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laniemae · 7 months

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The sexualisation of Mikoto, stalking, and how the fandom is repeating this.

CW: Stalking, sexual harassment, fanservice, murder

I’ve been thinking a lot about Double’s thumbnail, and especially the stalking theory. And if you think about it a lot basically everything fits up and that his victim was likely his stalker. Although a lot about what happened I never really have seen discussion on the why or how it’s been happening, so I just want to give my thoughts and theories on this all before Double.

The fanservice in MeMe:

The fanservice in MeMe has always felt really off to me. Milgram never has any fanservice-y stuff, minus Yuno in Tear Drop, but it’s only just her revealing outfit and nothing to do with strange camera angles or whatnot, and it’s very important to her character. For me and what I’ve think the consensus in the fandom has been, is it’s nothing more than that. That the fanservice is only there to appeal to thirsty fans or whatever. But I’ve been thinking a lot, and with the music videos extracted from prisoners minds, everything has a meaning in one way or the other. So for the creators to just throw a bunch of fanservice scenes in MeMe with no meaning apart from just plain fanservice feels really counter intuitive to the whole point of the MVs. And especially how this has never happened before makes it really strange to me. And with this idea in mind and going back to the stalking theory I mentioned earlier, I think it’s disgustingly clear what has happened to Mikoto.

Mikoto being watched:

I think what’s going on is that Mikoto was stalked for sexual reasons. The constant scenes of him in embarrassing moments (taking of his shirt, having a shower, having a bath) is what the stalker has been seeing and this subconsciously put itself into MeMe from Mikoto’s POV. Camera imagery in MeMe is very prevalent, from at the beginning him grabbing the camera and at the end him picking it up and punching it. I think this is supposed to represent him realising he’s being stalked and trying to hunt down who’s been doing it, and the destruction of the camera at the end to represent him killing the person.

Also around the middle of the song, we see security cam footage of him entering his apartment and crying on his couch, with Mikoto hyperventilating and gasping in the background. I feel like with everything I’ve said before this scene makes it extremely clear, that someone put up a bunch of camera around his house to catch him in those moments, if we’re taking that scene literally.

Then it cuts to him laughing at the screen in darkness, and the aforementioned fanservice scene right after this sequence of events really makes things scary to what was happening in his house. And also like I said before about the hyperventilating during this scene. I could mean multiple things such as him having a panic attack, being actually attacked or worse.

And the imagery of being watched doesn’t stop at just the camera stuff. At the beginning of MeMe in the scene at the train station, the camera moves around from behind a wall to reveal Mikoto sitting there holding a bat, like someone is watching him directly. To further back this up there’s a vignette around the edge of the camera and wee see it blink, like from a POV shot. And after the blink Mikoto disappears, and then we see him outside swinging a bat at the POV (just want to note this is outside and is probably in a different place than the train station, but I don’t know what to make of that right now, and how also the vignette I pointed out before isn’t present here). Then it cuts back to the scene in the train station, now with Mikoto holding a bat and walking towards someone on the ground, attacking them. Noticeably the vignette is still here in this scene, so the person Mikoto was attacking likely wasn’t his stalker, perhaps he just thought they were.

Wait I suddenly just got a theory from this. I just mentioned how the vignette in the scene I just mentioned likely means that Mikoto attacked someone else and the stalker was watching on. Me and basically everyone else has assumed that guy was his victim, but then what about the stalker? I’ve always strongly believed that Mikoto only killed one person but now I’m just starting to doubt that. If MeMe is to be taken in chronological order in this part, he probably killed that guy then realised that he was continuing being stalked. And as I said at the beginning of my analysis I mentioned that Mikoto punching the camera at the end could be representative of him killing the stalker and ending it (also to mention he gets the death card right before hand). And I didn’t think of it when I wrote that but what if he did actually kill multiple people in an attempt to kill his stalker. Hmm.

And going back to what I was talking about before, he probably entered his apartment afterwards and switched to Bluekoto after it was assumed everything was safe now. (Just saying I’m using Mikoto interchangeably to refer to all of the alters as it’s not clear who’s doing what, but this takes the theory of that blue was the murderer and not the other/s into account, because there’s a part of me that feels it wasn’t him attacking those people as red/green has a strong desire to protect blue and hide him from the traumatic events taking place).

I feel like I’ve gone way off track with what I’ve been saying here because while writing this I just keep noticing more and more stuff to write down and I just thought of someone thing again.

Every time it appears that Mikoto killed someone (the train scene, the garbage scene although the bag doesn’t look like a human body just saying), it cuts to a fanservice-y scene right after, maybe implying that the person he killed wasn’t the stalker, and he’s still being watched afterwards. Although this makes the bath scene kinda out of place as it doesn’t take place after a murder I think, and someone mentioned it was before the shower scene which kinda debunks this but I just wanted to mention this because why not.

Mikoto’s mindscape in MeMe:

Another thing I’ve been thinking about a lot is every character’s “mindscapes” as I call them. Yuno has an empty pink void with a tower, Fuuta has a fantasy land, Mahiru has a room inside a birdcage ect. And all of these places represent an aspect of their characters. Yuno’s representing her feelings of emptiness, Fuuta feeling that everything he’s doing is for justice and that he’s a cool hero, Mahiru being trapped and sheltered in an ideal concept of love and stuff like that. I’m going to make a theory on this in the future as it’s very interesting to me but Mikoto’s mindscape is always something that’s confused me.

Mikoto’s mindscape is a parallel of his apartment. Down to the couches, tables and everything, but lacking the bookcase and tv being buried in the water for whatever reason.

(Also I just noticed but there’s a blue thing behind the couch that Mikoto laid his head down on before which could be a bed or whatever. But in the mindscape and this other shot we don’t see it???)

(Actually maybe we do if we squint, oh well)

Okay, okay back to what I was actually going to say. The furniture from the apartment appearing in the mindscape makes sense, but what about everything else? The broken, tiled walls, the mirror, how everything is covered in a thin layer of water, the clear blue sky. There’s a bunch of this stuff I could analyse in my future post about mindscapes but I’ll just say the stuff that relates to what I was talking about earlier. But to say it right now, I think all that other stuff is supposed to be the bathroom we see him in.

Notice here the tiles are exactly the same, and we even see the same mirror he looks at himself in, in real life then Mikoto in the mindscape.

Also to point out how the Mikoto we see looking into the mirror here is wearing a sleeve and likely in the mindscape and as someone mentioned, since the ahoge is backwards it’s likely a reflection. Although it’s strange that it has the same green filter both ways.

After this we see bluekoto (presumably) fall backwards into the water. And another strange thing I noticed is that this mirror is behind the couch, but when he falls down the couch is tipped over.

Don’t know what it make of this but again I’m just constantly pointing stuff out I notice as writing this.

So basically I think the mindscape is a mix of the living room and the bathroom. The furniture from the living room and the water, mirror and tiles from the bathroom. But this makes things confusing, why the bathroom? Why would Mikoto project imagery of his bathroom into his own mindscape? This brings me to what I was saying before. The walls in the mindscape are completely collapsed, providing no closure or privacy to this “room”. The sky is also out, so his mindscape feels very exposed. And what I said earlier about my staking theory. It’s likely that someone placed cameras up in/around his bathroom to record him naked, a complete breach of privacy and that’s why this mindscape is so exposed and has elements from there. Even in this world that he created, he still doesn’t feel safe at all.

The audience and the repeating of Mikoto’s trauma:

Basically to sum it up from what I’ve said. Mikoto was being stalked and sexualised by someone. Cameras were placed up around his house to record him in embarrassing situations and he figured out, and attempted to kill the stalker.

But here’s one thing, that story we likely see in MeMe is happening again. But with the audience.

When MeMe came out everyone went ballistic. Lots of people were very surprised in how violent it was, how compared to the calm preview we saw it instantly started off with death metal and destroyed every idea we had about him, and kept switching between being calm and violent. But what I want to walk about right now is the reaction to the fanservice.

As we all know, when MeMe released a horde of thirsty tiktokers came over and started absolutely obsessing over Mikoto and all the fanservice scenes we see. Things got so out of control that people tried to vote him innocent just because he was hot and even jackalope bought this up. But thinking about this, it’s getting dangerously close to what I think happened in his story. Being filmed in embarrassing moments without consent, and having people obsess and sexualise you for that. The music videos are representative of the prisoner’s minds, and in no way would have Mikoto known how he was shown naked and shirtless for a huge chunk of MeMe. Same as him being stalked and recorded in his story if I’m right.

The fandom here is doing exactly what his perpetrator did to him down to a T. It’s almost like what happened with Amane when people tried to reverse her brainwashing by showing her tough love by not forgiving her, exactly like what the cult did to her to try and make her obey them more. This thing is happening to Mikoto as well as Amane and repeating their traumas. And also to mention how Mikoto has DID which is a result of repeated childhood abuse so it’s likely this has been happening to him alot and just can’t escape from this reality. And for the alters to take in all the trauma and leave the host blissfully unaware of everything’s that’s happening.

This brings into account how the guilty prisoners can hear the voices of the audience judging them. Fuuta completely broke down as he was constantly harassed with strange voices judging him and denying his actions. And he’s mentioned a lot of times how he can’t stand this feeling of being watched and this manifests through the eyes in Backdraft. And with Mikoto from everything I’ve been saying before it’s very likely he has trauma from this. And now feeling like he’s being watched and hearing the voices of the audience, who we know constantly sexualises him. It’s likely he’ll have to relive his trauma once again that he thought he finally escaped…

Conclusion / TL;DR

To sum this whole theory up I believe that fanservice in MeMe actually has importance besides just fanservice. And it’s likely Mikoto was being stalked by someone and recorded in those situations, and he ended up hunting the person down and killing them. And now because of the audience’s constant thirsting over him and how the guilty prisoners can hear everything we say about them, Mikoto will have to relive his suffering again.

Other things I’d like to briefly mention but didn’t have any space to put in, Is how since Mikoto rides a bike instead of a train to work as he said but we see lots of train imagery. And I think what happened is that he was probably being harassed on the train and switched to going to work alone. And the thumbnail in Double we see him looking depressed, on a train surrounded by destroyed mannequins.

#milgram #Mikoto kayano #milgram theory #cw stalking #cw s3xual harassment #After writing this I’m becoming more and more scared for what we’ll see in double #I’ve never really seen this theory talked about in much detail and connecting it to the stalking theory and this is my thoughts on it #I kept getting off track writing this and came up with a bunch of mini theories I just shoved in there that were somewhat related #ADHD brain working again #I also wanted to point out the parallels with Amane on the audience repeating the character’s traumas #I find it really interesting how milgram does something like that which I have never sen in any media before #I just want mikoto to be happy #I never usually write stuff on this topic but the more I kept thinking about it the more likely it seemed #Repost because it didn’t show up in tags #Also for something I want to note after I posted this is that mikoto is always shown sitting with his legs spread out #To the point we never see him sitting normally #I hope this doesn’t mean anything but I felt like it could possibly be related but I don’t want it to #LanieMae’s theories #To note I had to censor the Tw tag because it blocked my post if I wrote it normally sorry about that

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tvrningout-a · 9 months

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so!! a little housekeeping is in order!!

i'm gonna be here kinda off and on bc i'm going to work on school stuff! and bc my inspiration's been decent, i might reblog a lil spicy meme over on @tvrningon and something fluffy here, though ofc you're free to send in any meme i've reblogged in the past <3 i also have an inbox call that i'll probably work on sometime later today!

and just to kinda share where my head's at, my muse for kny hasn't been very high lately, so i'm thinking of changing my muse list in a way that reflects that. i just!! haven't figured out how exactly. i might categorize the lists by fandom and then by primary, secondary, and tertiary/request. i just want to show that my focus is on chiyo/modern muses, fantasy, and even s.piderverse stuff atm but without shoving all my other muses off the list or into the request category. i can definitely still write everybody!! the muse just isn't there like it used to be.

this doesn't affect many people here, but i may also edit chiyo's bio to make her fandomless again; i just don't interact with hq!! muses very often anymore, and her story isn't one that necessarily needs to be connected to hq!! to work.

i apologize if any of this disappoints anybody btw! i know this blog used to be very kny-centered, and a lot of people followed me for that originally. but i need to do what's going to make being here fun for me, which means changing things. if you need to soft/hardblock me, there's no hard feelings, and i wish you the best <3

#like i said i can absolutely still write my kny muses but they're not at the forefront of my mind rn and changing the visuals of the blog #helped a lot with feeling like i was falsely advertising my kny muses #but i feel like i really need to change stuff more so reflect just how focused i am on other content #chiyo's muse is the loudest it's been for a while and that!! makes me so happy!! i love writing her and tbh would really like #to make her the main muse of this blog #i also want to focus on my lore and fantasy and i wanna see if i can't reinvigorate spiderverse stuff bc i'm still!! very into that uvu #and i just needed to get this off my chest bc i've had it on my mind for a while bc i haven't felt inspired by my kny muses for a bit #once again i'm sorry if y'all are disappointed!! and i'm not saying i won't write them or won't accept new interactions for them #i'm just not focusing on them for now #sorry if i repeated myself a bunch asdf i feel like i'm not saying what i mean clearly and i just feel a bit bad so i'm probably #talking more than i need to asdf #get ready to ramble | ooc

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twodragonsinatrenchcoat · 10 months

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terrified for how large the number on that post may be by tomorrow please don't give me any more notes. go give my friends' art more notes please and thank you <3

#I would @ them but i get nervous about @ing people in posts #eh whatever #go follow indy ind1c0lite makes some baller ace attorney art like seriously go look at their stuff right now I'm begging you)#go follow boba theyaoiparable (makes kickass tsp art like seriously. mwah. and all the effort they put into their art??? bro. go follow the #go follow parker oasisofgalaxies (my baby brother. my cringe fail loser king Love them dearly. they are funny and they are bad at games <3)#go follow wild uptheantares (not... entirely sure what they go by online but i've known them for years and their art is super good ily wild #go follow juno widdendream5 (once again!! kickass art!! They're super chill too. I think rn they're working on a slenderman project??)#i apologize i have not been keeping up too well but i know they're working on it with melody cryptidmelody and jade i-maybe-exist #who are also both lovely people by the way #god i hope this isn't crossposting a bunch of things #i'm so sorry to whomever might be looking for things and finds this post i'm so sorry #lets see whom else...#go follow class classcryptid!!! they are super cool and chill and i love thme #i am repeating myself i'm sorry i love my friends so much ;-;#oh god i cannot remember err's username it's something that is not related to what i call them at all....#FOUND IT!!#follow err adamaniline-blog very cool. very awesome. Love them so much #i need to go to bed #but before i forget #ALSO FOLLOW FISH COPEPODS #cool blogger. banger ass blog and also a fish in real life #oh yes yes! and!!!#follow indrid im-still-a-robot coolest motherfucker alive fr fr #oklay #that devolved at the end #but i love my friends gnight <3

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be-good-to-bugs · 8 months

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there is a god and he is cruel

#the bin #sorry sorry im having existential dread and terror. literally i dont think ive ever felt worse then i do over the fact im gonna have to wor #some stupid job so often that contributes nothing and get paid so little and be in pain the whole time and have so little time for fun #inat least wnat something that pays a bit better and feels like im actually doing something #tnis whole go to work and cycle through this same loop of donated items and then watch so many of them get tossed is killing me #my job feels so meaningless because it is. i dont know how to describe why. i think a job at a grocery store doing stocking would feel at #different. this type of production work is just so draining mentally. its not samey enough to just be ignorable. it sucks #i go to work and sort through stuff and then put it on the shelves and then everything gets all messed up and fixed and messed up again #and it repeats and its not the same as if it were boxed. because at least that would feel just like whatever yknow. its this horrible #capitalist system disgused as something small and friendly. ive always felt this way about big chain thrift stores and now that i work at #one that feeling is so much stronger. '#'you love to thrift so why not work at thrift?' because it will crush your soul #sorry. i would rather like work at a store stocking a regular rotation of things and itd feel like corprate capitalism yattah yattah but #not pretending to be soemthing else. my coworkers are so nice but i hate this job #my managers are fine but theyre pushing more of tnis produce produce produce thing bc they have to and i dislike it a lot #like man i AM doing my best and its fast enough and its not even being said directly to me just everyone but it feels bad like they want #me doing this exact process for a job whee the things change. its not a bunch of same shape packeged blah blah its just an array of objects #a really boring array of objects that are all the same but also not the same enough to be easier #and you want to to act like its all packeged and stuff??#ugh i hate it. i think this is why i like hanging bags so much cause its a simple sorting pricess and simple to put them up

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andhumanslovedstories · 2 years

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The other day on shift, I was walking down the hallway when a confused old man started yelling. This is fairly common in the hospital, so I ducked into his room and was like "hey dude what's up" and he's like "so sorry to yell but do you know where I am and what year it is" so I reoriented him to a bunch of stuff and explained why so many people were walking past his door, and he seemed much calmer and more oriented by the time we were done talking. And he says "and what's your name?" So I tell him "Sarah" and he stares at me so I repeat "Sarah" and he stares at me so I spell "S-A-R-A-H" and he stares at me so I show him my name badge and he stares at me and then he says "now forgive me for being so blunt. But I was under the impression that Sarah is a girls name. Is that no longer correct?"

Anyway y'all ever be so fucking gnc that you inadvertently gaslight a confused old man into thinking there's yet another part of the world he no longer understands?

#i told him i am a girl i just have short hair because i thought that was the fastest and easiest way out of this #but it was very flattering

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st7rnioioss · 2 months

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omg hi i was wondering if you could write matt and/or chris x fem reader headcanons where she is so touch starved that she flinches or jerks away when shown affection. she loves being touched, she just isn’t used to it. no rush and if you’d prefer not to write it then i’m not forcing you to :)

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ touch starved!reader headcanons

matt sturniolo x touch starved!reader

chris sturniolo x touch starved!reader

warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of being touch starved to the bone

a/n: ahh i hope this lived up to your expectations. i’m not fully into all the touch starvation stuff, so i hope i didn’t completely fuck up

Chris

- When Chris first touched you, like hugging, unexpectedly taking your hand or simply caressing your arm, and you’d flinch, he would panic. I’m so sure this man is constantly worrying you’re gonna break, so he’d panic and be like ‘Holy fuck, did I hurt you? I’m so sorry’ and you’d have to explain you’re just not used to being touched.

- After being in a relationship with him for a little while, you’d ease more into it. We’ve all seen how much Chris likes to hug and touch his brothers, so you’d get so used to him always hanging around your shoulders, kissing you, holding your hand.

- As I mentioned, Chris would think it was his fault. You would sit down with him and explain, and this kid would not say a word. He’s an amazing listener when it comes to you.

- He’s clingy as fuuuuck. When understood that you’re just not used to be shown affection, he makes sure to show you some!! Always always always staying by your side. Even when you’re sleeping he’s wrapping an arm around your waist to have you as close to him as possible, mumbling a bunch of sweet praises even though you’re both basically asleep.

- I feel like i’m repeating myself, but you guys are attached to the hip. Always going places together, sitting next to each other, eating together, sleeping together etc etc.

- With that he also talks to you a lot. Inviting you to places, just as an excuse to be able to hold your hand, kiss you and talk to you.

Matt

- I’m trying not to make this too similar to Chris. I feel like Matt is more the type to always just hang out in his room, your room, going for a walk, watching a movie, all while making sure to let you get used to being touched - where I think Chris is more talkative with you, always bringing you places, just to talk with you and of course wrap an arm around your shoulders.

- Whenever Matt would touch you and you flinched, he’d immediately get so overprotective and make you sit down to talk. Like, this man is worrying 24/7, always just wanting to keep you as safe as possible. He’d literally force the words out of your mouth, talking to you for hours if that’s how it has to be, just so can fully understand what’s going on.

- After that he’d be cautious not to scare you or unexpectedly touch you even though you told him it’s alright, you’re just not used to be touched.

- He’s so careful not to do anything wrong to worsen it. That’s the last thing he’d ever want to do to you.

- I just know Matt is huge on hand holding and forehead kisses. Always taking your hand or kissing your forehead when he sees a chance to.

- We all know Matt didn’t attend Tara’s party, so I feel like he’d stay home with you whenever him and his brothers got invited to events, both for his own fault but also yours. Fair, he doesn’t like big crowds and all those people (i’m only assuming!!!), but it’s a win that he gets to spend time on the couch with you instead.

- I feel like he’d also always make sure to keep a hand on you, just to make you more used to being touched.

- I just imagine walking around town with Matt, not talking too much, but he is not letting go of your hand and then stopping to kiss you every once in a while. After a few weeks of being in a relationship with Matt, you no longer jerk or flinch.

- After getting used to being touched, he is not letting go of you istg. You’re not seen separately.

a/n: hope you like it and i did it correctly lmao

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt @gwenloremain @k-l-a-w-s

go to my taglist to be added!

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff

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the-oblivious-writer · 2 months

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Let The Light |7|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Seven: Tis' The Damn Season

Summary: After that eventful night at Tara's apartment, you find yourself pondering on a few things, but your banter with Tara never ceases. There is enough on your plate as it is, so when you bump into a familiar face it catches you completely off guard

Warning(s): Swearing, making out, mentions of drinking & intoxication, r has a case of bad communication, chemistry (like the actual subject 😣), compulsions, & implied anxiety

Notes: I took over a year off to cut you readers some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend - she's baackkk! 🤭 Ik you missed these stubborn little jerks, so did I. Also not this chapter being at like 10k+ words. Even then, there was a bunch more I wanted to add but I figured I'd save it for the next chapter (already plotting) I didn't wanna keep you waiting any longer than I already have

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The box of pizza and plate of wings sat completely abandoned, forgotten, on Charlotte’s coffee table as her hands traveled to your neck. You let your own hands drop to her hips, pulling her in. Her lips felt soft, yet foreign. You ignored that thought and continued to kiss her, slipping in your tongue while she maneuvered her way onto your lap.

Everything felt hot, you could feel your face heat up as she ever so slightly played with the hem of your shirt. When you gave her the silent signal, she slipped a hand under your shirt—not too high of course, but enough to feel your hips. You felt goosebumps at her touch, suddenly feeling nervous. You once again pushed any negative thoughts to the back of your mind, continuing to kiss her.

That’s when it clicked. Why you got so nervous all of a sudden, your mind was trying to tell you something, warn you.

You separated from her lips. She looked at you, a confused expression on her face. You weren’t meeting her eye line, feeling rather timid at the moment. “Are you okay?” She asked you. You barely heard her with your heartbeat drumming so loudly in your ears.

“Um…” You cleared your throat, still not meeting her gaze. “Yeah… I just—sorry.” Charlotte’s expression stayed put as you managed to remove yourself from the couch.

“Did I do something?” She asked, moving to also stand up. She looked at you with what you could only describe as confusion and concern. You couldn’t blame her one bit—one second you’re all over each other, the next you’re pulling back like she stung you.

“No—no, no, no,” you shook your head while gesturing with your right hand. “You did nothing wrong. I um,” you finally looked to meet her gaze, “it’s just been awhile, I guess.” You could only hope she didn’t see through your lame excuse, it wasn’t completely untrue.

“Oh,” Charlotte said. “…Oh,” she then repeated when she realized what you meant. “Shit, I didn’t push you did I?”

“I promise you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just been in a weird place …for a while,” you shrugged, not expecting to add that last part, your tone getting lower as you spoke those words.

“I get it,” she mustered an understanding tone.

A suffocating silence enveloped the room for a few seconds, causing you to look out the nearby window to be met with pitch darkness.

“It’s actually getting pretty late anyways and I’ve got an early shift in the morning…” You said while slowly getting your jacked that hung from the couch.

“Of course. Call me?”

“Yeah,” you briefly smiled at her while adjusting the collar of your jacket. “Sorry, again, for making things awkward,” you apologized while grabbing the last of your things.

“No, don’t worry about it. Stuff happens,” she waved you off while managing a reassuring tone.

You nodded at her before muttering, “thanks,” and finally leaving the apartment. As soon as you walked out into the crisp night air, you exhaled your own pocket of air you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

That’s when it all came crashing down; the awkwardness, stupidness, and cringyness that came from the situation all because you were scared to let your situationship see your scars.

Nice going.

You repeated words like moron, idiot, and dumbass while you walked to your car—the train of thought never breaking as you drove to your apartment. Manhattan’s late-night traffic didn’t exactly ease your frustration. You were in the middle of cursing out the car in front of you when your phone started to ring.

Still feeling ridiculously stupid, you were going to let it just ring out, but that was before you saw the contact name.

You answered the phone. “Tara?” You immediately asked with furrowed eyebrows. Why on earth is she calling you so late?

“Y/NN,” you heard her slur over the phone. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, immediately realizing what you were about to be in for. Before you could get another word out, she interrupted you. “Have I ever told you you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts?”

Your eyes widened as heat rushed to your face, your hands nearly slipping off the wheel. The tips of your ears suddenly began to feel very warm while your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could get sound to come out.

“I—uh,” you cleared your throat before continuing. “Where are you right now?”

“Hommee. Where else?” Her answer was followed by hiccups.

“I’m coming over,” you said firmly before hanging up. Being distracted any further by her voice was the last thing you needed right now. You silently hoped nothing drastic was waiting for you at her apartment as you changed your route.

When were you going to stop jinxing things?

—

It had now been a few weeks since the night at Tara’s apartment took place. Not long after you put her to bed, you gave yourself some time to reflect on her words. And ever since that night, you have been repeating them in your head whenever you were with the Carpenter. It seems as though she was able to move on easily, at least, her silence on the topic made it appear that way. On the outside, you gave the impression that you too had moved on from that night, that it had not affected you whatsoever. But on the inside, you were in emotional turmoil. With replaying your memories, that same tightening feeling in your chest that you felt that night reappeared.

There were so many key points of that night to completely crumble over; for starters, the incident with Charlotte. You are beyond embarrassed thanks to your repulsion for emotional intimacy. You knew if she saw your scars questions would ensue, thus putting you in an uncomfortable position to spill your guts out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen, but that alone had you thinking.

You’ve been on over four dates with Charlotte now and you have no idea where you stand with her. She’s just a situation-ship as of right now, and for all you know she could be seeing this as more. But the thought of asking her where you stand with her makes you emotionally grimace and cause your stomach to churn.

If you can’t even talk to her about your relationship status, should you even continue seeing her? This question had you thinking even further. Maybe you rushed into this relationship, maybe it was far too soon. Was nearly a year too soon?

That was the last time you were in a relationship, the last time you allowed yourself any form of emotional intimacy with a partner. But that was the result of three years, three years of building trust and connection. It was going to take a lot more than just a few dates with someone you don’t truly know to recreate that. It was going to take effort.

As for the Tara part of that night, you didn’t even know where to begin. Where could you? From her compliments to her insults, the night was certainly an eventful one. And just to think, you had seen her just hours before and there hadn’t seemed to be any issues.

The coming semester is certainly going to be an interesting one.

—

You and Tara were in your apartment, huffing and groaning could be heard throughout your room. She sat cross legged at the edge of your bed while you were leaned up against the headboard. Papers sprawled all over the bed, pens and pencils scattered—almost imitating what the inside of your mind currently looked like.

“Was the first sheet you gave me—was it nine or seven?!”

You let out a huff, mixed with a long sigh, at Tara’s repeated question. After running a hand down your face, you slid closer beside her to get a better look at her paper. “This is table nine right here,” you emphasized by rapidly tapping your pencil on the spot of the paper you wanted her to focus on.

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled, “Oh my god—” She turned her head to looked at you as she huffed, “Answer my fucking question with a yes or a no; was it a yes—was it a nine or a seven?”

You muttered a few curses under your breath—curses you knew she heard because of your close proximity—before taking your pencil to her paper once again. “Alright, okay so I’m gonna circle this—”

“What the fuck—?!”

“This is—this is nine,” you glanced at her for a moment to make sure she was paying attention. All you were met with was a dumbfounded look.

“But what’s the top??”

“That’s table seven.”

There were a few seconds of her just staring at the paper and you looking between her and the paper until she said something.

“What?” Her voice indifferent.

“So I’m assuming you don’t get it…”

She turned her gaze from her paper to you, hitting you with a hard glare. “No, asshole. I don’t get it.” She then threw her pencil to the side and got up from the bed. Her arm brushes against yours as she does so but you choose not to pay any mind.

“I’m so tired of chemistry,” she all but whined before dramatically plopping back down on your bed face first.

“You’re the one that said you needed help,” you pointed out while curiously flipping through her notebook. “I remember wanting to stick with routine and work on our history project.” Her doodles are cute.

“So helpful,” she sarcastically remarked, muffled; she was still face planted on your mattress, right beside you.

“I try,” you reply in a monotone voice; you were still flipping through her notes as you talked.

Tara rolled over on her back, pushing loose strands of her raven hair away from her face. She exhaled before clearing her throat—which didn’t get your attention, so she tried again …and again, after the third time she just settled for throwing a nearby pillow at your head.

You finally turned to look at her with furrowed eyebrows and a hand to the back of your head. “Um, can I help you?”

“Can we just start on the math now?”

“You couldn’t have asked that without the pillow to my head?” You asked incredulously.

“Do you have this, like, mental illness that prevents you from properly answering ‘yes or no’ questions—”

“Get your other notes out before I change my mind.”

Tara scrambled over to the side of the bed, reaching over to grab her bag that sat beside your bed. She quickly wiped off a giddy smile as she took out her needed papers. You were neatly setting her previous papers to the side as she did so.

“Alright, what do you got for me, Carpenter?” You inquired while she scooted back next to you; you’re both sitting side by side, leaning against your bed’s headboard as you looked at the page of notes she was showing you.

“This is basically everything that's going to be on my exam next week,” her stress regarding her exams was evident from her tone. “Some topics I’m good with, other’s I’m okay with, and a few I’m struggling with.” She turned to look at you, eyes practically burning holes in the side of your head with a pleading look. Pleading for you to help her.

After a moment of silence—of you intently staring at the paper—you hummed to yourself, nodding, as you finally returned Tara’s gaze before speaking. “I have highlighters; I want you to circle the ones you’re okay with in orange, and the one’s you’re struggling with in red,” you told her while reaching into the drawer of your nightstand for the highlighters.

All you got was a brief, “Mhm,” while you blindly thrashed your hand around for the highlighters. When you finally got the right colors, you handed them to her before getting up from your bed which earned you a confused look from the other girl.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom. Don’t miss me too much,” you couldn't help but smirk at the girl, leaving before she had the chance to counteract. You weren’t sure if you were smirking because of your own remark, or if it was thought Tara was missing you. It definitely left a warm feeling inside of you.

She doesn’t miss you. She wants less of you, remember? Your head reminded you, causing that familiar feeling of your chest tightening. Your breathing was still a bit hollow from the feeling as you finished up in the bathroom and walked back to your bedroom.

“You finished?” You asked Tara while returning to your previous seat beside her.

“Yes but I have a proposition for you,” Tara responded almost immediately. You stopped your movements, eyeing her with a suspicious look.

“Lay it on me,” you said.

“We can continue doing all this,” she gestured to her notes, “—but instead we can do it in a place with food.”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, please.”

“I want to go to the diner nearby, and finish studying there. I’m tired and starving—and you haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks so I already know there’s not much to find in your fridge.”

“Wait, how do you know the last time I went shopping?”

Tara ignored your question, instead continuing to look at you with those doe eyes of hers as she continued to plead. “Pleeeaaase, Y/N?”

You looked at her, feigning a reluctant look before letting out a sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Thank goodness. My stomach was starting to make noises I’ve never heard before,” she said as she was gathering her papers.

—

“Done!” Tara announced in a cheery tone. You looked up from your book as she slid over the sheet of loose leaf she was just working on. “I put a star next to number three; I was having trouble with that one the most,” she told you before sipping her half drunken milkshake.

You nodded her way as your eyes skimmed her paper. “All these are correct—including number three. Was there a specific reason you didn’t fully understand it?”

“Mainly the order of the steps,” she answered.

“I see. Well you were correct. But if you continue to have trouble with the memorization stuff, flashcards are great memorization tools. Especially colored ones. I can lend you some of you want,” you offered her while giving her back the piece of paper.

“Oh—yeah. Totally,” she chuckled before loudly clearing her throat and practically shoving the straw in her milkshake into her mouth. There was something that washed over her—possibly embarrassment? You couldn’t be too sure. But why would she be embarrassed? Sometimes you wish you could hear her thoughts, just so you could get some insight on what was going through her head during certain moments.

Tara stared down at her straw, subconsciously refusing to pick up her head until she felt less flushed. That was so embarrassing, she kept thinking to herself. ToTalLy! Goodness, Tara, she just offered you some flash cards—not her hand in marriage. Her cheeks got even warmer at the idea.

“You good, Tar?” You just had to ask with that painfully soft voice you get when you’re concerned. Oh, and why did you have to call her Tar? She still remembers when you called her Tar for the first time—you and her were in her bedroom after the incident at the halloween party. She felt her knees physically grow weak as heat rushed to her ears, and now she’s found herself in that same predicament due to you opening your stupid, occasionally sweet, mouth.

“Hm? Great!”

“Um,” you let out a short, awkward, and airy laugh. “Okay, good, yeah.” Your eyes subconsciously took a quick scan around the diner due to Tara’s sudden volume change. “So anyways, from the looks of those problems, you’re gonna nail your exam. Just try not to overthink your answers too much.”

Tara hummed before returning to her milkshake just to realize she was all out. Guess she’s going to have to find another thing to distract her eyes from you.

You, on the other hand, were still confused. Did you say something? Why did she seem so timid all of a sudden? Did the flashcards somehow cross a line? If so, in what way did it? Tara was being a little too silent for your liking, which is really saying something considering how much you value your quiet time.

You were about to do one of the hardest things you have ever done. Attempt small talk.

You cleared your throat, “So. How’s—how are you and uh Chad?” This finally got Tara to look up. She eyed you with a confused expression. “Like, dating and stuff,” you awkwardly added. Your palms were already growing sweaty as your leg began to bounce.

“Me and Chad? Dating?” That’s when she bursted out laughing, handing over her mouth and everything. You suddenly felt like a total dumbass but you weren’t sure as to why. Were they no longer dating? Well obviously, if you had to take anything from her reaction. But you weren’t doing a lot of laughing when you and your ex-girlfriend broke up.

“Oh—I’m sorry, let me catch my breath for a second.” She literally wiped away a tear from how hard she was laughing before speaking up again. “Y/N, Me and Chad are not together.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. And we never will be, never ever ever.”

“Never ever?”

“Never ever.”

You couldn’t help the sudden wave of relief that washed over you, but you weren’t sure where it came from.

“But I saw you two kissing at a party,” you told her.

“Right …that. Yeah, I try not to think about that night if I’m being honest. It was honestly super embarrassing; I was completely drunk, so drunk to the point where I thought he was… someone else,” her voice grew a little quieter towards the end as she sank a little in her booth.

“Oh.” Was all you said. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you? That night was a misunderstanding, and judging by Tara’s words and reaction to the accusation of her and Chad dating—that relationship is long from happening. Yet another feeling of relief washed over you as you had that thought.

“Yeah,” Tara shrugged. That’s when something clicked in her head …she could use this awkward discussion to her advantage. “Since we’re on the topic of dating, how are you and Charlotte? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.” And good riddance for that, she silently thought to herself.

“I kinda ended that,” you nonchalantly answered before shoving a fry in your mouth.

“Oh that sucks,” she feigned a sympathetic tone. “It seemed like you two were really hitting it off.”

“I guess.”

Tara wanted to leave it that, really she did, but she just couldn’t help but pry. “Something happened?” She asked you.

“Nope. Just fizzled, I guess. situation-ships do that sometimes, not surprising.”

“Wait, ‘situation-ship’? What do you mean by that?” Her question and her tone of interest had you looking at her with raised eyebrows, utterly confused for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“Like, it wasn’t serious. I wouldn't call her my girlfriend, doubt she’d call me hers. Nothing more than a casual relationship,” you responded, for some reason you felt the need to tread lightly.

“Didn’t you go on like five dates? If you go on multiple dates, that means you’re dating. Thus the word dating being an extension to date,” she sternly replied.

“Alright, I understand the responsibility of a verb—why are you getting upset over this?”

“I’m not upset.” The pout she wore as she defensively crossed her arms with slumped shoulders told you otherwise. “I just—I don’t know. I want pie.”

“Okay. I’ll get you pie, but could we please switch to a different subject?”

“Fine,” she mumbled; her gaze may have been directed toward her napkin, but it threatened to meet you every second.

—

“I can’t believe you finally watched it!” You exclaimed to Tara. The both of you were headed back to your apartment; it was dark out as it lightly snowed. You were holding the bag of leftovers, walking on the street-side of the sidewalk as Tara kept her hands firmly placed in her jacket pockets, protecting them from what felt like sub-zero temperature.

“I only avoided it for so long because of you!” She laughed.

“Wow, so you’ve been missing out on one of the greatest shows of all time due to pettiness?”

“Okay, okay—I said it was good, not great.”

“Ah, but you wanna say great. It’s that darn pettiness holding you back, once again,” you said as your smile never broke.

“Did you just say ‘darn’?”

“Yeah, what?”

Tara only laughed as she shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Oh! You should watch the extended cut—if you thought it was funny before, you're gonna love the superfan episodes.”

“I’ll give them a shot,” she truthfully responded. She would say anything to keep you talking like this. One of the things she loved listening to was you geeking out over something you were passionate about. Maybe it was the sound of your voice, maybe it was how you lit up, maybe it was how animated you were while talking.

“Definitely do—” You were cut off by a body colliding into you, causing you to drop the bag of leftovers you were carrying. You muttered a “sorry” before crouching down to pick it up. Tara was about to help until your eyes met with the other person’s.

“Y/N?” The stranger asked.

“Olivia?” You mirrored a confused look.

What was your highschool sweetheart from Woodsborro doing in the middle of Manhattan?

“Oh my gosh—it really is you.” Olivia laughed a bit as the realization set in. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit too.

“Yeah—yeah, and it’s you.” You responded before she came in for a hug. Your movement stuttered for a second before welcoming her hug. She was still as warm as the day you met, her dark hair still holding its shine it did since the last time you saw her.

The hug was understandably awkward, but for once you didn’t mind awkward. “What are you doin’ in New York?” You finally asked her.

“I’m here for this documentary thing I’m working on,” she said.

“That’s right—your documentaries. I’m glad you’re still at those,” you told her in a genuine tone.

She grew a smile at the words you spoke. “Thanks… that means a lot.”

“Oh—uh, you remember Tara, right?” You turned and briefly pointed at the Carpenter who slightly waved.

“Yeah, I do. Hey,” Olivia said with no bitterness. She took a few steps and held out her hand to Tara, which the other girl took.

“Hey,” Tara nodded with a tight lipped smile.

“I’m surprised you two are out in public together,” Olivia joked. You and Tara both laughed awkwardly at your dynamic being brought up.

“Me too,” you joked back. “So uh—you staying long?” You asked, purposely deflecting to a different topic.

“It’s currently indefinite, I’m crashing at a friend’s place right now.” There was a glint in your eye that Olivia picked up. “Would you like to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to catch up.”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” you replied; you were trying your best to hide your eagerness.

“Awesome,” she grinned at you. “So, see you around?”

“See you around,” you said. You instantly began to cringe at yourself as she started walking away, but she didn’t leave without giving you one last look. As soon as she left ear shot, you let out a long awaited sigh.

“Geez.” The sound of Tara’s voice caused you to flinch, you completely forgot she was standing right there. “That was hard to watch,” she remarked.

“No one asked,” you said with an eye roll as the two of you began to walk again.

“Someone’s bitter,” she replied. “Hey—” She put the back of her hand on your chest to stop you from walking as she turned to look at you, “Let’s go to my place instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanna finish these leftovers on the roof,” she answered.

“My apartment has a roof,” you told her.

“Not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

“It's just not. Now come on before our food gets even colder and more destroyed.”

“I guess I’m following you,” you mumbled while trailing behind Tara.

—

You and Tara were sitting on white patio chairs; the same ones you recall from the last few times you’ve been up on the roof. The wind had calmed down since your walkover, snow still lightly falling from the sky. You were eating your fries as Tara was eating what was left of her pie.

“I’m just saying, I could totally take down a bear.”

“Not in a million years, Tara. You, a 5 foot gremlin, versus a big furry thing with claws that could rip you to shreds? Be serious,” you deadpanned.

“First of all, I’m 5 foot 1, second of all, you’re really underestimating me here. If I can take down a sociopath while crippled—”

Tara didn’t talk about Woodsboro a whole lot, really the only time she’s talked about it—with you at least—was the night it happened, the party at Henry’s house, and just now if that even counted. She never seemed to name-drop anyone connected to that night. But you understood. You don’t remember the last time you said Dewey’s name out loud.

“A sociopath? Yes. But last I checked, the said sociopath didn’t have the same physical traits as a bear—therefore, your argument holds no power.” You shoved a few fries in your mouth before silently offering her some, in which she accepted.

You glanced over at her to see her expression—she looked kind of disappointed. You sighed, thinking for a moment, before speaking again. “Okay, I’m not saying you have no chance. You’d still do some damage—and I guess it’s not impossible to beat a bear.” You hated the instant flip in your stomach from seeing the way she lit up, it was subtle but you’re grateful you noticed.

She smiled, almost grinning but she resisted. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“Jump on its back, put it in a headlock,” you added with your own little smile.

“Exactly. You get me,” she absentmindedly said right before taking another bite of her pie.

“What a mad world we live in,” you joked while reaching beside your chair for your milkshake. Tara wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but she just decided to ignore it rather than dwell on it—at least for the moment. She looked over to see you sipping your milkshake and a sly smile appeared on her face as she began to lean closer to you, her elbows resting on her chair’s armrest and expression never faltering.

“You want something, Tar?”

“That’s an awfully tasty looking milkshake you have there,” she commented; she feigned an innocent tone.

You glanced at her from your peripheral vision—she was on your left side—as you played with the straw in your milkshake. “Tara…” You all but sang. She hummed in response, her position still the same. “Would you like my milkshake?” You asked, but your tone hinted that you already knew what her answer was going to be.

“Well, I guess since you’re offering. Who would I be to pass up a perfectly good milkshake?”

“You’re a piece of work,” you remarked with a broad smile that Tara could describe as gleaming.

“You’re the sucker who gave me her milkshake,” she sneered before taking a sip from said milkshake.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, ‘cause this sucker could easily take it back,” you threatened, lightly laughing along with the other girl.

She scoffed and waved her free hand, “Yeah right. I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, yeah?” You get up from your chair, eyes never leaving Tara. “I bet I could take it back from you, no sweat.”

A smirk grew on Tara’s face as she also got up from her chair. “Okay, okay, you’re on then. Winner takes all—all being the milkshake.”

“You got yourself a deal.”

“Okay then let’s do this, come on bring it,” Tara’s grin was just too strong to fight off as she lifted up her elbows; one, to use as a shield for her milkshake, and two, to use as her weapon.

You let out a laugh when you saw a defense mechanism. “That’s pathetic,” you quipped.

“Oh, really?” She said with raised eyebrows. She then shoved her elbows towards you, both of you laughing during all this.

“Oh!” You took that as a chance to grab her from behind and wrap your arms around her waist, holding her in place as she attempted to break loose; in her defense, it wasn’t as easy to do so while she was flushed against you, her face heating up from both the action and her ceaseless laughter.

The milkshake dropped to the floor, but neither of you paid any mind. You lifted her up a bit as you spoke, “Not much of a fighter now, huh?” You quipped in a smug tone.

“You are so playing dirty right now!” She said; her shirt rose a little bit and her hands were loosely holding onto your forearms.

“I don’t remember seeing a rule book. Just surrender and I’ll put you down,” you told her as if it was the simplest thing ever; for anyone else, it would have been.

“No way!” At her response you lifted her higher at which she started rapidly patting arm.

“You finally surrender?”

“Never in a bazillion years!” Just as Tara said that, she felt a drop of water on her forehead. She furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at the night sky. “Shit—I think it’s raining.”

“Yeah right, you just don’t wanna be the one to surrender,” you accused while adjusting your hold on Tara.

“I actually felt—” Before Tara could finish her sentence, a loud grumble could be heard as it started to abruptly pour. “I told you!”

“Shit,” you cursed as you put Tara down.

“We need to get inside.”

“Incredible observation. Thought of being a detective?” You quipped.

“Shut up. It’s freezing, let’s just get inside.” Tara was visibly shivering, wrapping her arms around each other while hugging them close to her torso.

“Okay, come on.”

Tara barely let you finish speaking as she started rushing towards the door. “Wait—! Tara, don't run! You could slip!” You tried to match her speed without breaking your neck in the process. You nearly sighed in relief when she slowed down.

She looked at you with an inpatient look as she waited for you to catch up. You were in the process of taking off your jacket as you caught up to her. “If you’re going to slow me down, at least walk a little faster. I’m getting drenched, and this outfit isn’t exactly water resistant—I’m not water resistant!”

“Geez, alright. Quit complaining.” You caught up to her, trailing behind her as you wrapped your jacket around her. “Stop looking at me funny, just open the door,” you said in response to the lost expression she gave you.

She mumbled something incoherent while reaching for the door’s handle and turning.

As soon as you stepped inside, you let out a long exhale while rubbing your hands together. You looked beside you to see Tara attempting to shake off the water she was drenched in; of course, as a result, she ended up spraying you in the process. “Do you have to do that near me?”

“Where else am I doing it?” She tightened your jacket around her, holding it impossibly close to keep herself warm.

“Whatever, I gotta get home anyway. Picked up a few extra shifts,” you said while double checking your phone’s dryness.

“I thought the cafe gave you off on Saturdays.”

“Uh, yeah. I do. I’m—covering for a coworker, I owe them so,” you trailed off with a shrug; you batted your eyes away from Tara, suddenly finding your drenched jeans very interesting. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you,” Tara responded; you made your way down the stairs but not before sparing a small smile.

—

It was the next day, 8:52 am on a Saturday. You had woken up around 4:00 since you had to get in around 7:00 to help set up and open at 8:00. Exhaustion was hitting you back and forth, the only thing that was keeping you awake, barely, was your few hours old coffee you had brought from home. Staying out late with Tara was really biting you in the ass, but you were usually tired these days so it wasn’t much of a difference.

Although it was slow since the day had just begun for many, you still found yourself dealing with incompetence so early in the morning. Truly, it was too early for this. If one more person asked about Halloween stuff, Thanksgiving stuff—any other thing they should’ve gotten months prior, you are going to bash your head into a wall.

Why are people asking their barista about stupid out of season decorations? It’s simple, the cafe wasn’t paying you enough; attending college and living off campus wasn’t getting any cheaper and you needed a reliable job. So when you saw that Target was hiring, you applied. That’s how you came to balance two jobs and some of the most insufferable customers you have ever had the displeasure of conversing with.

“I’m sorry miss, but we stopped selling that after October. But if you’d like, I can show you to the candy aisle—”

“No, listen to me, these are what I want,” she snarled while shoving her phone in your face; her phone showed a picture of the Halloween candy she wanted. “I don’t want regular sour patch, I don't want regular m&m’s, I don’t want regular reese’s pieces—I want Hal-lo-ween candy.”

“I know that, but miss—”

“Can you just go check in the back? Please? My son has been driving me insane and I need to at least do this one thing right,” she begged.

You let out a silent sigh, “Of course. I’ll go check in the back to see if we have anything left.”

“See, now that wasn’t so hard,” she said as you made your way to the storage room. You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore her statement. It really was too early for this.

You went into the storage and sat down on a nearby box; you just stared at the ceiling, zoning out for about a minute before heading back.

“I apologize, we don’t have what you're looking for. Is there anything else I can help with?”

She scoffed at you, clutching her purse as she did so. “No, I do not need your help because clearly it is no use. Your manager will be hearing from me,” she angrily said before strutting away.

“I’m sure he’ll love that,” you remark out loud to yourself. Once she’s out of your eye line, you let out an aggravated sigh. Working in retail is not for the weak.

You walked back to the end of the aisle and began to restock the shelves again, the thing you were previously doing before being interrupted. You picked up one of the boxes of cereal when your hand accidentally knocked something out of your pocket. It fell by your feet, you glanced at it for a moment before looking back at the shelf—but that’s when it registered what it was. You immediately placed down the box then kneeled down to pick up what you dropped.

It was a folded piece of paper. You slightly furrowed your eyebrows as you unfolded it before you traded your confusion for a smile. You looked at the doodles that covered the paper, the doodles drawn by Tara. Her name was even signed at the corner; sometimes she draws her name in different fonts to pass the time. Over the years, you noticed her favorite font to draw is graffiti lettering. You were now standing up, still smiling down at the piece of paper. You always admired the way she wrote—

—Suddenly somebody clears their throat. You jumped, blinking rapidly while attempting to shove the paper back into your pocket. You turn your head around to see your co-worker, Avery, crossing her arms while giving you a look you couldn’t quite read. “Secret admirer?” She remarked with a smirk.

“No, it’s just—it’s nothing. Scraps, really if you could even call it that,” you stammered while trying to nonchalantly lean against the shelves. It wasn’t a total failure, you guess.

“...Right,” she narrowed her eyes at her, clearly not believing your crappy save, but dropped it nevertheless. “Anyways, me, Vicky and a few of the others are gonna go out for a drink tonight; can I count you in?”

You stopped leaning on the shelves as you thought for a moment. You usually weren’t one for going out, but it’s been a long few months. With that thought, everything that’s happened in the past year flashes through your mind. It’s been nothing but motion sickness, and maybe you could go for a drink or two.

“You know what—yeah, I’m in,” you nodded at her before returning to the boxes of cereals that sat in the cart beside you.

“Wait, really? You never wanna come to these things …damn it, I owe Vicky like 20 bucks,” Avery silently moped as she walked away. You laughed a bit at her comment as you continued stocking the shelves.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

—

When you got home that day, you made sure to take a nap before it was time to leave for the bar. When you got there, you stood at the doorway for a few seconds, honestly not sure what your next move was but luckily you caught Avery’s eye and she waved you over. You walked over to where she and the others sat at—the bar—you sat down on the stool beside Avery who was sat next to Vicky. You were surprised they weren’t sitting on the same stool with how tangled with each other they were.

“You made it!!” Avery shouted in a cheery voice that made you wince as she pumped her fists in the air. “Look, Vicky! Y/N’s here!” Vicky nodded at the girl while trying to subtly ground her by rubbing her lower back.

She looked over at you with an apologetic look. “Sorry, she gets kinda loud and hyper when she’s drunk.”

You chuckled a little, giving her a reassuring shake with your head. “Don’t worry about it, I’m a pretty embarrassing drunk anyways so I couldn’t talk. Probably why I don’t do it much,” you told her while your arms rested on the table.

“Gosh, I can’t wait to see you drunk,” she said while adjusting her arm as Avery was now resting her head on Vicky’s shoulder.

“That’s never gonna happen—just a club soda for me. At most I’ll do some watered down beer, but that’s really it,” you said.

“Wow.”

“I know, I’m a party animal,” you quipped with sarcasm laced in your voice.

“Total rebel,” she added as you both laughed. “So, other than the fact that you’re a total bad boy—how are you liking New York?” She asked with Avery still wrapped around her who had snuggled up closer to her.

“It’s fine. Hasn’t changed much since the last time I lived here.”

“Yeah? Did you live in Manhattan before or someplace else?”

“Brooklyn. I was born there, and lived there until …I didn’t,” you answered with your train of thought trailing off with your answer. So much has changed since you moved. What if you didn’t move? What if you never moved back? What if you lived in Woodsboro first? What if—

“—Did your family move around a lot?” She asked another question out of pure curiosity.

“Uh…” You picked at the wood surface in front of you, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted. “ No. Just one time.”

“Cool, my family moved around a few times. It’s a pretty hard thing to go through, even if it’s just once,” she said in an understanding tone. She looked back to Avery, smiling to herself as she stared admirably at the half-a-sleep girl nuzzled up against her.

You glanced over at the adorable site before asking, “How long have you two been dating?”

“A couple months, but we’ve known each other for ten years,” she responded while pushing back loose strands of hair that covered Avery’s eyes.

“That’s a long time,” was all you could think to say.

“Yeah, she’s literally my other half. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” After letting herself stare at Avery for another moment, Vicky turned her gaze back to you. “How about you—you seeing anyone?”

“Eh.”

“Eh?”

“I was uh, sort of seeing someone? But broke that off recently. Too close for comfort,” you elaborated for her while silently deciding if you should drink tonight.

“Your casual relationship get too intimate?” She raised an eyebrow before you responded with a tiny nod, she probably would have missed it if she blinked in the same moment. “Yeah, I used to be like that before Avery.”

“Guess I just gotta wait for my Avery,” you half-joked, earning a laugh from Vicky.

“I hope you do, she’s definitely a keeper,” she said fondly. She looked at you—your head now resting on your folded arms—and saw the distraught expression you wore, it looked as if you were silently having a debate with yourself.

“Something up?”

You did a double-take at her, lifting up your head before sparing her a meek smile. “Just thinking, you know?”

Vicky nodded before adding on. “You need advice? I’ve always been told I give great advice.” Her voice was kind and held nothing but honesty.

“Sure…” You were hesitant to accept but you were also on the verge of digging yourself into a hole just to avoid decision making. To be fair, you often think about barricading yourself to avoid dealing with your problems—and oftentimes, you have actually done it. “So last night I bumped into my ex,” you reluctantly began, “and we briefly talked, and she mentioned meeting up sometime to catch up.”

“I’m assuming you’re nervous about the catching up part?”

You confirmed with a hum.

“Are you nervous about being the first to reach out, the catching up part overall, or both?”

“Yes.”

She let out a tiny laugh, not unkindly, before telling you that advice she told you about not long ago. “This was all last night, right? I say, wait a couple more days, then reach out if you’re up to it, and then once you get that part out of the way the rest will build itself.”

“You really think so?”

“Promise, I really don’t think you should stress too much on this. And listen, if you’re really not ready to meet up with her yet, I think she’d understand. Either way, it’s your choice,” she told you before sipping her drink.

“That’s… really good advice. Thank you,” you complimented.

“You’re welcome, anytime. I did mention that I give great advice.”

“I said good, not great,” you said in a tone that hinted you were just teasing.

“Yeah, okay whatever.” Vicky playfully rolled her eyes as you smiled at your own taunting.

Maybe this was not as bad as you were making it out to be, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to look up.

—

Things were awful. You could never have been so wrong in your life. It was one thing after another. First with the text; you had to just hope Olivia didn’t change her number as you looked for her contact—which you had to look for by number since your removed her name and photo right after your breakup out of pure pettiness—and it took you about half an hour to think of the right words to send, and as soon as you sent them you immediately regretted it.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Next was when she actually responded.

Y/N (4:42 pm) Hey, it’s Y/N. Catching up sounds cool, so if the offer still stands I’d love to take you up on it

(XXX) XXX-XXXX (4:56 pm) Hi, yeah offer still stands. I’m actually free tonight if that works? I know that’s short notice so I completely understand if you’re unable to

You were in the middle of revising your notes at the kitchen counter when you heard the ding from the couch. Your head immediately shot up, and as soon as it processed what that ding was—you ran to it, hopping over the back of the couch and grabbing your phone.

You read the message over to yourself exactly seven times before impulsively reacting to her message with a thumbs up. After your response, you got another text from Olivia and the two of you made a decision of when and where to meet.

Oh, how deeply you regretted your impulsiveness as you stared at the same outfit over and over again. That’s what came right after the communication part; what exactly you were going to wear. You felt ridiculous, you’re usually not like this—but that happens to be a reminder of all the different things Olivia brings out in you. Good and bad. It was like you were 17 again.

Eventually you decided on something comfortable, casual, it’s not like you were going someplace fancy. The air in your apartment suddenly grew to be suffocating the closer it got to the time you had to leave. You gathered your belongings; you gathered your wallet, keys, phone, headphones, and lighter, shoving a few of them into your pockets. Just before leaving you stood still for a second.

What could I be missing? There has to be something. There has to be something. Damn it, there has to be something!

Your eyes wandered around your apartment for a good minute before you called it in. You patted yourself down while muttering the names of the items you felt in your pockets before finally leaving. You locked up behind you and let out a long sigh as you ran your hand down your face.

When you got to the bakery, your heart was beating in your ears and you felt your ears warm up when you made eye contact with Olivia from just a few tables away. She waved at you and you waved back as you subtly gulped. On the way towards the table, you silently hoped she didn’t pick up on the urge you had to perish right then and there.

“Hey,” you said. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hug her or shake her hand, something, so you just stuck with sending a small but simple smile her way.

“Hi,” she responded. She returned your smile as she looked you up and down. “You look good—I mean, you look yeah,” she awkwardly laughed, flustered from her stammering.

You returned a short laugh, feeling a tiny bit of the tension beginning to ease but not entirely, “You look good too,” your smile grew softer as you spoke. You noticed her eyes still wandering. “Didn’t get a good look last time?” You quipped in a teasing tone.

She shook her head as she tried to fight off the bright smile that painted her face. “I see you haven’t changed much,” she said.

“Well, me and change have never mixed well.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” she made her tone less monotone to ease the weight of her words. But that didn’t make you oblivious to their meaning.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your posture while you folded your hands and dropped them to your lap. “So, how’s the documentary going?”

“Just fine,” she said positively. “Still in the early stages, and you know how that can be.” You nodded along to her words. It suddenly became awkwardly quiet.

You picked at your cuticles, pressing harder and harder for that sweet sensation you craved, your gaze everywhere but at Olivia. That tension you felt before started to settle in your chest again, and you didn’t know how to cope. You just wanted out. You regretted agreeing to this. You wish you never bumped into her. You wish you never agreed to dinner with Tara because then this wouldn't be happening.

Of course it goes back to Tara. It always seems to.

“You still do that thing with your fingers?” She asked out of the blue.

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your lap to where your hands rested.

“I don’t have to look to know. I've known you for three years, Y/N,” she said.

“Oh.”

“And I can hear you picking at them from under the table.”

You suddenly felt small, slumping in your chair, and continuing to avoid eye contact with the woman who sat across from you. However, Olivia did not return this treatment. She sat up in her chair, placing her own hands on the table before turning them over to expose her palms. “Let me see your hands.”

“What?”

“Show. Me. Your. Hands.”

It didn’t seem like she was asking. There was definitely not a question mark in there. You rolled your eyes, letting out a small sigh that held aggravation. Reluctantly, you complied with her commands. She took your hands in hers and began to examine them, her fingers tracing down and softly rubbing against yours—you forgot how soft her hands were. As soon as her hands made contact with yours, you felt your joints grow weak and your cheeks felt too warm. You don’t remember the last time you held hands with her but it was certainly having an affect on you.

“Have you been using these as a chew toy?” She rhetorically asked, referring to your fingers whilst still examining them.

“Okay, they’re not that bad.”

“Yes. Yes they are,” she said with no hesitation.

She finally stopped looking at your fingers and instead at you. When you saw the worried expression that painted her face, you knew a line of questioning was approaching. “Are you okay?” She inquired in an unbearably gentle voice.

“I’m fine.”

“Which means you’re not fine.”

“Putting words into my mouth, as always,” you said in a low tone as you pulled your hands away from her.

“You really want to go there?” She let out a short exasperated laugh with her question, raising her eyebrows as she spoke.

“When I say I’m fine—I’m fine,” you said while leaning in and emphasizing your words by pressing on the table with your index finger; you leaned back against your chair when you finished speaking.

“Oh my God. You are literally so unbelievable—do you even hear yourself?” She looked at you with pure disbelief which only confused you further.

“What are you even talking about? All I said is that when I say I’m fine, I mean those words. How am I wrong here? I genuinely don’t understand,” you expressed in both frustration and genuine confusion.

“And what I am trying to say is you’re still the exact same person I was arguing with right before we broke up.”

“What?”

“You never want to talk! Listen, baby, I get you’re grieving—but you can’t just shut me out like this. It’s apparent that you need help! You don’t have to rush into it, but eventually—”

“Whether I talk or not is my choice! And I’m not seeing some stupid grief counselor, okay? Just because I don’t wanna talk to you about certain things, doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out—and I don’t need help! I’m fine. I’m just—damn it, I’m just processing. Can’t you let me do that at least?”

“You have been ‘processing’ for months! It’s time to—”

“Time to what? Move one?”

“That’s not what I was going to say!”

“But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking it just like everyone else is; my mom, my brothers, everyone at school—just leave me alone, all right!”

“Y/N, nobody is—”

“No! Everyone is thinking! Just stop, okay! I don’t need your bullshit sweet nothings, I don’t need some therapist, I don't need to talk about it—I’m fine!”

You and her could not even go five minutes without your conversation, or lack of, forming into an argument. And it was your fault. You were the problem. You couldn’t answer a simple question. Maybe you were hiding behind the fact that you didn’t know how to answer that question, or that you're trying to hide the answer from others. Either way, you always find yourself forming emotional barricades around you, no one in and no one out.

“Hey, come back,” Olivia’s voice rang. You were pulled from your thoughts, blinking rapidly as if it would wipe away the memories you tried so hard to erase. She leaned in, her irritated expression replaced with a comforting one. “I know how mean that voice in your head can be, I know what it does to you—but I just want you to be okay.”

You met her gaze, your expression equivalent to the look of a lost puppy. “Thank you, Olivia,” you simply said. It was not much, but it still weighed in emotion.

The rest of the night was less intense. She asked about Blackmore and how it’s going, which inevitably opened the door to her questioning you about seeing you with Tara the other night, and you found out more about her documentary. The night was long and tiring, but as much as you hate to admit it, you’re glad you agreed to catch up with Olivia. And you would be a bold faced liar if you said you didn’t miss her. The wound is still arguably fresh, but it’s beginning to heal.

You walked into the apartment, looking forward to changing into a pair of pajamas and binge watching some TV on the couch until you passed out. You have been studying non-stop for exams for the past four weeks, so why not give yourself a treat? Plus, this upcoming school week, you will officially be exactly one week from exams so you will be locked in. What does that mean? You do what you usually do but multiply that by a million, anyone who has known you long enough knows they’re going to hear less and less from you the closer you get to exams. It’s as if you completely shut down from the outside—actually, that’s exactly what happens.

As you walked inside, you yawned and rubbed your tired eyes. But as they begin to focus again, you notice a few blobs sitting in your living room. When your eyes are fully focused, that’s when you see them.

“Are you shitting me,” you expressed in a monotone voice while turning the locks on the door before throwing your keys to the side.

“No—no whining!” Anika immediately said. “You knew they were coming over.”

“I thought you canceled,” you said.

“Uncanceled.”

“What a miracle,” you remarked as you took off your jacket.

“How come whenever I have people over you have a problem with it as if this isn't a shared apartment?”

“Y/N being an inconsiderate jackass? What a revolation,” Tara pitched in with a smirk. You looked over to deadpan at her and she was already staring back at you.

“Says the woman who still owes me a milkshake,” you wiggled a finger at her. You both smiled at each other before you turned back around to kick off your shoes. “You know what, Nik, it’s fine. I’m just kind of grumpy right now.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for not giving you an update,” she said, matching your own apoplectic tone. “You wanna join us? We were gonna play some Uno then watch a movie.”

“Uh, I don’t know—”

“Yeah, probably 'cause you’re gonna get all embarrassed when I wipe the floor with your ass in Uno,” the younger Carpenter knowingly instigated.

“Oh, excuse me? I’ll have you know I’m the reigning champ in my family—don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” you instigated back.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright,” your gaze stayed on Tara for a moment before switching back to Anika, “I’ll join you.”

—

“Tara is totally looking at my cards!” Chad shouted while shoving his cards to his chest like an elderly woman clutching her pearls.

“I am not! You’re the one who keeps leaning on my side!” Tara whined back with just as much passion, if not more.

“Okay—no one looks at anyone's cards!” Anika cut in. “Alright, babe, it’s your turn.”

Mindy wore a devious smirk, slowly picking a card from her deck for dramatic effect.

“Boom, suck on that!” Everyone leaned in to look at the plus four Mindy slammed down on the pile of cards. Chad instantly groaned, immediately feeling a sense of regret for wasting his last plus four. He sulked while taking four more cards.

Now it was your turn. Tara was right after you, you had the chance to make her life a living hell. All you had to do was place the three plus four from your deck and you would double Tara’s deck in size and be one more card away from Uno.

You made a decision.

“Plus four,” you gloated regarding the single plus four you placed down.

“Damn it!” Tara made sure to glare at you while she picked up her four cards. “Just wait, you’ll see. I’m going to make my comeback.”

“Whatever you say,” you said in a doubtful tone. As Tara silently cursed to herself while flipping through her deck in frustration, you couldn’t help but stare fondly at the girl. She always had a competitiveness to her that you couldn’t help but respect. It was kind of cute.

After another seven minutes, it came down to just two people; you and Tara. You sat from across each other, debating your next play while one taunted the other.

“You know you’re going down, right?”

Tara laughed at your words. “You have at least ten cards, I just have two more turns and I’ll be following through with wiping the floor with your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You said, unintentionally with a come hither voice. You leaned in, your voice lowering but the tone still the same as you spoke to her. “You keep that energy, Carpenter.”

Tara's face suddenly grew warm, her stomach enveloping with butterflies as your voice crashed against her ears. You leaned back against the couch, looking at your own cards as it was Tara’s turn now.

Shit, you were in her head now. You totally did that on purpose, you had to. And what a dick you were for that, you knew what you were doing—again, you had to be aware of your actions. You must know the stupid feeling you give her, the way her stomach flips, how her legs turn to jello when you call for her. No. Focus. Come on, Tara. Lock in. Wipe the floor.

She cleared her throat, blinking down at her cards while processing them. It took a moment for it to click before she tapped back into her competitiveness and slammed down a card. “Uno! Plus four—suck on that!” Now she had just one card remaining in her hand, just one more turn and she would be victorious.

You smiled at her, your head tilted a bit as your eyes lit at the sign of her celebrating. She calmed herself down, feigning a calm demeanor. “Alright, it's your turn.”

You sighed. Well it was fun while it lasted, you enjoyed playing with Tara. It was entertaining. It’s nice playing with someone who can handle your competitiveness. “Uno, uno out,” you said while putting down your entire deck. You sat in your spot, looking at Tara with a shit-eating smirk with your hands folded together as Tara sat there dumbfounded.

“That’s—what, no, wait,” she furrowed her eyebrows as she rummaged through the cards you just placed. They were all green sevens. All of them. “How’d you—”

“Chin up, honey,” you teased, winking at her

“Oh you’re a real piece of work.” She shot up from her seat as she rushed over to a nearby closet. Your eyes followed her movements as you raised your eyebrows at her sudden actions.

“You two finally finished?” Mindy asked but was ignored by the other girl. “What are you doing with that—can you like stop ignoring me?” Tara returned with a box of Jenga in her hand and the others trailing behind her.

“I’m too tired to play Jenga,” Chad said.

“Good thing you’re not.” She now looked to address you, “You, me, Jenga—now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” was all you said as she immediately began setting everything up.

“What’s this about?” Anika asked you.

“Oh, I beat her ass in Uno—graciously so—and she’s being petty about it,” you shrugged.

“I am not being petty, I am unsatisfied. Seriously—how do you win with all green sevens?! Ugh, never mind that. We’re playing this and I’m going to hold out on my promise.”

“Of wiping the floor with my ass?”

“Exactly.”

“Woman of her word,” you say while getting comfortable in your spot.

Mindy, Anika, and Chad watched from the sidelines as you and Tara went at it in Jenga. There were many, many close calls, and few times where the other nearly flipped a table. You both tried to get into the other’s head while the other was sliding out their pieces, but so far no mistakes. But the tower was growing wobbly, it was getting late, and it was only a matter of time before that tower fell over. Now, it was simply a matter of who would make it come to that.

It was Tara’s turn, and there were not many places left for her to take from so she was forced to resort to an incredibly risky spot. You took this as another opportunity to mess with her. “Hey, Tar?”

“Kind of busy here,” she said—the block just halfway out.

“Will you marry me?” You casually inquired.

Tara’s eyes widened and her eyebrows jumped in surprise. Her hand immediately faltered, dropping her piece as the tower came crashing down. Her mouth opened and closed, her stare averting back and forth from you and the fallen tower; she didn't even know where to begin.

The others just remained on the sidelines, completely entertained by what was unfolding in front of them.

“Is that… a no?” Your eyes were almost pleading as you continued to taunt the girl, your millionth smirk that night threatened to show itself.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tara responded as she squeezed her eyes shut, still processing what just happened.

“Not before the honeymoon,” you quipped. Chad, Mindy, and Anika could now be heard laughing, no longer able to hold it in.

“You can’t just—” She shut her mouth out of frustration, settling for narrowing her eyes at you.

“I can’t just what, sweetie? Come on, use your words.” Oh, this was fun.

Suddenly you got a pillow to the face which only made it funnier, to you at least. “You owe me a rematch, cheater!”

“Excuse me, I didn’t cheat. You messed up on your own devices,” you said while patting down the pillow and putting it to the side.

“You know what you did,” she said with bitterness laced in her voice.

“I don’t, so how about you tell me? Tell me how exactly my words affected you; you know, so I can prevent myself from accidentally cheating next time.” You never broke eye contact with Tara; you enjoyed how much she was squirming thanks to you, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much.

“Next time?”

“You wanna rematch, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.” This whole interaction had Tara blushing; she needed to leave, like right now. “How about I get back to you in 5-7 business days? Sounds good? Cool. Well, it’s late and Chad’s my ride so we should probably head home, right Chad?” Her words were rushed which made you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change.

“Hm? Oh sure, I’ll just get my keys and stuff and we can go,” Chad said before going to get his belongings.

“So, I’ll see you around—buddy,” she awkwardly punched your arm in a playful manner.

“Um, yeah, buddy. See you around,” you chuckled at her awkwardness.

“I’m still expecting an answer though!” You called out as she made her way to the front door.

“5-7 business days!” She repeated back to you.

“I’m holding you to that!”

-----------

A/N: well that escalated, gosh, keep it in your pants R! 😦

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga

#let the light in au #tara carpenter #tara x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter x fem!reader #scream x you #scream x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #scream fanfic

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gorgeouslypink · 4 months

Note

hey pink! I'm so happy, I've finally reached the void state and manifested and it's all thanks to you and @thedoona.

before I get into it, I was able to get into the void state for a few seconds prior to my success so that really boosted my confidence and faith.

my method:

i decided upon the lucid dreaming method. it just seemed the best way. but first i needed to learn to lucid dream. the void community loves fild and ssild but if i tried to do fild or something it would never work so i had to do other things.

#1: reality checks every hour

#2: go to sleep affirming i will get a lucid dream and enter the void

#3: wake up in the 4.5 hours afterwards, rmbr my dream and type it out on my phone notes, then stay up for a bit and then go back to sleep repeating the same affirmation

during the day, I did a meditation a day. I read that maintaining awareness in meditation helps you become aware in your dream and tbh I'm not the best meditator but I put it on my to do list everyday to meditate and I chose a video and would try it.

also I listened to subliminals, I used that apold subconcious file from your challenge and listened to these 3 subs for 30 minutes:

https://youtu.be/HMmycC8BRfk?si=AC29Y8uKna0qkaO4

https://youtu.be/uGLHAp1dDx4?si=K_2gcln0vZ4cSA1X

https://youtu.be/O7rhQq3YGME?si=b-yjxX8sm7FDbWVH

And this sub for 1-2 hour:

https://youtu.be/OlHUujYD9wI?si=6KK8jsyeQ_0H9_t6

i did this since Jan 27th and last night, not only did I get lucid dream but also I first just affirmed a bunch of stuff like I am going to enter the void, the void is easy, I am guaranteed to enter the void because I heard sometimes when people close their eyes during lucid dream they end up waking up so I was scared that happen to me so I affirmed for a bit and then I closed.my eyes and began meditating and almost instantly like in maybe 10 to 20 seconds I was in the void. I knew it because it was expansive and still and then I just affirmed for my void list to.come true and when I awoke this morning, I had everything.

I knew from the second I woke up because I have pretty bad body acne and I manifested all of that away. I manifested df and db and it feels so weird rn but ik I'll get used to it. I also manifested good grades, good friends, etc

I really wanted to thank you and thedoona and I'm so excited to go be living my dream life now!! Bye bye pink I will always remember and treasure you ❤️

Sorry for late response and congratulations love!! Have fun living your dream life, you deserve it! 💖

#void state #void success

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pucked-bunnie · 1 month

Text

made for this⎜j.marino

pairings: john marino x reader prompts: "I'm proud to be seen with you." + "Can you zip up my dress for me?" genre: fluff ⎜friends - to - lovers ⎜ warnings: insecure reader ⎜mentions of weight gain ⎜chubby reader ⎜comments about weight ⎜reader gets bullied ⎜fake wags (didn't want to make anyone a villian so I made them up) ⎜p.s. sorry Pittsburg word count: 4.3 k note: this started off to be a short prompt request and ended up being a little longer - all events in this are fictional and the timeline is not accurate - I also went down a john marino rabbit hole and found out some interesting things - like did you know he has a twin brother?? anyway i hope you enjoy!

PRESENT - EARLY 2024

“John?” You call into the empty hallway, fiddling with the zipper on the back of your dress, just slightly out of reach. “John?” You call again, hearing quick footsteps up the hallway as he wanders in the bedroom taking a quick glance over your outfit.

“I think we should go to casino night, every night.” He lets out a low whistle, as you turn your back to him with an eye roll motioning to the zip on the back of your dress. “Can you zip up my dress for me?” You ask pulling your hair out of the way as his nimble finger make quick work of the tiny metal zip.

“Do you think this is enough?” You ask quietly as John smooths the back of your dress, his hands sitting on your waist as he glances at you in the mirror. He watches as your hands fiddle with the skirt of the dress, the light blue satin stopping mid calf, the tight corset top sinching in your waist, it was the same dress you had worn four years earlier at an event when John had started in Pittsburg - the dress had been hidden in the back of your closet since. “The girls in the group chat said that it’s a more casual black tie, but the casino event in Pittsburg was always said to be casual and people dressed like it was the met gala.” John smiles as he loops his arms around your waist, continuing - patiently - to watch as you adjust your accessories and hair.

“The girls in the group chat would be correct.” John noted, watching as you frown at yourself in the mirror. “You’re overthinking it.” He warns, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before dropping his chin to your shoulder. “Besides, Jack messaged earlier and asked if sneakers are black tie.” John smiles as you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the younger players' antics.

“What if people don’t like me?” Your question is barely audible - and John frowns, your hands going back to fiddling with the dress. “I just don’t want a repeat of Pittsburg.” John’s frown deepens again remembering the first event he had convinced you to go to after being signed to the penguins.

“It won’t be like that - everyone here is super nice.” He reassures, pressing kisses against the skin of your shoulder, his soft curls ticking the side of your face.

“I just can’t help but think about what they said sometimes.”

“Well try harder - what a bunch of middle aged entitled women say means nothing” You hands reach for Johns as he moves to pull away from you, your grip keeping his arms latched around your middle. “I think you look amazing.” John says softly, his fingers weaving with yours as he squeezes your hands.

“I’ll always be proud of you and who you’ve become.” He adds for good measure and you let out a high pitched whine, dabbing at your eyes quickly as you glare at him.

“I appreciate the sentiment but right now is not the time to make me cry - it’ll ruin my makeup.” John just chuckles, pressing one more kiss into your hair before letting you go, the two of you grabbing the last of your stuff before leaving the apartment.

This would be the first time you would meet John’s teammates and their families - after a rough experience at John’s old team you were hesitant to meet his new one until he could reassure you that they were all wonderful - two years is how long it took to convince you to finally come to an event, managing to get one of the players girlfriends to add you to the WAG group chat so you felt a little more at ease knowing a few people.

It was around a twenty minute drive to the venue, the New Jersey Devils renting out a large hotel ballroom and setting it up for a casino night charity event - the event would be more formal unlike their normal sweep the deck events but was supposed to still feel genuine and homely. John had picked one of his favourite suits - the checkered navy blue suit one of your favourites too - his hair was swept away from his face though his curly were unruly and a few fell out of position to sit against his forehead.

“I’m really glad you’re coming tonight.” He said softly as he pulled the car into the valet spot - slipping out of the driver's side to hand them the keys, before rushing around to help you out of the car, guiding you to the front steps as the valet handed him the return ticket.

You both thank the worker before slowly ascending the steps into the venue - gentle music streaming into the lobby. “Luke is so excited to meet you.” John adds, his hand on the small of your back as he steps towards the ball room, smiling kindly at the host who opens the door for him.

The girls in the group chat were right.

Though the event was definitely still formal, no one was dressed above and beyond, most people seemed to prefer something a little more comfortable. You smile down at your dress choice, satisfied with the sky blue satin, John's hand rubbing soft circles on your back as he waves his hand above the crowd.

It’s hard to miss the six foot two defense man who awkwardly shoves his way through the crowd towards the two of you - his own curly hair rivaling John’s as he stops in front of the two of you, a crooked grin on his face. “I’m Luke” He says quickly, reaching out his hand for yours, the motion a reminder of the first time you met John - you smile up at him, placing your hand in his as he gives it a quick shake, saying your name quickly.

“I need your honest opinion.” Luke says quickly - you wait for his question taking in his checkered suit a small chuckle bubbling in your throat as you realise how similar it is to Johns. “Curtis said my hair’s too fluffy.” The younger man says, his finger instinctively running through the curls. “Is it really that bad?” Luke finally asks - John barks out a laugh, coughing a little as you ram your elbow into his side.

“It looks fine, Luke - I’m sure Curtis is just messing with you.” You reassure the player, your words seemingly taking a weight off him as his shoulder relaxes a little more.

“John’s told me a lot about you.” Luke says as he glances over to his teammate with a cheeky smile, “He said that you were head over heels for him from the first time you met.” Your mouth falls open as you flick a glare over to your boyfriend.

“Oh did he now?” You watch as John begins mouthing some angry words to Luke, slicing his hand at his neck as you turn away from him, “Let me tell you how we actually met.”

PAST - LATE 2017

You first meet John in college - the two of you wide eyed freshmen walking into your bio-chem class with clear anxiety.

You had taken a seat towards the front of the class, hoping it would deter people from sitting too close to you - spreading out your textbooks and laptop over the surface as fellow students continued to pass by your desk.

You didn’t even notice him approaching until he stopped beside you, waiting for your attention to turn towards him and away from your computer screen.

“Do you mind if I sit there?” He asked softly, pointing at the seat beside you, a nervous grin on your face as you nod quickly in response - clearing your books off the chair beside you.

You couldn’t quite get a grasp for who he was from a first glance - the boy was obviously built like an athlete, tall and lanky but maintaining a lean and muscular build - but the textbooks he swipes from his bag, already donned with notes and highlighter markings are telling a different story.

“My name’s John.” He said quietly as the teacher entered the room, lifting his hand between the two of you in a friendly gesture. You take hold of his hand giving it a gentle shake as you tell him your own name, watching as he mouths the word a few times with a determined nod.

Your first class passes by quickly - which to be fair could be because you spent the whole lesson watching John in the seat next to you - his eyes glued on the projector screen at the front of the class, his hand diligently taking notes.

“Hey, do you want to go grab a drink at the cafe down the street sometime? We could compare notes?” John asks as he begins to pack up his stuff, the teacher dismissing the class earlier than scheduled.

“Umm…” You stall, shoving your completely empty notebook into your bag, looking around as if an excuse would appear into thin air.

“Sorry, it was stupid of me to ask.” He says quickly, a tight smile on his mouth as he throws his bag over one shoulder, “You’ve probably got a hundred other people to meet up with.” He says with a soft chuckle, his hand raising to rub at the back of his neck.

“I don’t.” You say quickly, frowning at your mouth's betrayal. “Maybe we could meet after the next

lesson? I still have a few more induction classes this afternoon.”

John nods quickly, yanking a pen out of the side of his backpack, rolling up his blue flannel shirt offering both the pen and his bare skin towards you. You stare at him in confusion as he glances between you and his arm.

“Your phone number?” He asks quickly - a snorted chuckle escaping you as you pull your phone from your back pocket, opening the device and handing it to him.

“How about you just put yours in my phone and we save your skin from the sharpie?” You suggest, John quickly tucking the pen away, the tips of his ears a flaming red as he takes your phone from your hands.

“Yeah, that’s a better idea.” He mumbles handing the phone back to you once he’s typed his number in, his contact name ripping another chuckle from you.

John - the guy from biochem

You knew straight away that this boy was going to weasel his way into your life quicker then anyone else had before.

PAST - MID 2019

The year after you had met John passed by quickly - the two of you spending any limited free time you had together. John had quickly introduced you to the world of hockey three weeks after you met when he invited you to come to one of his games, a single student ticket in his hand as he waited for you to take it.

And after forty two hours of researching hockey obsessively you had shown up to the game in the classic crimson and white school colours watching number 12 race around the ice with his teammates.

You were quick to discover a love for Johns favourite sport - the game fast paced and easier to follow than you expected and John was quick to invite you to every home game in the near future - a ticket to the game slipped into your notebook after every biochem class the two of you had together - but still John never asked the question that sat in the back of your mind.

It was mid summer break after the 2018 - 2019 semester when a phone call had changed everything.

‘John - the guy from biochem is calling’

“Is now a good time to talk?” He had said when you answered the call, and you had quickly excused yourself from the family barbecue to move to a quieter area of the house.

“What’s up?” You say softly but you can feel your heart racing in your chest. A silence falls over the two of you as John lets out a long sigh, “John, what going on? You’re scaring me.”

“I got an offer.”

“You what?”

“I got an offer for a contract with Pittsburgh.” You can almost hear the way your heart shatters at his words - he was leaving?

“John that’s amazing.” You say softly, slowly taking a seat on your mothers couch, you thumb lifting to your mouth as you naw on the skin besides your nail, “I mean this is your dream, this is what you’ve been working for.” You add quickly, a small bubble of genuine excitement bubbling beneath your broken heart.

“I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

“What? You can’t not take it John, this is your shot.” You frown as you press your phone harder against your ear.

“Yeah I know, but what about—” He pauses.

“What about what, John? This is the NHL we’re talking about here, not some home town rec league” He lets out a long groan, the sound seeming far away, his phone probably pulled away from his face.

“I’m not good at this stuff.” He admits quietly, his phone pressed back to his ear, and you wait - patiently - like you always do for him to continue. “I want you to come with me.” The words are not something you expected to hear today or any day for that matter.

“What the fuck?” You didn’t mean to say the words, they just sort of slipped out.

Having a close friendship and borderline flirtation with John for almost two years you expected him to ask you sooner to be his girlfriend - to make things official - but he never had and you were to chicken to ask him the question - so you had decided for the two of you that maybe friendship was all you needed.

Clearly you might’ve been wrong.

“What are you talking about? I don’t think I’m following.”

“I called you today because I want you to come with me to Pittsburg” he pauses for a moment before correcting himself, “I mean I wanted to ask you if you’d come to Pittsburg with me.” John explains and your hand drops back to your side, your mouth falling open as you sputter to find a response.

“I already looked into it and there is a school for nursing at the university of Pittsburgh and they except transfers and with the the offer they’re giving me I’ll be able to cover all our expenses, you wouldn’t have to worry about finding a job if you didn’t want to or you could wait till you settle in if you wanted some extra money to put in savings” You still can’t find anything to say, listening to John rambling, his voice getting softer and softer as he speaks, “Anyway, what I’m trying to say that if I can’t have you with me then I don’t want it.”

“John, I don’t know what to say.” Is all you can manage, not knowing which of your emotions to latch onto.

Anger that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

Sad that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

Angry again that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

And mainly happy that he’s achieving his dreams and he doesn’t want to leave you behind.

“We never really talked about this before.” You say honestly, your head lifting as your mum walks into the living room, her eyes questioning as tears well on your waterline. “John, this is really out of the blue.”

“I know, I know and that’s my fault - I was going to tell you how I felt before summer break but I just couldn’t shake the idea that you didn’t feel the same and I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” Your mum takes a seat next to you on the couch, a supportive hand on your back rubbing in circles as a few tears drop from your eyes.

“Have I upset you?” His voice is questioning, a small quiver at the end of the question and your tears fall a little harder.

“No, no.” You reassure, lifting a hand to wipe at your face, “It’s just a lot to take in right now, I just need to think for a minute.”

“Okay, that’s okay.” He begins a shaky breath escaping him as he adds, “I can wait for you - no matter how long it takes.” You mum is patting your back as you wipe furiously at your face. The phone call ends, and you turn to your mother, a soft smile on your face as she tucks your hair behind your ears.

“John got an offer in Pittsburg.” You say a bitter smile on your face, your eyes shining with tears. You mother just waits for you to continue, “He wants me to go with him.” You explain, taking in a long breath and letting out a short shaking one, “And I think I want to go.” Your mothers smile brightens as she pulls you in for a hug, reassuring you that everything would be fine, that it can all be figured out in time.

PAST - EARLY 2020

“John, I don't know about this.” You say as you fiddle with the straps of the light blue dress - John stood behind you tugging on the zipper, cursing under his breath as the zipper catches again. “Maybe I just shouldn’t go.”

You want to cry.

The move to Pittsburgh had been more stressful than you were anticipating - Nursing School was kicking your ass with late hours on placement and early morning classes and you hadn’t been eating very well, the freshman 15 hitting you about three years too late.

“I want you to come - and you’ll finally get to meet everyone.” John had said excitedly finally getting the zipper on the dress up with a triumphant grin. “You look stunning.” He whispers as he turns you to face him, pushing your fringe away from your face.

“You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.” You joke, poking him in the ribs as you glance over at the clock. The ride to the venue was longer than either of you anticipated - John glancing over at you every now and then as he drives, one hand tangled with yours as he presses soft kisses to your knuckles.

“If you hate it we can leave.” He finally mumbles as the car pulls up to the hotel - the bottom floor casino rented out entirely for this event. The two of you slide out of the car and make your way past the valet and into the event.

You weren’t sure how this was supposed to work for a charity event - everyone was dressed above and beyond, your simple satin dress making you feel naked as you looked over all the sparkling gowns and black and white tuxedos. “I thought they said this was a cocktail event.” You hiss as the two of you enter smiling at the people who greet you.

“I thought it was.” John says obviously as confused as you were.

“Oh, Johnny, we never thought you’d make it.” A higher pitched voice says from the crowd, the two of you glancing around until you spot the long legged blonde making their way towards you.

“That’s Hannah, one of the wives.” He clarifies, and you nod, putting a bright smile on your face as she stops in front of the two of you. She leans forwards placing two soft kisses on John’s cheeks before turning towards you.

“I see you brought a friend.”

“Um, this is my girlfriend, she moved here with me after I signed.” John says quickly, his hand placed on your back as you offer your hand in greeting. Hannah glances at you, her eyes raking over you before she just nods with a tight smile.

“Well it’s not quite the look we’re going for but it’ll do.” She said dismissively, your eyebrows raise in surprise as you lean closer to John.

“Did she just call me an ‘it’?” John's brows furrow as he takes in the older woman, his nose wrinkling as she flags down a waiter. “John, don’t.” You say as you notice his mouth open to say something.

“I’m sorry, but what you just said was extremely rude.” The words are out of John’s mouth before you can slap your hand over his lips to keep them closed, “And my girlfriend isn’t an ‘it’ she’s a human being and deserves respect.” Hannah snaps her gaze away from the waiter back towards the two of your, a glare centred on you.

“I mean no offence, but the wives and girlfriends pride themselves on keeping a level of class when dressing for events - we hold ourselves to a certain level of maintenance.” She pauses for a moment, “The dress is doing you no favours, my dear. No matter, It’s an easy fix, I’ll send you the number of a great weight loss dietician that I know..” She waves off John’s shocked expression taking a sip from the champagne flute handed to her.

“What do you mean by that?” John’s in too deep now, taking a step in front of you, his body covering you as he stares down his teammate's wife.

“You know what I don’t want to know - she’s beautiful the way she is and neither of us want you to ‘fix’ anything.” You watch as the woman turns a light shade of pink, clearly not prepared for John’s fight.

“Johnny, I’m just saying that us partners should be taking care of ourselves - we want our men to be proud to stand next to us.” The comment is the straw that breaks the camel's back, your hands slipping away from the back of John’s suit, your arms crossing over your chest, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

John’s speechless at Hannah’s words, his eyes flaming with anger as his teammate steps up besides his wife, “Keep your asshole of a wife away from my girlfriend.” John spits, the man looking at the defence man in shock before turning to his wife with a pointed look.

You don’t wait any longer to see what is said as you turn and exit the hotel, John quick on your heels as he follows you out.

“Where are you going?” He asks, his long legs carrying him much faster than you can move in your thin heels.

“Anywhere but here.” You respond, letting out a sigh as John grabs hold of your arm tugging you to a stop. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.” You add, biting down on your lip as it begins to quiver.

“Don’t listen to that crazy old bat.” John soothes, his hand sliding down your arm to grab hold of your hand, his other cupping it as he brings it to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses on your skin.

“But maybe she’s right, John. I mean it’s clear I’ve gained weight, and I’m either at school or work and we barely even get to spend time together anymore - maybe I’m just not made to be a hockey wife.” Your words are strained as you fight back your insecurities, “You deserve so much more.”

“No.” John shakes his head at your words, his hand cupping yours tightly. “I don’t want anyone else.” He sighs as you open your mouth to speak, shaking his head again.

“You moved all the way here for me and you changed the entire course of your education for me.” John begins, “You work ten hours a day for free to achieve your dream plus you study on top of all that, and you still manage to support me in everything I’m doing.” You let out a shaky sob, one of John’s hands releasing your to wipe at your tears.

“If anything - you deserve so much more.” John continues, his breathing heavy as his own tears start to gather, “Baby, I am so proud to be seen with you - and I told you, if I can’t have you with me, then I don’t want it.” Your tears are falling freely now, John following close behind as he pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around you as you bury your head in his chest, his hands soothing against your back.

“I’m ready to go now.” You grumble against John’s now wet dress shirt, a soft chuckle escaping him as he pulls his valet ticket from his pocket.

PRESENT - EARLY 2024

“Pittsburg wasn’t the greatest - but it helped John grow as a player and we’re both so excited to be here now.” You say to Luke, his eyes soft as he reaches out, the lanky man wrapping you in a hug. You shoot a glance over at John who tries to stifle a laugh behind his hand.

“I’m glad you’re here too.” Luke says, “I just know everyone here is gonna love you.” He quietly adds finally releasing you as he nods at John, “Man if someone talked to my girlfriend like that I’d lose it.”

“Tell me about it.” John agrees, taking a sip of the drink he had wandered off the get when you first started telling Luke your story.

“Have you met any of the WAGs yet?” Luke asks, turning back to you, your head shaking quickly in response.

“We’ve texted but I haven’t met anyone in person.”

“Perfect.” Luke says as he takes hold of your hand, setting it gently against his elbow before surveying the crowd. “Ooh, there’s Reanee.” Luke drags you away from your boyfriend quickly, giving you a run down on each WAG before he introduces you to them.

In total it takes Luke almost an hour and a half to track down every wife and player - introducing you personally, John following the two of you around smiling until his cheeks hurt at each warm welcome you receive. Managing to convince Luke to release you for twenty minutes for a drink and bathroom break, John pulls you towards the bar leaning down to whisper softly in your ear.

“Seems like you are made to be a hockey wife.”

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #nhl fic #john marino #john marino fanfic #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #prompt #prompt request

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months

Text

After Class » Sebastian Stan (AU)

Pairings: College Professor!Sebastian Stan x College Student!Female Reader

Summary: Sebastian tells Y/N he wants to see her after class.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, age gap (reader is in her early 20s), dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, f receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, sir kink, spanking, name calling (slut), use of pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Sebastian watched as you walked in his classroom. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were wearing a skirt and a plain black crop top. It’s like you were teasing him on purpose. He took a deep breath before starting class. You stared at him the whole time, biting the tip of your pen. He occasionally glanced at you to see you staring at him with a look of seduction in your eyes. His eyes took a quick glance under your desk, seeing your legs spread and flashing him your panties. You bit your lower lip before sitting up properly and crossed your leg over the other. You leaned your arms on your desk, making your cleavage look good. Now he knows you’re teasing him. The bell rang, snapping him out of his dirty thoughts.

“Make sure to study chapter 7 for next week’s test.” Sebastian says as everyone shuffles out of the room.

Sebastian seen you walking towards the door and stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N?” Sebastian says.

“Yes, Professor?” You asked, turning around to face him.

“See me in my office in a few minutes.” He says.

“Will do, sir.” You say, giving him a smile before leaving the room.

Sebastian sighs and ran his fingers through his hair before gathering his stuff and went to his office. You knocked on office door a few minutes later.

“Come in!” Sebastian says.

You walked inside of his office to see Sebastian at his desk and grading papers.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” You say, sounding innocent as can be.

“Yes. Close and lock the door please.” He says.

You did as he said and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, putting your backpack on the floor next to the chair.

“Do you know why I asked you to come to my office?” He asks.

You glanced down, noticing that a few buttons on his button up shirt was unbuttoned and his tie was off.

“I asked you a question. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Sebastian says sternly.

“No, sir. I don’t know why you asked me to come to your office.” You say.

Sebastian chuckles before standing up and walked around his desk to where you were and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. You couldn’t help but stare at his arms. The way his biceps were bulging in the sleeves of his shirt, like it was going to rip any second.

“You were teasing me today and you know it.” He says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor.” You say innocent and playing dumb.

“I think you exactly know what I’m talking about.” He says.

Sebastian chuckles before pushing himself off of his desk. He leaned over you and put his hands on the arms of the chair, trapping you in the chair and caging you between his strong arms. His face was inches away from yours. Your breathing quickened.

“You exactly know what I’m talking about, sweetheart.” He almost whispers. “You dressed like a little slut just to get my attention, didn’t you? Well guess what, honey… you have it now.” He says.

“Professor Stan, I- that wasn’t my intention.” You say, lying through your teeth.

“Don’t try lying your way out of this. You’re going to get punished like the little slut you are.” He says.

You shouldn’t be this turned on by being called a slut, but the way he says it makes it sound so hot and you were all for it. Sebastian stood up straight and took a couple steps back.

“Bend over my desk.” He orders.

You did as you were told, standing up and bent over his desk. Sebastian approached you and stood behind you. He bunched your skirt up above your hips, exposing your wet panties to him.

“Just as I thought…” His fingers rubbed your pussy through your wet panties momentarily. “You’re wet like a slut.” He says.

Sebastian hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs, shoving the wet fabric into his pocket.

“You address me as sir and you better count the spanks I give you, understand?” Sebastian says, his hands giving your ass cheeks a squeeze.

“I understand, sir.” You say submissively.

“Good girl.” He praises, giving your ass cheeks another squeeze.

His hands rubbed your ass cheeks before raising one of his hands, landing a harsh smack on your ass causing you to whimper at the sting.

“I don’t hear counting.” He says.

“One…” You counted, whimpering when he landed a second spank on your ass. “Two…” You say, more in a moan.

Eight spanks later your ass was red as a cherry. Sebastian rubbed his hands against your stinging skin to soothe it.

“You took your punishment very well, but I’m not done with you yet.” He says.

Sebastian helped you stand up straight and he kissed you hungrily. He grasped the back of your thighs and picked you up, placing you on top of his desk. His hands found their way the underneath your crop top, squeezing your breasts over your bra. His lips moved down to your neck, marking you up. His hands left your breasts to spread your legs further apart so he could stand in between them. You moaned softly when you felt his bulge rub against your bare pussy. One of this hands moved to your inner thigh, slowly moving towards your pussy. His fingers rubbed in between your folds, blindly finding clit and rubbed it in slow circles. You whined, wanting more. That earned you a smack on your thigh, making you yelp.

“Quit your whining.” Sebastian warns.

His fingers continued to rub your clit in slow circles. He then slid his fingers to your tight entrance, circling it before sliding two fingers in your pussy. A soft moan fell from your lips. His fingers moved at a decent pace while his thumb continued to rub your clit.

“I have to say…” Sebastian starts. “I love seeing you like this.” He admits. “You must be going crazy to feel my cock inside of you, huh?” He says, curling his fingers and hitting your sweet spot.

“Yes!” You gasped, voluntarily spreading your legs wider. “I want to feel it inside of me so fucking bad.” You moaned, tilting your head back.

“Be a good girl and take the rest of your punishment and I’ll fuck you.” He says.

“Please!” You begged, not even sure what you’re begging for. “Faster!” You tell him.

Sebastian moved his fingers faster while rubbing his thumb against your clit, occasionally curling his fingers against your sweet spot. Your chest rose and fell as moans left your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back, your lips parted and moans leaving them. You tried your best not to be loud. The more he curled his fingers into your sweet spot made your orgasm build up quickly.

“Professor, sir…” You whimpered. “I’m gonna cum.” You tell him.

Just then, he took his fingers out of you, making you whimper.

“The only place you’re cumming is on my cock.” Sebastian says.

You watched as he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. You licked your lips at the sight of his bulge in his boxers. That’s when you got a confidence boost. You took off your crop top and dropped it on the floor. Your hands disappeared behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest and exposing your breasts to your hot professor.

“You gonna show me some skin, professor?” You asked seductively, biting your lower lip.

You watched as Sebastian unbuttoned his button up shirt, opening it up to show you what you’ve wanted to see since the first day you walked in his classroom. You couldn’t help but reach your hands out and rub them against his toned abdomen. You pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“You think you can let up on my punishment a little bit, sir?” You asked innocently while rubbing your hands against his muscles.

The innocence in your voice almost made him cum in his boxers.

“Nice try, sweetheart.” Sebastian says, making you pout.

He pulled down his pants and boxers just enough for his hard cock to spring out. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of it. All you wanted to do was suck him off.

“My eyes are up here, honey.” He says, snapping his fingers.

Sebastian pulled you towards the edge of the desk, your legs spread wider voluntary. You gasped when he rubbed his cock between your folds. He lined it at your tight entrance, sliding it in your pussy inch by inch.

“Oh, professor…” You moaned, feeling every inch of his cock.

Sebastian grab the back of your head, pulling your head forward and gave you a sloppy kiss. His tongue slipped past your parted lips, exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Fuck me, professor.” You begged.

Without hesitation, Sebastian started thrusting at a decent pace which gradually got faster. Your jaw dropped, breathy moans left your lips. One of Sebastian’s hands found its way to one of your breasts, his thumb rubbed over your nipple before pinching it. A gasp left your lips and you arched your back, pushing your chest against his hand.

“You like that, don’t you?” Sebastian smirks. “You like your professor fucking you little pussy?” He asks.

“Yes!” You gasped. “So much!” You moaned.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you, locking your ankles behind his back.

“Oh yes!” You moaned when his cock hit your sweet spot. “Right there, sir!” You moaned again.

His cock hit your sweet spot perfectly. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. The smell of sex and skin slapping filled his office. The way his cock felt inside of you and the way his hands felt on your body made you feel like you were in a different world.

“Fuck…” He moans, loving the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock.

Pleasure took over your body. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back for a moment before looking down at where the two of you are connected, watching as his cock disappeared inside of your pussy and covered in your wetness. Your nails found their way to his strong shoulders, your nails digging in his skin, marking him up with red scratch marks.

“You’re mine now.” He practically growls. “Got it?” He says.

“Yes!” You moaned. “I’m yours, sir!” You moaned again.

One of his hands found its way to your clit and rubbed it in fast circles, helping your orgasm build up even more. A knot tightened in your stomach.

“Oh fuck, professor!” You whimpered. “I’m going to cum! Please let me cum.” You begged. “I’m being a good girl for you.” You say more in a whimper.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Is all Sebastian said.

You tried your best to not moan too loud as you came. Sebastian wasn’t too far behind you. He came inside of you after a few more thrusts. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He kissed you hungrily before looking deep in your eyes, both of you panting. He pulled out of you and the two of you got redressed. He helped you off his desk and kissed you once more.

“Dress like this again, I won’t go be so gentle next time.” Sebastian says.

“Yes, professor.” You say.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sebastian stan #sebby stan #seb stan #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan au

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