#embrace the cringe! live with the existence of Posting!
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it's always funny when you see stuff that is so obviously preemptively written to ward off Posting. the most overt manifestation is marvelesque lampshading of cliches ("hey isn't it stupid that we were saved at the last minute?") but there's other types of it. there's writing that addresses criticism in-text (Marvel Lady #24 owning a hater who says that Marvel Lady #24 is antifeminist) or fan responses like shipping (that one plotline in bbc sherlock that shows moriarty/sherlock shippers as weirdos nobody likes) or even stuff like worrying the reader won't understand the characters (EVERY instance of characters using therapyspeak in a story.)
to the insecure artist, the shadow of the Poster looms large over them. they can never mentally escape the fear that someone, somewhere, may be making memes about how their art sucks. and you know what? that's just beautiful
#narrates#it's REALLY funny. like it sucks because it makes a work flat and self-obsessed#but it's also just hysterical to see how much mental rent space the mere concept of critique takes up in a writer's mind#embrace the cringe! live with the existence of Posting!#you will never create a truly sincere piece of art if you're too afraid of people getting mad online
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The Arcana HCs: M6 on social media
Julian
He is on all the apps, you name it, he probably uses it
He's on theatre kid tiktok
Shamelessly posts thirst traps with niche references
Too many of them are doctor inspired
Perfectly understands the female gaze and takes full advantage of that
Embraces the cringe
Malak regularly photobombs his posts and there are multiple compilations of him fighting off/cussing out a shrieking crow
He canonically has a beautiful singing voice that he does not know how to use, voice coaches love duetting and reacting to him because it is so impressively terrible
He also needs to be carefully monitored though, for two main reasons:
One, all his posts need to be reviewed before he posts them, because he's terrible about internet safety
Two, because everyone gets hate comments and he already has nasty self-esteem issues
Portia gets into so many fights in the comments on her burner account
He is quite popular and has a large and dedicated following
Asra
As much potential as they have for stardom, they are an extremely private person and they are very aware of what kind of place the internet can be
He probably has BeReal and spends most of his time on SnapChat (you know he loves watching drama unfold)
Also has a very aesthetically pleasing Instagram that they forget exists. Scroll through and you'll see random photodumps of all the places they've traveled recently, spaced six months apart
Faust has her own account
He is the type to lurk, never comments, rarely likes, prefers to save something for later to show his friends in person instead of sharing or tagging them
They do love trying out what they see though, like viral pasta recipes and room lighting ideas
Except he'll add his own flashes of creativity as he goes
Sometimes it pays off, like when they got their whole living room to feel like an oasis
Sometimes it doesn't pay off, like when he tried an already sketchy viral food hack and added charcoal
They don't mind integrating social media into in-person situations, if the only thing you have energy for is cuddling up in a pillow pile and scrolling through saved videos together, they're down
Nadia
Facebook and LinkedIn
She's trying her best, she really is, but she has places to be and things to do and she'd rather spend her free time with the people she loves or getting some well-earned rest
The screens also contribute to her headaches
All her sisters are older than her, she has Facebook to keep up with them
She doesn't know that most of them keep with the times enough to have accounts on other platforms as well
She uses LinkedIn for networking, obviously
She does enjoy being entertained though! She loves it when you tilt your phone screen towards her so she can see whatever made you smile or laugh
Regularly asks you or Portia to show her everyone else's most recent posts
Julian's tiktok page is a mystery that never fails to make her laugh
She loves to be included in your posts and is always willing to pose with you for a selfie
She is a fantastic camera woman, she can follow angles and lighting like nobody's business
She does not know how to write captions
Muriel
He doesn't have one until you or Asra sit him down and walk him through the process
He chooses Instagram because he can see cat pictures that way
And because it's the platform most of you guys have an account on, so he can keep tabs on everyone
He has all of his privacy settings enabled
Most of his posts are pictures of Innana or the chickens (mostly the chickens)
No captions, ever
Every now and then someone from the Kokhuri will stumble across his profile and send a message request
He'll wait until you're free to sit with him while he messages them
He's slowly putting a family tree together of the people he's made contact with
Heartily dislikes the reels feature, the constant stimulation puts him on edge
Honestly prefers YouTube, he got a great ad blocker and he watches nature compilations and wilderness survival videos
He also watches videos about wolves so he can take care of Innana better, but he has to be careful when he does that because if the wolf in the video howls she does too
He stumbled across a fan-made compilation of Julian's thirst traps once and refuses to speak about it
Portia
Snapchat for the gossip, Tumblr for all the novels she's become a fan of, and Instagram for Pepi and her garden and baking endeavors
She is on everyone's Snapchat story. If she spots someone new at her workplace she's already sending them a friend request
Tumblr is her guilty pleasure, she has spent hours in the library devouring novels and now she can read and write as much unhinged fanfiction as she wants to
She also loves interacting with other people who enjoy the books and characters she does
Fanart makes her squeal
She hasn't found out about AO3 yet but once she does it's over
Her Instagram is gorgeous. She posts once or twice a day with garden updates, candid shots of Pepi being precious, and baking tips and tricks
Her feed is full of the wanderlust hashtag and it's fueling her bucket list
She has a decently sized following and loves it when people message her
She also has a tiktok burner account to monitor her crazy older brother
Definitely stays on top of all the trends and incorporates them into her Instagram posts
Lucio
He wants to be famous, he really does, but everything he tries flops
Obsessed with tiktok, it's where the young people are
It's also perfect for his limited attention span
Constantly trying to hop on new trends, but always misses the mark ever so slightly
Tried to put the LED light strips up in his bedroom, but he couldn't keep them straight so they're all slightly wonky
Refuses to take them down
He fell down the "alpha male" pipeline once and it took so much work to get him back out, he was insufferable
You got Nadia and Asra to give him a good beat down while you went through his phone and deleted all the accounts that couldn't be saved
You only let him back on when he promised to share his accounts with you, and he agreed on the condition that you help him try to get famous
You suggested he post about the things he knows, like self-defense tactics and survival
He gets a boost when you post a video of him trying and failing to follow a tiktok dance tutorial while he uses increasingly creative language and it goes viral
He's got a small following now and he's so proud of both of you
#the arcana headcanons#the arcana hc#the arcana#asra the arcana#julian the arcana#nadia the arcana#muriel the arcana#portia the arcana#lucio the arcana#the arcana game#the arcana shitpost#asra alnazar#julian devorak#nadia satrinava#muriel of the kokhuri#portia devorak#lucio morgasson
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This is going to sound like “let men be masculine” but I’m always seeing post after Tweet after video after comment going “It’s ok to be a feminine trans man! It’s ok to love wearing dresses and makeup as a trans man! It’s empowering! You should embrace your inner feminine side! Don’t let anyone tell you you’re cringe for loving flowers and glitter and skirts! Stick it to the queerphobes by being a feminine man!” and like that’s all fine and lovely stuff but mmh why are we so insistent that trans people who were AFAB find their source of euphoria in femininity?
Or especially that flamboyant femininity is the only way for a trans man’s gender expression to be truly radical? Queerphobes are pressed no matter how you present because they don’t like feminine men and they don’t like masculine women and no matter what you do with your clothes, you’re both to them. Masc trans men are pushing the boundaries of gender roles too and are just as queer as fem trans men.
It’s not out there to say that trans men are a different social category from cis men so the impact of us assuming a masculine gender role is not the same as it is for cis men. Any way you present as a trans person is going to be radical because you aren’t supposed to exist in the first place. I’m here for trans men who go against the gender norms that are forced on us by embracing masculinity after being told our whole lives we aren’t allowed.
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(Post write note: idk what this is I just wanted to write something so here is my spew for you)
All of this is predetermined to be a tragedy. Our lives will not last forever, and nor will humanity itself...
BUT
I'm here for the in-between moments. The parts that come in the middle of birth and death. The parts that can only be labelled as 'life'. Falling and scraping your skin across gravel as a child was agony, yes, but the blood that dripped down your skin was a reminder. You are alive. There is still so much change you can make.
Best friends who won't last forever. Best friends who will. Internet sisters. Learning about the way things work. Poetry!! Chemistry!! Passion and power and depth of being within yourself!! Loving yourself to death and reaching out and pushing to be someone who makes their younger self proud. Giving your friends stupid nicknames and making cringy jokes because being 'cringe' is a social construct. We as bright and wonderful and unique people were born with the sole purpose of bringing down walls that are put in place to stop us from reaching happiness. We are born with no knowledge of the end, only a longing for in-between moments. There is music everywhere. It rumbles and it whispers and the pounding in your head reminds you that you are alive. There is still so much change you can make.
Ultimately, we are all so so powerful. The resources we have buried in our souls are oh so delicately dangerous, and if someone were to reach out to find them, sometimes we aren't sure if they'd like what they see. But don't you get it? You are a result of the in-between moments of hundreds of ancestors, and you carry inside you the spirit of every hope that has not yet been lost.
You smile and your cheeks hurt and the pain reminds you that you are alive.
There is still so much change you can make.
Wahhhhh 🥹 this is so beautiful and sweet. Thank you for this sis :3
It’s such a beautiful reflection on the essence of life and the richness of experiences that shape us. Each moment, whether joyful or painful, contributes to the tapestry of our existence. Embracing the in-between moments, the ups and downs, is where true growth and transformation occur. It's a celebration of resilience, connection, self-discovery, and the limitless potential within each of us
Scraping knees on gravel, a painful dance. For in that agony, we find a reminder that we're more than just a name. Best friends fleeting, but our connections profound. In learning, in poetry, in chemistry's art. We find the passion that stirs.To love oneself fiercely, to strive and to yearn; to break down barriers. We're born to bring down walls, to chase our bliss,To revel in the in-betweens
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Ok probably cringe but my entire existence already is soooo-
Hopper and Julio (oc) headcannons cuz these bitches gay-
Despite Hopper being, well, Hopper he's actually a decent partner. He's not entirely used to being in a relationship as he's used to being alone and emotionally distant. He really tries though
Like sometimes, he'll try to bring Julio flowers (or those tiny flower buds that's down to their size) or food they can share. By Hopper's standards, that's a big deal for him as he'd never share food of all things with ANYONE
Julio on the other hand, is very lovey dovey and romantic, and adores even the smallest gestures from Hopper.
Because Julio is a singer, he dedicates some songs to Hopper ever so subtly. Mostly because they're in general love songs that don't go into specifics and they're all in Brazilian Portuguese, in which Hopper doesn't understand lol
Speaking of Julio singing, he's a big Bossa Nova fan and regularly sings in that genre. A lot of Julio's friends say he's stuck in the past because of this and the way he acts/dresses (i say dress very loosely because they dont wear clothes other than Julio's little hat) but Julio isn't bothered. There's certain things he liked about that time period and embraces it despite the time change
Hopper finds it somewhat charming actually but he'll take that to the grave
In fact he'll take many of his feelings/thoughts about Julio to the grave
Like how he loves the way Julio sings, and how it's enough to actually make him blush about it. And Julio's overal chipper attitude even if Hopper acts like it's mildly annoying or naive
And if he admits any of these to you, you're probably going to die in the next couple of seconds
Also, this storyline takes place after the events of the movie in as if he survived the bird attack. He made it out alive (barely) and fled and had to fend for himself for awhile until getting himself trapped in a transport truck while foraging that went all the way to Brazil where he first met Julio
Julio helped him navigate this strange new land of Rio de Janerio, with the added benefit of also somewhat protecting him from the many birds/parrots that are found there
You see, Julio is a violet-winged grasshopper, getting their name from their blue or violet wings they flash to warn predators that they're poisonous to eat, hence why Julio lives virtually worry free while Hopper flinches every time he hears a mere squawk of a parrot (and spoiler: he hears them a LOT)
Hopper is protective AS FUCK, and defensive. You give him or Julio a dirty look and he'll make your insides outsides
Julio is also very touchy, very often is seen hugging Hopper, kissing him, holding his hand, leaning against him, nuzzling up into him, etc etc. It makes Hopper feel all fuzzy and warm on the inside but almost nobody would be able to tell and he makes sure of it
The most you'd see from him is a small smile, but I can't stress the "small" enough
And once in a blue moon, Hopper is the one that shows affection first
I'll be honest when Hopper first felt feelings for Julio he deadass thought he was having a stroke and/or heart attack-
During holidays like Carnaval or New Years, you bet your ass Julio brings Hopper to those celebrations and they always have a great time together
That's what I've got so far. I plan to write a little more since my posting schedule is shit rn. I should post more fjskfnsnfkskfjsk
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AU Shinobu lives (being saved by Tomioka, Kanao and Tanjiro during this fight)
WARNING :COULD CONTAIN SPOILERS ABOUT HER LAST FIGHT
Summary : Shinobu is kind of traumatized by embraces and all kinds (she almost met death during her fight with Douma by he last words), she's going through a lot of panic attacks because of that, so Giyuu is trying to be closer to her in order to make her used to it again :
# Therefore, it leads him to live with her, since they could now that the Slayer Corps didn't exist anymore (as friends at first)
# Which she's very grateful of, Giyuu being the one who could help her going through those panic attacks
# She's even unable to fall asleep on someone else's shoulder, fearing that they would put their arm around her shoulders (and she can barely bear all kinds of embrace)
# But there's THIS time : she fell asleep on Giyuu's shoulder while they were drinking some soothing tea and enjoying the sweet air outside. The former Water Pillar had a small smile and just spend some time looking after her during the evening before taking her to her futon (he didn't lost his amr in this AU)
# He tried to explain her what happened this night (Shinobu had a hard time believing it tbh) and had a plan : practice embraces (they both find this "mission" name ridiculous if you ask)
# He tries to embrace her by asking her how she felt when Douma almost killed her so he wouldn't so the same thing
# When this is about to happen, he always gives her littles warnings "I'll be gentle", "tell me if I must stop", "If you don't want to, that's okay",.... You name it
# When having a panic attack, Giyuu tries to be near her, and is holding her hand as a support, recalling her how strong she really is, deep inside, and she's always been a fighter
# Especially mentionning the now permanent scar on her chest, placing a hand on it, proving that her heart is still beating
# Shinobu felt her tears falling hearing those words, and without second thoughts, she buried herself between Giyuu's arms, crying, and thanking him gratefully before they shared a sweet kiss
# Her now favorite hugs are the Giyuu-Brushing-Her-Scar-Across-Her-Chest-With-His-Fingers ones, since it recalls her how much she fought and that, in the end, being still alive is priceless
God I find it kinda cringe, but don't give a heck x)
My third written post hooray \(*0*)/
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gosh, i wanted to be an author so bad when i was a kid. i went to delete my old abandoned email when i noticed the storage drive had a folder with all my book ideas and i want to share the most fleshed-out, non-fanfic, one here because i have nowhere else to post it and i want to immortalize it in some way. im sorry for the cringe but this is entirely for me
"Ofelia… (WHY I CHOSE MY OWN INTERNET NAME IDK)
…Is what they called her and she didn’t know why.
As she opened her eyes for what felt like the first time in her life, the brown-eyed girl was met with faces she couldn’t recognize but knew she should have.
Ofelia, she heard called out over and over again in the background while tears of joy fell from the eyes of a middle-aged man sat at her bedside, who wore harsh laugh lines on both corners of his mouth and had splotches of blue, green, and purple staining the thin skin beneath his cloudy gray eyes; the tears dampening the cotton blue sheets that encompassed the girl’s fragile limbs. (I STILL LOVE RUN-ON SENTENCES)
Those eyes of his in which she saw pain, hopelessness, and fear; the color, lacking any saturation; so pale and unblemished that they would appear to fade into the white canvas surrounding the iris if it weren’t for the fine blue tint that outlined the gray. Those eyes that she intrinsically knew and brought her immediate comfort. Not the calling of her name, which should sound familiar, or the tight and welcoming embraces from her supposed “loved ones,” but the haunted eyes of a man who claimed to be her father.
While trying to piece together the broken fragments of her memory, the girl named Ofelia discovers terrible truths about herself and the world she lives in.
~PLOT~
Ofelia. No last name.
Father is a visionary. (Can perceive future events in dreams or while in a trance)
Government makes everyone who is a suspected visionary undergo rigorous testing. If they are found as a positive subject, the patient’s melanin is drained from their eyes (they turn pale gray) in order to be identified (naturally gray eyes do not exist for the purpose of this plot) in public. These people are protected at all times and are well respected in society (though they are strictly prohibited from discussing any visions with anyone but government officials in exchange for said protection), but can be targeted by border-hopping criminals (their intentions are to save the people from their corrupt government, but the government makes them the enemy and their people follow). Border-hoppers want to capture visionaries to prove to the other citizens that their future is bleak under their government’s rule.
Subjects who test negative are not spared. These people are killed because the conditions in which they are treated and the tests they go through reveal too much about the corrupt ways of the government that they couldn’t risk letting them go free.
Ofelia is a visionary and gets scary dreams often so her father requests for the tests to be performed on her (her father is one so it is common that children inherit this “gift”).
When Ofelia takes the tests, she doesn’t take them seriously and fails, not knowing of the consequences. While waiting on death row (she does not know that she is awaiting her death), at the same time, her father is trying to convince the president to give his daughter another chance.
Just as the president is about to agree, the room where the ‘negative’ visionaries are held until their death gets a tranquilizing vapor siphoned through the air vents, and they are all dragged out by the Border Hoppers. Ofelia begs to be taken back home, but she is knocked out.
When she awakens, she meets a girl she once knew dressed in border-hopper-attire [WHATEVER THAT IS LOL, I CAN'T PICTURE IT]. Ofelia feels betrayed. The girl tells Ofelia what her government does to those that fail the test and that it was going to happen to her. Ofelia doesn’t believe her so they show her hidden security footage that the border-hoppers stole from the government building (they had an inside man; her father) and she cries.
Her father shows up briefly to reassure her and ask her to help the border-hoppers destroy their government. She was the key.
Ofelia only gets visions in her sleep, so she is sedated for most of the day, only conscious to eat and use the restroom. She almost gives up because she is so weak and tired from being under all the time. Then she encounters a boy, a boy she knew was still living on the other side. They were speaking through their visions but he was not found as a visionary yet.
Together, they slowly reveal all of their government’s secrets and manage to tear down the wall that separated the two states.
But it is not over yet.
FIRST OF ALL, I smell the Divergent trilogy influence as it was one of my favorite book series during this time (2014!!!! can u believe??!?!?) like killing all divergents and tris' mom being in on the whole shebang
Sprinkle in some divided nations specifically from the legend series by Marie Lu (god i loved those books; i bought champion and rebel years ago but have yet to read them :| )
And you see how I set up the idea for a sequel when i never even wrote a single chapter for this one????? i was CONFIDENT
if you read all this, im sorry
#i am turning 24#this was from about ten years ago#i know this is a sims blog but#this was necessary#non sims
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it's @chounaifu's turn to jumpscare me... with positivity!
Rex’s Gardening Service here.
Loamy Soil:
Hi Vetra, what’s it like being the funniest person on this god forsaken website??? Okay but seriously, fuck, you are so FUNNY and you’re SO MUCH FUN to talk to on Discord. When you first followed me on Gold, I was like “no fucking way lol” because I could NOT believe that somebody was RPing such an obscure Creepypasta character! I thought he had been forgotten to the sands of time. I still cannot believe that such a silly joke like Banana Proton has become. . . . Canon lore. This is why I love RP, honestly. You help remind me that not everything has to be serious and rigid— that we’re here to have fun and laugh together. Thanks for making me laugh!
Sun Light:
Let me preface this with: it is SO hard to write muses with horror themes, especially when people are turned off by it. I appreciate your drabbles, and the layers of suspense that are attached to them. I ache for Gold whenever I read them. At the same time, you keep this happy air around him, despite the struggles and hardships he’s faced. It’s a lot of fun. He’s a lot of fun. This blog is a lot of fun. I’m really glad that you’re active here!
Drizzle from the watering can:
Talk about some of your favorite RP threads!
REX WHAT THE HELL THIS IS SO NICE...?
gonna answer the RP threads question under the cut because otherwise this post is gonna get long as hell. this isn't even a comprehensive list of everything.
literally anything with wolf and @koopaklaw (and @peachycrown), to the point where a certain Wolf quote still lives in our heads rent-free.
for that measure, literally anything with my main fox at the time, especially when he came to rescue my wolf (the mun knows who they are but i'm leaving them anonymous so the space furry fandom leaves us alone)
Also ANYTHING with Lucina and Henri's Chrom. Literally both of them being trans was such a big brain move on our parts, tbh, but I think a standout has to be Lucina trying to dance around the Morgans' existence with Chrom to prevent fucking up the timeline.
ALSO LUNEA. SHOUT OUT TO LUNEA. that thread was so good.
Ripley's Byleth and my Edelgard talking about church doctrine and how fucked up it is.
Bri's Ferdinand and my Edelgard post-killing Ludwig von Aegir.
There was a really good Edelgard one I did over Discord DMs. Unfortunately, it was with the antisemitic purple rat's Claude, so that one no longer counts.
Triandra fighting both @madeimpact's Pit AND @sternenteile in different threads because I had to change nOTHING about their lore to make things work. They're so versatile.
@gottgenug's jeralt and my shez, especially the one where jeralt finds out about arval. i love the dad.
Basically all of Reginn and Eitri's threads because Book V of had no right having such good worldbuilding. Also I hadn't written a villain in a while back then so Eitri was a lot of fun.
deep cut here, but my Rowdyruff Boys and @molinguish were. so so good.
Another deep cut, and maybe a weird choice considering the context, but during the ending of 2020 when The Great RPC Fuckening of November went down, a certain thread featuring Bunnie squaring off against the antisemitic purple rat and beating his ass was my happy place for an entire month. If you know, you know.
Gold and ALL of his fellow creepypastas shooting the shit has been so good. We need more creepypastas. It's 2023, embrace the cringe.
Of course, Gold and his little found family of @wariodemambo, @rosadolces, @queenshokora, and Papeeno @thetravelershub (feat. Peepaw @emptyzone).
And, an honorable mention since it wasn't a real thread, but:
YOU. ME. BANANA PROTON.
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Sally the Slicer
Since I’m still figuring out aspects to her other designs, I should properly explain Sally the Slicer to you guys! She’s a fairly old OC (okay, basically all of the GEverse ones are), so she originated from my edgier teenage years… But y’know what? Maybe I should be less afraid of being cringe as an adult. This post is a doozy, which I guess makes sense since within my narrative, Sally is of all things a main protagonist.
Former serial killer, now full-time mercenary and assassin for hire, Sally the Slicer is a notorious name amongst the criminal underworld. Few have seen her face, and don’t know much else other than the fact that she’s torn many victims asunder in particularly brutal ways, so what’s her deal? Where did she come from, what even is she, and what motivates her?
Sally doesn’t really remember much of a past, beyond having once had a physical body, a sensation she dearly misses. She was a Phantom Alliance experiment like so many, and like a few, one of their more successful ones. As I brought up in my post with Monarch Man, the Phantom Alliance figured out how to exploit the soul’s memories of its previous body, the one it grew up in and was accustomed to, and apply that to the new body.
Sally was another one of these experiments, her soul applied to a conglomeration of various bladed weapons, machinery, and tools, for no other reason than Science. Well, that, and the Phantom Alliance was hoping to create a particularly deadly weapon… Not only was Sally made up of these and could form and summon them from herself, but she also needed the motive required to embrace that role.
So before her soul was bound, the Phantom Alliance employed some dark techniques of theirs, as part of their research into altering the mind and personality beyond the constrains of anatomy. How they did it is still pending for me, but… My current working explanation is that they basically shoved Sally’s soul into a whole vortex of other souls, except these belonged to people who had been recorded to have a deep bloodlust and sadism, and seemed to derive joy only from these things.
Exposed to such wrath and emptiness for so long, it had its profound impact on Sally… Or, maybe she was always like that. Maybe they didn’t need to bother ‘altering’ Sally’s personality, and her soul was chosen for this type of lethal body, because Sally always had that type of violent propensity. Maybe Sally wasn’t placed in that vortex to be converted, but to see if she could be used to convert others…
Sally was reborn, with a cold and metallic body that mimicked the texture and properties of a human one, but with none of the feeling. Due to her new body’s inorganic, non-living nature, Sally retained only her senses of hearing, sight, and touch, but with the last one dulled. She could feel the pressure and sensations of interacting with things, but it was more akin to being numb; No actual pain, but also no true feeling.
Sally didn’t need to breathe. She didn’t need to eat, she had no biological processes whatsoever. She couldn’t taste, couldn’t smell, the feeling of the cool wind on her face, or the soft textures of a plush, meant nothing to her. Sally couldn’t die of natural causes because her body wasn’t living to begin with, she was static and in stasis; Functionally immortal. At most, Sally could assimilate metal to repair and regenerate herself, but it was a cold and impersonal process that felt like nothing.
That’s how Sally felt pretty much all the time, as well; No feelings, no sensations. But it was only when exposed to bloodlust and the satisfaction of rendering enemies apart, spilling blood and cutting flesh, that Sally felt things. Those were the only circumstances she felt a spark of joy or feeling, and naturally, she became addicted to that sensation in order to grant a sense of purpose and meaning to her empty shell of an existence.
Sally was directed as an assassin by the Phantom Alliance, but the wait for victims between assignments made her impatient, and likewise she had no love for her captors. Sally eventually escaped and fled into the night, forging her own path and identity… And going on a senseless killing spree, slaughtering an entire path with innocents left in her wake, and even regular animals, just to sate that appetite.
Infamy arose of the serial killer known as the Slicer, a title Sally enthusiastically adopted. Not really having a proper civilian identity and not needing one (Sally was functionally immortal), that just made it even harder to pinpoint the Slicer, as did their mysterious and borderline supernatural nature, appearing out of nowhere before disappearing. If the Slicer had their sights on you, you were as good as dead; They had an inhuman strength, speed, and durability, and seemed practically made of weapons!
…The Slicer’s reign of terror reigned, but after a while, Sally became uncomfortably aware of the pointless destruction of her existence. All she did was take and kill, she provided nothing, merely reduced the world and made it smaller, to what end? So she stopped killing. She became a drifter, looking for some new meaning or purpose to redefine herself. Empathy didn’t come to Sally, but she was still capable of sympathy and compassion and could figure these things out.
Alas, pouring her time into other hobbies didn’t prove as fruitful, they didn’t recreate that same zest for life that killing did. But Sally managed to find some pleasure and enjoyment, and she kept herself in check as a butcher at times, experimenting with those kinds of jobs; Once she made a name for herself under the pseudonym “Sal” at a fishing village, where Sal learned how to cut a mean fillet in record time, and became an expert on fish! But in the end…
It wasn’t enough. Sally tried engaging in the arts, consuming or even creating them, but in the end she preferred to just consume (since what she did produce was rather… disturbing). Every now and then Sally would treat herself, allow herself to indulge in her bloodlust by killing just the one victim. Sometimes she tried to go for other murderers and those who also inflicted misery upon others, but Sally wasn’t kidding herself; She wasn’t a good person, and her vigilantism was hollow.
And that’s when she met Talikal, one of the Escapees. He’d escaped from the Tower of Tears and had begun his own fledging criminal enterprise, a lone wolf from the rest of his fellow prisoners. Sally had singled out Talikal as a target one night, and was perplexed to find herself totally unable to lay even a scratch on him, employing the sharpest and most brutal of her weapons, strength, and tactics against Talikal. But nothing.
Talikal rather liked Sally’s attitude and enthusiasm, and offered her a job. And as someone Sally never had to worry about killing for she couldn’t even if she tried… well, Sally decided, why not? She joined Talikal’s gang, and before she knew it, latched onto Talikal as a genuine friend she looked up to and wanted to protect. As corny as it was, maybe this was what Sally was really looking for… friendship, with those who knew and understood her exactly!
What started off as a reluctant, “Why not” venture became Sally’s newfound purpose in life. She would kill, but for a reason; Sally would dedicate herself to ensure each murder accomplished and contributed to something, even if it wasn’t morally good. Because as long as Sally helped to build and create, be it tangibly or on a more conceptual level, it felt like Sally had something to fight for. And not just something but someone, with Talikal becoming a bit of an older brother figure to her. Tal of course wouldn’t openly admit this, but quickly Sally became a right-hand man of his and trusted confidant.
A recent job eventually led Sally to terrorize the community of Brooker, in order to send a message to the Arkley Gang situated nearby; Talikal gave Sally some freedom to go wild, as a treat! And this led Sally to encounter Lloyd, whom she initially tried to murder… but long story short, the attempt was interrupted by another threat. And between the two, Lloyd sided with Sally the Slicer of all people, and this gesture deeply touched her.
Yes, she had literally just tried to kill this kid, but he chose Sally! He was her first choice, out of some other jerk! They worked together and Sally found a fondness for the kid, and opted to spare his life, reasoning she didn’t have to kill anyone in particular, just a certain number. They departed on good terms, and Lloyd went back to school that day, idly realizing he just befriended a serial killer.
…FORMER serial killer, Sally insists! She’s very particular about it. She sees herself as more a mercenary and assassin now, murder but with purpose! With an assignment, and with someone she’ll dedicate herself towards! Not just her silly old self, Sally’s got at least a little bit of self-loathing, which I guess is fair since she’s murdered countless innocents. But yeah, it was this established contact that encouraged Sally to reach out to Trexdis and her group after they defected from the Arkley Gang and escaped with a few of the students, planning to eventually return and free the rest by killing Arkley themselves.
While Sally is more than eager to welcome Trexdis and her group, for Lloyd is among them… Well, Trexdis’ group is understandably wary of Talikal. Whom, definitely means well for Sally, but also has his own agendas, and may not be totally sincere in how he partners up with Trexdis and the others… He’ll try to spare Sally’s feelings on the way, IF he has to go that route. Maybe, maybe not.
…That’s Sally the Slicer! A classic and admittedly a favorite. Despite looking very petite and pastel, she’s actually a rather crass and grumpy individual with a sailor’s mouth, and carries herself in an almost masculine manner. As a kid I initially intended Sally to be more of a feminine, bat-her-lashes type, but I just had more fun with this take. In truth, I don’t think Sally cares much for gender, she just chose this look as a civilian guise, and then never changed it because why?
She’s got masks, literally and figuratively. There is of course the metal mask she wears as her ‘Slicer’ persona, which in itself is openly sadistic, murderous, cackling and gleeful. Though Sally’s admittedly a bit arrogant at times, so if she’s caught by surprise and inconvenienced, she gets easily flustered and VERY irritated. And as I said, she’s kind of a girlloser, so Sally isn’t immune to falling down a flight of stairs (her body can take a lot of punishment), she’s like… Shiromori from Mystery Skulls, if you want to use a frame of reference. Or Raiden from Metal Gear Rising.
But when Sally isn’t busy being the Slicer… well, she’s just kind of a quiet, withdrawn, and disinterested, comes across as a hostile resting bitch face. She’s a bit of a loner and recognizes that she doesn’t fit in for good reason, she DID try to engage with normal people as just a regular person who wasn’t interested in murder, but it just didn’t work out. As a result, Sally’s a bit jaded and cynical, and when not intense, is just sort of. Vibing, but mostly feeling empty and not particularly happy.
Despite her recklessness and trigger-happy aggression however, Sally does have some self-awareness. She’s reflected a bit on who she is, on her impact on society, how there’s not really anything else that grants the same luster for life as murder. And she’s a bit existentially troubled by this, hence her brief era as a vagabond trying new things. She’s got walls built up, for others and herself, because Sally struggles with the fact that people, again understandably, are repulsed by someone like her.
In truth, she’s a deeply lonely person, she’s only really a young adult and grappling with the traumatic loss of her original body, with something cold and unfeeling. She misses a lot of physical sensations, and wonders if she wouldn’t need to kill if she had those old feelings back. As is, Sally can’t fully justify going on senseless rampages, so she tries to be ‘productive’ and ‘meaningful’ by devoting herself to a cause, in this case Talikal’s.
I think Sally ultimately wants and is looking for friendship, for twisted freaks who understand her, but also understand Sally’s admitted apprehension towards herself and reluctance to just be that, without apology. Maybe she’s looking for help in fixing a problem she recognizes, deep down, without being judged too much for it. Again, not that she blames anyone for judging her, she’s a killer!!!
So underneath that murderous Slicer persona, and underneath that moody, grumpy, and withdrawn front… Sally’s actually surprisingly eager for friendship. She’s learned and studied from those around her how to curb her impulses, how to set inhibitions. Sally struggles with empathy, but by observation, she’s slowly getting the hang of sympathy and compassion, not particularly feeling anything for anyone, but still recognizing that this is bad for them, so she’ll try to help.
Make a friend out of Sally, and you’ve got a devoted friend for life; That’s what Talikal and Lloyd discovered, not really at all intentionally. But they’re willing to return the favor, as awkward as it is on Lloyd’s end, but he does see the opportunity to leverage Sally’s trust to veer her away from murder, which is something she’s noticed and is glad for. Talikal is less moral, but still genuinely interested, deep down, in helping Sally learn how to function as a ‘normal’ person.
Is Sally coming to terms with her darker side to accept and handle it, or is she just in denial, pretending to be someone she’s not? She’s not sure. But one thing she does know is that she WILL fight and especially kill for those she cares about. And amidst the quieter ruminations, Sally is still exaggeratedly vicious and enthusiastic for violence, having to remind herself to tone it down, but in the end she still misses and loves it, as bad as it is. And Sally is often a dumbass brute, who has some rather straight-forward approaches to things. While brilliant when it comes to the art of murder and fillet, Sally has her dingus moments as a grunt/henchman.
Sally’s kind of a messed up, edgy teenager who likes to wear masks like it’s Halloween, except she commits real harm. Sure she’s at least twenty, but growing up as an isolated lab experiment who was trained to be a weapon and only that means you’re not socially learned. Hence, those awkward times where Sally tried to integrate back into society. Sally isn’t all that experienced when it comes to navigating relationships, and admittedly Talikal isn’t the best influence, but given that he genuinely cares, it also still works.
Again, Sally is aware of her inexperience, and conscious of the potential toll she may enact on her ‘friends’, who will of course struggle to rehabilitate Sally, and may strain and even hurt themselves in the attempt. Deep down? Sally’s got some social anxiety and is performing mental calculations to figure out how she can be helpful to her new friends, but due to her own issues, can and has misunderstood the situation and caused trouble as a result; Maybe the only thing she’s good at and for is murder, Sally frustratedly considers!
I briefly brought up Sally’s abilities, so let me provide a bit more focus. Sally looks and feels like a fleshy human, but she’s noticeably cold because she’s actually a soul bound to a whole conglomeration of assorted weapons, tools, and torture devices, all of them bladed and sharp. Sally can manifest them out of her limbs and any part of herself, and due to her strange nature, Sally is much stronger and faster than any human, and can take more damage too.
Being metallic, Sally has actually gotten dents in the past, and if she scrapes a part of herself against a metal surface, sparks will even fly! She can assimilate metal to regenerate damage, and spawn and hurl bladed weapons at people. Punching Sally is like punching metal, and she’s got surprising heft and weight despite her small frame, but she’s also plenty agile too.
As I said, I’m figuring out Sally’s ‘other designs’, so to elaborate; I know how she looks as a casual civilian. But Sally’s got an in-between state, where a lot of her bladed weaponry emerges, basically how she dresses and presents for combat; And then there’s her elusive true form fully revealed, which I’m saving for a special moment in the narrative. I’m still working on the designs of both to this day, and while I’ve come up with a past look for Sally’s in-between state, I’m not satisfied with it anymore.
Sally the Slicer! A classic favorite. She’s edgy, murderous, vicious. She’s also a moody teenager, because while she’s technically older than that, she never grew up with proper socialization. She’s painfully aware of and struggling with her cursed existence, and trying to remedy it. She’s secretly socially anxious despite the crass aggression she puts up. She’s a loyal and devoted friend, she has hyperfixations about Hannibal Lecter and Jigsaw! She’s also a violent girlloser who jumps in before anyone else to fight and kill, only to get run over by a bus because she didn’t look both ways before crossing the street. I love her.
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Life is what happens when you start writing again...
Long time no see. Almost 10 years. I don't even know where to start or why I forgot about you.
Certainly, life happened. I am in my 30s now. Looking back at these posts I thought I would feel ashamed or some sort of cringe, but the reality is that I was quite impressed (not by my grammar of course)... I was impressed by how honest and transparent I was. I could call me out in a sec! Tell to myself what was wrong, and not judge me so hard for it. I was happy to see too I was naive, and a dreamer. Thank you for that! I guess, that's why I am where I am now.
And where am I? It is difficult to say, honestly.
Of course, my answer won't be simple, I am sitting. In every sense. It kinda feels like I am waiting for something to happen. I've been working towards my dreams and I have reached many, and now I want more. Let me be more clear. I want more depth. I want certainty (which is a loss cause if I ask it to the universe, after all, I've come to learn that life is most of all: uncertain). But I want to feel sure about me. I want to embrace these changes and not hold back amid my constant delusion of fear of rejection and failure.
This was what happened. I've experienced so much in life. I've traveled, I've laughed, I've even loved. But I want more, I want to travel more, to laugh more, to love more, to embrace what I have in life more.
"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."
— Oscar Wilde
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Your Favorite — Part 1
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same...
Category: SMUT (18+)
Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅)
Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST
DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.
NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.
———
JUNE 5th
I hate my mom's new boyfriend.
For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.
And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.
It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.
I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.
But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.
And I hate him.
His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.
He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.
I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.
Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.
And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"
She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.
But I can't tell her that, obviously.
And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.
"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."
JUNE 19th
It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.
I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...
I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.
We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.
It's Spencer.
I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.
Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.
But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.
Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.
It's truly pathetic.
So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.
And I most definitely do not want that.
In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.
So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.
When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.
It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.
Fuck!
I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.
This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.
And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.
But it's only been two weeks.
And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...
I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.
———
I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.
Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.
Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.
The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.
"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.
And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"
Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.
"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.
He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.
"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."
I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"
The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.
"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."
Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...
That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...
He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."
I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."
Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.
Big mistake.
His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.
"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.
It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.
It also makes me incredibly stupid.
An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.
"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.
I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.
"Is it working?"
This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.
That has to be it.
So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.
And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.
Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...
Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.
But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.
I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.
Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.
———
When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.
Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?
Wrong.
It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.
But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.
Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.
It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.
That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.
It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.
———
There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.
"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.
"Can I come in?"
"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.
He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.
"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.
And that's when it starts to click into place.
There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.
He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...
But fuck, it excites me.
I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.
"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.
I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.
He must have heard me in the shower.
Right?
I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.
"So you heard me, huh?"
I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.
I've caught him. And he knows it.
"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.
Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.
It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."
The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.
Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.
Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.
But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.
They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.
He's nervous.
To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.
"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"
His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."
He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.
"Spencer?" I call out.
He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.
"I'm sorry, too..."
No the fuck I'm not.
Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.
Still, he only nods and retreats.
All there's left to do is see what happens.
JUNE 25th
For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.
To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.
My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.
But I still can't shake him entirely.
Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.
I wish I could say that I hate it.
But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.
Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.
I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.
I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.
"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.
Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.
And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.
Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.
I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.
"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.
"You're acting this way on purpose."
Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.
"What do you mean?"
"Y/N..."
My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"
Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.
But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.
I have to know for sure.
So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."
Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.
When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.
Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.
Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.
But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.
"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.
I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."
He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."
I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.
Besides... If my theory is right...
"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"
"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."
"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"
This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."
I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.
He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.
I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.
Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.
I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.
Now there's just one more bill to take care of.
I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.
I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.
Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.
I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)
But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.
My Sweethearts,
I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!
XOXO,
Eve/Mom
I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.
Perfect.
But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.
The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.
The lavender panties.
As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.
That's right. When.
I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.
"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."
It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.
"Sure."
He disappears and then I wait.
One...
Two...
Three.
I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.
My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.
My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.
Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.
He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.
I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.
And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.
And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.
"You come fast."
Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.
"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."
"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."
He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.
"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."
This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."
"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."
He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.
"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."
"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."
My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."
"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.
When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."
Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.
"It's too late for that..."
My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.
"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."
A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."
He swallows. "Don't what?"
"Don't stop yourself."
I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.
His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.
And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.
That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.
The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.
And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.
"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."
I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.
"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"
He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.
He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"
The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.
I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.
"Do your worst..."
———
Turns out he was very true to his word.
Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.
She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.
Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.
"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"
His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.
"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"
He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.
"I wished it was yours..."
My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.
I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.
"Here's what's going to happen..."
He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.
"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."
Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.
I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.
"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"
Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.
"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."
He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."
His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.
I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.
———
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An Impostor In Love
Sequel to ‘Love For The Faceless’ (’Body Reveal’)
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Swearing (maybe)
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Rae can’t stay mad at her best friends forever. Them being absolutely adorable doesn’t help her ‘pissed off’ act either. Y/N’s outing Corpse like she’s a human lie detector. Corpse is gushing about her every second word that comes out of his mouth. And the rest of the lobby are getting one hell of a kick out of the Among Us romantic comedy - An Impostor In Love
Requested but, once again, not in a typical way. I honestly wasn’t expecting all the positive feedback I got for Love For The Faceless (Body Reveal). I was star-struck! You guys are so amazing I have no words to describe just how much I love you all! Thank you for everything! This story is for all of you 🥰🥰🥰
“Mr. and Mrs. ‘Totally not dating’ have entered the call!“ Sean announces when I hop into the Discord call to play Among Us with the usual gang. I hear Corpse’s laugh from down the hall, bringing a smile to my face.
We’ve gotten used to playing in this arrangement, a few rooms away from each other, ever since we moved in together - Corpse is in his recording room and I am in our shared bedroom. When one dies, they go in the other’s room to troll them. I’m usually the one dead, but that’s besides the point.
“Hi everyone!“ I say in my typical cheery tone before kicking it done a few notches, making it an octave deeper just to say: “Hi Rae.”
The whole lobby laughs, they all know what I’m trying to do here. Everyone’s aware this is the first time Rae is in the same call and lobby as Corpse and I after you-know-which incident. Sure, I’ve been poking sticks at her, waving a white flag and admitting I was wrong several times by now. Who knew my sweetheart best friend could act so cold? I know it’s a front. I know she’s fighting to stay mad. There’s a ton of pressure on her to finally forgive us, but she’s been holding up better than I would be if I were in her situation.
I honestly felt, and still feel, slightly guilty. I know best friends are supposed to tell each other everything. They are supposed to be the first ones to know whatever’s going on in each other’s lives. And I know I broke one of the main rules of friendships, but the decision wasn’t only mine to make. I’m sure she understands where I’m coming from, she’s just giving me and Corpse a hard time.
“Hello, Y/N.” She replies, her tone strictly formal.
“Progress, people! Progress!“ I say joyously, the smile turning into a grin
“Don’t worry, babe. We’ll get her eventually.“ Corpse reassures me as he’s done for the past week or two. He knew I wasn’t as unbothered by Rae’s anger towards me as I tried to appear - a pro and simultaneously a con of living with someone: they pick up on everything about you. You become as familiar to them as the back of their hand.
“I know, I know.“ I giggle, “She’ll cave.“
“Yeah, good luck with that.“ Rae has dropped the formal tone, now sounding like a stubborn child which is something I’m way more familiar with. I’ve dealt with her tantrums and childish outbursts - I don’t know which number it is, but it’s somewhere in the rule book of friendships - and I at least the approximate meaning behind it.
Ken puts an end to our friendly, stick-poking, sorta one-sided banter, ushering us to start the game. We all oblige, muting our mics and getting our heads in the game as though we’re about to enter an actual warzone with upmost stealth.
To my dismay, the screen flashes ‘Crewmate’. I head out of cafeteria to do my task in Weapons, staying weary of anyone within my proximity. Once I’m done, I head on down to Shields and complete my task there as well. I cringe when I’m done, knowing my last three tasks are in Electrical. Like, the fuck kind of luck do I have?
I make my way through the halls, running into Sykkuno and we circle around each other a few times to show we’re safe before we each continue our own way. I enter Electrical and.....oh Felix is dead. And oh lookie who’s right there...
I report the body before the impostor can and we all unmute our mics.
“Found him in Electrical.“ I say nonchalantly, “Didn’t see anyone in there though.“
“Anyone sus?“ Sean asks
We say our ‘no’s and ‘I don’t know’s and skip the vote. I’m smirking to myself as I head back down to Electrical. Walking in, I see the same person as before - Rae. I stop dead in my tracks and we just stare at each other for a few seconds before she comes towards me, circling me twice, bumping visors with me and venting out of the room.
“You’re welcome.“ I mumble, smiling widely.
I finish my tasks and leave Electrical just as Corpse enters our bedroom, giving me this tired-parent look like he’s half disappointed and half amused. “You just threw the game, didn’t you? Don’t lie.” He raises his eyebrows, fully adopting his parent role.
I giggle, shaking my head, sending him the briefest of glances before my eyes fixate on the screen in utter shock - Sean just killed me. Oh, for fuck’s sake...
“I was gonna come clean eventually, but I guess they won’t hear it from me now.“ I shrug, lifting my laptop and setting it aside so Corpse can join me on the bed. I snuggle up to him immediately, drawn to him as though he’s a human magnet.
“Who was it?“ He asks me, running his hands through my hair in a soothing manner.
I frown, pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, “Wait, how did you know I threw the game if you don’t know who I threw it for?”
He smirks, shrugging, “I didn’t know. You were smiling downright evilly when I came in so I just assumed.” He boops my nose. “And you ratted yourself out.”
I narrow my eyes at him, blowing some air out my nose - a gesture that has become my only way of showing anger towards him. I literally can’t even voice when I’m upset with him cause the grudge lasts like .5 seconds. I let him get away with more than he should.
Seeing as how I can’t argue to his statement, I lean back into his chest and pull out my phone to pass the time while I pretend to give him the silent treatment. Among my notifications is one for Rae’s stream. I smile and tap it, being taken to her YouTube channel and her live stream.
Just when the stream loads, Rae finds my dead body in Storage.
“Oh, nooooooo! Y/N!“ She wines as she goes over to it, “Sean must’ve killed her.” She reports the body and unmutes herself in game, “The body’s in Storage. I was on my way to call an emergency meeting cause I saw Sean vent in Security.”
“WHAT?!“ Sean exclaims in shock, “I didn’t! Rae’s lying. I swear I didn’t! I wasn’t even in Security!“
“Sean has been following me around this whole time. Just saying.“ Ken joins the discussion, throwing even more suspicion on Sean.
“We gotta vote someone.“ Charlie says, “Might as well be the most sus person at the moment.“
The voting results show all the little astronaut icons on Sean except his which is on Rae. Sean gets launched into space and the game continues. Having muted her mic in-game, Rae speaks up: “Y/N has been avenged. No one kills my best friend.”
I’m staring at my phone screen, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, a huge smile on my face. I take a glance at Corpse out of the corner of my eye and see he’s just as pleasantly surprised as I am.
“For those of you asking if I’m still mad at her and Corpse, the answer’s no. Actually, I think I was never mad. I was just in shock and a little hurt that I wasn’t made aware sooner.“ Rae says as she keeps wandering around the map, “Then I realized not talking to my best friend hurt more than the betrayal, you know. The only reason I still pretend is because it’s really funny to see her trying to soften me up.“ She laughs, “But yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without her or Corpse in my life. I love them both and love them even more together. My best friends are dating, I still can’t wrap my brain around that! They are sooo cute, you guys! I wish they posted more content of them together. I’m literally simping over their relationship! But shh, don’t tell em I said that.”
I laugh, overjoyed by what I just heard. I knew she couldn’t still be mad at us. I know she has every right to be, but she’s too sweet to actually hold a grudge against anyone ever.
I suddenly want nothing more than to give her an enormous hug and hold onto her for as long as she’d let me. I just now realize how lonely it feels to have never hugged your best friend because you haven’t hung out together in person. The only reason Rae now knows what I look like is because I sent her a full body picture of myself as one of my sad attempts to get her to start talking to us again. We have never met in person, and that thought kills me. It makes me impatient for this pandemic to end even more than before.
“Told you there was nothing to worry about.“ Corpse’s arms tighten their hold on my body, pulling me even closer which I didn’t know was possible. The most fulfilling and endearing feeling - being in the arms of a loved one. Being held so close and so tightly that you feel like you’re untouchable. Like you two can’t be hurt by anything in the world as long as you have each other.
“Yeah, you were right.“ I sigh in content, putting my phone down and covering his hands with mine, our rings clinking quietly when they touch.
“As usual...“ he whispers theatrically with his lips against my hair.
I playfully roll my eyes, catching glimpse of the screen showing Rae’s demise.
“Oh no, they caught her.“ I say, a bit disappointed she didn’t win and more than a bit responsible for her defeat.
I somehow manage to convince myself to get untangled from Corpse’s embrace and join the new round. I hear him groan as I settle my computer in my lap, unmuting my mic.
“See ya, kitten.“ Corpse kisses my temple, standing up.
“Oh my God, you two are too cute.“ Poki says sweetly, having heard what Corpse said to me.
“SIMP!“ Sean and Felix shout in unison causing the whole lobby to laugh. Corpse is as red as Rae’s avatar as he exists our room, running down the hallway.
“Ok, ok, ok. Hold on. I have to address this. I really hadn’t stepped foot in Security, let alone vented in there. Rae why were you lying?“ Sean’s voice cuts through the teasing directed towards Corpse and I.
“While we’re on that topic...“ Felix speaks up as well, making me break out in a nervous sweat, “Y/N, you literally saw Rae kill me, but you said you didn’t see anyone.“ He laughs, “Not gonna lie, I was a bit pissed.“
The call falls silent for about five seconds until Rae and I speak simultaneously.
“I was avenging Y/N.“
“I was helping Rae.“
Silence follows our statements, not for long though, as our friends break out in amused laughter.
“Fuck’s sake, you two make a good team.“ Sean says through genuine laughter which Rae and I soon join him in.
Felix and Sean and the rest of the lobby forgive us for throwing the game from both the crewmate and impostor’s side and we move onto another round. This time I have only one task in Electrical which I leave for last as always. I don’t feel like dying right from the get-go. I start by doing the card swipe in Admin and then the fuel task in Storage. As I make my way to Upper Engine, Corpse leaves Electrical, falling in step with me. I immediately get nervous, but still make my way to where I’m supposed to go, hoping he’d go his own way eventually.
I stay wary of my boyfriend as I do my task, praying he won’t take my head off. When the task is finished, I find I’m trapped in the room with the doors shut. And Corpse right there. With every right and opportunity to kill me and vent. No one would know. No one saw us.
That nervous sweat is back.
I’m counting my last seconds of being alive.
And it happens...
A body is reported
“Oh than you so so so much! Corpse was gonna kill me in Upper Engine!“ I don’t let the person who reported the body speak, thanking them for my survival. “I was sure I was a goner.“
“Babe, come on now. You know I wouldn’t kill you even if I was an impostor. I love you too much.“ Corpse hurries to defend himself, “I’m following you around to keep you safe.“
I can tell he’s capping, but I have no concrete proof. He knows I’m onto him. His best bet is having me killed by the other impostor. He might have been capping the majority of his defense, but I know he won’t kill me.
“I’ll vote for myself because of that one.“ I mumble
The vote is skipped except the one vote I placed on myself and the round continues. I follow Corpse around the whole time, making sure he’s completing tasks - not that I can be 100% certain he’s actually completing them.
All is well until we walk into Admin and find Felix there, uploading data. Corpse, dead-ass, goes up to him and kills him, reporting the body right afterwards.
“IT’S CORPSE!“ I don’t give him a chance to start his brainwashing of the rest of the players. “Felix, this is my redemption for leaving your death unavenged last round.“
“Yeah, it’s me.“ Corpse laughs, that adorable laugh of his melting me despite the need to stay strong and carry out my argument, “Just vote me out so I can go troll Y/N.“
“Sounds like a plan to me.“ Ken says, the remainder of the crewmates, and the impostor probably, agreeing with him.
The votes are put in, all on Corpse obviously, and he is sent off into space. Not even five seconds later I hear his footsteps approaching.
I look up when he pops his head in the room and says, “I have come to annoy you to death with my love for you.”
I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. The things this man does to me are insane. It’s insane that I let him.
It’s amazing, really. We’re amazing.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I pat the spot on the bed next to me, “I’ll allow it. But only cause I love you too.”
@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis
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Hi Storm,
Please bear with as i am new stan of bts.
In jimin vlive he mentioned that he is so awkward during the debut days and he shouldn't have lied to us instead of bluffing. What do you think about that? Are the bts bombs fake ??
Sorry of i have asked something wrong
Hello, This is a loaded question. You are new so it's okay, and sure we can talk briefly over this.
What Jimin said wasn't that he lied to us, but that he was pretending. There is a difference in that word choice and what it comes down to was his self confidence and ease in front of a camera. He talks about his journey of self love and acceptance and his past self multiple times over the years, here is a short video that complied a few of those times:
youtube
He was given this tough overly confident sexy muscly yet cute guy persona. He was a kid trying to act like he knew what he was doing and was confident on camera when he instead felt very awkward filming and talking into a camera. He wasn't lying. He was still being him, he was just faking confidence instead of actually feeling confident.
You can easily see his immediate awkwardness at the camera coming up to him when he was just sitting there playing with the toy and you always see him immediately try to cover up that awkwardness and play it off:
youtube
Verse more current content when even when he gets taken off guard with the camera, he is in general more relaxed in front of it, more at ease and more comfortable just continuing what he was doing. The confidence there is true, it's real. He is more comfortable with who he is now. Even with it being a similar scenario.
2020 Vmin playing together on a break, you see the difference. How Jimin is more relaxed, more able to just continue vibing with his friend, doesn't feel the need to try and engage the camera directly but is more comfortable just existing and being in front of it
youtube
He was in essence talking about how in his effort to try and be cool, be tough, be confident and push through his awkwardness that he felt on camera, he felt like he was trying too hard. Lol and honestly can you tell me which person has ever looked back at the things you did on camera wirh friends or posted about as a teenager don't make you cringe at times? It wasn't you being a liar or not authentic, it was just you being young and trying to be the coolest you that you think is what other people think is cool.
2013 Jimin pretending to "seduce" the camera:
youtube
Verse 2019 Jimin actually just comfortable looking into the camera and his charms making the camera woman blush and have to walk away. It's not only that he is much better at now, its that it comes more natural and he is more comfortable doing it and being himself now too
youtube
It's the glow up people talk about it, but it's a glow up of confidence and being comfortable in your own skin. It's also probably a significant amount of training and getting used to being in front of cameras to the point where you are less awkward about it and more comfortable just living with a camera shoved in your face all the time. None of it is fake, it's just being more comfortable not forcing things on camera or for the camera.
It's all been him, it's always been him. He is just more relaxed and letting the persona drop more now. I hope this all makes sense and is a little helpful. He was never inauthentic, he was just trying to present the sides of himself that he thought the fans would want to see and now he is just, embracing the awkward when he feels it instead of trying to pretend it's not there, and living life how he wants.
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our question boils down to, “has there been an intentional plural archetyping going on in June’s system?”, but with this addendum for context. we’ve been doing a lot of reading about “Gatekeeper” archetypes, and X seems to have a lot of those characteristics. so we’re curious how much of that had more to do with the incidental outcome of writing a character like them / if at any point it wasn’t intentioned, but then became intentioned / other. really curious about the evolution of the process 💜
the short answer is no. the long answer is also no, but i’m gonna say more anyway.
i haven’t talked much about my own relationship with plurality. there’s a variety of reasons, but one of the big ones is that i’ve been afraid to expose the various pieces of myself to the world lest folks decide that i’m doing it wrong or that i fall into some kind of toxic dynamic or, worse, that by virtue of talking about my own plurality in public, that makes me some kind of expert or “community leader” in the eyes of folks outside hs/plural circles. maybe this seems like a self-absorbed sentiment, but it already happened to me once with being a trans woman! i don’t like it when folks project their morals onto what they think they know about me, because i simply cannot live up to them. i’m too bitchy, too angry, too full of opinionated snark, and the story i want to tell with godfeels 3.2 is one that will skirt dangerously close to a lot of potentially problematic subjects. no matter how careful i am, it’s only a matter of time before i say or do something that pisses the wrong people off. again, it’s happened before. and i just don’t want any aspect of my plurality to be part of whatever that conversation/dogpile ends up being (because let’s be real, folks are NOT normal about plurality in most spaces and are really eager to use it as proof of one’s antisocial derangement).
with that out of the way, i’m gonna talk a little bit about my own plurality here, because it’s relevant.
i said in my post announcing june’s canonical plurality that my hesitation in embracing it was partially because of my hesitation embracing my own plurality. i knew people in high school who were plural (though that term didn’t really exist yet afaik), and i mostly found them obnoxious and cringe. i never said anything mean to them or mocked them out loud, and in fact one of my best friends at the time had a woman in his head for a while... wow, damn, i forgot about this actually, me and her talked a lot back then, i was there with her when she decided to stop existing and i guess reunified with my friend? and i said for years after, “i think most people are lying about DID/multiple personalities but i know at least one person it was real for.” you know, i bet i believed him and disbelieved everyone else because “everyone else” were women lmao. god i was such an asshole
anyway uh, my judgmental nature throughout my teens and twenties came out of being a closeted autistic trans woman who worked VERY hard to understand what “normal” is for the in-group i was told to be part of (ie gamer bros and jocks). this shit got really fucking deep into my head, and i spent maybe four or five years just actively trying to not be like that anymore. and i’m still finding leftover bad habits and bad takes every day lmao. this is why it took me until 27 to realize i was trans, and until 31 to realize i was plural. turns out the people you most harshly judge, especially in your twenties, quite often are the people who remind you most of yourself! in my experience, anyway.
so, okay. when i decided to take June’s plurality seriously is around the time i decided to take my own plurality seriously, and so June’s system and my system are uniquely intertwined. i deliberately avoided learning the terminology before writing the Dirk and Risk/Dare chapters because i didn’t want the defined archetypal tendencies to override any given character’s personality. if i’d known what a “persecutor” was, for instance, i can see myself having made a lot of different choices about both Angel Dirk and X.
one of my headmates is, i guess, technically an ex-persecutor by definition? but that’s never how i saw her, really, and i think if i’d started from a place of learning other people’s models of plurality i might not have been so open to the mea culpa we had which finally forced me to accept her and my other headmates as real. they’d been piping up more and more as gf3.1 went on, and it scared me. if i’d known more, known that there existed a defined archetypal dynamic for our relationship (including a multitude of different but equally bad suggestions re: what to do about it) i might have let that fear lead me to treating them even worse than i already did. but maybe not! these things are impossible to know. my experience with first questioning my gender, however, was that the prevailing models of transness simply did not fit with my experience- so i anticipated that the same would likely hold true of my plurality in that i needed to engage with it on my own terms and find out what it meant for me, rather than understanding it as a scientific or sociological phenomenon. setting aside what i thought was “real” and what i could or couldn’t “prove” in favor of just feeling it out.
so here’s the thing. my experience of plurality is fluid, blended, and often ambiguous. it’s rare for anyone but “me”, sarah, to front, and when they do i’m still never quite gone. during the hell of the last four months, when we were applying to apartments left and right, i had such a nervous breakdown that my ex-persecutor did in fact take over for a couple days. but it’s not like i don’t remember doing what she did. so naturally there’s a part of me that’s always like, is this actually real? or is this just an idea i’m using to help me survive?? ultimately i’ve decided that the answer doesn’t really matter. whatever it is, it works for me. and it turns out my headmates give good advice sometimes! who knew
what i wanted with June’s system was to imagine plurality as fueled by the infinite creative power over reality inherent to her retcon powers. it is, in a lot of ways, a vision of my “ideal” plurality, one in which every member has complete independence yet is inextricably connected, where anyone can front and anyone can recede into obscurity as they desire, and where “headspace” as such is a field of endless creative and metaphorical possibility. from there, i wanted to give all four of them the chance to define their own personalities independent of whatever role they might play in the system archetypally-speaking. and i think the result of this is a group of characters who clearly constitute pieces of a whole, but in such a way that shows the “whole” is not lesser for being quadfurcated. it is, in fact, far stronger for its diversity of selves!
to bring all of this together, the whole point of going about June’s plurality (and mine) in this way was to avoid inadvertently medicalizing her system. i’m not particularly interested in plurality as a “condition” in the clinical psychology sense. i think some writers, when they actively choose to write someone as part of a marginalized identity they aren't themselves a part of or educated about, can take their supposed responsibility to create “good representation” far too seriously and too literally. good representation doesn’t try to be good representation, it just is. a plural person is not only a plural person, same as a trans person is not only a trans person. when writers TRY to make an interesting character with DID, for instance, they almost always fall into the trap of exclusively relying on medical literature without ever really questioning whether the medical establishment knows what the fuck it’s talking about, without seemingly any awareness of just how deliberately the DSM is positioned as a first and foremost capitalist psychological framework. they’re so obsessed with getting it “right” in some objective sense that they end up completely showing their ass over it, because there is simply no facet of human identity which can be objectively isolated and quantified with 100% accuracy. i will take a dozen poorly researched portrayals that treat their protagonist’s internal reality with empathy and respect over a “representative” homunculus defined solely by how their “condition” impacts their ability to function in normal society and how that’s really sad and tragic or maybe it’s very funny and silly but what it never is is just one character trait among many. it’s never a locus for examining unjust marginalization; in most contemporary narratives on the subject of plurality, even empathetic ones, their marginalization is a matter of safety that is ultimately as good for the marginalized as it is for everyone around them. attempts at "good representation" only ever seem to result in representation that is palatable for its intended audience of cishet neurotypical white people.
so, no, i didn’t do any intentional plural archetyping with June’s system, because i wanted these characters to show me who they were on their own terms, and because godfeels as a narrative is opposed to the tyranny of imposed archetypes (whether cultural or macrocosmic). but also, it’s kinda cool that they fit some broad archetypes anyway! that, to me, is evidence that i probably made the right call in taking this approach.
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