#some of you may have seen parts of this before

[hanniesbrat]

the boy is mine | k.mg

pet play w mingyu

pairing: kim mingyu x reader, reader’s best friend is yuqi! ((g)i-dle) also cheol lol

wc: 5.6k (can you believe i cut it down?)

genre: strangers -> fucking, smut, little cracky at some parts

synopsis: when one of your best friends (who also happens to be a frat bro), seungcheol, invites you to his halloween party, you hesitantly accept. you were never really the party type… but one guy, one of his new friends to be exact, might single handedly change that.

!other kinktober fics!

a/n: ......heyyyyy... no one hate me. i know im almost a whole month late ): prepping for the svt concert took more time than i anticipated, i live in america so... yeah all that happened, work got in the way, i had a lot of yap days with my wife @jenoslutie which has been so nice!! <3 and i JUST (literally today) got back from visiting my bestie @goblynnrockz for their birthday :p BUT in between all that, i managed to finish this bitch. (pun intended) ALL OF THAT BEING SAID, i really hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. and if it seems like its eluding to there being a potential relationship between mc and gyu, well... maybe there will be in the future ;p

(P.S. you must picture long, wavy haired mingyu in this :3 more like the pic on the right. i just put the lolla pic bc it fits the vibe you CANNOT argue w that lol okay imma stop yapping now. ENJOY LUVLIES!!!!)

you weren’t the party type, but when one of your best friends, seungcheol, invited you to his frat’s halloween party with a nearly quivering bottom lip, you couldn’t say no.

“you have to let me bring whoever i want as my plus one.” you deadpanned while crossing your arms. 

“so you’ll go?!” he nearly squealed. 

you sighed before nodding with an annoyed, “yes.”

“fuck yeah!” he yelled before swooping you up in a big hug. you couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from your chest. 

you loved when cheol got all giddy. it was such a silly contrast to his wide, strong build, and that’s always been so enduring yet hilarious to you. you didn’t think anyone else like him existed in real life. 

until you met him. 

“remind me again why you are dragging me to a party?” your best friend, yuqi, chuckled out from the passenger’s seat of your car. 

you took the last right before reaching the house. “cheol asked nicely and… i’ve been needing an excuse to wear these boots,” you smiled, looking for a parking spot.

yuqi silently pointed to a spot on the street, and as you parked, she went on. “i just can’t help but wonder why cheol wanted you to go so bad like… he knows you’re not a partier.”

“he wants me to get out of my shell more.” you shrugged, getting out of the car. 

“well you’re definitely out of your shell, fucking look at you. a full latex outfit and tits out? girl…” yuqi gawked at you for a moment.

dressing as blackcat was far out of your costume comfort zone. normally you went the horror route. billy the puppet, jennifer check (in the prom dress with the contacts, blood and all), freddy krueger, etc. so, wearing a latex set that left nothing to the imagination except for any ink you may have on your skin was out of character, but you wanted to spice it up this year.

“i think the little mask helps be feel a bit hidden,” you giggled seen as it’s a thin black eye mask, not hiding who is under it at all. yuqi jokingly scoffed and you then took the attention off yourself. “look at you, catwoman. you look devious with that whip,” you cooed, then took her hand in yours and gave her a spin on the sidewalk.

“oh stop it,” she blushed. “let’s get inside before it starts getting too crazy.”

you two walked in practically attached at the hip. you scanned the front room for cheol, yuqi doing the same. “ah! there he is,” she pointed toward the kitchen.

you looked over, immediately making eye contact with him. he waved you guys over to stand with him and some frat bro you didn’t recognize. 

“y/n!” he greeted you with a bear hug, unfazed by your tits practically spilling from your top. “and yuqi! hey long time no see!” he said sweetly, giving her a side hug.

“hi! it’s good to see you, cheol,” she giggled. 

“are you gonna introduce us?” you motioned to his friend beside him and smiled. 

the friend smiled and reached a hand out, “hey, i’m chan! nice to meet you both.” after shaking both of your hands, a warm smile across his face, he turned around to finish concocting a drink for himself. 

“you know we have a spare room. if you guys want, you can have some drinks! chan makes a mean lemon drop.” cheol offered you both. 

yuqi got a devilish smile on her face, “don’t mind if i do, fred. one lemon drop, please, daphne!” she giggled leaning backwards on the counter next to chan, watching what he was doing over her shoulder. she faced forward after a moment and motioned her head toward you. “what about you miss latex?” she smirked giving you a once over. the girl wasn’t even drinking yet and she was already getting flirty. typical. (<3)

“don’t even let her answer that,” seungcheol quickly intervened. “make blackcat a drink, please. the pretty lady deserves it,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around you. 

“well thank you, cheolie… but deserve it? for what?” you asked cutely, looking up at him. 

“putting up with my bitchass. thank you for coming tonight. i’m glad you did,” he stated sweetly, giving you a kiss atop your head. you just leaned into him, silently telling him “you’re welcome” and “me too”. 

“what’s up?” you look over at chan who’s finishing your drink up, and he’s got his phone between his ear and shoulder. “oh shit okay! we’ll be right out!” he hung up, sliding the phone in his pocket, then turned around handing you your drink. “pretty lady,” he smiled. “cheol lets go. that was vernon, they’re outside.” he said, patting cheol on the shoulder, making his way out of the kitchen hurriedly. 

“okay! you two wait right here, i’ll be back.” seungcheol requested, then ran after chan. 

“oh god,” you walked forward to the counter and turned so your back was leaning on it with yuqi. you two looked out from the kitchen, into the crowd of people that had seemingly gotten significantly larger since you’d arrived minutes ago. “they’ve all gotta be members of the mystery inc huh…” you trailed off.

“i wonder what poor guy they got to be scooby,” yuqi empathized. 

“i bet it’s soonyoung.”

“be so fucking for real, y/n. he’s a fucking tiger every year,” yuqi said pointedly. she was right. 

just then, the room got significantly more quiet meaning- oh those boys and their group entrances…

it was never anything elaborate, but they did have to make their presence known. cheol almost always walking in first as the rest of the boys followed. 

you and yuqi made your way out of the kitchen to the living room, disregarding cheol’s words from earlier. you two managed to push toward the front of the swarm of people that were gathered near the door. shouts then could be heard from all over, praising the commitment of all the boys. first was cheol as fred, then chan as daphne walking alongside wonwoo as velma, and last but not least vernon as shaggy with… not soonyoung as scooby. “who the fuck is that?” you nearly drooled leaning over into yuqi’s ear. 

“wonwoo?” she suggested. 

“no, dumbass, obviously i know wonwoo… who’s scooby?” your voice dropping a cool octave or two in curiosity. 

“i don’t know but… fuck is he fine,” she said bluntly. 

you both had your eyes locked on him until yuqi’s gaze redirected to wonwoo… her main interest right now and always. “if you’ll excuse me,” she hummed, grazing a hand across your shoulder and handing you her whip as she strolled forward toward the tall boy wearing thicker framed glasses than normal.

you made your way back to the kitchen to wait for one of your friends to come back, knowing one of them would find their way to you. 

or so you thought. 

someone did definitely make their way to you, but it wasn’t cheol, yuqi, or even chan. 

“i didn’t know blackcat carried around a whip,” scooby shot you a cheeky smile while reaching beside you on the counter for a drink. 

you smiled, leaning your hip on the counter to face him. “she doesn’t, but cat woman does and she needed me to hold it for her.”

“well… i’m glad she needed you to because it gave me an excuse to talk to you.” you both chuckled, your face getting flushed. he turned, mirroring your position against the counter. “i’m mingyu. i just joined the frat,” he explained rather shy in comparison to his confident demeanor that he approached you with. it was charming. 

“well hello mingyu,” you chuckled, chugging the rest of your lemon drop. “i’m y/n. i’m friends with cheol.”

“oh no way! you’re like… his best friend,” he laughs trying his drink. you giggled watching his face contort at the potency of the alcohol. “hey don’t laugh! bleh! but it’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“it’s nice to meet you too,” you covered your mouth to snicker a bit more as if that makes it any less “mean”. 

once he recovered a moment later, he sat his cup down and spoke up again. “you know, y/n, you make a beautiful blackcat,” he complimented, giving you a once over as respectfully as he could. from the minute he laid eyes on you when yuqi had walked way from you, he knew he had to talk to you. your little whip that didn’t go with your costume was his perfect excuse, and… you looked amazing. that could’ve even been enough of an excuse on its own. 

your cheeks grew warm at the compliment with his demeanor and tone. it’d shifted to something more sensual than before. his eyes getting darker, but still soft. 

“thank you,” you smiled before reaching up to play with one of his ears. “and you make an adorable puppy.” 

his body stiffened, but it was so subtle you almost didn’t notice. you chose to ignore it, moving to his collar. “did minghao make this?” you asked, tilting your head admiring the well recreated scooby dog tag. you pulled on it a little, as if to test its durability, but really you wanted to see if this was doing something to the tall man before you. sure enough, you watched as he swallowed rather hard under your touch. you wouldn’t have noticed had you not been staring at his throat already. 

“y-yeah he did. he’s really talented,” he said softly, slightly tilting his head back as you took your finger from the collar, and slowly traced it down his chest that was only covered by a thin, tight brown t-shirt. 

“what’s the matter, scooby? cat got your tongue?” you asked in a very playful way, not wanting to come off too strong too fast as you were already mere centimeters away from his body now. 

when he looked down at you, his eyes were pleading. desperate. like he was silently begging for you to do something more. he couldn’t find the words to answer your silly question. instead he sent his eyes to scan your face, lingering longer over your lips. 

“gyu!” you both jumped back from each other. up pranced soonyoung, but he wasn’t a tiger. “and y/n? hey!” he gave you a hug and you squeezed him back. 

“hey soonyoung!” you gathered your composure far quicker than mingyu who was still trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. “a cowboy this year?” you motioned your hands to his costume. 

“had to change it up,” he shrugged. “still got my date, though,” he grinned. you knew it was the stupid plastic skeleton he dragged along every year in the spirit of the holiday. 

“well, wherever you set her down, i can imagine she goes way better with this outfit than the tiger onesie,” you both laugh.

“girl… a whip? i don’t think blackcat-“

“shutup, i know. it’s yuqi’s. she’s catwoman.” you deadpanned. 

he put his hands up as if to surrender, “got it, no need to use it on me.” you two laughed together again.

mingyu wasn’t enjoying this conversation like you and soonyoung were, however. 

he gently grabbed your wrist while patting soonyoung on the shoulder. “excuse us,” were the first words to come out of his mouth in the past couple minutes. it came out low and demanding, an extreme contrast from the state you had him in before soonyoung showed up. 

you looked at soonyoung then shrugged your shoulders in confusion and blew him a quick kiss, whip in hand as mingyu pulled you away. “have fun!” he yelled after you both. 

“mingyu, where the fuck are we going?” you finally ask as he's pulling you up the stairs.

“my room,” he states bluntly. 

“your room? why didn’t you just get ready here then?” your genuine curiosity taking over. 

mingyu stopped you both in front of his door. “except for cheol and chan, we all got ready at vernon’s,” he answered very matter of fact, then his eyebrows furrowed remembering what he was doing. 

he opened his door, pulling you in with him. once he closed the door, he grabbed you and pushed you against it, hands cupping your face, instantly attacking your lips with his own. your hand naturally found its way to his long, wavy hair while your other rested on his chest. you slightly tugged at his hair, a groan escaping his lips. you smiled and chuckled against his mouth, knowing exactly how this was gonna end, despite his attempts at taking control of the situation. 

he ignored your cockiness, moving a hand to the zipper of your top, toying with it just to be a dick. after about 10 seconds of that, you decided it was enough. 

“why don’t you be a good puppy and unzip me already,” you pull on his hair hard enough to pull him away this time. his eyes desperately searched yours, not understanding, himself, why every time you called him that, it made him feel weak in his knees. 

“o-okay,” he stuttered before unzipping your top the rest of the way. his mouth hung open at the way your tits broke free from the tight latex. “god..” he whispered. eyes still locked on your chest, he tried to speak, “c-can i please-”

“yes,” you breathed, not letting him finish his sentence, knowing exactly what he wanted. 

mingyu wasted no time, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, desperately sucking on the skin as if his life depended on it. a low groan escaped your lips as you finally dropped the whip on the floor, and moved that hand to his back, lightly scratching at him through the thin fabric of his shirt. he moaned against your chest, sending a chill down your spine.

“on your knees,” you demanded. he pulled away from your chest with a rather puzzled expression on his face. “don’t make me say it again,” and with that, he practically dropped to the floor, looking up at you with the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen. “good boy,” you praised, petting his head between his ears. you walked over to his bed, sitting yourself down at the edge of it. 

“come,” you said gently. mingyu started to stand up. “nuh uh,” you stopped him. “on all fours.”

“i- but i-,” he tried to protest, stumbling over his words.

“crawl. or i’ll walk out that door right now,” you threatened. 

he immediately got back on his knees, then bent forward, using his arms to help him crawl over to you. he didn’t break eye contact as he made his way to where you sat on his bed, your legs slightly opened. you leaned down, reaching in between your legs for his collar. you hooked two fingers underneath it and pulled him forward. he wrapped his arms around your waist, knees still planted on the floor as he looked at you longingly. 

“what a good puppy,” you cooed, moving your hand from his collar to his hair along with your other hand. you petted him right next to his ears on either side of his head. he hummed, tilting his head to the side, you moving your hand so he could rest his face on it. you thought this was just gonna be a typical dom/sub dynamic, but you quickly started realizing that it was far more than that. 

you leaned down giving him a soft kiss to his lips, making him crave more. he moved his hands up to your face, pulling you back down. you both hungrily attacked each others lips, breathing in every bit of the other. “what the fuck are you doing to me,” he growled between kisses. to be quite honest, you had no idea either. you didn’t even know this man, really. 

“get on the bed,” you demanded, out of breath. he mumbled, “okay,” then stood up and sat in the middle of his bed. “lay down, obviously,” you deadpanned. he felt like an idiot as he laid himself down. he watched you with big eyes as you crawled up his body. you sat yourself on top of him and reached to hook your fingers under his collar again. you used it to pull him up to your level. 

“take your stupid shirt off.” he fumbled with the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. you ripped it from his hands and threw it across the room to god knows where. you pushed him back down, diving after his neck with your mouth. his back arched slightly from the bed as a whimper escaped his lips. as your teeth sunk into his skin, beginning to suck, his chest pressed against yours.

he knew it wasn’t physically possible for him to get closer to your body, but he could try. he was desperate. he craved your warmth. he craved you. a complete stranger. “y/n, please,” he whined.

“please what?” you whispered into his ear, then proceeded to kiss down his neck to his chest. all he could do was make pathetic little noises in response. “cmon, use your words like a good boy, huh?” you cooed looking up at him. you traced your fingers over his large pecs sending chills through his whole body.

“f-fuck,” he threw his head back into the pillow. “fuck me, y/n, please!” he panted, grabbing at the sheets beneath him.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased as you slipped a hand under his pants, grabbing him through his boxers. you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your mouth when you felt how big he was. he looked down at you with flushed cheeks, embarrassed at how easily he was being turned on by your words alone. 

“i- i would love that, y/n,” his eyes were so desperate, so needy. “c-can i take my pants off?” god, he was so obedient. it excited you beyond your own comprehension. before you could even think about it, you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his pants and started shimmying them down his thick, muscular thighs. 

“fuck,” you mumbled under your breath. the tent in his boxers was intimidating to say the least. you sat on his thighs as you pulled his cock out, admiring the way it grew even more at your direct touch. mingyu was panting like a bitch underneath you and you hadn't even started stroking him yet. “easy there, big boy,” you giggled at his uneasiness. as you started pumping him with one hand, you used the other to stabilize yourself above him.

a deep groan ripped from his throat as he screwed his eyes shut at the sensation. “does that feel good, puppy?” you asked innocently. mingyu whimpered and looked into your eyes again, mere inches away. he used all his extra strength to push his head up to capture your lips with his. this kiss was far deeper than the others. it felt… more intimate than before.

“please y/n i need you,” he whispered against your lips. honestly, you needed him too, so instead of continuing the torture any longer, you got off the bed to remove your top completely, and took your pants off. before getting back on top of him, you pulled his pants the rest of the way down, then stood at the edge of the bed, gawking.

this man’s body was godly. skin the perfect shade of gold, soft muscle curves, the slight glisten on his skin as the moonlight from the window reflects off of his sweat. and his face… fuck, his face. the way his eyes glisten with lust and need, his lips swollen and slightly parted as he’s nearly drooling, waiting for you to do something, and to top it all off, his puppy ears on his head with the collar on his neck making him all the more irresistible. 

you climbed back on top of him, his eyes not leaving yours, whether you were looking back at him or not. he only looked away when you started grinding your soaked cunt against his cock. he watched intensely as your slick coated him from top to bottom, his tip leaking precum each time you slid forward. “ready for me to fuck you, gyu?” you nearly whined out, your hands firmly placed on his chest to balance yourself.

“b-been ready, mo-” he stopped himself. “fuuuck please, y/n, please.” he begged. 

“what a good fucking boy you are. don’t even have to ask you to beg.” you lifted yourself, and as if there was a form of telepathy happening, he reached down to lift his cock straight up, ready for you to do nothing but line yourself up and sink down in him. however… you both knew that was going to be painful for you. your nails began to dig lightly into his chest as you slowly sunk yourself down on him. a long string of whimpers falling from your lips while he gripped your hips, helping you steady yourself as you now sat all the way down on his cock. you swiveled your hips a couple times before slowly lifting them and slamming back down onto him without warning. a gasp escaping your own lips.

“ah! Fuck!” mingyu cried out, throwing his head back into the pillows again. the grip he had on your hips only tightened.

you moved your hands to his neck, applying only slight pressure as you started moving up and down on his cock. his breathing became sporadic, and you could feel his veins on his neck starting to bulge under your fingers as you started to pick up your pace. “collar getting too tight?” you breathed. 

“n-no,” mingyu choked out. “mmmph~ i like it,” his voice was hoarse, but soft. his hands finally moved from your hips to roam your body. he dragged them up your waist until he was cupping your tits. he started kneading the flesh, licking his lips as he watched your face start to contort with pleasure. you let go of his neck and put your hands on top of his, over your chest. 

the scene was so beautiful before him, he was growing more and more impatient, needing to chase his high. you threw your head back crying out a “fuck!” as mingyu started meeting each bounce of yours with a sharp thrust. 

“a-am i doing a good job?” he whined, “does it feel good?” all he wanted was your validation and praise. 

“y-yes~ fuck- such a good boy for me,” you cooed as stable as possible. you brought a hand down and combed your fingers through his hair right below his puppy ears. his thrusts slowed and so did you. you hadn’t realized how much of the “fucking” was being done by him now instead of you. he hummed and closed his eyes while you ran your fingers through his hair again. both of your movements came to a complete stop. nothing but cockwarming and heavy breaths while you petted the pretty boy beneath you. 

once he opened his eyes, you gave him a soft smile and he nestled his face into your hand. looking up at you with those puppy eyes, the next words that came out of his mouth were jarring to say the least. “w-will you sit on my face? please?” you could’ve sworn he batted his lashes too. 

you giggled before teasing him, “are you seriously asking to pleasure me right now?” 

“no im fucking begging, y/n please.” he whined. 

“well, when you beg like such a good boy, how could i tell you no, hm?” you hummed before moving your hands to his headboard, climbing up his body, stabilizing yourself over his face. 

he wasted no time trying to attack your core with his tongue, but you didn’t want to let him have it that easily. you moved a hand down to tug at his hair, pulling him off of you. “nuh uh. stick out your tongue,” you demanded. 

“w-what?” his eyes were big with uncertainty. 

“did i stutter? stick out your tongue and stay like a good puppy.” you spit at him, no patience left in your voice. 

so, mingyu did just that. slowly but surely he opened his mouth wide, laying his tongue out for you like the good boy he was. 

you lowered yourself back down onto his tongue, slowly moving your soaked cunt back and forth. he just looked up at you with such adoration in his eyes, but tongue out like an absolute idiot. it was driving you crazy. 

mingyu was going arguably more crazy, though. he wanted to devour you. taste every single inch of you, and lap up every last drop of your arousal like there was no tomorrow. 

you let out a whimper that drove him over the edge, and he couldn’t contain himself anymore. he brought his strong arms up, wrapping them around your thighs, locking you in place on his face. you gripped onto his bed frame tighter as he began to suck on your clit with such vigor, you almost came on the spot. 

fuck he’s good at this. 

he then started fucking his tongue in and out of you, using his own strength alone to bounce you up and down slightly on the muscle. 

“mmph~ fuuuck~ mingyu please, don’t stop,” you pleaded, knuckles white from holding onto his headboard for dear life. who was he to deny you? he moved one of his hands from your thigh to the bundle of nerves above where his tongue was fucking in and out of you. as soon as he started rubbing gentle but fast circles on your clit, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. the familiar knot in your tummy forming far faster than you’d like to admit. 

“p-puppy i’m c-close. gonna make me cum,” you half panted, half wailed. 

he moved his mouth away to talk, fingers still working on your clit. 

“cum for me please baby, cum all over my tongue,” his voice had dropped to a dangerously low tone. he went back to tongue fucking you and your grip on his headboard became so tight you thought you might break it. 

“gyu! fuck! i’m- fuck!” a wave of pure euphoria flooded your whole body faster than you could comprehend. mingyu lapped up every last bit of cum dripping from your cunt.

“jesus christ,” you panted.

“okay y/n, all fours.”

“what?” you looked down at mingyu’s big brown eyes in complete shock.

“i- i’m sorry please can i fuck you on all fours?”

“mingyu i’m not worried about how you wanna fuck me-”

“then, please? can i? I’ve been a good boy…”

“you definitely have,” you reassured, moving a piece of his hair out of his face. “i just don’t know if i have the energy for that right now.”

“you don’t have to do anything, just- y/n just let me take care of you…” his voice was so soft and genuine. nothing like you were used to from a hookup.

“fine… then can i just lay on my back?” you both chuckled.

“whatever you want.”

once you guys repositioned yourselves, mingyu on top of you for the first time tonight, you couldn’t help but let your mind race. i could get used to this view… y/n stop it’s just a fucking hookup, you’ll only ever see him again in passing. but his voice… the way he’s speaking to me is so… sweet… so? he’s probably just fucking pussy whipped. and pussy whipped he was, but it wasn’t that simple.

“are you ready, baby?” his eyes scanning yours intently as if to catch any trace of uncertainty that may reside in your eyes.

“y-yes. at least i hope,” you giggled. a fangy smile gracing his face. fuck, his smile.

as mingyu started to push himself into you, you winced at the stretch. it was almost like he’d gotten bigger since you were on top of him earlier. “ah~ fuck gyu,” you whined.

“too much? do you want me to stop?”

“no, no please don’t stop,” you just gripped onto his arms and closed your eyes.

a couple seconds later and he finally bottomed out, causing both of you to let out a string of low moans as you both adjusted to the feeling of his rather fucking huge dick inside of you. (how else was i supposed to word that like c’mon now)

within a minute mingyu was drilling into you at an animalistic pace. the grip you had on his biceps probably close to breaking skin with your nails. your back arched at its limit. both of you sounding like you're in one of the most hardcore pornos ever filmed. the bed creaking, slamming into the wall… you get it.

the rest of the world had completely withered away at this point when suddenly… 

BANG BANG BANG! “jesus christ, mingyu! that you in there?” seungcheol… fuck.

mingyu stilled all movement, “uhhh yeah… what do you want?” he dropped his head onto the pillow right next to your head. you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Sorry.. just uh… have you seen y/n?!” he yelled from the other side of the door. mingyu’s head shot up, both of you looking at each other with complete panic in your eyes.

“you could… you could say that i’ve seen her… yeah?” mingyu yelled back, wincing as he awaited his response.

when seuncheol didn’t answer right away, you decided to speak up. “hi cheol…” you said softly but loud enough for him to hear you.

“you’re fucking kidding,” seungcheol scoffed before walking away yelling, “you two fuckbirds have fun!”

you and mingyu just laid there for a second before bursting out laughing.

“okay that was embarrassing,” you covered your face.

“oh don’t act like you didn’t like it,” he grinned, leaning down to start kissing on your neck. “you think i can’t feel how much wetter you got?” he bucked his hips into you without warning, making you yelp. he just chuckled, lifting his head up to look at you again.

your mouth was hung open like an idiot, unsure of how to respond, actually embarrassed now.

“look who’s the tough guy now, huh?” he taunted, beginning to slowly pump in and out of you again. your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached for his hair. sensing that the puppy fun would be ending now, you tried to focus your vision enough to unclip the ears from his hair and throw them elsewhere in his room. “oh, are we done with those now?” he asked in such a bitchy tone, you could’ve slapped him back into his submissive state, but you were over the playing now.

“mingyu, just fuck me,” you panted now able to put your hands in his hair how you please.

“that’s no way to get what you want now, gorgeous.”

“mingyu, please just fuck me already!” you whined, wrapping your legs around his torso. 

the groan that escaped his lips at that action was inhuman as he sped back up to his pace from before, however, far harder. 

“fuck! Mingyu!” you cried out, unable to do or say anything else.

“what? wanted me to f-fuck you, no?” he teased, stopping to lift one of your legs over his shoulder, then removing your mask in one quick motion before pounding into you again. the new angle pushed you to your limit once again, far too fast for your own sanity. “let go for me again baby, i can feel it. you’re c-close aren’t you?” he cooed softly in contrast to his brutal movements. “touch yourself for me,” he breathed. 

you moved a hand down to your clit, rubbing away at the bud while your other arm moved to his back, pulling his body closer to yours as you reached your high. the close proximity bringing his clingy self closer to his own breaking point. 

now forehead to forehead, the knot in your stomach about to snap, you moved your other hand up to his back, fingertips lightly pressing into the skin. mingyu brought a hand to your neck, holding it gently, but firm as he railed into you for the last few times. 

“-m cumming!” you cried, now digging your nails into his back. 

“fuck!” he growled at the lovely sting of the scratches you were leaving. your cunt fluttering around his cock however was the final straw. “ah~ baby~” he groaned before crashing his lips into yours as his orgasm hit. 

“so… you always have wipes conveniently available on your nightstand?” you giggled, curled up in his arms under his blankets. 

“you know, it was actually pure luck,” he started. “cheol did a grocery run today and when he brought me my bag there were a couple of our toiletries and i was gonna go put them in the bathroom bu-”

“hey, gyu?” you looked up at him. 

“yeah?”

“shhhhh…” you smiled, placing a soft kiss to his lips before laying your head back down on his chest.

he kissed the top of your head and whispered with a chuckle, “sorry. i talk too much.”

“uh uh just… sleepy,” you yawned. 

how you two managed to tune out the party is beyond anyone’s guess. he didn’t have to run his fingers in your hair for a full minute before you knocked out, but he did anyway until he fell asleep himself. 

tag list: @skzooluvr @jenoslutie @iluvhoshi @goblynnrockz @map0fthes0ul7 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @actuallynarii @glttrlix @ninigyuuu @starcandybby (i hope that was everyone! i feel like my list got messed up but hopefully it's right!)

[nanenna]

This Meeting Could've Been an E-mail

Sleepy King (Nanenna ver.) Masterpost

---

Diana, along with several other members of the JLD, were sitting in a meeting room. John had stood at the head of the table, having just finished outlining the situation for them, and it was grim. She knew if worse came to worse they may have to sacrifice the boy to keep the Ghost King from emerging into their world and wreaking havoc on a scale only Darkseid had managed before, but she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

“Would not the boy also smell my father’s blood?” Raven asked.

“Unfortunately. You an’ me are gonna stay back and help plan based on what everyone else reads from the boy.”

Diana nodded along, likely that was also her role.

Bruce, in full Batman gear, came stalking into the room.

“About bloody time,” John said with a huff.

“I would hope you have brought them all up to speed on what you know of Danny while waiting.”

John made an annoyed sound, then moved to sit in a chair near the head of the table. “`Course I did, just waiting on you now.”

Bruce stood in the spot John had just vacated. “Oracle.” The room dimmed and the holo-projector  in the table whirred to life. A picture of a small family standing in front of what appeared to be some sort of business run out of what used to be a family home (something fairly common in America, Diana had learned) took center stage. Obviously it was part of a website, Diana could see the web bar with several tabs across the top of the projection, but it was zoomed into the photo.

“This,” Bruce said, pointing to the teenaged boy in the photo from behind, “is Daniel “Danny” Fenton, the boy used in the ritual last night.”

Everyone leaned in closer to look the boy over. There was nothing remarkable about him, a bit thin perhaps but that could be due to the lankiness that comes with growth spurts.

“He’s from Amity Park, Illinois. The town advertises itself as the most haunted city in America, and from what we’ve gathered they earned it. Most pertinent is that last year they were under attack by the Ghost King.”

Oracle must have clicked to the next tab, the family picture was replaced by an online newspaper article titled “Ghost King Thwarted! Is Phantom a Hero?”

“I’m sorry, what happened?” Zatanna asked incredulously.

“There must be some mistake, there’s no way Pariah Dark got free without a single person feeling it,” Dr. Fate insisted.

Oracle scrolled down the page to show several blurry photos taken of a being that looked nothing like what they’d seen last night, alongside a sketch of the being. “Either this was well researched, or somehow this whole event was cloaked,” Bruce said grimly.

“Considering this wasn’t even the most recent attack on the town and a few of them sound like JL level threats,” Oracle’s modulated voice came from the table’s speakers as she quickly tabbed through a few more news articles before coming back to the one on the Ghost King, “I think it’s more likely something is blocking the whole town from us.” She scrolled down more to show several missing or broken photos. “Especially this Phantom person that keeps showing up in every article about ghosts. Even using the way back machine there’s not a single photo of him anywhere on the internet.”

“If the Ghost King has been out,” Captain Marvel asked, “where did he go? I doubt he’s spent the last year just hanging out in a small town in middle America.”

“According to this news article,” Bruce said, “Phantom, along with help from the whole town, managed to get the Ghost King back into the Sarcophagus and sealed him away again.”

John whistled, “That’s quite the feat, even with help.”

“Are you saying Danny was chosen as Pariah’s anchor because he’s from Amity Park?” Raven asked.

“Not just because he’s from Amity Park, his parents are also self proclaimed paranormal scientists and ghost hunters.”

Oracle tabbed to a few different pages, each one with a different picture of one of Danny’s parents proudly holding ominously glowing green weapons or with vials of glowing green goo. Sometimes one in the background of another.

John squinted at the photos, “Is that pure æther?!”

“How?!” Captain Marvel and Zatanna both asked incredulously.

“They call it ectoplasm,” Bruce stated.

John scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Ectoplasm is a word scam artists in the 1800s made up to steal money from grieving widows.”

“Nevertheless that is what they're calling it. Especially of note that the Fentons run their research out of their home.”

“Where their children live?” Diana asked, horrified at the implications.

“How are they still sane?” Captain Marvel asked incredulously.

“We're not sure they are,” Batman said grimly. Oracle tabbed to a street view of the Fenton home, easily identified by the large sign on the side. The strange addition to the home's roof was an… interesting choice.

The other attendees of the meeting were becoming agitated, several of them shifting in place as they got ready to speak.

“Before this goes any further,” Bruce stated firmly, “all this to say the cult that kidnapped Danny Fenton did so with intention. Amity Park certainly needs a full investigation, but it will have to wait until after this crisis with the Ghost King is dealt with.”

“Æther exposure might explain why the kid could handle being Pariah’s anchor.” John sighed then stood up. “Alright, if that’s all the info you got…”

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement.

“The clock’s ticking.” John left the room, the others all following after.

Diana hung back to speak with Bruce. “We’ll find a solution.”

Bruce just hummed to show he heard her. She knew he wasn’t handling the situation well, a child’s life was at stake and he had to hand the situation over to others. There was only so much she could reassure him, so she chose instead to go see the boy for herself.

The JLD members that had attended the meeting were all gathered in a kitchenette discussing logistics. Diana left them to it for the moment and simply went down the hall to the room she knew the boy was sleeping in. The lights in the hallway were already dimmed, thankfully, so she simply quietly opened the door and poked her head inside. Clark was sitting on a chair next to the boy’s bed. His posture was a relaxed sprawl, but his face was furrowed in concentration. He looked up and smiled when he saw Diana.

“How are you?” She asked at barely a whisper, knowing he’d hear her just fine.

“Guilty, now that I know he mistook me for his father.”

“Sadly this is an ask for forgiveness situation.” She gently pat Clark’s arm, trying to console him.

The boy himself looked like any other teenager, dead to the world while tucked safely into bed. She only hoped they would find some solution and tomorrow he would be tucked just as safely into his own bed.

[endereies]

A TOUCH I CAN TRUST - MS

No Nut November - Day 24

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ A painting brings some old memories to light when you and Matt visit the museum (sexual assault mentions - tw)

You couldn’t take your eyes off it, like it was staring back at you. You knew why.

It was so perfectly manicured, each brushstroke airbrushed to perfection. A gorgeous woman stood slightly of centre, staring at the viewer. Long brown hair that flowed past her chest and down to her hips was neatly pushed behind her ears. Even so, it left a small gap where her collarbone showed through, the highlight evident with pure titanium white. Her dress was one similar to one in your own closet, a sweet ivory. A few plaid lines just below the sewed in corset. The only difference was that this was longer, stretching to her ankles. She didn’t feel beautiful, anyone could see that on her face. The vibrant white stood against the muted colours once more, presenting a single tear. Why cry when one is so beautiful, so modest.

The man made that clear. He was centred in the frame, stood proud and confident. He was meant to be there. His hair was less neat than hers, a few curls tossed around his face. Positioned behind her, his hands grip her hips, bunches of clothing bundled around his hands. He was a man of power, the sprays of purple in his suit showing it. Proudness shone over his expressions, a mindset that was common.

That’s when you saw it, the red tints over the wrong parts of them. It wasn’t obvious unless you looked close enough, the slight pink in her clothing. Like a poorly covered mistake. Mistake? It covered her neck too, thought to be poorly interpreted lighting. Maybe it was a poorly interpreted ‘no’. his hands were covered in it, too vibrant to be a shadow.

The closer you looked at her solemn face, the more it all morphed. Her features changed. A soft button nose turning sharp, the eye colour mixing with swatches, becoming muddy. He changed too. His hair wasn’t curly anymore which now illustrated all his features, all the wrong ones. It was too familiar to ignore. How could you ignore anything about the twin etched in oils?

Your own skin grew red as you kept scratching at it, the same areas he did, begging you to ‘sit still’. Swallows grew dry in your throat, making you almost gag on the dry feeling. You just couldn’t look away. The background was blank, but the painting moved so it couldn’t be avoided. Moving your hands away from your body didn’t help, they only went to your lips, a silent barrier between your imagination. The woman twitched through your glossed eyes. God, you hated calling her that. She had a name, she is a person, real or not. She may have been a creation, but don’t creations get given titles of meaning, of value? Why was she different? Why did her name have to be connected with her past?

You didn’t dare blink. If you did, not only would you cry but without a witness, she could get hurt. Don’t be ridiculous, she wasn’t real. You were. Who was watching you? Who was watching you, except him? He stared at you again, straight forward, taunting you.

Nothing helped you feel any better, not when he was there. You were too emersed in it to notice to hot tears that flushed your face. You understood the red, it tainted your own skin. Was it comforting that someone else felt the same as you?

“Sweetheart…?” Honey seeped into your ears, soothing the tremors like a sore throat. One look at the painting and he understood, he’d seen this piece before. It was a main headline on the museum’s website when he booked tickets here. He knew the meaning and it’s all too familiar comparisons. It was easy to piece from there.

Matt didn’t want to startle you with his touch, he learnt that quickly. He needed you to ease into it,  but it was hard if you didn’t know it was there to begin with. On a whim, he lightly feathered your arm, a place he didn’t know to be a trigger. Yet you still reacted.

Your body was jolted out of thought, the clench of your eyes making another tear fall. It didn’t matter that it was in public, it mattered that it was happening. Every part of you wanted to soften your body but it was just so stiff.

“Hey, breath, it’s just me, okay? Do you want to hold my hand.” Through the anxiety you sprung to grip his hand, your longer nails almost forcing into Matt’s skin. The curls of his hair returned, there was safety in Matt. He was a little shorter too. He wasn’t the same.

“Here, I just want you to relax” He didn’t dare touch you anymore than what you allowed, so he shifted his body so not only weren’t you no longer looking at the painting, but people also couldn’t look at you. “You’re safe, no one is going to hurt you.”

His comments just drew you closer to him, away from everything else. It was too much to try and focus on anything else. Why did you have to react so pathetically?

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” You scrapped any coherent syllables together.

“I know sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” You moved a hand to wipe your face, freeing your sight.

“I thought I was better, thought I moved on…” your body shrunk into itself, a shell of what you were fifteen minutes prior.

Matt’s soul crushed itself at your words, they stung so deep knowing that was how you thought of yourself. “You are better, this whole process isn’t linear, I’d be surprised if it was. You’ve come so far, kid, and I’ve seen it first-hand. You’re so amazing and you’re so strong. But you don’t have to carry this weight alone. Why don’t be grab something to eat so you can relax?”  

“Yes please, thank you…” Matt replied with a squeeze of your hand, a silent sign of his devotion to you, a touch you could trust.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[chrissdollie]

𐔌　‧ॱ ୨♡୧ ˚　ride　₊˚ ♡

⊹˚₊ summary: with your daddy away, matthew sturniolo visits your family's cozy farm where he convinces you to join him for a horse ride. you nervously gallop through town together and find yourself falling for the boy your father may never approve of. ︵︵ notes: farmers!daughter!reader x cowboy!matt, sfw, fluff, daddy issues, small bit of angst at the end, kind of a rapunzel and flynn ryder kinda thing (as mentioned by matt hehe), ending is not proofread ︵︵　word count: 2k

　　"those fuckin scoundrels," your father spits, stern eyes glaring out your tiny kitchen window as herders pass by, their horses kicking up dirt and dust. you lift your head from the overflowing sink to watch for the few seconds the men ride by. your father shuts the fridge with a sigh. you reavert your gaze to the distressed man, your fluffy lashes fluttering as you blink with concern.

"are you alright daddy?” you chirp, lazily brushing the sponge in your hand against a dainty pink plate as you watch the man wave his hand dismissively.

“fine, darlin, fine. check on the eggs when yer done there, alright?” he grunts, making his way towards the front door. you hum contently, quickly drying your hands and disregarding the dirty dishes before skipping through the homely cottage, bathed beautifully in the warm sun. “bye bye!” you kiss your dad's cheek, patting his back lightly as he pulls his jacket off the hook. the door opens and closes, and suddenly you're all alone again.

you don't mind it, humming quietly to yourself as you pick up your basket and step out the back door, your pretty boots crunching on the green grass. the only thing keeping you sane is the farm. your father doesn't let you go out-- he says exploring just leads to problems, and you listen because you'd never want to trouble your dear old dad. you're detached from the real world, though you don't really know it, do you? you're a quiet young thing with no ambitions unlike the other girls in town with dreams of leaving home and making a change.

the hens cluck familiarly as you step into the spacious chicken coop, smiling at your fluffy birds. like a giddy child, you talk to your animals, especially considering they're the only real friends you've got. "daddy's out in town; he wanta get some lambs, sheila! wouldn' that be nice?" you coo, politely moving your chicken to collect her eggs.

when you finish, you open the screened door to let the chickens out. they scramble past the threshold, freely wandering the farm as they please. your face brightens as you catch sight of your horse, petal, staring directly at you as if patiently waiting for your attention. you wouldn't admit it (especially not in front of the other animals), but she was your favorite part of the farm. you've had her since you were little, slowly watching her delicate white mane grow-- you click your teeth when you notice the pink flowers you'd left woven in her mane fading. then your eyes widen as you spot a smidge of brown hair moving behind her.

"hello..?" you call out as you clutch your basket tighter and hurry over to petal's fenced-in area. you gasp when you reach a man bent down on his knees, inspecting your horse's hooves. he looks up at you, and your heart pounds a little louder. you've seen him before, you have the biggest slightest remembrance of square dancing with the boy at one of the town gatherings. "oh," you sigh, clutching your heart. "hi matt," you mutter shyly.

it's been a while since you've seen matthew sturniolo-- ever since your father decided that now as a "big girl", boys would be eyeing you as you danced, therefore there was no more for you. the brunette hair is longer now, and his face has lost some of its pleasant youthfulness.

matt chuckles awkwardly as he stands, dusting himself off. "heya sweetheart-- m sorry to scare ya like this," he says with a gentle smile, holding his hand out to your free one. ever the charmer, he leaves a delicate kiss on your knuckles, and your nerves settle a bit.

the brunette exhales heavily, taking a quick look around the farm. "ts been a while, huh? i was, uh, lookin at your steed's foot there. seems like she needs a bit of care," matt gestures towards petal.

"oh," you whisper to yourself, eyes averting to your pet's hoof. he takes in your cute appearance, subtly grinning at your little stud earrings and bouncy pink dress. "is it.. bad?" you mutter before letting out a tiny gasp.. how rude you've been! "oh! um, are you thirsty? or do you want something to eat maybe?" you take a step back, ready to head inside. but he shakes his head, waving his hand.

"thank you, but i'm fine. actually came here to ask ya-- um... y'wanna go fer a ride?" matt asks hopefully, eyes searching yours for any signs of rejection.

your father would never agree. you gulp, dropping your head to your feet. "oh, i'm not sure.. daddy would--"

"im not askin what he wants." he cuts you off sharply along with a stern look. "do you wanna go fer a ride?... with me?"

you exhale, looking over to petal. it almost looks like she gives you a nod of encouragement. "i-i'm not very good.." you stammer embarrassedly, picking up your head. he chuckles again, tapping his foot against the grass lightly. "ill teach ya,"

you nod, lips parted. matt's head tilts towards a chicken by his boot, his grin widening. "they gonna be alright out?"

"oh! uh, one second.." you head behind the coop into a tiny shed, pulling out a handful of oats. spreading your palm, you call the chickens over, the oats being bait to lure them back into their home. the birds cluck loudly, stumbling over themselves as they follow you into the stall. "here you go babies," you coo quietly, spreading the oats around the ground. you dust off your hands before stepping out the screened door to a smiling, almost sheepish matt.

you awkwardly brush off your dress, looking around. "so.. where's your horse?"

matt nudges his head to the side. "wrapped to that tree righ’ there," he looks toward his brown steed tied to a thick oak tree. he hums contently, mindlessly playing with petal's clean mane, turning back to you. "so, shall we?"

you sway back and forth, still nervous about leaving the animals all alone. "needa put the eggs away first.. oh nd i need a saddle-- are you sure you don' wanna come in real fast?"

the brunette shakes his head, "nah, that's alrigh'. i'll help you and.." he pauses, motioning to the dying flowers in your horse's mane. "petal, right?" he asks with a giggle. you grin toothily and nod in confirmation, him nodding back.

"well, i'll help you two get geared up," he offers, flashing that enchanting smile you loved seeing back whenever you accidentally stepped on his shoes while dancing. he'd always reassure you, saying "that's alright," just as he did now, and give you that sweet grin that made your worries disappear.

matt steps away from your horse, his chaps swinging back and forth as he makes his way towards you. "so.. how've you been lately?"

leaving your beloved home for the first time in forever wasn't as hard as you initially thought it'd be. having matt as company helped, he soothed your worries with ease when you debated just staying with the animals like always. he caught you up on how to ride your horse, how to hold the reins, the right times to squeeze your legs, and steering. you got the hang of it again with little trouble (you almost fell off petal when mounting..) and you found yourself having great fun in the unexpected event.

"let's race!!" you grin, slowing down with matt trailing close behind you. he readjusts his black cowboy hat as he raises an eyebrow with his horse, jeff, pulling up next to you. "i dunno 'bout that, m pretty sure i'd win," he chuckles, petting petal with unintelligible coos.

the valley the two of you had been riding in for the past hour was gorgeous, with hardly any trees surrounding the large meadow, allowing you to feel free. you giggle with a nod, “yeah probably,”

matt stares at the side of your face for a moment before humming and taking off straight ahead with a loud laugh. you gasp with a wide grin before giddying up, racing behind matt.

you two race all the way home, the sun setting above you as you hear the familiar noises of the farm. “so it’s a tie then?” matt smirks, hopping off jeff. he walks over to your side, grabbing your hips before you could protest and helping you off.

you stick your tongue out a little. “i coulda won if ya didn’t take off before me.. but yeahhh it’s a tie,”

the boy ruffles your hair playfully, forcing a small giggle out of you that’s cut off shortly when you notice your father’s pick up truck in front of the house. you exhale, mentally preparing yourself for the upcoming stream of harsh curses. you turn to matt, kissing his cheek quickly. his eyes slightly widen, clearly taken by surprise.

“daddy’s home but um..” you’re immensely shy again, eyes locked on the dirt ground slowly getting darker as the sun fades away. “thank you for today. i really loved it..”

if you thought matt’s expression towards you couldn’t get any softer, it just did. he always wished there was something he could do about your restrictive father, but alas, he’s still just a boy. he can’t be your knight in shining armor yet.

he nods, placing a finger under your chin to lift your gaze. your eyes are glossy, bottom lip only slightly trembling, though matt’s able to catch it. he offers a gentle smile, rubbing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. “we should do this again sometime, ay? me, you, jeff, and petal,”

“i think the fuck not.”

you and matt both jump at the raspy voice. you turn towards the back door where your father stands with a shotgun in hand. matt places his hand on his hat, “sir—“

“matthew get your goddamn ass off my land ‘fore i shoot you dead,” your dad spits, lifting the gun to rest in both hands. matt inhales heavily before snatching your hand into his. you let out a soft gasp, whispering, “what are ya doin?”

he ignores you, challenging your enraged father with a cold gaze. “i apologize for keepin your darlin out so late, sir.” he starts, keeping a firm stare. he couldn’t be your knight in shining armor then, he thought he couldn’t even save you now. but his giddy heart tells him to fight for you.

your daddy cuts him off again, “i don’t give a—“, only this time, matt keeps talking.

“i never was able to take her for a ride before you hid her away like fuckin rapunzel. guess that makes you mother gothel then, huh?”

as matt speaks, your eyes were blurred with tears, threatening to spill over any second. you kept your composure though, knowing your father hates when you cry. matt standing up for you made you proud and sick with adoration. but it’s also making matters worse for you, because now your father’ll come down on you even harder.

“you can shoot flynn ryder. go ‘head. you know who my parents are. and you know karma’s a bitch ain’t it?” he challenges, raising both eyebrows, keeping his hand in yours reassuringly.

your father scoffs, gripping his shotgun tighter before turning to you. “get yer stupid ass inside now.” he grits his teeth, his nose practically flaring steam.

you hesitantly drop matt’s hand, pulling petal in behind her fence quickly before running into the house, keeping your head down as you rushed past your father.

when you’re gone, he sucks his teeth, threatening matt to stay away before he steps into the house, clutching onto the door. before shutting it, he lets out an unexpected chuckle. “and by the way, jeff is a dumb ass name,”

matt huffs as the door slams shut. his eyes quickly avert to your room’s window as the light turned on, your dad’s yelling muffled by the walls. it’s then that matt realizes, he didn’t really save you at all.

help this is kinda short oopsies.. not doing a part 2 unless someone comes in my inbox with an idea (plz be specific 😞)

[irrelevantwriter]

Empress

Pairing: Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2) x Female Reader/You

Warnings: SFW, Ancient Rome type shit

Word Count: 1345

Summary: Part 1. The Empress of Rome pushes her husband a little too far.

A/N: I...I don't know what to say honestly. I'm just as confused by this red-headed slut as some of you are. But here we are. So let's enjoy shall we? Because life be life-ing and I need a distraction. I obviously took liberties with ancient Rome. Let me live. There is a part two with lots of smut so get ready besties. Feedback is that good shit.💗

*Read Part Two here

*Masterlist

***********************

You hummed softly to yourself, at peace now that you’d dismissed your maidens. You worked in harmony with yourself, the movements almost convincing yourself you were anywhere else other than Palatine Hill. 

Despite your position, you tended to your own bed linens. The Emperor had admonished you many times before, but you failed to care. 

The tasks you so often liked to keep yourself busy with were seen below your station. An insult to the royal position you held. And yet, for you, they reminded you of a simpler time. They reminded you of home. Of being a young girl not yet soured by what lay beyond her village walls. 

The sentiment made your chest tighten. Today was a day that you longed for that life. You missed your family. You missed flying freely. 

You may be the Empress of Rome, but travertine and marble were still molded to be your cage. An inescapable prison. 

Soft footsteps found your ears as you delicately smoothed the freshly washed bedding to your likeness. Scents of jasmine and lavender permeated the air. They were some of your favorite scents. Something only your husband knew. He’d asked not long after you’d married. He’d made it his duty to ensure those scents followed you everywhere. Even in your dreams. 

“Augusta…” 

His voice floated through the doorway, a hint of disappointment in your title. 

A reminder.

You straightened to face him, bowing your head to show respect. 

“Must I keep reminding you of your place?” 

You sensed him moving closer, his ringed hand extending to tilt your chin. Your eyes met his; depthless pools of darkness. Some days you could see streaks of gold in them from the sun’s rays. Those days were your favorites. Other days they were bottomless. Reminding you of a snake pit. Those were your least favorite.

Today was the latter. 

“I have my reasons, Augustus. Forgive me.”

He chuckled, very aware of your reasons for disobeying him time and time again. 

His hand cupped your cheek, the cool metal of his rings making you flinch. You met his eyes at his prompting. His jaw was clenched, the muscle giving away just how displeased he was with you.

“You are lucky you’re so beautiful, my love. A lesser person would have their tongue cut out.”

You knew. Of course you knew. You did it anyway. 

“A lesser person doesn’t have the heart of the Emperor of Rome.”

Geta hissed, and just as quick as a snake lying in wait, he struck. His hand encircled your throat, squeezing just enough. 

You grasped at his wrist, understanding the game he wanted to play. It was why he kept you. 

In public you were the epitome of grace and devotion. Rome adored you. Your husband adored you. You were dutiful. Well-spoken and a sight to behold. You had everyone’s hearts. Geta knew that. And so did you. 

Behind closed doors, you did as you pleased most days. You went against your husband’s orders, though you never put your own life at risk. You were not so foolish to do so. At least not outside the palace. 

The Emperor was well and truly a spoiled brat. You were not. You liked to remind him of that fact often. And with pleasure. He claimed he hated it. But you saw the fire in his eyes. It was that elusive look he’d get only with you. Swirling embers of flames that mixed in his too dark eyes. 

Lust.

“You forget your role, wife,” he spat between clenched teeth, fingers tightening around your neck. 

“I forget nothing, husband. Least of all what my role is,” you retorted, seeing his gaze shift from your eyes to your lips. Stained with berry juice and sweetened with wine. 

He wanted a taste. 

Geta smirked, loosening his hold. But he did not release you. Instead, he brought you closer, fingers now exploring the hollows of your collarbone. In the confines of your chambers you were more exposed than you would be otherwise. He feasted on the sight. 

He dragged his jeweled fingers across your skin, enjoying the goosebumps that arose in their wake. He touched the royal broach at your shoulder. You shivered. 

“I continue to show you grace and you continue to disrespect your emperor. Have I provided you with such a horrid life? Do the pleasures of my empire displease you?”

His eyes narrowed, his fingers shadowing over your bosom. There were traces of coal around his eyes, making him look that much more sinister. 

But not to you. 

His power frightened you, but the man himself did not. He forgot what kind of life his empire made for its people outside the city. You’d seen the worst of what Roman royalty could do. You’d experienced it firsthand. A man dressed in gold was hardly a sight to run away from. Threat or not.

“Have you gone mute?”

He interrupted your musings, seemingly pleased to have rendered you silent. 

You smiled in return, daring to let your own hand touch upon him. He didn’t stop you, though he watched you with careful eyes. You traced his lips, feeling his breath quicken. You may not be afraid of Geta, but he was surely afraid of you. 

“You have taken a jungle cat and chained her to your side, Augustus. Does that not seem cruel?” You whispered, the space between you both getting smaller as you stepped forward. 

“Is it wrong that I long for my own creature comforts? However lowly they are to you. Is it wrong that I wish to roam freely? To love freely?”

“Love freely?” He cut in, scoffing at the notion. “You do not love freely here? Do not love your emperor?”

His words took on a more threatening tone as he twisted your words. He cupped your cheek, keeping you in his grip. 

“You misunderstand me,” you started, leaning into his touch. You turned your head and kissed his palm, feeling him relax. You reached for his other hand, placing it at your hip, a taboo touch, even between husband and wife. “To love freely means to give myself to you. You have taken. I have never given. To have a woman give herself to you is a magic no mortal man could withstand.”

“Enchantress,” he accused, though weakly. 

“No, my love. Empress.” 

You softly kissed his fingertips. Fingers that had never seen a hard day's work. Or blood on a battlefield. Or the blissful task of pleasing a woman. He, like most men, only sought their own. And as a dutiful wife, you provided. But the hunger, that stayed with you. And it burned as hot as the depths of Hades. 

“You speak of sorcery. That’s punishable by death,” he rasped. 

“Are you so afraid that you do not wish to seek what I speak of?”

Geta’s jaw once again clenched, the muscles in his neck straining. He did not like to be patronized. 

“You dare make me out to be a fool?”

“I’m offering you the chance to experience what only few men know. The body is not sorcery, Augustus.”

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for…something. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he jerked his hand away and stepped back. Air filled the once tight space between you both. 

“You infuriate me!” He exclaimed, hands making a mess of his fiery curls. 

“That is not my intention.”

He stepped to you again, breathing hard and heavy. “It would be wise for you to stop speaking out of turn, wife.” 

You did as he commanded, knowing you had stoked the flames too much. 

“Tonight…you are to come to my chambers. I will deal with you accordingly,” he ordered, chest rising and falling with his breaths. His eyes looked upon you, studying your form, almost seeing through your garments.

“Yes, Augustus.” 

“And wife?”

A pause.

You met his gaze.

“I will not show mercy. If the jungle cat wishes to be freed, she must be broken. Understand?”

You nodded. 

He left without another word. 

Part Two

[dira333]

Mom Friend - Kenma - part 3

Hinata’s dating someone.

He tells you first - at least that’s what he claims when he knocks on your door that Sunday, asking to be let in.

Kenma had been right, after all. Hinata doesn’t mind being mothered.

His girlfriend, one of the team's managers, doesn’t mind mothering him.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell him, hugging him tight. “Should have seen that coming, really. You’ve always been giggling during the breaks.”

He blushes adorably. “We’re going out as a group this Sunday. Are you coming?”

“Sure,” you agree easily. It’s different now. Easier.

-

The night is still warm, though you can smell the crispness of autumn. You bring a warmer jacket, unsurprised that you get to lend it out only five minutes after sitting down.

You sit in the corner, with an empty chair to your left. You don’t think much about it until a shadow falls over your table.

Kenma is quiet as he slides out the chair, waves at everyone and sits down.

You don’t make a fuss either and turn back to the conversation on your right, trying your best to forget about him.

It’d be a lie to say you manage. His knee hits yours as he tries to find a comfortable position and though neither of you says anything, your eyes meet for the briefest moment.

Kiyoomi changes seats right after ordering and you know it’s just so he can talk to your friend sitting across from you, but if you don’t want to butt into their conversation every five seconds you have no choice but to talk to Kenma.

“How’s work?” You ask, twirling your glass between your fingers.

“Good. Yours?”

“Good.”

Silence settles over you. Kiyoomi says something about a movie he wanted to watch and you add that you���ve seen it. The conversation moves onto your opinion about it before turning to something entirely else and your focus drifts again.

Kenma’s staring at the tablecloth. 

It’s a little weird that he’s not playing on his phone.

“Is your battery dead?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“Oh, okay.”

You wish you could just pull your own phone out and play around with it, but you’ve always thought that a little bit rude, not to mention that the only book you’ve got downloaded is pretty boring.

“There’s a movie-” Kenma starts but cuts himself off when the server arrives with the first few plates of food.

It’s easy not to talk as long as you’re eating. Just chew slowly, stare at the plate or smile at someone at the end of the table, ask them how they’re enjoying their meal.

Soon, though, the plates are cleared again. Dessert is ordered, but that takes some time.

Your eyes trail over the flowers decorating the patio. The little path separating the tables. The edge of your table. Kenma’s hands, pressed flat onto the tablecloth.

“You were saying?” You ask, turning toward him. “About a movie?”

Relief washes over his face.

“It’s similar to the one we watched. Back in, uh, May, was it?”

“April,” you correct him.

“Right.” He clears his throat awkwardly, folds his hands, and separates them again. He’s nervous. “It’s not about the same game, but it’s very similar. You liked that last one, yeah?”

“It was okay,” you agree quietly, thinking back. “The ending was good.”

Kenma nods. His pupils are wide as he looks at you.

You can’t help thinking back to that night in April, how you thought about the size of his pupils then. Did they tell the truth then? Or is it just nonsense you read somewhere?

“I was thinking about going to watch it,” he mutters. “I wanted to ask around… maybe you want to come?”

Time seems to stand still for a moment. 

You want to turn, to check on the others, see if they’re laughing, if they’re in on a joke you don’t get, if they’re even here with you right now, or if you’re dreaming, but you can’t move.

“Sure,” you say because you don’t know what else to say. “If I’m free.”

This time, Kenma doesn’t look relieved. Maybe he wanted you to decline? You don’t care enough. Though that is a lie and you know it.

You push yourself up from the table with an apologetic smile.

“I need the bathroom real quick,” you tell him, turn to your friend but she’s still deep in conversation with Kiyoomi. “You know what I ordered if it arrives before I’m back.”

The toilet seat is cold, but you stay there longer than necessary.

It feels like a Deja Vu or your very own version of Groundhog Day. 

“He does not love you,” you tell yourself like a mantra until you can feel it settle in your bones.

Only then do you feel ready to go back.

- - -

The air is crisp, your cheeks sting from the wind. If air had a taste, you think it would taste like fresh soda, bubbling on your tongue. 

You’re still unsure if this is a good idea, even as you walk up to the cinema, the same one you went to last time.

You dressed comfortably and not to impress. As far as you know only a few people confirmed. Kenma, of course. Kuroo, too. Hinata and his girlfriend. And you. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket as you reach the front door, but you don’t want to look at it yet.

You’re early, it seems. Or maybe everyone canceled, just like last time.

You wait another minute before you pull out your phone. 

Kuroo has to work longer. Hinata’s caught a stomach bug.

You wait for the next text, for Kenma to decline as well.

“Hey.”

-

This time it’s you, head buried in your hoody, eyes on your phone. 

Kenma’s dressed well. He must have had a work meeting earlier, though you remember he often dresses in sweats for those as well.

But he did wear fancy pants to the hangout too, so it doesn’t have to mean anything.

“Everyone canceled,” you tell him, raising your phone like it means something.

He nods and moves as if stretching out his hand before pushing it into the pocket of his blazer.

“I’m still going to watch the movie,” he points out, looking up at the sign above the door. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You think about it for a second. Think about the last time you went in there with him. Nothing good came from it.

But you’re not scared of him. Nothing he can say will hurt more than what he said last time. And you survived that, right?

-

The movie isn’t bad. 

You know even less of this game, but it doesn’t seem to matter. They’ve built up the story well. It almost makes you forget that Kenma paid for the Popcorn sitting between the two of you, the giant basket he asked to share.

“I want the limited edition bucket,” he had explained, his eyes darting around. “But I don’t want to eat the whole thing by myself.”

You offered to pay for the drinks but he’d declined, quietly but firmly.

And now you’re sitting here and it feels like a date when it clearly isn’t.

-

“Do you wanna eat something?” Kenma asks once you leave the cinema, dust your clothes off and get rid of the last remnants of popcorn and stray skittles. 

You hesitate for a second.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

Kenma’s face twists.

“I’m not-”

“Okay,” you nod to yourself. “So why are you being so nice to me?”

He hesitates.

“Can we talk?” He scuffs his shoes on the linoleum floor. “Somewhere more private?”

You look at him for a while before you nod.

“Same as last time?”

He nods and you follow him out of the Cinema and down the street. 

The wind is biting and you pull your jacket tighter around you. 

A couple walks down the street, facing you. The girl shivers and the guy pulls her close. Kenma turns his head to look at you and you swallow around a lump in your throat. 

As they pass, Kenma steps out of their way, careful not to bump into you. 

It feels like a sign. You wish it didn’t.

-

The warmth of the restaurant has you sniffling. Kenma finds a booth at the back and promises to order while you hit up the bathroom.

Your eyes are watery and your nose is red. You look like you’ve cried.

No amount of cold water is going to save that so you leave it as is, blow your nose one last time, and go back. Your stomach is tight, your hands cold.

Kenma’s looking at you as you walk over. His phone is not on the table. 

Whatever he has to say must be important to him.

-

“Do you still have a crush on me?”

His voice is even, like he’s reading from the menu and it takes you a second to register the meaning of the words.

Your mouth opens, but you have no answer.

This time though, you don’t look away. You hold his gaze, find anxiety darkening the gold in his eyes.

Eventually, you find your voice.

“Why do you ask?”

“I-” He hesitates. “I’ve been thinking about it. A lot.”

“Okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Kenma mutters and there’s a weight to his words and to his gaze. 

“Okay.”

He says nothing more for a while and you swallow around the questions in your throat. You don’t want to ask them. 

The food arrives and he stares down at it as if he forgot how to eat.

“It’s not going to be like it was before,” you eventually add when he makes no move to pick up his chopsticks.

“I know.”

“And yet you apologized.”

“It’s not just what I said,” he tells the table instead of you. “It’s how I said it.”

“It hurt a lot.”

“I can only imagine.”

You sniffle. It’s so silly that it makes you tear up again, the memory of it. But you can’t help it. 

“It would have been okay, you know.” You tell him quietly. “If you just… told me that you weren’t interested. Why did you have to try and set me up with someone else?”

Kenma picks his chopsticks up and puts them down again.

“I wanted to make you happy.”

A dry laugh works its way out of your throat.

“That’s not how you do that?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I gathered that. I’m… I’ve never…” He stops. “I’ve never felt that way before.”

Something in the way he says it irks you.

“What way?”

A nervous blush works its way up his neck.

“Protective,” he mutters. “Like… I needed to make sure… That you’re happy. And you wouldn’t have been happy… with me.”

Realization sinks in heavy and you gasp for air.

“Do you have a crush on me?”

“Kuroo thought you might be into Shouyou,” Kenma tries to avoid your question. He’s staring out the window too. “Because you were always mothering him.”

“That’s not the que-”

“You’re like Kuroo, in that way,” Kenma adds on, as if he’s not hearing you. “So I thought maybe you’d be happy with him, too. You could take care of each other. God knows Kuroo works too much. You do too. Always care too much about your coworker's needs. Or what your friends want. You bring extra water bottles and extra painkillers and a snack in case someone gets hungry and you remind them of their appointments-”

“Kenma.”

He sinks into himself. Kenma’s not tall, at least not compared to his friends. He’s not sturdy or broad-shouldered or anything. He’s just Kenma.

“I really messed up, didn’t I?” Kenma asks, his eyes finding yours. 

“Yeah, you did.”

Quiet settles over you. But it’s not stifling or uncomfortable.

Instead, it’s the soft quiet of knowing the truth.

You straighten and pick up Kenma’s chopsticks, press them into his hands.

“Eat,” you tell him. “We can’t figure things out on an empty stomach.”

“Figure things out…” He repeats, almost phrases it like a question. Almost.

“Yeah,” you try a smile. “If I’ve learned anything these past few months is that you can’t get anything done without good communication. And I think we’re really mastering that today.”

His lips break into a shy smile and he starts to eat.

You don’t know what’s going to happen after this.

All you know is that you’re breathing a little easier.

Everything else you can worry about later.

- OPEN END -

Join my Taglist: @notsochillnerd @fuzztacular @callingmyself

@kaykaystrings @alienaiver @alexxavicry @tsxkishimx @stellar-haikyuu

Mom Friend - Kenma pt one two three

[11queensupreme11]

What would it be like if the Gods, adults not children, know all this about Percy being from another universe and everything he's going to have to go through and somehow they end up meeting a 12-year-old Percy? I'm talking about a Percy before the field trip to the museum with Mrs. Dotts, which is to say when he didn't know anything about the Gods.

this whole thing just reminds me of this final fantasy 7 ao3 fanfic where everyone got sent back to the past AND remembered what happened... EXCEPT CLOUD and they were all frantically planning on a way to train this poor kid on how to save the world in case sephiroth goes insane again while simultaneously not telling him cuz they didn't want him to remember all his trauma 😭😭😭

(also if anyone knows which fic this, PLEASE SEND ME THE LINK CUZ I FORGOT THE TITLE AND AUTHOR AND I WANNA READ IT AGAIN!!!!)

anyway, if they got isekai-ed to percy's universe in the past AND THEY KNOW what's gonna happen to her, they are absolutely gonna scramble for a way to get back to their universe with percy in order to prevent The Plot from happening 😭😭😭😭

like "hell fucking no my baby is NOT going through any of that!!!!" 😭😭😭😭

i can't even blame them cuz imagine finding this tiny lil 12 year old girl, the de-aged version of someone you love so very much, and KNOWING she's about to go through some traumatizing shit soon and you have the chance to save her from that? they're gonna do whatever it takes to save her from that awful fate!!

poseidon is straight up kidnapping her, getting a child leash, and tethering her to him while he frantically tries to find a way to access the bifrost and send them back home, meanwhile he's got a feral 12 year old trying to gnaw through the leash 💀

hades definitely feels bad for kidnapping her from her poor mother, BUT IT'S FOR PERCY'S OWN GOOD, HE SWEARS!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 he's absolutely not gonna go to any of the gods for help because he's seen their buffoonery and wants no part of it, so it's up to him to find a way back home!!

beelzebub's not gonna bother with a child leash, after he kidnaps her he's whipping out the cuffs again cuz those have a shorter chain AND she can't gnaw them off 💀 probably gives up on the handcuffs tho when she somehow manages to break them and ends up just lugging her around like this:

apollo's gonna be such a nervous wreck. he does NOT want to kidnap her, he would prefer it if she just comes with him willingly but it comes off SO sus like "hi there little girl! do you want some candy? i'm trying to save ur life pls trust me" and percy may be 12 but she's not STUPID, so she goes "stranger danger" and runs away and now he has no choice but to kidnap her while he tries to find a way back 😭

loki's more subtle at first. he'll kill of mrs. dodds, chiron, and grover and shapeshift to become percy's new math teacher to replace dodds. he knows he still has some time before The Plot hits, so he's not TOO panicked rn and when he's not pretending to be a math teacher, he spends his time snooping around asgard to try and figure out how their bifrost works to send them both home. killing those three ^ eliminates the whole field trip issue, but you know, Fates 💀 ofc they find a way to make The Plot keep going so yeah, loki snaps and kidnaps her to keep her safe

i promise you, ten minutes into anubis' arrival in the pjo verse, the news article "freakishly tall furry man kidnaps child from yancy academy -- local furry community claims no ties to the kidnapper" is gonna spread around like wildfire 💀 he is absolutely gonna kidnap her is probably gonna spend most of the time freaking the fuck out instead of actually trying to find a way back home

cú chulainn's got it a little harder. yes he can easily kidnap her, but he's not a god. he's been blessed with his adoptive father's abilities, but he can't like... teleport, be in multiple places at once, easily search the universe in case percy runs away, etc. so he tries to be more discreet about it like loki by killing off mrs dodds and any monsters that come percy's way. he'll try to find a way to the bifrost too, but it'll be more difficult for obvious reasons. it's once The Plot hits does he finally say fuck it and just joins her to keep her close while trying to find a way to access the norse pantheon

[soapieanxiety]

Historical Iceland Ramble: Part 1 - Early Childhood

We’re actually pretty lucky to get a good look at Icelands very early childhood. Not only do we see him immediately after he was “born” but we also see more of his childhood from before Norway showed up in his life.

Interesting things I immediately notice:

- While Norway physically wasn’t there in his life his connection to Iceland is still important even before the two met

- Iceland doesn’t know that he’s a representation but he does know that he’s not human

- Iceland's loneliness is something he’s dealt with literally since he was born. He’s literally Dr. Doofenshmirtz levels of loneliness. I am not joking he’s extremely lonely.

- His hot and cold side is immediately established in these manga panels. Iceland is someone with a lot of internal fire however externally he appears to be the opposite. Sometimes people only portray one side of his personality and ignore the other, but if you truly want to understand Iceland you have to understand that there are two sides to him. They may seem contradictory but in reality both sides merge together and create Iceland. It cannot be ignored

These panels right here tell us directly that there is more to Iceland than what meets the eye. We’ve been told this in character notes, but in the actual content of Hetalia, we are shown it here. We’re shown it constantly, but this is the most in-your-face example I’ve seen. Iceland is directly getting upset at people judging him just based off first impressions. This shows us that not portraying him with these two sides is doing his character a disservice.

In some stories, I see that people make it that Norway found Iceland pretty quickly after his “birth." However I believe that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m gonna get more into timeline in the next paragraph, but the panel with Iceland contemplating if he has a brother takes place at a minimum 130 years after his “birth." Want proof? These are the next two panels that happen immediately after

It’s believed that civilization on Iceland started at around 870 AD, and it looks like that’s the date Hima went with. It’s the date I’m going to go with as well. Christianity came to Iceland at around the year 999 or 1000 AD, meaning Iceland met the God (/j but y’know what I mean) before he met his brother, the other Nordics, or Mr. Puffin. Now I can see someone arguing that maybe he’s met Mr. Puffin already; however, I believe that if he had, Mr. Puffin would be somewhere in these panels. He’s always with Iceland, and if he’s not, it’s a logical assumption to make that he just hasn’t met the bird yet.

Iceland makes a new friend! Despite the mental breakdown, I do believe meeting Mr. Puffin was an all-around positive in Iceland's life. We see them together constantly after-this, and Iceland finally gets his much needed social interaction. Even if it’s from a bird. He’s still suffering from extreme loneliness, which will affect him for the rest of his life. But it’s a good thing he has Mr. Puffin now, who does teach him a bit about the outside world.

I’d also like to note that Iceland, who knows he has a brother, believes that he’s the only island to exist and that the rest of the world is just ocean. That’s how much he’s suffering from loneliness. I can’t really pinpoint a year these panels take place but I’m fairly confident they take place after 1000, which, as stated earlier, is over 100 years after Iceland was “born.”

These are the last manga panels I’d like to go over and the ones I find the most interesting, in my opinion.

We see more of Iceland and Mr. Puffins time together in Iceland's early childhood. Mr. Puffin tells Iceland about the outside world, which Iceland doesn’t believe. I think this is probably just the loneliness getting to him. What I find really interesting in this panel is that it confirms that Norway knows Iceland exists. Now I love Norway, I’m a firm believer that he’s doing his best as a brother. But this is probably his biggest brother fumble, in my opinion. As an older sibling myself, I can understand being busy with your own life. Norway is obviously busy in this panel, but at this point, Iceland has existed for over 100 years now, and he still hasn’t gone to see him. Being busy for that long just isn’t an excuse. Now I guess I can see a point that maybe this was the first time he realized he had a little brother. However, I believe that this isn’t the first time. Iceland’s “birth” scene has a blacked-out silhouette of Norway and his voice. Now we don’t know what Norway said, but this is implying to me that Norway knows Iceland exists.

Bottom line: Iceland's loneliness in his early childhood was avoidable. Norway could’ve shown up way earlier, but he didn’t. I’m not going to bash him that much for it, but this heavily affects Iceland. I can understand that Norway was most likely a teenager at this time who was focused on being a Viking and fighting other people. However, the negative impacts of this weigh heavy, and Norway’s nosy and overbearing behavior is probably him trying to compensate for not being there for Iceland during this time in his life.

Anyways, thank you for reading Part 1 of this historical Iceland analysis. Part 2 will cover a broader history. I feel like the reason this part was so long is simply because we have so much content of Iceland’s early life. If Part 3 is needed (honestly it might), I’ll let y’all know before Part 2 is published. Expect Part 2 to be published sometime around Thanksgiving, whether that’s before or after. Again, thank you for reading this. My notes app literally started glitching because of how long this was.

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Part 12

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Anxiety, Bad parents and siblings, Talking about abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 11 - Part 13

Series Masterlist

It had been just over a week since your wedding. You and Jake have improved your communication. He's also managed to really set himself up in the home theater where he'd spent that first night. Apparently one thing your parents got right was the massive pair of recliners specifically for that room. Jake swears they're more comfortable than most of the beds he's slept on over the years. It makes you feel better about taking the master bedroom for yourself. Clay had visited again bringing a few duffel bags of Jake's things, including his computer. The massive screen for the theater worked really well for his setup.

While you were cooking, Clay had made sure to update Jake on the status of his family. Things were working pretty well, but there were going to be a lot of paper trails to hide so that they couldn't be followed. Or at least, not followed easily. Aisha and Cougar had both caught a couple of people following his family around that were confirmed to be employed by his parents. Hopefully now that Jake had his computer he could get some better intel on the parents' finances and connections.

But you weren't privy to that update. Jake and Clay agreed it was safer to keep you in the dark about the details. Though Jake didn't doubt your sincerity, there were still too many unknowns about you.

You really didn't mind that they got quiet whenever you were near. Your mind was already at maximum anxiety with Travis, your brother, still being in the Intensive Care Unit. Your parents had been acting unusually as the week progressed and Travis didn't get better. According to the police report he'd been seen drinking heavily with friends before trying to drive home. Usually one of his friends would be the designated driver and keep everyone's keys but, somehow, Travis had gotten his keys.

And now your parents seemed to be readjusting their life plans, and yours as well. The one time you were allowed to visit the hospital you'd overheard your parents murmuring about "he can't be seen like this," "he'll be seen as weak," and other similar thoughts. It made you worried you and Jake would be even more under their scrutiny, set to even higher standards. Your breath hitched as you realized they may demand a grandchild to help change the public perception of the family to one of hope or something like that.

You and Jake were getting ready for your first public event as a couple. You're helping Jake pick out the right suit while doing your best to answer his questions about what to expect, what is appropriate conversation, how much both of you needed to talk to others before you could leave. You know you're missing things. Jake does, too. But neither of you can think of the questions to ask so you establish a silent signal for help. Jake squeezes your hand three times and you either step in or whisper some advice in his ear. It's not a great system, but it's all you can do for now.

Jake hates how he looks in all of this but he knows it's not about him or his comfort. At least he doesn't have to wear the torture device you call a dress. The thing looks impossibly tight on you. He's worried about your ability to breathe. And the stiletto heels have you warning him you'll be on his arm all night to help you keep your balance. Jake actually takes comfort in that because he really doesn't want to be left alone at this event. Probably any event, but this first one especially.

As the car pulls up Jake takes a deep breath and you attempt the same.

"We can do this, right?" He says quietly.

"I believe we can," you nod. You gently squeeze his hand in reassurance like you did that first morning with the parents.

He nods, "let's do this."

As soon as he's able Jake is out of the car and opening your door for you. The last time he did so you were scared of each other. Now you make sure to give him a small smile of thanks as he takes your hand. The elevator ride to the party is as quiet as the one you took together your wedding night, but less oppressively so. It isn't until the elevator doors open that you both put on your fake smiles. Both of you taking small comfort in the fact that neither of you is suffering alone.

After the first couple hours Jake is ready to punch someone, anyone, just so he can be forced to leave since he's not allowed out yet. He's incredibly grateful you insisted on eating a little something beforehand. The food here is barely edible and dissolves faster than cotton candy. He hates the wine? Champagne? Whatever the hell it is, he hates the taste of it but, in following your lead, he knows he has to at least sip often enough to warrant a replacement glass every 30 minutes or so. Jake was grateful to have your weight on his arm to help keep him grounded.

Especially when Charles Blackwood, a "friend" of his from high school, showed up. Charles had been nothing but a leech throughout all of high school but Jake was desperate for some kind of friendship.

"Jacob! Where have you been?" Charles holds out his hand and Jake grips it firmly.

"I've been okay, Charles. You?"

"Holy crap, you're married now? Is that why you finally came out of hiding?"

"Sort of," he admits.

He goes to introduce you but Charles stops him. "I know this lovely lady quite well," he admits. You avert your eyes. "We were engaged for some time."

"You were?"

"Didn't she tell you?" Charles smirks. "Would've been married for two years now if her parents hadn't stepped in."

"For once I'm glad they did," you interject. "You're a conman who shouldn't be here."

Charles gives a small laugh, "well look who finally grew up. Too bad you didn't pick up on what was going on before I got you into bed." Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "How are those dolphin projects going?"

"Sharks," Jake snipes. "Her focus was on sharks."

"Ooo, nerd standing up for nerd. How cute."

"You need to leave us alone," Jake fumes. "She is my wife and I won't let you insult her."

Charles scoffs, "since when can you fight?"

"Since boot camp."

That gives Charles pause. He searches Jake's face for tells that he's lying but finds none.

"Yeah, alright," Charles concedes. "Just don't ruin this party for me. Lots of other potential targets."

As soon as he was out of hearing range you let out a breath. "I'm so sorry," your voice quavers. "I should have...I should have told you."

"Told me what? That your ex-fiance is an asshole? That's not something you need to divulge."

"No...that...that I'm not..."

Jake leans in so that you're the only one who hears him. "You're more than just your virginity status. I'm sorry your first time was with him, he doesn't seem the type to make your pleasure a priority, but I'm not upset that you've had sex before."

You take as deep a breath as you can to steady yourself. "Thank you for that."

"So, can we leave the party yet?"

You check Jake's watch, trying not to be obvious about it. "We've got at least another half hour."

"When we do get out of here, would you be up for going out for some real food?"

You chuckle, "maybe delivery? Or take out? I'm not going to be able to eat much in this dress."

"Fair. And thank you for helping me get through all of this."

"Thank you for listening to my advice," you counter.

"Always," Jake affirms.

Part 11 - Part 13

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @embarrasingmf;

@irishhappiness; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82;

@ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[homestuckreplay]

Today Is A Gift, That’s Why They Call It The Present: Who Is Jade Harley?

Character Deep Dive 4 – 11/26/2009

Jade Harley, the silliest and most unknowable of Homestuck characters. Jade’s first pesterlog appearance was way back on page 110, and her existence and involvement in forces beyond our real world comprehension has been teased ever since – but it took hundreds of pages and months of real time waiting for Jade to finally become a point of view character. Just like with Rose and Dave, what we learn from Jade’s pesterlogs isn’t a complete picture of who she is. Jade is excitable, bubbly and supportive in her conversations, aware that she’s seen as mysterious and working to cultivate that. As a point of view character it’s harder for Jade to maintain her own mystery, and we see a fuller spectrum of her emotions, as well as a picture of her day to day life. In many ways Jade’s life is easier than her friends’, but she has a few of her own challenges.

Organized by the list of Jade’s interests given on page 789, here’s a discussion of what we learn about Jade during the early part of act 3. It's about 5k words below the cut and only covers up to page 916 of Homestuck.

1 - You are an avid follower of CARTOON SHOWS OF CONSIDERABLE NOSTALGIC APPEAL.

Jade doesn’t spend a lot of time on this interest, but she surrounds herself in it by falling into her plushy pile before she uses her computer. She has posters on her walls for Squiddles and Green Slime Ghost, both of which were invented internally to Homestuck, unlike John whose bedroom posters are all for real world media. Jade also has a large number of Squiddle ‘Tangle Buddies’, and a squiddle and (blue) slime ghost are symbol options for her shirt.

Owning so much merchandise, Jade clearly isn’t embarrassed by this interest. As Rose’s shirt is a doctored Squiddle, Rose may have previously shared this interest, but moved on from it – Jade describes these shows as ‘nostalgic’ on both page 789 and 790, so she’s trying to hold onto these articles of her youth. They also give the sense of an eclectic taste; as they’re unfamiliar to the reader and no wider fandom is established for them, they feel like cartoons found only on budget TV channels or dusty corners of the internet. MS Paint Adventures being the only modern media we see her consume only enhances this.

Jade’s nostalgic media extends beyond board games, as her fetch modus options are common childhood board games. As well as retaining these childlike interests and playfulness, Jade is described by the narrative as ‘silly’ – a silly girl with silly antics and a silly name (p.760), a silly flute refrain (p.769), an awfully silly idea (p.774), and a silly girl with silly fortune telling knickknacks (p.802). As well as setting up a contrast between Dave (regularly described as ‘cool’, which by some logic is an antonym of ‘silly’), this feels like it diminishes her importance, casting her actions as entertaining but ultimately meaningless. Between pages 838 and 860, the story flips back and forth between the peril of Rose’s imminent meteors, and Jade whose only goal is to feed her pet.

There’s a surface impression that life is easy for Jade. She has a large, comfortable house, a sylladex she’s confident with, a guardian who she doesn’t hate and isn’t outright cruel, toys, space, safety from danger, mastery over all her own hobbies. From day one, John had to struggle with sylladex mechanics and retrieving his own arms, but Jade is unaffected even by the inconvenience of stairs, and is later shown as having more knowledge than the player. It almost feels like she’s spoiled by the narrator with this easier existence, which isn’t necessarily good for her, just like being spoiled by a parent might not be good for a kid. Ultimately, if there’s no sense that Jade needs to learn or overcome anything, she becomes less compelling – so I’m invested in noticing where she has room for growth.

2 - You have a profound zeal for marvelous and fantastical FAUNA OF AN ANTHROPOMORPHOLOGICAL PERSUASION.

In addition to her cartoon show posters, Jade has two pieces of furry art on her walls, plus a picture of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff as furries. This of course was a gift from Dave, the friend Jade sometimes discusses her furry tendencies with. These plus her FurAffinity account show an enjoyment of the furry aesthetic, but her relationship with being a furry is complicated, and something she adopts far less uncritically than her other interests.

Jade insists that she does not have a fursuit as they are ‘raggedy synthetic tufty piece[s] of crap’ and that dressing up like an animal ‘seems ridiculous’ (p.802). We don’t learn whether Jade has made a fursona or makes furry art of her own (vampireprincess007, the FurAffinity account Jade is looking at on page 834, doesn’t seem like a username she’d pick), but we get a sense of the ways Jade distances herself from the furry community. She thinks of combining the ‘finest qualities’ of humans and animals, wishing for ears and a ‘proud snout’ to ‘assist… in the hunt’. She also seeks a ‘more visceral sapience’ that is ‘untouched by the concerns and burdens of the upright’ (p.797). When she imagines being an animal, she wants to ‘run wild’ or ‘purr and frolic’ (p.802).

Jade collects Manthro Chaps, dolls with assortments of human and animal body parts who may have hands and flippers, snouts and mustaches. They have human names and attend events such as balls, need vaccinations, and take care of bodily needs in animalistic ways. Much like Jade’s desire for animal senses and experiences, Jade’s Manthro Chaps are a true physical merging of the human and animal. Jade does not want to wear the trappings of an animal if she can’t also have that biological change, and if she can’t develop that instinctive behavior of eating bugs, hunting, and losing the language and inhibitions of human existence.

Jade has a pet named Becquerel who is also her ‘best friend’ (p.791), and while we don’t know his species, it’s possible that spending so much time with him has fed into the desire to live like him. He also may not be a regular animal – both Dave and the narrator refer to him as a ‘devilbeast’ (p.382, 800) and he eats his steak not just well cooked, but irradiated. This could also be why her rifle’s ‘cross-hairs would never settle on an innocent creature’ (p.790). Jade is likely an animal lover in general, as she has this deep and considered understanding of how it must feel to be a different creature, and is very in touch with the natural world.

3 - You have an uncanny knack for NUCLEAR PHYSICS, and not infrequently can be found dabbling in RATHER ADVANCED GADGETRY.

Jade’s forays into gadgetry are all over her room, and she’s downplaying her own skill with ‘rather’. So far we know about Jade’s Wardrobifier, Atomic/Electic Bass with portable amp, Sonar boxes transmitting her music into the atrium, Cookalizer, Refrigerator, and Lunchtop. Her house also has several Transportalizers, although their designer is unknown. Jade’s orb and spire bed, the atomic cabinet beneath her room, the strange flat window device whose design she borrowed from her grandfather, and a host of other objects on her gadgets table are unknowns but it’s clear that just like Rose with her knitting, Jade is prolific, dedicated and puts a lot of time into her hobby.

Jade doesn’t feel constrained in the design of her technology. Sometimes she uses squares and cubes like those in the Skaianet labs, sometimes she’ll play on common designs by giving a refrigerator a rotary interface or adding extra heat settings to a cookalizer, and sometimes she’ll invent something with no relation to existing tech. Jade hits all the design notes – smooth and sleek vs greebled, futuristic vs retro vs encased in a lunchbox – so she’s willing to try different things.

We learn that for Jade, ‘experimentation is not a particularly exact science, and [she] lean[s] heavily on SHARP INTUITION for consistently and eerily optimal results’ (p.790), so she’s basically living the scientist’s dream of fucking around without having to find out. It’s a lot easier to take risks and experiment with an intuition that guarantees success. To what extent does Jade understand the theoretical principles of nuclear physics? When she can’t get something to work, like right now with the window device, what’s her troubleshooting process like? Is she used to working through this emotionally? Jade did claim to have worked on a present for John ‘for years!!!!’ (p.442) so I think that even if Jade has an intuitive understanding of design, she still has to do the work to put these gadgets together, which can be time consuming and technically difficult.

Jade’s interest in gadgetry is tied to an interest in music. Like her friends she is highly proficient in an instrument, but Jade’s is ‘heavily customized to accommodate a high level of musical virtuosity’ (p.821) – its ‘advanced setting’ has two sets of strings and three keyboards, which Jade can apparently handle from a musical perspective. I think this is something she’s worked at, because when she attempts to play the flute, the narration comments, ‘Maybe you should try playing an instrument you actually know how to play instead’ (p.770). If Jade’s music was entirely based on her intuition, picking up the flute would be easy. She’s also limited by her own physical form; the advanced bass cannot be played ‘in person’ (p.821), so only having two arms and five foot something of height feels like a bigger limitation in this hobby than her brain.

Despite being generally competent with technology, Jade is surprised by its misuse, shocked and angry when carcinoGeneticist trolls her despite her blocking them and logging out. Jade is not a gamer, knowing Sburb by reputation but not by name, and saying that John and Dave are ‘way more into all that stuff than i am!!!!’ (p.442), and therefore she’s not immersed in the gamer culture that leads to cruel online behavior. It’s nice to think that Jade, despite being an internet user, has escaped the cynicism and hatred that is common online and has found positive spaces for herself.

Jade is a proficient sylladex user, easily mastering technologies she didn’t make too. While John struggles with remembering how many cards he has free, Rose doesn’t realize she can pull the leave instead of the root, and Dave has to use Y as a consonant to get the hash map to work, Jade is educating the player on correct sylladex management and can perfectly guess the memory modus on the first try. But this has limitations, too. Jade captchalogues a pumpkin on page 778 and by page 785 it’s vanished, so Jade’s sylladex isn’t a safe storage place. In fact, her house is a hotspot for other people’s strange technology as well as her own, which I’ll discuss more later. Additionally, there are some problems that Jade can’t solve with technology. Any issues with her grandfather, for example, or with her remote location. Jade sends a parcel several months before its delivery date (p.442) and receives mail via hot air balloon (p.822) but for some reason has never invented a disappearifier that could instantly take her to a friend’s house. Despite her many talents, she remains stuck at home.

4 - You enjoy sporadic fits of NARCOLEPSY;

Jade is sleeping when we first meet her, so this is technically the first interest we see her engaging in. And the word ‘enjoy’ is crucial here. Most people do not enjoy their medical conditions, and regularly, uncontrollably dropping off to sleep can cause serious problems, but Jade treats this like many intentional nappers do, slumbering ‘peacefully’ such that it’s ‘a shame to wake her’ (p.760).

Jade doesn’t know the details of her condition. When she wakes, it’s sudden and ‘as usual, [she] ha[s] no recollection of having falling asleep’ (p.768) and in a conversation with Dave, he asks ‘do you even know if you are [asleep]’ (p.829). Jade is driven by impulse and intuition, and doesn’t question those impulses much. In a more extreme example, she doesn’t question her sudden falling asleep in inconvenient circumstances, but figures out how to work around it.

When John takes a rooftop nap between battles, Jade’s silhouette appears in his dreams (p.644) and when he wakes, she tells him ‘i really think you need to wake up first!… not literally, well ok maybe KINDA literally!!’ Jade’s connection to sleep goes beyond her narcolepsy, and she places importance on sleeping, waking, and possibly the balance between the two. Jade is defined by her faith in a higher power, so she probably trusts this same power with deciding when she should move between sleeping and waking. It’s also likely that Jade’s orb and spire bed has something to do with this interest.

It’s not possible for Jade to be woken with the player’s cursor (p.762) but it is possible to both put her to sleep and wake her up while she’s playing the flute (p.769) by pressing the Z key – which highlights how quickly she sleeps and wakes, because any other button has her bouncing right back up.

Sleep is crucial for health and relaxation; gardening and gadgetry both involve some manual labor, and Jade valuing sleep ties in with her enjoyment of nostalgic television, lying down in a pile of dolls, and carrying fresh fruits and vegetables. Despite her exterior silliness and forgetfulness, there’s a strong sense that Jade has internalized her grandfather’s lectures, and knows how to take care of herself and her pet – she cares about health and safety, and even though she programmed an ‘explosion’ setting on her cookalizer, she refuses to use it. Having such state of the art technology helps with taking care of herself, but it still takes work, and by cooking steak for Bec Jade is the only kid who’s helping with personal and household maintenance. So, Jade’s enjoyment of sleep stands in for a more general understanding of daily necessities.

5 - your love of GARDENING transcends the glass confines of your ATRIUM;

Long foreshadowed by her chumhandle, when we caught our first glimpse of Jade on page 665, she was already surrounded by her plants. Jade grows a variety of fruits, flowers and vegetables, and doesn’t have much concern for their typical growth conditions. Peas, for example, grow best in a cooler climate, while squash likes it hot and humid, but Jade has these next to each other. Jade’s vegetables are best suited for temperate climates while her citrus fruits prefer things more tropical. Some quirk of Jade’s atrium or gardening methods means she doesn’t have to worry about this.

Gardening is another hobby Jade has tied to her gadgetry. When Jade plays her bass, it transmits sonar into her garden atrium, causing the plants to grow rapidly. It’s possible that these speakers are amplifiers for Skaian technology, and turn Jade’s house into a beacon, and a target for appearifying pumpkins. Some of Jade’s plants are ordinary, but her fruits have faces and are able to bounce around on the table (p.812). This is uncommon for us, but to Jade these are just regular fruits. This could be another effect of the sonar, or more generally, of the environmental conditions on the island. We know that volcanic activity creates a geothermal power source on Jade’s island (p.801) and can guess that mystic activity surrounding the frog statue creates a similar Skaian power source. And that places her as the (0,0) coordinate that all Skaian technology gravitates towards, and is maybe even the ‘default location’ for technology such as appearifiers.

Jade has plants in her bedroom, but she also has a large, four-wing garden atrium dedicated to this passion (p.780). It’s another big difference between Jade and the other kids that Jade’s interests are allowed to spill outside of her room. Her grandfather does control the aesthetic of most of the house, but giving Jade the garden atrium leads to a slightly more balanced relationship between the two.

Gardening as a hobby is something that requires regular input, something where results can’t always be seen right away, something imprecise as it involves living things that will behave surprisingly, something very messy, and something historic, engaged in by humans for millennia. Much like sleep, it links to the idea of routine, as plants often need watering on a set schedule. Plants are a way of providing food; especially on a tiny island where packages take months to deliver, Jade’s gardening must play a big part in keeping her healthy and alive, so again this ties into Jade’s responsibility for herself. Jade won’t hunt animals so this is her way of being a provider.

Jade is also connected to the messier, more unpleasant sides of nature. The player temporarily names her ‘Farmstink’, she will happily ‘squeal like a piglet and fertilize some plants’ (p.775), she’s delighted by the Manthro Chaps with their slop troughs, and she cares for a pet, which is always messy business. Clearly Jade isn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty, and understands the messy realities of giving life.

6 - and you are at times prone to patterns of PRECOGNITIVE PROGNOSTICATION.

Seemingly affecting all aspects of her day to day existence, Jade has spent her whole life tapped into a source of esoteric knowledge. Broadly, this gives her the ability to know certain events in the future, intuitively understand various games and technology, and possibly to understand the fourth wall and her place within a story. This ‘interest’ in prognostication is really more of an uncontrollable habit, and subsumes all Jade’s other interests, as it alters the experience of them so much.

Jade dispenses knowledge to her friends through pesterlogs, with varying levels of specificity. Jade has clearly given Rose a lot of information on their upcoming Sburb session – the fact that John and Rose begin play first, that it will happen on April 13, 2009, and that the game has the potential to revive the dead – and Rose describes her predictions as ‘frighteningly accurate’ (p.838). So she’s very honest with Rose, but maybe less so with John, as she gives him a vague ‘maybe this is your destiny’ (p.293) and asks him if he’s received a package when she knows he hasn’t. So not only does Jade have knowledge her friends don’t, but she’s careful about when to share it and with who.

Currently a lot of Jade’s visions involve gifts, which is funny because they don’t only relate to the present. In a flashback, Jade asks Rose about a different package, but gives Rose a future tip instead of sending her something – sharing her gift (as in talent) in place of a gift (as in present). Jade uses colorful reminders on her fingers to remember her own predictions, which is another limitation on her powers – predicting the future is great but it’s important to remember what’s been predicted, at the time it will be relevant. If Jade lost these reminders somehow, she might struggle to make sense of her predictions.

Jade’s visions appear specific in their timing and detail – at the end of conversations, Jade tells other people when they have to go, and sometimes tells them the reason (p.652, 838) although it’s uncertain whether she makes these predictions in advance or in the moment. Jade doesn’t only know that her friends will play Sburb, she also knows that Rose will lose her internet connection and that John will battle a pair of ogres – minutiae that are only available to the reader. And her predictions can understand people’s interiority, they’re not just visions from an outside observer - ‘you will have your questions answered, but they will be the ones you havent thought to ask yet!’ (p.838). Ignoring in-universe time, Jade’s predictions get more specific as the narrative progresses, so there’s a sense that she always knows slightly more than the reader or player and is staying one step ahead (even though this can be best explained by the author crystallizing their plans as they continue writing).

However, Jade’s predictions feel largely passive, always phrased like an unconscious understanding. She is a conduit for information, but there’s no sense that she could ‘choose’ to know the answer to a specific question, especially as she doesn’t know how these powers work. So if Skaia wanted to hide something from Jade or was itself incapable of knowing something, that would place another limitation on her abilities. We may have already seen this with the window device that Jade can’t get to work, despite gadgetry usually coming so easily to her.

Jade previously had an oracle’s trunk, but is slowly turning it into a gadget chest, as its contents were ‘completely bogus’ (p.802) – a crystal ball, velvet pillow, tarot deck, magic 8 ball, magic cue ball, and copy of Problem Sooth, mostly standard equipment for somebody interested in the occult. Jade dismisses the magic 8 ball as she has tested it against her own knowledge, but she is still superstitious about breaking it, suggesting a more general belief in supernatural powers, even while she sees them as inferior to her own.

Jade presents herself as all knowing, but she’s not sure why things keep appearing and disappearing around her atrium, she’s not sure why she falls asleep and importantly, she imagines John as ‘undoubtedly gallivanting around his house in a state of barely restrained birthday mirth’ (p.827) – so Jade’s knowledge is sometimes incomplete, sometimes inaccurate. But Jade turning her fortune telling chest into a gadgets chest shows that she sees her predictions scientifically, as more akin to understanding radiation or the atom than to tarot readings or horoscopes, without acknowledging the uncertainties that are still present in hard science. In fact, the way Jade talks about occult paraphernalia and fursuits are fairly similar. She is, or wants, the ‘real deal’ of everything, and doesn’t have time for what she sees as cheap imitations.

I believe that Skaian power breaks down the barriers between technology and reality, allowing creations such as Jade’s lunchtop, but also allowing Jade to see the fourth wall between herself and the readers’ computers. When we first meet Jade, she’s holding a note directed to the player, slightly offended that she will be/has been named Farmstink Buttlass (fair enough). Jade addresses the player directly during the ill-advised sylladex escapade where she gives a non-seer a chance to play the memory modus. She’s the first kid to refer directly to the author of the in-universe MS Paint Adventures - ‘looks like he was just finishing up some sort of weird tangential intermission’ (p.831), the ‘he’ presumably being Andrew Hussie. And Jade gains a sudden awareness that 413 years in the future while flying over the Pacific, the Peregrine Mendicant is asking ‘Don’t I know you?’ (p.900). Part of Jade’s prognostication involves knowing about all these different forces that are surveilling and controlling her, and being able to talk back. Jade is prepared to assert her dominance, whether that’s about knowing her sylladex better than the player does or frying PM’s command station with lightning because she doesn’t like being mind controlled. In this way Jade is more than a passive recipient of knowledge, she’s willing to look at the source of that knowledge and hold her own. Right now Jade feels like the most likely character to mess with the narrative itself – if she decides she wants to change something that’s predestined, it’s easy to see her arguing with the author directly.

7 - But you quickly realize this is only one half of your room, and is therefore host to only half of your INTERESTS to choose from.

This line from the end of page 789 is mostly a lie – the following page mostly recaps Jade’s previous interests, only adding her strife specibus and relationship with her grandfather. It is curious how Jade’s interests overflow from the page the same way they overflow from her room, the same way Jade’s introduction isn’t confined to her room and her existence spills out of the narrative. It gives the sense that Jade can’t be constrained by any force we yet know about. That’s a fun feeling – a wild card character makes everything more exciting.

Jade is a ‘skilled markswoman’ (p.790), owning four old fashioned looking guns. Two of these are long rifles for her riflekind specibus, and two are smaller and more portable. One is a hunting rifle, although it’s uncertain what Jade is hunting, as Jade’s ‘cross-hairs would never settle on an innocent creature’. It’s possible that she’s likely to encounter dangerous creatures if she leaves the house, or thinks she might in the future. Target practice is also a physical activity like bass playing or gardening, and one that can’t be taught through prognosticative powers, so it’s possible that Jade has honed this skill to have hobbies that take actual work, practice, and failure.

Although Jade claims to be a ‘great admirer’ of her grandfather’s (p.790), her actual feelings seem more complicated. He’s the person who taught her to hunt and lectures her on leaving the house without a rifle, but they differ ethically, with Jade really disliking the big game trophies he displays around the house. She especially dislikes his Typheus trophy, which he won’t move from the transportalizer even for practicality’s sake. Jade reluctantly supports his valiant knight collection, cannot stand his decrepit mummies, and seems confused by the Daughters of Eclectica, uncertain of why her grandfather likes them so much. Jade also describes her grandpa as ‘a little strict’ (p.772), giving ‘stern lectures’ (p.790), and especially ‘intense’ (p.382, 790, 916).

Like the other kid-guardian relationships, I think there’s a lack of understanding between the generations. Grandpa Harley has only been seen in silhouette, but from his home decoration, his monopolizing the grand foyer, and his apparent job title of an explorer-naturalist-treasure hunter-archaeologist-scientist-adventurer-big game hunter-billionaire, he comes across as someone bragadocious who likes to be surrounded by his own success and is in love with his own mythos, someone who has high expectations for Jade to live up to his own standards, and is controlling but in a hands off way. Needing to display so many of his achievements feels like he’s putting on the same act of coolness as Dave’s bro, but Grandpa cares about what was cool in 1909, not 2009. Jade’s grandpa has traveled a lot and been shaped by many years of adventuring, while Jade has likely never left the island or met many other people, so there’s a gulf in their experiences that’s hard to bridge. Jade can’t know what it’s like to live under the weight of her own history and celebrity, but her grandfather similarly can’t understand growing up in that shadow and in the expectations of eclipsing it.

If Jade is full on, excitable, a prodigy and a polymath, it’s clear who she gets it from. And Jade is maybe 50% between buying into the public image of her grandpa that he’s surely put across in media coverage, and 50% understanding the reality of him as a human being, the way somebody famous and star-studded can also be difficult, inconvenient, and make life harder when interacting on a day to day basis.

Final Thoughts

With a life much harder to relate to than John’s, Rose’s or Dave’s, I’m fascinated by what it’s like in Jade’s mind – to hold knowledge about the past, present and future all at once, to be certain what tomorrow will bring, and to communicate with an entity centuries in the future is a radically different experience to my own, and must really affect how Jade engages with the world. The main characters have gotten progressively weirder as we’ve been introduced to them in turn, but Jade is the only one to feel truly fantastical, guided by her powers as she is.

I can’t think of another piece of media that introduces characters so starkly, with no artifice, just a cleanly presented list of their interests. I love this framework; it paints an immediate picture of where these kids are in their lives as of April 13, 2009, leaving space for these interests to take on greater or lesser roles as the narrative progresses, but still shaping their perspectives and giving them texture from the first moment.

It’s also really interesting seeing the narrative work in introductions for these characters while the main story is still happening, allowing the new character space to explore without grinding the story to a halt. With around 75 consecutive pages, Jade’s introduction is much more leisurely than Rose or Dave’s, as they only had around 25 pages each. Slowly, and in narratively satisfying ways as Jade thinks about or talks to each of her friends, the other characters have been worked back in, turning Act 3 from Jade’s story into an ensemble piece.

As I get further into Homestuck, I’m finding myself with fewer burning questions, and more faith in the story’s method of revealing itself. But here’s the things on my mind as our fourth and final Beta Kid takes her place in the narrative.

What is Jade bad at? What are the skills that don’t come easily to Jade, or the everyday tasks where she struggles and makes mistakes?

Under what circumstances does Jade receive her knowledge, and in what form? Would she still have access to these powers in a different location? Is what Jade knows at all tied to what the player or reader knows?

Does Jade’s grandfather know about Skaia, and is this why he chose to live on this island, or is this coincidence? What exactly are his expectations for her, and what does he lecture her about beyond carrying a rifle and becoming a Daughter of Eclectica?

What does it mean for the narrative when a character knows more than the player? More than the author? How does an author even write a character like that? When does everything start falling apart?

Will these be our four main characters for the rest of the story, with WV and PM as secondary characters? Is this the end of major character introductions? Or are there more to come?

[junos-jrabbles]

Hi! I have a TF2 request/suggestion for you if you want. You can choose the mercs you like to use, though I may humbly request Engie. Romantic or platonic, and in whatever form you would like.

The team has a new recruit! They are one of the most genuine, patient, friendly, sweetest people one could ever meet. They make everyone breakfast in the mornings, they listen to people's problems, they volunteer at a puppy orphanage, talk down muggers in the street, essentially a bottle of sunshine as a person.

On the battlefield however, they are most certainly one of the scariest people alive. They are incredibly strong and durable, no need for weapons when they can tear people apart with their bears hands and teeth. They are brutal, carnage incarnate, and have absolutely no fear whatsoever.

Now, their sweetness is genuine, they are not faking anything. Outside of battle they are one of the most pleasant, stable people on the team. If ever asked, the best reply they can ever give is "This is a war with no true death. (Thanks to the respawn machine) When you can play a game with no consequences, why not have a little fun? ~"

What do the mercs think about their new teammate? How did they react to seeing their first time on the battlefield? How scary is the game with a player who doesn't care?

(sorry for the length there, I get all excited. This would obviously only really work if the respawn machine is a part of the setting.)

Thank you so much for the request!! My first one :) And don’t worry about the length!!! I love excited rambles x3

Sorry that this is short!! i wrote a little hcs list for this for a little more content, but it might take a lil longer to post LOL I'll link it here when it's ready <3 and sorry for the wait, i hope this is what you were lookin for!!

Wild, meet tame.

Engineer/GNC Reader, 1k words

It was like watching a switch flip, he'd never seen it before, ever. Not as drastically as it would with you, at least. One minute he'd be wiping encrusted blood off the turret of his sentry, remnants of some poor enemy Scout, when he'd turn his head to see you barreling into the front lines. The team's Medic struggles, then practically gives up trying to keep up with your rampaging pace.

“It's like zhey don't… don't care!” Medic howls, crouching down by his dispenser to recoup lost energy. He shrugs, you're one hell of a bottled storm out here, and he can only wonder if there's anything deeper down that you're hiding away. He can see you still, just barely, from the vantage point he'd set his nest in, and by God was it a bloodbath down there. The enemies are torn to shreds in seconds, not unusual when under fire from the hulking Heavy and his repertoire of miniguns. But, the lack of gunfire is what was most unsettling.

He could see you, teeth bared, lunging in a fruitful hunt for blood, the enemy soldier screaming as he tried to kick you off of him, nearly blowing you both to bits, but sky high like a bloody firework. It was effective, and their offensive pushes were a lot weaker with someone like you guarding the captured points. There was always a nervous hum in the air when someone would call out your death, a moment for the enemy to recoup, only for them to be torn down by your wrath again.

It'd been nothing but victories recently, and it was unlike anything they'd ever experienced. Even those above them had been a little nicer recently, and boy it sure was infectious.

“Y’doing alright there, Engie?” He closed the fridge door, and looked around. What had he come in here for, that your voice had drawn him out of his search for? The cold air that brushed past him raised a shiver across his skin.

“Whatever you're after, I can cook up, I don't mind.” You're humming, pouring something into a pan on the stove, and whatever it is, smells amazing.

“Those pancakes?” He asks, stepping over gingerly, usually anyone brave enough to cook in the communal kitchen would tell any company to get out, lest they be branded by a scorching hot spatula across the face. Not you though.

“Yeah! I'll make you a few. You been eating enough, all holed up in that workshop of yours?” The sweet smell is even stronger now as you flip the pancakes, your words just as sweet, with a simple, kind hesitance in the playful tease. He knows you wouldn't poke fun at his work.

“I think there's some honey or chocolate chips around here if you want some in ‘em, hon.” And with that small mission given, you're back to humming some classical piece he'd heard playing in Medic’s office once or twice, familiar.

There's a beat of silence as he just… watches you. Only for a moment, eyes lingering where they should, just curious. He wants to ask something, but the words don't exactly come easily. He turns, and begins to rummage through some of the slightly-too-high cabinets, finding the chocolate chips, which some dickhead has placed just out of reach. He reaches high, tip toed, fingers just barely tickling the bag before he manages to swipe it down off the shelf, and bring it over to you.

The bag hits the counter with a rattly thwump, and you lean over, looking inside. “These’ll do just fine…” The smile on your face is nearly eerily pleasant as you take the bag and dump a small handful into the poured batter. There's a smoky smell in the air, but the baked goods seem fine, and Pyro isn't hanging around yet.

There's been a few moments where he questions you, your motives, your actions, but… You hadn't done anything to seem like a bad person. If anything, you'd done nothing but prove the opposite! Hell, even the Doc's birds liked you, and that's a real feat! “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” He muttered, pondering you deeply, though trying not to, you'd done nothing to earn such scrutiny.

He's staring, he's sure, but he can't seem to pull his gaze away from you. “What made you erh…” Ordinary of him to start a sentence without being sure if where to take it. “Consider… this, as a mercenary, ain't the greatest work for kind folk like you.” He huffs, stepping over to your side, leaning against the flour smeared counter. “As kind as you want to be, at least.” He squints curiously, you're not quite looking at him, glancing to him out to corner of your eye once in a while.

“Am I being investigated, copper?” You coo, smiling coyly, and flip a pancake onto a plate to your left before turning right to face him, crossing your arms across your chest. “I know what you're thinking.”

The air around you is warm, and swirling with the delectable smells of baking and everything sweet. “It's different here, than out there.” You turn back to the pan, prepping another pancake.

A shrill squeak rings out from the hall, and you both snap your heads to the noise, before it squeals down the hall, away from the kitchen.

“What in tarnation— I don't think you're some… monster,” He chides, shaking his head and wringing his gloves hands.

“Not at all, but it's just… So fascinatin’. Watching you go about, tearin’ them to shreds like it's nothin’ to ya, don't even flinch when the enemy Sniper gets a pick on you!”

Even he was prone to a nervous moment or two in a fight, but you seemed to have some sort of miraculous handle on it all though.

“I know it's different.” He resigns, and you slide another pancake onto the plate, then towards him.

You shrug, and turn the stove off, placing a small cover over the larger plate of previously made pancakes.

“There’s no harm in going a little crazy out there, I might come back with a new scar if I'm unlucky, but, well…” Your lips are pursed tightly as you mull over your next words.

“Well, there's nothing to it, we can't die, Dell.” You murmur, he takes a pancake and gingerly bites into it.

“The real fight is only lost when one team gets bored and gives up, basically, so why not have a little fun with it?”

[silenttrxxs]

demon choi san! x witch reader!

nsfw! no minors, 18+ , (a slap), mentions of inhumane part.

running through the streets your feet stinging as you focused solely on the destination in front of you, weaving in and out of the crowds of people. You never thought that this day would have came. You was pushed from your own coven. The people you was supposed to trust with your whole life and soul, in which you did now turnt on you, casting you to live the rest of your eternity far away from them. Now you dont know how long you had been running for, the sting of the balls of your feet hinting to the fact you may have been running for a while. You swung a sharp left, finding an old apartment that looked somewhat habitable. You grabbed your bag tightly, pushing through the door and sighing as you saw it kitted with a bed and some blankets thanking the heavens above for you having a little luck through this awful day.

You grabbed your phone out of your bag putting it on charge as you laid in the bed. You sighed letting yourself rest a little. Your emotions bubbling up as you laid there staring at the ceiling. You let the tears fall from your eyes. You sobbed as you felt your heart burning aflame, the anger spilling from your veins as you sat up, blinded by your own emotions you stood up, casting a spell that you had heard about from the rumors spread across town. You started chanting the incantation, the room dimming, the only light glaring was a hazy red glow, you gasped as the room filled with smoke. You tried to stop the spell but it continued, you tried to hide as the room became brighter the red glow getting closer to you as you hid under the blanket.

You felt a warmth above you, not wanting to move you tried your hardest to stay still. The warmth only spreading across your body as you kicked out hoping whatever was above you would move away allowing you to move. You gasped as you heard the thud of whatever was above you hit the floor. A gasp being heard as you moved slowly pulling the blanket from your grasp. You sighed a breath of relief when your gaze locked to the person on the floor. "h-hi-" you said your voice shaky. The fear still coursing through your veins as the room still cast itself in a hazy red glow.

"yeah, hi thanks for the kick to the groin, nice to meet you..y/n" the person says. You look closer as he speaks, noticing the small horns poking from his temple as he speaks. "oh so, youre a demon then" you say realising the weight of what you have just done as you speak the words.

"yeah sorry about that ..wait.. who are you then ive never seen you around before" you say. "well, im san and of course you haven't silly you just summoned me" san says a small giggle leaving his lips.

"o-oh ... erm ... well yeah" you say not sure what to do now you have done this.

-- time skip --

its been 5 years, from the moment you had met san, something about him drew you closer and closer, you now was waking up in the mornings to freshly cooked breakfasts in the home of your dreams. You couldnt have asked for anything better, you had long forgotten the pain that being pushed from your coven caused you, you had been speaking with fate a lot and realised that somehow, she had a plan for you all along. You took this as her plan that she had created for you. Leading your paths to always lead towards him.

You smiled as you walked into the room, the smell of the bacon and eggs being cooked invading your nose, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you walked towards the man cooking. You arms wrapping around his torso, the bare skin glistening with a slight sheen as the heat radiated from him. He let out a content sigh as your arms wrapped around him.

"morning sleepyhead" he says, turning around to pick you up and place your body on the counter.

You gasp as the cold surface hits your skin. A giggle leaving sans lips as he continues cooking, plating the food and lifting a slice of bacon, feeding the food to you. You moan at the taste, laughing as the noise caused sans face to change colour a blush spreading across his cheeks as his horns move slightly, the tips blush with a red.

"oh sannie look at you" you breathe out as you reach up, caressing his horns a little as you look at him. A scoff being heard leaving sans lips as his hands gripped your sides. You winced a little as the harshness of his grip sent a shiver down your spine.

You let out a whine as you felt his grip pulling you closer to his body, the air thickening with a aura of lust and desire. "You know just how to push my button dont you princess" he breathes out. Sighing as he takes in the heat radiating from your body as he smirks, your body reacting to his every touch and movement.

"fuck you san" you breathe out, within the moment the words leave your lips you wince and moan, his hand making contact with your cheek. The slap harsh enough to cause you to clench around nothing. The lacy underwear you picked out now becoming soaked with your own arousal.

You let out a breath as he breath, as if he was inhaling your scent. You look at him, your eyes now hooded with lust and need. You grip onto his shoulders your hand finding the back of his head pulling him down to crash yourselves together in a heated kiss. You bodies moving in sync with each other. The room filling with the sounds of your bodies interwining together. You gasp when you feel your body moved, your body now pressed against the cold frame of the counter. You let out a breathy moan as you felt the cold air hit your aching core. The pants long gone as you feel the warmth replaced with the familiar feeling of sans fingers entering your aching core. Your arousal pooling out and onto his hand. "Fuck baby youre soaked" he breathes out taking the digits out from your abused hole as tasting your arousal. Moaning loudly he grips his cock coating it in you before sliding his throbbing cock into you. He watched as he thrusted into you hard bottoming out before starting to thrust into you at a demonic pace. He giggled to himself, your name slipping from his tongue as he gripped onto your body, his tail now wrapped around your body holding you into place as he fucked into you harder. Your body becoming limp as the pleasure coursed throughout your body. You whined as he wrapped his hand around your throat squeezing any last resemblance of bratiness, your body completely and utterly surrending to his every move. You gasped as the familiar knot in your stomach tightened hard. You came, his load mixing with yours as he groaned biting into your skin. You hissed as his teeth latched into your skin.

"my good girl"

[forestfrolickingfairy78]

LU Wild x Reader Part 3: Sharing stories

Okay, I forgot how long this piece was but I'll be slowly putting it up every week. Part three yayyy we get to meet Malon hehe! Sorry its a bit short, I actually need to edit some parts so there's extra work to do but here we goooo

Start here!

Malon and Link’s house is adorable, it’s the cutest little place tucked away in a farm, looking over the forest and rest of castle town. Just stepping underneath the expanse of the blue sky makes me want to live here.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so jealous of your house!” I can’t contain my excitement, wrapping my hands together. A few moments later the door opens, and a beautiful woman steps out, Time is smiling, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy. She reaches her arms around him, both melting into each other. I can’t help admiring them, tilting my head at the endearing look they share. My gaze falls towards Wild for a moment, raising a slight brow in mockery and nudges my arm.

“I can’t lie, their adorable.” I say, echoing the sentiment everyone else is probably feeling. Most of us are staring in pure admiration, watching them pull away. Time places a soft kiss against Malon's head.

“It feels like forever,” she says, letting go then stares at the rest of us, a hand against her hip before landing her eyes on me.

“Oh! I you must be y/n," Link wrote about you so much to me, come in the rest of you.” I look towards Link, finally this time the old man actually smiles at me, to my relief. I almost let out an audible sigh.

“Told you he was fine.” Wild whispered. I roll my eyes, continuing inside as they lead us into their home. It’s so cozy, and there’s already a whole table full of food set up for us. For a long moment we just let them be, sitting around as we all hungrily stare at the plates. Neither of us reaching for food, striving to be polite. Wild pouts, and Legend reaches his hand out before Sky swats his arm.

“Not yet! Can’t you just be a little patient?” it all makes us laugh, but then my stomach cramps. Hungrily.

“Oh! You guys can all eat, what are you waiting for? We’ll be there in a moment.” Her eyes are still on Time’s, it’s almost like he’s forgotten the rest of us exist. I can’t blame him really, but I still keep looking towards them.

Perfect, their so perfect together.

Again I catch Wild glancing towards me, a smirk growing on his face until I snap out of it, realising their all looking at me. A blush spreads across my face, embarrassed.

“What’s up with you? Daydreaming about having a life like that?” I kick Wild’s leg, a few others noticing, like Twilight.

“Ew, no? what on earth.” I stutter, not coming out the way I intended at all.

“Isn’t it what everyone wants? It’s cool to explore the world but at the end of the day something like this is peaceful…well having someone.” Sky says, hand against his cheek. I keep my face non chalant, but it’s true. And knowing I may not ever get it, really stings.

"that’s so lame.” Legend rolls his eyes, but the others are quiet.

“It definitely warrants that, and who are you lying too? We know how much you miss-“ Sky gives Warriors a cautionary glance, softening his expression as Legend looks genuinely hurt. I’m still quiet, staring below at the floors.

For the rest of the evening Malon kindly asks us questions, about where we’re from. And me, which is a little hard to explain granted I sort of jumped through a well and ended up here.

“Do you think you’ll stay?” she poses the question casually, and everyone looks at me.

“Aha well…I don’t really know yet. It would be nice to stay, but then everyone else will have to go back home at some point, and I suppose my home isn’t really here.” The realisation hurts, and suddenly I don’t have a huge appetite anymore. Time looks at me sympathetically, and Wild also softens, knowing how I truly feel about Twilight right now. He may already have someone in mind anyway right? Best to keep expectations low.

“Whew! I’m kind of full, I think I’ll go for a walk. Would it be okay if I walk?” I push my plate forward, clearing my throat. The tension is making my face heat.

“Oh of course, just don’t wander too far. I’d hate for you to run into a monster at this time.” Time almost looks traumatised just as before, but Wild chips in once again.

“I can come!” I look at him, surprised, but suppose it would be good to talk. He’s really the only one I can sort of confide in right now.

“Sure.”

It’s cold, really cold around here that’s worse than the camp night. I’m shivering, pulling my sleeves while looking up at the moon, remembering that story Time told us about how it had almost fallen and crushed the entire world. It still feels like a silly fable, but then again this whole chance to be in Hyrule is pretty unbelievable.

“So that’s the moon in question? It looks friendly.” Wild says, staring up at while removing his cape, placing it over my shoulders. I freeze, holding onto the end then glance towards him, holding onto the fabric. It carries the scent of peppermint and wood, all the adventures he told us around the fire lingering in this fabric.

“What- aren’t you cold?” I say, letting my hand down. He puffs out his chest, albeit very much freezing and not doing a good job of hiding it.

“I’ve braved snow capped mountains in this tunic, this is nothing.” His teeth chatter, but I giggle.

“Alright, if you’re sure, hero. Also, the moon looks like cheese to me.”

“Cheese?”

“See the craters?”

“Well if I look too long I’m afraid it might start to resemble a face. Do you think the old man was serious about the moon falling?” I give him an incredulous look.

“Do I? at this point anything is possible for me.”

“Oh…right. I mean in my world it turned red. A very, aggressive and blood sort of red. Then at exactly midnight all the creatures and monsters I slayed came back to life." He narrates his story again, walking through the fields while I listen intently watching his eyes colour with intensity.

Once we're closer to the edge of a hill, We come to a stop, overlooking the town square, quiet at this time with a few fires flickering distantly. My stomach churns, the lingering realisation becoming more prominent each day that all this will fade. Wild stops talking, facing me.

“Wait sorry- I forgot about your world-“ he says quietly, "Tell me about it!" I'd been pushing away any thoughts about home, even though I'd come from there, part of me never felt like I'd belonged.

"Nothing too interesting to talk about, really." His expression fades, curiousity dimming. "Really? I thought you were a writer though, I'm sure you've got some stories to share." They weren't worth speaking about here, I'd told them about my journals, all the books I'd read but to tell them something from my life still felt like a raw wound. Stories were best shared as scars, but mine hadn't quite healed yet.

"Umm, I don't really want to, sorry." I mumble, but he smiles again.

"Oh well, but I'm going to hold you to it. You owe me!"

[skeleton-mischief]

Im having another one of my thoughts tangents but stars above do I wonder.

(this is just my interpretation btw I love multiple versions of the Bad Sanses)

Does Dust think that the bad Sanses would be selfish? Is there a reasonable reason for him to join the Bad Sanses in some versions? He killed his entire underground thinking it was a more merciful kill than them having to go through the constant resets and he couldn't take it anymore before losing his mind. I think just making him stereotypically "psycho" doesn't give him the justice I see much of. I think the idea of taking away the happy endings of others is impossible for him, especially in specific timelines. I think that the versions of each Bad Sans having their own reasons would be fun, like how I imagine he could've been convinced by Pap to go in order to not Starve.

Don't even get me STARTED on Saint, either. He, in my opinion, joins the Bad Sanses to provide safety and food for the underground. His whole character is defending and caring for the underground despite his rough edges. It's not like he would abandon his brother and village when they're victims of fate and cruel circumstances. The idea that Killer killed everyone to just FEEL something? At least there's some level of understanding for Dust even if he also would dislike him. I've always seen Saint as a character always wanting to protect the weak, or at least protect helpless monsters in bad situations. That could lead to a whole way of him bonding with Dust for that matter

If I'm to think of Killer in the way everyone™ in the fandom sees him, he would have the least justification.

,,,,BUT WHAT IF I THINK OF SOMETHING A LITTLE DIFFERENT?

What if Killer decided to join the human to try and stop the resets like Dust? That his method wasn't just to "stop feeling awful" or to "feel nothing at all." I think Sans as a character is very fascinating, and I like to personally think he would pair with Chara as a way not to stop Frisk, but rather to stop the player. It would be interesting to think a part of Chara and Sans are fused into a soul rather than Killer y'know,,,,killing them. I don't care for the evil Chara interpretations, and I think this could lead to a more empathetic light to a character (Killer) with a really cool concept. It's a shame to me that out of all the Bad Sanses, Killer has the least justification and doesn't have that slice of humanity in him that could give him empathy from people in the community

These are just my personal takes, even if whoever reads this may think they're bad takes. Again, I LOVE almost every version someone has of a character so many people can interpret in different ways. I just like adding my own twist to try and pump more depth into each of these silly guys

Thanks for reading if you read this much of my rambling🙂‍↕️🫶

[oneinathousand]

I've assembled some lesser-known quotes about Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, I hope there's at least one in here that most of you have never seen before, though the super-fans among you have likely seen them all ;)

Lee fancies himself playing Aragorn, the archetypal heroic figure of the piece - he would probably be cast as Sauron, the Satanic figure in Tolkien's Middle Earth - but he feels that only a Walt Disney feature cartoon could possibly do justice to the work.

-"Cinemafantastique" Vol 3 No 1 (Fall 1973)

I knew that Lee wanted to play Gandalf when he jumped on board the LOTR movie trilogy, but I didn't know he apparently originally wanted to play Aragorn! My guess is that once he got older, he figured he would be better as Gandalf, though of course he didn't get it. But Lee as Aragorn... if he played the part in the late 50's, 60's or early 70's, I could see him pulling it off, what with his swordfighting abilities. Did he ever comment on the Ralph Bakshi adaptation?

After the liberation of Germany, he [Lee] visited a number of the concentration camps, including Dachau, a deeply disturbing experience which, he says, provided him with such a close-up view of the charnel house side of real life that he is unaffected by anything he sees or does on the screen.

-The Dracula Scrapbook, Peter Haining

I have decided now to tell a tale a bit "out of school" regarding the relationship between Peter and Helen Cushing, especially since this is a lady who remains a bit of a mystery to most Cushing fans - like a figure out of an Edgar Allan Poe tale, considering the way Peter lionized her as if she was indeed his "lost Lenore." During the latter part of 1977, I saw quite a bit of Christopher Lee as he and his family were living in Los Angeles where he played golf (and made the occasional film or television movie of the week.) One afternoon, we were at lunch, and the subject of Peter and his wife came up in conversation; Christopher leaned over to me and said, "You know David, Helen Cushing was a bit of a psychic vampire in life; she kept Peter very close. It was as if she could read his very thoughts before they had them. They really were soulmates of the first order; make no mistake about that! I don't think Helen ever really trusted me where Peter was concerned - even after he and I had made several films together. In fact, Helen used to say to me, "I know you think you are now bigger than my husband don't you?" Well, I just looked at her, smiled and said, "Well Helen, I am taller than Peter you know." Christopher felt that Peter had such guilt - imagined or not - about anything he might have done when they were married; if for example he ever found himself attracted to any of the Hammer glamour girls; whom he worked opposite, it all was now too much to bear. On the other hand, Vincent Price responded to Peter's intense mourning with his usual brand of humor. During the filming of Madhouse, he observed Peter discussing ways of communication from beyond the grave by perhaps installing a phone in the crypt; Vincent listened to all this and then replied with that unmistakably deadpan voice, "Well Peter, what if she's out?"

-David Del Valle, "Diabolique" #16

A few of you may recall seeing a quote posted here from Lee calling Helen a psychic vampire. I tried to find the source for that, but I couldn't. Instead I found this other version, possibly by the same person, which seems to give more insight about what Lee actually thought of Helen, and it comes off as much less harsh on his part than the other one.

A while back, I looked up interviews about the making of The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, and I swore I saw a magazine or something where Roy Ward Baker, the co-director of the movie along with the Shaw Brothers, said something about Cushing during the making of it to the effect of: “He was absolutely miserable, poor bugger.” But I forgot to take a screenshot of it then and for the life of me I couldn’t remember where it came from, I tried to look through my search history but couldn’t find it. I swear that I saw it, though!

Oh well. Next up is a quote about Lee and Cushing watching Looney Tunes together for the last time, get your tissues out...

In the early 90s I worked for Hammer Films and was asked to organise a voiceover recording for a Hammer Films documentary. Both Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee had agreed to work together one last time. Christopher Lee had asked me to organise one thing: a television and a VHS player in a private room and to have some alone time with Peter. After the recording, I cleared the studio and left Peter and Christopher alone with the TV. They hadn’t noticed that I was still at the mixing desk so I waited to see what they were going to be watching. I saw Count Dooku and Grand Moff Tarkin sit watching Looney Tunes cartoons – each doing perfect impersonations of Sylvester the Cat and Tweety Pie – all line perfect! I can’t remember exactly – but I think Christopher Lee was Tweety Pie and Peter Cushing was Sylvester.

-"Popbitch" 2015 Annual, the quote is just credited to a "JH", but IMDB lists a Jane Hughes as having worked as an assistant director in the Canterbury studio where Lee and Cushing recorded their voiceover, so this is most likely her. I personally would like to believe that Lee was playing Sylvester and Cushing was Tweety because Lee said he was always Sylvester to Cushing, and come on, Cushing MUST have been Tweety, that character would fit him like a glove!

For this final quote, I'm gonna do something different and copy-paste a whole interview done with Lee by a guy named John Exshaw about Cushing a year before the latter died for the magazine Cinema Retro, the interview being put up on their website. The formatting on the interview is all messed up, so I fixed the apostrophes and em-dashes and will put the whole thing here for your enjoyment.

I find this interview fascinating not so much for what Lee says about Cushing, but for how it implied he saw himself compared to Peter:

I didn’t meet him until we did the first Hammer movie. I’d seen him. Of course the thing which I’d seen which impressed me most, understandably, was 1984, which was remarkable. He was wonderful in that… Live TV! [shudders]

Total dedication; and this is the answer to why Peter Cushing is an actor. Total dedication. Total! The most professional actor I have ever worked with. And I’m not going to say underrated, because he isn’t underrated. He’s highly regarded all over the world as a brilliant actor, and deservedly so. The record shows that… Also, one thing that we do share, I think, more than anything, which is more important than anything else - I think we share the same dedication, I think we share professionalism, I think we share the same feelings about doing the best we can - one thing we certainly share is the same sense of humor, which of course the general public is totally unaware of. If they knew what we got up to on the set in every film we’ve made… the imitations that I used to do… Oh, we used to dance together in the rushes, yes; me made up as the Frankenstein creature, a sort of, a sort of, what do you call it - buck-and-wing dance, you know. And in years and years and years he and I have shared this idolatrous love of the Warner Brothers cartoons, you see, and Sylvester, and Tweetie Pie, and Yosemite Sam. And I’ve always imitated them, you see, and he’s done the same. And we used to do that on a set; people used to think we’d gone out of our minds, and we’d make each other laugh. Sometimes it’s so important - in a way, it’s absolutely essential - but we’re both of us ice-cold when it comes to doing it, even if we’ve been been laughing a few moments before. And that’s a thing we also share, total concentration.

And what can I say about Peter Cushing that I haven’t said before? I mean, consummate actor, brilliant technician, and a marvellous human being. I’ve always said, you know - I’m sure you’re aware of this - that he should have been a priest… Because there is a great love for his fellow man. There’s an almost superhuman loving kindness in Peter, and it’s always been in there. I’ve never heard him say anything harsh about anyone. He’s also a deeply religious man. Those are the two things we don’t have in common. I’m afraid I do say what I think. I’m not tactless but I am a more direct person than he is. I don’t have his tolerance. I don’t have his gentleness. I don’t have his faith; I wish I did…

He is not an easy person to get to know, believe you me. There’s a lot about Peter that I don’t know… But of course, as you know, Helen died in the 1970’s and that is his only desire left in life. And it’s genuine. He has stayed alive because he’s a man who would never take his own life because that would be a great sin, and he has stayed alive through some pretty terrible experiences, you know. He’s had cancer, and problems with his legs, his hips, breathing, and all sorts of medical problems, but the spirit is unquenchable and the speed of thinking and the mind haven’t changed at all. I mean, it’s another cliche - the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. The same thing with Vincent [Price]; mind like a rapier, both of them. Only the physical disabilities of getting old…

But he’s certainly one of a kind, and of course this business of staying alive, simply existing, which is how he looks at his life - existence. He’s only waiting for that moment; only waiting for it. And he’s been waiting now for twenty-three years. It must be terrible to be so admired and so loved and so respected but to impose, I feel, on yourself, deliberately, a sort of monastic seclusion which he seems to prefer. He seems to; I mean, you wouldn’t think of it if you saw him with a group of people but I think he prefers to be alone. I don’t think the house is full of people. I don’t think there’s many very, very close, intimate friends - but nor have I, and nor have many people.

Acquaintances, yes; admirers, yes - scores of thousands all over the world, people who feel they know him, people who feel that he’s a friend - all that. That’s on a professional basis; I think on a personal basis, I get the impression that he’s a person who keeps his life and his relationship with his wife very much to himself. It’s locked up in a cupboard of which he has the key. He doesn’t open that cupboard and release anything unless he chooses to. But I don’t either.

[bleue-flora]

speaking of lore inaccuracy I have been seeing people saying that c!sapnap dragged c!tommy into the first war with c!dream because c!sapnap stole c!tommys stuff and I can't find the clip for that but I take their word for it but c!tommy would have attacked c!dream regardless of that or not. Like if i remember correctly, c!tommy was talking about how he's sick of wars and doesn't want to be involved only to then go ahead and steal a bunch of stuff and kill people without giving back gear. c!sapnap may have dragged him into that fight with c!dream where they end up 2v1ing him but I think in the grand scheme of events it doesn't matter because he would have attacked him in another time somewhere else, nothing changes

[context]

Anon, please. I’m so triggered as it is but I also have like 700+ something pictures of dsmp map and I’d like to talk about some more of it before we hop subjects. I know, I’ve seen, I’m going do a post on it soon as I feel like someone needs to set the record straight and apparently my first [post] wasn’t enough (in fact, I may or may not have actually spent the better part of yesterday rewatching those streams). But I plead mercy, I have a Lot of different brain rots going on all at once from the time dilation we talked about the other week [post], to finally knowing what these maps are [post] [post] and the enchants of Quackity’s tools [post], to learning more about the prison [post], staged duo note [post], Dream’s hand writing and the letter to Techno [post]… etc… I am losing it… please send a medic, the brain rot is too strong.

Having said that though, I’m answering this incase you are in an ongoing debate with someone and need it, here is the [clip] you are talking about I believe. The argument that Sapnap pulled him into it only goes so far as Tommy can make his own decisions the same way Tubbo can. Also some of what made that conflict bigger was specific things Tommy did so blaming it on Sapnap is kinda ridiculous. It’s not like that’s even his first war or something anyways, Tommy is always down to kill Dream all on his own (and if you need proof of that, here is just one example [clip]).

Plus in this instance - as in the instance that starts the disc saga - Tommy is high off of his kill and says ‘we should kill more people whilst we’re at it’ and Dream just logged log on so Sapnap is like ‘should we kill Dream?’ and Tommy answers ‘Yeah let’s kill Dream!’ which hardly seems like Sapnap pulled him in to it. And if they are referring to the war prior to Dream logging on, that doesn’t matter anyways. The disc saga didn’t start when they went after Alyssa and Ponk, the disc saga started when they killed Dream unprovoked and refused to give back his stuff afterward [clip] [clip].