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taegimood · 5 months

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— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

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yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?”

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it��s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

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doitforbangchan · 2 months

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For the long haul - Lee Know

Thank you to @jehhskz for another wonderful request. I appreciate you so much sweetheart

Masterlist

Lee know x Reader (afab)

Warnings: Cursing, angst, smut, unprotected sex but reader on birth control, dom!Minho, mean!Minho, Fingering, kissing, hickeys, enemies to lovers, fluff, pet names

WC: 2.8k

MDNI 18+

This could not possibly get any worse.

“Could you stop breathing so fucking loud?”

Correction, now it couldn’t get any worse.

Your professor just had to pair you with Minho, knowing very well how much he hated you. You both were in the same theater program at your university, and Minho had decided he hated you your very first semester when you got a better score on a dance performance than him. He was a petty son of a bitch and didn’t forget nor forgive, thus had been metaphorically shitting on you almost daily for 4 years.

I guess what he didn’t count on was you could play that game too. When he bit -you bit harder, when he ran his mouth you were right there with a rebuttal. He loved to point out your flaws, trying to get a rise out of you. You would never admit how his words hurt you.

Truthfully you had a crush on Minho back then. How could you not? He was beautiful. Sharp features, dark cat like eyes, lips that looked so soft. Oh don't even get started on his body. The boy had abs that were drool worthy.

Not like any of that mattered when he was a colossal asshole to you. Like he was being right now. Currently you were both sitting next to each other on a plane, on a class trip to London to see Shakespeare's theater. Your teacher had selected trip partners, meaning he was stuck with you for the next week. Here on the plane and in the hotel room when you were in London.

Yippee

“Can you mind your own fucking business?” You rebutted, shutting your eyes tighter and leaning back further into your seat. It was bad enough you were stuck next to him for 6 more hours but he really would not shut the fuck up.

“Maybe I would if you would close your mouth when you sleep.” He was grouchy, probably feeling similarly to you.

“Whatever Minho.” You put your headphones over your ears and your eye mask on, blocking him out completely. Though you knew the possibility of a nap while seated next to him was next to zero. If you hadn’t put your mask on you might not have missed the way he gulped when you said his name. Wouldn’t have missed the effect you had on him.

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After that greuling 12 hour flight you had finally made it to your destination. And just as you predicted, you got zero sleep on the flight. Though you pretended to sleep to avoid the man that was next to you. At least it was night time in England by the time you made it off the plane, around 10pm. Meaning you were headed straight for the hotel and right to bed. In a bed directly next to Minho..

Your one moment of peace came when your group got on the bus to the hotel, you were able to snag a seat away from him. It was at this moment you were able to reflect on the situation. It really was unfortunate that Minho was such a jerk to you, there was a part of you that still harbored that crush on him from your freshman year. You had seen him be kind to others, you knew he had it in him. Just not for you.

Kinda broke your heart a little bit.

Pulling up to the hotel you knew your peace was over. You were purposefully the last person off the bus, grabbing your room key from your teacher - who for some reason seemed way too smug when she wished you a goodnight- and slowly made your way up with your bags in tow.

You stood in front of the room door, bracing yourself for the onslaught you were sure to receive when you entered, took a deep breath and opened the door. Minho was already in there, putting his clothes into the drawers next to his claimed bed. Of course he chose the one next to the window.

He didn't acknowledge you when you walked in and set your stuff down on your bed. You took out a pair of your pjs and waited a moment before asking, “Did you want to shower first or do you mind if I?”

He didn’t offer you a verbal answer, instead just waving his hand at you to go ahead. You guessed that was better than being mean to you so you collected your clothes and went into the bathroom.

You took your time in the shower, the hot water helping you escape reality, though the water pressure sucked. While you were in there you could hear a faint voice talking back in your room. These walls must have been realllllly thin, since you could pick up pieces of a conversion Minho seemed to be having, but you didn’t hear anyone elses voice so he must be on the phone.

You were only getting a few words.

‘I dont know how-’ ‘stuck with her’ ‘fucked up’ ‘control’ was all you were able to get before you realized you may have been in there too long.

As you shut the water off you heard Minho say “I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

You dressed and brushed your teeth before exiting the bathroom. Minho let out a scoff when you entered the room “Took you long enough. Did the princess need some pampering?” He was condescending with his words. He grabbed his own pjs before walking past you.

Before he could close the door to the bathroom you blurted out “Why do you hate me so much?” there was a crack in your voice. He seemed to freeze and stare at your back. You were facing away from him when you asked it, thankfully so or he would have seen how your bottom lip wobbled when you asked it.

Minho gave you no answer, only softly closing the door and locking it behind him.

When he shut himself in you let a few tears slip out. You put your dirty clothes away before climbing into your bed and burying your face into your pillow, to hide the tears that steadily leaked from your eyes.

It seemed he too took his time, as it was about 30 minutes before he came out to your curled up form hidden under your covers. He could tell you were crying by the small shakes emitting from your form every few seconds. Minho ran his hand over his face before approaching you slowly, and took a seat on the edge of your bed. You felt the bed dip but didn’t say anything or look at him. Until he spoke first.

“I..I don't hate you.” His voice was soft. The softest you had ever heard, as if he was afraid to speak.

You wiped your eyes before uncovering your face enough to peer at him, “Then why.. If you don’t hate me, why do you treat me like you do?”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair nervously, “It started because I was…jealous. Jealous that such a pretty and well liked girl was doing better than me, better than me at my passion. It came so naturally for you. While I had to work so hard. It drove me crazy.” He wasn't looking at you while he said it. You took a beat before answering.

“You think I'm pretty?”

He spun his head around to look at you in disbelief “ That's what you focused on?!”

You pulled yourself out of the blankets, “I mean, I never meant for you to feel like you weren't enough, Minho.” You brought yourself closer to him but not touching. “ I always thought you were an incredible dancer. I actually strive to be as good as you are. Strive to be good enough for you.”

He looked into your eyes “You are good enough. It’s me that's the problem. I didn’t know how to properly manage my own feelings and by the time I figured it out we already had this hostile dynamic. And I haven't been fair to you with the way I’ve been treating you.” He had shame on his face.

“No you haven’t.” You agreed. “But I havent been a saint to you either. That's not how you treat someone that you.. That you like.”

“You like me? After all we’ve done and said to each other, you like me?” He asked incredulously. You nodded and covered your face with your hands, embarrassed at admitting it to him. “Hey don't hide.” He reached out and took your hands in his, pulling them from your red face. “ I guess now would be a good time to tell you that…. I like you too, have since the day I first saw you in class.”

At his words your brain short circuited and before you knew what you were doing you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his shocked lips. You pulled away quickly after registering exactly what you had just done.

“Oh my god I am so sorry Mi-” He cut you off by crashing his lips back into yours, encapturing you into him.

You moaned lowly into his mouth when he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, as if asking for permission. He shoved the appendage into your mouth immediately claiming dominance over you. He brought his hand up to the side of your neck where he gripped lighty, angling your head to his liking so he could shove himself further into you.

After a few seconds he released you, biting on your bottom lip as he went.

“Tell me what you want, baby girl.” His voice was raspy. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

“I want all of you, Minho. Everything.”

He groaned, his eyes darkening with desire. He gave you a smirk “Oh I’ll give it to you alright. If you need me to stop or if it gets too much for you, say ‘red’ and I’ll stop.”

“Yes minho.” You nodded, ready for him. The wetness between your legs was growing by the second.

“That's a good girl.” He pushed you down onto your bed and climbed over you, attaching his mouth back on to yours. This time it was all teeth mashing against your own. It was downright dirty, the way his tongue bossed its way into you. He wasted no time in finding the hem of your shirt and lifting it up over your head, then he threw it somewhere without a care.

He groaned when his rough hands made contact with your bare breasts. “Mmm no bra?” He mumbled. “Bet if I go lower I’ll find you're not wearing any panties under these dainty shorts huh?” With one hand still groping your chest the other slithered down your waist and into the front of your sleep shorts where he was right- you had no panties on. “Fuck you are a dirty girl huh? Almost like you knew I would wanna fuck you tonight? Hm?”

You shook your head, “Just don’t wear them to bed is all Min, promise.” You gasped when his pointer finger made contact with your clit, the digit starting to rub slow circles on the nub.

“Hmm I don't think I believe you baby girl.” He tutted, “I think subconsciously you are a little freak who wanted me to fuck her. Well let me share another secret with you, so am I.”

Minhos mouth left bruising kisses on your neck while he played with your core, after a particularly hard suck he took the finger that was down there and shoved it into your hole, causing you to moan loudly.

“Min-minho!”

“Shhh babygirl, don’t want anyone to hear you huh? People are trying to sleep.” He was teasing you with his words. He added another finger to your heat, curling them up to find that sweet spot that made you see stars. He kept at this for a few minutes, coating his fingers in your juices.

You could tell he was struggling though, as every so often he would rut against the bed looking for any friction.

“Min..” You were able to get out between squeaks. "Wanna- wanna ride you, Min.”

At your words he bit into the skin he was suckling on your neck, causing you to bite your lip to keep quiet from the scream you would have let loose otherwise.

Minho removed his hands from you and propped himself up, his lips red and swollen. He gave you an almost menacing stare. “Little baby wants to ride me? Think you can handle it?”

You nodded enthusiastically,”Mmhmm please. Been dreaming of it for years.”

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself. “Years huh? Well since you've been so patient I guess I’ll grant your wish.” He stood only to remove the clothes from his own body. When he pulled down his joggers his cock slapped up against his stomach, red and proud. You could feel your mouth literally watering at the sight. He was beautiful. Like a work of art. All those years of dance really paid off for him.

His next words brought you out of your daze. “Fuck, I don't have a condom. Do you?”

You shook your head. “No, but I'm on birth control and I’m clean. I don't mind you going in raw if you’re clean too.”

“I’m clean.” He assured you. His smirk returned, “Take your shorts off.” You did as you were told as he plopped down next to you. Minho took his length in his hand and gave himself a few jerks before motioning you over. “Come on babygirl, climb aboard.”

You wasted no time, throwing a leg over his body and positioning yourself over his cock. For a moment you were worried he wouldn’t fit, he was so big. The biggest you had seen in person. As if he could sense your apprehension he teased “Don’t worry, it’ll fit.” He placed his hands on your hips, and your own hand gripped onto him lining him up to your hole, before you slowly sunk down on him.

You both threw your heads back at the intrusion. He didn’t give you a moment to adjust before he was lifting your body up and down on his cock, your insides struggling to accommodate him.

“Fffuuuckkk, you have the tightest pussy ever.” He groaned out from under you.

You placed both your hands on his chest and began to ride him the best you could, already feeling the burn in your thighs. He could really see all the hickeys he had left on your skin from this angle. You were driving him wild.

Each time you sank on him you let out a squeakish moan. Minho knew your sounds would wake the neighbors if he didn’t shut you up, so with one hand still on your hip the other tangled itself in your hair and yanked you down hard, to meet his face where he once again gave you a bruising kiss. You yelped into his mouth, the pain felt so good you couldn’t help it.

You could feel yourself start to lose rhythm from atop him, your orgasm impending. Minho could tell by the way your thighs shook. He wanted to get you there so he let go of your hip in favor of sliding his fingers back to your core where he rubbed harshly on your bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you came around him, coating his thighs, balls, and lower stomach in your release.

Your orgasm seemed to have triggered his own, as seconds later he was spurting inside of you, painting your insides white.

“Oh my fucking god. Shit you ride me so well baby.” He mumbled out against your mouth, not really kissing, more like just breathing in each other.

After a few moments of trying to catch your breath you rolled off of him, onto the space next to him. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, it was a strange but welcome feeling.

Minho was the first to speak. “That was incredible. I don't think I’ve ever cum that hard before in my life.”

You giggled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Me either.”

He faced you and gave you another kiss on your lips only lasting a second before he pulled away and placed his forehead against your own. “I don’t want you to think this was a one time thing. As far as I'm concerned you are my girl now.”

“Really?” You asked hopefully, eyes shining at the idea of being his.

“Absolutely. I have wanted you for years and now that I have you I’m never letting you go. You’re stuck with me, babes. For the long haul.”

“That's all I want Minho. Just want you.” You kissed him sweetly. “But first I think I need another shower.”

He laughed and hurled himself off the bed and gathered you in his arms, taking you to the bathroom to clean you up.

A/N: as always comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Requests are open as well! If anyone has an idea shoot me an ask :)

©doitforbangchan

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz smut #lee know #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee know smut #lee minho smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho stray kids #lee minho skz #lee minho x you #stray kids smut

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crappymixtape · 4 months

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because of you • part one

PART TWO • PART THREE • PART FOUR // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 2.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T O N E 🎶 good girls ( john carpenter remix ), chvrches

“Why is she even here?”

“Steve!”

A loud smack cut the air in two as Robin slapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder, rendering the rest of group there in Max’s trailer silent.

Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, cheeks burning under his gaze, lips twisted into a scowl and trying hard to hold back the daggers you wanted so badly to throw at him.

“She doesn’t know what the hell we’re up against! How’s she supposed to–“

“Steve, none of us knew either, cut her a break.”

“Cut her a break and then what? We all get eaten by a fucking melted people monster?”

“That’s not fair–“

“It’s fine! It’s fine, Nancy,” you cut the girl off, standing quickly from your spot on the couch.

They’d been talking like this since you showed up. Like you weren’t right there in the room with them and honestly you kind of wished you weren’t anymore.

“I need some air,” you grumbled before giving Steve a pointed glare and shouldering open the front door.

The air outside was crisp as you sat down on the front stoop. Not a cloud in the sky and sunlight washing everything in soft golden light, but it all still felt so dark. Like it was harboring thick shadows. Long, spindly, and pitch black. Waiting to wrap their twisted fingers around you.

Waiting to dig into you and squeeze tight.

Waiting to lift you twenty feet into the air and snap your bones like twigs.

Waiting to leave you for dead.

And here was Steve fucking Harrington asking what right you had to be there. Asking what purpose were you gonna serve amongst this “holier than thou” joke of an army. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie had already gotten their asses handed to them by what they’d called demobats, Steve arguably needing serious medical attention, and they wanted to go back? It took everything you had to not leave right there on the spot.

Hell, maybe you should, you thought for a minute. You didn’t owe them anything, especially Steve, but you did owe it to your best friend. The one who basically had a hit out on him. The one who wouldn’t hurt a goddamn fly, but all of Hawkins had already decided he was guilty and you weren't about to leave him.

Eddie.

❝ SO SAVE YOUR BREATH, GIVE A LITTLE OF WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT – DO THEY KNOW SOMETHING I DON’T? ❞

You met him two years ago under the bleachers at the Homecoming football game. It seemed like the perfect place to smoke the joint you’d messily rolled in the car right before you’d come into the stadium and apparently you’d been right, but someone else had already laid claim to it...

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but this is kind of my spot.”

He’d been all black leather and denim. Dark curls and clove. Silver rings and chains and heavy boots and maybe you should’ve been more intimidated, but the smile lines at the corners of his mouth gave him away.

“Don’t see a sign anywhere,” you’d shot back, no hesitation. Looked over at him all skeptics and attitude and took a long drag from your joint. Blew the smoke off in his direction and it made him grin like an idiot.

“Been sellin’ weed down here for like…the last three years so–actually, yeah. What the fuck, man. Someone owes me a sign.”

...And that was it, you were a goner. Laughing mid-toke and coughing so hard you cried and it made him feel so bad he gave you a baggy for free. Eddie "the freak" Munson and you – best friends.

Skipped all the stupid dances and football games with you. Paraded around the lunch room like an idiot with you. Threw fries back at the jocks for you when they called you a loser and sat on the floor in the bathroom with you when you cried.

So fuck “King Steve” Harrington.

You had every right to be there, probably even more than he did and you were gonna tell him to his face, but—

“Can I sit?”

The sudden sound of someone else made you jump.

“Jesus, Eddie.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled and sat down next to you. Gave you a sidelong glance and a small lopsided smile. “He’s really not so bad–”

“You’re joking. Right? Tell me you’re joking.”

The boy hummed, dropped his gaze down to the rings wrapped around his fingers and twisted the one on his thumb.

“He doesn’t want me here. None of them do,” you grumbled, frustration fed further by his non-answer and it pulled his eyes back up to you.

“Hey now, that’s not true–”

“Yes it is! Even Nancy looks at me like a kicked puppy.”

That pulled a laugh from him. Made him scoot closer to you and bump his shoulder into yours. “Listen, sweetheart,” the nickname made you soften, but you tried to keep your scowl in place, “We’re all in over our fuckin’ heads, hm? And Stevie boy…he’s seen some shit. He’s just trying to–”

“Just trying to what? Be a complete dickhead about it? Mission accomplished.”

Eddie sighed and roughed a hand over his face. Rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He knew what you felt because he’d felt it too. Knew what it was like to get laughed at and mocked in the lunch room. Knew how it was supposed to be between him and the other boy. Hell, he nearly cut Harrington’s face off with a broken bottle a few days ago, but one thing was clear.

Change was possible and Steve Harrington was proof, he just wasn’t great at showing it.

“Alright. He could be less of a dick,” he conceded, propping his chin in his hand and looking at you with his big brown eyes. How could you be mad at that?

You mumbled under your breath about that not being the only thing, but fine, okay, only for you, Eds.

Reaching over he flicked at your fingers and looked at you from under his curls with a stern pinch between his brows. “He’s helping me, sweetheart. They all are. Shit, without them I’d probably be in jail already. Or in Carver’s trunk,” he tried a laugh, but it fell short at the end with the weight of his words and it made you grab at his hand and squeeze it.

“Shut up,” you chided softly, no heat behind it. The anger that had been swelling in your chest all but extinguished.

Silence settled between the two of you then, heavy and tinged at the edges with worry. With everything that was at risk and it started to gnaw at the pit of your stomach. What if you couldn’t fix it? And even if you could, this Vecna asshole was about to end the world anyway so what the hell did it matter?

How were a bunch of kids going to do anything about it?

“Ahem,” the door knocked into your back and jolted you back to earth. Pulled a gasp from you and when you looked up over your shoulder you felt your anger return ten fold. “We’re leaving, geniuses,” Steve announced, pushing at you with the door.

“Least you know you’re an idiot,” you mumbled under your breath, standing up from your spot to glare at him at eye level.

“Real cute,” Steve shouldered past you on the stoop, took the last two steps in one go and turned to face you both as he landed on the grass. “For you, Munson,” he said, throwing a mask at Eddie, “Courtesy of Mayfield.”

“What’s that for?” you couldn’t help asking as Max appeared at your side and pointed so casually – too casually – at the mask.

“Gonna steal a Winnebago. Get that on, dingus. Let’s go.”

“Nice,” Eddie grinned up at the red-headed girl and yanked the mask on over his head, “Thanks, Red.”

“Let’s go,” Steve urged, waving his hands at everyone to get out of the house and you felt your heart racing.

“Steal a Winnebago? Eddie. Fuck that–”

“Honey, I’m already a wanted man–” Eddie cut you off and readjusted the ridiculous looking mask a bit. “–c’mon,” he said, tugging at your belt loop to get with it.

“I–that doesn’t mean you can just steal–”

“We’re way past that,” Dustin chimed in, shoving past you just like everyone else, “Besides, if the world’s gonna end anyway, what’s it matter?”

Shit. The kid had a point. It was probably fine. It was just a trailer. Maybe you could give it back afterward? You needed it more than they did. Right?

“Dammit,” you grumbled under your breath, now the only one still standing around. “Wait for me!”

❝ THEY TELL ME I’M HELL-BENT ON REVENGE, I CUT MY TEETH ON WEAKER MEN, I WON’T APOLOGIZE AGAIN ❞

The first time you ran into Steve Harrington was sophomore year. In the hallway before Click’s class. You were cramming everything into your bag, but struggling with your history book when you heard it coming.

Tommy Hagan’s stupid laugh.

Your stomach sank, eyes glued on your things and trying to ignore it. He was in your science class the year before along with his ditzy girlfriend Carol and they always made sure to get a spot in the back just to make out.

“Need some help?”

When you finally looked up at him he’d stopped right in front of you, the grin on his lips sharklike as Carol smirked out from under his arm. Another boy you didn’t know was standing just behind them wearing a stupid member’s only jacket, half unzipped, and had hair that sat perfectly in place. Too perfect.

“That looks heavy, hm?” Tommy said grabbing your book, voice all saccharine sweet and sharp around the edges. Flipping through the pages he pulled a face, clicked his tongue and weighed it in his hand, then made a show of dumping it on the floor. “Whoops. Sorry!” he half-laughed and your cheeks burned.

“Bite me, Hagan,” you snapped back, bending down to grab your book, and it only made his grin grow wider.

“Ooo. She’s fiesty today, Stevie. I like it.”

And then he chimed in. Stevie. The had-to-be-douchebag that everyone called 'King Steve.'

“Probably on her period,” he said scoffing a laugh, all confidence and bravado and the look on his face was so smug. Thought he was so clever and funny and when you finally turned around it was to take the two steps up to him in one.

“Really? My period? So original.”

It made him swallow hard. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he blinked back the flicker of surprise glinting in his eyes. He took a quick glance at Tommy like he didn’t want to disappoint him and then hardened his expression. Crowded down over you and nodded.

“Explains you being such a bitch.”

And it took the air from your lungs. Stuck in your sides sharp like a knife and you felt your throat tighten as Tommy and Carol snickered, but you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not here.

“Yeah. Bet you wish you had an excuse for being such an asshole,” you cut at him and it pulled an Oh shit! out of Tommy as he doubled over laughing, Steve’s mouth dropped open in shock.

Your feet couldn’t carry you away fast enough as you shoved your book in your bag and turned to leave, but you refused to run. Refused to let them see weakness, and as Tommy yelled down the hallway after you about tampons you raised a middle finger high in the air to punctuate just how much you hated them all.

Eddie met you in the bathroom after that, the one nobody used on the other side of school, and you told him everything. He let you have the joint he had tucked behind his ear for emergencies, listened to you and told you they weren’t worth it. Especially not Steve. Because even though Tommy started it, Steve was the one who dug in. Could have left it alone but didn’t and that was what really got you.

How obvious it was he knew how shitty they were being, but went along with it anyway because he had to maintain his status. Had to uphold how ‘cool’ he was and keep the line in the sand drawn between him and ‘the freaks’ like you.

So he wouldn’t get a second chance.

And he wasn’t worth your time.

Not then and sure as hell not now.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A THREE PART SERIES, PART TWO AND THREE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

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drconstellation · 2 months

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The Cupperty Ceremony

Every bit of food and drink in both seasons has a metaphorical significance, even if you don't realize it.

Tea is no exception. Its one of the few times an eastern philosophy creeps into Good Omens, but it still meets with a western ideal. It's also intrinsically linked to Aziraphale and his affected British style.

Coffee gets more of a focus in S2, and has a specific meaning around freedom and liberty, whereas tea appears more in S1. But the metaphorical meanings around them are fairly consistent across both seasons, with stereotypes for the British drinking tea and the Americans only drinking coffee put aside.

Lets start with Muriel on the doorstep of the bookshop, at the beginning of S2E3, asking to come in, because its noisy outside.

Aziraphale, after a moment to take in who they are, is the epitome of politeness as he welcomes them inside.

You might think "well, isn't this just Aziraphale being typically Aziraphale?" in this moment, but soon we shall see its a relevant part of a ritual going on here.

The bookshop is noticeably quieter on the inside. There is just the two of them. Aziraphale offers Muriel tea in a fine china cup, with a blue pattern, and gold trim.

Muriel is not sure what to do with it so they just hold it. Aziraphale makes a point of demonstrating what should be done: He tells Muriel the tea is "to drink," then looks at it, sips, and makes both an appreciative expression and sound.

Muriel seems repelled by this, and declares they are just going to look at theirs. Aziraphale patiently, still polite, lets them do so.

Up to this point, there are actually two levels of meta happening at the same time. The first one is a tea ceremony (which I had a go at once before, and got the wrong one!) and the other is about trying to get Muriel to take the first step in "going native."

A tea ceremony always starts with a courteous invitation. The tea is prepared, then served and offered to others. It should be taken in a tranquil, peaceful setting, perhaps in a harmonious natural environment (such as a Garden) and with only a few people at a time (two people is considered a "superior" experience.) The tea ware is important, as it should allow the fragrance of the tea to be appreciated (we have some fine china, Heavenly-coded.) Appreciation of the tea's qualities is undertaken, first with the eyes, then by smell, then tasting. It is considered an art, a process of spiritual enjoyment, a means of cultivating the moral character - and then Crowley bursts into the bookshop with his flirty comment about going by train and breaks the fragile connection Aziraphale had been trying to establish with Muriel.

*sigh* Timing, Crowley! Can't you see I'm in the middle of trying to subvert a fellow angel here?

I was recently reminded that tea and coffee have a connection in GO, in that that they are both linked to the American War of Independence. While the speech that gives us "Give me liberty, or give me death!" conjures the stormy winds of war sounding trouble approaching, the Boston Tea Party was the initial spark of the brewing conflict.

I realize there is a LOT of stuff written about this particular bit of history, and it can get quite political even in these modern times, so let me frame it in a Good Omens frame of reference if you aren't familiar with it - the colonists in the New World were upset at how they were being ruled from afar by the British and staged a small protest about some new laws imposed on them by dumping ship-loads of valuable tea leaves (a daily consumable pleasure people had become hooked on) into Boston Harbor on the night of 16th December 1773. To disguise themselves they dressed themselves as indigenous people, or "native Americans" as one might have said. This was just the beginning of further rebellion that led to war a few years later.

So here is another reason Aziraphale offers tea to Muriel, and not cocoa; he can see how fascinated they are with with everything Earthly around them, and he hopes to ignite a spark of rebellion in them, too, by introducing them to the more civilized pleasures (*ahem*) that he knows and enjoys so well.

While there is little tea to be seen in S2, there is plenty to be seen in S1. Perhaps the most prominent one for this discussion occurs right near the beginning, when Gabriel surprises Aziraphale in the sushi restaurant in S1E1.

Aziraphale offers to tea to Gabriel, and Gabriel shuns it. He, like most of the angels we meet, have no real interest in Earth. It's "gross." Ah, well. He gets to change his mind in S2.

So where else do we see tea in S1?

The Four Horsepeople: War orders four teas, one black, and a cheese sandwich in the diner where they all meet up together for the first time on Earth. We don't know who the sandwich is for, but I'm going to guess its for Famine. Reasons below, with Shadwell. (Cheese and tea make a nice savoury pair for a snack, if you haven't tried it. I'm partial to tea with cheese and crackers on the side from time to time.)

The Tibetan Tunnelers were on tea break from digging tunnels all over the Earth when we meet them, where they mention they were transported into the tunnels when they themselves stopped for tea back in their real lives on the surface.

Shadwell's infamously sweet tea, with either nine sugars or condensed milk, needs a mention as well, as it appears several times. Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel-character, living on the fringes of society and starving for attention, even though he makes feeble swipes at Madam Tracey's attempts to care for him. The sugar represents the amount of care or "sweetening up" he needs.

When he first meets Newt he gets the young man to buy him a tea and a packet of cheese and onion crisps. Remember the cheese sandwich War ordered for Famine? A packet of cheese flavoured crisps is a parallel here. Newt has turned up and finally given someone Shadwell someone to sink his teeth into.

Finally, we need to return to Crowley - its coffee, as black as his soul for him, please, and extra strong (six shots is for the number of Hell.)

Because he's already "gone native," just like Aziraphale, and he wants to maintain his freedom. He's left the Garden, and Heaven, behind him, and he'll do anything to keep it that way, thank you.

I'd like to thank my mutual and other food meta writer @vidavalor for discussing some of this off-list some time ago. We mostly see things the same way, I believe, but one must tread one's own path sometimes. They have some different ideas around some of this, but I'll let them say it in their own words.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #muriel #gabriel #four horsepeople of the apocalypse #shadwell #the tibetan tunnelers #and a cheese sandwich #six shots of espresso #gone native #gross matter #it's what humans do #tea ceremony #cup of tea #cupperty

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kitspindles · 1 year

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I’m in no way bashing on people who have already finished TSatS and say they hate it, are disappointed, etc., because I myself have not gone past chapter seven. My friend let me read some today, but I won’t have my own copy until Thursday, so maybe my opinions will change. I will say, however, that if you read 400+ pages in less than a day, maybe give yourself some time to process the entire plot first?

In any case, I can’t help but wonder how many people went into this book expecting one version of Nico and Will, only to be hit with something else entirely. And I mean like... expecting the fandom’s versions of these two, rather than what canon has previously shown us up until this book.

It’s my personal opinion that the PJO fandom’s worse enemy is their own mischaracterization of the characters at times. And I don’t mean like little head canons and stuff. Everyone has done those at some point. There’s usually no harm in those. I’m talking about people who created their own versions of Nico and Will and have been running with these visions for years through different fan fictions and what-not online.

For years we’ve known basically nothing about Will aside from the fact that he’s sarcastic, likes Star Wars, his mom is a country singer, he can glow in the dark, and he’s better at healing than fighting. (And he has questionable fashion choice at times). Like, that’s all we’ve had since his initial introduction in The Last Olympian over a decade ago. Everything else? Online and fan speculation. And again, there is nothing wrong with that! I just feel like a lot of people went into this book holding onto their own pre-conceived visions of what Will Solace was and ended up disappointed the authors made him... different? But not really different, because he didn’t have a lot of in-depth personality or backstory before this.

Me personally? Yeah, I’m not that far into the book yet but I’m loving how Will is portrayed so far. He’s still sarcastic, but he’s shown his fair share of level-headedness as well as frustrations just within the first couple chapters. He is in no way the overly-optimistic sunshine-y boy who only exists to help Nico that the fandom has portrayed him to be all these years. His character arc is already headed in a way deeper direction (more on that when I finish the book). The whole bit where Will had coffee spilled on him and spent the next couple paragraphs in the scene trying to be unbothered while actually giving off “This is fine” fire dog energies? I loved that.

As for Nico, can I just say I adore how he’s written in this book? Aside from his PoV in Blood of Olympus, this is the first time he’s had his own narration. And it’s actually about him and more in-depth than previous times. I’ve heard people say that he’s “out of character,” and while I can see a little of what they’re all saying, I just want to know... what version of Nico have you all been reading? Did I miss something?

Up until this book, what exactly did we know about Nico? That he’s displaced in time, his sister and mother are both dead (and he feels alone), he harbored repressed gay feelings from his upbringing as a Catholic guy in 1940s Italy, and he’s been through the ringer more than once (so, trauma, basically). Oh, and he’s a bit of a nerd (Mythomagic and knowing all kinds of ancient creatures). That’s... about it. Everything has been speculation and projection from fans.

In previous books he’s always been portrayed from first- or third-person point of view (usually from people who don’t know him well and just think he’s “creepy”), leading to the idea that he’s distant and low-empathy based on some interactions he’s had with demigods who weren’t thrilled to be around him, during a time of great pressure. But he’s not exactly uncaring. He’s been shown to care a lot, actually (Bianca, Hestia, Bob, everything he’s done for Percy, his friendship with Reyna, Hazel, etc.)

But what about when he was ten? He was an excitable, curious kid who liked to have fun. And what did we see briefly in Trials of Apollo (before Jason died, at least)? We saw some of that energy return, particularly in The Hidden Oracle.

So, yeah, I’m personally thrilled to see him making cringe-y jokes and have some self-deprecating humor. It’s very “#OnBrand” for a traumatized teenager who’s just trying to cope and live life without any godly wars forcing him this way and that. Can we really say it’s “out of character” if we’ve never seen more than one side of Nico? (The under pressure side, from other character’s PoVs, in books not about him where he’s basically been a side character?) I’m just glad to see him cracking jokes, laughing, and acting more like a normal kid.

Now, is this book different from Rick’s other ones? Uh, yeah. I won’t say it’s not. But it’s not bad. It’s supposed to be different. It has slightly different intentions than the other books (re: explicitly working through trauma and relationship bumps). Also, it’s co-written. Co-written books always read slightly off from the original author’s work, but dam if it isn’t hard to meld writing styles and copy another author’s particular voice. But I think Mark did a very good job at imitating Rick’s style (again, from what I’ve read so far).

Will I change my mind on all this the farther I get into the book? Maybe. There’s a lot to read and take in. All I’m saying is don’t let the negative reviews warp your opinion of the book if you haven’t read it yet and are on the fence if you should or not. Wait for the PDF to drop, or for a library copy, and read and see for yourself.

#nico di angelo #will solace #the sun and the star #tsats #tsats preview #tsats predictions #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #rick riordan #mark oshiro #rrverse #riordanverse #riordan universe #Read Riordan #my stuff

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friendlybowlofsoup · 8 months

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Another Update

Hello Friends,

I have a rather long (but optimistic!) update to share with you all today. As many of you are probably tired of reading these kind of posts, I have a TL;DR here, but I did want to share what has been on my mind in that past half-year that I haven't been here.

It has been rough, and busy as always, but I think I'm finally facing myself and my project for the first time in a very long time.

TL;DR (it's actually long, I have a lot to say (*_ _)人)

I soul-searched and decided to stop compromising on my own feelings with regards to this project. I gave in to everything I wanted to do.

Plot changes, which means some character changes, which means some of the demo is outdated.

GotRM will be switching over to Twine.

----

OH MAN DID I SUFFER THE LAST FEW MONTHS

After my previous update, I hunkered down and really analyzed how I wanted to proceed with GotRM as a project. Because even prior to that post, I had already been going through long periods of hiatuses (which you are all aware of), and while I didn't lie about school taking up my time, I was also harboring a growing dissatisfaction with my own writing that really killed my progress for a long time.

So after everything had settled, I sat down and forced myself to peel apart my work. I know I said I would answer asks, but I uninstalled all of my social media and put aside this blog to focus. I made a note of all the things I liked and didn't like, and I made a list of things I wanted to change or improve on. The biggest point was that I also looked at my efficiency during actual writing sessions: how much of my time was spent writing vs. fighting with code? How could I change that?

And after a lot of deliberation, I figured there were a few things I had to change from the ground up, summed up in four points:

My working style was super incompatible with grad school. I can't spend 20-30 minutes scrolling up and down CSIDE checking code or looking for narratives while also jumping between chapters to make sure events line up. As this story grows, the more difficult it becomes to keep track of all the branches, so I needed an alternative working method, which I am adhering to now, and it prioritizes efficiency.

I hated the way I was tracking and coding stats in-game. I have griped so much about coding stats, and I have adhered to such a rigid style that I really felt trapped whenever I was confronted with balancing them out. So I'm throwing that to the wind and redoing how I utilize and convey them. Player-side, this decision doesn't change much since I never fully utilized stats in the demo anyway, and the stats page with indicators will still exist, but I'm getting rid of stat bars and how I treat stat checks.

The story I want to write now is different from the one I started out with. I've known for a while that GotRM was becoming far more than the tiny, wishful novella that I wrote as a teenager. I held onto that old story for a long time, but there's just so much I want to change that I realized I'd been clinging to a story I no longer enjoyed writing. So I spent the majority of the last few months rewriting GotRM from scratch. I redid some worldbuilding, I changed a lot of plot points, and I fixed a lot of characters' backstories accordingly. This meant scrapping stuff from even the demo, but that turned out to not be the biggest issue because:

I wanted to branch away from ChoiceScript. Honestly, I never really cared about getting officially published, but the camaraderie in the forums and on Tumblr were why I committed to CS and CoG. However, ultimately, I really want the functionality that other tools can offer GotRM, and so after a long internal debate, I will be switching over to Twine. Fortunately, since I was rewriting everything anyways, this has been relatively painless, and passage mapping has made everything so much neater. I am trying my best to make it up to chapter 2 before I release the new demo, so please look forwards to that!

And so yes, I am still here, chugging along.

I love this game and this story: it's been my creative escape for as long as I could remember, and you can imagine how frustrated I was when I realized I was starting to dread working on it.

I am forever learning more about myself and my writing style, and this is simply more of that journey. Thank you everyone for sticking around, for joining the discord, and for checking up on me--that I have all of you has truly been a dream.

Hopefully more updates to come soon! I understand that there may be questions about these new changes, so please ask away! I will (try) to release some asks that I've been working on in the drafts too, but I will wait until at least tomorrow to release them so that this post doesn't get drowned out immediately.

And as always, with a lot of love,

FriendlyBowlofSoup (Mei)

#writing update

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bluesylveon2 · 1 year

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OMG HI I CAME AS FAST AS I COULD WHEN I SAW REQUESTS FOR 400 FOLLOWERS WERE OPEN I LOVED YOUR ORTHO FAMILY DAY ONESHOT!! i was gonna ask for idia + "i wont say im in love" or "once upon a dream" bc both are SUCHHH good disney songs, i hope you can write whichever one seems more fun to you, lots of love!! - ♡ anon

Omg hi!!! Thank you for reading the ortho fic! It was my first time writing for twst and I glad at how it turned out. I chose "I Won't Say I'm in Love" because it just screams Idia 😂. Hope you enjoy anon!!!

Notes: Idia being in denial, mentioned Vargas camp pt 2, fluff, Azul uses one line from the Ghost Marriage, and the housewardens team up on him (it's basically their team-building exercise lol)

Word Count: 975 (I said that these are supposed to be drabbles but now they're oneshots lmao)

Warnings: possible ooc characters and not beta read.

Idia thought the Vargas camp was torture, but it was actually Crowley's team-building camp (with no technology, might he add) filled with some of the scariest people he knew (read: the housewardens) and the Ramshackle Prefect.

Yes, the Prefect.

Crowley said she needed to attend since she was in the same position as them for Ramshackle. However, Idia knew she didn't have to be there since Grim was her only dorm member. The real reason she was here was to keep the housewardens in check.

"You're staring off again," Vil's smooth voice caused Idia to jump and take his attention away from the nearby Yuu talking to Crowley.

“I’MNOTSTARINGATYUU!”

Vil sighed, "I never said anything about the Prefect."

Idia wanted the ground to swallow him whole, "H-how long have you been standing there?"

Vil crossed his arms, a frown etched on his flawless face, "Long enough for everyone to get stuff for camp except for you," he emphasized his words by pointing out to the vacant field except for the Prefect standing far from them. Vil, annoyed, gracefully walked over to Idia and pressed a manicured finger to his chest, "Look, I'm not sure what Yuu sees in you, but if you hurt her, I will not hesitate to send Rook at you," he said in a brotherly manner. Idia swore that Vil's glare could kill him if it could.

Idia's hair turned slightly pink, "Whoa, whoa, why would I hurt Yuu?" He was grabbing one part of his jacket when he heard Vil sigh.

"I don't want to see her shed any tears over you, got it?"

Idia opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by Malleus teleporting to him.

"You are going to hurt the Child of Man?" Malleus frowned.

Vil rolled his eyes, "Malleus, do you think that Idia is in love with Yuu?"

"Hey!"

Malleus hummed in thought and ignored Idia, "Lilia taught me what love was the other day, and I think Shroud fits the description. He mentioned how humans can turn red, and I assume that Idia's pink hair is a similar reaction."

Idia squealed and feebly attempted to blow out the pink away, but it grew out of embarrassment.

"Will you shut up! Some of us have better things to do and nap," Leona called out from a nearby tree. He had an annoyed and tired look on his face.

"Hey, Kingscholar, do you think Shroud has feelings toward the Child of Man?" Malleus innocently asked the lion beastman.

"I'm literally right next to you!" Idia exclaimed, but it fell on deaf ears again.

Leona opened one eye and looked at the group, "Do I think? Hah, I know he does. Radish Sprout tries to keep his lovestruck face hidden from Yuu, but we can all see it. He can't conceal his obvious swooning. Honestly, it makes me want to puke."

Idia's hair was a mix of pink and red "I am not trying to hide anything!" He exclaimed, causing Vil to roll his eyes.

"Hey, guys!" Kalim threw his arms around Idia and Malleus, causing them to stumble a bit, "is there a party going on?"

Malleus shook his head, "No, but we were discussing how Shroud harbors feelings for the Child of Man," he pointed at the said male with his thumb.

"WHEN DID WE COME TO THAT CONCLUSION?"

Kalim's mouth was open in an o, "Oh, I can definitely see it! There was one time I tried to invite Idia to my party, but he was too busy swooning over the Prefect that he accidentally hit a wall," he sighed sadly. Meanwhile, Idia wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there.

"What is going on here? We should be looking for food or logs for the campfire!" Riddle looked like steam was ready to burst out of his head, but Azul, who was behind him, didn't look bothered by it.

"We are talking about how Idia likes Yuu," Kalim brightly smiled that it could rival the sun.

Azul held back his laughter while Riddle rolled his eyes, "What are we? School girls." He pointed a finger toward Idia, "Don't even think about denying it! Own up to it!"

As a last-ditch effort, Idia looked to Azul, "Azul, we're friends. Disagree with them!"

Azul let out a fake sigh, "Well, I buy many things as a businessman. I don't buy that you don't like the Prefect. To think that Idia, king of all introverts, would fall for the Prefect... I can't see through all my tears of joy," he said, wiping away a fake tear.

"NOOOOOO!" Idia's hair was now entirely pink, and he tried to hide himself behind his hands. Vil, annoyed (again), grabbed a compact mirror from his pocket and opened it. He angled to where it showed Yuu feeding Grim some tuna. He grabbed Idia's hands and yanked them down, "Hey Idia, look into my mirror and tell me what you see."

Idia briefly glanced at the mirror, and his scared expression turned lovestruck, "It's Yuu feeding the itty bitty kitty," He sighed, causing everyone (including sweet little Kalim) to smirk victoriously.

"Well, we got our answer. Let's go, gentleman." Vil closed his mirror, startling Idia, and stood up. Everyone else headed out, including Leona, who decided to find another tree to nap in.

In gaining his scenes, Idia scrambled to save himself, "Wait, that doesn't prove anything!"

"Your face said it all," Vil called out.

Idia watched as everyone became small figures until he was alone, "F in the chat for me. I will admit it, but I won't say it out loud," he muttered.

"You won't say what out loud?" Yuu's voice asked from behind him, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Idia wanted the earth to swallow him whole and throw him into a pool of lava.

400 event is still open!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #idia x yuu #idia shroud #thank you again!!!#400 follower event

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takeme-totheworld · 4 months

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Aziraphale and Forgiveness, Pt. 4: Do Unto Others

This is the last part of this series of posts! Thank you all for coming on this ride with me.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here.

If you’re just tuning in: everything I write in these is me pulling from a combination of stuff in the show and my own past with the evangelical church/some of its particularly toxic ways, to talk about why I think Aziraphale is the way he is.

Now that I’ve written many many words about what I think Aziraphale’s general damage is around forgiveness, I’m going to look at some more specific examples of his behavior and attempt to answer the question, "What is going through his mind when he does that?"

In Aziraphale’s world, God (speaking through Heaven/the Metatron) holds all the cards. She casts angels and humans alike down into Hell for eternity for various transgressions, and forgiveness is the only way out. How any part of this system works is totally unclear to everyone but God. Despite all of this, Aziraphale is strongly attached to the idea of God and Heaven being The Good Guys and himself as someone who is on the side of good.

So, what does he do?

He seldom admits wrongdoing and never asks to be forgiven.

This may seem like a weird place to start, but stick with me for a minute: Aziraphale behaves like someone who does not trust that his own mistakes will be forgiven. Which makes total sense. Not everyone's sins get forgiven, and the consequences of that are horrific. Given that, how could he possibly feel safe enough to own up to any wrongdoing, ever? So he lies to God about giving the flaming sword away, and he lies to the archangels constantly to cover his ass whenever he messes up. (This part is not just Aziraphale, by the way. Look at the constant lying and backbiting among the archangels.)

In situations not directly involving Heaven, his response to seeing his own screw-ups is generally to rush to fix them. The Edinburgh minisode provides the best examples of this, I think: he fucks up a lot in this episode but he is eager to try to rectify his mistakes as soon as he becomes aware of them. He has his view changed on bodysnatching, and he immediately goes to Elspeth and offers to help her dig up a new body. He realizes his culpability in Wee Morag getting shot, and in the next breath declares his intention to go against Heaven's rules to heal her. He wants to fix his mistakes. But what he doesn't do at any point in the minisode is apologize to the people he's harmed or ask for their forgiveness. And when Wee Morag dies before he can save her, he basically freezes up until Crowley pulls the laudanum stunt. He's screwed something up that he can't fix, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.

Rationally, this makes no sense. Elspeth does not have the power to cast him into hell, she only has the power to be angry at him. But emotionally it makes all the sense in the world. Asking for forgiveness is a vulnerable position. The other party is under no obligation to grant it. That's normal and healthy and as it should be in the real world, but when your baseline concept of forgiveness is as a divine pardon that saves you from being cast out forever, the terror of having it withheld is bound to bleed over into other situations whether it’s rational or not.

He extends unasked-for forgiveness to others, often to his own detriment, theirs, or both.

He forgives Crowley for calling him stupid in season one. He forgives Maggie her rent at the beginning of season two. He forgives Crowley for…calling him an idiot? for the argument in general? (that question is a whole post on its own, obviously) in the final fifteen. In none of these instances did the other person ask to be forgiven. It’s easy to see a lot of this as rather condescending at best. But to Aziraphale, withholding forgiveness has implications far more dire than simply harboring a grudge. I see these unasked for statements of forgiveness more like a promise—I am not going to hold this against you. “This” could be money he is owed or harsh words or anything, really, because it’s not about the specifics. And it’s also not about his personal feelings, which is why he can still muster up the words even when he’s visibly radiating anger and hurt. Forgiveness means freedom from punishment, and he’s saying whatever may have happened between us, I’m not going to punish you for it. (Obviously this is not at all how it lands with Crowley, but that’s a different topic altogether.)

This also extends into his actions, which consistently show willingness to extend grace even to those who have seriously harmed him, or committed other deeply immoral acts. Aziraphale’s tendency to quickly soften when someone appears to show a kinder or more vulnerable side has a lot of possible interpretations, but here’s mine: I think he is deeply committed, for better and for worse (and we see plenty of both!) to the idea that people should always be extended forgiveness and an opportunity to change and redeem themselves. He can’t help it. The association of forgiveness with safety and freedom from punishment is so embedded in his psyche that withholding forgiveness feels unreasonably cruel.

He doesn’t actually have the power to send anyone to hell, of course, but again, this behavior is emotional, not rational. He takes in Jimbriel and protects him despite the clear danger to both himself and Crowley. He willingly paves the way for Gabriel and Beelzebub to go off and be happy together. He’s well aware of their previous harms, but his rigid personal code around this will not let him deny someone else the possibility of positive change and redemption, because he would never want to be denied that same possibility for himself. Or to put it another way, he's doing unto others as he would want them to do unto him.

Almost-definitely-controversial opinion time: I think this exact same compulsion is at work in Aziraphale when the Metatron shows up. The job was not the draw here, Aziraphale doesn’t even want it. But the Metatron shows up and does two extremely significant things: he saves Aziraphale from punishment by telling off the other archangels and sending them away, and he offers to release Crowley from his punishment of being fallen. (I’ll come back to this in a second, I promise.) Aziraphale has so many extremely good reasons not to trust the Metatron, but the Metatron knew exactly what emotional buttons to push around punishment and forgiveness to get him thinking, "Maybe he's better than I thought. Maybe he's changed. Maybe I should give him another chance."

What were the very first words he said to Crowley when he was trying to explain the offer? "I don't think he's as bad a fellow—well, I think I might have misjudged him." His forgiveness compulsion has kicked in, hard, and suddenly he's extending grace to someone who does not deserve it at all, to everyone's extreme misfortune.

He wishes (prays?) for God to forgive Crowley.

"May you be forgiven" at the bandstand and "Then God forgive you" during the Job minisode fall under this category. He's not expressing his own forgiveness at these moments, he's wishing for God's forgiveness for Crowley.

Falling is a punishment for angels. I talked about that in part 2, but I just want to reiterate it here. However any particular demon may eventually come to feel about their demon status, it starts out as a punishment and it inflicts a lot of suffering. Fallen angels don't choose to leave Heaven, they are forcibly kicked out. It's physically painful. They are banished to Hell, a place that is ostensibly a place of punishment for humans but is obviously pretty miserable for demons, too. And reading between the lines of a number of things said in the show, it's pretty clear that the punishment of falling is understood to be permanent.

So, from Aziraphale's point of view, his best friend, the being he loves more than anything, is serving an eternal punishment with no possibility of release. I think he knows deep down that being cast out forever to a place of constant suffering is an obscenely disproportionate punishment to any offense Crowley might have committed. He clearly knows that Crowley is a good person inside. He knows that God's ineffable plan sometimes includes forgiveness, at least for the souls of some humans. And I think he's been hoping against hope for a long time that God will one day forgive Crowley.

For people who have a totally different emotional context around forgiveness, the immediate (and understandable) reaction is no doubt to bristle at this. Forgive him for what? What did he even do? Even if he did actually do something, falling is an outrageously cruel punishment. Heaven should be the ones begging for Crowley's forgiveness for doing this to him.

And all of that is absolutely true. But it's not the context Aziraphale is operating from. When he hopes God will forgive Crowley, what he's hoping for is that Crowley will finally be released from punishment. So when Crowley says something that he finds morally abhorrent ("I long to destroy the blameless children of blameless Job") or something that stirs up his anxiety that God is watching and taking offense ("great pustulent mangled bollocks to the great blasted plan!"), he counters by once again wishing for forgiveness for Crowley. It's his way of expressing some confused and anxious combination of "I know you're better than this" and "I don't want to see even more punishment heaped on you" and "I want you to be free of this life sentence one day." It comes from a place of wanting to help and protect, however misguided.

Which sums up a lot about Aziraphale's attitude around this, really. Most of Aziraphale's ideas about forgiveness, and the actions that stem from them, come from a combination of longstanding fear and trauma, plus a severely distorted worldview that he's been indoctrinated into his whole life. There's a lot he doesn't understand, and there are definitely some areas of his life where he needs to learn better and make amends. But I think there's also a big case of different exactlys going on, when it comes to what Aziraphale actually means when he says certain things about forgiveness, and what Crowley (and much of the fandom) thinks he means.

These are all just my thoughts, as someone who spent the first twenty-ish years of my life being personally victimized by certain toxic and fucked up views of Christian forgiveness, and who sees a lot of my younger self in Aziraphale's words and actions around this topic. If you've read all this (1) you deserve a gold star, and (2) I would love to hear your thoughts as well!

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #character analysis #religious indoctrination #aziraphale #religious trauma #forgiveness #i forgive you

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reasonsmandy · 3 months

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A letter?

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Hi!!! Love your writing so much!! Not sure if you’re still doing requests lol, butttt I have a really specific one so if you’d be able to do this I’d like actually die omg. Okay so I’m a fashion student from LA and I was thinking, the reader is like basically siblings with billy and Graham, (her dad and their mom started dating when they were kids so they were practically raised together) but she’s closest with Eddie in particular. They’re best friends. They’ve basically been attached at the hip since they were kids. They’re both secretly harboring feelings for each other and everyone knows it but themselves. She’s been there for them since the band started, like Camilla, making them outfits for gigs and stuff. and Eddie even takes her to prom when her date ends up being a jerk to her. Butttt the reader ends up moving to LA to go to fashion school (maybe eventually she can be their costume designer for the aurora tour 🙏) and Eddie slowly stops talking to her god knows why. Fast forward- The band moves out to LA and they stay with her until they’re stable enough to be out on their own. The tension is super high between her and Eddie and EVERYONE notices. Super Angsty. Ends in fluff and love confessions 🫶 maybe angry billy lol. AGAIN THANK YOU!!! I know that was super complicated. YOUR WRITING AND EDITS ARE AMAZINGGGG !!

✧.* you're reading part one, here's the sequel — You matter to me

✧.* summary — You and Eddie were a story in the making, which you were sure had been finished after the way you left. But now with your reunion, perhaps there is a reticence.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 3.2k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I love this ask! And I'm working on part two for it already. Please, lmk what you guys think of this back and forth writing dynamics.

You drop your keys into the jar that was on the table next to the door, then hang your coat on the hanger as you try to speed up the process to finally rest from a long day. The apartment was dark and you didn't bother turning on all the lights, contenting yourself with just the orange light from the kitchen, you went to the counter, checking the letters you had received and also collecting some newspapers from the previous days to throw away.

Days like these make you miss the constant movement and excitement that your life in Pittsburgh contained, your thoughts from time to time hovered over delicious memories that you, whether or not you wanted to have a taste of once again. It had been a few months since studying fashion had brought you to LA, and even if you were satisfied with several friends and studying what you loved, there was a huge lack of what remained there.

With the feeling of nostalgia tugging at the pit of your stomach, you head to your phone to call the number you used to answer. At the end of the line you hear three rings before the hiss and finally a voice.

“Hello?” The unexpected voice makes you wonder if you had the wrong number.

“Uh, I'm looking for Mrs Dunne?” Your voice was tired, at this point you just wanted to kill the longing.

“Y/N?” You hear the questioning after a silence, and recognizing the voice makes the butterflies in your stomach rise.

“Yeah Eddie, it's me.” You say in a breath, and once again you receive silence.

“Y/N my dear, how is everything going there?” You try to avoid the feeling of sadness about what had happened, swallowing hard.

“Everything good, and things there?” You are amazed at how natural your voice sounds.

“It's actually a bit chaotic, the boys are packing everything up in a hurry to move.” She says in a nervous laugh.

“Move? What do you mean?” You try to remember having received this information before, but you can't find it.

“Didn't you receive my letter? They will try to grow the band in LA, you might even meet up. Isn't it great? Your brothers miss you.” You didn't know if you believed the last sentence, at least not in the plural. Graham and you talked sometimes, but you and Billy hadn't talked since your move.

“That's awesome! I'm happy to hear that.” You indeed were, but you couldn't help but feel the confusion of why all this was happening now.

…

You have a vivid memory of sitting on the floor of Graham's room as he murmured about how unfair life was, and at that point you tried your best to help your half brother with any advice you came up with. Your face was resting on the bed when you and he looked at the door when you heard Billy knock three times, indicating that he was going to come in. They were your brothers since you were two years old, when your father married the boys' mother you grew up together in that house mostly without any problems.

They were kind to you, they always were, even though Billy was more distant. You knew someone that he was marked by something that you weren't here to witness, but in a way you understood how much a parent was missed.

The older Dunne sits on the edge of the bed, watching his older brother frustrated, you notice that he holds back his laughter feeling the nostalgia of something that perhaps he has already been through. You thought about whether you should go out and leave them alone, but you figured that if you stayed quiet it wouldn't get in the way.

“They'll be other girls.” Billy tries to comfort him, Graham for the first time stops staring at the ceiling to look at his brother.

“And how'd you know that?” You watch them talking and try your best to go unnoticed.

Billy looks at you, his gaze urgently asking you to help him with this.

“Because you know how to play the guitar" Your voice barely comes out, since you hadn't spoken for so long. Your older brother looks at you with a subtle look of 'what the fuck?'. You shrug, completing the sentence. “What? I heard it's something girls like.”

Graham lets out a muffled laugh and you're happy to have made him laugh, Billy frowns and you can see a bit of jealousy there which makes you smile.

“And besides.” Billy continues, looking at Graham again. “You’re fourteen years old!”

You laugh and your brothers accompany you. It's a comforting memory, one of the moments when you felt welcomed and loved.

However, from that day onwards Graham's obsession with having a band was born. You thought it was a good idea, after all, you spent the afternoon idly after all your homework was done, and when you sat down to design different types of clothes and sometimes sewing something with Mrs. Dunne Graham hovered around making sounds of boredom, you knew that would be good to entertain him.

He had invited his best friends, who you had been attending since you had moved in at the Dunne house. You can vividly remember the morning you were woken up by the thunderous sound of drums coming from downstairs, you curse and mumble, getting up to find out what it was about.

When you get to the bottom of the stairs, you come face to face with Warren trying to arrange his drum kit in the living room of your house, you blink a few times trying to shake off the sleep that still resides within you, Eddie's figure appears soon after with his guitar hanging around his neck. He smiles at you and you give him an even wider one.

“Does Mrs Dunne know what you guys are doing here?” You say in a laugh, Warren turns to Eddie for that answer, his messy curls reaching his eyes.

“I guess so…” Roundtree answers you, moving closer to you. And your body demonstrates a fact that you had hidden from your brother: the girl who was attracted to men who played guitar was you, and he was the boy you felt attracted to. “Do you know where Graham is, sunshine?”

Your legs shake at the nickname that gradually became common coming from him, you shake your head, spending as much time as possible observing Roundtree closely. “I literally just woke up. But assuming that you guys already looked for him in his room, you should try the garage.”

“On it!” Warren exclaims, heading towards the garage but not before winking at Eddie who rolls his eyes.

You frown, and are slowly eroded by the silence that surrounds you and Roundtree. He clears his throat “I think they made omelets, if I were you I'd run before Chuck finds out.”

“Would you like to join me?” You ask in a whisper, afraid of the answer. "I mean, if I'm not busy with all this.” You gesture to the instruments piled up on the couch and Rojas' drums.

“I'd love that.” He smiles, leaving you with the pleasant nervousness of falling in love.

…

Now the orange light wasn't enough to make you see your surroundings without your eyes hurting, so getting rid of the vivid memory you decide to immerse your thoughts in what you loved the most ‘create clothes’. Recently you were obsessed with a specific style you had noticed on the streets of the city, and the way women in particular looked most beautiful in the prints you had in mind, your goal now was to create a line to present in the same style and this had involved your last thoughts and efforts in the last few days.

You didn't know how to shake off the bittersweet feeling of having your childhood experiences in the same city, it was good when it came to homesickness, but you couldn't shake off the thought that would always go to Eddie Roundtree. After all, even after so long you couldn't shake the love that arose in your chest when his face came back to memory.

You smile when you remember that innocent and calm love that always surrounded you two, the first of so many things for each other, your firsts were his and his were yours. And even though he seemed to try, distance wouldn't erase that, but of course, the thought that he wanted to delete such memories hurt.

Of course, you weren't sure about that, you had no way of knowing if he actually wanted to erase everything you lived through since you didn't speak to each other anymore. But it was customary for you to always expect the worst so as not to be disappointed if it turns out to be true.

…

You accompanied your brothers to band practice with your sketchbook in hand, with no other plans for the afternoon other than watching them play while using the band and their inspirational styles. You guys liked the idea that in the future you would be successful as a fashion designer and they would be the biggest band in the world with you making every outfit they would wear off and on stage.

“Hey Y/N, glad you're joining us!” Chuck says as he opens the garage door for you to enter, you smile.

“Thanks for having me.” You thank him, already taking your place on the ottoman he used to leave for you there. "Cami, You came!" You say running towards your good friend, and now, sister-in-law.

“But of course, I wasn't going to miss a preview of your prom show.” She says hugging you back, then looking at the boys.

“Yeah, about that…” Your voice makes all the boys look at you scared. "No! Oh sorry, now that I noticed what you could understand, What I meant was that I don't even know if I'm going.”

“What? Why?” Warren asks, twirling one of the drumsticks in your left hand.

“I thought you were looking forward to it.” Graham adds, intrigued along with concerned.

“She was, what happened sunshine?” Eddie asks, you could see he was very confused.

“I just don't want to be alone, you all already have dates." You try to explain, they look at you intently. "And my friends too, so..."

“I thought you liked our dates." Chuck says, trying to tell you that you would still have their company.

“Yeah, and besides, you know Amanda is looking forward to meeting you.” Rojas says, referring to his date and new girlfriend.

Eddie didn't say anything, but you feel his gaze on you the entire time, which makes you avoid his gaze.

“Are you being serious?” Billy asks, his tone sharp as usual. You shrug. “I thought that Jamie guy was going with you." You can see he's holding himself back from rolling his eyes, and Eddie stops looking at you to look at him.

“Jamie?” Warren asks what everyone was wanting. "Really?”

“You said that it was a bad idea.” You say angrily to Billy, because he was acting like he wasn't partly to blame for this.

“Yes, but if you're going to complain about going alone, you'd better accept the invitation." You suck in a breath, and Billy triggers a deafening silence in the room.

“I'm going out for a walk.” You say leaving, if you let no one stop you or ask you to stay.

“Really bro?” You hear Rojas' voice as it fades out as you move away.

You don't know how long you spent kicking pebbles on the sidewalk outside your house, slowly becoming grateful that your house wasn't so far from Chuck's and that soon you were on your own. You feel the presence of someone approaching, and decide not to look at whoever it was, it was still daytime and you didn't feel threatened by being alone on the street.

“Billy is a dick!” Roundtree speaks, sitting next to you, and you laugh melancholically. “I'm sorry about him, you know that if you don't want you, you don't have to do anything, right?”

You nod, still looking ahead and not at him. And that's why you don't notice how nervous he was, thinking minutely about his next words and how to do it. He opens his mouth and closes it without saying anything a couple of times before getting straight to the point.

“Go with me.” That's all he says, and you look at him with a frown.

“Is this a joke?” You start to get irritated just by this prospect, he holds your thigh so you don't get up.

“No.” He makes it clear, and you try to understand what the hell was going on. “I don't have a date.”

“But you said…”

“Let me be clearer." He says, holding back a laugh. "I don't have a date anymore.”

“You didn't have to do that." You say, with a bittersweet feeling of happiness.

“I wanted to, and besides, you know my times with you are always amazing.” You feel your cheeks burn as your smile widens. "So, what do you say?”

“Of course, I'd love to go with you." You hug him, feeling your body fill with butterflies. "Thank you, really.”

“I'll pick you up at eight?" He says, seeing you get up to go to your house.

“But don't you go early to check the sound?" You say holding back a smile.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that.” He says scratching the back of his head. “Then...”

“We can meet at Chuck's.” You say, completing his reasoning.

…

You take a deep breath before you knock on the door, automatically holding your folder with your drawings close to your chest, as if that would protect them from any judgment you theorized could happen.

When the wooden object opens, you can't contain your smile, and open your arms to welcome your brother in a hug. He squeezes you with longing and happiness, in the corner of your eyes you can see the rest of the band smiling when they look at you. When breaking away from the hug, everyone in the band gets their due "hi" and "I missed you!" of you, as soon as you finish talking to Karen and getting to know her you turn to Roundtree.

“Hey.” You say in a low voice, as if anything that involved you and Eddie was a secret. Perhaps a force of habit.

“Hello Y/N” His voice comes out harshly, something you hadn't imagined coming from your reunion.

“Good to see you.” By this time, you were feeling the tension building up. “Look, maybe we should talk about…”

“I don't think that's a great idea.” He cuts you off, avoiding looking deep into your eyes.

“Oye Eddie, check out this vest that I brought!” Rojas' voice calls him, and you try to ignore the tightness in your chest.

“I'll see you around.” He says, walking over to the curly-haired drummer.

“Everything alright, honey?” Camila's voice makes you jump in fright, but when you come face to face with her, your body melts.

You hug her immediately, gradually feeling calmer. "I'm so glad you're here, you have no idea”

She notices your gaze fixed on Eddie when you leave the hug, and knows (more than anyone) what that gaze held. All the history you had since that prom, which was put on hiatus due to the reticence caused by your departure.

“So you and Eddie?” She asks, looking concerned.

“I fear that's not even a thing anymore.” You swallow your upset, and put into practice what brought you there. “Hey y'all, gather here! I can't wait to show you what I came up with since I knew you were coming.”

“You know we don't even have a record company yet, right?” Billy asks, but not in a harsh, rude tone. But in fact, genuinely curious.

“I know, but you wouldn't come here if you didn't believe you were going to wear these clothes on stage one day." You smile, causing your brother to do the same. “So shut up and come and see it.”

You see they laugh with you, not noticing that Eddie was holding his.

…

Your hands shook as you positioned the letter in front of your boyfriend, if you could call him that. For everyone, Eddie had only done you a favor on the day of the prom, but in reality you had been sneaking out ever since.

The vivid memory of the cold wind hitting your skin took you to that night, ‘The Dunne brothers’ had already made the show a while ago and he didn't take long to grab your hand and guided you to the roof. You had no idea if they were allowed to be there, but fuck it, you had finished school and nothing would be important after that night.

You sat together eating some food that you had brought, and the comfortable silence hovered between you. You feel his gaze on you, and you slowly gain the courage to say what you've been thinking since that day began.

“Thank you.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “For doing this with me.”

“Are you kidding?” He says between a laugh. "I always have a blast with you. And to be honest, I kinda want this to last forever.”

“Yeah me too.” You look deep into his eyes, and see him get closer, interspersing his gaze between your lips and your eyes.

It stops when you are inches close, You feel his breathing and his intense gaze, little by little the party music fades away, being replaced by the beat of his heart.

“Why did you stop?” You whisper, looking now at his lips.

“Your brothers are going to kill me." He says jokingly, making you smile. “But I never cared what they thought anyway.”

One of his hands goes up to your cheeks, caressing your skin before kissing your lips. You didn't know what an explosion it would be like when it happened, but your body surrendered to it every second, and since then, you two haven't been able to put an end to it. And honestly, you didn't even want to.

Eddie takes the letter in hand, knowing that your nervousness probably indicated something. He wasn't angry, but disappointed, and it broke your heart.

“You were going to leave me a letter?” He speaks in disbelief, a few tears appearing in his eyes.

“Babe, let me explain…” You say but he interrupts you.

“You were going to leave, and I was going to be the last to know…” Your voice was choked, and you felt your tears running down your cheeks. "Damn sunshine, a fucking letter?!”

“I couldn't find the right time to tell you. " You say taking his hands, sitting next to him. "I didn't want to upset you…”

“Did you really think I was going to be upset?" He looked hurt by it all, and you wanted to disappear. "That I would be upset watching my girlfriend achieve her dream?"

“When you put it like that, well.” You close your mouth before finishing your thought.

“I wish you the best." He stands up, and you watch him closely. “You will rock, I'm sure.”

“Where are you going?” You say through tears, and he turns so you don't see his.

“I need some air. " He says, opening the door, and leaving.

You didn't see him in the days after, and on the day you were all packed to leave… he left you a letter.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

-> Part two will be out soon!

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taglist: @jaidaschampagneproblems @boredshit-shadow @warrenrojaswife @o1iv3 @hopelessromantic727 @eddiesaurora

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krakensdottir · 10 months

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Why you can’t just ‘release’ dolphins

In case anyone who follows me was wondering about the captive cetacean stuff, I thought I’d type up a little thing about why they’re so difficult to return to the wild compared to many other animals.

Because animals differ widely in how easily they can be reintroduced to their habitat. It depends on how many life skills they need to learn, whether they have a complex social structure they also need to learn about first, how dangerous their habitat is, and how much they’ve already been accustomed to humans. Wildlife rescuers take in animals as babies and release them as adults on a regular basis, by taking pains to make sure they don’t bond with their caregivers. But this doesn’t work with all species.

Cetaceans are really complicated for two reasons: they’re predators, so they have to be able to hunt, and they’re extremely social, so they have to learn to navigate a pod structure. If they’re interrupted early in their socialization process, they actually fail to develop these skills. It’s why there’s a cutoff point around the age of 3, below which a stranded dolphin cannot be released. Like, legally. It’s not aquariums deciding this, it’s a national policy. A bottlenose dolphin that strands as a calf is not eligible for release, ever. It will not grow up into a wild dolphin at that point. It’s like the reverse of a feral cat.

(There are exceptions to this rule, typically involving less social cetacean species like harbor porpoises. They can be rescued as calves and later released, because the life skills they have to learn are less complicated. But bottlenoses and most other oceanic dolphins, orcas, pilot whales etc., cannot be released alone, and wild pods often don’t accept them. Hence the policy.)

They also bond to humans, like, hard. If a cetacean was captured or rescued as a youngster, or born in human care, it’s pretty much impossible to de-socialize them to humans. Every effort was made to do exactly that with Keiko, the whale who played Willy, and he just would not do it. Teaching him to hunt, trying to get him to interact with wild whales... he played along to some extent, but he wouldn’t take the final step of breaking ties with humans. He kept seeking them out. And since that wasn’t according to plan, he wasn’t allowed to return to human care. Wasn’t an option, it would’ve looked bad. Instead, when he refused to integrate, he was confined to a netted cove, where he died. This is on top of multiple cases of attempted releases, mostly of bottlenose dolphins, that resulted in the animals either starving, stranding, or coming up to humans in the wild and begging them for food and attention. (Including one in the 90s that was conducted by notorious anti-captivity advocate Ric O’Barry. The project failed miserably, one animal was killed in the attempt, but he didn’t learn his lesson and is still on his bullshit today.)

We’ve seen it again and again. Animals trained to go out to sea, who are reluctant to leave their pen and then reluctant to leave the escort boat. Animals that escape sea pens and come back, literally jump right back in as soon as the novelty of freedom wears off. On a few occasions, wild cetaceans have even tamed themselves. That’s how people used to end up with ‘pet’ dolphins back in the day when it wasn’t yet illegal.

Now, there have been successful cetacean releases. All of those cases involved adult animals which had only been captive a short time, usually after being rescued. They re-adjust just fine. But if the animal has adapted to living with humans, it won’t un-learn those behaviors. It is functionally no longer a wild animal. Ironically, considering their presence in captivity is more controversial than any other animal group, cetaceans are among the very hardest to ‘return to the wild’. And part of the reason seems to be that they don’t want to. Contrary to all expectations, they often choose easy meals and safety over freedom. A lot of wild animals will do this, given the chance, but dolphins are really stubborn about it. Releasing a captive cetacean involves convincing it that it WANTS to be free. And sometimes that seems to be the hardest part.

So yeah, we’ve tried it several times. We know what works and what doesn’t. It’s not a hypothetical, we have a very good idea what will happen if we try to release all captive whales and dolphins (most of which, by now, were born in captivity, since Western facilities haven’t captured wild animals in decades). We know that the odds of success are dismal, and animals will almost certainly die in the attempt. Hence the big clash between people who have practical experience with cetaceans, or in-depth knowledge of their care, and animal rights activists (and the public they’ve been misleading for years now). It doesn’t even matter at this point if you think they should be released. That’s not relevant. It doesn’t work, it’s dangerous, and it flies in the face of all welfare concerns. It shouldn’t even still be on the table at this point. I don’t know how many more times we’ll have to watch it go wrong before we accept that.

#that's not even going into the practical issues with sea pens and 'soft captivity'#the funding issues ALONE are insane #but that's its own rant and this post is long enough

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zvezdacito · 1 year

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Me and my friends were talking about some Glorious Masquerade Plot + Rollo character writing tweaks the other day and I decided to share what we came up with her 💃 So yeah💥

• Instead of wanting to exterminate all magic, Rollo instead wants to control what types of magic exists and that only who he perceives worthy to have it. This is because he sees himself as the only one righteous enough to deem what and how magic should be.

• He targets the NRC students, seeing them as wicked and unfit to wield magic because of all the times they've overblotted, and thinks Malleus especially should be stripped of his magic before he inevitably goes next to OB due to the pattern of events or does something like Halloween 2 again (Masquerade has no reason to be set on Halloween tbh it could be like summer in the timeline and virutally nothing would change. So Halloween 1 and 2 still happens here because it doesn't happen in Halloween anymore.)

Maybe just NRC specifically is who he targets to depower in this rewrite, but the other invited schools got dragged into it by being there when the flowers sprung, like how Frollo was only after esmeralda and the romani at first but his obsessive wrath ended up dragging all of Paris into it

• This is because he harbors an anger that he was the only one trying to warn his brother to not misuse his magic, and how he was inspired by the misuse of magic by other mages to die in his Overblot accident.

• He partially realizes this was his fault as his controlling 'holier-than-thou' behavior and manipulation (motivated by wanting to make him "see" the right way like Frollo to Jehan in the musical) is what fueled the negative overblot feelings of his brother, but he can't deal with the guilt and the fact that he might've been wrong, so he remains in denial.

• His controlling and manipulative behavior motivated by the belief his way is superior to others continues in the current time, as here he also manipulates Yuu to make them believe what he believes.

• He appeals to them by pointing out how the NRC students have done nothing but endanger them with reckless magic so far, and how they're all too selfish and probably aren't even using it to find them a way home. (More things to fuck up Malle+Yuu and challenge their friendship as well as make them both more paranoid and desperate in time for their drama in Book 7)

Yuu either purposefully helps him betray the others because of this or they were simply tricked into leading them to a trap. Either way it really looks like to the others that Yuu has turned on them because they lacked faith in them, which would sting more because of how excited they were to have Yuu being on this trip with them at the start of the event.

• This would also make Idia's confrontation and parallels with him make more sense, because like Idia he in a way was indirectly responsible for the death of his younger brother, instead of Rollo's brother just happening to perish in front of him.

• Maybe instead of letting him go completely scot free (they said the real punishment was having to live with his guilt but let's be real he felt no remorse by the end of it, he even said he'd try again☠️) Rollo's punishment when he reveals himself is like some kind of house arrest, confining him to not be able to move around without supervision or leave the grounds of NBC to do sneaky stuff again. Kinda ironic, since supervising and policing actions is literally what we wanted to do to the NRC mages and the entire world, but all it resulted in was it being enforced on him.

This penalty could be like a parallel to Esmeralda being confined to sanctuary in Notre Dame and Quasimodo also not being allowed to leave because he is a "monster" (in this case Rollo is a moral monster)

• Also, I think this would really kind of done a better job being a prelude arc taunting the audience and the characters for what's gonna happen to them in Book 7, and challenging how strong their newly formed bonds really are, as well as their resolve to not make these foreshadowed mistakes are. (We know they WILL make these mistakes, so oof lmao. It will make us and them confront whether Rollo was right or not that everything eould be better off if they had been defeated there and then)

Overall, I think this would make Rollo's whole character feel more connected and not just different random aspects the writer thought of at the last minute. His canon plan and reasoning is, for a lack of a better term, so corny and over the top, not in a "this character is meant to be crazy" kind of way but in a "the authors thought this would be more epic than it actually was" kind of way.

-> What was Rollo going to do if he was the only mage left, how was the City fo Flowers meant to deal with the diplomatic implications of harm befalling Malleus, how are in-universe essentials that run on magic supposed to go on if there is no more magic left.

-> The story never tried to point out the practical disastrous consequences of Rollo's plan on the structure of the world if it succeeded, so now it looks like it wasn't meant to be dumb on purpose and the writers themselves just never thought of it.

From what I remember the most they do is give Malleus a line worrying about what would happen to the Briar Valley if this comes to pass, and how Rollo is a misguided hypocrite for his plan. But that's kinda it😭

-> And why did him seeing his brother die from OB lead him to dislike magic in general and give him a superiority complex that he's the only one deserving of it? The reason they give in canon is because he feels weak for failing to save his brother. And through becoming the only mage ever, he will feel powerful enough to compensate for his failure I guess😭

This motive of wanting to be better than everyone can still co-exist with the rewrite motive but it's kind of weak and lame on its own, especially for a character who's meant to be based off one of the greatest Disney villains of all time😭

Plus no matter what the narrative tries to frame it with I feel like getting "I need to become better than everyone" from the experience of your brother dying kinda came out of nowhere, and isn't as connected to each other as it could be😭

So that's why I think giving him:

a) an issue of being manipulative in forcing rigid standards he believes to be "superior" on the people he wanted to "save"

b) wanting to blame the use of magic that these standards of his did not approve of for his brother's death, because he couldn't stomach the fact that the way he enforced these standards was also to blame

c) and his motive being more specific than eradication all magic

makes what they were trying to do more fleshed out and connect to each other better, as well as making more out of having Claude Frollo as his character's inspiration.

I get he's an event-only character so they probably didn't think too hard about it, but if you're gonna go out of your way to include a character based off Claude Frollo in the story at least go crazy and make the most out of it💃

Other than tweaks to Rollo's motivations and the scope of his plans, if I could edit something else about the event it would be the worldbuilding😭 I just put a screenshot from my Instagram story back when the event was ongoing because it pretty much sums up everything I would like to change about it

I still liked the event overall. I was so happy that Malleus finally got an event ssr and more story spotlight, but yeah I think they could've done more with the ideas it proposes

Maybe this post would be more relevant if I made it right after the event ended and not many months later when there's already a new event grabbing everyone's attention, but I'm cursed to never be on time to trends and etc so everyone is only getting this now💔

Ty for reading🫡

#twst #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #rollo flamme #twst yuu #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud #twst glorious masquerade #twst writing #twst wordbuilding

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cornerstoreclown · 1 year

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Unlikely Guardian

Summary: This is a short one-shot (4114 words approx.) where the reader (Gender Neutral) is being followed on their way home by someone other than their familiar companion, Art. It doesn’t end well for the people who tried to harm the Reader. Where is the safest place to be from danger, than in the arms of danger itself?

Warnings: Sexual harassment (Catcalling w/ gender neutral terms), attempted murder, gun violence, murder, stalking, depictions of violence, blood.

Author’s notes: I don’t really have much to add here, other than that thanks for the support from the community so far! You all have been very kind.

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“Fuck, it’s cold.” You mumble to no one but, well, yourself.

You should have brought gloves when you walked around the city today. The air is cold, dry, and bitter and nipping at your exposed fingers. It wasn’t that bad on your way to the local pharmacy when the sun was still up, but over the course of time it took for you to get there, wait in a long ass line, pay for your medicine and finally leave, it’s gotten worse. Then, to top it off, you were hungry after that trek and walked an additional distance to get something to eat, because in no way you felt like cooking tonight. Now you were carrying not only your medicine, but leftovers to take home. At least the food smells good from the plastic bag you’re carrying it in. Your medicine is tucked in your backpack you have over your shoulders.

This was the sucky part about November—the clocks jumped back an hour last week, and now it’s dark before it’s even five pm. Halloween came to an end not too long ago and some people still have yet to take down their creepy decorations, you notice as you walk down various streets on your way back. You didn’t mind it, though. Halloween was one of your favorite holidays, and the macabre never bothered you. It was an escape and maybe a coping mechanism for the terror that was actual reality, or maybe you just really liked this type of stuff.

It’s dark out, the sun has long since set hours ago. The sounds of leaves crunching under your feet as the wind blows them in your path accompanies you amid the peaceful quiet of this often empty part of the city. Walking alone at night was often considered something dangerous for many, yourself included, but you needed your medicine, and you really didn’t want to be without it. It was easier to walk around during the month of October at night, and it was perhaps the only time you actually took your time when coming home from any late night escapade. The reasons for your late returns home varied, whether it be because you went out to eat by yourself, went to the movies, or just a general night time walk around to appreciate the spooky decorations.

Those leisurely carefree strolls were all because you had Death’s eyes on you at all times.

Art.

Art was your friend you made a few years back during one Halloween, who, after countless encounters and even a sleepover —if you could call it that—he had at your place last fall, eventually came to be… A sort of unofficial partner, you suppose, because you’re not really sure what you two are. He had a tendency to emerge during the tail end of September and lingered all throughout October before going rampant on the 31st like he was ticking on some sort of internal clock. Maybe he’s an evil Halloween spirit. Or a demon. Devil? You don’t really know. Point being, you had your own attack dog, or attack clown, in this case, who clearly harbored some sort of care for you, though to what extent you still don’t know. You try not to think too hard every time November comes around, lest you start to feel lonely again and let the pangs of yearning for his company become so strong that you’ll feel sick.

He killed people. You knew that. But he was nice to you… even though sometimes you did question if one day he’d turn on you and you’d end up on the back of a milk carton. Sometimes being around him felt like being around a wild animal, because he was about as unpredictable as one. You supposed you could sympathize with people whose life work was taking care of exotic dangerous animals—it was the creatures' beauty and the appreciation for what those predators were that kept those people around. In your own way, you could say you thought the same about The Miles County Clown.

You even remember one night last October you were walking home in the dark, and he had been stalking you up until the moment you left your apartment, waiting for the moment to effectively scare the shit out of you, hammer out and positioned to show he was ready to attack. He was fully successful in that mission, and initially it made you angry as he stood there pointing and laughing after your soul just felt like it left your body. You remember calling him an absolute asshole and playfully giving him a light shove to his shoulder while he was still in hysterics at having made you jump and yelp. You didn’t laugh, but you did smile at him. You told him next time you’ll have to jumpscare him and threaten him with a hammer. The expression he gave you was a surprised face that melted into a mischievous smile which told you that he, for sure, would like to see you try. Challenge accepted.

You smile a little to yourself as you reminisce on the good times you had with him while walking, but your attention flickers when you hear the sound of what you thought was something like a glass breaking behind you.

You stop in your tracks, turning your head, smile disappearing, eyes scanning the surroundings trying to find the source of the noise. All you see is a bunch of brick buildings, but no sign of anyone. You did see a rat run across the street from the sidewalk that you’re on, though. You feel yourself deflate a bit and relax, watching the critter until it is no longer visible. At that, you turn on your heel and continue walking.

“Hey, hot stuff!”

Someone was calling out. You didn’t think much of it, or, you chose not to think much of it. You heard it loud and clear off in the distance behind you. They must not be talking to you, no one really talks to you. You keep your stride.

“Where ya goin’?!”

You grip your plastic bag full of food tighter by the handles, a little more speed to your walk.

“I said HEY! HOT STUFF! WHERE YA GOIN’?”

The voice is somewhat deep, and that’s already a bit of a reason for your blood to be pumping quicker. You feel ice run through your veins as you start to have a run to your walk, and then a full blown sprint. You just wanted to be left alone, and you were too anxious to look back over your shoulder for fear of what you might see. Just a few more blocks and you’d be fine! You’d be able to get to your building, run up the stairs to your floor, lock the door, and hopefully, that would be that! You’d keep your phone close at hand if you needed to call anyone! You’d never travel down these streets again, maybe not until next October, you tell yourself! It’s fine, you try to lie to yourself, it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine—

“Fine, have it your way, then!”

Words haven’t ever struck fear into your heart in such a way as they have now. It prompts you to look over your shoulder to finally see a man, rather nondescript and unremarkable. Clearly by his body language and the way that he’s slowly walking towards you versus running, something is terribly off. Where did he even COME from?!

“Why in such a hurry, sexy?”

You skid to an immediate halt as a new voice comes not from behind you, but in front of you. You look ahead to the source of the sound, seeing out from the alleyway in front of you, two more men step forward, cutting you off from going any further. Fear has a tight grip on you, and you’re briefly paralyzed. With a delayed start, you reach for your phone in your pocket too little too late, your fingers frantically trying to dial 9-1-1, but you’re cut off just at the second you’re about to press the phone symbol as one of the men before you snatches it.

“You don’t need this.” The one who seized your phone says, smirking at you before he throws your phone on the ground and smashes it beneath his foot with one, two, three very hard stomps. You’re mortified and horrified, taking a few steps back as your flight response kicks in, self preservation urging for you to run. You go to run back the way you came, but immediately bump into the first man you saw that was calling out to you. He’s taller than the other two behind you, and he’s walking forward, forcing you to back up until you’re almost caged in by all three of them. There’s still some space left, but not nearly enough to try and get out without bumping into them.

“H-Hey,” You hold your hands up by your sides as a gesture of your submission. “Listen, I-I don’t have much, but if it’s money you want, I can give you money.”

You really didn’t have a whole lot of cash on you. You were barely hanging on until your next paycheck. All you got to your name right now is maybe thirty-seven dollars? It’s not a lot, but it was something.

“I give you money, and you let me go, and I don’t tell anyone about any of this, okay?”

The two men behind you chuckle, as does the one in front of you. It only fills you with dread, and the seconds that pass feel like agonizing hours. You’re living out literally every second of your life right now, and you hate it.

“Tell?” The laugh of the man before you continues, his backup chorus over your shoulder following along with him. He’s brandishing a switchblade now, holding it to your face, and you try to lean away only for the men behind you hold you in place by your shoulders. You shut your eyes tight and wince.

“You’ll be lucky if you’ll be even able to talk again once I carve up that face of—”

You hear a sickly wet thunk! in front of you.

“What the—?” One of the men behind you says.

“Oh, fuck.” The other one behind you says, and you feel both of the men’s grasp on your shoulders vanish.

“IT’S HIM! IT’S REALLY HIM! HE DOES EXIST! RUN!”

Your eyes open at that, seeing that both men took off in two different directions. You felt one run in the direction where you came from, and one run where you were initially going before you were stopped. When you look in front of you, you see the first man who was the start of all your problems, frozen in place with pure shock, eyes wide and jaw slack. You notice he’s falling forward, and with adrenaline rushing through you, you yelp and dodge him as he falls face first onto the ground just at your feet.

There’s an ax in his back.

You look up quickly at that, shock and surprise leaving you bewildered as you recognize your savior standing before you, donning the familiar black and white.

Art?! October was over--Why was he still here? Did he come back?

That bliss is short-lived when you see he’s holding a gun pointed in your direction, until you realize it’s not at you, but over your shoulder. Art’s expression is stone cold. There’s no smile. Whenever Art wasn’t smiling, you knew that it was bad news for whoever was on the receiving end. Fortunately, it appears as if you're not on that end.

You quickly move out of the way, looking off to where he’s aiming. One of the men who ran the direction you were headed to go home hasn’t gotten very far, and you’re bracing yourself for the loud noise, covering your ears with your hands.

The blast from the gun is loud, and you still flinch when he fires it. You didn’t get to see the exact moment because of that, but you see blood spurting from the back of the fleeing man's skull seconds before he crumples dead to the ground. Art was great with his aim when he really put focus into it. You glance back at the clown, seeing him slowly lower the gun down to his side, staring off straight ahead at the limp body with no emotion.

“Art!” You exclaim, dropping your plastic bag and running right for him. Contrary to how that might be wise or sensible considering he was holding a gun and is an unpredictable murderer, it was an absolute relief to see him. He catches your intentions immediately and opens his arms slightly for you to bring it in. He's not smiling but you catch a glimpse of his teeth as they were often exposed, grinning or not. Your arms wrap around him tightly, and he’s able to effectively stand his ground without the weight of your form making him stumble back. He’s as sturdy as a pillar, and you feel his arms around you. His gun points downward at the ground from behind you. Your backpack is largely in the way, but his free hand rubs at the back of your neck in an oddly reassuring way that tickles you. You’re jittery, and you sway a bit in his arms as you both stand there in silence for those few seconds. You finally nuzzle yourself against his chest, and inhale.

Your nose wrinkles, and you pull back just enough to look up at him while still holding on. Is that sulfur you’re smelling?

“Ugh. Art, you smell terrible. Where have you been? Did you just come out of a volcano?”

He looks upwards at nothing in particular, purposefully looking rather thoughtful to indicate that he was thinking. He squints after a few seconds, then is reanimated again, giving a gentle sway of his head, followed by a shrug of his shoulders. He’s essentially telling you, ‘yeah, something like that’. You’re not going to ask about it further. The smell is god awful, but at least he’s here. You’re willing to put up with it.

“Well… Thanks for saving me. I missed you.” You tell him, but he’s not responding to your words. Instead, he’s looking at you and inspecting you, turning your head this way and that. Normally the man was all smiles and grins, but when he was angry, he was angry. He’d flip back soon, he always did.

“I’m fine, I–”

Art interrupts you with a finger in your face, telling you to stop for a second as he licks his thumb and proceeds to wipe your cheek, rather aggressively to the point where it feels like he’s trying to actually move the skin off your face. You must have gotten something on you somehow, but you don’t know when. Maybe there was some food on your face from earlier. He’s looking comedically focused.

“Yes, thank you,” You tell him.

Once he sees that you’re okay and your cheek is now clean, he gives you a gentle pat on the side of your face. You watch him through tired eyes.

“I‘m really glad to see you.”

He looks flattered, putting his hand to his chest as if to give a coy ‘me?’ gesture, brows raised and teeth showing in a smile, and you purse your lips, then show a smile of your own, giving a nod. You’re willing to forgo the fact that he smells like he literally just came from the pits of a fiery hell, and lean against him for another short while for comfort. And he lets you.

As you both stood there in the stillness of the night, it didn’t take long for it to be interrupted by the sounds of groaning beneath you. Both you and Art look down, and see the man who had the ax sticking out of his back rouse, glancing up at the both of you. You stare down at the man as the stranger’s eyes meet yours, meanwhile Art only looks down at him in mild disgust, brows furrowed, lips pulled back and teeth showing, holding a silent snarl.

“You mean to tell me…” He says, a resigned and weak laugh coming from his lips. You’re almost getting the vibe that he knows that he’s not getting out of this alive, compared to the other two that took the flight response. “That you two fucking freaks are together?”

The Miles County Clown’s reputation has only been growing over the years, much to Art’s delight. There were very few who didn’t know about him. He had a reputation to maintain, after all. So well known, yet damn near impossible to catch. He was a blight, sent from whatever depths he came from to torture mankind.

Makes you wonder what that said about you, given that he’s tolerated you and hasn’t murdered you yet.

“I should have guessed. You look like you came from the fucking circus. Your wannabe poser buddy over there can’t even kill people right like the real Miles County Clown.”

The audacity that this man and his two friends had to try and harm you, and then for him act like you’re the problem and insult your physical appearance on top of it. Now that the shock has had time to settle in and your emotions have rearranged themselves proper, you feel anger. Rage. A fury beyond what words could ever hope to paint. Your veins feel like they’re on fire, blood boiling hot. You let go of Art, who is watching you with fascination and delight as you make your way over to the stranger with clenched fists. Art’s smile is wide, and he looks about as devilish as ever.

You are experiencing righteous fury.

“You don’t get to say that to me when you’re on your deathbed, and my friend here is very much the real thing.” You tell him coldly, kneeling down to his level. You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, assessing the man. The ax in his back was pretty deep, no doubt paralyzing him from damage to the spinal cord. Art made it a point to immobilize him so he couldn’t harm you further, you realize. “I think he was just saving you for later.” You look over your shoulder at your clown companion, who has his head held high, teeth still bared, but a sense of … joy? In how you’re standing up for yourself, and him.

“I want him quiet,” You tell Art. “Permanently.”

The man’s expression falters. You stand back up, and Art has his gun held out for you to take. He points towards the familiar black trash bag a few feet away from where you both are.

“You want me to pick the weapon?” He gives you the most enthusiastic nod, silently cackling as he does so, gently giving you a push in the proper direction. You go willingly, peeking over your shoulder to see Art kicking this man in the gut a few times. The man is wailing with each hit.

The man who got shot in the back of the head had it easy.

Making your way over to the bag, you open it up, seeing an arrangement of items. Plenty of tiny handheld improvised weapons that you’ve seen him show you before. Nails, a hammer, some standard tools that you’d find in a doctors office and others that belonged more in a construction site. After maybe half a minute of careful inspection, it’s the boxcutter knife that catches your eye.

Examining Art's gun, you carefully put the safety on and unload the magazine, place it in the bag, then finally toss the gun inside next. Once you have that settled, you reach for your torture accessory of choice.

With weapon in hand you walk back over to Art, who was still rather ardently tormenting this man, giving the most gleefully silent laughter you’ve seen from him in a while. You clear your throat and he takes a second to stop what he’s doing, hand extended out for whatever weapon you’ve decided to give him. He’s still looking down at the wheezing assailant-turned-victim, but turns his head when you place the box cutter knife into his open palm. Your fingertips brush against his during the exchange, and your eyes meet his.

Whatever you’re feeling, it’s a lot like a high.

“Will you come visit me tonight?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes. He gives a lopsided smile and a shrug. There’s a glint in his eye, and you understand that he’s not done. There’s still the one who got away.

“Well, I have leftovers if you drop by. It’s ramen, but I think you’d like it. It’s wiggly like worms.” Your lips turn upwards into a fond smile. The man had the oddest affinity for insects and other invertebrates. He’s eaten a few before, too. You were trying to have him try other things than people and sweets, but you weren’t going to knock him too hard for eating invertebrates. It was protein. A win is a win.

He looks as if he’s about to react to your kind offer, but the sound of the man beneath his feet groaning disrupts your conversation. Art punishes him with another swift kick, this time in his chest. The ax has been removed and tossed to the side, presumably done when you had your back turned. You suspect Art removed it to expose the wound wider and possibly to dig further into with his bare hands or that box cutter knife. However, all of that is speculation based on what you know in regards to how he murders people. You can only guess.

“Please! Have mercy! I-I-I was just kidding earlier!” The assailant cries out. Art is gleefully showing the blade to him, fervently nodding his head, as if to say that ‘yes, this blade is going to be going in you, multiple times!’. The man’s pleas mean nothing to Art. This man is a pathetic waste of flesh, muscle, and bone, and Art knows he’s going to delight in cutting him open like a package and slicing through the skin like it’s box tape.

You swallow and look over at Art, then the pleading man. Before Art gets too into carving this man up into a masterpiece, you put your hand gently on his shoulder as he’s leaning down, preparing to cut him. The clown’s arm is raised, but he keeps it there when he feels your touch, and he turns his head to you.

“I’m heading home,” You tell him. “Stay safe, please.” You reach for your broken phone nearby, knowing you’ll have to replace it later. You’ll be more upset about your phone once all of what’s happened tonight has time to process.

He gives you a thumbs up with his other hand and then gives a friendly goodbye wave, and you return it, before turning your back to him. You refuse to look, because hearing the sounds of flesh being sliced repeatedly and the blood curdling screams is enough for you. You grab your plastic bag full of leftovers, and begin walking away.

It was only a matter of time that you’d start to hear police sirens, and you don’t want to be there for when that will happen. If someone hadn’t already called the cops, you’re sure they would eventually. The cries for help are loud, but the gunshot was louder.

You start to run, taking off as fast as you can for home until your lungs burn and you’re wheezing. You make it home safe and sound, and for a second you debate on locking the door, wondering if you should leave it unlocked for Art. Deciding to be safe and not to press your luck, you do lock it. If Art really wanted in, he’d find a way in your apartment. You never did get to ask him if he was always around all times of the year, or if this was just a one time thing and he sensed you were in trouble. You place your food on the counter, and prepare yourself for a long shower with full intentions of afterwards turning on the news, maybe to see the fate of not only the two men who bothered you, but the third one who got away.

And maybe, you tell yourself, just maybe when you get out of the bathroom you’d find a clown sitting on your couch in front of the television, stained in blood and gore with a trash bag by his side, sloppily eating leftover noodles.

#art the clown x you #art the clown x reader #art the clown #terrifier #coulrophilia #slasher x you #slasher x reader #minors DNI #long post #wrote most of this to Glow by Mr. Kitty... thank u Mr. Kitty #I've done read this over like 20 times and sat on my phone painstakingly proofreading it so if there's any errors--#then fuck me i guess #canon x reader

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yuujispinkhair · 5 months

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I’m just sitting thinking about Yuuji having this absolutely DUMB girlfriend like so innocently stupid to the point where it’s unbelievable and he does everything for her because of it.

So much so that Sukuna (whose his brother in this scenario) thinks that she’s trying to take advantage of him but turns out nope she’s just stupid.

I just see Sukuna unwittingly watching over her alongside Yuuji. He acts annoyed but is genuinely worried about her and starts to harbor some feelings for her himself.

Would he keep it to himself would he tell Yuuji idk but the idea is so cute to me

I feel Sukuna would say something like this to her while aggravated which will make her run crying into Yuuji arms and he just babies her

Aahahaha babe I love this 💗💗 Sukuna is SO suspicious of her! Like, he can act as annoyed with his brother as he wants, but he loves Yuuji and is super protective of him. So when he sees that girl acting dumb, as he thinks, he sees red. If someone takes advantage of Yuuji's kindness and naivety, it can only be Sukuna!!

And so he becomes a bit obsessed with watching her because he wants to expose her evil plan, which then leads to him realizing she isn't doing this with an ulterior motive in mind... And now Sukuna kind of is like, "yeah ok she and my brother are great for each other, both so naive and a bit stupid lol".

But it bugs him. He is used to looking after his brother because the world is a bad place full of assholes like Sukuna. And Yuuji is too trusting and too nice...and yet Yuuji is a strong guy who can definitely protect himself by using his fists. But his little naive girlfriend is a whole other thing. Sukuna feels SO uneasy!! A girl like that isn't safe out there! He now feels like he has a responsibility to look after her too! It drives him up the walls to see her act the way she does, and he will snap and say stuff to her that makes her cry, which then makes him feel so weird somehow when he sees the big fat tears running down her cheeks.

Of course, Yuuji is mad at him and tells him to stop being mean to his sweet girlfriend! And Sukuna rolls his eyes and is like, "Whatever, I don't give a fuck about her anyway!"

But he tries to keep his mouth shut now because seeing her cry really felt kind of shitty. And for a guy who claims to not give a fuck he really follows her around a bit too much, always ready to punch anyone who tries to take advantage of her naivety. At first, he tells himself he only does that for his brother, making sure his girlfriend is safe. But gradually Sukuna has to admit to himself that he has grown quite fond of Yuuji's girl too...

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astercontrol · 4 months

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One more thing I love about the 1982 TRON movie (yes, yet another thing!) is how subtle some details are.

This is, of course, in addition to all the parts that feel genuinely unfinished and not-well-thought-out, or are unintended side effects of some technicality in filming. I mean, I love those parts too! I love trying to figure out exactly where in between scenes Flynn could have asked Ram about Tron, since we see Ram claiming he did, even though he clearly didn't during either of the two times he was in the cell with Ram (because the part where he did ask him was cut from the script)...

...I love theorizing about the program Sark defeated in the lightcycle battle of the first scene, and whether he really reappears as a warrior-elite lightcyclist in the scene where Flynn breaks out of the game grid? (The same actor seems to reappear, probably because of limited cast. But, in-universe, does that mean he's a different program by the same User? Or did Sark spare his life on the condition that he'd defect to the MCP?)...

... And I love trying to come up with a reason why blue is the Bad-Guy color for lightcycles, despite being the Good-Guy color for armor circuitry (the out-of-universe reason is they decided on Blue=Good after all the computer animation on the lightcycles was done already, but... couldn't there be a reason within the story as well?)

My pattern-recognition-program brain loves all of that-- to me it's just a bunch of neat puzzles to solve!

And in addition to those accidental puzzles, there are also plenty of details that clearly had thought put into them, but in return also require some thought from the viewer.

Ram's User is one example of that. Even though he's just credited as "Popcorn Coworker" at that point, it must have been intentional that he's played by the same actor as Ram and is also cubicle neighbors with Alan, in a "mirroring" of their programs being cellmates. But in the original movie, this goes by in a brief, easily-missed scene, and wasn't made any clearer until Legacy and The Next Day came out. Audiences in the '80s could have figured it out, paying enough attention, but it'd take effort.

There are plenty of other examples of stuff like this, many of them just in the props and scenery-- Alan's "Gort Klaatu Barada Nikto" cubicle sign; Yori's name appearing on the monitor when the laser activates, and so on.

And the Bit thinking that Flynn is its program, with the reason implied by the unspoken fact that Clu was its program and they look the same. The scene of Flynn absorbing circuit-color from a guard, clearly without meaning to or understanding how it works-- but it makes perfect sense when you realize he probably intended to steal a uniform for disguise, and his User-Power acted on his intent to disguise himself and simply transferred the red color to him. It's a beautiful goldmine of puzzles!

And then... then there are the social subtleties; the puzzles of emotion and intention, half-concealed within the acting.

Now, as someone who's spent a lot of my life struggling with social challenges and unspoken, unclear social rules, that sort of subtlety is... not always my friend.

But, in a movie like this... a beautifully complex film that's already such a wealth of half-hidden mysteries... I can, on occasion, enjoy the emotional subtlety, seeing it as just another puzzle to figure out.

There are so many cases of a character expressing something, on the surface, that may not be quite what he's feeling deep down. For instance...

Flynn and Lora are amicable exes, seeming to harbor no resentment about their breakup. When Lora brings her new guy, Alan, to visit Flynn at the arcade, Flynn is all laughs and smiles, showing nothing but happiness...

And yet, later, we see that laughs and smiles from Flynn don't always mean happiness.

After seeing him use a cheerful face to cover up whatever anger, fear and despair he must be feeling about Dillinger and the MCP, we start to wonder... how many of the darker feelings about his past with Lora might be covered up in the same way?

Tron, too, is a master of repression. Honestly, sometimes I think he took the directive "Secure and Protect the System, Stop Bad Things from getting through the Walls!" and applied it disproportionately to the walls of his own dingus self.

Look at him speedrun a dozen stages of bottling-up-the-grief, upon learning that Ram didn't survive:

And then, look how calm and cheerful he seems to be, when faced with the potentially faith-shattering revelation that the gods don't know WTF they're doing.

Now, I personally think this isn't a case of emotional repression; it's a case of "Tron does not actually believe that for a second." He is not, at this point, at all convinced that Flynn really is a User.

His choice to say "Stranger and stranger!" instead of "Bullshit!" is the only repression here, and, in my opinion, it's an act of diplomacy on Tron's part. Tron knows that whoever this guy is, he's gonna have to keep working together with him for at least a while, so he decided not to start any unnecessary conflicts over whether he believes the User thing.

Here's another subtlety, at the end, when Tron and Yori are reunited.

Now, I don't mean Yori's explanation of what happened to Flynn, which is unusually non-subtle here. With so many details of the film's plot so expertly revealed through Showing rather than Telling, it's a surprise to see Yori explain in such clear detail just what Flynn did, and just how it helped Tron defeat the MCP... when we, as the audience, already saw all that happen, and could figure it out as well as we could figure out any of the other, more subtle bits of the plot that aren't outright explained to us.

No, the subtlety here is in Tron's reaction. He's happy to see Yori, yes-- but when she starts talking about how great Flynn was, he gets a stone-faced, tight-jawed look to him, like he's... really not all that happy to see his partner fangirling so hard over that doofus.

He looks like he might be giving some very critical thought to just where Yori might've learned that "kissing" thing she just taught him, and struggling with some... complicated feelings about that.

Really I think there is lots of evidence that the Programs (Tron, Yori and Ram) all have complicated feelings about Flynn. To me it seems clear that even when they don't realize he's a User, all three feel the pull of his User-power, perhaps to the point of overwhelming their better judgment.

All three have scenes where they seem irresistibly attracted to him. Though of course Yori's the only one who actually went through with the kiss that... all three of them seemed to be gearing up for.

But just because Tron understands what it feels like to lose control a little, getting swept away in the attraction of a User's energy...

well, that doesn't mean he's happy about it happening to Yori.

Personally I don't see it as jealousy, in the traditional monogamous User-world sense. I see it as more of:

"you do realize that guy is kind of a dumpster fire of a person, even if he is a User? I know what his energy does to you, I felt it too, and that is why I'm... concerned. He has God Powers, but by his own admission he does not really have a clue what he's even doing with them, so... well, I don't know if he's gonna come back here again, but if he does, please please be careful around him, okay?"

I swear. This movie has infinite subtext to explore. I am gonna keep finding things for YEARS.

#tron #tronblr #tron 1982 #ram tron #kevin flynn #yori

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stillcarmine · 10 days

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Some scenes for that marvel au where Leo gets abducted by aliens like in guardians of the galaxy:

I think it'd be funny if Leo doesn't show up until the absolute last second, like the beginning of Mark of Athena and his crash landing is basically what kicks starts the war.

He'd have to have some contact with the rest of the seven for this to work, and Octavian probably spins it as the quest group harboring an enemy of the state or something.

Also this means that Annabeth would have taken his spot on the Lost Hero quest, which is kind of funny, because she'd be stuck with a emotionally and logically confused Piper and Jason, and we'd actually get some conflict stemming from the differences in Roman and Greek leadership.

They're all angry- Piper because her dad is in trouble, Annabeth because Percy's still missing and Jason because he can't remember a goddamn thing- and easily irritated and about one second away from exploding and eventually they all do.

The Greeks probably make some generic ship for them to travel on, and maybe Leo upgrades it with alien stuff.

It's like. Glaringly obvious that Leo does not know anything about the mythical world.

He's actually been raised on stories of the Norse gods, so his knowledge base is inaccurate and misplaced, because like, the Norse gods on Earth are not the same as the Norse gods that he's heard about. But since none of the others know that there are terrestrial Norse gods, that doesn't come up.

So, they're trying to explain that no, the gods he's heard about aren't a thing, and Leo's like… squinting and fiddling with his fork before gesturing back and forth between the Romans and Greeks. "Okay, but y'all thought the Greeks didn't exist and the Roman's didn't exist until now so…"

No one wants to think about this on top of everything else, so they just let Leo believe what he believes. (He's right, sort of, anyway. Annabeth is not going to want to admit as much when she learns about what Magnus is up to lol)

When they're discussing rescuing Nico from the jar, Leo looks side to side and asks, "Are they trying to pickle him or something?"

Hazel's about ready to kill him, but Frank is just like. very confused. "Like cucumbers?"

Leo shrugs. He's had a childhood of threatening to be eaten, so it isn't the largest jump in logic for him.

Anyway, since he's got no opinion about either camp, he isn't opposed to going after Nico, though he does pull out a holographic battle map and starts suggesting some strategies.

Annabeth and Frank are very reluctantly fascinated.

Hazel and Leo are always commiserating or fighting over the bathrooms because Hazel's always sea sick and Leo's always throwing up from food poisoning because he's not used to earth germs.

He doesn't realize this is the issue and there's an unfortunate mishap where he tried to bond with Frank by offering him some of his snacks from space and... yeah, that was a bit of a setback on the making nice thing.

Percy took one look at Leo's leather outfit and went "Ares."

He tries to let go of this prejudice.

All the monsters they have to deal with are like, nothing compared to what's out there in the rest of the universe and Leo is deeply unimpressed by the creatures attacking them.

He doesn't have a bronze or gold weapons (and at least here that oversight makes sense).

At some point, they're fending off some beast and Leo just glances between it and the way the other demigods are fighting it with knives and swords and pulls a gun from his jacket.

It probably shouldn't work, but it's not bullets as ammo, instead some kind of energy beam doodad and the monster careens over a cliff side. Leo just leans forward to watch it fall and then goes "…cool." and walks off.

Festus has still been running wild at camp this whole time and now he's like, sensing his future buddy and waylays the quest group before they leave the States. Maybe it happens when the Romans catch up with them and Festus unintentionally saves them/ buys them time to escape.

THIS GUY, Leo is impressed with.

They don't realize what the storm or fire line means for the LONGEST just because Leo just never thinks about his fire. Like, he didn't tell any of them about it, he kind of came to think he had some kind of alien ancestry over the years and so it doesn't have anything to do with this mythic stuff in his mind yet.

Anyway, that means that Jason and Frank think it's about them (ayyy frason ) and that's just a whole big thing when Leo realizes what's going on. It would have been pretty interesting if the final outcome of the prophecy had come down to a decision made by both a Greek and Roman actually. Hm.

Anyway, with all of this in play, it might actually come down to Frank dying to stop Gaea instead of Leo, simply because the expectations were different, and that Leo doesn't have as strong of connection to this world or the rest of the seven. Which is an interesting take/explanation for Nemesis's warning to him about never finding a place with his brethren. Hm...

Anyway, either Leo dies, or Frank dies and Leo has to like. Actually, face reality because he's lost someone again and he blames himself for that death and he can't keep running, but it's not so simple because he doesn't know where or what home is.

He'd probably end up going back to space, but eventually he'd have to come back for his own peace of mind.

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valorantmenheadcanons · 2 years

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I'm a slut for this scenario, so I would like to request how the guys of your choosing would react to being in a really tiny and closed space with their crush? Ex, in a closet or in between a wall fjdnjxnd gender neutral pls! Thank you and I wish you luck for your blog 😖❤️‍🩹

Ty 💚 btw anyone else getting wacked out spelling harbors name like harbor and not harbour cos every time I do it just feels Wrong

Sova

- Sova is a big guy alright, we all know that

- that means he’s getting real close with his crush right now

- if you’re looking for it, you can feel his heartbeat. It gets faster the longer y’all are smushed together

- honestly this probably happened on a mission and was a duck-for-cover gone wrong

- so he’s like. Mildly out of breath, his eyes are all intense from the fighting

- if you ask, the blush creeping up his neck is just from exertion, totally not because he can feel you pressed against him the way he’s imagined so often

- he wants the moment to last, wants to keep looking down at you but there is a mission and he is the golden boy

Cypher

- this one also happened on a mission

- cypher was set up for surveillance and had covered his hiding spot to hell and back with tripwires and cages

- thoughtful you went to go check on him, tripped about 48 times, and narrowly avoided stepping on a piece of his equipment

- in the process of Not Dying, you end up knocking cypher against the wall

- and hoooooooo man if that doesn’t do it for him a little bit

- fr tho he is.. well he’s cypher so he’s gonna be suave and be grateful he wears a mask so you can’t see his dopey smile because cmon that was kinda endearing

- doesn’t mean you can’t hear it in his voice as he teases you tho

- “you should really look where you’re going habibi”

- he likes seeing your eyes this close, he thinks they’re beautiful

Chamber

- you and chamber were having a petty argument about weapon design whilst walking down the hallways of the VP headquarters

- he’s passionate about it and thinks he knows better than you

- so to get your point across, you pull on his tie to bring his head close to yours

- you figured he’d keep his balance but poor chamber wasn’t expecting that at all and one hundred percent stumbles forward

- now you’re caught off guard and both of you end up crashing backwards into crates of supplies left in the hallway

- thankfully for chambers ego, he holds himself up against the crates so that he’s leaned over you and you’re trapped between his arms holding his tie like an idiot

- and because he is chamber, he flirts

- “if you wanted me closer, all you had to do was ask. Best not to make a mess, non?”

Yoru

- remember how in retake phoenix ziplines with his gun or whatever

- so he’s bragging about that and yoru is like “watch this” and tries to do it too but Cooler B)

- so a small group of you are gathered in the practice room, watching yoru zipline across the room

- except he slips 3/4 of the way down and crashes right into you

- y’all end up falling back into a cramped space meant to be rubble

- his pride- but also he’s worried about you because he did kind of just fall on you

- you’re fine, just a few lil scrapes

- the embarrassment on yoru’s face makes up for him falling on you

- he’s totally trying to brush it off, especially in front of you and the other agents, but you saw that genuine care he has for you

Omen

- you’re hunting around in one of the little supply closets on the base when omen teleports in

- he was looking for some of his yarn that he’d ordered and didn’t expect anyone else to be in the closet

- so he teleports in and jump scares you basically

- he catches you by instinct but the supply closet really was not made for more than one person to be in it at a time, especially with all the stuff in there

- it’s a little cramped but he feels too awkward to teleport out now. And also he wants his yarn

- this close, you can really see the way his slits get bigger and smaller repetitively, mimicking a kind of blinking

- his hands are cold too, where they’re on your shoulders to steady you

- bless his heart, he doesn’t know what to say except for a quiet “sorry”

- you laugh it off and ask him what he was looking for

- “yarn.”

- if you pay close attention you can see that his face slits are growing brighter than they usually do and some of his shadowy smoke seeps from under his hood

- you help him find his yarn but not before omen moves to stand in the doorway instead so you have space

- he flexes his claws as he watches you, a nervous habit he’s picked up over the years

- y’all have some idle chit chat about what he’s working on. Omen even offers to keep you company while you do whatever

Phoenix

- he trips and falls forward onto you

- it’s not graceful At All

- he’s kinda dumbfounded, holding himself up with his hands by your head

- 1. He’s embarrassed but 2. Holy shit he’s this close to you and the way you’re looking at him

- huh that’s weird the heater came on but only in the common room

- “you okay phoenix?”

- that snaps him out of his little moment and he scrambles back on his feet to help you up

- he apologises so much but really it’s fine, accidents happen! Still, he feels like he wants to make it up to you in some way

- you suggest watching a movie

- and if you snuggle a little closer during it, it’s just cos he’s warm and toasty ;)

Kayo

- it happens on the way back from a mission

- y’all are in the back of the vulture

- you’re behind Kayo cleaning gunk and dirt off of him when y’all experience some turbulence

- you were standing to clean him and end up getting jostled around

- you probs would’ve fallen on your face had he not reacted ultra fast and pulled you close to him

- you’re basically in his lap now

- like Phoenix, his body heats up and it’s totally just a robot thing, no other reason

- you’re startled, being this close to Kayo

- but since you’re here now, you start cleaning the front of him too

- this is what makes him short circuit lmao

- the fact that he’s fully capable of doing it himself but you’re cleaning him just to be nice

- the face you make in concentration, picking at a spot that won’t come off- that’s his new favourite face of yours. The way your eyebrows pull together a little, a bit of a nose scrunch as you peer closer

- he has never felt so cared for by a human before

Harbor

- some of the younger agents wanted to see harbors powers so he was showing off a little bit

- poor you turned the corner at just the right time to be smacked in the face by a wall of water

- okay he laughs a little bit but he is immediately apologising

- he pulls you behind him to a bathroom and gets a towel to dry you off

- you just kind of let him dry at least your head off. You’ll go change into different clothes after

- he’s very meticulous in drying you off and when he gets to your hair he ruffles it with the towel

- you shriek and try to duck away from him but he is having way too much fun with this

- he finally stops when you put your hands over his and damn that big stupid smile on his big stupid face

- “you look like a wet sewer rat”

- you fake gasp and try to hold back a smile

- and harbor is just thinking about how he could get addicted to seeing that

Breach

- one of his arms came off during a mission so you’re hanging out with him in his room while kj fixes it

- he gets up to get smth but doesn’t realise how off balance he is without the other arm. I mean those things have gotta be fuckin Heavy

- so he instantly starts tilting over and then you shoot up to help balance him

- but he’s too far gone and now you’re falling with him

- at least you land on his chest which is softer than a metal arm

- he’s kind of at a loss for words though and the fact that you’re basically laying on top of him does not help his brain function

- for once he has nothing to say

- which is only worrying to you

- “are you ok? That looked like it hurt. Sorry for falling on you too”

- he’s totally fine except for not being able to get that image of you out of his head

- he totally imagines you cuddling up to him while sleeping now

Brimstone

- not to be an old man but he definitely got a sharp knee pain and stumbled

- you made him sit down so you could make sure he was ok, that it wasn’t bruised or anything after a mission

- he’s fine just aging but the thought makes him feel fuzzy inside

- he tries to reassure you he’s okay but you seriously insist on taking him to see sage or Skye just to make sure there’s nothing wrong

- he secretly adores how doting you can be and won’t complain if you stick close to him for a bit after

#valorant #valorant chamber #valorant cypher #valorant omen #valorant sova #valorant kayo #valorant yoru #valorant fanfiction #valorant x reader #valorant headcanons #valorant phoenix #valorant breach #valorant brimstone #valorant harbor

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