. Nobody gets to disrespect me like that."

You took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "If you don’t want me anymore, then say it. Don’t play these stupid-ass games with me. I’m not Molly, not when it comes to this."

Arthur’s stomach dropped as the weight of your words settled in. He could feel the hurt radiating off of you, the betrayal that had built up. And now it made sense. Molly had probably warned you, just like she always did. He could almost hear her saying it a dozen times in the morning,

'Don’t let him treat you like that, they are all shit.'

"There is NOTHING like that, woman!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Is that what this is about? You’re ready to just forget, hell, even think like this over a misunderstanding?"

"Call it whatever you want," you replied coldly, not backing down. "But not gonna lie, the pattern makes sense now, Arthur."

He took a step back, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Don’t say that... c’mon. You know it’s not true! She’s like a sister to me! For God’s sake, how can you even think--"

Without another word, you grabbed his satchel, the leather creaking in your grip, and flipped it upside down. A book slid out and thudded onto the ground.

Arthur froze, his eyes darting to the book, then to the scattered contents of his bag. He watched, his heart sinking, as you threw the satchel aside in disgust. "Bravo," you muttered, the bitterness in your voice sharper than a knife.

"Don't even bother explaining. I’m tired." You began to walk away, but before you could get far, Arthur grabbed your wrist.

"Don't you dare, no way you’re... sleeping away from me." His voice started strong, then faltered into a desperate plea, but you didn’t turn around. With a sharp jerk, you freed your hand from his grasp and continued walking.

Arthur stood there for a moment, his breath heavy as he watched you leave. With a defeated sigh, he bent down to gather the scattered contents of his satchel. Tilly approached, offering to help, but he shrugged her off with a tired wave and handed the book over to Mary-Beth, who was standing a few feet away, her face filled with guilt and sadness. His hand lingered in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the cream he had meant to bring you, adding it to the pile with a sharp scoff.

His posture was slumped, his movements slow and burdened. He didn’t need to say anything, his body language alone was enough to tell Tilly, Mary-Beth, and anyone else watching that this sulking would last for days, and you... you weren’t someone who accepted apologies easily.

❀˖°

And that’s exactly what happened. Arthur waited every day, hoping you would just come, sit with him, and listen. He longed for you to let him explain, to sort things out, so he could hold you in his arms again. Dammit. He missed you at night like a child misses their favorite doll.

But you weren’t just any doll.

You were his doll.

And when it came to you, he was nothing but a man-child.

Everybody knew his routine, the gang enforcer's routine. Simple, predictable. Come back, chat a little, handle his business, talk and eat with you, then the tent flaps closed, just the two of you, a world away from the chaos of the camp.

But now?

Come back, brood in one corner, pace to another, sleep with the flaps wide open.

Arthur’s mood soured every time he saw you doing something that wasn’t just being with him. Chores, errands, anything that took you away, even for a moment, made him restless, agitated. He needed you with him, in the tent, with the flaps closed, where he could hold you, even if it was just in the silence of the night.

Every night, he asked you to come with him. But you ignored him. Yet, he kept asking, unable to stop the desperate hope that you’d return, that you’d see it the way he did.

"Damnit. Damn stubborn ass woman." He grumbled for what? The millionth time? Sighing he petted his horse as it trotted at a leisurely pace, just a few meters from camp. How the hell had it all gone so bad? What was even the point anymore? Are you happy now?

His horse huffed as if sensing his despair, nudging him gently, but Arthur barely acknowledged it. The familiar sound of the camp in the distance only served to remind him that nothing was the same anymore, not the meals, not the quiet talks, and certainly not the comfort of his cot. That's it. This ends tonight.

He is going to carry you over his shoulder if that takes you to talk to him. To hell with your protests and stubbornness.

You were crouched down, sorting through vegetables with Abigail, your hands busy with the task at hand.

It wasn’t long before you saw Molly moving quietly, eyes darting back and forth, heading toward the girls' area.

You knew Molly. You had spent enough time with her to understand that when her instincts kicked in, she often acted before she thought. There was an impulsive streak in her, a tendency to let her emotions guide her steps, and that could be dangerous. Especially now, when tensions were already high.

Without much thought, you excused yourself from Abigail, your voice quick and unsteady. “I’ll be right back.”

You left her with the vegetables and slipped away from the campfire, your steps light as you tried to stay out of sight. Moving quietly, you found a small, hidden spot behind a tent, where you could just make out the faint sounds of voices, though you couldn’t yet hear clearly what was being said. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"(Y/N) and I were so close, in fact, like sisters, but you ruined that too! I don’t know what you told her-" Mary-Beth’s voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual calm, polite tone she carried. There was raw emotion, maybe even a hint of fear, but more than that, it sounded like heartbreak.

"You did it! Just like you're trying to ruin my relationship with Dutch."

"Are you in your senses, Ms. Molly?!" Mary-Beth gasped, trying to defend herself. "How can you even think that?!"

The past few days, you couldn’t help but notice her glances at you, brief but meaningful. It was as if she was caught between wanting to reach out and not knowing if you’d welcome her presence. Her eyes would meet yours across the camp, filled with a mixture of concern and hesitation, as if she longed to approach, to console you, but the fear of intruding, of making things worse, kept her frozen in place.

You understood her hesitation. She was a kind soul, someone who cared deeply for those she loved, and in these tense moments, you knew she wasn’t sure how to navigate the space between you both. And neither did you try to clear the air.

"You and your pretty face are going to be your downfa-"

"Molly, enough." You stepped in, your voice firm. Molly turned to you, arms crossed over her chest, her face filled with frustration.

"(Y/N), don’t tell me you’re under her spell too, for God’s sake. She needs to get a reality check-"

"Molly," you interjected, stepping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. You guided her a few steps away from Mary-Beth, the tension between them thick. "Let me handle it, alright?"

"Don’t pity her, let me make that clear. Otherwise, you’ll be the one regretting it." Molly threw one last angry glance at Mary-Beth, shaking her head before storming off, muttering under her breath.

You stood there, a heavy sigh escaping you as you rubbed your forehead, watching Molly retreat. Turning back to Mary-Beth, who sat on the ground, you softened your expression. "I apologize on her behalf..." You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. You knew you’d have to work hard to get Molly to let go of her anger, but that's for later.

"It's... alright, (Y/N)." Her voice croaked, and you didn’t miss the tremble in it, nor the quiet tears she tried to hide. Your gaze shifted to the book resting on the makeshift table in the corner. The one she had requested. You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat.

"You’re not reading it?" you asked, your voice gentle.

She looked up at you, shaking her head slowly. You could see the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, and it hurt to see her like this.

You walked over, picked up the book, and sat beside her. "Why not?" you asked softly. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, her eyes softened. She hesitated before returning the smile, albeit faintly, her sadness still lingering behind it.

"I am sorry... (Y/N), if you... if you misunderstood my actions, but I swear it’s nothing. There’s nobody else, except Mr. Morgan that we feel comfortable enough to ask for things... but if you mind it, then we won’t--"

"No. No. You can ask without hesitation, and I am sorry. I was quick to jump to... conclusions," you interrupted, your voice soft with regret. You hugged her, and she gladly returned the embrace. The warmth of her arms around you soothed the tension in your chest.

You placed the book gently in her lap and shifted your body closer, not wanting to break the moment. "I just... y'know... when I love someone, I do it fully. And I don’t tolerate when that gets disrespected, y'know? That’s one thing I will never forgive." Your voice trembled slightly, the depth of your feelings evident. "But anyway, do read it, and then we’ll have a chat about it. You know I love hearing you yap about your books more than reading them myself."

She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of her old self, and you watched her face brighten as she held the book. You stood up, feeling a sense of relief, but also a lingering desire to stay.

"Definitely. But for now, I must go work too, don’t want Susan to bury me alive."

"You better." As you were making your way back to the kitchen wagon, a figure stepped in your way.

"Am I forgiven too?" His voice was teasing, but his expression was genuine. You deadpanned, folding your arms.

"Ummmm... let me think about it," you replied with a mock thoughtful expression, your gaze narrowing slightly.

He mirrored your posture, folding his arms with a smirk. "Not fair, woman. Not fair."

"I never said I was." You gave him a pointed look before turning to walk past him.

As you continued your walk back to the kitchen wagon, you felt a lightness in the air, a shift that felt... right. Arthur, still a few steps behind you, watched you quietly with an almost childish pout. There was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that told you he was waiting, waiting for you to acknowledge it all, to say what neither of you had dared to say yet.

You stopped for a moment, as you placed the cutting board, and turned to face him. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair, giving him a softer, not to mention the dark circles, giving him a more vulnerable look than you’d seen before. There was no teasing now, no masks, just Arthur, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.

"I’m sorry, too," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. "For the things I said."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don’t like it either. I swear, I’d rather fight a hundred men than have you angry at me. But..." His hand reached out hesitantly, as though unsure whether he had the right to touch you, to pull you close. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I apologize too...for making you feel that way. But I swear it wasn't in my intention."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t the grand gestures or flowery promises that touched you. It was the simplicity of it, the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show. "Well then let me tell you that," you whispered back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not going anywhere."

With a relieved exhale, Arthur stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you firmly, pulling you into his chest. It was as though all the tension from before melted away, and in its place, there was just the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. "I love you," he murmured into your hair, the words so familiar now, but somehow more precious each time.

You nestled into his embrace, letting your worries fade for the moment, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I love you, too," you replied, your voice barely above a breath, but you meant it with everything you had.

"Y'know darlin'...I was very close to shootin' myself if I had to sleep on the cold bed any longer. It took strength to control myself and not drag you out-" You rolled your eyes and pulled away.

"Right, now go away, I have work to do."

"Absolutely not. To hell with these damn chores. You are coming with me."

You shot him a skeptical glance, hands on your hips as you paused in your tracks. "Really?" you said, raising an eyebrow.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer, his broad frame encroaching on your space. "What do you think, darlin'?" he teased, his hands coming up to cradle your face, nearly squishing it with playful force. He gave your head a gentle shake, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s been too damn long. You’ve had me sleeping like a corpse for days. You cruel woman."

You tried to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest, but his determination was infectious "Fine," you muttered, giving in more to his presence than anything else. He grinned, his hands reaching for you, pulling you effortlessly toward the flap of his tent.

"Atta girl." His voice held a triumphant edge, but it was softened with affection.

And finally, after days, the enforcer's tent flaps were closed at night--and so was the distance between you two.

(AN: Req/asks closed for now, guys :/ do keep in mind ur ideas and send once I'll announce them open)

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midnight1nk · 1 month ago

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So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

Past Ink: Guys, it's fine. This isn't a serious episode, it would be too soon for another arc. It's just gonna be another silly Saturday.

Current Ink: ....

(the following is my live reaction:)

[*unholy screaming*] FOUR NOOOOOOOOOOOO

WOW WHAT A GREAT START TO THIS EPISODE, SCRATCH EVERYTHING THAT I SAID ABOUT THIS BEING A "NORMAL" EPISODE

NOPE I NEED TO PAUSE, I NEED TO TAKE A WALK BC I'M NOT GONNA GET OVER IT, DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS COULD LEAD

they're not gonna do it in this episode BUT the fact that goop!4 is being acknowledged in every way possible, we might just have a sequel in our hands

NO NO NO CUT THE INTRO, I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED THE EPISODE YET AND YOU WANT ME TO MAKE A THEORY ON IT ALREADY? HOLD YOUR FUCKIN HORSES, I'LL GET THERE GEEZ

anyway, we have to press play...

I'm pretty sure someone already has done a pirate au (no I'm not over what I just watched) and anyway, artists: here's pirate SMG4

Four, you should've read the file name before downloading it [*shakes head*]

Wait, is this going to be a parody of computer buddies? That's actually pretty fun..... OH NO NO NO

Ah, so we are doing computer buddies

Actually, yeah, can we have Mario as president please

love how it says "no one even compares to mario. especially smg4 who sucks booty cheeks [or ass] and mario doesn't"

Observe as the SMG4 fandom gets terrified of the word "perfect" [*screams*]

MARIO MARIO NO NO NO HE DIDN'T SAVE

I felt that in my core omg

as a graphic designer, this hurts

apparently, there's a whole new dimension in our computers, Only in the SMG4 Universe [*cheesy thumbs up*]

We really are getting all the computer buddies, huh? I wonder if KinitoPET will appear

[*silver the hedgehog voice*] It's no use!

BRITISH SMG3

wow what a funny bit... WAIT HOLD UP WAIT A MINUTE, LOOK AT THE MEDIA BOX

the eyes....

w̷̹̓e̷̼̽ ̸̯́n̴̩͆e̵̝̓v̴̼͑ë̵̤r̴͓͛ ̷̭͝l̵̦̎e̴̞͗f̵͉̐ṯ̴͗

and the left eye too... oh god, the EYE OF RA— [*gets shot*]

honestly, Four, you improved your aim ever since Western Spaghetti (ik you also did for PV but that's not the point)

I knew they were gonna bring in buff Luigi again

I'M SCREAMING

THERE IS NO WAY THE TEAM JUST DROPPED THAT ON US, THIS CAN'T BE REAL

ok first off, the fact that Four has a folder labeled "Super SECRET Spicy Memes" is giving "totally homework" folder energy (and I don't want to even think more about that)

hey, Four did say that Three brings some spice into his life (yeah, "rosemary to my bread" and all that jazz)

SECOND, the fact he has an image of SMG3 with him saying "whats the matter smg4 kun?"

THEN the "I know what you are" audio clip...

Four, buddy, you're down bad aren't you?

like "woah smg4's bisexual, I didn't know that", the closet is out of GLASS so we been knew but I DID NOT expect this

having Three be a tsundere is one thing, but FOUR....

🫵🏳️‍🌈⁉️

"they're dating behind the scenes" at this point, yeah

we have to keep going... [*secretly puts this clip on the fridge*]

I hate this so much /silly

[*chaos ensues*] [*sips my coffee*] just another tuesday saturday

GOTTA GO FAST GOTTA GO FAST— [*gets tazed*] i can never catch a break c'mon man

oh hey Swag!

four dollars is four dollars, you got yourself a deal

ok, I'm gonna need everyone to see Four's cute little hops here:

look at him go, my silly little goober :) oh, now you have? then let's keep going

holy shit, this fight scene is so well animated!!! LET'S GOOOO

never thought I'd see the day of seeing biblically accurate bonzi in an SMG4 episode and yet here we are.

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I'VE SEEN IN MY LIFE, I'M ASCENDING

"...but they hugged before" NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

A normal hug, where two people cross each other and are unable to see the other's face since it's over their shoulder, is just as it is: a normal hug. It can be seen as platonic and/or romantic.

THIS is a lot more intimate. 3 and 4's heads touch while they hold each other by the hand. This type of hug is reserved more for romantic partners when the situation leads them to a devasting end, where they face each other to look at and remember what their partner looked like, one last time before they die.

In this case, it makes sense as the computer is collapsing within itself.

"It's not actually them tho." Yes, they're digital copies of 3 and 4 but that's the thing: they're COPIES, acting on what 3 and 4 would actually do

SMG34 shippers, we are eating GOOD today yum yum

but then, that begs the question: would there be a moment where 3 and 4 would reveal their feelings for each other at the worst possible time?

(you guys are not going to be ready for my next episode concepts) What, who said that?

uh anyway them 💙💜 gotta put it on the fridge

I feel for you, Four, but I have a horrible feeling about this

...

Foreshadowing is a literary device—

no seriously, I feel like this could be part of a future arc where a past villain would ruin everything Four has and would offer up a deal when Four would be the most desperate. There's always a catch. Hmm, why does that seem familiar...?

Your life's work or your friends, it's your call, SMG4

HELL YEAH FOUR, THROW IT AWAY (omg just like how he chose Three over the USB, I'm crying dude)

also congrats to Ourstor08954957 for the lovely art in the end credits 🎉 such cute doodles ❤️

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Oh boy, what an episode. I feel like I'm in another plane of existence right now. Everything was absolutely incredible, great job Team!!

Everyone, say THANK YOU to whoever put the SMG34 crumbs in there, we shall treasure it for the rest of our lives. I'm gonna put those moments on my fridge. OH I would love to see the artists draw the SMG34 hug or pirate Four!

Love the fighting scene right by the end and the little details they have added in there. I guess it's "Torture Ink with the Idea that Goop!4 May Happen" day but hey, I'm so normal about it (no I'm not). I've been a bit stressed since finals are coming up so I'm thankful for anything this episode for me.

(If anyone is curious, the WOTFI website is still up and yes, I am logging its status just in case.)

I'm sure everyone is going crazy over this...

"They gay fr :3" [BenJoJoGV, Twitter]

🧍

BEN YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THESE THINGS—

#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #smg4 mario #smg4 smg3 #smg34 #yes it actually happened #ink reviews

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msookyspooky · 1 year ago

Text

Smacking the Slashers on the 🍑

Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Severen Van Sickle, Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, Foxy Coltrane

Bo Sinclair:

- "What in the goddamn hell?!-" He drew out after jolting under the hood of a car. He was bent over, his double cheeked up on a Tuesday ass on full display; how could you not? I hope you got one hell of a good smack too. He deserves it. Use one of the fanbelts on the wall. Make it count cause he's not gonna let you do that often without him getting payback. (Oh, but he smacks yours constantly and that's fine)

- If he hit his head on the hood so help you God you need to run and hide for awhile cause he's gonna rage.

- After the shock wears off that someone just smacked his ass... He gets a smirk on his lips and forgets whatever he's working on. "Oh, ya wanna play, do ya? C'mere." You just gave him incentive to hold you down and let his inner perverted sadist out on your ass. You ain't gonna sit right for the rest of the day. I hope you evade him or it turns to a sex thing...Yeah, it'll be a sex thing.

Vincent Sinclair

- He was so busy sculpting and had his Classical Music on high. You tried to get his attention and when that didn't work you swatted him on the butt. He jumped a foot in the air and you had to duck when he almost accidentally took your head off with whatever tool he was using. You startled the hell out of him!

- He's blushing under his mask but gives you a confused look...He's not mad he's just...Curious why you did that.

- He doesn't get revenge right away. Instead, he'll wait till your busy one day and do it back to you just to see your reaction and if it's a playful one then he's kind of happy about it. Not use to this type of dynamic with anyone

Lester Sinclair

- He was loading or unloading a carcass in the bed of his truck and it had been a boring day so you couldn't help it when you smacked him.

- He let's out the funniest noise, blushing like crazy clutching his rear and asks: "Youch! What was that for?"

- If you let him know it was you being flirty or cheeky; he's just standing there smiling a goofy smile and has an extra pip in his step while he works. He probably won't get revenge (At least not right away) but he will be tickled pink that you liked his ass enough to smack it.

Billy Loomis

- He gets so damn serious and overdramatic with certain things that when he was rummaging for something and irritated he couldn't find it; you decided to make him shut up in the best way you knew how.

- *SMACK* He flinched, his back stiffened and a glare instantly crept onto his face. "...You are so dead."

- You better run. He gets this shit enough from Stu, now you? He secretly enjoys it but he's a lil edgelord that can't let you know that.

- Que him chasing you around the house, jumping over and tripping over furniture to either smack your ass ten times harder or punch you in the arm or hold you down and tickle you till you can't breathe.

Stu Macher

- He is CONSTANTLY smacking your ass. CONSTANTLY. You walk sideways and backwards around him! So when he's sitting on his bed in a weird way on his stomach or something with his ass up? Hell yes you're getting him!

- He either releases a genuine gasp because you took him by surprise or the fakest turned 'aauuugh!' moan to be a smart ass cause he knew what you were gonna do (He liked it. He wanted it. He's a whore like that.)

- He giggled and gave you a sadistic smile. "Oh, that ass is mine!" and the chase is on.

- If he catches you; he is holding you down and goosing and feeling you up just as much as smacking you. He is a giant perv and holding you down while squeezing and spanking your ass is definitely on his cumbucket list im js

- Unlike Billy who knows when enough is enough; Stu does not. Just warning that if he catches you he's turning it into something very fucking horny. He is feeling you up one way or another.

Severen Van Sickle

- He was almost always playful and he would just give you a pat on the ass out of excitement on the regular not even thinking about it. So when you finally returned the favor his whole body stiffened a bit and a smirk formed on his face.

- "Oh?...Ya like what ya see, babydoll?" He'd tease you. Not getting revenge but not letting you run away either. He'd fold his arms in that leather jacket and smirk down at you with a twinkle to his blue eyes. Getting closer, cornering you into the wall with one hand bracing it as he leaned over you.

- "Wanna try that again?" He asked. Hell you weren't sure if it was a warning or genuine glee. Eitherway he wasn't mad he just loved seeing you get flustered.

- He definitely teased the hell out of you the rest of the night. Even telling his family and loving seeing you blush. He secretly wants you to do it again and purposely bends over near you not only to be a teasing ass but because it got him excited. He actually is curious if you have the balls to do it again because if you do that's just fun! He'll make it a big sexy flirty game from here on out...Definitely doing it more in private too.

Baby Firefly

- I would not...That's a level of sadistic crazy you cannot contain but if you did? It's 50/50 how she'd react. Most likely, she'd play it up after you spanked her while she was getting something.

- "The flying fuck was that for?!" She glared and when you get sheepish like she wanted then a grin would appear. "Hey...Are you flirtin' with me, honey? You wanna smack my ass again? C'mon. I know you like it." She will literally expose her ass for you and you aren't sure what to do because she LOVED to manipulate and play mind games to get you submissive with her so...Was this a trap?

- If you do smack her ass again, she's definitely going to make it a 'My turn!' and smack you twice as hard before whispering something sexy in your ear...May or may not lead to a game of ass slap where she's winning and you're running away from her because she hurts!

Otis B. Driftwood

- Grouchest Motherfucker to ever exist unless he really is in a good mood. When he was working on an 'art piece' and was ignoring you on purpose you took the chance of smacking his ass.

- He dropped his needle and thread and glared at you. "...Are you fuckin' serious right now? I ain't got time for this ya lil shit!"

- However. He's full of shit himself saying it because whether you get solemn, bratty, playful, annoyed. Does not matter. He's giving you a 10 seconds headstart and telling you "Run lil rabbit run." With a smirk. Especially as he gets older. Prison made him appreciate the little things including having an S/O that wanted to get frisky.

- Once he catches you, and he will in time, he puts you over his knee whether you're at. Outside in the barn, in the woods, in the damn living room in front of everyone. Does not matter. He will give your ass a few swats from his hand till your squirming while taunting you "Ain't this fun? Ain't this what you wanted?" all before doing it a few more times. He ain't done till your teary eyed and squirming and your ass is blood red. Then he's dipping his hand down. Rubbing soothing circles while whispering naughty praise in your ear. "That's a good lil girl/boy/bunny for me...How about we take this back to my room and you can show Daddy how much ya want his attention?"

Winslow Foxworth 'Foxy' Coltrane

- He was a bit hungover. Groaning like the oldman he is and bent over to get another beer from the mini fridge in the room when you took a towel because you showered and you aren't nasty like him and Otis and just...Rolled it up and smacked his ass.

- He yelped and jolted a bit before giving you the most unamused glare. "Really?...Really, you lil fuck- Ow!" You definitely smacked him again the second he got close enough. Something about that second smack has a smirk on his face. A husky chuckle escapinging him because you just made this a thing. "Ohohoo, you're fuckin' in trouble now. Come the fuck over here, asscakes. I think you could use a few lickin's yourself."

- He has good reflexes and a high tolerance for pain so he just jerks that towel out of your hand when you go to smack him and loops it around your waist. Pulling you flush against him where you can't get free.

- He uses his large hands to grope your ass and give it a good smack while you're up against him and he's smirking down at you. "Ya like that, baby? You must really want to give me an excuse to feel up this fine ass of yours."

- It is most definitely 100% leading to the most nastiest raunchy dirty but fun sex. The type of sex that you aren't keen on sharing details about. He smacked your ass the entire time while talking dirty to you.

#stu macher #billy loomis #severen #severen van sickle #3 from hell foxy #foxy coltrane #baby firefly #otis driftwood #bo sinclair house of wax #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #scream imagines #house of wax imagines #near dark imagines #3 from hell imagines #firefly imagines

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stevenbasic · 1 year ago

Text

Growing into the Job, Post 372: Gone Viral

At this point I’d watched the video, the twenty-second clip from Amelia’s Saturday-night stream that had gone absolutely viral, more times than I could count. The clip was everywhere now. My phone was broken but I still had my desktop computer, and the video player filled my screen.

MAN MAKES GIRLS GROW BY CUMMING!!!

It still made my mouth gape, it still made my skin crawl, and as I sat in my office alone this Tuesday morning it made me deathly afraid. What the actual fuck is happening?!? What had I become involved in?!? What had been happening to my body and - what was I doing to theirs?!?

Josie’s breasts broke out of her top.

It was a trick, had to be something with editing, or a really good animation, or something - right?!? People don’t just…grow! It was physically impossible! It broke so many fundamental laws of nature and physics and physiology. It had to be fake. Didn’t it?? And, of course, it wasn’t me that caused it. It couldn’t be!

Lakshmi’s ass ballooned.

Someone - one of the girls, or some online perv - had obviously made this clip of Amelia’s live recording of me sitting on Melissa’s lap, on her couch, surrounded by girls in bikinis and pajamas and getting whacked off by Josie. They’d clipped it, done weird things to it, and posted it…everywhere. That was the only explanation, that it had been altered. But…no. Now that I thought about it, I remembered. Memories came flooding back.

Katie’s feet grew and burst from her flip-flop sandals.

And what was happening with Josie’s hair?!?

And Melissa…Melissa looked enormous!

Oh my god!!

As I relived it again - the first time, in fact, back in the breakroom after a few bites of that terrible scone this morning - the memories started to get clearer. The girls had grown, all around me, my female staff had burgeoned and swelled. They surrounded me pressing around into me on Saturday night right after my handjob in Josie’s grip. And, though it didn’t make it onto the clip’s audio, I now remembered Randi’s whispered voice in my ear: “Get ready little man, your girls are going to eat you alive.”

Again: Oh my god!!

Three million views! More! More than three million views this thing had already, just on GirlToob (this popular, rapidly growing new video platform filled with content “for a female audience”) and it was posted only two days ago! I watched it again, looping.

There I was, naked as day (certain parts of my anatomy were pixelated out for modesty on some sites, like this one, but I was full Monty on many of the re-uploads) and spasming in climax like a rag doll. And then, as the camera left me and scanned the surrounding women all suddenly consumed in ecstasy, the growth began. Josie’s top, Lakshmi’s bottom, and Katie’s feet, they all got bigger. And, by god, they all got taller too, right after I’d obviously climaxed Yes, it was subtle, and maybe a trick, but the fact remained: I was now internet famous for making girls grow.

Can one actually die from humiliation? Is there an ICD-13 code for End-Stage Shame? Because I had a terminal case of mortification that was currently making my blood ice water and I felt like I should just go hide under a rock for oh…I don't know…the next decade or so.

I watched the loop again, still in stunned silence staring into my future and feeling the world close in all around me. Though I tried my best to deny it as trickery, part of me knew this was no joke. It was as if I’d realized this all before, sitting there that Saturday night, but only now had it actually become real. And it was very, very public. Had I been mad at Amelia for streaming this, on Saturday night? I don’t think I was. In fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even know it was happening at the time, but when the girls showed me the video early this morning I kind of freaked out a bit. They all just laughed as they watched my reaction..

“Aww! Don’t be so dramatic,” one of them had said.

“It’s all good,” said another.

“People love you,” they tried to tell me.

“Here, look at these comments, there’s hundreds of them,” I was told, “one girl calls you a hunk!”

“Or this one: ‘He’s every girl’s dream’.”

‘I want to hug him like a teddy bear.’

I want to eat him for breakfast.

Can I be next haha??

Though most of the commenters were women, men had chimed in too: ‘ugh the dude is supersimp’ and ‘fuck yes make them all biggger u fuck’ or ‘STOP JUST WATCHNG WE NEED TO STIP THIS’

GOOD LORD!! I was, suddenly, a pariah, a savior, an object of lust and envy all at once. Millions of people had seen this! My heart thrump-thummed in my chest as my skin prickled with ignominy and the anxiety that was coming on like a horde of locusts. It was eating everything! Did I need to go to the authorities? Did I need to go to the hospital to find out what was wrong with me? Or did I just need to commit myself to the psych ward and be done with it?

I needed t-

A knock at my door.

“Dr J?” came Aubrey’s voice, followed by Aubrey herself. Goddamnit even in my discomfit, my soul-panic, my eyes went to her tits. Jesus, her chest. Holy Christ her figure. This is Aubrey?!? Little Aubrey?!? She’d been six inches shorter - easily! - three months ago. If somehow I was responsible for all these changes to all these girls - What have I done to her?!? She stepped in, closing the door to my office behind her, wearing a sensible - if overmatched - blue blouse, a mid-length skirt, and a look of concern. She was also carrying my ‘World’s Best Boss’ mug.

“H-hey Aubrey, c-C-ome in,” I greeted her, hearing my voice crack again. It had been doing that more and more recently, especially in times of stress. I sounded like a pre-teen. I glanced at the white mug, which after a contrite thanks she offered to me. I hesitated. I remembered the cup the girls had poured me earlier; I hadn’t been able to stomach even a sip. “Is that my coffee?”

“No,” she said, a funny shiver to her voice, “I…I know you haven’t been drinking coffee, so…so I brought you this.”

I didn’t even notice her eyes watching me, studying my face as I accepted the mug and took a look at its contents. Jesus the mug felt heavy to me. And inside - milk, of course it was milk. Melissa had been insistent we keep a gallon of both 2% and whole in the breakroom fridge now, in case I ever got thirsty, or hungry. It was - I had to admit - the easiest thing on my stomach these days. I was more than a little self-conscious that I’d become a milk-drinker and blushed a little here in front of Aubrey. The smell, though, cut through my perturbation. Wow, I guess I’m really craving this. It made sense: I hadn’t eaten much at all this morning.

Aubrey continued to watch as I brought the mug to my lips and took a sip. Wow. It was delicious. Creamy, sweet, earthy. Maybe this is a new brand? And…

“You warmed it up?” I asked. It was warm, perfect. Like body temperature.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Aubrey answered, still sounding slightly nervous as she bit her lip, “in the, um, microwave? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I answered, taking another sip, and then another. It caressed my mouth, slipped down my throat and immediately went to work filling my body with warmth and a new sense of something good, familiar. Holy crap this is great. I fought the urge to just gulp it down. “Thank you so much, Aubrey.” There was something different in my voice. I sounded calmer.

“You’re welcome,” she answered.

This, of course dear readers, was Katarina’s breastmilk. I didn’t know that at the time though, and somehow, in that moment I didn’t put the memory together, or recognize the taste. Again, my abilities to avoid the truth were Olympian. I’d drank of it over the weekend and this was the same thing, but goddammit as I sat at my desk my mind was if nothing else a fortress of denial. Subconsciously I refused to acknowledge it - but I was drinking breastmilk.

I looked up at Aubrey and instead of seeing a woman complicit in a plot to overthrow my authority here at the office, physically infantilize me into a cretin, and help herald in a new age of overwhelming female power, my eyes saw someone else. I saw a girl who cared about me, an employee who wanted my day to go well, and a budding friend. A daughter-figure in some respects, a cool younger protege in others.

Christ I was so deluded!!!

But, no. Aubrey - all the girls, really - was all these things. Our little story here, if you haven’t figured it out by this point, is complicated. Good guys, bad guys, heroes and villains? It was all too convoluted for labels. What was I, for that matter? A culpable anti-hero working against my gender? A victim, a helpless simp? Was I the lead actor in a comedy, tragedy or reality-show from the most fucked-up universe ever? I don’t goddamn know, even now. But the fact of the matter is, at that moment in time - gazing up at Aubrey with my “World’s Best Boss” mug in my hand and my medical-records clerk’s breastmilk worming its way into me - I felt great.

“What are you watching?” Aubrey asked, noticing that my screen was on, video player playing, looping.

“Oh, yeah, this,” I said, taking another sip of warm, delicious milk and turning the monitor towards her, “this is great. Wanna watch..?”

====================================

mucho thanks to RiF for editing and guidance

#growing into the job

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trivia-yandere · 1 year ago

Text

two sentence horror story

Years ago, your best friend, Jimin, and you made a pact that if one of you were single by the age of 26 that the two of you would just marry the other.

masterlist | @darkuni63 @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree

writer: lyse

word count: 2.095

warning: naive reader, manipulative jimin, dark themes, yandere tendencies, dacryphilia, masochism, unprotected sex, creampie, smut, oral (m receiving), blood, jealous reader, murder,

Years ago, your best friend, Jimin, and you made a pact that if you were single by the age of 26 that the two of you would just marry the other.

Jimin watches as his friend - you - reads the words on the small card - the wedding invitation he has given her. He awaits your reaction - maybe a hurt one? A look of sadness and betrayal? Or would you be upset and scream at him?

“Please join us for the wedding of Park Jimin & Kim Ji-yeon.” your words are low and lack emotions - monotone like.

Your mind is swirling with the new information. You push yourself away from the kitchen island you were leaning on.

Jimin had not told you that he was thinking of marrying Ji-yeon anytime soon. He had admitted that he was thinking of it - but it was hard to ever believe Jimin when he was balls deep inside of you.

You met Jimin back in your childhood. Your mother and his being close friends and it was bound that you and he would be just as close. Jimin was your first kiss - you weren’t his - and he was the first man who taught you about sex - even if you weren’t his.

In High school, you and he had made a pact. “If we’re both single by the time I’m 26 then I’m going to marry you.” Jimin laughed, and you had, as well. Jimin always had a partner by his side so you took it with a grain of salt.

At first.

But slowly, you realized that you wouldn’t allow yourself to be in a relationship. Your earlier relationships ended for a few reasons. Jimin knew no boundaries. If he wanted your attention, he demanded it. You called off many dates because Jimin decided that he wanted you to be in his presence and boyfriends didn’t appreciate it.

JImin also didn’t like when you would think about giving yourself to another man - he told you countless times that all they wanted was to ruin you; take your body and use it for their pleasure before dropping you like you were nothing to them.

You stopped yourself from dating a few years back when one boyfriend suggested that you choose between him and Jimin - and how could you ever not choose your best friend?

Sex with Jimin happened countless times - starting back your first time and you asked him about sex. You had a boyfriend who you were semi-curious about sex with and Jimin had told you that he would show you the in’s and out’s of sex. It was painful at first, but you were grateful that Jimin showed you - even if you never had the chance to experience it with any other boyfriends.

Jimin never halted his sexual adventures with you even when he himself was in a relationship. Time after time, he’d come to your home and you knew just what he wanted. It’s what you wanted, as well. He’d fuck you so deeply - passionately. He’d suck on a nipple as you rode him or slapped your ass while he fucked into you.

“When did you propose?” you asked Jimin who then flashes you a dazzling smile.

“Last Tuesday.” Jimin responds, and your eyebrow is raised. That was the same day he had canceled a date with Ji-yeon to have dinner with family and yours. His old bedroom brought back familiar memories - especially when he had you bent over his bed while he fucked inside of you, hand over your lips to prevent you from moaning too loudly. He wasted no time in proposing and making invitations.

You lower the invitation in your hands until it drops onto the floor.

Jimin knits his brows, but he isn’t oblivious to your reaction. He understands that you’re hurt by his sudden actions - he hasn’t even expressed he wanted to marry Ji-yeon.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Your heart is pounding outside your chest. You’re unsure if you’re being dramatic or if your lungs are indeed collapsing. You cannot breathe, and you feel yourself grow stiff.

“Y/N?” Jimin’s voice appears to be far away - so far that it’s growing difficult to hear him. You’re trembling now.

Are you cold?

Are you frightened?

No.

You were pissed.

Jimin places a hand upon your forearm. You’re brought back into reality. Jimin’s eyes are shining with concern.

Jimin groans when your hand connects with his cheek. He does not expect to feel it again - and again until your palms turn to closed fists.

You’re punching him uncontrollably. Your tears are hiding your vision and with each punch you’re grunting and hissing.

“Y/N.” Jimin begins to block your punches, but he’s only human. He’s never seen you this upset before and now he’s unsure how to calm you.

You resort to kicking when Jimin has both of your wrists in his hold.

There wasn’t a reason for Jimin to marry someone else - not when you gave your body to him time and time again. You remained single for him and he wants to marry Ji-yeon - a woman that couldn’t pleasure him the way you could.

It didn’t make any sense.

Jimin didn’t want it to make sense to you - he enjoyed your reaction. In all honesty, he reveled in it. Was it sinister of him? Your tears are streaming down your face at such a rapid pace that it excites him - his cock especially. He understands that it’s wrong of him for wanting to hurt you (emotionally) but he cannot help it. You were such a naive woman now that allowed him to do any and everything to you - far too naive that he cannot imagine another man doing this to you.

You were lucky that it was him - someone who truly cared for you. Loved you.

“Y/N!” Jimin screams and now you’re limp with wide eyes.

You blink a few times to unblur your vision.

You fall to your knees, hands tugging at Jimin’s jeans. His cock springs out when his underwear goes with it. He’s now holding the kitchen island for support when he feels your hands wrap around his cock.

You open your mouth to suck onto the tip of his cock. Your tongue twirls around it hungrily, hands pumping the length of his cock.

Jimin bites his lip and groans, eyes fluttering close while you slurp against his cock. You do so vigorously - determined to show Jimin that you were who he truly wanted and not Ji-yeon. You’ve learned to know how he wanted you to pleasure him - and not even when it came to sex. You enjoyed massaging Jimin after a long day of work while he talked about his day. You would have dinner ready for him - cooked an hour exactly before he was off so it’d be warm by the time he came home.

“You’re always so good for me, Y/N.” Jimin flinches when the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat. He hands his head back and releases a low chuckle before biting his lips.

“Stand up.” Jimin hisses. “I want to cum in you.”

You did as you were told, kicking off your own jeans so that Jimin could enter you. You lean against the island while Jimin positions himself behind you. He shudders upon feeling how wet and sticky you were - you loved pleasuring him.

Jimin enters you hastily, your walls are tight and inviting. He’s thankful that you never allowed another man to take advantage of you. He grunts out a long moan, thrusting into you slowly, enjoying the sensation that it gave him.

Your hands grip the sides of the island just when Jimin’s thrusts become faster and deeper. The entirety of both of his palms grip your ass - he loved to do this when he was fucking you from behind. He loved your ass in general and whenever he had the chance to have it in his hands, he would.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, your ass slapping aggressively against his abdomen. You loved Jimin and the way he pleasured you - always fucking into you so deeply that it always had you creaming around him. This is how it should be - you and him and just you and him. No other woman; no Ji-yeon.

Jimin leans down to your neck and sends a kiss on the nape of your neck. His thrusts are sloppy and he’s grunting and breathing heavy in your ear. His warm breath hits your neck and it sends goosebumps throughout your skin.

“I love you, Jimin.” you nearly shout. He’s thrusting into you so lovingly that you’re already coming undone. “I love you so much.”

You confessing your love to him wasn’t new - especially when it came to sex. But Jimin never got tired of hearing it. It made him feel bigger than what he truly was; more powerful. You gave him this power with your undying love and lack of judgment. You would always love him and he was selfish and reveled in this fact.

Jimin cums inside of you deeply, twitching as he falls on top of you. He doesn’t remove himself from inside of you until he’s fully soft.

You’re trembling, not bothering to move. You hear Jimin behind you getting dressed. You don’t bother to face him.

“I love you, too.” Jimin murmurs to you, and your heart feels whole.

“Y/N. Hello!”

Ji-yeon is a sweet woman. She’s petite with a blunt cut, dyed blond. Her eyes are small and brown and you recall Jimin gushing how her eyes resemble the galaxy - a revelation that hurts you upon hearing it.

Ji-yeon invites you inside her home and even makes tea for the two of you. She speaks about Jimin and the proposal - flashing you her ring. It hurts your heart to see the large ring on her finger and just how happy Ji-yeon was.

You wanted to be happy for her - be happy with her.

But your heart wouldn’t allow you to. The ring Ji-yeon is wearing is the ring that belongs to you. You waited for Jimin for years, denied countless men who wanted you.

Ji-yeon didn’t give her life away for Jimin. She didn’t deserve this life.

Ji-yeon lifts the cup of tea to her lips and she blows gently. The ring sparkles underneath the light in the small kitchen.

Your hand squeezes your own teacup in your hands as you sip.

“I want you to be a part of the wedding, Y/N.” Ji-yeon says suddenly, and your eyes widen. “You and Jimin are like siblings.”

Siblings?

Ji-yeons words replay in your mind a thousand times over.

“At first I thought you and him were a couple.” Ji-yeon giggles lightly. “When we first met, I was so convinced!”

Your breathing hitched.

“Wherever you were, Jimin was and vice versa. How wrong I was.”

Ji-yeon stands, turning away to go towards the sink. She turns on the water and begins washing her tea cup.

“When Jimin asked me out, I was shocked to learn that he was single.” Ji-yeon continues. She rubs against the tea cup rigorously. “But he assured me that you were like a sister to him.”

Ji-yeon turns off the water once the cup is clean. “I’m glad he has someone like you in-” She turns around and yelps when something clashes along her face. She falls onto the ground, her hands barely able to catch her.

Years ago, your best friend, Jimin, and you made a pact that if one of you were single by the age of 26 that the two of you would just marry the other.

Jimin stares in horror as you stand over his fiance’s bloodied body, holding the largest knife he’s ever seen.

You don't notice Jimin behind you, but Jimin's eyes watches closely as you drop the knife onto the ground besides Ji-yeon. It rattles off of the ground and you kneel besides her, snatching the ring off of Ji-yeons fingers.

"Y/N."

You jump at the sound of your name. Your eyes are wide when you turn to see Jimin, and now you're crying. Tears are flowing down your cheeks rapidly and you're on your knees begging for his forgiveness - but Jimin was not upset.

As sad as it sound - his wife dead and bloodied on the ground a few feet away - he could never be upset for how far your love had gone. He had pushed you to this point; the point of no return. His heart flutters with the thought of you killing for his love - and Jimin could never love you any less now.

#two sentence horror story #trivia-yandere #bangtan smut #bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #btswritingcafe #bts smut #btswriterscollective #btswritersclub #jimin smut #jimin yandere #jimin imagine #jimin x reader

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sparklingmineraltequila · 2 months ago

Text

American Wasteland

Note: Super fucking late. I know I said that this was gonna be just them drinking and screwing but it descended into some super emotionally intense shit so please don't read if you're a minor or if you hate that shit

Warning: 18+ This is dark. Some EXTREMELY heavy description of physical abuse towards women, extremely unhealthy reaction of OC in regards to this abuse, Smut, drinking, smoking, swearing

No-one rides a motorbike who doesn't slightly want to die. It's not just the past few years of dealing with the scum scraped fresh off of Cell Block 1's floor that has led Rust to believe that. He doesn't need to see the Iron Crusaders' (and his own) track marks to know that every fucker here has a death wish; it's that low, churning engine rumble that tells him. Excitement often boils down to terror and you can't not care when your Harley's doing 100 down along the coast; a hurricane cooking up in the grey-blue of the Gulf. You'll die just swerving slightly. It's exciting. Rust sees that same excitement, the one of licking syrup off of the jagged edge, in Cassandra's eyes. Hell, it's why she fucks with him, both figuratively and literally. As she taps her fingernails on the sticky bar top, Rust can see that restlessness froth up, in her eyes; the way that they glaze over while she studies him. Cassandra's gonna make him fucking pay for it.

'You owe me, at least, a double,' she says, resting her forearms on the bar as she makes a show of arching her back and rolling the cracks out of her shoulder. Rust looks at her, unimpressed by her languid stretching,

'Those shorts show enough, as it is. Ain't no reason to be doing all that shit.'

'Jealous?'

Rust reaches for the Camels in the inside pocket of his leather jacket,

'Of these motherfuckers? Ain't no-one here that could handle that goddamn attitude. And for the smell outside, ain't no-one here handlin' their liquor, either.'

That earns a huff of a laugh for Cassandra,

'Let the poor bastards have some fun. Most of 'em are probably just trying to take a load off and relax.'

Rust sighs out a flood of grey and eyes her from the side; a cool, appraising look which Cassandra doesn't miss.

'What?' she asks, her head jutting forward slightly and eyes already narrowed, as if already anticipating the bite of his words.

'These are the same men that fuckin' feel you up, back at the club. These beers and shit is just what loosens 'em up.'

'That's just all men,' Cassandra says dryly, not even attempting to muster any indignation at the fact. A girl already resigned to nicotine stained callouses palming her tits and ass. How much do you value your body over rent? Where do you draw the line between the meat that courses with capillaries and nerves and life, and the meat that jiggles when a biker spanks it? Is it worth defining it? Rust knows that, for Cassandra, it sure as hell isn't. Shit, it isn't for either of them, or anyone at that. Sentient meat with electrical impulses tricking us into thinking that it actually matters if we put a gun in our mouth or not, next Tuesday. Rust gives another grainy, derisive scoff,

'Fair enough.'

'Plus, they pay rent. As long as they have the money, they can do whatever they want,' Cassandra shrugs while scraping at some gunk, on the bar, with her thumbnail. Neither of them look at each other.

'I thought we agreed that you weren't gonna bullshit me anymore, Cass.'

'I ain't bullshitting you.'

Rust's gaze moves from the beer taps to an ashtray,

'You goddamn hate it, Cass. I hate it for you.'

'I never said I didn't. But I ain't about to turn down a lap dance cause I've got morals. Shit, Crash, you think I'm that much of a kid?'

Rust can see the way she finishes with a smile and licks the inside of his cheek to prevent his own faint smirk; as if it's some depressingly fucked up inside joke that the two share.

'I am pretty good at pretending that it turns me on, though. Ain't I?' Cassandra says, leaning her side against the bar top with glint in her eye that Rust thinks looks far too much like baiting.

'Keep talkin' like that and you're only gettin' a single.'

'Yeah, that sounds like a fucking admission to me.'

Rust knows why she does this shit; he's seen it enough in the smoky, post-sex haze of their trailer-floor bedroom. Their bodies sticky to the touch, Rust festering in a pit of self-loathing, that he now doesn't even attempt to claw out of, and Cassandra, toeing the line between humour and cruelty, in a desperate attempt to cover up how fucking exposed she is to him. It acts as a way to convince herself that she wouldn't let him hurt her. They both know she's lying. Beneath a nicotine-yellow ceiling and the monotony of the squeaking fan, it's easy to pretend that they are what they present to each other; neither one of them has it in themselves to strip the other bare.

Cassandra is silent for a moment, too long a moment, so Rust bites,

'What?'

'So, I can't call you Ru-'

'No.'

'Not even when we're fucking?'

'Especially not when we're fucking.'

'It ain't like I'm gonna slip up.'

Rust nods to the bartender, uneasy with the raw territory that the conversation is quickly accelerating towards,

'Two fingers of Jameson,' he says, before turning expectantly towards Cassandra.

'A Budweiser and a double of tequila; lime and all that shit.'

The bartender gives Cassandra a slight arch of his brow, clearly unimpressed in having to get out the shot glasses in a place where the liquor bottle usually just stays on the bar top; anyone its owner until they pass out or their wallet runs dry. He acquiesces, though, satiated by having a girl like Cassandra in his bar. Cassandra sees it in his eyes, too: the moment where aggravation turns to lust. She's seen it often, as well as its inversion. The two things men know best, she'd told Rust once, after some fucker bit her shoulder during a lap dance, unable to stop jutting his hard-on into her as he'd called her a 'fucking teasing little bitch', Sex and Rage. So well, they often mix 'em up. Cassandra knows better than anyone else how to tree that line; girls in her line of work usually do. Turn that anger into libido by grinding on them well enough, or try to get hit in a place where you can't see the bruise too much. Don't want the customers to acknowledge that their domination of this body is as fucking pathetic as the last guy who payed to fuck her up. Bruises that belong to different men just don't carry the same degradation. You're a fucking punchbag, nothing worth actually beating into submission. Rust knows that's part of the reason that Cassandra has never bothered to cover up the one's he'd leave after they fucked: someone had finally deemed her worthy to stick around after the time ran up to teach her a lesson.

Rust turns to the bartender, deciding whether, with the coke that he took before chasing after Cassandra still pulsating through his capillaries, he should ignore the slobbering slack-jaw looks he was giving her. He's so goddamn exhausted, after all. Hell, he's already violated more CID regulations than he can count by even starting this shit with her but, then again, he's been in this fucking purgatory of bikers, meth and lukewarm liquor for 3 more years than he should so who's doing semantics?

'That Motel 6 across the lot still runnin',?

The bartender nods,

'As long as there're hookers and junkies on God's green earth.'

Rust lights another cigarette before saying,

'Finish your beer, baby. Then we head.'

The bartender miscalculates, misinterpreting Rust's biker leather as some sort of male cammeradery, and juts forward to ask,

'Hey man, after you're done, you mind tellin' me which room you leave her in?' his hunger glazing his eyes like it would an animal's.

Rust doesn't even have time to break his nose before Cassandra semi-lunges herself across the bar, only restrained by Rust's forearm as he tells her,

'Easy. Easy.'

Time and breath wasted, though, with the way Cassandra writhes against his grip, arm pointing into the bartender's face as she sneers,

'I'd give you two seconds, motherfucker, before your dick gets soft and you start crying to your momma cause it won't go up again, you dumb fucking piece of shit. Ain't even fucking man enough to spot an actual hooker.'

The bartender's face twists, as the insults spew out, and his own vitriol starts to froth up,

'Oh, so you ain't even smart enough to get paid for it? This son of a bitch just fucks you for free, huh? Shi-it, your daddy must've fucked you up bad.'

Rust hauls Cassandra out of the bar, as the pair of them continue to shout whiskey-spit slathered insults at each other, the violence of the curses slithering up from wherever they had hidden it with pills, liquor or sex, for the time being. The moment the bloody meat of catharsis presents itself, they turn into rabid dogs; heat, insect bites and all.

After body slamming the bar door to open it, Rust has to restrain himself from shoving Cassandra off of his chest as she unevenly places her feet on the asphalt, the heel of her cowboy boot twisting and making her stumble to her knees. Rust, still too furious with her goddamn attitude and the bartender's comments, doesn't even turn around as he strides towards the Motel 6,

'Get the fuck up and walk, Cassandra.'

Cassandra pushing herself up, the gravel still embedded in the soft flesh of her palms,

'Oh, so now you're fucking mad at me?!'

'What did I goddamn tell you?'

'To not call you Rust.'

'Shut the fuck up with that, right now.'

'Then, what?'

Rust doesn't look at her. Hell, he even quickens his stride,

'That you're gonna get yourself fuckin' killed with that goddamn mouth. You know the shit an angry man is capable of better than anyone else and you're far too fuckin' smart to be having pissin' contests with a bunch of liquored up assholes.'

It's harsh. Shit, it's a punch to the gut, Rust knows, but he's gotten to the point where he cares about Cassandra way too fucking much to let her be this goddamn stupid when he's around. She knows that, ashamed of her own naivety in thinking that she could ever protect herself from a man who wanted to hurt her. Rust glances at her,

'I get that you're angry, Cass. Don't let it make you a dumbass.'

'Anger is the only goddamn thing that has ever kept me safe. Angry women are the only people who have ever kept me safe.'

Rust clenches his jaw but knows that she's right and finds a lingering sense of relief that she didn't include him, on that list.

Even more so when she has him on his back on their motel room mattress. Rust knows it's goddamn selfish and twisted to be grateful for Cassandra's hard-earned cynicism, won from the sharp edge of male entitlement, but it keeps her fucking safe from him. Ironically, when they fuck is the only time that she doesn't look at him with a tinge of that silent, gnawing desperation. No, not with the way that she's moving on top of him, now; tits pushed up in that white lace bra, strands of hair getting stuck on the slick bottom lip of her open mouth. After Cassandra had desperately scrambled to get out from underneath him, shoving his shoulders down as she'd promised,

'Please-I'm sorry-It'll feel good. Just let me.'

An inversion for both of them, as they slowly find their rhythm; the bed's awkward creaking a deep contrast with the pure fucking heat in their held stare. Rust doesn't know what to do with his shit but lie back and try not to come just from the way she looks at him. Ever since being undercover, sex has been another convoy of power and domination; violence with just the same amount of blood and spit. Sex has never been an essentially good thing for Rust, not until he met Claire. For a couple years it was, now it's just become an amalgamation of proving how much of a sick asshole he is to the rest of the Crusaders and a reminder of the lurid hubris that led to his daughter's death. To be forced back onto this mildew infested mattress, and have a girl as beautiful as Cassandra take care of him, makes Rust want to either vomit or cry. But he lets her, he knows she needs this shit. Let her feel in control for 5 goddamn minutes of her life, Rust thinks, as Cassandra deeply rolls her hips down as he lifts up. An in adverted moan escapes from both; skin starting to gloss over with exertion. They both attempt to inculcate some of that violence they both need so badly: Cassandra scrapes her nails down his chest and forearm, while Rust reaches that very forearm up to grab her throat, his other hand forming yet another bruise on her hip.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' Cassandra whimpers out, as she stares down at Rust who reaches the hand that's on her thigh to grab his Camels; desperate for a goddamn anchor. As he lights one, he holds her there by the throat. Cassandra stares down at him, her body trembling with pleasure but her gaze steady.

They don't kiss.

#rust cohle #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle x original female character #american wasteland

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ladywisteriatarot · 8 months ago

Note

dear lady wisteria, can we get a reading on jk's fs' parents reaction to jk and their first meeting?

sure :)

i got six cards! her parents got quite the bit to say, this post includes channeling (hence why i only answer this question two days after you asked me this)

long reading ahead!

the emperor. wheel of fortune. the empress. five of cups. death. the star.

with the emperor, they look at him as a very masculine man. it seems that her parents are the traditional type, hence why the religious background came up in a previous reading. they've always looked at their daughter like a princess the moment she was born and they believe that she deserves someone to treat her like one. jk is wealthy, successful, influential, well-known, and in the upper class. this reassures them that he can support her in everything as she needs and won't have to worry about the bills. a strong man who's the breadwinner of the household and takes care of his wife is what they desire for her and he fits the standard.

with the empress, they connect him with the idea of "venus." literally heard her dad saying "he's a pretty boy" but still acknowledges that jk is extremely handsome and good looking while her mom acknowledges that too and looks at him like "a gentleman" after they had a full conversation. her mom could see the love in his eyes for their daughter as it is extremely obvious. its that whole theory where a person is so good looking, you'd assume they're a good person (this is the halo effect, not an opinion or fact, just a theory).

however, with death and the wheel of fortune, they aren't too sure. they are delighted that she found someone that matches her energy and suits her. this is also think of jungkook as a lucky and almost "god-given" gift for their daughter, where they will also have bragging rights at cocktail parties but...they don't think they will last (on first impression, later on they know they will commit). they think he may not have enough time for her because he is an extremely busy man and that he might just be "another lesson" in her life.

they know that she needs someone to be there for her even though she acts like she doesn't. his tattoos and his handsome face throws them off a little too, there was a vision of when he first enters their home, her dad says something like "he looks like a player/an f-boy" in their ethnic language (which doesn't sound like korean) and her mom hits his shoulder and is like "be nice, you know she likes him a lot."

short answer for the five of cups, just like their daughter, her parents are really good at reading people. give them one conversation with you and they will most likely know what you ate on tuesday (exaggerating but you know what i mean). they could see that he looks like "a loner" (I DID NOT SAY THIS, they did, not me lol). very smiley and happy but looks like he's very lonely and been through a lot.

they think of him as the type to regret a lot of things and push people away when they are upset but they just hope that he doesn't do the same with their daughter so they're unsure of his mental capability of being in a relationship with their daughter. they don't think he's ready even though he's a grown ass man.

despite all of these things, with the star, they can't help but feel hopeful. this is the first time that she's been this open with them when it comes to bringing them someone to meet and they acknowledge that she's serious about jk and wants to be with him.

although it seems likely in their eyes that the outcome may not be the best, they see how they match each other extremely well and made for each other as if "they were adam and eve." they think that if they somehow work it out, they'd be so happy and have a long and forever-lasting relationship, they have nothing against him. they're all for him.

reminder: none of my readings are ever 100% accurate, including everyone else's.

#jungkook tarot #tarot jungkook #bts tarot #bts jungkook #kpop tarot #jk tarot #jk future spouse

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queenofanime · 2 years ago

Text

Matching Tattoos

"You know I can see you, right?" The girl, who until now was strolling through the dark alleys, stopped. Her question was met with silence, with complete stillness. Y/n just wanted to get home, but she knew that as soon as her back was turned, the person walking behind her would follow.

"Just come out already. I really don't have time for this." Irritation laced her words... honesty too. She truly didn't have the time nor the patience for this. Y/n had lied before though, for she couldn't actually see the person. She could only assume it was a man. Living in the red light district had changed her perception of life, of love. She was cynical and street smart. By now, she had heard too many stories of raped women, too many horrors happening a couple of blocks away from her flat. She had experienced quite a few scares herself.

Despite her efforts, nobody answered.

At the other end, Gyutaro felt conflicted. The demon had gone out to town, trying to find a meal. His standards were never high, therefore, when he saw a bunch of middle aged hags, he was ready to devour at least two, but then he got distracted by the commotion from across the street.

Apparently a woman had trespassed into Triple Thread territory, and was now having a hard time getting out of trouble. 'The Triple Thread' were nothing but a bunch of low-level thugs. However, over the years they had become quite the gang. Nowadays, they basically ruled part of the district and controlled more than half of the whore houses.

Three of them had corner the young girl, who he, was currently trailing. Gyutaro hadn't thought much of it at first, but when the men got their asses kicked and send to the hospital, he became intrigued.

Looking back, he should have just minded his business and try to eat someone, instead of trailing the poor girl, who seem to have an attitude and was now asking questions... questions he wasn't ready to answer.

He wasn't used to being noticed. And if he were to step into the light, she would probably faint.

Maybe he should just eat her.

"Okay, you clearly are taking your sweet time so I'm coming over." Y/n's voice and the fact that she was closing in, brought the demon back to reality. However he couldn't move, his feet were completely glued to the ground. Maybe he wanted to see the girl's reaction and entertain his sadistic side. Or maybe he simply was a full-on masochist and wanted to damage his self-esteem even further. Maybe he just wanted to hear more of the girl's voice, even if it meant hearing insults and hurtful words. Whatever the reason may be, he didn't move, he didn't hide, no... Gyutaro just waited patiently for his arm to be yanked into the light.

Yet the moment never came. Gyutaro most certainty was not yanked by the arm as he had mentally script. No, no, he was yanked from his ear. The nails from the girl painfully pinching at the tender skin, almost drawing blood.

An audible yell escaped the demon as his thoughts ran wild. 'Did this human just had the audacity to do something as stupid as this!?'

Unpleasantly, Gyutaro was thrown just below the lamp-post, the only lamp-post within 5 blocks.

Recovering from the shock and the slamming of his spine against the metal tube, Gyutaro's eyes glanced upwards in rage. "You BITCH! What the hell was th-"Kill me now, because I'm done saving myself."

The interruption of the girl quickly had the demon shutting up; his mismatched eyes staring in disbelief. In return, the girl's gaze looked back at him. Not a single hint of fear or disgust could be seen through her orbs, just boredom and completely unimpressed. As if seeing a demon was a daily occurrence. 'Just another Tuesday for this asshole', thought the male.

Somehow the night seemed darker than usual. Small droplets had started to appear, littering the street. Soon, the sound of rain was the only thing that could be heard.

Gyutaro took the moment to actually analyze the girl's features. She was quite pretty, but it was an unconventional pretty. She had a knife-cut scar gracing her left cheek. Unlike Daki, her nose wasn't a round perfect button shape. Her hair was messy, her eyebrows were bushy and edgy. And her makeup wasn't the usual pastel colors that girls loved to wear. Maybe unconventional pretty wasn't the right description. The girl was harsh pretty... warrior pretty pretty.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"I'm not sure yet."

__________________________________________

"Quit watching me."

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

"No."

To put it shortly, Gyutaro didn't kill Y/n, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he became a guardian demon angel of some sort. He knew Y/n could handle herself, as she had demonstrated weeks prior. Still, he felt useful watching over her. Both parties had come to some sort of mutual silent agreement, allowing Gyutaro to crash in Y/n's flat, as he was doing tonight.

"I really think you did something with your hair."

"I didn't! Cut it out!"

The girl decided to stop asking, as she had clearly irritated the demon, but her staring didn't weaver. Annoyed and self-conscious, Gyutaro shot Y/n a menacing glare, however she seemed unaffected by it.

"Where did you get your spots done? Which artist was it?"

"What?"

Y/n's question had genuinely confused the man. What did she mean by artist? Did Y/n actually think his ugly birthmarks were made with ink? Gyutaro hated everything about himself. He hated his face, his body-shape, he even hated his attitude. But... if there was one thing he hated above all else, were those ugly dark spots which adorned his body in the most horrible way possible. He hated them the most because they were a constant remainder of the lack of love his mother had had for him.

"Woah, you really are dumber than I thought." The words slide from his mouth harsher than ever before. For the first time Y/n was taken aback. For the first time, she actually felt cold sweat run down the back of her neck, fearing what the demon would do.

"I-I j-just- "You really think I'd litter my face like this, by choice?"

Before Y/n could say something else, a giggle escaped the green-ish creature. A giggle that soon turned into a psychotic laughing fit. The girl could only watch in horror as the demon, with its nails, scratched and teard at its skin, drawing red blood lines.

The flame from the alcohol lamp flickered with the wind. Y/n prayed the only source of light wouldn't go out, leaving her defenceless.

"My mother tried to kill me several times before I was born. She ended up dying of syphilis, the hateful bitch."

In reality, Gutaro didn't know why he was sharing. His tongue was faster than his head, which was a very rare occurrence. Trauma dumping the woman in front of him was a test. Just like the night he met her, Gyutaro wanted to see what she was made of. What unexpected reaction she would come up with next.

The girl was at a loss of words, now understanding it was likely that Gyutaro suffered from congenital syphilis. She wanted to say 'sorry' but that seemed superficial. Sometimes words aren't enough, but actions were.

Without looking at the demon, Y/n's hand slowly reached out for the small nightstand. Gyutaro watched her intensely, knowing for sure a woman like her would have a blade or some kind of weapon hidden. However, Y/n had something else in mind. Seeing as the demon hadn't move from his spot and wasn't trying to stop her, Y/n pulled out a paper rice sheet, an ink pen, and a needle. That certainly got Gyutaro's attention.

The night was cold. Shadows danced across the room, casting an ethereal glow upon the worn furniture and faded walls.

Y/n approached the boy cautiously. Her steps measured and deliberate towards the skinny boy, who still looked angry and distrustful. She understood the depths of his longing, his hunger for affection, yet she knew all too well the fortress of distrust he had built around himself. But she was determined to bridge the gap, to breach the walls that confined him. Slightly gulping, Y/n closed the gap between the two of them until they were just a few inches apart.

With gentle grace, she extended her trembling hand, her fingertips craving the warmth of human connection. She closed in slowly, mindful of every fragile moment that passed. Her touch was like a whisper, delicate and tender, a beacon of solace in a world that had shown him little to no kindness.

Y/n didn't think her next action through. If she did, she would probably have never done it. She reached and delicately traced her fingers across the black spots covering his left prominent hip-bone. This time, it was Gyutaro who gulped, feeling the chill of her freezing hand.

Since he didn't move, Y/n took the opportunity to take out the sheet of paper and the ink pen. Gyutaro's yellow eyes widen, gleamed with an otherworldly glow, reflecting the untamed curiosity that coursed through his veins. The girl, with full-on concentration, covered his hipbone with the paper. And with the pen, started tracing the birthmark's shape.

Once she was done, Y/n removed the paper and set it aside.

She then proceeded to undress herself, shocking the demon (even further). And soon, Y/n was left in her undergarments, exposing her own hipbone.

Slowly but surely Gyutaro started to understand... understand her, and he couldn't help but feel a tug within his heart (if he had one).

The air was thick with a sense of determination as she prepared to embark on whatever journey this was. With trembling hands, she carefully grabbed the needle, that until now had been forgotten and started burning it with the flame. Once the tip was dark, bordering black, Y/n removed the insignificant metal item, recovered the paper, and placed it over her own skin.

Part of him wanted to stop her, wanted to tell her not to ruin her own perfectly soft skin, but Gyutaro has always been selfish. So he didn't.

Y/n had a million thoughts running though her head: 'Was it safe?' 'Should she do it?' 'Was it too late to turn back?' 'Was it going to hurt?'

No it wasn't safe. She shouldn't do it. It wasn't too late. Yes, it was going to hurt. But she had made up her mind. She wasn't going to back down from a promise, a promise of a better, honest world.

Despite knowing that this act would forever mark her skin, Y/n took the needle and grazed her flesh. It burned. A searing pain jolted through the girl's body. Pain the demon could see through her eyes. The smell was probably the worse.

Wherever the needle grazed, splatters of blood followed. Instinctively Y/n wanted to pull away, but the logic within her wanted to get this over done quickly.

Y/n spent over an hour carefully filling in the area while Gyutaro just watched, mesmerised.

When she was finally done, the burned birthmark took and ugly red-brown color. The angry blood lines starting to dry up.

Despite the painful experience, Y/n was satisfied with herself.

Finally she looked up towards the demon, acknowledging him with a cheerful smile.

"See, now we match..."

______________________

(image taken from Pinterest by Jenn)

______________________

If you enjoy my writing, even just a little bit... can you follow my insta?

I'm trying to grow my newly created art account: nena_rpa

Your support would mean the world to me :)

#demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #femreader #gyutaro #gyutaro x reader #fluffy and sad #demon slayer x reader #matching tattoos

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petrodragonicapocalypse · 7 months ago

Text

GizzMay 2024 !

(a retrospective tour diary by me)

🦎✈️🎵

king gizzard & the lizard wizard announced their 2024 world tour last november with a promise to "get woke, freak out the right wingers and love each other", so i, a like any normal person working a minimum wage job, immediately bought tickets to six shows.

read about the best 2 weeks of my life here (if you wish)

part 1: hamburg & amsterdam

after half a year of planning, studying google maps, scouring airbnb for cheap rooms and wincing at the cost of transport, me and my lovely girlfriend bennie (the person who first showed me polygondwanaland back in 2019) set off on our long-awaited trip on tuesday 21st may 2024. we were going to follow the band for six shows over two weeks across four countries. neither of us had ever done something like this before.

to kick off the trip, we flew from bristol airport to amsterdam, where we were due to transfer to a flight to hamburg. typically, a thunderstorm meant our hamburg flight was cancelled, so they sent us on a detour to vienna. we ate a slice of airport pizza in austria, tried not to panic and finally rolled into hamburg at around 10pm.

hamburg

the next day (22nd may) was our first gig. with around 4000 people and a 3 hour marathon set, this was gonna be the biggest and longest show of our section of the tour, and the only outdoor one. we queued from 1.30pm (early for europeans!) outside the venue, stadtpark arena. soon, the eerie sound of synths began emanating from inside the gates, then morphing into a soundcheck for the never-played-live-before silver cord, vocoder and all, and excitement amongst the fans was stoked. the weather forecast looked ominous, but spirits were high.

at around 3pm, it started raining. it poured relentlessly on the growing line of gizzheads in ponchos clutching poster tubes and beers for 3 hours until the venue gates finally opened. we ran to the front. we were hyped. we stood for another hour while rain and mist blew around the arena and thousands of fans filed in.

finally, just as the rain died down a bit, king gizz ran out onto the stage. the slightly delirious state induced by 2 oreos for dinner and freezing my tits off for 4 hours was almost as good as drugs. all thought of the water running down my back and legs disappeared. fuck yeah!!! king gizzard!!!

the rain soon came back in full force but we didn't care. float along fill your lungs was a fantastic opener, followed by banger after banger: a nonagon suite, work this time and iron lung (with ambrose braving the weather and emerging out onto the exposed walkway in the chorus to splash around in the puddles), to name a few. then, out rolled the highly anticipated new synth table and the boys launched into the 27 minute long live debut of the silver cord.

personally i was full of joy, whimsy and love for techno so naturally i thought this was fucking awesome, but reactions from the crowd (and from the "online community" a.k.a. redditors... haha) seem to have been mixed. it was 27 minutes long, we were cold and wet, the sound was a bit dodgy, etc etc. whatever. i was vibing extremely hard.

however, any dampened spirits were very quickly raised again by the epic 7 song metal run that ended the show. the crowd went wild - turns out moshing does wonders for the cold. i heard what ended up being 2 of my all time favourite live gizz songs for the first time: organ farmer and motor spirit. it kicked ass.

we made it back to the hotel soaking wet and probably bordering on hypothermic after over 7 hours in the rain. had a hot shower and then spent the rest of the evening attempting to dry our clothes and shoes with a hairdryer before our flight the next day. did not smell good.

🦎✈️🎵

amsterdam

we flew from hamburg to amsterdam schiphol on 23rd may, with at least 5 other gizzheads (easily recognisable by their poster tubes and t shirts) dotted around the plane. we arrived to a beautiful city on a beautiful sunny day and (obviously) headed directly to the weed shops. edibles legally purchased, we dumped our stuff at the airbnb and took the train to the venue: AFAS live.

waiting in the line, it was easy to spot who'd been at stadtpark the night before from the mud on their shoes. but the weather that afternoon was sunny and warm and the line was happily buzzing. we met some cool people including a person in a long yellow coat who was drawing huge oil pastel posters for the show - rad as hell and an iconic figure of the tour (i believe they gave the band a poster that night!).

once in the venue, we settled down by the barrier (it's always worth the wait!) and chatted with some swedish guys and a friendly australian, far from home. the support band was dr sure's unusual practice, a lively melbourne based punk act with a wild-haired wild-eyed frontman, filling in last minute for grace cummings who had to cancel several shows due to illness. they put on a great show, during which stu and lucas surreptitiously appeared to watch the band from the wings a few feet away from us. we gave them a wave, and stu shot us a wink.

the setlist that night was fucking incredible. gizzard opened with the mighty crumbling castle, a song that i'd been dreaming of seeing live ever since i first heard it 5 years ago. it was better than i ever could have hoped, with the weed brownie kicking in and the stage lights becoming kaleidoscopic. the band was energetic and the vibes were electric. stu overshot a high kick, fell on his ass and managed to hop back up without missing a lyric. self immolate - dragon - flamethrower - gila monster was unreal. joey used a quiet moment in pleura to stage-whisper "free palestine!", eliciting cheers.

somewhat hilariously in retrospect, during the hypnotic drone of rattlesnake me and my girlfriend both suddenly realised we were way too high. i have vague memories of the second half of the gig, including the han tyumi suite (REALLY REALLY MAD I MOSTLY MISSED THAT) and an honest-to-god terrifying moment in which joey and ambrose walked to the front of the stage, crouched down and stared directly at us for what felt like an undefinable amount of time. ultimately though - despite our tenuous grip on reality and the fact that we somehow got lost in a train station for an hour on the way home and spent the next full day in a semi-stoned stupor - it was a fantastic show. lesson learned: the dutch do not play about their space cakes.

after a day of recovery (let's just skip over that) and a lovely morning spent wandering around amsterdam taking in the sights, bennie and i made our way back to the airport to say our goodbyes. she was going home and i was travelling on to hit up the northern UK shows. despite knowing we'd see each other again in a week for the acoustic UK finale show in brighton, it was weirdly emotional. i was a little nervous about travelling alone, but excited.

🦎✈️🎵

(end of part 1, part 2 coming soon!)

#writing this mostly for meee but if anyone wants to read it thatd be lovely :]#parts 2 and 3 will be up soon (whenever i finish writing them) and lowkey they are way more exciting than this one bahahaha #still such funnn #king gizzard & the lizard wizard #king gizzard #kglw #kgatlw #tour diary #my posts

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protemporescitor · 6 months ago

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Finishing the last of FFVII Rebirth's VR challenges. Just wrapped up "To be a Hero" a couple of days ago. Taking another stab at "Bonds of Friendship" tonight. Anyway, I just had a revelation of sorts: Both fights involve Cloud plus an "assistant" character with Sephy and Zack, respectively. Both gauntlets end with Odin, who, with all due respect, is a bit of a see-you-next-Tuesday of a boss fight... BUT I am now fairly convinced that the Lord of Frenzy's position at the head of this hellish and interminable 10-round boss rush is NOT a coincidence.

Think about it. Cloud Strife's animal motif is that of Fenrisúlfur (Fenrir), the deiform wolf destined to slay Odin, the ruler of the gods, during the battle of Ragnarök at the end of all things in Norse mythology. I know that Square ran that boring-ass "chocobo hair" joke into the ground with Rebirth, to the point where newcomers to the series might actually be fooled into thinking that it's his real animal motif (and not just some tedious dad joke that has long since worn out its welcome), but prior to the new Remake series, the developers kept giving Cloud strangely villainous motifs, such as associating him with Fenrir, ostensibly one of Norse mythology's worst malefactors, or gifting him bat wings in Kingdom Hearts (unambiguously Satanic imagery).

More basic takes on this character usually involve some combination of the terms "emo", "loser", "boifailure", etc. Monosyllabic linguistic butchery aside, some of these descriptions may be partially true, but they often miss the real point: Whatever else he may be, Cloud Strife is anything but a harmless softie. If anything, post-canon, he is a psychological ticking time-bomb, one whose mental state depends largely on the company he keeps. With good friends keeping him on the straight and narrow, he'd undoubtedly be the gentlest soul. In the wrong company, however? He could easily end up becoming far more unhinged and dangerous than even his greatest nemesis could aspire to. Kitase once described him as having "a real dark side", one that presumably has less to do with Sephiroth's mind games than his own struggles against the world, ones that have rendered him a near-misanthrope, and which almost certainly would have if not for his ties with his friends and found family (Aerith, Tifa, Barret, Yuffie, etc…).

We catch glimpses of this side of Cloud's character every so often, such as when Yazoo and Loz shoot him in the back near the end of Advent Children. His reaction is telling. His face betrays not the dejection of someone ready to give up the fight, but the sheer vitriol of someone ready to tear apart anything and anyone foolish enough to get in his way. The same goes for his final confrontation with Sephiroth at the Northern Crater during the original story's ending. Sephiroth falls back on his usual intimidation tactics, not realizing that his hated enemy has long since cut his strings, and that his attempts at terrorizing and gaslighting the "nobody" who humbled him at Nibelheim are destined to fail. Cloud, though initially shocked, does not shrink away. He narrows his gaze. He knows the fight is over before it's even begun, and proceeds to deliver his foe an absolutely merciless beatdown.

Amidst the relentless meta pookie-posting and metaphorical cheek-pinching, people forget that there's a lot of hidden rage within this character. It is not a side of his personality that he is proud of, per se. But it is clearly there. More enlightened fans will understand this implicitly. One does have to wonder what missed opportunities Square had after AC/DoC for further character development in this regard. Sadly, as of the failure of Dirge of Cerberus to meaningfully advance FFVII's story, and Square's subsequent overreliance on contentious backstory additions instead, we may never know. Still, hope remains that the fandom could help fill in the blanks from time to time.

"The wild still lingered in him, and the wolf in him merely slept." —Jack London, White Fang

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vulture5638 · 3 months ago

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Y'all !! Opinions on tinies that are abnormally sturdy? Like,, if tiny prey can't be chucked across a room and come out unscathed then where's the fun LMAO (like. Literally no reaction even if punted into a wall dhfhdhf, if anything its thrilling for the freaky little dude and u bet ur ass they're asking to be punted again afterwards 😭🙏)

But ooh I have so many brainworms about preds manhandling their tiny prey and the prey is just like. "Is that really the best you can do?? I thought you were supposed to be a pred, so act like one." And provoking the pred into being a little (a lot?) more rough (Squishing tinies beneath their palm and it's just another average Tuesday for the tiny SHFVDHF,, and again reiterating its painless for the tiny, at most a borderline uncomfortable pressure)

Bonus if the preds stomach is the only thing that can actually subdue the tiny,, (not like digestion tho,, more like tiring the tiny out till they finally stop fighting back/talking shit LMAO, perhaps even (quite literally) squeezing a reluctant apology from em, otherwise the tiny isn't getting any reprieve from the pred's constantly shifting guts,, + pred lying on their stomach for extra squish)

😭 I'm so. Picky when it comes to specific things so?? Hoping others understand my thought process LMAOO (the more g/t vore defies the laws of physics the better 😼)

#safe vore #g/t vore #extreme cuddling #v0re

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smolwritingchick · 7 months ago

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Ah ok! Update and Three Smol Previews for Bangtan Gal :)

Okay, good news, I am hoping to post the wrestling chapters tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. It's almost done. Gonna let that be for a bit after I post and continue focusing on Bangtan Gal. A few chapters are boring imo but the later chapters have more drama.

Also, good news with Bangtan Gal, the second chapter I plan to post, MAMA Awards 2016 is done. I just need to reread and edit.

It's 18,000+ words. I...went overboard. I am so sorry. I don't know how to stop. I guess pace yourself?? I had a lot of ideas and it kept flowing. It's MAMA Award heavy and I was writing about people's reactions.

I have to split the MAMA Awards chapter into Part 1 (A big moment happens) and Part 2 (Jennie's response to Hyuna) because I can't fit all my words in one Tumblr post. (It's THAT bad lmfao this never happened to me before. I have a problem)

So I will link both parts of that chapter in the author's note and masterlist when it's uploaded. You'll also see the links at the end of the chapter to continue reading or to go back to read part 1 of that chapter.

All I need to do is work on is the chapter before. Which is The 3rd Muster chapter. It shouldn't take too long. Once that's done and edited, expect those two and a half chapters to be released together. Thanks for your patience! I hope the writing isn't too crazy with what I have planned.

I truly liked the ideas I came up with :)

Here's another smol preview for the MAMA Award chapter. Three Smol Scenes.

------

The day of the MAMA Awards was finally here. The day Jennie anticipated the most. She had a good feeling about this show and was excited to show off her hard work with what she had planned. The morning of the show, she decided to tweet one simple word along with an eyebrow raising hashtag.

'Bet. #GonBeAnInteresting24Hours #Jen'

Jennie had been a trending topic on Naver and various K-Pop news outlets, which caused people to anticipate the MAMA Awards even more to see what might happen and if she may respond to Hyuna. Her silence on the matter had been a hot topic and now with her tweet going viral, fans stirred in a frenzy.

-------

With the show getting ready for the next segment, Jennie suddenly received a few packs of smarties from Jungkook.

"How'd you know I was about to ask?" she happily accepted them with surprise in her voice.

"I brought some with me just in case. I was paying attention to your facial expression. When you're about to ask for smarties or say that you wish you had them, you make this cute face. It's like you're pouting,"

"What? I was not pouting..." She turned away, feeling her face warm as he giggled.

"You just did it again,"

"Stop looking at me," she playfully pushed him away, making him laugh harder.

------

Suddenly, Hyuna had changed some of her lyrics, not looking Jennie's way as she danced.

Not a high and mighty girl scout in the club behind some fake bulletproof glass. How boring.

Some idols widened their eyes while others glanced over to where Jennie sat.

Yet another diss? This was getting out of control.

Bam Bam cringed and glanced at Jennie with worry, hoping she'd be all right. Hayoon frowned at the diss and shook her head slightly.

However, Jennie only smirked as she continued to watch, knowing that all eyes were on her to see how she'd react. Bangtan glanced at her and as she met their eyes, she gave them a nod. They nodded back and remained calm as they continued to watch the performance.

Suddenly a switch flipped in Jennie's demeanor as she rolled her neck and stared at Hyuna.

'This bitch got me fucked up...' she thought as she kept her cool.

Fans tweet:

'Not again!! Enough already!'

'Is she trying to provoke Jennie?'

'Don't be mad if Jennie catches her in an alley to stomp that ass!'

'The neck roll! I repeat! The neck roll! Jennie just did the neck roll! That is BAD! She got something planned! Get ready!'

'I don't like how she's acting. This is bullying at this point. Hyuna needs to chill,'

'Jen better than me because I would have ran on stage and popped her shit,'

'From the looks of it, Jennie is so bitter and jealous,'

'That smirk means business. I'm not ready,'

'I wish people would stop judging Jennie,'

'Jennie looks like she's plotting,'

'Why does she look so hot when she's upset?'

'Bangtan knows something that we don't because they don't look bothered at all,'

'Bangtan isn't even phased?! What is Jennie planning tonight?'

#smol update #smol preview

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silviakundera · 9 months ago

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The Spirealm episode 5 -7 reaction (Let's call this episode 4 now per the new 38 episodes version)

fair warning: in these episode reactions I'm not gonna pretend I haven't read the novel. in fact, I purposely finished the novel before viewing, to get The Full Experience. thus novel spoilers, including twist end, included.

[1] [2] [3-4]

DON'T LEAN ON THE BANISTER ASDFGHJK

Ruan Baijie saving his boyfriend's ass yet again, must be Tuesday.

Then first key!!!! I wanna see the key!!!!!!!!

The survivors: wow, ok, Baijie really loves u

"Are you leaving so soon and reluctant to leave me?" // "No, it's not that," he lies

The suspicious survivors just couldn't resist trying to steal the door note and now no one has the key but the monster NICE GOING 😒

ahh and then the reveal that ofc Ruan Baijie figured out the taboos long before. He saves those who are worthy (aka his new partner).

wow Ruan Baijie is pretty. gifs don't do him justice.

Death match vs the bad hair day from The Ring.

Ep6

The whole scene in the opening of ep 6 is terribly cute. Ruan Baijie exposed as a drama sprite who was faking his injury, but Lin Quishi just accepts this in good humor as he's told this was just to "bring us closer" and for fun. Another round of, you're really picking me? but why?

He really does the, 'come closer' move to make your crush get up close so you can create a sense of intimacy with hushed voices smh

"Because there is light in you."

oh, did you give me this expensive looking necklace because you want me to join your gang?

no, because you are you.

..... misses the very gay pass completely.

(tbh I feel as if the actor is playing it like his character IS sensing the romantic undertones sometimes but doesn't know how to respond/not ready to process it and so represses & pushes it out of his mind and to the side)

Ep 7

They solved the case. Ruan Baijie gives him back the key again, "Still yours." They exchange a romantic look before he steps over.

Our protagonist thinks he's back in reality and only 15 minutes have passed. But of course that's not true: whether he entered the game time A, B, C, or it's the 12th Door theory... he's still in-play.

A roommate?? This must be the Wei what's his face, his One Friend I recall from the novel. With the girlfriend.

Injuries from the door lingering "outside".

Chestnut won't let him hug! (The clue in the novel that this is still within the door. Now, is this a new phenom or was it already Like That in ep 1? 🤔 Remains ambiguous.)

Wait, in this drama the One Friend has heard of Spirealm?! And it's eviiiill reputation. Everyone who plays it "goes insane and commits suicide". Lin Quishi acts like he hasn't already been warned that players die from the game.

Ah, created by a chinese designer who wanted to make a "comprehensive spirit world". The story goes, after he made it he added all the violent elements to the version he sold, to make it a bloody survival game.

'Can't control when you enter the door, can't get rid of it, Men Can Conquer Heaven'.

Bro goes to sleep and startles awake cause Ruan Nanzhu fka Baijie is pulling an Edward Cullen by his bedside. The more intense looking Nanzhu asks him to come along. Naturally, our boy stumbles along and meets!!! Cheng Qianli!!!!!!! 😄😄😄😄 Who is driving, like the scene in the novel. IM SO HAPPY.

Headquarters!!!!! The group!#####!!!! I'm hyped to see them all live & in color.

Emphasized again that once you enter the game, you must complete all 12 doors to get rid of the mental control of the game. ~Mind control~

(because the censors won't allow it to be explicitly supernatural)

(which doesn't mean the writer didn't intend to get around this barrier by using subtext & inferences that novel readers would understand 🤔🤔)

The clue for his next door freaks out the whole house. But then he meets cranky Cheng Yixie!!!!

He's settling in but the moment he glimpses Nanzhu's returned BUT INJURED *gasp* Must scurry down for hurt/comfort UST.

Love how absolutely unnecessary this hand-holding is. Light piano background to set the romantic mood.

A gurgling stomach growl from Ruan Nanxhu & Lin Quishi takes the initiative to stand up and make himself at home to cook for the man who's obviously being positioned as his love interest. (Like in The Untamed & Word of Honor, we're not being terribly subtle here.)

This is the 3rd time we've seen an instinctive caretaking gesture from him towards Nanzhu and the last moment as we fade out is the "boss man" looking down at his newly bestowed bandage and obviously GOING THRU IT. He's making this sigh and curling his fingers and everything.

side note: Lin Quishi is getting flashes of himself trapped under rubble. This is the second time we see them. Are they flash backs? Of a past event he survived, giving him baggage to carry? OR are we circling back again to my alternate, alternate theory that an evil VR game is part of the illusion and this IS the supernatural Doors from the novel that terminal people can get a chance to enter, to prolong or possibly prevent your death? (if so, then Ruan Nanzhu is still indeed the 12th door god. and Lin Quishi must decide to remain in the fantasy or exit & return to reality?)

#the spirealm #the spirealm spoilers #silvia watches the spirealm #cdrama #im gonna queue these thru the weekend but try to space them out #if they annoy u just block the tag silvia watches the spirealm

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dingochef · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Another boring night in Bakersfield, but Jake makes it a lot more interesting.

Masterlist

Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Photo Flirt

You wake up the next morning with that slight disorientation that comes with business travel. You'll be in meetings all day so you sneak in a quick workout in before you have to drive over to the hangar where today's debrief is going to take place. The hours-long meeting goes as expected and the group determines that the heat shielding was the failure point. Something you had expected all along. Tomorrow when you get back to the office you'll write up a summary report to get over to the materials research department to see what they can come up with for the next prototype.

Tonight, you joined your coworkers for drinks and dinner at some local sports bar. There is nothing more depressing than a crowd of business people drinking oversized fruity drinks at a Chili's off the freeway on a Tuesday evening, so you're glad for the local choice. Dinner and drinks are pleasant enough. You talk about the Padres game and you get to brag about catching a foul ball. Near the end of dinner your phone buzzes in your pocket and it's a text from Jake.

Jake: What's up?

You: Just finishing dinner, can I call you in an hour when I get back to the hotel?

Jake: Sounds good. P.S. wear something sexy.

The next message is just a picture of the very familiar pattern of your black lace boy shorts. The memory of Jake stuffing them into his pocket the other night flashes in your mind along with a brief flush on your face. That cheeky bastard, two can play at this game.

You settle up your bill and say goodbye to your coworkers. Most everyone will meet up in the San Diego office on Thursday to discuss next steps.

You get back to your hotel just as the sun is starting to set. Pulling the sheer curtains closed for a nice background you figure out the angle that you can place your phone on the desk to get the shot I'm aiming for. You want a silhouette of yourself backlit with the setting sun filtered to send to Jake. Nothing identifying, but still sexy as hell. It takes you about 10 tries to get the shot you want. The picture is a silhouette showing the distinct profile of your ass and breasts. Rifling through your overnight bag you search through the clothes to see what could qualify as sexy. A white lace bra and a pair of simple white cotton underwear with lace trim catch your eye. That'll do, you think, classic and a little innocent.

You send the picture and get relaxed on your bed and wait for Jake's reaction. It's less than five minutes before your phone rings.

You answer, "Hello, Jake."

"Are you trying to kill me? You're all the way up there in BFE and I'm down here in this lousy house," he replies, in a half whine.

"I'm not the one who sent me a picture of your underwear while I was at dinner with coworkers," you remind him, teasing him.

"Bad or good timing? I bet you got out of there as fast as you could."

"Only because you needed some teasing back. You said, ‘dress sexy’, so what are you wearing?"

"Dog tags."

"That all?"

"Well, I am holding a certain pair of someone's underwear if you want to count that as clothing."

The image of Jake stretched out on his bed, miles of golden skin, and hard muscles with just his dog tags nestled between his pecs is instantly conjured up in your mind. In this mental tableau he is twirling your underwear around his index finger on the hand that isn't holding the phone to his ear.

"My turn now, what are you wearing, Ms. Matthews?"

"Not much, a white lace bra and some white bikini underwear with lace trim."

"Sounds like you're trying to play the innocent."

"Maybe I am, what are you going to do about it?"

You are starting to massage your breast through the lacy cup and squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, the ache already starting to build in your core.

Jake laughs at the challenge,

"Well, if I were there I would start by kissing you so hard I'd leave you breathless."

Your fingers go up to your lips and press them wishing it was Jake's lips.

"Next I work my way down your neck with my lips and tongue and just skim the tops of your tits peeking out of your bra. I want to tease you right now and make you want me inside you so bad."

Your hand traces his path as he talks down your neck and across the swell of your breasts.

"Next I'd slide your bra straps down your arms and pull down your bra to reveal those amazing tits," he purrs, a light hitch in his speech, you know he is touching himself right now.

"I'd suck on your nipples and maybe use a little bit of teeth to get you really worked up."

You pinch your nipples hard enough in response that you moan into the phone.

The smile on Jake's face is audible through the phone.

"Getting a little antsy, El?" he teases.

The way he gives you a nickname makes your chest flutter.

"I'm just following your lead, dear," you breathily answer back.

Another hitch in his breathing tells me that he is getting into this. You imagine him fisting himself in slow languid strokes and you can feel yourself get wetter.

"Where do you go next, Jake?"

"At this point I'm so hard I could cut glass, it's taking everything I have to not just rip your underwear and plunge in."

His breath starts to quicken,

"But ever the gentleman, I pull those little innocent white panties down and dive in with my tongue."

The memory of his talented tongue sends your hand diving into your underwear and you begin furiously rub your clit, moaning indecently and breathing heavily into the phone.

"I want to make sure you're nice and wet when you take my cock inside you. Oh baby, I've got your panties here and god do they smell good."

You're imagining Jake has draped your stolen underwear over his nose as he pumps his cock in fast strokes to smell your arousal from the other night.

"Oh God, I want you inside me right now,"

you moan into the phone, your moans are getting a little louder and breaths are getting shorter.

"Jake, I'm so close, so close," you whine.

His voice is strained when he replies,

"Me too baby, me too. Come for me Elsa, let me hear you come."

It is his voice that finally pushes you over the edge, a strangled cry from you as your orgasm washes over you. Moans emit from the phone speaker as Jake comes on the other end of the line. The next few moments are filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and your mutual returns back to earth. Jake speaks first,

"God damn you are so sexy. I can't wait to see you in person now."

"I'm back tomorrow late afternoon."

"Good," he practically purrs.

"Think of something and we'll connect tomorrow when I get on the road. Good night, Jake. Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams, babe, I'll see you tomorrow."

You fling off the remaining clothing and throw it toward your overnight bag, deciding to sleep naked to cool your overheated skin. Sleep comes quickly with visions of a certain blonde pilot in your mind.

The next morning, you wake up and find a message from Jake on your phone.

Jake: How about I come over and cook you dinner? You're probably wanting some home cooked food.

You: That sounds amazing. I'm hoping to leave here by 1 pm. Why don't you head over to my house when you're done for the day and get started. There's a lock box in the garden shed with an extra key. The code is 1903.

Jake: Sounds good, do you like Italian?

Jake: 1903…the year the Orville Brothers took flight? That's your secret code? You delightful airplane nerd.

You: You'd be good at bar trivia. See you later.

Chapter 9

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

#top gun maverick #hangman fanfiction #hangman x you #hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun fanfiction #top gun smut

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theladysherlock · 9 months ago

Note

talk shop tuesday! incredible coincidence - i wanted to ask you more about your dnd OCs, and you posted a new art piece with one of them! continuing the theme: could you tell more about your dnd OCs and how they came to be?

Ohhhh you have opened Pandora's Box my friend!! I could talk about this topic all day.

Basically there's two parts to this: my approach to DnD in general, and in-depth explanations of the characters. I'm going to put this under a Read More to save everyone's Dash.

Part One: Dungeons and Dragons

So the thing I love most about DnD (and other TTRPGs) is that it's a collaborative game. I'm not responsible for the entirety of the story, I bring my character to the table and everyone else brings their characters and between us, the DM, and the dice, we figure out where the story is going. I enjoy it so much more than trying to come up with everything on my own. And I love that people can surprise me!! @mothmansbigfatass and @ahawkmet (my irl friends and in most of the campaigns I play) can attest, apparently I'm a lot of fun to watch during revelations because I always have a big reaction.

So when making a dnd character, it's important for me to know 1. What the world we'll be playing in is like, and 2. What everyone else is doing. Again, it's a collaborative game, so I want to make sure that I'm playing nice with the DM's world. AND often the setting itself will give me an idea (see Ethan: the game is set at a community college. What's a college stereotype that would be fun to play?). Ideally, the character I make would have a really hard time being plopped into a different campaign and have it still make sense. Secondly, it's more fun for me to play a class that will fill out the party. For example, if we already have a cleric, I don't also need to play a religious character. Those story beats are covered by someone else, I don't want to be competing with another person for cool moments.

Once those two things are settled, character creation is determined by what seems fun to play and what would be interesting aesthetically. I like to keep the backstory light to see what happens as we start playing, and then I can fill it in bit by bit later. Sometimes that bites me in the ass, though (see Ethan: I didn't give him birth parents and then they were incredibly important to the plot). I tend to have a general idea about who they are and what they're like, and then I always get surprised by what they actually end up acting like once we start playing. It's fun for me to figure them out along the way!

The last thing I wanna say about DnD (for now) is that I love everyone else's characters just as much. I just draw mine more because, well, they're mine. I feel weird putting their guys in situations and guessing how they'd react because they aren't my little guys. I much prefer working collaboratively with the other players (like an RP thread) to just writing a story on my own.

Part Two: Ethan

Where to even start with my boy. A bunch of my work friends got together to start a DnD game, and I hadn't played with most of them before so I wasn't sure what to expect. I also did not think the game would last very long, since most campaigns tend to fizzle out after a few sessions. So I made kind of a joke character with extremely little backstory: He's a half-orc, since I hadn't played that race before, he's a bard who is the captain of the local community college's Improv Team, he's "the kind of guy to play wonderwall at a party but you're not mad about it", and I said he's adopted by two men, neither of whom were his biological parents, and he wasn't particularly interested in tracking down his bio parents. This last point is for two reasons: one, I was trying to avoid just duplicating a Dimension 20's Gorgug, a half-orc who was adopted by gnomes and spent the whole first season trying to find his dad; and two, I was pushing an "Adopted parents are not less than biological parents" agenda.

My DM took this personally (affectionate). First session, I was given a clue about his birth parents' identities. From then on, Ethan was dragged kicking and screaming into being the unofficial main character of the campaign. His mom was one of our favorite NPCs, a kickass pirate with a truly tragic backstory who would always jump to help us out of a scrape. His biological dad was the human embodiment of Pride who had took on the form of Fantasy Harrison Ford and was an extremely famous actor in-world. Our BBEG was his uncle, the embodiment of Greed. Every plot point became very personal and it was a lot of fun. I also loved putting him through the wringer, so between me and the DM the poor guy couldn't catch a break.

Part of the dice telling the story, I rolled so bad all the time when I played Ethan. It didn't matter which dice I used, I just rolled really bad, which was not something that normally happened with me. So that was fun to incorporate into his character as we played-- he was insecure about his own abilities compared to the extremely powerful characters he was surrounded by (we had a 20 ft Earth Titan who was an extremely powerful Druid, Emeshka you will always be famous). So he became a more three-dimensional and actualized character the more we played.

He's extremely easy to put in situations and his character design is pretty solid, so I end up drawing him the most. My perfect little guy.

(Anything about him I've tagged either "Ethan" or "Big Yarr Energy" if you want to find more)

Part Three: Mina

After the campaign with Ethan wrapped up, we started a new one in a Cthulhu-inspired setting. My goal with making Mina was to do as close to a 180 as I could from Ethan. While Ethan was a friendly and charming but bad at most things, Mina is a competent and intelligent Druid who's blunt and overworked and doesn't quite know how to meaningfully engage with her party members (but she tries, bless her). Druid was one of the classes I hadn't played yet and I've been making my way through the list of available classes. The One-With-Nature stuff isn't super interesting to me as a player, but I found a homebrew subclass that was based more in Big Cities and as an Architecture Nerd that was much more my speed. Also, I hadn't played an Aasimar before, so that seemed like fun. From all that, I pulled together her whole deal: She was from a bloodline of guardian angels who were sent to protect different villages and towns, and she's gone from her mother's small town to being the guardian of a city of several million people and it's overwhelming. She's lonely and she's jaded and she's got severe Gifted Kid Syndrome and she's got her head on a swivel to make sure her party members are okay even if they don't like her very much and I love her.

I didn't give her a lot of tragic backstory because there are a lot of us playing and I wanted to have a character who could push the plot forward with her actions, instead of having a "now let's stop and talk about my life!!" moment every session that seemed to happen with Ethan. Give everyone else some time to have cool moments, you know? And by GOD are there some cool moments. My fellow players are so good at making compelling characters. Ask @mothmansbigfatass about Nelly if you get a chance.

We're still playing this campaign, although we're nearing the end of it. There's still space for some big moments for Mina in the game, though I'm hoping our DM lets me save hers for last. She's the kind of character to make sure everyone else is okay before taking care of herself, so it feels appropriate. I'm excited to see where Mina ends up. She's definitely a character I'll go back and write/draw a lot afterwards, though. Part of being in a group this size means there's a lot of stuff that just won't get covered. I'll have a lot of material to play with for my own work once we get to the next campaign.

(Anything about Mina I've tagged either "Mina" or "Cthulhu Crimes" if you want to find more)

Part Four: Jess

Jess is a character that isn't from DnD but is a TTRPG character of mine, and I like her so I'm going to talk about her too. Jess is a cautionary tale in Knowing Your Audience.

Jess is from a different group of players than Ethan and Mina. Our DM for that game is notorious for wanting to give us Big, Shonen-Style fight scenes and an insane level of power creep. Character interactions are fine, but his true passion is making us look like Goku.

Jess was... not built to look like Goku. In this world you could identify different types of magic users by their focus, and I wanted her whole schtick to be about deception. She looked like a wizard when she was actually a monk, she looked like a dumb blonde girl when she was extremely smart and good at stealing things, she's a dancer but her primary fighting style was based on capoeira, etc. Also part of why Jess sticks with me as a favorite character is the way I had her powers work was so fun and visually interesting that I haven't been able to shake it. Basically her superpower was that she could snatch bits of other people's powers and use them herself, and you could tell which ones she had because they would fill out spectral stained glass wings with specific colors.

Jess was (and still is, frankly) too complicated for the game our DM wanted to run. Immediately any hope of her being a chronic liar was dashed as her powers did not manifest in a way that could possibly pass off as being a wizard. So instead of being sneaky, Jess became very angry. She was quick to point out injustices in the world we were in. She beat up creeps, she yelled at bigots, she stole powers from macho superheroes trying to one-up her. She had to get a lot less complicated for the story we were in, but the complicated version of her still lives in my head and I like to see what she's up to from time to time.

(I don't think I have anything tagged for Jess, unfortunately)

TL; DR:

TTRPG characters are fun because they let me do my favorite thing creatively, which is bounce ideas off of other people. I typically design them based on the setting, party needs, character tropes that I think are interesting, and just general vibes. Most importantly, though, I don't have a fleshed out character without the input of the other players.

#talk shop Tuesday #good LORD that's a lot of words #I'm incapable of shutting up it seems. ah well #I can tell more stories about them though. I should bring back the story times #I think the last one I posted was over a year ago #ANYWAY thank you for the ask!

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