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girlreviews · 2 months

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Review #263: Tracy Chapman, Tracy Chapman

You don’t get artists like Tracy Chapman come along too often, and it’s infuriating when they do, because you see the same old shit play out. People are threatened by their mere presence and the idea that they can make something so incredible, but especially that it might give marginalized people a voice. This record came out the year I was born, so it’s approaching its 36th birthday. It’s both unsurprising and also a little devastating at how relevant it remains in 2024. I’ll start by saying: I love it, her, I always have, and I have so many memories attached to this record. Some so sad and some really sweet, all really tender.

But I have something to say about both music critics and general white fragility when it comes to Tracy. Here’s a 1988 review from renowned critic Robert Christgau, self proclaimed “Dean of American Rock Critics” (are American rock critics some kind of authority too? Why’s that? Interesting.):

"Fast Car" is so far-seeing, "Mountains o' Things" so necessary, that it's doubly annoying when she puts her name on begged questions like "Why" and "Talkin' Bout a Revolution." Maybe I should be heartened and so forth that Intelligent Young People are once again pushing naive left-folkie truisms, but she's too good for such condescension--even sings like a natural. Get real, girl. B MINUS”

Where to begin? Firstly, that is the entire review. So you want to talk about condescension, Robert? You can start by referring to Tracy Chapman as a grown woman, which she is, and was, in 1988. And critic you may be, but you’ve never written a review that’s even half as good as Talkin’ Bout A Revolution, which is more relevant today than any of your writing. Why was about apartheid. Maybe you had the luxury of not giving a fuck. Assigning grades? B minus? Get real, boy.

Curious what grade you gave Paul Simon’s Graceland, an album recorded during apartheid, some in South Africa with an array of African musicians who he then toured with. This was both criticized and praised. The point is, it was very political, not in content so much, but in creation. So, when it’s done by an egotistical white man? Listen, I love Graceland but don’t think I won’t be looking into that with some serious side-eye. OH WHAT A FUCKING SURPRISE, PAUL SIMON’S 1986 GRACELAND RECEIVED AN A. Fuck all the way off, and then fuck off some more.

This album isn’t for you. Has it ever occurred to you that not every piece of music was made to be consumed by you? And to be declared worthy by you? Jesus fucking Christ, the audacity. She’s singing about poverty, the kind most people will never truly know. The traumatic kind. She’s singing about domestic violence, you know, the kind typically perpetrated by men against women and that too often takes their lives. She’s singing about a tense relationship with the police. She’s singing about escaping dire situations with a glimmer of hope that she might finally belong, that she might finally “be someone”… Only to find herself in seemingly just as dire ones. Do you relate, Robert? Let’s go back to 1988 and you just sit this one out. To be clear, it’s not entirely for me either! But when you have that awareness, you can hear something and still appreciate it. It’s not that hard.

Fast Car was still on the radio a good bit when I was growing up, and again, I think my Mom played this record from time to time. But my real connection to Tracy Chapman came to me in two different ways: VH1’s Pop Up Video, which I watched every single day before I went to school. Over and over, the same episodes. There was an episode that featured Fast Car, and I remember just being floored by the little facts that popped up. Her life had been so unbelievably difficult, with challenge after challenge — which is pretty damn clear in the song. The thing I always remember is that as a young girl, she had saved up her money to buy a guitar, and then her best friend stole it. As stupid as it sounds I think about that all the time. Anyway, this song is special, and everyone knows it, it’s massive, but it’s something different to everyone. Can anyone relate specifically to what she’s describing? Probably somebody, somewhere. Maybe lots of people. But I can tell you that I listened to this song curled up in my bed pretending to be asleep with tears streaming down my face. Wishing that some parts of it weren’t true for me, and wishing that some parts of it were. It’s both a gut punch and a cup of tea between my cold hands.

The second way was Baby Can I Hold You, which, and this kind of cracks me up, was covered by Irish boyband Boyzone in the 90s. Little baby me was pretty into Boyzone, but eventually learned that the original artist was Tracy Chapman. Obviously, her version is better. It hurts my feelings. Is it someone declaring their feelings? Or is it someone communicating the experience of an emotionally unavailable partner, and the words they long to hear? Either way, there’s an ache in it, and it’s beautiful.

Tracy Chapman has been having a major resurgence, because a white male country artist covered Fast Car and as a result an entire new generation of young people are being moved by it. While I kind of wish there wasn’t a cover like this at all, it’s been nice to see Luke Combs give Tracy Chapman the spotlight she deserves and make it her moment. They seem to have a sweet and thoughtful relationship, and he truly loved the record when it came out. He had it on cassette. It was really something to see Tracy on stage at the Grammys smiling, thriving, looking beautiful as ever and singing with that voice just shutting everybody the hell up. I also appreciate that he kept the genders the same in his cover. I’d love to know whether he chose that or whether she insisted upon it. Either way, it was the right call.

Chances are you’ve heard Fast Car, and maybe even Baby Can I Hold You. Don’t be a dweeb, this record is significant and I really believe you’re missing out if you go through your life without listening to it, but it’s your call. I’d like to personally thank Tracy Chapman and VH1’s Pop Up Video for their contributions to my life and the content of my brain. I love you both so very much.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #tracy chapman #fast car

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paradisetemporarilymisplaced · 3 years

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So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

#the old guard #tog #tog fanfiction #tog meta #immortal family #nile freeman #mine #damn look at me contributing to a fandom! that’s new #pls reblog if you like this my self esteem could really use it #I just love nile so much and I’m being the nile-centric content I want to see in the world #it is just genuinely nuts to think abt how this situation would be perceived by anyone outside the narrative #she just mysteriously heals from a fatal injury and then VANISHES!!! this should be national fuckin news #also I do think there’s a major hole in the story when you think abt social media #like the only time it’s even hinted at is right at the very beginning when Andy erases that girl’s selfie #and the concept of fuckin Reddit is not even brought up despite Copley’s stalker board being analog Reddit #there’s just a lot of places one could go with this which is very much what we got here #1k

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anaer · 2 years

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WALLY

WALLY WEST ok!!!

First impression:

Okay, so this is actually hilarious to me because my first impression of Wally was, like…Barry. As in, I read I think it was…Blackest Night because I wanted to get into DC after a lifelong commitment to Marvel, and that was right after Barry had come back to life, and I was like “Oh, damn. The Flash seems cool; I should read more with him.” SACRILEGE, basically. So I went digging into the annals of every good Flash comic before that, which was OBVIOUSLY Wally, but like I fully went into that not caring about the difference between them I just wanted superspeed fun. I was a fraud.

But honestly as soon as I started reading him, I loved him. I loved him more than Barry. Barry can go die, things were fine then. It was like…love at first sight, fictional character edition. I consumed SO MANY FLASH COMICS in SUCH a short time and Wally was all I thought about for, like, a month.

Impression now:

There has never and there will NEVER BE a character that I will EVER stan as hard as I stan Wally West. He’s the perfect character. Everything about him: made ENTIRELY for me. His sass. His angst. His PERFECT LOVE STORY. The way I connect to him as such a flawless representation of what Adult ADHD feels like to me (which in hindsight is half of why I immediately fell in love with him, but I mean: did I even know what ADHD was when I started reading the Flash? Hah. No.)

Oh my god, even his completely SHIT relationship with his parents, his self-worth issues, the fact that he is, in fact, better than everyone else around him (cough: Barry). Every time he’s an asshole, I adore. Every time he’s sweet, I adore. HE’S SO PROBLEMATIC. Why do people think he’s a perfect best friend type; he’s a grade A asshole!!! I mean, also he’s a great friend, but he’s the kind of good friend who knows he’s an asshole but makes it fun, so everyone likes him.

But honestly, it’s his character development. People always like to say that Dick embodies the whole legacy aspect of DC the best, becoming Nightwing, but that’s not true to me. It’s Wally. Wally learns, grows, develops, and surpasses Barry. It’s literally his whole story. And not just in story: there’s been SO MUCH conflict around him since they brought Barry back because he even became a hell of a lot more popular than Barry in real life, too, among fans until they decided to write him out of existence. It’s a testament to how strong his character was that they got rid of him for five years, and really fucked him over for a good decade, and he still has such a strong fanbase.

But, like, you grow with him. He goes successfully from like…this complete, utter asshole of a man-ho whose got a good heart to like…a still short-tempered but generally friendly, lovable, committed father and husband. And he doesn’t regress as a character; they’re not resetting him back over to where he started. His status quo successfully changed. His character development stuck, and he had a very clear character, a very clear personality, in a medium where a lot of other characters don’t get that. Personalities change with the writers, but even with that…Wally’s writers grew him so well, building one off the other until he developed into the character he is today. I never, ever get tired of rereading his Flash.

He's the greatest character in DC, fuck everyone else. No, I do not take criticism.

Favorite moment:

SO MANY. But the top one has got to be what he did to Inertia. That was really, really, really fucked up. But also there was that time his dad was like “hey I murdered your mom, join me in evil” and Wally was like “what the fuck, dad, I’m calling the police” and then Rudy had him beaten up by evil Russian speedsters.

OH. Or the time Rudy got Wally to join a cult by pretending to be a ghost.

WAIT NO.

My absolute favourite moment is 2016’s Rebirth, when he comes back. Those years without him were SO long for me, and I was so, so angry at DC. I had stopped reading entirely, and that comic was BEAUTIFUL and that hug between Wally and Barry was everything. And then DC fucked it all up but. That moment. That moment was so good.

I mean, but also, the VERY NUMBER ONE BEST IS:

Idea for a story:

All my ideas lately. There are way too many, and I am writing most of them. But to pick one:

Wally is a disaster bi who doesn’t know he’s bi because obviously everyone is into both and you choose, right?

Unpopular opinion:

Birdflash is the absolute WORST Wally ship, and the majority of people who ship it honestly don’t give a fuck about Wally. They ship it just to pair Dick up with someone to love him, and Wally loses all personality and semblance of himself. Honestly, I used to read birdflash because I will read pretty much anything with Wally, but the fandom turned me off. People act like it’s the default ship, like of course everyone HAS to ship them, and then Wally’s life becomes just…everything centered around Dick most of the time, I’ve even seen this to the point where people act like Wally’s relationships with Barry and especially Iris just don’t exist or matter. Those things are the things that make Wally who he is. I like Wally and Dick’s friendship, generally, but aside from canon shoving it down my throat, I wouldn’t even really categorize Dick as Wally’s best friend for most of his life. Maybe his old, childhood best friend, and the friendship still lasts, but for the bulk of Wally’s Flash run, his best friend was 100% Piper. Like, Dick was not one of Wally’s most important relationships. That was very much like a “someone randomly decided to make this a thing” without the actual story to back it up, which I find endlessly frustrating.

That being said, that time Dick and Wally roadtripped together is also one of my favourite issues and one of those peak ADHD Wally issues.

Favorite relationship:

Oh, this is the easiest. Wally/Linda. I’ve never loved a canon ship more. They’re perfect for each other in every way, they complement each other well, they build each other up, they EARNED their happy ending, and their kids are fucking adorable. Honestly, Linda was the best thing to ever happen to Wally, but I also love their relationship because its not just about making him a better person. She, too, learns and grows from their relationship, and she understands him, and they generally don’t have any like…super contrived, annoying relationship drama which is the bane of my existence in comics. I mean, aside from that one time Geoff Johns decided to make Linda leave and the cops decide that Wally had murdered her for no reason at all. Geoff Johns doesn’t count. Everything Waid did with them – and honestly, not even just Waid, this goes back to the FANTASTIC early days of them hating each other and growing into friends with Moessner-Loebs – was just…perfect writing. Linda’s a hero in her own right. When Wally “died” and she went after Kobra herself because she was so distraught I was shook. And then when Wally showed up again in that blast of lightning to stop Kobra from killing her it was so…good… Terminal Velocity is SO. GOOD.

Runners Up: Batflash. Roy/Wally. Piper/Wally. Hunter/Wally. Anyone-but-Dick-Grayson/Wally.

Favorite headcanon:

Wally is a super duper closeted bi. He doesn’t realise he’s bi. Everyone he’s close to has realised he’s bi. Linda knows. Piper knows. All the Titans know. (Roy definitely knows, hell yeah.) Wally isn’t even so much in denial as he doesn’t even think it’s a possibility, and it’s entirely Barry’s fault. Barry told him it was fine to mess around with boys, all guys do it, but then you settle down with a woman because you’re Straight. (Barry ALSO had some internal ish going on, I’m sure he worked it out at some point)

Anyway, Wally internalized that because everything Barry ever said is correct, so, no, Linda. He’s OBVIOUSLY straight, why would you think otherwise—so what if he made out with Roy, what does that matter?

#wally west #have i mentioned lately that i love him #i have more pictures but i'm lazy i should wally spam the wally blog #ask me

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samanddeaninpanties · 3 years

Text

Title: Lion’s Share

AO3 Link

Square Filled: Claiming

Ship: Dean/Jack

Rating: E

Written for the @winklinebingo

Tags: Dubious Consent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Jack Kline, Alpha/Alpha, Omega Sam Winchester (mentioned), Anal Fingering, Rimming, Anal Sex, Knotting, Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Jack Kline, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Dean Winchester, Jealous Dean Winchester, First Time, First Kiss, Banter, Arguing, Violence, the violence is fairly mild it’s mainly just the set-up for the sex, Wall Sex, Age Difference, Barebacking, Mentioned Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Mentioned Jack Kline/Sam Winchester, Come as Lube, Porn, Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Heart-to-Heart, Manhandling, Claiming, Mating Bites, Loss of Control, Roommates, oh my god they were roommates, POV Jack Kline

Summary: Jack is drawn to unmated omega Sam. His asshole alpha brother Dean is having none of it.

(A.k.a "Knot the omega you are looking for")

“What the fuck is this?" Dean snapped, throwing a bouquet of wildflowers at Jack as he stormed into the man-cave.

Jack caught it but his bowl of Reese’s Puffs cereal spilled and tumbled to the floor. He scowled at Dean and placed the flowers on the arm of the La-Z-Boy recliner. "Don’t tell me you don’t know what flowers are.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Why were they in Sam's room?"

"Because I gave them to Sam. Why were you in his room?"

"Putting his laundry in there. That's not the point. I'm pretty fucking tired of you constantly putting moves on him."

Jack raised an eyebrow before turning his attention back to the TV. "Sam's an unmated omega.”

"And you just conveniently didn't notice my scent marking?"

"Is that supposed to mean something to me? Your scent is inescapable, Dean. It’s everywhere.”

Dean snarled and grabbed Jack by his shirt collar and heaved him up out of the chair. "You’re too smart to be so fucking stupid. I meant on Sam."

Jack's breath hitched at Dean's fury but he raised his chin, stomping out any hint of weakness. "No, I didn’t notice."

"Well you should, Jack. Because it’s my knot that gets him through his heats. So I'm gonna tell you straight up: fuck off," Dean said.

Jack swallowed a groan and tried to extricate himself from Dean’s grasp. "No. Your agreement is out of convenience, not love. Maybe Sam wants to explore his options."

Dean forced Jack backward and slammed Jack against the brick wall by the open door. Sam could come back from the supply run any second and -

“Get off me," Jack panted and shoved Dean’s chest, hard.

The push sent Dean off balance but he didn't let go of Jack. He thrust Jack back into the wall and pinned him there. "I don't care what you think you have going on with my brother. He's not available."

Jack’s insides turned into liquid. "How do you know? Have you asked him what he wants?"

"Sam is mine. My brother, my omega, mine." There was a pounding in Jack’s blood, a click in his head. Dean’s lips were rosy; fuckable. Maddeningly distracting. Really, Dean’s whole face screamed omega at first blush but Dean had been quick to put those thoughts to bed.

"He’s never stated that. Can you blame me for trying? Sam's so pretty." Jack sounded needy and mindless rather than confident and in control.

"I don't blame you. I'm just telling you enough is enough.”

Jack quit trying to escape. It was fruitless. Dean was bigger and stronger and he just couldn’t. "Did you really think that if you ordered me to stop I’d obey?"

"Maybe I should put you in your place then."

Jack jolted, dick straining. Disgusting. Shameful. And so hot. His eyes wandered to the Foosball table, the unfinished bar, Dean’s toys, his whole domain. He was just another thing in Dean’s den to be used as Dean saw fit. "If you're trying to scare me it’s not going to work.”

Dean snickered. "Thought so. You dirty boy. Moaning and whining like a bitch in heat while I touch you."

Jack was dripping inside his pants. It didn't even matter that Dean was laughing at him, his dick, his knot, knew what it wanted. "You’re not my type,” Jack lied because he wasn’t ready to inflate Dean’s overblown ego just yet.

"Your type seems to be oversized omegas but we're going to fix that, aren't we?" Dean maneuvered Jack so he was facing the wall. “You want me to fuck you, Jack? Claim you?"

"Dean," Jack keened, canting his hips. His mind was stuck on claim claim claim. Such a derogatory word to use when playing with another alpha.

Dean dragged his teeth over the nape of Jack's neck. A threat, a tease. So unfair. "Bet you wish you could get wet for me." He snaked an arm around Jack's body, found his cock. Squeezed it. "I should keep you both.”

Jack groaned, rocking against Dean’s hand. Dean’s hand was fire, it was a brand. "You don't even like me."

"Who said I don't like you?"

"You did with your attitude. All the glaring and baring of teeth," Jack rasped and looked over his shoulder so he could gaze into Dean’s piercing eyes.

"Yeah, well. Maybe if you didn't choose to sniff around Sam... “ Dean pushed Jack's shirt up and over his head and threw it on the floor.

Jack drifted away from the wall, facing Dean to give him better access. "It was like that before I 'sniffed around Sam.'"

"Whatever." Dean started on Jack's pants. Once Jack was naked, Dean roughly grabbed Jack’s chin and consumed him with a heated kiss. His free hand stroked Jack. Slow. Torturous.

Until it wasn’t.

Dean let out a growl that shook Jack down to his bones, his innermost parts. He manhandled Jack back into position, nose facing the wall like he was a naughty child in time-out. And then Dean was sinking to his knees.

“What are you - oh!” Jack’s body threatened to collapse when Dean pulled his cheeks apart and buried his face between them, forcing his tongue into Jack’s hole. A place he’d never let anyone. A place that was only Jack’s.

Dean was deadset on barreling through any boundary Jack had ever had without bothering to ask him if it was okay. And Jack couldn’t even be mad, no one had ever made him feel this wanted, this desirable.

“Two little omegas,” Dean purred against hot flesh. His tongue was slippery-wet, fucking in and out, making Jack’s toes curl. Too much, not enough. “All for me.”

“Not an omega.”

“You will be when I’m finished with you.”

Jack wanted to laugh at the sheer idiocy of Dean’s statement. The certainty. Dean was letting his inner alpha run wild and dominate every part of their interaction and it showed. “You’re delusional.”

“Nah. I just know a knot-slut when I smell one,” Dean said and went right back to destroying Jack with that wicked tongue. Dean’s hand found Jack’s cock again and pumped him expertly as he ate Jack out. “Come on, baby. Give up the goods, make a mess in my hand. You know I need it, we need it,” Dean said, using his alpha voice.

Jack’s window of opportunity, his chance to fight tooth and nail, was long gone - not that it ever would’ve ended differently. Dean was too strong and Jack didn’t really want to get away, even if it meant the humiliation of being taken and claimed rather than being the one doing the claiming.

Dean wanted him, a turn of events he wouldn’t have expected a few short weeks ago. Actually, he wouldn’t have thought it possible twelve hours ago -

“Jack,” Dean said, nipping Jack’s ass cheek. Jack came with a soft whine into Dean’s hand, his sloppy, tongue-fucked hole clenching greedily.

“Oh, baby. You can do better than that,” Dean purred. Dean waited a few beats before pressing two come-slick fingers into Jack.

“I don’t understand.”

“Gotta scream for me, Jack. Gotta beg me real sweet.”

“Dean, no,” Jack said, his voice wavering as he fucked himself on Dean’s hand.

“Nuh-uh, try again. Dean, yes.” Dean added another finger and Jack was afraid he’d break, that he was being pushed beyond his limit, beyond what his body could take. His hole felt so small with Dean inside him, how on earth was an alpha cock supposed to fit?

“Can’t -”

“Yeah, you can, baby. And you will. And you want it.” When Dean started to withdraw his fingers Jack tried to turn and see - but Dean was prepared for that. “No moving. Not yet.”

Jack huffed and settled. “You’re really starting to get on my nerves, Dean.”

“Welcome to the club,” Dean said, his giant hands using Jack for support as he returned to his feet. He only removed his hands long enough to rid himself of his clothes, tossing them into a messy pile, and then he was back to crowding Jack against the wall. And oh, Dean’s cock burned even hotter than his hands. He humped between Jack’s cheeks, making his home near Jack’s hole. Ready to claim it properly any second. “That’s how you make me feel all the time.”

“So, I was right! You can’t stand me,” Jack said, trying to avoid the sting, trying to ignore the ache and embarrassment. He’d been told more than once he was too sensitive for his own good. His hurt was confirmation, proof the criticisms were correct.

Dean kissed the nape of Jack’s neck, dragged his lips along it. Jack’s body was a treacherous thing because he arched into the contact like the slut Dean had proven him to be. “It’s complicated. C’mon Jack, don’t act like you don’t get it. Sometimes love can be hateful. We hurt people we love more than we hurt people we couldn’t give a damn about.”

“Shut up, Dean.”

“Aw, baby. I have what you need,” Dean crooned and began pressing his cock into Jack’s ass.

The impossible stretch made Jack’s eyes water. “I can’t,” Jack choked out. He squirmed as Dean sank deeper and Jack’s inner alpha screamed at Jack to fight. To push Dean away. Out. “You have to -”

“Relax.” Dean soothed his big, callused hand over Jack’s lower back. “You’ll work yourself into a panic if you don’t.”

“No, Dean, you don’t understand. We were wrong to try. Alphas aren’t made to fit a knot,” Jack said, his last words breaking and twisting into a moan.

“Feels right to me. Looks awesome, too.” Dean grabbed the meat of Jack’s ass. Spread Jack’s cheeks as he continued to glide in, punching the air out of him with each thrust. Jack could only ride the waves of discomfort in hopes he came out the other side relatively unscathed. “Your hole is doing the work it needs to do. I’ve got you.”

“Okay, Dean,” Jack groaned. Nodded. He ached more than anything but Dean believed Jack could handle Dean’s cock - so Jack could trust him.

“I wanna take you hard,” Dean panted, licking a hot stripe along Jack’s neck.

“You really wanna mess me up, don’t you?”

Dean laughed and shoved in brutally, cock pulsing with the need to knot. “Only in the best ways.”

“Please shut up.” The pace was quick. Bruising. There was a choking relief at being fucked.

“Oh, I got a ‘please’ this time? Gotta mark this on my calendar, write it down in my diary. ‘I dicked Jack so good he said please. Can’t wait to do it again.’”

“You really are an asshole,” Jack said, face flaming from humiliation as Dean cackled like a lunatic. Dean was teasing Jack and it wasn’t nice - but he’d said something very important, too. Something Jack needed clarification on. “Do you wanna fuck me again, though?”

Dean hummed. Kissed the lobe of his ear. Breathed into it. “Hell yeah.”

Jack whined and yelped as Dean’s next shove hit just right. “Dean, you’re killing me.”

“Better start working on your stamina, kid, because I have no interest in going easy on you. Ever,” Dean promised as he plunged deep into Jack.

Jack came unexpectedly with a sob, lost as Dean fucked him through the aftershocks. “Dean - please. Please can we -” his voice cut off, moaning as Dean pulled out of him. His ruined hole clenched on nothing. An eager, hungry thing.

“C’mon,” Dean ordered, tugging Jack away from the wall and over to the recliner. Dean sat first, patting his lap expectantly. “Sit on me, baby.”

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. His legs were desperate for a break. He scrambled onto Dean’s cock as fast as his body would let him, moaning as he sank down, taking everything. His puffy, abused hole so happy to be filled with Dean’s giant cock. “You have to come, too, don’t leave me alone,” Jack finally rasped, rolling his hips.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you in a minute,” Dean purred. Squeezing the globes of Jack’s ass.

When Dean’s knot started to inflate it was bigger than anything Jack had imagined, it filled up every empty space and then some, and Jack thought he’d scream or stop breathing altogether when Dean’s knot almost popped out and he dragged Jack closer to him, making sure his knot and come stayed in. “Told you. I’m too small,” Jack said faintly as more of Dean’s come shot inside.

“I disagree,” Dean said in his smug alpha tone then bit down on Jack’s neck, leaving a raw, tender wound. A claiming mark. “Mine.”

“Dean. I didn’t say you could do that.” There was a not-so-secret part of him that liked it, that just needed to be forced. Playing with Dean made him feel insane.

“You didn’t have to.” Jack smacked Dean’s chest and he caught Jack’s wrist in his tight grip.

“Need more training, huh? Maybe when my knot goes down I should tie your feisty little ass up in my room, keep you near me always.”

Jack bared his teeth. “Dean, you can tease me all you want, it doesn’t change anything. I’m an alpha. Not an omega. I’m going to keep wanting what I want.”

“You still want Sam.” Relief trickled into Jack. It wasn’t a question. Maybe they were getting somewhere, maybe there was hope this could end without too much drama or tears. “I get it. Anyone with half a brain does.” Dean faltered, fell silent again. Jack tried to give Dean room to think, tried to wait. For a few seconds, anyway. He wracked his brain for a solution. Couldn’t leave Dean alone. Coax it out of him. Jack tossed his head, gazed at Dean through his lashes, and milked Dean’s knot. Come on, Dean. You can do it. And then - success. Dean’s eyes softened and he let go of Jack’s wrist. “You got under my skin in a way others didn’t. Hasn’t done great things for me. I know Sammy loves me. But I could just stick with him the rest of my life and be happy - I don’t think the same could be said about him. So, yeah, maybe I was feeling a little, uh, threatened by you or whatever.”

For a heartbeat, Dean looked so damned sad. Little boy lost. It was gone in a blink but Jack had seen it. Dean’s insecurities, his fears, laid bare for Jack. “You know he doesn’t need to choose, right? If Sam needs more than just you… he could have it all? We could share?” Jack placed a hand on Dean’s cheek. “I won’t try to replace you, Dean.”

Dean hummed. His gaze roamed over Jack, making Jack’s heart jump. “Maybe you could have a supervised session. If you can earn it. I want you all to myself right now, though.” Dean didn’t give Jack a chance to pout, pulling him into another life-changing kiss.

“If you want me all to yourself, fucking me with the door wide open was a bad idea. What if Sam sees?” Jack croaked when the kiss broke. Dean tweaked Jack’s nipples, growling playfully. Even if Jack wasn’t full of Dean’s knot, he had a feeling Dean wouldn’t bother locking them away somewhere safe and private.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Jack let himself melt into Dean and drifted off on his knot.

#winklinebingo #winkline #deanjack #dubious consent #alpha!dean #alpha!jack #alpha/alpha #claiming #this was posted on ao3 last month but i forgot to make an official post so here it is now #writing #tori writes

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zet-sway · 2 years

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More Andromeda thoughts - a lot more positive this time. Wall of text.

There may be spoilers so I'm doing a readmore.

I like the Tempest. I'm a lil cheesed that Ryder's cabin is SO MUCH BIGGER than Shepard's, but it's not a military ship so, ok. But damn that's a fucking nice cabin dude.

Mining resources is fun, I like it. Also means I'm gonna be playing this game for a long time because I'm always checking every corner of everything lol

Vetra 😳

I had a preconception that Peebee would be annoying. I've known her for like five whole minutes, but so far, I like her.

I CAN MAKE N7 ARMOR??? I feel like I shouldn't be allowed to but FUCK IT - I'm going to make it. I suppose this armor was originally intended for Alec, otherwise I'm not sure why I would have it.

I hope I get to learn more about Ryder's background

When do I get my brother??? Pls thank u I am interested in meeting him.

The environments in this game are GORGEOUS.

And now I'm going off on a tangent.

Ok - beautiful games. Let's talk about that.

I have very limited knowledge about how video games are made. But on a basic level I understand that artists make textures, and someone makes 3D geometries, and those two things are married together to make what you see on screen.

When you play Mass Effect 1, you can see how limited their budget was by looking at the environment detail. Art and models take a lot of time. Someone has to make those things. This is why assets are often reused because making fresh assets is time consuming. Low environment detail isn't inherently bad, that's why I say "low budget" instead of "low quality." They aren't the same thing. Assets simply cost money.

ALL of the Andromeda environments I have seen so far are RICHLY detailed. The ships, the planets, the people, and so on. A lot of people worked really hard to make this game and you can see it plain as day the moment you load into the cryo area and there is so much attention focused on the Hyperion.

And you can see how much the fucking artists really cared about what they did. It's gorgeous. I'm so glad they had the budget to flesh the game out like this. And the soundtrack as well is amazing so far. It has a totally different feel to the trilogy but that's okay, it's still an awesome soundtrack.

Now I know that just because a game is beautiful doesn't mean it's GOOD - and I'm not calling Andromeda bad. But as someone who went to school for design, I can't NOT acknowledge the hard work of the design team on the environments. And the environments are one thing that generate player immersion.

Am I immersed? Yes and no.

I'm a bit overwhelmed by the amount of menus and features available to me thus far. But that doesn't make the game bad. It just means I'm proceeding slowly while I get used to it. When I played Majora's Mask - one of my all time favorite games - I also found that game overwhelming at first (took me many playthroughs to get the hang of Clock Town, as well). So I'm immersed until I run into a giant menu of features I need to look at lol.

But Majora's Mask is an interesting parallel to Andromeda as well because it's a sequel telling a new story in a new environment.

Majora's Mask has the same menu setup, the same keybinds, the same basic functionalities of Ocarina of Time. It has a host of new shit too but it still feels like a sibling of the first game.

That's kind of where I start to understand the criticism of Andromeda. This game does not feel like a sibling of the trilogy. It feels like a cousin or something. But again, that doesn't make it a bad game.

HOWEVER - at this time, that's really the only criticism I have of this game. Unfamiliar menus, odd design choices.

A lot of this may stem from Bioware actually having the budget and technology to make the game the way they wanted. I'd be very interested to know how Bioware would have made the trilogy if they had the resources they had when they made Andromeda. Because there is SO MUCH to look at, so many interesting weapon and armor choices. In my opinion, me being overwhelmed is not the games fault, I'm just easily overwhelmed. But when I take some time off the game to kind of digest the experience I'm having, I find myself wanting to come back to it. So I'd call it a pretty damn good game so far.

I will say I find myself missing the characters from the trilogy. But I like to think that the people on the Ark also miss the trilogy characters too. They did leave that galaxy behind forever - and almost everyone they knew from the Milky Way is probably dead now. That's heartbreaking for them. So I think it's normal for me to be missing my favorite characters.

Anyway I'm enjoying this game so far. I hope more people will give it a chance.

#zet plays andromeda

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jensungf · 4 years

Text

𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄? ฅ 𝐥.𝐣𝐧

summary: your mother always told you a lot as a child — about how you should always be kind to others, to always watch out for stray kittens in dark allies on your way to school and most importantly, to not judge a book by its cover. you didn’t always listen to her. yet you would have to say your biggest weakness would come in the form of cats. and maybe lee jeno as well.

pairing: shy!reader + badboy!lee jeno genre: high school!au, fluff<3 word count: 1.8k warnings: language, mentions of disease

author’s note: another one of my blurbs that accidentally turned into a really long drabble hehe i hope the anonnie who requested this enjoys! <3 as always constructive criticism is appreciated and you can request after checking my prompt list.

just like every other caring parent, your mom went on and on about what she deemed to be important life lessons during your childhood, and even now — about how you should always be kind to others, to always watch out for stray kittens if you pass by the alley next to the flower garden on your way to school and most importantly, to not judge a book by its cover.

you tried your best to listen to her. you really did. but sometimes, people had weaknesses and besides your more than often bouts of procrastination and incessant affinity for watermelon sour patch candies —

(“if i was your dentist, i’d probably hate and love you,” jisung snickered as you shot him a look of confusion. “‘cause you must have hella cavities but that would mean i could charge you more money! i’m so sm- ow, that hurts (y/n)!” you rolled your eyes after picking up the bag of watermelon sour patches you had thrown at his forehead and ripping it open to pop one in your mouth)

— yet you would have to say your biggest weakness would come in the form of cats. cute, fluffy, insanely adorable stray cats.

although you had your fair share of friends, you preferred to stray away from human interaction (honestly, it was too much of a hassle, you were never really the type to approach people first anyways, your shyness getting the best of you and you preferred it that way), you preferred the company of much smaller, fluffier animals. although your mother always warned you about the dangers stray animals possessed, whether it be how they could carry rabid diseases or put you at risk of bad luck, you stopped hesitating to bring some snacks for the poor, small kittens years ago on your daily walk to school.

you paused as soon as you heard a small mewl followed by some rustling and shuffled your feet forward, peering into the dark alley before you felt something nudge against your leg. you jumped back, but let out a sigh of relief. you crouched down, holding your hand out for the tiny kitten to nuzzle against.

you cooed and reached into your backpack, bringing out the cubes of watermelon you had packed earlier before gently offering a piece to the black and white kitten.

“what do you think you’re doing?” a gruff voice asked, causing you to flinch and jump back. your head snapped up, only to find the source of the voice to be someone who scared you a lot more than you liked to admit.

lee jeno.

everyone who knew anyone knew that lee jeno fit in with the cliche archetype of a bad boy. he hung out with his troublemaker friends in a group of seven (including jisung, but how you still managed to be friends with that giant noodle without encountering his friends, you will still never know), with rumors spreading like wildfire amongst your peers of them always being late to school, stirring up mischief with their motorbikes and causing ruckuses during detention.

you didn’t expect him to be here out of all places.

he was never the center of all of the attention, preferring to stay behind his loudmouth friends and observe quietly, laughing whenever donghyuck or jaemin would make a joke and joining in with his friends’ antics whenever he felt like it. but make no mistake — the moment anyone saw his muscular arms and the glint in his eye, they knew he wasn’t going to be one to mess with.

you realized he was staring you expectantly, waiting for an answer but your brain seemed to short-circuit from surprise. you opened your mouth, desperately trying to rack up a response with your pea-sized brain (stupid y/n, why did i have to forget how to speak an entire language right at this very moment?, you groaned internally) before closing your mouth and averting your eyes to the very interesting concrete ground.

“cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased, smirking almost flirtatiously. (you never noticed it but jeno’s ears flushed red, not knowing where this sudden confidence came from. he usually wasn’t the type to flirt… at least not like this in broad daylight with a random pretty stranger. he’d be damned to say jaemin was finally rubbing off on him.)

you bit your lip, unsure what to say back and cursed yourself for being so awkward. you glanced briefly at his figure, his broad shoulders donning his signature outfit of a black leather jacket, low cut almost hawaiian-looking shirt and ripped skinny jeans (it was literally so sunny outside, how was he not sweating in that? also, did he ever wash that jacket? you could’ve sworn you had never even seen him without it) before pressing your lips into a firm, thin line.

your eyes fluttered down to the kitty, ignoring him, yet you were struggling to remember how to breathe properly. your friends had always called you shy, albeit approachable, but you never realized how difficult it was for you to just simply talk to someone you actually sort of wanted to talk to until this very moment. why was just saying a single word so hard? and why did it have to be the school’s notorious bad boy here with you out of everyone in this town?

he frowned, not used to girls blatantly ignoring him, but it wasn’t the first time it happened. he tried to search your face for any sign of recognition, but you were too invested in the cat, or rather, his cat to pay him any attention.

(he’s never been jealous of a cat before but he’d never admit that at this moment, he would’ve liked to switch places with nal. what a nice life it must be for a cat to be fed watermelon all day and be coddled with attention and affection from a pretty girl.)

“how’d you know she liked watermelon?” he asked before bending down. your eyes flickered up until you realized how close he was to you, only a few mere inches away from your body. you shrugged, not trusting your voice to speak.

“nal,” he whispered, bending down to your level, whistling to coax her towards him. she meowed, licking the last bit drop of watermelon juice on her paw before pouncing towards jeno, her fluffy tail looping around his beat-up hightops. his usual stoic expression curled up into a boyish grin as he started petting her and murmuring praises of how adorable she was.

you could hardly believe your own two eyes. lee jeno, everyone’s picture-perfect example of a bad boy who looked like he walked straight out of the cheesiest teenage rom-com flick was ... a softie for cats?

never in a million years would you have pictured this in your mind.

you tried to stifle the laughter bubbling in your chest, but jeno looked up to catch your eyes. heat crept up your spine and consumed your face, causing you to look back down at the kitty who was nuzzling against him again.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows.

you couldn’t help it if your heart decided to do somersaults seeing his innocent expression, resembling that of a confused five-year-old child.

you shook your head before softly asking, “she’s yours?”

he bit back a grin at finally hearing your voice and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a silver chain collar with a charm (engraved with “nal”), the silver bell attached to it lightly jingling. how ironic yet fitting, you thought.

“i can’t take her home with me because i’m allergic, so i let her roam around here and visit every day until i can find a place for her to stay,” he explains as he scratches her behind the ear, earning a delightful meow before slipping the chain over her head.

you took a step back, mentally taking a snapshot of this moment. you couldn’t help but giggle lightly once you realized that jeno and nal looked almost exactly alike, as if nal was jeno in cat form, with her black and white fur adorned with a chain collar looking exactly like his usual monochromatic outfit and worn black leather jacket, not to mention the silver chain bracelets and necklace he wore all the time.

jeno’s head snapped up once again to watch you laugh.

his heart thumped a little harder than he would’ve liked to admit.

“bad boys don’t take care of stray cats,” you say, finally locking eyes with jeno. “especially the bad boys who are allergic to cats,” you smile.

he shrugged, his boyish grin still etched on his handsome face. (screw handsome, you couldn’t lie — you’ve wondered on more than one occasion how blessed his parents must be to have a son whose looks could rival a professional model’s face.)

you couldn’t help but notice how different he seemed now, looking more like a carefree and lovable child rather than a reckless troublemaker.

“don’t judge a book by its cover, sweetheart,” he said before giving you a wink, starkly contrasting with the way he tried to hide how he scratched his reddening nape afterwards.

he gave one last gentle rub to nal’s head before standing up, getting on his motorbike. he looked back, with a glint of something in his eyes. “need a ride, sweetheart? or the cat still got your tongue?”

you froze in your spot, feeling your face turn hot with embarrassment. you weren’t used to this. it was the school’s bad boy after all.

but you could get used to it.

mustering all the courage inside of your shy mighty heart, you look down at nal and gave her a gentle kiss on the top of her head, letting her nibble on one last piece of watermelon.

“my mother always told me not to judge a book by its cover,” you mused, a hint of playfulness in your voice. “i guess i was wrong about you.”

“i’m y/n,” you added shyly.

jeno’s eyes crinkled into crescents, a genuine smile forming on his face.

“jeno.”

you walked hesitantly up to his bike, and took a seat behind him gingerly.

you let your arms fall to grip the sides of the seat, before jeno shook his head and lifted your hands up to wrap your arms securely around his toned torso. “hold on tight.”

guess your mother was right after all.

+ bonus blurb!

#jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #kwritersworldnet #nct dream scenarios #nct dream blurbs #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #fluff #jeno drabbles #drabbles #high school!au #badboy!au #i love badboy!jeno so much THIS WAS SO CUTE #leyna writes #hehe if anyone cant tell the symbol is a cats paw

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k0dzukwen · 3 years

Text

ʚ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 ɞ

- ”I would’ve never thought I would have to say goodbye to my paradise so soon...”

pairing: tendou x gn!reader

genre: angst, tragedy

word count: 1.7k

song inspo: mr. loverman by ricky montgomery mixed with as the world caves in by matt maltese

warnings: major character death, mentions of eating disorder, mild cussing, hospitals,

pre a/n: if you wanna blame someone for this idea blame rex orange county, jjk newest ep, and my bestfriend ANKNKA ok but fr...i was thinking of who to do for this for about like..30 mins, it was between tendou, kita, and atsumu. i’ll try to do atsumu tonight because i have a AMAZING prompt for him ok? anyways enjoy this :))

“I can show you everything”

You wanted to be shown everything once, you were so eager to go everywhere and memorize every detail. And there was one person who you wanted to travel everywhere with

Satori Tendou

You were captivated by him, thoughts of him fogged your mind daily and you could barely focus. You knew he was the one for you that day you first started as a manager and he offered you candy, along with asking if you read manga. His smile when you said yes and accepted his snack made you melt on the inside, you practically started floating when he sat next to you and started talking about character complexes and powers. You listened to him for hours that day, you secretly wished he had invited you over so he could talk to you more. You went to sleep that night reminiscing over every word, every sentence, every laugh you both shared.

Were you really that head over heels after one day?

As the days went by you and Tendou grew closer, becoming best friends within weeks. Yet the sparkle in your eyes when he smiled and laughed never faded, the warm feeling from being with him remained with you only growing stronger. You always fell too easily which left you vulnerable to getting hurt, yet with him you wanted to open yourself up completely hoping he would do the same. Months turned into years and before you knew it, You guys were graduating. Everything went by so fast you would believe you blinked and suddenly became a third year, now you were laying in the grass behind the dorms stargazing with your bestfriend who you had unironically fallen in love with. Have you told him how you felt? Nope

“Do you know what paradise is?”, Tendou stared up at the sky the slight light from the lights nearby illuminating his face and causing his eyes to sparkle

“Something or someone you find comfort in, Something you’re so addicted to just doing it or being around it brings you unimaginable joy. You can’t and won’t imagine ever leaving it or stopping it voluntarily” You sighed and looked over at him, gazing into his red eyes, “Why do you ask?”

He laughed and closed his eyes, breathing deeply “This is my paradise...I don’t think I’m ready to leave..” He opened his eyes and smiled, “But you know, This is a part of growing up right?”

“Ugh..” You huff and sit up, “What the hell is growing up anyways?”

Tendou sat up and shifted closer, leaning in so his nose could almost touch yours, “You aren’t old enough to understand”

Your face flushed a deep pink, he was so close to your face if you accidentally moved closer your lips would meet. You smiled at him and burst out laughing, laughing so hard you had to lay back down and hold your stomach. He laughed too, laying next to you and continuing to point out constellations like nothing had happened. What did he even mean “You aren’t old enough to understand”, he was only one year older than you so what did he mean?

Did you really want to know?

You never really understood the term “growing up”, deep down you wanted to stay a a kid forever. You knew that growing up brought unwanted pain and stress and even trauma, if you weren’t stressed with college enough you also had to deal with paying for bills on your studio apartment and making money from the cafe you worked at. And to make it all worse your best friend, the guy you were lovesick for was moving across the country to pursue his dreams

In Paris

You always asked why Paris, didn’t he want to go pro in volleyball? Wasn’t that his paradise? You knew you wanted the best for him but deep down you didn’t want the love of your life to move across the country, you knew you would both lose communication with eachother, you knew he would forget about you and you didn’t want to bear that pain. Yet he didn’t want to listen, he left to paris and exactly what you predicted happened. You started off calling him every day along with texting him, sending him pictures of what you did in everyday life. You didn’t have many friends so you often found yourself waiting for his reply, you knew his job was time consuming but impatience still got the best of you. Hours without a reply turned into days, the realization that you had lost your love ate at your soul. You found yourself skipping meals, and slacking off in school. You knew it was unhealthy and that you needed to stay strong but you couldn’t, his laugh and smile lingered in your dreams. You missed him dearly, but still couldn’t get the confidence to dial his number. One day you couldn’t take it and booked a flight out to Paris, you thought at the moment it would be the best option.

You never even left the hotel

You paced around the room, the TV playing in the background. You knew the chocolate shop he worked at and had a way of transportation but couldn’t bring yourself to go, what if he didn’t remember you? What if he had someone else? You tried to talk yourself up, motivating yourself to press the button

“God damn Y/N just-” You were cut off by a breaking news report, Your gaze switched from your hands to the TV. You squinted at the screen as it showed a report of a young male involved in a car collision, you didn’t even know what the instinct was but you ran out your hotel room down to the lobby, you busted through the entrance and started to run to the hospital the news report specified, tears welled up in your eyes as you ran praying that it was just a mistake. You prayed that the male in critical condition wasn’t who you thought it was, you stumbled and bumped into people as you ran saying a quick “I’m sorry” and keeping your pace. You arrived at the hospital and bust through the doors, running up to the desk

“Please miss, Who was the man involved in the car collision? The one in critical condition?” Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at the woman in front of you expectantly

“Oh, at first we labeled him a John Doe but after further inspection we have confirmed the mans name is...Satori Tendou, We really shouldn’t give out this info but you seem like a family member or-”

The nurse continued on but you couldn’t hear, everything went silent as if you had just became deaf, Your knees felt weak and threatened to give out. It couldn’t be him, You shook your head and covered your ears despite the fact you couldn’t hear anything, everything started to swirl together like a fever dream. Thats right, it was just a dream, This wasn’t happening. You were gonna wake up from this crazy situation and go see your bestfriend, You were gonna finally see your best friend and he was going to be alive and healthy. Everything was going to be just fine, This was just a sick nightmare thats it

“Excuse me, this is his room. I’m sorry but he has about 20 mins left to live, he can hear but can’t move or respond to anything...I’m sorry”

The doctor patted your back and left the room, gently closing the door to avoid startling you. You hadn’t spoken a word since the news was given to you and of course, you didn’t take it well. You broke down completely, the nurses had to escort you to a room and try to calm you down

But even now you felt nothing but numbness

You stared at Tendous body blankly, gazing at all the tubes coming out of him, the beeping of the heart monitor and pumping of the life support machine kept the room from being completely silent. You felt tears well up into your eyes again and this time you didn’t fight them, you slowly walked towards his bed and gently touched his face. You could feel his face flinch and heard a wimper escape from his body, you let out a quiet sob and placed your hand over your mouth. You remembered how the doctor said he could hear you and feel everything

Feel Everything

He could probably feel the tubes and they were probably painful, He probably didn’t think that life was worth so much pain.

“Tendou...” Your voice cracked and you sniffed, “I’m so sorry...I should have been there..for you” You sighed and sat down in a chair, leaning on the bed “Did I ever tell you about my paradise? Well unlike you...My paradise was a person, They were super funny and their smile could brighten anyones day” You smiled at the last part, unknowingly laying your head on the bed, “They had am amazing laugh too...It was so contagious I learned to memorize it, whenever I was around them...I felt like I was complete. I felt like I had a life worth living when they were around, I loved them..letting them go was the hardest thing, but at least they were safe and happy...” You started to choke up, tears streaming down your face, “You’re my paradise Tendou...I’m in love with you and I want to stay here forever if It means I’ll be with you”. You looked up at the monitor noticing how it was slowing down, You didn’t know much about medicine and medical things but you knew that wasn’t a good sign. You gently grabbed his cold hand and squeezed it, you blinked through tears and opened your mouth. You didn’t know what to say until the monitor started to rapidly beep, fear shot through your body causing your tears to flow faster and your body to shake. You broke your gaze from the monitor and looked at Tendou, his skin was pale and you could barely see his face through all the tubes

“I would have never thought...I would have to say goodbye to my paradise so soon. I love you Satori, I’m sorry I was too late”

↳𝐞𝐧𝐝

post a/n: currently sitting here crying, i’m not even attached to Tendou like that and i’m HURT why do i do these things to myself i’m sorry to whovever reads this </3

#haikyu x reader #tendou satori #haikyu angst #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #hq tendou #tendou angst #tendou x reader #tendou x y/n #tendou imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu tendou #tendou

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nirvanaday · 3 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff let a lot of things slide in the past months. Well actually since the snap 2 years ago. The only thing she “cooked “for herself were sandwiches or instant noodles that she never finished. She can’t remember the last time she did her laundry, nor when she last cleaned her room. But she couldn’t care less. There was no one living on the compound but her, Steve had moved to the city half a year ago and with him the last bits of her self-reverence seemed to have left too. Whenever she wanted to get something done other than staring at the statistics of the snap, sitting in on yet another useless meeting with Captain Marvel, Rhodey and Rocket because deep down she knew that no one would find Clint if he didn’t wanna be found or punching the punching bag so hard until her knuckles were bleeding through the bandages, she asked herself “Why?” or “What for?”.

The way she neglected the tasks at hand just reflected the way she was letting herself go. Normal things just felt like too much- like she didn’t deserve it. Sometimes she didn’t eat anything for a whole day, always thinking of the people who could never eat anything ever again, partly because of her failure. That’s why her bones were showing more and more, you could practically count her ribs if she wore a tight shirt, and every pair of pants she owned hung loosely down her thin frame. She wasn’t more than a shadow of herself, but she couldn’t care less, not when the guilt was consuming her, haunting her every night in her dreams and she felt the need to bring this as a punishment upon herself. So, while she didn’t consciously starve herself, something inside her just kept her from eating or keeping a lot of food down.

So, when she stood in front of her closet that one morning, she wasn’t surprised when she was met with emptiness. Most of the few clothes she owned were laying around on the floor somewhere and needed to be washed. She picked up a black top from underneath her bed, but noticed it was a crop top when she had put it on. You could see how her belly was rather going inwards and how drastically her ribcage was standing out. She didn’t care how she looked, but she didn’t want to explain herself should there be another meeting with and Rhodey and the others. She took the short black top off, put on a pair of leggings that didn’t seem to have any stains on them and walked through the hallway into Steve’s former bedroom.

It looked like he never left, he didn’t take a lot of things with him, like he was trying to leave it behind along with everything that reminded him that he also had failed to save the world from the snap. He came around from time to time, he cooked her dinner and (at least pretended to) listen to her when she was telling him about a new lead on Clint. But he never stayed overnight though. Natasha was glad, because then he didn’t notice when she threw up the food he made her as soon as she could see him leaving out the front door. On the other hand, even though she wouldn’t even admit that to herself, she felt like breaking down in front of him and begging him to stay every time he was about to leave. Whenever he was about to leave her behind, again. But she never did and he never stayed, because she was too damn good at keeping her composure and a part of her hated him for not noticing.

Natasha always had loved Steve’s room because it was so uniquely him, old books in a shelf, his sketchpads and pencils laying on the coffee table, the record player next to his bed. Now she was in it she wanted nothing more than to run out, because it reminded her that not even Steve Rogers could endure being around her anymore. She went straight to where she was headed, took a grey shirt from the stack of neatly folded T-shirts in his closet and put it on. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she was content. Steve’s Shirt hung loosely of her shoulders and hid all the critical parts of her body.

After she went for her morning run around the compound, she ate two bites of a peanut butter sandwich before going to the training room and stretching for her now daily ballet routine. She didn’t start doing it again because she particularly liked it, but because it hurts. So good. A part of her hated herself for how fucking happy she was after she first danced tiptoe after ten years or so and she felt her toes breaking. She felt happy when seeing her bleeding and bruised feet after taking off her pointe shoes. Natasha Romanoff felt like she deserved pain more than anyone. Why was she left alive and so many others had to die?

She finished her training at about 1 PM and went back to her office space, the former meeting area of the Avengers. There were no new mails, no message from anybody so she just stared at the screen and basically waited for anything to pop up. She was so focused on the nothingness, that she didn’t notice when Steve’s car pulled up in the parking lot. She flinched when she heard him clearing his throat, startling her out of her deep focus on the screen in front of her. She didn’t notice his presence before.

“Hey.” Steve simply said, putting his jacket down on the chair in front of him and throwing his keys on the desk. She wondered why he still kept them. Natasha looked up at him and managed a small smile: “Hey soldier, what’s up.” It came out raspier and more broken than she anticipated and that was probably due to the fact that she hadn’t spoke to anybody in the last week. Steve lifted his brow: “You okay?” he asked out of concern but Natasha just huffed. “Now what do you expect me to say to that?” She looked away from him, out of the window to hide the tears that were filling her eyes, ready to spill. But she couldn’t let him see that, she didn’t want to force him to care for her because he felt responsible for her, even though that’s probably why he still came by.

“I’m sorry for asking, I know it’s stupid.” he said and she wondered when their relationship had become this difficult and tense. They had been so close before, when they were on the run and she sometimes thought that they could maybe be more than friends, but now she could feel that he was afraid of saying something wrong to her and she was afraid of revealing too much to him. “I came by because… I want to move back in if that’s okay with you. I don’t want you to have to look for Clint on your own, you shouldn’t have to manage this alone.” He looked at her and she knew it was an excuse.

“There’s not much to do actually, I get by on my own pretty well.” Natasha told him, but the single tear that rolled down her cheek gave her away. Steve got up, walked over to her side of the table and him being so close to her broke down the last remains of her wall. She pressed her head against his chest and finally allowed herself to cry. When he put his arms around her, he was shocked. “Jesus, Nat you’ve gotten so thin. Are you eating?” he asked but she couldn’t answer, instead she only held onto him tighter. They stood there and time seemed to stop. Natasha only half registered when he picked her up and they moved to the living room, where he sat down on the couch, with her curled up in his lap like a ball, afraid of the inevitable conversation they would be having now.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed, but the sun was setting outside when Natasha slightly lifted her head to look at Steve. He also had stains of dried tears on his cheeks. He now cupped her face with his hands. “Please Nat, let me help you.” He sounded desperate. Natasha knew they were too far gone now but she also knew that words could never express what was going on. She could never say it out loud. So she stayed silent and lifted her hand for him to see instead. He took her bony fingers in his and pressed a soft kiss on her bruised knuckles. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, please.” He was basically begging her.

Natasha took all the courage she had left and whispered: ”Stay with me. Please don’t leave me again.” She thought she was expecting too much, despite him saying he wanted to move back in before, she needed him to be with her, to bear her panic attacks, her nightmares and to watch her eating and training habits. That was too much to ask. “I won’t, we’ll get through this Nat, I just need you to let me in. I’ll be with you no matter what.” He said and caressed her puffy cheeks. And she believed him. Not because she knew he was always honest but because how he had said it and just because he… She trusted him so much, it hurt.

But he kept his word, he stayed the night holding her close to him in her bed and it was the first night in forever that she wasn’t woken up by nightmares. He stayed the next morning, making her breakfast and she felt how genuinely happy he was when she ate two pancakes. He stayed with her throughout the day, distracting her from her dark thoughts, training with her on a normal level, taking a walk down to the river with her. He stayed with her the next night and the nights to come and neither one of them had slept alone since that day.

Steve Rogers gave Natasha Romanoff hope and the perspective that maybe, she could move on without forgetting and punishing herself. But equally, Natasha Romanoff gave Steve Rogers a purpose and the feeling that he wasn’t alone. It was a rough path, but the got through it, together and somewhere along the way, they were able to profess their feelings to one another. In a broken world, they had found light in each other.

He was her Salvation as she was his.

#romanogers fanfic #romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #steve x natasha #capwidow #captasha #marvel #captain america

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ampleappleamble · 3 years

Text

—

As soon as their party had crossed the threshold of the city proper, they'd turned to a local rabblerouser for directions, inquiring about points of interest and general information about the city. He'd filled them in while still trying to hold court with the group of refugees and protesters crowded around him, adding in fiery criticisms of animancy and the local constabulary, and as soon as the opportunity to escape had presented itself the little band of adventurers had beelined for the nearest tavern, a busy little neighborhood eatery and inn called the Goose and Fox.

Bit strange, that name. Sounds kind of predatory for a house of respite. Sagani glanced down at her own fox, and then chuckled to herself, shaking her head. ...Alright, maybe I'm looking a little too hard into this.

She noticed Axa looking at her quizzically, so she leaned over and murmured: "Here, stop me if you've heard this one: An orlan, a dwarf, a folk, an elf, an aumaua, and an arctic fox walk into a bar..."

"The bartender looks at them and says, 'What is this, a joke?'" Axa quipped back, not missing a beat. It was a punchline from a different bit, catching Sagani off guard, and both women laughed loudly enough to draw attention. In particular, that of a sour-faced elf with a rag draped over his shoulder who frowned and pointed at Itumaak, shaking his finger as he scurried out from behind the bar.

"Hey, hey, c'mon now, ladies, no loose animals in the dining area– Is that a dog, or...? Either way, tie it up outside, please. This isn't the Salty Mast." He spat the last few words from his mouth like a foul-tasting venom and turned to resume his duties, only to find himself nose-to-chest with Edér.

"He's an arctic fox, actually," the large man drawled softly, his tone hovering between casual and threatening. "And he goes where we go. ...'Sides, he's clean, and he don't make no trouble. Not 'less there's trouble with us. Which there ain't. Right?" He smiled amicably, looming over the sweaty little man as Axa stepped forward to intercede and the rest of her crew discreetly slid into a corner table.

The two of them returned shortly, followed by a husky orlan barmaid loaded down with stew and brew for the party of five, plus a little something for Itumaak. They talked while they ate: planning, mostly, about what to do with the rest of the evening and the days to come. The Hall of Revealed Mysteries, temple to Wael and the largest library in the Dyrwood, was a high-priority destination, as was the Ducal Palace in First Fires, for the war records Edér was after. And, of course, eventually they'd have to head for the western gates to escort Sagani to the cliffs where she might meet Persoq.

Even though your initial offer wasn't an escort to the cliffs. Only to the city. Sagani smirked as she considered the implications and nursed her tankard. You that eager to prove you're really a Watcher? Or are you just hoping to keep me on as a hireling you don't have to pay? She watched them eat and talk and drink and laugh, and when the orlan caught her staring, she smiled and offered the huntress a toke from her pipe.

...Frost's sake, Sagani, she thought as she politely waved the proffered whiteleaf away, maybe she's just nice.

She was pleasantly buzzed and half-listening to Aloth and Kana argue about whether to visit the asylum in Brackenbury when she noticed that Axa's attention had drifted as well– to the folk woman at the table nearest the back wall, the one who kept her face out of the lamplight and stared grimly into her ale.

Sagani nudged Axa, indicated the woman with a nod of her head. "You know her?"

"No." The redhead rose from her seat, wiping her mouth and knitting her brow. "But I know that look." She spared a glance at the lads– Edér, his eyes shut, blissfully gnawing on a hunk of beef; Kana and Aloth still wrapped up in the discourse on animancers in the Dyrwood– before striding purposefully towards the solitary woman, Sagani close behind.

It took some coaxing, but they got her talking. She told them her name was Kaenra, and that her fiancé had recently struck up a close friendship with svef, had started bringing strange, unsavory people around to the house to use. That he'd become distant, and then violent, and that all she wanted from him now was for him to take his grandmother's ring back and fuck off out of her life. Sagani watched as Axa listened, watched as she bristled with righteous rage, her eyes lingering on the woman's fresh bruise as she squeezed the ring tightly in her fist.

"I'll make sure he gets it," she vowed.

And so it came to pass that Sagani found herself spending her first evening as a tourist in Defiance Bay firing off arrows in a stranger's kitchen and siccing Itumaak on the drug-addled thugs in the study. Judging from the reactions of the rest of her retinue, apparently this sort of thing wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for Axa: the girl had a thirst for justice, it seemed, and she damn well meant to slake it.

Before long, they were all standing above the cowering, bloodied homeowner, a man called Purnisc who struggled to explain himself to Axa's satisfaction. Turns out he had been dealing svef, too, and when his supplier had found out that he'd been pocketing more than his fair share of the profits–

"–they sent the kneebreakers downstairs," Sagani finished for him, "and the wizard to replace you. Literally." She shook her head in wonder. It really was just like one of her Vailian crime novels.

"Replacement wasn't much of an improvement on the original." The little redhead was steaming mad, and she made no move to hide it as she leaned over the battered man, finger in his face. "You silly bastard, you really thought you could steal from a professional criminal, and lie to your woman about it, and you're just so gods damned clever that no one could ever possibly be the wiser?"

The man's blacked, swollen eyes went as wide as they were able. "You... you've talked to my Kaenra? Is she alright? Sh-she doesn't know I was selling, does she? Oh, gods, please don't tell her. I'm so sorry for putting her through all this. Please don't–"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Axa's roar came shrill and piercing, her typical rich, smooth voice consumed in the fire of her outrage. "Kaenra sent us here to return your ring because of your lies, you crooked little shit-for-brains! She loves and respects you! And you'd have us lie to her again?"

The pathetic man had withered under the orlan's verbal assault, and Axa seemed to have made her mind up about him as the group marched solemnly back to the Goose and Fox. But after returning to Kaenra, after telling her what Purnisc had done, the little woman once again defied all reasonable expectations.

"He's just an idiot, not a monster," Axa assured the other woman, "and he still loves you. And although he did a damned foolish thing, he never meant to hurt you. You just need to decide for yourself whether he's worth a second chance." Her violet eyes shone with tears as she spoke, Purnisc's ring on the table next to the women's clasped hands.

And when Kaenra said she’d think about it, that was the first time Sagani had really started to believe in the Watcher of Caed Nua.

—

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #okay maybe only one more big bit like this #...i'm overthinking this bit and wondering if i still like it #or if i should basically redo it #but! i always post first drafts here very soon after finishing them #so! this'll probably just get edited a lil bit in the end

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stclla · 3 years

Text

hello loves! my name is bri and i’m so excited to get the chance to write with all of your beautiful muses ♡ i just turned 24 (ew), my pronouns are she/her, and my timezone is est (luckily i live about an hour outside of nyc, and plan to move there permanently in 2021 yay !!!)

tbh it’s been at least a year since my last rp group and i’m a little rusty, so pls feel free to share your tips and lmk how i’m doing :) my writing style is pretty flexible and i match length, pov, etc. and now !! a little bit of info about my beautiful chaotic bby stella:

ABOUT.

estelle “stella” celestine evans was spotted in the fashion district adorning gucci ankle boots , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to heat waves by glass animals . you may know them as @stella or as that sydney sweeney lookalike . their twenty-second birthday just passed . while living in the upper east side , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be reckless but on the other hand warmhearted . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines .

BASIC INFO.

Full Name: Estelle Celestine Evans

Nickname(s): Stella

Age: 22

Date of Birth: August 4, 1998

Sun Sign: Leo

Moon Sign: Cancer

Rising Sign: Scorpio

Hometown: Beverly Hills, CA

Current Location: Upper East Side, NY

Gender: Cis female

Pronouns: She/her

Orientation: Pansexual

Political Affiliation: Liberal

Occupation: Supermodel, socialite, influencer

Career Highlights: Victoria’s Secret Angel, high fashion runways, print & editorial work, music video appearances, photography, art direction

Goals/Passions: Photography, art direction, fashion design, makeup, social media

Career Claim: Gigi Hadid

BIOGRAPHY.

When your mom’s a legendary supermodel and your dad is a smooth talking Hollywood talent agent, it’s safe to say that you were probably born with a silver spoon in your mouth. But don’t you dare say that shit to Stella Evans. Although she definitely enjoyed the finer things in life growing up and was practically gifted a spot in wealthy elite by her parents, Stella likes to believe that she did it all herself. And underneath it all - the glitz and the glam and the money and the flashing lights - maybe she actually did.

While this blonde haired, blue eyed beauty might be the spitting image of her mother with a few (okay, a lot) more extra curves, Stella tries to distance herself from her family heritage as much as possible. It started in kindergarten when she renamed herself. After all, being named after the notorious Estelle Evans doesn’t make you a lot of friends when you’re five. It makes you the subject of ridicule from your peers, and makes your teachers treat you as if you were the one posing topless in Italian Vogue. And when your mother made you model for a big Baby Guess modeling campaign at the age of 2, kids tended to talk. So she became Stella. Just Stella.

From then on, she did everything she could to separate herself from her parents. If her parents said to stay in, she went out. If they told her to get good grades, she failed her classes in retaliation. Their attention was all consuming, especially her mother’s. After the once popular cover girl had retired, she turned all of her attention to her daughter. Stella’s modeling work had been paused at the suggestion of her talent agent father, Arthur Evans. He wanted her to focus on school and get an education so she could take over the talent agency one day. But when Estelle and Arthur divorced when Stella was 10 years old, all bets were off.

Her mother hopped from loveless marriage to loveless marriage, dragging Stella along for the ride. Her father moved to the Upper East Side, vowing to see her at Christmas each year, while Stella jetted around the world against her will. 6th and 7th grade in Sweden, 8th grade in London, 9th and 10th grade in Paris. It was a long and lonely adolescence, but Stella filled it with booze, bars, and boys and girls to keep her company. Partying was her only escape. And she was damn good at escaping.

She had her first real relationship when she was 16. He was an older French financier who was content to spoil her rotten and show her a good time. Perhaps too good a time. Stella was introduced to the things that would become her vices - namely, drugs and alcohol. Her mother proved to be overbearing but oblivious. She would do things like criticize her daughter’s makeup, clothing, and body, but be completely unaware that Stella was doing things like snorting coke to get thinner. She’d call her trashy for going out to clubs, then look the other way when Stella would wear a short mini skirt when leaving for “study sessions” at the library. With Stella’s clever wit and electric charisma, it really was too easy. The drugs combined with the alcohol made her feel better because she didn’t really feel anything at all. Plus, if her parents hated partying, then Stella would learn to love it.

Shit hit the fan when Stella was arrested in France. Something about being an accomplice to international drug smuggling and being under the influence of a controlled substance - whatever. 16 year old Stella got off with a slap on the wrist due to her connections, promising to move back to New York with her dad until she was 18 and legal. The Upper East Side was her new home, and weirdly enough, she actually kind of liked it. It was easier to start over in New York, where no one cared about her washed up mother. But they did care about money, wealth, and excess, which Stella was more than an expert in, whether she liked it or not. This made her presence in the New York social scene almost magnetic. People would flock to her, drawn in by her ethereal beauty, effortless charm, and “fuck it all” party girl attitude.

Attention was a dangerous drug for a girl like Stella, who had spent her whole life freeing herself from her mother’s tarnished legacy. And when she had finally done it, had finally succeeded in making people call her “Stella Evans” instead of “Baby Estelle”, it made her wild with reckless abandon. All her new friends and lovers wanted to buy her shots and make her feel good any way she wanted, and it was only polite for Stella to let them do it.

The next few years were filled with exclusive clubs, raucous spring breaks, glamorous yacht parties, champagne kisses with boys and girls, social media notoriety, and juicy headlines that cemented her status as an it-girl. Her modeling career resumed with a promise to her father that she would go to college at the same time. Armed with a golden reputation, endless connections, and natural charisma and talent, Stella began to walk all the major runways and was in talks to appear in Sports Illustrated and Victoria’s Secret. Unlike her mother, she proved that she had both high fashion attitude and sex appeal. Stella was unstoppable.

Until she wasn’t. After a night of drinking and an ill-timed bet that she could parallel park her date’s Range Rover (despite the fact that Stella didn’t have a license to speak of), the police charged her with a DUI. This time, she didn’t get off so easy. Her father pulled as many strings as possible to keep her image clean in the press, but word got out anyway. Fucking instagram.

Faced with the threat of losing her big modeling campaigns, Stella agreed to clean up her image. Think rehab, charity work, inspirational interviews. The whole shebang. And it worked - kind of. It’s hard to navigate a world filled with temptation, but Stella doesn’t know how to survive without the glitz and glamour of the wealthy world. She dropped out of college against her dad’s wishes, officially surrendering herself to the New York social scene. Rich girls have more fun, anyway. But sometimes she hates it and wants to be “normal”. Even so, she knows that she never will be and embraces the beautiful chaos that her life of excess brings to her.

As far as rich kids go, Stella is almost down-to-earth. Kind of. She likes to think that she is, but she’s also the kind of girl who would never be caught dead on the subway. Or a taxi. Black cars and private jets only, please. Underneath it all, Stella wants (and frankly, needs) real connections in her life. People who genuinely care about her and have her best interests at heart are extremely rare, so when Stella lets someone get close to her, they’re with her for life. Her reckless, carefree attitude can definitely get her into trouble, so she can be a handful.

But one of her shining traits is that she doesn’t judge, at least not as openly and viciously as her peers. Stella’s life of wealth and status is definitely ingrained in her, but she is also openminded and accepting. Her friends don’t need to be old money. They just need to be real. You can catch her being the talk of the town in her native Upper East Side, but also vibing with the up and comers in Tribeca. Below the layers of superficiality and obsession with the finer things in life, this supermodel has a heart of gold. But don’t fuck with her. Stella is dangerous and defiant when she wants to be, and nothing can get in the way of her getting what she wants. Even if what she wants could destroy her one day.

*** her bio is still a wip and i’m working on some inspo for wanted connections, but definitely lmk if you have any questions or think stella would be a good fit for connections with your muses !

#wealthyhq:intro #i'm sorry if this is a MESS omg #so happy to meet all of you !!!

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oohfluffy · 4 years

Text

TIHM Ch.15 | BBH

Group: EXO

Member: Byun Baekhyun

Theme: Angst | Fluff | Rated M | University!AU | Football!AU

Word Count: 3,065

chapter 15

"Is this Lee Saejin?"

You just got home from school, and the phone rang as soon as you got in.

"Ah, yes. Who's this?"

"This is the Family Care Hospital."

You quickly ran out of the house as soon as the caller told you about what happened.

Your grandmother was hit by a truck, and she's now in a critical condition.

"Grandma..." Your tears streamed down your cheeks as you hastily got inside of the hospital. You frantically asked the nurses on the counter, lips quivering in fear and anxiousness. "W-Where's she?"

"Ms. Lee?" A nurse called you and gently led you to the waiting area. You looked around with your eyes wide, breathing fast as your hands clasped together. "Calm down, Saejin-ssi. Your grandmother is inside the operation room. They're trying their best to..."

Everything was fading rapidly.

You couldn't hear what the woman was saying. You were in this black hole, and all you wanted to do was cry and scream in fear.

You couldn't lose her.

Not her.

"P-Please." Your voice broke as you sobbed on your seat. Your shoulders shook while your tears continuously flowed down your face. "I-I can't lose my grandma."

But it seemed like you weren't really favored by luck.

"I heard she lost her grandmother."

"Suits her right for being a slut."

"Maybe karma is working!"

"She shouldn't have done that, what a shame."

You were still in that black hole. Still in that corner. Still crying. Still being consumed by sadness.

Still alone.

You started to learn how to hurt yourself to refrain from being numb.

You pinch your skin too hard. You punch the wall too hard. You scratch your wound too hard. You tug on your hair too hard. You hit your head too hard.

You needed to feel.

And those kids in the university were making it easier to do so.

Your body straightened as the coldness hit the top of your head. Laughters and snickers were heard as soon as you locked the door of the cubicle you were in.

"Oh damn! That must be so cold!"

"Shush! Let her enjoy it silently."

"I'm surprised she didn't scream."

"Let's go!"

Your lips quivered as you slumped down on the toilet. With water droplets trickling down your hair, your clothes dampened. You shivered as you felt your skin getting too cold.

Despite the bad intention, you were grateful for those bitches.

Your hand gripped on the cutter in your pocket. You let out a pained sigh as you shook your head.

You would have used a more painful way to feel.

"Saejin-ah."

You slowly closed your locker door. With blank eyes, you turned your head to the person who called you. You didn't bother gasp as you felt your lips dry.

Park Yong Sun.

"I-I'm sorry, Saejin-ah." She cried as she looked down, her dark hair falling on her face. You just stared at her vulnerable state. Everyone around you seems to be interested and curious about what's happening in your life. "I-It's my fault."

Your eyes watered as you looked at the person who you trusted your everything with. Your best friend that grew up with you, stayed with you, and cared for you.

What made her do this?

Was it the cuts on your wrists? The bruises on your temple? Maybe the red marks on your neck? Or was it your busted lip? Which one made her feel guilty?

"I-I'm so sorry—"

You walked past her, limping as you went out of the hallway. You didn't want to hear the rest. You didn't want to listen to her lies, or her justifications why she did that. You didn't want to see her again.

She didn't deserve it.

"She's here!"

"Is it true that she's the reason?"

"How can she appear here as if she didn't do anything?!"

You were wrecked when you heard the news. You weren't supposed to care or to be involved.

"Park Yong Sun is dead. She killed herself."

And you cannot comprehend how it is your fault again.

—

"Say ahh." Baekhyun said as he carefully nudged a spoonful of ice cream on your lips. You complied quickly and ate it, trying to avoid a much more embarrassing scenario in public. "Good girl."

"Shut up."

Wondering what you are doing with that puppy?

It's just your first date with him—let's change that.

It's your first acquaintance gathering with him.

"Let's go play!" He excitedly said as he threw the empty cup away, dragging you again around the mall. Girls were ogling at him as he walked past. You couldn't help but to roll your eyes. He was just wearing a plain oversized white shirt that slightly shows off his broad chest, and a pair of glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

He looks like a good boy, and everyone digs it as usual.

You were supposed to be taking a day off alone, but then Baekhyun knew, and he just couldn't leave you to spend the day alone. He's been stuck on you for the past few days, and it was annoying but comforting at the same time.

After a few minutes of walking, you got inside a game station. There were a lot of kids and teens playing, and it was almost crowded. You felt uneasy as Baekhyun easily got through it.

You both walked until you were in front of a huge screen with two guns in front.

"I'm not good at these things, Baekhyun." You whined as he gave you a huge weapon that supposedly kills zombies on the screen. He just grinned and patted your cheek before getting his. "We're just going to die, I'm telling you."

"We're not, baby. I'm here." He winked as he clicked the start button. Your heart thumped loudly as the game began. "Just follow my lead, okay? If you didn't know, I'm a damn good player."

"Oh I know that, Byun. You are a player."

Baekhyun grunted as he knew you were talking about a different thing.

You almost squealed when a zombie suddenly appeared in front of you, making you instinctively pull the trigger of your gun. And another one on the side, and on top, and on the farthest left!

Baekhyun watched as you single-handedly killed the zombies attacking you. He smirked as he looked at the screen, keeping up his game so he won't lose to you.

"I think I should be threatened, baby. You're a good player too." He laughed as he quickly pulled the trigger, killing as many zombies as he could. You grunted as you breathed in and out loudly, hands gripping on the weapon tightly.

After an hour of playing around the game station, you sat down on a bench with a tired smile on your face. Baekhyun went to find a vending machine to buy water, so you waited for him outside the game station.

You were looking around the place, taking in the sight of the stores and stalls, when a group of girls were approaching while giggling.

"I saw him here earlier!" The one in front said as she led her friends to the game station.

"Was he alone? I bet he wasn't!" The other girl exclaimed incredulously behind her.

"I don't think so. But hey, we can separate them for a while, don't you think? And we can play with him instead."

They all giggled together like fucking bees, pushing each other to the place until they all stopped. It was quiet as you leaned your back on the glass, becoming a bit impatient already.

"Babe. Sorry, did you wait long?" The familiar gentle voice that Baekhyun has been using on you said, making you look up at him. He was kind of sweating as he held out a cold bottle of water. "The vending machine inside was broken, so I needed to get to the working one outside."

You smiled gratefully as you took the bottle and quickly took a sip on it. You glanced at the girls, who were surprisingly still at the entrance, and looked back at the boy in front of you. Baekhyun has his eyes only set on you.

"Sit down." You patted the space on your left, and he easily complied like a dog. You took another gulp of water before giving it to Baekhyun, who took it with hesitation. "Aren't you thirsty? You're even sweating." You pulled out your handkerchief from your pocket.

"Ah, it's okay—" Without a word, you patted his face with your hanky. His eyes were wide as you willingly wiped his sweat. His lips parted when you wiped even his neck. He glanced around a bit, and saw that there was an audience behind him. He smirked at you.

"It's not good to just dry off your sweat—" You said seriously as you glared sideways at the girls watching.

You were fully composed until Baekhyun decided to join your little roleplaying.

"Anything for my baby." He said loudly as he leaned on your touch, lightly kissing your wrist as he did. Your cheeks were instantly in flames as you watched him. "I just love getting tended by you like this."

You bit your lip as your hand stopped on Baekhyun's cheek.

Your eyes went to his own, feeling drawn to his gaze. His hand held yours that was on his cheek, he smiled as he gave it a peck, letting his lips linger on your skin.

"Thank you." He mumbled as he sighed in relief. He slowly intertwined his fingers with yours, letting your hands rest on his lap. He drank from the opened bottle of water that you gave him earlier, drinking from the same spot you drank. You gulped down the lump forming in your throat before looking away.

"L-Let's go?" You asked as you glanced back at the murmuring girls behind him. Baekhyun nodded and stood up hand-in-hand with you. You led him out of those girls' gazes, taking lead in dragging him around this time.

You let out a breath of relief when you were finally out of the people's curious gazes. You stepped onto the escalator with Baekhyun behind you, and still had your fingers intertwined with him. You were deep into your thoughts when you felt warmth on your neck.

"Where are we going next, Saejin-ah?" Baekhyun whispered, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned on your shoulder. You almost shivered at his low voice.

Am I out of my mind already? This guy is a freaking playboy! He knows how to play!

"We are eating. I'm hungry." You mumbled as you got off the escalator, dragging him to follow you. You saw your favorite fast food chain, and grinned. You pointed at it. "There. We'll eat there."

Baekhyun watched as your eyes twinkled while you waited in line. He can sense your excitement and happiness at the moment, and he's loving every second of it. He was just behind you when a guy kept on bumping on your shoulder. You glanced at the man and furrowed your brows.

You chose to ignore it until the man almost fell over you. Baekhyun was quick to think and tugged you closer to him before the man fell. The people around were shrieking and asking for help. That man, with no question, is drunk.

"You alright?" Baekhyun asked as he hugged you from behind, feeling your body turn rigid as you looked at the man before you. "Were you hurt?"

The man was already being carried by the staff, and finally got out of the line. Baekhyun squeezed your arms as he didn't hear you responding. He decided to be the one who orders for the both of you.

With you in his arms.

Yes, you saw that right.

Unbeknownst to Baekhyun, you couldn't think and speak clearly because of him. Because he was too close to you. Because he is currently hugging you from behind as if he was a koala bear!

Is he crazy? Well, I guess I am too because I'm letting him do this!

"Yeah, that will be all." You heard Baekhyun say to the cashier, arms falling from you for a second to grab his wallet. You instantly walked to the side, surprising him and the cashier. You didn't dare look around because for sure, everyone was watching the scene unfold before them.

"Come on. Let's grab out seats." Baekhyun mumbled as he grabbed your hand and walked around the place to find empty seats. Fortunately, there was a two-seated table near the counter.

You couldn't look at him straight. You just looked at your hands on your lap. The hands that finally got used to holding hands with someone else because of him. Your cheeks blushed as you recalled the times you held hands with him.

Oh no, Saejin. No.

"Saejin-ah? Baby?"

Your head snapped up at Baekhyun, eyes wide as if you were a deer caught in headlights. Baekhyun raised his eyebrows in worry.

"You okay?" He asked, lips pouting as he looked all over your face. "You didn't get hurt earlier, did you?"

My heart is wavering, Byun. I'm not liking it.

"No, I'm fine." You said as you weakly smiled at him. He frowned as if sensing you weren't. "Really. I'm just kind of tired."

His body was warm.

He suddenly smiled.

"Were you getting possessive earlier, baby?" Baekhyun leaned on his hand on the table, his eyes crinkling in delight. "I saw those girls you glared at. Were they looking for me?"

Your eyes widened as your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Was that being possessive?! I just disliked the fact that he's getting attention everywhere!

"Tss. No way." You spat as you looked away, sighing in relief when the waiter arrived.

Baekhyun just wouldn't drop it though.

"I'm certain you were claiming me at that moment, Lee Saejin. " Baekhyun grinned as he watched you quickly shoving fries in your mouth. "I saw it in your eyes, and they don't lie."

"Think whatever you like. I was just being kind, that's all."

He took a sip on his coke, eyes never leaving your face. You were angrily chomping on your burger, making him chuckle while he watched you.

"I wish you'll always be kind then." He mumbled, making you look up at him. "I won't look anywhere else anymore if you're just right here."

You probably look like a hamster now, with all the food stuck in your cheeks. Realizing this, you quickly chewed on it and gulped them down. You drank your soda, hoping to clear both your throat and mind as you did.

"I'm serious, baby."

You stopped moving as you heard his deep voice, one that he hasn't used often when he casually talks to you. You looked at him again with wary eyes. His gaze was gentle, but at the same time, hard.

He's serious. Damn serious.

"Let me court you."

Your mouth gaped at his words.

Byun Baekhyun courting me?! Is this a scam?

"Y-You? Courting? Me?" You stuttered as you pointed at yourself. Baekhyun nodded. You chuckled humorlessly. "You should think about it—"

"I have." He said sternly as he stared into your eyes intensely. Your lips parted. "I've been thinking about it everyday since I met you. And I've only got one conclusion, Saejin."

You shook your head at him, losing your appetite.

"You don't know me, Baekhyun. You might fancy me now, but I'm sure you'd be out of my sight in a few days." You said bravely with a straight face. The happy and soft atmosphere before was ruined in one moment. "You're used to change, Baekhyun. I'm not sure if I can take that in. I'm not sure if I'll be strong enough to be broken again. I'm not sure if I can bear with it."

Baekhyun's eyebrows furrowed as he watched your eyes welling up. He didn't want to see those tears flowing on your cheeks. He didn't want to make you cry.

"Hey, hey." He quickly stood up and dragged his chair beside you. You sniffled as you looked away. "Baby. Hey. Don't cry. Okay, I'm not gonna push this courting shit on you. I'll wait, okay?"

What if he knew about what happened before? Wouldn't he be like everyone else? Would he disappear too? He's popular, and to stay popular, he needs to. He would be ruined because of me. I don't want to start something that I know will just bring pain to both of us.

You silently cried as he hugged you, pressing your head on his broad chest. You felt comforted by his warmth and his scent. His hands caressed your back as he quietly spoke to you.

"I just wanted to prove to you that I'm willing to court you and make you my only one."

You unexpectedly snorted at his cheesy words, making him pout. You chuckled as you saw him looking down at you.

"Sorry, that was too cheesy I couldn't handle it." You whispered on his chest, a smile tugging on your lips. "I understand, Baekhyun. I hope you can understand me too, until I'm ready to open up to you."

He smiled at your reply, pushing away the fact that you just snorted at his wonderful line.

"Okay, deal. No courting." He mumbled as he kissed your temple. You groaned at his sly advances. "Flirting then?"

"Oh shut it."

"You like me too, right?"

"I didn't say anything about that—"

"You do, Saejin-ah. You're just fighting it."

Your lips jutted out as you realize he was right—

AM I? AM I LIKING THIS PLAYBOY?! NO WAY, LEE SAEJIN.

"I like you, Lee Saejin." He whispered as he hugged you tighter. "Being this close to you makes me so happy." He nuzzled his nose on your hair like a puppy wanting attention.

"And you smell damn amazing—"

You quickly pushed him away and sat up straight. You ate your burger again as if nothing happened. You wiped your eyes with your sleeves, and chewed on your food. Baekhyun was still beside you, frowning at your response.

"Eat, Baekhyun." You sternly said as you nodded at his food. He sighed as he grabbed his food, but stayed beside you as he ate. Your lips tugged into a smile as you drank your soda.

You're scared, but maybe, just maybe...

—

Tagging my loves: ❤

—

♫ Ch.16

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Note

Story on Norman catching Sammy in Joey cult ?

It's been twice now that I've written Norman's demise. Y'all really like killing people uh?

Summary: Sammy was weird in many ways, but this? This was just crazy.

---

Back when Norman was still a little tot, his great nanna used to tell him and his brothers and sisters about their great poppop. How he'd been raised in some sort of cult that indoctrinated its disciples from birth. She related to them how, even though he'd managed to escape them, their constant drilling of ideals had never truly left him. Which was why nanna had gotten rid of him. Love him as she did, she knew he was a crazy dangerous man. Little five year old Norman had been very curious about those tales his mama begged nanna not to tell them. He especially found it curious when she described his eyes. Having a condition like the one he had, had made him a prime target for neighbourhood bullies that called him "Crazy-Eye". So hearing about someone who had actual insanity behind what most considered to be the windows to the soul... It had given him a sort of relief, because at least there was a spark of life behind his own unsynchronized peepers. "N'aw child, don't yous go be tellin' ya mama 'bout what ol' nanna be tellin' you 'bout ya poppop, ya hear?" "Ok nanna. Won't tell a soul." "Yous is a clever one, boy. An' don't forget ta keep an eye out... Crazy can hide in plain sight. Sure did for poppop." Insanity could hide in plain sight. That was perhaps the most valuable lesson to take from his nanna's tales. What she could never get across was how hard it was to see someone you cared for slowly be afflicted with it.

Sammy was a weird man. Had been from day one of Norman meeting him, and never quite changed even when he put a reign on his deplorable attitude. He wasn't a bad person per say. Misguided by a parent with that typical southern brand of white superiority complex. A man who thought his skin color made him better than all the other folk, and who taught his boy to think it was just as sacred an idea as the damn gospel he also tried to drill into Sammy's head. But Sammy was admittedly clever, and much more curious than his father had been. He asked questions and he tried to change when he realized his own crappy behaviour didn't please him all that much. But then things started getting unsettling in the studio. Little things popped up, and the world's own agenda got in the way of Joey Drew's plans. Turns out Joey wasn't about to fold for anything or anyone. Those who were drafted were the lucky ones. Those who were socially outcasts or liabilities in the military's eyes, were not so lucky. They stayed, so the wrongness affected them. The wrongness... Norman had felt something was not right for a long while, but now that he had to get acquainted with so many new hires and the such? He'd been preoccupied. So when the ones he knew suddenly started acting unlike themselves he'd been caught by surprise. "I don't understand how Mr. Drew has no trouble with him... He's just so..." He'd found Buddy in the bathroom, trying to clean the obvious ink stains on his clothing. "Why did I think helping him would make him less nasty?" "Sammy tends ta blow up at minor things. If it was as bad as yous say it was, then he was just freaked out from nearly drowning." He got as many paper towels as he could to help the poor kid get rid of as much of the ink as he could. "Doesn't excuse what he says to me... Or the other Jewish employees..." Buddy murmured sadly. "What did he say?" "Not important... Just makes me uneasy. It's like I'm specifically not worth anything just because of my... Mr. Polk?" Buddy blinked once the projectionist dropped everything he was doing to stalk out the door. "Yous ain't the first he's gone and played that card on. Was a long while ago but I can refresh Sammy's memory for the folks he's been barkin' at." "Oh! Uh, you don't have to! It's not going to fix anything." "Trust me, a hard knock on the noggin' works just fine ta sorte Sammy's bullshit." Norman smiled in passing at Dot who paused to watch him and then look at Buddy in concern once he peered out the bathroom door. "You two kids run along now. I'll see yous around." He tried not to laugh when he heard Buddy fretting over potentially getting fired for starting a fight. Kid still had a lot to learn about how Joey Drew Studios ran for all these years. Sometimes tough love was all it needed. But not this time.

His nanna's tales rushed back to him when he'd cornered Sammy in his office. Norman didn't like roughing people up, but he'd promised the music director that if he stepped on any toes for the wrong reasons he'd give him a whooping like the one the blond had been begging for, back when he'd first harassed the projectionist. He had half a mind to start hollering until he'd caught sight of Sammy's eyes. Nanna had described insanity in great detail. The unfeeling and unfocused darkness in poppop's eyes that consumed the man she'd loved and left nothing behind. Sammy's eyes were a soft hazel, the nice flicker of green so full of the essence that made Sammy Lawrence who he was. What Norman saw instead of those pretty peepers were dark pools, a sickly grayish brown with flecks of blackness like tar. Like ink... Norman completely forgot what he was to say. He couldn't bring himself to talk when he saw the same thing that had tormented his nanna's dreams. It just wasn't right.

Joey Drew was up to something, and Sammy was involved somehow. By his own volition, Norman wasn't too sure. The kid was acting mighty strange since Norman had noticed his eyes had inexplicably changed color, and whatever progress for positive change he'd made was completely gone. If anything, Sammy had become an incredibly volatile and aggressive husk. Very few people noticed, which was what was so concerning. "It can't be a coincidence... Joey barely showin' his face 'round the departments and Sammy actin' up like the devil bit him in the ass..." He'd paced as he watched Jack drink what was likely the 5th cup of coffee he'd in the morning. "Whatever it is, Sammy's more enthusiastic about his songs for a change..." He sounded nonchalant about it. "He complained about all the pieces Drew forced him to change... Now he's less, angry about those. Seems to love them actually." "Those little annoying jigs? He said they was garbage!" "And they are. Putting lyrics to those was dang awful but... Well if he's happy, I'm happy..." Jack gave a weak smile before coughing a rather wet sounding cough. He took another sip of his coffee to sooth his throat. "You comin' down with somethin'?" "Must be... This gross cough has been popping up a lot. And my nose is awfully stuffy. Can't smell or taste nothing, which is good considering I gotta hide away in the sewers to work..." Norman huffs. People were getting sick from being forced to do overtime with no rest. Jack getting sick wasn't entirely out of the question. But the stench of something acrid coming from his mug did give him cause for concern. Best check to see if Wally hadn't accidentally stored the coffee beans with the cleaning supplies again. A week later he forgets about it once he instead finds himself making a list of the people he stops seeing around the Studio not long after he noticed something up with Joey and Sammy.

There's Jack, who he hadn't noticed gone at first until he'd gone poking around the sewers and not caught sight of the shorter lyricist. There was Johnny Brokehart, who's organ was completely abandoned in its little corner. No one dared touch it, in case the man returned and found so much as a pipe out of place. There was Julian Whitaker, the tall gangly cellist that often sat with the resident art critic, that Vernon fellow who liked to stare at the cartoon posters like they were masterpieces on display at a museum. Susie Campbell had gone too. Wally insisted she hadn't quit, and was awfully worried about her. Allison and Thomas had also up and split after they'd made a scene at one of them fancy parties Joey used to get investors to dump money into his lap. Shawn Flynn, Grant Cohen, Bertrum Piedmont, Lacie Benton, Emma LaMonte... People were vanishing left and right and there was no say of them being fired. Norman had a theory, and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to do his best to inform the younger hires to run before something inevitably happened to them. He told Buddy and Dot it was dangerous, in as little words he could so not to let Joey catch wind of what he did know. He prayed to whatever god was out there that no bad befell those two kids. And then he'd grabbed his light and went down, where the groaning and moaning came from.

Norman ran. Ran as fast as he could, trying not to look at the things trapped in those tubes. The creatures that were tall, gangly, and vaguely humanoid. Weeping faces pressed to the glass, begging to be let out. The disgusting sludge creatures, barely holding themselves together and clawing at the glass in obvious suffering. The thing that had Sammy's voice and that was rushing after him, axe in hand and Bendy mask covering its face. Screaming at him to accept the "Lord's" blessing. He ran and dodged strikes that nicked his elbows, his legs, grazed his ankle and back... He came to a full stop before what could only be described as a throne. Horrified to find something twisted that looked like a humanoid corpse-like Bendy bound in chains. And then he was knocked onto the floor, air escaping his lungs from the sudden collision. The Sammy thing was on top of him, overjoyed to have caught him. And then all around, Joey Drew's voice filled the room... The thing on the throne shook and hissed. "Excellent... You know what to do Prophet. Baptize this non-believer in the name of your lord." "Anything for you my lord. Anything!" Norman tried to fight him off, knocked that silly mask off his face even. Except there was no face. Not even eyes. Windows to the soul... If he had none, then did Sammy even have a soul anymore? The axe raised, and Norman Polk didn't even have time to scream before it plunged into his chest, destroyed his ribcage, and obliterated his heart.

#Eps Writes:#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Norman Polk #Sammy Lawrence

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reidsrecs · 4 years

Text

Remembering You - Chapter 1

By: Kally and Abby

While Spencer is away on a case, the reader figures out she is expecting his child, but only to get a call from Garcia that he has gotten into a horrible accident. Which will change their lives for the worse and causes him to lose some of his memory, which includes who the reader is. How far does the reader have to go? To remind Spencer of who she is, to Remember You.

Category: Fluff and angst.

Warnings: Mentions of Injury.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/n: This is our first time writing fanfic, so please bring constructive criticism and positive feedback!! We hope that you will enjoy this story as much we had writing !!! Have fun on this journey ;)

Memories

** Week 3**

(Y/n) woke up dreading the feeling knowing that Spencer is not by her side, pulling her back to his chest, holding her, and not wanting her ever to leave his side as if to stay in bed with him forever. (Y/n) sighs when reaching out to get her phone knowing that he hasn't replied to the fourteen missed calls and the several text messages that she has left over the past two weeks while he has been on the recent case. Thinking that it has been two weeks, she knows this one must be a tough case, and she understands that he has more important things to do than to be texting her. One text or call of saying hello would be nice, but she assures herself that he is okay. She is off right now instead of being in the field with the rest of the team because Hotch insisted she takes this case off since the previous one was hard on her. (Y/n) finally gets the courage to crawl out of bed, lifting the heavy blankets off and taking her phone off the charger as she makes her way to the kitchen to make breakfast. Suddenly as (y/n) makes it to the kitchen, she feels bile running up her throat, making her run to the bathroom quickly, and throws up her dinner from the night before into the toilet. As she leans her head away from the toilet, she remembers what she could of the night she was wasted at the bar as a celebration to a successful case.

Spencer observes (y/n) as she is taking shot after shot, totally getting out of hand with the drinking. He smiles to himself as (y/n) tells jokes to the rest of the team, making no sense at all. The young doctor sees that (y/n) catches him staring at her; they hold that eye contact until she breaks the silence with a slurred remark saying,

"You look pretty cute staring at me like that," while giving him a cheeky wink.

Spencer blushes taken back from her words, and replies,

"U-um, thank you, you look beautiful tonight (y/n)."

She giggles at his response while she takes another shot of her favourite drink, lime-flavoured tequila, the warm liquid burning down her throat. As the night progresses, more and more people from the bar leave without a hurry, including the agents, leaving Spencer and (y/n) sitting at the bar table alone. While Spencer sips on his third glass of water that he's been slowly drinking all night, he subtly watches (y/n) drink her final last shot. As she stumbles out of her chair, she states that she is going to call a taxi. In response, Spencer gives her a puzzled expression thinking that she would ask him to drive her home first since they are such close friends. Before (y/n) can dial the taxi, he speaks up, offering to take her home. She doesn't give much of a response, more of a slow, exhausted nod, Spencer seeing that she is about to pass out, picks her up, and she doesn't give any struggle. On the car ride back to her apartment, he looks over to her, softly snoring, thinking back to the comment she made earlier that evening, questioning himself if she meant it. Denying himself that she did mean it, and it was her drunk self-talking. Back at her apartment, he lays her down in bed, just as Spencer is about to leave he hears a quiet mumble from (y/n),

"Stay with me ??"

, while lazily patting the other side of the bed. Spencer cautiously obliges not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. (Y/n) feels the bed sinking while he awkwardly sits against the headboard, making a distinct distance between them. As he sits there, he spots a book filled with all of Edgar Allen Poe's stories. He's intrigued because he has the same copy, so he picks it up, flipping the pages to his favourite story.

"Did you know that Edgar Allen Poe often wrote with his Siamese cat on his shoulder?" He chirps in a soft whisper.

(y/n) being too tired to use words, she replies with a soft hum and moves closer to him, slowly curling into his side, wanting to be close to him. Spencer stiffens by her actions, but he puts himself at ease to not make the moment awkward. After a while of reading, his eyes start to droop, wanting too close, so he moves to put the book on the side table where he found it and turns off the lamp while doing this all very careful to make sure that he doesn't wake the sleeping girl next to him. He snuggles up close to her, not wanting to forget this moment. The night quietly goes by when Spencer is rudely awakened by (y/n) running to the bathroom to vomit all the alcohol that she consumed earlier that night. He runs into the bathroom to hold back her hair and rubs her back softly. (y/n) is startled from his actions, but slowly looks over to him and says,

"You know, I meant what I said last night, you are pretty cute." Spencer looks down at her and gives her a warm smile. That is where it all began.

(Y/n) smiles back at the memory of that night, wishing again that Spencer was there to hold her hair back just like he did when she was hungover. She winces when she feels the urge to puke again, so (y/n) leans her head over the toilet to let out the remaining contents she has left to give. After (y/n) feels like she isn't going to puke anymore, she decides not to have breakfast and just heads to the living room. As she sits onto the couch, her phone dings, she checks the notification and sees that it is her period tracker. She looks at her phone with wide eyes, shocked to see what it has to tell her.

You are two weeks past your period date!! Please go to the nearest pharmacy and check to see if you have a baby on the way !!;)

(Y/n) curses under her breath while she goes to take a quick shower knowing that she might know the answer to this crazy new information. As Spencer and her have just started trying for a baby, (y/n) didn’t expect that it would happen so quickly. She dresses in a rush and snatches her keys off the kitchen counter and runs out the door. Arriving at the pharmacy and going straight to the health and safety aisle to grab three different brands of pregnancy tests to make sure. She paces to the front counter. When she reaches the cashier guy, he blushes and awkwardly pauses, and then mumbles a small stuttery

"C-c- congratulations ma'am, if it's positive, would you be excited?,"

while giving a nervous chuckle. (Y/n) looks at him with an irritated expression wondering why he was so nosey, she replies with a sassy manner,

"Is it any of your damn business if I am or not?"

feeling a slight pang of guilt with the tone she has replied with, knowing that he didn't mean any harm. She quickly paid and used long strides to get to the bathroom at the back of the store. On the way back (y/n) can already picture the image of Spencer holding their child as if it’s the most valuable treasure. Seeing the way he is with godson, Henry, she knows he would make an amazing father.

She enters the bathroom and locks the door behind her. (Y/n) sits down on the toilet and takes all three of the tests. After she is finished, she sets a timer for three minutes, while she is waiting, her nerves get to her, making her pace around the small clean bathroom. Who knew that three minutes could take so long. As the timer that she had set went off, (y/n) looked down to see that all the results showed a positive symbol. In shock (y/n) sits back on the toilet, puts her hand over her mouth, and stares at the small plus sign in front of her. She looks back one more time to make sure the test is positive and then puts them back in her purse. She's so excited that she didn't even notice the happy tears that were sliding down her cheeks. (Y/n) wipes them off her cheeks, then thinks about the future she and Spencer will have together. This will be a long journey, but she knows it will be worth it in the end, and the thought of her and Spencer being a family made her stomach feel like hundreds of butterflies were in it. Since (y/n) is eating for two, she thought to herself; she might as well stop and get something to eat at an In and Out. As she pulls through the drive-thru, she stares at the menu for a while, until she decides on getting a veggie burger.

As (y/n) gets her food, she decides to go to her and Spencer's favourite park. The idea of going there makes her feel closer to Spencer, and at the thought of that, she gives a small but warm smile. Heading to her usual spot and getting her veggie burger out of the In and Out labelled bag, she sinks her teeth into the food as she smiles with delight from the delicious flavours she's tasting. As she is finishing eating and is only slurping what's left of her lemonade, she stares over to the playground watching the kids laugh and play. Thinking to herself that one day she will be able to bring her kid to the park where she and Spencer spent many days and nights together, whether it was them walking along the lake or gazing at the stars on a clear night, where they made the best memories. Although she knows Spencer won't respond cause he is probably busy working up a profile, she decides to send him a message and a picture to tag along, saying, Wish you could be here with me right now !!! But I know that you're out doing what you love most !!! I'll probably stop by the office to check on Penelope and see how she is doing. Haha, I can’t help there to be another motive to see Garcia and that is to see what is taking you and the team so long? but I'll see you when you get back!!! I also have a big surprise to share with you when you get back, and I know you will be thrilled. Sending the text, (y/n) lays her phone next to her and watches the family of ducks walk through the park and into the lake, thinking how adorable they are. As the sun sets, and everyone is leaving (y/n) finally decides that it is time to go home as she stands up and brushes any remaining crumbs from her dinner while she’s cleaning herself up (y/n) phone rings. As she looks down to see who was calling, she smiles to see it's Garcia.

"Hello?!,"

Garcia says as soon as (y/n) swipes on her phone to accept her call. Weird, she didn't say anything else, no happy or cheerful or even a sweet comment, just a single word.

"Hi, Garcia! Are you doing okay? You umm sound a bit off,"

little did (y/n) know that Garcia was trying to hold back her tears and stay strong for her.

"Umm (y/n), I have some concerning new that I need to tell you,"

there was a long pause before Garcia took a deep breath and continued,

"The team got into a severe car accident, and many of them are injured and in the hospital but-"

Garcia pauses while there is a moment of quiet sorrowful silence. (Y/n) heart is beating fast, she's in absolute shock, not knowing what to say or do. She just stands there helplessly in silence, breathing loud enough so that Garcia knows she's still there. (Y/n) doesn't want to think that after all that horrific news there's still more Garcia hasn't said yet. She's so worried about the next sentence that she sits back down on the freshly cut grass where it was still warm and had a slight indent from her sitting there just moments ago, full of joy and hope.

"But (y/n) S-Spencer is,"

Garcia can't hide the sob that slipped between her brightly coloured lips that had a bright shade of pink lipstick; she applied earlier in the day to surprise Morgan when he got back from his case. Garcia continued through her crying

"(y/n), Spencers in a post-traumatic coma and I'm afraid that the Doctors don't know when he will wake up again....,"

Garcia forced the words out of her even though they felt like ice cutting into her heart. She had to force them out like that, or else she wouldn't be able to tell (y/n). There was yet another long pause between them, but this one was different. Both women couldn't speak out of the shock and fear that was flowing through their bodies. They sat there in that silence until Garcia dared to ask

"(Y/n) are you okay? Please talk to me, you haven't said a single word, I'm not even sure if you're the-,” Garcia was abruptly interrupted by a sobbing and angry (y/n), she started to yell, "No, I'm not okay Garcia, in fact, I am the very opposite of okay. The father-," she couldn't stop sobbing making it hard to speak, but she was so angry, so she kept going,

"The father of my child may not ever be able to wake up again, so forgive me for not saying a word," (Y/n) doesn't know why she does it, but she hangs up. After the very second she hangs up, she hugs her arms around her knees, feeling the cold grass get wet beneath her from the mildew that had slowly snuck up as the night went on. (Y/n) then just bursts into more inconsolable sobbing, she cries so hard that she feels dangerously light-headed. The next thing she knows, her eyes are barely lifting open, but for a split second, she has them open. (Y/n) looks down to see that she is in a hospital bed before passing out.

To be Continued….

#spencerreid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid story #spencer reid series #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds #mattewgraygubler #matthew gray gubler

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sarkywoman · 4 years

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I was tagged by @unrememberedskies! Answer 10, ask 10, tag 10 people. Except I’m just gonna answer 10.

1. What was your first fandom? Are you still a part of it?

Depends. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was the first time I engaged with other fans consuming fan content and making my own. That was back when I was about 14. The school librarian thought I was so studious lol, on those computers all the time... alas, I was looking at webrings about Spike and Xander. One could make a case for Red Dwarf, which I loved my whole life, owned merchandise and VHS tapes of the blooper reels and watched every ep, memorised the scripts etc, but I think of fandom as something creative/interpretive, which I never did with RD. I wouldn’t say I’m still part of either fandom, though I never stopped being a fan.

2. Current self care method(s)?

Uhh, I do to-do lists. Start of the year I set some goals like I was in an MMO: dailies, weeklies, monthlys, an annual goal and the lifetime love: writing. I try and strike off four things a day, changing up what those things are every once in a while to tackle new issues. I suffer hard with depression and doing something makes me feel I’m not totally failing at life.

3. What are three (3) shows you keep meaning to binge watch but haven’t yet?

I have an A4 page with three columns of show titles to watch... ;_; I have zero attention span for new shows lol, I literally have to put ‘watch TV’ on my to-do list or I won’t do it.

4. Do you stay active in fandoms after a new one catches your eye, or are you more a one at a time person?

Oh, I try. Lord how I try. But no, I move on. Someone actually once posted a fandom secret on LJ about how they hoped my new fixation would crash and burn so I’d go back to writing for my old fandom. I took it as a compliment XD

5. What was the last movie you saw with someone else? What would you rate it?

I think it was Birds of Prey? I enjoyed it, then actually enjoyed it more on the rewatch, once I knew what was going to happen and could look at the themes and appreciate the way they’ve written Harley without being at the edge of my seat growling “WHERE IS HUNTRESS SHE IS WHY I’M HERE?!?!”

6. Favorite guilty pleasure?

Um, I dunno. There are a few people who try to make me feel bad for liking things that they deem ‘childish’ but I figure I’ll just keep making it clear they can fuck right off. I only get one life and it’s not turning out great, if I want to read comics and play computer games in between trying to get tedious adult shit sorted out, then I will.

7. What’s a highly underrated show/movie/book series that you would recommend?

Show: Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency. Specifically season one, which was just so damn weird and wonderful and had Samuel Barnett acting his socks off as an adorable sunshine man while telling an unusual story about not being perfect but making the effort to be better. Season two was okay, but didn’t thrill me in quite the same way.

Movie: This won awards and has been critically acclaimed so probably doesn’t count, but I see a lot on tumblr about how Joker sucked or was problematic or whatever. As a neurodivergent person in a few ways, that film blew my fucking socks off. I cried. I went to see it four times. He gets seen, but only once he’s beyond saving.

Book: Terry Pratchett’s Discworld is the only fantasy I’ve ever felt worth reading. Again, I struggle to determine what’s ‘underrated’, the question probably wants something obscure, but I’m not hipster enough for that XD So I qualify this as if anyone hasn’t read Discworld novels, they’re being unfairly underrated because everyone should read them. I like the night watch ones best and I’m gutted they’re making a show inspired by them that will look nothing like them and carry nothing of the themes and fun.

8. Any new hobbies you’ve started during quarantine? Any you want to start?

I’m still working :/ Other than that, keeping up with my usual. Writing, studying very basic Law, gaming, tidying/cleaning. This week I’ve cracked out my old roleplay books and started generating UA character templates for fun. Oh, I vaguely started studying Latin too. I read Great Expectations, which was kind of dull. Now I’m reading a book about Nuclear War propaganda in the UK.

9. What meme do you wish would just die already?

Tiger King ones because I haven’t seen it and I’m out of the loop XD

10. Spread the love to your followers and post at least one link to a fic you’re reading/have read/wish to read/you’ve written yourself/etc.

I don’t read nearly enough these days but All That I have to Lose by @unrememberedskies is a delightful piece of Kliego angst, @spikeymarshmallows recently wrote an OD Kliego bit called a steady beep that’s a bit of angst set in her otherwise-mostly-peaceful/sexy museum ‘verse. Now that netflix is showing Community again let me tell you that @freshgratednutmeg wrote me whore!Jeff once, Transactional Methods and Theories. As for my own fic, it’s on my AO3 here. (My highest kudos work is an utterly self-indulgent vampire Game of Thrones AU called ‘Noble Blood’, go figure, but my writing improves as time goes on. If you’re into Borderlands, I’m still very proud of my Rhack fic, ‘Young God’.)

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do it!

#long post

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oilslicksoftserve · 4 years

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You ever think about how so many people had universally terrible experiences from 2011-2015/2016 and realize it’s probably an end result of us growing up on this website?

Like, we’ve varied in ages from early teenhood to early adulthood, but those are ages where we’re still developing socially and cognitively, and a lot of us compensated attention and education on here when our IRL lives and families didn’t provide by spending excessive amounts of time on here in our formative years (sex-ed was pretty good on here, though, I think that helped a lot of people out).

And as a result, at young ages for years we were exposed to:

Anti-treatment, anti-therapy, and anti-medication rhetoric by people who have either never sought out psychiatric assistance or had a bad therapist encouraging people to get off their meds and avoid therapy, and if you did either of those, you were The Enemy

Enabling of mental illness symptoms, fully excusing damage done by people with mental illnesses, and terrible coping methods (including encouraging re-traumatization alone with no moderation...actual exposure therapy is supervised for a reason...).

The development of a very harassment-centered culture lacking any critical thinking at all sucking young people in, exacerbated by the anonymous feature

Very restrictive expectations of how trans people should look a la uwu smol bean for trans men and Nonbinary people (the latter later on) and if they didn’t look like skinny androgynous hairless twinks they got harassed, meanwhile trans women got pretty much ignored until like 2014

Fandom drama with no nuance whatsoever, older fandom members getting weird boomer-like complexes

The notion that you need to leave fandom in general if you’re over 21-25 (varies by time period and fandom), usually only targeted toward women and carried a lot of sexism

Porn of all flavors, even the highly disturbing types in our face for years because people refused to tag NSFW and put it in main tags--and many of us were already desensitized to shocking porn only became more numb to it and stopped seeing it as a problem

One thing I’ve noticed a lot of Gen Z people haven’t experienced that numbness via exposure to early-mid 00′s internet, and don’t hand-wave those topics off as much.

A year or so where everyone was encouraged to consume, interact with, and post about porn regardless of age, which is pretty fuckin dangerous, dude, and it seemed to be out of defiance? And if you complained about this to any capacity, you were a pearl-clutching, slut-shaming prude. That was the perfect hunting ground for predators, jfc.

Also this is probably why current NSFW content creators work so damn hard to keep minors out of their space (aside from the fact minors are walking legal liabilities in that realm), we remember the shit that went down and what we saw too young, and how porn creators were treated like they had to be educational with everything they did...

Responsible creators wanna keep you safe, kids, and any adult who WANTS you to be in NSFW spaces and enables that are bad news.

Call-out posts

Just. call-out posts. Tumblr Call out posts.

Really petty reasoning, unsubstantiated accusations, & really old receipts in a lot of them (seriously, if someone did something 5+ years ago and don’t do it anymore, odds are they’ve improved and don’t think that way anymore ( that is affected by their age, of course, too))

The pressure to put every scrap of sensitive info about yourself online for everyone to see or you were judged

No wonder so many of us have psychological and emotional problems, a lot of which are a result of straight-up emotional trauma

#long post #txt #ask to tag #transphobia #kind of #more along the fetishism route

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