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cybernaght · 1 year ago

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The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain

As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.

This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.

Part one. Fanon.

The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe.

Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”.

(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)

Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours.

And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.

(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)

We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we?

Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals.

Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.

(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)

The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.

Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation.

So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.

I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth.

Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space.

Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality.

Part two. Microanalysis

Here are my two suppositions on the matter:

1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling.

Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season.

Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal.

2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.

And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal.

Too much metaphor?

Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.

Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.

If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works.

If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time.

As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever.

So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.

Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding.

But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.

One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs.

Part three. The Conspiracy Brain.

If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.

So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?

One, Because We Have Been Lied To.

All conspiracies start with distrust.

If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another.

We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership.

And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.

(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)

Two, Cognitive Dissonance.

The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.

Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:

A) this is not good

B) this author could not have made a mistake

C) this must be done on purpose

D) here is why

(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)

This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another.

Three, Intentionality

I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.

However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed.

The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.

It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media.

When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.

If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.

(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)

And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic.

But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking.

Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way.

Four, Wildfire.

Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness.

Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here.

So where are we now?

I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all.

All I am saying is… listen.

Do you hear that echo?

I do.

#fandom thoughts #fanon #good omens #good omens 2 #bbc sherlock #merlin bbc #think piece #it's been years and I still have no idea how to tag #conspiracy theories #fandom content #all fandoms

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nicromancytarot · 9 months ago

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WHAT DOES YOUR PERSON WANT TO DO TO YOU? 18+ themes.

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what the person you’re thinking about would do to you if they could, this was crazy so pick a picture to find out!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

Bro’s fantasising, I put my music on shuffle and got this one song which triggered a memory of when I had a crush on this girl and sat in the car staring out of the window creating scenarios about her to the song lmao, so I feel as though your person may be on the same wavelength as me.

My entire body hurt during this reading, I was having full body channeling which was crazy for me, but as soon as I wrote down that my back and stomach were killing me, the pain went away, so your person may want to metaphorically break your back and possibly even get you pregnant, I was also randomly sweating like crazy so it’s gonna be steamy when they get to have you, I feel like you guys will be going for multiple rounds until both of you are absolutely exhausted and can’t take anymore.

Not going to lie, I see this being someone from the past? #Fuckexes. (Not literally.)

Firstly they may stalk your social media or keep tabs on you, I notice someone gasping at the others breasts if you have those, if they have breast than I’m pretty sure you love them, this is the type of conversation when someone can’t stop looking at the others breasts and is barely paying attention to the conversation.

They wanna watch you play with yourself, they may even want you to send them a video of you touching yourself.

For some of you I can see that they like butt-play, and they like having from behind cus they really enjoy your butt and shoulders, they may like to leave kisses or hickeys on the back of your shoulders. They may also only really see you in a room full of people romantically, but I do get senses that this person may have or might cheat if you were or get into a relationship.

PILE 2

They wanna wine and dine you prior to having sex with you, and I think that they also want to learn what you’re into and have a long winded conversation about both of your boundaries. They also really enjoy your breasts, or you enjoy theirs, I can see that either of you may want to leave a lot of kisses or hickeys there; maybe even for other people to see if you or they enjoy wearing low cut shirts and dresses.

They seem very gentle and worry about your pleasure more than their own, they do want to do some type of butt stuff with you. (What is it with the butt stuff today?) They want to eat the booty or go the full way with it.

At the end they want you to reward their hard efforts with some good ole’ head.

PILE 3

They want to offer a relationship before having sex with you, I do get the vibe that this could be a future spouse who picks you up after heartbreak as we have both the 4 of wands and the 3 of swords. This is the tile of sex that has you forgetting about all the bad things in your life and in the world.

There’s only one card in the spread where she’s not covering her stomach and it’s while she’s watching him count his money so you may only think about getting pregnant after you know they have enough money to sustain you and the baby (they do, they live a life of luxury.) Or you may show them that you have enough money before they think of allowing you to get them pregnant.

They want to take you from behind, finally we have a pile that doesn’t refer to butt-play (amen.) They’re pretty masculine so they would want to take over all of the masculine roles.

You may find them sneaking a glance at your breasts when you first meet.

#pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot cards #daily tarot

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quickstappen · 3 months ago

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track 001: end of the beginning

A/N: hello, welcome to another smau i guess, enjoy? this is the real reason why the latest part of carved my name was up so late yall ;) oscar won his first race and i had to do something!! i'm sorry to all the carlos fans, but someone's gotta be the bad guy, yk?

masterlist | next

december 2020

liked by prema_team, arthur_leclerc and others

paola_sainz I can't believe it is time to go, it still doesn't feel real. Thank you for those amazing years together, for the memories and happiness, I couldn't wish for better team, better friends, I love you all and I'll miss you tremendously. Cheers to the next chapter in our lives.

see all comments...

prema_team We'll miss you vice-champ! Make sure to visit when you're around ❤️

↳ paola_sainz of course! I'll visit so much you'll get sick of me ;)

sainzssss_ noooooooo, what???

shithappens what. the. fuck.

carlossainz55 Excited for your new journey! Now you can spend more time in my garage 🔥😎

↳ paola_sainz yeah, im so excited too!

↳ quickstappen this seems... dry

↳ albono_23 right???

ilpredestinatox oh noo! you were the reason i decided to follow my dreams and go to college for mechanical engineering, i can't believe you're not gonna be racing anymore

↳ paola_sainz oh sweetie, i'm so glad you're following your dreams! dm me if you have any enfeneering problems - i can ask around and get back to you ;)

↳ nyoomf1 she's so sweet 🥹

arthur_leclerc I'll miss your annoying face you know? (only a tiny bit)

↳ paola_sainz acting like you won't see me at basically every race anyway (i'll miss you too) 🤍

↳ arthur_leclerc 🤍

february 2024

liked by arthur_leclerc, jensonbutton and others

paola_sainz does it ever drive you crazy...?

3 years ago i was broken beyond recognition, i lost my purpose and will to carry on, i thought that without racing i was noone. to think that the same girl just sold out her first collection of athletic wear is absolutely crazy, i can't believe how far we've come and i can't wait to see what else we can do

see all comments...

carlando333 girl 💀💀

↳ ilpredestinatox what do you mean, tf

↳ carlando333 Carlos literally just lost his seat for next year

↳ ilpredestinatox well, this is not carlos' page is it? she's not his keeper, she's allowed to be her own person

cuddlyxricc can she like,, read the room?

byelandoo lol, she does not care about the ferrari drama AT ALL

carlove55 are you gonna comment on the carlos situation??

shithappens she looked so happy when she was racing 🥺 i still can't accept that i'll never see her in a f1 car

↳ quickstappen right??

arthur_leclerc i am going to model the next collection

↳ paola_sainz don't know if you've noticed, but i make WOMEN'S athletic wear

↳ arthur_leclerc you just don't want to see me slay

↳ paola_sainz do not say slay ever again

charlosp1 💀

spanishxbabe so Carlos means nothing to you?

jensonbutton So proud! Brittany loves her set 🧡

↳ paola_sainz 🧡

charles_leclerc Knew you could do it Lola 🤍

↳ paola_sainz thank you for believing in me Charlie 🤍

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and others

paola_sainz oh baby, how good to see you again!

(also, charles_leclerc go and win me a race please, i don't know how many forza ferrari sempre's i have left in me)

see all comments...

shithappens i'm sorry, is that a man? with my wife?

quickstappen queen is back in paddock!

arthur_leclerc so the ones with me in them were not good enough to make it, but the random one with him tying you're shoelaces made it?

↳ paola_sainz guess so, try harder next time

screwderriaf1 she's so real for that, Charles for WDC2024

↳ ilpredestinatox GIRL, be so fr rn

↳ screwderriaf1 just let me dream man

carlando333 oh come on! she doesn't care about carlos at all! fucking snake, thinking she's better than him🐍

logansargeant nice of you to visit old friends

↳ paola_sainz we're literally going for lunch tomorrow?

↳ sheilaxf1 they know each other??

↳ lewibear yeahh, since her time at prema i'm pretty sure

charles_leclerc Yeah, no pressure right

↳ paola_sainz you know it ;)

charlosp1 did she really say that she wishes that charles won and not her brother who's fighting for his future this season 💀

redmilton Paola Sainz soft launching a white man in the year 2024 was not on my bingo card

cuddlyxricc sorry but first no comment on carlos' seat and now this? yeah no, not cool

elmatadorf1 traitor! rooting for charles when your brother lost his seat because of him 🐍

madi_races is my girlfriend in a relationship with a.... man??

predestined55 absolutely no honour, not surprised tbh after seeing who she hangs out with 🐍

darth_nando can we please stop mentioning Carlos in every comment section under her posts? it's so unnecessary

paola's messages:

YouTube, Screaming Meals | now playing:

↳ 01:52s - - - > - 04:37s

↳ 21:46s - - - > - 29:31s

↳ 52:14s - - - >- 1:08:11s

paola's messages:

madi's radio: okay look, the text between Spanish speakers.... i do not know Spanish and putting entire conversations through google translate is not the best, so let's just pretend they're in Spanish, yeah?

click here to be added to the hiding in the seams taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

#f1 smau #ferrari f1 #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #arthur leclerc #f2 smau #f1 instagram au #oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri smau #f1 x oc

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m00neroni · 2 months ago

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prompt: patronus. @wolfstarmicrofic word count: 739 september 8th ao3 post

“This is impossible” Sirius huffs and sits back in one of the few scattered chairs around the DADA classroom, clearly defeated. “What’s that shit about happy memories? Fucking idiotic, it’s not even working.”

“Have we finally found a spell that not even the great Sirius Black can perform? Should we call the Prophet? Inform the Ministry?” James jokes from his seat at Remus’ right, and he only receives a glare in return, when any other person would have been hexed into the next year just before they finished the sentence.

Remus considers it a bit hypocritical, seeing as James is also struggling with it, only having managed to conjure a faint silvery mist, the same as Peter. Remus, for his part, hasn’t even tried yet, scared of its possible corporal form.

Still, he knows the drill and can help his friend.

“You’re thinking too much and too loud, Sirius.” He says, kindly, because the other boy’s frustration is too evident and it seems like the best approach. “Which memory are you using?”

“When the Hat sent me to Gryffindor.” Sirius replies, almost in a whisper, genuinely pouting like a baby.

“See? That’s the problem.” Remus says. “That memory isn’t good enough.”

“Why not?” His friend frowns, clearly confused but he doesn’t look hurt or offended. “It’s the happiest memory I can think of.”

“But it’s tainted, Pads.” He presses, not unkindly, and leans forward to touch Sirius’ forearm. “You were stressed and worried and your family were horrible just about twenty minutes later it happened. You need something without negative connotations.”

“Excellent piece of advice, Mr Lupin!” Professor Musgrove’s voice hollers from behind them. “Our chosen memories must be as pure as possible, free of bad feelings. Even if we think happiness is overruling them, sometimes the hurt is too sharp to be defeated. Please, my boy and resident assistant teacher, will you demonstrate the spell to the class?”

“Sir, I don’t–”

“I insist!” The man ignores him. “Your theoretical knowledge should be enough, and you clearly are in control of your feelings.”

Yeah, I wish I was, you twat.

Remus grimaces towards his friends, trying not to notice how Sirius is staring right into his eyes, and stands up. He should have shut up, but Sirius needed his help and he just… Whatever now, too late.

The werewolf closes his eyes and tries to find a good memory, quickly falling for the morning of the first Full Moon after his three mates knew what happened to him once a month, about the monster. After the moment they accepted him completely, and without asking anything in return. It might go against the idea of it not being tainted by bad sensations (the transformation is horrible on its own, obviously) but the happiness he felt when he woke up and saw Sirius sleeping in that uncomfortable chair right next to his bed.

The others have joined here and there, but Sirius has always been the constant feature. It is he who Remus thinks about for this.

“Expecto Patronum.”

He would have known it had worked even without the collective gasp of his classmates, just by how the air moves around him and the tip of his fingers tickle. It is a wonderful sensation, so, even if he is scared shitless of facing the reality and whatever comes next, Remus opens his eyes slowly.

The silvery figure is clearly and evidently canine and massive, but that is where the similarities with Moony end. The snout is different, the ears bigger and the paws less menacing. Even the doggy grin is an exact replica of Padfoot’s.

Remus’ hearts stop for a second there, but he can’t look anywhere else, too entranced and shocked by the implications.

“Amazing! Look at that–!”

“Expecto Patronum.”

Sirius’ deep voice cuts the air and the teacher’s praising, conjuring a mist that quickly takes form almost as big as the one in front of Remus, a shape that he hasn’t seen in front of him ever in his life but has been described enough to him that Remus could recognise anywhere. The eyes, though, are the exact same ones he sees in the mirror every day, and he has almost a full minute to be shocked before the impressive spirit of Moony joins Padfoot in a tackle game.

“Well, who could have expected this?” James chuckles, and Remus finally looks at Sirius.

Who could have expected this, indeed.

#marauders #harry potter #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #marauders microfic #wolfstar microfic #patronus #soulmates #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #marauders era #marauders tumblr #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #mooneroni writes

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explicit-tae · 9 months ago

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Love You (Just A Little Too Much)

You're brought down memory lane and come face to face with someone you've completely forgotten about. @bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111 @minshookie29 @whipwhoops

Warning: smut, light yandere, teasing, sex toy usage, sub/dom, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, crying, restraints/bound, mentions of assault, manipulation, sadistic/masochistic tendencies, crying/sobbing, begging, slapping,

Word Count: 6.076

Valentine's Day Masterlist

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes blink at Jay, your boyfriend, and you could only offer a faint smile. “I don’t want to ruin dinner with my thoughts.” you reply. You drop your fork and grasp your glass of wine.

Jay scoffs. “I can tell your head isn’t here,” he says. “Come on, tell me.”

You swallow your wine and lick your lips. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Jay raises a brow and leans in closer. He smirks. “So?” he murmurs. “I’m your boyfriend, you know. You can tell me what’s on your mind.”

Jay was correct - he was your boyfriend and someone you’ve grown close to for the last year. You were able to speak with him freely as if he was your best friend and it came naturally even if he was the opposite sex.

You sigh and nod your head. “You’re right.” you say. “I…haven’t talked to any of my friends in months. It’s like we all slowly just…”

“Grew apart?” Jay offers and when you nod, so does he. “I understand. What do you think happened?”

You shrug your shoulders. You’re unsure yourself of the reason. There wasn’t any bad blood between the four of you - there was nothing that could be done to a group of friends that has been established since middle school. You all managed to make it through High School and college without breaking apart.

Sure, there were a few petty arguments, but nothing that lasted months - hell, not even a full week.

Not speaking with them collectively had you nervous, but you were all adults. You four lived separate adult lives, Jang-Mi having moved hours away to start a new job. Minji had gotten married and divorce all under three years and had chosen to distract herself with work while Mi-sun focused on raising her daughter on her lonesome.

“And you haven’t spoken to either of them on the phone?” Jay questions.

“No.” you shake your head. “Only through text messages, but even those seem dry. Maybe I’m just overreacting.” you shake your head and release a humorless laugh. “Sorry. Today is supposed to be about us.”

Jay shakes his head. He offers you his hand and you take it. His hands are always soft, you notice, softer than yours. He presses a kiss onto your hand, soft lips tickling your skin. “It is about us.” Jay murmurs. “Today is our anniversary,” he continues. “but you’re still the woman I love and if somethings on your mind, I want you to talk about it.”

You love Jay - and this was one of the many reasons why. He was caring - genuinely caring. He always puts your wants and needs far beyond his own. A year isn’t a long time to be together for most people, but for you it was. You couldn’t see yourself being with another man, not when Jay was amazing as he was.

You met Jay a year prior while out, having bumped into one another. Literally. You recall the way your phone went flying and you nearly fell onto the ground when a pair of arms caught you - said arms had let you go immediately when you regained your balance. “I-I didn’t mean to grab you it’s-” the stranger began. “I’m so sorry I should’ve been looking where I was going.” you apologized profusely.

You learned that his name was Jay and as an apology, he asked you out for coffee. The two of you hit it off easily as he was a nice person to talk to. He was funny as he was kind and in the short time that you’ve known him, it was as if you and he knew one another for years.

Maybe Jay’s physical appearance helped a little - he was tall and fit. He dressed appropriately each time you and him met and he even offered to help you dress so the two of you matched for the occasion. His skin was the clearest you’ve ever seen on a man and appeared utterly glass and he had such perfect teeth.

It was hard in the beginning to be seen with Jay simply because of how beautiful he was, but he always made it known just how beautiful he thought you were and how much he appreciated you for being by his side.

“So,” Jay offers you a toothy grin. “talk to me like I’m your friend and not your boyfriend.”

You do, a part of you feels terrible about doing this while at dinner with him, but Jay was an understanding person. He could tell your head was elsewhere.

You tell Jay about everything - how you rarely saw your friends face to face and how you couldn’t even remember the last time you all spoke on the phone. You wanted to be understanding because the four of you were adults now and didn’t need to spend every waking moment together - but a call wasn’t asking for much.

At the end of it all, Jay is nodding his head in agreement. He hasn’t spoken much and instead decided to allow you to vent all your pent up frustrations.

“Felt good?” Jay snickers and you nod with a low grin. “I’m glad. I can’t excuse your friends' behaviors but I can try to see things from their point of view.”

You listen as Jay speaks.

“We’re all adults going through our adult lives. Jang-Mi had moved so far away it’s hard to go back into the routine you two had when she was closer. I’m sure she works long hours.”

You nod your head with a sigh, your heart sinking as you begin to feel bad for thinking that your friends were leaving you behind.

“Mi-sun is a mother and it’s tough raising a child on your own. She just doesn't live for herself anymore. Minji probably buries herself into work to get her mind off of the divorce. It wasn’t an…easy one.”

You recall the amount of times Minji had called you throughout the last year about how ultimately, she was going to be left with nothing after the divorce - Jay had been there the entire time listening as you tried to console your friend.

“You’re right.” you pick up your wine glass and take a sip. “We’ve all been through…so much.”

Jay raises a brow. “What do you mean?”

You eye him for a moment.

“I think it’s karma.” you shrug your shoulders. “We were terrible people in our youth.” you try to joke but you swallow thickly. “What we’re going through now is just what we deserve.”

Jay chuckles. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” he takes a sip of his own wine.

“Before I met you my life was going to shit. I couldn’t keep a job to save my life and…” there wasn’t a need to focus on what you were going through at that moment because Jay knew. “..you helped me. Sometimes I believe I don’t deserve you.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Y/N.” Jay sighs, but his lips stretch into a smile. “Don’t get too emotional on me.” he jokes.

“I know…” you trail off. “The divorce with Minji and how she had to work so hard to get her life together. Jang-Mi left and got a new job hours away because of that scandal. Mi-sun had to raise a child all alone without any help that wasn’t us. I can’t sound crazy to believe our past actions had shaped our future.”

Jay is quiet as he hears you speak, so eerily silent that you glance away from him. “Or maybe I am crazy.” you murmur. “You aren’t.” Jay shakes his head. “Whatever…you did in your past could have shaped the present. Truth is often stranger than fiction.” Jay grasps your hand into his own. “But you’re better now, Y/N. With me. You’ll never fall as long as I’m by your side.”

Jay gives you a smile that has your heart clenching.

The room is beautiful and you are positive that Jay put a lot of thought into decorating it for you. The amount of rose petals leading up to the bed was one gesture you loved, but also the candles that were lit. You pondered when he had time to do such a thing.

Jay wraps an arm around you and brings you closer to him. His lips are soft as they kiss along your neck. “I love this color on you.” Jay compliments, his hand sliding your sides. “Black is lovely against your skin.”

Your body flushes at the compliment and you could only giggle, giddy at the way your heart jumps. Jay insisted on you wearing the lingerie - a black lace and mesh material that leaves little to the imagination. The stockings are high and stop mid thigh.

“I like this color on you.” you tell Jay. He’s dressed down from his suit from early. Now, he sports a silk, red robe that’s tightly loosely around him. His tan skin peaks from beneath it.

“Valentine’s Day is all about you. I want to make you feel good.” Jay kisses down your neck towards your collarbone, leaving slightly wet kisses. “I want to try something new.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when being told “something new”. You were laid onto the bed you share with Jay, his lips continuing to kiss down your body. His eyes flicker upwards at you and he offers a mischievous grin that has your legs quivering.

“Something new” wasn't a robe tied tightly around your wrist and keeping you bound against your bed frame. You wouldn’t lie and say your body wasn’t filled with excitement - you and Jay never did this and sex was already enjoyable enough.

Jay licks his lips, his eyes meeting your curious ones. “You’re so beautiful. Always has been.” he murmurs, speaking aloud by himself.

Jay forces your legs open, his hand wrapping more rope around your ankles that he then ties to the end of the bed frame. He proceeds to do the same thing to your free leg.

“I can see how wet you are now.” Jay’s voice is deep and sultry, slowly consumed with his own lust. “You’ve always been the submissive type. The type to do whatever is asked of you.”

Jay’s hand trails teasingly up your leg, his fingertips feeling like feathers tickling your skin.

Jay’s finger taps lightly at your clothed clit, smirking at you teasingly. His index forces itself through the mesh material and he slides it to the side. “So wet.” he murmurs. “Relax, baby. I have something you’d like.”

Your pussy clenches with anticipation and your eyes watch Jay get up from the bed. He goes to the side of the bed and appears to go through a bag.

“I want you to feel good.” Jay says, turning towards you. Once more, your pussy clenches at the sight of the vibrator in the palm of his hand. “You’d let me, right?”

Hastily you nod your head, licking your lips with anticipation.

Jay turns on the vibrator and it’s loud, the buzzing noise tingling through your ears. He places it on your thigh to tease you and it does so greatly. He slides it across your thigh closer and closer between your legs.

“Baby?” Jay hums, gently pressing the vibrator against your clit. “There’s no lies between us, right?”

Your legs begin to shake at the vibrators pressure against your clit. “N-No.” you stutter out.

“Then you’d tell me what you and your friends did, right?” Jay questions, pressing the vibrator even harder against you.

You struggle against the rope restraints. “W-What are you talking about?” you sigh - more like a moan. Your stomach was bubbling and you couldn’t contain the rest of the moans releasing from your mouth.

“Remember earlier…you said it must be karma why your lives have turned the way they did.” Jay begins to circle the vibrator against your clit. You’re so wet that it’s now fully coated in your sweet arousal. “Tell me what you’ve done that karma has come before you all?”

You aren’t sure what Jay is getting at and why he suddenly wanted to do this now. Your toes begin to curl.

Jay removes the vibrator from your swollen bud, his eyes dark with lust. “Tell me.” he demands.

“I-I…nothing.” you shake your head, panting. Your lack of pleasure sends shock waves through your body. “Why are you-”

Your throat releases a shriek when the vibrator is brought back to your clit. Your eyes shut tightly as, once more, your thigh shakes. “Please-”

“You know,”Jay begins, circling the vibrator against you. “There’s four types of lies.”

“Jay…” the way you say his name causes his cock to jump in his pants. You’re full of lust and pleasure and he’s sure you’re not fully able to comprehend him.

“A white lie, a gray lie, a black lie and a red lie.” Jay continues. “A white lie is to first seek to help others. A gray lie is an in between; to partly help others and ourselves.”

Your toes begin to curl as Jay continues.

“A black lie…” Jay trails off, his eyes boring into your face. Your eyes are clenched shut and you’re panting. “...is pure selfishness. Nothing is gained from others when a black lie is told and it is used to purely get the liar out of trouble.”

Jay removes the vibrator once more and this time you cry out in protest. Your eyes snap open, sadden as you peer at Jay.

“You’re such a whore, Y/N.” he chuckles cruely, his demeanor changed from the caring boyfriend of just an hour early. Your body yearns for him regardless of this act. “You’re about to cry.”

“I just wanna cum, Jay.” you murmur in defeat.

“Yeah?” Jay comes closer to your face. “A red lie…” Jay places the vibrator against your clit, this time pressing the buttons on the side to increase the power. “...is done solely out of spite. Revenge. To harm others.”

Your eyes never leave his, even with the amount of blinking you’re doing to remain conscious. You’re groaning now, body shaking with pleasure.

“Can you guess which one I am, baby?”

What?

“If you guess right, I’ll let you cum.”

Your breathing increases and the only thing you can think about is cumming. “W-White.”

“Wrong.” Jay turns off the vibrator, but keeps it against your clit. “Can you guess which type of liar you are?”

“Jay…” you shake your head. This act was making you impatient. “Please-”

“Tell me, Y/N. If you’ve done nothing in your past, then why have you and your friends gone through such terrible karma?”

“This act you’re doing is too much, Jay.”

“What act?” Jay scoffs. “Since you don’t know, baby. You’re a black liar. You’re selfish and you’re deflecting from your own involvement in the past.”

Your eyebrows knit together. “Jay…that isn’t funny-”

The vibrator turns on once more, shocking you.

“As for me, I’m a red liar. None of you recognized me.” Jay speaks in a tone - monotone like; narrative. “You didn’t recognize Jay. Minji didn’t recognize Jung-ho. Mi-sun didn’t recognize Jong-seok and Jang-Mi never recognized Ju-ho…”

Jung-ho.

Jong-seok.

Ju-ho.

Jay.

“Jay…?” your intentions aren’t to moan, but you cannot help it. Jay is pressing the vibrator with such pressure that even now in this unknown situation, you cannot help but want to cum hard.

Just as you were about to cum, you cry out once more when the vibrator cuts off. You’re trembling, your wrist burning as the friction of the robe rubs against them.

“My name’s not Jay, Y/N. You know my name.”

Your eyes widen slowly. “Stop.” you plead with Jay. “It isn’t funny anymore…”

“I never told you a joke.” Jay scoffs. “Look at me and tell me you don’t remember who I am, Y/N.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as goosebumps begin to erupt onto your skin. Your heart is beating outside your chest and you wished Jay would flip the switch and return to the boyfriend you know and love.

“Look. At. Me.” Jay grits out each word with such venom, his cheerful personality long gone. “It’s been a decade since High School but have I truly changed that much, Y/N?”

You remain silent, your eyes remain on the man in front of you.

“I had to change schools because of what your friends said I did.” Jay murmurs, and as the words hit your ears your eyes begin to widen.

Mi-sun lifts her hand up and hums, tilting her head. “I think I want pink.” she says. “But a soft pink, not a hot one.”

Jang-Mi snorts.

Mi-sun raises a brow at Jang-Mi, but she doesn’t respond.

“Like this one?” Minji asks after rummaging through her tote of beauty items. She holds up a bright pink color - taffy.

Mi-sun nods with excitement.

You sit and listen to the exchange, head in Jang-Mi’s lap.

You were all in Mi-sun’s room, a room that was overly pink, but neither of the girls in the friend group complained. Her walls were white, but her bed - a large queen size that sat in the middle of her room - had a bubblegum pink comforter set with matching pillows. While her floors were hardwood, the rugs inside of her room were round and flamingo colored.

“So,” Jang-Mi starts. “What is this year's dare?”

You sighed deeply, ready to hear just what the hell your friends had planned for you this year.

Every year your group of friends would dare one another to do something - anything - at the start of the school year. It was a tradition, after all, spawning since primary school.

The year prior, Mi-sun had dared Minji to walk in the boys locker-room “accidentally” and shower just minutes before the boys were done with their practice. Minji was the daredevil of the group and accepted it without a problem - even if she did have a months worth of detention and had several boys profess their “undying love” for her.

While Minji’s dare were dare-devil like, Jang-Mi’s were spontaneous. Her dare the year prior was to smoke bomb the teacher lounge - that earned her two months of detention (thanks to her uncle being the principal).

“You,” Minji points to you. “And you,” she then points to Mi-sun. “Need to step it up. Jang-Mi and I always do the impulsive dares!”

You lick your lips. “My dare last year was pretty impulsive.”

It wasn’t. The dare you agreed upon was to egg the principal's car - you weren’t caught and maybe that’s what they were upset about. Your poor principal was going through it and his niece never appeared to care much.

Jang-Mi rolls her eyes and snickers. “Egging a car is pretty impulsive.” she says with a hint of sarcasm.

“Okay, let’s start then.” Minji claps her hands together. “Jang-Mi, I dare you…” Minji hums, her mind wandering as to what she would possibly say. “It’s like we’ve done everything already.”

“We have.” Jang-mi looks down at you. “This year is about you and Mi-sun.”

Mi-sun finishes painting her right hand and she raises a brow. “No fair.”

“Too bad.” Jang-Mi smirks.

“I agree.” Minji smiles wide. “We have to think of something good. So we’ll start tomorrow.”

Your stomach churns at the thought of them coming up with something impulsive - it was your last year of highschool after all.

Mi-sun rolls her eyes. “I’m not scared.” she snaps.

“I’m scared.” Mi-sun hisses, hands trembling with wide eyes.

“Pussy.” Jang-Mi giggles.

There was a few minutes before class started and it was as if Jang-Mi and Minji were ready to start the day off with a bang.

“It’s not like it’s that difficult.” Minji hisses. “Just go ahead and kiss him.”

“You dared her to kiss a professor.” you deadpan - but you’re glad this dare wasn’t yours. Minji and Jang-mi had claimed they hadn't come up with anything yet.

The yet scares you.

Said professor walks by - Professor Song. He’s tall, dark brown hair with matching eyes. He’s young, only a few years older than those he is teaching and an obvious eye-candy for the female students. He nods his head and waves at a few students as he strolls pass and Jang-Mi proceeds to push Mi-sun forward.

You gulp. This dare was a risky one. It was just a kiss yes, but this was a kiss between someone that had authority. Professor Song could lose his job - and teaching career - if this went the wrong way.

Professor Song hisses at the impact of Mi-sun knocking into him. His glasses are knocked off of his face and it drops onto the ground beside him. He lowers himself to grab it and Mi-sun bites her lip before doing the dare.

Mi-sun presses her lips against Professor Song’s. It was a quick peck, but it stuns the man nonetheless. He stumbles back a bit and before he could speak, Mi-sun is running down the hall to her classroom with Jang-Mi, Minji and you following close behind. Jang-Mi and Minji are laughing while you’re too bewildered to speak.

“That. Was. So. Humiliating!” Mi-sun hisses as she reaches the classroom. Class was about to start and her face was as red as a tomato. “I swear if I’m expelled-”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Minji shrugs it off. She reaches her desk - besides Mi-sun, and sits.

“Uncle knows of our yearly dares.” Jang-mi assures. “He should be expecting this by now.”

You take your seat behind Jang-mi.

“Now all that is left is our little Y/N.” Jang-Mi turns and offers a wide grin. “Aren’t you excited?”

No, but you wouldn’t cower before them.

“Whatever.” you grunt.

Your teacher comes strutting in. He’s a short older man with a large gut - a beer gut you’re certain. His arms are as skinny as his legs and his face is similar to a skeleton. You never even see the man eat, but he always had a water bottle in his hands that smells of vodka when he opens it.

“Kim Mi-sun.” he calls as he slams down a black briefcase. “Office.” he says without looking at the body of students. He takes a seat at his desk and Mi-sun groans with annoyance.

“That was fast.” Minji giggles quietly. “It hasn’t even been ten minutes.”

“Fuck off.” Mi-sun hisses. She gathers her things and makes her way out of the classroom just as more students are scurrying inside.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Your eyes lift to see the source of the greeting and you offer a small - very small and uninterested - smile to the boy seated a few desks in front of you.

Jang-Mi watches the exchange and she turns her head to Minji. She wiggles her eyebrows and tilts her head to the boy.

“Who’s that?” she mouths.

Jang-mi shrugs. “Not sure.” she mouths back. “Y’N’s dare.”

Minji furrows a brow, eyes shining with realization. She erupts in a fit of giggles that causes Jang-Mi to do the same.

Your fingers twirl a piece of your hair as your eyes watch him a few seats away from you. Your ears catch the whispered conversation of your friends besides you.

"When are you going to say something?" asks Mi-sun with a roll of her eyes. "The dare was a week ago."

Your gum pops dramatically after Mi-sun's question. You manage to roll your own eyes, but you don't take them off of him - Jung Hoseok. His cheeks are childishly chubby, he was tall, but thin - even for a senior in high school. He wore braces and you couldn't imagine him without them - they have been implanted in his teeth for years now.

You were no fool to Jung Hoseok's crush on you. You noticed the side eyes he'd give you in class. When your eyes met his, his eyes would blink away, and his cheeks would turn to a deep crimson. It was cute, you thought, pathetically so. As did your friends. They would laugh each time they saw Hoseok looking at you, claiming that he was nothing but a lost, kicked puppy. You'd laugh along with them even if you did see the embarrassed look on his face.

Your friends enjoyed teasing Hoseok so much that they thought it would be an amazing idea for you - his crush - to go along with the teasing. "Ask him out. Lead him on." suggested Mi-sun. "Then break his sad, pathetic heart." laughs Jang-Mi.

You thought about their request. You never spoke to Hoseok before and never had the reason or desire to. What you knew of Hoseok was that he was smart, not straight A smart like most, but he passed his classes. He wasn't popular when it came to friend groups and opted to stay to himself or a small set of friends.

"Oh my..." Minji hums, she leans back into her chair and crosses her arms. She just cut her long, black locs to a sharp bob. The new appearance makes her much more intimidating. "...you like him." she declares.

"I do not." your eyes glance to Minji hurriedly. "I just...he's a loser."

Mi-sun giggles and agrees.

"I don't want to be associated with a loser." you reach into your uniform skirt pocket and remove a small tube of lipgloss. You proceed to coat your lips slowly with the glossy substance, eyes on Hoseok just in time for his eyes to meet yours. His eyes glance down to your lips - plump and coated - and his cheeks flush.

Minji cackles, followed by Mi-sun and Jang-Mi. Hoseok's head snaps away and you know he's mentally cursing at himself.

"Look at him." Minji scoffs with a shake of her head, appearing to have pity for Hoseok. "He is a loser."

"Much the more reason to play with him." Jang-Mi singsongs. She was always the much more mischievous type in the friendship. She enjoyed playing tricks and pranks, no matter how cruel they were. Min-sun would be considered the "ditzy" one of the group, but she was just as mischievous as Jang-Mi, maybe even more.

You can feel their eyes on you now. Min-sun bats her eyelashes, cat-like eyes stabbing holes into you. Jang-Mi tilts her head impatiently awaiting your response while Minji does nothing but glare.

"If you don't, I will." Jang-Mi smirks, and now you're shaking your head. Hoseok wasn't an asshole like the rest of the boys at this school. He didn't deserve whatever cruel prank Jang-Mi would surely throw his way.

"I'll do it." you roll your eyes and laugh. You proceed to bite your lip. "I'm sure it'll be fun."

Fun it was. You started the following day, but you remained subtle. It would cause alarms to go off in Hoseok's mind if you casually strolled up to him and became flirtatious. You didn't want to scare him off - especially if Jang-Mi's words of Hoseok being a virgin rang true. You had a plan, instead. Hoseok and you shared multiple classes and in each one, you would offer him a small smile. Your smile soon became a short wave that he would return - after looking around to ensure you were indeed waving at him and not someone else.

Minji had grown bored of the slow burn happening before her. When you had strolled into class and ready to sit at your desk, she had slammed her foot against your chair and shook her head. She jerks her head to the side, and you follow her gaze - a desk directly next to Hoseok remains empty.

You took a deep breath and nodded.

You drop your bag at your new desk, startling the box next to you. His eyes slowly reached to who was beside him. His eyes catch your legs, smooth and seemingly soft. He drags them forward slowly until they notice your eyes. He freezes, heart thumping outside his chest.

"Is this seat taken?" you ask lowly, a smirk forming on your glossy lips.

Hoseok shakes his head but remains quiet. His palms grow sweaty, and he's worried suddenly if he remembered to wear deodorant.

You sit beside him, eyes glancing to Minji who raises a brow at you, nodding her head. You weren't going to be able to go back to your regular seat until you did something to get closer to Hoseok.

Class starts and you go without speaking with Hoseok, even if you do notice his eyes glancing your way every few minutes. However, you understood your part in this assignment. You'd accidentally - purposely - would brush your knee on his and apologize with a cute smile. You'd proceed to lean closer towards him so your side would briefly touch his.

Hoseok's mind was going crazy the following weeks. You continued to sit beside him day by day. Your touching now was much less subtle and he's unsure of what to take of it. You never appeared to be interested in him before. He was no idiot - he was certain you caught on to his crush on you. Maybe that's why - you pitied him and his pathetic crush.

"H-huh?" Hoseok blinks a few times and shakes his head. His cheeks are tinted red with further embarrassment.

"I said," you grasp your bag and lean forward. The bell rang and it was time for lunch, but Hoseok was far too in his thoughts to notice. "do you want to come home with me?"

Your breast peaked through the uniform top and Hoseok nearly fainted at your words. He's tongue tied and soon you're cackling.

"To study for the test, silly." you're laughing a melodic laugh that calms Hoseok's nerves. "I've seen your grades on the quizzes we had. You're so smart, Hoseok."

You think he's smart, Hosoek gulps.

"I wish I could be as smart as you." you sigh almost dramatically.

"Y-you are....smart." Hoseok mentally shoots himself at the lame compliment.

"Thank you." you tilt your head. "So, what do you say?"

Hoseok nods his head hesitantly. He understands that he'd want nothing more than to have you close to him. But, he couldn't be as desperate - he didn't want to scare you off. "I can come study." he murmurs lowly.

You clap your hands together gleefully. "Thank you!"

Hoseok allows his heart shaped lips to smile at you. You looked beautiful when you were cheerful.

"We can walk home after school, okay?' you're walking backwards waiting for his response.

"Okay." Hoseok nods, heart beating outside his chest and goosebumps erupting the skin of his arm.

That was only the beginning of what happened with Hoseok - not Jay.

“Hoseok…?” you murmur, your eyes scanning his face while your mind compares it to the younger version of the man. Shame and humiliation runs through you - how could you not remember the boy; now a man?

“Ah, that’s what it took for you to remember me?” Hoseok begins to laugh, his beautiful teeth shining in front of you. “Mi-sun didn’t remember me either but she loved Jong-seok as the father of her daughter.” Hoseok shakes his head with a chuckle.

Your blood runs cold at Hoseok’s words.

“Years ago…I remember her stating that I would never be someone she’d ever love…fuck…yet that child is mine and I don’t feel any remorse for leaving her alone and struggling.” Hoseok chuckles once more. “Ju-ho was the reason Jang-Mi had to find a new job hours away. Especially when it was revealed she was stealing from the company…”

“Hoseok, please-”

“Of course it was just a rumor but something like that doesn’t go lightly, Y/N. Her career was over and the only job willing to hire her after that…” Hoseok shrugs. “...and, Jung-ho was the one who introduced Mini to her cheating husband. He never took her seriously like she never took anything in others' lives seriously. What goes around comes around, I suppose.”

Hoseok wasn’t Jay - Jay was an act. Hoseok was cold; calculated. He strived off of revenge and spite; and the red robe he wore told you just how calculated the man truly was.

“Hoseok…”

You’re unsure what you want to tell him. You never thought you’d see Hoseok again - much less like this.

Hoseok tilts his head. “I didn’t tell them who I was, you know”? he admits. “I just left when my time was done.”

“Hoseok.”

“You are different, Y/N. You always were.” Hoseok presses the vibrator button and allows the pleasure to come back. “You felt remorse for what you’ve done. You admitted that I never assaulted you like your friends had said…but by then it was too late.”

Hoseok presses the buttons on the vibrator three more times and your back arches at the newfound pressure.

“I had to change schools and only because you spoke up I wasn’t put on any registry.” Hoseok explains, his eyes fixed on how your pussy begins to leak with arousal. “Back then you pretended to like me. You allowed me to take you on dates and admit things I would never had the courage to if you never made me comfortable.”

“Please…” you pleaded, unable to talk more than one word at a time. “It’s too…much.”

“You can take it.” Hoseok grumbles, voice raspy. “You allowed me to hold your hand. You kissed me back. You…you liked it, Y/N. Only when you were caught did you back down.”

Hoseok knows you’re cumming. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your breath hitches - and he enjoys every moment of it.

“To cover up the fact that you liked it, you pushed me away, remember?” Hoseok slams a hand against your cheek to regain your attention.

You yelp aloud, a wave of pleasure going through you. “Y-Yes!”

“You were so humiliated…frightened at what your friends would think.” Hoseok slaps you again, positive that you like what he’s doing to you. “But I knew you adored being around me, Y/N.I was the only person you didn’t have to pretend with.”

Hoseok removes the vibrator just as you cum, you arousal coating the bed sheets. The vibrating sound echoes through the room, mixed with your low sobs.

“I thought about what punishment you all deserved but I could never bring myself to punish you.” Hoseok speaks after a moment. He allows you to catch your breath. “Even when I met you a year ago, Y/N, it felt like it did when we were in High School.”

You flinch when Hoseok touches your face.

“You’re flinching as if I’d ever hurt you.” Hoseok shakes his head. “I got you out of your own debt, remember? I helped uplift you while your friends were going through their own karma. I did.” Hoseok speaks, each word his voice raises higher and higher. “Right?”

“Hoseok please-”

“Right?!”

You flinch once more at the shout. “Yes.” you respond meekly. “I-I didn’t mean to go that far with you.”

“I know, baby.” Hoseok discards the vibrator and places both hands onto your face. “I know,” he repeats. “That’s why I chose to forgive you and give you another chance. Now you and I could truly be together.”

Hoseok frightened you - deep down you tell yourself that Jay was in there somewhere. A year of loving one another, there was never any slip up. Jay cared for you. He loved you unconditionally and put you before anything.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes, Y/N.” Hoseok sighs. “You’re not scared of me. You’re scared of the situation. I would never hurt you or I would have already.”

That doesn’t make your heart beat slow.

“You and I could be together again truthfully. We can continue to love one another.” Hoseok kisses along your face, the same feathery kisses that Jay would give you. “No Mi-sun, no Jang-Mi, no Minji. Just you and I.” he speaks again, his lips pecking yours. “Right?”

Jay always loved you, but this was Hoseok and at the moment, Hoseok terrified you to the core. You were nothing without Jay and you allowed Jay to fully take care of you like he insisted.

“Yes.” you nod, defeated and unsure of what to do. Your bound wrist hurt as did your ankles.

“I love you, baby.” Hoseok pecks your lips once more, smiling into it.

You were sure Jay loved you, wherever inside Hoseok he was residing - and that fact was the only thing keeping you from crying further.

#hoseok x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #yandere hoseok #bts yandere #love you just a little too much #explicit-tae #bangtanwritershq #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritersclub #bangtan smut #btsmasterlist2023 #hoseok smut #angst #bts stalker #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #stalker hoseok

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thelifeofchuckmovie · 2 months ago

Text

When it comes to ending the world, Stephen King is a repeat offender. He has brought life as we know it to a brutal conclusion several times over the decades, usually highlighting the cruelty and desperation that erupts among the last to go. But his 2020 story “The Life of Chuck” uses doomsday to evoke some unlikely sentiments: Wistfulness. Gratitude. Even joy.

The idea of creating an apocalyptic version of It’s a Wonderful Life is what led filmmaker Mike Flanagan to call dibs on the rights to the novella more than four years ago. The breakdown of society, extinction-level natural disasters, and the disintegration of reality itself is explored through the lens of one relatively meek and mild accountant, played by Tom Hiddleston, whose memories and choices are mysteriously connected to these tribulations. Retirement posters congratulating him on “39 great years” pop up everywhere. But who is this guy? What job does he do (or did he used to do)? And why does it matter so much to the fate of the world? This apparent nobody named Chuck Krantz has lived larger than anyone thought possible.

Having explored King country before in 2017’s Gerald’s Game and 2019’s The Shining sequel Doctor Sleep, Flanagan got involved after reading an early copy of “Chuck” before it was published in the collection If It Bleeds. The Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher creator produced the film independently, believing it might be too offbeat for risk-averse studios to greenlight. He even secured a waiver from the striking Hollywood guilds last year to move forward with the shoot while the rest of the industry was stuck in the work stoppage. Now he and Hiddleston are ready to reveal the finished version of The Life of Chuck as it heads to the upcoming Toronto International Film Festival, where it will screen for potential distributors.

Among the skeptics about this adaptation was King himself, according to Flanagan. “His initial responses to me were a little like, ‘Oh, okay. Yeah. If you think that’s a movie…,’” he says. “He did say several times that he thought it would be a challenge to get it supported through traditional means.”

King has now seen the finished movie and no longer has doubts. He described it to Vanity Fair as “a happiness machine.”

“Well, he’s written something very tender and very wise,” Hiddleston says. “I think there is a great wisdom in the soul of the story, which is that it takes courage to hold on to what is good in a world that feels like it’s falling apart.”

Flanagan hopes others see it that way too, although the overpowering dread that begins the story may be more immediately relatable. “I’ve heard it said that every generation feels a little like the world is ending at some point, [but] I still feel like it’s different for us,” the 46-year-old filmmaker says with a mordant laugh. “Institutions we took for granted as propping up our society are failing left and right. Our politics have degraded spectacularly. The sense that it’s breaking down, that the world is moving on, has been increasingly palpable. When I talk to my parents or members of older generations who have been through their own turbulent times, the thing that strikes me is that they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, this is really bad.’”

But…it’s not entirely bad. And that’s the underlying message of The Life of Chuck as its various mysteries play out. “There’s no sense of terror in the way that King drew it,” Flanagan says. “Even as the world feels as though it’s ending, people become introspective, they reach into their past for loves that have left their lives for one reason or another. Strangers engage in open and fearless communication.”

It’s an indie-film variation on the big-budget cataclysm story. “A disaster movie has people meeting the end while running from tidal waves, and this story has people sitting quietly holding hands looking at the stars,” Flanagan says.

The key to it all is Chuck himself, although he doesn’t turn up onscreen until the second segment of the three-act story, which plays out in reverse chronological order.

The beginning is actually the end, as the whole world circles the drain. Caught in this spiral is Chiwetel Ejiofor (12 Years a Slave), a school teacher trying to apply logic to the planet’s troubles; Karen Gillan (Guardians of the Galaxy) is his ex, a hospital worker determined to save everyone she can; Matthew Lillard (Scream) is a construction worker neighbor who finds zen amid the chaos; and Carl Lumbly (Alias), plays a funeral director who has dedicated his life to easing people through death.

The end of the movie is actually the beginning, showing young Chuck (Benjamin Pajak) when he was a boy being raised by his grandparents (Mia Sara of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Mark Hamill). The insight of these two—coupled with the otherworldly revelations he finds in an eerie room tucked into the peak of their Victorian home—help him learn to seek out bright spots when life is marred by sorrow and darkness.

In elementary school, young Chuck discovers some important things about himself thanks to guidance from a brusque dance instructor (Samantha Sloyan), and a kindhearted English teacher, played by Kate Siegel, who gives the boy (not to mention the audience) some important information that serves as a code breaker for the story's more cosmic puzzles.

As for the middle of the film: It’s a dance number. That’s when Hiddleston steps in.

Compounding the peculiarity of The Life of Chuck is the question: Why is this song and dance sequence so important? The answer is for the movie to reveal, but it matters a lot. “The life of every human being is a constellation, as expressed in this film,” Hiddleston says. “There are certain moments which will burn most brightly as individual stars. Sometimes it feels like the world is going to hell in a handcart, and it’s full of pain and suffering, and it is—but there are moments of deep joy and deep connection.”

Hiddleston shows the audience this single moment in the life of a buttoned-up fellow who somehow controls the destiny of the world. It’s not necessarily the most important day in his life, but it’s a memorable one involving a street drummer (Taylor Gordon), a lovely stranger (played by Annalise Basso), and a fateful decision to cast aside caution and cut a rug. “It’s a reminder to do whatever it is that expresses whatever gives you that feeling of being alive,” Hiddleston says. “Whether it’s music or dancing or math or writing or creativity—do it. Do it now. Those moments are what you’ll remember.”

Flanagan considered casting a relative unknown as Chuck to “give the audience the experience of ‘Who the hell is this person?’” as the peculiar retirement signs begin to appear in the midst of the apocalypse. But he felt the promise of the Loki star would build more curiosity as the world falls apart. “You grow an enormous amount of anticipation to finally spend time with an actor like Tom, who can be a literal god in one story, and then an everyman in another,” Flanagan says.

A TikTok video of Hiddleston getting his groove on sealed the deal. “He had a completely unfiltered joy on his face,” Flanagan says. “He was a good dancer, but that wasn’t what struck me. I wasn’t amazed by the technique so much as the degree of happiness that was radiating off of him. The look on his face made me smile the same way I smiled reading that particular portion of the book.”

The resulting scene was created in a month-long collaboration between Flanagan, Hiddleston, Basso, choreographer Mandy Moore (So You Think You Can Dance, and La La Land), and Gordon, a real-life percussionist who performs under the name the Pocket Queen. “Taylor was there for all of the dance choreography. She wrote that piece of music for that performance. They built it together,” Flanagan says.

Hiddleston rattles off the lists of influences: “I had to learn in six weeks the full regime of any dance training. We did jazz, swing, salsa, cha-cha, the Charleston, bossa nova, polka, quickstep, samba. We were trying to tip our hat to anything that might have influenced Chuck. It might’ve had a bit of Gene Kelly or Fred and Ginger. Certainly moonwalking—Stephen King is very specific about the moonwalk.”

Precision was not the goal, exuberance was what they sought. “We need to always bear in mind that this man is an accountant. We needed this to be an earnest, escalating explosion of joy, and a remembrance of who he was,” Flanagan says. “It’s a chance to step back into the skin of his younger self, not caring that his feet are going to kill him the next day, not caring that he’s going to wake up with a horribly stiff neck.”

A surprising thing happened while shooting the scene over the course of several sweltering afternoons in the deep South. “I burned holes in my shoes,” Hiddleston says. “I was dancing out on the asphalt in Alabama, and by the time we’d finished, you could see my socks through the soles.”

The sequence begins awkwardly: Chuck is self-conscious as he first hears the busker’s rhythm while walking back from a banking conference. That feeling quickly gets shaken off. “Tom was very committed,” Flanagan says. “He was like, ‘If I look silly, that’s fine. As long as I look happy.’”

Flanagan remembers being in a bad place when he first discovered “The Life of Chuck.” Then again, everybody was.

His copy of the manuscript arrived in March 2020. “That was just as the world shut down for COVID,” he says. “We had been a week away from starting principal photography on Midnight Mass in Vancouver and had fled across the border before it closed to make it back to the States. We were hunkered down in our homes and had no idea if this was going to last for two weeks or if this was going to last forever.”

With everything halted as the lockdown set in, Flanagan had plenty of time to do nothing but read. The new King book seemed like the perfect escape. Except…

“The first third of ‘The Life of Chuck’ just rattled me,” he recalls. “There’s no way he wrote this before the world ground to this bizarre halt—but he did. And the feeling of anxiety, and uncertainty, and that everything was falling apart came roaring out at me. I wasn’t sure I could finish it. It just felt too close to the anxiety I was feeling.” But he kept turning the pages. “By the end of it, I was in tears, and incredibly uplifted, and convinced I’d read maybe the best thing that he’d written in a decade. I just was floored by the thing,” Flanagan says. “So I fired off an email to him right away saying how much I loved the story, how incredible I thought it was, how meaningful, and important, and how it had really tattooed itself on my heart and said, ‘It’s the movie I want to make so that it’ll exist in the world for my kids.’”

King’s response: Not so fast. Flanagan and his producing partner, Trevor Macy, had at that point secured the rights to King’s fantasy saga The Dark Tower through their company, Intrepid Pictures. The eight-book series is threaded throughout King’s other works, and adapting it was a massive undertaking that Flanagan is still working to make happen. Other filmmakers had either abandoned the project, were canceled midway through, or bombed miserably. The author didn’t want him to be distracted. “He doesn’t like to give the same filmmaker more than one thing, because it typically means one thing is not advancing at all,” Flanagan says. “He said, ‘Well, let’s focus on The Tower and I’ll try to keep this one available for you for later.’”

The quest to The Dark Tower remains a priority for Flanagan, but a number of disruptions to that epic undertaking led him to reapproach King last year about Chuck. Intrepid’s deal with Netflix, where they had created Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor, and other shows, had come to a close, and Intrepid signed a new development agreement with Amazon. That meant starting over on The Dark Tower. Meanwhile, the threat of a double-barreled strike by writers and actors was on the horizon, stalling nearly every major new project. The industry plunged into another production-halting lockdown, this time over contract impasses rather than a virus.

Since The Dark Tower was suddenly further off on the horizon, Flanagan saw a chance to make The Life of Chuck happen in the short term. “It’s so rare that I get to approach any project that just has not an ounce of cynicism to it. I just really believed in this thing,” he says. “But it was also clear that we would have an incredibly uphill battle bringing the story to any major studio. They would try to make it as familiar as possible, instead of leaning into what makes it so different.”

King gave Flanagan his blessing to proceed. “I was off like a shot,” the filmmaker says. “I think I turned in the draft to him before he got around to sending the formal agreement.”

For everyone involved, The Life of Chuck became a bright spot in an otherwise dismal time, which matches the theme of the film. “There is a profound optimism in this story,” Hiddleston says. “As the world is spinning off its axis, there are moments of magic.”

#the life of chuck #tom hiddleston #mark hamill #karen gillan #chiwetel ejiofor #jacob tremblay #kate siegel #mike flanagan #carl lumbly

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d-targaryenshoe · 10 months ago

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Frozen Pain - Jackson Avery

Word count: 1600

Summary: Love that's real, doesn't know a distance, does it?

You're holding a cup of coffee, comfortable in the luxurious beige couch in your penthouse apartment in New York. You held a letter in your hand, visibly upset.

Hey y/n

I hope this letter finds you very fast. It has been quite some time since we last saw each other at the hospital, or even had a good talk.

And I wanted to let you know that everyone misses you so bad. The hospital just isn't the same without you, or our after-shift drinks at Joe's.

There have been changes since you left. So stay calm when reading this. But Jackson and Maggie are dating now. It came as a surprise to all of us, and it may seem evil but I miss seeing you happy with him.

I thought you should know since you were...you know what I mean.

I know it's been a while since we last spoke, but I hope you'll find the time to write back when you receive this letter.

Take care, I hope to hear from you soon.

Amelia

"I can't believe this... Jackson and Maggie?" You muttered to yourself placing your cup of coffee on the table and folding the letter closed.

Images of you and Jackson together, happy and in love, flash across the screen. The memories of your past relationship flood your mind.

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. You pick up your phone and dial Amelia's number. After a few rings, she answers.

"You have no idea how much I waited to hear you." Amelia sounded emotional about the fact she noticed you calling for the first time after you had left. "Y/n?"

"Amelia, why didn't you tell me about them when I was still there?" Your voice trembled even if you didn't want it to. "I should've known, you know I should've."

" I didn't know how to break it to you. I thought it would be better if you heard it from me." Amelia spoke, sounding apologetic.

"Well, thanks for that. I can't believe he moved on so quickly." You sighed, leaning back into the couch, staring out of your window. "Maybe I left at the right time."

"I know it hurts, but y/n, you decided to leave Seattle. You had to follow your dreams, remember?" Amelia reminded you.

You sighed deeply, nodding your head even if she couldn't see. " I know, but it doesn't make it any easier. I thought what we had was special."

"It was special, and it still is. But sometimes life takes unexpected turns. You deserve happiness too, you know that." She answered on the other side.

" I just wish I didn't have to find out this way." You muttered, wiping away the tears that fell from your teary eyes.

"I understand. But remember, I'm here for you, no matter what." The Shepherd sister spoke. "Just remember, you're strong and capable of creating your happiness."

"I will try to remember that." You hang up the phone and take a moment to collect yourself. Despite the pain, you know deep down that you made the right decision by pursuing your career in New York.

You open your laptop that's on the coffee table and check your emails. You notice a mail from Jo with the subject 'Don't hate me'. You click on the email and start reading.

From: Jo Wilson

Subject: Don't hate me

Hey y/n,

I hope you're all settled and doing great. I wanted to let you know something that happened yesterday.

I bumped into Jackson and Maggie in the parking lot, and it seemed like they were arguing, or breaking up, or anything else that wasn't any good. And yes, sometimes I'm too nosy.

I know your history with Jackson, so I thought I should let you know.

But here's the thing... I accidentally I repeat, accidentally, let it slip that you live in New York.

I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to reveal any of it! Not without your permission. I just wanted to give you a heads-up that there's a big chance he's on his way to you.

You quickly close the laptop, unsure of what to do next.

You grab your cup of coffee and walk over to the sink. You place the cup in the sink and turn on the faucet, letting the warm water flow.

"Might as well do something productive to distract me." You whispered to yourself, looking at the dishes.

You proceed to wash the glasses, rinsing off any soap residue before placing them on a drying rack.

Suddenly you hear a knock on the door. You cautiously make your way to the door and open it, revealing the last person you'd expect standing on the other side.

Not thinking for another second you tried to shut the door.

"Even three seconds is enough...I just need to know that you're okay." He said, placing a hand on the door, making sure you didn't close it. "Wilson told me you took the offer in New York. I just- I had to see it for myself."

"Well, as you can see. I'm in New York not in Seattle." You shrugged at the man you once fell for or still had, but you couldn't show. "Maggie knows you're here?"

"Who told you that..." He furrowed his eyebrows, taking his hand off the door.

"Amelia wrote me, Jackson. I know you've moved on, so I think it's best if you do as well." You gave him a small smile, trying to close the door once again.

"You've been avoiding my calls and messages. Can we at least talk?" Jackson asked, his eyes staring back at yours.

" I guess we can talk, but I'm not sure what there is left to say." You sighed, opening the door wider for him to walk inside. "What do you want to know?"

You closed the door, sitting down on your couch.

"I just want to understand why you left so suddenly without talking to me. I thought we had something special." He folded his hands on top of his knees, looking at you.

You shook your head in denial, staring at the ceiling, feeling the tears pricking in your eyes. "Jackson, it's not that simple. Andrew died, Alex left, Meredith was going to leave, and I needed some time to process everyone leaving me."

"But why didn't you talk to me? We've always been open and honest with each other." Jackson turned his body towards you, leaning an arm on the couch headrest.

" I know, and I'm sorry. I should have talked to you, but I was terrified. Scared of losing you, scared of facing my own emotions." You answered, placing your face in your hands.

"I broke things off with Maggie, she...she doesn't feel as home as you do. We've been through hell and back, we can do it again." He said.

"Jackson, it's not that simple. We both have our baggage and unresolved issues. We can't just start from where everything ended?" You got up from the couch, walking over to the huge window, staring down at the busy city.

"I believe in us. I believe that we can work through our problems together." He spoke as you felt him standing behind you.

"I need time to figure things out. I need to understand my feelings and what I want. It's not fair to either of us to rush into anything." You replied, turning around, your heart quickening as you stared back into his bright eyes.

As Jackson stood in front of you, his eyes filled with determination, you felt your resolve waver.

"I'd do anything if I have to, only to make things work out between us," he said earnestly.

You let out a heavy sigh, "Jackson, you know it's not that simple. You've just left Maggie behind."

"I know, I know," he said, running a hand over his head. "But I've let go of things in the past that I regret now, but y/n, you? You're, you're something I could never regret, ever."

You turned back around, fighting back the emotions swirling inside of you. "I don't know if I can do this again." You whispered.

"Just...just give me a chance to show you." he pleaded, taking a step closer to you.

The memories flooded back, the laughs, the tears, the late-night conversations. Despite your best efforts, you felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips.

You looked up at him, and he smiled back, a hopeful glint in his eyes, and the city lights twinkled outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of your penthouse.

He leaned in, and your heart skipped a beat as his lips met yours. The kiss was intense, filled with both longing and regret.

"What are we doing?" you whispered, breaking away.

"Right now? I don't know," he confessed. "But I miss this and I miss us."

The ache in his words mirrored your own emotions, but you knew it was dangerous to reopen old wounds. "We can't keep doing this to ourselves," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I know, but I can't walk away." Jackson pleaded, his eyes searching yours.

A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through you, and you let out a frustrated moan. "And you think, I can?" you admitted, feeling the weight of those words hanging in the air.

He pulled you close, and a bittersweet laughter filled the room. "Then let's try," he said, his voice determined.

As you looked into his eyes, the city hummed in the background, and you knew this decision would change everything.

#greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy imagines #greys anatomy x reader #request open #jackson avery imagine #jackson avery imagines #jackson avery x reader #greys #jesse x reader #jesse williams x reader #jesse williams imagine #jesse williams imagines #jesse williams #greys x reader #greys anatomy #jackson avery

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lieslab · 3 months ago

Text

Nothing new

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Minho finds you on the porch when the hurt from the issues your father gave you tends to bubble up and fizz over.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.3K

Trigger warning: Daddy issues, grief, depression, anxiety, mentions of physical violence and emotional abuse.

A/N: I forgot that I wrote a daddy issue post like a week or two ago because I have the memory of a goldfish. I haven't done a Minho drabble in a while and honestly, this was one hundred percent completely self-indulgent and I cannot lie about it. I was spiraling and this was what conjured up in the middle of my grief. I'm so sorry if you can relate, we deserve better <3

_ _ _

"Why are you hanging out here alone?” Minho plopped down beside you on the back wooden porch.

You couldn’t remember how long you had been here. Maybe it was mere minutes or maybe it was more like hours. Time seemed to blend together out here and you let it.

The sun was starting to set. It painted the sky with roaring reds and bright oranges. Streaks of clouds were beginning to fade further and further away into the distance. Soon the sun would set and the moon would begin to climb the darkened skies.

“I’ve been calling your name for a while. I thought you were in our bedroom, but you didn’t respond. I even thought you were showering until I found the bathroom empty. I was starting to think you had been kidnapped or something.”

You shrugged, “I’m just here.”

“So what are you thinking about?”

“Noth-”

“Bullshit. You don’t turn into a recluse unless you’re truly struggling with something. You know that I’m not going to judge you, so what are you really thinking about?”

“Everything all at once.”

“Anything specific?”

“Family.”

His face softened at the mention of your family. Life with your family has been chaotic. He knew the stories, you always told him about them. More specifically, he knew the issues that you had with your father.

“Daddy issues again?”

“Or perhaps my brain is the issue.” You shifted and leaned back. Your legs hung down the descending stairs, but your upper half clung to the deck. “I just…I just wish I could stop making it a big deal. I wish things didn’t affect me so much. I wish actions and words would run off me like water instead of sticking.”

“It’s not wrong to mourn the things you missed out on. I understand that it must be hard to deal with the cards life gave you. Everyone has struggles and yours just happens to be your father.”

“You’d think it’d stop once you grow up.”

He paused for a moment and his eyes went out to the backyard. Off in the distance, the shared vegetable garden bloomed. Bright grown plants flourished in every direction. Two white cabbage butterflies chased each other around and around. Soon they’d land on an outer cabbage leaf and begin to munch away without a care in the world.

“I think realizing it when you get older makes it worse. You become aware of the injustice and hurt which causes a cognitive disconnect. It makes it cut that much deeper. You don’t have to feel bad for feeling something so natural.”

“You know what the worst part is?” You finally got out. The sting of tears began to collect in the corners of your eyes. “He’s not even a good man. We’re talking about one of the worst people out there and yet I still feel myself chasing after him.”

“The kind of person who picks strangers over his own children. The type who spends money on stupid things instead of the youngest child’s needs. The kind of person who has no issue yelling and screaming in someone’s face. The kind that lets their anger control them and make all the decisions.”

“But yet…I keep chasing. I keep hoping and praying. I’ve started to talk to God,” a tearful snort fell from your mouth. “I don’t even know if I believe in him, but I’ve talked to him. I keep asking for a better father, but all I hear is silence.”

“They say you should stay in contact with your parents because they’re your parents, but what if a parent is making you so stressed and upset, your hair falls out? What if it leads to sobbing and emotional distress? What if it leads to screaming and fighting? What if trying to love my father is what kills me?”

Minho’s heart broke apart at your words. He knew it was bad and it had been for a while, but he didn’t know it was this bad. His hand instinctively reached out for yours. The warmth of his palm connected with yours and curled around your fingers.

“And you know what the worst part is?”

“Hmm?”

“If I leave him, that’s it. He won’t change and try to become a better person. He won’t think about his actions and go out of his way to change. He’ll just point the finger and belittle me. Run my name through the mud to every family member. He’ll belittle me, turn me into an outsider, pull the curtain over everyone’s eyes again. He’ll always be the good father in his eyes and I’ll just become another asshole that did him wrong. Just like the hundreds of other people that he once upon a time knew.”

Narcissism was deadly for some. Too much of an ego and too much self-imposed-importance left people craving attention. No matter whose character they had to rip apart, they’d do it. Whether that meant belittling them to everyone they knew, screaming at them, or even assaulting them.

Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me.

All the attention had to be swallowed by them. Like some sort of powerful sun, the rays never knew how brightly they burned. Any ounce of criticism was a pot of boiling hot water.

The huffs and puffs. The finger in your face. The yelling and screaming as spit flew everywhere. The broadening rage that seemed to fill the room without a single sound. The angry marching from them as you tiptoed along on eggshells. Just when you let out a breath, they snapped and lashed out.

You didn’t have time to react before you became a victim of another episode. Another rage fest where things went flying. When the refrigerator door slammed shut so hard that the shelves full of condiments shook. The way that cupboards were dented from the force of wood slamming against wood.

Your dad would always be your dad, but he’d never be a good father. You could cry and cry and cry. You could cry enough tears to create an ocean, but it’d never be enough to wash the hate out of your father. That realization caused your heart to break apart.

Your biological father would never love you, at least, not the way you loved him. Your chasing was starting to slow down. You could spend a few more years chasing his love and begging on your knees for it, but when was the last time your father said he loved you?

When was the last time you were your father’s child? When was the last time that your father seemed to give a shit about you? Did he know your favorite color? Did he know the songs that caused your heart to boom with adrenaline?

Better yet, did he know something as simple as your birthday? Does he know or does he laugh as he asks you because it’s not such a big deal to him? So when he hands you a card from the dollar store with his name, does it feel just as worthless as his love for you?

“Is it wrong to want to be loved?”

“Never. It’s never wrong to be loved and I’m sorry you don’t have that kind of love. If you want me to, I’ll share my father with you.”

“I haven’t even met your father.”

“Oh, I was talking about Bang Chan.”

“Minho!” You leaned over to lightly slap his shoulder. Before you could reach it, he jerked out of reach. His hand grabbed your wrist and he jerked you closer.

“Hey!”

Your annoyance instantly dissolved the moment his lips met yours. Your body relaxed and you began to kiss him back. At this moment, none of your father’s lack of love mattered. Right now, you had this and what a fool you’d be to ever give it up.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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Taglist and inbox rules

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #skz fanfic #lee know #lee know fic #lee know stray kids #lee know skz #stay #skz minho #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee minho

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morehotch · 1 year ago

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[7:23 AM]

aaron x gn + bau! reader, reader taking care of sick aaron

you knew when jack caught a stomach bug from school last week that inevitably either you or aaron would get sick afterwards. but you were especially worried about aaron; he already rarely lets himself rest or slow down. he's stubborn and even though you both saw his early symptoms of fatigue and headaches, aaron ignored it and pushed through for a few days as you both focused on taking care of jack.

but this morning, when he wakes up groggy and sweaty after being restless all night and it’s official; your incredibly lovely but intense and determined and dedicated husband was sick.

you thought it went without saying aaron now needed- deserved, some old fashioned tlc and chicken noodle soup. but you should’ve known better, you walk into the bathroom and catch aaron attempting to button up his white collared shirt, turning to look for a tie, trying to get ready for work.

he looks pale and the dark circles under his eyes make you walk quickly into the closet, standing between him and his impressively large tie collection.

"no," you say sternly, still with a small pout.

"honey," aaron says weakly with a sigh and you shake your head, now equally determined as your husband.

"honey," you repeat, “please, you're sick. you need to take care of yourself."

as expected, aaron looks incredibly unconvinced as you cross your arms over your chest, "you would never let me go into work like this, why can't you give yourself the same care and compassion?" you run a hand up and down his arm, hating how warm his skin felt.

he frowns, eyebrows furrowed like he's trying to think of a rebuttal but you continue, “i'll take jack to school and call the team. we both can stay home.”

aaron’s frown only deepens, “no, no don't stay home because of me."

"you would do the same for me,” you argue, knowing aaron would immediately call out of work at the slightest aliment you faced; proven by a few months ago when you sprained your ankle and aaron insisted on you propping your leg up in bed and waiting on you, tenderly nursing your not very injured leg back to health.

you smile at the memory as you hear the soft footsteps of jack. "daddy," he calls, wandering into your room, poking his head into the bathroom.

aaron smiles immediately at the site of his son in his adorable dinosaur pajamas- his recent obsession and your most recent purchase. jack finally felt better after a few days of you, aaron, and jess took turns to care for him.

"i'm sorry i got you sick," he mumbles sadly, struggling to wrap his arms gently around aaron's legs.

he looks down, running a hand gently through jack’s bed head, "oh buddy, this isn't your fault.“

“the mean stomach bug just found a way into our house, but we're going to get rid of him,” you promise and jack giggles at your explanation before running off to get ready for school, excited with your promise of discussing dinosaurs with you in the car on the way there.

by now, aaron seems to have accepted his not so bad fate of being taken care of by you today as he slowly unbuttons his collared shirt, turning to find a simple t-shirt.

“can we at least video conference in at some point?” he sighs and you laugh knowingly, considering aaron, you decide that's a pretty good comrpomise.

“deal,” you smile, coming into the closet, hugging him from behind and kissing his bare shoulder gently. “go back to bed,” you murmur, “i’ll be back soon.”

when you come back from dropping jack off, you find case files perched precariously on his nightstand and aaron back in his pajamas, flipping through crime scene photos for your current case.

you place your sick day essentials on your nightstand; a bottle of gatorade, mutiple medicines, and a thermometer- that when you run it over aaron's forehead, reads a considerably high fever.

"no crime scene photos allowed when you have a fever, new house rule," you smile at aaron’s small pout, trading the gruesome photos for some tylenol.

you settle back into bed with him after calling penelope and explaining the situation, passing the phone over and letting aaron weakly give an agenda for today.

you kiss his forehead, running your hand through his hair that's getting a little longer- to your own secret excitement. you get comfortable, and instead of settling in your usual spot with your back against your chest; you pull aaron gently into your own, throwing an arm across his waist, rubbing up and down soothingly.

"you're gonna get sick," he murmurs but you smile into the crook of his neck. "worth it,” you whisper, “i love taking care of you.”

after lunch, he finally falls asleep as you hold him loosely, finally looking relaxed and peaceful.

when you have to leave to get jack from school and he’s still sleeping, you decide to let him sleep and not wake him up. aaron rarely gets enough sleep, ever. you think he definitely deserves this.

however, that means the afternoon video conference that aaron mentioned to an unconvinced penelope doesn’t happen.

but aaron doesn’t wake up mad, blinking as he discovers jack nestled in his side, grinning when he realizes his dad is awake, thrusting a bright get well card he made at school today into his hands.

aaron handles it with such care as he turns to look for you, smiling when you walk into your bedroom.

“sorry i didn’t wake you up for that afternoon meeting, you looked so comfortable,” you explain sheepishly and aaron only shrugs, tugging a giggling jack into his arms.

“oh yeah, don’t worry honey, i didn’t feel up to that anyway,” he smiles and you can’t help your immediate grin as aaron continues with so much sincerity that even after so many years together he still makes your cheeks flush, “thanks for encouraging me today, thank you for being you, baby.”

#aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic

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uhohbestie · 6 days ago

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There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 42]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 42 - The story of There Are Monsters Nearby concludes as Scar and Grian turn away from their past and look towards the future.

📝 Words: 11,088

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 42 on AO3

—

“I want you to get Pop Tarts,” Grian says, his attention cast to the side while Scar works, looking towards the settlement in the distance. It’s a fair ways off, looking more like a grey-brown smudge from where they stand— a collection of RVs and camper vans clustered close together in the lee of a grassy ridge, the surrounding hills fringed in sparse junipers and hardy looking spruce saplings. There’s an open space between them, dotted with small lumps that Scar knows are grazing cattle and a clustered herd of goats.

The ruins of a city lay further off to the east, the handful of buildings not blackened from fire standing empty and abandoned. It’s from there that the zombies have been drifting out, a perpetual source of mindless, wandering horror. Though now, thanks to Scar’s aim and Grian’s tenacious knack for violence, the tide will hopefully have been stemmed to some degree.

“And whatever milk and cheese they’ve got. I saw all their animals, there’s no way they don’t have dairy to spare.”

It’s an endearing quirk that Grian has adopted ever since it became clear his diet was permanently changed. He likes to pick things for Scar to eat now, planning and suggesting his meals with whatever they scavenge, hunt, and barter. He’s never been a good cook, not even before the world fell apart, but it’s been sweet the way he's applied himself to improving, the two times he gave Scar food poisoning already becoming fond memories in their own way.

When the last zombie’s head has been separated from its body, Scar yanks a glove onto his hand and begins gathering them all, shoving each one into a canvas sack that he uses for the sole purpose of demonstrating their worth to any sceptical marks they come across. Once he’s done, he sets the bag down, putting out his arm and drawing Grian in close.

“Good work out there,” he compliments, pressing a kiss to the top of his partner’s head. Grian’s hair is clean and smells incredibly good—like sandalwood and something crisp—everything about him well-maintained, despite the state of the world around them. “You really treated those googlies like you had a score to settle.”

Without hesitation Grian leans into Scar’s touch, the easy return of his affection still a novelty, despite how many weeks Scar’s been allowed and able to enjoy it.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he offers, his words mumbled sweetly into the thick flannel of Scar’s shirt. “You’re getting to have a real hawk-eye with your aim, you know.”

“I love it when you say I’m a hot guy,” Scar preens, deliberately mishearing him. “Got a real nice ring to it.”

[ read more ]

—

Chapter 42! 380k words and ten months later, we are so happy to announce that we've come to the end of our story. While there's still so much more of TAMN left that we plan to write and share, this portion is over, and we couldn't be happier. Thank you so, so much for going on this journey with us, and we hope you enjoy the epilogue and ending of There Are Monsters Nearby 💜🧡

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

#trafficshipping #scarian #life series fanfic #zombie au #TAMN #TAMN fic

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toomuchracket · 4 months ago

Text

swimming lessons (dad!ross x reader smut)

part of summer75 and a day late because i'm a busy girl. but this is fun! breeding kink haters dni. the rest of you, enjoy <3

“not to be weird or anything, babe, but your husband is looking really, really sexy to me right now.”

you snort, turning to look at your friend on the sunlounger next to you. “yours is literally right behind you right now.”

“what? she's right,” matty pipes up, kissing his wife's head. he lifts up his sunglasses, looking back towards the pool with a low whistle. “he's fit.”

to be fair, neither of them are wrong - ross does look incredible, shirtless in the pool, beads of water dripping down his body. you follow one as it travels down his bicep, flexed from holding baby alex (who, at three, isn't really a baby anymore, but you’re convinced that's what he'll be known as forever, bless him), biting your lip when the droplet falls from ross's wrist onto his stomach and disappears when it reaches his shorts. your shorts, too, are beginning to collect wetness, the sight of your husband looking delectable and dilfy turning you on to an insane level; when he strokes your sleepy nephew's curls and beams at your daughter demonstrating a front crawl, you genuinely have to squeeze your legs together.

and when he walks up the steps from the pool towards you, toddler still in his arms… it takes everything in you to hold back a moan. somehow, you manage it, and even manage a smile at the way alex beams and makes grabby arms for your friend - she takes him into her own, cooing “you did so well, munchkin! was it fun, swimming with uncle ross? it was? oh, good!” at her baby and mouthing “thank you” at ross. he winks, ruffling alex's hair another time and doing the same to his dad's with a laugh, before wandering over to you and leaning down for a kiss. “alright, love?”

“mmm, yeah,” you steal another peck, savouring the familiar feel of his lips on yours before lying back (as seductively as you can manage). “sit with me for a bit?”

“absol-”

“dad, dad!” eilidh yells. you peer over to see your daughter giving lyla a piggyback in the water, keir faffing about with one of his cousin's armbands. “we need your help to fix this, please!”

“coming, bean,” ross calls out. he turns back to you with a sigh, leaning down for another kiss that doesn't last anywhere near as long as you'd like. “sorry, babe. back soon, though, yeah?”

you nod, smiling gently. “yeah.”

as your husband makes his way over to save the day, matty reaches out to pat you on the shoulder sympathetically. “cockblocked by your own kid. been there, mate.”

“matthew, you can't say that in front of our son!” his wife hisses, holding an almost-sleeping alex even closer to her as if she can wipe away the memory of the bad word through touch; she turns to you, too, small smile on her pretty face. “sorry, though, babe. i get it, i do.”

“it's that obvious i'm feeling,” you wave your hands as you search for the right word. “... amorous? christ.”

“well… yeah, but-”

“but it's valid,” matty chips in. “very.”

“yeah, it's valid,” your friend nods. “how long has it been?”

“must be, i don't know,” you trill your lips, wracking your brain to recall the date of you and ross's latest sexcapades and coming up short. “i can't even remember, actually,” you laugh in disbelief, shaking your head. “that's awful.”

matty scoffs. “for the two of you? it’s worrying,” he sighs, wistful. “you used to be ridiculous, always sneaking off to sh- cuddle, in the way grown-ups do. was mental.”

his wife leans round to look at him, brow furrowed. “worse than us?”

“darling, nobody's as bad as us,” he kisses her nose, then turns to you. “but yeah. i think you and ross should go on a date.”

images flood your mind, images of ross in a nice shirt and you in a dress, images of gorgeous plates of pasta and glasses of wine, images of the two of you dancing and kissing, images of him above you, chain dangling and face contorted in pleasure as…

yeah, a date sounds like a good idea.

but the kids…

“oh, we can look after them for a night! the kids would love a sleepover, i reckon,” your friend nods eagerly when you share your thoughts. “could even take them tonight, if you fancied.”

your heart soars. “really?”

“course,” matty nods. “we still owe you for the night the little nugget my girl's holding was invented, anyway.”

you laugh, reaching over to stroke said nugget’s soft cheek; he smiles in his sleep when you do, and it makes your heart melt. “love you guys, i really do.”

“and we love you,” your friend squeezes your hand, beaming. “and we hope you have a good night.”

as it turns out, you do. everything seems to fall perfectly into place in regard to it, actually - by some miracle, the fancy restaurant down the road has a table for two available tonight; you win the fight with the humidity and leave the hotel with nice hair; the kids are borderline-offensively excited about the sleepover with the healys, hugging you and ross goodbye at the speed of light before bolting into the other suite to watch tangled.

dinner is perfect, too, but not nearly as much as the man sitting across from you. ross looks gorgeous in a soft linen shirt, even more so than usual; he blushes slightly when you tell him as much, shaking his head and returning the compliment and making your cocktail-buzzed head spin. he keeps the sweet talking going the whole night, from the restaurant to the wine bar and back to the hotel, flirting with you like he did over a decade ago and subsequently getting you as insatiable for him as you were back then.

luckily for you, though, ross is equally as insatiable, as evidenced by the way he crashes (a cliché, but there's no other word for it) his lips onto yours the second the lift to your hotel room floor dings shut. you sigh into his mouth at the feeling, a sigh that quickly becomes a moan when his tongue finds its way between your lips and his hands find their way to your arse. ross giggles at the sound, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead on yours. “fuck, i missed you. missed this.”

“so did i,” you kiss him again, pulling away when the lift dings and wandering into the hallway. ross follows a few steps behind, and you know with every fibre of your being that he's staring at your hips in the satin dress; this is confirmed when you quickly spin to face him, those pretty eyes of his flicking up to yours as you hold out your hand. “coming?”

your husband doesn't answer. instead, he crosses the space between you in one stride, scooping you bridal-style into his arms so fast you can barely react and practically running down the hall to your room. as you fumble in your handbag for the keycard, his lips meet your neck, and you momentarily forget what it is you're doing - the feeling passes quickly, though, and within thirty seconds you're in the suite and being quite literally thrown onto the king-size bed.

ross climbs atop you, kissing you again, slowly, deeply, sexily, turning your brain to goo and your core slick; his hands gently cup your face, while yours fumble to find the buttons on his shirt and begin to undo them. he smiles into you, hands travelling to your shoulders to slip the straps of your dress down and free your tits. when he touches them, rolling your nipples between calloused fingers, you whine, and he laughs. “you like that, love?”

“you know i do,” smiling, you pull the hair tie from his bun, running your fingers through his hair and savouring the satisfied moan he lets out. “god, you're hot.”

“nah, you're the hot one,” ross runs his hands down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “i mean, look at this fucking dress on you.”

you preen, crossing your legs behind his back. “wanna fuck me in it?”

“obviously,” ross scoffs. “d'you want anything else first, though?”

“nah,” you pull him close to you, whispering directly in his ear. “we've got the whole night for you to do other things to me, baby.”

ross groans into your neck, hands frantically sliding under your dress to pull your underwear down; he winks as he pockets the garment, before unbuckling his belt. you sigh happily when he pulls his boxers down just enough to free his cock, and he smirks. “condom? or are you too desperate, love?”

“you're the one who got a boner from a snog,” you fire back, smirking to match ross; you lean up to kiss him, tugging him onto you by the chain around his neck. “and no condom. wanna feel it when you fill me up.”

“god,” ross's eyes darken, fluttering closed when he sinks into you with a groan. “like that, baby?”

“yeah,” you breathe, readjusting to the feeling of your husband inside you after all this time. “fuck, ross, m’so full.”

“well, you did eat all that pasta-”

“i swear to fucking god, ross, if you don't shut up i'll-”

he cuts you off with a sharp thrust and a saccharine smile. “you’ll what, love? go on, tell me.”

bastard. he knows fine well you can't, brain completely clearing as soon as he starts fucking you - you've been doing this for fifteen years, after all. right now, all you can do is allow yourself to get lost in the bliss of fucking your husband, inching ever closer to the inevitable rush of pleasure with every movement of ross's hips. when his hand joins the party, fingers as deliberate on your clit as they are on his bass strings, you whine, and he beams. “y'having fun?”

“mhmm,” you pout your lips for a kiss, and ross obliges immediately with some filthy sloppy thing that turns your brain inside out. all the while, neither his hand or hips let up, and you can feel the shockwaves beginning in your nervous system. “y'gonna make me cum.”

“s'my favourite thing,” ross smiles against your lips, moving to tenderly rest his forehead on yours. “well, you and the kids are my favourite thing, but… you know what i mean.”

you huff out a laugh. “maybe you'll get another one tonight.”

he rolls his eyes. “don't take the piss.”

“m'not!” you kiss the side of his head, stroking his hair. “i know you want one, ‘n’ so do i - please, ross?” you move your lips onto his neck, kissing the spot at his collarbone you know drives him insane. “let's make a baby.”

ross sighs. “well, you asked for it.”

before you can even respond, he's wrapping your legs even tighter around his waist, slamming into you with reckless abandon. the sound of your bodies meeting is nothing short of depraved, all skin slapping and wet cunt and little moans leaving your lips as your husband fucks you with complete and utter determination. those shockwaves from earlier are increasing tenfold with every thrust, rocking through you every time ross hits that sweet spot inside you; when he brings his lips to your ear, beard tickling the skin, they increase again, leading you right to the edge. “cum for me, love. need to fill you before i fill you up… oh, fuck, just like that, good girl.”

your orgasm is sudden, strong, violent - your limbs convulse, lips part, eyes roll back, and voice wails as you topple into ecstasy, ross following a beat behind. he holds himself against you as he cums with a groan, letting you feel every last drop coating your insides before face-planting into your tits with a weary sigh. breathless as you are too, you bring a shaky hand to your husband's hair, kissing his temple. “shit, i love you so much.”

“feeling's mutual,” ross responds, words muffled by your chest. he softly kisses your glowing skin, looking up at you with a smile - he looks utterly fucked, but he's so, so beautiful. “you reckon that worked, then?”

you shrug. “maybe. but we should try again, too, i think. just to be sure.”

ross laughs, snuggling back into you again. “well, give me five minutes first.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #summer75 #dad!ross #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald smut #ross x reader #ross macdonald x reader

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