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#I don't have a brain to paper filter
retrievablememories · 7 months
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cherry bomb | jungkook (m)
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pairing: jungkook x fem reader
summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.
genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au
word count: 7.1k
warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!
a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings
sources for the fic dividers: one | two
link to part 2
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CHERRY BOMB
don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.
virgins get in free!
THIS FRIDAY
NOV 3, 20XX
[address here]
"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"
"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."
camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."
"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”
“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”
“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."
"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.
"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."
your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.
she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”
"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."
camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."
you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."
--
FRIDAY, NOV 3
taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.
the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.
the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.
you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.
"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.
"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."
"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."
well, you won't argue that.
you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.
you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.
"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.
you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.
"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"
the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.
"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.
jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"
"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.
"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"
"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.
jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."
unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.
but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.
he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.
"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.
knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.
“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.
jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.
jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.
“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.
he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.
you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.
"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”
jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.
jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.
“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”
with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.
he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”
you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.
as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.
jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.
your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”
you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.
taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.
the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.
the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.
the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.
jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”
“wh-what?”
“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”
it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.
you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.
when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.
“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”
jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”
you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.
then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.
having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.
“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.
jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”
jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.
“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”
this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.
jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.
after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.
…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.
“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.
but now’s not the time to get delusional.
“no. i want more.”
jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."
“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.
you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.
you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.
you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.
“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.
“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.
you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”
sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”
he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.
his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.
“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.
“no, i—let’s go all the way.”
jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”
when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.
“yeah,” you say breathlessly.
it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.
“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.
“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”
jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”
he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.
your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”
your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”
you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.
“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.
“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.
"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.
his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.
his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.
“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.
jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.
jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.
you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"
"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"
you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.
"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.
"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.
jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.
the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”
you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…
the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.
the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.
to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.
you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.
the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.
a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.
you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.
you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.
thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.
he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.
when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.
"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."
"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.
"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"
"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."
“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"
unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.
sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.
you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.
“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.
the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.
the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”
“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.
“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.
you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.
for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.
you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”
“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”
“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.
there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.
“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.
after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.
“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.
“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”
nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”
changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”
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jayke0 · 16 days
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Nicotine Lust
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Summary: Your attempts to keep your smoking kink under wraps become futile once you're reassured that your boyfriends’ lungs aren't at stake.
A/N: I couldn't stop thinking about @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction 's smoking Steven, so i wanted to do smth from Jake's perspective ❤️.
Also if you know which tiktok lady Jake’s talking about then bonus points to you!
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: smoking, afab reader!, g/n nicknames, I've never smoked so forgive me if literally all of it is wrong, blowjob, face fucking, ‘fucktoy’ nickname, ‘slut’ nickname, Dom!Jake, Sub!Reader, p in v, unmentioned protection, riding, doggy style, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 4,020 (yeah… I'm pretty sure this is my longest fic yet.😅)
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily. And Fen ofc ofc.
…………………………………......................………….
You hate to admit it, but when Jake smokes, it's like an automatic switch is clicked in your brain; like you're literally being turned on.
It's wrong, so so wrong. You don't want to be getting turned on by something that is ultimately ruining your boyfriend's lungs, all three of your boyfriends’ lungs.
It's only when you mention it to him one day that he settles your worries.
“The suit heals ‘em.”
“What?? For real?”
“ ‘Course! That's the whole point of it.”
You raise a brow. “It's not for you to heal your black lung.”
“Well no, but it's for healin’, ain't it?” He pulls out his packet of tobacco and places it on the windowsill, along with his papers. His fingers work meticulously as he lays out the paper and lines up the tobacco, sprinkling it onto the paper like he's decorating fucking cupcakes with chocolate sprinkles.
“I thought ya liked it anyway.”
You have to drag your eyes away from the man's hands as he rolls the cylinder between his fingers. “What? No... that's weird.”
Your boyfriend cocks an eyebrow at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? So that look that ya give me, or the way ya watch my hands ain't got nothin’ to do with ya gettin’ all hot and bothered?” He brings it to his lips, running his tongue along the edge of the paper in a way that makes your cheeks heat up and your arms fold over your chest defensively.
Jake is easily the best at reading you and your body, especially when it comes to your not-so-subtle arousal.
Your eyes move back to his hand, watching him push the filter into the end with his middle finger before rolling the other end shut.
“No, I just find it interesting. It's good for me to know how to roll a cig… I guess.” Your words trail off as you realize how dumb that sounds; there's no way in hell that Jake lockley is going to believe that lie.
“For who? Ya side piece?” He jokes, the smirk turning into a full-grown grin while he brings the now formed cigarette to his lips. It's only when he flips open his lighter and the flame lights up the end that you come to the conclusion there's no point in hiding it… not now that you know they're safe.
“Alright!... I like it, is that what you wanted?”
“Show me.” His lips are pressed together tightly to keep the cigarette in place, but he's learnt how to talk out of the gap in his lips.
“Excuse me?”
“Show me how much ya like it.” The man's voice is deeper now as he pulls the cigarette from his lips and exhales a cloud of smoke, considerately not blowing it in your direction; and fuck if it doesn't make you squirm.
You want to sink to your knees right there, rip his black jeans from his thick thighs and suck him dry, but your stubbornness stops you. “I'm not some kinda fuck toy, Jake!”
“Ya weren't sayin’ that last night, were ya?” The cigarette meets his lips again and his chest expands as he takes in a long drag, not being as considerate with where he blows it this time.
You irritatedly waft the smoke away from your face, but his gaze, oh lord the way his eyes glare at you, a dark stare that pushes you to your knees anyway as if he has the fucking force. Resting your hands on his knees, you part them slowly, keeping your eyes transfixed on his as you slide your hands up his bulky thighs and over his crotch, all while he takes another drag.
“Good fucktoy.” He says with a playful tone as he pets your head condescendingly, the name and gesture ultimately turning you on more while you toy with his belt buckle to pry his jeans open. “Eager, ain't we? I love it when you're this eager, mi vida.”
The smell of the smoke is starting to sting your nostrils, but all worries of second-hand smoke fade when you pull his boxers down his thighs and reveal his half hard cock. “I'm not the only eager one," you raise a brow at him, taking his hardening length in your hand to hear a soft groan from him.
“Oh c'mon, what guy doesn't love gettin’ his dick sucked? Especially from a slut as pretty as you, cariño.” His thumb runs over your cheek, and then your bottom lip. “Now, open up for me, okay?”
His hand replaces yours as you obediently open your mouth and lean forward, wanting to feel him grow hard in the heat of your mouth. His length is heavy on your tongue, the familiar tang of his skin and pre-cum making you hum softly to send vibrations through his cock, resulting in a pleasured grunt from the man.
“Mmm that's good… good angel…”
The calmness in his voice and the way his shoulders drop indicate that even his trusty old cigarettes can't relax him like you can. You always know exactly what makes him tick, what buttons to press to get him coming down your throat in minutes, but despite that, he continues to take drags from his damn deathstick.
Your eyes are fixated on his lips as he brings it to his mouth again, holding it loosely between his two fingers before inhaling the nicotine. He meets your gaze, a shallow thrust from his impatient hips making you pull back with an annoyed squeal; you're not willing to admit how turned on you also get when they're impatient with you, though you're like 90% sure that Jake has caught on anyway, as usual. A string of drool falls from your lips and lands on his head, spreading down the thick, tanned length before your lips follow.
“Thaaat’s it, just like that, darlin’.” He groans, feeling your lips stretch and the warmth of your mouth envelop him. His fingers caress your hair before his large hand eventually comes to rest on the back of your head; an exciting threat that he could push you down on his girth at any point.
Of course, though, he doesn't. He's more patient and collected than the other two, even when you manage to relax your throat and sink all the way down on him.
“Oooh cariño, that's new. Ya been practicin’?” Jake's back arches off of the window, his cigarette back between his lips so his hand can join the other on the back of your head. You pull off with a pant, nodding proudly, “Steven loved letting me practice on him, did you know he's into throat training?”
Your words warrant a growl from your boyfriend as he tightens his grip on your scalp. “C’mooon, stop teasin’ me,” his lip is cocked up in a scowl as he take another drag from his cig and blows it out.
You don't spend any more time fucking around, your own thighs pressing together just from the situation and sight in front of you. You lower your head on him, but don't take him fully, wrapping your hand around what you can't fit in your mouth so you can start bobbing your head. Your tongue glides over his slit each time you almost pull off, with just your lips wrapped around the blunt tip before you dive back down.
“Fuuuck, that's so good. Shit you're so good at that, mi vida.” His praises go straight to your core, making you speed up your actions.
The man tilts his head back and takes the cig out of his mouth, the end now getting dangerously close to his fingers, but he couldn't care less, all he cares about is the wet heat of your mouth already pushing him closer and closer to his orgasm. He takes one last drag and puts out the butt as it reaches his fingers, taking in a sharp inhale when you deepthroat him again just as it burns his finger tips. “Such a good fucktoy, goddamn angel…”
His groans get louder, your head now bobbing up and down on him rhythmically as you twist your fist around his throbbing length in just the right way.
Hand joining the other, he pushes you down once, then twice. “Just a little more darlin’, ya can do it, I know ya can—,” his pants are heavy, low moans cut off by gasps. “Gonna come down that pretty throat, just a little further, sweetheart.” You feel his hips lift off the window sill and towards your face, the gesture making you choke a bit before you take him fully again, fingernails digging into his plump thighs enough to leave marks as your face scrunches up.
It's only a few more seconds and he's coming down your throat, just as he said he would. You can barely taste the saltiness as he moans loudly, adam's apple bobbing in his throat with his back arched enough to feel his tummy on your forehead. You pull off after a few moments with gasps, your chest rising and falling quickly as you take in the air you'd briefly missed out on.
“Ay cariño… ‘m sorry, are ya ok?” Jake's gaze is still lidded and dopey, though a lot softer now, and you feel his thumb run over your cheek.
“Yes,” you say hoarsely, giggling afterwards at the sound of your voice while you wipe the spit from your chin. “It was hot. I liked it, honey, don't worry.”
He sighs, a smile replacing the worried frown his had on his face just seconds before. “Ah, good, angel,” he leans down and kisses you, not caring about the taste of himself on your lips. “You owe me an orgasm though.” You mumble on his lips, feeling the low chuckle rumble in his chest as he joins you on the floor without even pulling away from your plump lips.
”I can do that, cariño.”
+.。゚:;。+゚+。::゚。:.゚。+。+.。゚:;。+゚+。::゚。:.゚。
Jake hasn't been out since that morning, and now it's getting to 3 days, and you're worried.
Did your odd little kink freak him out? Maybe the thought that his lover gets off on him damaging his lungs made him uncomfortable.— No, that's not the sexy part, because that WOULD be weird. It's watching him carefully, masterfully, assemble the tobacco. Watching the way he rolls it between his thick digits and runs his tongue over the edge before lighting it. You'd noticed how his eyes close in satisfaction with that first drag, and how his eyelids lower to a more relaxed manner, giving him that deadly lidded gaze that is sure to be the death of you.
The presence creeping up behind you breaks your train of thought, and you sigh contentedly as you feel large, warm hands run over your shoulders tenderly. You drag your eyes away from the tv screen to tilt your head back and look at one of your boyfriends, whichever one it is.
Jake always insisted on growing his facial hair out, but Marc and Steven are so strongly against it that you'd think they have some kind of personal vendetta against it. That being said, it's hard to tell them apart sometimes, especially when you're looking at them upside down.
“Hello, handsome.”
“Hello, angel.”
Blood instantly rushes to your face, and you know Jake notices it, given the way his lips quirk into a grin.
“Took you long enough…” You mumble softly, lifting your head to avoid his burning gaze.
“Ay, I know I know. I ain't really got an excuse.” He gives your shoulder one last pat before moving around to the couch and placing himself down next to you, arm promptly resting on the couch behind your head. “Did ya miss me, though?” His fingers toy with your ear, a gesture that he'd quickly and delightedly learnt annoys you.
Your silence is met by a dark chuckle from the man. “Did ya miss these?” The sound of cardboard rustling grabs your attention, your head slowly turning towards him before your eyes focus on the box of cigarettes in front of you.
“I thought you didn't like ‘pre-rolled bullshit'.” You quote his words with a scoff to hide the excitement already bubbling up inside you.
“I don't, but they come in handy, don't they? ‘Specially if I'm tryna rile ya up again.”
His left leg is crossed over the other in a casual sitting position, body angled towards you invitingly with his arms spread wide enough to make his t-shirt stretch across his toned chest.
“So… you didn't find it weird then?” Voice tentative, you shuffle over to him, having missed his tight bear hugs and calming tone of voice… even if his cockiness does get on your nerves sometimes.
A small frown replaces the grin that almost constantly adorned his face. “No, mi vida, ‘course not.” His hand reaches towards your face, calloused thumb running under your eyes softly. “I'm just as into it as you are, hell, I thought that was obvious.” His low chuckle makes your chest warm and a smile break the pouty look you had plastered across your face, especially when he leans in to kiss your forehead.
“Thank fucking god.”
A deep laugh from your boyfriend only makes your face and body grow warmer, the smile widening before you lean into his lips to place a kiss on them.
“Ya could've spoken to the other two.” He says, hands resting on your waist to pull you closer for a cuddle.
“Didn't wanna worry them.” It's almost remarkable how quickly you melt into their arms, quicker than you have with any other person… ever, really.
Jake's fingers trace your face gently, eyes roaming all over your features and drinking them in as if he hasn't seen you in years. “Ay cariño, you're too kind for ya own good.” He chuckles softly, pressing another, slightly longer kiss on your lips.
That slightly longer turns into much longer, which then turns into you panting into eachothers's mouth, craving one another as if it's integral to your survival.
“Please do it again, honey, wanna see you do it again.”
The friction from your bodies grinding relentlessly together has him dazed, his brain taking a few seconds to compute.
“Oh, angel, so impatient,” he teases as he grabs the box of cigs from the table and pulls one out. He runs it under his nose and takes a big whiff, letting out a loud, pleasured groan afterwards to make you giggle at his silliness, which you do.
You bite your lip, and he puts the stick between his rosy lips, looking up at you hungrily. “This what ya wanted, darlin’? ‘S this what you've been waitin’ for?” His tone is almost condescending, but his words roll off of his tongue in such a smooth way that you're quick to forgive him.
Your hips automatically grind down on him as you nod, biting your lip hard, before you feel his hands land on your waist again, traveling underneath your shirt and over your warm skin until you feel his fingers just brush over your left nipple. The hem of your shirt moves past your face before you can even think about it, your eyes still glued to his pretty mouth as you roll your hips on him to pull those soft grunts from his throat.
“Look at ya, I've barely touched ya and you're all worked up.” He grins as he brings his hand down to the waistband of your sweats to slide them lovingly down your thighs. It's a little mortifying how you don't even question him, how you don't even need anymore working up thanks to a heated make-out session and the sight of the cig hanging from his lips loosely. You lift your ass to help him pull them down, your underwear following suit.
That's when you realize he hasn't even taken his grey t-shirt off, and you're stark naked in his lap.
“This has got to have a name...” You rest your hands on his chest, the feeling of your bare cunt grinding against his jeans making you tilt your head back.
“Hmm?” He asks, undoing his belt buckle and fly.
“Your thing for having me completely naked while you can't even be bothered to take your shirt off.”
He laughs at that. “Maybe, ya should look it up later. See if it's on that woman's TikTok page.” He pulls his twitching cock out of the confines of his boxers, running his thumb over the ruddy tip. The gesture makes you take in a soft inhale, inching your hips closer to him so you can let his cock slide between your folds and through your arousal.
You both groan at the movement, and you watch Jake shuffle in his pocket for his lighter moments later, bringing the small flame to the end of the cig to light it. His chest expands, and then deflates as he blows the smoke away.
“You're so gorgeous, mi vida.” He says softly, two fingers holding the cigarette tightly as he runs them across your flesh to make goosebumps prickle across your arms and your cheeks heat up.
“And you're so handsome, Jakey.” You moan softly as he brings his mouth close to your chest and places kisses all over the expanse of skin, guiding your hand down between your bodies to help him slide inside you.
He pulls away and places the stick between his lips again to take in another drag and admire the picture in front of him. “Such a pretty angel,” he reiterates, feeling your warmth envelop his aching length as you sink down on him.
Your thighs shudder just a little, a pant escaping your lips as your hole stretches around him with ease, used to their girth by now.
“Love the dumb little look on ya face when ya take it, cariño. Ya like havin’ me stretch ya open like this?” Jake's words travel straight to your core, fueling the fire in your tummy as you lift your hips just to sink back down on him.
“Yes, baby, I love the way you stretch me open.”
The moan that comes from his lips is wonderful, and it's followed by another billow of smoke, the cig back in the corner of his mouth so he can guide your hips. You can see him already gritting his teeth around it, taking in sharp inhales as you start a deep rhythm on him.
“Oh baby…” You moan. You desperately want to close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but the sight of him fucking you with that deathstick between his teeth is too glorious, penance for the time you spent worrying. “Shit, you look so hot, Jake. So fucking sexy…” You groan as he grasps your ass, gripping the flesh and dragging you down on his cock with growls.
“Ya look even better takin’ it, darlin’, ya take it so well; my pretty slut.”
You grip his shoulders, cursing him for being able to push your buttons and make you whine at the most humiliating of names. Your body always tells him different, though, especially as you start bouncing faster on his cock, feeling it hit that fucking sweet spot each time you come down on him.
Jake is panting too now, and he has to hold the cig between his fingers again to stop it from dropping on you. “Ya feel so good squeezin’ me like that, cariño… Fuck this cunt is magical–.” He still has a grip on your hip, and uses it as leverage so that he can start bucking his hips into your wet heat.
Needless to say, you aren't going to last much longer.
“J-ake! Honey… Fuck I'm so close–agh!-.” Your walls clench around him while your hand slips between your legs to circle your clit, eyes opening briefly to get a glimpse at the sight you'd been waiting to see for what felt like weeks.
That's it, that's all you needed as you sink down on him and grind your cunt against your hand, panting and moaning with your head thrown back. Waves of pleasure rush over you and soak through your bones entirely, your toes clenching like your walls.
You release the grip you had on his shoulders, not that he seemed to mind, that is, before leaning forward to kiss him. You don't care about the smokey taste on his tongue because all you want is him, his taste.
“Mmnnn… We ain't done yet, darlin’,” Jake pulls from the kiss and gestures to the half burnt cigarette as he places it back between his lips.
He gropes your waist and pulls you off of his cock with a soft yelp from you, instead pressing you down into the couch, face turned outwards so he can lean down and look at your face. This position always makes you whine, always makes your legs shake as you try to keep yourself up, and Jake never goes easy on you. He likes seeing the way your ass and thighs bounce as he brings you back on him, and loves hearing the filthy noises that are produced in the process.
The feeling of him splitting you open again has you biting on the cushion, your thoughts from before being true as he ruthlessly fucks into you, loud growls and grunts rumbling in his chest and ringing in your ears.
It's hard to ignore how good it makes you feel when he uses you like this. Sure you love the soft and tender moments you get with the three of them, but once you'd felt what they can really do to you, there was no going back.
You're surprised you haven't ripped the cushion cover from how hard you're gripping it, dumb, cock drunk whines and whimpers falling from your lips as the man fucks you closer and closer to another orgasm.
He leans over you, cigarette barely staying between his lips as he watches your eyes screw shut and random gibberish fall from your mouth.
“Ay, my pretty little fucktoy. Ya love it when I'm rough with ya, don't ya?” He pants and strokes his hand down your chest, running all the way down your tummy till he reaches your swollen clit. “Love it when I… when I use ya.”
His strong and composed facade is faltering, just as it usually does when he's getting close, sitting up again to throw his head back and take puffs of his almost completely gone cigarette.
You can see colours dancing behind your eyelids with how tightly they're screwed shut, the way his fingers are rubbing your clit being almost unbearable as you let out cries and pleas to come again.
“Yeah cariño, that's it, cum all over my cock, lemme feel ya twitch.”
An even stronger wave than before crashes over you and wracks your whole body. Your moans get stuck in your throat as you milk Jake of all he has, his own orgasm having hit him after you'd shrieked his name.
Thankfully, he's quick to remove his fingers from your throbbing clit, knowing it gets a little too sensitive after two mind-blowing orgasms.
”AH FUCK-”
Your post-nut bliss is interrupted by a pained yelp from the man, making you crane your neck to look back at him frantically pulling the cigarette butt from his lips and putting it out in the ashtray.
You laugh, albeit sleepily, and watch his dopey gaze drift to yours as he chuckles lowly. “Fuckin’ cigarettes… maybe next time I should get some of those fake ones.” He jokes as he pulls out of you and touches his sore lips.
You giggle and sit up wobbly, turning to wrap your arms around his neck. “I did think when we started that it was a little dangerous.”
“Ay, ya live and ya learn.”
You both laugh and Jake presses his face into your neck, placing soft kisses as he falls back against the couch with a thump, taking you with him.
...........................................................................
Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse
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sardonic-the-writer · 3 months
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𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐍𝐲𝐠𝐦𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: something for your m.i.n.d— superorganism
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• Everyone's seen how he acted around Kristen before you started frequenting the GCPD
• To most of the precinct, Edward's a fidgety, overzealous guy, with a smile border lining on creepy. He's not the best at socializing, and his lack of understanding boundaries leave him with nearly zero friends
• So when you showed up with that sharp gaze of yours, at least attempting to supply him with the answer to one of his riddles, he knew he had to have you
• As a friend, of course. What else could he possibly mean by that.
• Whether you work at the precinct with him, or just happen to show up there more than considered normal, Ed can't help but hault his day just to talk to you. And he always opens with a riddle. One that he cooked up laying in his bed at night especially for you
• "My life is measured in hours and I serve you by expiring. I'm quick when I'm thin and slow when I'm fat. The wind is my enemy. What am I?" He smiles at you over the rim of his glasses, wringing his hands expectantly
• "Hey to you too, Nygma." You don't even have to look up to know that he's smiling
• "Please. Call me Ed. Do you give up?"
• "As if. Hit me with it again, would you?"
• I'm begging you. Do some kintec type puzzles with him. You will literally win his love and affection on the spot. Even if it's just a mini rubic's cube attached to a key ring; Ed is absolutely enamored with you the moment you pull it out
• It takes him a while to fully realize that he has developed sort of a thing for you. It most likely takes the help of his alter ego to flip the switch in his brain once and for all; something he doesn't appreciate. Especially considering the lack of filter he has when it comes to Ed's romance life
• After all a few months ago, the only one he had eyes for made fun of him in her spare time. Now that he has someone who genuinely wants to know about his day? It's all over for the poor guy
• If Ed ever finds out that you talk about him to other people—in a positive light, of course—he wont stop smiling for days. It gets to a point where even Jim notices and shakes his head, glad to see that forensics scientist is looking happy
• Leaves more than just verbal riddles for you to solve. That odd shaped box that you don't remember putting in your bag? That slip of paper written in a coded message? Edwards by your side the next time you show up, asking if you were able to solve it
• Lee probably knows about his crush on this mysterious figure. She can't help but notice that Edward's a little happier than he should be while digging through a dead guys sternum for a bullet
• Definitely unleashes a soft interrogation on him, only stopping once his ears are a flaming red and he cant look her in the eyes
• When she finally meets you for the first time, she can't help but smile at you knowingly while Ed sweats bullets in the background
• "So you're Nygma's friend huh? He talks about you a lot."
• "Ed?" You draw his name out and raise an eyebrow slowly, leaning to the left to peer over Lee's shoulder quizzically
• "I've suddenly recalled, uh, a uhm, experiment that I uh. Yeah. Bye."
• "Sigh. And he didn't even give me a riddle this time."
• "Oh you two really are just perfect."
• "I have no idea what your talking about."
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teyamsatan · 8 months
Note
My sweet bb Andra 💕 How are you doing love ? 💫
I have a juicy Request and I know you will make its justice 😩🤌🏻
So basically, we have Neteyam and Mate going out for a little time together at the lake, or pond whatever (deep enough 😏😳). Reader decides to draw Neteyam. So he poses for her and well she starts drawing and all. She is all concentrated looking at the paper for a moment and she feels something being thrown at her. She looks at him and well 🥴 We don't need any precisions here :3
Reader is all flustered and Neteyam is just smirking widely. Reader hasn't any time to react because we hear Jake's voice screaming Neteyam's name from afar. Oh ! Guess what ? Neteyam forgot. Yes. He forgot a training with his father (Pls let this poor guy rest a bit 🙂).
And Lo'ak (Otherwise it wouldn't be funny hehe)
Neteyam tries to grab his loincloth but reader is faster and throws it far into the bushes, with a smirk obv. So Neteyam has no choice to jump into the water (I know that Na'vi are less ashamed of nudity... Are they ? Anyways !)
So his brother and father get there, very fastly. Everything that happened before was like in 10 secs.
The rest I leave up to you 😏 We only need some funny dad-Neteyam and brother-Neteyam interactions when he just can't go out of the water, but he's very very late... Then we have Lo'ak that finally understands and just cannot stop laughing, making Jake more than less annoyed than he already was. And we have some intense playfull eye contacts with the reader. She's enjoying it haha.
Yeah... You can end it like you want 😂💖 My brain is a mess sometimes ugh 😥
Okay Imma stop 🙈🌸 I hope this inspired you and no pressure okay ? 🫂
Smooches 🥰
no cause this is so so funny and i hope you enjoyed bestie xx it feels good to be back writing for neteyam :((
pairing: neteyam x human!reader
wc: 1170 words
warnings: smut, fluff, minors do not interact 🔞
na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, tewng - loincloth, tanhí - bioluminescent freckles
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As a human on Pandora, there wasn't much for you to do, very little your body was inherently made for. You were slow and clumsy, a stark contrast to the Na'vi carrying you on his back like a little doll, all nimble and quiet as he treaded the deep shrubbery, his thumbs massaging your thighs as you rested your chin on his shoulder, humming contently in between peppering kisses to his neck.
As a human on Pandora, you were stuck in a lab most days, with filtered air and fluorescent lights, that did nothing for you, that had a rare talent of making even the most beautiful creature look ghastly and ashen, that gave you a headache, that made you miss the beautiful light peering through the uneven gaps created by the branches of the tall trees of the Omaticayan forest. Stuck as you were, you turned to artistic outlets for your boredom. You loved to draw, and you became very good in time, enough that the entire lab and some of the village were now covered in your landscapes and your portraits. The people loved you, and your talents, and often urged you to draw them or loved ones, as a way to immortalise a face or a moment forever in time, a priceless gift for them, and one that gave you a place amongst the Na'vi, even different, as you were.
As a human on Pandora, you didn't have a lot of choice of entertainment... or men. But you've never felt the lack... not when you had Neteyam. Your best friend, your confidant, he was always up for a challenge, and, let's just say, he always thought of you as one. In the few years since your 18th birthday, a rite of passage of sorts for humans, you were told, Neteyam made it his purpose to show you that you will never have to miss out on anything on Pandora, that he would make it his life's mission to... be there for you, in any and every way you needed, be it to be a shoulder to cry on, or a shoulder to rest your legs on as his head was in between your thighs, Neteyam was always there - ready to help, ready to serve.
You gulped as you reminisced about this morning, about the moans that escaped him as he was lapping at your folds like he was quenching an unquenchable thirst, like eating you out was for his own pleasure, and not your own, or the way he didn't stop until you were so overstimulated you were crying, something he made up for by showering you in soft kisses and quiet whispers of "you did so well for me, yawne. you always take me so well."
"You ok back there... friend?"
"Yes, Teyam. Just tired. Are we almost there yet?"
"Patience, love. You wanted more inspiration for your drawings, right? I told you I found just the place, and you're going love it, I promise. It's just a little further."
Well, he was right. The little meadow created by a small, clear pond, bustling with little fish swimming peacefully, drowned in warm sunlight, was the perfect backdrop for the painting you had in mind. With a small smirk, you pointed at the water and clicked your tongue at your much larger, beautiful, muscular friend.
"Get in, Teyam."
"Why?"
"I've wanted to draw you for a while, I just wanted the perfect background, and now I have it. Now go."
You chuckled to yourself as you heard a loud splashing noise, and settled on removing your pad and pens, placing them on the ground next to you as you thought about what positions would work best for what you had in mind. You gasped loudly when something soft hit you in the face, removing you from your less than innocent reveries - it seemed Neteyam was ahead of you, as you felt for the object that you removed from yourself and realised it was his loincloth. When you looked back at him, your mind shortcircuited at the sight of his naked body, glistening in the sun as the water dripped down every defined muscle, down his chest and abs, down his v-line, down his -
"You like what you see, yawne?"
Although it pained you, you raised your eyes until they met his beautiful features, tanhí shining brightly even in broad daylight, as they always did when he was overtly happy or amused, and by the wild, mischievous grin and crinkles by his eyes, it was a safe assumption he was both.
"I say you forget the painting for now, and come here so I can show you how... grateful I am you thought of me as your next subject."
It was a no-brainer to you, really, but when you heard a voice you knew all too well screaming, the noise echoing through the trees, heightening the sound, your body stilled in place.
"Neteyam! Are you there, boy?"
"Fuck! I forgot I was supposed to meet my dad for training."
"Quick, throw me the tewn-" you screeched as the instruction came too little too late, and in the heat of the moment and much to Neteyam's dismay, frightened by the quickly approaching steps of the Olo'eyktan, you threw the cloth in the opposing direction, somewhere in the bushes.
"Netey- ah, kid. What are you two doing here?"
You just looked at him, panicked, eyes flickering from him to Neteyam's younger brother, who looked at you suspiciously, eye narrowed as they assessed the situation at hand through a lens of youth and misdemeanour Jake couldn't really see, and you were glad.
"Cat got your tongue, kid?" The Sully patriarch's raised eyebrow did very little to will out of the catatonic state you found yourself in, so you remained quiet as he scoffed, turning his attention to his oldest son, instead.
"You were supposed to be in training at 1400 hours, remember?"
"Yes, sir."
"Come on, out. We need to be off and make up for it."
"I-I... can't."
"And why the hell not, boy?"
You felt Jake's eye roll deep in your soul, and you felt like you should take the blame for this since... you threw Neteyam's clothes away in fear, and everything. You should rectify this.
"Jake, I-"
"Oh, my Eywa! He's naked! He's so naked!"
Your mouth dropped in shock, but it was too late. The cat was indeed out of the bag, and as your and Neteyam's eyes met, listening to his dad's groans of disgust, you were a little relieved to see a hint of a smile on his face, the beautiful twinkle of amusement putting your mind at ease, letting you know it was all going to be ok. As long as you were together, and you had him, it was all going to be ok.
Reaching your hand behind your head to scratch the itchy spot at the base of your neck, you laughed awkwardly as you spoke:
"I'm... experimenting with some new artistic techniques?"
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elizais · 3 months
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hi! can you do a little something like if dazai and reader knew each other in the PM and stay together and go to the agency? not like a fic thing more like a short little thing of all of the ada together! if not don't worry x
of course!! i love requests 🩷🩷
"remember this one?"
osamu dazai x fem!reader established relationship, reader was in PM with dazai, fluff warnings: ??
everyone knew of you and dazai both being from the port mafia, it was rarely brought up anymore. the agency enjoyed having a big group hang out every few weeks at someone's place, nothing over the top but it usually ended up in a couple of arguments over a board game. (monopoly ended up being banned for a year after kunikida and dazai got into a screaming match at yosano's place.)
and tonight, it was yours and osamu's turn to host. at some point during the work day, ranpo suggested unsolved cases online. nothing serious, just thefts. and that was the plan!
everyone was turning up in casual clothes, kunikida being the first to arrive. osamu greeting him at the door of a home he had certainly not expected to belong to dazai. how you two were together was also a mystery to the man. how you could put up with him? nobody knew.
when kunikida was admiring the interior, osamu read his mind and answered his unspoken question with, "when you are an executive in the mafia you get good savings, kunikida-kun!" he smiled.
"where is y/n?" kunikida asked dazai as he was getting kunikida a drink. "she's gone to grab ranpo, and to approve of whatever cases he wanted to solve. to make sure he doesn't get too out of hand for a relaxed evening."
kunikida and dazai simply watched tv as they waited for everyone else, dazai trying to gossip but kunikida shutting him down immediately. you and the others all walked in with a box in hand with the cases. the only person who couldn't make it being fukuzawa as he was meeting with a friend.
"osamu? can you get everyone drinks please?" you asked as he and kunikida walked towards you and your group. "of course, bella!" he smiled before asking everyone what they wanted and grabbing the snacks.
everyone made themselves at home as you and atsushi chose a case, a comfortable silence between the two of you as you flicked through the large thefts that were forgotten about years ago. "how is this one, y/n?" atsushi spoke as he shown you some papers conjoined with a paperclip. the summary being two unknown teens stealing miscellaneous objects from an office. roughly amounting to $2000 in damages.
not looking over it too thoroughly, "looks good!" you spoke as everyone else filtered into the living space.
although ranpo was the one who suggested it, he knew it would be you and him gossiping whilst everyone else racked their brains over why they would have done it. and that was just what had happened!
everyone else was trying to figure out who and why as it just seemed weird to steal stationary and other random items!
you and ranpo were sat on one of the couches talking as everyone else was sat in a circle on the floor in front of you with paperwork being passed around.
"so.. did you hear about-" ranpo begun, trying to gossip about the cafe's workers drama before getting cut off by osamu tapping you on the knee from where he sat on the floor with the others cross legged.
" 'donna! remember this??" he shown you the photo caught on cctv that was incredibly blurry whilst giggling. squinting, you took the piece of paper before letting out an "ohh! yeah, of course i do!" quiet enough so only osamu and ranpo would hear.
the photo showing an approximately 15 year old boy dressed in a suit with bandages over his eye, black dress pants with a white shirt and a black tie. next to him, a young girl close in age who was smiling and wearing a long black coat too big for her and also formally dressed, carrying a bunch of staplers.
ranpo didn't tell the rest of the group and neither did you two, laughing quietly as they got incredibly frustrated with how it seemed that the thieves done it just to confuse people (which is exactly why you both done it).
would you ever tell people that you both done these thefts as teens whenever you were bored? maybe. but tonight while everyone was stumped? not a chance.
a/n! the poll for bf!chuuya has been written but is in my drafts for tomorrow for those who voted for him. i will do more polls in the future but school has started again and homework/sports are heavy rn !!
reblogs are appreciated and covered in glitter
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covetyou · 6 months
Text
y2k
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moodboard and fic inspo by @psychedelic-ink main masterlist
rating: Teen (this is an 18+ blog) warnings: fluff, Joel and Sarah being domestic and cute af, swearing, Sarah being a little shit. No outbreak. word count: 876 summary: a morning in the Miller Household with our fave resident Girl Dad and his Daughter (who is a little shit affectionately).
A/N: @psychedelic-ink is having a cute lil joel miller birthday bash and i requested a silly y2k moodboard in honour of the occasion. This spawned from my brain before I could stop it. Happy Birthday, JM!
if my boss asks, i've been working super hard for the last hour and not writing this.
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Joel sat at the kitchen counter, nursing his morning coffee. It was a clear day, the heat of summer dwindling now that October was approaching. He relished these quiet moments in the mornings, just him and his world inside that house, safe and sound.
Even after 15 years though, the silence never lasted long. He was glad for it - he dreaded to think how quickly the days of silence would come and how much he would long for the noise.
As expected, footsteps thundered down the stairs.
One day that kid's goin' to bring this fuckin' house down.
"Hey Dad," Sarah says breathlessly as she sidles up to Joel. She's hiding something behind her back, and Joel well knows that look on her face by know. She's been up to something.
"Mornin' kid," he smiles. Whatever she's up to he doesn't care, seeing the best thing he ever did every morning always put a smile on his face. "What you got there?"
"I got something to show you," she bites her lip. "I made it."
Joel's heart wants to burst out of his chest. As a kid, he was always being gifted little drawings and creations - pictures of them in their house, a deranged looking cat with too many legs (a sign from Sarah that she really wanted a pet kitty - he wishes he could've said yes to her, but his allergies would never let it happen), a paper mache lump of something she'd made and painted. He kept it, but he still didn't know what it was. My babies first abstract art he'd joked at the time. It had been years since she'd made anything for him, she was more into playing with friends and sports than arts and crafts with her old man these days.
"Alright then, let's see it," he turns to face his daughter as she pulls her laptop from behind her back. It was a birthday gift this summer, and she was rarely off the damn thing - she said it made homework easier than having to use the family desktop computer, but he still didn't quite believe she didn't just use to to talk to her friends until the early hours of the morning. Still, he could never say no or be mad at her for much of anything for too long.
"And you ain't takin' that to school."
Sarah rolls her eyes. "I'm not. Look."
She points to the screen.
"I was up all night making it for you - Happy Birthday, Dad!"
It's... well. It's something else. Pictures of him (he recognized one as a picture she had taken 5 years ago) and the two of them together, all interspersed with a collection of other images he wasn't familiar with but somehow seemed to match. Joel's stomach dropped with it - if this is what his baby girl was into, maybe she'd changed more as a teen than he thought. Still, she'd made it for him. It was special.
"I... it's..." Joel was getting genuinely choked up. He didn't care what it was. He just loved that she made it for him.
"Don't you love it?" she prods his arm, grinning like a maniac.
"I do." And he did.
"The color pallette is so cute right, and this picture is my favorite." She points to a picture in the middle from a 4th of July last year - Her and Joel had gone to a neighbors house to celebrate. There'd been a bonfire. "I put filters on everything to make it more pink. It really gels it all together, don't you think?"
It was one of his favorites too. Even with... all the pink.
"It is uh, real pink, yeah," Joel says, scratching his neck. "It your new favorite color or somethin'? We need to paint your room again?"
Sarah's face drops. "I - I thought it was your favorite color, Dad." She looks devastated.
Joel is dumbstruck. What does he say. He flounders, stuttering, trying to find the words.
Suddenly, Sarah's face breaks into a shit eating grin big enough to rival Tommy's.
"I'm just fucking with you dad."
Joel's eyes snap to hers, a warning, and amusement, flashing across his face.
She holds her hands up in surrender. "Messing! I'm just messing with you."
"Well, I love it anyway. Even if you are just messin' with me," he kisses her temple and pushes her toward the door. "C'mon, lets get goin' or you're goin' to be late, and so am I."
Sarah rolls her eyes, gathers her school bag and heads for the door with Joel in tow. They both head for his truck, starting their day the same way they always do - together.
Joel stops before he reaches his truck, placing a large hand on the hood and looking over to his daughter. His - how did he get so lucky.
"Hey kid... can you send me that picture when you get home from school?"
Sarah smiles. It was a silly joke, but she's glad he loves it too. "Sure thing, Dad."
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ceejindeed · 2 months
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Hi ceej, hope you're well! I was wondering how you draw scenes with multiple characters without getting overwhelmed and how you decide what poses they should be in?
When it comes to big group shots, I try to break things down into little vignette scenes by grouping characters together, usually in groups of two-three. Those two to three characters all have something going on, either someone's doing something and the rest are reacting to it or someone is striking a pose and the others are striking poses around that pose. You give yourself one anchor point, one action, and then think of how the characters would react to that action... Then you just keep repeating that process with however many characters you need to squeeze into the piece. From there it's about contrasting body language and facial expressions. Just the regular "family photo" shot can be kind of boring, especially if it feels overly posed. Generally I try to go with something that feels very candid.
Unfortunately when it comes to how to decide what to start with from there, I can't help much. I've never fully been able to describe my method beyond I'm just... Drawing what I see? I don't always feel like I'm really the one deciding what's going on in my drawings, everyone has always kind of moved around and did whatever they want. I just apply the filter of "this is supposed to be this character." I can "direct" in the way that you can direct a model, but unless you physically went up to them and moved them around like a paper doll yourself there's only so much control you have.
This is why I really struggle to explain HOW to draw something (like hands or faces) or how I choose what I draw. In my eyes, I'm drawing what I can see. I spent a lot of time training myself to "look harder, see more," throughout high school and college, so this is the method I've always preferred. Even though I'm not working from photo reference or anything like that, I can "see the model" that I get the basic shapes and movements and gestures from that I can apply to whoever it's meant to be, if it's meant to be fanart.
So other than breaking open your skull and trying to completely rewire your brain to be as crazy as mine, my suggestion would be to look at group shots from comic books and photos. See how everyone is interacting with each other, and what little stories they seem to be telling... Then think about what kind of story you want to tell yourself. It doesn't have to be a full epic, it can be as simple as "X decided to annoy Y and Z finds that amusing. A and B are judging from the sidelines, having their own conversation about it." I think a lot of baroque-era genre paintings also set these scenes really effectively, if you want something more historical to look to.
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horrorscoupes · 8 months
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im supposed to be writing a term paper rn but instead im gonna explain why regulus’ listener does not need a dedicated name because ive been pondering it for like. a year
cw: the usual dehumanizing/demeaning/manipulative/etc regulus shit 👍
the biggest and most overarching theme of regulus’ storyline is and always has been a comparison of love and obsession/possessiveness, especially now that we’ve gotten some extra info on the guy they were seeing before regulus came back from the slammer. obviously there is something so incredibly wrong with him- both because he’s Like That but also because in a patreon stream erik said smth to the effect of “oh just wait until you see how he ended up like that” which to me means that something either deeply traumatizing or catastrophic led to regulus being the mangy beast he is today. <- this is supported (in my opinion) by how rampantly insecure he is shown throughout all of his videos, most noticeably in the beginning when he’s vulnerable about how he’s been lonely too (“I don’t want you to be nervous when you’re with me. I want you to feel safe. At home. Because that’s how you make me feel. You make me feel so warm inside. It’s been a very long time since I felt that way.” [Yandere Invisible Man Makes You His Forever (11:10)]). that quote among many others lends to the theory and idea that something happened to him/one of his charges/etc that irreparably affected his ability to maintain healthy boundaries. all of that is obvious tho.
i think that regulus choosing his listener as his charge (as opposed to being assigned to them as ive seen some people on here say)(“I believe they were not his official charge, but he has now kind of taken them on as an unofficial one… …They were not his-- they were never an official charge of his, but, y’know they are… He would now consider them a charge. I don’t know that they would agree.” Working on the Train Model and Hanging Out (2:34:00)) was very deliberate, since it’s very clear that for as long as he was in their house the first time, no one was overwhelmingly worried about their absence from the outside world. that isn’t to say that no one was worried at all, we still don't know how he got caught, but it’s obvious that his preying on them had to do with their predisposed social isolation. this is clear to me because he watched them for a great deal of time before he ever intervened. 
before i get to the main point i also want to chime in on the ever present discourse of how he managed not to starve to death. in my opinion, there are two equally likely scenarios for his first stint with them, with one being far more likely for the second stint. his listener had close to no mental strength before him, and certainly did have much during his stay with them, so there’s no particular evidence that could prove he Never Ever put them to sleep (or just left them magically paralyzed) and left to filter feed out in the real world for a bit. i don’t know how likely that is after he got out of prison, but i don’t think it’s entirely out of the question. the second, probably more likely, possibility is that after days/weeks/months of nonstop love-bombing, physical affection, and manipulating regulus’ listener Did enjoy being with him. not in a conscious or happy sort of way, but by way of their body and brain reacting positively to his presence. when you don’t have anyone else, even an abuser can be a point of relief.
FINALLY onto the topic that i started word-vomiting over in the first place. i think that the most articulate and correct way to refer to them is as “regulus’ listener” for one very specific reason. i think that they are purposefully nameless. he doesnt call them by petnames or by their actual name because they don’t need it. they are not a person to him, they are a possession. he wrote over their memories of their boyfriend, wiping away the way him calling them “sweetie” made them feel, because he will never call them that in any kind way. 
his most recent video gave A LOT of context to their living arrangement and the way that he controls them on a day-to-day basis (as all of my friends have suffered through hearing about lol). and i think that the context we learned is really important when set against all of the other manipulatorcore characters we get to see on there. it seems very vital that his listener has no name and no identity, but he still requests their permission to “help” them (“I can rework these memories. I can make them feel better than you could ever imagine. Mine. I can help. I can fix this. Can I help? Will you let me help? Please let me help.” Possessive Yandere Demon Rewrites Your Memories (4:03)). in doing this he offers them autonomy that he has no obligation to give, but he still won’t give them a name. because, as he calls them 52 times in that one video, the only thing they will ever be to him is “Mine.” 
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simpledyiing · 2 years
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From Paper to Reality ∥ P. Mitchell
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Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x (Student) Y/N
Word count - 7k
Y/CS - Your call sign (EX. Hollywood, Dutch, Barbie)
Summary: Y/N has a crush on her instructor, Maverick but can't act on it… haha unless... FUCKING ANGST
A/N: I'm sorry if this is complete shit, please have mercy on my soul. AND No hate to Rooster, I absolutely love him so don't come for me. If anyone wants to get drunk and sing along with Seresin - the song is linked here on Youtube fire by the pointer sisters
1986 — Texas, United States of America
The sun was shining through the little quaint suburb as the birds chirped in sync with sprinklers as they pelt droplets of water on the earth below. The only thing breaking the rhythm was the Paper boy’s bicycle wheels and the thuds of the daily paper hitting against the door to land perfectly on the Y/L/N’s welcome mat.
At the tell-tale sign of the daily paper being just outside the door, Y/N’s mother was bouncing a fussy three year old on her hip. She made her way through the living room to reach the front door, while speaking in a gentle tone considering she has spent the last 10 minutes trying to calm Y/N down, but unfortunately nothing was working. “Aww sweetie pie, what’s the matter? Huh, what’s got you crying like this… shhh it’s okay baby” after placing a gentle kiss on the crying child’s forehead, Y/N’s mother swung the door open and bent down to retrieve the daily newspaper, and at that the crying stopped. The tired woman looked down at the child in her arms and noticed Y/N was hyper-fixated on the front cover photo of a Handsome brunette pilot smiling in front of an F-14  surrounded by several crew members  “Huh a Naval pilot really, Your daddy might have a bit of a problem with that sweetcheeks” 
~~
Y/N’s crying fit started the second her mother took the paper from her clinging little hands, after a good ten minutes Y/N’s wish was granted as the front cover of the paper was laid in front of her sitting position “Tanks momma” slipped the little girl’s lips as she smiled down at the paper.
~~
The front door of the Y/L/N’s home was gently opened as Y/N’s father peeked into the house to try and not disturb Y/N if she was asleep, but as he walked further into the living room he noticed his daughter was absent from her usual spot, he was ripped from his confused state when he heard a noise coming from the kitchen. 
As he entered the kitchen his gaze checked the surrounding area to try and find the little terror known as his daughter, but at last Y/N was not in the kitchen “Hey honey, uh where’s Y/N at? The little munchkin isn't in the living room”  all he got in response was a tired sigh escaping his wife’s lips before she closed the oven door “I don’t even know at this point, I think she’s sitting under the stairs.. but how was your day hun?”  the sound of a chair scraping along the hardwood filled the quiet kitchen, as he dropped his weight into the seat “It was good besides Daniel being a dickhead but that’s normal…. Uh, Honey where is the front page of the paper?”
The sound of his wife’s laugh filtered through the surrounding air “Your daughter” lifting his gaze from the little black symbols covering the page towards his wife “what do you mean Y/N” confusion was laced through his words as he simply stared dumbfounded at the woman in front of him, waiting for her to continue. “Well, you see your sweet little princess is in love! Y/N started crying after you left for work and pretty much spent the whole day balling her eyes out. She finally stopped crying when the paper came with some naval pilot on the front cover. I took the paper away and she started crying again soooo the front page is hers, don’t even think about taking it away from her cuz if you do, I will beat you three ways to Sunday” 
Y/N’s father blinked three times processing the information that just flooded his brain, “She stopped crying because of some pilot on the front page?” with a simple nod from his wife, the chair scraped once against the wood as he heads towards the cubby under the staircase, but the soft floral dress hiding under an end table caught his attention, bending down to see his smiling daughter holding the front cover of the paper “Hiii daddy” he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, “Hi princess, what do you have there?” Y/N reached her arms out to show her father the front page “Mommy said I could have it!” before Y/N knew it she was being pulled out from under the table and into her father’s arms “Hmmm Honey, you are a little too young for boys, and I rather you stay away from military men”
~~
After that Y/N’s mother went around the neighborhood and asked if she could have their front cover page of the newspaper, considering this naval pilot by the name of Lieutenant Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was the only thing that stopped her daughter from crying endless amounts of tears…. She wasn’t going to risk losing this gift from the skies so she ended up with a stockpile of 43 cover photos of Lt. Mitchell, she even laminated a few and stored the rest in a ziplock bag with parchment paper separating each paper.. Just to be safe!
~~
2000 - Texas, United States of America
The Y/L/N’s resident was filled with laughter and inflated overlapping voices that floated through the baby pink balloons and glittery party streamers that cascaded down from the ceiling, it was Y/N’s seventeenth birthday. 
Y/N was currently surrounded by her four aunties, that were currently  on attempt #5 of trying to set her up with several different boys, that they know ‘you aren’t getting any younger’ was their chant of the day. The only thing saving the poor girl was her father, “My princess doesn’t care about boys, she’s too busy picking which Ivy league university she is attending, isn't that right pumpkin?” a nervous laugh slipped past her lips accompanied with “Yes, sir! Haha have you seen mom?” the four women surrounding them rolled their eyes, as a proud smile formed on her father’s face “She is in the kitchen, hun” Y/N quickly nodded thanks towards her dad as she made her way towards the kitchen.
The heat radiating from the oven warmed the air around, as a gentle hum floats through the kitchen “Momma, I need to talk to you about something”  Y/N’s mother turned her gaze away from the half-frosted cake sitting on the counter towards her daughter  “What’s wrong, baby?” Y/N sighed as she dragged herself to sit in the empty chair in front of her mother “Momma, y’know how dad wants me to go to a big ivy league college… well I don’t want to... I-I want to join the Navy and become a pilot” the icing spatula in her mother’s hand fell to the ground with a soft plop “YOU WHAT?” she winced slightly at her mother’s predictable reaction “Mom, you have known this for years. This is all I have ever wanted since I was three years old. Please I need your help I don’t know how to tell Dad, I know he’s going to be extremely pissed off that his pride and joy rather go to naval boot camp than Baylor or A&M but this is what I want to do, will you please help me?” Her mother was silent as she cleaned the dropped spatula under the faucet, before shifting her gaze towards her daughter “Baby if this is what you want, I support you no matter what… We can figure out how to break the news to your father after dinner, okay? But you are a 1000% sure, that this is what you want to do?” Y/N didn’t hesitate as the words pushed off her tongue “Yes, I’m 1 million percent sure, that this is what I want” after a few moments of silence, a heavy sigh passed Y/N’s mother’s lips “Well honey, I’m not going to crush your dreams or spirit, that what life is for” shaking her head as she reached out to hug her daughter.
~~
The day came when Y/N broke the news to her father, as ‘United States Naval Academy’ slipped off her tongue that was the moment she saw the light disappear from his eyes as confusion and disappointment took over. Y/N’s Father thought she was sitting him down to tell him the great news, that she finally decided on a University.. At that moment he knew he should’ve thrown out a certain newspaper, but he knew nothing was going to change Y/N’s mind and opted for the peaceful route of supporting his daughter’s decision. Considering he knew Y/N was going to put everything she had into it and would be top of her class ‘When’ she goes to Top Gun….Which he was correct about, and bragged about even years after she graduated from top gun.
~~ 
2020 - USS Carl Vinson
If someone told Lt. Y/N ‘Y/CS’ Y/L/N that she would be back at Top Gun she would have called them crazy and laughed in their faces, well that was Y/N’s exact reaction as her superior notified her of her call-back status. Y/N’s time at Top Gun was a love-hate relationship considering she learned her weaknesses and sharpened her skills, and also crossed paths with her best friend, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace. Looking from an outside perspective Y/N had everything and she was envied by her fellow peers, not only was she always top of the class because of her flying skills but the instructors loved her.
But Y/N didn’t have everything, she was in a deep state of depression and was only truly happy when she was flying, considering her three year long relationship with her fiance fell apart when he cheated on her, after that heartbreak her mother was diagnosed with cancer…. but the heaviest hit was her mother dying a two weeks before her graduation. 
However, all of those memories and emotions were pushed aside when Phoenix pulled Y/N into a long overdue hug. Even though Y/N was dreading tomorrow, it was still comforting to see a friendly familiar face and I guess… Hangman’s too even though she spent 4 months on a naval carrier with him a couple of months prior to this.
~~
The ringing of a bell filtered through the cramp barroom as it roared to life with cheering, as patrons made their way over to the bar’s counter just as Hangman was weaving through with two glasses in his hands and his trademark smirk. “What’s got you so happy?”  Y/N’s words were punctuated with the full glasses landing against the hardwood table “Drinks are on the old guy at the bar, tsk tsk Grandpa didn’t read the sign” Y/N tilted her head to catch a glimpse of the poor guy at the bar but gave up shortly afterwards “hmm I don’t know why you are getting giddy over that, considering you will be that old guy sitting at a bar alone in 10 years” Hangman’s smirked dropped at the thought before leaning closer to his female counterpart “Oh Honey don’t tell me you forgot about our little deal…” as his words drifted through the surrounding air it sparked curiosity in the WSO sitting across, pushing his glasses up along with ‘What Deal?” The groan that emitted from Y/N was a tell-tale sign to stop the conversation but Seresin ignored her protests “Well you see my dear friend, Y/N and I made a deal that if we weren’t married in 10 years.. Well 8 years now, we would get married” the smirk never left his face, even after Phoenix slapped Y/N’s arm “Are you serious right now? Y/N I thought better of you, I am so disappointed and offended right now” rubbing the spot just assaulted by the firey brunette “What I was drunk at the time and wHy are you offended?”  her confused state dropped as Natasha replied with “I’m offended because you didn’t ask me first for a marriage pact” Seresin swallowed down his beer before standing up to head over to the pool tables with a “Should have been faster Phoenix, cuz that ass is going to be mine in 8 years” ….
~~
The room was dark except for the moonlight cascading through the window, usually that would be a comfort to her but Y/N was too focused on trying to match her breathing to the low melody coming from the chirping crickets outside her window considering sleep was evading her. Anxiety was washing over her like the California waves gliding over the shoreline, which led her to stare blankly at the small depressions lining the surface of her bedroom ceiling as she flipped through her memories as if it was an old photo album.  Y/N knew this was a dangerous past time, but she couldn’t help but indulge this sadistic need as she thought about how tightly her mother embraced her before being torn apart from one another as Y/N left for the Navy. She could still hear her mother’s crying pleas for her to be safe and telling her to try and call, as her father sent her a proud smile accompanied by “Give ‘em hell, pumpkin.” 
Y/N’s thoughts soon drifted through what-ifs… how her life would have been so different if she went to that Ivy league school, that her father wanted so desperately for her. She started to wonder if she should thank her 3-year-old self or curse her, considering if she never threw that crying tantrum that morning, she would have never found out about the United States Navy in the form of Lt. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell plastered across the front page of the newspaper. But in all honesty not all the blame could be pushed onto three year old Y/N, considering her mother collected 43 copies of the newspaper’s cover and even framed it… at that thought Y/N’s gaze drifted from the off-white ceiling towards the dresser, where three picture frames sat proudly atop of the worn wood; a family photo, a teenage Y/N clinging onto her childhood dog, and the old 1986’s newspaper cover. 
She couldn't help but shake her head as a laugh slipped through her lips, considering how ridiculous she was as if she was still that crying three year old girl clinging to the ivory colored newspaper for comfort, as if Lt. Pete Mitchell in paper form was going to dry her tears and hush her worries, unfortunately the thought was cut short when the blaring sound of her alarm disrupted the silence. 
~~
The room was spacious but it still didn’t help to drown out her peers' loud chattering, nor the argument brewing between Rooster and Hangman but soon none of that mattered considering Y/N’s focus was aimed at the desk, where a dark blue cup sat with NAVY plastered across the front in bold gold font. Her attention shifted from the design to imagine how long the cup had been abandoned for considering steam stopped rising from it ten minutes ago, and most importantly who left it. 
Y/N’s daydreaming was cut off once again almost like deja vu of this morning the only difference was instead of her alarm, it was Hangman producing the annoying sound. Y/N slowly tilted her head to look up at Seresin’s smirking face  “Aww did the baby get tired of Bradshaw already?” 
Hangman shifted back and forth while rolling his eyes at the younger pilot “No, I just rather spend some quality time with you, sweetheart.. Plus you are a lot easier on the eyes than Bradshaw, so move over” Y/N huffed out a laugh as Bradshaw muttered a ‘fuck you’ but complied with Hangman’s request and moved over to the unoccupied seat. Shortly after that it didn’t take long for Phoenix to drop down next to her, as y’all waited patiently for the instructor to show. 
~~
The sound of boots hitting cement over and over echoed through the room as the previously rowdy aviators waited with bated breaths as their heads turned in the direction of the entrance to get a single glance at their instructor. 
A mere glimpse of the man’s face was all it took considering three year old Y/N spent hours looking at that man, Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.  The emotions that flooded her system were a mixture of excitement and mortification as she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming, unfortunately the quiet “fuck me no no no” slipped through her lips, which caught Phoenix’s attention as her eyes shifted from Maverick to Y/N “What’s wrong?” Ignoring her, Y/N tilted her head towards Maverick as he lifted the Navy cup off the desk to meet his lips, Which answered Y/N’s previous question as she caught the slight grimace taking over his facial expression as he willed himself to swallow down the cold coffee.
As Maverick’s gaze shifted from the manila folders laid out on the desk to lock eyes with her, the warm comforting smile he sent her way, only frightened the pilot more.. And at that moment Y/N knew her Love-Hate relationship with Top Gun would once repeat itself..
~~
Grunting between deep exhales of air was accompanied by Y/N’s tired sigh escaping her lips as she pushed herself back down just to repeat another sixty times. This was her punishment considering Bradshaw had a tantrum in the sky and bailed as her wingman to go after Maverick, which result in Rooster being ‘shot’ and Y/N a couple of minutes afterwards.
 “I’m sorry Y/CS, I should have stuck to the plan” filtered through a low grunt as Rooster pushed his body up from the planked position, “It’s okay birdboy, I was planning on doing 200 pushups after we got back anyways!... but just don’t leave me hanging next time please” Rooster nodded at Y/N as she reached her punishment goal before collapsing face first into the concert to try and cool herself down.
Maverick huffed out a laugh at Y/N’s state “That’s 200 Y/L/N, you are done for the day.. And good job out there” Y/N’s bad mood shifted to pure joy from hearing his praise, but the only response she could muster in her current state was slowly pulling her right arm up to give him a thumbs up. 
~~
At the moment Y/N was currently in the Love part of her relationship with Top Gun, considering she was learning how to perfect her dogfighting skill from her hero but was also developing a friendly/flirty relationship with Maverick. She was in pure bliss until her father showed up “Pumpkin!” echoed through the Hard Deck as the familiar voice pierced her ears.
 Y/N’s face dropped as she tilted her head away from Maverick to the man approaching her “Oh fuck… Dad! What are you doing here? And how did you know I was even here?” Upon seeing his daughter’s face, a warm smile grew as he finally reached his little girl “I wanted to surprise you! So I called Natasha and she told me I would find you here… and I just wanted to check up on you, considering you’re back at Top Gun”
Before Y/N could respond to her dad, Seresin’s voice broke the silence “Pumpkin? Huh cute” her soft smile dropped as she sent him a death glare over her father’s shoulder. 
Y/N pulled herself from her father’s embrace and shifted towards the team as she introduced everyone, he interrupted her before she could finish “Isn’t that the guy from the front page of the newspaper that you were obsessed with? God it’s like from paper to reality huh” Y/N’s smile dropped as she blinked three times as Maverick’s voice filtered through the suffocating air around her “Newspaper?.. Wait was it from the 80s?”
Y/N flinched as her father clapped his hands together “Yes, 1986 front page of the daily paper! When Y/N was younger she was obsessed with it, you were the only thing that could stop my little girl from crying, No matter what” Y/N felt her father nudge her but no words were formed “Honey, do you still have that thing hanging up in your room” when no response was giving he continued “She probably does, considering she took it with her when she joined the Navy…. But I got to say it’s an honor to meet the man that made my job easier, considering all the boys in her hometown envied you and she didn’t even bat an eye at them. She was too busy gawking at yo…” her father’s words fell flat as they muffled against Y/N’s hand “DAd, stop talking now… we are leaving now” without waiting for a reply Y/N dragged him with her towards the door, Y/N’s father waved goodbye as he involuntarily followed. 
Hangman was holding his stomach as he laughed out “Oh that’s beautiful, Thank you, Phoenix for giving me this ammunition to use against her” Phoenix’s head shot up before setting her jaw “ Don’t be an ass, bagman” Seresin rolled his eyes at the angry brunette and shifted his line of sight to the aging captain “Oh apple of Y/N’s eyes”  after the words slipped thru his lips a pained ‘ow’ accompanied it as Phoenix decked him.
~~
The hard deck was filled with overlapping voices and laughter, as the team crowded around the pool table and surrounding chairs, Y/N instead made a beeline towards the chair against the bar counter considering she was tired of being the butt of the joke, No one seemed to notice.. Except for Maverick.
Which is how he found himself filling the empty seat to her left after a few moments he nudged her “Hey Y/CS, you okay?” Y/N tilted her head to meet his gaze before a heavy sigh was released “Well, considering Hangman has nicked you as ‘Apple of Y/N’s eyes’ mmm and my dad is staying with me for the week, I think I could be better y’know…” a slight hum in agreeance followed her words “Mav, can we just pretend that last night never happened?”
A laugh filtered around the two of them “Was it really that embarrassing for you? I thought it was sweet especially since all the boys in your hometown envied me, little bit of an ego boost… But I am curious do you still have it hanging up” Y/N sat in silence as she sucked in a deep breath “Yes it really was embarrassing for me, but I am so thrilled you are getting a kick out of this.. And yeah it’s still up, but the reason has changed over time. Yeah I had a massive crush on you, but you were the reason why I joined the Navy, I admired you and I still do but after I graduated from Top Gun the reason changed…”  
Penny interrupted your thought process as she laid drinks in front of yall, Maverick shot her a small smile with a ‘thank you’ before turning his attention back to Y/N “why did it change..what is the reason now?” but she didn’t reciprocate the action, instead she just stared blankly at the bubbles rising to the top of her beer “When I was little, I would cry endlessly after my dad would leave for work and then one day I saw you on the front page and the crying just stopped. After that my mom went around the neighborhood and collected ‘43’ copies of the front cover, just to make sure I would always have you there to comfort me… So yeah the reason now, it reminds me of my mother’s love, considering not many people would go through the hassle just to make sure I wouldn’t cry ever again…” a thud followed as she pushed her glass back and forth, “it’s a hard choice to pick which reason I like more, but I think it's going to be… the first one”  
The dull smack to his upper right arm was her feeble attempt to try and reprimand him, but it only encouraged the smile growing on his face as he reached to give her wrist a small shake, to try and get her attention. “I’m kidding…mostly, but I will say this, I care a lot about you and I am here for you no matter what, in paper form and physically.” 
They fell into a comforting silence as Y/N leaned against him the small ‘thanks mav’ was almost drowned out by the loudness of the bar, but the soft smile forming on Maverick’s face confirmed he heard her.
~~
Remember that promise Rooster made about not leaving Y/N hanging? Well, he broke it but this time it almost resulted in Y/N ejecting from her F-14. Everything was going according to plan Y/N took the lead and Rooster was sticking to his promise, until he got in his head and drifted off course and comms to go after Maverick, “Roo you alright? … Rooster do you copy” silence was all she heard over the comms. Y/N understood why he got antsy and jumped the gun considering Maverick shot them down each training session, but she wasn’t expecting Rooster to jerk his plan roughly up, the bad maneuver caused the nose of her F-14 to take a sharp pitch downwards as Y/N’s head slammed against the canopy. The blaring beeps bounced off the canopy disrupting Y/N’s dazed state as the comms lit up “EJECT, Y/CS EJECT NOW… Y/N CAN YOU HEAR ME…” Y/N felt like throwing up as the blood dripped down the front of her right eyebrow, before pulling forward to try and level out the plane before hitting the hard deck, which worked considering the nose of the plane was once again level with the tail. 
~~
The second Y/N’s boots touched the ground she was throwing her guts up only pausing to let out a strained “Natasha!” as the brunette took quick strides over to comfort her while sending the gathering crowd a sharp glare for gawking at the scene “Go get her water now” was barked at an onlooker. Y/N wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, as she smiled fondly at Phoenix, “Have I told you about how much I love you” a faint laugh was pulled out from the two before labored breaths from Maverick and Rooster floated through the air “Y/N.. are you okay” 
Y/N slowly removed her flight helmet, grimacing as she threw it to the side before her eyes slowly moved to watch the bird soaring above her as a pained laugh followed by “You lucky bastard’ left her chapped lips. Maverick and Phoenix were in front of her instantly upon noticing the crimson liquid dripping down on her flight suit “Jesus Christ, you’re bleeding.. We need to get her to med bay” the only indication that Y/N was aware of the situation was the slight shake of her head and a slurred “Mavvv don’t tell my dad a-about this”
~~
Tension rose among the team, considering Maverick would snap at them for making the tiniest mistake, but everyone thought it would dissolve after Y/N was healed up and cleared to fly again, but it didn’t because Maverick grounded her without a reason after she was given the green light to fly. Y/N shrugged it off but the next day he grounded her from flying again. 
~~
Anger washed over Y/N’s form as she waited patiently in the chair adjacent to the desk in Maverick’s office. She was rightfully pissed considering the accident wasn’t even her fault, but the fact that she couldn’t even be up in the one place that makes her truly happy, all because of Maverick. 
Y/N’s eyes were piercing through the once again abandoned  ‘Navy’ cup that sat proudly on his cluttered desk, she almost had to laugh considering it felt like deja vu of her first day back except the cup didn’t spark her curiosity to daydream about its owner or its story, instead it seemed to mock her childish antics. The sound of the door squeaking open tore her gaze from it, as she waited for Maverick to step into her peripheral “Y/N? Hey, I hope you weren’t waiting for too long…” he trailed off upon seeing her blank facial expression  “What’s wrong? Is your head hurting?” As Maverick sat on the edge of his desk, concern was laced in his features as she took a deep breath “I want to know why you grounded me for TWO days in a row after I was given the green light…Mav why, I need an answer?” silence filled the space for what felt like minutes “Y/N, just give it a couple more days” Y/N rolled her eyes at his sorry excuse for an answer, as she pulled herself up to meet his eyes “That’s not an answer, that’s you trying to avoid the question” 
Maverick’s eyes scanned the office as if he was trying to avoid the disheveled pilot's gaze, but in reality he was weighing his options “You didn’t follow orders, I told you to eject and you ignored a direct command. You could have passed out up there and crashed, you could have d-died… Y/N, I already lost one person I care about.. On my watch, I’m not going to lose another so just drop it, please.. You are grounded until I say otherwise”
Maverick locked eyes with her as she wiped a hand across her face, “People die every day, let me do my fucking job I’m not some naive child I know what I am doing, especially up there.. But This isn’t about me though is it? This is about you. If you truly cared about me, you would know grounding me is the last thing I need.” She shook her head as a scoff slipped through her lips before turning towards the door, ignoring Maverick’s calls as she slammed the frosted glass door shut behind her as she walked straight into Hangman’s chest “Y/N, hey what’s wrong?” his gaze shifted from the Maverick’s office door before turning Y/N with him to walk in the other direction “How about we go shoot a few rounds of pool at the Hard Deck? Hmm drinks are on me” 
~~
The sound of the frosted door rattling against the wall after Y/N stormed out echoed through his thoughts on repeat the only thing that seemed to help drown it out was the monotonous conversation and low laughter that carried through the bar. The heavy sigh released from the aging pilot, as he dropped himself into the bar stool in front of Penny had her raising a brow in question to his soured mood “What’s wrong?”  followed along with a freshly poured beer pushed in front of him “Nothing Pen, it was just a long day… um, have you seen Y/N today?” Penny’s brow rose even higher, before pointing to the corner of the bar “long day my ass, what did you do? The poor girl looked like she was about to burst into tears or kill someone when she came in here … but either way if you are going to try and fix whatever you did, you might want to wait for her to sober up” Maverick shifted in his seat to look in the direction she had pointed in, Y/N was clearly drunk and swaying to the jukebox while absentmindedly singing along to the chorus.
~~
The one too many tequila shots produced a numb feeling that successfully pushed her dejected thoughts away for a good couple of hours, she glanced through the bar as Hangman was failing miserably to work the jukebox, and refused her help saying it was ‘a surprise’ before pushing her away. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his childish antics but stayed in place, still swaying slightly to the melody of the bar chatter, until the familiar chorus of Fire rang through her ears as Seresin slurred “I'm ridin' in your caar, you turn on the radio…You're pullllin' me clooose” to try and cheer her up as he pulled her towards him as the pair sung in unison and off pitch, “I just say no,I saaay I don't like it b-but you know I'm a liaar” before others crowded in to join in on their slurred rendition.
~~
Maverick’s eyes were glued to the scene unfolding across the bar, Y/N giggled as Hangman sway her hips back and forth to the beat. At the sight, Maverick’s facial expression was laced with disappointment, before he turned away to reposition himself at the bar’s counter. Maverick was unaware of the suspicions brewing in the brunette’s head, as he brought the glass up to his lips the words slipped out of Penny’s “You’re in love with her?” Penny’s laugh was accompanied by his choking sound, before he could dismiss her accusation he was shushed as Penny shot him a pointed look “yea I am” was huffed out. The look of victory graced her lips as his shoulders dropped in defeat  “Well go tell her that loverboy before it’s too late, and do me a favor give her a ride home”
~~
Her face was flushed against the cool bar top, providing her flustered state a bit of relief, she couldn’t help but laugh at her current state considering her mother would be ripping her a new one, grumbling on ‘Y/N sit up that’s unladylike’. The worn table would have been an uncomfortable bed, but Y/N looked past the stickiness and closed her eyes until she felt someone’s callous hands touch the top of her shoulders. A groan of protest left her body as she forced herself to see who disturbed her peaceful table nap, it was Maverick staring down at her with concern swimming through his green irises “Hi Mavv! No wait no, I’m still mad at you so kindly fuck off” the smile forming on his lips stopped her from returning to her nap “Hello to you too, I know you are but can we talk.. Please?” after a few moment’s pasted, as she weighed her options, Y/N figured she could put a pause on her nap for another five minutes “sure, I guess” as she waited for him to drop down in the chair that was previously occupied by Hangman, but he continued to stand behind her “Let me guess, you want to talk outside?” the second he nodded, the agitated pilot lifted herself with a tired sigh as she stumbled slightly to the door.
The humid California air hitting against her flush face made her want to vomit, the only thing saving her was the almost non-existent breeze as she tried to focus on the man in front of her “You are good to fly tomorrow.. Well that’s if your hangover allows it” confusion swept over her features “A few hours ago you grounded me indefinitely just to give me the green light now, what changed?” The usually confident pilot started to fidget under her gaze, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N “You were right, okay I grounded you because of my own fears not because you weren’t ready, I’m sorry Y/N. It’s just after you passed out in the med bay, I couldn’t leave you and that’s when I realized something changed” The air around them felt suffocating as Y/N took a cautious step towards him, “Yeahh the Doc told me you were there for over three hours, Thanks by the way for being there…But… Pete what changed” curiosity was entangled in her words, as she tried to play it off as indifferent “my feelings towards you changed, my feelings weren’t friendly but instead It was me falling in love with you, but….” All of the air left her lungs as she clung to each breath he took as if the man standing in front of her was the only thing keeping her grounded on this god-forsaken earth. The warmth radiating off of his sunkissed skin was sinking into her’s but it still felt like he was miles away from her, before she was pulling him down to meet her lips. 
The groan that slipped past his lips felt almost intoxicating as she melted in the kiss further until it abruptly stopped. Maverick pulled himself away from her parted lips, Y/N froze wondering if she imagined it all but her kiss-swollen lips served as vindication. He couldn’t even look Y/N in her eyes, guilt loomed over him “but we can’t, Y/N we can’t”  Her dazed, doe-eyed facial expression dropped to an unreadable blank canvas “What the fuck Pete, what do you mean we can’t?? What is stopping us huh WHAT? He winced at her words, which felt as if they were punctuated with knives “We just can’t Y/N, I’m your instructor if the Navy found out they would fire us both, it’s inappropriate ..I-I shouldn’t have said anything I’m sorry” 
~~
The promise she made to her mother rang through her thoughts, ‘never let them see you cry, don’t give ‘em the satisfaction of knowing how much of an effect they’ve over you” but it was too late, she felt hot tears rolling down her face as she muffled the cry that escaped her mouth. She felt pathetic, ashamed of herself at this very moment for putting herself in this situation. Y/N knew from the start coming back to Top Gun was a mistake but she ignored the warnings, she still was ignoring them as Maverick’s hush tone pulled her into a false sense of comfort just by saying her name.  
Her body betrayed her in her delirious state, as she contemplated begging him to just give her something, even if it was just holding her shaking frame as tears soaked through his shirt but instead he couldn’t even look at her, and if he did look it would probably be ridden with guilt or pity. “Y’know Mav, out of everyone I never thought you would make me cry, but huh I guess some things change… Just, why the fuck would you even tell me? To get my hopes up? To hurt me?.....”  Her vision blurred from the tears, her only sign that he was still there was the dull sound of his apology ‘I’m sorry, Y/N' the sound made her wince as if it sounded more like nails on a chalkboard. “Pete, shut up I don’t care about your ‘I’m sorry’ just can you pretend for five fucking minutes that all your bullshit reasons don’t exist? Because I know for a fact you couldn’t give two flying fucks about the rules, because you are the reckless, and arrogant Captain Pete Mitchell so what changed? mm I have a working theory, y-you are scared of getting attached and then being a fucking failure when you deliberately ruin things…”  She wanted a reaction from Maverick just to know that her words had some effect on him, a small part of her hoped his response would be laced with malice just to give her a reason to hate him.
The heavy sigh slipping from his lips made her want to scream or even hit him, just to force him to feel even the slightest bit of pain that he caused her but even then it would just hurt her more to see him in that state. Her blood ran cold as she acknowledge the fact that she was nothing but a lovesick schoolgirl when it came to this man, he could stomp on her heart and fix it all with a small smile. Everything about this man overwhelmed her with conflicting feelings that should have never see the light of day, yet as those two vague words slipped past his lips, “Fuck it” she was hooked, waiting with bated breaths for him to give her anything to grasp onto. 
The feeling of warm fingertips skimming across the exposed skin of her waist flooded her system, the firm hand that tilted her head up was purposeful but felt foreign in every way. The overwhelming fear of rejection loomed over her as their lips met once again, with each passing second Y/N was memorizing the feeling of his lips against hers, the way the air felt so constricting around them as she grasp unto every detail that would later agonize her weeping heart in the late hours of the night.  Y/N felt as if she was drowning, every nerve in her body was overwhelmed,  and her head was buzzing from her thoughts flooding her brain… ‘why is he kissing me?... is this some sort of sick joke?’ Maverick’s lips twitched up into a smirk before a low groan escaped when his back was pushed against the outside wall of the Hard Deck, followed by Y/N’s full body weight. Y/N laughter was muffled against his lip as another groan of protest left his body, as a small 'sorry' 'filtered around them.
It was the calm after the storm as silence filled the void surrounding them, they stayed pressed up against one another “Mav, Where does this leave us now? Pete shifted his gaze from Y/N to stare blankly at the parking lot as if it held the answer, “We will figure it out tomorrow, but right now how about I take you home so you can shove me up against a different wall?”  Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his antics, even if it caused her cheeks to flush “hmm are you sure your back can handle that?”
Before she knew it she was being pushed off of him and steered towards Maverick’s motorcycle “Watch it, and ehh you’re worth the back pain, sweetheart”......
~~
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quotidian-oblivion · 11 months
Text
✨Out of context lines shitpost Pt. 3✨
Part 1 | Part 2
Quo: Do you want to put the sparkles in the title like we did in- Nogolsta: Of course. We're not savages.
@mispeltnostalgia and Quo bring forth more shit.
Hello, y'all enjoy the chaos cause i know i do :) -Nogolsta
The batfam but as things we said in public and in class:
Tim: I cleaned my floor, I washed the dishes, I did my h.w, I was productive.
Jason: Damn. The motivation demon possessed you.
Tim: Yeah it did!
Jason: Meanwhile… meanwhile…
Tim: What did you do?
Jason: *softy* torture
Tim: I love that
*high five*
~
Dick: *Starts sinking in his chair sliding under the table*
Also Dick: *Struggles to get up. Almost dies*
~
Steph: look if it's wrong you can blame me. I’ll even give you a crochet hook to stab me
Jason: I’d rather kill you with words
Steph: So I'd get on OC and you would brutally murder them?
Jason: Well, I do have an OC called Steph. Well its Christopher but I can shorten it
Bruce: What are you talking about?
Jason: Murder.
Steph: Specifically mine.
~
Special extracts from Tim’s essay about funeral rites in Egypt:
(Please note these are some extracts from Nogolsta’s essay outline. We don’t question it.)
The brain getting removed via nose with a crochet hook and the rest of the brain goop getting washed out with 💉drugs💉.
The flank (above the hips and below the booby area) is then cut open to scoop out the entire abdomen.
The cavity is then washed with palm wine and then with a ✨spicy blend✨.
Then it's filled with nice smelling things: pure myrrh(dur), cassia (another variation of cinnamon) but no frankincense (they don’t want the dead waking up now do they? Or else it’s gonna cause another Jason Todd). Then they sew the body up.
Body is chucked in natron (godly salt) for 70 days. No longer, no shorter (just like Dick) (Or Damian).
After this, the body is washed and wrapped in linen for that mummy look we all know and love.
Middle class funerals got less care (shockingly).
The body is injected with cedar oil through the butthole and is then plugged up like the hair in the sink.
(Note: Bruce got a call from the teacher about Tim being submitted to counseling.)
~
Dick: *walking backwards* I will make you hydrate
Tim: No you won’t 
Dick: you don’t have a choi- *walks into bookshelf and knocks books off*
~
Babs: and we could just sit and read fanfiction. I’m open to any Fandom as long as no romance or smut. I’m not comfortable with that. But I'm open to anything else. Especially ✨torture✨
~
Damian: Did you burn the paper I told you to burn?
Steph: Yeah!
Damian: Do you still have the ashes?
Steph: What? No, I burnt it in the fireplace, I’m not scooping it out.
Damian: *sigh* a pity. I was hoping to put it in a jar and look at it every day, reminding me of my dreams.
~
Wally: Oh no! We haven't been unpredictable enough today! Quick! Say something shitty!
Dick: I didn't bring a sandwich because we ran out of bread at home so Alfred made me a salad but I don't want a salad, I want a ham, cheese and tomato toastie. I mean, I love a salad, but I want a toastie *starts sobbing*
Wally:
Wally: I have regrets.
~
Jason: JANDBHWISHEVWBAKKXNFBFJEJDHRUWIQPD DNDBDHUS RBSKWDIHRVE SNAOSUEB
Bruce: *crying* Please- I will get down on my knees. Please stop.
Jason: NNJsjeuewjjJQJS EBSIWOSUEHEHBWBD RJE sndjjdidiwiwje
Jason: You have to say the ones not in all-caps quieter.
Jason: jwjduruwhsbdjriwi aanwjeiisjd NSNWOWORIRBEBSJA
~
Jason:*whispers* i have a torture idea
Dick: *facepalms in disappointment*
~
Dick: Our father has become a pigeon!
Jason: What?
Dick: *swivels phone to show a snap from Tim of Bruce with a pigeon filter on*
~
4 yo Damian: *grabs onto someone's leg in a crowd*
Jason: "raises the foot holding Damian with disgust* what the fuck are you?
4 yo Damian: you're not my father
Jason: I sure hope not. I haven't got any fuckers like you running around.
4 yo Damian: If you were my dad, I’d be sad.
Jason: Let’s find your dad you little shit.
Note: Nogolsta as a child was precious and savage at the same time 
Part 4
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Text
Writeblr Intro |~| Feedback Asks
Which, no idea how to make one, so do bear with me.
Tumblr media
About My Writing
It is very important to note that I write Dark Fantasy and that, therefore, some of my writings may not be for All Audiences. I have legit no taboos. This matters all the more as I have a very basic brain filter and thus cannot tag my posts appropriately beyond 'dark fantasy'.
And my specialty is character-driven stories and explorations of personality in my own original world called Aeyuu. I am obsessed with psychology and emotions, thus my stories revolve around those a lot. And around death. And Death. If you grasp the difference, boy are you gonna like my stories :3;
About my characters
There's a wide array of them, a chunk of them talked about on my website. I tend to drift from one to the next depending on my mood and, often, what series I'm watching/what games I am playing. My brain makes connections like that. It tends to be very inspirational, but also very chaotic.
Some of them have been with me for over two decades, started as roleplay characters, until I had to branch out and took all of them with me into a personal version of their world. These are the characters that forged me and my personality. They also have lives of their own. Lives I don't always condone nor appreciate, but I am merely the writer here.
About me
I'm a 40+ yo trilingual writer hailing from the Kingdom of Belgium, who discovered back in '23 that she's actually autistic. As mentioned, I am obsessed with psychology and emotions and my stories will always revolve around character lives and, sometimes, deaths. I'm also obsessed with Death. There are necromancers. Ponderings on the meaning of life. Y'know. All that deep thought shit that my brain craves and that I therefore put down onto virutal paper because must.
I'm also way friendlier than my stories may make you think, I do like to talk with people, I do like asks and questions and tag games (though sometimes I may be too tired/forget them - probably got a side of ADHD to boot), and there's absolutely nothing you can't throw my way as long as it's respectfully done.
I'll let the rest of my blog speak for me <<
In addition
You can check out my most used tags to quickly find my Tales from Aeyuu stuff or general writing, as well as a list of all the characters I have currently posted snippets for. And just get a general sense of the things I like to post about and/or reblog <<
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ostensiblyfunctional · 6 months
Note
iggy.....do you perhaps have any.... shadowgear headcanons..................... or thoughts........................................... <3 your brain is so interesting to me I need to examine how it reacts to sg under a microscope
LOL yes yes, here let me give you some brain tissue samples—
To be honest, I don't have much on Shadow Gear in my gray matter? Most of my thoughts on them comes from you or @/grayseyebrowscar, actually! But I have a couple things rattling around in my head, so here they are:
— Levy is feral when it comes to things that interest her, to the point that Jet and Droy have frequently had to restrain her from putting some poor soul into a centrifuge and seeing what filters out just because they wield a rare form of Jutsu-shiki or something like that. If it's weird and magic, or weird and of academic interest, or both, there will be a Levy trying to pounce on it, and a Jet and Droy going "no, don't pounce on that, what if it explodes." Jet and Droy frequently exchange commiserating grimaces with Evergreen and Bickslow when they have to wrangle Levy and Freed on the same hyperfocused rampage.
— I agree that SG are floor people, but to me Jet is also a what-the-heck-are-you-sitting-on-with-that-posture kind of person. If he fits, he sits. This means he sits on the floor, on armrests, on couch backs, on people if they're particularly unfortunate during a guild brawl, in the air of a doorframe, on refrigerators, on the guild hall's entrance sign, in the guild hall's rafters somehow, on the railing of the second floor—and even in normal chairs he sits sideways or spins them around to sit backwards or sprawls or does anything except sit normally. Droy frequently makes comments about the state of his spine because of this.
— I'm also wholly convinced that Jet has some beastman ancestry that influences his bone structure and teeth, and also maybe his eyes because I find it immensely funny to think of a dark guild mage getting scared half to death by shining a light on him and finding a red-pupiled blur (demon??) coming for their soul at speed.
— Droy seems the most normal of SG, but that's because Jet and Levy are subjected to his plant infodumps the most and he gets a lot of his gushing out of the way by the time he has to interact with the rest of the guild. A full half of SG's missions are plant-related because of him, either finding rare plants, or helping annual harvests of magical plants, or getting/safeguarding inconvenient ingredients for pharmaceuticals, or playing security for botanist conferences because he wants to hear some of the sweet, sweet botany discoveries. That, and some of the lectures in those botanist conferences are by him. He has a very robust greenhouse full of weird plants and occasionally Levy will edit his rambling about them into research papers and release them into the wilderness of academia for kicks. Neither of them were at all expecting scientists to track them down and scratch pitifully at their door like cats wailing to be let in. And now Droy gets to ramble annually around like-minded nerds and occasionally get into hair-pulling biting catfights about how to class amaryllis zephyrus, coloquially known as zephyrillis or wind-lily.
— Speaking of scientists tracking them down! SG definitely are roommates with their own house. I feel like they've known each other for a long, long time, before they ever joined Fairy Tail, and they're really comfortable around each other. Their smoothness in combat is borne from knowing each other since early childhood, growing up learning each other as much as they learned about themselves. This means they all have the eerie tendency to never bump into each other, in combat or not. It's easy to get in Jet's way if you're not used to how suddenly fast he can be, or accidentally bulldoze over Droy if he stays still too long and you forget he's there, or incidentally get smacked by a gesturing, excited Levy, but that's for other people. Not for them.
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voxofthevoid · 5 days
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Hi! I've been a long time reader of your works and we have like 3 fandoms in common (jjk, yuri on ice, mcu) which is the Dream for an average fic reader like me. Thank you for putting all these out to see. I love the way you write, it really pulls me in no matter the genre. Your mind is amazing.
On to the questions:
1.I kind of want to start writing myself, do you any advice for a beginner?
2.On average, for how long are you into fandoms? How much time does it take for the brainrot to take root in your mind?
3.What kind of media do you usually enjoy?
I hope I didn't bother you. Please stay healthy and safe!
That's delightful on my end too! Love seeing cross-fandom readers. And thanks so much ❤️
1. The advice I have is mostly social and technical. In terms of the writing itself, all the reading you do is likely to give you an idea of what you want to write and how to go about it, and practice will refine the process.
Given the fandoms you've listed, you're likely already familiar with how rancid fandom spaces can get. This depends on your disposition, but being braced to deal with shitheads is important, whether that comes in the form of puriteens or entitled assholes without a brain-to-fingers filter. This is mostly a case of "do as I say, not as I do" because *gestures* you know what my online presence is like, but I'd recommend the following:
(a) Make an account just for writing that's entirely divorced from any and all IRL information or even previous fandom shenanigans. It reduces chances of people digging through your history and other such demented things.
(b) Block liberally and, failing that, be enough of a dick that people will think twice about picking a fight—the more accommodating you are, the more these fuckers will act like sharks scenting blood. There's a reason I stopped accepting tag requests, slapped CNTW on everything, and generally adopted a "my way or the highway" stance toward everything I post. The alternative isn't worth it. YMMV, of course.
(c) Write whatever you want however you want, and don't show an ounce of shame or guilt. Even if you feel it, don't show it. Fake it till you make it. Like above, it's safer than the alternative.
The technical advice is to get a copy of the Chicago Manual of Style; there's an online version, a paper version, and also good old pirating. It may look intimidating, but it's got a beautifully indexed list of damn near every grammar and punctuation element (and a lot of other stuff). I started using it for work, and while I'm way more lax with my own writing than I am with editing, the CMOS still did wonders for my general understanding of the technical side of creative writing.
2. It varies based on a bunch of factors, but my usual pattern is to spend several months just reading while the obsession grows stronger and stronger, to the point I start getting ideas. And we know what happens when I get ideas 🤣. I generally don't stay in a fandom for more than a year. But there are exceptions! I was in the MCU for some three years. I started writing for JJK less than a month after watching it (though this is mostly because I couldn't find much to read—not because fics were low in number but because I was and am extremely picky), and I'm rapidly approaching my 1.5-year mark.
3. A mix of things, but so far, fantasy is the most common theme across various media. I enjoy most subgenres of it too.
And absolutely no bother! I had fun answering, though I may have gone overboard with #1. I feel a little protective of new writers these days because I keep seeing so much vile shit happening online.
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johaerys-writes · 14 days
Note
How did you get into your most recent patrochilles addiction? Was it Hades Game? The Song of Achilles?
I'm not sure what you mean by most recent because I've been obsessed with Patrochilles since 2020 when I read TSOA for the first time lol so not so recent, but I guess the last couple of years I've been writing mostly Patrochilles, and this year I've only had those two on the brain, so I don't really know what to tell you 😂 I feel like they've slowly but surely replaced all my other interests, and that’s partly because there's just so much stuff out there about them (tsoa, hades game, the iliad, a bunch of other myths and adaptations, non fiction books, academic papers etc) so there is no end to how much you can research/read/watch/think about. They are chatacters that have been loved, talked about, thought about for centuries, they are in a way part of our collective consciousness I feel, both when people engage with the Iliad directly, but also through the archetypes and themes/tropes that have filtered through western literature and philosophy as a whole. Like the iliad started as an oral tradition passed down from generation to generation, and then it was written down (the first ever text to be written down when the Greeks came up with their first widely used alphabet) and people haven't shut up about this story since. Like that's just so endearing to me, the way it still sparks discussion and discourse and yeah even drama lol can you imagine, like we're still getting into arguments about Achilles and Patroclus' relationship the way Phaedrus did about Aeschylus' interpretation in Plato's Symposium lmao that's just WILD. So yeah my obsession started with TSOA but it just kept growing to encompass every piece of media these two appear in lol.
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oliviabutsmart · 4 months
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[Bonus Physics Friday?] Plagiarism and Originality
So you (the reader) may have watched the recent HBomberGuy video. I have too! And it's honestly a great (yet long watch). I highly recommend you read it.
youtube
After reading the video, it inspired me to add my own comments onto what I think is important to keep in mind about plagiarism and it's relevancy to this blog.
Unintentional Plagiarism
You yourself may eventually have to write something in the future. Whether it be code, a school/university project, text/literature, or even an academic paper.
I'm certain you've had some anxiety in the past (usually in school) of "what if I wrote something that was plagiarised?" when submitting documents to your teachers.
This anxiety often arises because when you are doing an academic assignment, the subject matter has already been covered many times over, so many times you may end up stumbling your way into writing something that already exists.
It is, in fact, possible to unintentionally plagiarise. But it often comes in a different form.
As seen in his video, often times, creators end up sharing video techniques and ideas when creating new work. More broadly, a lot of our art or 'content' in-general is in some-form derivative.
Here's an example from my own posts, expressing a very common cycle in how we develop our opinions or knowledge on things:
You hear from someone, or in a video, or by reading in a book a particular opinion/fact/idea/expression
You keep the idea in your head but forget the source you found it from
Eventually, months to years later, you recall the idea you had and write it down in a public place
You don't credit the source of the idea because it's lost to your mind, you think you yourself came up with the idea
This gives the idea that your ideas are completely original, but are instead pulled from another source. This is what I mean by "unintentional plagiarism" - often you yourself don't even know it's happening.
After writing 16 Physics Friday posts, I can now at least recall a few times where this has happened to me. Usually by way of me re-watching a video or seeing a video on youtube after the fact, where I'm like:
"Hey, I remember watching this video ... Hey, this is where I got that idea from!"
There are two examples that I can list right now, in fact:
In post #8, the definition of "Energy is the capacity to do work" came from a video by 'Professor Dave Explains'' on youtube. I cannot recall which video I got it from, but I do know it was a debunk
The idea for post #9 came from a video by 'Answer in Progress' titled "how fahrenheit fails you"
In both examples, either small sentence-level statements or whole topic ideas effectively get "copied" by my mind. However there is a core distinction between what I have labelled as unintentional plagiarism, and real "you did a word crime" plagarism.
Our Textual Fingerprint
It is a fact that almost all of our ideas are copied from somewhere else. Teachers in high school, internet pundits, other posts on social media. These, combined with our cycle of forgetting the source, create an effect of "plagarism"
What's important is that all of these ideas amalgamate, and get filtered through our own brain. I might have gotten the "energy is the capacity to do work" definition from one guy, but it combines itself in my head with every other association and factoid about energy I know.
Not just that, but it filters through my own head and my own words into different explanations, different expressions, different language.
The way you yourself construct ideas in your head is why we can consider it okay to express an idea that is still somewhat derivative. Because our own words, our own expressions garble that idea into something that is distinctly our own.
And that's the core point about avoiding plagiarism, both unintentional and intentional.
The best way to avoid plagiarism is to write it in your own words Source: every teacher in high school
Every person possesses a sort-of fingerprint. It exists in the way we write, the way we talk, even the way we communicate in other mediums like auditory (music, speech) or visual (performance, artistic, video) formats.
This fingerprint is detectable to most people. It's how you can tell when someone uses AI to write an article. Because ChatGPT has it's own literary footprint.
If my next Physics Friday post was written by someone else, you would be able to tell. Because the way I write is distinct. The errors, the mannerisms, the explanations are all constructed in a way that make the way I write unique to others.
Why does plagiarism happen?
I've seen plenty of examples of plagiarism in the past. In fact, I remember in Year 9, someone copied my entire essay on Australia's role in WWI, and I got off with a slap on the wrist for being so naive to share it with another student.
And with this experience, I've found that there are two main reasons why someone plagiarises, at least in the academic realm:
They have a lack of respect for the subject matter or their victim
Laziness or apathy
This is something the above video makes a point of as well, adding on a drive for success. Something which I wouldn't say is as common in academic media.
Really, the best way to stop yourself from stooping to the level of intentionally plagiarising is one of two things:
Force yourself to write something original, to write in your own words
Don't write it. Take a break or reconsider why you feel the need to do it
This is often why I end up writing opinion posts. I'd rather do that than be a piece of shit and copy a Veritasium video. Seriously, it's so tempting to just do a topic that Veritasium has already covered - he's a great creator and always picks all the good topics.
How it's relevant to Physics Friday (And how Wikipedia is actually a decent source)
All of my Physics Friday posts are written in my own words, usually all at once or in two seperate sessions on Friday. There is occasionally the odd quote from Wikipedia or other online sources. But the text is usually my own.
I mostly use other internet sources, like Wikipedia, or others, to effectively re-jog my memory. It helps remind me of what a particular mechanism is.
I don't cite them because usually I only read small sentences and then go "ah, now I recall the textbook's worth of information stored in my head". My external research never ends up becoming a real source in a proper sense.
The only exception is Wikipedia and my own lecture notes.
While my posts are not copy-paste descriptions from Wikipedia, the website does help guide me on particularly difficult-to-understand subjects. It helps me decide what exactly to talk about. Or check which ideas are often more common.
One example is the dark matter post (#4). I used it as my primary source for deciding on what was the most notable dark matter candidates to talk about. And the section headers are derived in some way from their article.
You can generally assume that for all of my physics posts, I have used Wikipedia in some way as a knowledge-check, to ensure I'm not spitting nonsense.
In fact, I recommend Wikipedia as further reading after looking at my post if interested. And to donate to their organisation, which I have done on several seperate occasions.
Definitions and Single-Sentence Quotes
Outside of images, the most common place where I directly quote from other sources are in the definitions I've used. I cannot actually remember if I've ever done it before on tumblr, but I've done it in the past for several academic writings.
Definitions are tricky. Because, especially with precise scientific definitions, there are only so many ways to construct a definition that:
Removes all ambiguity from the phenomenon
Perfectly describes all or most instances of the thing, and excludes any non-instance of the thing
If I'm not coming up with the definition myself, I generally aim to find the source of the definition. Something that already fails in some ways, as explained above.
The Easy Part: Citing a Source
When writing academic papers, sources are probably the most annoying part of it. Bibliography management is a pain.
When writing these Physics Friday posts, citing is the easiest thing I can do. There's no requirement to follow a strict standard like the APA.
Often giving the author's name or a link to the original content is enough information to credit the author.
This is why you see an image credit or video credit under each of my Physics Friday posts. Sometimes also on meme posts too!
Should we cite our memes?
This is an interesting question. No seriously. Take a second to think about this question properly.
A lot of our memes (and porn) come from artists on youtube, twitter, tumblr, etc. And I have found countless times where I'm like "huh, I like this guys' work ... where can I find more of it?" and just turn up nothing.
We appear to think that memes are not just public domain, but un-creditable public domain. Someone on youtube can copy a guy's voice-over of a meme, turn on ads for that video, and rake in cash. The original artist ends up getting none of the credit, or money.
For a lot of memes, it makes sense to copy it without credit. But the above paragraph applies to a certain subsection of memes, particularly the higher-effort ones.
Personally for me, when I have the capacity to share a meme I try to credit the original artist. Because I believe that person deserves the credit for making the funny.
At least for us, credit means we ourselves gain from it, we can look up the original and find more of the same.
My posts aren't trademarked
It's obvious to say, but "Physics Friday" is not limited to me. My goal with these posts are to get other people into following on and making their own style of posts in physics. To generally bolster the community.
If you want to do the Physics Friday thing, you do not need to ask for permission. That's all I need to say.
Conclusion: Why did I write this?
I've just spent the last hour writing a tumblr post after watching a HBomberGuy video. And now I am just wondering why I did that.
I guess I had a lot of things to say about plagiarism and writing your own work.
Oh well.
Look out for next Friday where I'll probably do an opinion piece on tau vs pi!
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estevesia-whump · 3 months
Text
hell's right hand (1.21): from the shadows
CW/TW: captivity, violence, blood, vomit, (a child gets slapped in the face but is fine otherwise), malnutrition
as the continuation of 1.2, this chapter goes through one of the videos liexia & aurelie end up finding to get a better idea of what happened in that building, it's from kyre's pov.
-
-> video1.mp4 [play]
Was it the authorities he last spoke to? No, it must've been that private investigator, or so he called himself...
When the bag is removed from over his head, Kyre finds himself in a small room with maybe ten other kids. Nine, actually, after counting properly. He's for sure the only one who's at least eighteen, maybe the only that's above sixteen, but it's difficult to tell because most of them have small, gaunt faces and bones that stick out at the elbows.
No one speaks, but many of them sniffle every once in a while, a weak cry proportionate to their (lack of) body frame.
It's unclear to Kyre how much time goes by before a tall, lanky man enters the room, slamming the heavy door behind him. He doesn't even open his mouth until the echo is gone, and then when he does speak, his voice booms.
"This is where you'll be staying from now on. You are to obey and to serve without question."
"Who will we be... serving?" one of the slightly older children squeaks.
The man repeats himself, hardly even eyeing the speaker. "Without question."
Kyre stays quiet, but the other children don't seem to understand the gravity of the situation.
"Wh-where's my mom?"
"I needa pee, mist'r!"
"Are you gonna hurt us?"
"S'cuse me? I'm hungry."
"You're not gonna hurt us, are you?"
A clean smack across the first kid's face shuts everyone up.
"We will break each and every one of your bones if you don't listen to our instructions," the man shouts, a gun pointed not at any specific person, but everyone. "Understand?"
Suddenly infuriated, Kyre shoots up, lunging at the thin man and pressing him against the wall. The gun clatters to the side as he squeezes the older man's wrist. More of the children behind him begin crying, but aside from the ringing in his ears and the faint red coating his vision, he truly cannot hear or see anything else.
"I see you dare to defy me," the man drawls, spitting at Kyre.
Before he can properly filter the words through his brain, Kyre's begging. "Please don't hurt them. Do any-anything you want to me, but don't... not the others. Please."
The man snickers, but his voice has dropped to a smooth timbre. "Are you sure about that, dearest? Will you agree to all our conditions?"
"As long..." Kyre licks his chapped lips, "as long as you don't hurt the others. In any way." I'll keep the kids safe and find us a way out.
He's cackling now, and every one of his gleeful expressions only makes Kyre more uneasy. "Oh, of course. You said you'd do anything, hmm?"
"I... yes."
"Then let go."
Kyre loosens his hold, and he's kicked down so that he's kneeling before the taller man, who unlocks the door.
"Everyone but this boy, out."
The children scramble to leave with soft but quick footsteps. It's quiet for a moment after the door closes, and Kyre's eyes dart around for an escape. But other than the door, and the out-of-reach window narrow enough to allow only a few papers through, he's out of luck.
"You don't understand what we do here, do you?" he snarls, inching closer to Kyre.
The first kick lands on Kyre's shoulder, effectively knocking him on his side, but Kyre manages to grab the other man's leg, rolling to pull him down.
Three more men -- bigger, stronger ones -- bang open the door as Kyre smashes fist after fist into the thin man's face until he's bleeding from the back of his head and the nose, completely limp.
Kyre's knuckles are torn and raw already but he forces himself to stand up in a fighting stance again, ready to face off against the burly men in tactical gear. If he's going down, he's not going down without a fight.
He tries going for the legs again, but is quickly kneed in the stomach and shoved back onto the ground.
"Stop fighting and we'll take it easy on you," one of the men warns, pressing on to his neck while twisting his arm. Ignoring the pain from the nearly dislocated shoulder, Kyre rolls onto his back, preparing to kick.
He's punched in the cheek before he can make another move, though, the side of his face pressing against the concrete.
Flickering stars dance in his vision as the familiar taste of metal fills his mouth, crimson red pooling beside him. Is it his blood?
Kyre moves himself onto his side, trying to get rid of the spinning feeling, but to no avail.
A kick to the abdomen jostles his organs, forcing a torrent of sour vomit out onto the puddle of blood. Going unconscious would be convenient right about now, but his body just won't give up for some reason.
Kyre's able to take a few more gut kicks without throwing up, but the nausea increases nonetheless, as do the dull throbs throughout his body. The bruises and cuts are fine; they'll heal by themselves quickly enough, but he'll have to do something about the nausea.
He kicks someone's shin, and then groin as he pushes himself away from the blood and vomit. The gun's in the corner of the room; if he can just grab the gun--
A strong punch knocks the wishful thinking right out of his head, and Kyre's entire body drops against the concrete, more bruises blossoming all over his scraped skin.
When one of the men grabs his wrists, pinning him down, he twists, sending a needle-like pain through his shoulder and down his right side. Before he can stop himself, he lets out a groan, his muscles relaxing on their own.
The men take advantage of this immediately, pressing every one of his limbs down on the ground as Kyre coughs. His throat burns when he does, springing tears to his eyes as he lays there, completely spent.
"You done fighting now?" someone asks, and Kyre's eyes flutter closed, too exhausted to stay open.
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