#guys bear with me here this post is like 2 years old

[viscera-doodles]

OH SHIT I realized I never posted this. Ok so I got these headcannons from the Lego Dimensions GLaDOS song where she mentions being friends w/ Batman. But like, I kinda wanted to translate that to where I felt it would fit the Half Life/Portal universe? So I was like, omg what if Bruce was a fictive. Hence the character(s) you see above!

More:

The idea was that Bruce n Co. were born after Earth got taken over by The Combine (bear w/ me here because my knowledge of Half Life lore is shaky at best, I still have yet to finish the first Half Life game too so don’t spoil me <3) and met GLaDOS a couple years after the events of Portal 2. (I kinda headcannon that, by this point, Chell has already found and made friends w/ Alyx n Gordon) Bruce stumbles upon GLaDOS’s place while seeking refuge from the harsh environment after a recent disaster ripped an opening into GLaDOS’s complex that she still had yet to finish fixing. Bruce has met many troubled and “morally-challenged” people over the course of his life, and GLaDOS isn’t much different. GLaDOS is privately happy for the company, and has improved somewhat as a person during her journey of learning how to care for her crow children. But, as you’d expect- she still struggles greatly in the human people department. As they hang out, GLaDOS slowly opens up little by little. I’d imagine at some point, Bruce has a conversation relating to her, about how they both have memories from outside their current state (Bruce, from the Batman character, and GLaDOS from Caroline), while also being their own people independent from those memories’ origins. This helps both Bruce n Co. and GLaDOS feel a little less alone, in that regard. I also like to think that, as GLaDOS reminisces and vagues about Chell, Bruce correctly guesses that GLaDOS had, and still has, feelings for her.

[chlorinecake]

PART 1: GHOST FACE YANDERE imagine

Ｂｌｏｏｄ Ｏｎ Ｉｃｅ | 얼음에 피 - a park sunghoon ff

⚡︎ cw: mentions of suicide, violence, bullying, character deaths, swearing, underage drinking, unprotected sex, bad ending lol, ft. ive’s WONYOUNG and le sserafim’s KAZUHA

⚡︎ summary: sunghoon seeks revenge against the girls that bullied his little sister in high school, leading up to her tragic suicide

⚡︎ wc: 8.3k ~ read part 2 here!!

three years ago

For Sunghoon Park, death was hardly a foreign concept. He committed his first murder around the age of eighteen, the victim being a fellow athlete from his ice skating team, Cha Jun-Hwan. The dynamic pair maintained a solid friendship since the day they met, up until Sunghoon’s sixteen-year-old half-sister, Wonyoung, blossomed into a beautiful young lady. She stopped wearing glasses and got her braces removed, but most importantly, she was confident in her own skin. “You’re more beautiful than any princess I’ve ever seen, Wonyo. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise,” Sunghoon would encourage her every day in front of her vanity mirror. “Thank you, Sunghoon-ah! You always know how to cheer me up” she’d smile, patting his head as she left for school.

Eventually, Wonyoung started dating Jun-Hwan behind Sunghoon’s back. Their secret relationship went on for about 3 months before Sunghoon caught them during a half-naked-make-out session in Wonyoung’s bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed as if frozen, wearing black gym shorts and a pink bralette. Jun-Hwan was topless as well, with Wonyoung’s love bites decorating his bare chest. A mix of rage and disgust burned being Sunghoon's eyes. Grabbing a large pillow to cover her exposed figure, Jun-Hwan rambled on, “Sunghoon, I can explain! We meant to tell you sooner, but-“

“Get the fuck out of my house before I kill you,” Sunghoon threatened sharply, before an embarrassed Jun-Hwan ran out the door, leaving the Park siblings to figure things out.

Some time passed, and rumors about Wonyoung ran rampant throughout her high school, most of which being initiated by Jun-Hwan himself. An immeasurable pity birthed within Sunghoon whenever he’d hear the muffled sobs coming from his sister’s bedroom at night as she struggled to get any sleep. He wanted Jun-Hwan to pay for the pain he’d brought upon her.

The plan was simple, really.

Sunghoon made it look like a camping trip gone wrong, killing off four of his teammates including Jun-Hwan in the woods. He made it look like a vicious bear attack, which surprisingly fooled the police, leaving him scot-free.

Sunghoon went on to quit his dreams of becoming an Olympic champion, pursuing the academic route instead.

Though, Wonyoung’s torment was far from over.

A group of mean girls called her names like “piranha pussy” and “semen demon” after Jun-Hwan’s death, claiming that she supernaturally killed him during intimacy. Suffering from constant scrutiny at school and grieving the loss of her first boyfriend, despite all that he'd said about her, Wonyoung was driven to commit the unspeakable, and took her own life. Her body was buried soon after, with posts like “Gone too soon” and “fly high, princess 🕊️🎀” pinned on everyone’s socials, including the mean girls.

After his sister's death, Sunghoon was never the same. His innate will to kill only grew stronger as the years went by. He made a promise to Wonyoung on her funeral, saying that he would someday avenge her no matter how long it'd take him.

➠ three years later, wednesday

“Sunghoon is hosting a party at his place this Friday night. Wanna come?” Your friend Kazuha asked you from her end of the phone. She developed a habit of face timing you whenever she was in the mood for a movie. You were busy scrolling through Netflix catalogs from the comfort of your couch, searching for a descent film.

“Sunghoon Park?” You inquired at the familiar name.

“The sad rich kid whose sister committed suicide after her boyfriend died? Yes, that guy,” she said, struggling to open a jar of pickles.

“Ugh, I could totally use your feminine power muscles right now," she cried, her face contorting as she fought with all her might to release the tight lid.

“That sounds kinda gay, Kaz.”

“Only for you, ____,” she winked playfully before searching her kitchen drawers for a butter knife.

“I mean, are you sure he’s okay with us coming considering how we treated his little sister?” You stopped your scrolling, putting the tv remote down on the coffee table.

“It’s not our fault she couldn’t handle a few jokes.” Kazuha retrieved the lost butter knife from the dishwasher, walking back to the counter,

“Doesn't it make you feel guilty sometimes?”

“C’mon, ____, that was ages ago! And besides, we were kids, we didn't know any better,” she lied, neglecting the fact that you were both well informed of the life-threatening dangers that came with bullying. Kazuha was just having a hard time admitting it.

You were quiet for a moment. How could she be so insensitive?

“Whatever," you mumbled, reaching for the remote again, swiping through the horror movie section. "What’s the hype around this party for, anyways?”

“It’s a costume party, silly!”

Although you were on movie-hunting duty, this conversation was starting to make you sleepy.

“Girl? Are you yawning?”

“Give me a break, Kaz! It's past my bedtime, now pay attention to your pickles,” you joked, rubbing the urge to sleep from your eyes with your free hand.

“It’s the last week of summer break. Don’t let productivity get in the way of your fun before school starts again,” Kazuha protested in both her defense and your favor.

You meditated on her words for a moment before answering.

“Ugh, fine! Only if you promise to join me at the mall for some early morning costume shopping,” you negotiated, pointing a finger at her through your phone.

“Yay!” She cheered, bouncing around her kitchen in a fit of joy, accidentally knocking the glass jar of pickles unto the floor.

“Dammit,” she swore under her breath, running out of frame to likely grab a mop or broom.

Ring. Ring.

You glanced from the tv, taking a quick peek at your phone: Unknown Caller ID.

Hanging up, you proceeded to scroll through Netflix.

Ring. Ring.

The same number was calling you again.

Kazuha was now back in frame, both her broom and mop keeping her hands occupied.

“You can call me back after you check that, if you want.”

“No worries, it’s just some random unknown number that can’t find a hobby.”

“Oooo, spooky,” she said in a teasing voice.

You hung up the incoming call, only for it to call you back once again. Now you were curious.

“Uhm, I’m gonna call you back, Kaz,” you said before hanging up.

“Kk!”

You answered the unknown caller, holding the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked.

“I’ve been dying for you to answer.”

“Yeah? And how’re you feeling now?”

“Honestly, I’ve been better. What’re you up to?”

“Looking for a good movie to fall asleep to.”

“Really? What genre?”

“Dunno. Probably something scary.”

“Do you like scary movies?”

Yikes. These prank callers really needed to step up their scare game. You decided to play along.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” It took everything in you not to cackle at how ridiculous you sounded. This mystery man was truly a recycled character.

“Hmm, you never told me your name, by the way.”

“Hmm, and I don’t think I will.”

“Oh, it’s because you have a boyfriend, isn’t it?”

“Nooo. Now tell me, why do you want to know my name? Huh?”

“So I can know who I’m looking at.”

You rolled your eyes at his cliche script.

“Right, so anyways, I’m gonna hang up now and you can just…uh, I don’t know, touch yourself til you’re content again.”

“Don’t hang up on m-“

What a loser, you thought to yourself, calling Kazuha back.

“Hi! What did they want?”

“It was just some nerd trying to prank call me.”

“No way. Did he sound hot?”

“Kaz, do you wanna watch this stupid movie or not?”

“Fine, fine, I’ve got my pickles and everything. Now press play!”

➠ thursday

Another easy day spent between you and Kazuha went by. After raiding the strip mall’s clothing shops (and food courts) in search of the sexiest party costumes available, you two agreed on an “Angel x Devil” duo theme. Kazuha chose the devil costume, handing you the sparkly white halo from the angel set. “It’s giving Victoria’s Secret,” Kazuha said, checking herself out in the changing room mirror before striking an awkward pose. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but you couldn't get over how uncomfortable the revealing outfit made you feel. You and Kaz used to slut shame girls who dressed like this, only to turn around and do the same thing yourself. This whole experience felt hypocritical. “I look like an attention-whore,” you said to the mirror, a pitiful expression waving over your features. Kazuha walked over to you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Cheer up, ____. You’re more beautiful than any attention-whore I’ve ever seen, and don't you ever let someone tell you otherwise,” she smiled, kissing you on the head.

“Yay, how flattering.”

“No, I’m serious. We’re gonna be sophomores next semester. How long is it gonna take before we explore our scandalous side? Unless you plan on dying a virgin.”

Oh, the horror.

You considered her words for a moment, giving yourself one more look in the mirror.

“I guess this corset makes my boobs look pretty nice…”

“That’s the spirit! Now c’mon my child. Follow sugar mommy Zuha to the register,” she cheered in a high pitched voice, collecting the clothing tags and paying for your costumes.

➠ friday

12:23pm

You walked into the craft store and were greeted by the smell of sawdust and lumber. Grabbing a hand basket, you strolled around the aisles in search for a few repair materials. Last week, Kazuha accidentally broke the shelf you had installed in your wall with her heavy stretching equipment. Needless to say, you were left to pick up the pieces. To your misfortune, the wood glue was placed on an abnormally high rack. Raising up on tippy toes, you extended your arm, barely grazing the item with your fingertips. That’s when a tall figure reached over your frame, obtaining the wood glue with ease. “Thought you might want a little help with that,” the deep voice chimed, placing the wood glue in your basket.

You looked up to meet his face, jolting as if you’d seen a ghost. The helpful stranger proved to be none other than Sunghoon Park, the older brother of the girl you bullied to suicide back in high school. The last time you saw Sunghoon was at his sister’s funeral, which was almost three years ago. “Are you okay,” he asked, noticing the way your features fell at the sight of him. You tried to recollect your thoughts, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Y- yeah, I’m okay. Thanks,” you said nodding, trying to reassure the both of you.

He eyed you curiously, finding your bashfulness to be rather endearing.

“Do I,” he began, pointing at himself and back to you, “-have we met before?”

“No, I uh- Well, kind of. I- I knew your sister,” you admitted, trying to ignore your own stuttering.

“Oh, I remember. You’re ____, right? Yeah. Wonyo told me all about you and your friends. Who were they again?”

“Kazuha and Maddison.”

“Hmm, and where are they now,” he asked, following along as you subconsciously picked up a pack of brad nails.

“Well, Kaz is actually coming to your party tonight. Maddie moved away a while ago after her brother passed in the camping accident.”

All he did was smile in response. You found that odd, but didn’t give it much thought as he kept talking.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about those years recently.”

You nodded, hoping he would continue.

“I tried telling her to ignore the rumors. To keep smiling and focusing on things that made her happy. I guess it just came to a point where she couldn’t pretend anymore.”

Something in you wanted to say sorry, but you came to realize a long time ago that apologies lacked much worth anyway, benefiting the offender more than the offended. You wondered if he even knew how you used to treat her.

You made your way to the check out line, placing your basket on the conveyor belt. The cashier scanned your items, and you handed her your debit card.

“I’ve been thinking about her, too. Wonyoung was such a bright soul, and put her all in everything she did. She used to talk about you all the time, sharing stories of how amazing you were on the ice. She was so proud of you.”

“Yeah,” his voice cracked.

“Would you like your receipt,” the employee asked cheerfully.

“No, that’s okay. Have a good day,” you wished, taking your shopping bag in one hand and Sunghoon’s wrist in the other.

He was docile as you guided him outside of the craft store, pulling him to face you. Breaking the tension, you gave him a hug, leaning into his chest.

He restrained his sniffles rather well before pulling away as if he wasn’t just on the verge of crying.

“So, are you in school,” he asked, started up a new conversation.

“Yeah, I’m a sophomore. We actually go to the same university.”

“Really? I’ve never seen you around before. I’m a junior. What’s your major?”

“English.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. I’m majoring in Psychology, so we won’t have many classes together.”

You couldn’t believe that he was actually this comfortable talking with you. It was a relief knowing that he didn’t hold his sister’s passing against you.

“Well, enough with the sad stuff, I’ve got some last minute errands to run for the party, so I’ll see you tonight, alright? Do you need a ride?”

“Yeah, actually. Thanks for offering.”

Why was he being so nice?

“Yeah, no problem! I’ll pick u up around 8, okay? It was nice meeeting you again!”

“Yeah, you too!”

2:41pm

9:03pm

It was a Friday night and the mood was right, as some would say. You and Kazuha were dressed to impress in your flirty costumes, earning yourself glares from every corner of the room. You arrived a little later then anticipated, but were still thankful for Sunghoon’s kind gesture of driving you two all the way here. However, he’d been missing in action for the past hour, and you were really hoping that you would have the chance to talk with him again. In the meantime, you sat on one of his fancy couches, enjoying the lively rhythms of the music. Colorful flashing lights kissed the tall ceiling, with an array of drinks and snacks displayed at a bar. You knew Sunghoon was rich, but he had really outdone himself.

Walking over to the bar, you grabbed one of the plastic red cups and filled it with whatever flavored liquid enticed you from the large punch bowl, having a seat at one of the metal bar stools. You gave the drink a whiff before taking a sip.

Someone had definitely spiked the juice.

Although you currently had no one around to chat with, you tried to find some enjoyment in the crowded solitude, watching fellow party goers dance their hearts out before joining them yourself.

9:13pm

Kazuha invited herself to take a tour around Sunghoon’s fancy abode, that honestly felt more like a mansion than a home. She wasn’t sure if it was the faint traces of alcohol in her system, but she was certainly in the mood for a good time. Walking through his home’s back door, she spotted him sitting near his pool, staring at the wind-produced waves. She walked towards him, sitting in the idle seat beside him.

“Hi,” he started, barely glancing at her before looking back at the water, reflecting the moon’s beautiful glow.

“Hi. You didn’t dress up for your own party,” she chuckled, swirling the red liquid in her cup.

“I am dressed up. As myself, of course.”

“So, ‘Sunghoon Park’ is a part of your costume then, yeah?”

“Maybe. Would you like to get to know the real me?”

“Maybe,” she said in between a long sip of the fruity drink she held in her hand.

“If you could be anything at all, what would you be?”

Sunghoon rested his elbows on his thighs in a thinking position.

“A ghost.”

“You’d make one goon of a ghost,” she humored herself until she noticed that he wasn’t amused by her antics.

“Ghosts are liberal beings, free from the taxing cares of this blood and bone world.”

‘Who wouldn’t want that,’ Sunghoon thought to himself.

“Uhuh. So, how do you think your dead little sister is enjoying her boring life as a graveyard ghoul?” He froze at her question, gripping his fists around nothing, trying to get a hold of his emotions.

Kazuha was being a bitch on purpose. It was an innate attitude of hers that she had yet to break. Still and all, she couldn’t help but wonder what Wonyoung would be like if she was still here.

‘If they’re better than me, they’re better gone,’ Kazuha often reminded herself, more so as an affirmation, rather than out of belief.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sunghoon retorted, searching his blazer pocket for his silver flask, taking a thick gulp from its spout. Kazuha watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow, marveling at the shadow of facial hair growing on his chin.

Cute.

His jaw clenched at the strong drink, the condensation from the silver canister leaving a print from his warm fingertips.

“Want some,” he asked, giving her a nonchalant look.

“Sure,” she said, opening her mouth for him to pour a stream of the amber liquid down her throat.

“You have a pretty tongue,” he said, using a thumb to toy with her lower lip.

Kazuha felt dizzy under Sunghoon’s dark gaze, his piercing eyes telling of all the bad things he planned to do to her.

He laid a hand on her exposed thigh, gripping at the plush skin. “Look at you, squirming in your seat for me and I’ve barely even touched you,” he whispered against her lips, tasting the rum that flavored her mouth with a kitten lick. Her eyes fluttered at the action. How was he so comfortable doing this in front of all these people?

“Is this why you hated Wonyo for so long? Because she could pull hot guys like me effortlessly? I never understood why it was so hard for you, anyway, considering that you go both ways,” he slithered.

She grabbed his wrist, snatching his grasp from her face.

“What? I thought we were having a little fun,” he grinned like a sly fox, displaying his pearly fangs.

“No, Goon! You were having fun!” She got up from the poolside, adjusting her clothes and wiping her mouth. “I don’t wanna be here anymore, tell ____ I’ll see her tomorrow.”

He set his eyes back on the water, taking another sip from the flask.

She waved her arms above her head frantically, trying to get his attention again. “Aren’t you gonna take me home?”

“Forget it, Kaz. You can walk home for all I care.”

She scoffed to herself. “You’re joking.”

“And you’re a classless bitch who bullies girls who’re better than you,” he spat, tucking his flask away in his jacket pocket before getting up to walk in the opposite direction of her.

“Sunghoon! I can’t walk home by myself in the middle of the night! I’ll get chopped up by some weirdo or something!”

“I’m afraid that’s not my problem,” he said, not turning meeting her face. “And by the way, I want you outta here in the next two minutes or else I’m calling the police!”

Kazuha gave Sunghoon the bird, walking the walk of shame as she left his party alone, dressed as the slutty devil he had made her feel like.

9:40pm

Kazuha took short strides as she walked along the concrete sidewalk, trying to get back home before her legs gave out. On the way, she found a random stick lying on a neighborhood lawn. She decided to keep it with her as a weapon, just in case she needed to defend herself.

Ring. Ring.

She answered her phone without looking.

“Kazzieeee.”

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Oh, we know each other very well.”

A lightbulb went off in Kazuha’s head.

“You’re the perv that prank called my friend a few nights ago, right?” She said, subconsciously walking faster, feeling paranoid for some reason, though, she tried to mask it with humor.

“Where are you going?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Home,” she answered for reasons she didn’t understand.

“I can wait for you at the door if you like.”

“I think I’d like it a little bit more if you found some friends instead.”

“Then why are you walking away from me, you rude devil?”

She turned around to check her surroundings, waving the stick weapon at the sight of a stop sign, dim street lights, and suburban houses. She cackled at herself.

“Oh man, you really had me there for a second,” she sighed, turning back around.

“So, are you gonna invite me in or do I have to force my way?”

“Ugh, what’re you talking about now?”

“I'm talking about how much fun it’s gonna be to rip your insides out!"

Kazuha’s eyes bucked in fear. She never expected the caller to threaten her.

“C- call me again, a- and I’ll call the police,” Kazuha warned in a trembling voice.

It’s hard to sound brave when you’re scared for your life.

The unknown caller let out a mocking chuckle, thoroughly amused by her responses.

She lifted the phone to her face.

“HANG UP AND YOU’LL DIE-“

The dial tone filled the stale night air.

Kazuha fished through her mini bag, looking for her AirPod case. She opened the Spotify app on her phone, clicking on her “Chyll Vybe” playlist. Swallowing her anxiety, she hoped that some upbeat music would take her mind off her fear. Something in her told her to warn you about Sunghoon, and she listened, sending you a quick text before power walking down the side walk. She lip-synced to the melody, trying to lift her spirits.

9:49pm

iMessage from ”Kazzie 🦢🩰” — I still don’t trust Sun-Goon. Pls don’t go anywhere near/with him 🙏

Reply: Where r u?

read

9:50pm

Kazuha felt like someone was watching her. That’s when she looked to her side and saw a tall clothed figure with a scanty white mask walking beside her. She flinched, “Oh my God, you scared the hell out of me!”

The person stayed silent.

“I don’t remember seeing you at Sunghoon’s costume part-“ Kazuha lurched forward over nothing, the clothed figure tearing through her flesh with a sharp blade, scraping the bone beneath.

Kazuha groaned at the feeling, gripping the offender’s arm at the profound pain.

The figure pushed her wounded body on the ground, taking the knife out of her abdomen before stabbing her again and again, until her ragged breaths couldn’t keep up with the continuous blood flow. Kazuha whimpered and winced, even after the stabbing had stopped, her abused innards glistening under the soft moonlight. She watched as the psychopath removed her AirPods from her ears before walking away, leaving her dying body on the pavement.

He put her headphones in his own ears before comically mimicking the way Kazuha was ‘power-walking’ earlier. Rihanna’s cover of Same Ol’ Mistakes blared from the white pods, chanting the lyric:

“But you've got your demons and she's got her regrets.”

“What a lovely song to die to,” the killer chimed, skipping off into the distance.

10:11pm

Buzz. Buzz.

Your phone vibrated in your white hand purse. Pulling out your phone, the bright screen revealed a text from an unknown number.

What a wonderful surprise.

You jotted in your password before finally checking the message.

You spun in your seat, searching the crowd behind you. The dancing party lights hindered your vision. You got up from your seat, stepping closer to get a better look. Goosebumps dawned on the surface of your skin at the sight of the hooded figure in a distorted caricature mask, gripping a knife in their right hand. It was a horrific look to say the least.

“Screw you.” You typed angrily on your phone to the unknown number, blocking the contact and putting your phone back away. You just realized how long it’s been since you saw Kaz, so you went out to go and find her.

“You shouldn’t have done that, ____,” you heard a dark voice say from behind you. You ignored it, thinking it was just your paranoia playing tricks on you.

10:16pm

“Why did you leave my side, Kaz? Kazuha?!” You called out in search for your friend. You didn’t entirely believe what the unknown caller said, but you still wanted to make sure she was okay. You made your way upstairs, opening door after door to no avail. Your friend was no where to be found. “Kazuha?! Seriously, if you don’t come out right now, I’m eating the rest of your dried mangoes-”

Crash.

You bumped into a formally dressed party goer, only to realize that it was Sunghoon.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay,” you worried, fixing the damp hairs that framed his pretty face.

“Oh- your hairs wet.”

“Yeah, I was just at the pool.”

“Must’ve been near the hot tub, you look flushed.”

He offered his hand to lift you up.

“Sorry, but have you seen Kazuha anywhere? She texted me something, and now I can’t find her.”

“Oh, she actually left about half an hour ago,” he admitted, still fixing his clothes from the fall.

“Why? Was she okay?”

“Yes, ____, she was perfectly fine. She probably just felt a little awkward and decided to go home.”

You hummed in response. Unlike Kazuha, you trusted Sunghoon for whatever that reason was, so you didn’t spend anymore time talking about your MIA bestie.

“What’re you doing?”

“Texting her good night. Even though she probably won’t see it til the morning,” you chuckle to yourself, eliciting a smile from Sunghoon himself. You have yet to learn his reasons for smiling at some of the things you say, but you had a feeling there was nothing to worry about.

“Who’s that,” he asked pointing to your conversation with the unknown number.

“Just some rando trying to scare me,” you replied, deleting the conversation before putting your phone back in your purse.

“Hmm, I thought you liked scary,” he replied.

You and Sunghoon started to trail back downstairs, ignoring the way his knuckles occasionally brushed against the back of your hand.

“Hey, uh, I know we don’t know each other very well, but I was hoping we could go somewhere a little more private?”

You considered his offer, thinking about how Kazuha abandoned ship when she was the one who hauled you to this silly party to begin with. The night was still young, and you trusted Sunghoon. You wanted to leave with him.

“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna hit up the ladies room first though, and I’ll meet you out front.”

“Wait, Sunghoon,” you called out. “You haven’t had anything to drink tonight, right?”

“Have you?,” was all he asked before flashing a cheeky smirk, displaying his dimples.

“I’ll be waiting for you in my car, alright” he said, giving you a brief hug before heading to the door.

11:24pm

You weren’t entirely sure where Sunghoon was taking you, but you didn’t really care either.

You were too lost in the way he maneuvered the steering wheel with one hand, captivated by the prominent veins that traced his delicately long fingers.

After some time, Sunghoon pulled the shiny black vehicle into the driveway of a log cabin, hidden within the depths of the forest. The bright car headlights glazed the surface of a rectangular sign hanging above the front door, revealing the words "Park Lodge" carved into the wooden slab.

Sunghoon put the car in park, ceasing the calming sound of the air conditioner. His eyes were still trained on the view behind the windshield.

“So," you began, breaking the silence. "How many girls have you taken here before,” you teased, giving him a curious look.

“None, actually, other than my little sister.”

Peering out the car window, you took in all the trees and wildlife that made up your surroundings. It finally hit you that you were in the middle of nowhere with a guy you had known for less than 24 hours. Oh, if Kazuha could see you now.

“Do you own this place?”

“Yup. My grandfather had it built from the ground up when he was around my age. Now, it belongs to me,” he smiled, trying to mask his pride.

You both exited the vehicle, Sunghoon locking the doors behind you. The sounds of crickets and restless owls greeted your ears. He had shared so much of his belongings with you so far that it almost made you feel guilty.

“I hope I’m not giving off the impression that I’m using you,” you mumbled shyly under your breath, walking closely beside him.

“____, you’re exactly what I need in my life right now. If anything, I’m the one using you.”

Something about his comment made you feel uneasy, but you tried to brush it off. He unlocked the front door, letting you step in before him. Upon entering, the space was dimly lit, with wooden accents trimming each corner. An antique chandelier was the source of the faint light, drawing your attention to the artistic etchings that covered the ceiling. This place was truly a gem.

“You looked really beautiful tonight, by the way,” Sunghoon admitted, interrupting your gawking.

“Shut up,” you bashfully rejected his compliment, feeling a sudden heat rush to your face.

“What? I’m serious.”

“And I’m way too tipsy to think rationally right now.”

“Yeah? And what is it that you’re thinking, then? Honestly?”

You waited before answering him.

“That if you knew just half of what I’ve done in the past, you probably wouldn’t even be talking to me right now.”

He took your hand in his, turning you to face him.

“So stop talking.”

“What?”

“Follow me,” he said, beelining you to another room.

A bedroom.

He flicked one of the light switches before sitting you beside him on the bed. He held intense eye contact with you before speaking.

“I’m not oblivious, ____. You may be a nice girl, but I can tell you have a naughty side, too.”

The thought of you and Kazuha’s shopping adventure reminisced in the back of your mind. Promiscuity came so naturally for her, but for you, it wasn't as easy.

“Trust me, there isn’t a naughty nerve in my body.”

“Not yet, maybe. It just needs to be stimulated, first.”

The word ‘stimulated’ hung in the air for a moment.

“Sunghoon, what are you getting at here-“

You gasped as he stopped you mid sentence, caging you beneath his large frame on the bed.

“Maybe we could start with some on top of the clothes stuff, yeah?”

“Sunghoon, this is a little fast-“

“I really need this from you tonight, okay? Just, please. Let me explore you.”

The desperate look in his eyes softened your heart, sending a sensation of numbness through your limbs. It was hard to process that all of this was actually happening right now. A little voice in your head urged you to let go of the nerves and simply let him. As lust and desire intoxicated your senses, you accepted the fact that you were more than fine with this. More than ready for wherever this night with Sunghoon would take you.

“Okay,” you answered.

“Yeah," he asked in excited disbelief.

“Yes,” you reassured him, nodding.

“Explore me.”

That was the green light Sunghoon had been waiting for, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that quickly escalated into a heated tongue fight. He gently grazed his teeth against your neck, nibbling at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. He snaked a hand between your legs, only for his touch to be hindered by the corseted bodysuit of your angel costume. “May I,” he whispered against your skin, sending a shiver down you spine as his fingers drew circles atop the fabric. You could only nod in response, too pleasure drunk to come up with any words. Tossing the outfit across the room, Sunghoon dipped his fingers into the growing wetness at your core.

“Much better,” he grinned, sliding his fingers up and down past your folds. You reached out to tug at his button up shirt, aching to feel his bare skin against yours. He caught on to your desires pretty quickly, stripping himself before you. You stared in awe at his toned body, sinful thoughts of him flooding your brain. He looked down at your vulnerable figure, smirking to himself.

“Both our clothes are off. You can stop teasing me now,” you said, causing him to chuckle.

“What’re you suggesting I do to you, then,” he questioned, inching closer before meeting you on the bed again.

You felt yourself squeeze around nothing.

“I want you. All of you.”

That’s all it took and Sunghoon was already diving back into your lips, lewd sounds bouncing off the bedroom’s walls. You busied yourself with unzipping his pants, palming the bulge that hid behind his boxers.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, pulling his bottoms down the rest of the way, granting you access to stroke his shaft a few times before aligning his tip with your entrance. He pushed himself past your tightness, not giving you any time to adjust to his size before rutting his hips against you, groaning at the intense pleasure you gave him.

➠ saturday

5:04am

Last nights sleep was still fresh on your face, adding a weight to your eyelids that you didn’t care to fight just yet. You were laying flat on your back once you felt a different weight sit atop your hips in a still straddle. Eyes still closed, you knew the pressure came from Sunghoon once the scent of his rosy cologne hit your nostrils. You shut your sleepy eyes tighter as he grazed something sharp across the length of your neck before leaning down to kiss the spot softly, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He traced the sharp object across the stature of your collarbone and the valley between your chest, tracing another straight line down your stomach to your navel.

Poke.

The sharpness barely pierced you before your eyes shot open at the sting. A shirtless Sunghoon sat on your lap with a large knife in his right hand, the fresh blood from your stomach coating it’s tip. You weren’t naked, but you were only wearing his oversized white poplin shirt from the night before, now stained with a few drops of ruby red. Looking around, you noticed countless stab impressions on the mattress.

Sunghoon must’ve violently stabbed a circle around your head while you slept, loose cotton and feathers covering the messy bedspread.

He looked up from his ministrations and saw that you were awake. You wanted to scream for your life, even though you knew no one would hear you.

“SUNGHOON-,” you tried, but he covered your mouth with his free hand, a sent of iron lingering in your nose.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early to be screaming? The trees might think I’m abusing you in here!”

You rustled under his palm before biting his hand, eliciting a groan from his throat.

“What the fuck is this, huh,” you asked, trying to get up from under him. He wrestled with your arms, pining your wrists to the bed.

“I commend your bravery, but try some shit like that again and I’ll finish cutting you open.”

His eyes were dark, void of any moral conscience. He brought the knife up to your neck, toying with the ripples that made up your anxious throat. “You deserve this for what you did to her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you first.” He smirked at whatever perverse thoughts ran through his mind. Your breathing became ragged, as the urge to cry grew in your chest.

“Aww, we’ve got a crier,” Sunghoon teased, pouting back at you.

“K-Kaz, sh-she, she tried to warn me.”

“A- an- and you probably sh- should’ve listened,” he replied, mocking the way you stuttered. “I still would’ve caught your ass later, anyways.”

“You fucking killed her!”

“Oh, please. That bitch had the mouth of a viper, someone was gonna put her in her place eventually.”

“You’re insane!”

“I’m also self aware.”

The tears were becoming too much for your eyes to hold back, as thick streams poured from your eyelids, dampening your supple cheeks.

“You took my virginity because of your dead sister?” You yelled again in utter disgust.

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t fucking enjoy it.”

You spat in his eye.

“You missed my mouth, princess,” he said in a low voice before wiping the spit off of his face, smearing it against your chest.

“You’re into this, huh? Look how hard your nipples have gotten.”

He put his sweaty forehead against yours, planting a tender kiss to your lips that for some reason, you didn’t reject.

“You know, I did enjoy exploring you last night.”

He kissed you again, pushing his hot tongue past your lips, dancing with yours.

“I enjoyed our taste”

He kissed your neck, gripping your throat until your vision went blurry.

“I enjoyed your scent.”

He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it like horse reins, causing a choked moan to erupt from you mouth.

“I enjoyed the pretty sounds you made for me.”

He glided his digits between your wet folds, dipping his delicate fingers into your entrance.

“Sunghoon!”

“I enjoyed the way you cried out my name as you clenched around my fingers,” he slithered seductively.

“Fuck, get off of me!”

He was in the middle of admiring your tits when he looked up to meet your rage-ridden eyes, his own face a flushed hue from the heat engulfing your sweaty bodies. He sighed in disappointment.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Ugh,” you squirmed, fighting your hardest to escape his grasp.

“How long do you think your weak little body can take my insatiable urges to torture you before it finally gives out? Huh? Making you suffer will bring all the more fulfillment to my life.”

“God, Sunghoon, I don’t care anymore! Kill me! We’ll burn in hell together, I guess!”

“Jeez, would you quit pretending like you want to die? You’re taking all the fun out of it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

The sounds of your choked sobs filled the room’s miserable air.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” you sniffled beneath him.

“Here,” he offered, throwing the knife across the room, causing you to jump at nothing, “allow me to clear it up for you. When I care about someone, I don’t let anyone fucking touch them. Yet, you and your friends managed to hurt her without even doing so.”

“We didn’t know she would take it that far, Sunghoon,” you pleaded in between sobs.

“I didn’t know that my sister would be taken away from me by a bunch of mindless teenage sluts with big and dirty dick sucking mouths! Life’s unfair!”

“Fuck you,” you retorted, feeling lightheaded from all of your screaming and crying. He snickered to himself, presumably finding amusement in how pathetic you sounded. Combing his hair back with a clawed hand, he peered down, looking into your eyes.

“I’ve had just about enough of your talking, princess,” he said, reaching for a towel to shove in your mouth.

Only muffled screams filled the room from there.

He would never admit that it was his own vanity keeping you alive. He’d call it mercy, when deep down, it was his twisted craving for your touch that stopped him from going all the way during torture sessions. Your life had been reduced to its lowest, never to see the mere light of day again. He kept you in an underground basement, lined with bricks and mortar to ensure that you’d never escape his sadistic dictation. Everyday behind those walls felt like an eternity of ‘toy versus toddler tantrum’s.’ If only you knew that a simple mistake you made in high school would be the very wrecking ball to sabotage your entire life.

❅ Thank you for reading @chlorinecake ‘s “Blood On Ice.” Make sure to check out more fun reads on my enhypen bookshelf!

❅ Special thanks to @ashgonedash for requesting this creative piece and @fanficfactoryfoxxx for curing my writers block!!! 🎂

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

!¡update: BLOOD ON ICE part TWO coming SOON, introducing more direct yandere themes and plot exploration!! stay tuned 🎧

[miraluking-respectfully]

How Tall are the SWTOR Boyfriends?

This was written some months ago, but the Theron Height Poll has inspired me to actually post it.

Basing my metrics around 1) the average male height in the USA where I live (5'9" or 1.75m, according to google) 2) what would be funniest or cutest when matched to their personalities and dynamics with the player character. Bear in mind: I am not operating under the assumption that being a short man is something to be ashamed of (it isn't in the real world and it isn't in Star Wars), but some of the husbands in this video game have personalities that are...enhanced by engaging in a little playful stereotyping. You'll see what I mean.

Jorgan: 5'11-6'/~1.8m, hovering somewhere in the above average range. It makes him more intimidating to the average private who makes the mistake of getting his attention, but by the same token, more charming when he warms up to the Trooper and proves himself just a big fuzzy kitty. With a big fuzzy sniper rifle

Andronikos: 5'6ish, 5'7ish (~1.7m), hard to tell because he slouches. He only really stands up straight when he's trying to be a big tough guy

Quinn: 5'7"/1.7018m. No ambiguity because his posture is perfect. Alternate Interpretation: However tall your SW is, he is exactly 6 centimeters shorter. Come Here Elbow Rest

Doc: 5'4"/1.6m. No, not because I think his womanizing personality is him "overcompensating"; in fact Doc's height is only ever an advantage in his romantic conquests. He comes on so strong that him being particularly tall might be intimidating. But nah, he's just a little birthday boy, so the hot people in his orbit let their guard down, allowing him to get in close and hit 'em with a pickup line related to his medical expertise. Being small also means he's harder to hit when helping retrieve wounded resistance fighters from the battlefield #BalmorraForever

Felix: 5'11"/~1.8m, he gets an ABOVE AVERAGE height bc he is an ABOVE AVERAGE husband can I get an AMEN

Torian: You ever met a high school freshman and been fucking shocked that children are allowed to be so enormous? The kid's like, 14 years old and shot up like two feet over the summer, and it feels illegal? That's Torian. He's 19 and he's been 6'2"/~1.87m for the past five and a half years, but he's still a little gangly and the only reason he knows how to control his extremely long limbs is he's literally a trained fighter. Alternate Interpretation: If your BH is taller than 5'10, he's 5'10 exactly

Corso: 6'/1.82m. I know I just said negative associations around short men don't exist in The Galaxy Far Far Away, but Corso seems like the kind of guy who would somehow independently develop a complex about his height, if he was short. The fact he doesn't means he must be tall

Vector: God, I really wanted to make him on the shorter side of average to pair with his mild-mannered personality and contrast the more unusual elements of his speech and his eyes, but his sleek character design makes him feel tall when I'm looking at him. He's also the only LI I've drawn beside one of my characters, and I just sort of unconsciously made him tall because my agent is kind of short, and it looked appealing. Results inconclusive; some boyfriends can grow as tall as starships while others can be as small as mites

Arcann: 5'8"/1.72m. (Thexan was 5'9")

Theron: No taller than 5'9"/1.75m. Theron seems like a pretty normal guy when you meet him, until he reveals himself to be an insane little freak (affectionate), so giving him the most Average Height Possible feels correct.

Koth: However tall Lana is, Koth is exactly 2 cm shorter.

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk. I encourage spirited debate in the replies. Girl LI Height Opinions still percolating

[fedorah-the-explorah]

im getting you started.

Bro, the timeline in Carmen Sandiego is super finicky, and I'm pretty sure I've spent more time thinking about this than the creators intended us to, but WHATEVER. It haunts me.

Right, so the creators said Carmen is 20 at the start of the series, but as I said: that math don't math!

Season one takes place over the course of six months:

Season 2 picks up one week after season 1, in February. We know this because they're celebrating Carnival.

For the purpose of breaking down this theory, I'm going to place Carmen's birthday as March 1st, her WOEICs counterpart's official birthday.

So. At the end of season one, which would have been mid-February, Player says something about how Carmen was found on the side of the road twenty years ago, but if her birthday was in a mere matter of weeks, couldn't you theorize that he was rounding up? Maybe she's 19 turning 20.

Or, maybe, she's 20 turning 21? No!

At the end of season 2, Shadowsan says he found her twenty years ago. This is where we take a detour to discuss infant development.

In the flashbacks, we see that baby Carmen prefers crawling-- she can toddle a little bit, but not well. Children typically begin standing between 7 and 12 months, and walking between 10 and 18 months. We also see that she babbles and coos a lot, but no words. Children tend to say their first word at around 12 months. Based on this, I'd wager that baby Carmen was around seven or eight months old. We know she's a physical prodigy, so she could potentially be even younger-- the youngest recorded baby to walk was six months old.

Placing baby at 7 months when she was kidnapped, that makes Shadowsan's "I found you twenty years ago" accurate to the month. At this point, Carmen is 20 years and 7 months old.

Season three takes place in October/November. Presumably, season three picks up right after season two, putting the end of season two in October. It spans about the same length as season one.

While the word of the creators doesn't have much bearing here-- as this post is very much a "you guys are wrong and here's why" kind of post-- one of the creators did say that they imagined Carmen as being twenty by season three. That would make it impossible for her to have been twenty during season one. Too much time has passed for that to work.

Season 4 takes place sometime around February. We know this because Devineaux asks Gray what he was doing on the train to Poitiers 18 months ago. 12 months ago would have been February (start of season 2) and six months before that is August. That's eighteen months.

Going by this, I think Carmen was yoinked just after her twenty-first.

Interestingly, if my math is mathing-- and who knows, I turned a two year degree into a three year degree because I kept failing math classes, I could be talking actual nonsense right now-- this makes Player like 17/18 by season four, and that's hilarious to me because that means his parents (tried) to make him go to school for like the last semester of his senior year. Free my boy 😭

In conclusion, Carmen is 19 at the start of season one, she and Player are three years apart, and Player's parents are some cruel mfers. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[shizucheese]

So full disclosure, I actually listened to episode 7 on Saturday, but this episode had so damn much to it and I got a bit side tracked by a theory that I'm still working on but I really want to get this out before episode 8 comes out.

As usual, if you want to see the continuously updated and reblogged version of my red string board, you can find it here.

Today is Tuesday, 2/27/24. Episode 7 came out 5 days ago on 2/22/24.

“Talkers”

Norris (Voice: Martin?/ Alex)

Episode 1: “Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]”. The Stranger? The End? The Dark? The Lonely? The Flesh? Arthur (Nolan?).

Episode 3: "Infection (full body" -/- Arboreal [Journal entry]". The Spiral? (Paranoia? Auditory, visual and olfactory hallucinations) The Lonely? The Corruption. The Flesh? (Callbacks to the Flesh Garden from S5)

Common Themes: Hearing the voice of a dead/ missing loved one?

Chester (Voice: John?/ Jonny)

Episode 1: “Transformation (eyes) -/- Tresspass [chat log]”. Magnus Institute, The Eye. (Involves a forum; the Web?).

Episode 5: "Disappearance (undetermined) -/- Invitation [Internet blog]". The Eye (Movies. Movie name: "Voyeur" "Must be seen to be believed"...). The Web? (Another website?). (Very reminiscent of Mag 110: Creature Feature.) The "poor old guy" at the theater is totally an Eye avatar, right? Kinda gives me "Simon Fairchild when he was first introduced" vibes.

Episode 7: "Agglomeration (miscellany) -/- congregation [email]". The Stranger. The Burried. The Desolation. Possibly all of them if my theory about the items the Volunteers brought in is correct...

Unsure if this is Eye related like the other statements were. This is also the first "Chester" statement where the source material wasn't from a website or blog, which don't have the same expectation of privacy that the sources of the other statements do. Email, though, so still internet related, and this seems to be an open letter rather than personal correspondence, so it still might align with the theme.

Agustus: (rare?)

Episode 4: “Collection (blood) -/- musical [letter]” The End. The Lonely? The Slaughter.

Letter writer thinks passing on his violin might allow a part of himself to live on in his nephew. Very Jonah Magnus of him.

Music teacher hears “faraway music”, then goes crazy and throws himself out of the carriage and dies. Reminiscent of Mag7 and the Piper? The merchant’s wares include dice (Mag 29?). Got the violin from him (took his blood?). Effect of the violin reminiscent to Grifter’s Bone (Mag 42).

(Oliver Bardwell lol very funny guys)

Non-Talkers (?)

Episode 2: "Transformation (full) -/- dysmorphic [video call]". The Spiral? The Flesh. The Stranger. Ink 5oul (avatar/ entity?)

Episode 6: "Injury (needles) -/- intimidation [999 call] "Corruption? The Spiral? The Flesh? The End?

"Needles" reminds me of Michael!Distortion.

Notes and Thoughts:

"It's not like we're dealing with Tape Recorders..." I'm side eying you real hard, Celia. And what's with all of the questions? The "looking for patterns" question is 100% fair but those examples are AWEFULLY SPECIFIC. I wasn't entirely sure I bought the idea that Celia was the same Celia from TMA, but no this is totally her for sure. "DO YOU KNOW WHO JOHN" IS EXCUSE ME? WHAT REAL STUFF?

HILLTOP CENTER BRANCH?!!! 0 managerial or other support from HR; very reminiscent of the weird circumstances surrounding the house on Hilltop Road. Bear skin rug very reminiscent of the Gorilla Skin in TMA S3. The Volunteers remind me of the medical students from Mag34. The email is about events from 2015. This was the same year Gertrude died and John became the Head Archivist in TMA. Why am I not seeing anyone else talk about this?

I have a theory that I was originally going to put in this post but detangling that giant ball of red string entirely is taking too long so I'm just going to put the TL'DR here and maybe make a proper list later if I can ever finish pulling the string on that particular red sweater. Between the items the Volunteers bring in, and the events of the incident itself, what if every single Entity is represented? The gunshots that were heard were the Slaughter. The fire was the Desolation. The person who wrote the email being crushed by all of the items was the Buried. There are a number of artifacts that get listed off that could represent at least one if not multiple Entities (which might be their purpose; considering how many times the fact that the categorization was imperfect got brought up in TMA, it's probably more helpful to view them as a spectrum more than anything else), including some that are very reminiscent of things from specific TMA statements (The bear skin rug -> The Gorilla skin, Old medical equipment -> the syringe in mag 45? The telescope -> Maxwell Rayner was originally Edmond Halley, the Astronomer, etc. etc). So...okay, hear me out: what if this was all part of a ritual, and that's what the "good cause" was? A ritual that involved all of the fears being represented? Sound familiar? Except instead of it being a ritual to start an apocalypse or reshape the world in the image of one or more of the fears, what if it was a ritual to summon something that was associated with all of the fears? Or, rather, what if it was a ritual to summon someone who had been touched by all of the fears? And that's also why so many of the items seem to be analogous to things from statements and events from TMA? Like....maybe I'm wrong entirely. Or maybe I'm right about this being about summoning someone, or something, (maybe someone from TMA? Maybe Celia?), but wrong about it being John who was being summoned. But, again, this incident took place in 2015, which was the same year Gertrude died and John became head Archivist, and I feel like this means something.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Wilbert's Worst

Right, so I really was open to having my mind changed on The Worst One but nobody’s argument has budged me.

I was going to write a complete, balanced essay on The Worst W. Awdry Book, but I’m a) mired in the research phase (hey if anyone knows someone with an encyclopedic knowledge of Tom and Jerry hit me up, for real) and b) right now I wanna talk about the characters and their Beloved Dynamics instead. 

So I'm just gonna get this out of the way so I can post the poll and move on to answering fun asks and watching Tom and Jerry in peace. Behold: a salty and unbalanced review.

Wilbert’s biggest failure of a children’s storybook? 

Henry the Green Engine 

Ohhh… because of the, uh, ra —?

Because of the racism, yes!

Oh. You do know that since 1972 they’ve republished it without the n-slur? 

Good for them. Two things: 

1. I know it used to be there, I’m never able to read it without knowing it was there in the first edition.

2. I consistently try, when ranking the books, to consider them in the context in which they came out. Because of this, I don’t like using “things that happened later” (like a new character never being properly used again or whatever) against the book. This helps me evaluate the author’s successes and failures against what they were trying to achieve when they wrote it vs what I would most want (blorbo content). It helps me not bring to bear the whole weight of fanon and fandom on a text that should be able to stand or fall on its own. Tl;dr I try to read the books like a guy who picked it up in 1951, or whatever. 

And yeah, if I’d bought this when it came out it would have had the slur. I’m going to judge it accordingly. 

Look, racism is bad, no argument, but does that mean the book as a whole must be condemned? 

Yeah, I think the slur and the “aaaand suddenly, blackface! heeheehee” bullshit fuck over the entire book, game over. Go directly to jail, do not collect $200. 

The Railway Series is not a work of high art or deep thorny complex literature. The books are meant for children — small children, at that. Children small enough to get bedtime stories read to them. The main goal of each book (especially this early on — you do have to manage secondary priorities like “pleasing the long-time fanbase” the longer you go, but right now we’re only 6 books into the series) is to create a happy imaginary world to enhance childhoods and family lives… to impart to other parents and kids a similar cosy happiness to that the author and his own kids enjoyed when he was workshopping/drafting the stories for them. When we say “children’s book” we really do mean little’uns — these average 1.25 full-color illustrations per page!

And these books sold in large numbers. This means it’s a certainty that somewhere in 1951 there was a Black family who owned the whole series, who went out to the shops, whose kid was like “ooh! Henry gets a book, neat…,” who like everyone else enjoyed the wild ride of Henry’s inspection and coal and wreck and rebuild… only to get verbally spat on one page from the end. 

Real mood-killer there. Epic fail, as the cool kids used to say in my youth. 

All right, fine, cool kids never said that. Anyway, statistically speaking there was certainly even more than one family that got that experience. Not to mention the non-Black families who even in 1951 were like “... wtf? i’d smack my kid if they ever said a word like that around me, geez. no.” Just a lot of people who had the light the book was kindling in them snuffed out all at once. 

You can actually be totally racist and your book not commit creative suicide on the penultimate page! Awdry flubbed his job of 'bestselling books-for-six-year-olds' here. Creative failure. Unforced error. Automatic zero. 

But times were different then, you have to consider it in the context of the time. 

1951 U.K. was not the nadir of multiracial equality or Black power, but jfc. I can assure you that over 99% of children’s books published that year in the Anglosphere managed to not use the n-slur. 

All right, all right. That was bad. But this feels off-topic. If you had never known about what used to be “Henry’s Sneeze,” would you still rank the entire book as dead last in the Wilbert Awdry corpus? 

Not dead last, but it is not a strong book. “Coal” and “The Flying Kipper” are super-interesting as material for Henry, but after that the book kind of falls off a cliff; the intrigue drops dramatically. The railway incidents chosen to make stories of are all solid choices, but it was not only “Sneeze” where Awdry’s handling of the material feels clumsy and weird. (And I’m not even talking here of the “heehee blackface — ain’t i a stinker?” gag in “Sneeze.”) 

But… “The Flying Kipper”? C’mon. It’s a superb story and no book that contains it can be the absolute worst in the series. 

“TFK” remains easily the best single TVS episode ever – but a lot of that is down to Britt and David’s artistry and judgment. 

Don’t get me wrong, a full-on railway wreck makes interesting material. But I don’t think the book does nearly as much with it as it could (and I’m trying sooooo hard here to forget about the amazing TVS adaptation, as I think it REALLY shows Awdry up. Even so, the storytelling here is surprisingly tepid and low-stakes). I get that Awdry probably wanted to lean into the comic angle and not make Henry’s condition afterwards seem too grave, in order to ensure the material wasn’t too dark for his young audience? (*mutters* again, a level of tender consideration for his readers’ youth that went right out the window when it came to small Black kids, evidently coz he couldn’t imagine that they read) Understandable, laudable — but if he outright refuses* to make the wreck too dramatic or scary then, well, then the wreck isn’t real scary or dramatic. And it can’t save the rest of the book from its flaws. 

*For all I know it could have been the publishers who insisted that the wreck be made preschooler-safe, that’s possible (although it’s also consistent with Awdry’s brand of humor and his overall low degree of emotionalism in his writing). Either way, though, the end result book is what it is and it will be judged accordingly. 

In addition to not being as exciting as many remember... @trainsupessandhuntresses asked me once if I thought some of Awdry's stories were "mean-spirited." I had to assent vigorously. And a surprisingly high proportion of those "mean" moments are in Henry the Green Engine? For some reason? It’s not just the racism. Awdry was not in the game to give Henry a deserved happy ending, he’d wanted to kill him off (the fuck?) and when his publishers prevented him (I don’t say this often, especially since I love how salty the Awdrys get about their publishers, but this in case good job, publishers!!) he wrote “TFK” with the primary motivation of giving Henry a new engine basis. Any soft or hearty emotions we get out of the deal are a side-effect — the only emotion that was fueling Awdry as he wrote this was spite, spite and a weird resentment towards his poor, long-suffering, invaluable illustrator. (I don’t blame Awdry for being frustrated that the engine illustrations were continually inaccurate or confusing, but I do think it’s weird to read all this great Henry material knowing that it was written with such poor grace.) 

So his ‘happy Henry’ stuff feels perfunctory; his Percy interlude is just brutal (why did you have to drag Percy into Henry’s book purely to give him a fuck-up, a scolding, and a messy dunce cap?); Gordon’s savaging of Henry for being too happy after recovering from a near-death experience is such an incredibly low point for Gordon that it’s hard for me to accept it as canon (there’s being proud, boastful, and self-absorbed, and then there’s being the straight-up raccoon dumpster fire Gordon is in that scene). Oh, and I think “call the police [local constabulary, doesn’t bear firearms]” woulda probably a less reckless way of dealing with the rock-throwing youths than the sneeze of hot locomotive ashes, which of course the Fat Controller doesn’t like, that shit coulda been real dangerous! Mind, there are small rays of kindness throughout that do get me (the interactions between Henry and his crew feeling to me the least perfunctory and most heartfelt), but this is overall such a mean-spirited book. God. It starts off with such a gentle story (almost a non-story, if you’re in it purely for the “railway incidents” game and not character drama), but in short order the vibes just sorta suck. At least in other RWS books, when the vibes are off, they’re usually off near the beginning and then improve by the end. This one gets worse as it goes on. Oof. Don’t like that. 

Also, the last page is sooooo lame. I suspect the publisher strong-armed Awdry into writing most of it so that at least the slur wasn’t on the last page of the book... and if Awdry had any idea of how much he’d just empowered Henry and all his fans in this book he shouldn’t have found it hard to find 50 extra words to sum things up. As it was, he’s just filling space and running out the clock, lol. Lame wrap-up. Boring. As usual when it comes to every little thing about this book, Britt and David closed this up better (mind, their closer – “He had taught Gordon and silly boys a lesson, with a whistle and a sneeze” – also sucked. But at least it was blessedly short.)

Didn’t you once list HtGE on a list of your favorite Wilbert Awdry books? 

I did list it as one of the books that “at one time or another” have been my favorite in the series. Unfortunately in the case of HtGE, that was back when I really couldn’t read a story that I knew from the TVS without mentally substituting the adaptation into my brain as I read… largely overriding the actual text. Plus, everything I knew from TVS as a kid kind of automatically got a halo effect. Plus, I was super into Henry’s arc. 

The first time I read HtGE after calming down and actually reading all the books as books... massive disappointment. There is such a gap there between what I'd thought the book said (all our incredible fanon work overanalyzing and headcanoning Henry and building this beautiful fantasy arc about disability!) vs. what it actually said (limp and careless writing, mean vibes, airbrushed n-slur, bad aftertaste). 

I do think there is some stuff about the development of Awdry’s storytelling technique here that is interesting (again, Tom and Jerry superfans reading this, please shoot me a message!) but it doesn’t counteract everything else. 

At least we’re over the racism stuff? 

Nah, I’m not over it, actually. 

[paracosmicessence]

Hey! I love your art so much 💖 I wanted to ask what program you use for 3D modelling?

aw thank you!! :3

and to answer your question i’m going to warn you this is going to be kinda long because i’m gonna use this post as an excuse to show my 3D models that aren’t awful (sorry lol).

i actually use two different programs, both for different purposes, but you don’t need to get both, it really depends on which kind of modeling you want to do.

1) the first is called Nomad Sculpt on the iPad, you do have to pay for it unfortunately but it’s definitely one of the best modeling apps for the iPad. i know Blender is free but my computer is really old and doesn’t run the program very well, and at this point i’ve already gotten used to nomad sculpt.

anyway tho, i use it for art-related things like the obvious 3D models, but recently i’ve been playing around with just making scenes to use as references for my drawings. they’re not anything impressive, most of the time i actually use it to make little figurines to print and turn into earrings/little friends that sit in my room just for fun.

i’m gonna show this first bc they look cooler once they’re printed and colored (also you can tell i printed mini crowley and aziraphale when my sonadow hyperfixation started bc i never actually painted crowley) (he’s just kinda sitting there oops).

the little red guys are actually my favorite bugs (goliath beetles), i made them about a year ago but i still wear them like every day.

and here’s what they look like in the app, it’s a little intimidating but once you get used to it it’s actually kinda fun just playing around and seeing what you can do.

2) the second program i use is Shapr3D (also for the iPad, but i think they made an update where you can run it on windows/mac). you also have to pay for this as a subscription which sucks, i’m only able to use it since the engineering program i’m in pays for it.

Shapr3D is one of the many CAD software programs out there, but it’s nice bc it’s very beginner friendly and very easy to use. CAD is mainly for architecture/engineering but i honestly think more 3D artists should give it a try. it’s really nice once you get the hang of it and (i’m probably biased bc i’m a student) i honestly prefer it over just normal modeling software because i feel like you can be a lot more creative with it.

right now for my engineering class, our semester final is to design and present something that’s functional, and we can either explain the math behind it or just 3D print it and demonstrate how it works, and i’m making a functional mini model of “the rack” trap from Saw III (i’m not psychotic i swear i’ve just had a Saw hyperfixation for 5 years).

i’m definitely gonna post it when it’s finished just bc i’m already excited with how it’s turning out, but for now here’s a couple at-home projects i’ve done:

(above) i have a bunch of wet liners and i designed a stackable holder thingy with bolts between the shelves and a little cute star screw to fasten it at the top.

(above) i also made a few rotating brush holders at home (bc the ones that actually rotate are like $40 for some reason) by buying a set of small sphere bearings at home depot for like $5 (that’s what those little metal things are inside the third one, i took it apart bc i don’t know how to put a video and a picture in the same post) (just pretend they’re spinning rn).

anyway that’s all!! if you actually read this whole thing i love you so much bc engineering and design is one of my special interests so thanks for letting me tell you about the silly things i’ve made :3

[welcometololaland]

Love Game (aka the tennis au) turns one!

Going to have to beg you to bear with me for a moment while I have a little breakdown about the fact that this fic has just turned 1 year old. As is customary for me, I am actually late to the celebration (it was 2 days ago), but I still I'm here and I'm still crying and I'm still just as much in love with tennis disaster TK Strand and cool, calm and collected Carlos Reyes as I ever was.

This is not my most popular fic by a long shot, nor is it my best writing, but it is the one I love the most. It's the fic I poured my whole heart and soul into and couldn't stop obsessing about. It's the fic I never wanted to stop writing, the one that still keeps me up at night, pretty much the only fic of mine I re-read for my own enjoyment. I loved every moment of creating the Tarlos tennis AU, and even though The Ring-In eclipses it in popularity, I hope that Love Game is my legacy.

If you haven't read the tennis AU it is here for you:

Love Game (original - 142k)

Match Point (sequel - 21k)

Love in Slow Motion (tennis AU prompt fill - 33k)

I'd also like to give the following thank you shout outs 1 year after the fact (these are all in a/n but to repeat) to @rmd-writes for being my beta reader and head cheerleader, @dustratcentral for continuing to support me in the most unhinged way, @queen-saltyfries for helping me with all the tweets and just being a general legend and to @paperstorm for pre-reading and supporting the vision.

ALSO - I have to give a shoutout to the following creations that have been inspired by the tennis au and give me SO MUCH LIFE on a regular basis. Seriously. Y'all are amazing. You have my heart. I owe you my non-existent firstborn child (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE message me if I haven't picked any creations up - it has been a fair bit of time since I saw some of them and I promise I haven't intentionally excluded anyone, my memory just sucks).

Please go and support these creators on their page!!!

This incredible anniversary post by @heartstringsduet

The Tarlos Sports AU creation by @watmalik

A LOVE GAME GIF!!! by @guardian-angle22

The sweetest, loveliest net kiss by @fitzherbertssmolder

TENNIS CARLOS WITH A BEARD by a twitter user but I don't think they have a tumblr :( if they do please let me know!

another amazing creation by the above user.

you guys are so incredible and i thank you so much for sharing your talent with me!

and finally, thank you to everyone who has supported love game over the years in the comments, reblogs, asks, likes etc. that whole fic is for you!

(@sheholdsthemoon i swear you sent me a LG inspired art but i couldn't find it anywhere - please let me know if you ended up posting it!)

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[legs-art]

ELEMENTAL REALM / ECLECTIC CHAMBER OCS!

Hiiiiiii first art post I'm sharing publicly! This has been a month in the making but it's so worth it. These are a handful of characters in my OC universe, the Elemental Realm! AKA the Eclectic Chamber, I'm currently going through a name change from elemental realm to eclectic chamber. Don't worry about that.

Italicized names mean those are placeholders while I still try to come up with a better name. For some, those placeholders have been there for years :P whoops

These comprise pretty much all the significant characters I have (with a guideline of appearing in at least 2 stories although there's some exceptions). There are roughly another 100 or so characters that I opted not to include because they're either not as significant, I don't have an interesting design for them, or I just didn't feel like it. Full namedrop behind the read more in case you're interested! Maybe I'll do a part 2 of this in a year or so, who knows.

If there's any characters here that tickle your fancy, shoot an ask or a comment for me to infodump about them! Quality of infodumping may vary, especially considering I still have to step around spoilers and whatnot, but I'm very interested to show you how these characters have been sculpted in my head over these past several years. (Also, I will be revealing some info about the story ideas I already have in mind for the Elemental Realm soon, so stay tuned for that!)

Uhhhhhh yeah. Hopefully I'm not forgetting to say anything important. I really love what I made lol I hope I can finally start moving this universe outside of my head and into the world ^_^

Anyway, yeah, sorry to the following for not making the cut:

The Pawn

OBJECT

Pirate Cat

Frost Wyvern

The Other Plant Species

Ishmael

Olive Hills Grandmother

Disco Restituo Grandmother

TVHead Salesperson

The Hidden Prime Minister

AtmOS

Operatic Nobeard

KUR-180 (Ferret Form)

Hyperlink Trace II

Squirrel

Wibblewobble Vortex

Cuttlefish "Danger" Aromantic

Sporror

Teodoro Locksmith

Galleria Monies

Vapo Sea Devil

Sternum Crease

Base Sorceress

Nom Diamonds

Zareen Hangus

Mark Genuine

Blundered Impersonator

Alice

Senderman

Jasper

Cow Cowboy

Blood Knight

Ice Prince

Ice Squid

Ice Cephalopod

Stratos

Kozmo

Old Guy With Badger Stand

Overseer

Loomynutty

Blobular Shapeshifter

Santa

Krampus

Chad Shakespeare

Angelsbane

Elephant Friend

The Tourist Trap

Fluffy Boy Rabbit

Fluffy Boy Bear

TTRPG Komodo Dragon

Windmill Gnome

Robot Police Dog

Little Mouse Guy

Perfect Soup Nerd Bird

Sentient Tiny Hot Air Balloon

Lugnarts

Verde Mermaid

Clownimatronic / The Machine

The Crescents

Suntronic

Mongoose Man

Blizzard Wizard

Kulfi Wala

The Beast

Still Chaos Penguin

Caged Water Beast

Metakellos

Monsterfucker Snake Robot

Rodrigo

Crystal Aurora King

Star Matter Ursa

Glorp

ANN-13

Crysple

X-02

Pyramid Of Mayhem

Fishbowl

Top Hat

Alien Traffic Control Tower

Fridgey

Dice

Easel

The Stalker

Majesty Of Colors

Andromeda V5

[maespri]

collection of my favorite moments from watching leigh whannell, james wan & cary elwes' commentary on saw (2004)

this post is long as hell but by god did i get a lot of laughs out of watching it i had to write everything down

cary (referring to opening title card): that was a beautiful font- how did you decide on that font, james? james: we put a bunch of fonts on the wall and threw darts

cary: there it is. this is one of the best openings of all time james: who says that cary: me

cary (referring to adam getting out of the bathtub): well it’s great. there you are, flopping onto the ground like a fish.

leigh: if i had opted to sleep in the bathroom every night, would you have done the same just to be my brother in method acting? cary: not a chance leigh (sadly): ok cary: i don’t care, you can call me what you want- leigh: and i have on several occasions-

cary: here’s adam listening to the tape now leigh: ah yes, the look on his face of… something james: this was me giving leigh instructions. i was saying to him, “leigh, now… (laughter) what i want you to do is act the way you did when i first told you what your prospects were as an actor. i want that same look of… despair” leigh (laughing): that same look of DREAD (laughter from all three)

cary: i gotta tell you leigh, even though we’re friends- james: you suck! cary (laughing): you suck! no, no. you did a really great role. it was a really great performance, i was really impressed leigh: thank you. i would say to you, there’s obviously room for improvement, but you- y'know (jokingly) if you keep going the way you’re going, you’ll be a fine actor one day cary (solemnly): thank you

leigh (talking to cary): i remember mocking you on several lines. you’d be like ‘give me the tape,’ and i’d be like ‘gIvE mE tHe tApE’

james: saw is the best comedy i’ve ever made

cary: no but you gotta figure- we’re trapped in this little room where they’ve sealed us off, and… we were stuck in there for seven days, and if you didn’t get along in that little space, man, it was gonna be a long, long, shoot leigh: and it was (laughter)

james: saw was never about just killing people in cool ways cary: well that’s part of it

cary: i remember seeing [the reverse bear trap] when you guys sent this little dvd to me, and i thought right away, “you two have to be the most twisted people ever to come up with this concept.” and THIS? [referring to billy] the doll- WHICH YOU MADE! james: i made it in my bedroom. this is what i do in my spare time. leigh: it’s quite scary actually. you go over to james’ house and as you approach his house you just see like a light sparking in the window like a mad scientist, and a scarecrow in the front- cary: and the scarecrow is just him in disguise (laughter)

james: but no, we’re not really this twisted in real life cary: that’s what was amazing, i met you guys in real life and you were so… so boring

cary: who was operating billy anyway james: i was cary: you weren’t letting anyone else touch that doll james: yeah man, only i get to stick my hand up that dolls butt

leigh: i called this doctor and said, “so im writing a script- what drug is there that you can inject someone with and they wouldn’t be able to move but they can still feel pain?” and this doctor’s like “…what’s this for?” (laughter) and im like “it’s for a script i’m writing” and he’s like, “riiiight…”

cary (talking about makenzie, who plays diana): do you remember off-camera where she had to cry for about 2-3 minutes and she… she just went into a place james: she just found a place and she went there cary: and i thought, “how old is she, six? what six year old can do that?!” james: i turn to leigh, and im like, “look at her, man! you should be taking lessons!” leigh: i actually saw cary with her in the corner one day and i was like, “isn’t that sweet- cary, the more mature, more experienced actor is giving makenzie advice," and when i got closer i heard cary asking, ‘how do you do it?!’” (laughter)

cary: i should point out, by the way- james wasn’t even sitting in a chair for the first few days of the shoot, like for about a week leigh: he couldn’t reach. those chairs are so high. (laughter) james: NO- leigh: he was like, “somebody get me an apple box!” cary: i just kept thinking, “my god, get this man a CHAIR!” james (joking): well my producer said to me, “if we get you a chair, that’s gonna break the budget” (even more laughter) james (continuing to quote producer): “we can’t afford a chair, james. what the fuck do you think this is? this is not a hollywood film!”

cary (seeing the pig mask on a table): there’s the famous pig head… which i don’t remember seeing in this version leigh: you were ASLEEP by this stage of the sundance screening (laughter) leigh: i had to keep nudging you like, ‘cary… the films still going, cary…’

leigh: and like any good villain, jigsaw smokes out his lair with fog and beautifully placed lights

cary: where did jigsaw go to school to learn these incredible talents? james: arch-nemesis school

leigh: certainly when people watch saw the first thing they think of is italian renaissance art cary (referring to the scene of adam pretending to die of blood poisoning): or really renaissance acting in this scene (laughter)

cary: and we find out here when adam gets zapped that they’ve got us on some... electrical wiring system... leigh: don’t go into it too much, cary, it’s best not to (laughter) leigh: just- of course it’s electrified, why wouldn’t it be? james: just do what i do and kind of glaze over it...

lawrence (in the film): oh, stop acting leigh: i’ve always thought that moment with cary was a slip into reality where cary goes, “stop acting!” (laughter)

leigh: certainly, i mean, when you make a film, you... you have to account for the unintelligent people out there, and i think we kept that in mind (laughter) cary: what do you mean by that leigh? leigh: well- i- james: that was spoken by LEIGH WHANNELL, he lives at THIS ADDRESS-

james (talking about billy in adams apartment): the doll actually wasn’t meant to be in this scene, but i remember when we sent the script to the producer, he goes, “we need more doll,” and this was the only scene i could think of sticking him in cary: and billy was available, wasn’t he? yeah… (laughter) leigh: after fierce negotiations with his agent, we managed to get him

cary: do you wanna tell people where you came up with the idea for the pig mask? james: cary, that’s just another one of my fetishes that i don’t wanna get into right now

leigh (making fun of adam): the only surveillance photographer in the world that uses a flash leigh: he’s had two private hire-ers fire him

(after a pause of silence) leigh (quietly): i think my favorite line in the film is coming up cary (thoughtfully): i like this scene here james: are we actually watching the film now??

leigh: this is actually a line i repeated lawrence (in the film): he’s a bottom-feeder, just like you leigh: that line- i went (mockingly), “hE’s a bOtToM fEeDeR, jUsT lIkE mE?” and i thought, ‘that’s gonna be great, that’s gonna make the final cut’ cary: (losing it laughing) james: yeah that was the first thing i cut out

leigh: james would hold a- i think it was a prop gun- to my head and say, “act, you bastard, act!”

leigh: a lot of people ask why lawrence didn’t take his shirt off to reach the cell phone in this scene, and james’s response to that is… james: james: thanks for that, leigh (leigh & cary laughing) james: just throw the spotlight on me, sure…

leigh: a lot of people ask why they didn’t just shoot the chain or shoot the lock with the gun, and um… leigh: leigh: well to that i say you’ve stumped me

leigh: this punch that you’re about to see actually accidentally hit [zep's actor]. i felt so bad. cary: ow- did you really hit him? leigh: yeah! cary: oh, brother- leigh (joking): and then toilet lid, too! i just kept getting him in the head! that’s real blood! (laughter)

james: do you know that i went online, cary, and i found some great saw fan sites, and one of them had a link to a site that was filled with all this saw fanfiction. people who had written stories about saw- cary: no, you’re joking- james: -and one of them was about- from your character's point of view, after he crawled out of the bathroom… was about three pages of just this inner monologue going, ‘oh god. my foot’s missing. what do i do now.’ (laughter) james: it was great stuff

[geralts-yenn]

2023 character wrapped

@deandoesthingstome knows too well I get a little obsessive over some characters - let's see if I can make it to nine (or if I can stop at nine 😁 a look onto my masterlist that's barely a year old tells me we will get there)

Here we go...

My no 1: No surprise here - Mikey

He's my precious silly boy and I will never stop loving him. As part of a family of lunatics here or here, as our best friend, or as the cute neighbor who steals the heart of Nina and Mel

2. Melot

I blame @raccoon-eyed-rebel for introducing me to the slutty lil' braid boy. Just look at that grumpy, miserable little guy. I can't help but thinking about how to make him feel better. That's why he gets the love from not only one but two lovely persons in my Hearts Too Big universe. He's still not quite happy as a vampire in Believe in Me, but I swear we'll get to it.

3. Syverson

Not much of a surprise - how could I not love him? He's the character I read the most this year, for sure. But I also loved to write him into my bonfire story and it's follow up. I was yearning for him and I imagined him as a daddy 🥰

4. Evan

Oh, he was a surprise for me. Even though I liked his character in the movie, I didn't intend to write for him. Until a lovely nonnie put him into my brain and started to fuel my obsession with him here, here and here.

5. Walter

The grumpy bear was always a favorite of me when it came to reading but I was a little scared to write him by myself. In the end, I'm quite happy with the outcome when I finally dared.

6. August Walker

Another one that I love but didn't dare to write. Until it was too tempting to add him as the vampire king in Believe in Me. And then those little pieces of smut here and here with the vampire king were surprisingly easy to write.

7. Napoleon Solo

I love the smooth spy. I had so much fun to pair him up with the lovely Amina and I totally plan to get back to Leon sometime in the future

8. Charles

I wish I had more time to explore his character. I love him so much - especially when he's put into a modern AU. I kinda did this to him as my sidekick for Melot. And I have a wip in my folders, sleeping for way too long, where he's the most annoying and yet adorable duke. I really hope I get to the point where I can introduce him to you.

That's everyone I have written for this year. But I surely don't stop here with obsessing

I won't count Geralt, Will and all the other characters of Henry Cavill because this post is already too long for anyone to read, lol.

But I surely have to count the man himself

9. Henry Cavill

Yes, I am obsessed with this man and I am not sorry! I guess I won't ever get back to the unfinished RPF that got me into writing at all but I will not stop loving the adorkable man that he is.

And then there are still some guys that don't look like Henry:

9. Dean Winchester

I had almost forgotten how much I loved him. Until I introduced the teenager to Supernatural and spent a lot of evenings this year watching that stupid little shit 😍

10. Billy Russo

One of my favorite roles for Ben. And so many good fics out there that I need to explore at some point.

11. Jack Reacher

Very recent addition to the hunks in my head. I love the new season and I'm definitely not immune to that man's visual charms.

I think I will stop here, even if I could name probably another 12...

@ellethespaceunicorn @peyton--warren @gummydummy19 @jvanilly @ronearoundblindly @ylva-syverson want to talk about your favorite characters?

[katapotato55]

how to write teenagers

disclaimer: i am in my 20's. it wasn't too long ago that i was a teenager, but admittingly i am not perfect and there might be errors.

Edit: yes i used psychonauts 2 as an example, this does not mean all examples apply to psychonauts 2. This is a GENERAL writing advice post for people who need help, and this is a collection of tropes that personally annoy me. I am playing psychonauts 2 for the first time (no spoilers not finished with the game yet ) i wont spoil anything but i will say this: the interns are fucking awful. which is bizzare because the child characters from the first game were still side characters, but had so much personality. so here is me ranting about badly written teen characters (In general media) in hopes to prevent this annoying trope

1- teenagers are not sociopathic monsters yes some teenagers are terrible. yes high school bullies are a thing. but guess what? people don't magically become horrible once they turn 13. most teens who put down and bully people have hard home lives. stop with this annoying "lol lets just bully a random stranger for no reason" trope. Its lazy. if you want a good bully character give them a deeper reason then "well teenagers are just awful!" (looking at YOU psychonauts 2)

2- actually talk to teenagers/ write for the era it takes place in while teens have simmular attitudes than previous generations, a lot of how kids in that age group think are dependent on trends. being a teenager is a very sponge-ey time in their lives. Its the part where you are old enough to understand deep topics, but not the nuance of it all. at that age, kids re often trying to learn about the world and... you guessed it, become adults. not all teenagers are rebellious "i am going to do this specifically cus i was told not to" types either. stop writing teenagers like how you saw them in the 80's. not every kid is gonna act like the cast of footloose. In my high school experience, a lot of kids my age were very chill and tended to themselves.

3- did you know that you actually retain your personality when you turn 13 ? and that not every kid is a tik tocker attention whore with a phone? who knew? did you know that SHY teenagers exist? that not all teenagers are insecure mentally insane fucks who have to bend their entire personality and thoughts JUST to get attention and to fit in? its almost as if teenagers are people with different interests and personality traits and not identical mannequins with a self image complex not every teenager is a hot topic dweller who does illegal and stupid shit for no reason. Like adults, teenagers are a tad deeper than that.

4- Teenagers are also naive and stupid sometimes. yes i know I just talked about how old people just write about the parts of teenagers they hate and nothing else, but bear with me. don't write your teen like a shorter adult. instead use this opportunity to grow the character ! this is such a malleable age for them to grow as people and i rarely see anyone utilize this! they are young and dumb and learning about the world! that is perfect breeding ground for writing! why don't people use this more?? good example of this: Homestuck. no i am not going to explan homestuck's plot. I dont have 5 years to write this post. Just know that the characters in that comic utilize the age of the characters well without making them stereotypical "ugh smartphones amirite fellow zoomers?"

5- the age of the kid MATTERS a 13 year old acting like an immature prick? yeah thats normal. people in that age tend to be edgy and annoying. 17 year old acting like an immature prick? that guy is well beyond "immature kid" age and is just a prick. The older the kid, the more impactful their actions are. A tween is more likely to grow out of traits more than a 17 year old. I roll my eyes when i see "bully teen group" trope in shows when the kids are seniors and then they expect me to forgive the kids at the end. NO. you kids are almost 18, that isn't teen angst you are all damn near adults. let me say this again: talk to teenagers if you are unsure how they act. there is a reason why its problematic for a 17 year old to date a 13 year old even though there is only a 4 year gap. teenagers develop QUICKLY as they age. a 13 year old and a 17 year old will have vastly different maturity level while a 30 yr old and a 35 year old will probably be the same level of maturity. age matters. and finally

6- stop being a condescending douche. yes. we get it. its cringe that the 14 year old kid thinks referencing death and depression is "deep" but also fuck off. this kid is growing and trying to become an adult. show some sympathy. yes. i know you think your kid's date isn't as important because said kid is going to grow out of it, but don't condescend your audience: they are at a developing age and while it doesn't matter to you, IT MATTERS TO THEM. I have always hated stuff like the hunger games and divergent. I think they are terrible series specifically made to pander to kids looking for an escapist fantasy. But you know what? these shows were not made for me, because i am not a teenager. let these kids have their fun. and if you are making a show/book/etc for teenagers, then you need to put your contempt for kids aside to actually write for them instead of acting like you are all high and mighty. (an example of this done wrong: every bad boomer comic in existence) and honestly ? if you are middle aged and you are putting down someone 1/4 your age for just exiting, it's not impressive. It's sad and pathetic and you need to rethink your life. and yes, i know people put down homestuck for being... homestuck, but homestuck has a wonderful portrayal of teenagers and how they really act. give it a read if you have literally all the freetime in the world. don't read beyond the epilogues tho. HS^2 is dead to me. thank you for reading my bullshit homies.

[lillypad910]

Making Our Home Part 2

Picks up where Part 1 left off!

Part 1

Open to writing more if requested but right now this is the end of this story. If you have any ideas on how to extend it (even just oneshots) request it and I’ll take a look! I might continue this someday, but for right now this is all for Billy and this reader.

Uses (y/n) because I hate “x readers” that are actually OCs

Word Count: 7,033 (this is all I’ve had written for this story so far, but I’m not planning on stopping it, I plan to keep writing but it won’t be as quick of a post (obviously) so do stay around if you enjoy it. If you have suggestions for what the characters should go through send me a request!

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! smut, cnc, unprotected sex, protected sex, swearing, violence, blood, abusive parents (both reader’s parents and Billy’s dad), “cheating” (Billy and reader aren’t actually dating), Billy is a jerk BUT character growth (Billy gets better I promise, so does Reader’s dad I definitely projected my own daddy issues, so I apologize in advance), pet names (Doll, Daddy (only once for tease), slut, whore)

Summary:

A/N: This is part two of the story I’ve been working on for over a year now, and I think I finally got it to where I’m comfortable to share. This part has way more smut so be prepared, part one was CHILL in comparison (When did this become a WHORE HOUSE!?)

Walking downstairs in your pjs the next morning, you catch your mom angrily walking out of the house. The front door slams making you flinch. You wander into the kitchen only to see your dad at the counter. “Good morning, Pumpkin.” He greets you with a smile. “I think your mom was mad to see me, you know, awake.” He glances at the door. You stare at him, shocked he’s there. “I’m making pancakes, wanna help?” You blink for a moment, before slowly nodding your head. He hands you the spatula.

You flip the pancake and move it to the plate when it’s finished, slapping a chunk of butter on top after dipping out another onto the pan. “Good morning, sleepy head.” You hear your dad’s voice chirp. You turn around to see Penny stepping into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with a fist and holding her stuffed bear under her arm. “Wanna help us make breakfast?” She nods before walking over. He scoops her up onto his hip and asks her to hold the bowl while he whisks eggs.

After breakfast is made, you all sit around the table. “So, I forgot to ask last night, but I wanted to know, seeing any boys?” Your dad asks. You hesitate when grabbing a pancake from the plate in the center of the table. “Um, no,” you mumble, “no, not really.” He glances between you and your little sister, “No? You mean to tell me that my beautiful daughter has no boys wrapped around her finger?” His mouth hangs open, shock plastered across his face. You let yourself giggle and so does Penny.

You debate on telling him about Billy, wondering if he’s worth mentioning to your dad. You’ve been seeing Billy for a while, practically living in his bed now, but you aren’t dating.

“Well…” you start, cutting off a piece of pancake, “there is one guy…” you mumble. Your dad perks up, if he was a dog, his ears would have been up in the air. “Oh?” He raises a brow. “Yeah…” “Who’s the guy?” Your dad asks. You feel your cheeks heat up a bit.

“Um, his name is Billy, Billy Hargrove.” “Hargrove?” “Yeah, uh, his family moved here in October, so… you wouldn’t know him.” You explain. Your dad nods. “Well when do I meet him?” You snap your head up at him and he laughs. “Do I not get to?”

You look down at your food, poking at the eggs on your plate. “I mean… I don’t know. We’re nothing serious.” You express. He squints his eyes at you. “Like flirting?” “Yeah…” you mumble. You know damn well you’ve done more than flirt, but how do you tell your suddenly sober dad you’ve been sleeping with a boy for comfort? You dont.

After sitting on the couch watching Penny’s cartoons all morning, you all crowd into the old truck parked in the garage. You can’t help but feel a blissful joy crowd you as you sit in the one row of the truck, your little sister sitting in the middle while your dad drives.

You pull into the diner and all hop out. You walk in and immediately slid into a seat by the window. Your old seat.

Neil Hargrove pulls the car into the parking lot, a sigh leaving him. He steps out of the car, followed by Susan and Max. Billy takes a deep breath before stepping out of the car. “Go grab us a table, will you?” Neil asks his wife, who nods and throws her arm around her daughter, taking her into the diner. Neil waits for them to go into the door, before turning and shoving Billy against the side of the car.

“I better not hear any sort of disrespect come from your mouth today. Got it?” He snares at Billy. “No shit talking, no bad mouthing. You better fucking behave.” Billy nods, “Yes sir.” He mumbles, his dad glares at him. “What was that?” He grips tighter around Billy’s collar. Billy takes in a deep breath, “Yes. Sir.” His voice trying hard not to shake. “Good.” His dad pulls away and walks towards the doors.

When Billy steps into the diner he pans the tables, spotting you at a booth with two others. He stares for a moment before turning and walking towards his family. “Billy, isn’t that-“ Max goes to speak, but stops herself when Billy glares at her. He looks over at you, your smile brighter than he’s ever seen. You look genuinely happy.

He recognizes the man across from you. The hair gives him away, being the same color as yours, also helps that he’s seen the guy sprawled out over your couch every damn time he came over.

Neil’s eyes fallow his son’s gaze, landing on you. “Ah, the whore you sleep with every other night? What’s her name? I swear you bring home too many to count.” Billy glares at his dad. “(Y/n),” Susan calmly says with a smile. “She’s nice. I met her in the hall one evening.” Billy felt something pull around his heart for a moment. “She is nice.” Max states.

You chat with your dad for a while, giggling when Penny blows bubbles into her milk. When your dad tries to finally get her to stop in a very calm parental way, you take the moment to look over the diner. You haven’t been here since you were little. The neon lights still hang on the wall, a jukebox sits in the corner, next to the bathroom. Your gaze pans over to a table. Your eyes meet Billy’s and you both quickly look away, you’re shocked to see him there.

Billy glances between his dad and you, his nerves grow in a pit in his stomach. “Billy, for fuck’s sake, pay attention.” His dad growls at him. He stares at his old man, not happy to be here. He keeps glancing at you, your smile lightening up the room. God, what he would do to have you in his bed-

Neil abruptly stands and everyone at the table looks at him. “That’s enough.” He says, staring at his son. Susan glances between the two, not sure what to do. “Neil, honey, sit down.” She tries to smooth things over. “No, he’s gonna be staring at that bitch all afternoon.” Neil walks over to your table, you notice him before your dad does, your heart dropping to the floor.

“Hi,” Neil holds out his hand to your dad, “Neil Hargrove, pleasure.” Your dad looks at you, but you keep your eyes on Neil, threatened by his presence. “(D/n) (l/n), the pleasure is all mine.” Billy slowly stands from their table, he doesn’t wanna push his dad, but he will fucking shatter him if he tries anything.

“I just saw little (y/n) here, and thought, oh, haven’t seen her in a bit, let me go say hi.” Neil chuckles. You glance behind him to Billy, practically begging for him to come get his dad away from yours. Billy steps forward but Susan steps faster, “Neil, let’s just go-” Neil waves her off. “No no, I’m not finished.”

Your dad looks at you confused, his light hearted smile dropping when he sees your worried face. “You know, (y/n), it’s been a while, when was it, yesterday?” His voice is loud, filling up the entire diner. “Neil, seriously, let’s just go.” “How was your night? Better or worst than your last? Honestly I can’t explain how well I slept last night.”

Max stands awkwardly by their table, Billy now steps up, “Dad, can we just go.” He asks, trying to place himself physically in between you and his dad. “No, I’m not fucking finished.” He places his palm on Billy’s chest and shoves him out of the way.

“Slept better with out your moans screaming through the wall-“ before anyone else could react, Billy had his dad pinned against the wall, gripping his jacket tightly in his hands. You stand to your feet, your dad following. “Enough.” Billy’s voice is deep, dripping with anger. “Or fucking what? You’re gonna beat the shit out of me?” Neil glares at his son. “Billy,” your voice calls out to him.

You wanna get out of there, go home and lock yourself in your room. Your perfect Saturday now ruined by Neil Hargrove.

“If you fucking talk shit about her again, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Billy’s voice stabs through his dad. Susan steps towards you. “I’m so sorry,” she looks over at your dad, “please ignore my husband, he has some… unresolved issues.” Susan smiles softly. You feel ashamed, embarrassed. You wanna just run out as fast as you can. “Susan Hargrove, please I’m so very sorry to interrupt your lunch-“ you squeeze yourself out of you seat and step towards Billy and Neil.

“Will you two please stop acting like fucking children for once.” You glare at them both. Neil glares back. “Tell this worthless kid to let go of me.” Billy’s grip tightens, but you place your hand on his arm. “Billy, please, not in front of my dad.” You beg. He hesitates, before finally dropping his dad.

“Well today has been eventful…” your dad mumbles. You lay your head against Billy’s shoulder, finally relaxing again. A soft thank you leaves your lips.

Sitting in your dad’s truck on the way home was the most awkward car ride you’ve ever done. Your dad was silent, which scared you. You didn’t want him to go home and drink again just because you have a shitty boyfriend- well not boyfriend. When the truck parks, you all pile out and go inside, you go straight upstairs to your room, shutting and locking it. You watch your vision blur as you lay down on your bed.

“Yeah, we all do, Doll.” He leaves the window open by a crack before climbing over the bed and hovering over you. “You looked really happy today, I-“ he hesitates, “I’m sorry he ruined your lunch.” You stare up at him, shocked to hear the word sorry leave him.

Billy never apologizes for anything. At least not in words. Billy focuses on action, well more sex. He’s always made it up to you through it.

“Thats the first time you have verbally apologized.” You mumble, a soft smile forming on your lips. “Well, don’t get used to it.” You let yourself giggle before cupping his face and pulling him in to a kiss.

Billy is shocked at first, not used to softer kisses. He angles himself to be on top of you, your legs now placed at his waist as he deepens the kiss. His hand places under your thigh and you let out a soft hum. He moves away from your lips and moves kisses down your jaw and neck.

He’s being so gentle. So kind. You don’t hate it, and you definitely don’t want him to stop.

“Billy…” his name fumbled out of your lips so easily. Billy grinds himself against you, earning a shaky breath to leave you. “Please…” you moan, running your hands through his curly hair.

Billy places his other hand on your back, lowering himself to your collarbone, he leaves soft kisses along your skin. He pulls away to look down at you, to see the mess he’s put you in.

Your face is all flushed, eyes soft, staring back at him with such love. He looks at the skin he’s been kissing, red marks where his lips were placed. “God, Doll. You look so hot.” He leans down again and presses his lips to yours once more. He lifts your shirt and parts just enough to slip the shirt off your form, before smashing his lips back to yours.

Your moans fill his ears, he goes lower, kisses across your chest and shoulders. You shift under him, his hands laying firmly on your hips. “B-Billy, please…” you beg. He knows you want him, but he wants to be gentle this time, make you feel good and loved. He loops his fingers under the hem of your jeans, pulling them down, continuing to place soft kisses over your stomach.

You allow yourself to close your eyes, lingering in his touch. This man had you wrapped around his finger, but you would never admit that.

He leans up, lifting you up off your bed. You wrap your left arm around his neck, placing your right hand on his cheek. You kiss his other cheek before leaving a trail down his neck. He unhooks your bra and leans you back down. He pulls it off before placing soft kisses along your breasts.

You whimper under him, just wanting him to burry himself in you. “Billy…” your voice is soft, mesmerizing by him. “Patience, Doll. I’m not finished yet.” He places a line of kisses down your stomach.

You arch your back to try pressing your body more into him, just craving his touch more. Billy pulls down your underwear, before placing soft kisses along your inner thigh.

You mumble small curse words under your breath, not used to this kind of treatment. You sit up abruptly, reaching for his face, and he lets you pull him back up to yours. “Billy, please. I need you.” You beg.

He smirks and unbuckles his belt before pulling down his pants. He follows them up with his boxers. Pressing himself against you, he holds you to his chest, your legs wrapped around his waist. Your hands roam his chest and loosely sling around his neck, bracing yourself for him to get rough.

He pushes in, gentle and slow, leaving you trying to muffle your moans into his shoulder. When he’s fully in, he places a kiss on your forehead. “Just relax, ok?” He mumbles. You nod, snuggling into him. He thrusts slowly at first, but picks up his pace a bit after hearing your whimpers.

It takes everything in him not to fuck you into your mattress, but he holds back, wanting to do this one fucking thing in his life right. “Fuck, (y/n).” His groans are soft, going straight to your ear. You run your fingers through his hair before landing your palm on his cheek, turning his head to you. You place your lips on his, savoring every moment of this.

He kisses you back, trying hard to not buck into you. “Fuck…” he mumbles, gripping at your waist. You grind your hips down into him, “Faster…” you beg. He obliges, picking up speed but not too much. You moan, hiding your face into his neck, a bit of drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Billy, please, harder…” you beg, your legs starting to shake from the slow torture. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before leaning you back onto the bed.

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck, placing your foreheads together. He quickens, now thrusting into you like he normally does. You toss your head back from the pleasure, happy to finally have enough friction.

“Billy, I’m gonna…” you moan as his thrusts become irregular, signaling to you that he’s close. “Let it out, Doll. Don’t hold in.” His voice speaks softly. You don’t, allowing yourself to release, melting into him. He continues to thrust letting you ride your high, until he finishes, spilling into you.

He drops onto you, his full weight practically crushing you. “Billy,” you hesitate before running your hand through his hair. “Billy, you’re crushing me.” You mumble, trying to catch your breath. He sits up, and sits your legs down onto the bed. He stands and puts on his boxers.

Of course. You watch him pull out a cigarette from his pant pocket and lighting it. This man just gently fucked you, but you still don’t get aftercare. You lean your head back into your pillows. “I should probably get back home.” Billy states. You think for a moment before sitting up and staring at him. “You could stay…”

He looks down at you, his eyes meet yours, a soft, kind look stares back at him. He loves that look. “You sure?” He asks. You nod and pull back your covers. He picks up something off the ground before throwing them at you. Your underwear and his shirt now lays in front of you. You slip them both on before crawling into bed. He snuffs out his cigarette before tossing it out your window, climbing into bed with you. You go to lay turned away from him but his arm slips under your head. You turn around to glance at him and he gestures for you to turn fully.

You do so, laying your head into his chest, his other arm lays over your waist, his thumb rubbing circles into your side. “Goodnight, Billy…” you mumble looking up at him. He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. “Goodnight, Doll.”

You wake up to your bed empty. You sigh, your arm slings over to the spot Billy was laying just a couple hours ago. You glance at your window, seeing the moon swap through your sheer curtains. You shove your face into the pillow he was laying his head on. It still smells like him.

Your door opens and you jump, quickly pulling your blankets up to cover you. You sigh in relief when Billy enters. “What the hell, Billy. You scared the shit out of me.” You breath. He closes the door.

“I just used the fucking bathroom.” “Yeah, well remember my dad is sober, Billy. He’s not just passed out on the couch right now.” “Yeah, your parents bedroom door was open. I just went to the bathroom down the hall.” He whispers. You look over towards the window again, trying to steady your heart beat.

“Hey,” Billy walks over and sits on the bed. “You ok?” He brushes your hair out of your face. You stare at him confused. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask. “You just look off.” He speaks. He gets up and picks up his jeans off the floor. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and takes one out, lighting it. “Do you really have to smoke in here?” You ask, rolling your eyes at him. “You never cared before.” He leans against your dresser.

“You look pretty in my clothes.” He stares at you, his eyes wander over your body, liking how the fabric of his shirt looks over sized on you. You look down at your form, you like wearing his clothes. It always feels comforting and warm, like home. You hold out your hands at him, making him raise a brow. “What?” “Come here.” You simply state.

Billy stares at you, seriously considering the offer to curl into your form and just let you hold him, to breath in everything about you. He loves the idea, but he also knows it’s out of character for him. He’s not some smitten teenager who just wants to be held. He’s Billy. Billy Hargrove, a man who sleeps and flirts with everyone. But you’re different, you’ve always been different, he sees that much now. But he refuses to let you know it, thinking it’ll just go to your head.

He lets out a light hearted chuckle. “What, so I’m your boyfriend now?” You lower your arms back into your lap and look at them, fumbling with your fingers. The wall was back up. “You don’t have to be rude.” You tell him. He scoffs, “Well maybe you should think before trying to coddle me. I’m not a fucking child.” He glares at you. You feel your eyes water, you lay back down in your bed, turning to have your back facing him. “Fuck off, Billy.” You pull the covers over you, shoving your cheek into the pillow.

Trying to steady your breathing, you lay silent in your bed, tears slowly blinking out of your eyes. You hated when he’s like this, all defensive. It pisses you off. You try to open up to him, try to get him to open up, even just once, and he reverts, crawling back into his barricades.

Billy stares at your form, your curves just visible under the comforter on your bed. He doesn’t know how to accept love, how to just lean into you and let you love on him. He lives for your touch but he refuses to lean into it. He sighs, flicking the sizzled out cigarette bud out your window before picking up his clothes from the floor. He pulls up his pants. “I’m heading out.” He simply states, buckling his belt. “Keep the god damn shirt.” He steps out of your window and leaves.

Billy looks back up at your window one final time, before walking back to his car he parked down the road, before driving himself home.

The following day goes pretty well, staying home and spending time with your sister, playing with her and watching movies. Your dad actually signs himself up for rehab, says he’s gonna give up alcohol. You want to believe him, you know he’s at least gonna try, but you won’t get your hopes up.

He doesn’t push you to talk about yesterday, doesn’t ask about it at all, actually. You think he knows you don’t want to talk about it.

As the day closes out, your dad finally sits you down in your room. You know it’s gonna come, you know he’s gonna ask, you know it’s bothering him. “So, Billy…” he glances at you. You look away not wanting to meet his gaze, letting a soft laugh escape you. “Damn, thought I was safe.” He chuckles at you. “I’m not gonna pry, I don’t wanna do that. You’re a grown up, but you’re still my little girl too. If you wanna talk about it, we can, but we don’t have to. Just know I’m here.” He pats his hand on your knee and you nod.

“Hey,” you look up at him, catching his eyes, “Would you…” he hesitates, “look, I know I’ve been a shitty dad for a while, but I really wanna try to be better. So I’m gonna ask you for your opinion on something.” You nod at him, gesturing him to continue. “I’m gonna divorce your mom.” Your eyes light up.

You hate your mom, all she’s been is trouble for your family since day one. The whole reason your dad started drinking in the first place.

“I wanna take her to court, try to fight for custody over Penny.” He explains. He watches your facial expressions carefully. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I don’t wanna cause any more pain for you girls.” “Yeah,” you say, “I think you should, I mean,” you let out a soft chuckle, “you know I hate her, and I’ll stand up for you in court. She can’t argue for me, I’m already 17.“

He presses his lips together, forming a fine line, “Yeah, but Penny isn’t, so I’m gonna need some help there.” “Like what? I mean, Dad, you’ve already gotten a better resume than mom does just in the last two days.” You raise your hand and move it around as you speak, “you stopped drinking on your own, signed up for rehab to get help in order to stay sober, you’re gonna start looking for a job tomorrow. You aren’t the person who broke our family, Dad. She is.” You tell him. He nods.

“I just know it’s gonna be a hard win, but I wanted to make sure you know I’m trying. That I want to do better. And I want you to help stay up on me, watch me, make sure I’m staying sober, no beer in the house.” He smiles at you, and you smile back. “I’ve failed enough as a dad, so I wanna do better.” You nod and he holds out his arms to you, “now come here, Pumpkin.”

After a long hug, he lets you crawl into bed and tucks you in, kissing your forehead as though you were only a child again. You don’t mind, happy to be receiving affection again.

You wake up on Monday, feeling oddly refreshed. You get dressed in your usual clothes, before going downstairs and popping some bread into the toaster. Your dad comes downstairs, freshly showered and dressed, greeting you with a smile. “Good morning, Sunshine!” He pulls your head to him, kissing your forehead. “Did you sleep alright?” He asks, putting on a pot of coffee.

“Yeah, I did actually. Probably better than I have for a while.” You admit. He smiles and ruffles your freshly neatened hair, but you don’t mind. “Well, that’s good.” He smiles.

You open your house door to see Billy’s car pulled into your driveway. You take a deep sigh and climb into his passenger seat.

When you make it to school, you ignore him, walking straight inside. “Hey,” Billy calls out, following after you, “(y/n), hey!” He grips your arm and snatches you to turn to him. “What the hell? I’ve been trying to talk to you all morning?” “I’m not in the mood, Billy.” You explain, rolling your eyes at him.

After a couple of classes, you make your way to the bathroom. You enter the girl’s restroom only to hear grunting and moaning coming from one of the stalls. You roll your eyes, stepping in. You sit your bag down by the door and step into a stall, only to hear the girl speak up. “Fuck, Billy…” you freeze. You’re not dating. Your brain reminds you. You step back out and grab your bag. Before you go to leave however, you decide to be a bit bitchy for a change.

Walking over to the stall you know Billy and who-ever-the-slut is in, you bang your hand against the stall door, hard. Then you walk out, without looking back.

Billy groans at the banging on the stall door, glaring at it. After hearing the main door squeak open and shut again, he can’t focus now. He can’t just get back to fucking the girl around his waist. He drops her to her feet, making her stumble a bit. “Fucking jackass.” He mumbles. “We can just continue, they are gone.” “No, I’ve lost my mood now.” Billy glares at the door, even though he knows no one is there.

At the end of the day, you beat Billy out to his car, leaning against the hood. “Hey, have fun in the bathroom earlier?” You ask him. His eyes darken. “You bitch.” “All I did was bang on a door, you were banging more than that, asshole.” You go to open the door to the passenger side but it was locked. “Billy, unlock the car.” You tell him. You don’t bother looking up at him.

Billy comes around the vehicle to your side. He lifts his hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Remember where you stand, Doll. You’re not my girlfriend.” “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Thanks for the obvious.” You glare at him. He moves his hand swiftly to wrap around your neck, catching you off guard. His fingers tighten around your throat making you flinch. “Billy, stop.” You tell him.

He pushes you against the car, hand firmly placed around your throat. He raises his other hand and points at you. “Don’t you dare get snappy with me again, you hear me? It’s fucking annoying.” His hand tightens and panic and fear sets in to your stomach. Your hand flies up to grip at his wrist. “Billy, stop, that hurts.” You tell him. He lets go and you take in a sharp breath. He unlocks the car and goes back around. You place your fingers against your throat as your vision starts to blur.

You quickly sit into the car and prop your elbow in the door, staring out. “Not gonna talk to me now?” Billy glares at you. You try to hold back as a tear falls down your cheek.

“Hey,” Billy waves his hand in front of you. “Speak.” You hold back your tone. “Just drive me home.” You state. He scoffs. “No please? What did we just talk about, Doll?” “Billy.” You look at him, your tears staining your cheeks. “For fuck’s sake just drive me home. My house.” You glare at him. You watch his eyes soften slightly after seeing that you’re crying. You turn back around and place your forehead against the window.

When Billy drives past your neighborhood, you sigh. “I said my home, Billy. I’m not being your fuck buddy tonight.” You glare at him. “God, you’re so fucking emotional, calm down. You’re not going to be.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re just…” he hesitates before letting out a deep sigh, “I don’t like that you’re mad at me, like more than usual mad. I don’t wanna take you home like that.”

He pulls up into his driveway, you step out of the car and make your way inside going straight to his room. He follows you in, making sure his dad is minding his own fucking business. You enter Billy’s room and throw yourself onto his bed. You weren’t going to let him have you tonight, but that didn’t mean you had to ignore the comfort you felt laying in his bed. Billy sits his things by the door, where you had dropped your bag before hand.

“Comfortable?” He asks. You snuggle into his pillows, which makes him chuckle. You breath in the smell leaving his pillows. You may not wanna fuck him for once, but you do want comfort. A hum leaves you, pure enjoyment. Billy climbs onto the bed, leaning over you. “Doll,” he leans down and places a soft kiss on your neck, making you flinch.

You whip around to look back at him. “I’m sorry.” He whispers, “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. It was shitty of me.” You stare at him for a moment. “Yeah, it was.” You express. You don’t want to tell him it’s ok, cause it’s not.

“(Y/n),” he raises his hand and places it softly against your cheek, “God, you’re so pretty.” You feel your cheeks heat up. He leans down and presses a kiss on your cheek. You stare at him as he admires you. He hesitates for a moment before leaning down, your breath hitches and you lift your head up to connect your lips. You place your palms against his cheeks, pulling him closer to you.

Billy pushes his hands under you, lifting your back up to arch into him. He pushes up on your shirt, placing his hands on your skin. You move your hands down to his chest and push him off, not hard but just enough to give him the hint. You try to catch your breath as he places his forehead against yours. “Billy,” you mumble, “not tonight. Please.” He sighs, “I know, Doll, I just… wanna kiss you.” He leans into you again, smashing his lips into yours.

You enjoy it, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him as close to you as you can. Billy wraps your legs around his hips, kissing the corner of your mouth before leading across your jaw. “Billy,” You push slightly on his shoulders, he groans, traveling kisses down your neck, “Billy, no…” he leans away only to kiss you again. You hum into his lips. Your heart rate speeds up, he kisses along your cheeks. “Billy…” you mumble. He grinds himself against you, sending shivers down your spin.

“Doll, please I just… I need you.” He groans into your ear. You feel yourself getting warm, but you hold your ground. “Why? That other girl didn’t do it for you?” You mumble. You hear him growl over you. He grabs your wrists and pins them by your head. You stare at him, his hair hangs in front of you, same with his necklace, leaning over you. “Careful, you say you don’t wanna do anything, but you’re being such a tease right now it’s hard not to just fuck the shit out of you.” You lift your head slowly, just brushing your lips to him, a smirk forming on his lips.

“No.” You whisper before dropping back down. He glares at you. He tightens his grip on your wrists, before smashing his lips on yours again. He kisses rougher this time, shoving his tongue into your mouth and swirling it around, making you whimper. He presses a knee to you, earning a soft moan in response. He pulls away and stares at your flushed cheeks, “so easy to say no, isn’t it? But it’s even easier to make you squirm.” He lifts up and climbs off the bed. You catch your breath for a moment just laying there.

You sit up to catch him lighting a cigarette, “Do you wanna stay tonight? Or go home to Daddy?” He asks staring at you through his mirror. You hesitate. You want to stay, to be honest you do want to be fucked now. But you wanna see how much you can push him before he just takes you. You try to think up a clever comeback. “I thought you were Daddy?” You smirk, starring at him. He coughs trying to not choke on smoke.

“Don’t say shit like that when you don’t want me to fuck you.” He explains. “Why? Does it turn you on?” You stand up from his bed, walking over to him and turn him to face you, running your hands up his chest. You hear his breath shake. “Do you want me that badly, Hargrove?” You ask, looking up at him with such an innocent look. He glares at you. “You bitch.” He kisses you again, but this time he grips the hem of your shirt and pulls it up over your head.

He slams you into the mattress, before pulling down your pants and unbuckling his belt. He kisses down your neck, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling himself out. Without any hesitation, he slides your panties to the side and thrusts into you. You moan, gripping his shoulders as he pounds you in. “B-Billy…! Fuck…” your words fumble out of you mouth, followed by “Please, god.” He grinds himself deeper into you, hitting your deepest points.

You hide your face into his neck, embarrassed at how turned on this is making you. He thrusts harder, making a knot form in your stomach. “God, (y/n), fuck.” He grips your hips and moves them to slam you deeper onto him. You feel your drool build up in your mouth as your legs start to shake. You start mumbling to yourself, soft cuss words and pure pleasure mixing in your brain.

He lays you back, not slowing his pace. Your legs drop to the mattress, mind blanking. He takes one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, the other laying out as your body moves to lay on your side. This new position sends him deeper, your hand flying to cover your mouth and stifle your moans. He watches as he slams into you, “You take me so easily, Doll.” His words make you whimper.

Billy loves watching you squirm as he fucks you. He knows he’s big, filling you up easily, and he loves how you take him so easily. Billy can’t help but want to pound his dick into you until your body is cock drunk on him.

“Fuck, Doll, you’re so tight.” You feel him hit deeper, making your eyes roll back, “Billy…” you moan out, gripping at his bed. “What, Doll? Like the feeling of me hitting you deep?” He goes faster, watching you whimper under him. “God, I could fuck this pussy all fucking day.” He grips at your hips and slams you against him, wanting to get as deep in you as fucking possible. You can’t stop your legs from shaking, the need to cum on him. “Billy, please, I’m gonna…” he flips you over and lifts you so your back leans against his chest. His hand grips around your neck, his cock now making a bulge in your stomach.

You release onto him at the change of position, oozing out around his length, your juices drip down your thighs. You squeeze around him, softly begging for him to not stop. And he doesn’t, slamming up into you as your head leans back on his collarbone. You let your tongue hang out of your mouth, his cock rubbing your walls as you try to come down from you high.

“Doll, I’m gonna fuck you till your sobbing.” He grabs your hair and shoves your face into his pillows, lifting your ass into the air. He continues to fuck you in this position, your eyes tearing up from the feeling of his dick fucking you filthy. Your legs shake, his cock making your pussy raw.

You moan loudly into the pillows, your pussy now burning from all the friction. You gasp as he hits deep into you, and your pussy spasms, encasing his cock in another orgasm. He chuckles. “Such a dirty slut.”

Before you react, he leans against you, burying himself deep in your body. He spills out, holding your hips in place. You try to steady your breathing as your walls clench around him, not wanting him to pull out. “B-Billy…” your voice is like sweet honey to him. He’s fucked you silly and he knows it.

He lifts you back up to his chest and watches your body as the creamy substance leaks from you. “Do you want more, Doll?” Your drooling, saliva dribbling down your chin as you nod. You want him to fuck you. Fuck you hard. Fuck you to where it’s inhumane.

He reaches his hand down and rubs his fingers against you, feeling how full you are with his cock buried in you. “God, you are full, huh, Doll? Do you want more cum?“ you whimper in response.

Billy slams into you again and your body shakes, his arm wrapped around your waist being the only thing holding you upright. You gasp as he starts pumping into you again, your orgasm building quickly. Your legs feel like jelly as you go limp against him, his grip on you tightening to hold you up. “Such a good whore.” His voice is deep and sultry. You can’t help yourself as you finish all over his cock again.

Billy doesn’t stop pounding into you, his cock hitting your deepest places. “B-Billy…!” You grip his arm around your waist as your words become sluggish, inaudible to him. Muffled and slushed “please” and “harder” leaving your lips as he fucks you deeply. You feel yourself building up another orgasm. Your legs trembling as your pussy feels raw.

Billy thrusts up into you roughly a couple more times as you tumble over your finally orgasm of the night, body shaking from the overstimulation. Billy slams deep inside you one final time, his cum shooting deep inside. “Fuck…” he groans as he watches your body shake in his arms. He removes his arm from around your waist and you fall forward, his cock pulling out as your face hits the pillows, ass in the air.

He places his hand on your ass and slowly opens your folds, watching as his cum leaks out of your red and puffy cunt. “You’re filled to the brim, huh, Doll.” It’s not a question but you nod. He slowly runs his hands down your thighs and to your ankles, before pulling and letting your body make full contact with his bed. You hum into the pillow as you feel the mattress dip next to you. You look over as you watch Billy climb into bed.

“Sleep, Doll. You look exhausted.” He kisses a soft peck on your forehead which catches you off guard. You raise your shaky hand to his cheek as he pulls you into his chest. “I love you…” is all you can get out before sleep overcomes you.

In the morning, you wake up to your stomach hurting and your legs still feeling like jello. Billy sleeps soundly next to you, one arm under your neck and the other thrown over your waist. You place your hand on his cheek. “Billy,” you mumble, rubbing your thumb softly over his skin. A soft hum leaves him in response.

He opens his eyes and stares at you, “Morning,” he greets, before laying himself over you and snuggling into your chest. You can’t help but giggle. You glance over at the clock, it’s way past the time for school. “Are we skipping today?” You ask, brushing a hand through his hair. He hums, leaning into your touch.

Your heart soars at the contact he’s accepting from you. “I love you.” The words fumble from your lips before you can even catch yourself. He immediately looks up at you. His stare doesn’t look exactly comfortable. “You don’t have to say it back, Billy. I just want you to know that I do…” you tell him, pulling him into a soft kiss. He groans into your lips, before leaving soft kisses on your neck.

Billy feels relieved you don’t expect him to say it back, he’s comfortable just laying with you.

You stay in bed like that with him for a good hour or so, just enjoying each other’s company. You’re glad. As much as a jerk Billy Hargrove can be, you know deep down you can rely on him. He’s your home, and your his.

[starrykatamari]

Saw Lore Contained Within SAW: The Videogame

Hello! My name is Kris and today I am going to be going over all the lore bits you can find through collecting case files in the third-person action game that was made for the Saw franchise. I will only be covering the actual plot of this game very briefly, since it is basically just a gap filling narrative that ties into the movies.

I will be making a second post for Saw II: Flesh & Blood, the second third-person action game made for the franchise.

Walk with me! I wanna play a game...

TW: Sui mentions, descriptions of canon-typical violence, drug use mentions, basically it's about Saw so be careful I love you.

The first game is set directly after the first movie-- detective Tapp has been kidnapped and treated for his bullet wound, and now he has to play one of the Jigsaw Killer's games in order to let go of his obsession. Along the way he runs into some familiar faces and ultimately either ends up admitted to a mental hospital (I know. It sucks. I know I hate it too.) or taking his own life in his apartment.

There are some fun nods to some of the more popular traps in the Saw franchise– those will be included and labeled as well throughout the post. Disclaimer: I will not be covering any material that is not directly relevant to the movie franchise this game is based on. If it’s in the game and you don’t see it here, it’s skippable, I promise.

WARNING: Both this and my next post about Saw II: Flesh & Blood will be LONG. Settle in for the ride and enjoy the lore!!

Quick note before I really get into it here, and really just a fact that I personally really love: the main menu screen of this game is a 3D render of the bathroom from Saw (2004). If you navigate to the audio options menu, adjusting the volume of any of the settings causes the sound of chains rattling and someone (likely supposed to be Adam due to the dialogue used) shouting things like ‘let me out!’ or ‘I didn’t do anything!’. It’s both a hilarious and ineffective way of presenting this.

Trap Reference: The Reverse Bear Trap

Tapp wakes in a bathroom (note that this is simply a bathroom, and not the bathroom) with a reverse bear trap on his head. That’s the reference– they blow that load literally right away.

Trap Reference: The Venus Flytrap

Here we briefly see someone killed by the same trap that was featured at the beginning of Saw II.

Going to take this moment to briefly touch on the fact that Amanda is in this videogame as a non-playable character. She is being tested (again, I know) and Tapp has to save her from her test. Suffice to say that her use here is boring, extremely out of character, and just a very thin grab at a character anyone would recognize. So I won’t be getting into any of her escapades here.

Trap Reference: Razorwire Maze

Just a quick walk-by scenery element, really, this guy behind a window seems to have gotten the ol’ Paul Leahy treatment.

Case File: Partial Medical File

This seems to be a partially redacted medical file on a patient whose name is not revealed. We are obviously meant to assume that this is in reference to John Kramer– it’s just the age that gives me pause. However, we’re meant to believe that man was fifty fucking two when he died in Saw III, so it’s probably just an inconsistency in the game.

“NAME: [BLACKED OUT]

PATIENT ID #: 825-361-3127

DATE: April 14th, 1998

CONSULTATION

DOCTOR’S NOTES - Upon initial assessment, [BLACKED OUT] presents as a well-spoken man with a firm grasp upon reality. Patient 34 years old. Married for 2 years. Wife 4 months pregnant.

Denies necessity of psychological treatment, but has kept appointment at the request of his wife, who insisted on visitation due to a concern over growing isolationistic tendencies. 

Patient displays high degree of verbal acuity and is very observant. Initial tests suggest a very high IQ, with an extraordinary ability to recall facts. [BLACKED OUT] expressed pride at his intelligence and knowledge. Exhibits need to point out the weaknesses in others. Insists the behavioral changes are that of his wife who “no longer understands” him.

Patient is polite and cordial, but non-compliant. Seems to take pleasure in obfuscating answers and attempting to trick questioner. Patient’s demeanor is calm and controlled. Shows disconnect with the emotions of other individuals and general lack of empathy toward humanity. Verbally expresses true affection for his wife and expectant child, but does not outwardly display so when discussing them.

After initial consultation [BLACKED OUT] does not feel a need for future visitations. Have scheduled a follow-up appointment with the option to cancel with 24 hours notice, just in case he changes his mind. 

Patient displays tendencies towards depression and Narcissistic Personality Disorder.”

Case File: Jigsaw Survivor Found

A newspaper clipping discussing Amanda.

“Until now, the Jigsaw Killer has never left anyone alive. Amanda Young is now the first and only known survivor of the Jigsaw Killer. Details about Young are forthcoming, and she has yet to make a statement regarding her capture.”

Case File: Jigsaw Survivor Speaks

Another newspaper clipping involving Amanda.

“‘He saved my life.’ These were the words spoken by Amanda Young, only known survivor of the Jigsaw Killer, at a press conference on the steps of City Hall yesterday morning. A police spokesperson stopped Young from revealing too much from the case, but let Young talk about what she felt during that desperate time.”

Trap Reference: Shotgun Collar

Pretty straightforward! This guy begs us to get the thing off of him and then it works as intended.

Actually, we see it again just after, but this time Jigsaw has knocked Tapp unconscious and put a shotgun collar onto him as well.

Film Reference: Adam’s(?) Camera

Pictured below, Tapp will eventually encounter a camera. Written above it is the phrase ‘a picture is worth a thousand words’. Picking up said camera will give the player the ability to take a photo, activating the flash and illuminating the room for a precious few half-seconds. It’s a terrible mechanic in-game, and an obvious reference to Adam’s navigating his apartment using the same method in Saw (2004).

Trap Reference: Pendulum

Guys this one really boggles me / makes me quite mad, actually. This trap is an obvious reference to the pendulum from the beginning of Saw V. The blade is oriented at the opposite angle, though, meant to cut Jennings (a character who literally does not matter, trust me) long-ways rather than across, like Baxter. It’s a bastardization, but then I might just be biased as the resident Hoffman liker.

Case File: Negligence Leads to Officer’s Death

A newspaper clipping that is speaking about detective Sing’s death in Saw (2004), pinning the blame on Tapp for his rash actions.

“By Oswald McGillicutty

If it wasn’t bad enough that there is a killer out there mashing up taxpayers into itty bits, now we have the cops to worry about, too. To his own admission, Detective David Tapp completely disregarded process and went rogue, convincing his partner, Detective Steven Sing, to join him in an unwarranted entry to catch the Jigsaw Killer. 

Not only did they break into Jigsaw’s secret hideout without a warrant, but they didn’t wait for any backup either, probably hoping to get all the glory for themselves. Well, Jigsaw got the drop on them, slicing Tapp’s throat from ear to ear and nailing Sing in the top of the head with a double barrel shotgun. 

All of this was confirmed by witness Jeff Thomas, who was in one of Jigsaw’s little traps. He claimed Sing saved his neck, but when Tapp got sliced and Sing got blasted, good ol’ Jeff was stuck in the trap until help arrived.”

Case File: Decorated Detective Discharged

A newspaper clipping discussing Tapp’s discharge from the MPD– this one actually mentions Hoffman being the replacement for head officer on the case.

“By Oswald McGillicutty

Globe Staff Writer

Detective David Tapp, the lead officer in the Jigsaw Killer case, resigned yesterday due to unknown circumstances. The shooting death earlier this week of his partner, Detective Sing, is suspected to be a factor in the detective’s resignation, but Tapp could not be reached for comment.

‘Tapp was a fine officer and defender of the law, and we will miss him,’ was the only comment given by the police spokesperson.

Detective Mark Hoffman, a similarly decorated officer, will be taking over lead position on the case.”

Case File: Partial Medical File (2)

Another medical file seemingly written by a therapist in reference to, again, who we are probably meant to assume is John Kramer.

“PATIENT ID #: 825-361-3127

DOCTOR’S NOTES

[BLACKED OUT] continues to show up to appointments despite questioning need for psychiatric treatment. States that he ‘knows more about medicine and the mind’ than any of the staff. Mocks staff credentials and is often uncommunicative during therapy. Claims traditional psychiatric medicine fails patients by not offering them ‘real choices’.

Patient displays familiarity with psychological / psychiatric language. Patient states that he is well aware of his own childhood history and its potential psychological ramifications. Describes authoritarian, punitive father and absent, passive mother. Insists that his superior intelligence and self-control make childhood history of physical, mental and verbal abuse unimportant.

Patient denies history of his own violent and impulsive behavior, citing memory lapses. Our conversations reveal the [BLACKED OUT] often manipulates others for his own amusement. Patient shows no remorse at negative effects his behavior has on other people. Views others as objects / pawns.

Based on [BLACKED OUT]’s behavior and history, I recommend inpatient treatment. Patient refuses to consider this option.

Raise Haldol to 5 mg / twice daily. Raise chlorpromazine to 50 mg nightly.”

For those who are curious, ‘chlorpromazine’ is Thorazine, a medication used typically to treat conditions such as schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. ‘Haldol’, or ‘haloperidol’ is also typically used to treat schizophrenia.

Film Reference: ‘X Marks the Spot’

Very straightforward, just writing on the wall instructing Tapp to find the ‘X’ that marks ‘the spot’. Clear reference to one of the tapes’ clues from Saw (2004).

And there you have it! That is all of the relevant lore and a few of the references to the films in Saw: The Videogame. My recommendation is this: if you are a Saw fan, please do yourself a favor and find a nice, no-commentary longplay of this game to watch. It’s hilariously bad, but if you’re a diehard Sawliker you might find some real good laughs there for you.

Thanks for reading, and look out for my post on Saw II: Flesh & Blood– I’ll probably start working on it right after this one is posted! The second game has MUCH more relevant lore about a lot of characters (some of which we don’t get much info on to begin with), so please stay tuned! I’ll link it in an edit of this post once it’s done.

Oh, and if you have any questions or anything funny to share in reference to this game, PLEASE don't hesitate to send me an ask! I'm basically a font of knowledge about these two spinoff games. :)

Have a good one! Remember to cherish your life! <3

EDIT: The post is done for Saw II: Flesh & Blood! Read it here!

[bar-of-dish-soap]

im not sure if this is like super obvious or anything but. methinks the. organization? company? whatchamacalit? that kentaro, bill and hiroshi formed feels very similar to one certain anti-monarch organization that releases the Big Baddies in king of the monsters. god its so annoying that they don’t have a name (that I know of!) but i guess ill just call them the Guys for now, and this new organization Bill and the Randas (new band name just dropped)

keep in mind its been a minute since I’ve watched KOTM sooooo

1. my first evidence that the Guys = bill and the randas: vibes. like yeah idk i just think theyd do that, i think they’d do some sort of connection like that

2. close ties to monarch!!!! bill and Hiroshi are both ex-monarch, and they all got fucked over by them

3. funding from apex. in the KOTM post credits scene, the Guys get the decapitated head of king gidorah, which I believe apex uses to help development of mechagodzilla??? i think??? i havent watched GvK bear with me here

4. this show ends 2 years before KOTM (bc of the 2 year time jump) which I feel like is enough time for “bill and the randa boys“ to get fucked up into the Guys with that weird old bitch in charge

5. the randa girls (may included. they’re married i don’t make the rules) being tied up in shit woth the Guys would explain why they’re not working with monarch by KOTM (yes yes, KOTM was made before these characters existed but. shh.)

some other interesting things I noticed:

that man is not fuckign dead. that fall probably didn’t kill him. every day in hollow earth is a roughly a year on the surface (keiko estimated she was there for 57 days, she was gone for 56 years, pretty simple math) so he could definitely show up in Godzilla x Kong, which I think takes place in 2024? so like he would just be there for a few days. then also monarch finds a better way to travel to hollow earth in that time, so they could find a way to bring him back

absolutely no fucking clue what to make of a big monkey being there. was that kong? it must be right? cuz hes the last of his kind and whatnot i think. anyway yeah they’re in skull island so cool

i am so normal about this show