#This really went straight from brain to keyboard
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The latest Chan-pter has got me barking and howling in bed, SO good!
I think you get every member spot on with my interpretation of how they’d be (get out of my brain! No don’t actually pls it’s a wonderful coincidence).
Just a little request if/when you have time/energy/desire to write something, members who would be most up for some kind of primal/creepy/kidnapping/chase and pursuit role plays?
(If you don’t want to answer this or don’t have the time dw at all! 🩷)
(This post talks a LOT about consensual non-consent! In detail!)
Chan-pter HAHAHAHA I’m so glad you liked it, thank you!!! 🥰🥰
Noooo I can’t leave your brain!! Where else will I source my characterization!!!!!
Wait wait wait wait this is so fun— Okay wait I should link to previous posts before I get too excited! In this post I mention that basically everyone is into primal play by nature of this universe; and in this post, on question 4 “Are there rituals or ceremonies connected to or associated with bonding?”, I talk about mating runs as a form of edgeplay — based on a traditional in-universe mating event, but effectively transformed into kind of a cnc-leaning chase/pursuit kink event in the modern day.
I don’t necessarily think everyone in RONverse ever would be down for a mating run level chase/pursuit scene (like from our NPC cast, Soohyun probably wouldn’t go for it). However, all of our boys would 😊 Double thumbs up from everyone for primal + chase/pursuit scenes!
But OOHHHH creepy scenes, kidnapping scenes, fearplay turned up to eleven — yes yes yes okay I am so into this, let me think (can you tell this ask is going straight from my noggin to my keyboard). I think for these we would need an overwhelming enthusiasm for relatively extreme fearplay, roleplay, AND edgeplay, which leads me to………. (….drum roll……….🥁🥁🥁)
Lino and Han! Three cheers for the perverts (complimentary) of the day!!! 🥳
(🛑We’re talking about relatively extreme kink below! If you don’t like consensual non-consent and other edgeplay, turn back now!! I mean it, for real!!! Seriously!!!!!!🛑)
Runner ups/guys who I think check most but not all of the boxes:
Hyunjin: less into extreme fearplay; really enthusiastic about the concept but there is a threshold of how genuinely scared you can seem before he gets sad, even if he's pretty sure you're still into it. Depends a lot on his mood that day. More likely to roleplay like, a vampire creeping into your window and ravishing you
Seungmin: has trouble committing to the roleplay element and also prone to pretty bad dom drop, so this kind of thing is a big commitment. Maybe easier with another dominating party?
I.N: scary good at it but he's mostly doing it for you; likes it, but doesn't have the blind, feral enthusiasm of minsung in this area
Some more thoughts on this topic; I’m doing more kidnapping for Lino and more creepy for Han 🫶
Lino (cnc, abduction play, car sex, bondage, playfighting, spitting):
For Lino I think a lot of it is the anticipation — it’s like an extension of teasing but more extreme? Like you talk about the fantasy, you outline what you like, you give a go ahead, and then you just… wait. And wait. And days pass, and you’re jumping at shadows and overthinking if you’re overly attached to the clothes you’re wearing and feeling your heartbeat speed every time someone drives by. And then you go home and Minho is just… normal. Coming home from work, eating dinner with you, teasing you when you stare, eyes curved, voice lilting — “Need something?” And maybe you start to think it isn’t actually going to happen any time soon; maybe he’s too busy, maybe there just isn’t the time. Maybe you start to relax. Maybe you stop jumping at shadows. Minho texts you one night asking you to check for a package; it isn’t outside the front door. He asks you to check the lobby; it isn’t there either. He asks you to check outside — and you go, unsuspecting if a little concerned, because your boyfriend never asks you to do stuff like this, not to go out alone and certainly not at night and certainly not in your pajamas. Not with how protective he is. There isn’t even a car to hear — you feel the hand first, wrapped tight around your upper arm, wrenching you background. Instinctively, you open your mouth to scream — only for the stranger’s other arm to wrap around your front, palm flat over your lips. “Screaming already?” a familiar voice asks, sweet and lilting and dangerous. “Save your voice, kitty. It won’t help you here.” And even as your heart tries to throw itself out of your chest and your knees go weak and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end — you all but collapse into Minho’s arms. You don’t actually want anyone to think he’s kidnapping you for real, so you wait to put up more of a fight until you’re in the car, protected by nighttime and tinted windows and the private parking garage. Then you do fight — viciously, kicking and elbowing as Minho laughs and ties you down. It kind of depends on the day if he gets you to a secondary location or not. You learn to make pretty good use of the car’s backseat, even though it pulls your shoulders painfully when he ties your wrists to the grab handles on the ceiling. When you snap your teeth, he just shoves his thumb between them with a slow hum. “If you thrash anymore, you might dislocate your shoulder,�� he says, eyes curving over his plain black face mask with a simple, sadistic joy. “Do you think I’ll stop just because you hurt yourself?” You bite — not hard enough to seriously injure, but hard enough to sting. Minho just laughs, prying your jaw apart and spitting in your mouth. You spit it right back, but like this — back to the door, arms stretched straight above you and legs pinned under his knees — it just lands on your chest, bare where he’d cut your t-shirt open down the center. Minho hums again, smearing your own spit across your heaving chest. “Keep fighting,” he says sweetly. “I’ll break you in.” You knee him in the ribs; he ties your legs open.
Han (cnc; stalking, date-rape, and infidelity roleplay; bondage, salirophilia):
Hannie likes an easier, less risky scene of a home invasion — chasing you through the house, or creeping into your bedroom, watching you shower through a crack in the door. But I also think he’d go for more elaborate things: pretending to have met you online, meeting up at a bar, going to a hotel with him. He’s funny and charming and a little nervous: looking at you a little too long, hands fidgeting, not quite able to touch you like you aren’t about to hook up. Maybe you take the lead and maybe you tease him; and you don’t think anything of it when he excuses himself to the bathroom the moment you get to the room, figuring he just needs a second to calm down. Then his phone lights up on the nightstand, and you swear his lockscreen is a photo of you. A candid photo. One you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. The bathroom door opens before you can make sense of it, and by the time you look back, the phone screen is dark. You think: maybe it was nothing. You think that would be crazy, assuming it was a photo of you; you couldn’t even see your face. Jisung didn’t even know your name until you met up tonight; there’s no way he could have gotten a photo of you. Maybe you look like his ex. Don’t be weird. Still, when he meanders back towards you, you’re a little on edge. Maybe he knows that, because things take a quick turn after that. It’s like a switch has been flipped: suddenly, Jisung is a whirlwind, kissing you into the bed, not stopping when you say, “Wait.” You don’t know where he got the handcuffs; you didn’t even realize he had them until your wrists are behind your back. Jisung wants you scared and messy: ripping your clothes, smearing your lipstick, shoving a ring gag into your mouth just to watch saliva drip down your chin. He wants you to fight and exhaust yourself and he moans when you start crying, mascara running down your cheeks. “Hey angel,” he mumbles in your ear, petting your hair like he isn’t shoving your face down into a pillow; and you can smell yourself on his breath from when he’d made you come on his tongue over and over. “You know, I was curious about something.” At this point, you’re too exhausted to move, lying prone on your front, barely able to do more than whine when he finally, finally positions himself at your entrance. There’s an edge in Jisung’s voice, sharp and electric. “You like to meet up with strangers for sex,” he says. “Does your boyfriend know?” Even if you weren’t gagged, there’s no time to respond. Said boyfriend has no sooner finished speaking than he’s thrusting inside you in one mean stroke.
#SORRY TO SPRING THIS ON YOUR ASK LOL I HOPE IT'S NOT TOO EXTREME!#This really went straight from brain to keyboard#Also I never know how freaky is the norm over here 🤷#Feel free to ignore it if it's not your cup of tea! I totally get it 🫶#ask#toolazytobegoth#not sfw#words#lmh#hjs
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MONSTER- SAM WINCHESTER
pairing: soulless! ghostface! bestfriend! sam x fem! reader
word count: 4.3k
summary: you had always had a massive crush on your best friend, sam. that crush never went away even when he had to leave- for some "family buisness". when halloween rolls around, you invite him to a halloween party- hoping theres a chance he could show up and you could finally get lucky- even with all the sudden disappearances happening around town...
warnings: HEAVY SMUT! like kinky smut. use of knife play, and mentions of ropes. sam being a massive dom, dumbification kink, p in v, heavy praise kink, booze and drugs consumed/ mentioned, mentions of killings- kidnapping, implied mask kink, dry humping, over-protetive sam, heavy size kink, swearing, flirtation etc... dark sam...
"uh-oh, there was a monster in my bed/ we french-kissed on a subway train/ he tore my clothes right off/ he ate my heart and then he ate my brain... uh-oh, uh-oh (i love that girl)/ (wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell)"- monster, lady gaga
note: this is my first supernatural fic, i really hope i did sam some justice:) i havent had the time to fully rewatch the show (its been a while, so im really sorry if this isnt entirely accurate)- this moreso focuses on just... sam being a kinky freak. cause cmon now. we know this is canon as fuck. enjoy reading!
You weren’t sure what to believe, in all honesty. Rumors spread through campus like wildfire, and you were caught just teetering on the lick of the flame.
Girls, disappearing from their homes.
Girls never making it to their dorms.
It had even gotten so extreme you heard of guys getting swept up like Thursday garbage day.
The whole ordeal made you uneasy. Vulnerable.
You constantly checked over your shoulder, even in the daylight.
No one was safe.
But in all honesty, you couldn’t help but scoff. It would never happen to you.
Nothing ever did.
You were pretty plain in that sense; nothing drastic had ever happened to you.
For the most part, your life was normal. You had normal friends, went to a normal university, and had normal parents. No boyfriend, but a normal crush on your friend Sam Winchester. Totally, completely normal.
Which is why, when you were invited to a totally normal Halloween party at one of the frats, you didn’t think anything of it. It was a Wednesday night, and you longed to slip into PJs and crawl into bed.
But here you were, attempting to “lock in” at the library (and had been failing miserably). You had a paper to write, but your mind was anywhere but on the laptop screen in front of you.
The cursor stared at you as it blinked, taunting you to write. You put your head in your hands, sighing. You also had totally normal stress about school.
Okay, it was extreme stress. But you were a straight-A, goodie two-shoes. You had an image to keep dusted and a reputation to uphold.
But the urge to push that to the side increased as your phone buzzed. You instinctively picked it up—your friend Megan texting you.
Megan: Hey baby. Halloween party at Jason’s on Saturday night. Bar hop and then we go in our bunny costumes?
You smirked. Now this, this was something you could get behind. All that could be heard was your thumbs flying across the keyboard in the dead quiet library.
Everyone had gone home early due to the unusual events that had been occurring. You weren’t bothered by it much.
You: Duh, bitch! Let’s party it up.
You stared at your messages longer than you should’ve, focusing on one name in particular. Sam.
You hadn’t heard from him in over a week. The two of you were best friends and had been since high school. You were pretty close with his older brother Dean too, although closer to Sam since he was your age.
That closeness almost increased when he had started to go to your university. The pair of you were inseparable until he had to leave.
You didn’t ask questions because you knew he wouldn’t be able to answer. Him and Dean were very selective about what parts of their lives they told. Family business wasn’t any of your business.
So you gave him a long hug and made him promise to keep in touch if he could.
That day felt like ages ago. It had been so long since you saw him.
Texting him wasn’t the same.
You: Any plans for Halloween, Sammy?
You put your phone down, not expecting an answer until a while later. The Winchesters took forever to respond, and you learned not to take it personally. Your phone buzzed, and your heart fluttered as you saw who it was from.
Sam: You know I don’t do Halloween. It’s stupid, and the costumes are lame. You: Well, I’m going as a sexy bunny.
You watched the text bubble appear, then disappear. Then reappear again.
Sam: Okay, that’s not lame. Send pictures, please. Asking for a friend.
You giggled, feeling your cheeks heat at his reply. Him and Dean were such flirts. You couldn’t help but like it, though, because of your crush on the younger Winchester.
You: Well, if you want, you can see it in person. If you’re in town this weekend, there’s a party on Saturday night ;) Sam: I’ll see what I can do, Bunny.
You sighed, shoving your phone back in your pocket. You needed to focus on work and get this paper done so you could enjoy yourself this weekend without the weight of school on your shoulders. You couldn’t enjoy yourself properly without it done.
So you pushed your head back into the books, fingers frantically flying across the keyboard to type anything your brain could come up with.
But the entire time, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.
Not once, but twice.
--------------------------------------------------------- The shot burned as you tossed it back, licks of fire seeping into your belly as you grimaced. You were more of a vodka girl then a tequila, but you’d take what was given to you.
You set the little glass down with a thud on your vanity, taking a deep breath as you stared at yourself in the mirror, soft lights dimly lighting up your reflection.
You looked good.
You weren't one to be overly confident, but you had to admit to yourself, you’d grab attention. The sleek, black corset hugged and accentuated your curves, boobs popping and teasing as they strained against the fabric.
You placed the black bunny ears on your head, adjusting your hair so it curled around your shoulders just right. You very tipsly pursed your lips in the mirror, a hand on your hip as you winked at yourself.
If this doesn't get Sam's attention, you don't know what will.
The thought of him made you giddy, butterflies swarming in your chest at the mere idea there was a chance he and maybe even Dean would be there tonight. You very much doubted it, and did not blame them if they couldn't arrive.
They were busy. You doubted they would even be near town, let alone in it.
But a girl could hope and dream.
You made sure to do a signature, sexy makeup look you knew Sam liked (you caught him staring at your lips a little too long a few times), in case he arrived.
“You coming?” Megan yelled from her bedroom, and you scrambled to grab your phone and hike on your heeled boots.
“Yeah one second!”
You posed, snapping a quick mirror picture in case you needed photo evidence in your costume to send to him later.
You were nervous. Taking another deep breath, you shut your eyes, and begged those shots to give your lightweight ass some drunk corrage to get laid tonight.
It had been too long. Above and beyond your goal if it was one man in particular.
------------------------------------------- You were no longer nervous.
Instead, you had turned into Kat Stratford, shaking your hips and dancing like no one was watching on top of the kitchen table in some random frat house.
The red lights danced across the skin, and you tilted your head back, letting sweat trickle down your neck as you swayed to 2010s Lady Gaga thumping from the speakers loud enough to shake the picture frames on the walls. Your friends had all gathered around you, even some fellow straggler guys who wanted to get a quick peek as you had your drunken fun, red solo cup sloshing around.
A sudden voice broke you from your trance.
“Y/N what do you think you’re doing?” a sassy, low voice drawled from the ground, and your eyes widened. Sam's mischievous, teasing look made your heart flutter as he looked at you, barely having to look up- already being taller than the average human.
Much, much bigger than you- that was for sure.
“S-Sam?” you smiled, stumbling over to try and get off the table, tripping in the process. You let out a squeal as you fell right into his large arms, holding you as if you weighed nothing.
He chuckled as you stumbled to the ground, wasting no time as you wrapped your arms around him- clearly drunk.
“Imisseedyousomuch-” you slurred, giggling as you clung to his torso rocking back and forth with excitement.
“I can't believe you made it! How have you been? Oh my gosh, I have so much to tell you. And wait- woah are you wearing a costume?”
You rambled on, his bright eyes and soft smirk never leaving his lips as you tripped over your words. He pulled a mask from behind his back, as if he were revealing a magic trick to a toddler, waving the Ghostface mask in front of you.
”The one and only.” he winked.
“Who are you and what did you do with Sammy? I thought you didn't do Halloween?”
“Changed my mind this year, thought I’d make it special.” he smiled, subtly placing a hand on your waist, guiding you over to a quieter area so you could talk- his eyes never leaving yours.
He was entranced with you. The way you spoke, the way you moved, the way you looked.
God the way you looked.
And you were so dizzy from the booze, and from the excitement of seeing him you didn't even notice. You didn't notice the little shifts in his demeanour either, the way his smirk was as sly as a cheshire cats.
“It is special. You look hot.” you giggled, embarrassment thrown out the window. You didn't even care anymore.
What did you have to lose? You never saw him anyway- as sad as it was to say, it was reality.
He leaned against the wall, his large frame seeming to cast a shadow over you, shielding you from anyone else. He bit his lip, looking you up and down, gaze lingering on every curve.
“Hot indeed.”
You smiled, doing a little twirl, letting him admire you. “Whada think Sammy?” you asked innocently, knowing his thoughts were anything but. He whistled.
“Pretty lil bunny. You’re so gorgeous, ya know that?”
Your cheeks heated at his words. He was forward and blunt tonight- you thought. Not that you minded, it was just a little out of character for him. Flirty, yes, but this forward? It must have been the alcohol.
“You’re not too bad yourself. But seriously, were you actually in town? I didn't want you to make a separate trip for me.” you hit his shoulder lightly. You could feel the muscle from under the black baggy sweater he wore.
Jesus he had bulked since you saw him last. How long had it really been?
“What and missed seeing my bunny? Never in a million years. Dean and I were just poking around, and I wanted to say hello.”
“Deans here too?” Your eyes flickered around the room, vision slightly fuzzy as you whipped around slowly to look for him, Sam's hand slipping up to cup your chin, thumb gripping your skin so you stared into his eyes.
“Yeah, but you know him. Probably fucking some college chick- who knows. I'm sure you'll see him around tonight.” he smiled softly. You nodded dumbly as if you were under some hypnotic trance.
“Yeah, yeah you're right. Hey- did you wanna head outside so we can talk? It’s loudddd in here.” you giggled. You and Sam typically used to do this at parties, both of you finding them exhausting and boring after the first two hours or so.
You often talked about random shit, whether it be deep and personal (mainly to you) or something silly while smoking weed and sprawling across him. It was just what he wanted it seemed, eager beyond belief to get you outside, all alone.
You guided him through the swarm of people, many staring you down as if you were fresh meat. You felt Sam's grip tighten as you made your way to the back door, waving at Megan and group of girls you had met earlier tonight.
The chill breeze sent goosebumps rising up and down your bare arms, past your little cufflinks. You shivered under the moonlight, letting the wind blow your hair back, tickling Sam's chest as he shut the door tight behind him, as if he wanted to keep people out.
Or you out. You couldn't tell.
“S’colder than I thought.” you hiccuped, slowly making your way over to the wooden porch steps, out of sight from the windows as you knelt down slowly to keep yourself from falling flat on your ass with a smack.
“What, you didn't drink enough to wear your alcohol jacket?” he teased, taking two long strides over to you, plopping down beside you.
“S’so did. But I’m just hyper aware of it n all, like my tits are screaming at me for letting them out on tonight of all nights.”
You couldn't stop talking. God what was wrong with you. You smacked your forehead, making Sam chuckle, running a hand through his hair.
“I can run back to the Impala and grab my jacket for you if you’d like.”
“What, your lumberman jacket? And mess up my outfit? You just want to look better than me, is that it Sammy? To woo the girls?”
His eyebrow perked. “You're the only girl I wanna woo.”
You nudged his side, insides practically screaming at you. Were you just really drunk, or was Sam Winchester- the man you had a crush on for years, legitimentluy flirting with you?
“Dont be silly.”
“I'm not being silly, I’m being truthful.”
You pursed your lips, turning your head to stre at him, instead of the acres of forest that stretched in the backyard. The wind caused the bare tree branches to rattle, hissing through the night. Not even the sound of animal stirred.
The night seemed dead and stale.
Sam was much prettier to look at instead.
“Needy. When the last time you got laid Winchester?”
He snorted, pinching your bare arm. “Ouch!” you shriked.
“Don't be mean.”
“I'm not being mean, I’m asking you truthfully. Cause I havent gotten some in forever, and it's getting old quick.” you sighed, resting an elbow on your knee, leaning your chin in your hand to support your weight.
You felt giddy and nervous as Sam slid his large hand over to carasse your thigh, fingers tickling the flesh as he allowed them to trail patterns on you.
“Yeah? Poor girl.” he cooed, pinching your skin again quickly. You wet your lips, batting your innocent, doe eyes at him as he let his hand inch towards your inner, inner thigh.
“Yeah its… rough out here.”
“No contenders? What a shame.” You giggled. “I only want one contender. Im not sure if he wants me back.” you drunkenly hicuped, his stare turning liquid, full of desire as he hungerly eyed you up and down,your eyes, your lips, your breasts.
“You think I havent noticed the way you look at me?”
You froze.
“You think I havent noticed you, for ages? Do you know how stupid it was of me, of him to let this go to waste?”
He chuckled lowly to himself. “Oh no, no no baby. It's adorable, your little crush.” he smirked, pinching your cheeks, as if you were his little doll. You felt your jaw go slack at his words.
“W-wait, so you want- I mean you like me? Too?” you asked meekly, chewing on on the inside of your cheek.
“Like you? Oh baby I’m obsessed with you. You precious little thing.”
You giggled, nudging his beefy shoulder with your own, leaning against him. “Really?” you stared up at him with stars in your eyes, feeling like a kid in a candy store.
Were you actually getting what you wanted? The thing you truly had wanted, for what seemed like eons now?
Two goals were getting checked tonight. Fuck. Yeah.
“Really.” he purred, sliding his hand down so it was practically cupping your aching and soaked heat. Your breath shuttered. “This okay?” he asked softly, and you nearly tore off your outfit right then and there.
You were about to see what Sam was like in the bedroom. Or- the outside. Wherever that may be.
You nodded, hiccuping and practically melting into him as he cupped you, making you purr like a kitten.
“G-gonna break that dry spell Winchester?” you smiled, head lolling against his fingers stroking your cunt through the flimsy fabric. “Ha. I still know a thing or too.” he purred.
“So responsive…” he murmured as you bucked your hips.
You weren't sure if it was the weed, or the shots, or the wind against your soaked cunt but you were flustered beyond belief. Before you could even process what had happened, you were flung over his shoulder, bouncing as he ran over to the security of the hidden, tucked away woods.
You squealed, clinging onto his shoulder for dear life as you watched the world become out of reach from a much higher view point. He smacked your ass and you jolted before setting you down in the woods, the crunch of leaves under your feet as you wobbled.
There was just enough moonlight you could see the boyish, michelvious glean in his eyes as he backed you against a tree, the rough bark making you shiver under his gaze as he caged you in.
“Now no one can hear you scream for me.” he smirked, cockily. You were so flustered you didn't even know where to begin. You moaned as he grabbed your ass, lifting you up to his height, lips crashing against yours with such hunger you thought he would eat you whole, a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Teeth and tongue clashed as you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands, your bunny ears long forgotten in the mess of the woods. You let your hands run across his body, feeling the hard muscle through the black fabric, before you felt something unusual.
Something sharp.
Your heart skipped a beat as his lips left swollen ones, lipgloss stained across his own, a line of spit still connecting them. He kissed your neck, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as you turned to putty.
A knife was pulled from behind his back and you shivered as he stared at you cooly, letting the blade glitter in the moonlight. You swallowed dryly.
“Is- is that real?” you asked softly. He nodded. You felt your panties dampen even more.
Fuck. So he was a freak.
He waited, as if he wanted to see how’d you react. If you’d spit in his face and call him sick and demented. But instead you wrapped your hand around his own, guiding the blade against your neck, letting it fall back- giving him further access.
His eyes widened in admiration, then amusement at your silent request.
“Oh you dirty, dirty girl. You like this shit, yeah? You like when I take control like this?”
He curved the blade, and you felt it trail down to the tops of your exposed breasts.
“I could carve something right here, y’know baby? And you're such a dumb dolly, so in love with me that you'd let me.”
You drunkenly nodded, attempting to buck and grind your hips against him. He stilled, titling the blade, as if he were to pierce it through your heart.
You felt the sting, the little drop of blood it caused.
“But I’d never hurt you baby. You’re too precious.” he hummed, eyes so dark they seemed to flicker black.
The knife dropped to the ground, his lips marking your breasts as you squirmed, grinding against him. You found his belt buckle, the cool metal deciduous against your throbbing cunt- hands struggling to unbuckle it.
“We’ll need the ropes for you next time. You're pathetic. You know that?” he gripped your chin, smooshing your cheeks. You felt tears start to well in your eyes from the pure need that was in your system, so desperate to escape you. It hurt.
“Please. Please Sammy, please-” you whimpered, making him laugh, planting a kiss to the top of your forehead.
You slid from his grip like liquid into a puddle as he unbuckled his jeans, and your mouth watered at the sight.
He was huge.
You knew he would be, but you underestimated just how huge.
All your fantasies could never compare with this. With him, and his body.
“See something you like?” he asked smugly, tugging the drapey dark fabric over his head, tossed in the brush somewhere.
Your eyes nearly fell out of their head at his V line, happy trail leading right to where you needed him most.
“Wanna suck your cock.” you mumbled bashfully, unapologetic of the free rein of your speech right now. You were past the point of shame, or embarrassment.
“What was that angel?” he smiled, hand grabbing your chin again as your knees threatened to wobble, and give out from underneath you.
Jesus he was intense. Whatever it was tonight, it was amplified.
“Wanna suck your cock please Sammy.” you begged. He cooed down at you, face pouting in faux pity.
“Awh silly baby. As much as I’d love to have you down on your knees, I have other plans for us tonight, yeah?”
You nodded dumbly as he took over, fingers sliding your bodysuit and thong to the side, running a finger through your soaked folds. He hummed, content.
“Such a soaked baby. You've been this wet for me all night?”
“Y-yeah Sammy was hoping you’d come tonight to fuck me.” you confessed.
“That so?”
“Mhmm” you nodded.
You moaned, feeling yourself buckle, hand reaching out to grip his forearm as he toyed with the bundle of nerves, making slow, steady circles at your clit.
“S-sam-”
“Hush baby. Up we go now, there we go.” He picked you back up again, freeing himself from his boxers as he angled himself right where you wanted him. Where you needed him.
“You’re gonna shut up and take my cock now, like a pretty lil slut?”
“Please-”
The feeling was euphoric. He wasted no time, sliding into you with ease, your juices coating him. The two of you moaned pornagraphically, as he inched his way further, stretching you.
He was so big you felt him in your tummy, filling you up. Swallowing you whole.
“Thereee we go, atta girl. You’re so fuckin tight bunny fuck-” he growled, forehead leaning against yours, breathing heavly. As if he was trying to control himself.
“Sam- Sam g-god-” was all you could sputter as your nails dug into his biceps as he bottomed out.
“I can- can’t” you moaned, fluttering your eyes closed. He slowly slid out, thrusting bak in deeply. You groaned.
“Hey, eyes on me.” he commanded, gripping your chin. “You can take it baby, you’re doing so good. Taking my cock like a good lil girl yeah? Arent you sweetheart?”
His dirty talk had your brain completely shut off, the wires crackling, then sputtering out. It was as if your programming had suddenly flatlined, and all you could think was Sam. Sam sam sam sam.
“So vocal. Wished I fucked you sooner baby, best pussy I’ve ever had. Y’know that? Youre all dumb for me, brain dead.” he chuckled, watching drool trickle from the side of your mouth as you screamed his name, panting.
He watched your tits bounce, with that little spot of dried up blood as he thrusted into you, harder and harder, faster and faster until you thought you were a ragdoll about to be torn in half.
“M’gonna cum-” you squealed, and he nodded, as if to grant you permission. You milked him dry, screaming so loud your voice went hoarse.
Sam continued to ride you through it, hips never faltering. “There we go baby, did that feel good? M’ all up in your tummy, and I'm gonna fill you up, kay?” he cooed, forcing your attention back on him, on his heavy gaze and despite eyes.
“K-kay Sammy please-”
He smiled, kissing you as you moaned into his mouth, hot, white liquid coating your insides as he finished inside you. You could barely catch your breath as he kissed your forehead, and each cheek tenderly.
“Fuck bunny. You were so good. So, so good.” he sighed, hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your cheek, plastered with sweat. You nodded softly, murmuring unintelligible words as he set you back down, holding your body as you tried to find your balance.
Your legs were shaking like a quivering newborn fawn as you gripped the side of the tree, letting your eyes drift close for no more than a second.
You could no longer feel a presence supporting your back. Sam was gone.
Out of sight, under the moonlight, as if he had disappeared into the trees without a trace.
Your head started to spin, and you felt the weight of the night slowly starting to crash down on you. “S-sam?”
“I’m so sorry it had to be this way angel.” was all you heard from behind you, before a force nicked your head so hard, the world went dark.
---------------------------------------------------------------
“She asleep?” a voice called, sounding like it was eons away.
Your eyes refused to open, and you felt something tied around your ankles and wrists, as you lay on your back. Two sets of eyes were on your dishevelled frame.
You didn't dare to open your eyes until they looked away, facing to the front of the vehicle. You felt two plastic masks placed where your feet lay.
Oh god. Oh fuck. You wanted to puke.
“Knocked right out. A sleeping beauty.” another called. Sam.
“Poor bunny.” a voice chuckled, whistling a tune as he turned down the volume dial, as if he was worried to wake you. Dean.
You quickly shut your eyes again, urging yourself to keep your breathing shallow and natural as Sam looked back at your resting frame, a sympathetic frown on his face.
“Night night bunny, sweet dreams.” he cooed, before you blacked out again, in the backseat of the Impala.
#sam winchester smut#sam winchester fic#sam winchester fanfiction#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#soulless sam#jared padalecki#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you#dark fic#ghostface#supernatural fandom#jared paladecki#supernatural smut#supernatural sam winchester
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Hii! Can you do a pic where the reader is doing higher studies, maybe like a PhD, and is far away from home and hasn't seen pedri in a long time. So when pedri gets a break, he comes and surprises her. Maybe before that the reader's roommate teases them and send pedri how the reader is always looking at pedri's pictures and tiktoks. I've been looking for something like this :) it would be so great if you can write something like this pleaseee 🥹🙏 Thank you in advance!! 💙
↬❥ Longing



Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader
a/n: I'm sorry if it's bad or too long. I'm not confident about this imagine :(
REQUESTED
warnings: no.
And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!
The university library was practically his second home. The pages of his article were open on his laptop, but his mind was wandering elsewhere. His cell phone, resting next to the keyboard, still showed the latest notification from Instagram: a new photo of Pedri, smiling after training.
You sighed. The last time you saw each other had been months ago, and video calls no longer seemed like enough.
“There you go again…” your roommate Sofia’s drawling voice sounded behind you. “If you keep this up, you’ll end up printing one of those pictures out and sticking it on the wall.”
You rolled your eyes, unable to help but smile.
“Stop exaggerating.”
Sofia arched her eyebrow and pulled out her cell phone.
“Exaggeration? Look at this! You literally have a favorites folder of just his TikTok videos.”
Before I could stop her, she had already taken a screenshot and sent it.
For Pedri.
His heart raced.
“Sofi!” you tried to grab the phone, but she backed away, laughing.
“Relax, he’ll think it’s cute. And honestly? It was just the push he needed.”
You spent the rest of the day restless, waiting for some kind of answer. But nothing came.
The next few days passed slowly, and Pedri still hadn’t mentioned anything about Sofia’s message. Maybe he was too busy. Maybe he thought it was strange.
That Friday night, exhausted, you arrived at your apartment and threw your backpack on the couch. Sofia wasn't home, which meant a quiet night. You went straight to your bedroom, already thinking about getting under the covers, but then...
The doorbell rang.
Frowning, you walked to the door. You weren't expecting anyone.
When he opened it, his heart stopped.
Pedri was there, standing in the hallway, wearing a black sweatshirt and a crooked smile on his face.
"Surprise.!"
It took your brain a few seconds to process.
“What…? How…?”
Before you could formulate a coherent sentence, he dropped his backpack on the floor and pulled you into a tight hug. The warmth of his body, the familiar smell, everything made the accumulated longing disappear all at once.
“I had a few days off,” he murmured against her hair. “And after what your friend sent me, I thought it was time to see you.”
His face heated up.
“Oh my God… did you see that?”
He laughed, holding her face in his hands.
“I saw it. And to be honest, I liked it. But you know what I prefer?”
"What?"
He tilted his head, his lips brushing against hers.
“You, here, now.”
And then he kissed you, killing once and for all the longing you had been carrying.
You pulled Pedri inside before the neighbors started to notice. Closing the door with a quick movement, you still felt in shock.
“You’re really here.” His voice came out lower than he expected, as if he feared it was all a dream.
Pedri smiled, taking off his hoodie and throwing it on the couch before turning to you.
“Of course I am. I wouldn’t just watch you stalk me on TikTok and do nothing, would I?”
His face heated up.
“You didn’t need to remember that.”
He chuckled and pulled you by the waist, bringing you back into his arms.
“You have no idea how much I missed you.”
You sighed, relaxing into his touch.
"Me too."
He rested his forehead against yours, his dark eyes analyzing every detail of your face as if he wanted to record it all in his memory.
“How are you? With your doctorate, your research…?”
You shrugged.
“Tired. Stressed. A little lonely.”
Pedri frowned.
“You should have told me.”
You smiled weakly.
“I didn’t want to worry you. You already have a lot on your plate with training, games…”
He squeezed her waist.
“You know that doesn’t matter, right? If you’re feeling bad, I want to know. I want to be here, even if it’s just by phone.”
You nodded, biting your lip.
"I know."
Pedri sighed, as if he wanted to say something else, but he just pulled you closer again.
“It’s decided.” He spoke into her hair. “Now that I’m here, we’ll forget about any worries. Just you and me, okay?”
"Combined."
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, you both threw yourselves on the bed, covered in a comfortable silence. Pedri was lying on his side, watching you, tracing small circles on your arm with his fingers.
“You’re staring at me again,” you muttered.
He smiled, not looking away.
“It’s just that it’s been a while since I’ve seen you up close like this. I had forgotten how beautiful you are.”
His stomach churned.
“Stop saying things like that,” you grumbled, hiding your face against the pillow.
Pedri chuckled, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“You look cute when you try to run away.”
You huffed, but couldn’t resist when he grabbed your chin and tilted your head so your eyes met.
“You know, I was afraid that the distance would change things between us,” he confessed quietly.
His heart sank.
“Pedri…”
He looked away for a second before continuing.
“But I realized that no matter how much time passes, or how many miles there are between us, I will always come back to you.”
Your chest warmed, and you didn't think twice before pulling him into a slow kiss, as if you wanted to prove that he was right. That nothing between you had changed.
You woke up feeling the weight of an arm around your waist. Blinking to adjust to the dim morning light, you smiled when you saw Pedri still asleep beside you.
He looked calm, his features relaxed.
Carefully, you traced a finger along his jawline, down to his parted lips. He stirred slightly, but didn't wake up.
“I know you’re staring at me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep.
You held your breath.
Pedri opened one eye and smiled lazily.
“I knew it. You can’t stop admiring me.”
You rolled your eyes.
“You think it’s too much, huh?”
He chuckled, pulling you closer.
“I'm just telling the truth.”
You sighed, hiding your face against his chest.
“I wish you could stay longer.”
He was silent for a moment before kissing the top of her head.
“Me too. But we still have a few days… and I want to enjoy every second with you.”
Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @p4uul0vr @nngkay @meganesanchez @bymerinott
#barcelonafanfic#fc barcelona#universefcb#pedri gonzalez x you#pedri gonzalez x reader#pedri imagine#pedri x reader#pedri x wife!reader#pedri x y/n#pedri x you#football x y/n#football x oc#football x reader#football imagine#football
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One For The Money
Zayne x Non MC x Caleb
TW:
self-depreciation, smut, fake dating trope, emotional manipulation, HEA, named MC/OC to help the flow and characterization, smoking, cigarettes, substance abuse, alcohol consumption, alcohol abuse, neglect, MDNI
A/N:
This is a much shorter chapter than usual. But trust the process as I slowly come back from being so sick I slept for nearly a week straight.
Summary:
It was a mistake. Taking that deal was a dangerous mistake. But it was the perfect way to make Zayne finally notice me in all the ways that mattered most. I just didn't think I would be pulled into Caleb's gravity at the same time.
Word Count: 508
Finished || Ongoing
Chapter One-->Chapter Two-->Chapter Three-->Chapter Four
One For The Money - Chapter 5 - bhaalistbabe - 恋与深空 | Love and Deepspace (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
Caleb was sick.
Not physically, of course. Physically speaking, he was possibly the healthiest he’s ever been. Despite the machinery attached to the right side of his body where his arm used to be. No, Caleb was sick in the head. For as long as he knew he always had been. It started as just an innocent childhood crush. He told himself it was bound to happen one day. After everything they had been through together. No matter the fact that she didn’t remember a god-damned thing. Caleb did. And that was what mattered. She was safe and he–well, he would always be there to make sure it stayed that way.
But somewhere along the line. his innocent crush turned into something more perverted. Something twisted and perverse. Often catching himself watching the way her hips sway when she walks or the way her breasts bounce when she’s excited. Just the mental imagery was enough to make him need to adjust himself in his seat. This was not the time nor the place for such thoughts.
It started as an itch.
Just a notion really. But soon that turned into a gnawing need. Something more like an impulse than an afterthought. And before he knew it–Caleb tapped into her phone line.
“Puh-leaaaaase! You won’t regret it and Xavier seems to really like you! He asked for you to come!” There she was. Her voice ambrosia to his sick mind. The only kind of medicine he needed to quell the thoughts that swam in his diseased brain.
“I already have plans with Zayne.”
Caleb shifted in his chair.
Oh no.
No, no, no, no.
Why wasn’t it her voice that made his cock twitch this time? Not that sweet little lilt in her tone he knew all too well. It took Caleb a beat too long to place who the other voice belonged to. That harsh edge to their tone that only softened when his name left their tongue.
Iris.
“Even better! Zayne can come too!”
A pause.
“I’ll run it by him.”
“Perfect! I promise you won’t regret it! Pick you guys up at eight!”
The line went silent. And Caleb was more confused than he was before. His fingers moved faster on the keyboard than his mind was capable of keeping up with. Three of the screens in front of him came to life with the information he needed. A decision already made before he could process what was happening. One screen with the IP address for her phone while the other two held the text messages between Iris and Zayne.
I: I know how much u h8 change but… could I persuade u to go watch fireworks w McKenna and Ocean Eyes? Z: I’ll be there. No need to worry about change. I: she already got to u didn’t she Z: Intuitive as always.
Blinding rage ran through his veins. Pushing himself away from the desk and the screens, Caleb ran a hand down his face.
A war was raging inside of him.
‘Fireworks tonite?’
Sent.
#love and deepspace#lads#lads caleb#caleb lads#lnds caleb#love and deepspace caleb#xia yizhou#l&ds zayne#zayne love and deepspace#zayne lads#lads zayne#lnds zayne#li shen
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Babysitter - Geto Suguru
A/N: One of my lovely friends mentioned this idea in passing and I have NOT been able to stop thinking about it. So enjoy reading my brainrot lol. Definitely the start of a series hehe.
Content: geto suguru x female reader, dad!Geto, college student reader, non jujutsu au, angst, fluff.
Divider by: @k1ssyoursister
School be damned, the economy be damned. In fact, the entire world be damned. Making ends meet these days was becoming an achievement. And your little college student pockets hurt (more accurately, they were utterly and desperately empty).
You had applied for every open position you came across; on-campus, barista at your local cafes, server at that one sketchy bar and even dog walker but nothing seemed to last. Interviews went awry, creepy bosses drove you to the end of your wit and bad pay was routine. You sighed, beyond exasperated as you flopped onto your tiny twin bed.
Selling feet pics was starting to look a little too enticing of an option.
You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your email inbox, hoping to see something positive from any of the positions you had recently applied for.
**ding**
The pop-up of a notification draws your attention away from the endless emails --mostly unanswered-- and you open the text.
[girly I think I found you a job]
You immediately sit up, the words from Kugisaki leading fresh hope to bloom in your heart. Your fingers tap quickly across your keyboard.
[wait fr?? istg if you're playing with me]
[if you think i'm lying then i won't tell you what it is anymore]
[no, no come back] you send a string of crying emojis, imagining the smirk on her face before the typing bubbles reappear on your screen.
[since you asked so nicely! Babysitting job. A guest lecturer for one of my classes. Really chill dude]
You sighed, shoulders drooping as soon as your brain registered the message. You were about to turn your screen off when the bubble appeared again.
[I know you don't like babysitting jobs, but give this one a try okay? Plus the guy pays really well] attached was an email address, certainly that of the one looking to hire.
[Thank u, I really appreciate it <3] you typed back, flopping back onto your bed.
Your sighed again, and closed your eyes. It was so cold. Your town had been victim to a series of winter storms. Even nature seemed done with the world's shit. But the prospect of having to deal with another high electricity bill if you turned the heat any higher led you to your closet, grabbing one of your thicker hoodies instead.
You should be grateful. You muttered to yourself, heading to the bathroom and splashing water on your tired face. Financial aid covers tuition, and you are not homeless. You turned the faucet off, watching the heavy bags in your reflection. The person in the mirror looked so tired, life slowly drawn out of her. You should be grateful. The mantra had long lost its desired revitalizing effects but you kept at it regardless. Repeating it to yourself incessantly.
Somehow you managed to find leftover takeout in your tiny fridge, eating your dinner to the sound of your old radiator using the last of its life to barely warm the place. You sighed again, eyeing the email address your friend had sent you. She wouldn't recommend someone untrustworthy. She would never put you in harm's way.
Resigned, you drafted an email. The usual pleasantries, introduction and intent for the position. As soon as you clicked the send button, you pushed your phone away. It didn't matter. The person would probably ghost you anyway.
And then, you really would have to look into feet pic selling forums.
He had replied. In record time actually, only a few hours after you sent your email. Your eyes scanned over the words of the email again, in partial disbelief.
[Thank you for your interest. An interview with me and my girls is all I need to see if we would be a good fit. Please let me know your earliest availability]
Straight to the point and maybe a bit dry, but it was much better than most of what you had been getting. You chewed on your bottom lip, deep in thought.
Being in a strange man's house for extended periods of time was still unsettling.
You should be grateful for the opportunity. Are you really going to let your trauma get in the way. Stop acting so weak.
A reply was typed in before you could psych yourself out, sighing as you put your phone down. He better pay as well as Kugisaki promised. Well, you would find out soon anyway.
What kind of people were Geto Suguru and his daughters... And would this job finally allow you some respite? A hint of stability in these tumultuous times?
Trying to get myself out of a writing rut ughhh. I hope you enjoyed this one though, I'm really excited about starting another series. Let me know if you would like to be tagged!
Reblogs and comments are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)
#jjk#gingerteawrites#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu geto#geto suguru#geto x reader#nobara kugisaki#jjk fanfic
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take me down to the pesterlog city where jade’s text is green and john gets all petty
(page 1394-1406)
It’s pesterlog time!!!! In a 12 page spread (1391-1402) there are seven pesterlog pages representing five characters. I feel like I am a medieval peasant attending my first palace banquet. The rich offerings of character moments and variety of colors on display is blowing my gruel-fed brain.
The art also kicks ass this update! Tbh I am going to make a post about the art more generally as I’ve noticed some big changes recently (and some slow changes that are very apparent when jumping back) so for today I’ll just say: look at this super cool art of John exploring LOWAS on page 1395. He’s so clearly questing in a way that the sprite just can’t represent. I would get this framed for my wall.
I’m delighted to get a longer conversation with CG, who I’ve named Reggie. They’re actually fun and creative with their trolling techniques here, and knowing what they look like means I get to imagine this little grey kid grinding their fangs as they tap away on their keyboard furious at a comparatively sweet and clueless guy. They look like a goofy nerd whose bark is way worse than their bite.
‘IT WOULD MAKE ME SICK TO MY HUMAN STOMACH IF I HAD ONE OF YOUR HUMAN STOMACHS’ is VERY funny. Reggie feels similar to the Felt and Midnight Crew in being so over-the-top in their violence that it loops back around to being funny. And John’s reactions are good too – he’s not upset at the trolling like Jade is, he’s hilarious and willing to turn Reggie’s snark back on them. Their willingness to play off each other definitely increases the ‘enemies to lovers’ feeling of this Valentine’s Day conversation.
It is interesting that Rose accepted GA’s offer to be friends (p.1093), and now Reggie is telling John that they’re friends in the future (p.1394). So suddenly the trolls, who act and look textbook malicious at first, are trying to play nice. Are the trolls setting this up in order to double cross the kids in the future? Or are the trolls trying to incorporate the kids into their group and get them to follow some sort of dark trolling agenda? Or are they also just outcast alien kids who troll people because they’re lonely and want some attention? Hard to say when we have only heard from three of them.
There is something amazing about PM’s sword previously being used for vengeance (p.844, 870) and this time when she tries to do similar, she’s interrupted by WV who convinces her to use it to open cans and share food instead. WV may be from the dark kingdom but he feels like a peacemaker between the light and dark sides, refusing to fight against either PM or AR. I mean he is literally followed around by the light of serenity. And now he sits between PM and AR and shares his food and Tab and they all become friends, which honestly, is amazing mayoral work. Solving disputes in the town already. I really think he could build a town just like Spades Slick did.
This view of Dave’s city is cool too, I love the color of the sky! He straight up lies by saying ‘i always keep birds in here its sort of my thing’ (p.1400) and calling it sincere, considering his earlier bird-free room (p.312). He is on way too many layers of irony to decode (i.e. he just says whatever bullshit comes to mind that might be funny with no regard for whether it’s true or false). Which is soooo great for getting to know his character (also he should stop saying slurs).
However, I can see why Dave is annoyed by Rose here. Like he does kind of bring this all on himself by being so ironic all the time and talking about how ‘cool’ his brother apparently is, but, it’s gotta be hard when he’s been telling Rose about fighting his brother on the roof and she’s dismissing that he went through a lot to get the beta to save her, when Jade had it literally handed to her. Rose doesn’t know the details so I’m not mad at her, but it still can’t be easy for Dave to hear that dismissal from a friend.
I do feel like Rose and Jade have this alliance in seeing themselves as the two who know what’s going on, with the combined power of Jade’s visions and Rose’s perceived high intelligence. This whole update is very gender roles but this does evoke page 838, where Rose is far more aware of Jade’s powers and the type of information she has access to than John or Dave are.
Meanwhile in Dave and John land...
TG: i should probably text him soon TG: see whats up TG: because TG: i love him
Straight up adorable. Don’t even pretend to me that there’s a shred of irony in this. I love how close these guys are. This is sort of the first declaration of love in Homestuck unless you count John’s telling Liv Tyler on his Armageddon poster that he loves her (p.223).
We specifically don’t get to see Rose’s conversation with a troll (yet), but I think we can assume she’s talking to GA, probably the only troll she respects enough to prioritize over Dave. We also don’t see where in the Medium Rose is; John assumes that she’s also in the Land of Wind and Shade, but according to Rose, ‘It’s hard to say for certain. But I think I like it here.’ (p.1402). If the Medium has four planets in between the light and dark (p.703) (holy shit half the story ago) then it makes sense for the players to all start on different planets and have to find each other, so we could be getting ANOTHER super aesthetically cool land within the next few weeks. Or teased repeatedly until the end of the act, who knows.
The puppets (including a wizard puppet) clinging to the totem lathe on page 1403 is a very good gag. Also, ‘eggy loking thign’ (p.240) spotted here in the menu?? Implying a limited set of Sburb entry items?? Also 2,000 starting build grist for Jade to use compared to 20 for Rose, and a bunch more gizmos and gadgets available to deploy, including a disc with a piece of green grist (?) and two devices shaped like captchalogue/strife cards; a further tease of what’s to come.
Finally, I’m so glad Hussie agrees with me that there’s no fucking way Jade knows how to clean a house. Even if she has absorbed gender roles and sees cleaning as a woman’s activity (p.1405) she definitely was not taught to do that and designed some kind of robot to do it for her.
#homestuck#reaction#adiosToreador is definitely named Wayne#as for grimAuxiliatrix? definitely a Cool Name like Carson#chrono
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2024 Writing Challenge Wrap Up
This year I wanted to put out a piece of writing—either a complete piece or a chapter—every week. My main goal was to quit getting stuck in editing hell. This is what I learned:
Writing for output gets you faster but it really highlights your weaknesses as a writer. I found myself reusing a lot of genres, themes, characters, sentence structure, etc, as a crutch to make the process easier. The worst was when I would simply list everything that happened in a scene, like a micromanaging script writer—she did x, he did y, she did z—without taking the time to prune it to the story I wanted to tell. (Funny enough, a friend sent me this article today that perfectly highlights what I'm trying to describe here. This past year my consumption of visual media definitely increased). I'd finish a piece and the word count would seem impressive, but those words didn't actually say anything. Quantity was reducing my quality.
Compared to my earlier writing, I also slipped into using more obvious/dull similes and metaphors. Every character started to speak and act the same, and instead of writing endings, I found myself just writing characters who simply "won" the plot.
Writing short stories combatted almost all of the above. It forced me to remove parts that were hiring the story and remember that I rarely needed the text to describe everything. The dialogue, characters actions and values, my audience's own brains would fill in the gaps. I think people even enjoy a bit of vagueness, especially with jokes; explaining the punchline doesn't make it funny. Letting people have that moment of "aha!" is more effective.
Sometimes I overcorrected—I've read a few older pieces where I'm like, "wait what just happened," but at least I didn't find myself skipping parts of the story.
Applying the concepts of "but it went wrong" and "they would not say that" also helped the above. When I caught myself just writing a list of all the things my characters did to win the plot, I would combat that by either having them fail or fuck up or both. My stories were way more fun/interesting when I figured out the line a character would not cross and then made their victory beyond that line, so they either had to cross the line or avoid it entirely. Example: in The Gang Goes to the Underdark, Zarys will not leave the shipment, even if it means leaving part of her team behind and traveling a very dangerous route, so she goes to ridiculous lengths to deliver it, including capturing minotaurs and walking straight into a trap.
Refusing to have characters act out of character made for more interesting stories, I think. After all, there's a reason I like these characters. (Shout out to @graysparrowao3 whose toxic Aradin/Rugan fics encouraged me to let people be more awful, and to everyone who stans villains). Whenever I had to have a character break "they would not say that" I tried to figure out a good why. Why would this unempathetic character be nice to someone? Maybe because they really love them… or maybe because they think they can get something out of it.
Writing is time consuming. I joked a few times about how I need to step away from the keyboard, my family misses me, but I work full time, go to the gym, volunteer and aim for 7 hours of sleep a night…and then was writing 10+ hours a week. For my pieces, I tried to note down how long they took because I think people devalue free things, but every made thing has a cost.
I can write through (almost) anything. I originally thought I would fail at this goal. Technically I did—4 things I wrote were never posted (projects fell through), and I was without power/cell/internet/water for weeks after a hurricane and while I did write, posting wasn't on my agenda. I also was wildly burnt out/grieving after the hurricane and found myself mechanically getting pieces out there, using the challenge as a way to implement some normalcy. But I posted most weeks and wrote something for every single one. I learned how to barrel through writer's block and how to say "good enough" for a deadline.
Avoiding burnout is a proactive, not a reactive, activity. I fully planned to abandon this challenge if I thought it was ruining my relationship with writing. However, really prioritizing other parts of my life did a lot to protect my relationship with writing, especially prioritizing exercise and my family/friends. Towards the end of the year I started writing less and less, mostly to pick back up other hobbies (gaming especially).
I can write characters, ships, kinks and stories that I don't care about. I did several exchanges/challenges this year because coming up with so much to write is hard. These exchanges meant that I wrote a bunch of stuff where I started the fic not giving a single flying fuck about the characters. Three of a Four Course Meal is an example—I picked it up on a pinch hit mostly because "vampire dinner party" was too hilarious a prompt to let it not be written. I'm not into robots, most of the mages, or Cal/Geraldus (or most of the couples I write, sorry! Like 90% of them are from talking to people online and being like "I like this person, I want to make them something") but I wrote each with the mindset of "I don't need to be into this, I just need to figure out how to write it." I think this helps a lot with output and with pushing yourself to write better. The advice to kill your darlings is also a lot easier when the piece doesn't start out as darling.
Stats:
I debated not including this because all that ^^^ is the real victory, but fuck it, I want to link fics, haha.
I posted over 300,000 words in 2024 (I started to do the math to remove all the words in collab chapter fics I didn't write and gave up) across 48 fics and 105 chapters, which for me is a massive quantity. Every single fic was a rare pair. I cracked several new tags on AO3—I'm probably most infamous for Dammon/Strange Ox, but I also did others, like Vorgoth/Rook, Guex & Pandirna and a bunch of Salazon tags. I also contributed to so many Elturian Refugee and Zhent tags. I'm still a little confused how there are only 43 works with Alfira/Lakrissa, but 4 of them are mine and 3 of those have Alfira/Lakrissa as the main couple. I'm doing my part!
My most popular fic for hits was Wine, Iron and Other Damnables. This was also one of the first I posted, closest to the "height" of activity in the fandom. It was my longest at 44,047 words. I recently reread it and it's not as snappy as my stuff ended up in the end, but it does have a lot of fun plays on words I'd like to return to.
My most kudos'd fic was Where There's Smoke. It was posted pretty soon after Veilguard came out and got a shout out on tiktok, which quadrupled its kudos in 3 days. Really a testament to how much the "when" you post matters; it's pretty standard Ratt smut but so much more popular than my other stuff! The word count was 2,988, although you can pick your pronouns and stuff so the word count is actually higher.
My least popular fic for hits is The Curse of a Promise. It's a rair pair, is WLW, it's SFW—basically everything people say won't get hits haha. But it's my little fic (878 words) and I love it. Least popular for kudos is Popper's Bag of Popping at 700 words, which I was a little surprised by. Maybe it's an issue with the tone not matching the subject? Either way, I'm glad it's no longer one of my Wyll fics.
My shortest fic was Perception at 141 words, and I'm honestly very fond of it!
What's next?
I plan to keep writing, but definitely not at the same output. I would really like to return to some of the creativity and wordplay I had in my original stuff, and I can't do that and put out as much material. I also really want to prioritize longer pieces again.
I'll probably step back from exchanges. It was pretty disheartening to work hard on something for someone and have the receiver comment "can't wait to read it" and then nothing. Or, you know, get literally nothing, not even a kudos. It's kind of soured my feelings toward exchanges. However, shout out to @commander-krios and @lolliputian for running several solid collabs/exchanges and the Zhentil keep for their round robins.
I would like to do a bit more art this year. I know practice generally makes improvement, and seeing how much other artists like @littleplasticrat and @redroomroaving have improved has made me want to get back at it. I cannot do a piece a week, though, haha. Maybe one a month, we'll see. I haven't decided.
Overall, though, I would like to spend less time online. I miss my family, I miss DnD, gaming, reading and hiking. There were things I delayed last year to meet this goal that no longer exist. I'm tired. Happy I did this, but tired.
Additional thoughts that didn't really fit anywhere:
I never expected to make friends during the challenge but I did. I made a lot of friends, and they're all driven, creative, ridiculous, intelligent, hilarious, honest, silly and so valuable to me. I really missed making things with people. I'm just so grateful to everyone I met.
I'm also grateful to all the people who tagged me in their end of the year posts, thank you so much. You're all very lovely
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Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Not Particularly Relevant At All - A TMA teacher AU
Chapter 2: Regarding Things That Eat Away At Various Objects, Including You
read here on AO3. previous/next
Summary:
In which Jon and his students come to terms with the state of maintenance in the school, and Martin takes Tim's advice. The fallout of Tim's advice is also discussed.
CW: Maggots, homophobic slur (mentioned), animal death (mentioned).
11:05am, Monday
Jon hurried into the English department building clutching a stack of slightly ink-stained worksheets. He muttered a few expletives under his breath as he brisk-walked. The printer in the department office had conveniently decided to shit itself during his recess time printing efforts, and he'd had to walk all the way to the science and maths building to use theirs. No way in hell was he risking bumping into Martin Blackwood again by going to the library copier (even though it was the nice inkjet one that did three kinds of paper). Flushed and sweaty, he entered the classroom. Every student was already seated, save for a few who were standing by their friends' desks. A few heads turned and acknowledged him, but as soon as he tried to open his mouth a girl started shrieking.
"It was fucking disgusting! They fell on my laptop, and they were in my hair, and I had to empty out my entire pencil case to make sure none were in there!" The class erupted into simultaneous exclamations of disgust and amusement.
"Alright, alright. Class, can we- CLASS!"
The class fell silent in shock. Given his smaller stature, most people didn't expect Jon to have quite the set of pipes on him.
"Miss Garcia, are you alright? Did something happen during recess?" he inquired, attempting a more gentle tone.
"They had to quarantine her science classroom," one boy piped up. Jon felt a wave of revulsion wash over him. Angela Garcia nodded. "I was in Science, and I felt things dropping on me. At first, I thought it was water from the aircon, you know? Like the evaporative in there's always been really bad. And then," She was clearly beginning to enjoy the class-wide attention she was getting from her tale. "I reached up to touch my hair, like to see if there was a wet spot. And something moved."
Jon tried to cover his retch. "Dear lord, what was it?"
"I didn't know at first, but I freaked and a huge maggot landed in front of me, right on my keyboard! And it turned out I was being showered by maggots from the rafters!" The entire class was cringing in disgust, and loud pockets of chatter had sprung up in spots around the room.
"And then Miss Prentiss was weird about it after. She was helping me get them out of my hair with her bare hands! And instead of throwing them away, she kept going on about how fascinating detrivores were and put them in a jar on her desk."
Jon blinked a few times. "That's... abnormal."
"She likes bugs," another girl concurred. "She had silkworms to show us last year, and there was the wasp nest on the window outside at one point? She wouldn't stop staring at it."
Jon harrumphed. "Well, I don't believe I'm in any place to gossip about my colleagues. If you're feeling unwell at all, please feel free to head to the nurse, but otherwise..." He tapped the stack of sheets on the table sharply. "Themes! And a bit of essay structure."
The class paid him no attention, still gathered in a gaggle around Angela. He sighed and began distributing worksheets to empty desks. Theories were passed between students, the prevailing idea being that a pigeon or a rat had died in the ceiling cavity, and decayed. One of the boys made a loud joke about replacing the M in ‘maggots’ with an F.
“That’s not appropriate,” Jon called out aimlessly. A snarky “Sorry, sir.” was uttered, but the boy went straight back to ribbing his friends and sniggering. Jon’s already sour mood was fermenting even more, with the imagery of larvae squirming out of a slime-slick rat carcass and falling onto him burned into his brain. As he passed by each student he could imagine the sensation of their dry, squirming bodies wriggling around in his hair and down the back of his shirt. He'd known the old school was in bad shape, with ancient glass windows warping in their panes and dust-caked popcorn ceilings in the 60s-built buildings, but he hadn't expected maggots raining from the filthy crawlspaces. He spent the rest of the period glancing up at the cornices of the classroom, half-expecting patches of black mould to bloom or cockroaches to pour in.
1:10pm, Monday
The staff of Magnus Academy mingled around the lunch table, picking at cheap sugary morsels from a tray half covered in plastic wrap. Monthly staff teatime, courtesy of one of the school's oldest donor families. As he scanned the room, Jon recognised a few teachers from previous meetings and his time doing relief. The physics teachers, one with dead eyes and a scar streaking across his face, and the other (much older) man looking dapper with his bowtie and cane. He slapped his companion on the back, guffawing after telling a particularly bad pun. A lithe person stalking around the room that he vaguely remembered as a drama teacher. Her smile stretched too wide across her face, and she moved swiftly on dancer's legs. A blonde woman with close-cropped hair and a sports jacket glared as he passed. Jon drifted between little huddles of conversation, before locking eyes with a woman near the back of the room.
"How's everything going?" Jon asked her, leaning against the back wall of the shared staffroom. She nodded somewhat wearily in response.
"It's going."
She was tall, taller than most of the staff, often seen swishing about the halls in a brightly patterned maxi skirt and a matching headscarf. But now she slumped against the wall, leaning against the laminated posters. Her braids were beginning to fall out of her neat updo. Next to her, Jon pushed his little slices of iced cake around his paper plate.
"Been here long?"
"Three years. Coming up on four next January, really. You?"
"Just about two weeks."
She let out a short, mirthless cackle. "I take it you're the replacement for Miss Robinson?"
"Well, I try not to think of myself as a replacement, but... I guess that's all I am at the moment."
"Did you ever meet her? I assume you did relief for a while."
"Unfortunately not. You?"
"Oh yeah." The woman's voice dropped to a whisper. "She was a stone cold bitch." Jon couldn't hold in a surprised chuckle. "Maybe that explains why my kids are uncontrollable." He threw his hands up in mock celebration, "She's gone! We're free!" She grinned, which quickly morphed into a grimace. "God rest her soul, though. Christ, a robbery. Absolutely no way to go."
"Mm."
There was an awkward pause. Old lady deaths are a kind of moodkiller, thought Jon.
"Tim was telling me something about the new hire being a friend of his."
"Well, then that must make you Sasha!" He exclaimed, slightly more excitedly than he’d intended.
"The one and only." Sasha smiled a little more earnestly, tickled to hear that Tim talked about her with his friends.
“Jonathan Sims. Jon.” He held out his hand, and she shook it.
"Sasha James."
Her palms were warm, and he noticed her jasmine-scented perfume. A crackly bell-chime from the PA indicated the end of lunch.
"I've got to get something from the English office.” Jon intoned.
"Well hey, I've got PPA now. Mind if I tag along?"
"Sure. Do you want these? I don’t believe I hold a lot of respect for the, ah, culinary endeavours of Mr Kipling.”
She gratefully accepted the flimsy plate. “How dare you. He’s an artisan.”
The door to the English office clicked open, and Jon was hit with the familiar scent of old books mingled with a cookie-scented candle. "Nice digs!" Sasha proclaimed through a mouthful of French Fancy, taking in the sight of a billion coloured post-its and mugs decorated with cats. Jon nodded, striding over to his (noticeably emptier) desk. He hadn't any sentimental photos of previous classes to display, nor was he particularly drawn to cute stationery. He stopped dead in his tracks.
"What's wrong?"
On the desk sat a single yellow and slightly metallic oblong box. Jon approached it carefully, dreading a prank from his new colleagues. He’d heard that hazing in the teaching world wasn’t nearly as bad as in other professions, but he was still cautious of a glitter bomb or a gag gift with fake bugs in it.
“Jon, it’s just chocolate. Probably a late welcome.”
He shook his head. A post-it was stuck to the top. The same faded blue as the one on the box in his classroom that read MR SIMS E5.
Dear Mr Sims, I’d like to sincerly apologise for my conduct last week. It was inappropriate and I caused you a lot of inconvenience. Please accept my humble apology. - Martin K. Blackwood
Jon yelped and dropped the note, earning a quizzical look from Sasha. Had he seen what he thought was sitting on the note? With the tips of his fingers, he tentatively turned the paper over. It was just a drawing. Thank god. Martin Blackwood had, for some reason, drawn a tiny spider in black ink on the corner of the note, with a smiley in a speech bubble next to it. Jon had mistaken the cartoon for an actual baby spider, and still shivered imagining its skittering legs somehow peeling off the page and making its way up his hand. While he was preoccupied, Sasha snatched up the other post-it that he hadn’t noticed in his momentary panic.
“I’m going to need context here. Is this from an ex?” Sasha frowned in confusion.
"No, not an- it's- ugh!" He wrung his hands in frustration. "It's from the man in the library. He accidentally insulted me, and in the moment I was quite upset at him. Now he somehow feels the need to apologise with chocolates? He put a bloody spider on the note!“
“Eugh. Spiders are… not that I’m arachnophobic or anything, but… why would he draw a spider, of all things?”
“I don’t believe this is a genuine apology.” Jon huffed, placing the note on his desk.
“Hang on, Jon. There was another note,” she said, waving the paper cheekily. She cleared her throat.
“This is my sorry I hope you like the chocolate It is quite tasty.”
“Christ,” Jon muttered. “The man can’t spell, and on top of that, that is the worst haiku I’ve ever seen in my life.”
He gave the box a once-over without the sticky notes. 60% dark chocolate coated raisins and hazelnuts. He hummed in mild appreciation, recognising it as something he'd only buy as a treat when it went on offer in Tesco.
“It’s not that bad! He probably feels terrible about the whole thing, enough to write poetry about it,” Sasha giggled.
“I’d like an additional apology for the poetry. 'Chocolate' is three syllables!”
She shook her head. “You’re a cruel man. At least thank him for the chocolates!”
“I’ll email him.”
“In person, or I’ll tell Tim you said that The Office was overrated.”
Jon let out a quiet whine. “Do I have to?”
3:25, Monday
Jon skulked near the library entrance, debating whether or not to go in. Sasha had practically pushed him towards the building, her threat of instigating a Tim Lecture hanging over his head. Martin Blackwood was right in his assumption that he’d caused him a lot of inconvenience, Jon's head had been swimming with thoughts of bittersweet chocolate, spindly spiders’ legs and treacle-coloured curls. Jon frowned, pushing away that last thought. He must’ve found out that I’m arachnophobic. He's using it to try to get back at me. It's psychological warfare to gain the upper hand-
“Excuse me, are you going in?”
Jon flinched. He realised that he'd been blocking the door for some time, and a student looked at him expectantly. Grumbling an apology, he stepped into the library. Drifting between the stacks, he tried to stall for time. Young adult fiction. So interesting. The interestingest. Boy, I sure do love Percy Jackson.
"Enjoying the young adult section, huh?"
Jon whipped around to see the sweater-clad devil himself. Martin Blackwood wheeled a returns trolley up to Jon and hefted a sizeable stack of books under one arm, easily sliding them one by one into the shelf.
"Oh, I don't- I don't read stuff like that..." Jon trailed off.
The man laughed. "It's nothing to be ashamed of! A lot of them are really quite well written. By the way, I'm not really sure where this one would go, could you take a look?" Jon glanced at the spine of the offered book. 829.53.
"Anglo-Saxon lit. Just after the rest of English lit."
"Oh, thanks."
"Didn't expect to be doing your job for you," Jon chuckled slightly.
"It's- it's been a long day."
Jon took a deep breath. "I, uh, came to thank you. For the chocolate. It was... nice. Of you." So much for talking smack about his vocabulary. Can't even say anything other than 'nice'. Martin Blackwood smiled warmly.
"I'm glad you liked them! Did you see my note?"
Jon bristled a little. "I did see it."
"What did you think?"
Oh, he wants to play at that game. Alright.
"I can't say I'm a fan of poetry, especially haiku. It's a bit... puerile."
"Oh." His cheery face fell a bit. "Why would you say that?"
"It's formulaic, and a lot of it simply lacks inspiration."
"Since you're such a purveyor of fine literature," the librarian said bitterly, gesturing to the Percy Jackson books.
"Care to explain the drawing you did?" Jon pressed. His only objective became making the man squirm.
"What's wrong with it? Not artistic enough for you? Couldn't hang in the Louvre?" he spat.
"It's a spider. Why, did you think I'd like a spider?"
"What's wrong with spiders?" Martin Blackwood puffed up in anger, his voice becoming shriller as he grew more agitated.
"You know what, never mind. Thank you for your immense gratitude."
He slammed the remaining books back into the trolley, and stalked off back through the shelves. As he went, Jon heard him mutter "pompous prick" under his breath.
#rosencrantz and guildenstern are not particularly relevant at all#r&g au#tma au#tma high school au#tma fanfic#tma#the magnus archives#jmart#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#sasha james#the misha archives
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youtube
Tell me about it, sailor! Hi, I’m Krebs Gorlon and I’m currently on sabbatical from my career as a window to window vacuum cleaner salesman so I’m writing you this intro. Yes, you heard me right. I sell vacuum cleaners via windows. I knock. I peek. Sometimes I break the glass. People stopped answering their doors for salesmen years ago, so I decided to take a new approach. Windows! Sure, they scream. They point firearms at me. They say they are going to call the police. And things get really weird when I try to climb into their windows, especially the bathroom windows. But do they buy a vacuum? They sure don’t! That’s why I’m on sabbatical. I mean that’s why I was fired. Mike and Jay pay me 12 cents a word to write intros to their videos (hence the length). So in this video Mike and Jay are back in the VCR repair shop to have another wacky adventure and to recap just a few films they saw recently. They really wanted to focus on a large piece of ass movie called “The Other” a movie filled with tropes and bad acting and a weird, stupid plot that will leave you scratching the hole in your head. The other movies are all pretty good and worth a watch. Are they the best movies ever made?!?! Nope. So calm down you angry keyboard-typers. It’s just a few light recommendations. Enjoy watching these old clowns try to speak is really the fun part of these videos. Mike looks so old and haggard it's like he's sliding his fat ass right into his grave. Jay's brain is rotting from the outside in. You can see it in his dead eyes and forced laughter. He's a dumb ass head. One might also suggest he's lost his edge. You see, Jay used to be "straight edge" meaning he never drank bleach or snorted powdered milk lips. Then he started smoking crack and doing bong loads or crypto currency shots off bartenders backsides and cracksides and BOOM! He was on a roll. He tried to get Rich Evans to start abusing substances too. First he started at McDonald's. Boy, was THAT a mess! And yes I'm talking about the bathroom floor. Then he took Rich to a whisky bar. One shot later Rich was riding a mechanical bull. True story! Rich flew off the mechanical bull and right out the window and into another bar. Landed right on the stool. He said, "Lou. Get me a milk. Chocolate." and from that day on Rich Evans never touched the stuff. Booze not milk whips or crypto shots. Mike (The ugly fat old dumb one) drinks soooo much booze every day of the year that when he went to his doctor his doctor told him that he shouldn't stop drinking. "why?" Mike asked. The doctor replied, "Because it'll kill you" - true story. You see if Mike went cold turkey with the booze, his heart and liver would explode or combust. The doctor told him to ease into being off booze. Try one less bottle of Jack Daniels each morning until he was down to 15 bottles a day. Then they could talk. After the doctor's appointment Mike rode that mechanical bull home while throwing back some cans of Schlitz. He converted the mechanical bull into a short-range car. He was able to obtain the beast because of a deal he made with the tavern owner. "You give me the mechanical bull, Rich Evans won't sue." he said. So every so often you might see Mike on the expressway riding his bull. You'll have to change lanes because the goddamn thing only goes 8 miles an hour, but hey it's a living! Speaking of a living, back to my job as a window to window vacuum cleaner salesman. About a year ago I peeked into Rich's window to try to make a sale. I hear that man is so dirty he just might benefit from the newest Dyson XJ21000 model. It's the same vacuum they used to clean up Chernobyl. I was about to knock on his window when I spied him pooping into his own hands and wiping his own fecal matter onto his own walls. He was dressed as a Nun as well. Now this wasn't the weird part. The weird part was he now had a shelf of Warhammer figures and a photo of himself as a toddler in a Wendy's ad framed on the wall. What a liar! He told that whole story but it was really about him.
#youtube#redlettermedia#red letter media#rich evans#jay bauman#half in the bag#gorilla interrupted#mike stoklasa#best of the worst#jack packard#viagra boys#shrimp tech#sebastian murphy#post punk#shrimp shack#shrimp#live#live music#live show#beer#booze#bad movie#blog#basketball#black and white#beautiful#natural body#amazing body#video editor#viral
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This is gonna be a long vent post so uh yeah
Cw: Detailed description of a shutdown/meltdown
So a few hours ago during the last period of school I had a big shutdown that turned into a meltdown the second the dean asked "Are you done with your work?" (I do my English mainly in the dean's office since she helps 504 kids and my classmates are horrible in English)
Our last unit of the year is a podcast unit. I finally finished the first recording assignment the other day, one that was like 2 weeks late but only a few days late with my 200% time accommodation, and now I have one thing to do. One thing out of all of my classes at the moment. It's another podcast, and is normally due tomorrow. We've had 2 weeks so far to work on it and I haven't even finished the planning sheet because EVERY TIME I LOOK AT THE FUCKING DOCUMENT I JUST SHUT DOWN AND SIT THERE FOR THE ENTIRE HOUR.
The past few days, it's made me cry silently and unmoving in my seat. The dean didn't notice until today, and the shut down turned into a melt down right when she didn't even ask if I was okay, she asked if I finished my work. I was hyperventilating and trying my best to be as quiet as I could as to not be a burden upon the rest of the front office area. I wanted to punch the chromebook, to scream at the top of my lungs, to tear my hair out. But no, I just sat there hyperventilating and sniffling, hunched over the table, apologizing for no reason.
Well, I was apologizing for being a loud mess and not listening to her on how I could write the introduction because naming Princess Diana's charities in the very introduction would be way too obvious (the podcast is Imagined Life, you go through the life of a celebrity, describing it in the second person and only revealing who it is at the end)
I still have the same straight As that I've had all year, but if I don't finish this fucking unit that I hate so much, then my English grade is gonna drop so low because each podcast project is almost 100 points each and is put into the test category on Skyward (tests are worth 30-something% of the full grade.) I don't want to do this unit, I hate it so much and I can't muster up anything to progress on it.
When she would tell me to type it up, I could barely even do the function, I wasn't able to do any of the tasks I had to do the entire period. All I could do was just reach my hand out to the keyboard and then just pull it right back to my face.
I felt so fucking guilty and ashamed for not doing anything, I know I was rendered useless and had to cope and get away from the problem, but I felt like I couldn't do that, I couldn't do that, otherwise I'd be lazy and stubborn and a cry-baby and just having a big temper tantrum.
I remember it so vividly and I think that was one of the worst I've ever had.
I hate this
I hate being like this
I hate masking
I hate unmasking too
What went wrong this year? I thought I was doing great, only a few late assignments before I got my 504, so few meltdowns compared to the last few years, I finally started figuring out why my brain is how it is
Oh
That was where it went wrong. I started advocating for an autism diagnosis and when I got evaluated by the school, they said I missed the communication category and legally didn't qualify for autism-related accommodations. Sure, they said I still was totally likely to be medically diagnosed positive, but all the doubt, all the questioning, all the impostor syndrome, all of EVERYTHING is where this year went wrong.
I don't want to write anymore so if you read all of this, thank you. I don't care if anyone interacts or not, but I really needed to vent and connect with the rest of the autistic community. I can't wait for this school year to be over.
#autism#adhd#audhd#autistic community#actually autistic#autism spectrum disorder#actually autism#adhd rant#adhd problems#actually adhd#audhd problems#actually audhd#meltdown#shutdown#autism vent#vent#vent post#remy_theratking
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Blog Extra - MS Awareness Week 22nd April to 28th April 2024
This week is UK MS Awareness Week and this year Overcoming MS is running a campaign called #MSUnfiltered.
As part of the campaign, OMS is working with MS Society UK, MS Together, Multiple Sclerosis Trust, MS-UK, Neuro Therapy Network and Shift.ms to survey over 1,400 people in the UK living with MS. The survey results showed us that:


When I was diagnosed the first thing I did was to check out the MS charity websites, as recommended by my neurologist. When I read the long list of symptoms
I was appalled because I had virtually all of these symptoms to some degree or another.
Here is the list of symptoms combined from the MS Trust and the MS Society websites:
Fatigue
Strange Skin sensations (numbness tingling, pins and needles, a crawling)
Balance and Co-ordination
Vision Problems
Walking difficulties
Thinking & memory difficulties (brain fog)
Bladder & bowel issues
Temperature sensitivity
Low mood, emotional problems, depression, and anxiety
Pain
Sexual issues
Sleep problems
Speech and swallowing problems
Hearing difficulties
Tremors
So when I read the list not only was I dismayed, I was also rather confused. Because, some of those symptoms I had been putting down to my age. So how do I know is it my MS or an age thing?
But I’m really hear to talk about the #MSUnfiltered campaign and what we don’t usually talk about.
While I have been very open about my MS diagnosis, there are some people who chose not to tell their employer for fear of being judged and side-lined at work. And when I chose to give up work, I didn’t tell my clients the full reasons behind my decision. Which were, that I no longer trusted myself to build an accurate spreadsheet of financial projections or that it took me three times longer that it should to write a simple report due to my brain fog and reduction in manual dexterity at the keyboard. The reduction in my ability to hold complex ideas in my mind undermined my confidence in my own abilities. I wanted them to remember me as someone capable of doing everything that I used.
Sometimes I get so overwhelmed by outside stimulus that I struggle to think straight or to express myself properly. All I can manage is a grunt because I can’t get the words that I want to say out. I come over as inarticulate and I worry people will think I am rude because I only use a few words and need to go and lie down.
Up to 50% of people with MS have poor mental health – this is something I am comfortable talking about and I am happy to fly the flag here. However, when I went on an MS retreat in November and started to talk about how MS affects my mental health, not one person had the courage to talk about their own issues. Even though there were 40 people in the room, and we were in a ‘safe space’. If the stats are right at least 20 people in that room must have experience of poor mental health. For a moment, I felt a bit embarrassed for raising the topic, but only for a moment. What I really felt was sympathy that no one else had the courage to share.
And finally, my closest friends will know that I use the loo A LOT. I now have a RADAR key but I haven't had to use it YET.

#MSAwarenessWeek #MSAwareness #MS #MSDiagnosis #OvercomingMS #OMS #MSSymptoms
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Water, Earth, Fire, Air, for the ask because I keep hearing the intro in my head and it's on you now to save the world
Swear I didn't forget about this!! it has simply been a few days since I've actually pulled out the laptop, thank you for the ask friend!!!
Water: How did you start writing? warriors cat fanfiction. I didn't know fanfiction was the term for it at the time, I was like 9 and writing little stories about cats on the portable keyboards we were supposed to be doing typing lessons on. Went straight from that into roleplay on the neopets message boards, the most prestigious training grounds
Earth: What do you think is the foundation of your WIP? excellent question and one i am. wracking my brain for an answer for fjdskl If we mean like. the core theme or whatnot. I think discverse is a lot of autonomy, very ship of theseus sorts of questions (if your entire consciousness is boiled down to what's essentially lines of code in a little disc, what if someone slides an extra line of code in there, are the results of that real, are they you?) and spacecapades. hm. a lot of human stubbornness, to settle where every law of nature says we shouldn't, to defend what little homes we've scraped out of the rocks, to protect what's ours, and every one of these against rather ridiculous odds. You tell people "you can't do that" and there's always a group of them that will dig their heels in and do it out of spite.
Fire: What’s a scene that you are dying to write? any of them at all at this point I think in spacecapades the scene of finding Donny after All That Time is gonna be really fun, who needs context for that. for discverse...honestly I don't know if the plot would ever actually lead to the clone factory on/in the one moon but boy I think anything in that place would be super creepy and delightful
Air: What’s the easiest part of writing for you? Dialogue babeyyy I love me some dialogue!! So much of the random ideas I get during my shifts at work are just chunks of dialogue that I then have to find context for
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I really like it when I get vivid, story-like dreams. But I usually can’t remember the details when I wake up, or they don’t make any sense anymore. But I got a good one the other night.
So this dream was about a demon or body-snatching alien or something that would possess people and, after a while, kill their entire family in some ritual to create their own body or open portals or something. I wasn’t very clear on the endgame. So in my dream, this happened once, but in the next movie/episode/chapter (I often experience my dreams as books or movies), the demon accidentally grabbed a nonverbal autistic teenage girl to possess. And at first he’s like, “This is fine, she just doesn’t know how to talk, but I do, so no problem,” but then he realizes that her body has dyspraxia/apraxia so bad that he CAN’T talk. Or write. Or do a lot of other things that demons kind of need to do for rituals. And he’s like, “How do I do all my nefarious plans now?” But then he learns that she has an iPad with a picture-to-talk program on it that she’s never really been taught to use. And most of the choices are food or whatever, but she also has access to a keyboard. So, he goes and taps on the letters with one finger and types out “FUCK YOU” and sits back and giggles while the iPad reads it out. And her parents are like, “The first time our daughter ever talks, it’s to say F-you to us?!” And he’s just sitting there thinking, “I’m not your daughter, muahaha.”
After that, I mostly went back and “edited” the story (like I said, I experience my dreams like books a lot of the time). I learned that the girl was very tall and had long, straight, light brown hair in a ponytail, which is honestly the most vivid description I’ve gotten of a dream character in YEARS. Also, it turns out she got possessed because she was hanging around watching her preteen sister and friends play with a Ouija board. Things went weird, and lightbulbs burst or whatever, and the girls all panicked a bit and then checked whether everyone was okay, but they didn’t talk to the autistic girl because, you know, they assumed she didn’t even know what was going on. Maybe if they had, it would have gone differently.
So then I woke up, and I was like: first of all, WTF brain, and secondly, I kind of want to read a book based on this?
Like, they start to work together, and he really improves her life! He makes people pay attention to her and treat her like a human being. And he goes from a really, genuinely, unrepentantly evil being who loves making people murder their families to actually caring about her. Until she decides she wants to move forward on her own... but he wants to stay. Besides, as far as he knows, there are only two ways out of a body he's spent this much time in: a bloody ritual to give him the power to possess a new body, or an exorcism that sends him back to Hell for decades to regain his strength. What now?
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Ready Player 1 ? - Shigaraki x reader
18+ MDNI | masturbation, praise , video chats, crack-humor
most would consider it unwise for a girl like you to be in these chat rooms due to the questionable discourse and rather infamous patrons, but girls just wanna have fun right ?
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: saw an old couple today, could be me and shig but he’s playing ☹️
user2345: i think you mean planning* as in planning world domination and torment of quirkless losers like you.
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh sweetheart you’ll never get any pussy if you keep acting like one
user3333: damn bro, you gonna take that ?
user2345: who gives a shit about some villain groupie ?
user2345: she keeps her mouth so full of cum that it’s starting to affect her whore brain.
user2345: do you really think the true leader of the new world would make time for some dumb cunt like you ?
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: there’s probably a higher chance of tomura shigaraki and i living happily ever after than there is of ANY woman even looking in your direction.
this was a normal friday night, you simping over shigaraki in the forums and clapping back at the misogynistic incels that hid behind their keyboards in their mothers’ basements. but there was one guy that always stood up for you whenever the idiots got too out of hand. he was also a moderator so he had no problems blocking them.
the two of you would dm off and on about life , thoughts on hero society, hobbies , etc. from your chats you gathered that he didn’t walk that straight and narrow but that didn’t mean much to you. he would sometimes tease your about your crush on shigaraki and your general taste in men.
finalboss: honestly, what kind of girl likes a criminal?; who knows what kind of twisted shit the guys into— you’re not even a villain.
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you know nothing jon snow
finalboss: that reference just confirmed btw
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i’ll have you know that my beloved is a certified otaku fantasy nerd.
finalboss: oh yeah ? and how’d you obtain such info ?
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i run 3 stan accounts on twitter and i belong to a shiggy fan club 🥹
finalboss: 😃
finalboss: seek help
finalboss: 😃
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you wound me ☹️
finalboss: i’ll just leave that too your Prince Charming lol
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh lord , did you see the footage of his latest attack ?
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: he was dressed like a whoreee 😩😩
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: tits just out for my viewing pleasure
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: shigaraki is my shepherd, he know what i want.
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: wanna suck on those sugar nips and call him mommy
finalboss: you get weirder and weirder every time we chat
xoxo_|hisMC ✮: that means we’re becoming besties ㅤ♡ ︎
finalboss: ♡ ︎
it was nice having someone to talk to about your secret obsession, it’s not like your “real life” friends would understand. the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the internet to goof around in. he never disclosed much information about himself and typically kept the conversations focused on you, but you still felt an undeniable bond to this faceless stranger.
then he ghosted you.
weeks went by without a word from your friend. he no longer defended you in the forums and he didn’t respond to any of your dms. you’d started to get worried that he may have been arrested or worse. and at the three month mark you’d finally given up hope that you’d ever hear from your friend again. but then the unexpected happened.
finalboss is requesting to video chat.
this was completely out of character but after months with no word, you were desperate to hear from your friend.
you were prepared to chew him him out for abandoning you. thinking of all the ways you could insult him while simultaneously expressing your need for his comfort and company. but your mind went blank when the grainy screen loaded into the pixelated image of your companion.
whispy tendrils fell from his bun, framing the sculpted planes of his handsome face. his lips were dry, slightly chapped, with the only lubrication being the sheen of saliva left by the slow drag of his tongue. bloodied eyes bore into your own leaving you breathless and dazed.
“hey bestie”
his voice was low and raspy, almost like a whisper. a deep rumbling that echoed in your ear drums. it was oddly hypnotic. he was absolutely mesmerizing.
tomura chuckled into the camera, showing flashes of perfectly white teeth. he leans back into the chair, a hand on the back of his neck showcasing a broad chest and toned abs.
“didn’t expect you to be this quiet, bestie. is my outfit not slutty enough for you ? i could always take these off…” his hand fell from his neck to rest and the waistband of his black jeans.
you remained speechless, eyes glued to the light dusting of hair below his belly button.
more laughter and shifting. now you were met with the glorious girth of shigaraki’s cock clenched tightly in his fist. the darkened tip oozed a sparkling trail of pre that spilled down his length. his thumb swiped the fluid to spread over his veiny member.
“c’mon , doll. don’t leave me hanging” he teased, squeezing his fist upwards to produce more pre. “i thought you wanted to be my ‘mc’ ? seems more like an npc if you ask me”.
“y-you’re him” you stammered, eyes following the slow drag of his fist. “you’re tomura shigaraki”.
“in the flesh” he teased, shooting a wink that went directly between your legs. “well kinda, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. sorry i’ve been away so long, but you’d wait forever for me won’t you , perfect girl ?”
your nod was automatic. robotic even. you’d moved closer to the screen, completely engrossed by his ministrations.
“anything for you beyon—shiggy”
you both laughed at that. he appreciated your humor, especially with all the drama in his day to day. even in def con simp mode and being ghosted didn’t stop you from being undeniably you. that’s probably why he was as obsessed with you as you were with him.
“i know we probably have alot to discuss but todays been kind of shitty and i’d really like to explore our final fantasies”.
you snorted, “that was really bad , shig”.
he shrugged, “i’m a villain, not a comedian, beloved. “now show me that perfect little pussy”.
#yandere shigaraki#shigaraki smut#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tomura#tenko shimura#mha shigaraki#mha smut#shigaraki x black reader#shigaraki x chubby reader#mha x blackreader#mha x chubby reader#mha crack
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It’s (just so) awkward | jungkook (bts) - part two
No way. We’re too different and he’s so—so black and white. A straight-up yes-or-no kind of guy. And I’m not.”
Genre: nerd! Jungkook x outspoken! Reader, university! Au, idiots to lovers au, kim changbin cameo (skz)
Part One | Part Two | Next Part >>>
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"It's just you and me, and the song on repeat in my head." — Fall Into Me, Forest Blakk
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“Do you think that there are people out there looking at the sky and wondering what we are?”
Jungkook tore his gaze off from his phone long enough to raise a brow at you, the kind of look he gave you whenever you asked something out of the blue. You sat there, head tilted back and legs dangling from the edge as your eyes trailed through eh throng of stars dotting the sky.
“Scientifically speaking, no planet can inhabit human life like earth does,” he answered as he went back to his phone, fingers flying away on the keyboard, “so your point is invalid.”
You sighed, then looked at him, “do you have to keep looking at your phone? I thought you were the one who told me phones weren’t allowed when we’re talking.”
He had the decency to look guilty as he gently pushed his phone back into his pocket, “sorry,” he mumbled, “but I stand by my theory. Your assumptions are too far fetched to be reality. There’s no oxygen up there, so it’d be pretty much impossible for planets to have any signs of life—“
“But what if they adapted to something else? What if they didn’t need oxygen to live?”
“They wouldn’t be called humans then.”
“Exactly my point.” You looked back up to the starry night, admired the glittering stars filled with the entirety of humanity’s wishes, “you really like her, huh?”
the question threw him off guard. He blinked at you like a deer in the headlights, “who?”
“Sara,” you tried to smile, though it felt as though your face was cracking in two, “you like her, don’t you? Isn’t that who you were texting up to this point?”
“Yes, because she takes good notes and I would benefit from them,” he pulled his knees up to his chest before leaning upon your shoulder, hair tickling the side of your face as he did so, “why are you asking so many questions about Sara? You keep bringing her up every time.”
In the darkness that surrounded your figures, your lips trembled with the desire to spill out the thoughts that had been roaming in your head rent-free for the past few weeks. As you’d watched him and the said girl get closer with each passing day, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being left behind, which was absurd, considering that you were always the one dragging Jungkook along to all kinds of parties or events because he was just so awkward and blunt that no one dared to approach him.
Yet, this situation seemed to be reversed now, and you wondered briefly whether Jungkook could feel your absence as much as you felt his.
“Sorry, I guess I was just curious,” you finally said to break the silence buzzing with growing awkwardness, “would that be such a bad thing though? To spend more time with her?”
“Is that what you want me to do?”
“It depends whether that’s what you want to do.”
“Why would I want to spend more time with her?”
“Because you—I don’t know,” you tried to chuckle, “because maybe you might like her?”
Jungkook went silent at that and something in your heart punctured in two. Jesus Christ, Y/N! You screamed at your brain, get a hold of yourself! What was wrong with you? You didn’t own him, nor did you care about who he fell in love with!
Right?
….right?
“You’re not going crazy,” Yoona spoke when you finally decided to spill the beans the day after. It was clear from your face that very morning that you were up all night tossing and turning about whether you actually held feelings for the said young man, “I think you’re jealous because he’s spending more time with Sara than he is with you.”
“I’m not jealous,” you snapped despite the flaming red heating up your cheeks, “I’m just…worried.”
“Sure, and you’re in denial.”
Denial? We’re you in denial? You kept on thinking about what that meant to you, which did not go unnoticed by Changbin a few days afterwards when he strolled into the art lab to find you pulling out strands of your hair in frustration.
He nudged your shoulder with his arm as he took a seat next to you, flashing you a charming yet mischievous grin as he took in your face, “what’s got your panties in a twist?”
“Nothing,” you grumbled. But it was clearly not nothing, and as he pushed at you to confess, you did reluctantly, hating the fact that you were weak enough to crumble under his hard stare. When you were done talking, Changbin merely threw his head back in laughter and caused a few people from the lab to glance his way in half curiosity and concern.
You swatted at his arm, “stop laughing!” You hissed with narrowed eyes, “it’s not funny—stop Changbin!”
“Sorry sorry,” he wiped at the stray tears dotting the corner of his eyes, “I just—I knew it. You fucking like him, huh? And now you’re being a jealous little bitch about it.”
“I’m not—“ anger flared through you, “—I’m not a jealous little bitch!”
“And I’m not an asshole,” he rolled his eyes, “get over it. You’re jealous. It’s crystal clear why. Loser boy stops paying attention to you and suddenly there’s a new girl in his life. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
You hated the fact that he was right, “I hate you.”
“I know,” his grin widened, “but you know what? At least I’m honest. Why don’t you try it sometime with loser boy? I’m sure he’ll find it pretty fucking amusing.”
“I don’t—I don’t like him, and I’m not jealous.”
“Then would you accept to go on a date with me?”
“What?” Your mind went blank. You stared at him, wondering whether he was being serious.
“I’m asking you to go on a date with me, idiot.”
“But—But—Why?”
You felt your neck flush with embarrassment. Was he being serious right now?
“Because for one; you can make him jealous. And two; because you’re kinda cute and I think I’ll have a good time,” he winked at you then, causing you to flush even redder.
“Uhm—“ this was too much information to take in at once and you excused yourself in haste, surprised that Changbin let you go freely without expecting any response. You managed to get out of the lab and into the right bus, and it was only then that you tried to mull over everything that had just happened. Changbin asking you out was the most shocking turn of events, but maybe he was right. Maybe you needed to know whether Jungkook would react just as you did. Maybe you needed to give Jungkook a taste of his own medicine.
Which was why you agreed to the date.
———
“With who?”
Jungkook was looking at you with wide eyes behind his spectacles. He’d been working on his architecture assignment while keeping you company in a nearby campus cafe when you dropped the bomb.
“Changbin,” even the words sounded forced coming from your mouth, but you keep going, “I thought it’d be fun to give it a try…I’m single, anyway. So why not?”
“Changbin.” Jungkook’s eyes were darting right, left and center, “you’re going to go on a date with Changbin,” he repeated.
“Yeah.”
“Do you like him?”
“Hm, kinda. Yeah.”
“What do you like about him?”
“I—“ you pressed your lips together, “—he’s funny. And…kind. When you get to know him,” you hurriedly add when confusion breaks across his face, “we get along well.”
Jungkook didn’t look convinced, “but he doesn’t like me.”
“Don’t say that,” you huffed, “and plus, does it matter?”
“Yes. Because I’m your friend,” he paused, “your good friend.”
“Well does Sara like me?” You shot back.
“Yes.”
“Have you asked her?”
“…No.”
“Then that doesn’t count,” you shook your head before leaning back against the library couch.
He finally stopped typing to look at you, a frown furrowing his eyebrows, “why wouldn’t she like you?”
“Because girls don’t like it when other girls are around their potential boyfriends.”
“But I’m not her boyfriend.”
“Do you want to be?”
He shrugged, “what does that mean?”
“Well…kinda like, you know, doing stuff together. Holding hands, spending time together, hugging each other on your bad days—“
“Then doesn’t that make you my girlfriend?”
You almost choked on your own spit, “uhm—“
He paused for a second, “we already do all these things.”
“Well yeah, but you do other stuff too. Like, kissing and making out and going on dates and stuff…” you trailed off without knowing how to continue the conversation so that it wouldn’t turn awkward.
Jungkook’s wide eyes turned to give you a look filled with both shock and worry, “Is that what you’re going to be doing with Changbin?”
“Wha—no! It’s just a date! A friendly one, we’re getting to know each other,” you were quick to swat away his accusations.
“Well I do not approve,” Jungkook stated, “but it seems you’ve already made up your mind.”
“I have, and I’m going to have fun.”
In all honesty, Changbin’s suggestion was a welcome distraction for you to push back all those weird thoughts you’d been having about Jungkook lately. It happened sometimes, right? You were friends, so of course you would feel a little weird and awkward about his newly piqued interest in other girls.
Right?
And plus, Changbin was kind of cute. In that rugged, dishevelled manner. As cute as a sulky dog.
Which was why you were more than a little surprised to find Jungkook beside Changbin when you arrived to your desired destination. Your jaw dropped, eyes going wide as they flitted between one and the other.
“What are you doing here?” You screeched, wanting to bang your head against something. You had agrees to this to make you forget all about Jungkook. So what were you supposed to do now?!
“Changbin thought it would be fun to invite Sara and I,” Jungkook said, “I thought you would be happy.”
Your eyes narrowed into slits, “what is wrong with you?” You hissed at him, “that wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Hey, the more the merrier right?” Changbin grinned mischievously, the kind of grin that made you want to slap it right off.
In a desperate attempt to set things straight, you turned back to Jungkook, “I thought you didn’t like arcades—“
“Oh relax Y/N, why are you so stiff?” Changbin cut you off, “it’s a double date. I’m sure Jungkook will love it just as much as you will.”
You opened your mouth to protest only to find none other than Sara bounding up to tour group with the biggest smile on her face, “I’m so ready for this!” She squealed, “I haven’t been to the arcade in so long!”
If you were feeling bad about yourself initially, it was nothing compared to how you felt now seeing her all dressed up in a cute outfit while you had just opted for jeans and a simple t-shirt. This feeling merely grew like a weed spreading through your body as the group decided to tackle the racing games first.
“Y/N hates racing games,” Jungkook said as they approached the arena already filled with people. It seemed as though there was already an ongoing race, with two boys neck to neck for the first place, “maybe we should start with something else.”
“But I like racing games,” Sara whined with a pout, causing you to roll your eyes inwardly. There was a whoop as the winner jumped up and ran out, followed by the loser grumbling under his breath.
“It’s fine,” you said to Jungkook before gesturing towards the now vacant seat, “I’ll sit out on this one.”
On and on it went, the torture of having to restrain yourself from pulling Sara’s hair out despite the fact that she wasn’t even all that bad to begin with. Actually, she was quite a nice girl and you could even enjoy her presence, if not for the fact that it was clear as day she was smitten with your best friend.
And it didn’t seem like your best friend minded either, from the looks of it. They spent the entire afternoon glued to each other’s side and it took everything in you not to smash something when you spotted a plushie cradled under Sara’s arm when they found their way back to you and Changbin who were currently indulging in a zombie fight. Or rather, you were indulging and he was making fun of you for it.
“Well, seems like you two had some fun,” Changbin said cheerfully.
“Shut up Changbin,” you muttered before turning away. This whole afternoon was starting to make your head hurt, “I’m going home.“
“Y/N—“ you ignored Jungkook’s call in favour of walking away as something snapped off between your heartstrings. You bit down onto your lower lip, restraining it from trembling as you focused on getting as far away as fast as you possibly could.
But a voice pierced through the cacophony of sounds to call your name and though you wished to ignore it, you had no other choice but to turn around when it seemed to get closer to you— to be faced with none other than a dishevelled Jungkook.
“Why are you upset?”
You almost laughed at his question. Indeed, no one was more blunt than Jungkook. The back of your throat tightened.
“I’m not upset.” You managed to answer.
“Then why are you looking at me like that? Like you’re angry at me or something. It’s scaring me a little.”
“I—“ you pressed your lips together, “can’t you just drop it this one time? I’m tired and I want to go home.”
“I’ll come with you—“
“No,” you cut him off more firmly than was necessary, “you stay with Sara. She needs you.”
“But—“
“See you around, Jungkook.”
And before he could say anything else, you were walking down the pavement like there was fire at your heels, glad that you didn’t turn back to watch Jungkoo gaze at you until you disappeared around the block.
———
I don’t like him.
I don’t like him, you kept chanting. I don’t like him.
what was there to like? Not his stuck-up fashion sense that made as if he’d stepped out of a 90’s movie, not the unflattering way his hair was glued to the sides of his face, and definitely not the way he chortled whenever he found something really funny, an ungrateful act at its best, surely.
But dear god you would’ve been lying to say that you hadn’t been thinking of Jungkook for this past week.
Midterms were coming up and winter was making its arrival known, the smell of pumpkin spice lattes and hot cocoa drifting through the food hall campus as groups of students scattered around with textbooks perched precariously atop tables to cram everything they could last minute.
To distract yourself from those weird, alienating thoughts about your best friend, you decided to do the same. Unfortunately for you, Yoona and Jimin thought you were being utterly and unbelievably stupid.
“Why can’t you two just make up and then everyone can be happy?” Jimin asked in exasperation one day when he stumbled in on you and Jungkook exchanging stiff greetings (mostly you though) before parting ways.
You glared at him, “he’s the one hanging out with Lee Sara, not me.”
“Well he says that you seeing Sara makes you mad, so obviously he’s going to try to steer her away from you,” Jimin explained as he flipped open his computer science textbook, “you know how his brain works, Y/N. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize his intentions.”
You grumbled out an agreement between sips of your too-strong coffee and had to admit to yourself that Jimin was right. Jungkook had been doing it with all the right intentions. He never did understand the concept of jealousy and envy and the horrible desire to have someone to yourself. And that was exactly what you felt.
So it didn’t take you by surprise when the said young man turned up Friday night with a bag of donuts in hand and some hot chocolate in the other, claiming that you two had made plans for the evening. Something about a study session that you yourself had forgotten about until you checked your phone calendar.
“You didn’t have to,” was what you grumbled out as you let him in and flopping down onto your couch as he proceeded to pull off his shoes by your doorway, “that was a long time ago. It’s not like I was prepared to expect you.”
“That’s quite alright. I’ve seen your place in worse shape,” Jungkook replied. He placed the food on your coffee table before pulling out his textbook and you watched him, wondering why in the world did he make your heart twist and turn and snap with endless turns of emotions when there were so many other men out there who at least understood the concepts of relationships.
No. I don’t like him, you chanted, I’m just being jealous. A jealous best friend.
“Why did you come?” The words blurted out of your mouth before you could stop them. You quickly averted your eyes when his flickered up in curiosity.
“Because we agreed to have a study session at your house,” he said simply, as logical as ever, “we agreed on it a few weeks ago.”
“Right, forgive me for not remembering,” you said through clenched teeth, “but you didn’t have to ditch Sara for me—“
“Do you not like Sara?”
“What?”
“Do you not like her? You keep mentioning her every time we’re together. And then Jimin said something weird to me last week,” Jungkook shifted to face you better and that made you notice that for the first time, he was in sweatpants and a normal hoodie, and his hair —his hair was down and freshly washed, hanging over his face.
Cute.
You were so distracted by his appearance that you almost missed his little speech, “what did Jimin say?”
“That I wasn’t giving you enough of my time and attention, which is why you keep being mad.”
That little fucker. You were going to kill this man. You swallowed and leaned back against the couch, “that’s not true.”
“Then you’re not mad at me?”
You didn’t know how to answer his question without lying and knowing Jungkook, he was good at sniffing that out. So you changed the subject instead, “hey, I think we should order some chicken. Do you want some?”
Jungkook’s eyebrows dipped into a frown, but he didn’t push it and agreed on ordering some takeout before you both settled into comfortable silence. Snow drifted down outside your window pane as the night wore on and the more you focused on anything that wasn’t Jungkook, the easier it was to fill the sudden awkward silence that prevailed, merely broken by the shuffling of papers and the scrape of pen marks.
“You’re not in your Jungkook clothes,” you suddenly asked out of the blue, almost regretting it when Jungkook’s curious gaze searched your face.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed his eyebrows furrowing together, “Jungkook clothes?”
“Yeah, clothes that you always wear. Aka your shirt tucked into pants. And what’s up with your hair? It’s all like—casual.”
He touched his tuft of hair self-consciously, “I just took a shower. I can’t put gel in it right after showering.”
You crossed your arms over your chest before you leaned back against the edge of the couch, your knee brushing his as you crossed your legs, “so you do know how to dress like a normal human being.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jungkook flipped through his physics workbook as he spoke, “I don’t think t-shirts are appropriate to attend lectures. They’re not flattering at all and show lack of respect.”
“Oh because you think tucking your shirt into your pants shows respect?” You snickered impulsively, causing Jungkook to scowl at you as he said, “well I never complained about your lack of clothes.”
“Sorry sorry,” you tried toning down on the laughter, “it’s just—my bad Jungkook. I didn’t mean to offend you and your…casual clothes.” Your voice broke into another round of laughter at that and Jungkook’s ears reddened before he flung a pillow at your face.
“Ouch,” you groaned, rubbing your nose from where it had bounced off, “that was a bit brutal.”
“I don’t recall you deserving any type of gentle treatment,” he retorted, “now let me finish my physics assignment otherwise we’ll be here all night.”
Truth to be told, you both finished around midnight and agreed on going out for some late midnight snack, quickly zipping up your coat and boots before shoving a beanie on your head.
“Wait,” Jungkook said just as you were about to open the door, and you felt his hand — it was warm and big, bigger than you thought it was — at your cheek, pushing a few strands of hair under your beanie.
The action caught you off-guard and you blinked, noticing just how close Jungkook was. So close that if you moved, your nose would brush against the nape of his neck.
“There,” Jungkook leaned back and all the warmth was gone, leaving only your reddened cheeks in its place.
No ice cream parlor seemed to be open at this time, forcing you to settle on some ice cream sticks from the convenience store. You sat outside on the freezing steps, butts going numb as you indulged in the sweet treat.
“That’s so good,” you mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate ice, “it’s been a while since I’ve had ice cream.”
“I’m not particularly a fan,” Jungkook ate his own stick of vanilla cone, “but this one is not bad.”
“Not bad, but you’re still eating it.”
“Mostly to accompany you.”
“Oh I’m touched,” your tone dripped with sarcasm, “you do that a lot with Sara too? Accompany her because she likes doing things that you necessarily don’t?”
“Y/N,” the way Jungkook said your name had you pause, eyes flickering over to his face only to see that he was already watching you, dark orbs swirling with something you couldn’t quite place.
When he spoke next, his voice was soft, yet firm:
“I don’t really appreciate you talking about Sara this way.”
Your throat went dry, “i—I didn’t—“
“You might be a little envious that I spend time with her, but she is my friend. As you are. You do not have to feel the need to bring her down just because you are a bit envious—“
“I am not envious,” you snapped back automatically, anger curling though your stomach like a rising flame, “I just—I’m just trying to say that people aren’t necessarily who you think they are, Jungkook. You should know that.”
Jungkook looked at you for a long, drawn-out moment, “I appreciate your concern, but not this way Y/N.”
It broke something inside your heart, the way he kept on tugging down your pride and your walls like he’s having the time of his life ripping it apart at the seams, and you couldn’t help feeling the sudden clog of emotion at the base of your throat at how serious he was being about this. He’d never spoken this way to you before, this was a first.
And it hurt.
“Fine then,” you murmured out. You had finished the ice cream by then and wrapped it back up in its package before tossing it into the trash with more force than necessary, “I won’t do that anymore. And I’m sorry if that upset you.”
“Y/N,” Jungkook called as you turned your back on him, “what is it that you’re not telling me? You have that face again.”
“What face?” You play dumb. Since when was Jungkook so invested in knowing every facial expression you possessed?
He pointed at you, “that. You look mad at me, but not quite mad. There’s something else that you’re not telling me.”
“I’ve already told you everything,” you tried to laugh, “it’s just how my face is—“
Jungkook suddenly leaned in close. Too close. So close you saw the sparkles in his doe eyes and a yelp died in the back of your throat, “that’s not true and you know it.” He murmured, sounding so much more like a man rather than himself that it caused goosebumps to rise along the back of your arms.
“Fine,” you quickly scrambled for some space, hating the way your heart seemed to beat out of your chest and you wondered briefly whether he could hear it too, “I just feel like you’re not the same anymore. We barely hang out and—and I just don’t like sharing you. I’m a jealous bitch, alright? That’s it. Are we done now?”
“So you were angry at me for spending too much time with Sara.”
“Well—yes, but—“
“Why?” He cut you off, dark eyes so intense on your face that it made you want to squirm. You held your ground though, biting down on your lower lip and curling your fingers into your sweater sleeves.
“Why…what?” Again, you played dumb even though something in your heart resonated at that. Realization washed over you like a tidal wave the more Jungkook kept on gazing at you, and you back at him.
There was something. Of course there was something. You were an idiot all along to not have listened to Changbin in the first place.
You were an idiot. In love.
Shit.
“I need to go,” you scrambled back too quickly for him to grasp your arm and said without looking at him, “I’ll see you around Jungkook. No need to walk me back.”
You didn’t wait to hear Jungkook’s protest as your feet took off on the pavement, legs pumping with adrenaline and panic until you reached the confines of your flat. Only then did you slide down to the floor and lean your head back against the door, wondering when you had signed up for such an ordeal.
And why, out of all people, was it Jungkook?
#Jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#taehyung#kpop scenarios#jungkook icons#jungkook scenarios#jungkook drabble#bangtan#jimin#namjoon#jungkook seven#romcom#angst#bts#BTS x you#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts headcanons#bts drabble#jungkook headcanons#bts jungkook
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oh oh! how do you think btas riddler would react to his s/o successfully completing The Riddle of the Minotaur?
A/N: Aww omg this idea is so cute! He would be estatic he would be thrilled and so proud!! Aww I always enjoy writing for my wee husbando this is so cute! Also sorry I sorta…went a wee bit off track lol and I..kinda borrowed a similar twist I’ve done before…I hope you don’t mind…it was just really hard to resist the opportunity was RIGHT THERE lmao
Word Count: 1k
BTAS Riddler x Reader - Full Playthrough
“Edward, what’s this?”
“Oh, you’ll see.” Ed smiled.
You sat up straight in a plush office chair, staring at a large computer monitor. An 8-bit epic score played through the speakers and a pixelated title on the screen in green text:
“The Riddle of the Minotaur”
Below the title was blinking green text stating;
“Press Enter to Start.”
When you finally read the title, you smiled up at Edward.
“It’s your game! I-I didn’t think you had a copy still…after what happened.”
Edward sighed, nodding. “Despite…the outcome of my game being stolen right from under me…I’m still very proud of it.”
“You should be!” You exclaimed.
Edward leaned in and gently nestled his chin into your left shoulder.
He whispered warmly into your ear. “But now, it would mean the world to me if…you played it in it’s entirety.”
You gasped. You always enjoyed playing Eddie’s puzzle toys and video games. They always got you to think outside the box and they were super fun too! Not to mention, you adored the praise he gave you for solving them.
Now, one of his most well known (or perhaps…infamous?) creations was in front of you. Waiting to go on a virtual enigmatic adventure.
‘I-I’d love to Eddie! This is exciting!” Edward chuckled. He always did love your enthusiasm for his creations.
He lifted his head up from your shoulder and gave an encouraging kiss to your temple.
“Good luck, darling. And don’t be surprised if it’s a bit different than what you might have learned when it was released.”
After that Edward walked out of his office, leaving you a bit confused at that last statement.
You knew a little about the game, it’s setting, and the objective to get to the center of a maze and outsmart the Minotaur. You have heard some kid beat the game while The Riddler was at large. What was the kid’s name? Tom? Dick? Harry?
You shrugged it off, maybe Edward just added a couple more puzzles or maybe updated some riddles?
Pushing down on the “enter” button, the game finally began.
Minutes soon turned into a couple of hours.
Your hands flew across the keyboard–answering riddles, clicking on arrows to navigate through the winding maze.
A couple riddles were some you have heard or seen before:
“What is the shortest distance between a point in Nome, Alaska, and a point in Miami, Florida?”
You even recognized one of Edward’s favorite riddlers.
“I have billions of eyes, yet I live in darkness. I have millions of ears yet only four lobes…”
Of course, the brain…duh!
You have yet to run into the Hand of Fate or the Minotaur.
You couldn’t help the proud smirk that grew on your face as you saw the center of the maze up ahead on the map.
However, now the questions…seemed to have changed.
The riddles thus far have been fairly usual and some were related to the theme of the Minotaur mythos…
Yet, these last few had a more…romantic feel?
“I can break, I can be clogged, I can be attacked, I can be given, I can be kept, I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time. What am I?”
A heart…
You navigated further to the center before you hit another riddle.
“I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but th easiest to ignore. I can be given to many, or just one. What am I?”
You tapped your finger on top of the mouse as you pondered.
“Love…” You typed out the word and pressed the enter key.
Heart, love…odd but you could feel your cheek slightly warm. Perhaps, these were the changes he made, to make the game more special for your playthrough.
Finally, you are just outside the center of the maze. You’re confronted by the Minotaur before you can pass through the final gate.
The pixelated minotaur raised his blade before asking a final riddle.
“Answer the riddle…and you shall pass to the center of the maze. If you answer incorrectly, you shall perish.” The red text typed out the Minotaur’s speech.
“For your final riddle…” The Minotaur began.
“...It connects two people…yet it only touches only one. What is it?”
An empty text box appeared at the bottom of the speech box. A vertical line blinked, waiting for an answer.
“W-What?” You asked out loud to yourself.
Connects two people…but only touching one or the other?
You were lost in thought, so much so you didnt’ hear the door open and someone slowly walking behind you.
Edward wore a proud wide grin on his face. You were so close to the finish line and he had the perfect reward.
“A…not a…ugh…there was love…heart…it’s gotta connect.”
You gasped as your mental lightbulb went off. You typed sporadically on the keys.
“A…wedding…ring?” You pressed enter.
The screen went black for a moment, before showing your warrior character in the middle of the maze standing in front of a trove of treasures.
Your smile grew wide as the text came up confirming your victory.
“Eddie!” You hollered as you jumped out of your seat. “I did it!”
“I knew you could, darling.” Eddie beamed.
You jumped again this time in surprise more than excitement.
Edward was right behind you, a soft look filled with affection topped with a sweet smile.
“Eddie! W-When–how–I, I did not see you-”
Edward chuckled. “I wanted to be here just before your inevitable win. I knew you would…but you never cease to amaze me.”
You giggled as you rushed over to him, planning for an embrace. But before you got your arms around him–he dropped down on one knee.
Your eyebrows scrunched in the middle.
Then another lightbulb goes off.
The riddles, the answers…especially near the end.
“I may be the smartest man in this world…but only you could make me the happiest man in this world…will you marry me?”
You got your second wind to rush him again, to finally embrace him. This time you followed through and even knocked him down to the ground.
“Yes! Yes!” You shrieked excitedly, “I’d love to!”
Edward sighed in relief as he tightened his arms around you. When you finally let up, Edward gently slid the ring on your finger.
“It connects two people…” He began.
When the ring nestled around the base of your finger, your smile widened more than when you won the game.
“Yet, it only touches one.” You finished.
#ri writes#btas riddler x reader#btas edward nygma x reader#batman the animated series riddler x reader#batman the animated series edward nygma x reader
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