#they’re really just for practice & testing purposes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

5starluvr · 26 days ago

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Link to the request

Headcanon |

Pairing:skz(poly and individual) x reader

Genre:fluff,suggestive

Warning:hand kink,lap sitting ,suggestive

300 follower event

🐺 Boyfriend!Chan who…

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon. Sit. You know it helps me work.”

Boyfriend!Chan who lets you sit in his lap while producing, one hand on the mouse, the other tracing lazy circles on your thigh.

Boyfriend!Chan who doesn’t even flinch when you start playing with his fingers, just chuckles and murmurs, “You’re addicted, huh?”

Boyfriend!Chan who presses soft kisses to your knuckles mid-mix and acts like it’s nothing.

Boyfriend!Chan who keeps you grounded in his lap through long studio nights and tells you, “You’re my favorite distraction.”

Boyfriend!Chan who smirks if the members walk in, daring them to comment with a raised brow like, “Say something. I dare you.”

Boyfriend!Chan who catches you zoning out at his hands while he’s working and grins like the devil.

Boyfriend!Chan who flexes his knuckles and rubs his thumb over his bottom lip like he knows what he’s doing.

Boyfriend!Chan who leans into your ear and says, “You really like these hands, huh?” before dragging one slowly down your spine.

⸻

🐰 Boyfriend!Lee Know who…

“Come here. I need to cool down with my favorite reward.”

Boyfriend!Lee Know who finishes a brutal dance practice and immediately pulls you into his lap, still panting, still sweaty.

Boyfriend!Lee Know who’s fingers roam over your arms and chest while he watches you like a challenge.

Boyfriend!Lee Know who grips your hips and holds you still when you shift, voice low: “Trying to test my patience, baby?

Boyfriend!Lee Know who drags your hand down his neck and purrs, “You like what you feel?”

Boyfriend!Lee Know who smirks when you get flustered and whispers, “Don’t pretend you’re shy now.”

Boyfriend!Lee Know who notices you gulp every time he adjusts his rings.

Boyfriend!Lee Know who starts wearing them more, just so he can watch you squirm.

Boyfriend!Lee Know who grabs your throat gently and says, “You want them here or here?” while tapping your thighs with two fingers.

⸻

🐷Boyfriend!Changbin who…

“Lap’s ready, princess.”

Boyfriend!Changbin who flexes extra hard when you’re watching, soaking up the way you bite your lip.

Boyfriend!Changbin who finishes his last set, spreads his legs, and taps his lap like it’s your throne.

Boyfriend!Changbin who runs his hands up and down your thighs while you sit, practically purring with pride.

Boyfriend!Changbin who groans when you trace his arms and mumbles, “Bet you’re thinking about what these hands can do.”

Boyfriend!Changbin who flexes on purpose during gym selfies because he caught you zooming in.

Boyfriend!Changbin who loves grabbing things he doesn’t need help with just to show off grip strength.

Boyfriend!Changbin who grins when you get shy and says, “They’re not just for lifting, y’know.”

Boyfriend!Changbin keeps you trapped in his lap, grinning, “Sorry babe, gym’s over — now it’s just us.”

⸻

🦙 Boyfriend!Hyunjin who…

“You’re truly my muse.”

Boyfriend!Hyunjin who draws with you on his lap, sketchbook balanced behind your back, his fingers painting and teasing at once.

Boyfriend!Hyunjin who rests one hand on your waist and uses the other to shade, occasionally smudging you with charcoal on purpose.

Boyfriend!Hyunjin who watches your expression every time his knuckles brush a sensitive spot.

Boyfriend!Hyunjin who pauses mid-stroke and murmurs, “You’re more inspiring like this, squirmy and sweet.”

Boyfriend!Hyunjin who cups your jaw gently and kisses your palm, eyes full of trouble.

Boyfriend!Hyunjin who paints delicate lines with long, graceful fingers while side-eyeing your reaction.

Boyfriend!Hyunjin who casually drags his knuckles along your collarbone and murmurs, “Want me to sketch how you look when I touch you here?”

Boyfriend!Hyunjin who lets you hold his hand under the table — then slowly, purposefully slides his thumb back and forth over your palm while making deep eye contact.

⸻

🐿️Boyfriend!Han who…

“Babe. Come be my weighted blanket.”

Boyfriend!Han who pulls you into his lap while watching anime, hoodie soft and arms wide open.

Boyfriend!Han who absentmindedly slides his hands under your shirt like it’s second nature.

Boyfriend!Han who pretends to watch the screen while tracing your thigh with slow, warm fingertips.

Boyfriend!Han who kisses your fingers during commercial breaks and hums, “Better than the show, honestly.”

Boyfriend!Han smirks when you wriggle as he holds you in his lap and whispers, “Keep doing that and I’ll show you what my hands are really for.”

Boyfriend!Han who starts cracking his fingers every time you’re quiet.

Boyfriend!Han who says, “Don’t blame me if you can’t look at my hands without thinking about last night.”

Boyfriend!Han who grabs your hand in public and whispers, “Yours are shaking, baby. Why’s that?”

⸻

🐥Boyfriend!Felix who…

“You’re not distracting me, angel. You’re motivating me.”

Boyfriend!Felix who games with you in his lap, controller in one hand, you in the other.

Boyfriend!Felix who chuckles when you try to tease him by grinding lightly, only to get held tighter.

Boyfriend!Felix who lets you trace his hands while he plays and loses on purpose when you kiss his fingers.

Boyfriend!Felix who tosses the controller aside when you say his hands are unfairly pretty.

Boyfriend!Felix who wraps you in his arms and murmurs, “You can sit here forever if you want.”

Boyfriend!Felix who starts rubbing lotion into his hands in front of you way too slowly.

Boyfriend!Felix who presses his hands against your jaw, gentle and possessive, and says, “Soft for you. Always.”

Boyfriend!Felix who loves when you trace his fingers — and always whispers, “Want them inside you instead?”

⸻

🐶 Boyfriend!Seungmin who…

“You’re heavy. …I didn’t say get up.”

Boyfriend!Seungmin who acts unimpressed when you curl into his lap, but never pushes you away.

Boyfriend!Seungmin who keeps one arm hooked around you like he’s making sure you’re not going anywhere.

Boyfriend!Seungmin who raises a brow when you ogle his hands mid-scroll and goes, “Caught you staring. Again.”

Boyfriend!Seungmin who lets you lace your fingers with his and sighs like it’s an inconvenience, even though his grip tightens.

Boyfriend!Seungmin who deadpans, “Lap privilege revoked,” every time you tease him — but never actually enforces it.

Boyfriend!Seungmin who acts unbothered until he finds a pic you secretly took of his hands.

Boyfriend!Seungmin who teases you mercilessly: “Do you want me or just my fingers?”

Boyfriend!Seungmin who holds your wrists down and mutters, “Good thing I know how to use them, huh?”

⸻

🦊Boyfriend!Jeongin who…

“You’re not standing when my lap is right here. Rude.”

Boyfriend!Jeongin who starts off flustered when you cling to his lap, but quickly learns how to use it to his advantage.

Boyfriend!Jeongin who holds your hands gently in his, tilting his head when you stare at his fingers too long.

Boyfriend!Jeongin who smirks and rolls up his sleeves slowly just to watch your reaction.

Boyfriend!Jeongin who hums while running his hands over your thighs like he’s playing piano.

Boyfriend!Jeongin who is bashful when you first admit it — then becomes evil once he gets confident.

Boyfriend!Jeongin who wiggles his fingers and goes, “These ones? Or these ones?” while wagging both hands in front of you.

Boyfriend!Jeongin who leans into your ear and whispers, “Keep looking at my hands like that and I’ll make you regret it—in the best way.”

Boyfriend!Jeongin who rests his palm on your thigh in public and doesn’t move it for the entire evening.

⸻

Poly!Skz who…

poly!skz who figure out your kink within days. It starts innocent: lingering touches, long stares, the way your breath catches when one of them stretches their fingers or slides a hand across your back.

poly!skz who exchange a single look across the room one night — and you just know you’re in trouble.After that, it’s game on.

poly!skz who start flexing their hands constantly around you.Reaching overhead? Slow, deliberate. Cracking knuckles? Always right in your ear. Adjusting sleeves or rings? Suddenly a full performance.

poly!skz who let you sit in their laps like you’re their designated throne. Doesn’t matter who. Studio couch? One of them is patting their thigh before you can ask. Game night? They’re already pulling you down with a smirk. “You’re comfiest when you’re on one of us, baby.”

poly!skz who start a running joke: “Whose lap is it today?”They’ll call dibs. Rock-paper-scissors. You’ve walked into the room before and found three of them sitting with thighs spread, trying to tempt you over. (And it works. Every time.)

poly!skz who let you hold their hands just to watch your expression. Sometimes it’s innocent. Sometimes it’s absolutely not. They know the weight of your stare when someone’s fingers skim your thigh, or rub lazy circles into your palm.

poly!skz who smirk when you fidget in their lap but don’t move away.

“You like it here, huh?”

“Don’t act like you’re not waiting for one of us to start touching you.”

“Want all eight of us to hold you down with our hands, sweetheart?”

poly!skz who tease you relentlessly, but still get flustered when you casually say things like, “You have the prettiest hands I’ve ever seen.”Cue every single one of them pretending they’re not smirking like idiots for the next hour.

poly!skz who crowd around you when you’re sitting on someone’s lap and stretch their hands out like offerings.

“You’ve been on his lap all day, babe.”

“Switch it up. Mine’s warmer.”

“Don’t you want a turn with these hands?”

poly!skz who love that you crave touch more than anything. You want to sit with them. You want to feel them. It’s so tangible. So genuine.

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flutterlesbian · 7 days ago

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highschoolAU!jinx headcannons ♩

cw: sfw, mentions of vaping + weed, christina piercing, Silco cameos, also, I’m saying high school, but be aware I do mean British secondary schools (hopefully shouldn’t change much :p ), x reader near the end

wc: 1.5k + proofread

a/n: these hcs have been brewing teww long, artstudent! coming up next

♘ never wears her uniform correctly 😭 the skirts rolled up approx. 6 times, her shirts are CREASED and the blazer is never on (as it should be)

♞ does shit in class tests but amazing in actual exams— annoyingly smart, but doesn’t care to prove it 80% of the time

— her fave subject is chemistry, especially during practicals, she regrets choosing history gcse but it was too late to change, and the other three optional subjects she chose were computer science, art and music —

♘ buys fruit flavoured vapes from corner shops across the road & they’re always named the stupidest shits like ‘berry bucket vanilla cake twist’

— she never gets carded because her resting mean mug makes her look older than she is —

♞ one of those lucky people that lives 5 minutes from school, but always gets to school late on purpose to miss form times. comes in halfway through period 1

♞ if she’s chill with the teacher, she’ll come up with the most elaborate reasons as to why she’s late

—‘Sir, you don’t get it- there was a wrench on the road and it knocked me out! It was mine, but somebody threw it onto the road!’ —

— ‘Miss, sorry, but the fox was chasing me? And then it lead me into a Creams, and I couldn’t leave till I had a sundae, could I? —

♚.

♘ has a quiet but hyperactive mind: she won’t disturb classes intentionally, but she is constantly bouncing her leg, or her pen on a desk, humming the tune of an electro-beat song, or standing to throw away rubbish every 5-10 business minutes.

english teachers are the littlest sick of her, but her creative writing & analysis skills are amazing

♞ she knows each and every lyric to lil mariko’s songs and has the perfect, raspy voice to sing the songs down corridors, or mumble during classes

♘ her music teachers love her hyperactive mind though, music classes are one of the few times in the school day she can be unapologetically loud and concentrated. she’s either a violin player, or a pianist, chosen for silco’s love for classical music;

she started as recommended by a school counsellor in year 8. she prefers playing higher notes since they overtake the noise of her head more than low notes.

— for violin, her fave to perform would be a sped up version of ‘lord of the flies’ —

♞ as a pianist, she loves doing covers of OSTs because she’s a certified anime enjoyer (told me herself). specifically these songs from devilman crybaby (the only low note songs she likes)

because she is #mindful, she stuffs different stim toys and mini figurines of characters she likes in her pencil case to focus on & be less disruptive/more focused in classes. works 50% of the time

♚.

♘ wears black trainers to school instead of actual school shoes, but teachers didn’t notice for the first half of the year.

once they did, silco didn’t stop getting emails about it for the longest. eventually teachers gave up because he came to the office to defend (argue for) jinx. fake doctor’s note to top it off. teachers wanted no smoke 😓

♞ silco is still very much a drug lord, jinx gets a regulated supply of weed from silco, but the equivalent of the undercity is some scary place like croydon (londoner jinx 🦅)

♘ chronic loiterer!! will go to the park, 3 different chicken & chips shops, the bus stop in the opposite direction of her home, instead of just going home. to make it worse she’s probably in a really loud group of five terrorising the streets or at the back of the bus

♘ on the topic of being a loiterer, she permanently has a lighter in her blazer or bag, to smoke weed with a selected few after school at said parks

♞ regularly loses and finds her Oyster cards, since she does not care about going to school or back home in time. she’s sneaking onto the bus without tapping half the time anyways

♞ she’ll try tapping her card on the bus and be surprised it’s doesn’t work, but it was actually the card she thought she lost 2 weeks ago, and her new one is in the right breast pocket of her blazer (which she now believes she lost too)

♘ going back to the vapes thing, she once bought one of those vapes that have a screen and play music, that she would flex in between study periods and lunch times. it was def expensive as fuck, and she had to hide it from silco since she had no way of justifying the price. however, she lost it no more than a week after buying it, and has since never bought one like that since & sticks to the cheap ones

♚.

♞ goes out alll the way to central london to buy super expensive CBD lollipops every other weekend

♚.

♘ despite the rumours, she’s a loyal lucozade drinker, she refuses to drink any other energy drink because they give her too strong of an anxiety feeling after drinking. she was damn near upset when lucozade started losing popularity because it made it harder to find in store

(she 100% roams shops until she finds the one she wants) (litre bottles of the orange flavour (eww basic))

♞ at corner shops, her go to is 3 packs of the fruitiest flavoured gum, 2 chocolate bars, a pack of sweets (probably blueberry twist) and a bottle of ka fruit punch or fanta fruit twist

♚.

♘ in true high schooler fashion, she owns like 2 so…? and 2 victoria secret bottles of body mist BUT each and every one has been here stolen straight off some other girl’s desk because she doesn’t really see the need to go and buy her own perfumes BUT feels weird whenever someone asks nd she doesn’t have a body mist on her (susceptible to peer pressure in the weirdest ways)

♞ we know jinx loves finding and making trinkets but unfortunately the habit WILL spread to non-trinket items. meaning she willl pick up abandoned or lost lipglosses, bag charms, or even food, she finds around school. if you are dating you WILL have to ask if the gloss on her lips was bought or found before kissing her

♚.

♘ will flex to anybody and everybody how badly she wants a labia piercing when she turns 18. 90% of the time it’s for shock factor n shock factor only, but she really does want it, and plans on getting the weekend of her birthday

♚.

♞ constantly offers other students her hotspot because silco pays for wayyy more than she needs (even to youngers if they need to call a parent)

♘ she is just the weirdest, most helpful person ever. once people got used to it, they were more receptive to her randomly popping up behind them

♞ she took advantage of that fact once, and glitterbombed youngers a total of three times before she got in actual trouble for it, after school detention nd all

♚.

♘ for a-levels she chose chemistry, art, psychology and computer science. the school almost didn’t want to allow such a weird combo, but she’s a smart, capable student and the combo fit in the timetable so they had no reason to reject

♞ also she definitely stayed at the same at the same school for a-levels, because our girl hates change. last thing she needed was a new school layout, teachers/ teaching style, or route from home to learn for the first time

♛.

♘ in my mind, reader doesn’t get close to jinx until sixth form (a-levels) but has always shared 1-2 classes with jinx during gcses. maybe chemistry or art. she never picked on you, so you’d always watch her pranks happen in real-time on other people (wiping paint onto people, or pretending to draw on people’s paintings)

♞ in art classes, you’d see the exact moment she leans too far forward over her art peice, and her braid ends up in paint for the umpteenth time

♘ you only really start talking when you’re sat right next to each other in psychology. you’re oddly shy for a while, but jinx more than makes up for it

♞ she lives for watching you concentratedly write about biological explanations of psychology and biomarkers

♘ she’s using every free study period to talk to you, citing psychology homework as the reason

+ any half-days together? she’s spending them with you, even though you live in the opposite direction

♞ she’s learnt all your favourite sweets and drinks, and insists on buying them each time, even if you say it’s okay

♘ when she asks you out, it’s over a pack of sweets, specially with the ring shaped tangfasctic. she was so nervous about your response, but melted as soon as you agreed

♞ when she asks to be your girlfriend, you were so flustered, you got on the train and left before you actually responded

[full fic coming soon teehee]

a/n: do I have a british audience that wants to smooch jinx🧍‍♀️? (say yes anyways)

+ jinx would be a high school panini warrior confirmed

also her sweet tooth as fruity as she is, gd. I don’t make the rules tho (I did) 🤷‍♀️

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juuuulez · 1 year ago

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📋 | carmen berzatto nsfw alphabet.

don’t ask what possessed me today. it was definitely all the weed.

soo much nsfw under the cut….this is just paragraphs of porn.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act):

whatever ur carmy kink headcanons are i think we all agree that he’s really sweet afterwards :( he might suddenly get nervous or anxious and overthink everything you’ve done (“are you sure you’re alright?” “i know, i know, baby ‘m just.. i wanna take care of you, yeah?”) and you’ll have to assure him it’s okay! you loved it, he was perfect, he didn’t hurt you. he just wants some reassurance and then he’ll be finding you some water, a snack, whatever you need! (“just crackers? ‘cus i’ve got this new recipe, it’s a soup, i can make it—“ “nobody wants soup after sex, carm.”)

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers):

carmy doesn’t like many things about himself, initially.. until you’re quick to vocalise exactly how amazing he is. immediately, carmy is enamoured with just what he can do with his hands. his palm covering the entirety of your neck when you kiss, or how his fingers looked splayed over your hip. and fuck, his fingers! they’re really thick, and carmen secretly gets off on the fact that your fingers are so much smaller, so even alone, you’ll never be able to finger yourself as good, never be able to reach those spots that carmy touched with ease.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it):

let’s be so honest carmen berzatto marking kink is so real. it starts out as a practicality, pulling out to spill over your thighs, sticky white liquid that clung to your curves, and carmy found himself growing more aroused the longer he stared at it. now, even if you’re on the pill, carmy will pull out for the sole purpose of pumping his cum wherever he can, a physical reminder of what’s his, because despite all his flaws, you belong to him.

however, assuming carmy can hold back cumming well enough for this is bold, so it usually ends in covering your already sticky cunt and lower stomach in it.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory):

he jerked off with your panties once. it was near the start of your relationship, and carmen was so busy with the re-brand, he barely got to see you. so, one of the rare days he was over, he’d done some laundry for the both of you. and found some pink lace panties. and kept them. and, those nights he’d come home late and exhausted and slightly miserable, unable to call you for you were at home fast asleep, carmen.. used them to jerk off! sue him! he felt so guilty about it (poor baby) and admitted to it after a couple months of dating. he seemed so ashamed that you couldn’t help but go easy on the punishment… tying him to the bed and getting him off by only grinding over his swollen cock, wearing those same pink lace panties.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing):

of course he doesn’t. not properly, at least. carmy’s never had girlfriends, and maybe had a hook-up or two at fancy chef events in New York or Paris or wherever. nothing that mattered, at least. so this time, he’s careful and attentive. asking questions like he’s studying for a test, watching every single movement, every reaction. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was taking notes.

F= Favorite position:

ooof carmen definitely wants to see your face. he likes holding it in his big palms, whispering sweet words over your lips and swallowing your moans (“c’mon sweetheart, you can do it.. just one more for me, huh? fuck— your cunt fuckin’ wants it yeah? that’s it..”). probably missionary mostly, maybe he fucks you from behind one early-morning, his forehead pressed to your neck while the sun seeps in through the blinds.

G= Goofy (how serious are they):

not exactly serious, but he definitely gets into the zone. for him, sex isn’t casual, and it’s a time that means a lot to him. he’s choosing to be vulnerable for someone, and in turn, feels special that he’s allowed to see you like this. carmen can loose himself in the moment, his mind going uncharacteristically blank, too focused on the pure sensation and emotion connected with it. despite this, carmy can always be found gently tapping your cheek, pushing through the haze to ask “you with me, baby? feel good?”, because his pleasure only comes when you’re still into it.

H= Hair (grooming habits):

carmen doesn’t particularly allocate time to grooming down there, it’s not really a priority, unless his partner explicitly made it clear to him that was of interest. however, i don’t think carmy has the thickest of hair, just dark little curls in all the normal places. idk guys just thinking about shirtless lip…..he’s a pretty smooth guy.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty):

definitely depends. i wanna say a mix of both? when you’re into it carmen is so lovely, making sure to express how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. but private time doesn’t come around very often, so it’s usually instigated with a needy carmen coming home, exhausted from a long shift, his hands gripping at your waist before the words come out. his actions aren’t demanding at all, still gentle, but hurried and desperate to get inside your cunt.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often):

carmy is so a shower jerk person. i know guys i just know. he doesn’t like making a mess anywhere else, because it’s just an inconvenience, and cleaning the sheets or another shirt is just another useless task he doesn’t have time for. it’s rare he begins with the intention of jerking off, either. the hot shower melts away a day of tension, and carmen finds himself finally relaxing, finally tuning into his body, only to realise how much he needs this.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual):

we’ve already established the marking kink… and now listen 😝 i am a sub carmy truther guys! i can’t help it he’s so baby i need him to cry for me ;( but carmy definitely likes being bossed around, being told what to do, when he gets to cum.. it’s a change from being in control of literally everything, which most of the time carmen feels all he does falls apart, so he enjoys not having to think (which usually means second-guess and reconsider and debate and obsess).

L= Location (where they like to get it on):

every single carmen office quickie fic is SO SO SO SO SO SEXY they always have me foaming and barking like a rabid animal….however i’m gonna have to say his or your bed! he likes the idea of you being comfortable..bonus points for you guys probably fucking more often on the couch, since needy carmen can’t wait long enough to split you open :(

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons):

there are a variety of ways to get carmen in the mood, but his #1 is a confident partner who takes what they want. imagine carmy obsessing over the new menu, spending endless hours in the living room, papers and recipes and notes scattered over the table. you’ve barely gotten any attention all night, not necessarily in a needy way, just that this was supposed to be your night off together. the solution is actually quite easy: climbing onto the table, obscuring carmen’s vision of his work. before a protest can leave his lips, brows furrowed in confusion and slight distress, your hands are firmly pressing down on his shoulders. “you’re gonna eat me out, yeah? like you promised?” and he is DOWN on his knees, mind fucking short-circuiting, because suddenly there is nothing he’d rather do.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do):

carmen really doesn’t like seriously hurting you, so no intense spanking or choking. however i really love choking 🙄🙄 so i think he’d wrap his hand around your neck, his finger rubbing the hinge of your jaw, his warm palm a gentle assurance of the power he has without fully exercising it.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are):

pussy eating champ…carmen genuinely gets off on being able to make you feel good. his strong arms bracketing your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin, holding you to his mouth while his tongue fucks deep. carmy can’t help but rut against the mattress, hips hastily thrusting in tune to your moans, the swollen head of his dick rubbing against the sheets. “please, baby, please.. c’mon, just a little longer, please— i need it so fuckin’ bad.” he’ll cry into your cunt after your first orgasm, needing to eat your sopping pussy in order to cum.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed):

soft, grinding rolls of his hips against yours, holding your cunt against the base of his cock, letting your clit rub against his skin. carmen takes it slow, making sure to hit the spongy place right up inside you, the one that makes you cry and squirm.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard):

carmen prefers to take his time with it, but more often you find yourself hurriedly making love on the couch, bench, shower, maybe even his car. clothes scattered around the room, a bra on the chair, carmen’s boxers under the coffee table. he’ll take you wherever he can, whenever the time finally allows it, and he makes it deep and fast.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things):

anything you want, he’ll hear you out. carmen loves to learn, he wants to know everything that makes you tick, and will willingly absorb anything you have to teach. that’s not to say he isn’t nervous, as he finds himself always double-checking you’re still alright, asking if it still feels good.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts):

definitely a multiple rounds kinda guy. he can’t help it! the sight of you laying there, stripes of cum over your stomach and shiny slick on your thighs, carmen finds himself hard all over again. expect a round two, maybe three from him, and even then he’ll probably eat you out again.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers):

carmen doesn’t see the use for sex toys, since he’d much prefer to be the one providing you pleasure. definitely not fully opposed, though, he’ll fuck you long and slow with a vibrator on nights where he just wants to watch and study you.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves):

i 🩷 edging so carmen 🩷’s edging! carmy puts on this needy desperate front (“please, fuck, i need’a cum, ‘m not kidding.”) but there is NOTHING alike to carmy’s mind going completely blank after denying his third orgasm in a row, his cock swollen and throbbing with each pass of your hand, only for you to finally give him permission (“cum for me, carmy, i’ve got you.”)

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk):

think about the lowest, guttural moans you’ve ever heard. as carmen gets closer, they taper off into higher whines, soft whispers into your skin about how much he wants this.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort):

now, carmen does not take disrespect in the kitchen, and clearly doesn’t tolerate people talking back. but you? there’s a certain fire in his stomach, when you glare at him over the pass, or don’t back up whenever he gets into your personal space. if you stand your ground, firm and sure about whatever you’re doing, carmen feels himself fostering a growing mixture of respect and arousal.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants):

i just KNOW carmen is thick…the stretch seems impossible every time, his cock filling up every inch inside your hot cunt, while carmen whispers that it’s going to be alright, that you can take it.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level):

higher than carmen has time for. hence the jerking off in the shower, and fucking you on the couch. he’ll take anything that he can get, for he knows time isn’t on his side.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after):

carmy will ask you a hundred questions about how you’re feeling, if you need anything, what he can do, before finally settling in beside you. sometimes he’ll lay there for a few minutes, before dragging himself up, uttering some excuse about needing to revise the new menu. you’ll fuss, try and pull him back down, and he’ll fold almost instantly.

#the bear fx #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #the bear smut

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thealternateuniverse · 5 months ago

Text

Watch Your Attitude

Masterlist

Pairings: Mark Tuan x Reader

Word Count: 1,793 words

Warnings: Language, Smut

Hoho, this is my first time writing a smut. Don't come at me if it disappoints (I tried 😭). Plus, Mark reading his thirst tweets inspired me to create one right away.

------

You fucking hate Mark Tuan’s guts. He and his friends strut down the halls like they own the damn place, but to you? They look like a bunch of losers trying way too hard to be cool.

Every time they pass, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Except, one day, Mark catches you.

"Do you have a fucking problem?" His voice is sharp as he stalks toward you, hands tucked in his pockets.

Your brow arches as he closes the distance, arms folding over your chest. "No. Do you?" You don’t hesitate, chin held high.

The hallway stills. Students stop what they’re doing, eyes flicking between you and Mark, tension thick in the air.

"Come on, man. It's not worth it." JayB calls out, tugging at Mark’s arm.

You smirk. "Listen to your friend, Mr. Hotshot." You turn to leave, but before you can take a step, he leans in way too close.

"Watch your fucking attitude," he murmurs, voice low, almost teasing. "I'd love to see that when I bend you over."

A chill shoots down your spine. Heat creeps up your cheeks. Normally, a comment like that would earn him a slap, a sharp comeback but for some reason, your tongue is tied.

His smirk deepens. "Good girl," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin before he pulls away, turning back to his friends like he just won something.

And damn it, maybe he did.

-----

You're peacefully scrolling through your phone, a lollipop lazily resting between your lips, when a firm hand grabs your waist, yanking you into a dark, empty classroom.

"What the fuck—"

Before you can fully react, another hand presses against the back of your neck, guiding you forward until your hands brace against a desk. Your lollipop flying somewhere.

"Let me go before I kick your balls, Tuan," you snap, twisting slightly, but his grip is firm.

"Ooh, scary." His voice drips with amusement, low and taunting. "But tell me, princess, if you really wanted me to stop, wouldn't you be fighting a little harder?"

His fingers trail along your thigh, brushing the hem of your skirt, and you try not to react but he catches the way your breath hitches.

"Just what the fuck do you want?" you demand, your voice sharp. "And get your damn hands off me."

He chuckles, and somehow... the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

"Princess," he murmurs, "I told you before, I wanted to see that attitude when I bent you over. And guess what? You didn’t disappoint." He leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Now I want to see if you still have that bite when you're begging for more."

Your heart hammers against your ribs. You should push him away, tell him to fuck off but the worst part? You're not sure you want to.

When he lifts your skirt slightly, your breath catches. Your body betrays you, arching just enough to give him an invitation you shouldn't be offering.

"Careful, princess," he muses, his palm resting against the curve of your ass. "You're slipping out of character."

Before you can fire back, his hand comes down in a sharp, teasing smack. You gasp except what comes out isn’t a protest. It’s a sound you don’t mean to make.

His smirk is practically audible. "Oh? Was that a moan?"

Your breath catches when Mark’s fingers brush against you, teasing, testing. His touch is deliberate, like he’s savoring every reaction.

"Oh?" His voice is laced with amusement. "Good girl. Already this wet for me?"

You bite your lip, determined not to make a sound but the way he moves his fingers, slow and purposeful, makes it impossible to stay silent. A sharp inhale slips past your lips as he deepens his touch, pushing into you further into the moment.

"Tell me," he murmurs, his lips grazing your ear. "Did that turn you on?"

Your hips move instinctively, chasing the sensation. Just as you’re about to lose yourself, he stops.

A frustrated whine escapes you before you can stop it.

"Use your words, princess," he taunts.

Your pride wars with your need, but he's too good, and you both know it. He starts to pull away, and panic surges through you.

"Fuck—yes!" The words burst out before you can stop them. "I want more."

Mark chuckles, satisfied. "That’s more like it."

He picks up right where he left off, and this time, you don’t hold back. You don’t care who hears.

"I want the same energy when I’m inside you, princess," he murmurs, voice dark and commanding. "Keep moaning for me."

"Yes, Mark! Fuck, faster!"

The pressure builds, your grip tightening against the desk. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge, his voice cuts through the haze.

"Don't you fucking dare," he warns, grip tightening. "You'll come when I tell you to."

You hear the slow, deliberate sound of Mark unbuckling his belt, the soft rustle of fabric as he pushes his pants and boxers down. Curiosity wins over, and you glance back only for your breath to hitch at the sight of him.

Your eyes widen. Oh.

Mark catches you staring, and a slow smirk spreads across his lips. "What's wrong, princess? Not so mouthy now, huh?"

He steps closer, the heat radiating from him making your skin prickle with anticipation. You swallow hard, instinctively tensing as you feel him against you, teasing, testing your limits.

"Let's see if you still have that attitude," he murmurs, voice low and taunting.

You gasp at the sensation, your grip on the desk tightening. Every nerve in your body is on edge, torn between anticipation and the undeniable intensity of the moment.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips. The tension between pleasure and challenge hangs thick in the air, pushing you further into the moment.

A sharp, unrestrained moan escapes your lips, nails digging into the wood beneath your palms.

"Fuck, Mark!"

His grip tightens. "That's right, princess. Keep saying my name."

He moves, slow at first, teasing, testing before finding a rhythm that leaves you breathless. All you can do is cling to the desk, moaning like a mess, lost in the sensation.

"Fuck you, Mark Tuan!" you manage to gasp, though your voice betrays you, laced with something dangerously close to surrender.

Mark chuckles, his grip tightening. "Oh, princess," he taunts, his breath hot against your skin. "That's exactly what you're getting."

His hand moves, fingers pressing against you just right, and suddenly, the tension inside you snaps. A sharp cry escapes your lips as pleasure crashes through you, leaving you trembling beneath him.

Mark follows seconds after, releasing his load inside you, his grip tightening as he groans low in satisfaction, his breath warm against your shoulder.

You nod frantically, barely able to form words, lost in the overwhelming sensation.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy rhythm of your breathing, the lingering heat between you still crackling like electricity in the air. Then, finally, he leans in, lips brushing against your ear.

"Good girl," he murmurs, smug and satisfied.

And damn it, you don't even have the energy to argue.

Once Mark is fully dressed, belt buckled, he turns back to you. Without a word, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief to clean you up, wiping away the mess on your thigh. You watch, still catching your breath, as he casually tucks it back into his pocket like it’s nothing.

"That’s nasty," you mutter, fixing your hair.

He chuckles. "I’m gonna frame it in my room."

You wince. That’s disgusting. And yet... kind of hot?

Before you can dwell on that thought, he steps closer, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The unexpected softness throws you off, but what really shocks you is what he says next.

"Come on, let’s eat. I’ll buy you another lollipop." A smirk tugs at his lips. "I get turned on watching you have it in your mouth."

Before you can respond, he leans in, pressing a quick peck on your lips—then another on your cheek. Your brain short-circuits.

"Wait—" You blink at him, trying to process. "Is this you asking me out?"

Mark smirks. "If it weren’t for that attitude of yours, I might’ve asked you properly. But this isn’t bad, I guess."

A chuckle slips past your lips as you shake your head, but you don’t pull away when he grabs your hand. Instead, you let him lead you out of the abandoned classroom like it’s the most normal thing in the world as if he hadn’t just bent you over that desk five minutes ago.

Just what the hell happened?

Stepping into the hallway, you barely take two steps before you run into Yugyeom and Bambam. They stop dead in their tracks, eyes wide, jaws practically on the floor.

Mark shoots them a glare, and they immediately look away but not before you hear Yugyeom whisper to Bambam, "They both smell like sex."

Your eye twitches.

"They must’ve done it in that poor classroom," Bambam replies, shaking his head like he’s disappointed.

You roll your eyes. "You know I can hear you, right?"

Mark squeezes your hand. "Ignore them."

"I am."

But just as you think you’re in the clear, Mark suddenly stops walking. You nearly crash into his back.

He glances over his shoulder, and with that damn smirk still on his lips, he says, "Man, you really need to keep that attitude in check."

Your mouth drops open, realization hitting you like a freight train.

Oh, he’s really gonna fuck your attitude out.

#aghase #bambam #choi youngjae #got7 #got7 fanfic #igot7 #jayb #kim yugyeom #mark tuan #got7 x reader #mark tuan x reader #Mark Yi-en Tuan #got7 mark #got7 jinyoung #got7 jackson #jackson wang #got7 fiction #got7 fanfiction

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demigod-shenanigans · 11 months ago

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Some stupid thoughts about Valgrace and Fierrochase meeting that I had a while ago:

-No idea how well Alex actually speaks Spanish because we only hear him speak it once very briefly at the beginning of the third book but the thought of Alex and Leo rambling rapid-fire Spanish at each other and everyone promptly ducking in the other direction is extremely amusing to me (Jason leaves to get a med kit. Magnus leaves and doesn’t come back because he may be a healer but he’s not getting in the middle of whatever this is, thanks)

-someone carefully goes into Alex’s room later to check what the two of them are up to. It turns out they’re not even doing anything dangerous, they’re just testing if Leo’s fire powers can be misused for clay firing purposes

-Something something Alex Magnus and Leo all being former homeless kids who are now working to help other homeless kids.

-Leo has definitely at one point had a conversation with Magnus that involved stuff like “top five worst bridges to sleep under”

-Magnus being incredibly afraid of wolves. Jason being raised by wolves. I bet that would lead to some very awkward and funny interactions.

-Thinking primarily of a scene where they’re on a mission of some kind and Jason just snarls at whatever wolf they’re dealing with until it backs off. Alex and Magnus have no idea what just happened. Magnus is terrified of Jason when he makes that expression but also wants to keep the human wolf repellant around forever please and thank you.

-On a similar note, Jason trying to teach Alex that specific wolf scowl. Alex is shape-shifted into a wolf and tries to get it right but cannot quite manage. Jason keeps saying stuff like “show off your fangs more” and “jaw a little more like this” except he’s fully human so Alex has a really hard time trying to translate what Jason is doing into the actual animal features. They spend like an hour just practice scowling at each other. Leo walks into the room at one point and is extremely confused and also a little afraid to ask

-Alex and Magnus absolutely casually kill each other during training exercises sometimes. Leo and Jason would literally never, even knowing they’ll resurrect just fine later if they do. Both couples think the others are the ones being weird.

Tagging @helyeahmangocheese (I hope this is okay) since this post had been sitting around in my drafts collecting dust for ages before your AU shenanigans made me think of it again. (If you want to use any of this please feel free to)

#valgrace #fierrochase #jason grace #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #hoo #mcga #Magnus chase #Alex Fierro #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #leo x jason #jason x leo #alex x magnus

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dr-litcrit · 3 days ago

Text

Nick in Margaret Atwood’s Canon: Every Appearance, Word for Word

THE HANDMAID’S TALE

CHAPTER THREE

A Guardian detailed to the Commander does the heavy digging; the Commander's Wife directs, pointing with her stick.

CHAPTER FOUR

I open the white picket gate and continue, past the front lawn and towards the front gate. In the driveway, one of the Guardians assigned to our household is washing the car. That must mean the Commander is in the house, in his own quarters, past the dining room and beyond, where he seems to stay most of the time.

The car is a very expensive one, a Whirlwind; better than the Chariot, much better than the chunky, practical Behemoth. It's black, of course, the color of prestige or a hearse, and long and sleek. The driver is going over it with a chamois, lovingly.

This at least hasn't changed, the way men caress good cars.

He's wearing the uniform of the Guardians, but his cap is tilted at a jaunty angle and his sleeves are rolled to the elbow, showing his forearms, tanned but with a stipple of dark hairs, He has a cigarette stuck in the corner of his mouth, which shows that he too has something he can trade on the black market.

I know this man's name: Nick. I know this because I've heard Rita and Cora talking about him, and once I heard the Commander speaking to him: Nick, I won't be needing the car.

He lives here, in the household, over the garage. Low status: he hasn't been issued a woman, not even one. He doesn't rate: some defect, lack of connections.

But he acts as if he doesn't know this, or care, He's too casual, he's not servile enough. It may be stupidity, but I don't think so. Smells fishy, they used to say; or, I smell a rat. Misfit as odor. Despite myself, I think of how he might smell. Not fish or decaying rat; tanned skin, moist in the sun, filmed with smoke. I sigh, inhaling.

He looks at me, and sees me looking. He has a French face, lean, whimsical, all planes and angles, with creases around the mouth where he smiles. He takes a final puff of the cigarette, lets it drop to the driveway, and steps on it. He begins to whistle.

Then he winks.

I drop my head and turn so that the white wings hide my face, and keep walking.

He's just taken a risk, but for what? What if I were to report him?

Perhaps he was merely being friendly. Perhaps he saw the look on my face and mistook it for something else. Really what I wanted was the cigarette.

Perhaps it was a test, to see what I would do. Perhaps he is an Eye.

(...)

The Guardians aren’t real soldiers. Theyre used for routine policing and other menial functions, digging up the Commander’s Wife’s garden for instance, and they’re either stupid or older or disabled or very young, apart from the ones that are Eyes incognito.

(...)

(...) because none of this is the faul of these men, they´re too young.

CHAPTER EIGHT

In the driveway, Nick is polishing the Whirlwind again. He’s reached the chrome at the back. I put my gloved hand on the latch of the gate, open it, push inward. The gate clicks behind me. The tulips along the border are redder than ever, opening, no longer winecups but chalices; thrusting themselves up, to what end? They are, after all, empty. When they are old they turn themselves inside out, then explode slowly, the petals thrown out like shards.

Nick looks up and begins to whistle. Then he says, “Nice walk?”

I nod, but do not answer with my voice. He isn’t supposed to speak to me.

CHAPTER TEN

The Commander stoops, gets into the car, disappears, and Nick shuts the door. A moment later the car moves backwards, down the driveway and onto the street, and vanishes behind the hedge.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Nick walks in, nods to all three of us, looks around the room. He too takes his place behind me, standing. He’s so close that the tip of his boot is touching my foot. Is this on purpose? Whether it is or not we are touching, two shapes of leather. I feel my shoe soften, blood flows into it, it grows warm, it becomes a skin. I move my foot slightly, away.

“Wish he’d hurry up,” says Cora.

“Hurry up and wait,” says Nick. He laughs, moves his foot so it’s touching mine again. No one can see, beneath the folds of my outspread skirt. I shift, it’s too warm in here, the smell of stale perfume makes me feel a little sick. I move my foot away.

We hear Serena coming, down the stairs, along the hall, the muffled tap of her cane on the rug, thud of the good foot. She hobbles through the doorway, glances at us, counting but not seeing. She nods, at Nick, but says nothing.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

But there’s someone in the room, behind me.

I hear the step, quiet as mine, the creaking of the same floorboard.

The door closes behind me, with a little click, cutting the light. I freeze: white was a mistake. I’m snow in moonlight, even in the dark.

Then a whisper: “Don’t scream. It’s all right.”

As if I’d scream, as if it’s all right. I turn: a shape, that’s all, dull glint of cheekbone, devoid of colour.

He steps towards me. Nick.

“What are you doing in here?”

I don’t answer. He too is illegal, here, with me, he can’t give me away.

Nor I him; for the moment we’re mirrors. He puts his hand on my arm, pulls me against him, his mouth on mine, what else comes from such denial? Without a word. Both of us shaking, how I’d like to. In Serena’s parlour, with the dried flowers, on the Chinese carpet, his thin body. A man entirely unknown. It would be like shouting, it would be like shooting someone. My hand goes down, how about that, I could unbutton, and then. But it’s too dangerous, he knows it, we push each other away, not far. Too much trust, too much risk, too much already.

“I was coming to find you,” he says, breathes, almost into my ear. I want to reach up, taste his skin, he makes me hungry. His fingers move, feeling my arm under the nightgown sleeve, as if his hand won’t listen to reason. It’s so good, to be touched by someone, to be felt so greedily, to feel so greedy. Luke, you’d know, you’d understand. It’s you here, in another body.

Bullshit.

“Why?” I say. Is it so bad, for him, that he’d take the risk of coming to my room at night? I think of the hanged men, hooked on the Wall. I can hardly stand up. I have to get away, back to the stairs, before I dissolve entirely. His hand’s on my shoulder now, held still, heavy, pressing down on me like warm lead. Is this what I would die for? I’m a coward, I hate the thought of pain.

“He told me to,” Nick says. “He wants to see you. In his office.”

“What do you mean?” I say. The Commander, it must be. See me?

What does he mean by see? Hasn’t he had enough of me?

“Tomorrow,” he says, just audible. In the dark parlour we move away from each other, slowly, as if pulled towards each other by a force, current, pulled apart also by hands equally strong.

I find the door, turn the knob, fingers on cool porcelain, open. It’s all I can do.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I visit the Commander two or three nights a week, always after dinner, but only when I get the signal. The signal is Nick. If he’s polishing the car when I set out for the shopping, or when I come back, and if his hat is on askew or not on at all, then I go. If he isn’t there or if he has his hat on straight, then I stay in my room in the ordinary way. On Ceremony nights, of course, none of this applies.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Someone has come out of the house. I hear the distant closing of a door, around at the side, footsteps on the walk. It’s Nick, I can see him now; he’s stepped off the path, onto the lawn, to breathe in the humid air which stinks of flowers, of pulpy growth, of pollen thrown into the wind in handfuls, like oyster spawn into the sea. All this prodigal breeding. He stretches in the sun, I feel the ripple of muscles go along him, like a cat’s back arching. He’s in his shirt sleeves, bare arms sticking shamelessly out from the rolled cloth. Where does the tan end? I haven’t spoken to him since that one night, dreamscape in the moon-filled sitting room. He’s only my flag, my semaphore. Body language.

Right now his cap’s on sideways. Therefore I am sent for.

What does he get for it, his role as page boy? How does he feel, pimping in this ambiguous way for the Commander? Does it fill him with disgust, or make him want more of me, want me more? Because he has no idea what really goes on in there, among the books. Acts of perversion, for all he knows. The Commander and me, covering each other with ink, licking it off, or making love on stacks of forbidden newsprint. Well, he wouldn’t be far off at that.

But depend on it, there’s something in it for him. Everyone’s on the take, one way or another. Extra cigarettes? Extra freedoms, not allowed to the general run? Anyway, what can he prove? It’s his word against the Commander’s, unless he wants to head a posse. Kick in the door, and what did I tell you? Caught in the act, sinfully Scrabbling. Quick, eat those words.

Maybe he just likes the satisfaction of knowing something secret. Of having something on me, as they used to say. It’s the kind of power you can use only once.

I would like to think better of him.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Down there on the lawn, someone emerges from the spill of darkness under the willow, steps across the light, his long shadow attached sharply to his heels. Is it Nick, or is it someone else, someone of no importance? He stops, looks up at this window, and I can see the white oblong of his face. Nick. We look at each other. I have no rose to toss, he has no lute. But it’s the same kind of hunger.

Which I can’t indulge. I pull the left-hand curtain so that it falls between us, across my face, and after a moment he walks on, into the invisibility around the corner.

What the Commander said is true. One and one and one and one doesn’t equal four. Each one remains unique, there is no way of joining them together. They cannot be exchanged, one for the other. They cannot replace each other. Nick for Luke or Luke for Nick. Should does not apply.

You can’t help what you feel, Moira said once, but you can help how you behave.

Which is all very well.

Context is all; or is it ripeness? One or the other.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

There’s Nick, hat askew; today he doesn’t even look at me. He must have been waiting around for me though, to deliver his silent message, because as soon as he knows I’ve seen him he gives the Whirlwind one last swipe with the chamois and walks briskly off towards the garage door.

(...)

“Your time’s running out,” she says. Not a question, a matter of fact.

“Yes,” I say neutrally.

She’s lighting another cigarette, fumbling with the lighter. Definitely her hands are getting worse. But it would be a mistake to offer to do it for her, she’d be offended. A mistake to notice weakness in her.

“Maybe he can’t,” she says.

I don’t know who she means. Does she mean the Commander, or God?

If it’s God, she should say won’t. Either way it’s heresy. It’s only women who can’t, who remain stubbornly closed, damaged, defective.

“No,” I say. “Maybe he can’t.”

I look up at her. She looks down. It’s the first time we’ve looked into each other’s eyes in a long time. Since we met. The moment stretches out between us, bleak and level. She’s trying to see whether or not I’m up to reality.

“Maybe,” she says, holding the cigarette, which she has failed to light.

“Maybe you should try it another way.”

Does she mean on all fours? “What other way?” I say. I must keep serious.

“Another man,” she says.

“You know I can’t,” I say, careful not to let my irritation show. “It’s against the law. You know the penalty.”

“Yes,” she says. She’s ready for this, she’s thought it through. “I know you can’t officially. But it’s done. Women do it frequently. All the time.”

“With doctors, you mean?” I say, remembering the sympathetic brown eyes, the gloveless hand. The last time I went it was a different doctor.

Maybe someone caught the other one out, or a woman reported him. Not that they’d take her word, without evidence.

“Some do that,” she says, her tone almost affable now, though distanced; it’s as if we’re considering a choice of nail polish. “That’s how Ofwarren did it. The wife knew, of course.” She pauses to let this sink in.

“I would help you. I would make sure nothing went wrong.”

I think about this. “Not with a doctor,” I say.

“No,” she agrees, and for this moment at least we are cronies, this could be a kitchen table, it could be a date we’re discussing, some girlish stratagem of ploys and flirtation. “Sometimes they blackmail. But it doesn’t have to be a doctor. It could be someone we trust.”

“Who?” I say.

“I was thinking of Nick,” she says, and her voice is almost soft. “He’s been with us a long time. He’s loyal. I could fix it with him.”

So that’s who does her little black-market errands for her. Is this what he always gets, in return?

“What about the Commander?” I say.

“Well,” she says, with firmness; no, more than that, a clenched look, like a purse snapping shut. “We just won’t tell him, will we?”

This idea hangs between us, almost visible, almost palpable: heavy, formless, dark; collusion of a sort, betrayal of a sort. She does want that baby.

“It’s a risk,” I say. “More than that.” It’s my life on the line; but that’s where it will be sooner or later, one way or another, whether I do or don’t. We both know this.

“You might as well,” she says. Which is what I think too.

“All right,” I say. “Yes.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Through the tunnel made by the hood I can see the back of Nick’s head. His hat is on straight, he’s sitting up straight, his neck is straight, he is all very straight. His posture disapproves of me, or am I imagining it? Does he know what I’ve got on under this cloak, did he procure it? And if so, does this make him angry or lustful or envious or anything at all? We do have something in common: both of us are supposed to be invisible, both of us are functionaries. I wonder if he knows this. When he opened the door of the car for the Commander, and, by extension, for me, I tried to catch his eye, make him look at me, but he acted as if he didn’t see me.

Why not? It’s a soft job for him, running little errands, doing little favours, and there’s no way he’d want to jeopardize it.

The checkpoints are no problem, everything goes as smoothly as the Commander said it would, despite the heavy pounding, the pressure of blood in my head. Chickenshit, Moira would say.

Past the second checkpoint, Nick says, “Here, Sir?” and the Commander says “Yes.”

The car pulls over and the Commander says, “Now I’ll have to ask you to get down onto the floor of the car.”

“Down?” I say.

“We have to go through the gateway,” he says, as if this means something to me. I tried to ask him where we were going, but he said he wanted to surprise me. “Wives aren’t allowed.”

So I flatten myself and the car starts again, and for the next few minutes I see nothing. Under the cloak it’s stifling hot. It’s a winter cloak, not a cotton summer one, and it smells of mothballs. He must have borrowed it from storage, knowing she wouldn’t notice. He has considerately moved his feet to give me room. Nevertheless my forehead is against his shoes. I have never been this close to his shoes before.

They feel hard, unwinking, like the shells of beetles: black, polished, inscrutable. They seem to have nothing to do with feet.

We pass through another checkpoint. I hear the voices, impersonal, deferential, and the window rolling electrically down and up for the passes to be shown. This time he won’t show mine, the one that’s supposed to be mine, as I’m no longer in official existence, for now.

Then the car starts and then it stops again, and the Commander is helping me up.

“We’ll have to be fast,” he says. “This is a back entrance. You should leave the cloak with Nick. On the hour, as usual,” he says to Nick. So this too is something he’s done before.

He helps me out of the cloak; the car door is opened. I feel air on my almost bare skin, and realize I’ve been sweating. As I turn to shut the car door behind me I can see Nick looking at me through the glass. He sees me now. Is it contempt I read, or indifference, is this merely what he expected of me?

CHAPTER FORTY

I reach the top of the stairs, knock on the door there. He opens it himself, who else was I expecting? There’s a lamp on, only one but enough light to make me blink. I look past him, not wanting to meet his eyes. It’s a single room, with a fold-out bed, made up, and a kitchenette counter at the far end, and another door that must lead to the bathroom.

This room is stripped down, military, minimal. No pictures on the walls, no plants. He’s camping out. The blanket on the bed is grey and says U.S.

He steps back and aside to let me past. He’s in his shirt sleeves, and is holding a cigarette, lit. I smell the smoke on him, in the warm air of the room, all over. I’d like to take off my clothes, bathe in it, rub it over my skin.

No preliminaries; he knows why I’m here. He doesn’t even say anything, why fool around, it’s an assignment. He moves away from me, turns off the lamp. Outside, like punctuation, there’s a flash of lightning; almost no pause and then the thunder. He’s undoing my dress, a man made of darkness, I can’t see his face, and I can hardly breathe, hardly stand, and I’m not standing. His mouth is on me, his hands, I can’t wait and he’s moving, already, love, it’s been so long, I’m alive in my skin, again, arms around him, falling and water softly everywhere, neverending.

I knew it might only be once.

I made that up. It didn’t happen that way. Here is what happened.

I reach the top of the stairs, knock on the door. He opens it himself.

There’s a lamp on; I blink. I look past his eyes, it’s a single room, the bed’s made up, stripped down, military. No pictures but the blanket says U.S. He’s in his shirt sleeves, he’s holding a cigarette.

“Here,” he says to me, “have a drag.” No preliminaries, he knows why I’m here. To get knocked up, to get in trouble, up the pole, those were all names for it once. I take the cigarette from him, draw deeply in, hand it back. Our fingers hardly touch. Even that much smoke makes me dizzy.

He says nothing, just looks at me, unsmiling. It would be better, more friendly, if he would touch me. I feel stupid and ugly, although I know I am not either. Still, what does he think, why doesn’t he say something?

Maybe he thinks I’ve been slutting around, at Jezebel’s, with the Commander or more. It annoys me that I’m even worrying about what he thinks. Let’s be practical.

“I don’t have much time,” I say. This is awkward and clumsy, it isn’t what I mean.

“I could just squirt it into a bottle and you could pour it in,” he says.

He doesn’t smile.

“There’s no need to be brutal,” I say. Possibly he feels used. Possibly he wants something from me, some emotion, some ackowledgement that he too is human, is more than just a seedpod. “I know it’s hard for you,”

I try.

He shrugs. “I get paid,” he says, punk surliness. But still makes no move.

I get paid, you get laid, I rhyme in my head. So that’s how we’re going to do it. He didn’t like the makeup, the spangles. We’re going to be tough.

“You come here often?”

“And what’s a nice girl like me doing in a spot like this,” I reply. We both smile: this is better. This is an acknowledgement that we are acting, for what else can we do in such a setup?

“Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.” We’re quoting from late movies, from the time before. And the movies then were from a time before that: this sort of talk dates back to an era well before our own.

Not even my mother talked like that, not when I knew her. Possibly nobody ever talked like that in real life, it was all a fabrication from the beginning. Still, it’s amazing how easily it comes back to mind, this corny and falsely gay sexual banter. I can see now what it’s for, what it was always for: to keep the core of yourself out of reach, enclosed, protected.

I’m sad now, the way we’re talking is infinitely sad: faded music, faded paper flowers, worn satin, an echo of an echo. All gone away, no longer possible. Without warning I begin to cry.

At last he moves forward, puts his arms around me, strokes my back, holds me that way, for comfort.

“Come on,” he says. “We haven’t got much time.” With his arm around my shoulders he leads me over to the fold-out bed, lies me down.

He even turns down the blanket first. He begins to unbutton, then to stroke, kisses beside my ear. “No romance,” he says. “Okay?”

That would have meant something else, once. Once it would have meant: no strings. Now it means: no heroics. It means: don’t risk yourself for me, if it should come to that.

And so it goes. And so.

I knew it might only be once. Goodbye, I thought, even at the time, goodbye.

There wasn’t any thunder though, I added that in. To cover up the sounds, which I am ashamed of making.

It didn’t happen that way either. I’m not sure how it happened; not exactly. All I can hope for is a reconstruction: the way love feels is always only approximate.

Partway through, I thought about Serena Joy, sitting down there in the kitchen. Thinking: cheap. They’ll spread their legs for anyone. All you need to give them is a cigarette.

And I thought afterwards: this is a betrayal. Not the thing itself but my own response. If I knew for certain he was dead, would that make a difference?

I would like to be without shame. I would like to be shameless. I would like to be ignorant. Then I would not know how ignorant I was.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

This is the story, then.

I went back to Nick. Time after time, on my own, without Serena knowing. It wasn’t called for, there was no excuse. I did not do it for him, but for myself entirely. I didn’t even think of it as giving myself to him, because what did I have to give? I did not feel munificent, but thankful, each time he would let me in. He didn’t have to.

In order to do this I became reckless, I took stupid chances. After being with the Commander I would go upstairs in the usual way, but then I would go along the hall and down the Marthas’ stairs at the back and through the kitchen. Each time I would hear the kitchen door click shut behind me and I would almost turn back, it sounded so metallic, like a mousetrap or a weapon, but I would not turn back. I would hurry across the few feet of illuminated lawn, the searchlights were back on again, expecting at any moment to feel the bullets rip through me even in advance of their sound. I would make my way by touch up the dark staircase and come to rest against the door, the thud of blood in my ears.

Fear is a powerful stimulant. Then I would knock softly, a beggar’s knock. Each time I would expect him to be gone; or worse, I would expect him to say I could not come in. He might say he wasn’t going to break any more rules, put his neck in the noose, for my sake. Or even worse, tell me he was no longer interested. His failure to do any of these things I experienced as the most incredible benevolence and luck.

I told you it was bad.

Here is how it goes.

He opens the door. He’s in his shirt sleeves, his shirt untucked, hanging loose; he’s holding a toothbrush, or a cigarette or a glass with something in it. He has his own little stash up here, black-market stuff I suppose. He’s always got something in his hand, as if he’s been going about his life as usual, not expecting me, not waiting. Maybe he doesn’t expect me, or wait. Maybe he has no notion of the future, or does not bother or dare to imagine it.

“Is it too late?” I say.

He shakes his head for no. It is understood between us by now that it is never too late, but I go through the ritual politeness of asking. It makes me feel more in control, as if there is a choice, a decision that could be made one way or the other. He steps aside and I move past him and he closes the door. Then he crosses the room and closes the window.

After that he turns out the light. There is not much talking between us any more, not at this stage. Already I am half out of my clothes. We save the talking for later.

With the Commander I close my eyes, even when I am only kissing him goodnight. I do not want to see him up close. But now, here, each time, I keep my eyes open. I would like a light on somewhere, a candle perhaps, stuck into a bottle, some echo of college, but anything like that would be too great a risk; so I have to make do with the searchlight, the glow of it from the grounds below, filtered through his white curtains which are the same as mine. I want to see what can be seen, of him, take him in, memorize him, save him up so I can live on the image, later: the lines of his body, the texture of his flesh, the glisten of sweat on his pelt, his long sardonic unrevealing face. I ought to have done that with Luke, paid more attention, to the details, the moles and scars, the singular creases; I didn’t and he’s fading. Day by day, night by night he recedes, and I become more faithless.

For this one I’d wear pink feathers, purple stars, if that were what he wanted; or anything else, even the tail of a rabbit. But he does not require such trimmings. We make love each time as if we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there will never be any more, for either of us, with anyone, ever. And then when there is, that too is always a surprise, extra, a gift.

Being here with him is safety; it’s a cave, where we huddle together while the storm goes on outside. This is a delusion, of course. This room is one of the most dangerous places I could be. If I were caught there would be no quarter, but I’m beyond caring. And how have I come to trust him like this, which is foolhardy in itself? How can I assume I know him, or the least thing about him and what he really does?

I dismiss these uneasy whispers. I talk too much. I tell him things I shouldn’t. I tell him about Moira, about Ofglen; not about Luke though. I want to tell him about the woman in my room, the one who was there before me, but I don’t. I’m jealous of her. If she’s been here before me too, in this bed, I don’t want to hear about it.

I tell him my real name, and feel that therefore I am known. I act like a dunce. I should know better. I make of him an idol, a cardboard cutout.

He on the other hand talks little: no more hedging or jokes. He barely asks questions. He seems indifferent to most of what I have to say, alive only to the possibilities of my body, though he watches me while I’m speaking. He watches my face.

Impossible to think that anyone for whom I feel such gratitude could betray me.

Neither of us says the word love, not once. It would be tempting fate; it would be romance, bad luck.

(...)

But the Commander is no longer of immediate interest to me. I have to make an effort to keep my indifference towards him from showing.

Keep on doing everything exactly the way you were before, Nick says.

Don’t change anything. Otherwise they’ll know. He kisses me, watching me all the time. Promise? Don’t slip up.

I put his hand on my belly. It’s happened, I say. I feel it has. A couple of weeks and I’ll be certain.

This I know is wishful thinking.

He’ll love you to death, he says. So will she.

But it’s yours, I say. It will be yours, really. I want it to be.

We don’t pursue this, however.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Nobody moves forward. The women are looking at him with horror; as if he’s a half-dead rat dragging itself across a kitchen floor. He’s squinting around at us, the circle of red women. One corner of his mouth moves up, incredible – a smile?

I try to look inside him, inside the trashed face, see what he must really look like. I think he’s about thirty. It isn’t Luke.

But it could have been, I know that. It could be Nick. I know that whatever he’s done I can’t touch him.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

I go out the back door, along the path. Nick is washing the car, his hat on sideways. He doesn’t look at me. We avoid looking at each other, these days. Surely we’d give something away by it, even out here in the open, with no one to see.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Dear God, I think, I will do anything you like. Now that you’ve let me off, I’ll obliterate myself, if that’s what you really want; I’ll empty myself, truly, become a chalice. I’ll give up Nick, I’ll forget about the others, I’ll stop complaining. I’ll accept my lot. I’ll sacrifice. I’ll repent.

I’ll abdicate. I’ll renounce.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

“Pick up that disgusting thing and get to your room. Just like the other one. A slut.

You’ll end up the same.”

I stoop, gather. Behind my back Nick has stopped whistling.

I want to turn, run to him, throw my arms around him. This would be foolish. There is nothing he can do to help. He too would drown.

I walk to the back door, into the kitchen, set down my basket, go upstairs. I am orderly and calm.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

I could walk at a steady pace down the stairs and out the front door and along the street, trying to look as if I knew where I was going, and see how far I could get. Red is so visible.

I could go to Nick’s room, over the garage, as we have done before. I could wonder whether or not he would let me in, give me shelter. Now that the need is real.

(...)

I expect a stranger, but it’s Nick who pushes open the door, flicks on the light. I can’t place that, unless he’s one of them. There was always that possibility. Nick, the private Eye. Dirty work is done by dirty people.

You shit, I think. I open my mouth to say it, but he comes over, close to me, whispers.

“It’s all right. It’s Mayday. Go with them.” He calls me by my real name. Why should this mean anything?

“Them?” I say. I see the two men standing behind him, the overhead light in the hallway making skulls of their heads. “You must be crazy.”

My suspicion hovers in the air above him, a dark angel warning me away. I can almost see it. Why shouldn’t he know about Mayday? All the Eyes must know about it; they’ll have squeezed it, crushed it, twisted it out of enough bodies, enough mouths by now.

“Trust me,” he says; which in itself has never been a talisman, carries no guarantee.

But I snatch at it, this offer. It’s all I’m left with.

One in front, one behind, they escort me down the stairs. The pace is leisurely, the lights are on. Despite the fear, how ordinary it is. From here I can see the clock. It’s no time in particular.

Nick is no longer with us. He may have gone down the back stairs, not wishing to be seen.

HISTORICAL NOTES

As for the subversive Waterford was accused of harbouring, this could have been “Offred” herself, as her flight would have placed her in this category. More likely it was “Nick,” who, by the evidence of the very existence of the tapes, must have helped “Offred” to escape. The way in which he was able to do this marks him as a member of the shadowy Mayday underground, which was not identical with the Underground Femaleroad but had connections with it. The latter was purely a rescue operation, the former quasi-military. A number of Mayday operatives are known to have infiltrated the Gileadean power structure at the highest levels, and the placement of one of their members as chauffeur to Waterford would certainly have been a coup; a double coup, as “Nick” must have been at the same time a member of the Eyes, as such chauffeurs and personal servants often were. Waterford would, of course, have been aware of this, but as all high-level Commanders were automatically directors of the Eyes, he would not have paid a great deal of attention to it and would not have let it interfere with his infraction of what he considered to be minor rules. Like most early Gilead Commanders who were later purged, he considered his position to be above attack. The style of Middle Gilead was more cautious.

(...)

We can only deduce, also, the motivations for “Nick’s” engineering of her escape. We can assume that once her companion Ofglen’s association with Mayday had been discovered, he himself was in some jeopardy, for as he well knew, as a member of the Eyes, Offred herself was certain to be interrogated. The penalties for unauthorized sexual activity with a Handmaid were severe, nor would his status as an Eye necessarily protect him. Gilead society was Byzantine in the extreme, and any transgression might be used against one by one’s undeclared enemies within the regime. He could, of course, have assassinated her himself, which might have been the wiser course, but the human heart remains a factor, and, as we know, both of them thought she might be pregnant by him. What male of the Gilead period could resist the possibility of fatherhood, so redolent of status, so highly prized? Instead, he called in a rescue team of Eyes, who may or may not have been authentic but in any case were under his orders. In doing so he may well have brought about his own downfall. This too we shall never know.

THE TESTAMENTS

CHAPTER 22

“My other parents. My real ones. Who were they? Are they dead too?”

“I’ll make more coffee,” said Ada. She got up and went into the kitchen.

“They’re still alive,” said Elijah. “Or they were yesterday.”

I stared at him. I wondered if he was lying, but why would he have done that? If he’d wanted to make things up, he could have made up better things.

“I don’t believe any of this,” I said. “I don’t know why you’re even saying it.”

Ada came back into the room with a mug of coffee and said did anyone else want one, help yourself, and maybe I should have some time to myself to think things over.

Think what over? What was there to think? My parents had been murdered, but they weren’t my real parents, and a different set of parents had appeared in their place.

“What things?” I said. “I don’t know enough to think anything.”

“What would you like to know?” said Elijah in a kind but tired voice.

“How did it happen?” I said. “Where are my real…my other mother and father?”

“Do you know much about Gilead?” Elijah asked.

“Of course. I watch the news. We took it in school,” I said sullenly. “I went to that protest march.” Right then I wanted Gilead to evaporate and leave us all alone.

“That’s where you were born,” he said. “In Gilead.”

“You’re joking,” I said.

“You were smuggled out by your mother and Mayday. They’d risked their lives. Gilead made a big fuss about it; they wanted you back. They said your so-called legal parents had the right to claim you. Mayday hid you; there were a lot of people looking for you, plus a media blitz.”

“Like Baby Nicole,” I said. “I wrote an essay about her at school.”

Elijah looked down at the floor again. Then he looked straight at me. “You are Baby Nicole.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I thought about that, sitting in the dark among the plumbing supplies. “So where is she now? My mother?”

“Sealed document,” said Ada. “The less people who know that, the better.”

“She just walked off and left me?”

“She was up to her neck in it,” said Ada. “You’re lucky you’re alive. She’s lucky too, they’ve tried to kill her twice that we know of. They’ve never forgotten how she outsmarted them about Baby Nicole.”

“What about my father?”

“Same story. He’s so deep underground he needs a breathing tube.”

“I guess she doesn’t remember me,” I said dolefully. “She doesn’t give a fuck.”

“Nobody is any authority on the fucks other people give,” said Ada. “She stayed away from you for your own good. She didn’t want to put you at risk.

But she’s kept up with you as much as she could, under the circumstances.”

THE THIRTEENTH SYMPOSIUM

I will conclude with one more fascinating piece of the puzzle.

The group of slides I am about to show you portrays a statue located at present on the Boston Common. Its provenance suggests it is not from the Gilead period: the name of the sculptor corresponds to that of an artist who was active in Montreal some decades after the collapse of Gilead, and the statue must have been transferred to its present position some years after the post-Gilead chaos and subsequent Restoration of the United States of America.

The inscription would appear to name the principal actors cited in our materials. If this is so, our two young messengers must indeed have lived not only to tell their tale but also to be reunited with their mother and their respective fathers, and to have children and grandchildren of their own.

I myself take this inscription to be a convincing testament to the authenticity of our two witness transcripts.

(...)

Here is the inscription. The lettering is weathered and difficult to read on the slide, so I took the liberty of transcribing it on the following slide, here.

And on this last note I will close.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF BECKA, AUNT IMMORTELLE

THIS MEMORIAL WAS ERECTED BY HER SISTERS AGNES AND NICOLE AND THEIR MOTHER, THEIR TWO FATHERS, THEIR CHILDREN AND THEIR GRANDCHILDREN.

AND IN RECOGNITION OF THE INVALUABLE SERVICES PROVIDED BY A.L.

A BIRD OF THE AIR SHALL CARRY THE VOICE, AND THAT WHICH HATH WINGS SHALL TELL THE MATTER.

LOVE IS AS STRONG AS DEATH.

All excerpts are taken from The Handmaid’s Tale and The Testaments by Margaret Atwood. These texts are the copyrighted property of the author and publisher. This compilation is shared for educational, archival, and commentary purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

#the handmaids tale #the testaments #nick blaine #osblaine #nick and june #books #dystopian #margaret atwood

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bouquetface · 11 days ago

Text

PAC: The Next Chapter For You

Not every PAC will be for you. Take it as entertainment.

1-2-3

If you don’t connect, don’t force it.

HOW TO PICK: I’ve noticed people tend to choose pile 2 just because it’s framed in the middle. I suggest clicking on the photos and really seeing which one (if any) call you.

Songs for Pile 1: We’re Going to Be Friends – The White Stripes, Ribs - Lorde, Drew Barrymore - SZA.

When you start this chapter…

You will be in a grounded place. You’ll be focused on materialistic and superficial goals. You’ll be working hard toward those goals. You’re focused on the practical and tangible.

You’ll have a lot of responsibility, but you handle it with grace. People may be dependent on you. This can manifest in various ways - for example, a child is dependent on you, a colleague is dependent on you to get their share done, etc.

What will happen…

Someone—almost your total opposite—will enter. For most of you, I do not feel this is romantic. This seems to be a feminine and rebellious energy. For some, this could be someone re-entering your life, but this time in quiet and subtle ways.

They aren’t entering to heal or evolve you. Both of you have different life paths/purposes. The cross over is a test from the universe. This person will attempt to destabilize you.

They aren’t a villain, although it may later feel like it. They seem lonely. They’ve been through it. You may sympathize. You will deeply connect. You likely have a past life connection. You may feel motherly to them. You may feel they’re like a sibling. This person will be eager to make you a “ride or die.” Initially, this will feel great; you’ll think you’ve found a lifelong friend, a “soul family” member, or whatever else you want to label it.

You may initially feel you can put them on the “right” path. But that isn’t what is meant for either of you in this life. Try not to carry this person’s burdens - the universe won’t allow you to succeed. You will only be dragged down in your own timeline.

Your maturity will be tested. This person will tempt you into a life that isn’t truly meant for you. Exact scenario will vary from reader. Potential examples: Inviting you to parties, connecting you with reckless, potentially dangerous people, wanting to overindulge in habits like drinking or smoking, or something entirely different - the point is it won’t be aligned with your life path.

Eventually this connection will begin to fall apart. You’ll try to hold on as you are likely a devoted/loyal friend. You may have: SN conjunct Venus, 7th H ruler in 1st. Tropical: Libra Rising, Virgo Rising.

And when things do take a turn, you’ll see they almost truly expect and want you to emotionally die/suffer. They will be vindictive. It’ll vary from reader to reader how extreme it gets, but this person is capable of weird and crazy things. Potential examples: Creating fake accounts of you, Constant prank calls, Being gossiped about, Slashing tires/Destruction of property, etc.

Songs for Pile 2: Jealous - Labrinth, Champagne Supernova - Oasis, Look At Us Now - Daisy Jones & The Six.

When you start this chapter…

You are a cunning and ambitious person. Truthfully, you likely wouldn’t mind bending some morals to get ahead. You can justify it to yourself as long as it helps you. This isn’t me criticizing you. It just is what it is. You look out for yourself. You’re smart about it.

What will happen…

You’ve succeeded at something. You won the prize - whatever it may be will vary from reader. It seems your means of getting this win came at a cost. You may have betrayed someone. You may have lied. You may have cut corners. Basically, you get what you want - but it wasn’t a clean path and you secretly know it.

Potential scenarios - Spreading a rumour. Revealing a secret. Ruining someone else’s reputation. Cheating or lying. Stealing. Gaslighting. The situation is messy. I’m not getting clarity on this situation. It seems you got enough space in the situation to play as the victim. In some ways, you may have gotten hurt too by the person’s reaction.

Potential example: A friend or lover invites you into their friend group. You talk shit about that friend with the group - secret hangouts or secret group chats. They find out and retaliate - might be genuinely wrong what they do - so now you can twist the story to make it seem they hurt you. Their reaction can be twisted as them “bullying,” “humiliating,” or “hurting” you. Deep down, when you’re honest with yourself, you know the truth.

Honestly, this pile has negative karma to handle in the future. You likely are made to experience some public humiliation. You likely find out someone close to you is a snake. You may experience a “social death.” You’ll be in a period where you’re drained and alone.

But humans are messy and they fuck-up. You aren’t evil and you won’t be punished forever because of one shitty past friendship/relationship. Truthfully, it seems the entire past situation was petty and messy. The universe is simply going to create a balance. You’re going to reap what you sow.

At the end, you’re going to gain more insight on yourself and life. It won’t ruin your entire life. It’s just a shitty period of life and you’ll get through it. No one’s perfect. Everyone has good and bad karma. This PAC suggests you’re gearing up to burn off the bad. The sooner, the better because then you get to the good stuff with a wiser and clearer soul.

Songs for Pile 3: The Chain - Fleetwood Mac, What’s My Age? - Blink 182, Pink Skies - Zach Bryan.

When this chapter starts…

You’ll be retreating. You’ll be tired. You may be burned out from relationships, work, and/or school. For some, you’ll be moving back to your parents’ house. You’ll be going somewhere quiet and familiar. You’ll feel too tired to keep chasing bigger and glamorous dreams (not that you won't return to that, but simply you need a break). A slowing down is occurring. You simply need time to rest (and possibly recover).

What will happen…

Gradually, two people will enter your story.

One will be stubborn. They may be local to the area and/or they feel familiar. This could be someone re-entering your life. Or someone you always knew of but weren’t ever close with, becoming significant for this next chapter. Example: Someone you vaguely knew in high school but y’all weren’t ever friends.

The other will be a hustler. They aren’t following a regular path. They may have artistic or entrepreneurial goals. Maybe they have a food truck or something that allows them to be on the move for work. They’re really hustling.

It seems these two connections will revive you. It won’t be easy and completely full of laughter and adventure. You will clash with them. But through these connections, you find yourself.

You may begin as just helping out. Occasionally, interacting. It's nothing instant. But soon, you create a genuine banter and friendship. They start showing up with you. This could be the start of a new friend group.

You’ll have learned to no longer be self-sacrificing. You’ll be more in touch with who you are and what you desire - not what other people want for you.

#tarot pac #pac readings #tarot readings

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 1 year ago

Text

Datura Pt 10

Summary: Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you realize what you have to do to ensure you and Rhys survive the Mountain.

Content Warnings: Character Death (not MC), blood and gore, canon typical violence.

Author's Notes: Sorry ya'll I got sick twice and then got hit with a massive case of writer's block. I think I rewrote this twice and stared at a blank Google Doc for like three days before I managed to get it to make sense. Thank you all for your patience! <3

Previous Chapter , Masterlist

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Every step back into the dark, the torches fewer and farther between, is both a relief and a pressing weight on your shoulders. Relief because you’re away from Amarantha’s cruel gaze, away from the leering stares of the crowd and your cousins; a relief because there’s a High Lord waiting for you to come back. You’d never admit it to him, but his presence is soothing, grounding--something you desperately need after the mess in the Throne Room.

The guards are in no hurry, unlike your initial removal from your cell; all four of them move in sync, having done this thousands of times. It must be a lot of work, tending to every person that Amarantha deems unworthy of her court--it has to be a lot, if the amount of locked cells you pass are any indication.

You keep your head to your chest as best you can around the collar, eyes pinched to avoid the constant change in lighting. They’ll adjust soon.

It’s because you’re focused on not tripping that you don’t see the guards ahead of you stop until you slam into the back of one of them. You reel backwards, expecting to be shoved or punished for the stumble, but the guards don’t react at all. They remain frozen, staring straight ahead.

A glance at the ones behind you to confirm they look the same; it’s as if time has come to a halt.

“Um, hello?” You risk waving a hand in front of one of their faces, fully expecting them to grab your wrist and throw you, but they still remain unmoving. Creeping a little closer, you can see the glazed look in their eyes, like they’re suddenly not seeing. One of them has drool running down the side of his face.

“They can’t answer you.”

You jump with a shout of surprise.

A female’s laugh echoes off the walls, footsteps approaching, though it’s still too dark to see where it’s coming from.

“Did you really think we’d leave you here with Amarantha?” Dagdan sneers as he comes to stand between the first two guards. He leans an elbow against one of their unflinching shoulders.

You can feel more than see Brannagh take up the spot between the other two guards at your back.

“You left with Tamlin,” you say. Maybe they really did get in your head and this is some terrible dream they’ve orchestrated to get into your memories. Despite the pain still throbbing in your skull from earlier, you check to make sure your shields are in place.

“The Throne Room sure,” Brannagh replies. “But the bitch is too busy having a temper tantrum to notice that her toy is even gone. By the time she figures it out, you’ll be gone.”

“Why? What do you want?” You ask, head spinning. They’d planned this. They’d riled Amarantha up on purpose to distract her from seeing them move you. They’d probably been in the guards’ heads from the beginning.

“As we told her,” Dagdan says, pushing off his perch to step closer to you.

You take a step back and bump right into Brannagh’s chest. Her bony fingers wrap around your arms and hold fast, her nails biting into your skin.

“Hybern wants you tested and ready, and I don’t believe for a second that you’re her submissive little pet.”

You focus on your breathing as pain prickles in your fingertips, your jaw, your powers itching to come out and protect you. One breath, and then another. You are in control here; you can do this, just like you practiced.

“Amarantha took my powers,” you say.

“And yet, you still reek of them,” Brannagh hisses in your ear.

“I think that’s sweat,” you retort.

Dagdan grabs the chain still hooked around your throat and yanks, cutting off your air supply as it jerks your head upward. “You think you’re really funny, don’t you?”

You gasp for breath as the metal digs into your skin. “I don’t have any powers!”

In the time it takes to blink, they’ve winnowed you away from the guards, out the tunnels, and to the lip of one of the Mountain’s cave entrances, where Tamlin remains waiting. The light is so blinding you throw your hands over your eyes with a scream that makes the twins chuckle in amusement.

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Dagdan says.

Sunlight might as well be flames against your skin, the burning making tears stream down your cheeks, even through the protection of your hands. Amarantha would have been better off blinding you in one fell swoop, it would have been less painful than this.

Indifferent to your pain, or perhaps relishing it, Dagdan yanks your chain and drags you out into the sunlight for the first time in months. Brannagh drags Tamlin in a similar manner, the High Lord still silently following along. You’d imagined this moment a thousand different times, in hundreds of different ways; the feeling of sunlight, of the wind against your skin was foreign, none of your dreams could do it justice. And the crispness of the air, the lack of dirt and decay in your lungs, it was enough to make you fall on your knees and sob--you would have, if you weren’t still being dragged.

“We’ll get to the wall and Tamlin will show us the gaps,” Dagdan explains, though the High Lord of Spring gives no confirmation that he hears him. “Once we find a weak spot, we’ll put you to good use.”

You can’t let that happen. If they find out the truth, they will use it against you, and then Rhys is dead, but there’s no chance for you to make a break for it yet. Trying to keep up with the pace they set so you’re not being dragged is useless, it’s like trying to run and after being caged for so long, your body can’t keep up. The exertion and the heat makes sweat drip off your forehead, the collar around your neck slick with it as it scrapes back and forth against your skin. You’ve got no choice but to follow them until they get to the Wall, and maybe then you can find a way to get free of them.

The Mountain exit has deposited you somewhere in the heart of Spring, though you don’t recognize the blooming forest at all. It must be on the other side of the High Lord’s estate, where you’d never had reason to be. If Tamlin recognizes his woods, his lands, he gives no indication of it, his emerald eyes still glassy and unfocused as Brannagh drags him like a dog on a leash behind her. You’ll have to find a way to get him free of her before you break away from them, there’s no way you can leave him alone with her like that. Amarantha has already done enough to him, you can’t abandon him to Brannagh too.

They walk for a long time, following deer paths through the woods. Though they carry no map, it’s clear they’ve studied one before coming with the way they pick their way around. Brannagh complains about the mud the deeper you all go, but you savor every splash of it against your skin, relish every brush of bushes and vines and the faint song from birds somewhere overhead. It might as well have been a lifetime ago since you’d last touched any of these things, your world shifted to nothing but stone and rock. You’d savor this, stressful as it was, when you eventually have to go back into the dark.

Because you will have to go back.

Even if you find a way to get Tamlin somewhere safe, you have to go back to fulfill your bargain. If you run away now the magic of the bargain could very well kill you.

Dagdan slows as the path ahead splits in two directions and you lean against a large tree to catch your breath, the bark rough against your skin. The noise of your company makes a squirrel jump from its roost and run for cover a few yards away and you watch it with the fascination of someone seeing the world for the first time. How are you supposed to go back into the dark when all this sunlight and fresh air exits? How can you go back into the cramped space of that tiny cell, with nothing but the cold to greet you when there is this kind of warmth in the world? It’s not fair!

“It’s right, you idiot!” Brannagh snarls when her brother hesitates.

“No it’s not,” he counters. “The map said left.”

“It’s right,” Tamlin says, his voice lifeless and slurred.

The twins turn to stare at him for a moment, before Dagdan huffs, “You better not be wrong.”

Tamlin goes back to staring into the sky like he hadn’t heard the threat and you push yourself off the tree to get a better look at him. It’s impossible to tell if he really is just high and delusional or faking it at this point, but if it’s the latter, maybe giving the twins the slip won’t be so difficult. You try to shift closer to him, but Dagdan yanks you away before you get more than a step.

They’re separating you intentionally, it would seem, with Brannagh staying a few feet behind you.

You check your shields as you walk, then the glamor, just to make sure they hadn’t heard any of the plans in your head.

The sun is high by the time the four of you make it out of the woods and into a set of grassy plains that stretch for half a mile before it meets a shimmering wall of magic. At the right angle it's almost invisible, save for a faint pink hue. The closer you get, however, the more your hair rises on end, the more the air smells sickly sweet from the magic used to hold the barrier in place. You’ve never been this close to the Human Lands before, and even though the Wall veils it from sight, you know it's just beyond.

“Ugh,” Brannagh says, crinkling her nose as you all pass through the waist high grass. “I can practically smell those human pests from here.”

Dagdan runs his tongue over his thin lips. “I’ve missed the fun we used to have with our pets, don’t you?”

You shiver under the implication in his tone. You’ve never met a human before, but they sound awfully fragile from the stories and you doubt they’d hold up under anything your cousins could throw at them.

“How close is the nearest hole?” Brannagh demands.

Tamlin slowly turns his head from side to side, golden hair flowing across his temples as he searches for the right spot. “About a mile,” he says finally, gesturing with his chin to the left of you.

The Wall doesn’t look any different from where you stand, but you don’t know enough about the magic used to build it to dispute his claims. Neither do the twins, as they don’t question it, and drag the two of you along the path indicated until you reach the spot. It’s of no help though, because the hole in question is about the size of a fist, just big enough for you to crouch and peer into the forest beyond the magic barrier. It smells different from this side of the Wall, newer yet dead somehow, like there’s no magic at all beyond the barrier.

“I should have figured you’d be stupid,” Dagdan snarls. Turning to his sister he adds, “I told you he was too pretty for his own good.”

You bite back a laugh despite yourself.

Brannagh yanks on Tamlin’s chain like one would a misbehaving dog. “I didn’t think I needed to tell you that we needed to be able to fit through it!”

“Oh,” Tamlin says with a shrug. “Then it’s the other way.”

And so, you go back the way you’d come, and further, to the next spot, larger than the last, but still not big enough for any of you to fit through, to which the High Lord insists there are more if you keep going further. It’s very much the same answer at each spot you find, making you walk back and forth until the path back starts to blur in your mind and the sun begins to set. It’s too dark to go back, especially with the growls of things from the edge of the woods rising to meet you, so they tether you and the High Lord to a large tree while they collect firewood to make camp.

You sink down into the damp earth with a grunt, legs sore beyond belief. It’s been too long since you’ve been able to properly stretch your legs.

Tamlin slowly lowers himself to sit next to you. “There’s a lot of boggie in this area,” he says, not looking at you. He keeps his gaze in the other direction, focusing on some bright flower bushes in the distance. There is no slurring in his speech anymore.

“So this was on purpose?”

He grins, pleased with himself. “I’m not totally useless.”

“It’d be a shame if we accidentally caught its attention,” you muse. There is a fog starting to creep in, stealing the warmth of the day, hiding whatever monsters lurk in the depths of the woods.

“They’re not armed enough,” he adds. “It’d be quick.”

Too quick, but what can you do about it in the end? “Can you get us unchained?”

“I think," he replies with a wince. “You still got claws you can use, just in case?”

“Me?” You say with feigned ignorance.

He risks a glance to where the twins are bickering about something in the tree line. “You don’t think I believe Rhysand wants something to do with you out of the goodness of his black heart, do you?”

You bristle at the words, fangs threatening to slip out. How dare him!

“He clearly means to use you for something, and after that fight with the chimera, I think it’s pretty obvious that he wants to wield you like Hybern did your mother.”

“It’s not like that,” you snarl. Rhys is nothing like Hybern!

“Isn’t it?” He hisses. “Let me guess, he tried to befriend you, acted all concerned about your powers being untested and untrained? He offered to help you get a handle on them, makes sure to run you through all the steps because he’s concerned about your well being?”

He doesn’t let you get a word in before he adds, “He did the exact same to me.”

You run a hand absently over the bargain mark. Rhys was many things but he'd never stoop so low as to use someone like that. It's unthinkable.

“And when I realized how he’d manipulated me, when I stopped giving him exactly what he wanted, do you know what he did?”

You watch the twins continue their argument into the darker parts of the edge of the woods to avoid looking at him.

“He killed my parents, my brothers. I am the only one left.”

That couldn’t possibly be true!

“Rhys gets what he wants, or he makes your life a living hell for it,” Tamlin snarls. “He’s just as bad as she is, he’s just better at hiding it.”

You've managed to reign in your temper until that point. “That’s not true!” You snarl. “He’s nothing like her!”

Tamlin huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “He’s really got you wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he? I bet the second you get out of here and away from them you’d run right back to him.”

You stiffen, not because it’s not true, but because all day the only thing you’ve been thinking about is how you don’t want to go back. Selfishly, greedily, all you could think about was how unfair it was to have to go back, you hadn’t once thought about him.

“He’d do the same for me,” you whisper, hand pressed tight to the bargain mark because you know he would. Without a thought for how long he’d been underground, without a thought for how unfair it was that he couldn’t keep his freedom, he’d come back for you, fight for you. How could you be so selfish and abandon him, bargain or not?

“You can’t be serious,” Tamlin replies. “Why would he come back for you?”

The ink is warm on your skin, a living, breathing thing that doesn’t just mark you, it’s part of you. Part of him. It’s a living tether that flows between your souls, ties you together. It’s him, but it’s you, it’s…

The realization slams into you like a brick. You’d known it too, that morning when Amarantha had taken your powers, something had shifted into place and you hadn’t been able to place it. “Because,” you stammer as you brush a mental hand against that tether, the one that had linked your minds together from the start, that had allowed him to reach for you on Calanmai all those years ago. It had been so easy for him to find you, not because of his powers, but because of what was already there. “Because he’s my mate.”

Mate. Rhys was your mate. It was as if all your questions had clicked into place, why you were always so eager to be near him, and him you, why he’d been so back and forth in the beginning. He was your mate.

Tamlin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause those are titles that mean anything.”

Shit. Your eyes go to Amarantha’s mark on his chest. “I’m sorry for everything she’s done to you.”

He growls, eyes flashing. “Bonds mean nothing. They’re just a way to make us animals that need to breed. They don’t guarantee protection or affection, it might as well be another collar.”

You glance over to where you’d last seen the twins. “So when they’re gone, will you fight her?”

“No,” he says. “I mean to disappear into the Human Lands and not look back.”

“But you can help stop her!” You persist.

“No one can, she’s too strong,” he returns, eyes now flicking to some noise his keen ears hear in the woods beyond you. “And if you’re smart, you’ll go too.”

You’d left your mate with Amarantha. “I can’t do that.”

He shifts so he can get a solid grip on your chains. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

There’s little time in between the moment he starts yanking on the chains, the branch they’re tied to groaning in protest, and the point when Brannagh starts screaming as whatever monster Tamlin had heard approaching finally makes itself known. You know the stories of the monsters Amarantha had unleashed on the courts, but you’ve never seen them for yourself, you have no idea what to anticipate. And truth be told, you’d rather not stick around to learn the truth. You help Tamlin grab the chains and pull until the tree starts to bow and bend under the strain. The chain is rough against your skin, tearing at your palms, but you grit your teeth and plant yourself firmly into the ground as you tug. Between the two of you, it doesn’t take long for the branch to snap off, the tree swinging wildly back and forth as the broken piece of wood goes flying through the air. Your chain slips free, flapping in the wind like a scarf as Brannagh continues to scream.

Tamlin doesn’t stick around to see if they’re being eaten or not, as soon as he’s untangled from the branch, he takes off in a sprint back towards the Wall, to whatever hole is big enough for him to escape through and into the Human Lands. You want to be mad at him for being a coward, but truth be told, you can’t. After all Amarantha has put him through, you hope he can find peace.

You hear Dagdan draw his sword behind you, hear the metal clang against something with claws, but the woods are shrouded in the fog now. Brannagh's armed as well, maybe they’re strong enough soldiers to make it out alive. You’re not going to stick around long enough to find out.

You’re used to the dark, it’s comforting to have nothing but the stars overhead. It had felt like a disadvantage before, but now, now it feels like home. You take off in a full sprint, holding the length of your chain in your hand to keep it from rattling too hard and attracting attention. Tree branches and vines slap at your arms, face and legs as you run, not daring a glance back, and it doesn’t feel all that different from the dream that brought you out on Calanmai, though a few flowers leading the way would have been appreciated this time. You’re moving on instinct more than anything, back the way that feels right.

Soon you stop hearing Brannagh’s screams, though you’re not sure if that means they’re dead, or if they’ve won. You push yourself as fast as you can go, lungs and legs burning in earnest now. You’ve got to make it back, you can’t get caught out here.

The Spring Court is a blur as you find the fork in the road you’d come to earlier and tear down the deer path that should lead you back to the Mountain. Distantly, over the sound of your own ragged breathing, you can hear something moving overhead, a distant flapping sound that’s far too heavy to be a bird. Nothing ever comes into view though, so you do your best to stay in the shadow of the bigger trees as you push through the underbrush.

Cauldron you’re out of shape! You can’t help but stop, hands on your knees, gasping for breath. Sweat drips off the ends of your hair as you bend over, struggling to get your breath back. When this is all over, you’ll take up running, you vow to the Mother.

Time's a ticking thing in your head and you force yourself to keep moving, even if you have to walk until you can breathe evenly again. A couple of steps is still movement in the right direction, still keeps some distance between yourself and whatever threats remain behind you. There’s a clearing up a head that you’ll need to be quick to get through unseen by whatever is flying around above you, you take care to get your breathing under control by the time you make it to the edge of it, and then sprint as fast as your legs can carry you.

It’s not fast enough. Something rock solid and incredibly fast slams into you from behind, sending you flying into the muddy earth with a breath stealing thud. Something with claws drags you up by the back of the neck, laughing, the sound a horrible wheeze of breath that makes your blood run cold. The Attor.

“Look what we have here,” it leers.

Your legs dangle off the ground, body limp in its clawed grip. “Let go of me!”

Darkness ripples in front of you, twisting like a vortex as it spits out the Evil Queen, fire wreathing her claw tipped hands.

Shit shit shit.

She sharpens the flames into points, like twin swords in her hands and she stalks towards you, snarling.

“Wait! Wait!” You plead.

“SILENCE!” She booms. “I’ve had enough out of you, you stupid little brat!”

You twist desperately to get out of the Attor’s grip, but it remains unmoving. If you can’t fight your way out, you have to be smart about this. “My Queen please, let me explain!” You can do this. You can make sure you get back to your mate in one piece, and maybe buy Tamlin the time he needs to escape. You all deserve to be free, there are no exceptions.

The playcatting makes her pause at least, so in a rush you say, “My cousins did something to my guards on the way back to my cell and they winnowed me out before I could even yell for help. I swear I wasn’t trying to escape.”

“Liar!” She snarls, but she doesn’t move any closer.

The Attor’s grip on your neck is bruising, makes your collar bite into your skin hard enough to draw blood. “They led us right into a bunch of boggies and I came back looking for help. Please, you have to save them, I think Tamlin is hurt!”

Invoking her mate makes all her reservations fly out the window. “Where is he?”

“I can take you there,” you say.

Maybe you’ll fulfill your bargain right here and now and let her own monsters finish her off, or maybe there will be such a mess you can convince her that Tamlin’s dead and it’s no use looking for him. One way or the other, you’re buying yourself time, so you take them back the way you’ve come.

Cauldron it feels like your legs are made of bricks by the time you stumble back into the woods. It’s a mess of gore and blood by the time you get back, Dagdan’s broken sword clutched in a hand detached from the rest of his mangled body. You vomit into the bushes when you see what’s left, what you and Tamlin have left them to.

Amarantha goes through the gore, kicking over the corpses of the monsters, searching for any sign of Tamlin among the bodies. You know there’s none, but there’s barely enough of Brannagh to identify, so you say, “Mother’s tits he was right here with them!”

The Queen remains rooted in a pool of blood for a long time before she throws her head back and roars so loud leaves fall off the trees. “My mate!” She wails. “My mate!”

You turn away like you can’t bear to look any more and truth be told, you can’t. Is this what you’ve become? You let them walk right into this trap without remorse, without a second thought, and they were dead. Horrifically, irreversibly dead. Their bodies as mangled as the chimeras you’d killed in the Pit, as mangled as if you had done it with your own claws. This was what you had been worried about in the beginning, this lack of hesitation, this easy decline into the monstrous death goddess your father wanted you to be.

And you’d do it again. It was not a question, you feel the surety of it in your soul. For your mate’s freedom, to fulfill this bargain and to be free, you’d do it again with no hesitation. You would play the monster over and over again.

“I do not smell him here, My Queen,” the Attor says as he sniffs around the bodies.

If his nose is that good he’ll be able to scent his tracks right through the gaps in the Wall. If she finds out he ran from her she’ll never let him have a moment of peace again.

“If he got away, where would he go?” You ask, pretending to look around for tracks. How long would it take for his scent to fade? How much time can you buy him with the Attor sniffing around like a bloodhound?

“He would come back to me,” Amarantha snarls. “My mate would come back to me, he would know better than to go anywhere else!”

“But if he was injured, maybe he’d go to his manor first, for aid?”

Amarantha’s eyes are wild as she nods, panic clouding her judgment. Good, you can use that. “We should head that way, see if he collapsed on the way maybe?”

Her eyes narrow. “Yes, yes I should. You, little mouse, are going right back to your cell.”

Back to Rhys. It’s an effort not to run your hand over the bargain mark, as if touching it might open the bridge in your minds so you could at least feel him at the other end of it. It’s the Attor’s sniffing that keeps you from acting on your impulses. Could bonds smell? You think they might. You have to be careful, have to play up the roll you’ve stepped into to ensure that no one is looking too closely at your motives. You’ve already gotten two people killed tonight, have already been stripped of all your dignity and agency, what is a little more? You throw yourself onto your knees, trying not to think about the blood and gore seeping into your skirts, feigning panic. “Please, please, My Queen, don’t lock me back up again. Please! I want to be useful, I want to make up for my mistakes. Please!”

“You’re wasting my time!” She growls.

The Attor grabs you by the neck again as she motions for him to follow, your skirts dragging through the gore as they set off in the direction of the manor. Despite her threats, she lets you be dragged along as she scours the ground for any signs of Tamlin. There’s none of course, but by an extreme stroke of luck, there is a wounded boggie crawling its way up the hill ahead of you, its blood trail hiding Tamlin’s lack of footprints. By the time it’s dispatched and she arrives back at the manor, the sky is starting to change colors, and you’re trying not to nod off.

Amarantha rips the doors off the manor when she finds it empty. “He can’t be dead! I’d feel it!” She insists to no one in particular.

The stone steps leading into the house look comfortable enough to curl up on and sleep. You give yourself a little shake to clear the thought away as the Attor says, “I’ll try and get a view from above, My Queen.”

Good, he won’t be able to scent Tamlin from the sky and he won’t be able to see him through the wards on the Wall. You’ve bought him a couple hours, you can do nothing but hope that it’s enough.

“Don’t return to me until you’ve found him,” Amarantha orders.

You’re swaying on her feet when she grabs your arm and snarls, “If I find out you delayed my search in any way I will make you wish you were never born.”

You nod, “We’ll find him, my Queen.”

She winnows you both, the empty swirling vortex flying past you before it deposits you back outside the mouth of one of the many caves. Dozens of guards are waiting, more chains in hand. Your hands shake at your sides at the sight of them.

You draw a breath, forcing yourself to not look at them as they approach. You were never really free anyway, none of you would be until she was dead and this Mountain was rubble. “What will you tell my father?”

One guard grabs the end of your chain, the other clamps a pair of binders on your wrist. But Amarantha grins as she says, “I’ll tell him they foolishly crossed you.”

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“Then it’ll be our little secret, won’t it, pet?”

----------------------------

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icanwriteitblindfolded · 3 months ago

Text

Written in the Stars: Eddie X (Fem)Reader.

Summary: soulmates, astrology, and tarot were all silly in your mind. You scoffed at the idea of someone being out there for you and the “universe” having a special purpose for you. There’s no such thing and it’s all a hoax, right?

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Slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, reader is not from Hawkins and bonds with Eddie and his gang. Just two idiots who don’t know they’re falling in love. Eventual smut but it’s going to be a long and slow build. ❤️‍🔥

*Warning*: 18+, masterbation (male and female) jealous and slightly possessive Eddie; and reader gets jealous too.

@dreamerjj

Part Five:

Eddie was right about the gossip in town; the older men arrived after lunch and cleaned out the rest of the coffee that you had left. You made a run to get more at the store, Harry told you to just let the clerk know it’s for Hawkin’s Auto, she gave you a discount and the receipt to give back to him. When you got back the crowd had grown to include Eddie’s uncle and Chief Hopper. They all fell silent when you walked in with the brown bag and scooted past them to refill the coffee. “Sorry boys, just making sure you have the necessary stuff here.” They chuckled.

“Your mom is an interesting lady.” Hopper remarked. You turned and grimaced. “What did she do now?” “Nothing, I just heard she’s making herself known in the area. Dropping by and giving everyone she can a little bit of her time and some food.” “Yeah she does that.” “Wait?” Harry remarked, “Clara and I haven’t seen a single plate of food from that lady? And she gave you something!” “She’s probably making sure to avoid any speeding tickets?” You retorted and the snickers behind you approved your comment. “Are you single Hopper?” You asked and turned to face him while the coffee slowly brewed its next batch. “Erm, no I’m seeing Joyce. She works at the store, Melvad’s.” You nodded and gave him a thumbs up. “Okay, remember that when my mom tries to flirt her way out of a ticket. Please let her know she deserves those speeding tickets.” You laughed as did the rest of them and you marched back to your desk.

“Are you an undercover traffic cop or something?” Eddie remarked. “Or something.” You raised your eyebrows playfully and Eddie snorted. “So I’ll take you over to Henderson’s with me later and then we’ll come back here to get your car afterwards.” You nodded. “How late do these things usually take?” “Hard to tell, depends on how the gang does. Some days we can play for eight hours, some days three.” Your eyes practically bugged out of your skull at the idea of sitting around a room for eight hours with Eddie’s friends while they played a game and you were just, there. “Like I said relax, if it goes on for a little longer than you like, just say the word and we’ll take a break so I can drop you off here.” You nodded again and took a shaky breath, Eddie noticed of course.

“It’s going to be okay F/N. They are good friends of mine and you have nothing to worry about. You already passed the hardest test.” “What’s that?” “You impressed me. Usually they’re the ones bringing in new blood and I get to put the fear of god into these people and see if they really want to join our club. You skipped that and now they have to deal with it.” “Remember Eddie, I’m not playing tonight. I’m not in the club.” “What? You’re totally a member, I’m the leader and what I say goes.”

“You guys don’t have matching outfits do you?” Eddie blushed and zipped his coveralls all the way, securing his shirt underneath. “Oh my god you do!” You squealed! “Let me see it!” “Absolutely not, you showed disrespect to the artist and now I’m not so sure I even want you to come along with me tonight.” You pursed your lips and shrugged. “That’s fine. Maybe my mom can take me around. I’m sure she knows a few of the eligible bachelors in town by now and we can arrange a date for me instead.” Eddie practically screamed. “Absolutely not! You’re mine for the night and that was the deal. Your mom can have you on Sundays!” “Yes daddy!” You joked, but peaking back towards Eddie you swore you saw him blush and tug his collar again.

“Can I please see the outfit. I am sorry I made a joke. Really, I want to see.” He hesitated and unzipped the front of his coveralls to reveal a well worn baseball style shirt with a devil skull on the front, a mace, and flaming sword. The words Hellfire Club above the design. He blushed and as quickly as he showed you he zipped back up to hide. “Aw Eddie I love it. Did you come up with the name too?” He nodded, avoiding all eye contact and tucked his hands into his pockets. “It’s really cool. Given that I assume you also made the shirts for your band and probably came up with the name.” Another nod. “Don’t be embarrassed Eddie,” he looked up at you from the curtain of bangs covering his face. “You’re really talented. Seriously. I wish I could do designs like that.” “Thanks.” He muttered and headed to the garage to work on the Dodge in the back.

****************************************************

“Eddie, you can’t be serious?” “I’m dungeon master and what I say goes remember?” Eddie crossed his arms glaring at Lucas and Mike who were both upset with him over this new addition. “We don’t bring our girlfriends to the campaigns! Why are you bringing yours?” “Hey!” Eddie moved forward, his tone forceful and unlike anything you’d ever heard. “She’s not my girlfriend number one and number two, if you invited your girlfriends, you’d spend the entire night making out instead of playing!” You sat in the living room where Dustin’s mom was watching TV.

You learned Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will were all seniors who had played in Eddie’s club since their freshman year. While most of the dungeon masters left it behind to the next member or generation; these guys didn’t want to move on when Eddie finally graduated. He failed multiple senior classes until ‘86 when by some miracle he squeaked by. It was kind of sweet how much they looked up to him and admired his skills as a dungeon master. Dustin walked out from the room where you could still hear the others fighting and Eddie doing his best to defend you and also himself declaring you were just his friend. He plopped himself down on the couch beside you.

“How are you doing?” He asked, He was a nice kid, even though this was your first time meeting him you could tell just by his presence he was a very open and sweet person. “Honestly, I feel like I should probably get going.” “No!” He pleaded. “They’ll calm down eventually. They’re just upset their girlfriends are all at home and they never get to bring them.” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You do know I’m not Eddie’s girlfriend right?” He nodded, and smiled. “I know, not yet at least.” You recoiled and gave a sarcastic smirk. “What does that mean?” He smiled back. “I mean, he likes you. He doesn’t bring anyone to these things.” “That’s just because I’m new around here and he feels bad for me.” “Okay. Keep telling yourself that.” You slapped his shoulder and he jumped. “Hey. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.” He winced when he touched the spot you made contact with. You couldn’t help but laugh, he was annoying but sweet, you liked him.

“Hey, Henderson!” Eddie poked his head through the door and looked over at the two of you. His eyes softened when they landed on your face, but only for a second. “Can you come in here please. You might be able to help settle Sinclair and Wheeler.” Dustin nodded, “Duty calls.” He stood up and went to rejoin Eddie. “You’d think these two assholes would grow up by now.” “Dustin!” “I know mom, language!” And they shut the door. You sat back as Mrs. Henderson watched the classic movie network with tonight’s showing of The Philadelphia Story. Caught in a daze of Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart you barely noticed when Eddie summoned you by name.

“Hey! F/N!” You turned and nearly hit the cat that had taken its spot beside you. Eddie laughed and motioned you to join him. “It’s okay now, all the fires are out.” “You sure?” “C’mon already! We’ve wasted a whole hour with these two idiots fighting and I’m ready to kick Gareth’s ass again!” Lucas’ Sister Erica hollered. You stood up and joined Eddie.

The game seemed easy to follow, and while you didn’t dare join them in their quest tonight. You wouldn’t mind Eddie showing you the ropes so you could join in eventually; it would take you years to catch up to them though. As they all had reached level 18 and according to Eddie, 20 is the highest. They fought a creature called an Archdevil, in the panic of that battle, your mind was consumed by the voice Eddie selected for the character, somehow his voice reached a depth and growl you never heard from anyone before. It had a sultry undertone to it that you could hear again and again.

Then there was his confidence; Eddie was all shy and bashful at work when you were talking to him. His voice always soft and gentle, here he was so commanding and forceful. He knew his way around the game and was quick to improvise when the others did something insane. Like when Dustin decided to do an attack called viscous mockery; He let out a string of profanities and insulted the creature to the best of his ability. Eddie rolled his dice and looked back at them smirking. “Puny warrior; think that would make me tremble with fear? I’ve faced the darkest nightmares you couldn’t even imagine in the nine hells. Try again.” Your heart fluttered when he spoke.

After a while you let yourself glanced at the clock on the wall. The game had been going on for five hours by now and you were beginning to feel the exhaustion settling in. Eddie glanced up to see you yawn again for the seventh time, he nodded and rose his arms up to address the room. Alright gang, we’ll take a twenty minute break.” “Twenty? Why so generous?” Will questioned. “Some people don’t exactly have the same energy as you kids.” He nodded towards you as you made your eighth yawn.

They disbanded and made their way around the basement as Eddie approached you to help you to your feet. “You think you can drive or you want me to take you home instead?” You shrugged and yawned once more. Eddie smiled and pulled you beside him “I’ll get you home. You can take a nap in the van.” Then the two of you left the basement, you could’ve sworn you heard a wolf whistle as you the door closed behind you.

“So what did you think?” Eddie prodded as you rubbed your eyes. “I’m amazed.” “Pretty great huh? Once you get started in this l know you’ll be fantastic!” “Not the game, you.” He looked over towards you, his eyes crinkled when his smiled reached them. “Me? Why?” You adjusted yourself in the seat, hoping not to knock over the pile of cassette tapes on his console and avoiding looking in the back at any cost. “You just seemed so confident and, sure of yourself. I’ve never seen that in you.” He smirked and you swore you saw him blush a little at the compliment. “It helps when I know my way around what I’m doing.” “Oh yeah? Well how come I never see that side of you?” He shrugged and turned on your street. “I can’t figure you out I guess.” “Oh please Eddie, I’m easy to talk to.” “You may think that but, I keep rolling critical misses with you. Like I’m aiming for a nat twenty and instead I’m rolling a three or worse a one. I feel like I say the wrong thing or look like an idiot all the time.”

“Eddie, you’re really underestimating yourself here.” He shrugged and then plastered on a cocky grin. “If you think tonight was something, wait until tomorrow at the Hideout.” “Oh you really think you’re that good huh?” “Oh I know I am sweetheart, you will see.” He stopped and bit his lip in, the pet name slipped out before he could catch it. “Sorry, I uh don’t know where that came from.” “It’s fine Eddie.” “No it was weird I’m sorry.” You clenched your teeth and looked at him. “It’s not as weird as you’re making it out to be.” He laughed and waved his goodbye as you walked into the house.

“Where were you?” Your mom sat with her Bible on her lap, glasses on the bridge of her nose and her crocheted blanket draped over her shoulders. “Just with some new friends.” “Eddie Munson among that particular group?” You huffed and picked at the dirt under your nails, not wanting to look her in the eye. “As a matter of fact he was mom. He drove me home and I’m going to be hanging out with him and his friends tomorrow too.” She turned a page with a sharp snap. “I don’t care for that boy all that much.” You straightened your posture and looked in her direction, her eyes still focused on the page.

“Well mom to be honest I don’t care what you think of anyone. Eddie’s been a good friend to me, and he’s introducing me to a lot of nice people. I need a friend mom and I choose to be friends with Eddie. I don’t care what you say, I’m not going to abandon my friendship with him for your precious reputation.” She scowled at her Bible as you walked up the stairs to your room. “If I find out you’ve been having sex with that boy, I’ll have you thrown out of this house.” You stopped at the top of the steps, turning back towards the first floor. “He’s a friend mom, nothing more!” You walked into your room slamming and locking the door.

You laid on the bed for a minute, thinking over the stuff Eddie said, what Dustin told you and now your mom. Eddie was just a friend; he made that clear and so had you. Still you thought back as well to the way his voice was earlier, that deep and commanding tone. Thought about his touch against your hand and how he would feel in other places, if he had the confidence to take control in bed.

You let your hand slip into your panties and that was the first time you ever touched yourself while picturing Eddie. His soft touch, the roughness of his hands, picturing them in place of your own down there as you circled your clit. You thought about how soft his lips would be as he peppered your skin with kisses, and how he’d feel inside. You let a finger slip through wishing desperately it was Eddie’s. You pictured him using that voice in the throes of passion, “No, you don’t get to cum until I tell you. I want you to know the way it feels to really be fucked!” “Yes...” You moaned, “Ed…”You buried your face into the pillow to muffle the sound of you trying to scream out his name and rode out the orgasm. You’d never came so hard and so fast just from the thought of someone. You laid in your bed, flushed and longing; wishing Eddie would come back to your house and fulfill that desire. You stood up, legs shaking, and got ready for bed.

****************************************************

You finished with one final sweep of mascara to your lashes. Taking a step back you hardly recognized yourself. You had originally planned to dress a little more like you did at the shop, t-shirt and flannel; but you found yourself longing to wear that tight mini dress Angela and Brittany made you buy last year. It was a spandex fitting dress with an off the shoulder top and a slit up your thigh. Very sexy and slutty. You saw it in the window as a shop back home and joked about trying it on with the girls, each of you picked a dress that you swore was all wrong for you.

Angela grabbed a short white dress that blended into her pasty skin. Brittany tried on a floor length dress which dragged as she walked being only five feet tall. When you emerged from the dressing room the laughter and giggles stopped. The girls urged you to buy the dress and told you it would get any guys attention. That’s why you never really got it out, until tonight.

You wanted to look good, both for yourself and a little for Eddie. You pulled up the fishnet stockings and adjusted the seam to accentuate the back of your legs and then tossed on the pleather jacket. You weren’t sure what he would say, but you wanted to make sure you did look good for him, it was a big deal for him tonight and he invited you to meet his friends. You had to look good and like you belonged.

The crowd at the Hideout was a bit more than last weekend. Eddie’s van was parked in the back like last week and you sat waiting to go in. The clock say it was eight forty five; while you arrived on time, you felt sick at the idea of entering and waiting around for his friends who obviously didn’t know you, and Eddie was probably backstage getting ready. You took a deep breath and with shaking hands entered the bar.

Eyes from everyone in the bar practically bugged out of their skulls when you walked in. Clearly you were overdressed for the occasion. You zipped the jacket tighter and headed for the bar. “What’s your poison sweet cheeks.” An old guy with a long beard probed. “Anything that isn’t being paid for by you.” He groaned and walked back to the dartboard. When you turned around two girls were giggling while holding three glasses. “You must be F/N.” You nodded. “Hi, I’m Robin and this is Nancy. You probably met her little brother last night. Mike.” “Oh, yeah hi. You’re Eddie’s friends then?” They nodded and took their drinks, handing you the third to head over to a table overlooking the stage.

There were two guys sitting there already; one who looked more intrigued by the water ring on the table and the other with the crazy hair was chatting up a pretty blonde. “Hey! Jonathan, Steve;” Robin tapped them on the shoulders. “This is F/N.” They turned to get a good look at you. “Woah!” Steve responded. “You are not at all what Eddie described you as.” “Oh Eddie’s been talking about me huh?” Steve smiled as his eyes slowly made their way up you form. “Yeah he’s been talking about you nonstop. Like he said you were cute and all but… DAMN!” The blonde punched Steve in the stomach and made her way to the bar, the old guy began to hit her up which she happily accepted.

“Harrington you are such an idiot.” Robin said and she twirled the lime wedge in her drink. Jonathan smiled as Nancy placed a soft kiss on his cheek, whipping the smudge away. Steve shrugged and offered you the seat next to him. “Can I take your coat?” You removed it yourself and placed it on the back of your seat just as the lights dimmed and the music started. “Yep, way hotter than he described.” Steve mumbled. A cover of Ozzy’s Crazy Train began to wail and you were blown away by the immense power of Eddie’s vocals.

They continued the set with covers of Metallica, Dio, Megadeath, Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden, Van Halen along with a few original songs. Eddie wasn’t lying when he said he was good, he was amazing! They closed the set and Eddie winked to the screaming blonde in the front row before turning his gaze to you and his face dropped. You waved coyly at him and noticed the sudden change in demeanor, his confidence and presence dropped entirely. He staggered off the stage to join you and his friends.

“Hey great work man!” Jonathan slapped his shoulder and as the rest offered their cheers. “It was amazing dude, best set you’ve done in a while.” Steve chimed “Thanks.” Eddie looked sheepishly at you, his face covered in sweat, he ditched the shirt tonight opting for a shirtless performance and giving you quite a bit to think about later. His torso was decorated with a few select tattoos. A spider on his neck, a demon skull; and his arms held the rest. Bats, a puppet master, and what looked like a dragon. He noticed you studying the art decorating his body and blushed.

“You were great. I’m impressed.” He smiled and looked up and down to drink in your attire. “Me too! Where were you hiding this thing?” He tugged at the hem of your dress and it snapped back on your skin, the throbbing between your legs returned. You inhaled, shakily and tossed your hair back. “Oh you like this?” He nodded, biting his lip and paying specific attention to where your stockings met with the dress, little did he know that’s as high up as they went “Absolutely, you look really good.” He licked his lips, eyeing you like a buffet. “So can I get you a drink?” You nodded asking for a tequila shot to which he smiled and promised a quick trip.

“Wow, looks like your plan worked!” Robin quipped. “What?” “Oh don’t play coy, it’s obvious you like Eddie.” You blushed and tried to hide it behind your hair. “No I don’t, we’re friends. That’s all.” “You dress this way to hang out with all your friends or is this a special case?” Nancy noted and sipped at her vodka soda. “I didn’t know what to wear to a thing like this. So I decided on something a little more risqué to look the part.” “What exactly was the part you were going for here? Was it the rockstar’s girlfriend, because if so I gotta say, you nailed it!” Steve chimed in and laughed.

“Uh oh?” Jonathan whispered. “What” Everyone turned back to the bar to see that blonde now resting her hand on Eddie’s thigh and sliding it up and down as he smiled flirting back. “Looks like someone else is trying to get an audition, for that part now.” As he said that Eddie’s eyes began looking down at her breasts which were practically on full display. He was checking her out, and enjoying the attention.

You felt a lump in your throat and the knot forming in your stomach. You were such an idiot coming out here and dressing like this thinking he’d notice you. You gathered up your jacket and purse. “I’ll see you guys around. It was nice meeting you. Give Eddie my regards.” You waved bye to everyone but Eddie and stormed out the door, your eyes catching him as he saw you leave with a panicked look on his face.

****************************************************

“Dude, you are seriously an idiot. A bigger one than Harrington and that’s not something to be proud of.” Robin yelled at him. Eddie wiped his eyes smudging the eyeliner further until he looked like a cartoon bank robber or a raccoon. “I wasn’t planning on anything with that girl and besides I just assumed F/N was just trying to look nice for you guys.” “Eddie the girl had on a thong, why wear that to meet your friends!” “Wait!” Steve interrupted. “Robin, how did you know she had a thong on?” She shrugged. “Hey, even I was checking her out when she got up to leave and I know what a thong looks like on a lady. Apparently you losers don’t!” Steve’s eyes widened and he downed the rest of his beer.

The blonde left Eddie the minute he pushed her aside to try and catch you in the parking lot, but your car sped out the moment he got there. He returned to his friends and sat there listening to the crew tell him how stupid he was for even attempting to flirt back with her when he had you back at the table waiting for him to notice.

He did notice you, the minute he stepped on stage he seen the woman in the red dress; he just assumed she was a new groupie who heard whispers of his band. Thinking you hadn’t shown up yet or were back in the bathroom but then he noticed his friends sitting beside her when it hit him. It was you, you were the woman in the red dress sitting there. After that he kept his eyes laser focused on you, and every new thing he ad libbed to the performance was to get your attention. He was dying to impress you, make sure you knew how great he was, fill your head with nothing but thoughts of him. He wanted you to have a night you’d never forget.

Then he thought of how hot you looked in the dress, the way it clung tightly to every curve of your body, the slit up the side, the fishnets, and now the thought of you wearing a thong under all of that; it was too much. He excused himself to the men’s room when the crowd began to thin out and the conversation switched to Robin and Nancy trying to figure out a way to get you to hang out with just them. Steve and Jonathan were talking about the upcoming Friday the 13th marathon and wanting to make that the next group outing. Once inside the stall Eddie let the silence wave over him.

He unzipped his pants and held his length in his palm, he was still hard from the images of you flashing through his mind. He thought about that thong, your ass which was so tight in your jeans at work, he thought about those stockings and how they were hugging the hem of the dress, the slit up the side and then thought of his hands reaching under that slit to pull your thong to the side. He spit into his hand and began to slowly pump it against his cock. Thinking of how wet you’d get just from his touch and how he would make you collapse just from his fingers working into you.

Then he imagined you sprawled out naked underneath him, about your breast and how perfect they’d look, he knew they were. His pace quickened and his body shuddered as he whispered your name. He thought about how you’d would beg for him, clawing and needing for him to keep going, to go faster and harder. Panting with desperation from his touch. His legs began to shake, whimpers emerged from his throat now.

He remembered your mouth that you painted red, how that shade would stain his shaft perfectly, he thought about how you’d feel going down on him, he knew you’d be great at it and would give him the best head he would ever receive in his life. And with the image of your mouth around his dick, his orgasm hit hard. His body convulsed and his spend leaked from him into the toilet. His body was coated in sweat again and shaking furiously from the release. “Fuck.” He muttered, as he flushed the contents down the toilet before washing his hands to rejoin the group.

“Eddie?” “Yeah?” He groaned at Steve as he took his seat back, avoiding eye contact with any of them, fearing his face would give away that he had been jerking himself off. “Do you think F/N would go with me to the movies?” Eddie looked back at Steve who showed no signs of it being a joke. “I don’t know, why do you ask?” “I was just wondering. Since they’re showing the Friday the 13th marathon next week, would she want to go to that?” Eddie shrugged. “Maybe.” Robin shoved Steve’s arm. “Why are you such a pig!” “I’m asking permission to ask her out. Eddie, listen if you don’t want me to make a move on her just say the word. I’m not going to try and steal her away from you, if you actually do like her.” Eddie stared at the mixed nuts scattered on the table a before raising his eyes up to meet the group who stared blankly waiting for an answer.

#eddie fanfic #eddie x reader #stranger things #hawkins indiana #soft eddie munson #eddie smut #strangers to friends #friends to lovers #slow burn #slow build #jealousy #tarot #mystical #soulmate fanfic #joseph quinn

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miniatureteaset · 13 days ago

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Eedih Zalea

New twst oc! :D

(One of my newer ones, but I may or may not be posting some of my older ones at some point :v)

Anyway, here's Eedih :3

Eedih Zalea

Dorm: Ignihyde

Class: 1-C, No. 30

Birthday: Aug 13

Age: 16

Height: 159 cm (5'2")

Dominant hand: Right

Homeland: Shaftlands

Club: Film Research Club

Best Subject: Animal Linguistics

Hobbies: Web Design

Pet Peeves: Loud Noises

Favorite Food: Candied Insects

Least Favorite Food: Mint

Talent: Acrobatics

Creates silvery threads to weave into a spider web that can be felt by the caster within a certain distance

UM/Signature Spell: "Spider's Web"

"I weave a web

to catch my prey--

the Spider's Web."

Wears puke-green shoes solely because they’re ugly

Fun Facts:

Wants to annoy people who know anything about fashion

Manages to unsettle practically everyone he meets

On purpose—making people uncomfortable is funny to him

Learned to use his UM to spy on conversations by feeling vibrations in the air through the webs

Sleeps in his UM’s web

Thought learning web design would be funny as a spider beastman

Unironically started enjoying it

Skin so pale, you can clearly see every vein

White skin with just enough pink to know he (probably) has blood

Primarily works costuming in the Film Research Club, but often helps with difficult camera angles

Uses his UM to cheat on assignments and tests

Places webs in the library near high scorers to listen to answers, encoding them in webs which are then placed in classrooms

Created an entire coded language to use with his webs

Backstory

Eedih was born in a small town in the Shaftlands to magicless parents who worked as the owners of a small fabric making business. He grew up often helping in the shop, earning him a good amount of knowledge about fabrics. Most of his childhood, his parents intended for Eedih to take over their business as their only son, until he developed his magic.

He developed his magic at a much earlier age than other children, causing his parents and other family members to reconsider their future plans for Eedih. Despite his family's encouragement, Eedih never really took much interest in magic until his Signature Spell developed around the age other children were first developing their magic. This was the development that originally got Eedih interested in actually developing his magic.

Before he developed his Signature Spell, Eedih mostly kept to himself in social settings, earning him very little socialization. This was partly due to his own preferences, but also partly due to the unease caused by his spider beastman traits.

Once he started developing his magic seriously, he began using his magic in more situations. He began training his Signature Spell in every way he could think of, now that he'd found a part of magic that he thought might actually be useful to him. He began practicing acrobatics in order to move around in his webs, as well as training his magic to be able to use his webs to hear things through vibrations in the air. Additionally, he began training his spell to be able to use magic for extended periods of time, earning him a unique type of blot resistance that granted him prolonged use of mid to low level magic.

For the most part, this began his journey into annoying and pranking other people in order to get reactions out of them. It was his first experience interacting with other people.

When it came time for him to apply to different schools, he mostly applied to local schools with little interest in actually furthering his education. He had applied to NRC solely on a suggestion from a family member, thinking that it would be hilarious if he actually got in.

When his acceptance letter arrived, his family celebrated while Eedih started planning on how to cause the most chaos at his future school. His family members would describe his smile upon receiving his acceptance letter as 'strangely sinister'.

Notable Relationships--

Likes to prank most of his fellow students

Azul has attempted to recruit Eedih because of his UM

But only once

Eedih now has blackmail against Azul which he won’t tell anyone, causing Azul to have to tread *very carefully* around him

Wanted to prank Kalim until he realized he also worked in the fabric industry

Rather than pranking him, they just talk about fabrics

Has never managed to prank Rook

Finds it incredibly annoying, whereas Rook finds it incredibly amusing

Pranks/scares people with Lilia

Thinks Lils has great ideas

Ace wanted to be friends with him at first because of his 'talents', until Eedih used said talents against him

Eedih hasn't pranked him since--thought his reaction wasn't as funny as he hoped it would be

Bullies his housewarden (Idia)

Is friends with Ortho solely so he can get more ideas to bully Idia

Has messed with Idia's gaming setup (breaking things, resetting times, using items, etc.)

Tweels just think he's a funny lil guy

Bullies Vil

Messes with his makeup/skin care items

Sebek is a common victim of Eedih's pranks

Abolutely *hates* Eedih, thinks his pranks are 'unethical and uncouth'

ANYWAY

Here is Eedih, my precious little spider sociopath XD

(He's just a lil guy :3)

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #my writing #twst oc #ignihyde oc

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wazzappp · 11 months ago

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@rokhal okay so you see heres the problem. You asked too many good questions so I opened a google doc to answer them and then things just got going and then I ended up with an entire summary of the story I have so far.

ALSO thank you @moosemonstrous for helping me puzzle through my fugnking ramblings

Also it is IMPORTANT that you know I had this song on repeat the entire time I was plotting my nefarious schemes

OKAY SO. I’m thinking Robbie is some sort of specialized stealth unit. He was originally designed for high level infiltration but was repurposed by the human resistance in the future. He has skin with a metal endoskeleton just like the usual terminators but he ALSO has those nanobots that allow him to heal at the same pace as a normal human. They also would help with repairing any damage to internal systems like wiring. They could also be what repurposes food to grow his metal endoskeleton. I’m debating on whether he can manually speed that up for an accelerated healing process because that would require a level of control over his machinery that I’m not sure it would make sense for him to have right after figuring out he’s a machine. Maybe with some practice he could do it. OHHHHH OR IF HES IN SOME SORT OF ‘EMERGENCY DEFENSE’ MODE IT ACCELERATES AUTOMATICALLY THAT COULD BE FUN!!!

Also I really like the idea of him being able to heal with those nanobots but like. SPECIFICALLY for Gabe. They’re programmed to create synthetic flesh and skin but only for certain genomes. His and Gabes are similar enough that they can help repair tissue if he’s injured. Like being a blood donor for matching blood types.

STORY WISE HERE’S WHAT IM THINKING: Eli still exists in this universe and he’s still a massive shithead. Still pushes Mama Reyes down a flight of stairs while pregnant with Gabe (their soon to be first child), still a serial killer and still involved with the mob. But shortly after Gabe is born, Eli is caught and sentenced to prison for life. The mob figures he told his brother’s family so that makes them a liability. They kill Alberto and Julianna, but leave Gabe alone in his crib. This happens when he’s about 6 months old.

While this is happening, Robbie is time traveled into the back yard of their house. He goes inside and puts on whatever clothes he can find. When police show up to check after getting a noise complaint from the neighbors, they find what looks to be a 5 year old boy soothing a crying baby and a massive burned hole in the backyard they think is just some sort of already detonated explosive. Everyone just assumes this kid is his brother and they try to get him out of the house without letting him see his dead ‘parents’. He doesn't talk much but does answer that his name is Robbie when asked.

Things get REALLY weird when they go to the police station and find… absolutely nothing about him. No birth certificate, no social security number, no history of schooling, not even their notoriously nosy neighbors know anything about him. The Reyes’s had not marked down a dependent on their tax forms until Gabe. Even when they look at the possibility of him being an undocumented immigrant; NOTHING. Half the guys think he’s an illegal alien that slipped through the cracks of.. EVERY country and the other half think he’s an ACTUAL alien For all intents and purposes the kid in front of them does not exist. Eli isn’t much help when asked, he just assumes ‘that bitch of his turned him against me didn’t even tell me that I had a nephew already here god DAMN her’.

They quickly start questioning whether they're actually brothers, but genetic tests determine that they are. That, and the absolute INSISTENCE of the boy that ‘This is my brother. I HAVE to keep him safe’.

So they do what just about anyone might do. Decide this weird magically appearing child is someone else’s problem, and put them into foster care. From there the story stays about the same for a while. They know Eli exists but they honestly couldn't give less of a shit about him. That guy is never getting out on parole lmao. Robbie catches up with social development and for the most part fits in pretty good (he never gets sick. Like ever. Never gets so injured he has to go to the doctor for emergencies. Just regular checkups, which he passes through with a few raised eyebrows but still good). He’s still a GENIUS with cars and works at Canelos. He understands them in a way that usually takes years of experience way beyond what Robbie has. Things are going.. Not GREAT but they’re okay. And then AMADEUS FUCKIGN SHOWS UP.

Skynet of the future has sent back a Terminator to kill Gabe. No one is really sure WHY but they figure if skynet is going to such lengths to kill this kid then he must be worth protecting. So the human resistance sends back Amadeus to find Gabe and keep him safe from this Terminator.

He steals some clothes, a gun and a car(not like hes really planning on settling down here anyway who cares about a few broken laws) shows up at the Reyes residence, meets Gabe.. and basically all his plans blow up. This is absolutely NOT the type of person he was expecting and he sure as shit doesn't want to go anywhere with this random stranger. So naturally he kidnaps Gabe and starts getting the fuck out of the city (while also starting work on an electromagnetic field reader that he thinks can help detect terminators).

Robbie shows up back home after grocery shopping and uhhhhh Gabes NOT THERE theres BROKEN SHIT IN HIS HOUSE and the neighbors keep talking about a STOLEN CAR and some maniac who stole from a GUN SHOP. So he does the only reasonable thing he can think of, checks Life 360 hoping that Gabe still has his phone on him (he does) gets into his car and starts hunting them down. Between his crazy driving skills and freakish persistence, Amadeus can only conclude that Robbie is the terminator sent to kill Gabe.

When Robbie finally heads them off at an abandoned warehouse Amadeus tries to pull Gabe along with him and run away. But when Robbie steps out of his car, Gabe recognizes him and starts trying to get there. Amadeus is panicked, pointing his gun at Robbie to try and keep him away and, at this point, VERY confused. Because he’s pulled out his EMF reader and is getting some absolutely WACK readings off Robbie but hes also very much so being deterred by the gun (terminators couldnt gibe two shits about guns thlse metal fuckheads eat bullets for breakfast). The readings shortly get even more wack when the ACTUAL Terminator sent to kill Gabe shows up. Amadeus fires a couple of shots into the Terminator to confirm what he already knew (subsequently freaking both Robbie and Gabe out sufficiently enough to confirm that at least Amadeus isn’t entirely crazy). They pile into the Reyes-mobile and peel off shortly before the terminator gets into Amadeus’ abandoned stolen car and starts going after them.

Robbie is doing his best to ask what the FUCK is actually going on while getting away but Amadeus is still double checking his EMF readings because Robbie is DEFINETLY not human but also clearly isn’t here to kill Gabe. Quickly puts two and two together that for SOME reason SOMEhow Robbie is here to PROTECT Gabe from this other Terminator. Amadeus is. A little distracted because of this and keeps asking Robbie about his ‘Programming’ (sort of a “WOW your programming must be good you REALLY think he’s your brother and thats WHY you have to protect him!” “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WHO WAS THAT GUY HOW DID HE KEEP WALKING AFTER YOU SHOT HIM” “It was a terminator keep up. Hey did you even TRY to call the police or did you just start coming after me because you knew it would be faster? Cause damnnnnn again. PROGRAMMING!”)

After finally losing the terminator that’s been on their tail, they find the police are not too happy about their reckless driving, arrest them and take them to the station to keep in a holding cell. While Robbie is in said holding cell with Amadeus (Gabe is presently being asked questions) there’s a police officer who recognizes him as that weird little kid who just appeared out of nowhere.

“Yeah we had absolutely NOTHING on you. It was like you hadn't existed until the day we found you!” So Robbie has to sit and listen to this while Amadeus is just confirming in his head what he already figured out. Being stuck in that cell trying to stay in denial with the guy whose favorite thing to say in the world is ‘I Told You So’ is not great. (un)Fortunately this is when the actual terminator shows up again.

This time, being faced with both the Terminator AND police trying to stop him from leaving, Robbies defense systems activate. He goes absolutely HAM on everyone in his way. He’s extremely default Terminator-like (Emotionless, distant, empty, quiet) in this state because all of his infiltration protocols have been halted. He even manages to fight off the other terminator decently well, but not before getting blasted in the arm with a shotgun shell. It goes deep enough that his metal endoskeleton is revealed. I also had this idea of like. His arm getting caught in something and he just stares at whoever trapped it there. Looks them dead in the eyes as he degloves his entire hand then beats the shit out of whoever got in his way with his metal fist. He stays in this state until they steal ANOTHER car, and he finally snaps out of it. And sees his hands covered in blood. And glimmers of his metal skeleton. And his brother looking at him in fear.

AND THATS WHAT IVE GOT RN I CAN'T WRITE LIKE YALL CAN I DON'T HAVE THE PATIENCE FOR IT I HAVE TO GET ALL OF THIS OUT LIKE RIGHT NOW SO YEAH UHHHHHHH ENJOY

#ghost rider terminator au #BEHOLD. MY BARELY FILTERED BRAIN FLOOD OF NONSENSE #terminator!robbie #ghost rider #robbie reyes #gabe reyes #amadeus cho

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noitsbecky127 · 2 months ago

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rebecca watches ds9: the way of the warrior

and we’re on to season 4! time for worf to join the crew!

sisko is bald now, looking good

who are he and kira pursuing

oh it’s prolly a simulation

oh shit there’s a changeling on board???

you found it!

loving this in medias res beginning

WHY IS JULIAN INVOLVED IN THE HUNT HE IS A DOCTOR

i’m starting to think starfleet doesn’t know what a doctor is supposed to do

what if you were BRITISH and NEURODIVERGENT and BISEXUAL and a DOCTOR but you NEVER SEEMED TO PRACTICE ANY MEDICINE

ah ok it was a simulation after all. i was right the first time. never doubting myself again

or well, not a simulation, but a practice round

smart of them to be doing that

kira’s hair got fluffy!

why is quark’s still open? why has he not moved? surely there are better places to run a bar? places that won’t soon turn into the battleground of an interstellar war?

glad to see sisko and kasidy are still going strong!

sisko’s outfit is ATROCIOUS

why is 24th century fashion like this. is that how people dressed in the 90s. my parents are out or I’d ask them

nice hat sisko!

no one can ever have a nice date in star trek. it’s forbidden. the plot will always interrupt it

jadzia’s hair is looking a little different too i think! the station must have gotten a new barber post-s3 or smth

klingon ship is here! will worf be with them? actually he’s in starfleet so prolly not

is this a new intro???

i think it is!

also starring michael dorn as worf!!!

lieutenant-commander dax! good for her!

quark seems pretty unsettled about all the klingons in his bar. cannot blame him. last time he had klingons in the bar the station was nearly destroyed. and the time before that he accidentally became head of a klingon house

i don’t feel like the klingons are planning smth this ep but one can never be sure

SPECIAL GUEST STAR ANDREW ROBINSON AS GARAK LET’S FUCKIN GOOOOO

are blood tests gonna just be a part of every important conversation now

guess it’s the best changeling detection method they’ve got

i don’t think you’re gonna be ready for the jem’hadar

jadzia and kira are on a date in the holosuite. hopefully plot won’t interrupt the date this time

i would also feel silly in the holosuite. guess you get used to it

don’t worry kira it’s never too late to get an imagination

and jadzia will help! god they’re so in love

i know worf is gonna show up this ep and he and jadzia will fall in love and i know kira will eventually get with odo but i do not care. they are in love. you cannot convince me otherwise.

oh god what are the klingons planning. they look like they’re up to something.

odo made fake coffee to hang out with garak. trauma bonding is truly the key to all star trek friendships

glad to see garak hanging with someone other than julian! it’s good to have friends outside of your partner

so the obsidian order is just gone now? guess that’s what happens when the guy in charge of it dies

i think the klingons are about to start a fight

leave morn alone

of course garak speaks klingon. i’m not even surprised. idk if anything about this man could surprise me at this point

ah yes, another typical skill of simple tailors

why are the klingons beefing with him now. is it bc he sassed them

ok well fuck you guys

oh my god THIS IS WHERE THE CUTTING REMARKS QUOTE IS FROM. i fucking love star trek and i love that quote

he and julian never miss an opportunity to flirt

oh shit is kasidy ok

doesn’t sound like it!

hopefully she has enough plot armor by now to save her

ok the klingons probably won’t kill her. they can probably come to an agreement on this

i’ll be damned, a warning shot actually served its purpose!

“everyone is fine” why did kasidy say that so weirdly

is it just me or is she talking weird

making a mental note of that for if it comes back later

nothing can ever be simple with the klingons can it

oh ok so he’s gonna ask for worf

here he is! the man the myth the legend! i don’t really care about klingons but i do like worf

wait wtf happened to the enterprise. i don’t remember anything happening to her in tng. time to pause and google

oh it was destroyed in the movies. i did not watch those. should i watch those? i prolly won’t regardless but i’d still like to know if i should

“i doubt that this assignment will take very long” well apparently it’ll take at least four years!

prune juice!!!

good for you kira. knock out lancelot all you want. someone get my girl a holosuite program where she doesn’t have to experience comphet

quite a way to meet your future wife

jadzia sees worf and immediately starts the polyamory negotiations with kira

wonder what she said to him

oh lord time for a klingon fight

get their asses worf

aww he has a pic of alexander

so what the hell are gowron’s orders?

what is martok up to

I’m not sure whether to believe him or not

alright time to watch jadzia flirt with worf

i am not interested in this ship. i am open to letting the show change my mind but it’ll take a lot

ah, klingon singing

old klingon man. i cannot remember who he is. i don’t even know if i’m supposed to know. hopefully the narrative will remind me if i need to know

oh god what has worf learned

i’m guessing he’ll choose the federation’s side

cardassia had an offscreen revolution???

good for them! need that energy irl

i feel like the dominion didn’t have anything to do with it. the cardassians seem to have ample reason to overthrow their govt

looks like the klingons are gonna invade cardassia, or at least try to

ah right ig klingons wouldn’t like being at peace for too long

“we need a third option” and it’s just your doctor’s gay situationship

what the hell is going on

if the government has been overthrown then why hasn’t anyone killed dukat yet

was the plan just “indirectly tell garak stuff”

oh christ war with the klingons is the LAST thing you guys need rn

wonder whether gowron will make this better or worse

he’s very happy to see worf so probably better

yeah i think i just don’t care much about klingons

i’d seen the memes of gowron but i didn’t think he actually looked like that all the time. what is wrong with his eyes

worf is Brooding™️

well obviously smth in the next half hour or so is going to convince worf not to resign

quark you are not welcome in this conversation

worf: i’m quitting

sisko: nuh-uh

ah ok so dukat is a slimy motherfucker with no principles. no one is surprised by this

eventually sisko and kasidy will be able to have dinner together. someday.

awww smooch

ok you can stop kissing now

what the romulans don’t know won’t hurt them

well. so much for the civilian government.

should you guys really all be going to war right now? that feels like exactly what the dominion wants!

i would just let dukat die but what do i know

rip to that random yellowshirt

ok yeah ig blood draws are just gonna be standard procedure now

the defiant’s gonna need a fuckton of repairs after this

“i find this whole procedure offensive” “and i find you offensive” julian my beloved

i love how they never miss an opportunity to rag on dukat. they’ll work with him but they’re gonna torment him about it

isn’t kanar blue?

guess it comes in multiple colors

oh I’ve seen gifs of the root beer conversation

my dad saw sisko and didn’t recognize him at first lmao

quark you are CHOOSING to remain in the quasi-warzone

how the hell are they gonna avoid going to war with the klingons now

looks like the medical staff’s prepared for a mass casualty incident

i would like to hear a klingon opera about the slaying of a changeling, so long as that changeling isn’t odo

of course quark had a gun on him working in a kitchen

“i will KILL HIM!” “with what?” i love quark and odo’s banter so much

i love when garak is bitchy

dukat is ITCHING to call him a slur

wonder if they actually have 5k proton torpedos

guess it’s time to find out!

i don’t think diplomacy’s gonna work at this point

i bet someone’s translated everything said in klingon in star trek

that’s a fuckton of klingons boarding the station!

oh shit kira

it’s ok her plot armor will protect her

yes! sisko is saying what i was thinking! infighting is what the dominion wants!

and that seems to have gotten through!

guessing there’ll be plenty more issues with the klingons in the next four seasons though

alright so now sisko’s gonna convince worf to stick around

ok he convinced him to stay in starfleet and worf has decided the ds9 part

welcome to the ds9 cast worf! i don’t know how i feel about this or his incoming romance with jadzia but i will keep an open mind

#liveblogging #star trek liveblog #star trek ds9 #star trek deep space nine #star trek deep space 9 #ds9 liveblog #deep space nine liveblog #the way of the warrior ds9

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