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ystrike1 · 1 month

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When The Black Wolf Calls My Name - By Yim Hye (8.5/10)

You know the drama is going to be great when you can understand the villain. The villain in this one is completely insane too, but nothing is as simple as it seems. Our protagonist chooses to remarry to save herself from her obsessive ex-husband, but the reader gets to slowly question the logic behind that choice. She is an unreliable narrator, and that's the most interesting part

Yeonwoo wasn't loved, in the most boring way. Her mother was extremely harsh with her, and her father let it happen. Young Yeonwoo experienced the type of abuse people hate to talk about. Emotional abuse. Seowoo, her younger sister, was loved and spoiled but not her. Why, you ask? Well, Yeonwoo is the smart one with potential. Her mother broke her spirit to turn her into a convenient pack mule. A pillar of support for the family.

When the story begins Yeonwoo is financially responsible for both of her parents, and her younger sister. Why? Because she's successful of course. Yeonwoo became a song composer in Korea. She had great success, and her mother immediately asked for money...in a nice way.

The family goes on a trip that Yeonwoo is paying for, and they slip off a cliff into the Underworld. The Underworld in this setting has a historical fantasy vibe, and it is ruled by powerful men contracted to animalistic guardian spirits.

In her first life (hint, hint) she marries a powerful man who controls The Brown Bear spirit. He claims he loves her above all else, but he kills her beloved family too.

She obviously decides to kill herself because she cannot live without her beloved family. Everyone is afraid of Yeonwoo, because Hyojo the Brown Bear loves her so much. When she dies she destroys him, and before her eyes close she notices something.

Another crying man. A man she doesn't even know is weeping desperately for her. She thinks it's out of pity. She wishes no one would cry, because she's dying a prideful death. She's dying to avenge her beloved family.

When she wakes up again she has silver hair, and her family is alive!!!

They get out of the same ruined car again, and they look around the deep forest. Lost and confused.

I'm not kidding her family abandons her the same chapter. Like less than an hour after they arrive.

Sort of.

Hwita appears before her instead of Hyojo this time. Yeonwoo says she must go with him immediately...because she wants to protect their ungrateful asshole asses from Hyojo. Marrying a woman from Earth is a highly strategic decision, and as a bonus Yeonwoo is beautiful.

She offers herself to Hwita, and he eventually decides that he's interested in a marriage of convenience.

Her family literally leaves to hang out somewhere safe while she literally DOES ALL THE WORK TO SECURE HER NEW MARRIAGE AND KEEP THEM ALIVE.

The REAL ISSUE could not be more clear.

Yeonwoo refuses to accept it, but she is absolutely still being abused by her family. They're nicer about demanding money and protection now, but the unreasonable expectations from her childhood never changed. They just changed shape.

Hwita tries to seduce Yeonwoo at first, but he quickly finds out that his beautiful new bride has....problems.

Her greedy family is obviously one of them, but her traumatic second life has left her more heartless. She has no interest in love anymore.

Why?

Well, in her first live she loved Hyojo dearly. By the end of that life his name was branded on her chest, her family was dead, and he wouldn't let other men look her in the eye.

Hwita, obviously, was the other man crying when she died. I do think he's more gentle than Hyojo...but there's a problem.

A really, really big problem.

Yeonwoo simply cannot see that her family is the problem.

Hyojo showered her with sweet love. During their honeymoon phase he sang about her beauty and he grew gardens for her and he carried her princess style and they cuddled all the time and he cared about her feelings.

He was always crazy for her, but he wasn't violent in the beginning.

Do I know Hyojo is bad?

Yes.

Do I also know they could have worked on their mutual issues if her family wasn't...like that?

Also yes.

In her first life Yeonwoo tried to kill Hyojo when he threatened her awful family. In response he got crazier and meaner because his beloved bride chose the clown car over his eternal love.

Is he still a dick? Yeah. Is Yeonwoo kind of an annoying victim that refuses to stand up for herself???

Yeahhhh. It's not black and white in this one. The Underworld is not like Earth. Hyojo's violence is more normal and expected than Yeonwoo thinks.

Hyojo was way too possessive. She's right to avoid him and remarry, but Yeonwoo's family members are definitely stupid enough to insult and demean her in front of her crazed husband.

I 100% know that's how they died without even reading ahead.

It's a real moral conundrum. As a reader you understand why Yeonwoo wants to cling to her family in this unknown world. On the other hand staying with Hwita and leaving the idiots to their fate would be more satisfying.

There's a chance Hwita is a yandere as well. A smarter one. His excuse for marrying Yeonwoo right away is paper thin.

I sincerely hope her family gets punished for using her as their bank account someday.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #When the black wolf calls my name

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rileyslibrary · 1 year

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The hot seat.

Synopsis: You decide to attend a speed dating event in the city where you're deployed. Simon “Ghost” Riley, your lieutenant, is also there.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,595

Notes:

I got this idea after a friend told me she matched with one of her colleagues on Tinder.

Fluff.

Want more?

———————————————————————

“Why don’t you just give it a try?” One of your friends suggested, “It’s not like you’ll be committing to anything.”

And when you told them there are other ways to meet new people, such as dating apps, they laughed so hard that you felt offended. “You don’t trust your own shadow,” one of them said, “how could you possibly trust a couple of pictures and a few messages before meeting a stranger?”

They were right; not only had it been months since your last date, but your trust issues weren’t helping. So you listened to your friends and decided to give it a shot. This could be your opportunity to get “back on the horse.”

They wanted to come to your house a few hours before to advise you on what to wear—it seems like it wasn’t just you who had trust issues. “You have a thing with self-sabotage,” one of them admitted, “and we don’t want you to portray yourself as less than who you really are.” A bolt claim from Jessica, the master of self-sabotage, who kept bailing her partner out of jail because he was constantly breaking into people’s houses.

You politely declined, promising to do your best. You chose a little black dress, opaque tights, and black heels. You let your hair down for once, since the army wouldn’t let you, and applied some make-up—but not too much—to enhance your features.

The speed dating event is held in a trendy downtown bar. The room is crammed with small tables, each with two chairs facing each other. You take a deep breath and walk over to the registration desk. You sign up, fill out a form with your information, and they hand you a name tag.

“This Is What You Came For” plays over the speakers, and you can’t help but wonder what made the DJ choose that song. What did I come here for, Rihanna? You think to yourself. To tell a stranger in three minutes about my food preferences and favourite colour? Is that what will ensure compatibility?

Your nerves start to kick in, so you rush to the bar. Your options are limited to beer or wine, according to the bartender. When you ask why, he starts narrating the horrors he’s seen of people attempting to calm their nerves with shots before the speed date. You choose wine and turn to face the people you’re about to meet in three-minute rounds. A few catch your eye; some look intimidated, while others appear overconfident and exuberant. “Peacocks”, as you call them.

The event organiser announces the beginning of the event, and you make your way to your assigned table. Dread grips you. What if you don’t meet anyone interesting? What if everyone you talk to is dull or uninteresting? You take a seat and wait for the event to start.

The first guy who sits down is a health freak, to put it mildly. He gets up at 4 a.m., lifts “hard” for two hours, goes to work, and waits until his next workout at around 6 p.m. He says he likes chicken because of its high protein content and asks what your favourite food is, to which you respond, “Haribos,” to piss him off.

The next one is a cryptocurrency investor. Enough said.

The third guy is a motivational speaker. You’re unsure about the “motivational” part, but he’s undeniably a “speaker.” He doesn’t. Stop. Talking. He only asks for your name, which you don’t have to say because it’s written on your tag. He then starts mumbling about books he’s read and the importance of a proper and consistent morning routine. He and Mr Health Freak could have easily become soul mates, you think to yourself.

Three minutes pass like hours, and you lower your head to the table. This was a mistake. Coming here was, as you suspected, a bad idea.

“I see you’ve already given up.” The man in front of you comments with a smile.

You look up and meet his gaze. He is tall and well-built, with short blonde hair and dark brown eyes. But it’s his sleeve tattoo that draws your attention.

It’s familiar to you. You’ve seen it before, peeking through a military uniform and tactical gloves.

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

You’d never seen him without his mask, but his build, voice, and tattoos are distinct. Your heart is racing as you struggle to remain calm. He, too, appears surprised. Did he not recognise you at first because of your make-up and hair?

Well, it seems like he recognises you now. But you’re not supposed to acknowledge his true identity; doing so might destroy everything he’s worked so hard to keep hidden all these years. It may also jeopardise your professional relationship.

But, my God, he’s hot. He’s exactly as you imagined him, if not better. It’d be best to act as cool as possible. Ignorant, stupid, call it whatever you want—just don’t reveal his identity. There are tens of thousands of people named Simon, and you are not supposed to give your surname to the other person here. So all you know about him is his name. He could be any of the other “Simons” out there.

You immediately put on a happy-go-lucky face and smile, trying to muster the courage to date your lieutenant for three minutes.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you reply, trying to play it cool.

He fidgets in his seat, still feeling uneasy. You need to act quickly.

“Yes, I’m about to give up,” you moan and pout, “so please, for the love of God, be a decent one.”

He lets out an awkward chuckle. “I’m not sure about that,” he says.

“Oh, really?” You exclaim, raising your eyebrows, “Unless you speak nonchalantly about yourself, chuck twelve egg yolks in the morning, or boast about imaginary coins, you’re good.”

“Ah,” he says hesitantly, “no, I prefer my eggs cooked.”

“Boiled, scrambled, or sunny side up?”

“I don’t mind as long as they’re cooked properly.” He responds, and you raise your fist to your mouth.

“I assume no runny egg whites?” You ask, making a disgusted face.

“Christ, no.” He smiles and shakes his head.

He appears more at ease now, thinking you haven’t identified him.

But then another problem arises. When dating, one of the first questions you usually ask is about the other person’s occupation.

“So, Simon,” you say, “what do you do for a living?”

“I, um, work as an operator,” he replies. “And you?”

That was a wise move on his part. He knows you’ll relate if he discloses his primary occupation, and you’ll start speculating. So he decided to reveal his side job. Although he is not completely honest with you, which could be interpreted as a red flag, there is a serious reason behind his answer.

“I’m a sergeant in the military,” you admit.

He nods and smirks but doesn’t ask a follow-up question.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m not very good at this.”

“Neither am I,” you chuckle, “but I can help you.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“Do you prefer cats or dogs, Simon?”

“I like both,” he says, “I can’t have a preference for animals; they aren’t eggs.”

“Phew!” You exclaim, theatrically placing the back of your hand on your forehead, “most of the men I met today hate cats!”

“Yeah,” Simon agrees. “I believe it’s because they don’t have control over them like dogs.”

“I feel bad for most of the women in here,” you say, looking around, “for settling for such controlling personalities.”

“How do you know I’m not controlling?” He asks, his brow furrowed.

“Men whose job is to order soldiers around, tend to live a more chilled lifestyle.” You elaborate.

“Order soldiers?” He asks, and you immediately stiffen up. “How do you know I order soldiers at my work?”

“I, um, assume you do because of your profession.” You stutter and look down at your lap.

“I said I’m an operator,” he smirks, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, “but I never said what kind of operator I am.”

Your chair has turned into a hot seat all of a sudden.

“From what you know, I could be a heavy machinery operator.” He adds, his smile widening.

You blush and turn to look at the clock; time’s almost up.

He leans forward to the table. “Why such eagerness to end our date, sergeant?” he whispers, “I thought we were doing so well.”

You raise your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, Lt.,” you admit, “I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I appreciate that,” he says, “but knowing that you know who I am is already uncomfortable, don’t you think?”

You look down again, and he continues.

“Perhaps it would have been better to acknowledge the elephant in the room from the beginning.” He explains.

You let out a sigh. “You’re right,” you say, “I should have been more honest.”

He nods, and the bell rings for your next date. Simon gets up from his chair and smiles at you.

“Normally, I’d end this with a nice to meet you,” he says, “but in this case, it’s more of a nice getting to know you better,” he adds, extending his hand for a handshake.

You stand up and take his hand in yours. “Likewise, Lt.,” you say, smiling.

“See you tomorrow,” he says.

“For another date?” You joke, “You move too fast, Simon.”

“For the best military drill of your life,” he corrects you with a smirk, “for thinking you could fool me so easily.”

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

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milaisreading · 10 months

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🌱🩷:Blue lock au where Y/n got invited to join the Blue Lock program as a player. She crossdresses as a boy and is friends with Reo and Nagi (they don't know she is a girl). I didn't change much abt Y/n's appearance, except that I made her around 5'10" tall and that she has a similar hairstyle to Chigiri's (the color is up to you, tho)

Warnings: None in particular. Reader uses she/her when narrating, otherwise the characters use he/him for Y/n. Requests are open for this AU.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

'Blue Lock... so this will be my new escape...' (Y/n) gulped as she looked at the building in front of herself. She saw a lot of people, well known high school players enter the place, making her nervous over the whole idea. Sure, she was excited over finally leaving her home, her adoptive parents for a while, but she was just entering a bigger hell than she already left. Now, some might be confused what a girl was doing at Blue Lock? A project meant for the best football players in Japanese high schools. For male football players. Well, the question was pretty easy to answer, kinda. (Y/n) was adopted at a pretty young age into a somewhat well-off family, but the life she had wasn't the best. Her parents always wanted to have only boys, and while they had 2 biological sons, they didn't want to have a daughter.

'The only reason we adopted you was because I was indebted to your father.' She shuddered as she remembered her adopted father's words. (Y/n) knew they didn't want her, so she did her best to survive the household till she can be free. One of the ways was giving into her parents' demands on changing her personality and appearance to suit a stereotypical guy. (Y/n) didn't want that, at all, but for now she had to be someone she wasn't.

'At least they let me grow out my hair... and they allowed me to leave to this football camp.' She thought, touching a few strands of her (h/c) hair.

"Hey! Earth to (Y/n), are you alright?" She jumped, looking over at her teammates, Nagi and Reo. The two looked at her in worry for a moment, which caused her to smile and nod her head.

"I am fine! Don't worry... Just a little nervous." She thought as Reo grabbed her hand and pulled her into the building while Nagi followed after them.

"Don't be. All three of us are highly ranked football players, I am sure this thing will be a walk in the park for us." Reo laughed.

"Yeah, you worry too much." Nagi yawned as they got into the main hall where the other players were. (Y/n) recognized some from her previous matches, and some were unfamiliar.

'Oh... that Kira guy was invited here too? Figures, he was a good opponent back then...' She thought, recognizing the white haired boy. She then turned her attention to another guy standing next to Kira, they seemed pretty close.

'Who is he? I never saw him before...' (Y/n) thought while observing the blue-eyed boy.

'That sprout is cute tho.' She smiled, noticing the few strands of hair that were sticking out.

"Who are you looking at? Come on, we need to catch up to Reo." Nagi ground as he tugged on the pants of her uniform.

"H-huh? Nobody! Let's hurry up." She said, glancing a few more times at the unknown boy.

They soon reached Reo, only for him to scold the duo for getting lost.

"Congratulations, you unpolished lumps of talent." The trio froze for a moment and then looked at the stage, only to find a guy with bowl-cut black hair and glasses looking at all of them.

"Who is he?" (Y/n) muttered.

"Dunno." Nagi shrugged.

"What did he just call us?" Reo wondered.

"According to my personal judgment the 300 of you are the best strikers under 18. My name is Jinpachi Ego and I was hired to give Japan a World Cup victory." Everyone kept silent as (Y/n) stared at Ego in shock.

'World Cup victory? Japan can't qualify for semi-finals, what does he mean by victory?' She thought skeptically.

"I'll say this plainly. One thing is needed for Japanese soccer to become the best in the world: the birth of a revolutionary striker. From you 300 players gathered here today, I will forge the best striker in the world through a certain project."

Ego continued his speech, not giving anyone time to digest anything.

"What a bore." Nagi groaned, earning a kick to his leg by (Y/n).

"Shh." She warned, then looked back at Ego.

"All of them revolutionary strikers!! Their extraordinary egoism is the one thing Japan’s football lacks. You will not become the greatest strikers in the world, unless you have the ego to match. My purpose here, is to create such a player in Japan."

'Egoism? Shouldn't football be treated as a team sport? What good does it bring to act like that on the field?' (Y/n) raised her eyebrow, tuning out whatever Reo and Nagi were saying.

As Ego kept on talking, (Y/n) was getting lost in her thoughts.

'So we are basically training for our national team now... Getting out of one hellhole into another, but at least here... at least here I feel a little bit more like myself, as odd as it sounds. While I can't tell to anyone I am not a guy, at least I can play the sport that always saved me from going insane.' (Y/n) thought, looking back at the crowd as Ego finished his speech. (Y/n) listened as he talked about reaching the goal he set up for them, and if the players who were gathered had what it takes to become a striker. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the boy from before rush to a open door, and something struck her. She wasn't sure what it was, but something about him and the look he held in his eyes made her hypnotized, and she quickly ran after him.

'Who are you? And what's up with you?' She sprinted faster after him, ignoring Reo and Nagi's calls, both desperate to catch up with her.

"Huh? Thank you... so you said I am in Team X, Teieri-san?" (Y/n) asked the woman, who smiled and nodded her head.

"Yes, that's just down the corridor. I will keep your phone and other items safe while you are at our facility." (Y/n) thanked the woman and started walking down the hallway, looking at all the rooms in curiosity.

'Probably the storages...' She thought.

'This place is like a prison, but I can welcome it. I wonder how I will keep myself hidden now... now that I have to share a room and everything with some dudes.' She cringed and sighed, then slowly walked into Team X's room. Inside were, as expected a bunch of other guys, some changing, some just talking.

'Oh brother....' She thought, looking to the side.

"Ah? You are our other teammate?" A guy with brownish hair asked.

"Y-yes! (L/n) (Y/n) is my name." She said in a little bit deeper voice.

"(Y/n)? Isn't that a girl's name?" Another guy asked while walking up to the duo.

"My parents have a thing for feminine names." She answered with the same lie she's been using for years.

"Wait... (Y/n)... (L/n) (Y/n)? Hakuho's eagle?"

"What?" (Y/n) she raised her eyebrow as a blonde approached them.

"You are known as a beast with those precise shots. I should have expected someone like you being here."

"Ah... thanks." (Y/n) answered, unsure what was going on at this point. By now a group has been formed around her and the guys started asking her different questions, until someone cleared his throat.

"Can you donkeys shut up?"

(Y/n) tensed up and looked at a pair of red eyes staring directly at her.

'Ahhh!! Scary!' She thought.

"Sorry, Barou." A few sighed out as the boy and (Y/n) had a stare down.

"Barou... I know you. You are that guy from Akudo Academy. We played against you at the quarterfinals." (Y/n) recalled, remembering the sheer force he used back then.

"So what about it?" The boy asked, obviously annoyed that she brought that up. Some of the teammates backed away, scared of a possible infight.

"Nothing-"

"I see you unpolished lumps have all found your room." The group looked at the monitor, only to find Ego staring down at them.

"Good, now it's time for the first elimination round."

"What?" (Y/n) and Barou asked at the same time.

"Every team in our 5 buildings is playing a game of tag, in a football way. You will be given a football, the person you hit with it will be it, and will chase someone else." Ego started explaining as a football fell from the ceiling, landing between Barou and (Y/n). The duo glanced at the item and then at each other.

"You are given 2 minutes. The person who stays it when the time runs out, is eliminated from Blue Lock..." The room fell into a tense silence.

"And, subsequently they are losing the opportunity to ever play for Japan."

"Haaa?!" Barou and (Y/n) yelled in shock.

"That's rediculous, how is a game of tag going to help here?" Barou wondered.

"Especially if you only give us 2 minutes."

"2 minutes is the most a player spends in the possession of the ball during a game. Now hurry up. On your sleeves you will see your current rankings, the one with the lowest is the 1st it."

(Y/n) quickly went to look at hers and scanned the tag.

"Currently the highest ranked one here is (L/n) (Y/n), at 252."

"How does this ranking even work?" She wondered to herself as the screen flashed the name of the first it. She looked at the boy and felt a little sad, he looked pretty meek.

"Donkey." Barou started, hitting (Y/n)'s head.

"Ow! What? And did you just call me a donkey?" She asked in disbelief.

"Don't get too distracted, can't have you eliminated this soon." Barou warned, confusing the girl a little.

"What? Why would you care?"

"Because I still need to prove to you that I am far better than you are."

The girl sweatdropped as the siren signaled the start, causing everyone to disparage across the room. She watched as the boy nervously looked around before his eyes fell on her.

'Shit.' She thought, dodging the ball that came flying to her.

"Huh? Why aren't you kicking back? You are the higher rank here." Barou questioned, annoyed at her move.

"What? The goal here is not to be it!" She watched as the ball bounced off the wall and back to the boy, who seemed more and more determined to get her instead of someone else.

'I can't be eliminated.... I don't want to go back home...' (Y/n) thought, glaring back at him.

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #bllk x reader #reo mikage #chigiri hyoma #blue lock nagi #bachira meguru #kunigami rensuke #itoshi rin #barou shouei #alternative universe #crossdressing #female reader

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therabbitthatpostthings · 3 months

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Okay let's talk about Reality in Welcome Home.

YES THIS IS JUST ME RAMBLING AGAIN BUT I SWEAR I HAVE A POINT TO MAKE. This is more of my collecting my thoughts and trying to make sense of what we have right now.

TLDR: The reality of Welcome Home is separated by the "fourth wall" that the characters are not aware of except for few.

So ever since the first update after the website launched I have been wondering about where the reality shift lies in Welcome Home. How can this be a haunted puppet show with no notable names for actors, production crew, puppeteers, etc. I was basically trying to figure out if this was Hello Puppets or My Friendly Neighbourhood kind of situation. Especially after Sally's Halloween Story, it came ever more clear that they are not fully aware of the fact that people are filming them.

This past update has somewhat solidified what I think is happening. The Welcome Home Puppet show exist in it's own version of reality literally separated by the fourth wall. The neighbours are completely unaware that they are puppets, being filmed, etc. The idea that a magic narrator can talk to them is normal (as it is in many children's cartoons, the Narrator from The Powerpuff Girls and The Storyteller from Into the Woods comes to mind). This really all comes together for me alongside the theory that some of the neighbours are self-aware. I'm not gonna argue who is and who isn't but I don believe the Neighbours featured in promotional material that directly speaks to the viewers or anything outside the show are aware.

(Note: It would be a big stretch to say the things like the TV and radio apprenticed were staged or faked by the Welcome Home Crew)

I think the ones most aware are Wally, Barnaby, Frank and Howdy. Everyone else is rather slowly becoming aware or going through the motions like Eddie. Wally and Barnaby are self-explanatory, they are closest to Home and the Narrator(s). Frank by the way of the Bug Theory and the fact that he "breaks script" to comfort Eddie. Howdy is because I cannot think of a way that he would participate in those commercials without knowing somehow. If Home really is antagonistic towards the Neighbours, I can believe they would act in line. Also during Eddie's panic attack, he doesn't move ever after expresses him desire to leave, because he can't move. He's a puppet. It's worth noting that everyone else has a puppeteer accept Wally and Home. Wally has a handler and Home's eyes are the only thing on it that can move via a crank on the side of it not showing to the camera.

I believe the cartoon reality is the one that the puppets see and why in all of Wally's answer videos we see it in IRL footage. He is not blind to what the show is doing. Eddie's panic attack shows up that what they see and we see are very different. This isn't like a foolproof way of thinking because it leaves a lot of holes but most of those holes have to do with things I believe will be answered later. Like:

What exactly is Home and the power Home has over the Neighbours?

Why did the show shut down?

The benefactor sending the packages

Why is Wally the one that remains? Where are the others?

Why were we able to see what Eddie and Wally sees outside of the reality they exist in?

etc.

Thats last point is still up in the air for me because that easier could of been a storyteller point but the fact that Welcome Home narrator and logo pops up at the end of the Homewarming Special alludes that everything Eddie went through we saw. Or at least it was filmed and probably cut out of the official broadcast.

I don't have any answers. What we do know now is that the show shut down, someone is still present and sending packages to the WHRP and Playfellow. This mysterious black goop has the power to influence those in contact with it, even causing loss of time. The WHRP went through an investigation internally and in the website. W is a part of the website and actively doing their own investigation after "supposedly" making contact with Wally in the post-halloween/pre-March 9th update (which you can see btw on the Wayback Machine). Wally, regardless if he is the one sending the packages, is using them to communicate. He wants someone to find him because he KNOWS we are watching and we are looking for him.

Personally I believe Home or whatever entity is controlling it, is sending the packages and trying to control others. I think Wally is a by product of all this and is trying to find his way out by any means necessary. I will never let my "Wally did nothing wrong" propaganda go.

This all btw does nothing to answer the mystery on the website. I have no idea how this reality breaking allowed Wally yo infiltrate the website. The fact that his eyes are no longer visible on the page means he's not here watching us (for now). Also the "You" character description is missing. As far as the Bug theory goes, I still believe that is Frank trying to give us more insight on what happened/happening. Same goes for W, who we know is human since they described the same events of the phone ringing and hearing Wally that the curator did. I don't believe this is Wally vs the Neighbours. I think this is the neighbours being physically or metaphorically trapped while not able to reach Wally they can reach this website and are doing the same as Wally, reaching out to us. I still believe Home/Entity has some control over them and is connected to who is sending the packages and infecting the WHRP and Playfellow. W is also apart of WHRP but has taken notice to everything going around and is choosing to document their findings since the WHRP is starting to run a tighter ship after the last slip up of W (probably) contacting Wally.

Hopefully this made sense to you guys...

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #clownillustrations #partycoffin #welcome home eddie #Eddie dear #frank frankly #welcome home frank #welcome home barnaby #welcome home wally #wally darling #welcome home w #welcome home theory

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deviousnarrator · 4 months

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Everything you've ever known about Mantra is WRONG.

Over a year ago.

I joined the community completely unaware of how to start with creating Mantra lore, I joined a few trends that were organized to be complete shitposts. The gluetrap was kinda the way he was introduced to Tumblr. Looking back at it now, it kinda bugs me that I couldn't clarify it, not being canon.. As I didn't have really ANYTHING to work with at the time with his canonical lore, considering it blew up so much, it was what I was gossiping over at the time.. Not realizing that it may be what idolized him.

Now that I'm feeling a bit more comfortable with Mantra's character and lore, something that I've noticed is how it may be impacting how others started to get to know him as a narrator. I feel comfortable coming out to properly execute the false information of what felt canon. I do want to focus a bit more on his seriousness of his character.

As for the scar situation, I already plan to explain that in his backstory once it is done. As for any AU interactions, there are parts I'm tackling to rearrange for some actual relationship bonds that he has with people. A lot of it is still questionable gaps.

Im asking you guys to please keep in mind that those trends are AUs, not CANON.

first chain:

second chain:

@blackkatdraws did the thumbnail

#tsp #tsp narrator #the stanley parable #narrator tsp #stanley parable ultra deluxe #stanley parable #tspud #narratorverse #Mantra Lore Information #Can I get your attention please #announcement #alternate au #paraverse #alternate universe

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rozaceous · 4 months

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ive read mdzs years ago and stalled on tgcf (mainly bc i got really busy and then forgot everything lmao), but never really tried scum villain. if you don't mind, can you share why you like it? personally, the summary didn't really draw me in and the animation looked unfortunately really .... low budget.

hi anon! you've activated my trap card, which is Talking About Things I Enjoy At Length! congratulations! congratulations! congratulations! important things must be said three times!

(i also stalled w tgcf btw, bc it's so long that i could never summon up sufficient interest. and i will say that the svsss donghua is less than inspiring. i thought it was fun but that's speaking as someone who watched it after already being in love w the source content, so ymmv. i wasn't a particular fan of the animation style either, but considering that scum villain is the black sheep of mxtx's works in terms of the official content that gets produced, i was glad for what i could get.)

reasons to love scum villain!

hilarious use of unreliable narrator. shen qingqiu is one of my top favorite characters ever. he's not stupid or even, despite common fan depiction, all that oblivious--he's just incredibly genre-savvy and hasn't realized that the genre has changed. also he's hysterical.

but then sometimes, too, you look more objectively at things he glosses over and have a 'wait a sec' moment bc it's actually deeply disturbing.

it has a really fun way of of playing with transmigration stories and tropes. this was, in a sense, my intro to chinese web novel conventions as a western reader, and you can learn a lot bc mxtx is busy poking fun at all of them.

phenomenally meta.

luo binghe is a fantastic character. ppl who don't like him--i'll meet you out back. ostensibly the protagonist of the novel sqq has found himself in, supposedly blessed with every talent and the world prepared to fall at his feet, but MAN is it hard being luo binghe.

ppl will make a big deal abt lbh being obsessed w sqq but fail to acknowledge that sqq is just as weird and obsessed abt lbh. epitome of that AITA response of:

liu qingge

mxtx does so much with her villains, always.

as much as some of the miscommunication between sqq and lbh is contrived, it's also literally the only way that things could play out and makes absolute sense.

this classic scene, given utterly without context:

After a pause, Shen Qingqiu changed his angle. "What's your name?" The first one replied. "Six Balls." "What does that mean?" "When I was born, my pa held me and said I was six balls heavy." Shen Qingqiu was speechless. Shot put balls or ping-pong balls?! This kind of name is absolutely meaningless.

i think, honestly, my favorite thing abt scum villain is that you can read it quickly and have a good time, but if you're taking your time and paying attention, there is so much more happening underneath the surface! it's such a clever book, i'm honestly stunned (and humbled) that mxtx produced this as her first novel and at such a young age.

#this is just a small taste of what makes it so brilliant imo #fanon as always exaggerates and flattens certain things but it can be a v fun fandom too #i would also make sure that you read the extras if you decide to give it a go bc they're really something #but yeah! i love svsss!#internet user demands answers #svsss

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cripplecharacters · 1 month

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Hello! I need advice for writing a character with oculocutaneous albinism who’s a platonic love interest without descriptions of her coming off as fetishising albinism. Her name is Glass and she’s blind and an investigative journalist and will be a reoccurring character in the series. The MC is gay and he describes her very affectionately in the narrative. When she’s introduced he fondly points out (to the reader) a lot of traits about her including things related to her albinism like “slightly wavy snow white hair in a fashionable bob and striking dark blue eyes that gently danced back and forth. One eye was pointing slightly inwards as she tilted her head and smirked at him.” I got the “dancing eyes” idea from a short film made by someone with albinism and nystagmus. I’m going to try and describe other traits about her more, especially about her personality to counter this.

I also have a question that might be too specific? I’m planning on giving her a little brother with ocular albinism, OA. If someone has a daughter with OCA are they more likely to have a son with OA or are the two kinds of albinism genetically unrelated? I wanted to include him to have more then one blind character in the story. Thanks for your time. :) -Anon Blue.

Hi! We don't currently have mods with Albinism, so I'll try my best. I recommend our #albinism representation tag for resources made by people with it! :-)

If you don't put most of the attention of how she looks to her hair or skin color, I think it should be fine. It's okay to mention it - I mean, that's just how she is, would be kinda weird to fully ignore it - but don't make other characters or the narrator gush over her paleness or eye color every time she comes up. Change it up and praise her fashion sense (like you did with her hairstyle!), the shape of her nose, how bushy her eyebrows are, or how her gums show when she's smiling instead! Her appearance shouldn't be reduced to just "girl with albinism" - give her other visual traits! :-) For other descriptors, I would avoid making her "angelic" or "ethereal" because of her disability. Remember to not make it mystic or magical; there's a whole "Magical Albino" trope out here that you should try to avoid.

You mentioning nystagmus and strabismus is great! Those are often forgotten or ignored in characters with albinism because they're not seen as "pretty". I've seen some people describe their nystagmus as "dancing eyes" before too, I think it's a very cool of conveying it!

In general, a good way to avoid fetishization is to include the "boring/mundane" things. When you show the medical parts of albinism like the esotropia, avoiding the sun, having her use a white cane or a guide animal, or using Braille, the representation will be more informed overall and not just an "aesthetic" - which a lot of characters with albinism unfortunately end up being. There's a big difference between a blind journalist guided by a German shepherd who happens to not have melanin and needs a Big Hat, and an evil sniper with bright red eyes and mysterious powers. I hope this makes sense!

In case that Glass is Black, I'd recommend looking at the #albinism tag at @writingwithcolor - it's always good to make sure your descriptions don't come off as unintentionally colorist if you go into her skin color. Things like describing her as more frail or delicate (when compared to other Black characters) would be in poor taste, so look out for that intersectionality if it applies!

The brother with ocular albinism part; those two types are completely unrelated, and it would be incredibly rare (not impossible) for that to happen as far as I know. For reference, almost all OCA (1-7) and OA (1-2) types are caused by completely different genes. The only exception could be OA1 and OA3; we don't currently know what causes the third one, and there's a theory that it's just a different presentation of the first. But I'm not aware of anything like that for oculocutaneous albinism, so if Glass has OCA1 (as I'm assuming from the description), her brother would have OCA1 as well (as opposed to OCA3 or any other subtype) if anything!

One interesting thing that you could do to have him have OA that I never see in fiction is to have him be adopted. I know multiple families who had a child with a certain disability and decided to adopt a second (or third, or fourth...) one with it! I think it could be very cool and would make sense with him being the younger one. Here is an interview/vlog from a real-life family with six adopted blind kids, if you want an example of that :-)

Wanting to include multiple blind characters is a great idea - if adoption doesn't work for your story, he could have the same type of albinism as Glass or have a non-genetic cause of blindness, like CVI, Retinopathy of Prematurity, glaucoma, or a whole lot of other things!

A story about a blind investigative journalist sounds awesome! Good luck with your writing!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anon Blue #albinism representation #writing descriptions #intersectionality #blindness #fetishization of disability

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foolsocracy · 1 month

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Hi, hello, I’m new to your blog. I’ve made myself at home. Lovely carpet.

Can I please know more about your spider Robbie pie? Can’t seem to find the silverware.

but of course, kind anon

Spider Robbie is an au in which Robbie Robertson takes up the spider mantle after the death of the one before him. He is the third, following Ben Urich and, most notably, Peter Parker.

This au is very much canon divergence from Eyes Without a Face, where Peter makes it in time to save Robbie from his original fate but dies in the process. Peter is shot while rushing Robbie and the others out. In his panic and elation at finding Robbie physically unharmed, Peter outs himself as the Spider Man to his best friend. Robbie stays with him as he bleeds out and resolves to continue to hide Peter's identity.

Peter is buried and remains that way for... an undetermined amount of time.

Robbie is left with a mask, a jacket, and the question of just who was this other half of his friend. As he learns more of who this... Spider Man was, he gets more and more involved in the spider's cases and conflicts. Robbie gets more sure of his own abilities and makes a bit of a name for the Spider Man within his own community, though the people of Harlem are largely unaware that the appearances of a masked vigilante match the interests of one Robbie Robertson.

It is to be noted that none of these aforementioned abilities are spider-god-induced powers like Peter's. Robbie, especially at the beginning of his spidering career, leans more into Urich's role than Parker's. To me, Robbie has been passionate about the press and journalism in a way that Peter never was. For Pete, his job as a photographer and reporter was a job he took until he could get into college and study science. Robbie has a way with words and communication that Peter frankly lacks. Of course, that isn't to say that Robbie won't be kicking ass, because he will. It will just take him a bit of time to get some of those skills as he's, well, a normal guy. Not everyone can get their biology scrambled like Pete.

And just because Robbie hasn't been scrambled doesn't mean he's completely separate from all things supernatural either!

I think the marvel noir universe is at its best when there's a magical, supernatural undercurrent. This concept isn't super prevalent in the actual comics, but HoplesslyLost on ao3 has done some really cool world building with it.

I think in Robbie's case, where he would be the narrator, "magical realism" would be an interesting avenue to take it. I use this term in particular because I most closely relate it to Toni Morrison in my head, when I first learned about it through her work in high school. For Morrison, the concept was inseparable to blackness and I think for Robbie, where his blackness is so central to his character and his motivations, drawing on that could be more of a service to his character. It feels better to do that than ignore how incredibly racialized his society and story is. It will make his relationship with the spider god, Peter (who I will get to very very shortly), his community, and his own mythos as The Spider Man really interesting and complex.

So it's been established that Robbie doesn't have spider powers. And we all know that Peter did-- or should I say does. One of the spider god's abilities is to bring Peter back to life. She does this in the comics, but not in any of the runs from 2008-2010 (the runs that make up this au). When Peter dies on Ellis Island, he does not think he is coming back from that. Waking up again is a surprise.

Here's where I think the au really takes a left turn. Do I think the Spider God is purely evil and spiteful and has it out for Pete? No, not really. Will I be ramping said traits up to 11 for the au? Yeah, I guess I might. This is because I love a little bit of horror and the came back wrong trope. I will hopefully be fleshing the spider god out in the near future, but I really haven't given her the many hours of thought I have the other characters. For that I'm sorry spider god </3

Peter digs himself out of his grave, more spider than he ever has been. For much of his new, waking life he is more animalistic than not. There is clearly something wrong with him; his joints are too flexible and loose, he's got some eye-shine going on, his skin is pale and his veins are starkly dark beneath it. He's possessed. Someone is puppeteering him, someone who knows a lot-- almost everything about him, but it's clear that the someone isn't him.

And Peter--- the body, it can't be Peter. At least, that's what Robbie thinks when the figure catches his eye the first time. Because Peter is dead and buried, and he has been dead and buried for weeks.

#WOAH this is long #while still not saying much... mweh heh heh #other notes that i don't know how to add in w/out derailing the main vague explanation of the au:#the trio shifts from Peter & Robbie & MJ to Robbie & MJ & Gloria #robbie and his girl gang #and u all know me for my robbienoir shipping well.... Peter's romantic feelings for Robbie are a major point of some parts of this au #get possessed gay boy #Toni Morrison might be a bit out of left field here but I love her work so much and I actually listen to her interviews #to get a grasp on how I want robbie's language to flow. I am NOT eloquent but she has such a way w words when she just SPEAKS #her and the rapper Milo lol #i should give this a read through but im not. ill see all my mistakes tomorrow LOL #spider robbie au #spider noir #my art #peter benjamin parker #robbie robertson #ben urich #asks #anon #thanks for the ask!!!#hope you find your utensils alright

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mysterymeatmunchr · 2 months

Text

Barkback Mountain By The MeatMunchr

Authors notes:

3.3k words, one shot, FTM MLM

This is basically my “If Brokeback Mountain was two trans male cowboys fucking raw and nasty in the woods” fantasy. Oh, and also they’re both into pet play.

Content Warnings:

Consensual Fighting/Impact play, Struggling/Struggle Fucking, Blood, Spit, Knives, Cutting, Degradation, Pet Play, Brief light CNC

Character Descriptions:

I didn’t name the characters because I want readers to be able to think of whoever they want, BUT I did picture what they look like to me. You can picture them differently if you would like to.

The Narrator:

FTM, bear, butch, short and stout, broad shouldered, muscular but not toned, beer bellied, full dark thick and curly body hair, full trimmed beard, chest length loose dark curls, wide calloused hands, dark hooded eyes, broad browed, and strong featured.

He wears a black cattleman hat, a dark denim shirt, dark denim pants, brown boots, and a silver bolo tie.

The Lover:

FTM, otter/cub, butch, short, muscular and toned, broad shouldered, full thick dark curly body hair, full overgrown stubble, brow length loose brown curls, brown soft downturned eyes, and soft featured.

He wears a tan cattleman hat, a blue denim shirt, blue denim pants, and tan boots.

————

As I stand in the clearing waiting for him to arrive, I wonder if he’s gotten lost again. I was sure to give him plenty of markers to look out for on the way, and it isn’t all that hard once you reach the creek, but for a cowhand he sure is poor at finding his way. I’ve waited this long to see him again, I’m sure I can wait moments longer until he stumbles upon the clearing. I find a stump to rest on while I wait with my thoughts to keep me company. The excitement and nerves tangle up my insides, but I can manage a stoic front.

It isn’t too long before a rustling comes from the trees and a familiar form appears. A man close to my height, a little more on the slender side compared to my burly stout build and beer fattened stomach, but still stocky enough to keep up with the other cattlemen. Unlike the others, we both hold the same secret. We knew from the day we set eyes on each other we were different from the others. It was an unspoken kinship, something in our eyes that screamed out to each other, ‘I know what you are.’ It wasn’t long before we started having our little… meetings…

As the other man approaches I stand to greet him, “Took you long enough,” His dark unkempt curls are spilling out from under his hat and his blue denim fit him well, starched like a gentleman for a special occasion. “You know I’ve never met a cowhand as directionless as you. It’s damn near shameful.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” he says with a smile.

“I wasn’t lost this time, I saw something a ways back by the creek and stopped for it.”

The man sets down his pack next to mine, then lifts his tan hat up revealing a white handkerchief tied up into a sack, peppered with deep dark stains. He hands me the parcel from atop his head. I untie the knots revealing blackberries bursting with juice.

“Well, this is mighty kind of you, thank you. I apologize for my comments.” I bit into a berry and he did the same, the dark juice pooling between his teeth like a beautiful premonition of what’s to come. “It’s nice to see you too.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks me. His brown eyes glowing gold in the tree filtered sunlight.

“Of course I do, the hardest part is deciding whether or not I’m letting you throw the first punch,” I said, trying and failing to wipe a smirk off my face. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

“I’m not,” his tone was serious. “I want this, and this time, I’m gonna win.”

“It’s cute that you think that pretty boy, we’ll see.” I take off my bolo tie and denim shirt, fold up the shirt and place it on top of my pack along with my black cattlemen hat. My partner does similarly and we head to the center of the clearing.

…

Blow after blow, noses and mouths bloodied, the metallic taste on our teeth fuels something deeply primal and terrifying within us as we spit and growl and scream at each other. The sweat, blood, and dirt on him fills my lungs. The smell is sickeningly sweet. He socks me square in my jaw. I roar before spitting out the blood. ‘Enough,’ I think to myself. I shove the smaller man to the ground, eyes aflame, no longer recognizing the beautiful boy I’ve bloodied, bruised, and beaten. My muscles ache, wrestling him into submission, our bodies woven together in a desperate battle for dominance. I finally pin him down on his back, straddling his hips, gripping both his wrists hard enough to bruise. He’s banging his head into the earth, thrashing his arms and legs, trying and failing to free himself from the heavy strength and weight of me. He howls out a deep, defeated, guttural scream. His teeth bared and snarling, with strings of bloody spit weaving through his hateful mouth.

I smile as he spits on my face. I look him in the eyes smug as I lick his spit off the side of my mouth.

“You’re disgusting,” he hisses through gritted teeth, knowing I’d won, knowing he wants me to dominate him and he hates me for it.

I hold him there still for a moment to take in my work. I need to see it, the hate and lust and defeat. Angry tears well up in his eyes as the blood rushes in and swells up my already leaky tcock.

I crash into his lips devouring him while he lets out little curses between each breath, he breaks my desperation with a bite to my lip. He gives me all the spite in his body until he draws blood. I smile, lip still caught between his teeth, as I grab his jaw digging my fingers into his bruised cheeks to release myself. I’m thankful for it, he just gave me a reason to pull away and strike his face hard with an open hand. I spit on his pitiful, beautiful, beaten face and strike him once more. I lap it up off his cheek along with the blood and dirt like a ravenous dog, unable to stop myself from grinding against his struggling hips. The degradation of him is burning up something hateful and angry and shameful inside me.

I move his wrists into one of my hands, keeping him pinned as I reach for my hunting knife. Savoring the fear in his eyes, I hold the blade to his throat.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” I whisper into his ear.

Keeping him at knife point I get up and hastily kick off my boots and tear off my jeans and drawers. I know I already have him, he’ll be good and stay put for me, but I’m just too impatient, I want to defile him so badly.

I crash back down to the earth to rip off his jeans. I can hear his ragged breaths through the leaves singing in the wind. I slash through his drawers with my knife, before tracing down his stomach with the blunt side of the blade. He knows what’s coming next. I press the tip of my knife into his thigh and drag slowly, his body tenses and he whimpers. The sound sends blood rushing to my pulsing heat. I’ve marked him with another tally, another loss, permanently scarred next to seven previous defeats. I don’t know when this part of the ritual began but I fell in love with how humiliating this is, especially for him, knowing my thigh bears only three marks and his now holds eight. A tear rolls down his soiled cheek as I force open his legs, pinning up one of his thighs before holding my knife back up at his throat. I look into his eyes hazed with fear and lust, without words, I’m commanding him, not asking, yet still he nods his head. It’s more permission than I needed to mount him. Dripping and hungry, I grind my boycunt against his. His defiance and anger is melting into submission, as he begins to match my movements. We rut into each other like dogs in heat.

One of his hands claws into my forearm just barely holding the knife at bay, and the other clutches the forest floor tight as we frot. Our cum soaks the earth beneath us. He desperately grinds his hips into mine, he can’t bite back his moans anymore.

“Please,” he whimpers like a dog, “Please, use your mouth, I need your tongue,” begging through gasps. He’s mine. He knows he’s mine. I dig my nails into the soft, hairy skin of his thighs, and he winces.

“How badly do you want me?” I challenge, my voice deep and rasped with breathlessness, “Show me,” I command.

Slowly his hand releases my forearm, leaving behind bloodied crescent moons and the beginnings of bruises where his nails were once buried. My nails embedded in his thigh follow suit, and I toss away my knife.

“Please,” he whispers, beginning to prop himself up. I nod and allow him to sit up, he brings his face close to mine and kisses me gently, then pulls away. “I want you so badly” he whines.

I feel the heat of his hand radiate down my big hairy stomach as he makes his way towards my swollen heat. He lays his head on my shoulder and I clutch his shaggy brown curls forcefully. A moan escapes his lips. His fingers begin to stroke my throbbing aching cock, and I can feel the cum dripping from my boycunt. I let a moan slip out, and he hesitates.

“Don’t stop, show me how badly you want me, how badly you want me to suck you off,” I say, my breath becoming uneven, “Show me you’re my pet now.”

He glides a finger against my messy hole, tracing back up to my cock rubbing against my throbbing heat in tight circles, pulling back and forth on my foreskin with each stroke. I buck against his fingers, and start to claw deeply into his back. His hand feels so good, I asked for this but I want to draw his blood for reminding me his touch can weaken me. He slides a finger down towards my cunt.

“Enough,” I release him, and pull his hand away from my crotch before he can enter me.

I push him to the forest floor and pry apart his legs, revealing his soaked pulsing tcock and cunt. I can’t hold back anymore. I’m starving for him. I look him in his eyes, and place my hand against his cheek streaked with dirt, blood, sweat, and spit. With lips barely parted, I kiss him, I drink deep the taste of his lips, his spit, his blood. I bite his lip before I move to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, biting, kissing, licking, I take in the soft sweet skin of his neck. I savor its flavor and scent as I leave behind a mark to tell him he’s mine, to tell the world he’s mine. I rip apart his undershirt so I can devour him in his entirety, as I make my way down towards his warm, throbbing boycunt. I want to consume him whole, and stain him with my hunger. My pet yelps and whines with each marking and cries out from each ravenous bite I inflict.

I pin down his thighs as I hover over his tcock. I can feel his heat on my face. I embed my nails into the tender skin of his thighs. My hot breath lands in his dark curly pubic hair. I press my lips against his inner thigh, nipping him lightly, a few warning shots, before biting down hard. He cries out to the treetops as he squirms underneath me, but I hold him down steady. I lick the bite mark and blow cool air over the tender spot, making him shiver. A hot insatiable feeling wells up from deep within my stomach and my cock aches and throbs. Finally, I envelop his cock in my mouth, sucking and stroking his pulsating bundle of nerves with my lips and tongue, drowning in the taste of him as he ruts into my face and clutches fistfuls of my long dark curls.

I release him from my mouth before sucking and teasing the swollen lips of his cunt. I want to taste all of him. My good boy grinds into me, begging for more with his puppy whimpers. I lap up his tcock with long broad strokes before quickening my pace, swirling my tongue around his raging growth. I dip my tongue down plunging into his cunt as he slams down his hips, fucking himself on my tongue. I switch between his cock and cunt, savoring both the taste of him, and the sound of his cries echoing through the forest.

I pull myself up to meet his face, and kiss him. I want him to taste himself on my lips. He looks up at me with his brown puppy eyes, and opens his mouth for me, tongue out, panting like a dog. I spit in his mouth and he takes it, swallowing and sticking his tongue out once more. I cup his face, letting him suck my thumb. I pull out and raise my hand to strike him, he flinches and I laugh. He wears such a sweet humiliated expression.

“How pitiful, be a good boy and wait here for me,” I say, petting his cheek before getting up, “and touch yourself while I’m gone mutt.”

I retrieve and don my prosthetic from my pack, as well as another piece of my leather work, a leather collar and lead. Making my way back to my pet, I take in the sight of him panting and arching his back as he strokes himself, and heat rushes through me. Filtered sunlight speckles his body. ‘My dog has spots,’ I think to myself, chuckling. His legs are open and ready for me. ‘What a pathetic mutt.’

I kneel between his legs, moving away his ‘paw’ and grind my prosthetic on his cock.

“Lift your head and stick out your tongue,” I order, buckling on his collar and lead. “You’re my dog now, my pet, my plaything. Never once were you anything but this.”

I place a finger on his tongue and pull his lead. He needn’t be told, he takes in my finger sucking and moaning, rutting himself on my prosthetic, and coating my finger with spit.

“Stroke yourself.”

I press my finger against the slick entrance of his cunt. I don’t even press in before he’s bucking his hips, fucking himself on my finger and panting. I curl my finger upwards and slowly fuck his hole, still pulling his lead. His hips are rustling the leaves beneath us, moving against my rhythm, trying to get more from me as he strokes himself faster.

“P-pl-please,” he stutters out, “another.” I cover his mouth with my hand, the lead worn around my wrist.

‘Dogs can’t speak.’

I thrust another finger in him, massaging the tender rippled flesh inside, rough and hard. I can feel his muffled moans vibrating under my rough palm. I want to hear him. I remove my hand and glide down his body until I grasp his hip. His cunt tightens on me, pulsating, milking my fingers for all the pleasure his greedy hole can get. He cries out, and I feel his warmth spray out from him onto my stomach and thighs.

“Don’t stop!” he begs, and I tug his lead sharply. He does not command me.

I pull out, spit into my hand, and coat my prosthetic with his cum and my spit. I plunge deep into him and he screams from the stretch. I slam into his cunt thrusting slow and hard, with no rest or reprieve for him to adjust to the size. His eyes roll back into his skull. He’s losing focus. ‘What a stupid dog,’ I think as I strike him with the back of my hand.

“Don’t stop touching yourself,” I growl. His hand speeds up again.

As I tug on his lead with every thrust, breathy moans escape him. I have him hold up one of his legs for me with his free hand, and the wetness spraying from his cunt soaks the harness of my prosthetic, and my stomach. I wipe it from my belly and slap him with it to punish my pet for the mess he’s made. He’s too fucked out to even wince. He moans for me at the impact. I’ve broken in my pet nicely.

The expression on his face, the sound of his cries, the sight of his throbbing swollen cock, the smell and taste of our blood staining my senses, and the base of the prosthetic grinding on my cock with each thrust lights a fire in me. I crash down on him, wrapping my arms under his shoulders and digging my nails into him. The weight of my body is pressed into his as I mercilessly fuck into him. He claws into my back and wraps his legs around my waist driving his hips into me as we howl like wild dogs.

I kiss and bite his neck as he gasps and pants in my ear. His nails in my back sting fiercely. He’s undoubtedly drawn blood. I cry out, but my pace is unwavering. My cock throbs and aches for release with every thrust. I can’t tell if the cum running down my thighs is his or mine. I use all the strength left in my body to lift him up off the forest floor. His legs still wrap around my waist and he clutches my shoulders. My ragged breaths and grunts pour from my mouth for the whole forest to hear. Hands gripping his ass, slamming him down on my prosthetic, I’m plowing up into him as he cries out. I feel his body tense and shake, his cries getting louder and louder, until he collapses onto me. I know he’s finished but I do not stop. My body aches, but I can’t stop. Pleading and sore he grasps me tightly once more.

“Please! Stop! I came! Please!” he begs, but dogs can’t speak.

I keep slamming my prosthetic into his cunt, grinding my cock against the prosthetic desperate to finish. My core tightens as I thrust into him faster, using his cunt as I please. My blood rushes to my head and cock, my heart pounds in my ears, my vision darkens, my body shakes, until suddenly, finally, I cum.

My legs buckle but I steady myself, laying my partner gently to the ground, and kissing his forehead before collapsing to the ground beside him. We’re breathless, sweat and cum soaked, and soiled with dirt and blood, but the breeze blowing through the trees cools us. I wince, noticing the sweat rolling down my face and soaking my back stinging all of my cuts and bruises. I turn to face my lover, and pull him to me. I cup his bruised face and wipe a tear stain with my thumb.

“Are you alright? Was it too much? How bad does it hurt?” The questions spill from me too quickly. How could I do all those awful things? How could I like all those awful things? He places a finger gently up to my lips silencing me.

“Yes. No. Could be worse.” He laughs, smiling at me, “It was good. You’re good.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask. My disregard for him from before is melting away into concern and shame.

“Just lay here a spell with me, then maybe you can roll me a smoke after we fix each other up.” He reassures me. He’s taken my shame and casted it away. I press him tighter to me.

“As you wish, you did so good for me. Thank you. Thank you.” I whisper to my lover. A tear stings my busted cheek.

I press my lips to his gently. We’re both bruised and aching with lips busted, but this gentleness and tenderness for each other overwhelms all else.

I hold him to my chest, petting and kissing his head, while he strokes my chest. We listen to the trees rustling, and a faint babbling whispering from the creek, and the steadily slowing beating in our chests. I don’t think of how long it will be before I can see him in this light, and in this clearing, or how long it will be before, in these secluded moments, I can scream to heaven he’s mine, the way I wish I could scream it to the world. In this moment time stands still, and we can stay here forever.

#mx meatmunchr #ftm cowboy #ftm pet #trans puppy #trans nsft #ftm t4t #ftm mlm #gay cowboy #struggle #ftm dom #ftm smut #t4t nsft #ftm puppy #nsft puppy #if i dont get to do this someday im gonna scream

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metalomagnetic · 16 days

Note

I asked a question about your house elf lore a while back, are you still sitting on that one or did it not get to you? or maybe you don't want to answer it? sorry to bother you I just wanted to see if I should resend it or not

I'm sorry! I looked back through my inbox until I found your question.

Sometimes asks pile up and I lose track of them! I hope no one thinks I am ignoring them on purpose.

Now, with that out of the way, here is your initial question (I hope this is yours, at least):

I love the world building you did around house elves/goblins/the fey in "it runs" all the little tidbits that get dropped make me hungry for more. Can you possibly elucidate on the full story behind the fey vs wizard kind conflict? was the black family and astral magic actually instrumental in the war or is that just black propaganda? i'm not sure how reliable of a narrator a black family elf should be considered.

So, I picture the High Elves more like the elves from Lord of the Rings. As human societies started developing and advancing, the high elves diminished in numbers, losing forests and also they were very sensitive to materials humans started using, like iron and copper and such, that was slowly poisoning them.

I like to imagine they started fucking around with humans sometimes in ancient times. Muggles weren't too perceptive to what was going on, since the elves used magical trickery, but wizards took notice. At the time, wizards coexisted together with muggles in the Harry Potter universe.

There were attempts made to accommodate both species, treaties brokered and then broken, on both sides, until the first war started.

It ended with high casualties on all sides, and with no clear victor. New 'borders' were agreed upon, places for the elves to dwell into, where humans weren't allowed, and vice versa.

Of course, as centuries passed, and muggles especially developed more and more, their villages spreading into larger areas, their needs greater, cities being raised all around, things escalated again. It didn't help that most muggles either didn't believe in the existence of elves, either considered them plights/enemies sent by their gods. Muggles have shorter life spams, and shorter memory. Besides, education and written history wasn't easily available to muggles at large. Elves, on the other hand, have incredible life spans, and while wizards don't come close, they, too, live longer than muggles and they do 'see' magic, so wizards were always more aware of such things, as they are aware of werewolves and vampires etc.

In the second war, the Black family and other great wizarding families were already established powers around Europe, far more organised than their ancestors; by now wands were much more in use, which was a vast improvement from the past, allowing all magical people easier access to magic.

Because they had means of quick communication, unlike muggles, and because the elves were far lesser in numbers than they've been previously, the second Elvish war was mostly between wizards and elves, with very little muggle involvement.

The elves didn't think they could survive as a species in this new, polluted world, so this time there will be no end to the war.

They fought to extinction levels.

The Blacks and their use of astral magic were, indeed, a big part of the war ( in my backstory for this, it was a man named Helix Black the First that was in charge of the family back then). But other families were as instrumental as them. Many great houses perished in the war, and even the Blacks were decimated in numbers, losing nine direct family members, and many other distant relatives or in-laws.

As the war was drawing to a close, and wizards were emerging on the winning side, they started hunting down what remained of small clusters of elves still surviving in deep forests .

They found the elvish children, having been kept hidden during the war (elvish children age far slower than human ones).

Some wizards wanted them killed, to end this once and for all. Others weren't so keen on this plan. A great council was made to decide on their fates.

The side against the slaughter won, but everyone agreed it wasn't a good idea to just leave them be, risking another uprising in the future.

A witch of great power came up with the idea of cursing the elvish younglings, and forcing them into complete obedience. The curse affected the development of the elves, leaving them stunted, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

A Sacred Circle was made out of witches and wizards that gave their lives to power the curse. From England, twenty eight wizards and witches participated in the Circle, including a Black (And because of this, all the families that lost members to this curse, are now know as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I know that's not what they are in canon, and it was simply a list made by one Mr. Nott, but this is just my head canon to give more depth and history to the wizarding world).

As the curse was cast (I like to imagine it took like two days of casting to manage such a feat of magic) some of the older elvish children managed to escape their makeshift prisons. They sought refuge underground. The curse still reached them, but because of their age (say around 30 years olds, which was still child by elven metrics) they managed to resist at least the compulsions and they remain hidden underground. Their bodies naturally adapted to the environment. They eventually became goblins.

The younger children that didn't escape, including a twelve year old Tessuth, were fully affected by the curse. They never grew properly, their bodies shifted, too, the dark magic wrecking havoc on them. They were then enslaved to wizards. There weren't that many children, but the Sacred Families that fought hardest in the war, and that sacrificed their own to cast the curse, had priority in picking. Helix Black demanded two elves. Tessuth, and her even younger sister (who will eventually become Kreacher's grandmother). People just thought he's a greedy dick for wanting two.

In reality, Helix had deep trauma from the war, had developed a begrudging respect for the elves in the years spent fighting them, but he had also lost his twin children in one battle. When he went to take one elf, he found Tessuth cradling her younger sister, and on an impulse, with his twins in mind, he didn't want to separate them, so he took them both.

Unlike many other houses that took their anger for the losses they suffered on the now newly made house elves, Helix never could put aside the tragedy of it all. He saw the extinction of elves as necessary, he never regretted it, it was wizards (in fact, all humans, not just wizards) or elves, and he served proudly in the war, but the horror of it all stayed with him, and he treated Tessuth and her sister more as prisoners of war than slaves.

He killed himself when his only surviving grandson, who was Tessuth's age, reached adulthood, leaving him in charge of the family.

Eventually, a century or two later, when goblins resurfaced, no one wanted another war. Concessions were made, goblins were allowed to live in the wizarding world, but it was never an easy peace, and that, too, led to many goblin rebellions.

In one of life's ironies, in the last goblin rebellion, the Head of House Black was another Helix.

By that time, however, house-elves had been completely brainwashed into hating goblins. The very old house elves like Tessuth and Kreacher's grandmother, were not only brainwashed, but held resentment for being abandoned by their fellow elven siblings, during the first war, that they escaped without them. The newer generations of elves, completely unaware of this history, simply hated goblins because their masters told them so. House elf magic was used heavily in goblin rebellions, to guard wizarding homes, because goblins and house-elves obviously share the same type of magic.

A true tragedy, and the story of the High Elves, regal, powerful, arrogant, that died off to make way for humans.

Some of the magic in the world died with them, which also affected wizards, turning them weaker. Wizards of today will never be as powerful as the wizards that lived in the time of the High Elves.

There will be short mentions about this in the fic, just a sentence or two, as we already had, but not very much. It is of no importance to Sirius and his journey, and we already know he doesn't care much about house- elves, even if he is fully aware of their history. He doesn't spend time thinking of this, he just barely learned to get along with Kreacher and he's a little scared of Tessuth, so there is no reason to have much of this mentioned.

#my writing #it runs in the blood

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tree-obsession · 3 months

Text

Aventurine, the Waste Land, the black hole, and luck- analysis on aventurine's possible fate

possible spoilers for 2.1 trailblaze mission

possible tws for suicide/suicidal idealization, mentions of slavery, and a massacre

ok there is. a lot to unpack for this mission but I would like to focus on the references to The Waste Land (by T.S. Elliot, fucking amazing poem btw) that were in Aventurine's parts?

First of all the achievements- the "Sibyl, what do you wish for?" and "She answers, I wish to die" or something like that. That is the very first thing in the poem we see- to put a long story short, it's a reference to how there was this oracle named Sibyl in Greek Mythology, blessed to live forever by Apollo. Apollo got angry after she refused to have sex with him and cursed her so that while she would live forever, her body would slowly waste away, eventually becoming dust kept in a jar. A couple of boys one day come up to this prison jar and ask her "Sibyl, what do you wish for?" and then she answers that she wants to die. This could be a reference to Aventurine, who is always so lucky but at that moment truly didn't wish to be lucky, and really did want to die. Yet he was stuck, unable to live- considering he is something of a "chosen" of Gaiathra Triclops, she could be the one who cursed him, in disguise of a "blessing" of good luck.

second, the maze scene. there were two references here, both from the fifth(fourth? it's been a hot minute since I read this poem, the details aren't all clear) part of the poem. it talks about a deserted waste land, where rain never falls, there is only lightning and rocks/sand. this matches up with descriptions of sigonia, as a desert planet that's referred to as "the unclaimed desolation", and also some of those lines are directly said in the white text that floated around the maze(which i'll be referring to as floating text from now on). the second reference was also in the floating text, which talks about how "there is another presence/person beside us", or something very similar. I don't have the direct quotation, but this is also a direct reference- within the poem, there are two travelers in this "waste land", and the narrator mentions feeling a presence that wasn't truly there. According to Elliot himself, his inspiration for this part of the poem was from an account of an Antarctic journey, where the person who wrote the account said he and his men were so out of it due to exhaustion they had begun to hallucinate another presence who wasn't actually there. this is probably referencing how mini-aventurine and present-aventurine both exist, and have existed, but the future-aventurine technically does not exist yet and literally is just popping up, clearly not "real" in the physical sense but definitely there. within the poem, there are a lot of speculations between scholars about why Eliiot decided to add this hallucinated dude in but one popular theory is that it's Christ, in disguise, which is really interesting considering The Family's Christian imagery. something to watch out for when Aventurine returns to the story (he def isn't dead, but as to when he's returning... :( i can't get my hopes up) or if anyone else analyzes this more deeply.

now, why the waste land? it's universally considered a pretty depressing poem, about how the world after World War I was torn apart and collapsing in on itself, and portrays a lot of characters who aren't living life to their fullest at all. it references many famous texts and literary works, pointing at literature as an amalgamation of all other literature and also acting as a metaphor for how everything builds off each other, so one thing collapsing could result in everything collapsing. there are a lot of references to different religions as well. perhaps the best way to put it is that Elliot was portraying a world under threat of total collapse, and asks the reader if there is anything humanity can do to save it, or if we must simply salvage what we can. the ending also implies peace is a far-off, perhaps unreachable thing since everything is so discordant. but you get the idea at this point- the poem is about decay and rotting over time. I don't have the greatest grasp on either this poem or aventurine's psyche, but the 2.1 quest revealed a lot- he is an incredibly lucky person who is in a lot of bad situations but gets out every time, and has never lost a bet (despite his life otherwise being absolutely terrible). the waste land itself could simply be sigonia, and then perhaps aventurine himself is a representation of the characters within the poem. practically all scholars agree that in this poem, all the female characters coalesce into one character, and the male characters do so too, and then there is one uniting character between the "male" and "female"- tiresias, who according to Elliot has "foreseen and foresuffered all". he is described as the most important figure in the poem by Elliot himself. Tiresias is an androgynous figure, but is referred to with he/his. he also is the only one to say "I" in the poem, and despite the fact he is blind he can see all, even the future- in mythology, he was a prophet like the Sibyl. "what Tiresias sees is, in fact, the substance of the poem", as Elliot says- in other words, what he sees seems to be the closest thing to the truth you will get.

now obviously that's pretty valuable, considering literally everyone is lying in penacony (in the livestream they said the entire guest list is filled with question marks in place of names, implying everyone's identities there were fake- other than Sparkle's, but she's a Masked Fool and will trick people just for the hell of it, so not exactly the best ally). however (this is where speculation starts) I think this could be possibly very subtle foreshadowing for Aven's return! and I know this may sound delusional but. it's established he's not dead. his stone is out, but that's quite possibly because he's next to a fricking black hole and also Acheron possibly had "freed" him, in some sense? that conversation he had with her obviously changed a lot of things for him as a character, and she said she could break the harmony's bonds on him... also, clearly if he wasn't dead while waking up next to a black hole, that's certainly a surefire way to tell his luck hasn't run out yet. the entire mission was spent establishing his luck is perfect, given by the goddess of his planet, and will never fail him. this is like near emanator-level shit- obviously not quite in terms of any special power, but he was specifically chosen by this goddess, was born on a special day, and due to sheer luck is the last one standing of his clan (apparently). literally everything was set up against him and he's only still alive due to a literal goddess-given power, which is absolutely nuts and almost overpowered if it weren't for the fact that he also seems to be in many scenarios where luck and gambling is the only way to get out at all. the massacre, the enslavement, killing his old master, the weird warlord thing that got brought up, penacony... his luck is purely for getting out of bad situations, it seems.

that was kind of a tangent. anyway! the whole mission was establishing how good his luck was. he got into this situation where the only solution is to walk into a black hole and see the other side of penacony- that is a classic example of "there is an extremely, extremely narrow chance of getting out alive". acheron did it, or something similar, so clearly it's possible- but luck and chance would be the only way. this is the cycle of his life- he's in an absolutely shitty situation, but he will get out due to luck. imo it's a terrible idea writing-wise to keep him explicitly alive up to the very end and going into a situation- alive- which he can survive in due to his luck, right after giving him fulfilling conversation with both acheron and his past self and seeing the uplifting note from Ratio... just to offscreen him, or kill him for some reason related to this "other side of penacony". it wouldn't line up with all that we know about him now. granted, I can't imagine it'll be pleasant and his mental state will be even worse at the end of it... but he'll be alive, and he's made it through a lot of hellish situations. he might not like his luck all the time, and it can be either a blessing or a curse given the scenario, but he's kind of stuck with it- until he withers away, just like Sibyl. Death does seem to be inevitable, but as of right now it's not knocking on his door.

tldr: for now, our boy isn't dead and his luck might be a curse to him but it's clearly going to keep him alive for quite a bit longer :)

tysm for reading and have a nice day!

#honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine #hsr spoilers #my fav poem and my fav character #whoo!!!#acheron #(mentioned)#hsr theory #honkai star rail theory #kakavasha #my beloved <<<333 #i wanted to squish mini-aventurine's cheeks SO BADLY whenever he came onscreen

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classpectpokerap · 1 year

Text

testing the AUTOMATIC PESTERLOG FORMATTER FOR TUMBLR

Welcome to Homestuck 5+! Use the Help! button to learn more about this syntax.

TT: That help button would teach you more than you'd learn from just reading this example?

Uh oh. Hello, Rose.

TT: Hello, omniscient narrator. TT: Ahem. Allow me to demonstrate. JASPROSESPRITE^2: What are we demewnstrating? TT: The way this formatter works. JASPROSESPRITE^2: Phooey! This furmatter doesn't even have my cool new chumhandle, fluorescentFeline. JASPROSESPRITE^2: Look, if I try and type something with it: FF: Nothing! All black. TT: You have to add it to the formats, Jazz. Click "Edit Formats." JAZZ: Mrr... too lazy! At least they've got this name built-in. -- turntechGodhead [TG] joined tentacleTherapist [TT]'s awful tutorial -- TG: hey whats going on TT: Ugh.

Are you guys okay?

TT: Dandy. Here, let's start over.

tentacleTherapist [TT] invited turntechGodhead [TG] to a less awful tutorial. TG: wait why dave and not me TT: Oh my gods. TT: Why Roxy, and not me? UU: and why am i the defaUlt? UU: AND WHY DON'T I HAVE MY COOL GREEN COLOR THAT DOESN'T SuCK. CALIBORN: SERIOUSLY. WHERE IS IT.

Uh.

CALIBORN: GET IN HERE AND EXPLAIN YOuRSELF.

What? You can't do th--

--at! Oh, god. TT: "I'm not trapped in here with you! You're trapped in here with me!" Sounds familiar. Oh god, oh, god. What appears to be the problem? I'm trapped in a textbox with a bunch of bozos, that's what! CALIBORN: I FOUND MY GREEN. Well, I'm glad someone's having a good time!

YES. HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? ROLES. REVERSED!!

You can't do this to me! I was about to remind everyone how to write in color outside of logs!

WHAT. LIKE THIS? I HAVE CAPTURED YOUR PUNY FONT! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Actually, you pretty much covered it! FF: I got my chumhandle working! TT: Well, I'm glad someone's having a good time. That's what I'VE been saying!!!

go visit @flaringk's NEW WEBSITE for nearly-fully-automated TUMBLR COMPATIBLE PESTERLOGGING!

#homestuck #homestuck fanfic #strilondes #caliborn #rose lalonde #doc scratch #tumblr formatting

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pearwaldorf · 7 months

Text

This is an introduction to Hozier playlist for my friend @junemermaid. The categories are a little idiosyncratic, but I think they make sense. I don't know what music services you have access to, so there are no links. I trust you can figure out how to get access to the songs.

Things I didn't know I needed words for until I heard these songs

Foreigner's God

Butchered Tongue (an introduction to the song from the Choctaw Theater in Oklahoma)

(additional reading: “A’ghailleann”: On Language-Learning and the Decolonisation of the Mind, by my friend Iona. It is about Gaelic and not having access to the first language you spoke, and how we deal with those sorts of things.)

Wry narration from self-aware narrators

Jackie and Wilson

Almost (Sweet Music)

Nobody

(What I mean is in contrast to something like this from Lord Huron. The narrator's a fucking idiot but I'm not sure he's aware of that.)

Horny but not really about sex (but not not either)

De Selby Part 2 (the video, starring fellow Irishman Domhnall Gleeson, is so pretentious, I love it to bits)

Talk (the song I'm totally going to make a Hannigram vid to, one of these days I swear)

NFWMB

Yes he really is Like That, Tumblr was not exaggerating

In a Week

Like Real People Do

In the Woods Somewhere

To be fair, I think he's gotten away from this a lot more since the debut album. People mean the bog prince nonsense affectionately, but I think they also use it as an excuse to ignore his more political songs. (On the other hand, the oatmeal.)

The way white people should cover songs by Black artists

Say My Name (more info on why he decided to cover it)

Problem > Regulate (As a child of the 90s I respect this so much)

The ones I'm really fucking angry about because they're gorgeous and beautiful and poetic

Work Song (the second song I would put on any Shepard/Garrus playlist)

Shrike

Unknown / Nth (this is an Aziraphale/Crowley song to me; the bridge fucking took me out at the knees the first time I heard it)

Abstract (Psychopomp) (This song is deeply weird in the best way. It is the perfect early oughts pop song I always wanted from Coldplay but it's about a formative and somewhat disturbing event in the narrator's childhood. But also about romantic love somehow?)

Unreal Unearth is, I think, a level up in terms of poetic lyricism.

The prettiest song you will ever hear about domestic violence and is really weird to sing along to live because of that

Cherry Wine

A disturbingly well-adjusted breakup song

All Things End

That random EDM song he did a couple years ago that's actually really good??

Tell It To My Heart

#hozier

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melloween-candie · 9 months

Text

Trouble- Chap. 1//First day

A Judd Birch Story!

Summary

You were the new kid in school, meaning you were fresh meat. You didn't know much about the school or the area you lived in. You were completely oblivious and naive, so much so you didn't even realized you had a growing number of perverts following you around. However, you weren't completely hopeless. You managed to make a few good friends who warned you about a lot of things- including Judd Birch. He wasn't known for his friendly attitude; in fact, he caused chaos wherever he went. You tried your hardest to avoid trouble, but it came to you anyway- in the form of Judd Birch.

Warning! HUMAN RECOURSE AND BIG MOUTH SPOILERS! Cussing, Name-calling, Gossip

Word Count: 3,983

Prologue, Chap. 1 ... [ON HOLD]

Big Mouth Fandom

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

***Y/n's Pov***

Dear Diary,

It is currently 6:31 a.m. Right now, I'm getting ready for my first day of school here at Bridgeton High. I haven't had the chance to see the school yet, but my mom said it was bigger than my old school. It kind of sucks having to move to a new school after only having this year left..., but my mom said it had to be done.

We had to move due to issues with her old job. It took her a hot minute to find another decent job, but she managed. It's sad, really- she made a lot of money in her old job, but she said she'll make twice the amount here, so I guess that's good.

"Y/n! Are you almost done getting ready? Your school starts at 7:30; I want to be able to drop you off early so you can get a head start, and so we can avoid traffic as MUCH as possible!" Your mom yelled from downstairs.

Quickly you dropped your pencil and closed your diary, finishing the page off with your signature and date.

"Coming!" You yelled, trying to hassle. You rushed towards your bathroom, closing the door behind you. You grabbed the clothes you prepped the other night beforehand and started changing.

***Narrator's Pov*** ~Time skip!~

You had a white tank top underneath your crop hoodie. The hoodie was black with a pale pastel pink bat on the top right, just above your right breast. It was a small design, and the strings were long and blood-red. Meanwhile, the back had wings of bones with red bloodshot flowers growing through the bones as an interkit and in-depth design.

As for pants, you wore a pitched black skirt. It was short and somewhat puffy, with the inside part being white. The skirt was designed to have shorts underneath. That way, no pervert can try and sneak a peek. You wore a red belt around it and had some silver chains attached to it for extra flair~.

Then you put on some simple, long, thin-laced socks. The socks reached just above your ankles, perfectly covering your calves. Meanwhile, for your shoes. They were ankle top heal boots. All black but with a hint of red inside it. (Something like this-)

And lastly, your hair and makeup. Your makeup was simple and cute. You chose to use neutral coloring with just a light pink blush. You also filled in your eyebrows and added some lipgloss. Your hair wasn't really flashy since your mom refuses to let you dye your hair any color other than natural colors. So you choose to dye it all black. Your hair was relatively short, too, so you couldn't really style it. You ended up putting it in two low twin pigtails.

Finally, after finishing up, you brushed your teeth and hair, rushed out of your bathroom, and grabbed your bookbag, stuffed it up with notebooks and pencils, then ran downstairs to find your mom standing next to the front door tapping her foot. Her arms were crossed- clearly, she was irritated.

To be fair, it was also her first day at her new job, and she couldn't afford to lose it. So the more time you got ready, the more time she was losing. "I asked you to be done getting ready-" She looked at her watch. "30 minutes ago!"

You shrugged your shoulders- "Sorry."

Your mom sighed and grabbed your face causing your hoodie to fall. She pulled you close and kissed you on your forehead. Then she lifted your face to make you look at her.

"Well- at least you look more alive today." You smiled. "Thanks, mom."

Some would say otherwise for your mom- She had her hair tied tightly up into a bun, and her edges were done incredibly well. Your mom also went bold with her makeup. She had sharp wings and a deep gold-colored eyeshadow, complimenting her skin color. She also had deep red lipstick on. She clearly wasn't messing around.

The outfit she had on was a simple black women's suit. With a white buttoned-up shirt underneath her smoothed black jacket. Her entire outfit complimented her body figure. She was very curvy, leaning more towards the thicker side. She also wore dark skin tone legging trousers that were laced up in a pretty but subtle pattern, and to top it all off, she had black high heels on that made a clicking sound every time she stepped.

You both walked out the door and got inside the car. You shoved your bookbag down next to your feet as you clipped your seat belt on while your mom placed some documents into the glove box. After you all strapped up, your mom started driving towards your new school. The drive was fairly boring. She had the news playing in the background as she mumbled stuff. Meanwhile, you had your headphones in, listening to music, but once you guys were about to make a turn- a teal van with loads of stickers behind it rushed past, swerving around your car. Your mom started cussing the hell out of it as she finished her turn.

***Y/n's Pov*** ~Small time skip!~

Finally, she made it to the front of your school drop-off spot. She kisses your forehead goodbye and wishes you a good day at school as she droves off. You watched how her car sped by, and slowly, you took in a breath.

"Okay, Y/n... You got this." You muttered, turning around slowly. You stared at the school and were amazed to see how big it was... "Maybe mom was right... I really should have tried to get here early..." You sulked as you started walking with the rest of the herd. As you passed the student cars, you found one that looked surprisingly familiar...

Speedy?

It was the same teal car that swerved passed your mom...

Great... I guess Mom's gonna have to deal with him every time she drops me off and possibly picks me up too...

~Small time skip!~ - In the school lobby -

"Thanks again!" You said to the office lady as you left. You now had your schedule in hand. You stood right beside the office door, looking at your schedule as a herd of students walked by.

It read- Y/n L/n Locker Number: A-1 303 Locker Code: 33'54'20

1st period-Homeroom // Mr. Michel // English 4 // Room # 222 2nd period// Mrs. Daisy // Advanced Art // Room # 113 3rd period // Mrs. Jackson // Crime and Literature // Room # 234 4th Period // Mr. Riley // P.E // Room # 202 5th Period // Lunch // Cafeteria 6th Period // Mrs. Dollings // Algibra 2 // Room # 143 7th Period // Mr. Myers // World History AP // Room # 104 8th Period // Mr. Brock // Chemistry // Room # Labritory 3

Then suddenly, someone bumps into you, causing you to drop your paper. It scattered into the herd of loud, chatty high school students.

"Ohh, NO!" Tito appeared. "Just GREAT! You dropped the only thing that gave you guidance around this HELL WHOLE!" You freaked out, getting on your knees, trying to grab the paper that landed in between two random students. Luckily they didn't notice you.

You grabbed it, quickly standing up, pretending like nothing happened. Then you turned around to see who caused this.

"Tch."

You stood there facing a guy's chest. Slowly you looked up to his face... You blushed-

His face seemed like it was stuck in a permanent scowl. His hair was styled as a curtain undercut with longish blue-tipped bangs. Meanwhile, his sides and underback were shaved. He was by far at least half a head taller than you... You just stood there, not realizing you were staring.

"Hey, dunce face. Am I gonna have to move you myself?" He said in a deep, husky voice. It brought chills to your spin as you were pulled back into reality.

"Ooooh~ Okay, big daddy~," Connie says out of nowhere, causing you to blush even more as you stumbled out of his way. You tried apologizing, but all you could muster was a few stutters before he was entirely out of your sight.

Idiot!

You covered your face out of embarrassment.

"Yeah, you're right-" Tito said. "He probably thinks you're a useless loser!"

Connie swung her arm around your shoulder- "Hey, come on now. He may be attractive..., but you're hot too! You two would make cute babies~"

"Yeah, right!" Says Tito. "All the cuteness would be from his genes- AND even so, he would never go for an ugly, struggling teenage girl like Y/n. It's hopeless!"

Connie scuffs, "Well, hey now-!"

You just grabbed ahold of your bookbag straps and started walking towards where you believed your locker was located.

~ Small time skip!~

It took you a hot minute, but you managed. Your locker stood between two people. A girl to your left, who had her hair up in a messy ponytail. Her hair had clips and beads on it. She had pitch-black hair and black eyeliner. She had her right nostril pierced. She wore a gray long-sleeved shirt with a black vest over it- the vest had bold yellow text on it saying the word- RUBBISH in an edgy font.

Meanwhile, there was a guy on your right. He was just about the same height as the lockers themselves. He was also leaning towards the heavier side. He had a pink dress shirt on and tons of bracelets. He closed his locker, causing you to quickly look away.

"Okay, girly." The girl next to you said out of nowhere. She had her arm stretched out. Her palm against her locker, she was leaning on it.

"Huh?" You were slightly nervous. Unsure if she was talking to you or not.

"It's time to address the elephant in the room-" The girl gets closer to you, closing her locker shut. "Your new here? Right- I mean, it's just I've never seen you before, and I know everyone here."

"Umm... Yeah? I am-"

The bell then rings, indicating that breakfast time is over and that you should be heading to your classes now.

"Thought so." She looked at the guy behind you, then back towards you. Quickly she closed your locker and shoved your right shoulder as the other guy did the same on your left, causing you to spin around. Then she grabbed your forearm as the guy did the same to the other. Forcing you to walk with them.

"Listen, kid, what's your name?" Said the girl as she yanked your schedule out of your hands, and before you could even answer- she answered for you.

"So your name is Y/n L/n. Aye?" She said, chewing gum as she spoke.

The guy then leaned in closer- "By any chance, do you know Stacey L/n?" He had a surprisingly pitchy voice. You couldn't tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

"Um, no. I just moved here." You replied as they continued to drag you down the hall.

"Interesting..." The girl then gave you back your schedule. "You're gonna have to be very careful in Mr. Michel's class."

"Yeah, I heard he's a pervert..." Said the guy.

"And he plays favorites!" Added the girl as she shoves you against the locker. She pats your arms down, shoving the dirt off you. Then she steps back and takes a look at you... Then proceed to pull your hoodie down... "Perfect. Just keep out of sight, don't raise your hand, and sit in the back- if possible. He shouldn't mess with you then. OH, and always turn in your assignments a day late- he gets lazy and ends up giving everyone an A after the first day of grading."

"Yeah, I once turned in an unfinished assignment in his class, and he still gave me an A..." Added the guy.

Then the girl grabbed your shoulders and gave you a deep glaring look. "Look- just be careful in there." She nods her head towards the door next to you guys. "If he does say or do anything to you during that class, just come to us immediately after, okay?"

"OH! And if he asks if you can stay after class- RE-FUSE-IT! Make up an excuse if you don't want to get- yeah, now... R.A.P.E.D," He spelled.

You gave him a frightening look- "H-how is this teacher not fired yet...?"

They both looked at each other and then back at you- "Ow, sweety, do you honestly think this high school gives a shit about their students?" The guy huffs.

"Yeah, in your dreams. It's survival of the fittest out here." Said the girl.

You just nodded slowly to everything they said, not wanting to believe in what you were hearing. Then the girl lets you go. "Look, you don't have to be scared. He's small and weak. If you really need it- you can always ask one of the guys in your class, your pretty enough to make any guy do dumb shit." She smiles, hitting you with her elbow teasingly.

"Oh, Just don't do anything with Judd." Said the guy.

"Umm... Who's Judd?" You asked, leaning towards the open door, trying to get a good view of the people in there.

The guy then gets behind you and points at a guy with blue-tipped hair. "That's Judd Birch. He's harmless as long as you don't mess with him- AND I MEAN DON'T. The guy doesn't fuck around- a few girls from my grade tried flirting with him before, and let's just say their reputations were completely destroyed."

"Yeah, the only girls who CAN screw with that guy are the girls HE PICKED."

"Wha- what do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it. Just don't flirt with him, don't touch him- just don't interact with him AT ALL. He's just BAD NEWS." The girl then shoves you towards the door. You looked back at them with a worried expression.

"Look, girly, you'll be fine. Um- here!" The girl then pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. "Does anyone have a pen?"

"Oh- here!" The guy then pulls out a pen from his dress shirt pocket.

"Really, Damian? In your pocket too?"

"What?! It's good to carry pens!"

She just rolled her eyes and started writing against the locker.

Then she hands you the piece of paper.

"Text us." Then they both walked away...

You looked at the paper...

It read-

Janis ball - 707 612-8891 Damian Duggless - 424 717-2929 [If you guys don't get the reference... 😭😭😭]

"Text us after class" (P.S We were once also new kids :))

You smiled.

"Heyy! It seems like you already made two new friends!" Emmi was now here, smiling.

"Yeah, I guess I did, ha- also, where were you?"

"Ahh- haha, let's not get into it now..." Emmi giggled nervously as she shoved you into your class.

Once the teacher saw you, he told you to stand there as the rest of the students came in and filled the seats.

~Small time skip!~

You stood in front of the class as you were told as the late bell finally rang. A few more students rushed into his classroom before he closed the door entirely.

Your teacher, Mr. Michels, then fixed up a few papers on his hands- straightening them before grabbing the class's attention.

"Alright! Listen up, Class! This may be the second week of school, but that doesn't mean you all should start acting like fools. This here is B/n L/n-"

"It's actually Y/n- Y/n L/n..." You corrected him. There was a silent pause... He already looks annoyed- shit. before he proceeded.

"Alright then, my apologies Y/n-" He licked his lips and then proceeded. "Tell us a bit about yourself, Y/n." He was clearly cocky...

"Umm... okay- Well. My name is Y/n, but some call me N/n.(If you don't have one- just ignore it.) I just moved here from (Home-place). And- umm... I don't really know what else to say." You stumbled.

"Well then," The teacher placed his hand on your shoulder, roughly catching you off guard. You didn't really know what to do, knowing what they said about him- you felt somewhat uncomfortable. "Does anyone have any questions for our new female?" His grip got tighter...

New female... Your eyebrows scrunched up; you weren't really comfortable with how he introduced you.

A guy in the back with a green hat that had a Marijuana logo on it raised his hand and then proceeded to yell- "DO YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?!" The class started laughing as the guy who sat next to him gave him a high five. The dude was wearing a red jacket...

You looked towards the teacher in shock... What was strange was that the teacher looked at you as if he expected you to answer... He was smiling too-

"Umm... C-can I take my seat now..?" You asked nervously, trying to scoot away from your teacher.

The teacher paused and blinked for a second...

"Sure- You can either sit next to Judd, who is by the window back there, or Kurt, who is that kid in the back corner there- or ya know, by me." He smirked at his last statement.

"I'm good..." You mumbled, then started walking away with your head slightly down.

Kurt raised his hand- You stopped and looked at him. "Over here, hot stuff!" He pointed at the empty desk next to him as he leaned back against his chair. His leg pushed on his desk, causing him to rock back and forth.

Your face scrunches slightly- I'd rather get murdered by this guy; You look towards Judd... then back to Kurt, then sit with you...

You then continued walking towards the empty seat next to the 'bad boy.'

"You know- I'm pretty sure your teacher was staring at your doo-dahs for a second..." Said Connie.

"What makes you so shore?" Asked Emmi.

"Trust me, Emmi- it's hormone monster logic 101!" She said as she followed the group.

Once the guy named Kurt realized you chose to sit next to Judd instead of him, he fell off his chair, causing a scene. Everyone started laughing... meanwhile, during it all, you placed your stuff down, getting comfy in your seat and ignoring the situation a few seats behind you completely.

(BTW, just to let y'all know- these are two-seater desks...)

Small time skip!~ ***Narrator's Pov***

Halfway into the lecture, and still nothing. Judd hasn't done anything to you at all. You were kind of disappointed at that fact. Personally, you found him to be really cute, and everything those two said about him earlier only made him more intriguing. So much so that you would give him a 'casual' side glance every chance you got. You thought you were being really sneaky about it, but to him, you were practically screaming at him.

"Do you need something?" He said with his husky voice-

***Y/n's Pov***

OH FUCK! You couldn't stop screaming in your own head.

"OH NOOOO!!! YOU FUCKED UP!" Tito was flying EVERYWHERE. "OH GOD THE ONE THING WE WERE WARNED ABOUT!!!" As Tito started swarming the entire room- Connie tried to swat her away meanwhile, Emmi tried to reassure you- "Hey, don't worry about this- um, just say 'nope' or 'what are you talking about?'" She was clearly just as nervous as you.

"It's just you keep side-eyeing me like a little creep." He chuckled. That made you flustered QUICK, and he clearly knew- You couldn't even face him... this whole situation made you so uncomfortable that your body naturally straightened its posture while your head faced down; you stared at your worksheet so hard that you thought your eyes were about to pop out.

Meanwhile, Judd was just spinning his pencil. Doing cool little tricks with it as he continued to look at you. "Not much of a talker aye?" He stopped spinning his pencil. He tilted his head, too, you noticed... this only made you want to cover your face even more. You tilted your head down, now fully facing your lap, your hair covering your sides nicely.

Your grip on your pencil tightened- Dear god, PLEASE MAKE ME INVISIBLE NOW!!!

A few minutes go by, and he didn't say anything else after. So, you just continued on with your work. Once you finished, you got up and handed the teacher your work. He grabbed it, then winked at you- Gross... Then he proceeded to type something on his computer as you walked back to your seat. You had a good ten minutes left in class, so you just decided to put your head down for a bit.

Sooner or later, you felt a small tap on your head... You raised your head up to look and saw a small piece of ripped-up line paper right next to you. You then completely sat up and looked at Judd as you grabbed the paper. He wasn't even paying attention. His face was the same, could-care-less-about-everything face, and he even had his phone out- I wonder who he's texting...

You were a little suspicious... due to your trust issues, you were a little cautious of whether you should open this note or not- after all, you weren't sure if it was actually for you. Maybe you just imagined the tap you felt on your head just a few minutes ago?

Nevertheless, your curiosity got the best of you, and you opened it. It said-

Your number ⬇️ (If y'all can't see the emoji- it's an arrow pointing down to the line.) ______________

The handwriting was a little sloppy. The pencil was clearly being pressed onto the paper- REALLY hard.

You looked a little confused by all this. You looked at him; he was still messing with his phone, then back towards the paper. Then you wrote, "No." You remembered how your new friends told you not to mess with him- He may be hot, but I really don't wanna get into any trouble right now. All I want is to survive this last year of high school- And I can't do that if my reputation gets fucked.

You slide the piece of paper towards his side. It took him a moment, having to finish his text, then he opened it... Your heart starts pounding, fearing what he might do. You tried to act cool as if you didn't know what was happening.

Then you noticed, from the corner of your eyes. He was glaring at you. You could feel the sweat dripping down your neck... After writing something new down on the piece of paper, he slides it back towards you. You were hesitating on opening it at first but quickly opened it when you found him, still glaring at you... more intensely this time- he was clearly annoyed by now...

The note now says-

Your number ⬇️ (Same arrow.) ____No_____ That wasn't a question, dumbass ___________

Then you wrote down-

Your number ⬇️ (Same arrow.) ____No_____ That wasn't a question, dumbass (XXX) XXX-XXXX (Your number- Your choice 🤭) "Can I at least know why?"

Then you slide the paper to him, and he snatches it out of your hand. You looked at him as he read it. The bell then rings. You grabbed your stuff as he finished reading- "Soon enough, you'll know." He said as he slung his bookbag over his shoulder, pocketing the piece of paper as he pushed past you along with everyone else in his way...

Well, this can't be good... You thought as you walked out of class. "Hey! Put it this way! He wanted your NUMBER! That has to amount to something, am I right!" Said Connie. She had her arm wrapped around your waist as you all walked out of class, minus Tito; of course, she flew...

A/n

The first chapter is finally done! I'm not going to lie, I like it way better than how I had it originally played out... Anyway, I hope this was an eye-catcher for you guys! Stay tuned for the next chapter! 😝

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