#He's had enough experience with dolls to know they're bad news | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mickandmusings · 2 months

Text

v. we were happy

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: Honey's life lately was much like walking on air-everything was light, breezy, full of happiness and excitement. She relishes in it, enjoying her time in Haven before graduation. But if there's one thing Honey knows, it's this: when good things happen to her, the bad things will come tenfold.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (just to be safe); smut highly implied, but no graphic descriptions besides heavy kissing (i'm not skilled enough for that); descriptions of a panic attack; angst; honey finally getting the important feminine friendships she deserves; notable military inaccuracies

"If you give me the slightest hint of withdrawal and abandonment, I would outdo you." -

"Jake is going to flip his lid when he sees you, Hon!"

Haley's voice rings in Honey's left ear, the girl delicately twisting Honey's hair into a simple up-do. Sarah Grace nods in agreement, giggling as she brushes a neutral eyeshadow across Honey's eyelids. Honey smiles and gives her own soft chuckle, feeling incredibly out of place-but simultaneously comfortable-with the new experience of getting all dolled up. Of course she'd gotten herself ready for dances with Jake before, but having girlfriends do your hair and makeup was entirely different, as Honey was learning. Haley and Sarah Grace had doted and debated about looks all morning, until they both agreed and settled on a unified look to match Honey's simple black dress.

"The dress alone is going to make him want to take you right there in his backseat," Sarah Grace commented, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the bathroom in the Seresin's spare house.

"Oh, gross, SG! Give Honey more credit than that, her boy has tact, which is apparently something Ethan lacks if he's taking you in his backseat." Haley shakes her head, the sequins of her hot pink dress rustling as she moves around Honey's stool to get the back of her head. Her own blonde locks are pulled into an intricate style atop her head, the shiny hairpins glimmering in the bathroom's ample lighting.

"I think you're both overconfident in your ability to take me from homely to supermodel."

Honey's voice is quiet, but the girls hear her clearly. They're both chatterboxes, but Honey had learned quickly that they were always listening, no matter how timidly she spoke. Both of the girls cut their eyes at her with appalled expressions.

"Homely? What makes you think you're ugly, Honey? You're easily one of the prettiest girls in our class. Guys are just shallow, well, except for your boy," Sarah Grace's face breaks into a smile. Honey blushes, not sure how to accept a compliment like that. She stays quiet as the girls finish their work, but her friends can only stand the silence for so long.

"So, Honey," Haley begins as she pins back a section of Honey's hair. "How excited are you for UT? I mean you only have a few weeks until graduation, and then summer, but then it's all over and you're packing your life away to Austin."

"I'm not packing my life away, Hals, I'm still coming back for the holidays and the long weekends. It's not like I'm never coming back to Haven. I mean-" She pauses and a blush spreads across her face. "I imagine Jake wants to settle down here, get married, maybe start a family. At least that's what he's always said."

"AW!" Haley's outburst makes Honey laugh too. "You two make me SICK! Jake Seresin and his perfect little family, all the other PTA moms are gonna give you hell, girl."

Honey rolls her eyes, pursing her lips as Sarah Grace moves to paint lipstick across them. Honey's heart feels full, and her skin is warm with adoration for the girls in front of her. For the first time in her entire life, everything felt right, perfect even. But if there was one thing Honey knew well, nothing good that happens to her lasts forever. She swallows the doubt rising in her chest and stands as the two girls finally finish. She looks at herself in the mirror-a satin black dress adorns her frame, accenting all of her best features. The pearl hairpins Haley had placed in her curly hair shined in the lights, and, while uncomfortable, the heels on her feet fit perfectly. Her eyes widened, for the first time maybe ever, she feels beautiful. Tears rise behind her eyes, and she blinks quickly in an effort not to ruin the makeup. The action isn't lost on Sarah Grace who gives her a sympathetic look, tears forming in her own eyes.

"It all feels so fast, doesn't it?" Sarah Grace's voice is softer than normal. "I mean, we only just became friends and after this summer, we'll all be in different corners of the country. You'll be in Austin, Haley will be in Tennessee, and I'll be Alabama. It doesn't seem fair, does it?"

She was right, in a matter of weeks, Honey would start at UT Austin, Haley at University of Tennessee, and Sarah Grace at Auburn.

Honey shakes her head as she lets a few tears slip through. Haley is a blubbering mess next to her, her arms gathering around both Honey and Sarah Grace's shoulders.

"I love you guys," Haley's voice wobbles as she squeezes them tightly. "But hey, it's a good thing we all look damn good in orange, right? Otherwise we'd be fucked. And! We can all visit each other for games, since we already have the right colors, right?"

Honey laughed into her friend's shoulder, that sinking feeling of dread coming up her throat like bile. As Haley pulls away, she wipes the tears that had fallen, a smile on her face that didn't feel forced at all.

The girl's emotional moment is interrupted by a sharp knock to the bathroom door, Willie's voice sounding.

"You ladies ready?"

Haley said something in reply, but it didn't quiet reach Honey's ears. She was reeling in emotion, and it felt as if her ears were filled with cotton. Her heart raced, and she couldn't stop her mouth from speaking.

"H-Haley? SG?"

The two girls turn to their friend, her eyes filling with another round of tears. They both shuffle to her side, their own eyes cloudy.

"I, um, I just wanted to say...thanks. For so long I truly thought I was invisible, and I just-," she pauses, flashes of the past eight months playing behind her eyes: sleepovers and movie dates, sitting together at football games, gossiping over lunch. "-thanks for seeing me, for being my friend. You'll never know how much that, uh," Honey's bottom lip quivers. She doesn't have to finish her statement, because they've already pulled her back into a massive group hug. They all three laugh as they part, and Haley grabs her hand as they shuffle out the door to the front yard.

Immediately, Honey feels Jake's gaze on her. She pretends to ignore it for a moment, not wanting to meet his jade eyes after just crying, he'd be concerned. Instead, she leaves him waiting as she talks to Haley and SG before they both break off to their own respective partners. Finally, she meets Jake's gaze, his normally light eyes now dark, full of a longing she had only seen once before. She swallows and gives him a shy smile, approaching him timidly.

"You clean up nice, Seresin," she jokes, feeling almost nervous under his gaze, but never uncomfortable.

"Me?" He finally speaks, his calloused hands pulling her in by her hips. "Darlin', you're always beautiful, but-," he shakes his head. "This look will be in my dreams for a while."

Honey laughs, Jake's lips pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they shuffle over for at least an hour's worth of pictures for Janet. The last picture before they all head out, the obligatory picture under Janet's magnolia tree, was one of Honey smiling at the camera, but Jake stared down at her instead. For anyone from the outside looking in, he was simply enamored with her, and couldn't turn his eyes away. While that was true, Jake knew it had more to do with him trying to memorize the happiness painted across her face, because after tonight, he would likely never see it again.

Music thumps in Jake's ears as he sways Honey in his arms. She's a vision below him, and he finds himself unable to keep his eyes (and his hands) off of her. She gives him a smile that dazzles as he spins and dips her to the upbeat pop song sounding from the speakers. She accidentally steps on his toes as he pulls her back in and apologizes, but he pays it no mind, it's not like he could feel it through his dress boots. She had abandoned her heels hours ago at the table they shared with their friends, his suit jacket following not long after. He grins, lifting her over his shoulder without warning, spinning her before placing her back down on her feet. She yelps in surprise, settling back into his hold, it was a move he'd pulled numerous times.

"This isn't a honky tonk! Why are you pullin' out those line dancing moves?!"

She giggles through her words, cheeks rosy with a slightly breathless blush. The action transports them to the summer of their sophomore year, spending hours upon hours in the farmhouse living room in sock feet, desperately attempting to learn the steps to a line dance Jake had convinced her to learn. Jake smiles back down at her, his hands settling on her hips, falling dangerously lower and lower each time.

"Can't I show off a little? Didn't learn all those moves for nothin'," Jake's response intertwines with his cocky smile and a wink. A plastic crown sits crooked on his head, a sash that adorned him 'Prom King' now over Willie's torso across the room. The upbeat pop song slowly morphs into a country love ballad, and Jake pulls her in close. Honey welcomes his touch, resting her head on his shoulder, one of her hands coming to the hair on the nape of his neck, the other resting on his chest. Her hair that Haley had so delicately curled was falling down around her face, and her lipstick that Sarah Grace had spent an hour and a half debating shades of had mostly been wiped away, notably making Jake's lips a little more pink than normal. She nuzzles her nose into the side of his neck as they sway, and Jake feels tingles travel up his spine. His hands pull her closer-if that was even possible-and planted a kiss on her temple.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Only a thousand times," Honey responds, her eyes now glimmering in the light as she looks up at him.

"Make it a thousand and one, you look beautiful tonight, baby."

He lifts a hand from her hip, pushing stray hair back behind her ear. Honey blushes, hiding her face in his neck again. She's quiet for most of the song, but it doesn't strike Jake as odd, quiet is her usual state of being. The song is fading when he hears her voice over the music.

"Does it feel weird? That everything is happening so fast? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad high school is ending, but...this time three months from now, SG and Haley will be hours away, and we'll be packing up our things and headed towards Austin. I swear to God just yesterday we were nine years old riding bikes up and down the road and now..."

Honey cuts off her own sentence. Jake certainly knew how fast the time was flying. The dread he had been swallowing for weeks was creeping back up, and the guilt of not telling her was beginning to weigh him down completely.

"It's flyin' by, for sure."

She closes her eyes and lets him sway her for the rest of the song, before the sweet song shifts to one more fit for fast-paced dancing. It was late into the night, and it was likely the adults would be kicking them out within the next hour. He waited for Honey's body to detach from his own, but when it never did, he looked down at her. Her eyes meet his, a look of desperation crossing her face. He'd know that look anywhere-she was overstimulated, and ready to go. He pulls her away just a few inches, his hands still lingering on her hips.

"Why don't you go tell the girls you're leavin' and we'll get out of here?"

She was tired of the party, the crowds, the loud music, and was relieved when she didn't have to utter a word for Jake to understand her discomfort. She nodded and shuffled to bid her friends farewell, returning back to their shared table to slide her shoes back on. Jake catches her out of the corner of his eye and approaches her, a confused look written across his face.

"What're you doin'?"

Honey looks up, "Puttin' my shoes on?"

"They hurt your feet, just let me carry you to the truck."

"That's sweet, J, but I'm heavy and this dress-"

"I wasn't askin', baby," His eyes are that same dark shade from before, and she simply swallows her retort.

He sticks his arm out for her to take, her heels now dangling from his opposite hand. She wraps her hand around his bicep until they reach the door, where he scoops her up as if she weighs nothing. Her arms instantly intertwine around his neck, a laugh escaping her as she laughs at the absurdity of it all-Jake Seresin, her childhood best friend, carrying her bridal style to his truck.

"Somethin' about this funny?"

She simply shakes her head and looks up at him, her face hot.

"Just, imaginin' what eight-year-old us would think, ya know? Nine-year-old Honey would've never imagined this. Would the younger you ever picture this?"

Jake doesn't even have to think.

"Yeah, yeah he could. I was in love with you the second I saw you, Honey, I just didn't know it yet."

Honey is rendered speechless, a warmth spreading in her torso and filtering to the rest of her body. Her eyes dart between his own as he slides her into the passenger side of his truck, darting down to place her shoes at her feet, slinging his jacket in the backseat. He goes to close the door, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

He looks up at her, an expression drawn across her face that he'd never seen before. He notes her chest rapidly rising and falling with short breaths, her eyes blown wide and dark, her body language radiating a sort of familiar heat that Jake had felt earlier in the night, when he had first seen her in the dress she was wearing.

"What is it, baby?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

She says nothing, bringing his face in-between her hands as she kisses him with a fervor he'd never seen coming from her. His own hands meet her hips, sliding her across the seat and closer to him. It's all lust, clashing teeth and heated kisses, his hands resting too far down her back and gripping her thighs, her lips on the plane of his neck.

She pulls away, breathless.

"We should get out of here."

Jake didn't have to be told twice as he raced over to the driver's side, his hand finding her leg as he peeled out of the parking lot. Her lips placed a kiss on the underside of his jaw as his grip tightened on her, and Jake was thanking the heavens above his grandparents had built that spare house nearly a mile and a half out from their own house. Jake was the epitome of a southern gentleman, never pushing or even insinuating the few intimate acts they'd shared so far, but now, with Honey looking like that, with her lips teasingly caressing his neck, most of his control had flown out the window.

Jake made it to the house in record time (by running a few stop signs and speeding) and all but flung himself out of the truck, pressing his lips fervently against her own as he pulled her from the truck, and was prepared to break down the damn door of the house to get her alone. He tossed his own shoes off at the door, pushing open the bedroom door with his foot as he plopped her carefully on the bed. She gave a soft chuckle, and he hovers over her close enough to feel her heart racing. He brings his hand to her cheek, his eyes meeting hers. His own chest heaves with short breaths, his mind muddled as he gazes into her dark irises. He brings his own lips to her neck and trailed down to her collarbone, the hands on her waist falling lower and lower as he moves his lips down her skin. He stops himself, looking down at her as his voice grows low and serious.

"Are you sure about this, baby? We can stop at any point. We can stop this right now, no pres-"

Her shaky hands fall on either side of his face, her fingers combing through his blonde locks.

"Jake," she pauses, using a beat to catch her breath. "I've never been more sure of anything. I have nothing to hide from you, I want you to do this. I-I love you."

Jake's heart hammers.

"I love you too."

His lips connect with her own, his calloused hand pushing the strap of her dress down her shoulder exposing her bare skin to him. As she revels under his touch, his mind only sees her, and he could not fathom thinking of her in any other way than in her state of pure bliss.

Hours later, as the moonlight glows on Honey's bare skin, Jake's momentary euphoria is diminishing. He watches her chest rise and fall as she sleeps, his fingers lightly tracing shapes onto her arm. She moves closer to him subconsciously, her face buried into the crook of his neck. He's wide awake, relishing in the contact as long as he can, because this time tomorrow, he'll be stammering and stuttering as he tells her the truth. His mind goes in circles about the acceptance letter hidden in the boot box under his bed. He takes a deep breath and kisses her temple before closing his eyes and willing his mind to shut off, but the storm swirling in his heart keeps him from resting. Jake instead spends his night watching her sleep, seeing her eyes flutter as she dreams, and thanks his lucky stars for the short time he had in her orbit. As the sun's rays begin to shine through the curtains of the bedroom, Jake's eyes finally began to close with sleep, his dreams peaceful.

Honey wakes with to the blinding sunlight hours later. She squints her eyes at the intruding brightness, before adjusting and opening them fully. She looks up to see Jake’s eyes closed with sleep, his blonde locks tossed about haphazardly. Even in sleep his eyebrows furrowed and she frowned, not liking seeing him in discomfort. She kisses the underside of his jaw lightly, and it causes him to stir just slightly. She shuffles just a bit in his hold, her body tired, but her mind wide awake. He shuffles again before his eyes blink open, and his spare hand rubs the sleep from them before looking down at her. He grins.

“Hi,” she speaks sheepishly, her pointer finger drawing shapes against his bare shoulder.

“Mornin’ baby,” He whispers down to her, kissing the crown of her head as he’s waking up. He knows they need to get dressed and shuffle back up to the house soon, or else his grandparents would be nosing around. Them lying naked in bed together was the last thing he wanted them to see.

“Are you okay?”

Her words take him by surprise. He wrinkles his brows, pushing her still slightly curly hair out of her face, before letting it rest around her waist again.

“M’peachy, darlin’. Why? Do I look rough or somethin’?”

She shakes her head.

“You were frownin' in your sleep, thought you were having a bad dream or something.”

Jake sighs, he wished it was only a bad dream. He painted on a smirk.

“I’m fine, promise. Didn’t get much sleep, couldn’t stop staring at the pretty girl in my arms.”

Honey wasn’t quite sure if she believed him, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment by pestering him.

“Such a flirt, Seresin,” she rises up to rest on her elbows, leaning down to leave a chaste kiss on his lips. “We should probably head back up before the old folks start poking around.”

He nods, another signature grin forming on his face.

“I’ll get up and movin’ as soon as you do.”

Honey plops back down against her pillows, the sunlight on her exposed skin now giving her a sunkissed appearance. It made Jake’s insides flame with want again, and he says nothing before kissing her neck again. She’s underneath him again in a split second, the air filled with the chirping of the morning birds and the sounds of pleasure tumbling from both of their lips. After they both reach their highs, she collapses back onto her pillow, his warm hands pulling her back to his front. He nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck, placing a kiss there as he lightly rubs his thumb against the top of her hip. They relish in one another’s presence in the shared bed, stealing kisses and not-so-innocent touches. They’re both too caught up in one another to realize that time was ticking by faster than they could imagine.

As Jake fell asleep next to her, he dreamt of a life years from now, curled into the very bedroom he’d fallen asleep in, a little different in decor, and definitely some thicker curtains, but she’d been bare beneath him, her sweet sounds filling his ears. He’d collapsed next to her, but when he looked down, a gold band adorned his left hand. When sunlight began to peep from around the windows of the imaginary life he created, he noted the sound of children’s laughter in the next room over. When he woke up to find Honey resting under his chin, his dream had almost felt real, more a glimpse into the future rather than a dream.

The cloud they live on seems to float into the next few weeks. It was as if they were finally falling victim to all of the typical teenage love things: sneaking around behind his grandparents back, keeping as quiet as possible while they fooled around with one another in shared sheets. They'd sneak out Jake's window and sneak off to an empty pasture in Jake's truck for complete solitude, just the two of them under a starry Texas sky. Honey had never smiled so wide, and her happiness practically radiated off of her. Jake couldn't help but feel her happiness just by being in her presence, her true bubbly nature on full display for him.

But the day before graduation, they're knocked down from their personal cloud nine.

Honey had left the house early for Haley's-a whole day for Honey to enjoy the warm Texas weather before the stress of graduation tomorrow. She'd been so happy before leaving, bumbling around their shared room in a swimsuit that made Jake's head spin. He'd tempted her to stay behind, all puppy dog eyes and grabby hands. She simply ignored him, grabbing her book of the week off of its designated spot on the bedside table, intending to read it while she sat poolside. She left with a beach towel in hand and a kiss on his cheek.

The second the front door shut with her departure, Jake had been a bundle of nerves, completely on edge as he paced back and forth. By the time he finally settled onto the mattress he had likely worn a hole in the carpet of his bedroom. He had finally procrastinated until the literal very last day, and now he had to burst her bubble with something they could've settled already if he'd just told her. He fumbled with the letter in his hand, rereading the paper over and over as if the words would magically change. His full legal name stared back at him in big, black, bold letters, almost taunting him.

'Mr. JACOB T. SERESIN III

1021 SERESIN FARM RD.

HAVEN, TX 77382

Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy as a member of the class of...'

Jake stopped, he didn't need to read anymore. He already knew what it said, and it wouldn't change. He'd already sent his acceptance, and, in less than a month he'd be on his way to Maryland for his summer. He slammed the letter onto the empty spot on the bedside table, throwing on his boots and heading towards the barn in an effort to focus his attention on something else. He worked silently, only his grumbles filling the air as his mind spun with the thousand different ways he was going to explain this to the person who he loved most. He had put it off for far too long, and he had to tell her, today. No more making excuses or putting it off, he would do it, no matter how terrified it made him. He took a deep breath and swiped at the sweat forming on his face as he made his way out to the fence line that needed repairing-that'd keep him busy for a while. As he worked, he was so laser-focused he had hardly noticed the sun beginning to set, or the sound of Haley's car rolling down the driveway. He definitely didn't hear the sound of his girlfriend's sweet laughter as she bid her friend farewell and rushed into the house to find him.

She frowned as she looked on the main floor, finding no signs of him, and she shuffled up the stairs as she called after him.

"Jake, are you up here?"

She noted his open bedroom door, and made her way in. Her shoulders fell as his presence was lacking in the empty room. She shook her head and plopped her bag onto his desk chair and moved to sit her (completely unread) novel onto it's spot on the bedside table, only to find the spot already filled. She assumed the paper was for her, maybe a note left by Jake, so she picked it up and began to read it. Her entire body stilled as she noted Jake's full name in a bold font, his address underneath.

'Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy...'

Her heart raced, eyes darting as she skimmed over the fluff of the letter, her attention going back when she noticed dates in bold letters.

'Induction Day is June 27th, which is the beginning of your-"

She stopped reading, her chest feeling tight. She sits down on the bed as she rereads the paper in her hand, as if she had misread the words printed so clearly on the page. Her hands were shaking, and her mind was reeling. She simply could not believe this was real, it had to be some mistake in the system. Jake wouldn't be leaving for Maryland come late June, he was coming with her to UT in August. As her chest heaved, she raced down the stairs with the letter held tightly to her torso. She was thankful Janet and Jacob Sr. had been selling at the farmer's market this afternoon, because her emotions had begun to rise to concerning levels, and if Jake didn't explain, things would get explosive.

When she reached the end of the stairs, she caught his work hat out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, baby, didn't see you come in," His face is painted with a smirk as he leans against the kitchen counter, glass of water in hand. Honey is having none of his flirtations.

"Jake, what is this?" She lifts the letter so the words were facing him.

Jake's smirk falls, his eyes peering into her own, and he swallows thickly. He says nothing, his mouth feeling incredibly dry despite the water he had just downed.

"This is a joke right? O-Or some mix-up in the system? Maybe you should call them, m-maybe there's another Jacob Thomas Seresin in the system and they sent it to the wrong address, or-" She's shaking her head as she looks down at the letter in her shaky hands. "Because this can't be right. I mean...right?"

Jake looks at her, her chest heaving with short breaths, eyes darting between him and the letter in her trembling hold. She bites her lip, waiting for him to speak, to reassure her it was a big mistake, or a mean prank he'd planted for her, just for him to say something.

He longs to look down and see anger behind her eyes, or for her to scream and shout at him, anything to diminish the pleading look that stares up at him.

"Jake? Talk to me, what's going on?"

He had been quiet for too long. He shakes his head at her.

"I-It's not some mix-up, Honey. I'm going to the Naval Academy at the end of June."

Honey's eyes dart back and forth between his own, trying to understand.

"As like a summer program or somethin'?"

Jake shakes his head again, moving slowly to take the letter from her, grasping her trembling hands into his own.

"I'm attending the Academy full-time. I-"

Honey begins to tune out everything he's saying, as if his words had shut off her ability to think. She stares down at her feet, not sure what to say.

"-I-I wanted to tell you soo-"

"How long have you known?"

Her abrupt words cut him off, and he looks at her confused.

"I-"

"Because I've only heard mention of the Naval Academy once. During football season, and only in passing," She pauses, her once bright eyes now heavy with sorrow. "H-Have you been lying to me this whole time?"

She takes two timid steps back from him, ripping her hands from his grasp.

"Honey, baby, no, I-"

"Don't call me that," her voice is quiet, and when he looks up at her again, her eyes are full of tears that had slowly begun to fall down her cheeks. "This induction d-date, it's less than a month from now. Were you ever going to tell me if I didn't find this?"

Her arms are crossed across her chest, her body language fully on defense. There was no shouting or sharp comments that were fueled by anger, as Jake had expected. Instead of lashing out at him, she simply folded in on herself.

"All these months, everything we talked about. Going to college together, movin' in together, marriage, babies...was it some sick joke to you? Because that shit was real to me, Jacob."

The use of his full name comes as a digging surprise, she only ever used it in a joking manner, but now, she was far from joking. Jake doesn't say anything, standing stupidly as the girl he loves falls apart in front of him. His mind is overrun with things he wants to say to her, to shout from the rooftop, but none of it seems worthy enough at this moment. He's hurt her, in a way he couldn't imagine he ever would, and nothing he could say would fix it.

"I-If you wanted to break up with me," she stops, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes as her lips tremble on the cusp of a sob. She takes a deep breath, one that looks painful even through Jake's own teary eyes. "I-If you wanted to break up with me, yo-you should've just told me, because this, this is so much worse."

Jake's heart sinks, that's the last thing he wanted to do.

"Honey, I'm not breakin' up with you. I-I'm doin' this for you," His chest is rising and falling just as rapidly as hers, but he's not quite as good at pulling the reins of his own emotions. "If I went to UT, I'd waste my grandparents' money takin' classes I would half-ass, and probably permanently damage my body playin' football. I'd come back to Haven after wastin' four years, take over the farm, and stay here forever until I die, n-"

"That's a bad thing? I didn't realize my dreams were so lowly compared to yours." Her voice is sharp. Her uneasiness is now festering in insecurity, and, as a result, anger.

"That's not what I'm sayin'," Jake tries to slow his breathing, desperate pleading with her to just listen to him. "When I go and do this Honey, we'll have a better life. You'll get a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in any city in the country you want. I'll get to do what I truly want to do for the rest of my life. Honey, I know you love Haven, God, I do too, it's my home, but you and I both know we're made for somethin' bigger, baby."

She can't even bear to look at him, putting almost all of her energy in not collapsing into gut-wrenching sobs in the middle of the tile floor. She shakes her head as she lets out a dry laugh.

"You're so hard-headed, Jake. I already have a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in the only city in the world I'd want to plant roots in. My house could be a cardboard box next to a dumpster in New York City if you were next to me! You think UT was my dream school, that I wanted to plant my life in Austin?! I chose it because I knew you'd be by my side! That was all I ever wanted! But now I'm realizin' just how girlish and naive that sounds, and I'm sorry. I-I didn't realize you dreamt of somethin' different. I-I just wish you would've told me." She wipes the stray tears sliding down her face, the sad, watery smile he expected her to wear paints her face. She looks back down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails.

"Congratulations," her voice is so small he hardly hears it. "I know you'll do great, you always do. I, um, I'm gonna go home."

Jake's blood freezes. "You are home."

She gives him another faux smile as she shakes her head back and forth.

"This is your home, Jake. My home is at the end of the road. You know where to find me."

"No," he steps in front of her. "I-I know you're angry, and you've got every right to be. But I'm not lettin' you go back there. You take our bed, I'll sleep on the couch. O-Or we can sleep in separate rooms for now. I'm not lettin' you run off because you're scared I'm leavin'. No matter what you think, I still love you, that's never changin'. I'm not dumpin' you off, Honey, that isn't what this is."

He sees it, the light completely draining from her as the conversation continues. The years of breaking her out of her shell, of healing her eternal worry of everyone she loves leaving, it was all wiped within a matter of minutes. He had carved an open wound into the heart he'd sewn back together, and now, she stands in front of him, numb and completely breaking simultaneously.

Her back is facing him, and his hand lands softly on her arm as her torso shudders with an audible sob. She clutches at her chest as her breaths are short and ragged, and Jake knows this action well. She's panicking, her anxious thoughts culminating in physical symptoms. As much as he, too, wanted to collapse into a pile of grief, he moved to help her through her own.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay," Jake's voice is at a normal level, his hand grabbing her own and bringing it to his chest. "You gotta breathe, darlin'. C'mon."

Her eyes look up at him, and he doesn't even recognize the person staring back at him. It shakes him to his core, but he pushes through until she's breathing calmly next to him, both of their backs against the counter as they sit on the cold kitchen tile. In an action he doesn't quite understand, she moves to rest her head on his shoulder. She doesn't utter a word, but she allows him to hold her close. She falls asleep against him, and he brings her to his own bed, tucking her in before placing a kiss on her forehead. He moves to leave the room, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave. Stay with me, please. I don't want to lose you before I have to."

He doesn't argue, his heart is too tender to ever deny her request. He slides into the sheets next to her as she tucks her head under his chin, as if nothing had changed. But, for Honey, everything had changed.

She had been a fool, stupid, to think Jake wouldn't dump her after taking what he wanted from her. Her mother's sharp words rang around in her mind:

"That Seresin boy will dump you the second he gets what he wants, girl. Just you watch."

"You? With a boy like him? You must be more stupid than I thought, sweetheart."

"You're going to end up just like me, lied to, cheated on, with a ungrateful, bitch daughter who hates your guts."

Jake rested peacefully, while Honey saw everything she feared most come alive around her. Silent tears ran down her own face, and as she sat there, she knew what she had to do-if Jake was going to abandon her, she'd follow suit.

The night of graduation, after diplomas had been given out and caps had been thrown, Honey and Jake's small friend group had all come together on the Seresin's place, gathered around a bonfire in an empty clearing, most of them nursing bottles of alcohol they had smuggled from their parents' supply. Honey watched as Jake laughed with Brett and Willie, darting her eyes down when Ethan brought Sarah Grace into a smothering kiss as she jokingly pushed him off of her. She felt like the Honey she used to be-sitting idly on the sidelines as life happened to everyone else. She carried a heavy sadness and anger in her chest, one she could never put down, not even with the concoction of various liquids in the solo cup she held, occasionally taking sips. The burn felt nice, an easy distraction from the gnawing of anger in her chest. She smiled as Willie pulled her from her chair and made her dance to a stupid country song, feeling a little lighter as she let loose. One look at Jake had her shut down again, recluse in her green lawn chair. As the night carried on, she looked out at her friend group one last time, memorizing the warm feeling, because it was the last time they would be her friends. Come morning, she'd be long gone from Haven, and, since they were Jake's friends first, she'd lose them.

After the festivities of the night were over and their guests had stumbled back to their own homes, Jake and Honey made their way back inside, carrying out their routine as if it was any other night. Despite the unresolved feelings she carried, Honey refused to let Jake carry them too. She remained neutral, still sleeping in his arms every night, still tagging along at events, as far as he knew, they had three days until he left for the Academy, and he had planned to spend every waking moment with her. He had no idea of the plans that Honey had, the ones that would unexpectedly change his life forever.

The Seresin farm house was eerily quiet. Everyone was asleep as the moonlight seeped in through the thin curtains. At least, mostly everyone.

Under the guise of the darkness, Honey slips out of Jake's arms slowly, moving so carefully as to not wake him up. If he woke up and caught her, she'd never go through with her plan, she'd be sucked back into bed with his encapsulating emerald eyes and his desperate pleas for her to stay. She shuffles across the hall to her own bedroom, sliding the duffel bag she'd packed out from under her bed, sliding on her trusty Converse high tops, and shutting the door behind her. As she shuffles down the stairs with Jake's car keys in her hands, her racing mind thinks of the conversation they'd had just four days prior. She'd been sleeping in his grasp as he whispered down to her.

"My truck," he started, his hands intertwining in her hair. "I want you to take it, to UT. I won't be here to use it, and it'll make me feel better knowing you'll have a way to get back and forth."

She'd protested and fought him on it, but now, as she snuck out of the creaky front door, she was glad he'd done it. She slung her bag into the back seat, sliding into the driver's side, and slamming the door closed. Her chest heaves with anxious breaths, tears already clouding her eyes. She shoves them down and adjusts the seat that had been set for Jake's lanky legs, and turns the key. The local country station comes on, and Honey ignores it, turning her body to look out the back glass and backs the truck out of the yard and down the dusty driveway, ready for the long drive ahead of her. She was leaving Jake in a way that only felt right-he wasn't going to take that from her, she wouldn't be the one abandoned this time-he would.

Jake had woken as he heard her footsteps descend down the stairs. It wasn't unusual, Honey had been up at all hours of the night since the day of their disagreement. He shut his eyes closed again, leaving his arms open for her to slide back into. When the sound of his truck starting fills his ears, he pops his eyes open, not bothering to even throw on a shirt as he takes the stairs two at a time, running through his house and out the front door in only his boxers. He only gets a glimpse of the taillights down the driveway as his bare feet hit the grass of the yard. He's stomping back through the house, not caring much if he wakes anyone. He's lifting the house phone with a quick pace, dialing her cellphone number even quicker. As he expected, no answer. His hands shake, his heart hammers, and he runs back up the stairs to at least toss on a shirt and some shoes, his looks be damned. He was going to grab the keys to his grandfather's truck and take after her, she couldn't have made it further than down the road by now.

When he slams open his door, he notices the letter on his nightstand, because it's out of place. Normally, Honey's book or multiple books rest there, ready for her to pick up whenever. Instead it's a flat, white sheet of paper, and he glares at it as if he could make it catch flames. He snatches it up and opens it, expecting to find Honey's delicate cursive etched onto it in ink. Instead he finds typed letters, Honey's legal first and last name in big, bold letters at the top of the page. She had likely denoted her preferred name, because it was used in the greeting.

"Dear Honey,

Congratulations on your admission to Mississippi State University! For over 100 years, MSU..."

Jake stops reading, his unease turning into flaming hot anger. He slams the letter back onto the nightstand as tears form in his eyes, his chest growing tight with the bout of sobs threatening to fall from his lips. He sits down on his mattress, his head in his hands as he lets his silent tears fall onto the carpet below. How had he not noticed it? Had there been signs? There had been no sudden withdrawal of her affections, no serious changes in her mood. As Jake calms the best he can at the moment, he realizes she didn't mean this in malice, just like he didn't have any malice behind shipping off to the Academy. He loved her, and, at least he hoped, she still loved him. They had been sewn at the hip since they were nine years old, perhaps it was due time they went their separate ways. No matter how much he told himself that this was for the better, he felt alone, empty. At this moment, despite knowing and loving her for over a decade, Jake, for the first time in his life, finally knew exactly how Honey always felt: abandoned.

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@djs8891

@unattainablesillygoose

@psuedochakra

@mrsevans90

#jake hangman seresin #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #hangman & honey #jake seresin angst #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #top gun hangman #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin smut

183 notes · View notes

s-creations · 9 months

Text

Wishes - Mario x Geno One-Shot

Every day, since the Star left, Mario would talk to the night sky. About what's been happening since the adventure ended, how he'd been handling life, what was new but also the same.

How he missed Geno.

How he wished he could see the Star on more time.

Fandom: Super Mario & Releated Fandoms, Super Mario RPG Rating: General Audiences Relationship: Mario/Geno (Nintendo), Additional Tags: Other characters are at least mentioned, Missing Someone, If you constantly wish will they come back?, They're gay your honor, And that's in no way a bad thing.

@nintendonut1, this one's for you. Fun little 2 hour exercise to write this up. And another 2 for typing and editing.

Link to Comic Reference.

“Um, hey Geno… It’s been about a week since you left. I hope the reconstruction of Star Road is going well. I’m kind of assuming it is. I mean, I’ve been seeing a lot of small…I don’t know, miracles happening? That’s the best way to put it, I suppose. Maybe small wishes? Either way, good moments have been happening again and I know…I know that has to be you.”

“I hope you’re okay. Mallow misses you. He’s talked to Peach and I a few times. Gaz was nice enough to give the doll to Mallow after learning what happened. And Mallow…gave it to me. Gave you to me… Said I probably needed you more than he did…”

“I really want to see you again. I know that’s a really big ask. I’m sure you’re busy. But I really, really miss you. Just…Just one more day. If you could manage that. I’ll take an hour, a minute even! Just…”

“I wish I could hold you again…”

“Hey again Geno. I’m seeing a lot more of your handy work. Only after 23 days, that’s impressive. You must be close to finishing it all up, if not already done. I mean, I’m sure you had help, it wasn’t all just you. The other Stars you were talking about helping out. You all no doubt working together to get everything finished.”

“Luigi’s still curious about you. Well, he really wants to know what it’s like to kiss a Star. B-But he also keeps asking me to retell the different portions of our adventure. How I met Mallow, what it was like working together with Bowser, how stubborn Peach is as well as how she is as a fighter.”

“How…How we met, what you’re like, your experiences while being down here. When I fell for you, the first time we kissed, what I…admire about you…”

“I think he’s trying to make sure I don’t forget about you. I mean, I never could. But…he knows how I’ve been feeling lately… He is my brother after all. He knows I miss you and…he knows I’ve not been myself. His questions…help me focus on the good times we had…”

“I wish you could meet Luigi, I think you two would get along great.”

“Hey Geno. It’s been about a month and a half since…since our adventure ended. Luigi thinks saying ‘since you left’ isn’t the best way to think about it.”

“Um, things have been going pretty well. Peach is as supportive as ever, she and Luigi have really helped me. Mallow’s done well falling into his title of prince. It helps that he has so many people supporting him.”

“We’ve finally heard from Bowser. He’s been quiet since…well, you know. He asked us to come to his keep. All three of us, if you can believe it. We were a little concerned for a moment thinking he was planning something devious. But he just wanted to show us around. Show off what he and his minions had been able to clean up and rebuild. It’s quite impressive.”

“Granted, the moment was ruined when Bowser announced he had his next plan laid out. Still, it was a rather enjoyable experience…”

“I wish you could see the progress we’ve made.”

“Hey Geno, we’re about 4ish months out. Stopped a few of Bowser’s plans. I saw your handiwork first hand. Felt lighter on a few jumps. Found a few hidden Power-Ups that shouldn’t have been there. Thank you, for that. I mean, I know you can only help if someone wishes for that boost for me. Can you…make wishes as well as grant them? Can you see me from where you are? I can’t…I don’t think I can see you. I’ve tried…”

“I wish I could just see you up in the sky.”

“Hey Geno.”

“I wish I could know that you’re doing okay.”

“Hey Geno.”

“I wish I could hear from you.”

“Hey Geno.”

“I wish I could really talk to you.”

“Hey Geno.”

“I wish you could have spent more time here.”

“Hey Geno.”

“I wish you knew how much I missed you.”

“Hey Geno…”

“I wish you could come home.”

His soul was practically singing with joy and excitement as he descended from the night sky. Fully focused on the house with the green roof lying below him.

He should probably get Mario’s attention.

But he also wanted this to be a surprise.

Oh, this was going to be so great!

He was thrilled to find an open window, easily gliding in. Excitement grows further upon finding the familiar puppet. His body. Sitting so contently on one of Mario’s shelves. Kept close to where the human slept.

Where Mario dreamed.

He hoped he was able to provide good dreams to Mario in some way.

Floating into the familiar form felt like returning to a safe space. The return of the weight of gravity welcoming as he became familiar with his limbs once more. The weight of it all providing a way of grounding him again, to tell him he was finally back and-

Geno let out a rather undignified yelp as the shelf below him collapsed. Said puppet banging his head against the wooden floor.

Ah, yes, pain. The one thing he didn’t miss.

“Ow, ow, ow…” Geno mumbled as he carefully massaged his head. Slowly moving until he was kneeling on the ground. Slowly opening his eyes, Geno took a chance to better look around the room.

Even with how dim it was, light only provided from the open doorway, he could still make out enough of what the room held. It was an overall simple layout. Two beds, each dressed with either a red or green comforter laying across each bed, sat across from each other in the room. Allowing enough space on either side for a dresser and desk.

The doorway leading out to the rest of the home that was providing the only light for the bedroom was quickly blocked by a large shadow.

Looking over found Mario standing in the doorway. Appearing both frazzled and shocked. No doubt startled by the loud crash.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious by still being on the ground, Geno swiftly got to his feet.

“Ah…sorry. I kind of wrecked your shelf.” Geno said quickly. Not sure what he should be saying at this point.

“I should’ve gotten your attention first, I was just… I was really excited to…um…”

It dawned on Geno that Mario had not moved an inch since appearing in the doorway. Gripping onto the door frame as he just stared in disbelief at the puppet.

Had Geno been a bit too hopeful in being accepted once again? That they would fall into their similar patterns as before? Has Geno been gone too long? Was Mario…upset?

“I-I know it took me a while!” Geno attempted to explain, “The work up on Star Road never ends, y’know? But…”

Even if Mario was upset. Even if Geno had missed his chance to return properly. He still needed the human to know what he’d done for the puppet.

“I’ve always heard them,” Geno choked out, hands pressed to his chest. The familiar feeling of tears spilling from his eyes, his throat tight as if stuffed with cotton. “All those words, for me to… To come home… I’ve heard every last one. To see you again, to see all that you’ve talked about, it sounds so wonderful…”

Geno’s eyes flickered down, “I just hope I’m not to late-”

The puppet tensed as he felt warmth pressed to his cheek. Eyes snapping back up to find that Mario had moved much closer. The human now looks back in absolute shock. Geno doing his very best to not melt into the touch as Mario’s thumbs gently brushed across his cheeks.

“N-No way…” Mario eventually whispered out, “Am I dreaming? Is this real?”

“Is it really you, Geno?”

The puppet was absolutely stunned at how happy, how joyful, how relieved Mario sounded. The worry he felt about the quiet before completely gone with how radiant Mario now looked at him.

Letting out a relieved laugh, Geno replied with, “Y-Yeah, that’s me! Let’s get this show on the road, right?”

He faltered slightly as tears started to silently fall from Mario’s eyes. Unable to ask if he was alright before being pulled into a tight hug. Mario calling out the puppet’s name with absolute exhilaration.

“I th-thought I’d never see you again!” Mario choked out, still crying, “But-But you’re here and you’re real and-”

Geno felt the sob that escaped the human. Mario desperately clawing at Geno to get him as close as possible as he whispered softly, ‘I can’t believe it!’.

As his own tears started to fall once more, Geno allowed himself to sink into the warmth Mario created. Wrapping arms around the human as he buried his face into the crook of Mario’s neck. Even as he was shaking from Mario’s gentle but happy cries, Geno knew this was what he wanted.

Geno loved Star Road.

Geno loved the Mushroom Kingdom and this world.

Geno loved this body.

But he knew that it would always be Mario that he would pine for the most.

Geno would always go back to Mario.

Mario was his home.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” Geno eventually whispered back, “I’m here, Mario…”

He wasn’t sure how long they remained like that. Each tangled up in the other. Soaking up the warmth and joy each other was providing.

But Geno was broken out of the moment when something bitter entered his nose. The puppet pulled back slightly to ask, “Is something burning?”

“Mamma Mia, my pasta!”

Mario was out of the bedroom before Geno could fully process what had been said. A few seconds behind in following the human out. Freezing as his eyes landed on a large fire on the stove top.

“How did this even happen!?” Geno called out frantically. Mario rushed as he filled another post with water and flung it onto the fire.

It all eventually calmed down when the pot on fire was put out and reduced to smoke. Both staring at it with a mixed feeling of disappointment and residual shock. The contents inside a dried, brunt puck of food.

“Well…” Mario broke the silence, “do you mind if your first meal back is take out?”

Geno couldn’t help but laugh, “I totally do not.”

Pizza was an absolutely amazing first meal to have. Made even better that they could sit across from each other. Regaling each other with tales from what’s happened for the past few months.

Luigi was thrilled to properly meet Geno. The puppet understood in an instant the protective older sibling feeling Mario had for the other human. Geno immediately promised to keep the younger brother safe at any cost.

It was a joy to see everyone once again. Peach, Mallow, Gaz, it was all amazing. Seeing how they’d changed yet remained the same.

Running into Bowser was an interesting interaction. As the Koopa was surprised yet happy to see Geno. But was also in the middle of trying to kidnap Peach when spotting Geno.

It was a wonderful experience to see the world once more.

Even more so with Mario right by his side.

Geno was finally home.

And he was more than happy to stay.

#s-creations #fanfiction #nintendonut1 #based from a comic #based from artwork #mario #geno #mario x geno #genario #let them have a happy ending Nintendo!#just let them kiss!

121 notes · View notes

just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 11 months

Note

For the OC meet and greet, I'm going to give you one hell of a challenge >:)

TW | cancer mention, abusive parent mention, past child abuse, brief mention of self harm and suicidal ideation, noncon body modification

I want to know how your characters would handle Luca. They're very small (all of 5'0" and 95lbs on a good day) and are one of the most terrifying whumpers in my cast. White-blond hair, chillingly pale blue eyes. Even though they're pushing 30, they constantly get mistaken as a child by strangers. Their pretty, doll-like features don't help.

They come from my Liliholm and Page universe (superhero whump to anyone unfamiliar), and have the ability to heal almost any wound they themself inflict on another person. Those same powers will heal their own wounds whether they want them to or not. The kicker? All the pain they would go through for their body to heal that wound themself—all those months of aching and misery—still have to be felt in the matter of seconds it takes them to heal. They themself are nigh indestructible. Their employer uses them as a torturer. Not for information, but as punishment for political and social adversaries that step too far out of line. They are very, very good at their job, and very well feared by the people in their circle.

They're abrasive, bitter, and aggressive in just about every sense of the word. They currently only have three people in the world they care about: their partner in crime, Garcia; their "handler", Leon Molinaro, who is responsible for making sure they don't maim anyone their employer wouldn't approve of; and their horribly abusive mother who they're trying to keep alive through her chemo treatments. They can't stand to be touched by anyone, and are VIOLENTLY sex-repulsed. Even the people in their life that they give a shit about are kept at arm's length and then some.

Beneath that surface, you've got someone who has been abused their entire life, is being manipulated by their father-figure employer into believing he actually cares about them, and who has been unsuccessfully suicidal for decades. There's also a particularly nasty little rumor about them—that Luca is actually a eunuch. How that might have happened is anyone's guess, but if it's true, it certainly wasn't voluntary.

In their home universe, the only one brave enough to truly adopt them is Leon. Would anyone in your universe take them on?

Hmmmmm look. Am I on a Hilton kick? Yes I am but ironically enough it’s Hilton’s world that has my healing character (Parker is floating around somewhere). Griffin, Hilton’s Carewhumper, could most likely keep them in line. He’s an undercover agent.

Griffin can read people’s body language and expressions so well it’s practically impossible to lie to him. He also had a shit family so it’s not a world unknown to him.

There’s also Trevor, who is Griffin’s boss (the one griffin is trying to take down). The thing with Trevor is that his touch is addictive. Makes anyone he interacts literally crave his presence and attention. I’m super curious how they would work out if Luca is touch adverse and heals. Would it work? It would not be fun for anyone involved the first time.

Yeah Griffin is Luca’s best bet. He’d likely the be the one with enough personal experience to be able to ignore the agression and get pushed away. He’d have to keep Luca and Hilton COMPLETELY SEPARATED though because holy shit that would be bad. They would hate each other to the bone. Even when they’re older, Hilton “adopts” Parker, my healing OC, and would do everything in his power to keep them away from Luca from fear Parker would end up even more traumatized then they already are. Idk if Luca would even want to interact with them, but Hilton would literally attack if they tried and now there’s a whole new mess lol.

Other than that? I have a weird gut feeling Luca and Tool would get along okay. Can’t put my finger on it but I just feel like they’d find common ground and weirdly get along.

Luca would tear Brody to fucking shreds lmao.

#oc meet and greet #Luca (yet-another-heathen)#cancer mention #abusive parent mention #mention of self harm #mention of non con body modification

9 notes · View notes

daily-haley · 4 months

Text

Call Me Crazy

Today, I'm on a flight flying from Dallas, Texas, to Albuquerque, New Mexico. The weather isn't the best, but I need to visit my father who is in the hospital, fighting for his life. I was contacted by his medical team saying that his health had declined overnight and might not see his upcoming birthday. Devastating, I know. Cancer sucks.

But I don't know if I'll be able to reach him on time. You see, the passenger beside me is dead. Not as in dead asleep, but actually, dead. I thought he had just fallen asleep and rested his head on my shoulder, but there was no warmth to him. Talk about a cold shoulder.

Strange enough, this guy isn't even old enough to pass away—so suddenly. He appears to be in his thirties, like me, and handsome. Several flight attendants had glanced at us before, but not in a way that they looked at everyone else. I don't know if it was something the gentleman was served or anything, but whatever the cause of his death is will have to be investigated.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We're twenty minutes out from Albuquerque, New Mexico, but we're going to experience some brief turbulence. Please fasten your seat belts.”

The sign above our heads turns on, and people start fastening their seat belts. Naturally, I began panicking because the guy beside me had no seatbelt on.

Should I fasten it for him? How bad will the turbulence be? These thoughts begin to prick my mind the tighter I adjust my seat belt. The worst-case scenario is that people discover that the passenger is dead, and we have an emergency landing where I'm taken into custody. Or, we do the emergency landing, and I have to be held up at the airport before I can catch another flight to see my father.

Either way, I'm completely screwed. Everyone will look to me first as the culprit when I'm just as confused and clueless as everyone else. But I have a plan to avoid all of this.

When we land, I'll be the first off the plan. I'm hoping to be out of the airport before they even discover the dead body. It's not like I'm the flash but I was good in track and field back in highschool, then again, I'd look guilty if I left so abruptly.

The aircraft shakes with low momentum, and the weight on my shoulder drops into my lap. Well, shit. Now I have an audience from the people sitting in the row across from us. A family of three. Father, mother, and teenage boy.

They're the first to witness this dead body being thrown around like a rag doll aside from me. But they won't know he's dead if I just play it off.

I mouth the word ‘sorry’, and try to help the man sit upright before fastening the seat belt around his waist.

The family of three continue to watch me try my best to play off this whole fiasco, meanwhile, I'm sweating bullets—losing my patience with this dead weight. But in the end, when the turbulence had halted, they didn't say anything to me. Instead, they called over one of the flight attendants and they all looked at me—cautiously. Then I knew I was in deep shit.

Once we landed in Albuquerque, the captain made an announcement for everyone to remain seated. It'd been fifteen minutes since he said so, and my heartbeat was continuously thumping so loud in my ears that I could barely remember what I had for breakfast—knowing that it was possibly the last tasty meal I'd eaten before going to jail.

“Mr. Holten?” The flight attendant from before comes up to me, followed by two police officers.

I burst into a fit of tears, hysterical at this point. Begging for them not to take me away, pleading my innocence. I don't care if people were staring, or recording, but I wouldn’t want this all to end in some false accusations.

“Oh, please don't take me away! I swear I don't know how he died, you have to believe me! He must’ve taken something from you!" I pointed my finger at the flight attendant like a child. "You're the one who poisoned him!”

“Mr Holten!” She raises her voice at me. “Do you know where you are right now?”

I look around and see people watching. “Yes, we're in Albuquerque, New Mexico.” I start to calm myself. “I'm here to visit my father. He's sick in hospital, I can't go to jail, lady.”

“Very good. I understand your situation so would you kindly follow the police so you may be escorted off the flight?” The flight attendant gestures towards the two policemen.

A shook my head. “I can't go to jail. I have to see my father.”

The people watching start to murmur amongst themselves. So I turn to the people behind me. “You believe me, right?! I didn't kill him! I didn't kill this man!”

The people cower as I spoke. And the last thing I knew, I was being detained and walked off the plane in handcuffs. “No! You can't take me away! I'm innocent! Daddy, I want to see you! I want to see my daddy!” I wail.

Seated in the row across from Mr Holten, the teenage boy looks down at his cellphone staring at the missing person notice. Posted just a few hours before take off.

Name: Terry Holten

Age: 33

Height: 6’2

Build: Slim

Appearance: Brown hair, Dark brown eyes.

Illness: Schizophrenia

Last seen: Dallas, Texas.

Note: Has a tendency to slip into episodes about visiting his late father.

If found, please contact xxx-xxx-xxxx

#short stories #short story #my writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writer stuff #writers #writerscommunity #mental health #schizophrenia #writing #original work #reupload

5 notes · View notes

selkies-world · 8 months

Text

Can someone with child experience DM me??? There's a scene I'm writing which features an 8 - 12 year old girl (her age is still being decided, but rn she's 11 & that works for every other aspect of the story) and she goes into a flashback of severe trauma, and I'm just not sure how to make it seem less forced / staged. I have 0 experience with children of any age group, especially not traumatised ones. All I know is theoretical.

There's a very edited version of the first attempt at the scene with a lot of details redacted below the cut. Following that, there's a very edited, bare-bones version of the second attempt at the scene with the same details redacted.

If you DM me, I can tell you about the details - I just don't want to post them here because they contain 2 major plot-reveals.

[Please keep in mind this is for a piece of original writing which will be getting published as a book, so please don't steal / copy these scenes for fics. I have no issue with you taking inspiration from them, but remember there is a distinct difference between taking inspiration & copying directly. Please don't make me regret posting this by making it into a copyright nightmare. Just be respectful.]

Characters:

K (11, f)

L (26, m)

F (28, m)

P (21 - genderfluid)

J (25, m)

S (23, f)

The set-up:

F is K's guardian, though doesn't have full custody. F, S, J & P have lived together for years & K is used to seeing them all as her family unit, though F is her primary care person, guardian & main parental figure. L is new, and the other adults trust him, he is close to F. K does not feel close to L, but she tolerates his presence because she knows the rest of her family like him. Up until this point, L has been left unsupervised with K twice, and nothing bad has happened, though it was for much shorter time periods and there was always someone else within shouting distance. In the days leading up to this scene, he has noticed her behaving slightly differently than what he's grown used to seeing from her, but he isn't close enough to her to know or guess why.

L has 0 child experience.

The first attempt at the scene:

P & J have already gone out for the day. F and S say they're going out so L prepares to leave, but K refuses to go. F asks L to babysit - F & S won't be out long, anyway. The most L will have to do is make sure K doesn't burn the house down if she makes pancakes. L agrees, figuring an 11 year old who low-key loathes him will generally stay up in her room anyway & he won't actually have to act as an authority or as supervision. F & S leave.

Later, L hears a crash & goes to investigate, then finds out it came from K's room. He knocks & pushes the door open, & sees her bedroom is completely trashed- her jigsaws are thrown around & the pieces are lying all over the floor and surfaces, soft toys are lying on the floor, books are ripped, dolls are decapitated and scribbled on, baby dolls have been thrown at the walls & some have cracked, the mirror is broken, clothes are strewn from the closet all over the floor, there's blood on the wall from where cut hands were after coming into contact with the broken glass. K is curled up between her bed & a cabinet & is crying silently / possibly sobbing.

L approaches slowly, and notices the dolls have been mutilated - arms have been snapped off, heads have been turned, faces have been suffocated, legs have been broken off with their elastics hanging out of the joints, clothes have been ruined, ink and paint and blood are splattered across them all.

L sits down near the cabinet & observes the room from K's perspective & realises she destroyed the room & her toys in an outburst. Eventually after trying to wait her out, L asks what K remembered - he is aware she has PTSD, but all the adults had said she didn't remember her trauma.

K makes a statement about the pinnacle of the traumatic event she went through.

Hearing it out loud triggers her into saying it again & again, until she's shouting it. She also begins to scratch and claw at her skin and her hair.

L reaches out & pulls her out of the space she'd fit herself between the bed & cabinet because he thinks he's helping by preventing her using the bed or cabinet as tools to hit herself against if her behaviour were to escalate. K proceeds to scream at full volume & starts hitting & kicking him. L lets go, K doesn't expect it & begins to fall because of the momentum. The angle would have her hitting her head on the cabinet. L reaches out again to steady her, and proceeds to get kicked in the stomach & bitten. He backs off entirely, and can only watch as K proceeds to scream & cry & hit / punch / claw herself.

[CUT]

K is entering the numb / nonresponsive part of her episode. She looks at all the destruction in her room & her broken toys & starts to sob as she shuts down.

L approaches her slowly, and says her name until she reacts. When she does, she says she didn't mean to break the toys, and says they'll never be fixed. L says they can fix them, and it'll be OK. K repeats his words and he confirms the statement. Then she registers that her hands are cut, and holds them up to him - her palms are cut from broken glass, there's shallow cuts of her faces from her own scratching / hitting, and there's blood smeared all over her. L says he can fix that too, and takes the barely-responsive K through to the bathroom to try and DIY some first aid (he knows animal / vetenary first aid but not human first aid). K shuts down entirely & is mute & limp as L patches her back together, & stares through him when he speaks to her to try to engage her.

[CUT]

By the time F & S return, K is passed out on her favourite armchair in the den & L is on the couch. K is hugging the 1 doll L was able to mend entirely for her, though it's still very clear it was broken. K is very visibly bandaged together. F asks wtf happened, L recounts the event. S gets a blanket for K, and F & L go out the back to discuss it all so that F doesn't have to try to control his reaction. After his initial reaction, F goes on to tell L about K's trauma.

To me, this felt very forced, and relied too heavily on K trusting L to put her back together, which seemed unlikely after her outburst, and the amount she has been openly hostile / cold towards him up until this point. It also seemed like a helluva lot for F to come home to & a lot for L to explain, especially without K backing his story up.

Cue version 2:

P & J already left & are expected to be out all day. F, S, L & K are in the living room, K is playing on the floor & partially watching cartoons, L is getting low-key absorbed into the kids cartoon on screen. F & S go out, and it's only supposed to be for an hour, so L agrees to stay with K, who says she doesn't want to go out. F & S leave.

A while later, the cartoon ends & a news show comes on. K complains & L looks for a different cartoon or kids channel. He puts on another cartoon show, and K doesn't protest. As the theme tune starts, L sees K starting to mime / hum along to the lyrics & assumes she's enjoying it. He then notices her beginning to act bizarrely towards the doll she's playing with. When he asks what she's doing, she ignores him & continues humming along to the tune. She keeps humming the tune on a loop even after the theme tune stops & the cartoon starts. L gets worried & notices that K seems to be in a trance. He asks her to stop what she's doing to the doll, which she doesn't hear. He tries to redirect her attention, which she doesn't hear.

Finally, he crouches down on the floor and shakes her shoulder to try and get her attention, since he's getting very disturbed by what she's doing to the doll. K freezes & goes silent, and pauses the behaviour. L praises her & returns to his place on the couch & lightly says for her to watch the TV, but he is still uncomfortable when he looks at the doll.

K stays frozen for a few moments as she watches the screen, before L notices her starting to tremble. He asks what's wrong, and realises she's crying. She keeps shaking & drops the doll. K is staring through space, and then begins to scratch & claw at her neck, gasping & sobbing about how she can't breathe. She's kicking at the space in front of her & struggling as if she's being restrained. L tries to get her to speak, but as he watches how she's moving & behaving, he realises it was the same thing she had the doll do repeatedly a few moments before.

L turns the TV off & tries to help K, but she keeps kicking & clawing & fighting herself / the air, so L relents & sits back, but keeps talking to K. L has now realised K is going through a reenactment of her trauma - which she had previously done to her doll. He was aware of her PTSD but not of the trauma itself, but as he witnesses her relive it, he can make a pretty good guess at it.

When K finishes the reenactment, she shuts down & looks at the doll. She's out of breath & has cut herself with her nails, but doesn't seem to register any of it. Instead, she looks at the doll & cries because she thinks she ruined it. L redirects her to the kitchen, and puts food in front of her, but K doesn't respond or eat or drink.

[CUT]

When F & S get back, F sees the doll (which has been left behind as accidental evidence) & realises what happened, since he has seen K go through this before, though she hasn't had an episode in ages. He finds L & K out the back, with L trying to get K to make daisy chains because he couldn't think what else to do, though it's more L failing at making the chain & K staring through it. F goes into Dad Mode & deals with K appropriately according to what's worked in the past for her PTSD episodes.

[CUT]

Later that night, K is passed out on the couch with her doll & a Teddy & a blanket, since she didn't want to leave F's side all evening & fell asleep after dinner & F didn't want to risk waking her up by trying to carry her up to her room. L & F are in the kitchen, & L asks about the episode. F goes on to tell L about K's trauma.

Again, this one seemed to rely too much on K agreeing to stay home with L, though it seemed like a better option as it included L witnessing her initial trigger (the theme tune of the cartoon, which had been playing in the background when she had experienced the trauma initially), her unconcious response (reenact it on the doll), L's redirection attempt (touch her shoulder), & K's conscious response (reenact the trauma on herself / re-experience the trauma as if it was the initial event).

But it still feels quite forced, even though I think it's closer to a realistic trauma response (if it was a car crash, for example, and there was 1 song playing on the radio when the impact happened, K screamed as the car rolled & was awake but trapped in the backseat while her parents died in front of her - then her trauma response would be triggered by hearing the song again, which would result in her randomly screaming for her parents & trying to struggle against a non-existent seatbelt.) That was my logic for trying to figure out how she would need the triggering stimuli (theme tune) to make the trauma response start. I feel like this part was missing in the first version of the scene.

Additional information:

K is trusted to go out by herself, is often left unsupervised & is trusted to go over to her friends' by herself & return by herself

Her friends are rarely (if ever) supervised when they play outside & she is trusted to be with them & not get harmed or in danger or in trouble

My questions are:

She was hostile towards L upon first meeting him, & continued to be so for their next few interactions, especially when he accidentally offended her by being (unknowingly) insensitive towards F in front of her. F admonished her for it & they struck a deal, where K tolerates L without being openly hostile towards him, but doesn't have to pretend to like him

None of the characters have access to a phone for the duration of this scene, so L can't just phone F & ask wtf to do

Her trauma is NOT CSA

Do 11 year old girls even play with toys / dolls? This part of the scene came in when I had her written as 8 - I increased her age to 11 for the sake of how much freedom she is granted outside of the house, but I'm not sure what the new, age appropriate things would be for her to be doing when she begins to reenact / re-experience the trauma.

How do trauma responses in children work? Or how do PTSD episodes manifest / appear in children?

What should L be doing here? He has 0 experience with children of any age, and has only coaxed his own peers through anxiety / panic attacks in the past

How would K be behaving during a flashback? Would she be attacking herself, or L, or both? How should L be responding to each of these behaviours?

In contrast, what should F do when he returns? He is experienced in her episodes & is aware of her trauma & has gotten her through this before & she trusts him. How would his response differ from L's?

How would F feel when he comes back & sees he missed K's first episode in ages? And how would he feel about the fact he had left L responsible for K during that episode?

Please either comment on this post / in the tags, or DM me.

#selkie #human stuff #selkie writes #hl #my wriitng #my writing #writing #books #my books #wip #my wip #current wip

4 notes · View notes

all-soul-crossover-comic · 1 year

Text

READY FOR SOME OLD ALL SOUL???? I dont have that many images this time...(Small note at the very bottom)

Images retrieved from my Zepeto account (which I still actively use).

Say hello to thick outline glowy eyed sonic with pale yellow skin.

You know my current designs? And how they're, yk....normal? Well when I was 12, I decided that normality is for peasants. And also refining my lines. And also proper anatomy. And stylistic consistency. Pretty much everything?

I might reuse Barbie's fit. It's extra. like her. And also based on doll clothes I actually have.

Fun fact about Zepeto! They're terrible with gradient/unerased not at full opacity things on PNGs!

This is magical girl snufkin. The original transformation I tried to do. Wasn't into winx yet lol. I was, however into sailor moon. This image was traced from a sailor moon chibi artwork. I like the proportions on those artworks. They have a slightly squished normal body and only a slightly large head. I remember first seeing these types of proportions in a "how to draw chibis" book I got from hobby lobby, let my friend borrow, then never saw again.

This transformation was based on the failed sailor moon localization named "Team Angel" which I actually tried to revive around this time. I actually got a comment on one of my recent YouTube videos, someone asked if I was still trying to remake it. I thought nobody actually remembered, or even cared. That was why I stopped in the first place. Crazy, huh? Well anyway, I think I'm gonna start it up again. Before someone else beats me to it.

In 2023 all soul, Snufkin wouldn't use this word. Sonic would.

Quote below taken from the movie "Gold Diggers of 1933". I don't think anyone nowadays says the word "heifer" enough for this type of Freudian slip to ever work.

Me looking at my cringy old artwork that I used to think was the most clever shit in the universe:

Note:

I don't have the original PNGs of these images. While I remember posting these to Amino, I'm not going back to that app, Ive had too many bad experiences. Experiences that I dont want to have again, even if they ARE 3 years later. All these are screenshots from my Zepeto account, which I've had since 2020. I still have the phone I made these on, but it's a bitch to get running. I was actually my DAD'S old phone, which he gave to me when he got a new one. That bastard.

#crossover #fan comic #moomin #snufkin #barbie #barbie doll #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #hatsune miku #vocaloid #all soul crossover comic #sailor moon #team angel #zepeto

3 notes · View notes

new-eyes-extra-colors · 1 year

Note

oc asks: relationships edition: For Good, For Bad, Family, Social Circle, and Meet Strange

[oc asks relationship edition]

Social circle answered here!

For Good: Is there anyone in your OC’s life who had an undeniable positive impact on who they are as a person? How did knowing this person improve your OC’s life?

Meeting her husband Dana was the start of an overall upswing in her life. They met when Nora was waitressing to get through college; Dana was also in college and frequently studied at the diner she worked at. They didn't hit it off immediately (Nora doesn't hit it off immediately with anyone), but after a few semesters she agreed to spend some time getting to know him outside of the customer/server dynamic.

One important thing to Nora was that even when Dana didn't or couldn't understand where she was coming from or why she felt the way she did, he always tried to be supportive--not by just agreeing with her on everything of course, but by reminding her to be mindful and talking through her feelings with her. He treated her like a person during a very difficult time in her life when she didn't have a support network.

Obviously Nick also has a positive impact on her life, but that gets broken down in the fic I'm writing so I won't rehash it here.

For Bad: Is there anyone who had an undeniable negative impact on your OC’s life? How did your OC deal with that change? Have they been able to move on?

Shaun/Father, poorly, and god no. Uh... spoilers. I will say that relationship and its fallout (heheh pun) is one of the big reasons I'm writing this fic in the first place.

Family: What’s your OC’s family like? Is it a family of blood, choice, or something else? How does your OC feel about their blood relations? If they have a family of choice, how did they come together?

Her blood relations were not always great--there's Shaun/Father of course, and her relationship with her mother was skewed toward young Nora being the caretaker instead of getting to be a child, and her relationship with her youngest sister soured after their middle sister's death. She did have a good relationship with her grandmother, but she lived nearly halfway across the country, so Nora didn't get to spend much time with her.

Nora's current family is very much one of choice. Obviously the fic gets into specifics of how they came together, but I will say her closest relationships are Nick, Ellie, Piper, and Nat, and then later Deacon, Glory, Danse, X6, and Preston. DiMA gets in there too after a few years.

Meet Strange: What’s the most memorable way your OC has ever met a new person? Was it a good experience? Bad experience? Just plain weird? How’s their relationship with that person now?

Somewhat fittingly her weirdest meeting (for now) was with Deacon. A day after she's shot for the first time she's doing laundry at Bunker Hill and he approaches her in a moment she's alone and just. Sits down and starts talking to her, and then starts helping her with her laundry. It's weird in that he's a complete stranger (to her; he's obviously comfortable with her at this point).

Then Nick comes back from doing what he was doing and he doesn't say "Is this guy bothering you, doll?" but that's the energy the scene has. And then he realizes Deacon looks familiar and Deacon is like "Okay byeee nice to meet you :)" and skates.

It's weird enough that both Nora and Nick recognize him immediately the next time they see him. Obviously as Nora joins the Railroad and works alongside him, her relationship with Deacon winds up fine. Sibling-like, even.

I haven't quite nailed down how she meets Mac, Cait, and Strong, since they're secondary characters in this fic, but I will almost certainly be changing it from canon, so those meetings may wind up stranger in the end.

#autumn.oc #oc: nora navarre #thank you for the ask!! sorry it got stuck in drafts hell for a minute #also sorry for the spoilers... i'm normally happy to talk spoilers but there are a few things i want to keep under wraps #until they get posted. because i think they hit harder that way. and are the thesis or whatever of the fic #the best thing about having a nick/nora relationship and keeping kid shaun around is that dima becomes someone's weird uncle

2 notes · View notes

kiridarling · 4 years

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.

→ Okay. Izuku Midoriya? A sadist.

→ And you've been a brat all day, because he's been busy fighting crime as a newly debuted pro hero, and you can't help it if Izuku's new suit fits him a little too well.

→ And of course, the one day he finally has time to take you on a date you two go to the mall, only to be swarmed with thousands of Pro Hero Deku fans buzzing with requests for photo's and autographs and other bullshit and you just want to clobber them in the head and spit the ugly truth in their faces—that at the end of the day, their lovely Deku comes home to you, and sleeps next to you, and the fact that they can steal his attention away from you is absolutely outrageous. Blasphemy.

→ So naturally, you start acting up. You roll your eyes at the next fan who asks you to take the picture and you scoff at the next fan that announces their love. You pile them on, offense after offense, and by the time you get into the car, Izuku's practically vibrating with anger.

"Say one word and I'm bending you over the hood."

→ Oh.

→ Needless to say, you're squirming the whole ride; though you're unsure if it's from his words, the dead silence, or the tight grip Izuku has on your thigh but either way, the trip back home feels painfully long.

→ The second you two get through the door, he's cornering you into the living room and bending you over the arm of the couch without a second thought, big hands yanking your hips back so your ass sticks out just the way he likes it.

"Bratty doll...you wanted my attention that bad, huh?”

→ Izuku exaggerates every other word with a harsh spank that has you whimpering behind a bitten lip. Though eventually, he deems your muffled moans not enough and aggressively yanks your bottoms off, stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

→ Once they're wet enough, he slides a finger in, (because no matter how angry he is, you’re still his baby). But once you're ready? It's game over.

→ You figured Izuku was going to be a tease about it, but once he sits you on his cock and doesn't move, it has you squirming in confusion. What the hell could he be waiting for?

"Awe, what's the matter, doll? Did you want me to move?"

→ The hold his hands have on your waist is tight enough that you can't even twitch your hips—and the grip only gets tighter the more you wiggle in protest. Izuku tuts, landing a slap to your bruised ass that makes one thing clear: You’re not moving.

→ The green-haired bastard turns on the tv, for fucks sake. And has the audacity to pretend like he's paying attention to whatever's on—because it's not like you're paying attention, too preoccupied with the cock in your guts. You can't squirm because something tells you that'll only lengthen the punishment you've been sentenced to, but by the end of the first episode, it's a little hard not to.

→ Izuku caves the second you start begging. Mostly because it was what he was waiting for, but also he's probably struggling worse than you while he watches you whimper and squirm in his lap.

“Fine, doll. Since you waited so patiently, I guess I can make you feel good.”

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.

→ 100% your idea

→ And he had absolutely no warning. The Bakusquad decided to hold a movie night in the common room on a random Saturday evening when the dorms were pretty much empty. Katsuki didn't even want to be down there in the first place, but after you winked so prettily and promised he'd get a treat if he came, he didn't grumble nearly as much.

→ But what he didn't know was that you meant right now.

→ Katsuki knew something was up the second you sat in his lap and asked Denki for a blanket—that's rarely your Bakusquad move night cuddle position, plus you're always saying how you never need a blanket because Katsuki runs so warm.

→ And he definitely knew something was up when you started grinding against him, not even ten minutes into whatever shitty action movie Denki and Eijirou convinced the group to watch this time. His hands rush to your hips because if Katsuki Bakugou is anything, he's not a goddamn exhibitionist.

"Oi, the fuck are you doing, dumbass? They're gonna fuckin' see."

→ But as always, you take his words with a grain of salt, already blindly fiddling with the buckle of his belt despite his threats (AKA, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' heathen). The metal clinks for a second and both of you tense, but it seems no one hears it over the movie, so. You relax.

→ Katsuki does not.

→ You wait for a loud crash from the television speakers and you're sinking down on Katsuki's cock, his teeth tearing into your shoulder as he holds back a moan. Both of you let out a shaky breath when you bottom out.

"W-Well? You gonna fuckin' move or what?"

→ You shake your head.

"No? Fuck."

→ And honestly, all is well until about twenty minutes into the movie. At this point, Katsuki's semi-comatose, eyes half-lidded from the surprisingly peaceful warmth you're both encompassed in. But unfortunately, this peace is disturbed by a rude awakening that comes in the form of none other than Denki Kaminari.

→ All he does is mention how Katsuki looks much too out of it, owing it all to "y/n's juicy caboose," but it has your boyfriend practically rearing on his hind legs in fury either way.

→ In the middle of all the commotion, you take the opportunity to wiggle your hips a bit, rendering the majority of Katsuki's arguments repetitive and ineffective. The bickering blond's shut up once Mina calls for it, and Katsuki returns to whisper-yell threats in your ear again.

"Do you want us to get fuckin' caught? Huh? I ca—fuckin' hell—stop movin’!"

→ But you giggle, having a little too much fun with this. The death grip Katsuki has around your thigh implies he’s closer than you thought, and the moment the action in the movie starts to pick up again, so does the steady roll of your hips.

→ Katsuki practically whimpers into your ear, body shaking with restraint because he lacks the proper space to “put you in your place” or however he wants to put it. You know he’s teetering on the edge when he resorts to something Katsuki Bakugou never does—begging.

“Babe—babe c-c’mon please, I don’t wanna—”

→ Katsuki’s nails dig into your thigh and he shivers as he fills you up, bottom teeth digging into his swollen lip. His quiet moans push you off the edge as well, adding to the mess under the blanket as fake explosions emanate from the tv screen.

→ That was...something.

“I hate you so goddamn much.”

→ You snort, rolling your eyes at his overdramatic ass. But?

“...But that was the hottest sex of my fuckin’ life.”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀.

→ You and Hanta definitely do this once a month. At least.

→ Getting high with Hanta as your boyfriend is probably one of your favorite things. He's got snacks, cool LED lights, a monitor that constantly plays animal planet while the speakers play lofi. It's an experience.

→ And of course, you two get horny—though sex is a little hard when you're feeling fuzzy. Hanta's a high-functioning stoner but frankly, you're not, and even he gets a little fumbly when it comes down to it. Cockwarming seemed like the only viable option.

→ Half of the time, it's not even that sexual. Watching otters chase each other with his back pressed up against yours as you bask in a familiar warmth that only comes from true human connection is nice. Feeling his lips place butterfly kisses against the column of your neck is nice. Just...being with Hanta is nice.

→ But tonight? Tonight it's definitely sexual.

"So warm, Princess. You know your body does things to me, don't you?"

→ You didn't, but the way he says it definitely makes you believe him, and so does the way he rubs his hands up and down your sides. Hanta bites into your neck and you stifle a moan, balancing yourself on his knees.

→ You jump when his hand ghosts your inner thigh, and he chuckles when you bite your lip, eyes trained on the hand moving between your legs.

"Like it when I rub you like that, Princess? Like it when I turn you into a messy little puddle in my arms, hmm?"

→ You whine and nod, chest shuddering with the threat of an impending orgasm. Hanta curses behind you, the hand holding you steadily by the waist tightening.

"Shit—keep clenching like that and you might make me cum, Princess."

→ Hanta huffs out a laugh but you can hear the genuine implication behind it, can feel it in the pant of his breath against your neck. The thought of making him cum from something so simple has you hurtling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed, nails digging into his forearm as the weight of your marijuana-laced orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.

→ Hanta moans breathily, eyebrows knitting as his own orgasm catches him by surprise. His hips twitch and it almost sends you flying off his lap but somehow, you don't go tumbling—though you might owe that to the vice grip Hanta has on your hip.

→ You two come down, basking in the gentle blue of the ocean as the chatter from the Australian narrator about the Humpback whales and their baleen teeth fills the room. You move to get up but Hanta whines, hands keeping you still via your waist.

"Lemme stay inside for a bit...'S warm."

[a/n: thanks for stopping by angel, and let me know who you want to see next <3. see you soon!]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 #— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #bnha headcanons #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #deku x reader #deku headcanons #deku smut #sero headcanons #sero x reader #sero smut

1K notes · View notes

karmasuna · 4 years

Note

Todoroki, Deku and Bakugou headcanons for getting hit by a quirk that turns them into a plush doll? They're completely immobile but they can still think, but they're freaking out. they;re being hugged into their crush's chest? They're not turned around when crush changes. They hear their crush talking to themselves and others. Crush kissed their plushed cheeks because they're too shy to do so to the original? Boys do not know what to do

i’m so sorry but i just couldn’t come up with anything for deku :-; so here’s todo and baku i hope that’s okay with you!

todoroki and bakugo || shinso

Todoroki Shoto

○ Todoroki gets turned into a plush doll and just so happened to be in Uraraka’s room

○ and since she wasn’t aware that the plush was the actual boy himself, her first instinct was to take it to you

○ “Look Y/N, someone dropped this cute plush Todoroki by my room! I’ll give him to you so you can have your own Todoroki,” she says, sending you a wink before leaving you alone with it

○ at first you don’t really know what to do with it, wondering if you should hide it in case one of the boys comes in and accidentally discovers your crush

○ but upon closer inspection of the doll you realize that he’s way too cute to just stuff aside in a drawer

○ so you resort to hiding him under your covers whenever someone comes into your room so they don’t suspect anything

○ there’s pros and cons to his new home under your covers. it almost makes him light-headed to be surrounded by your scent, but he’s not exactly sure whether it’s that or the lack of oxygen from being trapped under heavy blankets

○ the fact that he’s literally buried in your chest when you sleep since you hold him so close doesn’t help calm his racing heart at all, and it’s a fact that Todoroki the plushie does not get enough sleep at all

○ but he’ll definitely cherish the experience while he still can

○ and you would have a lot to discuss when the quirk finally wears off and you wake up to the real Todoroki in your arms fast asleep

Bakugo Katsuki

○ Kaminari and Kirishima were there when Bakugo got turned into a plushie, so they obviously knew that the plush Bakugo sitting in their common room was in fact, the actual Bakugo himself

○ what he was not expecting was for his friends to take advantage of his current state. Kaminari maybe, but Kirishima? Bakugo’s very very disappointed

○ the two of them practically shove the doll onto you when you come back to the dorms, telling you to take good care of doll as if he were the real Bakugo ( “unleash all your wildest fantasies onto that thing, Y/N!”)

○ but he’s way too surprised by the fact that you didn’t deny having romantic fantasies about him to start plotting his friends’ murders

○ at first he does try to still give you privacy even though he practically lived on your bed now, looking away when you’re changing and trying not to ogle at how cute you looked in that oversized sweater

○ it’s not easy though, when you keep on kissing him. He’s glad that you can’t see the burning of his cheeks or the way his eyes follow your form around shamelessly after a few days of trying not to, ogling your exposed skin when you’re clad in nothing but oversized clothing in the privacy of your room (or so you thought)

○ at first he feels a little bad about peeping on you like this, but eventually he figures he’ll either pretend it never happened if you don’t find out or blame it on Kaminari

○ but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying all the love and attention you were giving him. It’s like a fever dream for him, and he would’ve never thought in a million years that you possibly liked him back

○ with all the sappy things you keep on telling him while you cuddle him close, he’s come to the conclusion that he probably wouldn’t get rejected if he actually did ask you out, so he sets his mind on asking you out when he’s turned back and can actually talk again

○ and you don’t know what surprises you more when you wake up one morning to a full sized Bakugo in your arms, the fact that he was awake and looked calmer than you’d ever seen him before or the way he also had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist

○ “Why do you look like that, idiot? Don’t act like you haven’t been telling me you wanted this every day for the past week.”

#bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha scenarios #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #mha imagines #mha headcanons #bnha bakugō #bakugou headcanons #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki shoto fluff #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki headcanons #todoroki shouto x reader

8K notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Note

Missing jamesiris content🙈😭

James and Iris 🥺 you know these two are seriously undefeatable. They've been through so much together, and they're still so strong, and better together. When you talk about soul mates, it's without a doubt, these two. Lifelong friends, and grew into so much more. There will never be another James Carter Rogers just like there will never be another Iris Jade Drysdale-Rogers.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

By Our Tree

Summary: Iris and James wedding anniversary trip

Pairings: James X Iris

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, mild sexual content, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.8K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

James Rogers Masterlist

James grabs onto his wife’s hand as he pulls her out onto the dock. She loved being out on the water. Had a bond with it much like she did with her Pops. Iris takes a deep breath, smelling the briny air, and smiles up at her forever love.

The boy she could never get enough of, turned into the man she wanted to experience everything with. “You ready?” James asks, jumping into the new boat. He holds up a hand for her to grab, and assists her in.

“Always ready for you.”

“Don’t I know it,” he cockily responds. His mouth already on her neck, as his nibbles at the sensitive skin. Admiring how her body just responds. Arching into his, and her hands pull at his hips.

He spins her body guiding the both of them to the steering wheel before drawing up the anchor. “Remind me to thank my best friend for letting us have this for a week,” he answers before standing behind her. James places his hands on her dainty ones, and he lets out a sigh of relief when her butt barely rubs over his crotch.

“Save that for later.”

“I thought you would like that, Sarge,” Iris tilts her head back to look up at his handsome face. Using her fingers to trace over the lines in his skin. Noting the happy smile lines around his mouth and eyes.

He keeps his eyes on the water. The sun making his hazel eyes even brighter and more golden than before.

“We’ve had a good life, huh, Baby Doll?”

“The best. Well, once we got there. But I’ll take the bad, as long as it’s with you.”

Without looking at her, James gives a quick kiss to her forehead before she looks back out at the horizon. Nothing but water, and a week of just her and her Jamey.

It was true, Iris believed she could not have done this life without him by her side. And there was no part of her life that James didn’t get to experience with her. He was her constant. The most steady and happiest parts of her life always included him.

She isn’t sure why she got to be so lucky to spend her whole life with her best friend. With the love of her life as he so affectionally called himself. But she didn’t care. She would take whatever curve ball that life threw her, as long as he was in her life.

She quickly shimmies away from him, to set up an easy lunch that they can have on deck, just floating in the water. The boat was immaculate, but sometimes she still missed her Pops’ more modest boat.

James drops the anchor into the water and waits on his pretty little wife to bring up the food, smiling fondly when she sets it down, and his thick hands pulls her onto his lap, while he tickles and kisses her.

Still acting like the kids that they never seemed to grow out of. Stopping only to feed the other strawberries, and he pulls back to look at the ocean, “Iris, you know I love you.”

“Oh, don’t you do that. There’s a but there. Don’t start our week alone with a but.”

Leaning her more over on his lap, so he can smack her ass, he puts her back where she started, “This is the only butt that’s important. And yes, but, I feel we’re selling ourselves short.”

“How so?”

“You’re the best mom. You love our babies,” she cups his cheek, pulling him down to look at her, and she sees his hazel eyes go glossy.

“Jamey,” her voice coos.

“We have the best life that I could imagine. But, I know you wanted a life like your mom’s. We’re almost there.”

“We have a granddaughter. She’s only a year old. We have a grandson that’s five and a half, and he constantly reminds of such.”

James shakes his head out of her grasp, and looks out on the water. “I know there’s more to life than kids. But that’s one of my favorite things about you. You never skip a beat. For this insecure teenager, you are a fierce mother. An even fiercer lawyer. You amaze me.”

Iris moves her attention out to the water, following James’ eye sight as she takes a deep breath in. “What if it’s another girl. What if Poppy or this new girl fall in love with a military man. Which you said would be the bane of your existence. Not wanting them to experience what I did. What then?”

“You know what I learned from Posie?” Iris waits for James to continue his thoughts. Burying her face into his chest, and smelling the familiar peachy scent.

“I learned that we can’t control life. Posie did everything right, until she met Jax. But that’s what was right for me. When she met him, she, finally, did what was right for her. I couldn’t stand him, but that man…ugh, he loves her. He’s good for her and those kids. He gave her strength when she was giving up. And she fought to be back to him and her babies. She never hesitated to step up for Abel. Before even knowing he was Jax’s, she loved that boy. It was like her heart knew he was apart of Jax. She looks past his flaws. And her life has been unpredictable because of him, but she’s happy.”

“She is.”

“And they made a damn cute baby. But, I’ve got the fever,” he changes the tone of his voice, trying to lighten the mood. “And I’m a bit jealous none of the kids are named after my mom.”

“Jamey,” Iris pouts, and he finally turns to look at her. Giving her a hard kiss to her lips. “Six months.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means, I give you six months to get what you want.”

James smiles, only for it to fall quickly. “I want you to want it too.”

“I want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. If you’re happy, I’m happy. For better or worse.”

“For better or worse,” he smiles down at her so big. “Does that mean,” he pushes the two of them onto the floor. His hand already snaking up her leg. “We get to start now?”

“You ready for the six months to start now?”

“This is a free week. It’s our anniversary.”

“Which one again?”

“I’m offended. This is our wedding anniversary, Ris. But this is a freebie. It just is. You know it is.”

Iris grabs onto James bulge through his jeans, and giggles. “I know we better go below deck, because people can see us.”

James lifts up off her body, flipping his hat around, as he smiles looking all around them. “There’s no one here.”

“Jamey, take the hat off.”

“Nope,” he growls onto he, kissing along her sea salty skin. His teeth nipping at her neck, and she’s a combination of giggling and whimpering.

He starts to rip off her shirt, before shakes her head, “Don’t you dare, this is one of my favorites,” before sitting up to remove it herself.

“God, I love you. Like really honestly, love you, but you’re also so fucking hot. You dress like the president of the PTO, and I’m sure nobody would realize how much of a slut you are for James Rogers,” he pulls off his own shirt, before hovering back over her.

Iris’s finger traces over her name on his chest. Since Chris had fixed it, it looked much better, and less faded. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you are a whore. No part of your body I have not discovered,” he leans over her kissing down her body. “I believe I know your body better than I do mine.”

“Jamey,” his goofy self looks back up at her with a smile. That mouth still threatening to continue its descent, giving her belly button a mere whisper of a kiss.

“You realize literally every part of me is yours? We’ve shared it all together. And you’re still my favorite.”

“I’m trying to be sexy, and you’re getting sappy,” he sits up with a huff, pulling her body into his. The two of them looking out onto the water again, but Iris snuggles close to him.

“I’m serious. All of it. I’ve experienced with you.”

“You have never experienced a breakup.”

“Uh, we have,” James shakes his head no, disgusted at even the thought. “Yes, in fourth grade. That stupid girl, Kelli, she was holding your hand. And you thought it was okay.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“I was heartbroken. That hand is mine.”

“Damn right it is. This hand has been all over and up in your shit,” he gives her a hard kiss to her cheek. “Fine, it counts. Just so we can say we experienced it.”

He turns her body to face him. His finger guiding over the lace of her bra, but his eyes on her blue green ones. “You know, I think the universe was telling us we wouldn’t have a long time with Posie.”

“Why would you say that?” he asks with a groan.

“We got twelve years of just her. Twelve years of our beautiful little girl that played the guitar and would sing. She loved to bake, and have tea parties. She would only snuggle with you, when she wanted to. And was the only grandchild on all sides for six years. Twelve amazing years of just us three. And then Thorne, Poppy, and Oakley, and the other six years went by so fast. The universe knew she was going to leave us and make her own family. She makes him happy, too.”

“Yeah, I hate admitting your dad was right. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why he held onto you so tightly. He knew I was going to be in your life forever. I knew he liked me, James, but he hated me, Jamey. You know he helped dad get me?” Iris nods, but she loves hearing James tell her this story.

“If it wasn’t for your dad, I’d been living in London with her. We might not have ever met.”

“We would have,” Iris answers confidently. “You, James Carter Rogers, are my person. But I’m glad my dad was a match maker for us when we were two and three. I don’t want to think of what a basket case I would have been without you.”

“Ris?” she presses her forehead against his, staring at her favorite face. “Marry me, again.”

“You’re needy. First trying to talk me into another baby, and now another wedding.”

“Do it. Marry me again.”

“How about, next year. It’ll be our twentieth wedding anniversary,” he gives her a solid kiss on her lips.

“By our tree.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #da au #da au request #dau #james rogers #iris rogers #james rogers x iris rogers

18 notes · View notes

kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years

Text

Their Doll 7

Helping Hand

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: Bucky helps y/n in more ways than one

Warnings: talk about sex kinda

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Training with the soldier wasn't all bad, really. I mean sure, being knocked on my ass every five minutes when we sparred was hell, but there were other aspects too. HYDRA basically made the soldier train me into being their own personal assassin.

Today, it was knife-throwing. One of the few skill I already had - after all, being left in boredom for a whole year led me to experiment and find something new. I was self taught, not very good, but I knew the basics.

I walked up to the target carefully, eyes wide at I watch the soldier throw a knife that pierced through the handle of a blade that was already embedded in the bullseye. I shook off the shock, focusing on my own target as I walked up to it. Lifting a knife out of the belt I wore, I angled it at the target - keeping my wrist slightly loose - and threw. Fuck. Landed in the third ring out from the bullseye.

Again. I threw, wrist loose, and a similar outcome. As I lined up for a third throw, I felt a hand on my right shoulder, stopping me. I looked up, eyes piercing into the soldier's as his averted from me, to the blade in my hand, to the target.

My breathing became heavy, laboured, as he made his way around me, the soldier positioning himself behind me. His hands ran down my arms, resting either side of my wait - one radiating heat, the other cold and making my flinch slightly when it came into contact with the exposed skin from where my shirt had ridden up slightly. He used this grip to correct my stance, remaining behind me and grabbing my wrists to move them into the right position. His hot breath on the back of my neck was making me unfocused, intoxicated.

"Loosen your wrist." He said lowly, "more. It's all about the flick of your wrist." He explained, waiting for me to be ready. "Good. Now, release on your exhale." He breathed.

I took a deep breath in, letting the small blade loose on my exhale, eyes trained to the flash of silver as it flew through the air. Just to the left of the bullseye.

"Good. Try again." So I did, landing a fraction closer to the black dot in the centre of the target. "Good girl." The soldier remarked, the praise sending an odd tingle through me. I could practically hear his smile as he spoke, but before I could respond, his warmth from my body was gone - the soldier back at his own target one again.

...

I stood in the shower room, back bare and bloody still after I had managed to stagger from the whipping room. I stood with my back to the mirror as I looked over my shoulder, wincing every time the small towel touched any of the wounds.

Today's punishment had been unusually brutal, with the whip cracking down on my back in the same two places for every lashing. As a result, two long gashes spanned widthways diagonally across my upper and lower back, oozing crimson tauntingly as tear stained my already reddened cheeks.

I huffed out a frustrated sigh, turning back around to wash the blood from my once-white towel. Steam clouded the edges of the mirror and I could hear a steady stream of water coming from behind one of the curtains, meaning the the Soldier was probably washing after our training session.

In my efforts to get my towel as close to it's original colour, I was completely oblivious when the stream of water cut out and the stained-white curtain ripped back - the rings making a horrible noise against the metal rail. My eyes slowly drifted up to my own reflection staring back at myself, a grimace forming on my face at the sight.

Harsh, purple and green bruises decorated my right jaw, a small cut split across my left cheekbone and a now-drying cluster of blood was dripping down my forehead and tangling with my sweat-crusted hair. I tentatively reached up with one hand, running my fingers so lightly over the bruise on my cheek you'd barely know I'd touched it if I hadn't been for the whimper that escaped my lips.

A movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, my eyes drifting to the side to see the soldier looking intently at my back in the mirror. I swallowed deeply, dropping the water-clad towel into the sink without looking away from the soldier. I suddenly felt hit, with his eyes burning into me, and tried to make a move to leave. But his hands on my waist stopped me, kept me in place.

"This is how they're punishing you?" The soldiers husked deeply beside my ear, and I nodded meekly. What he did next I didn't expect in a thousand lifetimes, but the soldier reached around me and pulled open the cupboard beside my head before pulling out a role of bandages.

We stood in silence as he dressed my wounds, my eyes never leaving the mirror as I gazed at his focus expression. He looked different to how he did when he fought, calmer, tranquil even. He didn't look like a killing machine, like a lackey of HYDRA, no. He looked more like a vulnerable boy who had been forced into something he didn't want, but with no choice other than to do as he'd been told. Neither of us said a word every time I flinched or let out little yelps and winces of pain, his eyes only drifted to mine in the steamed mirror and only left when I'd give him a small nod, a signal to continue.

When he'd finished he stepped away, using a soft grip on my hips to turn me around. He gave me a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. I returned it, but gasped sharply as he lifted my up and placed me atop the counter beside the sink. He picked up the sodden towel and run it out until it only remained damp and carefully lifted it to my forehead, cautiously and gently rubbing the wound there clean, until only a small cut on my hair line remained.

As his attention shifted to the cut on my cheekbone, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander down his toned torso, over his abs and to his v-line which disappeared beneath the towel he had wrapped around his waist. When my eyes trailed up again, the couldn't help but observe the mess of scars at the base of his metal arm - where it was connected to his shoulder.

"I know it isn't pretty, but at least I have an arm." The soldier remarked, dropping the little towel in his hand back into the sink and looking into my eyes. I quickly averted my gaze from his body, cheeks flushed with the embarrassment of getting caught. He smirked slightly, using one of his fingers to tip my chin upwards so I had no choice but to look in his eyes.

It wasn't a rough, power-asserting position like it was intended to be when the general did it. No, it was soft, endearing and I couldn't get enough of him. The soldier used his metal hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, a shiver finding my when the cold metal came into contact with my skin.

"Thank you." I murmured, eyes flirting between his own and his lips. The soldier's were seemingly doing the same. My overwhelming urge to kiss him was quelled when his lips came into contact with mine, dominating but not hard. His lips were plump, yet chapped - I mean how could you expect any less, it's not like the Winter Soldier was going to think about putting some lip balm on. I sat there, dumbfounded, unmoving. My eyes clenched shut at my hands brushed lightly up his arms before settling on his shoulders.

He pulled away all to soon. His smile seemed more genuine, touching his eyes slightly as his lips curled upwards. I was sure I was grinning like an idiot, but I couldn't find it in myself to care as my eyes because mesmerised with his own, now blown wider with lust so only a small ring of cerulean blue rimmed his pupils. That was not the only evidence of his arousal though, as I could feel the other give away poking at my thigh. The towel around his waist did nothing to hide it, and my eyes widened slightly when I registered how big it must be.

Sensing this, the soldier's smirk grew, and he leant in slowly to capture my lips in one last, gentle kiss, before he was retreating from the room. The sound of the metal door swinging shut made me snap out of my hazy daydream trance and come back to reality, the pain throbbing from my back now in full focus as I hopped down from the counter with a groan.

246 notes · View notes

demigodsanswer · 5 years

Note

Headcanon of Clarisse and Silena figuring they're pregnant at the same time?

“Charlie and I are thinking about having another baby,” Silena said.

Clarisse looked away from Hunter, her two-year-old who was busy playing a game called “hit his sister’s dolls and action figures with toy cars.” It wasn’t the best solution to the trolly problem that Clarisse had ever seen, but she was just happy that her son was philosophically engaged at his age.

“That’s exciting. When do you think you’ll start trying?”

“Soon, probably, we don’t want too big of an age gab between Danny and the baby,” her first and only kid so far was going to be five that April.

“Makes sense. But you might want to wait a few months. If you got pregnant now you’d be in your last few months all summer.” Clarisse pointed out.

Silena nodded, “The kid would also probably be a Virgo, which I just don’t think I could handle,”

Clarisse shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Silena continued, “I would love them, but I would be worried about them.”

“You wouldn’t be worried about them if you accepted that the zodiac isn’t real,” Clarisse said.

Silena wanted to push back and point out that Clarisse’s daughter was already showing clear Gemini traits, but she figured that argument would mean nothing to her.

“Anyway,” Silena said, “have you guys thought about having another kid?”

Clarisse shrugged, “We’ve talked about it. We might want a third, but we’d probably want to wait a little longer. At least until he’s fully potty trained,” Clarisse said, gesturing towards Hunter. “Why?”

“I was just thinking that it’d be really fun if we were pregnant at the same time,” Clarisse laughed. “I’m serious,” Silena protested, “and we both get pregnant so easily,” Silena unconsciously gestured towards Hunter, who she knew had not been planned (”Hey,” Clarisse interrupted, swatting her hand down), “that if we both started trying at the same time, we would probably be pregnant at the same time,”

Clarisse rolled her eyes, “There are a lot of dumb reasons to have babies, but a pregnancy pact with your best friend has gotta be up there,”

“Alright, fine,” SIlena said, leaning back on the couch, “no pregnancy pact.” She decided to change the subject to Hunter’s apparent love for quietly smashing toys together

“What do you think about having a third baby?” Clarisse asked, getting out of the bed to put pajamas on.

Chris sat up, “I think that if you want one, using a condom just now was a huge waste of time,”

“Shut up,” Clarisse said, although it was muffled by the tee shirt she pulled over her head. “I’m serious,” she said, getting back into bed. “Do you still want a third?”

Her put his arm around her and pulled the covers up. “Yeah, I do. What about you? Still on the fence?”

“I don’t know. Silena and Beckendorf are going to start trying again, so it just got me thinking, I guess,” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be pregnant again. She loved her children and wouldn’t mind a third, but Katherine’s pregnancy left her sick all the time, and Hunter was a big baby who liked to kick her awake in the middle of the night.

“Well, we don’t have to decide anything right now,”

Clarisse nodded, “Yeah ...” she trailed off. “I’m sure once Hunter is a little older I’m going to miss not having a baby around,”

“Oh, I already miss not having a baby around,”

She nudged his leg with her knee, just hard enough for him to register its malicious intent. “Easy for you to say, you don’t have to grow them,”

He laughed, “They’re a person, not a plant,”

“Whatever. Still, it’s not fair that you only have to contribute for ten seconds doing the one thing you think about all the time, and I have the throw up for nine months,”

“You should have married a seahorse,” Chris said.

She rolled over to try and fall asleep, turning off the lamp on their bedside table, ignoring his seahorse comment.

When Danny went to bed, Silena and Charlie stayed up for an hour talking about their next baby, looking at old photos of Danny, and thinking about their future with two kids instead of just one.

By midnight, Silena had thrown all of her concerns about being pregnant in the summer or having a virgo baby out the window. Charlie rolled over and pulled her in close as she caught her breath and tried to fix her hair (with little success).

After a few moments of closeness and deep breath, Silena ran her hand up his arm and whispered, “Wanna try a third time? For good luck?” All good things came in threes in Ancient Greece.

Six weeks later, the four of them were having a quiet, kid-free celebration in honor of Silena and Beckendorf’s new baby. The sonogram had confirmed it that day, and the two couldn’t look happier.

“There’s still time,” Silena said to Clarisse, “if you want to be pregnant at the same time as me.”

Clarisse just sipped her wine, “No, I think I’ll enjoy my summer and my non-Virgo children,”

On December 23rd, two weeks after SIlena and Charlie announced their pregnancy, Clarisse woke up nauseous. She didn’t feel sick otherwise, there was no fever or anything. She couldn’t remember eating anything weird. Her high school was already on Christmas break, so she wasn’t overtired. Maybe she was --

Her train of thought was interrupted by her own gut. She moved quickly out of bed, waking up Chris in the process, before running into their en suite bathroom to throw up last night’s dinner.

“Shit,” she heard Chris say as he got out of bed to hold her hair.

She threw up a few more times, before sitting back and taking a deep breath; her throat and stomach were sore. Chris stuck their thermometer in her ear, but it beeped back with 98.6.

“Shit,” Chris said. They exchanged knowing looks. “Do you think you’re ...?”

Clarisse nodded, “And if I’m throwing up like this, it’s probably a girl,”

Chris put an arm around her, “We don’t have to have it. If you’re not ready to be pregnant again, we don’t have too --”

“Chris,” she cut him off, “let’s take a test first and make sure it’s not just food poisoning. But if I am pregnant again ... we make some pretty good kids,”

“Yeah we do,” he kissed the top of her head, “plus, this way, Silena gets her wish,”

“Oh she’s going to be so happy,”

Four pregnancy tests later, they could be sure that Clarisse was pregnant.

Clarisse knocked on SIlena’s door. When she answered, Clarisse pushed past her into the apartment, not showing her the pregnancy test first. “You know, either the fates have a sense of humor or there’s some love magic at work here. Looks like your dream came true”

Silena smiled, “Are we finally running away together?” She asked.

Clarisse laughed, “Nope, your other dream,” She took the pregnancy test out of her back pocket.

Silena’s eyes went wide. “Clarisse la Rue, if this is a joke, I swear to god --”

“Nope, not a joke. There are three more in my bathroom right now. All positive,”

Silena threw her arms around Clarisse to hug her tight. “This is so exciting! Oh! And guess what!”

“What?”

“I threw up this morning!” Silena said it like it was the most miraculous experience she’d ever had.

“So?”

“Do you think that means it’s a girl? I mean, you were sick all the time with Katherine,”

“Maybe, but don’t take that as hard science,”

“Do you think yours is a boy or a girl?” Silena asked.

“Girl. I also threw up this morning,”

“What if they’re both girls, and they grow up to become best friends, and then they fall in love? How cute would that be,”

“Adorable,” Clarisse admitted, “But I’m still not sure you didn’t use love magic to get me pregnant,”

Silena shook her head, “Nope, no love magic here, just yours and Chris’s sheer bad luck,”

~*~*~*~

((I didn’t know how to end this so i just decided to stop typing))

#novemberwasgrey #clarisee la rue #silena beauregard #chris rodriguez #charlie beckendorf

28 notes · View notes

slashed-dreamzzz · 7 years

Note

First, I'd like to say that I already love this blog! Second, how do you think the slashers would react to finding out that someone is forcibly trying to drag their s/o with them? Like, they think they're lost or in danger so they drag them with them. (Stay awesome!

The short answer is, they’re fucking pissed

Jason

-Jason couldn’t help but feel immensely worried for you every time a new batch of counselors came to the camp, the unknowing lambs lining up for slaughter. He always insisted that you take refuge in his own cabin while he was on a killing spree, and under no circumstances were you to venture outside and possibly be seen by a runaway victim. The last thing you wanted was for Jason to worry for no reason about you, so you agreed to obey the one and only request he ever made of you. There was only one time when you broke this sacred rule. One unbearably hot night, Jason had left to complete his grocery list of kills, and that left you all alone in a cabin with no AC. You guiltily gazed at the lake out in the distance, the prospect of any sort of relief from the heat too tempting to resist, and decided to go for a quick dip before Jason realized you had gone. Giddily running out to Crystal Lake, you stopped when the water reached your knees, basking in the coolness long desired after the sweltering day you had been through. Suddenly there was a splashing behind you, the person gasping for air. Before you could even turn around their hand had gripped your upper arms and was dragging you out of the lake. You were grunting at this intruder, trying to rip your arms out of their grasp but they only held on tighter. “Be quiet! There’s a fucking psycho on the loose, I’m getting us outta here!” You bristled at their words. That “fucking psycho” was your significant other, and you did not appreciate such slander against your precious Jason. Struggling even harder did naught, and you were forcibly dragged out of the lake as panic flooded your mind. Gathering your breath, you screamed for Jason as you were pulled further and further away, praying he would hear your plea. You dug your feet in the ground to prevent any more movement, but the intruder only yanked you along, shouting obscenities at your refusal to cooperate. Their grip on your arm was beginning to burn, and you let out a sob at the prospect of being whisked away by this stranger who refused to listen to you. All of a sudden you saw movement in the corner of your teary vision, and then before you could process anything the stranger was ripped away from your arm, and you looked up at the visage of your behemoth, looking absolutely furious by the way he held the intruder by their neck. Jason glanced back at you to make sure you were alright, but when he saw how you were crying because of this low-life scum, that did it. Jason tossed them to the ground and lifted his machete high in the air. You noticed how the moon glinted off the sharp blade before it was plunged into the intruder’s chest. Over and over again. You turned away from the gruesome sight, still shaking from the sobs that wracked your body. When the squelching noises finally ceased, you heard Jason’s slow footsteps coming closer, and felt his arms wrap around your frame from behind and pull you into his chest, the strong scent of iron nearly making you gag. You leaned back into him, and could only mutter a soft apology as a tear ran down your cheek.

Freddy

-You were well aware of what Freddy did in his spare time when he wasn’t with you, despite never seeing it in person. As much as the idea was supposed to be despicable, you pushed any guilty thoughts back into the dark recesses of your mind. Most nights were spent with just you and him, any and all indications of the horrible deeds he’s committed forgotten as you were taken in by his snarky words and dark humor that never failed to make you laugh. Unfortunately, this false sense of contentment was never meant to last. You were preparing for bed one night, wondering if tonight you would be able to enter the dream realm after some time of having just regular dreams. Settling under your covers, you closed your eyes and smiled slightly in anticipation of seeing your charming Freddy. After what seemed like seconds later, you were delighted to have woken up in the familiar boiler room, the red glow almost as welcoming as….Where was Freddy anyway? He was nowhere to be seen, and it was odd because he was always right there, waiting for you to wake up in the dream realm. You gave a slight frown, and began to realize that something felt…off. Normally all one could hear was that of the boilers, but this time you heard the distinct sound of rapid footsteps, coupled with a labored breathing. And it was getting closer. You braced yourself for whatever would come around the corner, and was confused to find another person come barreling towards you. You stood there, trying to make sense of this unexpected encounter when they skid to a stop a couple feet in front of you, their chest heaving with exertion. “What’s…going on here?” you started slowly, carefully approaching the exhausted runner. They gasped for breath before replying. “There’s…a fucking…killer…been chasing me ever since I fell asleep…” Your blood ran cold. This was one of Freddy’s soon-to-be victims. Merely knowing that he killed was one thing. But coming face to face with a real person being hunted, seeing the terrified look in their eyes and the tremble in their voice…It made you feel indescribable amounts of regret for your apathy. The runner’s voice broke you out of your trance, and they grabbed both your upper arms. “Listen…We can get outta here together if we somehow manage to wake ourselves up before…He gets us.” They held out their hand for you to take, a hopeful look replacing the hunted one they wore not moments before, a beacon of light beginning to shine in their eyes. Swallowing, you slowly reached out your own hand, but before you could take it a pair of claws exploded out from their chest, their mouth open in a silent scream. You pulled away and let out a shout of anguish as blood spurted onto you and the floor. Their body slumped forward to reveal your Freddy, cackling madly as he tossed their body to the side like a doll. “Thanks for distracting him, dollface. I might have even let him go, but that fucker was going to try and take you away, wasn’t he?” Freddy came and lifted his ungloved hand to cup your cheek, wiping away a stray spot of blood. “I can’t ever allow something like that to happen to you.” He murmured lowly. You felt your throat constrict, but leaned into his touch as he continued to coo sweet nothings, unaware of the storm roiling inside your soul.

Michael

-Living in the Myers house wasn’t the most pleasant experience in the world. After years of abandonment, everything was cracked, chipped, pealing, and faded to a shell of its former cozy and home-like self. The dirty windows were incredibly drafty in the winter, what was left of the curtains were moth-bitten scraps, and the rotten floorboards were just a hair away from crumbling under one’s feet if they didn’t tread carefully enough.Yet despite all of this, Michael still insisted on keeping residence in his former home. Time and time again you tried in vain to convince him to leave, but in the end you realized that this was probably the best option for Michael to hide out from prying police. So because of this, you spent time more often than not in the decrepit house, slowly working to transform it into something more habitable for your Michael. Ah, the things you do for love. One day you had been scrubbing down the kitchen floor, trying your best to get rid of those long lasting stains. You weren’t sure where Michael had decided to run off to, but you figured he was close enough since he didn’t tend to wander very far anyway. Dumping a sponge back into the bucket full of soapy water, you wrung it out slightly and began your efforts to clean once again, your knuckles coated in suds. A piece of hair fell in front of your eyes, and you gave a huff, trying to blow it out of the way. After a couple more minutes of futile scrubbing (damn these stupid checkered tiles), you heard the front door open and close carefully. Oh, Michael was home. You could have him try and help clean for once. Knees creaking, you slowly got up and winced, having been kneeling on the hard ground for too long. You wiped your hands on your pants, not caring since you looked like crap anyway from cleaning for more than a few hours now. “Michael, wanna come in here and-” you started to say, but stopped when you saw a random person instead. You froze, the rest of your sentence lost on the tip of your tongue. The intruder seemed just as surprised as you were, stopping dead in their tracks. ‘Wow, I honestly didn’t think anyone would be in here of all places…” The stranger muttered, looking up and down your form. You clenched your fists, angry that some rando had the gall to intrude upon yours and Michael’s space without a second thought. Sure it looked abandoned on the outside, but weren’t people not supposed to enter anyway? At least you had Michael’s permission to come and go as you pleased. This person, however, did most certainly not. “You need to leave. Now.” That was all you could manage to spit out without completely losing your cool, your words clipped and rough. The stranger just looked at you funny, and then widened their eyes. “Don’t tell me….You’re being held hostage by Michael fucking Myers?! Look, don’t worry, I’m gonna get you outta here and then we’re calling the police.” Your blood froze. No, calling the police would be a very bad, bad idea. Before you could react, the person had grabbed your wrist and was pulling you towards the front door, completely oblivious to your growls of protest. “Leave me the fuck alone, I’m not a damn hostage-!” The guy just ignored you, looking at you with a pitying expression instead. Unable to wrench free, you did the only thing you could. You screamed for Michael at the top of your lungs. By this time you and the stranger were outside on the porch, headed towards the street. Stumbling down the porch steps, you were just about to give up all hope when, all of a sudden, Michael stepped out from a neighboring hedge and blocked the pathway to the road. The intruder stopped dead in his tracks while you gave an audible sigh of relief. Michael looked between you and the intruder, and paused when he saw the visible anguish twisting your features. How dare this filth touch you, and by the looks of it, steal his precious other half away from him? His grip on the knife tightened, and he took only a few long strides to grab onto the stranger and roughly yank him off you, tossing him against the house in a loud thud. You stumbled back, rubbing your wrist gently as you watched Michael approach the trembling stranger, raising his knife above his head before bringing it down into his head. Blood began to drip in copious amounts down his face, and he slumped back against the house, well and truly dead. You ran to Michael’s side and hugged him fiercely, never having remembered a time when you were more grateful for any other person. Michael was still, but raised a bloody hand and stroked your hair softly, glaring down at the dead body and vowing the same fate on any others foolish enough to invade his terf again.

Leatherface

-Despite what most people complained about, you were enraptured with the bare Texan landscape that had become your new home. No one for miles, acres of land as far as the eyes could see, and the big blue sky overseeing it all like a picturesque postcard. Not to mention the beautiful nighttime scenery with a multitude of stars visible, minuscule jewels lining the velvet of night. You always pleaded for Bubba to go on long walks with you to take in the scenery, and also because you loved spending as much as you could with your chubby butcher. Bubba was happy to make you happy, so he usually agreed to your request to take a walk around the Sawyer property. Your favorite time of day to do so was just as the sun was setting, the colors bleeding into one another to create a watercolor of warm hues surrounding the red sun. It was a sight you never wanted to miss. Unfortunately, when you asked Bubba to accompany you, he gave a sad grunt, shaking his head and motioning towards the basement. Ah, he probably had some last minute meat to cut and package. You gave him a sweet smile as he hung his head as an apology, putting a hand on his chest. “Aw, don’t worry about it honey. I won’t be too long, okay?” You pecked him where his lips would be, and giving a little wave headed out the door in the late summer haze. You took a deep breath, and exhaled. Fresh air was always welcome after spending almost all day in the Sawyer house that, no matter how much you cleaned, held a slight stench of rust. The fields stretched for miles, seemingly going on forever and only ending at the sunset. Walking down the porch steps, you began your atmospheric trek. Eventually, you found yourself quite near the road, having wandered a bit farther than usual. A car was passing by, its headlights nearly blinding you, and to your surprise it came to a slow stop, the man leaning out the window and asking if you were lost. You smiled and replied in the negative, saying that it was late and you should be getting home soon anyway. The man, however, insisted that he show you back and get you there safe before darkness completely enveloped the sky. Your stomach began to twist into knots, knowing the fate that awaited the man should be go back with you. Backing away quickly, you shouted an apology and began walking swiftly towards the way you came, back to the house. You managed to return before nighttime, panting and sweating just a bit from the heat. There didn’t seem to be anyone else home, so instead of looking for them you headed to the bathroom to wash up and scrub the dust and sweat from your face. Not too long later, you distinctly heard the scream of a man come from outside the house. You flinched. That must be Bubba doing his job. A shout of anger, the sounds of scuffling before a chainsaw revving caught your attention, and the front door burst open.You jumped, only to recognize the face of the man who had stopped for you not an hour ago. He must have remembered you as well, because he grabbed your hand, panting that he’d get the two of you out of here. “Did he kidnap you too? I was stopped by this hitchhiker, and the rest just went to shit...” You gently tried to pry him off you, tugging away from the door and warning him to let go. He didn’t act like he heard you, and kept going to and out the front door. Bubba was waiting with his chainsaw raised, but when he saw you in the grasp of this man, he went berserk. The guy slammed the door shut and raced towards the back of the house with you in tow. The sound of a door splintering was heard behind you, and Bubba’s howls of anger rang in your ears. Your heart broke, and with a final, harsh yank. you ripped away from the man and ran back towards Bubba. Getting behind Bubba, you fearfully watched as the guy came back to retrieve you, and before he could utter another words Bubba ran his chainsaw right through his abdomen, lifting it up and up to split him from the waist in half. Blood drenched the floor and rug, and the body parts fell with a disgusting splotch. Bubba’s chest was heaving, saw dripping crimson tears onto his shoes. You backed away and slid down a wall, body trembling uncontrollably as sobs came unbidden. Bubba dropped his saw and kneeled down to comfort your shaking form, muttering incoherent words meant to ease your shock and hugging you tightly against his large chest. You gripped onto his dirty shirt and let out a choked sob, wanting nothing more than to go back to the peaceful Texan landscape, and wander forever to forget the twisted reality you refused to acknowledge.

#jason vorhees #friday the 13th #freddy krueger #a nightmare on elm street #michael myers #halloween #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre #slasher imagines #my writing

305 notes · View notes

plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

Text

Resident Evil 8: Village review (spoilers everywhere!)

Now, I want to start off by saying I've never been very interested in the "Resident Evil" games. I've always preferred the "Silent Hill" series because of how macabre the games are, the creepy symbolism behind the monsters, and the intense moments of fear despite having weapons (well, in most of the games at least). I like dark, twisted stuff, and "Resident Evil" seemed too...action-oriented for me, I guess?

However, I did finally get involved when I saw the trailer for "Resident Evil 7: Biohazard." I was shocked, but pleasantly so. Not only did it feature new characters, new locations, and a new disease, but it was in first person AND looked like a true survival horror game. I know some people may prefer the third-person perspective for RE games as that has always been one of their key characteristics, but I think horror games are much more effective in first person. They're more immersive because they give you the illusion of being in the game itself.

I really loved RE7, and still do. I actually have begun playing it again, the first time in a few years (I think 2019 was the last time I played through the game). I still see it as my favorite RE games and one of my favorite survival horror games, but I have enjoyed the "Resident Evil 2" and "Resident Evil 3" remakes and may play other games in the franchise just because.

Now, onto "Resident Evil 8: Village," a direct sequel to 7 (lol 8 does come after 7 but I mean that 8 is a continuation of the story introduced in 7. I mean, RE7 was not a sequel to RE6 at all). I was excited to see the franchise continuing with what it started in RE7, and while I did enjoy RE8, it does have some issues...nothing serious but things that prevent it from replacing RE7 as my favorite.

The Good:

There Four Lords and Mother Miranda were truly unique characters despite being bosses. I felt pity for all of them in one way or another and enjoyed learning their backstories. I think they are the most interesting and "human" villains in the RE games so far (at least, from what I've seen), and in games in general.

I felt so much pity for Moreau, though. He was such a tragic character, and I felt like I was putting him out of his misery by killing him. Clearly, there was something wrong with him mentally like his mental growth had been stunted and he thought and acted more like a child. His primary goals were to win the praise of the other three Lords since they didn't like him (I think Donna may have been ok with him but her mental health issues prevented her from expressing her feelings in a more effective and healthy manner) and to have Mother Miranda see him as her son. All these emotions over one character, a boss enemy, and possibly the least complex of the Lords and Miranda herself, I think demonstrate some fantastic writing. I mean, I've very rarely encountered bosses that I felt sorry for, and killing them was mercy.

Donna was a very strange character. She was the only one of the bosses who didn't transform into a monstrosity, and her boss fight was vastly different from anything else in the game. I liked it, though, for the most part, this sort of "calm" within a storm of deadly monsters and bloody battles. Of all the Lords and Mother Miranda herself, Donna was almost just there, like she was observing instead of actually participating. She respected Mother Miranda but, unlike the other three Lords, she seemed to prefer to live in her own little fantasy world with her dolls as her family and friends.

The graphics were, as expected, incredible. If you have a computer that can handle the game with high/max settings, it will look absolutely stunning. Also, the soundtrack was very fitting, but I don't have much concern for this trait unless the soundtrack is truly exceptional, which is rare -- or if the soundtrack is awful, which I have yet to encounter in a game.

I enjoyed the change in environment from RE7. I liked the creepy house in the woods and "ghost ship" in RE7, but RE8 had us in underground tunnels, a rundown village, a castle, a factory, a swamp town...I mean, you went all over the place, but it made the experience diverse and entertaining.

RE8 gave us a lot of answers to questions left by RE7, and, in some ways, enhanced that game's story. Finding out the truth behind Ethan's seemingly indestructible body was a twist I didn't expect. It did provide an answer for just how easy it was for him to literally patch himself up and put himself back together over and over again. It was no longer just "game logic."

Ending Ethan's story made sense. It was clear by the end of RE8 that his character had gone as far as possible, and it was time to switch gears. I'm curious as to how the next game will utilize Rose as a protagonist. She has powerful psychic abilities, unlike her father, and I don't think any other RE protagonist has had such abilities (as far as I know), so that could make for a very interesting gaming experience.

With that being said, I really do hope RE9 continues what was started in RE7 and developed further in RE8. I really do. I think there are plenty of things left to explore, plenty of room for some good twists and turns.

There weren't many puzzles in this game, but I didn't think it was such a bad thing. It was still a lot of fun to play with a reasonable amount of action-oriented challenges. There were so many bosses in this game, minibosses included, yet it never felt overwhelming or underwhelming. I thought the minibosses were fantastic "bridges" to each of the 5 main boss fights.

MAGNUM IS BEST WEAPON. Seriously, what is it with these types of guns and their insane amount of power? I liked the grenade launcher as well, despite how slow it was to reload. The use of flashbangs proved to be much more useful than the grenades themselves, oddly enough. I know they have been in other RE games, but they were much more essential in RE8.

The pacing was perfect. I felt like the game was the appropriate length, not overstaying its welcome nor leaving players underwhelmed by lack of content. I mean, I still wish it were longer but that's only because of how entertaining it is to play. Leaving players wanting more but in a positive sense indicates that the game was planned thoroughly with a lot of attention to detail.

Miranda's and Moreau'sboss fights were the most challenging in the game. Both were endurance battles and required you to move quickly and think fast and basically just survive until they died. Ammo was very important in both boss fights because the right weapons made things much easier but if you didn't have enough ammo for them, well...you're going to have a more intense challenge.

My favorite "location" was the Dimitrescu castle. I like the elegant "antique" aesthetic of old castles and houses/mansions.

Unlike in RE7, RE8 does allow you to upgrade some of your weapons, which makes things easier if just to allow your guns to hold more ammo before needing to reload. You also didn't need to pull out a weapon to open crates. If you "interacted" with one, Ethan automatically used his knife to break it. RE7 made you do it manually which was a little annoying, especially during fights.

RE7 pretty much just had the Bakers and mold monsters as enemies. They all put up a good fight, but RE8 has a much wider range of enemies: wolfmen, zombies, flying zombie bats, werewolves, cyborg monstrosities, witches (well, if you consider the Dimitrescu daughters as witches, and they kind of are), a gross but pitiful fishman, a mentally disturbed doll maker, and an egocentric engineer. Variety added another layer of difficulty and surprise to the game since it wasn't always the same enemy types popping up to get you.

Mixed Thoughts:

Donna's boss fight was unlike any other fight in the game -- or any game, really. It was a morbid hide and seek challenge that was a nice change of pace but I do wish it had been a bit more difficult. I liked the concept, and it suited Donna, but it was the easiest boss fight in the game, almost like it was a miniboss fight instead. Good concept, but weak execution.

RE8 allows you to upgrade weapons, but RE7 doesn't, and while it may sound like RE8 has the upper hand, I disagree. RE7's lack of weapon enhancements/upgrades made the game more difficult because what you saw was what you got, and you had to make do. You didn't have the option to make your weapons hold more ammo or shoot faster or deal more damage.

The Bad:

Most of the boss fights were...rather easy? Minibosses included. The only ones that posed a real threat were Moreau and Miranda. Everyone else was just standard boss fodder, unfortunately. In RE7, I felt that, while there were far fewer boss fights, they all were much more demanding and exciting.

Lady Dimitrescu was such a fun character, and yet, she was only in the game for a short time, and her boss fight was just so-so. With all the marketing surrounding her before the game was released, I expected her to have a much larger role in the game.

They had an opportunity to make Miranda a sympathetic villain seeing as how the loss of her daughter basically drove her to madness. However, the way she was portrayed, I honestly didn't feel any sympathy for her, which was a shame. If she had been portrayed as a more tragic, broken character, then it would have made the final boss fight very emotional since you would feel some guilt killing her knowing what she's been through.

Not very scary. I mean, it's not a terrible thing, but for a game that is part of the survival horror genre, I felt like RE8 focused on the action a little too often. It was an intense experience just not a chilling one. RE7 had so much tension and atmosphere that it truly played out like a survival horror game.

Overall, I do like "Resident Evil 8: Village" and want to play it several more times. It bested "Resident Evil 7: Biohazard" in a few ways, namely with a diversity of enemies and customizable weapons but it fell short in the horror department and mishandled most of its bosses.

Final Grade: B+

For reference:

Resident Evil 7: A

Resident Evil 2 (2019 Remake): A-

Resident Evil 3 (2020 Remake): B-

#resident evil village #re8 #horror game #resident evil #survival horror #lady dimitrescu #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #resident evil 7 #resident evil 8 #re village #queued post

19 notes · View notes