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triple-7-heaven · 1 year

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ONCE AGAIN

thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-) pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy

Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were.

One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…”

“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked.

“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret.

Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her.

The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be.

Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard.

“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.

“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush.

“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly.

“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs.

“Uh… I don’t-”

“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”

“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation…

“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary.

“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave.

“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world.

“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.”

Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom.

“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats.

“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest.

“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.

“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too.

“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway.

“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat.

“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask.

“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.”

“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?”

“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect…

“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear.

“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot…

“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn.

“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you.

“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.

“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines.

“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh.

“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”

“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you.

Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be.

“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid…

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say.

God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously?

“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.

Oh. To hang out?

“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute.

NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang.

But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles.

“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!”

She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.

“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”

“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,

Sixth floor.

The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face.

“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms.

“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly.

“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”

“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch.

“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.

“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.

“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.”

“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.”

“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”

“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.

“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water.

“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front.

“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers.

“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag.

“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.

Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal.

Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera.

“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her.

“Yeah, these are good,” you say.

“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?”

“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool.

“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist.

“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there.

“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.”

Really?

“Why?”

“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay?

“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say.

“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen.

“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.

“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”

Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before.

“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.

“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband.

“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.

“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…”

“What if someone-”

“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in.

After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there.

Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.

"What do you like?" you ask.

"I… I don't know."

"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"

"That's embarrassing…"

"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"

"..."

"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit.

“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving.

“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.

“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit.

“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions.

Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off.

It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you?

“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy.

“What?” she giggles.

“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble.

“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.”

‘Baby.’

Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically.

“God, so full…” she moans.

“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…”

“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling.

“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips.

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…”

“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”

“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.”

Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest.

“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says.

“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.

“Of course.”

After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her.

“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.”

“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.

Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily.

“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…”

“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.

Fuck.

“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing.

“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows.

Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.

“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…”

And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp.

“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back.

“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly.

“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.

For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind.

Is this what it feels like?

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows.

“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.

“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. ��I mean I feel like something brought us together.”

“What do you want to do about it?” you ask.

“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.”

Together? A journey?

“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep.

Is this part gonna go in the blog post?

#aespa fanfic #winter x male reader #aespa x reader #aespa x male reader #aespa smut #winter smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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lambsouvlaki · 9 months

Text

For the Hell of It - Praise (*)

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: NSFW, smut.

Word count: 909

Summary: a tender moment together.

Masterlist

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Jason’s bed was large and luxurious, and it had a satisfying bounce when he dropped her on it.

She looked up at him.

He stood at the foot of the bed, watching her like a tiger eyeing its next meal as he peeled off his layers. His eyes were dark and hungry. The ironclad restraint he had displayed up to now was starting to fray.

Her clothes had been discarded on route, her hair was a tousled mess, and her chest was still heaving. The curtains were closed, the rest of the world shut away. Nobody existed but the two of them in the semi dark.

Naked, he put a calloused hand on her bent knee, and gently ran it down her thigh.

“This all for me?” he asked, with a crooked smile. Like he hadn’t put his hands to work already, making doubly, triply sure she was ready for him.

“So damn cocky,” she said, nudging him with her foot.

“With the way you look at me? You betcha.”

“Shut up and get down here.”

He climbed over her, settling between her legs.

It had become a familiar dance as her body learned the needs of his, and vice versa. His sheer size, at first an alarming and exciting prospect when looming over her, was a comfort now. The white shock of hair hung above his eyes as he looked down at her.

She ran her legs up his sides, bracketing him. He kissed her slowly as he entered her.

He pulled back to draw in a long shaky breath. She ran a hand up the back of his neck, playing with the soft hairs at his nape. His eyes drifted closed.

The cockiness never lasted. The vulnerability left in its absence stole her breath every time.

“Are you alright?” he asked on a whisper.

She cupped the back of his head and kissed his temple. “I’m perfect, baby. You?”

“Yeah.”

Only then he started to move, a hand anchored to her hip. The other arm was braced against the bed above her head.

In many ways Jason was a very complicated man. He had so many opaque and unscalable walls there was no way through unless he explicitly let you in. In other ways he was quite simple.

“You feel so good inside me, Jay,” she said. “Taking such good care of me.”

The noise he made was so tender, so vulnerable. So unlike the hard shell he wore even in the privacy of his own home. She wanted to hide him under the covers, hold him tight and ward away the world. Mine, she wanted to snarl at everyone who would claim their pound of flesh.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck.

Out in the daylight he didn’t know how to accept praise or even gratitude. He had no use for fame or glory. But in the dark when nobody was looking, was it so shocking that a man who would destroy himself for a cause he believed in, wanted to be told he was doing a good job?

He put on such a show for her every time they were together. Showing off, sure, but it was all for her enjoyment. He never even touched himself until she was already on the edge, if not already toppled over it.

And as soon as she could give him any pleasure, he got shy about it.

This man.

He rocked into her with a neediness that set her heart aflutter. She wound a leg around his waist and wrapped an arm across the flexing expanse of his back.

“Keep talking, baby,” he said.

She moaned in contentment. “I can feel you stretching me with every thrust. Feels divine.” She ignored the warmth in her cheeks at the filth from her own mouth. It was for him, but it was adding to her own pleasure as well. “You’re so thick. So satisfying.”

He made a guttural groan that made her toes curl and her core clench. Her breath against his ear was shaky.

“I feel so full,” she whispered. “So safe.” So loved.

He rocked into her a little harder.

“Nowhere I’d rather be than underneath you, Jason.” She nibbled his ear lobe. “Except, maybe, on top of you.”

He laughed, breathy and helpless, and only a hair shy of a whine.

“Tough luck,” he said, mouthing her neck. “I called dibs tonight.”

She grinned, perilously close to the edge again.

“Give it to me a little harder.”

“Like that, sweetheart?”

“Yesss, just like that. Oh, that’s good, Jay, that’s so good.”

He brushed her hair back from her face and gazed down at her. His eyes were dark and desperate, green shot through blue.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice choked.

She cupped his cheek and grazed his cheekbone with her thumb.

“Yes you do,” she said fiercely. “You deserve the world.”

He groaned low in his chest, and his pace stuttered.

She reached up to kiss him and swallowed his groans of ecstasy. His hand moved to her thigh wrapped around his hip and gripped her hard. She bound him in her arms and held him as he fell apart.

He shivered and bucked into her in great wracking bursts of pleasure, tipping her over the edge into her own sweet, rolling climax. Her eyes squeezed tight, and his name sighed on her lips.

Jason curled around her and his heartbeat thundered against her chest.

She felt like she held the whole world in her hands.

Next>>

#buried beneath the layers upon layers of snark and rage and abandonment and desperation #Jason Todd has a praise kink #soft jason #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x oc #my fanfic #red hood x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #for the hell of it #dc #fluff #smut

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winonaparadise · 7 months

Text

short story 💯

wrote a very quick story about a class i took in college. if you like my writing in my videos you may like this

Five years ago today I was clawing through state university. I had switched majors in an effort to come away with something more material from my college experience – but I was also trying to earn as many credits with as few courses to keep my schooling short and cheap.

I took a heavy weighted class in “media law.” A subject notoriously as intricate as it is absolutely fucking stupid. Anything you could learn, Disney will change tommorrow. The professor was an adjunct, splitting his time between the humble basement where boys with Pulp Fiction posters in their dorms fiddled with cameras and the actual law school where he was employed some miles down the road. I have never seen Pulp Fiction, but I’ve fiddled with enough cameras and enough of the boys who own them to have reviewed it twice. This is not a problem to me now.

Then I was stupid. Twenty. And basically friendless. I spent all my time trying to make something the same way the universe spent billions of years pouring hot soup into holes and hoping life would bubble out. I studied Japanese during quiet matches of PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds. I never got a win, and I never got an “A” in Japanese.

Weeks of school went by as I skimmed textbooks, got high, and thought about talking to literally anyone. Academic words danced around the edges of my brain like sand. I wrote essays on the same autopilot I write today. Feverish. Flowing. Fantasizing about what it would be like to go out with someone instead of texting a girl who now lived in Japan and making ramen noodles while listening for footsteps in a digital warzone.

I did all my work. I submitted it on something called “canvas” that the muscle memory in my fingers still types in search bars to this day. I never checked my grades. I knew they were bad.

Classes dragged me through the week on a bungee cord. I lived a block away from the bulk of them and found myself drifting in halls of buildings I’d never attended just to keep myself from meandering back home to draw a bad comic about a girl who lived in hell.

I knew nobody. I went nowhere. I struggled to do classwork alone on outdoor benches dreaming of someone speaking to me. I needed to live in hell instead.

My media law professor was late the weekend after our first term essays were due. I don’t know what mode of transportation he took to get from one school to the other but today the Carolina sun had drenched him sweaty. We were chilly waiting for him to begin.

“Just about every single one of you failed.” He spat and chugged coffee through the entire period. “While I first was grading I thought I was the one who failed.”

He didn’t let the moment of respite last. “But I also did something I’ve never done before.” He paced like my father did when a restaurant was closed early. “I gave out my first perfect score. Which prevents me from grading on a curve.”

He huffed, he assigned a new reading, and he rushed out like he had lit dynamite. “Do better!” “What an asshole.” The girl who sat next to me in every class spoke as if she had been holding her breath. “Fuck him and fuck whoever got that hundred.”

“I know right!” I launched in on her anger, feeling it too. Back and forth we complained. We walked off campus together. She had long blonde hair and towered over me. I had felt ugly and mousey next to her, but today I felt like her equal. It felt good to bitch.

“I got a fucking 50. What about you?”

“It wasn’t pretty.” I recalled how I stayed up the night before the assignment was due. I milked bullshit into a puree. I got a rush of adrenaline from killing someone with a shotgun through a door in an abandoned house on the outskirts of Pochinki. I was probably close to being expelled. “This class is too fucking hard,” she smoked and shook her head by a bus stop on Tate Street. “I’m not about to lose my freetime over it.”

“Right.” I imagined her at parties. Black silhouettes against colored lights and deafening music. Like The Social Network. “We should be partners for the next assignment,” she got out her phone and passed it to me for my number. I typed it in. I waved her off on the bus. We did the assignment together. We texted each other about our studies. We joked about finding the guy who got the perfect score and beating him senseless. I thought about talking to her about my art or what we were making in other classes, but never did.

Towards the end of the semester I had to plan the next. A whirlpool churned in my stomach as I clicked on “grades” on my campus’ online portal. I had an A+ in a single course.

Media Law.

My friend from class texted me that she was dreading the final. I texted her that if we failed I would kill Mr. Perfect Score. She texted “lol.”

She passed the course. I got my degree so I assume I did too. We stopped texting.

That professor emailed me asking me to take a course at the law school down the road. He said he would let me sit in and see if I wanted to change majors a third time. I never replied.

A law degree would just make Mr. Perfect Score a hundred times more punchable.

#short story #nonfiction #drugs cw

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freedomfireflies · 9 months

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I’m very curious how Mine Harry and Y/N met, like was she working an event that he attended and she just captured his attention immediately? He messaged or whispered to Asher to find out everything about her before the event ends. Or maybe she worked at a shop he frequented or he spotted her, had Asher find out about her and then he started to frequent where she worked. I don’t know 🤷‍♀️ but I’m very curious how they came to be

(Hi omg I'm so sorry it took me so long, I was saving it so I could sit down and write a little something and really think about it, I'M SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT 😭💞)

I think he met her long before she met him! Ran into her at the last place you'd expect: a library.

He went there a lot because it reminded him of his childhood. The smell of old books, the crinkle of the covers, and the cozy corners where he could get lost in a story.

It was his one indulgence and it didn't exactly fit his "persona" (not that he really cared but he didn't want anyone to catch him with his guard down and vulnerable), so he didn't go very often. He didn't tell anyone. Not even Asher.

He saw her. Sitting across the room, reading a book he knew all too well. A book he loved. He watched her smile as she read. Watched her frown as she flipped the page and he wondered which part she might be at. He spent the entire afternoon watching her and she had no clue.

And when she left, his heart went with her.

He thought about her for days after, which was really surprising to him because he didn't have time to think about anyone or anything else. He thought about what her giggle sounded like. Her hair. Her eyes. Her nails as they danced down the spine of the book.

He went back to that library and nearly scared the shit out of the poor librarian when demanding to know who had last checked out that book.

Learned her name, did a bit of a search, and found that she was working nearby.

You are totally right about having Asher secretly hire her to work his next event. He watched her all night, made sure nobody bothered her, and made sure she didn't get overworked.

He didn't speak to her until after everyone had already left, and he followed her to the break room.

Introduced himself, told her she did an excellent job, and then asked if she'd like to get some air.

He took her to the roof. The conversation was perfect. Easy and effortless, like they'd known each other a hundred years. They stared at the stars, they talked about their lives, and Harry shared more with her than he had ever shared with anyone. Rivaling Asher on some topics.

He couldn't let her go after that. And she couldn't let him go, either.

It wasn't until a couple years into their relationship that he admitted to seeing her at the library and somewhat stalking her.

She thought it was adorable, and whispered that she wished he would have come up to her then. But she wouldn't change their meeting for the world!!

#harry #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles mine #mine #harry and asher #mine harry ask

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carsonnieve · 11 months

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masterpost of my fics on ao3

Just doing this because I want to have something pinned on my page here but well, a reminder of my old fics from different fandoms because kudos and comments are appreciated as well so it motivates me to keep on writing. Hopefully there's new ones updated soon as long as my inspiration kicks in.

Currenly working on two mevie fics so let's see how that goes!

username: carsonnieve

Let's start with the ones that are completed and I'm really proud of.

it's always about fate pairing: beca and chloe (pitch perfect) rating: T

Summary: Chloe sighed and walked in the coffee shop with the phone in her hands. She didn’t want to have this conversation today and yet there she was, talking about it when she just wanted a coffee and have a relaxing afternoon writing down new ideas for her stories and not pining over her online friend. Then the moment she looked up she saw someone she really wanted to see too and the reason why her heart was so divided and yet confusing. Beca.

2. unsay these spoken words pairing: regina mills and emma swan (once upon a time) rating: T

Summary: Because maybe, after all, she could take the pain and continue with her life. But maybe she thought she could, when actually her heart was already broken and the scattered pieces all over her chest were not enough to make her realize that she was alone, and hurt. She had hope... until she saw the ring on her finger.

3. fool for you pairing: harry hook x evie grimhilde (descendants) rating: T

Summary: Her smile forever gone after the images came back to her mind, sending chills all over her body and a strange feeling going slowly up her spine. And in that instant, she closed her eyes. Right when it hit her. Right when Harry stood up and placed a hand on her arm. “It reminds ye o’ that night, eh?"

4. let me pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: T

Summary: "Mal?" "I'm fine. Let's change and go dance, okay?" The girl tried to slip away from her arms but Evie kept holding her because she knew something was off. And it was right there, in that hug, when she felt a sting of pain way worse than the last. Her hand immediately went to her skin to keep it hidden. But Evie's eyes were already on the injury. And Mal was so ready to hear her complain about the dress she just destroyed because she wasn't careful enough with it. And to be honest, she just couldn't deal with that in that exact moment.

5. watch me ride the beat pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: E

Summary: “Oh! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking.” Wow, she’s even prettier in front of me. Evie thought with both of her hands on her shoulders for support, as the blonde’s hands kept a hold on her hips, keeping her still. “I’m really sorry.” The brunette ran her fingers through her hair and her other hand touched the girl’s nape, without her even noticing it. She seemed to be too busy holding Evie by her waist. Her fingers slightly touching her bare back. “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention either.” or the smutty club!au fic no one asked for but i needed to write

and here comes the unfinished ones but that will be finished one day, trust me.

some things are meant to be pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: M

Summary: Everyone knew what a soulmate was back in Auradon, where princes and princesses lived their own happily ever after. Where their parents taught them what true love was without fear. Needless to say they believed in their own destiny but the idea of having a soulmate was so exciting for all of them. But back on The Isle… Descendants of pure evil weren’t fond of the idea, especially considering what their parents taught them; "love is not for us, love is weakness, we’re villains and you are our next generation to take over the world and finally get the revenge we so desire." But everything changed when four of them were sent to Auradon. And it all started when two girls were 6 years old... or the Soulmate!AU nobody asked for but I really wanted to write.

2. to find the light even in the darkest places pairing: mal and evie (descendants + shadowhunters universe) rating: E

Summary: Evie and Harry are two of the best shadowhunters of their generation. They never get in trouble and they always get the job perfectly done… until they go on a mission and everything starts to change and leads them into an unexpected path. Should they continue their normal lives or live as they want to without thinking of the consequences? Is it more important to find and follow love than their duties as shadowhunters and working for the Clave? Even when a new source of evil arises and things start to get more serious… is everything worth fighting for? It all starts with a simple order from the Clave… or the shadowhunters!au no one asked for but we needed to write

There's also two in Spanish in case I have followers who actually speaks the language and not just me and the last one is one of my favorites from my favorite couple so please check it out, thanksssss!!

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sp1rit-realm · 3 months

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₊‧꒰ა 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ⧿ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐩𝐬! 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞!

Happy 900!!!! Ummm Marauders maybe? but if you think someone else fits better I assure you I don’t mind.

Where to start, i’m pretty quiet, like very very soft spoken until im really comfortable in a room. Once I know someone I’m still quiet in volume but then i can talk for at least 15 minutes straight without losing my rhythm and i get very very animated, lots of facial expressions, too many hands waving around. I like reading but I can’t call myself a bookworm because I take too long to finish them and usually give up so i’m more of a book dragon. I love writing and art and being creative and I love to learn but i hate to be graded. My favorite color is burgundy and my favorite season is whatever one it currently is until the very end and i’m sick of it, then i like whichever one is coming next. I like to collect things and i’m way too sentimental. I like rain and leather jackets and i don’t know if you want any physical attributes but im short enough that literally everyone comments when i wear tall shoes (i have platform doc martins with a heel so it’s only like 4 inches which i guess is a lot over all but even then Im only up to like 5’6-‘7 barely) And my hair is stuck an almost auburn color because I dyed it dark plum/burgundy in november and now the final claws of goldish red are dug in and i don’t see it letting go, which is especially annoying because my roots are returning much lighter than i last remember but I’ve been dying my hair since at least last June so i don’t know what I really expected. I have identity crises over my hair at least every other week.

In terms of how I love people it’s very much however it works with that person. I like when people like to pay attention to me and look for me in a room and that kind of thing, I also really like to be held and have my hair played with,,,,i find dogs very relatable (but don’t let that sway your decision in anyway, do what your heart tells you)

I’m sure 900 people leads to a lot of asks, but i have no idea, so please take your time and don’t feel rushed or obligated at all. I am so proud of this milestone for you and i’m so proud of all the people coming to their senses to appreciate such a talented spirit like you 💖💖💖

HI MARA!!!!!! THANK U SO MUCH

if you mean marauders era in general, i say (drumroll please)

you and dorcas!

to me, her character is very laid back, but secretly she's so passionate. like, she pretends she doesn't care, but really secretly does. she would adore all the things you collect, and will listen to anything you have to say about them. she'd still have to lean down to kiss you. she would say, "really? new hair again, mara?" and then she would whisper to you, "it's cute, makes your eyes pop." because nobody can know that she adores anybody, until you become official. then, she can't stop talking about you. she will read books to you as you lay your head on her lap, hair being played with. she would dance with you in the rain. she would steal your jacket because it smells like you, and because it means everybody knows you're hers. she would sit and listen to you rant/ramble/infordump and watch lovingly as your mouth moves a mile a second and your tongue gets all twisted. she would hang up your art, proudly displaying it as to say: "yeah, my girlfriend? they're perfect, and talented, and beautiful, and look at this art they made." she would kick someone's teeth in for you, and she winks at you during her quidditch games, loving how much you blush; stark red in the sea of green.

#mara ✩‧₊˚#i had so much fun with this #dorcas meadowes #mara and dorcas my new otp #hannah has asks #₊‧꒰ა 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#₊‧꒰ა 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#sp1rit realm

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momochizoey · 2 years

Text

An excerpt of the multi chapter Chasefield fic I'm currently working on:

“OMG, V, don’t be obvious, but look at the hippie. She totally spaced out and broke that dumb camera of hers.”

Victoria rolled her eyes at Taylor. As if she was ever obvious about spying unless she wanted to be. What is she, an amateur? Still, she leaned back in her seat, changing the angle she was sitting at as if she was getting more comfortable listening to Mr Jefferson. She kept her gaze on him attentively for a few seconds longer (not like that was much of a chore) before she flicked her eyes to the side.

Taylor was right: Max’s camera looked busted, loose parts gathered here and there on the table, and she was visibly stressing out trying to put it back together.

Victoria almost laughed and whispered a snide remark towards Max, when suddenly the words caught in her throat.

A cloud had parted outside as Max was bent over her camera, her knuckles pressed against the side of her head. The hair falling in front of her face was lit up with a golden glow in the rays of the sun, and the soft shadow and light playfully danced across her frowning face.

Before she could think about what she was doing, she reached down to her bag. She took out her camera, aimed it at the vision before her, and with no extra thought, no perfecting the settings, no changing the depth of field, she shot.

The click of her camera snapped her out of it. Hurriedly, she tried to hide her camera again, hoping nobody saw-

“Victoria. I know this is a photography class, and I understand the urge to capture an image can feel overwhelming. But please, pay attention. I don’t get paid to talk at you, I’m here to teach you, and I can’t do that if you aren’t listening when I speak.”

She flinched at Mr Jefferson's reprimand, blushing as she noticed the rest of the class was staring at her.

She scrambled for a convincing cover story. "I'm so sorry Mr Jefferson, I just bumped into my camera bag, and I thought I saw a scratch on the lense and wanted to see if it showed up on a picture. I was paying attention though, you were talking about chiaroscuro? That's like, the interplay between light and dark, right? Like Diane Arbus?"

He sighed. "That's correct Victoria. But please, next time, wait until after class?"

She nodded, and, ignoring her friends' inquisitive looks, she sank into her seat with her arms crossed in front of her.

What the hell was that? Why did Max-fucking-Selfield cause her to completely lose her mind? She was in the middle of class! And not just any other boring class, but Mark Jefferson's class!

And then that picture! It was like she completely forgot everything her parents had taught her about the exact art of photography! It was entirely unprofessional, the environment was completely uncontrolled, the lighting wasn't coming from a precisely calculated angle, her model (whose identity she refused to think about for the moment) wasn't posed to her exact directions to evoke the specific emotions she had determined in advance. Frankly, she was almost convinced she must've damaged her camera by forcing it to take such a terrible photo.

She shot the cause of this… lapse of judgement, a look of disdain, only to startle at the intense stare the normally timid hipster had aimed her way.

Something behind those blue, usually doe-like eyes, had turned its attention to Victoria, and she could almost see the cogs turning in her skull.

For a second, she wondered if this is how prey felt.

Then Max blinked, and the feeling disappeared.

I've been working on this fic for weeks now, and I'm currently about 7k words in? But while I want to have more chapters ready before I actually start publishing it, I got too impatient and had to share this first scene with you all here! Consider it a teaser! Anyway, I hope you like it! Life Is Strange, and especially Maximum Victory/Chasefield has (once again) taken over my heart, and I'm so excited for the moment I can share the full and completed story with you. Which is definitely coming, I'm in a pretty good writing groove and I know where I'm going, so look forward to it!

#Life is Strange #Maximum Victory #Chasefield #Victoria Chase #Max Caulfield #so excited for this #I'll be honest I don't even know how active this fandom is right now #but you know how it goes when the inspiration grabs you and forcefully drags you with it #zoey wrestles with writing #Muse on my Mind

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madlori · 2 years

Text

A snippet from “Flagstaff”

my original novel.

scene: my protagonist, Coda Bentley (a Toughy McLadyCop, although I enjoy subverting tropes) is talking to her best friend Jeannine about Coda’s boyfriend of two months.

---

“Well, nobody’s perfect. Except maybe Tavian,” she said, cutting a sly glance at Coda.

“God, he’s definitely not perfect.” Coda took another swig of beer. “I’m -- hmm.”

“What?”

“I miss him but having the house to myself the past few days, I’ve had time to do some thinking.”

“Don’t tell me you’re talking yourself out of it.”

“No, I just mean that it’s coming down to the wire. Most men last about two to three months with me, before it starts in with the impatience, and for them to start wondering how long until their manly affections allow me to blossom and release my inner Julia Roberts.”

“You have an inner Julia Roberts?”

“Fuck, no. They just assume I do.”

“And has Tavian shown any sign of…”

Coda shifted in her chair. “He will.”

“You really think he wants you to be different, somehow?”

“I don’t know what he wants.” She sighed. “I’ve let it go on too long. I’ve let him get far too close. I have to know for sure.”

“What do you mean?”

Coda hesitated, intuiting what Jeannine would probably think of what she was about to say. “I have a -- a sort of test. For men.”

“A test? Like the SAT?”

“More of a practical exam.”

“Why am I just now hearing about this?”

Coda shrugged. “It’s something I started doing in my twenties. I haven’t dated seriously since I moved here when you’d be privy to all the deets.”

“Huh.” Jeannine looked confused. “What is this test, then?”

“I arrange for us to attend an event or go to a nice restaurant. I put on the whole shebang. Fancy dress, lots of makeup, do my hair -- wear high heels.”

Jeannine bristled a little. “And those are bad things?”

“Not at all. They’re just not me things.”

“I see. And what is the point of this?”

“Their reaction.” Coda thought for a moment, trying to work out how best to explain this. “If they gush all over me dressed like that, I know it’s over. And that’s always what happens. They get wide-eyed and puff up, because they think that at last I’ve realized that they’re the One Special Man who’ll let me be a Real Woman, and isn’t that awesome. They tell me I look beautiful, and wax on about how good it must feel for me. There’s always that subtext that I must be so grateful that their manly validation has set me free. And a little relief that maybe now I’ll be a more -- comfortable sort of woman.” Coda sat back. “They all want that moment, you know, the one in the teen movies where the ‘ugly’ girl comes down the stairs for the big dance having had a makeover, because now that she has a boy who likes her, she can become beautiful. That’s what they think will happen. That’s the me they imagined, the one they were trying to get to the whole time.” She took a swig of beer. “So I show it to them. And I watch them. And it happens, every single time.”

“You’re going to test Tavian this way?”

Coda stared at the beer bottle. “The police and sheriff’s holiday party is next weekend. I already asked him to come with me.”

Jeannine shook her head. “Don’t you think he’s earned a little more benefit of the doubt?”

“Maybe. But -- I have to know, Jeannie. I can’t wait anymore.”

Jeannine nodded. They fell silent, the White House Christmas tree being decorated on the screen before them. Coda stared out the window, thinking of the dress she’d already bought for the test, hanging in the back of her closet.

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forbiddensaintessandsinner · 2 years

Text

Her Digital World

-Polisionalle Episode 4-

________________________________________

“C'est Magnifique, it looks perfect for this scene." Flynn looked at the background after both Junko and Freya had finished working on it. But it wasn’t before long when Nanoya walked up to Freya as Flynn got distracted, their eyes met after the owl had noticed him.

"Could you follow me for a moment?” He asked, which Freya got slightly curious. She left Cynthia who she waved goodbye and then followed the vice-dorm leader and he brought her to one of the decoration storage rooms.

“There was something I wanted to discuss with you which I couldn’t before Flynn… You see… there have been some odd occurrences during the plays… Given you are an outsider, you can probably do more than me. I try to track down if anyone is currently sabotaging things. Mainly because we have an important play for Flynn…” He explained as Freya listened to his words.

So… Multiple stage accidents involving the incoming play?

It wasn’t before long as Freya heard Umi’s words in her head.

[Mama! But we can’t get involved in this-] The female familiar spoke but-

“I beg of you, please… Flynn has been a childhood friend and has been the dearest to me and… this is his chance to get to the professional actors. I don’t want him to get hurt or miss out on anything…" Nanoya continued.

Freya looked a little unsure while Umi stayed still, not wanting to catch suspiscoin for Nanoya who didn’t notice the moving white bracelet (which was hidden in the sleeves of Freya’s long hoodie) and was waiting for Freya’s cooperation, the response was a silent nod.

"I think I do want to start by asking some of the dorm members but…. It’s actually hard for me to approach female students… let’s say each time I get near a female… I get bad memories and get nervous…I wanted to ask if you could help out. Given you did talk to Rubina and some of the others too…not only that. Just watch things during the plays so we can make sure anyone is safe…” The vice-dorm explained that he sounded a little desperate and his eyes looked more somber and worried.

It didn’t take for Freya to learn about his fear after.

Fear of women… Best to not make him uncomfortable if I don’t want to activate it then, I have to remember that.

“You shouldn’t tell anyone but it is enough if you just talk to them." The white-haired men asked as Freya silently nodded

Then he left the storage room and waved to me getting back to Flynn and the others. Flynn and Rubina slowly danced for a Scene of the play and despite knowing how Rubina was not the fondest of them they both seemed to act it out well. Freya seemed to notice the detail alongside Cynthia.

"They look so pretty… I wish I could do the main role with him…” Kasumi smiled while looking at them, wondering what was like to be a part of the main role with him. Additional of giving both female half-myths a hint that she’s one of Flynn’s female admirers.

“By the way Fae-chan, ever since I got sorted here. I kinda got into a bad view from the dorm leader and vice dorm leader a little bit when knew that I’m a noble but only middle, I kinda got that hint despite not seeing it.” Cynthia whispered close to Freya’s ear, but nobody noticed it.

-[So… It means-]-

“Yeah, I kinda laying it low for now… I think…” Cynthia whispered which the owl half-myth got her answer of not wanting to stand out, but she sounded a little low in her tone.

But however as Flynn swayed for the next part of the act, it was then suddenly a spotlight fell down, Flynn pulling Rubina swiftly away to not get hit as it crashes to the floor.

Many including Freya and Cynthia covered their faces in worry as Nanoya ran up to them after hearing the loud crash of the fallen spotlight.

Flynn’s face meanwhile, which was previously very calm, was now darkened and his eyes blinked slightly red and it was glowing which Freya and Cynthia notice it. Nanoya spoke to them.

“Flynn… Rubina, are you two alright?" He asked in worry.

"The third time this week…. Does my luck charm lose its power? ” Flynn seemed to mumble some things quietly as Rubina tried to approach him.

“Flynn…" She muttered as soon as she got up. But he looked at her calling him and quickly tried to pull his usual smile.

"One accident doesn’t stop us, not even multiple. I will make this play a success but … for that, I need all of us to concentrate more. Let’s take a break and continue later, my dear Tricksters. Work harder so we can prevent such things next time.” He stated as he left up to his room, Nanoya following behind him to talk to him and Rubina staying with you as a white-haired woman from the group smiled at his departure, unaware that the two half-myths caught her expression.

“Always blaming others but never looking at himself. You saw how he judged us… he plays the gallant leader but… you can slowly see his mask fall."

"Mikoto, that’s-”

“Come on Rubina, you know it too. You always complain about him."

Mikoto walked backstage to fix some things. Rubina stayed in the room and then tried to calm most of the other members.

After what the two half-myths had witnessed, they had now bet things will start to escalate soon or worse… We when out of the room, and the two girls had a private conversation as Freya took her hood down since they were now alone.

“Hey, wanna discuss about it soon? I've already got deets about it and I’ll send them to you the GC soon tonight.” Cynthia explained as her expression changed slightly.

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll be updated on it and be sure not to get caught.” Freya answered as Cynthia nodded in agreement.

Then so, Cynthia returned to the dorm as Freya left the dorm to fill in for today's tour.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #hourglass station academy #hsa #fanfic #polisionalle episode 4

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just-gonna-write · 1 year

Text

this is a short story i wrote for class :) the assignment was to write a historical fiction piece, so this takes place in a fictional cult in the late 60’s :)

“Hello gorgeous, I am digging your outfit today! Come inside, I insist!” My smile is bright, dancing on my pink glossy lips as I practically shriek out my greeting.

“Hey! Thank you so much, I have been dying for that homemade lemonade you make.” Janice Hartt laughed, side-stepping me into my house. It’s warm and soft, with orange and rust colors everywhere you look. She beelines to my conversation pit, plopping on my pristine white couch.

“I’ll grab you something to drink then, could I interest you in any snacks too? I’ve got olives and cheese!” I giggled while fluffing my ginger hair. It was long and shiny, perfectly coiffed every day, and just the right amount of volume to frame my face. I knew I was just about the prettiest girl in town, and I knew everyone else did too.

“That would be fabulous. And after that, I have something I wanna talk to you about.” She said shyly. Her smile was bright, but the way she twirled her short, dark hair around her finger gave away nerves. Bingo.

“Ooh, I’m intrigued. I’ll be right back with those refreshments, you just hang out here until I’m back.” I told her playfully. I turned my back on her and let out the tiny, genuine smile that was making its way to my lips. I was surely in, I had the perfect opportunity to get in her mind. All I needed to do was have a little girl talk and I would be golden. Father Robert would be so pleased.

I rushed into the kitchen, heels clicking and clacking under me. The floors were hardwood, golden brown, the kind that accentuated any little sound that was made in the house. The rhythmic noise filled my ears, and for a moment I was more focused on that than the matter at hand. Get it together Virginia, focus is necessary in a game like this. Even Janice of all people could catch onto your scheme if you aren’t careful. I replayed the thought over and over as I arranged the cheese and olives onto little skewers, and poured the pungent lemonade that filled the room with the sour scent of freshly squeezed lemons.

When I lifted my head I caught my reflection in the mirror. Long ginger hair, big blue eyes, yellow eyeshadow underneath the black line on the lid, making my eyes look even bigger and more innocent. A perfectly practiced smile played on my lips, showing off my pearly white teeth. It was no wonder I was chosen by Father Robert to bring people into our organization, who wouldn’t listen to a face like this? All I had to do was twirl my hair around my finger, wink and smile and anyone who laid eyes on me would turn to mush. And nobody thought rationally when they were mush.

I shook my head and straightened up, grabbing my tray. Four skewers, two glasses of lemonade. Perfect. Hurriedly I grabbed my tray and used my back to open the kitchen door that led to the living room.

“Sorry I took so long, these things were a real pest to get on these sticks.” I giggled. I was always giggling.

“Don’t worry about it! First off, how are you? Met any boys yet?” Janice asked playfully, grabbing a skewer to grab off a piece of cheese and pop it in her mouth. Her lipstick was dark, a hair too dark for her skin tone. It didn’t suit her.

“Things are good, and no I haven’t met anyone. You know me, I just cannot stand the thought of settling down with some mediocre man. But anyway, there has to be a reason why you dropped by, tell me!”

“Oh it's nothing, I just have some things on my mind. It’s all good, I just needed a distraction before I did anything drastic.” She laughed.

Janice was older than I was, probably in her early thirties. Her hair was cropped short, not unlike Twiggy’s, though certainly a little longer than hers. She wore a white button up under a powder blue suit jacket and matching pencil skirt. It looked frumpy. Her makeup was light and simple, and it didn’t do much for her features. I got the feeling she would be pretty if she tried, if her clothes fit and her makeup was nice. But as she was, all I could describe her as was plain. She had a husband who was just as plain as she was (I never knew how a boring person like her managed to get married), and two little boys. As one might guess, they were just as interesting as their parents.

“What do you mean, drastic?” I asked lightly. I could tell this was my moment, my opening to convince her to abandon the life she knew and tell her the way life should really be.

“It’s just… Well Bobby’s been a little distant lately, and you know the kids are always stressing me out, things are just kinda crazy.” She said slowly, looking down at her hands. There was a light pink polish on her nails, the prettiest thing about her.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“I want to run away.” She blurted out. Her eyes widened and she slapped her hand over her mouth, her entire body jolting as she realized what she said. She glanced at me, then at the ground, then back at me. “I want to run away. I want to get out and leave everything and everyone behind. I wanna be free.” Tears welled up in her eyes, the red color from her tears accentuating her green eyes. I’d never noticed she had green eyes.

“Woah.” I said, matching her posture. Stiff, anxious, knee bouncing like a basketball. “As much of a shock this is, I don’t think I really blame you.”

Janice’s entire body went rigid. “Really?” She asked. She looked pitiful.

“Really. Honestly I think Bobby is holding you back. Think of the great life you could lead if you just left him! You could have more time with friends, some time to really explore yourself and who you want to be. You don’t need a bummer of a husband or two kids that hold you in place! You’re meant to soar, Janice, and yet your feet have never gotten to leave the ground.” I told her, grabbing her hands to get her attention. Her teary eyes looked into mine and after a moment she smiled.

“Thank you, Virginia, I’m so glad you don’t think I’m crazy.” A sigh of relief blew through her body like a gust of wind, and I let my smile shine through.

“I could never think you’re crazy. In fact, I think I have a way for you to get out.”

I described Father Robert and the work he does for people like her, who feel alone. She could have a community of amazing people who she lives with, allow her love to be free and unrestrained by the confines of marriage, and finally find peace.

Within moments, she was hooked. I got one.

“Good job with our newest member, Virginia Bonnie Jones.” Myself and Father Robert were in his office. It was warm, a little too warm, and decorated very cozily, with vinyls lined on the walls and pictures covering his desk. I didn’t know who most of those faces belonged to, they were foreign. Like a language you can’t speak, glimpses of the familiar amongst a sea of the intimidatingly unknown.

“You can just call me Virginia, Father.” I spoke smoothly. I knew my charms hardly worked on him, but I was always hoping I could get him to slip up. I could hear the sound of my teeth grinding against each other, a faint but ugly sound. I felt like every muscle in my body was frozen, every movement meticulously planned. Father shot me an icy look that sent shivers down my spine.

“As I was saying, Bonnie, congratulations on the new recruit. You have become our top recruiter, guiding people to the light, and for that I appreciate you. However,” I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes at the graying man’s grumbly criticism that was surely coming. “I see you are still not quite on the path to the Light yourself.”

“What do you mean by that? I’m only here because I believe in the cause, how am I not on the path to the Light?” I protested coolly. My hand twitched to mess with my long hair, but I thought better of it.

“The Light only accepts people who have let go of their mortal possession and pride, Bonnie. In order to be able to graduate to the Great Beyond with the rest of us, you must give up your vanity. Being a mirror warmer won’t get you far, Virginia. Stylish clothes and nice hair will only get you left behind. I’m saying this because I like you, and neither of us want the Light to reject you do we? Next time I see you I want it to be burning those silly clothes. You look like a crayon.” The man scolded. His deep, dark eyes, like a black hole, and entrancing abyss, pulled me in. I almost couldn’t hear a word he said. It felt like my mind was full of clouds and smoke, and no matter how much I wanted a breath of fresh air, all I got was the hot sting of smoke in my throat. I closed my eyes and shook my head, shook out the thin tendrils of smoky gray that threatened to pull me under.

“With all due respect, Father, the way I dress is important to my recruiting, and to me. How am I supposed to get people’s respect and earn their trust if I can’t even wear matching clothes? People trust who they find appealing, so me looking this way is spreading the message that we’re trying to spread. Isn’t our goal to get more people to follow the Light so they can be saved? Isn’t me dressing like this better for the greater good in the long run?” My voice remained strong and sturdy, not a single waver as I spoke. I knew I was right, I wholly believed I was right.

There was a long moment of silence. It was thick. Palpable.

“Bonnie, we’re friends. I’m saying this for your own good. Change how you dress. No more mini skirts, no more heels, no more bright colors or patterns, no more fashion. Do I make myself clear?”

“But why-”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“...Yes Father.”

Before I knew it I was outside the wooden door, my back to it, so close I was almost brushing against it. My mind reeled, my body felt heavy, my breathing was quick and heavy. Talking to Father always had that effect. I didn’t know what it was about him that was so unsettling. Was it those deep, dark eyes that were almost soulless? Was it the way he smelled heavily of tobacco and musk? Was it maybe the way his deep voice always made him seem so sure of himself, almost condescending? I couldn’t tell. Maybe it was the conversation of all three.

“Virginia? Hey, I haven’t seen you in ages! How are you sweetheart?” I looked up from the grayish-green colored carpet, a color that reminded me of nausea, only to see a sight for sore eyes, clad in a long gray coat that looked like a dress, with large tortoiseshell buttons and a faint houndstooth pattern. Gloria Meyers, my dearest friend since we were small. The most beautiful and put-together woman I knew, who happened to be Father’s right-hand-woman and a full-time member of the community. She lived here full time, unlike me.

“Hi Gloria, I’m great. Just got out of a meeting with the boss.” I told her breathlessly. She shot me a sympathetic smile. She knew I never got along with that man.

“You can tell me all about it at evening meal-time. I’m almost late for a meeting with him, and you know I’d probably die if I were late for anything.” She laughed humorlessly. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Of course Glores, I’ll see you. I’ll stick around for evening meal-time just for you.” I told her softly, side-stepping to give her room.

Father had probably heard the conversation, but I was too drained to care. I needed to sit down.

Seats and couches in every shade of brown and beige known to man lined the long hallway that isolated Father’s office from the rest of the facility. A huge, homey mansion. I never knew how a man so opposed to frivolity and money as a construct had acquired such a big house, but I didn’t ever bother to question it. Father Robert was the kind of man who just made things happen. This communal mansion, my “recruiter house” that I got to live in and bring new members to, (after all, how else would I earn their trust?) All of it was part of the package.

I was sprawled on a cozy, worn in beige couch that some of our members had found on the side of a road. It used to be infested with mites and torn all apart, but it had been fixed years ago. It still carried the scars and age, thin little seams like wrinkles decorating a wizened human face.

“What are you doing, Virginia?” A feminine voice asked me. When I glanced over I realized I knew her, I had recruited her about a year ago. Pretty, only 16 years old. It was a shame since a pretty young girl had wasted her beauty to dress in gray potato sacks and horrifically sensible shoes.

I hated sensible shoes.

“I’m just resting my mind until dinner, you?” I asked politely. My mind raced and fumbled to find a name that matched the face. Clara? Cassidy maybe? Or was it Cierra?

“I wanted to ask the boss a question. It’s about the Great Ascension, I had some minor questions.” She answered with a smile, a warm one. A little bit of anxiety danced in her twitchy fingers and tapping toes. I stopped scanning her when her words hit my mind, and I had to look back up at her face.

“The Great Ascension?”

“Oh, were you gone when Father Robert came up with it? I should’ve known you’d be confused. He’s planning for all of us who are worthy to ascend to the Light tomorrow! I’m so excited, I can’t wait for my salvation. Just being free from this mortal coil and finally getting to feel the Light’s love, it will be so wonderful.” Her grin was wide, showing off her slightly crooked pearly whites.

I felt like my lungs had collapsed in my ribcage, leaving an empty, gaping hole. A black hole, sucking all the blood from my veins. For a moment, a very long moment, my heart stopped. I almost thought this was what dying was like. Pain ached and buzzed and tingled in every inch of skin, like ugly little bugs crawling throughout my being.

“What? So soon? But we’re not done spreading the good word of the Light, we’re not ready yet.” I gasped. I sounded like a croaking little toad. The girl’s smile almost faltered, the left corner of her lips twitched down for a moment. I almost missed it.

“Don’t worry! Father Robert is planning to stay behind and move on to educate more people! He said he just knows that we are ready for salvation, he believes in us. We’re ready for this!” She tried to cheer me up, placing a hand on my shoulder. The gesture felt empty, almost unkind. I shoved her hand off of me, and forgetting the lead that weighed my bones down, I got up and marched to the heavy wooden door in front of me.

No knock, no waiting, I just grabbed the cold metal handle and yanked it open. Two pairs of eyes turned to me. One dark and cruel, one kind and inquisitive.

“Virginia, what are you doing in here?”

“Why did I just hear we’re going to the Light tomorrow and I didn’t know about it?!” I demanded, almost screaming.

“Well we were going to tell you, we-”

“You aren’t going.”

“WHAT?!”

“I said you aren’t going.”

“I heard you, Robert, I want to know why. Why am I not coming?” It felt like the building was crumbling, dust that once bound the walls clogging my lungs, making me cough and retch and scream.

“You aren’t worthy. Bonnie, face it. You aren’t like us, you don’t fit in. You’re too vain and materialistic. I warned you many, many times that this would happen. You played with fire and you got burned. Simple.” The way a smirk tugged his chapped, grayish lips was sickening. The silence that followed was long and tense, me just staring at him. Why me? I did everything for this man, I did everything I ever could to ensure he could spread his message. I was one of the first people to join his Organization, I did all his dirty work, I even allowed him to look at me like a wolf looking at a slab of meat for years.

He had adored me until a year ago, when my dresses and skirts were tighter and shorter than he’d ever seen someone wear. He looked at me like unconquered territory. My legs were uncharted waters, my chest was a bountiful land of prosperity for him to conquer. But I never let him touch me. Even when he begged and pleaded and said it was only right I refused. So he created a rule against vanity, saying the Light had come to him and told him of my sinning. He’d despised me ever since.

“Father Robert.” Gloria’s stern voice brought me out of my panicked haze, and I glanced at her. Her eyes were fixed on the old man in front of her, a fire I’d never seen before burning in her eyes. “She has done nothing wrong. She is not vain and you know that, she’s simply smart. She’s the top recruiter we have in this Organization, so many people’s souls have been saved because of her. You have to allow her to Ascend with the rest of us.”

A small smile tugged at my lips. Gloria had never been one to stand up for herself. When we were on the playground as kids, she would be teased and bullied and I would be the one to fend the bullies off. In return, she would give me the extra snacks her mom always packed in her lunch. It was a good deal for both of us, and how our lifelong friendship bloomed. I was proud of her for how she’d grown up so much.

I turned my attention to Father Robert, the man in front of us. His face was unreadable, looking between the two of us slowly. Finally, his eyes settled on me.

“Fine, But I expect you to wear something more professional tomorrow for the ceremony.”

The ceremony was less grand than I had expected. My imagination had conjured up grand decorations everywhere, a banquet room looking like the epitome of class. Gold, sparkles, maybe a little confetti for fun.

I should’ve known that was nothing like what would actually happen.

In reality there were no decorations, just a normal banquet room with an array of blades lining tables at the front. Some were normal kitchen knives, plain and sturdy, others were more interesting, like delicate hand-carved daggers and heavy looking swords. I examined each one carefully until my eyes landed on a gorgeous dagger, maybe 5 inches long, with a shiny gold handle that had been carved to resemble the head of a bird. Instead of a beak, the bird had its blade. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life.

“Everyone.” Father Robert’s voice boomed through the room before his gaze settled on me. “I would like to welcome you all to the first ever Ascension. It is my honor to guide you all to the light, as it was my honor to lead you in life. I hope that the afterlife will bring you all great joy.” The crowd erupted in cheers. I glanced around. No one looked even vaguely hesitant, all of them had thrown themselves into their joy.

“In order to Ascend, there is one final task you all must complete.” That got peoples’ attention, enough for a hush to fall over the crowd. “There are blades lined up here, these are going to be tools for your Ascension. Please, everybody pick one.” I immediately rushed for the beautiful golden dagger, and luckily I got it. It seemed to shine in the ugly fluorescent lights, the gold twinkling in my hands. I felt like I was hypnotized, just staring at it.

My concentration was broken when Father Robert began to speak again.

“Now, this process will be painful, but nothing without pain will bring reward.” He spoke slowly, carefully, his deep voice rattling through my bones. “I want you all to point your blades toward yourselves, pray for one last time, and stab yourselves. As many times as you must in order to die. The more blood you shed, the more beautiful your afterlife will be.” I should’ve been shocked, I should've shook and quivered in fear, screamed and begged to stay. I didn’t. Instead I followed instructions. Slowly, I pointed the shining blade at myself.

Light, please take me into your arms, guide me on my Ascension to the ranks of the Enlightened Ones. Please bring me the honor of peace in the Afterlife. Thank you.

Then, without a second thought, I plunged the blade into my flesh.

Pain. Pain was all I felt. Red hot. Burning my stomach. Everything felt wet. I heard a scream, but my throat was raw. Maybe it was mine. Maybe it wasn’t. Up was down and left was right. I looked down at my hands. I was alive.

I drew my knife again. Plunged it in again. I wasn’t dead. I needed to be dead to end this. Again. Again. Again.

As clouds filled my brain like bubble wrap in a box, muffling all my thoughts, all I could think was how striking a color combination gold and red was.

And then it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Where was the singing? The hugs, the warmth, the feeling of love bursting through you, almost ripping you to shreds? Where were the loved ones waiting on you, where were the Enlightened Ones ready to give you their wisdom, like a gift wrapped up with a neat little bow? Where was the joy?

All I felt was emptiness. Cold. If I still had my body, it would’ve shivered. That body was gone. And so was I.

Where was I?

There was nothing but darkness for as far as the soul could see.

I knew why there was nothingness, but I didn’t want to admit it.

Had we been lied to? Had Father Robert just made up all this beauty and warmth? Had he led us to believe that there was some wonderful afterlife, to bring us peace with death.

Had I, by association, been a liar too? Brought innocent people to their deaths when they had full lives to live? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. I believed. I thought I was doing a good thing. I thought the methods were dodgy, sure, but the message was true.

It wasn’t.

I led hundreds of people to their deaths, like a shepherd herding his sheep to the slaughterhouse. This was all my fault. I did that to people, and it was my fault.

And now, that was all I had to think about for the rest of eternity.

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channie774 · 2 years

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Chapter 1 "Feelings" chaewon x female reader

A few days ago our group had finished promoting our song “Fearless” and they had given us a week off, I really hoped they would, we all ended up very tired from the promotions and even more so from Garam leaving.

Now I was with Chaewon in the practice room, I didn't want to come alone and Chae offered to accompany me, it's not something that bothers me or makes me angry, it just makes me nervous to be alone with Chae for the simple fact that I like her, well who am I kidding, I love it, her voice, her smile, her presence, she was simply perfect for my eyes, I would love not to have these feelings for the leader of my group because I know she would never reciprocate my feelings.

Now the two of us were dancing in a calm and synchronized rhythm, when the song finished I couldn't help but throw myself on the floor to rest a little, in the background I could hear chae's laugh for what I did, I swear I could hear her laugh the whole day .

tired? - asked chae with a smile walking towards me

Something - I replied When chae got to where I was, she offered me her hand so I could stand up, I grabbed her hand and when I got up, I realized that the two of us were very close, so close that I was able to feel her breathing, we both stared at each other like If our surroundings had stopped completely,

I had to look down because I was taller than Chae by a few inches. I was hypnotized with her eyes, they were like a magnet for me, in a moment my body reacted on its own and in a blink of an eye I went forward and kissed chaewon, when I kissed her I prayed inside that she would reciprocate the kiss, but unfortunately it was not.

When I separated I didn't even have the courage to look into her eyes, I didn't want to face Chae about what had just happened.

e-eh and-I'm s-sorry chae, I have to go - I told her while she mentally cursed what she had just done.

e-eh y/n you…- said chae still in a state of shock.

No, you don't need to say it, what I did was a mistake and I apologize, it's best that I go - I told her as she arranged my things to get out of there.

n-no y/n wait – chae said as she grabbed my arm.

No chaewon, I don't want to hear what you're probably going to tell me, just forget what happened, I'm leaving - I said with a broken voice I let go of chae's grip and rushed out of there.

time lapse

After I got home I locked myself in my room, I didn't feel like talking to the girls now, I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I kissed Chae, I got carried away by my feelings towards her and that might have ruined our friendship forever .

To relax I just took a shower and lay down on my bed thinking about the stupid thing she had done, thinking too much made me fall into Morpheus's arms after a while.

Chaewon POV:

On the way home I tried to call y/n but he didn't answer me, I also sent him messages but he had blocked me from everywhere, I must explain to him how things really are, that I didn't accept that kiss because it shocked me no because I don't like her, I like her since we were introduced, I like her because I can talk about things with her without fear of being judged, I like that in dark moments she is a light for me.

When I got home all the members were in the living room

Where is she y/n? - I asked them

She is in her room, when she arrived she locked herself in her room without giving us an explanation - sakura said with a sad tone

When sakura finished talking I almost ran to y/n's room, when I got there I knocked on the door, nobody said anything, when I was going to knock again I heard some tender snoring, so I guessed she fell asleep, so I opened the door of her room very quietly, and when I opened it there I saw her, she was in her bed sleeping like a baby, I walked quietly towards her and sat next to her on her bed, I began to pamper her hair and observe her in more detail, y/n she woke up little by little that at first she didn't realize that I was with her but when she reacted she tensed up and sat on her bed.

Ch-chae w-what are you doing here - she said trying not to look me in the eye

I came to talk to you - I told him putting my hand on his leg When I put my hand on her leg, she blushed a little.

Chae you don't have to say that, I know what I did was - I didn't let her finish because the street with a kiss At first y/ n she opened her eyes in surprise, but then she relaxed until she kissed me back, they were the most beautiful seconds of my entire life, in the end we had to separate due to lack of oxygen.

You talk a lot you know - I said bringing our foreheads together ,

What was that - she said and / n still surprised by what had just happened

It was a silly kiss,I like you too and a lot, only in the practice room I didn't have time to tell you - I said looking into her eyes .

and/n the only thing she did was give me another kiss while I put my hands on her neck and she put her hands on my waist, this kiss was a special one, it was a kiss that conveyed all the love she had for me, all her feelings . When we parted we looked into each other's eyes.

can you sleep with me I'll lend you one of my hoodies if you want – y/n I wonder with kitty eyes in boots.

How to tell you no with those little eyes - I told her squeezing her cheeks and making her laugh

After putting on pajamas and the hoodie that y / n lent me, I love the smell of y / n impregnated in her clothes, after that I slept next to y / n enjoying the warmth of her.

Good night jagi - I told she

Good night chae - she told me back We were so comfortable with the presence of the two that in a short time we fell into a deep sleep.

*hello readers, sorry if there is any mistake is that this is my first time writing a story, I hope you like it and here is my report. English is not my first language, if there is a misspelled word blame the google translate.

#chaewon #le sserafim #reader #couple

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motownfiction · 2 years

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affirmations for lucy

Lucy, I think you’re the smartest person in the world. Not just the school. The world. And I’m not just saying that because I know you want to hear it. I’m saying it because I know it’s true. You’re going to rule the whole world someday. I think it will be really cool when you do. - Steph

Lucy, I know everybody’s going to talk about how smart you are because they’re not going to know what else to say. But I think you’re funny. You always have something witty to say, and you get jokes in a way a lot of people don’t. It’s cool. You’re also a great friend, and while we’re at it, you ARE smart. Just in case you thought I forgot. - Daniel

Lucy – Before you came around, I used to think one sister was more than enough. I mean, I knew I loved Sadie, but I also knew she was a lot. Did you know she used to listen to John Denver? Like she thought he was cool? Don’t tell her I told you. But after you came around, I knew that a second sister wouldn’t be so bad, so long as she was you. You’re so tough, and you never let people shake you down. I’ve seen people kick dirt in your face, but you just get right back up. And you’re not looking for revenge either. You’re just looking to get up. I’m so glad we’re still friends after all this time. I’m so glad you asked me to be Elenore’s godfather. I want to be part of this family forever. I want to keep knowing you, my friend of distinction. I know this much is true. - Sam Spade Doyle

Lucy, I wondered for a second if you’d actually read these. Then I remembered of course you will. You love external validation and praise, no matter who it’s coming from. Well, take it from me. This validation and praise is from someone who knows you a little too well. Like, you’d probably deny me three times if someone knew just how much dirt I have on you. But the thing about you is that the dirt is never bad. It’s always good and kind and sensitive … all the things I think you’re afraid to be out loud, when I’m not the only one in the room. I don’t think you have anything to be afraid of. You’re the most incredible person I know. And it’s hard to be incredible because people will do anything to drag you down. But you can’t let them. Just … take a deep breath and remember that you’re more than enough. You’re Lucy. And that’s all you’ve ever needed to be. I love you to the moon, back from it, and all around it. Love, Sadie

My Lucy. It still feels weird to call you that. My Lucy. Are you going to kick my ass for saying it like that? My Lucy. Maybe I don’t care. Maybe I like the sound of it because it reminds me time and again just how lucky I am to have you in my world. You make me sappy. It’s embarrassing, but you do it, even when you’re not looking at me. Incidentally, you are looking at me as I write this letter, and you are so beautiful. That’s one thing nobody else really knows about you. That you’re beautiful. And I’m not saying they can’t take one good look at your perfect hair, perfect eyes, and perfect lips and think you’re anything but stunning, staggering. It’s that they don’t know the Lucy I know. They don’t know the Lucy who kisses her baby girl’s head so softly in the middle of the night or the Lucy who lights up whenever she gets to dance. They don’t know the Lucy who’d throw everything away to help her family and her friends. They don’t know the Lucy who loves me more than anybody should. Baby, there’s nobody like you, and I don’t mean that in the way that there’s nobody like all of us. You’re one of those people the world only gets every now and then. We’re just lucky to know where you are. And I’m just lucky to get to be right there next to you. You make me more special just by loving me, by loving our daughter, by being here. And my hand is cramping up, and I’m running out of space. - W

#drabble #ch: lucy callaghan #ch: steph armstrong #ch: daniel deluca #ch: sam doyle #ch: sadie doyle #ch: will o'connor #dynamic: friends of distinction #dynamic: sister christian #ship: c'est la vie say the old folks #year: 1984 #series: love will keep us together

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kshira · 3 years

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hey love, how you've been? i hope you're taking good care of yourself. so, I wanted to request sum mitsuya x reader, where they're not dating yet but reader gets suddenly distant and jealous over yuzuha, but of course he catches up. please and thank you ❤

hi babie! i hope you’re doing good! i enjoyed this request and i hope you do as well! <3

-ˏˋ MITSUYA ˊˎ-

tw. fem!reader, cursing, jealousy tones, possessive mitsuya, dirty talk, fingering, creampie, he’s soft but in a demanding way? soft dom! mitsuya w/ sub reader!

wc. 959

“why are you running from me? stop!” mitsuya grips your wrist, fingers slipping through his hands. you look so far away from him, out of his reach within seconds as you make your way to your door.

“it’s nothing, go home mitsuya” his last name feels foul on your tongue but it sounded so much better when she said it—not you.

“so now we’re on a last name basis? you’re being ridiculous, angel” his voice beckons on the back of your ear, that nickname for some reason was already calming you down.

“don’t call me that, mitsuya” you added emphasis on the remaining words, adding sting again, your hand gripping the doorknob “call her angel, not me.”

mitsuya lingers the words, casting the unfamiliar confusion in his mind, baiting an answer as he replays the night and hook, line and sinker— he found it.

“are you jealous of yuzuha?” he questions, his hand grazing across your fingers trying to just touch something of you, afraid you’ll float away.

you turn to him, eyes glossy and lip quivering as mitsuya raises his hand to wipe the tears away, “unfortunately” you whisper when he places his forehead against yours, he smiles “i figured as much.”

the lamp beside your bed lit an ominous yellow across the bed, mitsuya face shadowed a smile sewed to his lips, tugging higher when your fingers brush across his lips “you’re so pretty” he coos, drawing his fingers across your bare stomach, an ache starting to circle amongst your heat.

“mitsuya—” you begin, hands carding through his hair as he attaches his lips on your breasts, tongue circling across the bud. “why are you still calling me that?” he hums, lilac eyes glancing upward to you “you should know by now that’s not my name, angel.”

your eyes knock to the side, looking at the wall covered with photos of him and you—friends, best friends and whatever the fuck this is “does she call you by your first name when you flirt with her?” you question, pushing the jealousy on his lap.

mitsuya contemplates your words, a finger tapping at your cheek “no, i usually think about you when i’m with anyone else.” he cradles your face within his hands, thumb laying on your warm cheeks “do you know what i think about at night, when i get so fucking hard?”

you shiver under his touch, a tingle running through your spin and creeping to the skin causing goosebumps to arise, and that familiar heat pooling warmer in your stomach “n-no.”

“you, those pretty legs—perfect tits and what i would do to fuck this pussy till it’s molded just for me” mitsuya exhales, throaty moan vibrating through his voice—eyes glossing over you until your reaction seems worthy.

his hands dance down to your stomach, skimming over the soft skin as he rolls his pads lower reaching your cunt, he starts small circles on your clit using your slick to swipe a steady rhythm, he closes the distance placing a kiss on your ear “you’re so wet for me, princess.”

“mitsuya please, just fuck me already” you whine, rocking your hips against his palm, his fingers agonizingly close to your clenching hole, he sinks two fingers in curling against your spongy walls “say my name, fucking say it.”

“takashi! fuck takashi” you squeak, his lips curling into a smile against your ear “atta girl.” he sinks deeper, pumping his digits in and out of your sopping cunt, the lewd noises your pussy make have his cock throbbing with every cry of your trembling voice.

strings of your slick cling to his fingers when he pulls out, halting the blossoming orgasm from approaching, “you know you’re cumming on my cock, m’kay princess?”

you only know to nod your head yes, his hands holding your face still while he hovers over you, legs spread with ease and fingers digging into your thighs while he spreads you open for him, a deep sigh bubbling from your lips when you feel his heavy cockhead slide against your folds “i’ll fuck you till you know, i only want you.”

mitsuya rolls his hips, dropping low to rut into your hole, the stretch makes your toes curl, heels of your feet digging into the mattress as he bottoms out, he keeps his head in the crevice of your neck lips suckling on your sensitive skin “nobody will ever fuck you like i do, you’re the only fucking person i want.”

your fingers claw at his back, nails eating at the flesh as mitsuya thrusts harder, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his hips—fucking you deeper in the covers, his face pulling back from your neck to watch your cunt suck him in “fuck angel, m’bout to cum.”

and he doesn’t want to, the warmth of your pussy is so eliciting, milking him dry—the juices of you dripping down to his balls slapping against your ass, he could just die right here; the life he’d dreamed—fuck he was in it.

“don’t wanna cum, wanna stay—fuck this pussy over and over” mitsuya moans, gasps leaving his lips when he slides his hand down to thumb at your clit. “if i’m cumming, you’re doing it first pretty baby” he coos, rubbing faster until the knot in your stomach starts to send shocks through your bones.

“that’s it angel, let go—cum on my cock, show me how good i fuck you” like a silent prayer answered with his voice, you cum—hard, cunt spasming as mitsuya fills your hole to the brim, his seed dribbling down into the sheets.

mitsuya stills inside you, pulling strands of hair behind your ear as he places a kiss against your lips “are you still jealous? or do i have to fuck you again, angel?”

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev smut #tokyorev smut #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi x reader #tr mitsuya #mitsuya smut #tokyo revengers mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #takashi mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya smut

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theveryworstthing · 3 years

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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betrothed2another · 2 years

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Would You... Like To Dance? || Bruno Madrigal x Fem Reader

ahh !! its my first ever x reader fic in years, and ofc its bruno, because who doesn’t adore bruno? feedback is much appreciated, and if you have any requests or want me to make a second part, please let me know !!

word count: 2.1k any warnings: nope! just fluff! plot: just a cute little scene from when bruno first met you!

It was a beautiful summer evening, with a sky full of stars and the air warm and comforting, when Bruno Madrigal first met you personally.

Now, don’t get him wrong - he’s certainly seen you before, once or twice. He remembers seeing you run about through town, sewing needles in your hand and fabric strapped to your back as you fulfilled orders for intricate skirts and helped to hem any frayed edges of those who needed the help. A talented seamstress, you were. Very rarely did he go into town - too many damn stairs in his room - but when he did, he found himself unconsciously seeking out your bright laughter from down the street, before he was inevitably dragged back to Casita to perform his daily fortune-telling duties. He’d never actually strapped up the courage to talk to you, of course, much to his sisters’ blend of annoyance and delight at the teasing possibilities.

But now? Now you were here, your dress the color of clear skies and your hair bouncing as you danced on the stones of the Casita, the festivities leaving you feeling energetic and joyful, and Bruno’s hands felt clammy just watching you amongst the other partygoers, watching and waiting.

It was the first Gift ceremony in 28 years. Isabela Madrigal, firstborn grandchild of the Madrigal family, was to receive her gift in a few short minutes.

The entire family was incredibly high-strung, and has been for the better part of a week now, leading up to Isabela’s 5th birthday. His Mamá, for starters, was ensuring everything about this night would go smoothly - it had been quite a while since anybody received a gift, after all. It was best Bruno kept himself, and his gift, out of the way for the night, to let Isabela shine on her perfect night.

And a perfect night it was - the perfect temperature, no bad weather (other than Pepa and her worrying, as Dolores would be turning five in just a few short months as well), and the party was going amazing.

At least Bruno just thought it was amazing. The music was loud and jovial. Anybody who seemed wary of him kept their distance or ignored him, and nobody else seemed to mind his presence. The chicharrones were pretty great. And, okay, obviously, the beautiful seamstress from the village was twirling about nearby the stairs.

She was gorgeous. Her smile alone lit up the Casita, dark sky be damned. Her dress was skillfully sewn, and she just held this.. This air about her that had Bruno feeling light on his feet, and–

“You’re staring, parcero.”

Bruno nearly jumped ten feet in the air, quickly swiveling around to reveal Félix, his brother-in-law with a grin on his face that meant trouble. Bruno cleared his throat, “Uh, you– Uh. Whaaat?” Good save, Bruno, good save. “I’m not staring, where did you, uh, ever get that idea? I’m just.. Enjoyin’ the party! See?” One of the volunteers for the party, carrying around sweets on a plate, passed by at the perfect time, allowing for Bruno to pluck a few off and shove them in his mouth unceremoniously. “Having the time of my life!”

Félix was unconvinced. If anything, he just smiled wider.

Damn it.

“You’re staring, parcero.” Félix repeated. He reached over and lightly jostled Bruno’s thin frame, causing him to cringe, a flush rising high on his face. “Look at you! You’re totally staring at–”

“Shh!” Bruno flapped his hand to try and beg, really, for Félix to shut up. “I’m not.. Okay, I’m staring a little bit. But you don’t need to tell the whole world that, please!”

“Who would’ve thought Y/N would’ve captured your interest, eh, hermano?” Félix patted him on the back, completely ignoring the way Bruno’s ears turned bright pink. Y/N. That was her name. He turned back to look at you, chatting your way through the party, so bright and friendly. His heart seized up. “Do you plan on asking her to dance?”

Startled out of his thoughts, Bruno stammered, “Well, I, uh, I’m not totally sure she’d want to dance with me–”

“Nonsense! She’d be foolish to not wanna dance with THE Bruno Madrigal!”

Was he being sarcastic? He couldn’t tell. “You–”

The music tapered off, causing both men to turn their attention to the one and only Mamá Madrigal, now Abuela Madrigal. Silence overtook the party, all eyes on the matriarch of the family as she began her speech, in preparation for Isabela’s arrival.

“33 years ago, we were all given a miracle. A miracle that blessed us with the opportunity to give back to our community…”

The ceremony went flawlessly. Isabela, nervous as she may be, was blessed with a staggeringly beautiful new bedroom, adorned from ceiling to floor in flowers, as perfect as she usually proved to be. The entire room was alight with celebration - the music was moved to allow Isa dance in her brand new flowery room, the rest of the partygoers filing in to join in on the fun. After the family photo was taken - and after Julieta pulled him in for a quick dance, absolutely brimming with joy - he slowly drifted off towards the side of the room, eyeing the dance floor for the splash of blue he’d found himself admiring not too long ago.

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen.

Bruno’s shoulders deflated some. She must have left. Or she’d somehow heard him and Félix speaking, and she’d been scared away - no doubt she would be, he was Bruno Madrigal, after all. Bringer of bad luck to all. Why wouldn’t she be so–

“Tío Bruno?” A tiny squeak from next to him startled him out of his thoughts. He whipped his head around, heart pounding, to find little Dolores, shyly staring at her feet.

God, this family needs bells strapped to them, how do they keep sneaking up on me? Bruno thought, before his face softened a little and he got down to his knees to match Dolores’ height, just shy of 5 years old and a quiet little one. “Hey, chiquita– What’s going on?”

“I.. I, um, I was listenin’ when you and Papá were talking.” She spoke softly, Bruno having to strain to hear her over the music. “Senorita Y/N is outside in the front lawn.”

Bruno blinked. Clever girl.

“Oh. She is, is she? Well, that’s–”

“She thinks you’re cute!” She blurted out, seemingly without thinking. Before he could ask how she knew, she quickly murmured, “I was listenin’ to her too. When she was talking with Mamá.”

He can already imagine what her gift will be.

“I… Thank you, chiquita. That’s.. Good to know.” Very good to know, actually. His heart was pounding in his chest, a small bit of confidence surging through him. You thought he was cute. Nobody thought he was cute before. Dolores, who seemed to have completed whatever mission she set out to accomplish, flashed him a smile before running off to dance with her cousins and other kids of the village.

Bruno ran off, as well, before his nerves could drag him back down again, off to find the beautiful girl he’d been so infatuated with, just by seeing you.

—

You were outside, just as Dolores had said.

Your chest rose and fell as you laid out on the grass, a little more than overwhelmed with the party. Small, cramped spaces and all that. Besides, you were a little winded from all the dancing, and your knees were feeling a little weak. Or was that from the handsome man you’d caught looking at you more than once during the party?

Bruno Madrigal. The handsome man everyone always warned you about.

You’d never gone to meet him personally for a fortune - you were usually busy with your craft, after all. But you’d heard plenty, plenty of stories from word of mouth. He was creepy, looming over his subjects with a terrifying gleam in his eyes. He brought bad luck to whoever asked their fortune, within a few weeks of being read. He was a recluse, hiding out in his tower all the time.

All those stories seemed a lot less plausible now that you had a good look at him. The only word that you could bring to your mind to describe him was… cute.

But you couldn’t think of a reason why he would look in your direction. You hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary, had you? You were just dancing - maybe you looked like a fool while you did it. You sure did have two left feet when you were younger, maybe that hadn’t gone away. Was it your dress? Your hair?

“Ughhh.” You cupped both of your hands over your face. It was not like you at all to overthink things when it came to a man. In all your 25 years, you’d never had any interest in anybody other than finding the occasional customer attractive, but now that you've seen him… Your palms were sweaty and your heart was thudding up against your ribcage like a fool.

“Are you.. Not enjoying the party?”

You swiftly sat up, bright eyes wide, hair swishing from side to side as you looked for the source of the noise. Turns out, it was from behind out. And it was Bruno. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you heard me coming out here, but then again, the music is kinda loud and you can still hear it all the way out here, and you seemed distracted, I’m sorry, I’ll just– head out. Yeah.”

You didn’t even know what to say. Bruno was right there, in front of you! Backing away! Talk to him, you fool! “You didn’t scare me! I just wasn’t expecting it.” You sent him a reassuring smile, stopping him in his tracks. “You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

Thankfully, that seemed to keep him around. His shoulders - which were tense, you now noticed - slowly relaxed. “So, are you not enjoying the party?” He repeated, slowly approaching again, fingers playing with the frayed edges of his ruana.

“No, no, I am! It’s a very great party, your family sure knows how to put together a celebration.” You were quiet for a moment, and shrugged. “Just a little overwhelming, I suppose.”

“I get it. I’m not exactly a party person myself. My mere presence is being a party pooper.”

You giggled, and you saw his face soften significantly in response. “That’s not true. You seemed to be having fun, from what I could tell.”

Bruno’s face reddening made you smile wider. “You– You were watching me?”

“As much as you were watching me.”

Bruno groaned and covered his face in embarrassment. “You caught that?! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. That was really creepy of me, I hadn’t meant to stare so long. You were just very pretty! And you–”

You were standing up before you realized it, closing the distance between the both of you and gently taking hold of his hands to move them off of his face, taking a moment to admire the slope of his nose, the fuzz of his beard, his gorgeous doe eyes. You were smitten. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute.”

Bruno stared, open vulnerability on his face like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. His eyes flickered down to your lips before quickly moving back up, swallowing past the lump formed in his throat. “Would you.. Like to dance?” Bruno had been right earlier - the music was plenty loud enough for all to hear, even outside on the front lawn.

You didn’t even think about it before wrapping your arms around his neck, his hands coming to join at your waist, puzzle pieces locking together. “I’d love to.”

It took a little bit of foot shuffling to really get your rhythm, to find what worked for both of you, but once you got the hang of it, you lost track of time curled against Bruno’s chest, arms keeping you secure. Your dancing was full of laughter, as he murmured jokes and anecdotes against your ear while you did the same to him. For god knows how long - enough time for non-family members to stream out of Casita and head home - you danced together, with the promise of something more on your fingertips when you held hands. You’d danced until Pepa’s, a firm believer in beauty sleep, voice called out from the doors of the house broke the two of you apart, “Lovebirds! You’re going to catch a cold, save the kisses for morning, will you?!”

The both of you were silent, until fits of laughter ran through the both of you. Before Bruno could reconsider, he took your hands and pulled you back in, your lips meeting in the middle.

It was like magic, his lips against yours.

“Y/N, will you let me walk you home?” He whispered against your lips, eyes full of hope.

And how could you ever say no to that?

#my writing #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno x reader #bruno madrigal x y/n #bruno x y/n #bruno madrigal #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #dolores madrigal #isabela madrigal #my first fic !! wahoo #encanto #encanto (2021)

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