#the older they get the better they get @ life

[muwapsturniolo]

Nipple or Tip ( • )( • ) C. Sturniolo

"I also saw one of those weird makeup hacks-"

⟢ funny shit tbh. nipples and tips of dick are mentioned as well as balls. chris being unhinged in ulta, reader done with his bs but also down with his bs.

dividers by the one and only rose toy @bernardsbendystraws

You were a beauty lover, it was well known by everyone in your life. When you were a kid, you were constantly in your moms makeup bag, messing up her high-priced lipsticks and eyeshadows on a daily basis.

As you got older, that love for makeup stayed.

You had a whole beauty room in your two-bedroom apartment. You had the vanity, the box lights as well as ring lights, and drawers on top of drawers filled with makeup you may not even have a chance to touch.

Chris knew of your love for makeup, he has been in you're beauty room one too many times to think otherwise. He never saw it as too much because he knew it was your way of expressing yourself - he was never the one to hate on expression.

So here he was, driving you to the place he should just invest in at this point.

Ulta.

You spent so much time there, that the workers recognize you. You have the credit card, you've racked up points, and you memorized the aisles. This was basically your third home, the first being your own and the second being Chris's.

"Alright, what do you need today?"

You proceed to go through your list as you walk inside the bright store, the sound of Billie's "Birds of a Feather" playing over the speakers. The song distracts him for a moment, but he comes back to reality hearing you say foundation.

"Wait, didn't you just get a new foundation?"

"Well...Yes, but I need another one!" He gives you a look as the two of you walk over to Wyn Beauty. "Technically, you don't need another one. You have about forty of them, but who am I to complain considering you're paying?"

It's comical to him the way you stop in your tracks, your eyes widening in disbelief. "What do you mean I'm paying? It's your turn to pay!"

Chris chuckles to himself, fixing the beanie on his head. "I'm just pulling your clit."

"Chris please stop fuckin' talking to me. That's not even how the damn saying goes!"

He giggles like a schoolboy and kisses your shoulder, motioning to the bright green packaging in front of you. "Go ahead and pick out your millionth foundation."

And so you do, you pick out a new foundation...and concealer, primer, setting spray, bronzer, lip gloss, and lipstick.

"Ok, now a lip liner." Your words spark Chris's interest, his mind going back to a specific video he saw not too long ago. The two of you start walking over to NYX, and he decides to fill you in on the content he consumed.

"So like, I saw this makeup video on tik- Why are you getting makeup videos on TikTok? What girl are you sending them to?"

"I'm getting them because of you, dumbass. You're the only girl that actually puts up with me, why would I talk to another one?" You snicker to yourself knowing he's right.

He's too in love with you to go find someone else.

"Anyway, like I was saying. I saw this video on TikTok where this girl was trying out these makeup hacks or secrets, whatever it's called. So she said the best way to match your lip liner is to match it to your nipples! Crazy shit, but it has me thinking, what if you matched it to the tip of my dick?"

All you could do was stare at him in silence.

"You being deadass?"

He shrugs before answering you, a smirk that shows he's up to no good making its way onto his face. "I mean, I think it would look nice on you. A nice pinky red....It's up your alley anyway considering you have a blush named 'orgasm' and a mascara called 'better than sex' ."

"Didn't I tell you to stop talking to me?" He groans and pulls you closer, his hands settling right on top of your ass. "Come on it would be funny! I will literally give you my card and let you roam in TJ Maxx and I will take you to Chili's!''

"You had me at TJ Maxx."

You whip your phone out, thanking yourself for buying a privacy screen, and begin scrolling through your privet photo albums to find a picture of Chris's dick.

"Wait, you should match one to your nipples too. Then we can compare which one looks better."

He could be so childish at times, but you were the exact same.

The two of you stand in the aisle, holding up different shades of pink and brown to your phone. Eventually, you two settle on "Rose" and "Nutmeg", the two colors being the closest you could get.

Soon the two of you are back in the car and Chris is urging you to try on both lip liners, refusing to drive until he sees them on you. You first try on the brown shade, lining your lips with ease. It was a pretty color, simple and not unusual considering you always wore brown lipliner.

You turn to Chris, asking him what he thinks. "Sexy as usual. You know I like it when you do the brown ones." You smile at his flattering words, giving him a quick peck on the lips before wiping the lip liner off. You unravel the pink liner and swipe it on, rubbing your lips together so it blends out.

"So what do we think? Nipple or tip?"

You see the way his eyes dart across your face, analyzing everything about you.

"Both look good, you know you can make everything look good. It's what I love about you." You find your cheeks getting warm, never getting used to the way he makes you feel so good, even on days when you look like a bum.

"Come on, I promised to let you roam in TJ Maxx." He puts the car in reverse and begins driving towards the retail store. The drive is quiet for the most part, nothing but music and the occasional small talk. As soon as the two of you make it to TJ Maxx, Chris turns to you before getting out of the car.

"You know, I also saw one of those weird makeup hacks where this girl put her foundation on with her boyfriend's balls."

"This the last time imma tell you to shut up talkin' to me!"

[narrativerehearsal]

More than that, having friends who are older than you can give you perspective and life lessons that you cannot get from your direct peers.

One of the most life changing friendships I had was with a woman who was 35 years older than me and terminally ill. She had the best stories, she was a wild character and she taught me many life lessons that changed my life for the better.

I need you people to realize that you can be friends with people older than you. like, much older than you. like, decades older than you. you can be friends with these people. regular friends, just like anyone your age. it is possible.

[dykespirk]

I think both tos and aos Jim survived Tarsus. but I think tos Jim was older (15-17) and aos Jim was younger (10-12).

I think tos Jim became the de facto leader of children survivors (as we see with Kevin Riley and Thomas), because of his age. That Jim carries the survivor’s guilt of not being able to save more kids—of watching the youngest ones die (ostensibly) in his care. his coping mechanism is thus leadership—usurping and clinging to positions of authority in an effort to save others; he craves authority, wants and needs to embody it to turn it into something that would’ve saved the others, would’ve saved him. Starfleet becomes his white whale. he needs the myth of Starfleet—an intergalactic emblem of peace, carving through deep space purely to discover (and defend). he embraces starfleet’s militarism because it echoes his understanding of power (some evils need to be defeated; innocents need to be protected). Jim also loves to defend—to entrench and hold boundaries (with the Klingons, the Romulans, with any hostile life). deep space is at the same time mystical—where birth and rebirth are always possible, where miracles happen every day—and orderly, where regulations and boundaries are clearly defined. Jim finds solace and role stability in this space, defending others, acting as a father figure, and indulging in hyper-independence & isolation.

that’s how we get tos Jim, who’s desperate for connection & intimacy, but ultimately clings to his leadership role like it can sustain him—like it’s all that can sustain him. (love, you’re better off without it, and I’m better off without mine. this ship, I give, she takes…I’m the captain…I’ve lost the enterprise, I’m losing command…nothing is more important than my ship) the guardian role is essential to his self-image.

conversely, aos Jim was the child. he was the scared, too-skinny kid who had the rug ripped from under him. aos Jim is born into a world where fatherhood/authority is already dead; George Kirk’s absence is a gaping hole in his life. Starfleet’s idealism makes martyrs, but it also cannibalizes its men to sustain its ideals. George’s replacement, Frank, neglects if not abuses him. that Jim witnesses the complete breakdown of authority. he watches Starfleet come with too little, too late. he sees the older kids die. he watches his only solace from Frank’s terror, his fresh start, become a waking nightmare.

that Jim learns that no one is coming.

his coping mechanisms are withdrawal from the system entirely; to bare his teeth at it, to claw at it, to draw blood. scare them before they can scare you. act bigger than you are. appearances are everything. to distrust authority entirely. give up on Starfleet, because Starfleet is an empty vaccum that will take and take, ineffectual at its core and hypocritical at best.

instead of being defined by his attraction to space, aos Jim is defined by his inability to stay still; his distaste for Earth, for Iowa, for groundedness. for him, staying in Riverside is a kind of self-harm, one he doesn’t understand how to escape and ultimately believes he deserves.

this Jim is lonely not because he uses distance as a defense, but because he’s so distrustful of others, he genuinely can’t imagine an open hand. (enlist?)

that’s how we get the Jim that ultimately cares way more about his crew than his ship; who latches onto Bones like a leech and craves Spock; who wants connection with far less shame has absolutely no expectation of receiving it. this is the Jim that blares sabotage while charging into battle, says fuck you to the admiralty, and would rather die saving lives than live with taking them—that’s what I was raised on.

there’s also the fact that tos Jim is a Jewish man written in an era of liberal internationalist optimism underscored by the early Cold War and the shadows of the Shoah whereas aos Jim is the flashy product of peak commercialized Hollywood in a post-9/11, post George-Bush America. anyways.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 10

Added dividers because I felt like the time skip/scene change would become confusing without any indication of it.

I really need an answer on how y'all feel about Immortal x Dupli-kate cuz depending on the popular opinion stuff will change 🤐 I'm willing to split a lot of people up for the drama and/or miscommunication nonsense

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 10 >>next

Some place where the supernatural meets the normal, a little place called The Oblivion Bar, John Constantine simply sat shocked at the words he managed to hear and process through his mushed brain. Bobo closes his hung jaw, drinks his whiskey, and pats his friend’s shoulder as the man mumbles a sobering spell, cringing at the effects. “I should go. Good luck, John.” And so, the chimpanzee quickly makes his exit, leaving the Laughing Magician and Death of the Endless to their business.

“I need you to walk me through this again, luv- wasn’t quite paying attention.” Constantine shook his head as he fully turned to face the smiling entity. “You and who did what?!” He hissed, voice barely above a whisper as he tried not to bring attention to what they were saying. This was bad. Really bad.

“Lady Gotham and I took a liking to Batman’s youngest daughter and-“ John quickly interrupted her. “And gave her magical powers beyond my comprehension and immortality- yes, I heard that, did you?!” The man rubbed his face, the thought was making him want to get drunk until he dropped. ”Have you gone mad? Giving a mortal immortality is more of Dream’s style you should know better-“

Death only smiled at him, amusement filling her eyes as she gently laid a hand on his shoulder making him tense up. “She was lonely, she deserves every happiness those powers and eternity are bound to give her. You��ll understand once you see her.” And boy, did John laugh his gut out at that as he shook his finger. “No- no, no, no- there’s no way I insert myself into that mess- Bat’s family is already a mess and reeks of you without magic- No- There’s no way- that’s bonkers-“

Death gets up with a bright smile. “Thank you, John.” Her words make him stutter almost choking on his breath at the audacity. “Don’t thank me ya loon! I’m not going to help her, I’m not even going to see the moppet!” He can only yell and cuss as she leaves.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

 “Alright, Cecil-“ The old man immediately interrupted you, the little communication device in your ear buzzing with life as he told you to not use names. “… Dude… I’m miles in the air, first of all! Second, that was like a really common name once. it’ll take a while to find you specifically, and I doubt anyone could anyway- you seem like the type that would erase himself from the gov’s documents.”

“Anyway-“ You didn’t give him time to say anything else. “What house am I supposed to go to again? And why?”

The old man sighs at your antics, rubbing the side of his forehead as he feels the headache coming while he gives the address once more. “Your brother’s teacher, Mr. Hiles, has been the mall bomber. It took us a while, he was smart about it, kept his search into biological bomb-making off the internet but he wasn’t that thorough about his paper trail.”

“Be prepared for anything and a confrontation.” The older man cleared his throat. You always made him nervous; you were an unexpected equation in everything, something he couldn’t control without risking Earth. Donald and everyone else just took his weariness and suspicion as him being overly cautious, but Cecil could tell something was clinging to you that just gave him nightmares.

“And thank you- usually I would have sent someone from the Teen Team but…uh-“ His eyes followed the action on another screen. “They’re busy. Your brother and father are helping them.”

“You’re nervous. Yapping again. Chill, I’ll take care of it. Just because I don’t want to be your little puppet doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep people safe.” You found the man irritating, but for now, he was being sane, actually doing his job, so you couldn’t complain. “Getting closer to the target. Going dark.”  Was the only warning the man got before the com was powered off.

Finally ready to land you politely greeted the man, walking through the training both Cecil and Nolan provided at the start of your vigilantism. “I didn’t expect to get caught quite this early, and I certainly expected… more conventional authorities when the time did come.” Professor Hiles just sighs and welcomes you in by your birth name. “How did you-“

“Are you kidding me? Mark is unable to shut up about you. And you forget to wear your hood more times than you do wear it.” The man said as he took off his sweater. “Follow me, I’ll show you to the fourth missing student. I assure you, I have no intention of resisting.” Well… This was easier than expected.

As he started to confess about how he started doing this, he led you to his basement. “Mr. Hiles, while I understand the loss of a child to suicide, a divorce, and the loss of a job ruined you until you hit rock bottom, avenging your son like this-“

“I’m not avenging the death of my son. That would be far too cliché.” Your eyes landed on the teen strapped to the table once he turned on the light, breath hitching as you saw the skin of his arms merging sloppily with the metallic torso the professor modified. “It’s the destruction of my life that has me seeking revenge.”

“The domino effect of pain and sorrow that these monsters create. Children who spend too much time at the mall, attend parties, consume alcohol, and play sports when they should be studying and doing homework.”

“I understand your ire, I’m not one for parties or drunks, but not all kids who do that stuff go to extremes, that’s a flawed logic- it does not give you the right to play god and do-“ You tried to placate him, keeping your tone soft and even, to try and make him see reason. “What I did to all of them, turning them into living bombs, an instrument with which to exact my revenge… my crusade to end the pain and sorrow by these- ‘popular’ kids… I feel no guilt for.”

“I can’t think of a more appropriate end to my crusade-” Mr. Hiles ripped open the shirt he was wearing, revealing the same mechanism the unconscious teen had. “-than the death of a superhero!” You quickly acted, not letting him talk more beyond that as the timer set to 50 seconds started trickling down while you grabbed him, breaking through his ceilings and roof and flying high in the air.

“Is this really how you want to die? Suicide bomb? You still can make this right- you don’t have to die like this just tell me how to deactivate it!“ Your eyes remained on the clock. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen. The man just chuckled a dry, humorless laugh. “Do it. There is nothing for me anymore.” Five, four, three.

You couldn’t tell if what you felt was sorrow or shame, but you knew you were defeated. The man was going to get one final death, but it won’t be yours. As your flight came to a stop well above the clouds, you threw the man higher in front of you as the clock struck one second, and as it hit zero, the bomb detonated, the range and heat of the explosion destroying any remains while pushing you back a bit.

Your eyes remained on the cloud of smoke it created. If the cops found him before you did, the bomb would have wiped out the neighbors, too. That’s what hero life was, what it is. Sacrifices left and right that only made you feel more at odds with this job than before.

As you went back to the house, you activated the com, putting it back into your ear. Cecil immediately informs you that the police are en route as well as his clean-up team. “Get an explosive ordnance disposal technician, too. There is a teen in the basement, the bomb doesn’t seem active yet, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I’ll send a report of what happened soon.” You stayed until Cecil’s people showed up, just to be sure the boy was still breathing and that the bomb wouldn’t activate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Helping Brit and the other heroes clean up the rubble from the alien attack helped keep your mind off things. The Brit enjoyed talking about his kid and wife, yapping until he needed to take a breath and then starting again keeping a smile on your face.

You enjoyed helping clean up, especially when there were no casualties, today wasn't that type of day. But it had become the easy, relaxing part of the job, pick big rubble up, place it into the waste trucks, pick another piece up, make sure to not hit the man in the trench coat, put it in the waste- wait…

Your head snaps back to the man, squinting as your eyes meet. You each take a second to take each other in before your eyes widen in surprise. “Hello, luv. I’m-“ You couldn’t help your excitement as recognition finally settled into your brain. “I know you-“ Your words made John cringe and tense up. When others said that it never ended well for him. “You’re Johnny Con-Job, the lead singer for Mucous Membrane, dude, your band got me into the punk culture.”

That… wasn’t what he expected. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud of that or fight back the mental breakdown that was creeping up his spine. “You’re a bit young for that slop, no?” You just shrug. “Your songs got me to finally put myself first, to get the courage to sneak out, see other stuff beyond the walls of my first house, help others, and leave my neglectful family before they could seriously hurt me.” Her words worried him. John never took Bruce as the “lock his kids up” type, but the man was as paranoid as they came, he wouldn’t put that above him.

“It may be slop and shitty vocals, but it’s what I needed to hear.” You teased him while putting the rubble in the waste collector. He watched as you approached him with a soft smile and sparkling eyes. He could see what Death meant. “I need to talk to you. I’m not quite sure about what luv, but I think it’s about Batman-“ He didn’t get to finish, as soon as the name left his mouth, he was grabbed by the throat and lifted well above the clouds, way too close to the ozone layer. “Did he send you?” you hissed, giving his neck a warning squeeze.

Yup. He definitely saw what Death meant as your eyes glowed a Lazarus green. “Nno-“ He choked out. “Did Bruce Wayne send you?” her question was met with the same answer. Your grip softened, grabbing him by his coat instead of his neck as you brought him closer. “Then why are you here?”

“We need to talk in private…” He whispered as he realized the situation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This was a whole mess that John Constantine knew he should have stayed out of- he knew! From Bruce to the whole family basically ignoring the kid, not even telling her about the vigilantism, to the rogues taking her in and doing a better job of raising her to her running away and getting adopted by another hero- a hero that John knew wanted to conquer the world, the whole fucking race wanted to, the fucking demons had a problem with that and wouldn’t stop complaining to him like he can fix it- he takes a deep breath in. “Why are you telling me all of this?” He whined, rubbing his face as he sat on the edge of some skyscraper with you.

“I’m not hiding my past, I’ll happily snitch and tell a reporter that Bruce Wayne is a shit father, they all just assume I’m Nolan’s actual kid that was in the hospital for a deadly something or whatever.” You shrug. “Please don’t- not because I care about the bellend- I just don’t want to deal with… Huh. Now that I’m thinking about it, that may be great blackmail.” His words only made you snicker.

He didn’t know where to begin. Did she know about the Viltrumite? Was she in cahoots with him? Should he tell her any of that? Would she even believe his ass? Maybe he should get the JL involved...

The scruffy man shook his head. “Not why I’m here. You said your hero name is Sorceress? Great, so you know you have magic powers, that makes it easy-“ John took in your shocked expression. Of course, it wasn’t that easy, it never could be. “If this was another world, I’d call you crazy.” You told him simply. “But Midnight City is cursed, and I guess that makes sense… Is that why I can hear the shadows speak?”

John nodded before doing a double take, asking you to elaborate on the shadows speaking part.  “They just speak, whisper, giggle the whole thing. They can also emit what they feel. They’ve always been present, they’re not as strong here, but I think that’s because they’re more tied to Gotham and Midnight City… or just- where there is more darkness.”

“Well, you’re not far off there, love.” The man nodded in agreement as his eyes drifted to the dark dome around the cursed city. He knew where to start. “This is going to be a long explanation, you better strap in, hen, and let me finish before you ask questions.”

“You remember the painting and murals you made of gods and other entities, demons, angels, the whole sort, in Gotham and here? Yeah, they brought the attention to you from the entities you drew. Some of the moppets took them as a higher form of offering than others, a few of them decided to stick around you.”

“Those have also decided to- ‘bless’ you with a few gifts, I’m not sure of all of them, but I know specifically that Lady Gotham offered the shadows as a companion and protector, and I know that Death of the Endless has blessed you with… well, immortality.” There was no way of walking around that fact. “I don’t remember if any of these two also gave you your powers, I was quite sloshed, but someone did.” John looked at the kit, taking in her shocked expression before he nudged you a bit. “Come on, kid, say something. You got me all worried here.”

“It’s all just- a bit much.” You mumble. “Yeah, I get it. A lot for you to shoulder, but I’m sure you’ll power through- oh, thanks love… Wha- How-“ John’s eyes moved from the beer in his hands to the energy can you were looking at. You just shrug. "I wanted to know if I could, thought…” You narrow your eyes at the can in your hands. “I’m not sure if this is made out of thin air or just- teleported or something.”

Constantine just slowly looks back at his beer mug… She was taking this better than most. He hoped it was because the shock hadn’t worn off yet. Well, he’s had worse things in his mouth, he's sure, so with a shrug, he takes a sip, humming with delight at the taste, muttering something about this being real beer. “You’re here to help me, right? Like- with my powers… I- I think I need help with this whole worshipping gods and demons- entities- thing, too.”

He knew the easy way out would be to say no, to just leave, she had done just fine without him… But that isn’t what came out of his mouth. “Sure, poppet. Just keep on giving me this fine beer.” Given his track record with people and magic, he shouldn’t feel this accomplished at your happiness, but he was always quite selfish, so he returned your hug, even if he was a bit stiff.

“Now- usually the normal thing is to go from small stuff to big, teach the basics, but I’m not one for rules. Have you ever wanted to teleport via portals?” The big mischievous smile you gave him was all the answer he needed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You came home at the same time as Nolan and Mark, everyone’s first stop after greeting Debbie was their bedrooms to refresh themselves before going back to the dining area. “I’m going to be honest, Nolan, the longer hair and full beard fit you better than the silly mustache. Right, mom?” You couldn’t help the teasing as the whole family ate. Debbie looked at Nolan with a scrutinizing eye, before sighing and giving an amused smile. “I’ll definitely miss the beard.”

Mark snorted at the teasing as Nolan pouted, brows furrowing. “It’s not silly- it’s a rite of passage into manhood by the Viltrumite culture-“ you couldn’t help but interrupt. “It’s still a silly-looking mustache. What does the Viltrumite rite of passage for women look like?”

Nolan’s momentary displeasure at the mustache comment was overlooked as the inquiry about the Viltrumite women was brought forth. “Huh… I’m not sure, I never really paid attention to that. I think some cut their hair.” A puff of air escaped you in amusement before deciding to tease him some more. “Well, you clearly weren’t planning for a daughter that’s sure.”

Debbie just took in the chatter. She enjoyed the easy atmosphere, the laughter of her kids. “So, how was everyone’s day?” She asks once the chatter stops. “Oh, I met the Teen Team and helped them with the Flaxan attack, dad got kidnapped by them while I was trying to gather up survivors, made friends with Atom Eve, and met an alien called Allen who apparently got the wrong planet.” Mark shrugged.

“I spent the last eight months enslaved by an army from an alternative dimension, although it seems much less time has passed here. About a week ago, I led a revolt against my captors and regained control of my powers. Today, a team of scientists from the rebellion found a way to get me home.” Nolan lied as easily as he breathed.

“One of Mark’s teachers was turning his classmates into organic bombs in order to take revenge on kids he felt were like the ones who led his son to commit suicide. He turned himself into a bomb also and tried to take me out with him but clearly, it didn’t work in his favor. Helped clean up after the Flaxan mess, and met the lead singer of Mucous Membrane who apparently is a mage. He was here on behalf of Death herself to help me and tell me that my powers aren’t because I’m a meta, they’re magic. Oh, and also, I’m allegedly immortal.” You took a sip of water. “Lex also wants to know if anyone would be interested in attending one of his rich folk parties.”

At the quietness of the room, you lifted your eyes from your plate to look at everyone’s shocked glance. “What?” you ask with a mouth full of food.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That night, the teens wanted to sleep with their parents, both needing reassurance. Debbie and Mark were already gone, sleeping deep and peacefully. “Dad… You awake?” your question was whispered as your head lay on Deborah's shoulder. He answered with a warm hand squeezing your shoulder and a quiet hum. “...How do you move past people you can’t save or the people we have to sacrifice?”

Nolan wasn’t sure how to answer that, he’d never felt anything for the people he couldn’t save. He knew that if he had to save earth’s people or his kids and wife… Well… Earth can be populated again. “You look at the people who you did save. We can’t always save everyone, that’s the sad reality. It’s… painful. But it’s a truth all heroes have to come to terms with. Even I can’t save everyone.” Nolan wrapped his arms around his girls and son tighter, pulling everyone closer. “If all you could save was a person, you still did everything you could. If you couldn’t save anyone, you just have to keep your head high and try again.”

You snuggled closer into your mom, feeling her arm instinctively wrap around you as you draped yours over her and Nolan’s stomach, your fingers laying on Mark’s wrist. The sad reality of being a hero...

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I'M REALLY SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEBODY- MY DOC SOMETIMES FORGETS TO SAVE AND I HAD TO READD PPL

[aeralux]

"Love Game" - Aegon Targaryen

Modern!Aegon x Reader (pt2 to Wicked Game, but could be read on its own)

Summary: After Aemond discards you like you're nothing more than a "convenient hole to fuck" (according to his words). Who better to make him jealous than his own older brother?

Warnings: SMUT 18+; rough sex; name calling (slut etc...); jealous Aemond; choking; LOUD af sex; alcohol consumption; angst (like a lil); slight Aemond x reaader (?); mentions of infidelity (Aemond)

Words: 8k

Notes: I'm not responsible for the media YOU consume.

Aemond Targaryen deserved to suffer. That was the only thought running through your head as you lived your day-to-day life. Even as weeks passed, the anger and bitterness inside you only grew stronger and stronger.

You wanted to pay him back, not just out of a sense of vengeance but because you felt it was necessary. He was older than you, and to be honest, he seemed to not even have any feelings that could be hurt.

But that didn’t matter; it wasn’t just about him. Hurting him would mean hurting your sister, the one person you cared about more than anyone else. You couldn’t let her find out what you had done—how you had betrayed her trust and broken the bond that held you together. The weight of your secret pressed heavily on your chest, filling you with a mix of guilt and fear.

He seemed to be doing well enough though, pretending that everything was fine. Looking at your sister with love in his eye, telling her sweet nothings. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, that pretentious jerk. With that same mouth, he had kissed you like he never even loved your sister.

Maybe you just needed another body to warm your bed to get over him, to forget all about that one-eyed freak and move on with your life. You had better things to do, truthfully.

Aemond catches your eye and flashes you a smirk, a knowing glint in his depths. He knows exactly what you're thinking, and can see the anger simmering beneath the surface. He thinks he's won, that he has you right where he wants you - desperate, bitter, and powerless.

Your sister, bless her naive heart, is completely oblivious to the tension between you. She chatters on about her day, laughing at Aemond's witty remarks, oblivious to the fact that the man she loves has been balls deep in her sister mere days ago.

Aemond reaches over, squeezing her hand affectionately. "Darling, you look radiant tonight. The most beautiful woman in the room, as always," he purrs, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

Your sister blushes, preening under his praise. If only she knew the real reason behind his smooth words and charming demeanour. The way he used to call you his 'dirty little secret', his 'convenient hole' to fuck when he needed release.

You feel the bile rise in your throat at the memory, your anger boiling over. You need to get away from him, from the sickening sight of him pretending to be the perfect boyfriend.

Suddenly, you stand up abruptly, the chair screeching loudly against the floor. Your sister looks at you in surprise, concern etched on her face.

"Sweetie? Are you alright?" she asks, noticing your pale complexion and the way your hands shake slightly.

"Yeah, listen I gotta go. Baela just texted she's having some people over at her place tonight. We're gonna pregame there and then hit up this new club downtown. Don't wait up, alright?" You say distractedly, already rising from your seat and grabbing your phone.

You shoot a quick smirk in Aemond's direction, just to let him know this is your way of getting back at him. Two can play his games.

"I'll be Quiet...I hope," you add with a wry smile, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you saunter off towards your bedroom. You make sure to put an extra sway in your hips as you walk away, just so he can get a good long look at your best asset in this tight skirt. 

You slip into your room and begin to get ready quickly, shimmying into the slinky black dress you bought on sale last week. You admire yourself in the mirror, confident and sexy, ready to take on the night and forget all about your sister'slying, cheating, manipulating bastard of a boyfriend.

Let Aemond jerk off to thoughts of you tonight, the dirty bastard. Probably will anyway, even if you're not there, you muse with a smirk, slipping on your silver kitten heels and grabbing your purse.

Aemond watches, his gaze lingering on the sway of your hips as you strut out of the room. He feels a flicker of annoyance at your snide remark, the obvious attempt at getting under his skin. Two can indeed play this game.

He turns to your sister, flashing her a disarming smile. "Ignore her," he says dismissively, waving a hand in the direction you disappeared. "You know how unpredictable your sister can be sometimes."

Your sister frowns slightly, a hint of worry in her eyes. "I just hope she's not getting mixed up with the wrong crowd again," she muses, biting her lower lip in concern.

Aemond laughs, a rich, deep sound that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't worry about it, my love. I'm sure she knows what she's doing." At least, he hopes she doesn't know what she's in for tonight. The thought of you stumbling home drunk and throwing yourself at some random guy causes an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. He quickly pushes the thought away, focusing instead on your sister's lovely face.

The events of the night are hazy, interspersed with flashes of strobing lights, pounding music and the warmth of too many bodies pressed together on the dance floor. You recall Jace shouting something about an Uber, but the details are lost in a haze of alcohol and adrenaline.

Somewhere between the club entrance and the bar, you found yourself getting dragged to the floor by a drunk and overeager Rhaena. Before you could protest, her hands were already gripping your hips as she pulled you back against her. You began to shamelessly dance with her, practically grinding against her on the dancefloor.

Aemond slipped further from your thoughts with each pulsing heartbeat radiating from the speakers. For a blissful, drifting moment, everything else faded away - the betrayal, the anger, the heartache. It was just Rhaena, the thumping music, and the heady, almost electric atmosphere.

You could feel the eyes of strangers on you, but in the darkness and the buzz of the crowd, you didn't care. You let the music take over, let it consume you and make you feel alive.

Rhaena grins drunkenly at you as she grinds against you on the crowded dance floor, her hands gripping your hips tightly. "Woo! You're so hot!" Rhaena shouts over the pounding music, her words slightly slurred. She's a few drinks in, her inhibitions lowered.

Baela bounces up to you both, her silver hair swishing wildly as she moves to the music. She's wearing a tight, shimmering mini dress that shows off her toned dancer's body. "Girl, we need shots!" Baela yells over the pounding beat, her eyes sparkling with excitement and a bit of intoxication.

Jace, never one to miss out on a drinking opportunity, nods eagerly. He's been eyeing the bar, ready for the next round. Cregan just smirks, his gaze flickering between you, Baela and Rhaena. The strobing lights of the club illuminate his chiselled features and the mischievous glint in his eyes as he watches the two beautiful women grind together.

You flash Cregan a coquettish smile, playfully biting your finger as you catch his heated gaze. Wiggling your eyebrows teasingly, you let out a tinkling giggle, enjoying the blatant admiration in his eyes. The strobing lights of the club dance across your beautiful features.

Cregan watches, transfixed by your playful antics with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes rove appreciatively over your curves, lingering on the way your dress rides up your thighs as you dance. He takes a swig of his beer, never taking his heated gaze off you.

You lean in close to Baela, shouting over the deafening music and the chatter of the crowd. "Ooh, let's do tequila shots!" you suggest, your voice lilting and eager. "No, wait, vodka! Neat, no lime or salt!" Jace argues, his own words slightly slurred.

Rhaena giggles drunkenly at your shot suggestion, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Tequila it is!" she agrees enthusiastically, already pulling you off the dance floor towards the bar. Baela and Jace follow close behind, with Jace hollering out to the bartender.

As you reach the bar, Rhaena leans in close, her alcohol-laced breath hot against your ear. "You're such a tease," she accuses playfully, jerking her chin towards where Cregan is watching you with blatant appreciation. "The poor guy looks like he wants to devour you whole."

Baela chimes in, grinning widely as the bartender lines up the shots. "I don't blame him. Look at you, working that dress like it's your job." She winks at you, her own dress riding dangerously high on her thighs as she leans against the bar.

Jace slides the shots towards you both, his own eyes a bit glazed over from drinking. "Alright ladies, bottoms up!" he cheers, already tossing his shot back.

You toss back the tequila shot, feeling the burn of the alcohol slide down your throat and warm your belly. As you set the glass down, you catch a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of your eye. Your heart seizes in panic for a moment, fearing it might be him. But as you turn to look, you realize it's not Aemond, but his older brother, Aegon.

Relief floods through you as you meet Aegon's gaze, his smile widening in recognition. You can't help but smile back, giving him a little wave. Aegon is handsome, like all the Targaryen men, but he doesn't have the same intense, almost frightening charisma as his younger brother.

Aegon returns your smile, his grin widening as he notices your relieved expression. He's always found you charming. Not to mention the way that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. He saunters over, the crowd parting easily for the handsome man.

"Aemond's girlfriend's little sister," Aegon greets, his voice a low rumble over the pounding music. "Looking as lovely as ever. What brings a pretty thing like you out tonight?" He leans against the bar beside you, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your form.

Aegon is no stranger to the effect he has on women. With his golden hair, piercing eyes, and the strong, muscular build that comes with being a Targaryen, he's used to turning heads. But there's a warmth to his demeanour that Aemond lacks, a kindness in his eyes that makes people feel at ease in his presence.

He watches as Rhaena, Baela and Jace chat and laugh, already a bit tipsy. His gaze flickers back to you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. 

You lean back against the bar, casually crossing your legs as you eye up Aegon with a smirk. "Aegon, these are my friends - Baela, Rhaena, Jace and Cregan," you say loudly enough to be heard over the blaring music. You gesture to each of them in turn, noting how Baela openly checks out Aegon's handsome features while Rhaena leans in to whisper something giggling to Jace, no doubt an impressed comment about your sister's 'brother-in-law's' looks.

Turning back to Aegon, you let your gaze shamelessly wander over his muscular frame, taking in the way his tailored shirt stretches across his broad shoulders and the way his dress pants hug his lean waist. "This is Aegon, my sister's boyfriend's older brother," you introduce him with a naughty lilt to your voice.

Aegon knows he's being checked out, and he takes your brazen appraisal as an invitation to do the same. His eyes slowly travel the length of your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, and the way the skirt of your dress rides up your thigh.

"A pleasure to meet you all," he says smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement. He turns back to you, his gaze intense and appraising. "And an even greater pleasure to see you again. You look absolutely stunning," he adds, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone.

Aegon flags down the bartender, ordering another round of tequila shots for everyone. "Drinks are on me tonight," he declares, sliding the shots towards you and your friends with a wink.

As the night goes on, Aegon stays close by your side, his hand either resting on the small of your back or holding yours possessively as you dance. He makes it clear he finds you captivating, desirable even. His flirtations grow bolder with each drink, his body pressing closer to yours as the crowd jostles around you both on the dance floor.

You grin as Aegon's hands boldly explore your curves while you move to the beat, a shiver running down your spine as you feel his arousal pressing insistently against your backside. You spin around to face him with a coy smile.

His eyes darken with lust as they meet yours, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks. You lean in close, your voice breathy as you tease, "Careful Aegon, don't get too excited now."

You punctuate your words with a playful swat to his muscular chest, feeling his firm muscle beneath your palm. Glancing over at Baela and Rhaena, you see them watching your exchange with curious eyes and understanding grins.

You roll your eyes at them playfully before turning your attention back to the Blue-Eyed Adonis before you.

Aegon chuckles lowly at your flirtatious teasing, not put off in the least. If anything, your coy smile and the way your hand lingers on his chest only ignite the desire smouldering in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm already far too excited," he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand slides lower, coming to rest on the curve of your ass. He squeezes the supple flesh, pulling you more firmly against him so you can feel the hard press of his arousal.

"I could take you right here if I wanted to. Bend you over the bar and fuck you until you scream my name."

His lips brush against your ear, sending tingles down your spine. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the sheer masculine power of him. Part of you wants to give in, to let him have his way with you right here in the middle of the crowded club. But a bigger part of you wants to make him work for it, to tease and torture him.

Your eyes glint with mischief as you meet his heated gaze. "Is that a promise or a threat?" you ask, a kittenish smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

Aegon leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks. "Perhaps we should get out of here and find somewhere... more private," he suggests, his tone leaving no doubt about his intentions.

He glances over at Baela and Rhaena, who are not-so-subtly looking and mouthing 'holy shit' at you. Aegon smirks, clearly amused by their reaction.

Turning his attention back to you, Aegon reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to caress your cheek. "What do you say, little one? Ready to get out of here and have some real fun?" he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your lower lip teasingly.

You lean in close, your lips brushing against Aegon's ear as you whisper sultrily, "I've been hoping you'd say something like that all night."

Your fingertips dance along his chiselled jawline before giving his earlobe a playful nip, tugging lightly. "My bed sound good enough for you?"

You press your body flush against his, letting him feel every curve and contour. "Tonight, you can do whatever you want with me~" you breathe. Your hand boldly cups the prominent bulge in his tailored trousers, giving it a teasing squeeze.

"Unless you'd rather stay and give my friends here a real show," you add with a coquettish wink at Baela and Jace, who watch your heated exchange with avid fascination.

His eyes darken with lust and he inhales sharply, the prominent bulge in his trousers twitching under your bold touch. He’s already imagining all the things he wants to do to your lush body, the ways he wants to make you scream and beg for more.

Aegon's lips curve into a wicked grin at your teasing offer to give your friends a show. "Tempting," he murmurs, one hand sliding down to grope your ass roughly. "I'd love to fuck you in front of an audience." His other hand tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. "But I want you all to myself tonight," he growls. "I'm going to take you home and use this sexy little body of yours in ways you've never been used before."

"Enough to drink? I'm ready to go whenever you are," he says, getting restless by now.

"Come on then," you purr, smirking up at Aegon with a wink. "Call the cab, I'm ready to go."

You blow kisses goodbye to Baela and Rhaena, giggling mischievously as you start leading Aegon out of the crowded club, your hips swaying with each step. The anticipation of the night ahead makes your heart flutter with excitement.

Aegon smirks as you lead the way out of the club, his eyes glued to your backside. He keeps a possessive hand on your lower back as he guides you out into the cool night air. The cab arrives quickly, and Aegon opens the door for you, allowing you to slip inside before sliding in beside you.

As the cab pulls away from the curb, Aegon's hand finds your thigh, his fingers. He starts to slowly slide his hand up your thigh, inching closer and closer to your centre. "Can't keep my hands off you," he murmurs, leaning in close. "You have no idea how much I want you."

Aegon's lips find your neck, placing hot kisses along the sensitive skin. His hand creeps higher, pushing the hem of your dress up as his fingers brush against your lace panties. He can feel the damp heat emanating from your core, making him let out a whine against your neck.

His eyes flash with lust as they meet yours in the darkness of the cab. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards his. "I can't wait to get my hands on you," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, promise-filled kiss.

You can't help but shiver with anticipation, your body already aching for his touch. You know this is going to be a chance to get revenge on your sister's lying boyfriend in the most delicious way possible.

The cab rolls to a smooth halt outside the familiar apartment building, the sudden stillness a stark contrast to the pulsing energy of the club. You gather your clutch and step out onto the pavement, one shapely leg at a time.

Aegon emerges a moment later from the cab with an air of casual confidence. He places a hand on the small of your back as you walk towards the entrance, his touch igniting sparks beneath the thin fabric of your dress.

As you approach the door, you pull ahead slightly, fishing your keys from your purse. With a coy smile, you glance back over your shoulder at Aegon. "You don't have to wait a moment longer," you whisper, the night air cool against your flushed cheeks.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you slip the key into the lock, a thrill of excitement and nerves coursing through you. Over your shoulder, you see the hunger in Aegon's eyes, the way they drink in every inch of your form in the dim light of the entryway. You know he wants you, and the knowledge sends heat coursing through your body.

Biting your lip softly, you step inside, holding the door open and letting Aegon follow you in.

Aegon follows you inside, his eyes never leaving your swaying hips and the tantalizing view of your ass. As soon as he’s through the door, he kicks it shut behind him and immediately pulls you flush against his hard chest. "I don't want to wait another moment," he murmurs hotly, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he walks you backwards towards your bedroom.

His lips find yours in a searing, passionate kiss. It's a kiss full of pent-up desire and hunger, a kiss that speaks to just how much he wants you. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours and exploring every inch of you. He tastes like tequila and sin, and you can't get enough.

Aegon's hands roam your curves greedily as he walks you to your room. He squeezes the globes of your ass, pulling you harder against the prominent bulge in his trousers. His fingers dipped under the hem of your dress, teasing the soft skin of your thighs. He wants to touch and feel every inch of you.

Breaking the kiss, Aegon tugs you into your bedroom, his eyes burning into yours. He looks around your room, taking in the feminine space before his gaze lands back on you. A wicked grin spreads across his face as his eyes rake over your body, drinking in the sight of you.

Without warning, Aegon reaches out and grabs you, pulling you back against his hard chest. He kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his hands grip your hips. He wants to mark you, to claim you, to make you his. He wants to fuck you until you forget your name and only remember his.

Aemond tosses and turns in bed, his mind a whirlwind of twisted thoughts and dark imaginings of you. He can't get the image of your scantily clad body grinding against another out of his head, no matter how hard he tries.

His hand moves faster over his aching cock, stroking himself with hard, punishing grips. He pictures you pinned against the wall of the club's bathroom, your dress hiked up around your waist as some nameless man pounds into you from behind. The thought makes him groan, his hips bucking up into his fist.

Just as Aemond nears the edge, he hears the front door slam open downstairs. He freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he wonders if it's you stumbling home, drunk and reeking of sex and another man's cologne.

Your sister bursts into the bedroom, fresh out of the shower. "Did you hear the door? Looks like she's finally home...." she starts to say, before noticing Aemond's state of undress and the obvious bulge in the sheets. He exhales heavily, his cock softening slightly at the interruption.

"Oh!" she gasps, a pretty blush spreading across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I just thought..." She trails off, biting her lip as she takes in the sight of her boyfriend stroking his impressive erection.

Aemond forces a smile, trying to hide his lingering distraction and frustration. "It's alright, love," he says smoothly. "I think your sister just got back from her little night out. Probably passed out somewhere."

He hopes you're okay because right now, he's in no state to go check on you. Not with his cock still throbbing and his mind full of depraved thoughts.

Aegon's eyes darken with lust as you slip out of your tight dress, the fabric pooling around your feet and leaving you in nothing but a lacy black lingerie set. Your hardened nipples peeking through the delicate material. A thin strip of lace runs between your legs, barely covering your most intimate area.

You step forward as your fingers start to slowly unbutton his shirt. You lean in close, your soft lips brushing against his neck as you whisper sultrily, "You like what you see?"

Your voice is a breathy purr, dripping with seductive promise. You place teasing little kisses along his neck and jaw, feeling his pulse jump beneath your lips. Making Aegon's head fall back, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

Aegon's breathing grows heavier as his eyes rake over your nearly nude form, taking in every inch of exposed skin and curves. The black lace of your lingerie leaves little to the imagination, and he can see the way your nipples strain against the delicate material. His cock throbs almost painfully in his trousers, aching to be buried inside your tight heat.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," Aegon growls, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. He can feel every inch of your body pressed against his, and it ignites a hunger in him that he can barely control.

As you slip the shirt off completely, your hands roam over his muscular torso, exploring the hard planes and ridges. You walk your fingers up his chest, feeling his abs flex beneath your touch. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a deep, sensual kiss, your tongue teasing the seam of his mouth.

"I want you so badly Aegon," you murmur against his lips, your voice ragged with desire. Your hands slide down to his belt, starting to undo it with nimble fingers. "I need you to fuck me, right here, right now. I want you to claim me, make me yours."

In one swift movement, Aegon sweeps you up into his strong arms, carrying you over to the bed. He tosses you down onto the mattress, crawling over you with a wicked grin. "Keep begging for my cock like the needy little slut you are," he commands, his fingers hooking into the delicate lace of your panties. With a sharp tug, he tears your panties off with a rough tug, the flimsy lace giving way easily to his strength.

He tosses the ruined garment aside, leaving you bare and exposed before him. His eyes drink in the sight of your glistening pussy, already dripping with arousal.

"Look at this pretty cunt, so wet and ready for my cock," Aegon growls, his fingers brushing teasingly along your slick folds. He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, feeling it throb under his touch. "You're fucking drenched, you filthy girl. Are you really this fucking needy?"

Aegon makes quick work of his belt and trousers, shoving them down his thighs along with his boxers. His thick, hard cock springs free, the swollen head already leaking with desire. He strokes himself a few times, smearing the bead of pre-cum down his impressive length.

Crawling back over you, Aegon settles between your spread thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance. He teases you with shallow thrusts, letting you feel how big and hard he is, how much he wants to split you open.

"Beg for it," Aegon demands, his voice a low, dominant rumble.

"Oh god, Aegon..." you moan, your head lolling back against the pillow as you feel his thick cockhead teasing your aching, soaked folds. "Please, I can't take it anymore! I've been dripping for you all night, from the moment we started dancing together at the club."

You lock your eyes with his, desperation and lust swirling in their depths. "I already wanted you to bend me over the bathroom counter and fuck me hard like a nasty slut," you confess shamelessly, your cheeks flushed with arousal and a hint of embarrassment at your brazen words. "I've been imagining how amazing your huge cock would feel splitting me open, filling and stretching me."

You spread your thighs even wider, putting yourself on a lewd display. "Please Aegon, I'm begging you," you whimper, your voice dripping with need. "Use me like the desperate, cock-hungry slut I am." Your voice grew louder and louder, already forgetting that just in the other room your sister and Aemond were probably sleeping.

Aemond's eye snaps open as your desperate pleas ring out, your voice echoing through the apartment. He can hear every word, from the lustful moans to the shameless begging for his cock. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he listens to you reduced to a wanton mess, so consumed by desire that you've forgotten all sense of volume control.

Beside him, your sister jolts up, blinking in confusion. She looks towards the door, her brows furrowing as she hears the obscene noises spilling from your room. "What the fuck?" she mutters.

Aemond grabs her wrist, stopping her. "Don't," he says shortly, his voice strained. He shakes his head when she opens her mouth to protest, silencing her with a sharp jerk of his chin towards the door. "Listen," he says quietly.

Together, they sit in tense silence, your sister's eyes widening as she realizes what she's hearing. Aegon is pounding into you hard enough to rock the bed against the wall, the headboard slamming rhythmically. His hips are smacking loudly against your ass, punctuating every powerful thrust. The room is filled with the vulgar sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and your cries of ecstasy.

Aegon is wrecking your pussy, claiming it with ruthless strokes of his thick cock. He's thrusting into you so hard that the bed creaks and groans in protest. The sounds of your pleasure fill the apartment, leaving no question as to what'shappening in your bedroom. Aegon is so deep inside you, stretching you wide around his girth, just as you begged him to do.

Aemond sits rigidly on the bed, jaw clenched and hands fisted in the sheets as your shameless moans and the sounds of carnality fill the air. His heart pounds violently against his ribs, a wild mix of anger, disgust, and a sickening twist of arousal coursing through him. The lecherous symphony of your coupling assaults his ears, each lewd noise a dagger twisting in his gut. 

Aegon's hips piston relentlessly against yours, the force of his thrusts rocking the bed frame against the wall with a rhythmic thud. Slick, obscene squelches and the vulgar slap of flesh against flesh echo through the apartment, punctuated by your whorish cries for more, for harder, begging to be used like the desperate cock-hungry slut you apparently are. 

Your sister's face pales as the reality of the situation sinks in, her eyes wide with shock. She stares at Aemond as if waiting for an explanation. But Aemond remains still, his expression grim, unable to meet her horrified gaze. 

He's never felt such an overwhelming surge of rage, revulsion, and perverse, twisted jealousy. Hearing you degrade yourself for another man, screaming in ecstasy, begging to be used...it's unforgivable. It makes his blood boil and his cock throb in a way it shouldn't, given the circumstances.

Aegon is ruining you, claiming you, fucking you with a ruthless, punishing intensity. And from the sounds of it, you'reloving every second of it. 

Your sister finally finds her voice. "Oh wow... I didn't think my sister liked it this rough..."

Aegon snarls, his hips pounding into yours with brutal force as your begging drives him wild with lust. He hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he looms over you, his muscular frame caging you in. The new angle lets him plunge even deeper, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your ass with every savage thrust.

Your slick walls clench and flutter around his pistoning cock, gripping him like a vice. The obscene squelch of your juices fills the room, mixing with the erotic slap of skin against skin and your wanton cries. Aegon's eyes are wild, blazing with possessive hunger as he ruthlessly claims your body, using you like the cock-starved slut you are.

"That's it, take my fucking cock," Aegon growls, one hand fisting in your hair as he pounds into you. "This is what you wanted. To be split open on another man's dick, used like a filthy little fuck toy?" 

He leans down and crushes his mouth to yours, swallowing your screams of ecstasy. His tongue plunders your mouth, dominating you completely. All the while, he never slows the brutal pace of his thrusts, each one striking that perfect spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

"Ohhhh f-fuuuuck, yesss!" You wailed, your voice cracking with raw pleasure as Aegon's massive cock pummeled your cervix with ruthless precision. Tears of pure ecstasy streamed down your cheeks, your hair splayed wildly across the pillow. "Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyou!" You chanted deliriously, too lost in sensation to form coherent words.

Your back arched sharply, pressing your tits against Aegon's chiselled chest as you clenched around him. "H-harder," you whimpered desperately, your eyes rolling back in your head as you surrendered completely to the brutal pleasure radiating from your core. "Please, I n-need...I need..." you trailed off, unable to even articulate what you craved, your mind shattered by the relentless, mind-numbing bliss of Aegon's animalistic rutting.

The obscene squelch of your dripping cunt taking his merciless pounding filled your ears, punctuated by the slam of flesh against flesh and your escalating wails of ecstasy.

"You want it harder?" Aegon taunts, his voice a low, dark rumble. "You want me to destroy this greedy cunt?" Without waiting for a response, he leans down as he looms over you with your legs still on his shoulders. The new angle lets him plunge even deeper, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your ass with every savage thrust.

Your pussy is drenched, soaking his cock and dripping down onto the sheets beneath you.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tightly," Aegon growls, his eyes wild with primal hunger as he stares down at your pleasure-drunk face. "Such a good little cock sleeve, taking me so well." He captures your mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as he continues to pound into you with ruthless intensity.

His hand moves from your hair to your throat, wrapping around it possessively as he squeezes slightly. He can feel your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his fingers, matching the erratic beat of his own heart. Aegon knows he's taking you to the brink of what you can handle, pushing you to the very edge of your limits.

Aegon snarls like a wild beast as he feels your pussy spasm and clench around him, gripping his cock. Your desperate, incoherent cries and the way you arch your back, presenting your perfect tits to him, only fuel his lust. He wants to ruin you, to fuck you so hard that you'll be ruined for any other man.

Aemond sits frozen as your screams of bliss and the lewd sounds of your coupling flood the apartment. It's like a punch to the gut, hearing the woman he actually wants debasing herself on another man's cock, begging to be used harder. The obscene noises fill him with sickening jealousy and a twisted, shameful arousal he can't deny.

Your sister stares at Aemond in shock, her mouth agape. "Is she...is she okay? That sounds rough..." She looks towards the door.

Aemond jolts as if electrified when he finally registers the name falling from your lips in ecstasy over and over again. His heart stops, a cold sweat breaking out over his skin as the horrible realization crashes over him like a bucket of icy water.

White-hot rage explodes through Aemond's veins, his vision flaring red at the edges. Aegon, his own brother, is violating his girlfriend's little sister in the most degrading way possible. Using her like a cheap fucktoy, pounding into her so hard that the whole apartment knows what a filthy slut she is for him.

Aegon.

Aegon is the one fucking you. Aegon is the one ruining you. Aegon is the one claiming your body in the most primal way imaginable.

Aegon's name falls from your lips like a prayer, a mantra repeated with every devastating thrust. "Aegon, Aegon, Aegon!" You scream, your back bowing off the bed as he fucks you into the mattress with ruthless intensity. The bed creaks and groans under the force of his lovemaking, the headboard slamming against the wall with every snap of his hips.

Your sister looks at Aemond with wide, horrified eyes. "That's...that's your brother, isn't it?" she asks breathlessly. "Your brother is - is he really fucking my sister like that?"

Aemond's jaw clenches, his hands fisting in the sheets as he nods numbly. His mind is reeling, a vicious storm of jealous rage and unwanted, twisted arousal swirling inside him. He can't believe it. He can't believe out of all the guys in the club you could've brought home, you're letting his older brother fuck you stupid.

Your fingers fly to your clit as Aegon squeezes your throat, making your world explode into a million pieces.

"Fuck! I fucking love your huge cock so much," you wail shamelessly, too lost in ecstasy to care how utterly slutty you sound. Tears stream down your flushed cheeks as you feel Aegon throbbing deep inside, splitting you open so perfectly. His smirk above you only pushes you closer to the edge.

"I-I can feel you, Aegon..." you sob, your pussy clenching and spasming uncontrollably around his pistoning length. "I can feel you in my fucking guts, holy shit!" Your eyes, hazy with lust, can barely focus on Aegon's handsome face as you cry from pleasure.

Aemond feels like he's been punched in the stomach, the air leaving his lungs in a brutal whoosh. Rage, jealousy, and a sick sense of lust churn violently inside him as he listens to you screaming his brother's name, begging for more as Aegon abuses your pussy.

His brother. His fucking brother Aegon is the one splitting you open, claiming your body with ruthless, animalistic fucking. The bed creaks and groans, the headboard slamming against the wall with every devastating thrust. Aegon must be pounding into you with enough force to leave bruises, fucking you like the desperate, cock-starved slut you've become.

The whole fucking apartment knows now what a whore you are for his brother. The way you're screaming, the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh...you're not even trying to be quiet.

Not to mention the fucking tears. You're crying from pleasure, sobbing his brother's name like your life depends on it.

"You fucking love it, don't you?" Aegon snarls above you, his hand tightening around your throat. "Love the way my cock is splitting you open, reshaping this hungry cunt to fit me like a glove?" He leans down and captures your mouth in a brutal kiss

Aegon grins wickedly as he feels your pussy clamp down on his cock like a silken vice, gripping him rhythmically as you cum hard. "That's it, cum on this fucking cock," he snarls, his hips never slowing their brutal pace. "I want to feel this slutty little cunt milking me dry."

His intense gaze locks with yours, his eyes burning into your soul as your world shatters around you. You shake and convulse beneath him, a silent scream ripping from your raw throat as your climax crashes through you like a tidal wave of ecstasy. Tears stream freely down your cheeks.

Your wide, glazed eyes stare up at Aegon in helpless, mindless rapture, seeing nothing but him. You're utterly lost, drowning in the overwhelming pleasure that's consuming your every sense and thought. You can't speak, can't form a single coherent word or syllable as your trembling body surrenders completely to the exquisite agony of your release.

You can only feel - the scorching heat of Aegon's skin, the slick, obscene slide of his thick cock pounding into your fluttering, grasping pussy, the way your ass jiggles and bounces with every relentless thrust. Your breasts heave and strain beneath him, your nipples grazing his chest with each devastating surge of his hips.

Aegon doesn't let up, fucking you straight through your climax with ruthless intensity. He's merciless, pounding into your spasming cunt like a man possessed, forcing you to take every thick, throbbing inch of him. The sensation of his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your ass with each thrust only prolongs the mind-melting ecstasy.

You're just a vessel for his pleasure now, a set of holes for him to use and ruin as he sees fit. Your body is no longer your own as you writhe and thrash beneath him.

Aegon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he growls filthy words. "Fuck, look at you. Coming apart so beautifully on my cock. You were made for this, made to be fucked stupid and used for my pleasure."

He pistons his hips at a brutal pace, the obscene slap of skin against skin echoing through the room. Aegon is fucking you right through your climax, not letting you come down from your high at all. Each thrust rocks the bed frame, the headboard slamming against the wall with enough force to leave a dent.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum," Aegon snarls against your throat, his thrusts becoming erratic and uncontrolled. "I'm going to fucking fill this hungry little hole. You want that, don't you? Want me to pump you full?"

With a roar, Aegon buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock jerking and pulsing as he finds his release. He grinds his pelvis hard against yours, making sure you can feel every hot, thick spurt of his cum painting your insides.

Aemond lunges to his feet, a snarl ripping from his throat as he starts to storm towards the door. His girlfriend jumps up and grabs his arm, stopping him cold. She stares at him with wide, shocked eyes, her face pale and stricken.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demands, her voice shaking. "They're literally having sex in there! Does it really bother you that much, hearing them..." She trails off, biting her lip as another lewd shriek echoes from your room, followed by the crude slap of flesh against flesh and the rhythmic creaking of the bed.

Aemond's jaw clenches, his eyes flashing with a chaotic mix of rage and jealous lust. "Yeah, it does," he grits out, his voice low and dark. "You're my girlfriend, not her. I should be able to fuck you harder and make you scream louder, not listen to my brother ruin the little slut."

He shakes his head, his expression grim and unforgiving. "I can't stand the thought of Aegon touching her, tasting her..." He squeezes his eyes shut, the obscene sounds still filling his ears. 

Aemond's hands clench into fists at his sides, his whole body trembling with barely restrained fury and a sick, twisted arousal he can't comprehend. He's never felt so violently possessive before, so consumed by jealous rage.

His girlfriend looks at him with a mix of anger and betrayal in her eyes. "Well get over it, 'cause it's happening. Your brother is the one fucking her stupid, not you," she points out coldly. "Maybe if you treated me half as good as he's treating her..." she trails off bitterly.

"A-Aegon... I can feel you, oh god, I can feel you pumping me so full..." Your voice is breathy and weak, your body trembling as you feel Aegon's hot, thick seed flooding your insides. "Mmmnh... it's so much, I can feel it leaking out..." You bite your lower lip, a shaky moan escaping you as the rivulets of his cum start to seep out from where you're still intimately connected.

"Thank you... for ruining me..." You gaze up at him with hazy, adoring eyes, your hair splayed messily across the pillow, your cheeks flushed and dewy. "Mmm... I feel like I'm your personal cum dump now." You clench your walls around him and giggle, trying to milk out every last drop of his release.

"I love feeling your cum leaking out of my fucked hole... I'm so happy I let you use me like this." A soft, dazed smile plays on your lips as you savour the intimate feeling of your bodies remaining joined. "I've never felt so full."

Aegon's expression softens as he looks down at your dazed, blissed-out face. He brushes a few strands of hair from your forehead, tucking them gently behind your ear. "You did so well, taking my cock like that," he murmurs, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I've never felt anyone as tight as you before."

He leans down and presses a surprisingly tender kiss to your lips, his other hand sliding down to squeeze your ass possessively. "Look at you, covered in sweat and my cum," Aegon says with a smirk, trailing his fingers through the mess leaking from between your legs. "I've marked you as mine now."

Aegon carefully scoops you up into his strong arms, cradling you against his bare chest as he maneuvers you both to lay on your sides. He pulls the blanket up over your naked, trembling body, tucking you in like a precious treasure. "Get some rest," he orders softly, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "You earned it after that performance."

Aegon holds you close, letting you bask in the afterglow of your intense coupling. His heartbeat is slow and steady beneath your ear, a soothing rhythm that lulls you into a state of tranquillity.

Outside the bedroom, Aemond is still arguing with his girlfriend, his expression dark and stormy. He's pacing back and forth, his fists clenched at his sides as the sounds of you and Aegon's coupling still fill the air.

"Why can't you just let it go?!" his girlfriend argues, her voice rising. "Your brother is in there fucking my sister into a coma! Who cares?! She's an adult!"

Aemond whirls on her, his eyes flashing. "Of course I fucking care!" he snarls. "I'm just - I can't believe she'd let him do that to her. In your shared fucking apartment." He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, his jaw clenching.

Aemond's girlfriend glares at him, her eyes flashing with anger and betrayal. "Oh, you mean like how you haven't fucked me into a coma in months?!" she snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've seen the way you look at her, Aemond. Like she's some prized piece of ass you wish was yours."

Aemond recoils as if slapped, his face paling. "That's not - I would never…" he starts to protest, but she cuts him off with a bitter laugh.

"Save it," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You think I haven't noticed? The way your eyes follow her every move, the little glances you sneak when you think I'm not looking." She steps closer to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Face it, Aemond. You want to fuck your own girlfriend's little sister. You're just pissed it's Aegon doing it instead of you."

Aemond's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he glares down at her. "Watch your fucking mouth," he grits out, his voice low and dangerous. "That's not - I'm not - " He breaks off, gripping the back of his neck as he turns away from her.

His girlfriend laughs again, a harsh, grating sound. "You can't even deny it," she points out coldly. "You're jealous that Aegon is the one fucking her, not you. Well, get over it. She's not your property, Aemond. She can fuck whoever she wants."

With that, she turns on her heel and storms off towards the kitchen, leaving Aemond alone in the bedroom. He stands there for a long moment, his chest heaving with angry breaths as he tries to collect himself.

You peek up at Aegon through your lashes, a playful smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips as you hear the muffled shouts and a female voice rising in anger in the other room. You nestle closer to Aegon's warm, muscular body, relishing in the intimate feeling of your sweat-slicked skin still pressed together.

"Mmm, by the way, I think your brother's out there losing his mind," you murmur, tracing idle patterns on Aegon's chest with your fingertip. You giggle softly. "Poor thing seems pretty worked up about you defiling the 'precious little princess', hmm?" You tease, your voice breathy and low.

Aegon chuckles, a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face as he hears the muffled shouts and angry voices coming from the other room. "Sounds like he's in quite a state," he remarks casually, seemingly unfazed by the drama unfolding outside the bedroom door.

He rolls onto his side, facing you with a smirk playing on his lips. "Poor, dear Aemond," Aegon mocks, his voice dripping with disdain. "Probably wishing it was his cock splitting you open instead of mine."

Aegon reaches out, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes burn into yours, intense and possessive. "Let him be jealous," he growls. "You're mine now, not his. I'll make sure of that."

With that declaration, Aegon crushes his lips against yours in a searing, dominating kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth with a fierce hunger. It's clear he has no intention of letting his brother have you, no matter how much Aemond might want it.

[tooturtly]

Just so ppl know it does get better! I didn’t really have friends from ages 13-18, and even before then I always felt a little different (gay and neurodivergent). And yeah, it sucked. I thought I was doing everything right. I talked to people in class, I did extracurriculars, I was involved. But nobody was texting me unless it was about something school related. I wasn’t invited to anybody’s house. Twice the people I ate lunch with made homecoming plans but never invited me, I just showed up bc of how much they talked about it.

It finally took seeing the group of people I thought were my friends really overtly reject an openly neurodivergent guy from the friend group. Why? Because he talked too much, he was too sincere. It wasn’t any fault of his own. When I hung out with him in a smaller group, I had a blast. And I realized it wasn’t his fault or mine, but the people who I didn’t even like that much who were pushing me away. They were doing the same thing to both of us, and I should be pissed about it! (I still am, even know people change, it was still a shitty thing to do)

My senior year I finally put myself first and realized that having bad friends was worse than being alone. And I might as well be alone on my terms. I went to homecoming and prom by myself, I wore my own weird clothes and danced by myself just to have fun. I realized that going with those people had made me have less fun, because they hardly wanted to dance to the music if they didn’t know the song. I decided I was going to have fun and be my own person.

The only people I had who were friends were the older people at the game shop I went to. They were kind and patient with me when I didn’t know all the rules, and I’ve since lost touch with them but everyday I’m thankful that I had them in my life. Thank you for taking care of this weird teenager who was too loud and too pushy, and who you guided anyway! Thank you for humoring me!

And then I did find lasting friends. I graduated high school and found a group of amazing, nerdy, goofy people who I clicked with. We play D&D together, we eat together often, we share our stories, we talk and we laugh, we have inside jokes.

As I’ve gotten older I know I still have those moments. Even with my closest friends, I have doubts and anxieties about if they actually like me, if I’m a good and kind enough person to be able to sustain a friendship. Sometimes I think maybe I’m better off alone, because then any hurt I cause will only be me. I’ve never had friends before, I don’t know anything! Sometimes I think I’m too full of hurt to do anything but hurt. But I don’t trust those thoughts! My brain lies to me all the time! Those terrible twisted feelings never come from me, they come from a me that doesn’t know anything but pain and sorrow. I’m an entirely different person when the depression hits, and I’ve learned enough not to trust how I feel in those moments.

I know that I’m trying and my friends know it too. I’m not purposefully mean, I make amends when I make mistakes, which is all you can do because everyone makes mistakes. And I think about how much sadder my life would be without my support network. I would be miserable! Yeah I can do it alone, but I don’t want to! Doing it alone sucks! I love my friends! I don’t want to let them go, and they want me around. If my friends didn’t want me around, they’d tell me to pack it. Yet I’ve continued making friends, I find fun and weird people everywhere!

Fuck it, I’m gonna be me as much as I can! Life is terrible when you’re pretending to be someone else. And I’ve been lucky enough to find space irl where I can be me. If you can’t do that in person, go online, find community anywhere you can get it. I know I learned a lot from lurking online in high school.

My friends love me even though I have flaws, and I love them even though they have flaws. Including the anxiety and self doubt! Loving with flaws is human. Confidence is your armor against that self doubt. Even if it’s fake! Say fuck it and love your life, love yourself! The world is beautiful! Life is beautiful in those small moments laughing, in talking, in smiling.

Yes this is optimistic positivity! Because pessimism made me sad and being sad does not make you want to live! And I want to live. I made the choice once to live as much as I can. God’s tried to kill me twice and he has failed so far, so I will dance through life laughing.

I can still be depressed and I can still laugh! I can be lonely sometimes and still have friends! I can know that there’s always light at the end of the tunnel if I smile and greet the darkness as my friend.

On Isolation

[be4chywritez]

shot to the heart (and the nose) | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

You come home from college and Luke is smitten...maybe a little too smitten

beachy’s masterlist🐚

requests are open!

part two!

Growing up next door to the Hughes family meant one thing—hockey was a religion.

It was loud, it was competitive, and it was everywhere. If the Hughes brothers weren’t on the ice, they were playing in the driveway, tracking in mud from the lake, or tossing pucks against the garage door until Ellen threatened to take their sticks away.

And you?

You were the neighbor kid. Not quite in the mix, but not completely out of it either.

Your families were close—vacations together, barbecues in the summer, Christmas parties in the winter. You and the Hughes boys had spent years at each other’s birthday parties, running through sprinklers, roasting marshmallows, and competing over who could eat the most popsicles before Jim made you all go inside.

But if hockey was the Hughes brothers’ thing, quiet was yours.

Luke, in particular, had always been the opposite of quiet. He was the one making up rules for backyard games, the one yelling over everyone else, the one who would get so frustrated when you’d rather sit and watch than dive into the chaos.

He never bullied you for it, not in the way other kids might have, but he pushed—nudging you toward the action, insisting you could keep up, making sure you weren’t left out.

Jack and Quinn weren’t much different. Jack, the natural show-off, would always try to impress you (even if you weren’t watching), and Quinn, forever the responsible older brother, would make sure you didn’t get completely trampled by their energy.

Then, of course, you all grew up.

You spent high school buried in books and extracurriculars, aiming for an Ivy League acceptance letter. Luke spent it on the ice, chasing the NHL dream.

By senior year, your friendship had faded into nothing more than polite nods and see you at Christmas waves across the room.

And then you left for college.

Luke got drafted.

Life moved on.

Coming home after months at school was weird.

The air smelled the same, the roads felt the same, but you didn’t feel the same. Maybe it was the time away, or maybe it was the fact that being home again made you realize just how much things had changed.

The car rumbled up your street, your mom chatting about how good it is to have you back while you stared out the window.

And across the driveway, in the Hughes' kitchen, three heads turned in unison.

Jack was the first to react. He dropped his sandwich. Fully dropped it. “Holy shit.”

Quinn, still chewing, furrowed his brows. “What?”

Luke didn’t say anything, just stared.

Because there you were, climbing out of the car—same face, same features, but different.

College had done something to you. Or maybe you’d just grown into yourself.

Jack nudged Luke’s arm, grinning. “Dude. You seeing this?”

Luke was seeing it. That was the problem.

You were tan, your hair was different, your shorts were short, and fuck, had your legs always looked like that?

“Oh my god,” Quinn muttered, leaning against the counter. “Luke, close your mouth.”

Luke snapped his mouth shut, scowling. “Shut up.”

Jack just smirked. “Bet she still won’t talk to you.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

A few days later, you were walking up your driveway when you spotted Luke in his front yard.

He had his shirt on this time (unfortunately so) wearing a Team USA tee with the sleeves cut off, and ripping shots into the net with a ridiculous amount of force.

You should’ve known better.

Really, you should have known better.

Because one second, he was shooting.

And the next—

Crack.

Right to the face.

“Holy shit!”

Luke dropped his stick so fast it clattered against the pavement. In seconds, he was in front of you, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you or not.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I didn’t see you,” he rambled, eyes darting between your nose and your expression. “Are you—holy shit, you’re bleeding.”

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your face. “Luke. What the fuck.”

“I swear I didn’t see you—”

“No shit.”

Luke winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair.” He ripped his shirt off in one smooth motion, bunching it up before carefully pressing it against your nose. “Here, hold this.”

You blinked. “Did you just—”

“Sacrificed my shirt for you? Yeah.”

“Oh, so chivalrous.”

Luke huffed out a laugh, tilting your chin up slightly to examine the damage. His hands were warm, calloused from years of hockey, and being this close to him was… distracting.

His eyes flickered over your face, studying you.

“You look… different,” he murmured, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

You swallowed. “So do you.”

Luke smirked. “Yeah?”

And that was when you realized—he was still holding your chin.

And smiling at you.

And looking so unfairly good doing it.

You exhaled sharply. “Quit smiling at me.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I feel weird.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

His grin widened, slow and lazy. “Huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said easily. “Just thinking I should smile at you more often.”

You groaned, shoving his chest. “Oh my god.”

Luke just laughed, but then his expression sobered. “C’mon, let’s go inside. Mom’ll kill me if I leave you out here bleeding.”

Before Luke could even pull you up, the door to the Hughes house slammed open.

Jack and Quinn came speed-walking—borderline running—toward you, eyes bouncing between Luke, you, and the blood dripping down your face.

Jack, of course, spoke first.

“Oh my god, did Luke hit you?”

You groaned, still pressing Luke’s (formerly white) Team USA shirt to your nose. “You say that like he didn’t just slapshot a puck into my face.”

Quinn sighed, looking so unimpressed. “Jesus, Luke.”

Luke, still crouched next to you, lifted his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t see her! I was just—”

Jack cackled, pointing at Luke like he’d just won the lottery. “You obliterated her!”

“Jack,” you deadpanned. “Not helping.”

Jack waved you off. “No, no, because this is insane. You come back from college looking totally different, and the second Luke sees you, he shoots his shot—literally.”

Luke groaned, running a hand down his face. “Jack, I swear to—”

Jack ignored him. “I mean, I knew he was gonna lose it when he saw you again, but this—this is next level.”

Luke shoved him. “Can you shut up?”

Quinn, ever the responsible older brother, rolled his eyes. “Alright, let’s get her inside before she passes out in our driveway.”

Jack smirked. “Or before Luke confesses his love again.”

Luke shoved him harder.

You just sighed.

The moment you stepped into the house, the familiar warmth of the Hughes home hit you—laundry detergent, whatever Quinn had been cooking earlier, and a faint trace of hockey gear.

And then—

“Oh my god!”

Ellen practically flew down the stairs, eyes zeroing in on your face.

Jim followed behind her, frowning. “Jesus, what happened?”

Jack, still very much enjoying the situation, grinned. “Oh, you know. Luke saw her for the first time in, like, a year and immediately tried to take her out.”

Luke groaned. “That is not what happened.”

Ellen, ignoring them, cupped your face as gently as she could, careful not to touch your nose. “Sweetheart, oh my gosh! You’re hurt!”

Jack, ever the instigator, added, “She is hurt, but also—she looks amazing, right?”

Ellen’s eyes flickered over your face—well, the parts of it that weren’t covered in blood—and beamed. “Oh, honey, you are stunning! Look at you! College has done wonders for you.”

You blinked. “Uh—”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Ellen, she’s bleeding.”

Ellen waved him off. “Yes, yes, I see that, but look at how grown up she is!” She turned to Quinn. “Quinn, tell me she doesn’t look gorgeous.”

Quinn, handing Luke an ice pack, huffed out a laugh. “She does.”

Jack smirked. “Luke sure thinks so.”

Luke whipped around. “Jack, I will actually—”

Jim chuckled, finally stepping in. “Alright, El, let’s fix her up before we start matchmaking.”

Luke, still looking like he desperately wanted to disappear, guided you to the kitchen table and sat you down. “Okay, let me—uh—yeah, just—” He fumbled with the ice pack, hands slightly shaky.

You raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah. Just—quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like—” Luke exhaled sharply. “Like that.”

You smirked. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

Jack howled. Quinn raised his eyebrows.

Ellen gasped like this was the best news she had heard all day.

Jim sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

Luke groaned.

And you?

You just smiled.

It was going to be a great summer.

part two!

[minniesfiles]

{JEONGHAN} FIC RECOMMENDATIONS

ᯓ★ VOL. 1

(note; each volume has 15 fic recs)

[a] — angst│[f] — fluff │[s] — smut

❖ in another life — by @solarwonux

Soulmates come in different ways. | 3.6k [a]

❖ liar, liar pants on fire — by @number1mingyustan

Deep down you know the truth, yet you always seem to take his word for it. | 1.6k [a, s]

❖ how to give a blowjob — by @multiland

Your friendship with Jeonghan takes a turn the day the two of you cross the line when he decides to teach you how to give a blowjob, despite your promises of everything staying the same. Tired of waiting for him to acknowledge the elephant in the room, you decide to go on dates. Needless to say, he doesn't like it one bit. | 11k [f, s, a]

❖ to live again — by @viastro

It’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future? | 38.7k [a, f]

❖ daisies — by @viastro

The best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. | 10k [a, f]

❖ of rainy nights and roses — by @chenfleur

In the heat of the moment, jeonghan grows careless with his words. now, he has to bear the weight of saying things he didn't mean. | 5.8k [a, f]

❖ don’t you remember the time? — by @wonustars

Your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. In other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy. | 26.3k [a, f, s]

❖ holidate — by @onlymingyus

13k [a, f, s]

❖ jeonghan + anonymous sex — by @hoshifighting

Where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, Mr. Yoon. | ? [s]

❖ (in)visible — by @haniette

He decided to give you time, to let you feel comfortable with him and everything else. but you don’t want and need it anymore. you want to be visible. you want the two of you to be visible to the others. that you’re his and he’s yours. | 7k [a, f]

❖ behind the mask — by @starlightxsvt

Never in your wildest dreams did you think of falling for the infamous yoon jeonghan but you do, very hard, and things are now bound to get messy. | 7.1k [a, f, s]

❖ irrefutable fate — by @berriesandjunnie

There’s only so much you can do when you fall for a soul who will outlive you. | 3.3k [a]

❖ kidult — by @hcuyk

Jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too. | twoshot [f, a]

❖ amortentia — by @http-mianhae

He was the worst of worse, how could anyone love him? Such a cold-hearted kid yet you were forced to sit next to him and as a Ravenclaw, it didn’t do you justice that all Jeonghan did was throw insults and act like a total jerk. | 25.3k [f, a]

❖ candy — by @wheeboo

After moving back into the city to be closer with friends and family, you start receiving letters from an unknown sender in your mail. When curiosity gets the better of you, you decide to respond, and what begins as a simple sweet-tasting exchange soon blossoms into something more with someone you’ve never met—or so you think. But as the snow continues to fall, you find yourself confronting the bitter-tasting feelings you thought were long buried back in your youth, as well as the person who’s been hiding in plain sight all along. | 20.8k [a, f]

[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Gorp, Questionable Child Rearing, Progressive elves and some campaign lore!

As always, I apologize if your ask isn't here/ hasn't been replied to, it is unfortunately impossible for me to answer to every question I get to the extend I would like to. Occasionally I also just don't have a very interesting answer to offer 😅 and I try to avoid spamming people's feeds! But thank you so much to everyone who interacts with my stories, characters, art, and is curious about my thought process and writing! The response is frankly just as overwhelming as it is deeply appreciated, and every word of encouragement or message about how I inspired you to draw or write more of your own stories makes my day.

DU drow and Gortash had what I would describe as a "Toxic Friendship". They got along well enough, had little friend dinner-dates, drank together, superficially shared their woes in ways that benefited no one, and DU drow ultimately had a great deal of respect for Gortash - except you would have never known that by the way he treated him.

DU drow belittled, harassed, and even destroyed Gortash's property on whim alone. Every compliment was back-handed and every display of friendship was somehow sarcastic. Gortash let everything slide right off his back for reasons I like leaving obscured. Here's a particularly intense write-up I did about their relationship a long time ago that still stands. I think it serves really well to illustrate how intense DU drow could still be about his friendships.

PFFTT, I don't know why that would be a female-child only thing, but maybe that's just a colloquialism?

DU drow actually talks pretty similarly to children as he does to adults! He just doesn't set the same expectations on them. Children don't ask stupid questions because the world is still new to them, nor do their respond reasonably to everything, they also don't understand some big words or complex ideas depending on how you present it to them - he understands this and adjusts accordingly. But otherwise his tone would be the same, even with his his own child. He's that guy who's good with kids on the basis of treating them as to-be adults rather than.. Well, just a child.

The Astarion assessment is fair, LOL.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

(Surface) elven kind strikes me as fairly gender-indifferent overall! And while I enjoy theorizing about how their culture has shifted over the years from exposure to "urban life", for both better and worse, I like to think this is an aspect that has remained mostly unchanged, even for elves who may have had a really mixed-up upbringing from living in a city as diverse as Baldur's Gate.

I believe Astarion (and by extension Shadowheart and DU drow) are fully aware that they read as their respective genders and that for other races, such as humans, that means something; but for them that is a different custom that doesn't really apply outside of pronouns and reproductive expectations. So, I actually believe that Astarion would be pretty indifferent to life as a woman save for occasionally missing having a dick for the obvious reasons (only to then shift back and lament the opposite, probably).

ALL THE TIME!

But I know that you meant to ask if I will ever draw it.

VERY LIKELY THAT I WILL.

As a side note, thank you for showing interest and excitement for male-on-male sex that isn't just anal, LOL.

CW for the obvious, though nothing too descriptive or awful.

I understand if people disagree as a knee-jerk reaction, but I would say that Astarion's character demonstrates a shocking amount of self-control and emotional regulation. I went into this more in detail in an older post, but basically: the guy always brings himself down from his own outbursts, is exceptionally good at reading the room, is extremely forgiving and pragmatic, and knows when to send the jokes outside and respond to vulnerability in kind. I stand by this as more than a headcanon; it's in his actual writing and dialogue.

All that to say, I don't think Astarion would ever lay a violent hand on his own children. I also don't HC him as having endured corporal punishment as a child, hence not really having that instilled in his mind as a possible example to draw from.

I could see DU drow implementing physical punishments that he doesn't consider to be actually painful, like pulling, pinching, or squeezing a child while you reprehend them; things a parent might do because they think it's harmless. Astarion would probably be the one to say he's not really achieving anything - so it would likely be short-lived.

I DO think they would both be okay with setting up their children to pretty arduous physical labor, though, both as punishment and just in general to toughen them up. You could argue there's a way to do this that is reasonable, but they would prooobably push that line into dubious territory.

Buddy, WHO said low fat, what do you think the meat and taters that he's eating is swimming in!

But back to your question, he can enjoy a sweet treat every once in a while! He just far, far prefers savory. Personally, I think the guy would go crazy for a panettone. Or a big sugar-powdered crepe with some berries.

I kind of flew through the Circus in DU drow's playthrough because I was SO excited to get to Baldur's gate. They were only there long enough for DU drow to make Astarion mildly pissed off during the dryad's weird love quiz.

I also somehow missed Lucretious and never got the Dribbles quest - probably for the best.

Becoming a big ol' squid seems like a deal-breaker for his character in-game - so, same thing applies here. He'd let him down gently but potentially want a friendship for as long as DU drow is still himself.

... Buuuut it would never come to that; DU drow would most likely end his life pretty swiftly if he were to turn into a mindflayer, so Astarion wouldn't have much to worry about 😬

Alas, she pretty much never crosses his mind since he has no recollection of the type of relationship they had prior to DU drow's amnesia.

Or at least she won't as long as nothing weird ever happens that potentially jogs his memory 😇

Hello! I also love the escorts, but due to both DU Drow's and Astarion's respective attitudes towards drow and that kind of activity they didn't really hire his services. I do like to think him and his sister had a lot to gossip about as soon as they turned their backs, though, LOL.

[buzzzing-beezzz]

Not really seeing how wearing tattered pajama bottoms is gonna make a man happy but…

I’m sorta with you about the whole women over 50 thing—it’s obviously not all, there are some very nice women over 50–but I think there’s definitely a trend with older women becoming bitchier in general. I’ve hypothesized hormonal changes are a contributor, and jealousy (if you haven’t made your life what you want it to be by that point, yeah you’d be pretty miserable and wish your life was more like someone else’s) plus most older women have been bitchy to me as a young adult. I’ve always gotten the impression they’re gripped by some primitive instinct to be at odds with younger females out of a territorial need we developed as chimps.

For example, they might demand you to cook for others even though you don’t want to but hey, they need help and you’re nice right? But then they get upset when you do it better than them, as noted by the fact that everyone else had something nice to say about your cooking but she has nothing but criticisms for every little thing. I never even wanted to be part of your stupid fucking kitchen competition in the first place you rancid boiled egg, the least you could do is make up your fucking mind about what it is you really want, and hey, idk, maybe I could get a thank you for helping out? Or they’ll catch their boyfriend checking you out inappropriately and take it out on you. As if I want your crummy pervy boyfriend, idiot. Definitely sensing jealousy as well when you hear an older woman yell “move it, lady!” When you’re only 16. God, I hope I’m not magically like this when I’m older because of hormones. Maybe I should just make sure to get the testosterone injections before that point.

[ladyrosemone]

My favorite

We've got all the ingredients, except you needing me - Cake, Melanie Martinez

I'm using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ Please excuse any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies, I swear I'm studying to improve my written English 😭 This idea came to me thanks to @kiwisandpearls, I loved your take on the abandoned Waynes haha! I'll definitely be making more at some point.

The Waynes, the most powerful and influential family in Gotham City, the diamond that gives it an artificial shine, replacing the forgetful Sun, which never seems to illuminate those lands of darkness.

What makes the Waynes different from other Gotham millionaires is not their humility, nor their sense of duty to their employees and followers, much less their reckless extravagance when it comes to spreading their (according to gossip) infinite wealth.

No, none of that, it's something more private, more intimate.

Love.

At first no one believed that, because come on, Bruce Wayne? The greatest playboy known throughout the world, with adopted children as if they were precious jewels every season, conceited and proud, a philanthropic genius of unfair beauty? In love? Pure gossip that entertained for a while, but was never more than that, gossip for the elite and showbiz for the lower class.

Until a newspaper (one that does not usually produce so many fallacies), revealed its newest scandal.

"Bruce Wayne Spotted With Young Beauty! Has Gotham's Biggest Mogul Finally Settled Down?"

If that wasn't enough, they were right, because the next launch came with Olympic magnitudes!

"Bruce Wayne's Child Finally Revealed! Gives Exclusive Interview About Him Sudden Return"

And how do we get to this?

When a man loves a woman...oh no, that's not how it started.

It was a woman from his youth, one who left when the next day and returned when Batman appeared in Gotham City.

You arrived as a ten-year-old child; small and confused, scared and insecure, longing for you deceased mother and the life you left behind with her. Bruce didn't know how to relate to you at first, and having an angry, newly orphaned child didn't make him any better, but he tried, he really did.

And little by little it worked...only in one child.

You could never get over the loss of your mother, she was your whole world and now you were with this...man who claims to be your father, a father you never had and out of nowhere he gives you things and takes you to his work to meet more boring old men. To make matters worse, that child he adopted out of charity is irritating, one day bothering you for being "spoiled" and the next wanting to spend a sibling afternoon with you.

But you don't have brothers.

You didn't have them when Jason arrived (although you cried for him), you didn't have them when Tim arrived and definitely not when Damian arrived and his arrogant attitude of the legitimate son wanting to hang out with only you. It's frustrating! Every second of the day is a request from someone to go out, to eat together, to...For anything to keep them attached like fleas!

You remember one of Richard's last attempts, before he left Gotham for an exchange, or for you a chance to get away from that family;

You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast that she had prepared herself because it makes you uncomfortable to have an older man serving you, when Richard appears with his hundred-dollar smile and a lot of irritating energy.

"Hello hello!" He greets you with his usual energy "How did my favorite person wake up?"

It's too early for this you think tiredly, taking a sip of coffee.

Your lack of response doesn't discourage him, it motivates him more for some strange reason "I have wonderful news, I got a vacation from work! And guess where we're going?"

"We're going?" Bored questions, annoyed by the new plan that you were not consulted about, again.

"That's the spirit! Let's go to Disneyland!"

"..." you look at him with dead eyes, and with all your heart you wonder how that big boy is a functional adult "I can't today, but ask me tomorrow, I'll surely be free to go"

"Really?"

"No"

Next is Jason, who although he was not as insistent as Richard, was the most energetic in his attempts, then the Joker thing happened and...well, you can't treat him badly, you're not cruel.

But coming back from the dead is his pity card, used so many times that you wonder every day if it became an excuse at some point.

"Hey" he said to you one day when he found you in the library "There's an art and literature exhibition in the downtown library, let's go"

"...I'm already reading"

"You can read with me and shop at the same time, you like shopping don't you?"

"I like my time alone with my book, Jason"

"You didn't used to say the same thing, but that's what makes you die, it leaves you thinking about your past life..."

"..."

"...Are you coming?"

"I hope you get hit by a car"

Tim is a silent pusher, he doesn't come close but you know he's there, and that happens brr brr every minute with a brr brr new message.

"Where are you?"

"Are you really asking me?"

"I give you the benefit of the doubt"

"I'm going to block you"

"Again?"

"The computers of the whole city"

Virtual annoyance has been disconnected

And Damian...OMG Damian.

It's a nuisance, a sharp little nuisance; refusing to leave your side whenever he can, demanding attention, time together, activities and visits to any place he wants.

"Sister" greets the boy, who doesn't even know where he came from if you're at university right now and he should be at school.

"What are you doing here Damian?" You demanded harshly, looking everywhere so that no one would associate Bruce Wayne's youngest son with you, not when you did your best not to be recognized as a Wayne since you were a child.

"I want to go save wildlife in Africa from hunters and I need an adult to accompany me" he explains as if it were the most normal thing in the world, another Thursday for him.

"Tell Bruce-"

"Father"

"Let me take you, or take Richard, don't bother me"

"And I don't want adopted children, I want my blood accompanying me in this mission to safeguard wildlife"

"If I tell you if you leave?"

"Are you going with me?"

"Yes yes whatever"

You didn't go.

And not to mention the collateral damage; Barbara and her constant moments of togetherness solving cases (you don't answer her messages), Stephenie and her desire for you to teach her how to cook (you never go to the mansion's kitchen), Cassandra wanting to be by your side (years with Bruce allowed you to develop a sixth sense to evade his shadows), and the newest, Duke Thomas.

He is fine...he keeps his distance, and deliberately ignores the fact that not a single light bothers his eyesight all day.

The worst of all, your father, Bruce Wayne.

Money, gifts, trips, clothes, portraits, everything he can give you, he gives it to you, so much so that you feel like drowning sometimes.

It is strict and suffocating, affectionate but distant, present and absent at the same time. It is annoying and contradictory!

He was the reason you went on exchange to Metropolis, until you discovered that the Kents were close friends of your father and that their approach was not of good will, relocating you to Spain until you finished university.

Reluctantly you had to go back, just long enough to finish the paperwork and stop being Wayne once and for all.

But that was your mistake, coming home, and this time they won't let you go, because you can't hate them more and that's an opportunity for them.

[hrrtshape]

i want the tea emmaaa 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

✶ the latest report on my shift to my better cr (aka kind of a socialite dr)

◞ when i shifted : for way longer. way, way longer. i blinked and suddenly i had months’ worth of memories. time is fake, time is a performance, time is a dinner party where i am the guest of honour and also the mysterious figure slipping out the back door. the ratio? unknown. inconceivable. i went to sleep and woke up and lived. isn’t that enough? but the present in my better cr is currently the present in here !

◞ where i shifted : still new york, still my mom’s penthouse, still living in a pinterest board except this time i fully leaned into it. every single aesthetic touch, every candle, every casually draped cashmere throw. curated to perfection. we are talking "architectural digest home tour where the interviewer is quietly weeping over how good my taste is" levels of perfection. the google maps situation remains the same: in this reality, my house is a hotel. fate? simulation glitch? the universe keeping me humble? who knows.

◞ family dynamics : my older brother remains a tech bro of the most devastating calibre. the type who makes a billion-dollar deal on his phone in between espresso shots, then immediately gets distracted by an art heist conspiracy theory and disappears for a week. my younger brother (he's weirdly obsessed with filming cars for instagram) continues to reside with my dad in the west village, and their place is basically a salon for the emotionally sophisticated. like, picture cigars (unlit, for aesthetic), first edition books, and a record player that only plays vinyls of people arguing in french. my dad..... still at sotheby’s, still slightly overwhelmed, still one misplaced signature away from an auction-house disaster. my mom is still an empire-builder, still the queen of sugar-free decadence, still able to make a CEO cry in under five minutes. i am so obsessed with her.

◞ my friends : lily-rose remains my ride-or-die. our friendship has transcended words and become something closer to an art form. we communicate through glances, through impeccably timed laughter, through the shared knowledge that we are always, always the main characters. also, blair waldorf is STILL in my life, and i am STILL not over it. she tolerates me, which is the highest form of affection. the gossip girl universe continues to imprint itself onto my reality, and honestly? i welcome it. @chaaistained you're still the light of my life xxxx

◞ loml, coryo : mhm. mhm. mhm. (pause for applause). not writing how just yet, but let’s just say the universe finally got the memo. cutest cutie ever.

◞ food : the cafes remain exquisite. the hazelnut croissants remain life-altering. i have officially become one with my iced matcha. my bloodstream is no longer soy milk; it is pure, concentrated vibes. best meal.... one night my mum and i booked out an entire restaurant just to have a private dinner and discuss our enemies. just mother-daughter bonding things. le bernardin continues to serve food so good i nearly cried. and, of course, because i went to paris, we gorged on croissants.

◞ outfits : i wake up. my closet, endless. my options, infinite. every single piece of clothing i have ever wanted? there. there were DAYS i changed outfits purely because i could. there were NIGHTS i sat in front of my floor-length mirror, trying on silk dresses and whispering, "what’s the move tonight?" even if there was no move. just the illusion of one.

◞ school : st. lazarus remains the most iconic institution to ever exist. the uniforms are still perfect. the hierarchy is still thrilling. my classes are as follows !!! :

philosophy : my professor has officially lost his grip on reality. i am his nemesis and also his favourite student. i say things just to watch him spiral. it’s a sport. history : the battlefield. coryo is writing my history IA. i am having the time of my life. literature : divine. ethereal. my professor respects me too much. maths : a struggle but at least my notes look nice. but i did script that i atleast understand what's happening.

◞ social scene : parties, parties, PARTIES. penthouses, rooftops, spontaneous trips. people draped over velvet sofas, half-drunk champagne glasses abandoned on marble countertops. whispered secrets. dramatic exits. nights that felt like music videos.

◞ unforgettable moments : celebrated my younger brother’s 15th birthday. f1-themed, obviously, because he’s still in his karting prodigy era. the cake was a racetrack. the vibe was grand prix meets family sitcom. the whole paris trip. somewhere in the mix: a snowstorm, a museum date, a night spent on the roof because the city looked too beautiful to go inside. got recognised at least once in public. tried a new restaurant where the shakshuka made me question my entire existence. there were art gallery openings where the champagne was free-flowing and the conversations were like a linguistic fencing match. sunday brunches that spiraled into entire days out. afternoons spent trying on impractical dresses just to twirl in fitting rooms. soft launches of new perfumes (because every era needs a signature scent).

◞ books i read : ulysses (continued). the secret history ( i read it in my cr...but...c'mon. it was time ). a collection of sapphic poetry that made me feel like i was floating.

◞ the details that made it real : the way my pen scratched against my notebook in class. the exact weight of my chloé tote in my hand. the way my breath fogged up the glass of my balcony doors when i pressed my forehead against them in the early morning. the quiet click of my mum’s marc jacobs' boots on marble floors.

◞ oh !!! and christmas !!! : christmas in my better cr was in lithuania, obviously. flew out on the 23rd, spent it with the extended family. my grandma made dubai chocolate (not that kind of dubai chocolate...she lives in karoliniškės, ok). my makeup artist aunt got me a lip tint, very on brand. my one-year-old cousin nora is in her cherubic era. we were besties for the week. played with her nonstop. got my younger brother every f1 lego car in existence. my mum got me archival miu miu. my great-grandma saw me, got sentimental, cried a little, made me eat an ungodly amount of cepelinai. very lithuanian of her. left early, landed at jfk at a stupid hour. 1 am. coryo was there in sweatpants, threw his car at the curb like he was in some noir film, very dramatic, very romantic. nearly tackled me. i was gone for less than a week but he missed me like it had been years. got me presents too. he is so lovesick it’s almost embarrassing.

that’s it for now, lovies. i have MORE, obviously, but let’s pace ourselves. mwah xxxxxxx

[interact-if]

Black History Month Author Spotlight: Lapin

To kickstart the Black History Month Author Spotlight series, I'd like to introduce everyone to our first IF author, Lapin (@harlequinoccult)!

(I had a ton of fun reading Lapin’s answers, and I’m sure you will too! Read on for a celebration of ‘weird,’ Lapin’s Black southern gothic / horror influences, and how a D&D game could lead to interactive fiction!

Lapin, thank you again for your candid, humorous responses, I am very honored to have gotten to know you better :D)

Author: Lapin

Black creole and cajun, artist and writer, and wannabe game developer

Games: Slaughter Squad (Horror, Slasher, Romance)

Synopsis: YOU HAVE A HUNGER A HUNGER THAT YOU’VE BEEN NEGLECTING For the most part, you’re a pretty normal mid-20-something year old who lives in a shitty apartment in the city. Well, except for one thing. Your.....”Associate” Carter “Dollface” Abernathy. Who is a murderer, and quite frankly, a sloppy one at that. And you’re the accessory to his crimes. No matter what way you’ve gotten to know the man, or how you feel about him, you’re stuck with him, and stuck with just being his little “helper” ........Or are you? Especially when you’re suddenly given a....Unique opportunity.

Games: The Valley of Luck (Fantasy, Adventure, Romance)

Synopsis: The Valley of Luck was said to be a myth. Something that grandparents would tell their grand-kids around a campfire. Even those who worshiped Lucian, The God of Luck, thought it nothing but an old wives tale. Until, one day, a man with an arm made of solid gold started telling people that he'd been there, that he'd seen the Valley. Word spread quickly, and suddenly, every continent was alight with the rumor that The Valley was real, that it could give you all the riches you could ever want, and then some. However, your quest, whether related to The Valley or not, will lead you down a much stranger path.

Quote from the interview:

My upbringing was a bit odd. I am the youngest of three, two older brothers, one being a half brother, in a black military household… Middle school Lapin was a jock. But, lo and behold, the internet started getting more popular and that kid's brain exploded from internet exposure, for better and for worse. … I feel that there is a specific and niche demographic of people like me that were raised by early 2000s to 2010s internet. And on that era of internet, were creepypastas, online horror, early ARGs….I ADORED internet horror, which was my gateway into classic horror, funnily enough. Slaughter Squad, in my eyes, is a letter to that black kid that wanted to be weird. Be weird, be messy, see a fucked up movie, get more out of life.

Read on for the full interview!

Tell me more about yourself! What are some things new readers or long-time readers might not know about you?

Both parts of my family are 100% from Louisiana, New Orleans and the deep south. My moms side have been there so long, we have two streets named after us.

Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?

My main project, of course, is Slaughter Squad. I love slasher movies and horror media in general. But what I always noticed with horror/romance, at least in the visual novel scene, is that the main character is nearly always the one getting screwed over, so I thought, well, what if the bad guys actually are your peers? How would this dynamic change if they don't see you as prey? I never thought that premise would appeal so much to so many but hey, I can't complain! I adore seeing people having fun with the silly little concept I had.

Now, my secondary project, The Valley of Luck. Some may not know this, but this story is based off of a D&D campaign I DM'ed back in the day with my friends. All the ROs are NPCs that my friends had, or where going to encounter. I won't lie, I did shy away from it and changed some things when the whole debacle with Wizards of the coast (the company that "owns" D&D) Where making some...questionable decisions. But this story is my baby. My first born. This one has been in the works far longer than SLSQ and has a lot of background lore that I hope I get the opportunity to share.

I do have a few other projects bumping around, One I am particularly excited for, But that one will have to wait a little bit~

How has your identity, heritage/background, upbringing, or personal experiences influenced your storytelling or writing process? OR How does your work feature aspects of your identity / experience?

My upbringing was a bit odd. I am the youngest of three, two older brothers, one being a half brother, in a black military household. I never felt that I truly had a sense of identity until that household inevitably split up. Everyone talks about being the weird kid in middle school, but no one mentions being the "normal on the outside but wants to be the weird kid so bad its painful on the inside but can't because you were told that stuff is 'white people shit' " type of kid.

Middle school Lapin was a jock. But, lo and behold, the internet started getting more popular and that kid's brain exploded from internet exposure, for better and for worse. I was a little shitter on the internet, I can't lie about that, as much as I want to. But I feel that there is a specific and niche demographic of people like me that were raised by early 2000s to 2010s internet. And on that era of internet, were creepypastas, online horror, early ARGs....I ADORED internet horror, which was my gateway into classic horror, funnily enough. Slaughter Squad, in my eyes, is a letter to that black kid that wanted to be weird. Be weird, be messy, see a fucked up movie, get more out of life.

What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you?

Let your characters speak through you like you're being possessed by a demon.

What’s the one thing you’re really proud of that you’ve written so far? Do you have a favorite character or scene that you’ve written?

I am so serious.

is it wildly inconvenient? yes. does it help your writing a ton? also yes. Doing Roleplay with friends is a fantastic way to learn to do this. being a DM for a D&D game has basically made it so characters can simply speak from my brain at any given moment. It's also annoying because some of these people do NOT shut up. Learning how a character would react on the fly does wonders for dialogue writing and character analysis. Roleplay with your friends, or hell, strangers who are down to clown that could become friends. Be cringe. be free.

I love the opening to Slaughter Squad and if you told me to rewrite it with a gun to my head I would tell you to shoot me. I love how punchy it is and it came out exactly how I wanted it to. I don't play favorites with characters (<- lying) but my two favorites to write are the stinky little bastard cat Sterling in TVoL and.....Carter, from SLSQ. I love writing complete bastards. One being lighthearted and gets a pass for it because he's just a kitty cat and the other you want to actively beat his face in with your bare hands. It's SO funny.

If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be?

Write. Write it now. Doesn't have to be good doesn't have to be polish all that matters is that you WROTE IT. All the bells and whistles can come later!!!! Stop thinking about the later and think about the now!!!! Write what you love and never give two shits about if it's cringe!!! Be excellent to each other!!!

Any books, music, movies etc. you’re obsessed with at the moment, or which changed your life (or perspectives on something)?

GO LISTEN TO CHROMAKOPIA BY TYLER THE CREATOR RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!

This-or-that segment: (bold = Lapin’s pick)

Coffee or tea?

Early mornings or late nights?

City or countryside?

Angsty or Cozy romances? (Or enemies-to-lovers or best-friends-to-lovers?)  

Steady progress or frenzied binge-writing followed by periods of calm?

Summer or Winter?

First drafts or editing?

Introvert or extrovert?

Plotter or pantser?

Characters or plot first?

Lapin’s custom “this-or-that” pairing: Rain or Shine

More on Black Southern Gothic:

Black southern gothic can vary a lot, but when I think of it, I think of old semi abandoned wood shotgun houses in the swamp, all white tiny baptist churches where the white paint is peeling from the heat and humidity, riding horses down a dirt paved street while people still ride by in their old busted down 1960s chevys. Old plantation houses that have been reclaimed by the swamp. The dark, humid heat of the night on a street with no streetlights. Every house you see is absolutely haunted by something and not just ghosts. Voodoo and hoodoo is different than what people will tell you it is.

Sassafrass, Cypress and Indigo by Ntozake Shange, Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jessamin Ward, and anything by Toni Morrison 100%.

[sweet-as-peach]

i’m reminded a lot of ppl on tungle don’t keep up with rap shit so important context!

drake wouldn’t respond to a diss from megan thee stallion where she called him a pedophile (✅) with plastic surgery abs (✅) who doesn’t really have any artistic credibility and pretends to be a “got it out the mud” type even tho he was literally on degrassi.

she did this because he accused her of lying about being shot.

drake didn’t respond to her (presumably because she’s a woman) and all parties went about their life.

drake then makes a song with j. cole. he invited kendrick to be on it with him (they are longtime associates) but kendrick declines. in this song he refers to himself and j. cole as being two of the top 3 rappers ever, being equal to one another. kendrick says No I’m Actually Better Than Yall. the two go back and forth with diss records and drake gets dogwalked .

if memory serves, 9 or 10 songs in total came as a result of that. here are some highlights from drake’s tracks

(push ups, drake)

(family matters, drake)

to encourage those reading to listen to more kendrick lamar (they should! he is excellent!) i’m not going to include his individual lines and am going to make you look up the lyrics to any of his four disses* that are available on apple music. i will instead synopsize what i thought was the most cutting

you are a pedophile (✅)

you are on ozempic

you have had a great deal of cosmetic surgery

you tried to be a deadbeat dad to your son

you are a pedophile (✅)

the only reason you’re not a deadbeat dad to your son is because the last time you got in a rap beef the other person exposed you for having a secret kid, you couldn’t deny him so rather than be absent you pretended to be ignorant and now trot him out periodically to come across as a dilf and a good man (✅)

hey check this shit out

you’ve claimed your son, now go claim your daughter (who is older than him!) who you refuse to publicly acknowledge

actually scratch that it’s probably not wise for a “sick man with the kinks of a nympho fetish” to be around an 11 year old girl

you are a bad bitch and you can’t make music that is legitimately moving, only pop hits, so stick to that

you are a pedophile (✅)

you have nothing you can levy against me because you know i am a more talented artist, a better father, and a better man than you are. the closest you came was when you misunderstood something i said and acted like i was sexually abused by the men of my family and then said my lady cheated on me because we don’t follow each other on instagram

there is of course more to it, and if you want someone else’s perspective on it i would recommend Josh Johnson on YT because he is funnier than i am

*these four disses make up about 22 minutes of music, and are not the only disses kendrick released about drake, just the ones he put on apple music

Kendrick Lamar is now a 22-time Grammy award winner. Not Like Us broke the record for most win by a rap song in Grammy history. It's also the first diss record to win a Grammy.

[skhv67]

rivals to lovers – dae-ho x fem!reader

a/n: its high key one-sided because dae-ho is a sweetheart. fluff, tiniest bit of angst, smut. (PLEASE ONLY +18)

tw: written at 6am 😔🤙 probably ooc

wc: 2.364

SUMMARY: you and dae-ho are academic rivals… of at least that’s what you thought.

• You two have known each other since the first year of university. You couldn’t forget because the very first day of college he corrected you when you were answering your teacher’s question.

• You glared at him with a sour expression, but he was just looking at you with a soft smile and he even nodded at you as if he had done you a favor.

• Despite literally nobody else caring about this interaction, it didn’t leave your mind. In fact, from that moment you’d hyperfocus every time he’d speak up in class.

• Poor thing will probably think you’re looking at him with good intentions, that when you avoided eye contact or went quiet around him was because he made you nervous.

• You actually thought his interventions were pretentious and the little smiles he flashed at you when he ‘helped you out’ were just a subtle way to mock you without looking like a twat.

• When you two were paired during the third year to do the most important project of your sociology class you wanted to end it all there and then.

• The first few times you had to hang out outside college were awkward. You were defensive when he brought up -seemingly- better points than you and you didn’t reply to any of his attempts at being friendly and funny.

• All he got from you were sighs, frowns and a cold shoulder, which confused him because until then he just thought you were just shy.

• He had to ask his older sisters for advice.

• BONK! This woman hates you, you really thought she was into you?

• What a bummer.

• The next times you had to hang out were a bit more awkward, because he was trying even HARDER to make you stop disliking him. Spoiler: it was doing the opposite.

• You weren’t blind to the way every girl in your year swooned over him. He was charming and attractive, he got good grades, he was also helpful and kind… But you couldn’t help but think it was all disingenuous. His help felt like a knife, like he was poking at your insecurities just to feel superior when he lent you a hand.

• The day he was trying to schedule a day for you two to meet up to finish up the project you were especially sensitive and unfortunately one of his jokes to ease the nerves he felt around you didn’t land as he was hoping to.

• ‘’Can you leave me the fuck alone? I’m not interested in being your friend, I can’t wait for this to be over to not have to talk to you anymore!’’

• Ouch.

• After that he only sent you a message with the time and the café you were going to meet to finish the project. No stickers, no emojis nor smiley faces. You wanted to celebrate your triumph but the way your heart started racing nervously confused you.

• The days until the meet up were weird, he wouldn’t attempt to talk to you in class, if he had to interact with you it was brief and distant, and he looked away if your eyes ever connected.

• Your mind was screaming with pride that you were right all along, and all his kindness was just a cover up. This newfound coldness was how he truly was once you called on his bullshit.

• Your heart, however, felt quite the opposite. You were fighting for your life to not text him a polite apology for the embarrassing outburst you had.

• The day came and when you arrive at the café you notice him barely sparing you a glance before looking back down at his laptop.

• The meet up was shorter than usual. And awkward.

• The silence he usually filled with corny jokes felt heavy and you were too embarrassed to admit to yourself that you kind of missed seeing his smile.

• As you finished the conclusion, he thanked you politely for your work and didn’t waste any time getting ready to leave.

• Despite your deepest need to say something, you took all your things and left the café after him.

• Or attempted.

• You let the heaviest sigh seeing the rain pouring in front of your umbrella-less self. You contemplate texting any of your siblings to come get you instead of doing the ten-minute long walk to the bus stop without even a hood to protect yourself.

• Not too long passes until you notice a figure stopping in front of you.

• Now you truly wanted to end it all.

• Dae-ho looks at you with hesitance, not too confident in offering you his umbrella to shield you from the rain.

• ‘’Where’s your car?’’ he subtly looked at your trembling hands, knuckles red from the cold.

• ‘’I’m taking the bus’’ you whispered.

• Yeah, you’re crazy if you think this man is gonna let you walk to the bus stop, let alone wait in the cold until the bus arrives.

• He nodded towards the parking lot silently indicating you to come with him.

• Well, you also don’t want to die from hypothermia, so what other choice do you have.

• Squishing yourself next to him to fit under his umbrella, you felt the warmth of his body and his perfume overwhelm your senses. Was he ever this annoyingly attractive or were you losing your mind?

• If the walk under his umbrella was bad the car ride was even WORSE.

• The silence was so heavy and uncomfortable, he looked at you from the corner of his eye to check if you were in the mood to hear him talk. Much to his surprise he saw your tense form clenching your fists and looking in front of you in an almost robotic way.

• You noticed him looking at you, because naturally he wasn't as subtle has he thought he was.

• "Should I check your pulse? You're scaring me"

• You blinked at him and then let out a little giggle.

• Okay now HE was tripping because why did his heart skip a beat at the sound. He even dared to stare at you (for more than three seconds, a record that week) and he felt his face heat up at the sight of your little smile. Dae-ho never realized that he had never seen your smile before. You had never laughed at anything he's said no matter how hard he had tried and you hadn't granted him the pleasure to see what he confirmed just then to be the most beautiful smile he had ever laid his eyes on.

• The tension he had been keeping in all week finally left his body and he kept making light jokes testing the waters. Once he saw you were at ease he let his personality shine again.

• The ride to your house was painfully short, and it pained you to admit that you could see why all your classmates would die to get a chance with him.

• It was hard to admit that maybe you were wrong and he had always been as sweet as he seemed.

• The following week he's literally glued to you.

• You made the decision of laughing at something he said once and now this man is in love with you, congratulations.

• He doesn't even try to hide his excitement everytime he sees you and as time passes he even teases the idea of going on a date. You're also lucky enough to hear some of his corny pick up lines.

• You two go to a café date (well it wasn't officially a date, but it was in his mind).

• There he tells you about his family. Him growing up with four older sisters made everything make sense to you and your heart broke when he said was disappointed that he decided being a nurse instead of studying law or medicine.

• You also tell him about you aspirations and your passion for the field and he's looking at you enthralled hanging on every word that came out of your lips.

• Talking about that, at some point while you're complaining about thing #130 today he finds himself lost in you lips. He traces the shape with his eyes and imagines parting them with his tongue He wonders about the taste of your lip balm and if they're as soft as they look right now.

• You'd think he'd be a bit more confident being caught doing this considering he was being quite obvious about it but the second he sees you looking at him he panics like crazy.

• You laugh it off and as the gentleman he is he gets you home safe and sound.

• That summer he decides he's going to officially make a move.

• (he doesn't)

• Summer made you inseparable and you couldn't understand how many years you've wasted hating him undeservingly.

• This time you were both hanging out in your room. You two had made a habit out of watching a movie once a week and would play rock, papers, scissor to see who would host and pay for the take out.

• Tonight you had lost and unfortunately for you he got to choose the film as well.

• The only good part of this was seeing him being an absolute nerd about it when you tried to argue about the plot holes of the movie.

• He was passionately exposing his points for you and you couldn't hear a single thing he was saying, too busy getting slowly closer to him.

• He had been so busy trying to prove his point that he doesn't notice your pretty eyes right in front of him and your noses practically brushing.

• It wasn't until he felt your hot breath against your lips that he came back down to reality. He froze in his seat and looked at you wide eyed.

• For a moment you think you might've even misunderstood every single interaction you two have had until now so you were about to turn away until he finally decided to react and grabbed your arm.

• The grip was firm but gentle, letting you know that you weren't getting away from him anytime soon. He looked at you doe eyed and used his free hand to bring you closer to him making you straddle him.

• "Can you fucking kiss me already?"

• He wastes no time connecting your lips and he lets out a breath he had been holding for what felt like ages.

• He finally got to slide his tongue against your bottom lip, savoring a slight taste of cherry. He smiled into the kiss, finally confirming his suspicions.

• A whine left his lips when you yanked his hair back roughly to get better access to his neck, to which he did not add any resistance.

• It only takes a few wet kisses down the column of his throat and a breathy "pretty boy" for him to get hard underneath you.

• Your jaw clenches when he starts rocking your hips back and forth over his hard on to relieve himself while he looked at you almost sorry to be manhandling you like that.

• As much as you enjoy him taking the initiative, you quickly take over and start grinding the bulge on his pants, feeling yourself pulsing against your panties at the friction.

• His needy eyes look at the scene before him taking in all the noises that came out of your mouth.

• A shaky breath leaves his soft lips when you sink your hand into his pants to palm him over his boxers.

• "Please"

• A smug smile creeps into your face when he finally gave you the sign you've been waiting for.

• Hurriedly you both take off each other's clothes while still placing messy kisses wherever you could.

• He looked down at your pussy with a nasty look of hunger you didn't expect of him and you knew then that if you hadn't stopped him there he would've placed you in your desk and devoured you whole in a second.

• "Another time, please, I need you" you beg in his ear before gently biting his earlobe.

• He nods profusely as he started stroking his flushed length in his hand to spread the slick of his tip along his dick.

• He holds you over him and drops you slowly on his length, chest heaving and long locks sticking to his face, framing it so perfectly.

• You clench around him as you reach the base and he mumbles a soft "fuck" under his breath. You press a needy kiss against his lips and nibble at his bottom lip.

• He starts sinking you down his dick with an indescribable urge, and you quickly start riding him as fast as your stamina let you.

• Even if you get tired don't worry because this man is already holding your hips and meeting you halfway.

• Your moans start turning into cries and his pace speeds up as soon as he realizes you're close.

• "C'mon, come for me baby" he grunted against your lips.

• With that you start trembling against his thighs and let go. You keep riding him through your climax and he soon enough comes too holding you impossibly closer to him.

• He held you in his hands while you came down from your high and placed you gently in your bed to proceed cleaning you up.

• Your face when you see both of you through the mirror (and the disgusted little "sticky" you mumbled at the sight of your glistening skin) convinced him to take you both to take a bath instead.

• "Hope this doesn't make you think I like you or something though" you looked at him through your lashes with a smirk on your reddened lips.

• "Sure" he laughed it off.

[seokminfilm]

longing to long for him ♫ lee seokmin

♫ pairing, lee seokmin x reader ♫ warnings, non-idol au, ceo au, husband seokmin, reader and seokmin have a baby girl, angst, hurt/no comfort, one allusion to being nude ♫ synopsis, you hate the feeling of being so close yet so far away.

♫ author's note, trying out a new layout! let me know your thoughts on it 🤍 been listening to same dream, same night, same mind by svt and suddenly had this urge to write something angsty with seokmin so here you go!! hurt no comfort too?? am i going insane?? (yes)

♫ now playing, same dream, same night, same mind, seventeen

♫ word count, 1.8k | for @kstrucknet

"welcome home, seokmin." your voice feels empty as you speak, but you bypass it, allowing your husband to bring you into his chest for a equally-empty hug.

being married to lee seokmin came with its ups and downs.

as the hardworking ceo of his own corporation, passed down to him by his grandfather, he always had a full, busy schedule. when seokmin wasn't busy in his office at home, he was on the road, driving from one meeting to another from sunrise to sunset.

as the youngest couple in the midst of seokmin's business partner circle, you were used to the so-called "advice" the older, married ladies would share with you at company dinner parties, as if it made the reality of your situation any better.

"there's no more time for love or play, now that mr. lee is climbing the ranks. you might as well get used to loveless nights, overdramatic reactions, and distant conversations. it happens to the best of us." one lady had said while stroking your back as if you were a miserable cat, and your skin boiled with anger, hoping that the lady would just drop dead.

the night you and seokmin had said "i do", he had laid down in your untouched hotel bed beside you, face and body still warm from the wedding's festivities. the sparkles in his eyes still haunt your memory to this day, and you could remember his sentence word for word, the feeling of his soft hand on your cheek as he looked into your eyes.

"no matter what happens from now until eternity, you'll always be on my mind."

that sentence was simple, but complex enough to make you teary eyed as seokmin hugged you, body engulfing yours as the sheets seemed to protect you from the harsh cold─the harsh cold being life without lee seokmin in it.

now, all you could feel was that cold.

"how's mihan?" seokmin's voice was tired, layers of disappointments and annoyance seeping into his words. his eyes were tired too, gaze harsh as he stripped himself of his shoes.

his styled hair was still flawless from this morning, and the sharp point of his nose was highlighted by the light shining down on him as he looked at his sleeping baby girl in your arms. she had your eyes and his nose, resting peacefully in her swaddle as you sighed, giving a small smile if only for her.

"she's doing okay. she's been sleeping all day." you say, and seokmin nods, sighing as he leans against the countertop. he stares up at the light, eyes unflinching as he shuts them tightly seconds later. the sigh that leaves his lips is felt, and your heart falls a little bit more, watching him bypass you without another word and disappear into your shared bedroom.

it hurts to see him leave without another kiss or tight hug like he used to do. as much as you wanted to ignore the warnings given to you in the early stage of your marriage, they were like bright stage lights, illuminating the things even you wanted to deny.

love used to be such an integral part of you and seokmin's marriage, and now, no matter how hard you looked or tried to pretend, you couldn't see it anymore. you couldn't remember the last time you or seokmin had said the phrase 'i love you' without sounding tired or empty, and it made your heart ache.

tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you walked to your bedroom, and mihan stirred in your arms, lips turning into a small smile as her tiny fingers clung to your shirt─the faded smiski tee seokmin had let you have the first time you had come home with him.

even he didn't recognize the shirt now. that, or he just didn't care anymore.

sitting on the bed after putting mihan to bed in her crib just a few steps away from you, you wipe the now freely falling tears from your eyes, wedding ring glinting on your finger as you chew at your lip, falling silent as the shower turns off in the bathroom.

soft piano lullabies play from your phone to calm down both you and mihan, and you sigh, turning away from the door as it opens to reveal seokmin's fresh face and toned figure, sweatpants thrown on around his waist as he scrubs his face dry.

your eyes meet for a second, taking each other in, and for a moment, it feels like old times again─the shyness you feel rising up in your body is just like when you saw seokmin nude for the first time, and it makes you turn away again, holding back fresh tears.

seokmin cleans up his mess, throwing his suit in the clothes hamper as he combs his fingers through his wet hair. his dark brown eyes seem to have more shadow under them, and he slowly makes his way to the bedside, crashing onto the sheets without a second thought.

silence goes through the room like a blaring siren, suffocating in nature as you look over to your husband. he's already fighting sleep, letting the silence and drip of the showerhead lull him to dreamland. his face is relaxed now, eyes half-lidded as he meets your gaze.

something lingers behind his eyes, but you don't know what, and before you can work up the courage to speak, he falls asleep, leaving you to long for him even more.

how long would you be longing to have lee seokmin back?