#pushed this one out and going back to art block instantly

[starlordsandrockets]

The Bet

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+ , fake dating

word count: 9k

summary: You find yourself in attendance of a Gala with Peter Parker as your (fake) date. The two of you end up making a bet: Peter tries to make you fall for him by the end of the night.

a/n: sorry, i found myself in the worst case of writer’s block i’ve had in awhile. ANYWAY, i hope this makes up for it

“All I’m saying is that you’re going to look ridiculous,” Tony spoke. The rim of an almost empty glass of whiskey sat against his smiling lips, “Even Nat’s bringing a date and you two are two sides of the same coin. I don’t see how you can’t put up with a man for just one night,” Your gaze made him choke on his drink slightly, “or, or a woman?” He questioned, unsure of the reason for your deadly glance.

“I-I could get a date,” You stuttered, bringing your own glass to your lips. You crossed your legs, the black dress sat tightly against your knees. A pair of equally dark heels sat on your feet. The shoe dangled off your elevated foot, “I just chose to go stag, more of my vibe, you know,” You laughed it off.

“You’re a real lone wolf,” Tony spoke, “Are those still called bitches? Or is that just dogs?”

“Fuck off,” You groaned, finishing off your glass, “I’ll find a guy at the gala, alright. Spare me,”

“No, spare me,” Tony spoke, placing a hand on his chest dramatically, “Stark bringing along a virgin of an intern. All brain and no game,” He almost slurred, “But I guess that modest dress makes you kind of sexy in a mysterious way,”

“Forgive me for not breaking out my little black dress,” You told him, “It’s a gala. At an art museum, it’s not like we’re going to some night club”

“Oh, we’re not?” Tony questioned, “Then why are you totally pregaming with me right now,” He poured you another glass of whiskey with a shit eating grin.

“It’s the only way I can deal with you,” You admit with a smile, “This way you get a little more tolerable,”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Tony spoke, raising another glass. However, his toast was cut short as someone caught his eyes, “Ah! Pete! Perfect, absolutely perfect,”

You turned your head, your loose, y/h/c waves twirling, “Come on, Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, a sigh passed through his lips as he noticed Tony’s buzzed state, “There’s still like, an hour ‘til we leave,”

“Yeah! Perfect, enough time for you to have a drink with us,” Tony smiled, walking towards Peter. He took hold of Peter’s arm, dragging him into the lounge.

Peter wore a black suit, nothing fancy besides the luxury brand Tony had paid for. His hair was gelled into place and it made you laugh to yourself, “What?” Peter questioned as he heard you almost giggle. A subtle blush sat on his freckled nose. A drink found a way into his hand as he stared at you, “Mr. Stark, you know I won’t feel a thing from this,”

“Humor me, kid,” Tony spoke, “Er- us,” He motioned towards you.

You were reclined on Tony’s expensive couch as you bounced the heel that sat loosely on your foot, “Please, I’m being held here against my will,” You spoke, making Peter smile. You extended your arm, placing it on the back of the couch. Stretching, you pinched your shoulder blades without a thought. However, Peter’s thoughts were racing, the position pushing out your chest, drawing all of Peter’s attention to you. He did not think you could consume any more of his thoughts than you already did, but here he was. Knocking back whatever liquid was in the glass Tony had given him, he swallowed it in hopes of also swallowing his dirty thoughts. As he expected, it did not work.

“Y/N needs a date tonight,” Tony spoke as you took a large sip, making you instantly choke. The action was not comical, like in the movies and books, but had you embarrassingly gasping for air and coughing up a lung, “As charming as she is in this very moment, do you think you could do me a favor and not let her show up like that,” Tony spoke, “She’s my intern and I’d hate to have her overshadowed by me, and Pepper, of course. So what better than my intern showing up with my totally-not-an-Avenger, and totally real intern,”

“Are you sure this isn’t another, against her will sort of situation?” Peter questioned as you continued to cough, physically unable to say no.

“She’s not objecting,” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving him a drunken shake.

***

“After the carpet, I’m finding the drinks and leaving your ass,” You spoke, “I don’t care if people think I’m alone, okay.”

“Yeah… right,” Peter spoke as he sat next to you in the long limo. The two of you sat somewhat isolated from the others. The group was paired off and in their own world, leaving the two of you to realize just how alone you really were, “Me too, I wanted to come alone anyway,”

“Me too,” You added, repeating your previous claim. Your hand found the vodka cranberry that the limo’s bar provided, “I’ve always been alone,” You informed as you brought the glass to your lips, “Why start now,”

***

You felt your stomach turn as the camera flashed. You had yet to place a single one of your black heels on the red carpet of the gala and you instantly regretted the drinks you downed to calm your nerves, “Hell no,”

“You’ll be fine,” Peter spoke, “They probably won’t even bother us if Mr. Stark’s around, not to mention everyone else,” He spoke, “Literally everyone but us,”

“That makes me feel so much better,” You almost laughed, “Thanks,” Your word was blunt. You were used to being in others' shadows. You rushed before Peter, wanting to spend the night the way you were used to: alone.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, unsure how he had upset you. 

Since Peter could remember, you had always been standoffish, never reaching out for company at the compound. Always shutting yourself off in the lab, you would get your work done and leave if it was not too late of a drive. You would crash on the couch whenever Tony refused to let you leave after 1am. Tony never wanted to feel guilt of you overworking yourself in the lab only for you to fall asleep at the wheel on your drive home.

Peter recalled the sight of you sprawled out on the lounge’s large couch, a blanket tossed over you as it barely covered your exposed skin. Peter could not help falling for you after he caught that sight more than a few times. He had helped you through a few too many drinks, holding your hair as you emptied your night into Stark’s million dollar toilet. Peter was unsure if you remembered nights like that.

Peter knocked into you, bringing him back to reality as you stood frozen in front of the flashing cameras, “You’re Tony Stark’s intern, aren’t you?” Someone from the crowd questioned, voice booming over the other shouts, “Is it true you work on the Avenger’s upgrades?” The man asked.

“Y/N calls all the shots for Avengers’ upgrades,” Peter spoke next to you. Your head spun, not only from the attention, but towards Peter, “I- They’d be lost without her,”

He was not wrong. You fixed nearly all the flaws you found in Spider-Man’s suit. They were only flaws due to Peter’s way of thinking. Tony had designed the AI with himself in mind and not Peter, “Smile,” Peter whispered in your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. You could barely see, the white flashes blinding you. Reaching out, Peter placed his hand on the small of your back. Your lips parted, about to snap a sarcastic remark at Peter’s advancement, however, you felt his clammy hold through your dress’s thin fabric, making you smile.

***

“So,” You said, “You’d be lost without me?” Your question teased Peter as the two of you finally made your way into the gala’s main room.

“I can admit it,” Peter spoke, “I don’t have some weird complex like you, or Mr. Stark,”

“Don’t compare me to Tony,” You told him, still a little buzzed from not only the alcohol in your system but also the camera flashes, “God, if I get that bad kill me,”

“If you didn’t fix my suit, I might have by accident,” Peter admitted. He had eventually gotten the hang of his suit’s AI, however the changes you had made allowed him to fully master his potential, “but, yeah,” His words were smooth, “I would be lost without you, honestly,”

“Including now?” You questioned, now realizing you did not wish to face the night alone. Especially now that you have seen the amount of older men that would surely harass you if you found yourself alone, “so, leaving you behind would be a terrible idea,”

“Absolutely terrible,” Peter played along, a smile threatening to curl his lips. He knew your games and when you were hiding your true emotions, “I’m not sure if I could make it through this boring gala by myself. You’d be doing me a huge favor,”

“Yeah?” You questioned, “Then you owe me,” Your eyes searched for any amount of food you could ingest before you had more drinks to get you through the night.

“How is that fair?” Peter laughed, however, he had not made it known that he knew the facade you were putting up, “You know what, fine,” He gave in, “I owe you, whatever you ask,” As soon as the words left his lips he caught you smile, “No, no, no,” He rambled as he heard you laugh.

“Oh you can’t take it back,” You laughed, “This is going to be fun,” Peter followed you at your heels as you searched the huge gallery for food or drinks, “Maybe I’ll hold this over your head for a while,”

“Y/N,” Peter groaned, meeting your eyes. His regret faded as soon as he saw your smiling eyes and grinning lips. He was just glad that you were having a good time.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Your name was called out, attracting your attention as well as Peter’s to a man who seemed to be in his late thirties. He was cute. Peter must have read your mind, or maybe caught on to your swooning gaze, as his hand found the small of your back once again, “Pardon my interruption,” the man questioned Peter’s touch.

“No interruption,” You spoke, stepping out of Peter’s warm touch, “Just simply company, to get me through the night,” Peter stiffened at your words but your back faced him, unable to see the consequence of your claim, “Y/N Y/L/N,” You spoke, extending your hand.

The man smiled at Peter’s misfortune, “I’m glad to have caught you, I’m the gallery’s director,” He watched as your eyes lit up for a moment, “Phil Weston,” Phil introduced, “I was wondering if we could rent some of your work. Give you your own exhibition,” He watched as you stumbled over your thoughts before him, “Or should I be going through your assistant here?” He motioned towards Peter, “That’s what you are right?” He almost degraded.

“I’m a little more than that,” Peter spoke, unable to shine light on just how important he truly is. But you knew, he was sure you would back him up.

“Sure,” Phil spoke, “Well, Y/N,” Turning, he retrieved a tall glass from a woman who appeared behind him mid conversation. The glass of champagne made its way into your hand, your rings knocking against the thin glass. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small card, “Here’s my card,”

“Thanks Weston,” You smiled around the glass. Sticking the card between your two fingers, you flashed it to Peter, “Keep this safe for me,” You jokingly instructed, “assistant,” You heard Phil laugh as he departed.

“You’re ridiculous,” Peter spoke, not taking the card out of your grasp. The dark paper still waved in front of his face.

“Me?” You questioned with a bat of your lashes, with a smile you took a large sip of your drink.

“I know we’re playing a part here,” Peter spoke, “but you’re just standing there while that guy humiliates me,”

“I’m not playing a part,” You told Peter, “I call the shots, remember. And you owe me, I could have said something but then you’d owe me even more,” Alcohol coated your words as you studied the Avenger. A laugh bubbled between your lips as you began to tuck the business card into the small purse that sat at your side, “Forget it, Parker,” You informed, finishing off your champagne, “just help me find something else to drink,”

“I think you should eat something,” Peter spoke. Watching you walk away from him he reached out, taking hold of your wrist, “I mean, with how much you’ve been drinking,”

“Are you worried about me?” You asked with a sly smile, “I know you’re my fake date, but you don’t have to act like it,” Your eyes found a large table ordained with finger foods and drinks, “but I’ll humor you,”

“I just don’t want you finding yourself doing something you regret,” Peter spoke, thinking of Phil. He knew that you had more confidence when you drink. Hell, he hated it. You flirted with Peter almost every time you had one too many but in the morning the two of you could be mistaken as strangers, “Or make a complete fool of yourself,”

“That so?” You questioned as the two of you crossed the tiled floor of the museum.

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Peter spoke from where he followed at your heels, “Little do you know, I have a decent amount of blackmail on half the compound. Sure it sucks that I can’t get drunk like the rest of you but, not going to lie, I think I have more fun watching you all make fools of yourselves,”

“What are you, a masochist?” You tease as you turn to him, drink in hand. You caught Peter’s stern glance, “Right, right,” You raised your free hand, retrieving a small sandwich, “See, food,” You stuffed the sandwich between your red lips, “Yum,” You spoke sarcastically, mouth full of food.

“How’d I land such a classy date?” Peter questioned, taking a drink from the table. He knew the alcohol would not affect his system but he did not want to look out of place.

“You wish you could land me,” You washed your food down with a large sip of wine.

“Ouch,” Peter spoke around his wine glass. He was unsure if he was just experiencing placebo from the wine but found himself speaking with newfound confidence, “I could land you… if I wanted,”

“Yeah?” You laughed, “I’d like to see that,” You admitted. You would be lying if you said you did not find Peter attractive. You have seen him at work, in the gym, you have seen him change in and out of his suit right in front of you. Peter might have not known but each time, you glanced at his toned body and mentally drooled. You would not mind if Peter pursued you, you just knew better. Peter was awkward and did not show much interest in you until tonight. He was just doing you a favor, keeping you company. He never spoke to you in the compound besides when he needed to, or when he said hello whenever the two of you passed each other in the large building, “But I know better,” You smiled, “know you better,”

“You think I won’t?” Peter questioned, watching you shrug your bare shoulders. He watched as another glass found its way into your hand, making his job a lot easier. You were a horny drunk and he was about to use that to his favor.

“Are you betting me?” You questioned almost excitedly, “Is this a bet? Please tell me you’re giving me another thing to hold over your head,”

“Sure, it’s a bet,” Peter spoke, taking another sip of wine, “But you have to be completely honest with me. No burying your feelings for me,” He informed, “Any time I ask, you have to tell me exactly how you feel,”

You almost gagged, but Peter was right, you should play fair, “Fine,” You rolled your eyes, feeling yourself begin to sway, “When’s the game start?”

“Right now,” Peter spoke, finishing off what was in his glass. Setting it down, he took yours from your grasp watching you shoot him an angry glance, “and you need to start off by telling me exactly how you feel about me,” His words were smooth, somehow forgetting that he normally had to build up the courage to just say hello to you but in this moment he was closing the space between the two of you, “I want to know what kind of a chance I even have,”

“I don’t think you have to work too hard,” You smiled, your lips beginning to numb. You stared up at Peter. Your eyes were able to count almost every freckle on his boyish face and god did you want to kiss them. Kiss him, even, “I’m kind of drunk,”

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, “I figured that much Y/N,” He whispered as if it was a secret.

“And it’s making you look cuter,” You whispered back, watching your words shoot through his heart like an arrow, freezing him in his tracks, “Even cuter than before,”

“Good to know,” Peter muttered to himself as he watched you take the wine glass back from his hand, your fingers brushing against his clammy hand.

***

“How’s the lone wolf holding up,” Tony questioned as he had excused himself from a conversation Pepper found herself in; checking in on you and Peter, but mostly you. Tony’s eyes followed you as you swayed, Peter’s hand supporting your lower back, “I see you’re holding her up,” He motioned towards Peter as you took another sip of wine, “How much has she had,”

“I lost count, but you know her,” Peter spoke, “She’s almost as bad as you,” He somewhat joked, watching Tony smile.

“I’m fiiiinne,” Your voice drew out, “I’m just bored, so I’m drinking. Sue me,” You groaned, turning to Peter, you studied him and how close he stood next to you, “Can we go dance,”

Peter’s eyes widened as he met Tony’s gaze. Tony sent him a suggestive gaze, “Yeah Pete,” He smirked, “You two should go dance, that’d be a much easier way to hold her up,”

“Pleaase,” You almost begged, “I can’t drink if I’m dancing,” You set your glass down, throwing up your hands in your defense.

“I guess that’s true,” Peter agreed, “Excuse us,” He spoke to Tony who sent him a lovey-dovey look, “Mr. Stark, please,” He muttered, leading you away from Tony and to the gala’s live string quartet.

“I love the violin,” You drunkenly gushed, “I’ve always wanted to play,” You twirled out of Peter’s hold as you entered the floor, bumping into a couple who slowly swayed to the sound. A laugh bubbled from your lips.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke, “Sweetheart, be careful,” He played along with your roles for the night.

“Hm, sweetheart?” You questioned as his hands fell against the fabric of your dress, “Out of all the pet names, you pick sweetheart?”

“What? You want me to call you dear? Like we’re sixty and unhappy,” Peter’s claim made you laugh, “I know better than to call you baby,” He spoke quietly, watching your nose wrinkle, “That’s what I thought,”

“It’s just so formal,” You teased, “I thought the gala was formal enough, but sweetheart? I’m swooning, darling,”

“Ah, darling,” Peter spoke as you brought a new pet name to light, “I still think sweetheart fits you,” The two of you moved in sync without a second thought as your conversation could barely be heard over the romantic strings.

“I know,” You smiled, “I’m a delight, the sweetest at the compound,” You played along.

“No,” Peter continued, “I think that’s Mr. Stark. But you’re a close second,” He spun you in his hold. His eyes studied you as you twirled before him, your hair bouncing as you smiled, a laugh falling between your lips. Your red lipstick no longer sat evenly on your skin from the amount of drink you had. Peter wondered if he should tell you, wondering if you wished to reapply the seductive red shade, however his eyes took you in instead, “You’re pretty,” The words slipped almost silently past his lips.

In an attempt to cover his claim, Peter pulled you back in, making your head spin. His action was quick, or so you thought, maybe you were just drunk, “Did you- did you just?” You stuttered, somehow his quiet claim made your heart flutter slightly. Peter’s dominant hand left the small of your back as it found its way to the side of your neck.

“How do you feel about me right now?” Peter questioned, it took everything in him to hold your eye contact, his body begging his gaze to fall to the necklace that sat against your skin.

You stared into his brown eyes, his gaze reflected sickly sweet puppy love back into your lone glance, “You called me pretty,” Was all you managed to speak, lost in Peter’s imploring gaze.

“Yeah… yeah I did. And how’d that make you feel?” Peter questioned, “Do you like it when I call you pretty?” He was no longer hesitant, realizing you probably will not remember most of the night, in the morning. Peter stared at your stunned expression, taken aback by his words, “You’re not saying no,”

“I’m just-“ You stuttered. The room twirled and you were unsure if it was from your moving feet or Peter’s sweet words. Returning to Peter’s hold, your hand fell to his chest defensively.

“I-I didn’t think you could get any prettier,” Peter spoke, words intertwining with the playing strings. Clearing his throat, he attempted to recover from his stuttered claim. Although he we determined to win your bet, you always managed to make him nervous, “Your hair looks nice curled and your eyes,” Peter rambled, “Your eyes are somehow making me more nervous than usual,” Your gaze was soft and intent, “and your dress,”

“Spare me,” You spoke, “Tony already gave me shit,” Your fingers fell from the fabric of Peter’s suit, touch trailing. Hand falling, it smoothed over the curve of your hip, “I guess I should have gone shorter,” Your eyes found a handful of women in short dresses.

“No-” His voice was almost desperate, “no- I mean. I like this dress,” He watched you raise your brows, eyes narrowing. Peter pulled you closer to him, building up the courage to express his next claim, “I’d rather think about what’s under it,” His voice was somehow smooth, “rather than seeing you in a short dress,”

“Y-Yeah?” You questioned, looking up at Peter’s blushed complexion. You felt your system warm, the alcohol still having an effect over you, “Want to see what’s under it?”

“W-What?” Peter questioned, his dancing pace slowing, “Y/N,” He laughed nervously. You were doing it again, being a horny drunk, “You’re drunk,”

“And you’re winning,” You admitted, “as much as I hate to say it,” The two of you stood on the dancefloor as the others danced around you. Your hands found their way to Peter’s chest, snaking up to his neck until your fingertips brushed against his warm cheeks, “You’re hot,”

“Y/N,” Peter spoke your name, as if he was trying to make sure that all of this was not a dream.

“Bathroom,” You interrupted.

“What?” Peter questioned, wondering if he heard you correctly, “Bathroom?” He watched you nod, feeling nerves rush through him, thinking all that alcohol finally caught up to you, “Yeah- yeah okay,” He helped you navigate your way off the dancefloor.

“Slow down,” You spoke, a little out of breath from keeping up with Peter’s gate in your heels.

Peter felt your fingers tickle against his skin, not realizing he had grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowds. He felt his confidence begin to crumble as he grew further and further away from the crowd.

The two of you traveled down the museum’s large stairs to the lower galleries and bathrooms. You felt the room begin to spin as you attempted to navigate the large concrete steps, “Shit,” You laughed, “These stairs are going to kick my ass,”

“Here,” Peter spoke, his hand fell from your hold. Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around you.

His hold steadied you but equally weakened your knees. Peter’s fingers dug into your shoulder as you looked towards him.

“What?” Peter questioned. Your gate slowed as you studied his face. You never thought he could get more handsome, but here he was helping you down a large staircase like you were some princess in a giant castle. 

Did that make him the prince? Of course it did.

“I’m fucked,” You laughed, your claim was under your breath, however Peter’s hearing still picked up on it.

The claim, unknown to him, was because you found yourself falling even harder for him; however, he thought you were about to get sick. Slipping his free hand behind your knees, he easily scooped you up, literally sweeping you off your feet.

“What are you-“ You felt your face heat up at the sudden advancement, “What if someone sees- there’s cameras-“

Peter did not respond, he was far too focused on getting you to the bathroom. The remaining flight of stairs passed quickly under his shiny black shoes. Turning the stair’s corner, he brought you to the bathroom door that was tucked under the concrete stairs.

“What-What was that?” You questioned, hands gripping Peter’s shoulder, while the other found his hand that gripped underneath your thigh.

“I- What? What do you mean?” Peter questioned right back, “I thought you had too much to drink,”

“I just wanted to freshen up,” You stared back at him, realizing just how close the two of you were.

“Oh,” Peter spoke, embarrassment reddened his ears as he stared right back at you. Walking towards the wall, he pressed your open back against the concrete wall.

“Pete-“ You vocalized as the cold wall touched your heated skin. Your back arched away and towards him in his hold. Realizing your tone, your gaze fell to the floor.

Peter watched as your chest rose and fell heavily in front of him. The skin of your chest was peaking out with each intake, and it silently begged for his lips. He wanted to kiss you- well, he wanted to kiss you every moment he spent with you- but especially in this moment. Rounding his shoulders he brought his face in front of your downturned gaze. He grew closer and closer with each passing moment, eyes fixed on your own. He breathed a shaken breath, palms growing sweating as he inched closer to your lips.

Like ripping off a bandage, Peter was quick and rough. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the museum’s wall. You groaned against him in response to the impact, before kissing him back slightly. However, before you could fully reciprocate, you heard a pair of heels descending the stairs.

“Peter-” You stuttered against his lips, hands pushing against his chest. You buried yourself further into the wall in an attempt to escape his advancement, “Get- Let go-” You watched as your words finally registered in Peter’s brain, his hands dropping you to the floor. You struggled to keep your balance in your black heels. Without a thought, you turned and rushed off into the bathroom.

You placed your hands on the porcelain sink as you stared at yourself in the mirror. If you were not wearing makeup you would have probably splashed your face with cold water, or hell, you would have even slapped some sense into yourself. Suddenly the sound of the bathroom door made you stand up straight. You did not dare to turn your head, to check if it was Peter. You watched as a woman, a little older than you, smiled at you through the mirror. You gave her a weak smile in return, head still spinning in response to the kiss.

You needed to pull yourself together. You were slipping right into Peter’s grasp, not that it was a bad thing, you were just way too competitive. You wanted to win. Opening your small purse, you removed your lipstick. As you applied the shade to your lips, you were far too lost in thought. Staring back at yourself, you were surprised to see that you had mindlessly applied the satin formula.

The woman who had made her way into the bathroom now stood next to you at the sinks. You rubbed your lips together, blending the color evenly, “Having a good night?” You questioned her, preparing yourself for any conversation you would have with Peter.

“Oh yes,” She smiled, washing her hands gingerly, not wanting to bump her diamond bracelets against the porcelain, “I’m sorry for asking- you probably hear this a lot but, what is it like working for Tony Stark?”

**

Peter rocked up and down on his expensive dress shoes. You were taking fairly long. Peter had already calmed himself down in the men’s room after your heated kiss. But now, he knew he would have had time to relieve himself instead. What was wrong with him? It would not have been the first time he had touched himself to the thought of you, but it still felt wrong.

He kicked at the concrete floor, frustrated that your kiss was interrupted so quickly. Suddenly, Peter was pulled out of his thoughts as you exited the bathroom with the woman. You laughed beside her as you locked eyes with Peter, “It was a pleasure talking to you, Y/N,” The woman smiled, lightly setting a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry for keeping her,” She spoke to Peter.

Peter nodded out of courtesy as the two of you watched her climb the large stairs, “What was that about?” Peter questioned, taken aback by the sound of his own voice.

“Oh,” You spoke almost too casually, “She was asking me about Tony. Wanted to know what he’s like outside of the public eye, you know?”

“Yeah?” Peter laughed slightly, “I can imagine you only said nice things,” He joked, knowing how you and Tony bicker, “Obviously,”

“Oh of course,” You joked back. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. You watched Peter laugh beside you, leaning into you, and that is when you remembered the kiss. You must have visibly stiffened because it caused Peter to freeze as well.

“Y/N,” Peter spoke, watching you hesitate to meet his eyes.

You wanted to touch him, pull him against you and into the kiss that was so rudely interrupted. You wanted him to fill your free time, to watch his eyes squint whenever he smiled at your crude, dry humor, “You win,”

“What?” Peter questioned, laughing slightly. Then it registered, the smile faded on his lips and a slight red flush occupied his ears and cheeks, “Oh,”

“Yeah,” You nodded slowly, “It pains me to say it, but,” You groaned, “God I hate this,” You felt Peter’s fingers tickle the skin of your wrist. Your gaze flashed to the skin on skin contact and then the bathroom door.

“What?” Peter questioned again.

“Peter,” You motioned towards the door with your eyes.

“W-Wha- No! Y/N,” Peter stuttered, “No,” His voice was assertive as you almost pouted in front of him.

You bounced on your feet, silently pleading with him. He stood his ground, “Fine. But maybe I’ll change my mind later,”

“I don’t think you will,” Peter spoke, watching you physically wither, “Come on,” He took your hand and began to lead you up the staircase. You reluctantly followed at his heels, dreading what was to come next.

***

You have made it through three separate conversations with complete strangers, all while Peter’s hand rested on the small of your back. To make matters worse, you now locked eyes with Tony. The fake smile that once parted your lips completely faded in his presence, “The kid still needs to be holding you up?” Tony teased as you gave Pepper a genuine smile.

“Pepper, I don’t know how you put up with him,” You spoke, “Sadly I’m sober,” Tony raised a brow at your statement, watching Peter’s hand return to his side.

“I’m surprised she didn’t bite your hand off,” Tony smiled as a woman approached your group with a tray of champagne, “Thank you,” He spoke to her before he passed the group glasses. He brought his lips around the rim of the thin glass, “You starting to warm up to my intern?”

“He’s tolerable company,” You smiled back, taking a large sip of champagne, “Couldn’t say the same about you though,” The tension between you and Tony hung in the air as Peter and Pepper both apologized to each other silently.

“Why don’t we get some air,” Peter suggested, hand returning back to you. He watched you finishing what remained in your glass before giving him a pressed smile.

“Sure,” You nodded, “Nice seeing you Pepper,” Your eyes did not dare fall over to Tony. You watched his hold tighten on Pepper as Peter’s did the same to you.

The two of you made your way towards a secluded exit, avoiding the paparazzi that waited for everyone outside, “Can’t you just play nice for a night?” Peter questioned after your long silence.

“It’s not like- He does that shit on purpose,” You spoke, motioning back towards the door you found yourself outside, “He always has something to say- something to get under my skin. And it’s not like you stepped in and told him to stop,”

“I like seeing you all worked up,” Peter spoke, not realizing how his claim sounded until it passed through his lips. You looked up at him, “Not- Not in a weird way- Well-“ He stuttered. Peter did like it in a weird way. He liked seeing you flustered.

You watched Peter stumble over his words, his gaze falling off of you, “Mm,” You hummed, your tone was teasing.

“I said not in a weird way,” Peter spoke, watching you lean into his, studying his blushed skin, “Y/N,”

“How then?” You questioned, “I’m dying to know,” Bringing your fingertips to a hair that hung against his forehead, pushing it back into his gelled hair, “Your hair looks so dumb,” You teased.

Taking your wrist, he brought you around the building’s corner, out of sight from anyone who would exit the door. He listened to your mumbled complaints before he took hold of both of your arms. Peter pushed you against the concrete building. The cool surface made you hiss before Peter’s hands snaked up your arms to your face. He cupped your cheeks roughly as he brought his lips to yours for a second time.

And you were so glad he did.

Your hands found his black tie, tugging on it. You loosened the fabric, feeling Peter sigh out of relief. You do not know why you started undressing him, but now your fingers fumbled against his white shirt’s small buttons, “Hey, hey,” He almost laughed against your lips, “Slow down,”

“I just want to touch you,” You admitted, pushing aside the white fabric, studying the soft skin of his neck and chest.

“I thought you loved Prada,” Peter joked. He watched you study the suit. Your eyes scanned his body before falling right back to his skin. Little did you know, Peter had asked Tony specifically for a Prada suit after he heard you obsessing over their latest campaign.

“I-I do.” You spoke, “But… I told you- You win,” Your hands held both sides of his shirt’s collar, “Swing me somewhere,”

Peter watched as you pulled yourself closer, your eyes studying his lips. He was clearly an idiot, not acting on impulse. Peter had wanted you for so long, and he hated how this was all happening now, “I, I don’t have my suit on me,” He rambled, watching you pout in front of him. Words mumbled past your lips as you tried to protest, “It’s not like I can just swing you off as Peter Parker, Y/N, I’m an intern tonight. Right? So I can’t just swing you through the city to do whatever I want to you,”

The words fell from Peter’s lips, making yours curl into a subtle smile, “What would you do?”

“What?” Peter questioned, watching you lean back against the building.

“You’d do whatever you wanted to me?” You repeated, “What would you do to me?” Peter stood, disheveled in front of you. His once pressed and buttoned shirt was wrinkled by your hands.

Peter took a step back from you, “Please,” He mumbled, fixing the collar of his shirt. Your eyes studied him before wandering, “What?”

That is when you spotted Tony’s empty limo.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice warned as you took hold of his wrist.

“Please?” You questioned, dragging him towards the parked limo.

“Someone will see,” Peter argued back, however, he still allowed you to drag him into the lot of limos and cars.

“Yeah, in a self driving, tinted, bomb and bullet proof limo,” Your words were sarcastic and the two of you neared the limo, “Friday,” You spoke, reaching out to the limo’s hidden keyboard.

“Y/N,” The system responded, “How may I be of service?”

“Unlock the limo please,” Your hand slipped from Peter’s wrist to his sweating palm.

“Mr. Stark has installed a security protocol for you entering the limo,” Friday explained, making you scoff, “The question is: Who is the world’s greatest boss?”

Your lips pressed into a line as you dreaded answering the question, “Tony Stark,”

“Incorrect,” Friday spoke, making you groan out loud.

Your hold on Peter’s hand tightened, “He made me say it and then- and then he just made the answer some bullshit I won’t figure out-“ You felt Peter’s fingers slip between your own, calming you for a moment, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, Friday,” Peter spoke, “Hey. It’s- It’s me, Peter,”

“Hello Peter,” Friday spoke.

“Yeah, h-hi. Would you be able to let us in please?”

“Of course, Peter,” The two of you watched as the limo door opened.

Turning towards you, Peter studied your annoyed expression, “Still want to go in?” He questioned with sweaty palms.

“I’m not letting Tony kill the mood,” You scoffed, bending your shoulders in order to enter the low limo, “I bet he planned this,”

Peter followed you, listening to your mumbled complaints, “Friday, could you go offline? Please?”

”Of course Peter,” The system spoke, “All audio and video recording will be offline until further instructions,” You whipped your head towards Peter, pampered hair twirling slightly, “Uh- Unless you don’t want to do anything anymore,”. He felt his heart rate begin to accelerate as you crawled towards him on the leather seat.

“I thought there was so much you wanted to do to me,” You teased, watching Peter’s shoulders stiffen slightly, “Unless you don’t,”

“I do,” Peter spoke at an embarrassing rate, “I mean… yes,” His words slowed as he studied the fabric of your dress. His gaze trailed over the dark fabric until it found your neckline, the fabric dripping as you leaned in front of him. Peter quickly brought his eyes to yours, not knowing which sight made him more nervous.

“Okay,” You responded. Picking up your knee, you brought it over Peter’s legs. You slowly lowered onto his lap, “This okay?” You felt as if your heart could pound out of your chest.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled nervously. Your actions were killing him and he did not know if he would be able to hold back. Peter felt the weight of you on his lap, hoping you would not feel just how hard you were making him. Bringing his hands to your thighs, he pushed past the soft fabric of your dress. The fabric pooled around his wrist as his hands trailed up your legs, “shit,”

“Peter,” His name fell quietly past your lips as you placed your hands on his chest, fingertips on his collarbones. You heard him hum in response to his name, “What- What are you going to do?” You attempted to keep up the act, however, being this close to Peter was making you crumble.

“R-Right,” Peter breathed out, feeling his lungs shake as he took in a sharp breath. He studied the skin of your neck as you stared at him. Peter closed the space between the two of you, lips finding the skin he had been studying. His kisses varied, some soft yet some hungry. Peter’s lips parted, his kisses becoming more sloppy as his fingers dug into your plush skin coaxing a whimper from your lips.

The limo air hung heavy with every heated kiss and breath the two of you exchanged. Bringing your hand to Peter’s head, your fingers took hold of his hair. You pulled him away from your neck before you brought your lips to his. Your kisses were equally as hungry and making up for lost time. Hands still exploring his hair, you raked through the gel that held it in place. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you messed with Peter’s gelled hair. A slight smile curled on your lips as you kissed him, “What?” Peter questioned, lips not even an inch away from yours. His eyes studied your smile, teeth appearing between your lips.

“Your hair,” You spoke, leaning back to study it, “Did Tony tell you to wear it like that?”

“N-No,” Peter replied, “I always put gel in. I just used more this time,”

“Yeah well,” You played with a piece of hair that hung out of place, “I like it better like this,”

“Yeah?” Peter smiled.

“Mhm,” You hummed, fingers running through his locks.

“Then I guess I’ll have you do my hair for the next gala,” Peter added.

“Okay,” You answered quietly, eyes now falling to his lips.

“Alright,” Peter smiled, leaning back into you. His lips found yours once more, finding the rhythm the two of you previously shared. 

Peter had no idea how he ever survived this long without kissing you. The feeling of your body and lips pressed against him was enough to drive him insane. He melted against you, fully giving into you. His touch continued to trail up your skin, fingers now tracing the curve of your hips and waist, “Y/N,” Peter breathed out, “Are we doing this? Because I feel like I’m losing my mind-“

“Y-Yeah,” You stuttered, coming back to reality, “We better hurry before Tony realizes we’re gone,” You watched as Peter’s brows furrowed for a moment, “What?”

“I want to take my time with you,” He admitted, “I’m not really a quickie kind of guy,”

“Quickie? What are you, a teenager?” You teased slightly, “You can have me when we get back to the compound,” Peter’s gaze fell from your eyes to the tinted window out of embarrassment, “Yeah? Sound fair?”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, hands leaving your waist and falling onto the fabric of his dress pants. The sound of his zipper made you realize that you were actually about to fuck him and none of this was a dream, “Let’s make this quick then,”

You brought your lips to his in a rough kiss, pushing Peter’s back fully against the limo’s seat. You raised yourself off of Peter’s lap, allowing him to push the fabric of his pants down his thighs. Suddenly, you felt Peter’s finger push your underwear aside, finger running through your wet folds. This caught you off guard, making you jump, body freezing against him.

“You’re so wet,” Peter almost laughed, “How long have you been like this?”

“The Prada got me pretty quick,” You admitted slightly.

“Yeah?” Peter smiled, “It wasn’t the fake dating?”

“S-Shut up,” You stuttered as Peter’s touch returned for another swift motion between your legs, “We d-don’t have time for this,” You spoke, hoping Peter’s teasing would cease as embarrassment flooded your cheeks.

“Right, no foreplay,” Peter spoke, “Not that you seem to need it right now,” He teased, watching your brows furrow, “Right, right,” Peter spoke, pulling a condom out from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

“You, you brought a condom?” You stared at the foil in disbelief, for some reason Peter’s action stirred the butterflies that sat in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter admitted, “I have one on me if I ever think I have a chance with you… and also when I don’t,” Opening the condom, he attempted to distract himself from your quiet laughter above him.

The laughter continued to bubble past your lips. You were not laughing at Peter, but at how stupid you were for waiting this long to act on your feelings. Somewhere between your laughs, Peter had rolled the condom down the length of his dick.

“What?” Peter questioned your laughter as he pushed the fabric of your underwear aside.

“N-Nothing,” You stuttered, catching your breath from your laughs, “I just- I feel like I don’t deserve you,”

Reaching out, Peter covered your mouth. He somehow felt himself grow even harder as the claim left your lips. His dick bounced, attracting your gaze. You felt your face heat up as you took in the sight before you.

Removing his large hand, Peter caught you in a heated kiss. It was a kiss by definition, however it was sloppy and hungry with barely any rhythm to it. As you lost yourself in decoding it, Peter had lined himself up underneath you and began to enter you.

“S-Shit,” Peter stuttered at how tight you sat around his dick. You were so wet for him and he entered you easily, “fuck,”

“P-Peter,” You returned his stuttering, his name falling past your lips as you felt the size of him, “God- shit, you’re big,”

“Right,” Peter laughed as you gave him the classic, cliche line. But he was big and you were not sure if you could thank the spider bite for that or not. 

However, as the single thought crossed your mind, it soon left as Peter began to bounce you above him, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, “Ffffuck,” You moaned from the pressure of Peter’s hands combined with the rhythm he started.

“God you sound so pretty,” Peter groaned as his head tilted back against the seat’s headrest. Your hands, once bunching the fabric of his dress shirt, now traveled to his collar. Your fingers fumbled to unbutton his shirt, hungry for the sight of his soft skin.

As soon as the skin of his chest was visible, your shoulders rounded and lips attached to his collarbone. His skin passed your lips as your teeth marked him, earning a moan from his parted lips.

“Y/N-“ The pain from your mark making only made Peter thrust into you harder and faster, “shit,”

Your hands fell to either side of Peter’s head, holding onto the seat as Peter fucked you. Peter was still holding back, but at this strength, you were still going to be hurting in the morning. You bit into the skin of his shoulder, trying to suppress your moans that only grew louder; screams threatening to replace them, “P-Peter-“ You somehow attempted to speak his name.

“I-I,” Peter almost stuttered, “hate to say it but I’m really close,” He watched as you pulled your face out from his neck, now studying him. He was falling apart below you, everything about you making him weak. Somehow, he felt as if he was becoming weaker just at the sight of you, “Y/N,”

Peter looked as if he was holding on for you, brows furrowed as his teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip. As you studied his lips, you decided to bring yours to his jaw, showering him in kisses. Some were sloppy and some were rougher than others as you attempted to help Peter over the edge he was holding onto, “Want you to cum,” You whispered against his skin, “Cum for me. Please?”

“S-Shit,” Peter breathed out. The curse rang with a slight laugh as you relieved him. With a few more rough thrusts, Peter filled the condom that was deep inside of you, “I-I wanted to last longer,” He informed, however his claim was cut short by your lips finding his own.

“Later,” You reminded him, “If you still want to-“

“I do-“ Peter interrupted. Clearing his throat at his desperation, he spoke again, “Yeah, yeah I’d like that,”

“Yeah,” You smiled, “I’d like that too,” You studied him as you still sat on his lap. However, that is when you remembered where you two were, “Shit-“ You raised yourself off of his lap. A shutter traveled through you as Peter quickly exited you.

“W-What?” Peter questioned awkwardly as the filled condom fell against the fabric of his shirt. Pulling it off of his dick, he tied it off before tossing it in the limo’s trash.

“How long has it been?” You questioned, nervousness rushing through you at the thought of the gala being over.

Your question made Peter’s shoulders round, wishing the limo’s seat would engulf him, “Was… was I that bad?”

“What?” You questioned as you collected yourself, looking out of the limo’s tinted window, “Wh- No- No. I-I meant how long have we been in here,” 

“Oh,” Peter spoke, attempting to make himself look presentable as well, “We should get back to the gala, “Hey- hey Friday, could you come back online please,”

“Of course Peter,” The system spoke as you placed your hand on the limo’s handle.

“W-Wait- hold on I’m almost-” Peter spoke but his claim was interrupted by your low voice.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get out at the same time… in case anyone sees,” Your words were cautious as if you were dancing around an insult, “Anyone being like the media… or-”

“Or Phil?” Peter questioned quite quickly.

“You know what I mean,” You spoke back defensively, “We don’t need any attention drawn towards you or a Stark controversy,”

“I know,” Peter responded, however you were already halfway out of the limo’s door.

Stepping into the cool night air, you took in a sharp breath. You did not mean to hurt Peter’s feelings, but it was just second nature to you. You always said the wrong things and somehow found yourself in arguments, but Peter was the last person you wanted to upset.

“Needed to cool off?” You heard Tony’s voice call out.

“Not now,” You groaned, however you dropped the attitude as you saw the rest of the group not too far behind him, “Party’s over?”

“Yeah you missed it. Where’s Pete? Was he holding your hair after all those drinks?” Tony asked, eyes scanning for Peter. You walked back towards the limo, hoping to warn Peter of the group’s presence before they could catch up. Opening the door you stuck your head into the vehicle, “I’m surprised Friday even let you in there,” Tony spoke as he approached you from behind. He waited for a remark from you. After all, he programmed the question just to mention you, however you were silent. Sticking his head in, he caught the last glimpse of what exactly was going on in his limo.

You pushed Peter away, who as soon as you entered the limo had caught you in a quite passionate kiss, “Not- not now-“

“Do I even want to sit in this limo?” Tony’s voice questioned, making you jump away from Peter’s hold. You sat down, putting a seat between the two of you, “My limo, may I add. God, I don’t even want to think about what you two did in here. And where you did it”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, the group’s presence unknown to him after he stopped you in your tracks as you entered the limo to warn him, “We didn’t…”

“Yeah Pete, real convincing,” Tony looked around as he climbed into the limo,  calculating where the safest place to sit might be, “Could you please just let me know if I’m about to sit in the splash zone or something,”

“I…I swear to fucking god,” You groaned, fingers now rubbing circles into your temples, “Can we all just get in and leave?”

“Why?” Tony questioned, attempting to hold eye contact with you as the rest of the Avengers piled into the limo, “Is there just something you’re dying to finish when we get back?”

“If something did happen tonight, shouldn’t you be glad? Took them long enough,” Natasha spoke, giving you a slight grin. Her red hair, once pulled back taut, now had a few loose pieces that fell against her cheekbones, “Plus, spare me. I’m getting a migraine from all that wine,���

“I’m trying to spare you” Tony spoke, fingers falling against his chest. Raising his opposite hand, he flashed the foil wrapper that sat between his fingers, “I don’t know what seat is safe,”

“Peter,” You groaned, covering your eyes as Tony tossed the wrapper towards you. You rubbed your temples as you heard Peter stutter from where he sat on your left.

“I mean,” Tony spoke, pouring himself another glass of whiskey from the limo’s bar, “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Good for you kid, she’s way out of your league,” Taking a sip, he looked towards you. “So much for lone wolf,”

#peter parker #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfiction #spider-man #spiderman smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #spider-man fanfiction #spider-man fic #spider-man fanfic #spider-man smut #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fanfic #spider man fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

[derekhighwaytf]

Vanity, Oh Vanity

With a chiseled jawline and sculpted muscles that are the result of countless hours in the gym, you must think you’re the spitting image of youth and physical perfection. You exude a confidence that's almost intoxicating. Your hair, a glossy waterfall of golden locks, is your crowning glory, accentuating your overly self-assured smile.

And if life is a game to you, "HookedUp" is your playground. Every day, hundreds of messages fill your inbox from men who would do anything just to get a response back from you. Your fingers dance across the screen, teasing and toying with these horny bastards who seek your attention. The thrill of the chase, the art of seduction—it's a game you play so masterfully. You revel in the attention, basking in your control of the chase, always one step ahead, relishing the power your beauty affords you.

But then, out of the blue, here comes a message from "Need2SuckNow." The profile picture stops you in your tracks—a chubby, bald man with a browless face and a ridiculous mustache. What a fucking loser! You laugh aloud, feeling a mixture of contempt and amusement. He is everything you are not, a stark contrast to your own graceful elegance. These are the guys that make you ashamed of the gay community. Horny, desperate fuckers who are so ugly that they shouldn’t be allowed to see the light of day.

That is, until he messages you. "Too good for me, huh? Well let's see about that.” Your laughter freezes in your throat. A chill runs down your spine, something about the message seeming too unusual just to ignore. You quickly try to block the account, but your app freezes up until you receive another chilling message.

"It must be easy to keep a clean face when you only have to shave once every week. But a mustache would look nice on your upper lip. Must suck that you can't get rid of it."

Your heart pounds as a sudden tingling sensation dances across your upper lip. You dash to the bathroom mirror, terror gripping you as you find a thick, bushy mustache sprouting uncontrollably. You can feel each hair pushing through your skin, an alien sensation that makes your stomach churn. In a panic, you grab your razor and try shave it off, but it grows back instantly, each hair thicker and coarser than before. Your face, once the epitome of smooth perfection, is now marred, the mustache making you appear like some kind of seventies porn actor.

Then a new message pops up: "Hmmm, even with that worm on your face, you're still undeniably sexy. Well, you were, until you lost your hair.”

Your heart hammers in your chest as a foreign sensation begins to crawl across your scalp. Your hair—once your golden crown, each strand lovingly styled and nurtured—begins to wither, shriveling up into thin strings of dull brown. You watch in the mirror, helpless, as each luxurious strand shrivels and falls like brittle leaves from a dying tree. Your scalp tingles with a sensation akin to thousands of tiny ants marching in unison, each step another hair lost, another cruel reminder of what you're losing. In mere moments, you go from a thick, glossy mane to completely and utterly bald, your scalp laid bare, smooth, and cold. The beautiful image you've spent you’re entire life crafting has shattered within mere minutes.

“Well look who went from twink to daddy! You would get to enjoy this if only you weren’t two cheeseburgers away from becoming a bear."

The words echo in your ears as you feel a strange bloating sensation work up your stomach. It starts subtly, a softness in the muscles you've worked so hard to sculpt. Your reflection warps as your once well-defined muscles begin to transform into flabby, gut-like masses. Each ripple and curve you've proudly displayed becomes obscured by an unwelcome softness. Your pecs, once firm and strong, sag into the unrecognizable shape of man boobs. Your abs dissolve into a paunch, like you’ve just drank four kegs of beer, and your arms have now become hefty wind sails.

You strain to move as your body expands, each part becoming softer and more unmanageable. The grace and ease with which you once moved are replaced by a sluggish, heavy feeling. You reach out, touching the body that was once your pride, feeling it jiggle back, unable to reconcile the stranger staring back at you.

A new message chills you to the bone: “And if that wasn’t enough, you might’ve still been able to get laid if you hadn’t shaved your eyebrows off, you nasty punk!”

Your heart lurches, and you instinctively reach up, touching the place where your eyebrows once framed your alluring eyes. They're gone. You feel the bare skin, smooth and empty, the absence more profound than mere hair. Your eyes, once highlighted by well-groomed brows, now stare back at you freakishly, wide and vulnerable, framed by a void that seems to laugh at your former vanity.

“And don’t think you can hide the new you from the world. It’s too bad that you have an insatiable need to get fucked in the kinkiest ways possible. Now that you’re the town whore, everyone knows that you will do anything to get filled.”

A shiver runs through you as a new sensation takes hold—an intense, overpowering craving for cock. It's not just a desire; it's a need, a hunger that gnaws at your very core. Your body aches with it, every fiber of your being consumed by a lust you've never known. You find yourself feverishly messaging guys on the app, the very desperation you mocked replacing the playful teasing that once defined your game. The desire to be filled with cum overshadows everything else, even as your transformed appearance continues to haunt your every move. It doesn’t matter who, you need cock, and you need it now.

The transformation is complete, the new you solidified, your username now the mocking reminder of what you once laughed at: Need2SuckNow. Your vanity, your grace, your confidence—all of it is gone, replaced by an insatiable hunger for cock that will not be denied.

You are Need2SuckNow, and the world will never let you forget it.

#gay tf #male transformation #mental change #tf story #muscle theft #bald #tf #bear tf #bearification

[natuhcake]

This is an excerpt from my Diapered Errands Novel that I’m writing. Currently 45 pages in. Let me know if you Sissies want me to post more of this on here. I normally post it on Deviant Art

Chapter Four: Fun on the Swings

“Wakey Wakey little one! We’ve made it to the park! Aren’t you excited!”

I looked outside and saw a park with a jungle gym and some swings. It was enclosed in a gate and had a large sign on it. Only ones under age 9 are allowed to play here.

Tiffany looked at the sign and opened the gate latch and walked me into the park. She then closed the gate and latched it shut.

“Here let’s get you on the swing” Tiffany exclaimed.

Tiffany brought me over to the swing set and I quickly hopped onto the swing.

“Silly girl! You act way too young to be on the big kids swings. Let’s get you on those” Tiffany pointed to the baby swings with baby seats on them. They looked too small for me but Tiffany insisted.

“I don’t think I’m going to fit…” before I could finish my sentence she picked me up and placed my two dangling feet into the baby swing. I could tell instantly that I was too big and that’s when she let go of me and with my body weight I fell into the baby seat. Both of my legs went through the leg holes and my diapered bottom squeezed inside.

“See! You fit! Let’s get you in the air”

I could tell that I was stuck in the chair, it was very tight but Tiffany didn’t care. She began swinging me up and down and cooing at me.

“Look at how high you’re going, girly! Why don’t you say “weee” for Mommy”

To not make matters worse I listened to Tiffany and began saying “weee” as she pushed me on the swing.

“Wee, weeee, weeee!!” I yelled! Forgetting where I was

I began to worry, what if someone saw me like this, riding on the baby swing in a Pink Satin Romper, buttoned up the back to the top. Pink Satin Bonnet tied around my next and matching pink Satin Booties and Mittens button on. In addition to my pink pacifier attached to my Romper. I tried to see if I could pull myself out of the seat but I couldn’t. My silky mittens weren’t giving me any grip to pull myself up. I’d pull and pull but they just weren’t gripping enough.

Tiffany stopped pushing after a while and was about to take some pictures.

“Oh shoot! I left my phone in the car, I’ll be right back honey, don’t go anywhere!” She said. Before I could attest she placed my pacifier in my mouth. I began suckling the pacifier while I waited for Tiffany to return. After a few minutes I began to worry and turned around in my seat to see if I could see her in the car. The car was not there, it was not in the spot that she parked in and I couldn’t see her MiniVan anywhere. Luckily the park was empty but I needed to get out of the seat. I quickly began to start pulling myself out of the seat but it was really really tough. I was making some progress and then my grip slipped and I fell deeper into the baby swing seat. I began sweating nervously and I ended up filling my diapers with my lunch along with some warm pee. I continued to clutch to the swing. Just when all hope is lost, I see a car pull back into the parking lot. I couldn’t tell what kind of car it was as the sun was setting and was blocking my view but they pulled into the same place Tiffany did. All of sudden the car door opens and an older man comes out. He has a green jumpsuit on and looks to be the groundskeeper for the park. He has brownish long hair and seems to be coming my way.

More Cumming soon!

#sissy crossdress #sissy diapered #sissy cd #happy #blouse #sissy crossdresser #cuteness #humiliated sissy #sissy stories #sissy crossdressing

[pebbleswritessometimes]

This and readers the one on the leash

Writers block is kicking my ass, babe 🥹

This is definitely not one I’m super proud of but practice makes progress :)

Hope this is okay 😘💍

“Always”

Warnings: none really, maybe a pushy man at the end?

“I only want you,” she often assured you, and of course you knew she was telling the truth. Still, you couldn’t help the jealousy bubbling it’s way out any time someone looked in her direction.

Larissa often joked she may need to buy you a leash, and not the fun kind. “I- I am not that bad!” You cried, in an attempt to defend yourself. “You threaten to fight anyone who dares to even look in my direction. We’re attending a gala tonight, dear, people are going to look at us,” she chuckled as she finished applying her makeup. Pushing yourself up, you sat on the bathroom counter top and pouted. “It’s okay for them to talk to you but when they look at you like they want to devour you whole, that’s when I want to destroy them,” you finished with a cheeky smile. She hummed as she hung her robe in the linen closet. Smirking as she walked past you and out of the door, you could just barely hear her say, “well, maybe if you behave…I’ll let you destroy me later,” with a squeak you hopped off the counter and finished getting dressed.

When you two arrived at the venue, you could already tell that both of you would be socially exhausted by the end of it. The decor was absolutely stunning. There was a plush carpet for the attendees to enter on, a large sculpture that was carefully carved out of ice, and a custom art piece for Nevermore Academy. Arm in arm, you and Larissa strolled into the event.

“Larissa! It’s been so long, you look phenomenal,” a tall woman with raven black hair down to her waist, sultrily greeted your partner. Your grip on Larissa had tightened as she interacted with the other woman. Narrowing your eyes as you watched the woman, whose name you learned was Morticia, get closer. “Morticia, this is my partner, Y/N. I wouldn’t be as accomplished as I am, without them,” she spoke full of pride. You stuck your hand out to greet the woman. She was beautiful, that was undeniable, but nothing compares to your wife. Larissa had told you all about her past with Morticia when her daughter, Wednesday, had been newly enrolled. You trusted her, that you were certain of, but Morticia had a certain glint in her eyes when she looked at Larissa. As she left to greet other party goers, you attempted to follow behind her. Taking a step forward, you felt your coat being held in place. Trying once more to push forward, you finally looked to your wife, who had a firm grasp on you. “Uh uh, pretty one. Stay with me,” she smirked as she pulled you back and grabbed your hand. You huffed and rolled your eyes as Larissa just chuckled at your antics.

The remainder of the evening went smoothly and you even enjoyed your time a bit. That was, until the very end. A large man in a very obviously expensive suit and pair of leather boots, walked over with his head held high. “Good evening, ladies,” he smoothed his beard and flashed what you’re sure he thought was a look that would make any woman melt instantly. “No,” was all you said before moving between Larissa and the car door. “Ah, the little lady is feisty, I like it,” he laughed, looking up at Larissa who you could tell was getting uncomfortable. You looked around to check your surrounding just in case you lost your shit,”I’m not a lady, and that one,” pointing towards your wife,” is taken. She’s married. You may leave,” you sneered. You opened the door and ushered your wife into the vehicle, you could sense the concern in her eyes and quickly tapped her arm to reassure her, “Go ahead and start the car, baby.”

Shutting the door, you made your way back to the man. Crinkling your nose, removing your coat, and making some scary eye contact, the man slowly took a step back. “I’m sorry, I thought I said she was taken? Maybe I forgot to mention that. Hm, well,” you cracked your knuckles and slightly tilted your head, as you waited for him to respond. Your gaze remained glued to his, even as your wife rolled the window down,”Y/N, he’s not worth it. Please, get in. Let’s just go,” you didn’t budge. “Thats right, Lady. Get ahold of your fucking animal,” he barked, still looking a little on edge.

“You’re right, Rissa, he’s not. But, you are,” narrowing your eyes, you planted your foot behind you and bent your knees, readying to make this man regret even breathing in her direction. “What the fuck-“ the man furrowed his brows and spoke before being cut off by another woman. “Matthew! They’re all asking for you inside! Hurry up!” She shouted across the lot. You eyed him down as he backed away and sped over to the entrance. Brought back to reality by Larissa calling your name again, you finally grabbed your coat, and got into the car.

“I’m sorry, Larissa. Maybe you should buy me that leash, huh?” You tried to joke, looking up at her with a guilty pout. She smiled, focusing on the road, but occasionally glancing your way, “You wouldn’t be able to protect me like that while on a leash, now would you?” She smirked, “You we’re ready to fight a man three times your size, and all for me?” You rubbed circles along the back of her free hand, as you chuckled.

“Thank you for loving me so much, Y/N”

“Always.”

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems #principal weems #wednesday weems #larissa x reader #weems #wednsday addams #💍 #WRITERS BLOCK IS A BITCH AND NOT THE GOOD KIND

[adventuresinobx]

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Drew gets home late from a night shoot and desperately tries not to wake you (whilst accidentally doing everything to make a noise).

A/N: Just some cute Drew fluff!!

Warnings: None, nothing, nada, but maybe you’ll fall more in love with Drew after this 😂❤️

Things had been super hectic at work lately for Drew.

He’d been working his ass off to get these last scenes filmed and some reshoots done before production wrapped on the latest series of Outer Banks.

You’d seen how stressed he’d been on his days working - and his days off as the whole crew rushed to get everything done before the shoot had to wrap.

You knew he was struggling so you decided to jet out and see him in Charleston.

He had been on the phone to you every night, telling you how hard it was to get everything done and whilst he loved his job, he found this part the hardest.

So you jetted straight over there to be with him and make sure you could reassure him as much as possible and just support him.

You decided to stay away from set, as to not give him another thing to think about when he was there, but you were adamant you’d be waiting for him in the bed in his rented apartment every single time he came home - whatever time it might be.

Tonight was a particularly late one and it was already two AM when you rolled over to check your phone.

There was a text from him from about half an hour ago.

“Late night again love, see you later. Please go to bed xxxx,” he wrote in the sweet message and you sighed and decided to do what he said.

“Ok baby, be safe,” you texted back.

You turned over and heard your phone beep almost instantly but didn’t bother to check it, knowing it would just be Drew sending a heart emoji.

He never liked to be the one to leave you on read.

***

Adjusting his eyes to the darkness of the apartment, Drew carefully let himself into the place he’d been staying for six months now.

He cursed quietly as he dropped the keys, them making a clang on the floor as he put his bag down and headed over to the fridge to get himself a glass of juice.

He took a large glug from the glass before rinsing it and leaving it by the sink as he headed into the bedroom.

He looked through the door, which was slightly ajar, and smiled at you. You were laid with one leg over the covers, all tangled and wrapped up in the blankets.

You were wearing one of his shirts, which was far too big for you so it draped over you more like a dress.

Your hair was a mess on top of your head and it was blocking his view of your face.

He pushed the door lightly, unable to stop looking at you and how peaceful you were when you were fast asleep.

Knowing the door creaked, he was very careful not to push it too far - but distracted by you, he did and the sound echoed through the apartment.

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered, annoyed at himself and standing still to check if you had woken up.

He was almost like a freeze frame, so still as he even tried to quieten his breathing, scared to wake you up.

Stepping out into the dimly lit hallway, he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Once he was all sorted, he took his shirt off and trousers so he was just in his boxers and headed back into the bedroom, glad the door now didn’t need opening and he could just carefully slide into the room and into bed with you.

He had mastered the art of slipping into bed next to you and wrapping his arms around you so you didn’t even wake up.

It was a skill, but after two years, he had it down to a tee. Well that was until he stepped on something on the floor and outwardly cursed.

“Fuck sake,” he said as quietly as he could but the pain of standing on the plug shocked him and he said it a little louder than he had hoped.

He nearly fell onto the bed but managed to compose himself enough not to do so, if only the wire of your phone charger wasn’t in the way.

He tripped again but levelled himself and breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he stopped himself from falling again.

Finally next to the bed, he climbed in next to you and wrapped his arms instantly around you - the trick he had to stop you from waking up.

“Night beautiful,” he whispered as he planted a soft kiss on your head and closed his own eyes to drift off to sleep.

Expecting silence to fill the room, he was shocked when he heard the words: “Babe, I’ve been awake the whole time, why didn’t you just say hi?”

He rolled away from you slightly, his arms still around you but far enough back from you so he could look at you in the eyes.

“You what?” he said, mentally laughing at everything that had happened. He gave you the look as if to say what did you hear and you were quick to answer.

“Yep, keys, drink, door, when you almost fell,” you said, emphasising the last word.

You looked at him in the eyes trying not to laugh, him doing the same before the two of you burst out in almost hysterics.

No one else would find this that funny, but you two couldn’t stop laughing. When the laughs finally - and naturally subsided - you smiled at him and leant in for a kiss.

He was so warm, his muscly big arms still wrapped around you and his bare chest pressed against you.

He nuzzled his head into your neck and you giggled as you felt the small amount of hair he had on his head for the role rub against your skin.

“Love you,” he whispered, pressing sweet kisses on your neck and collarbone.

He was so gentle and you were completely melting into his arms.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft.

You wanted to ask about work, but you were enjoying this time with him too much and he was so, sweet and gentle with his kisses and the way he had this tight grip around you.

He seemed calm for once and you didn’t want to add to his stress by bringing anything up that would change how he was feeling.

You looked down to kiss his nose and as you leant forward, he grabbed you tighter and squeezed you closer to him, very gently nudging your leg with his so he could slip one of his legs in between yours.

The two of you laid in silence, your fingers drawing shapes and writing stupid little messages on his back whilst he nuzzled into your neck.

Soon, you heard his breathing starting to slow and get deeper and you realised he had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight Drew,” you whispered softly, laying your head down on his as you dozed off to sleep yourself, your bodies still very much intertwined with one another’s.

#drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff #obx fics #obx

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #27)

Happy March everyone!

Chapter #27. Natalie discovers why Alexander has summoned her home so quickly.

Previous: Chapter #26

Next: Chapter #28

Word Count: 5,700 Read Time: Approx. 44 mins

CW: adult language, angst 

Tag list: @gatlily @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien , @thegodmother007 , @honey-olive , @bittykimmy13 , @aceouttatime , @imvenusasaboy , @liminaldaze , @windshield-patent , @joxter-coded , @rosella35 , @narrans , @rubeau-art , @littlescaryinternetguy , @jae-from-discord , @kitn-underfoot , @secretly-small @writing-forever , @iinogongju , @tales-of-aestus-deactivated2023 , @itsgothgirlthyme , @make-me-giant , @reborrowing , @whatthisfemsheplikes

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

___________________________________

A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #27: A Balm for the Mind

[Natalie’s POV]

I tore across my living room, ducked through the kitchen and raced down the short hallway to my bedroom door, before thrusting it open and practically tripping on the corner of my dresser, I finally managed to shove the bathroom door aside. As I pushed at the barrier separating me from the tiny man in my sink, I couldn’t help but feel a catch in my throat as fear trickled down my spine.

“A-Alexander? Are you there? Are you hurt? Are you okay? What was the big emergency? What do you need??” The words were pouring out of my mouth like a dam bursting forth, uncontrollable and overwhelming.

As I whipped around the corner, I heard him before I laid eyes on him. He didn’t miss a beat and the second I started shouting, he matched me with equal fervor, although the poor thing could never hope to match me in volume, “It’s about time, Natalie! Where were you??” That’s when my panicked gaze locked on to those familiar, tiny, blue eyes. There he was perfectly safe; this little life wading in the shallow pool of water in my sink basin. His left knee was bent, and tucked into his chest. His hair was wet, the roots darker than normal, as his locks stuck to his skull in an unkempt way, falling in tendrils into his eyes. He seemed… perfectly fine.

There was no blood, no scene of chaos, no cat, no disturbance of any kind, “Alexander what the fuck?? Is this your sick attempt at a joke?? I almost killed like three people just to get back—“

He cut me off with a hurried gesture before placing his index finger over his lips, and pointing at the ceiling with his other hand. His eyes followed the trajectory of the point. Was this part of the joke? Was he trying to scare me? I opened my mouth to demand an answer when he hurriedly shushed me. I stood there, baffled, utterly confused and beginning to get pretty ticked off, when it happened.

The sound was instantly recognizable: sharp, piercing, blunt. It was the chirp of the smoke detector begging for a battery swap. The disturbance made Alexander’s shoulders twitch as he immediately recoiled, groaning, as if at the end of his rope.

“…. Okay? Is, is that it?” Surely there was something I was missing here.

He leaned forward, rippling the water around him as he raised his brows, an utterly incredulous look on his face, “What do you mean ‘is that it’?? Do you have ears?? It’s grating! Did you not get my texts??—“ he was off on a tangent, but I couldn’t help the steam rising in my ears.

“Alexander!” That was a bit more forceful than I’d intended. He shut up, but flames still burned behind his eyes, “You made me lose my goddamn mind and literally almost murder someone, not to mention the copious traffic violations or the fact that my car is blocking a one way alley right now, because you had to listen to a mildly annoying sound for a few minutes??”

“First of all, Natalie, it started going off almost the moment you left. I’ve been suffering for nearly an hour at this point. Additionally, for both our sakes, I was attempting memory recall in regards to the vet, but that became instantaneously impossible the moment that godforsaken machine started its repetitive screech. I’ve got a splitting headache, I’m dehydrated, the water’s bone-chillingly cold and you forgot to give me any medication before you left on your oh-so-important errands so I am in rather significant pain. So please, please tell me, at the very least, you got the 9 volt battery I asked for and that you’ll save my auditory receptors from any more damage today.”

The poor little man had to shout over every one of those piercing chirps. I furrowed my brow and pouted my lip, “Oh! Oh you poor thing! I didn’t realize! Forty five whole minutes of pure agony, huh?” I placed my hand over my heart in mock concern. He was so absorbed in his own pity party he didn’t even realize I was being sarcastic.

“Yes! Yes!! It was truly awful. I sent an array of messages with detailed instructions…”

“And on top of all that, the water’s all cold and you weren’t even able to relax…”

“Precisely! I’m so glad you see it— wait—“ his eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his chest, “You’re making fun of me aren’t you?”

“The little scholar cracks the case!” I shouldered the door frame, sporting a self-satisfied smile.

The little man rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the sink basin, “Natalie, please, you’ve put me through enough. Don’t pour salt in the wound.”

“I’ve put you—?? Little bastard, how many times do I have to emphasize I almost ran over a little old lady to get back here just for you to be a whiny bitch about a minor inconvenience?!”

“Well you don’t have to be so hyperbolic about it! You’re embarrassing yourself—”

I couldn’t help but raise my brow, “I genuinely wonder, sometimes, wether you can hear yourself speak…”

He sighed, catching my gaze, “The alarm… please. I’m about to jump out of my skin. And… well, I can’t exactly get it myself…” he broke eye contact and craned his neck to the ceiling far above his little frame.

“I should let it chirp all night. All it would take is a pair of earplugs and I’d be blissfully unaware.”

If looks could kill…

For someone who could barely wrap himself around my thumb, he could serve up quite the threatening glare. We locked off for a while, neither of us giving ground.

Finally, I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I let my shoulders drop from my ears. I couldn’t say no to him. If anyone was wrapped up, it was me around his tiny finger. You’re lucky I like you, little nightmare.

I approached the sink, he was still stiff and skeptical, unsure if he’d won this battle. I dipped my hand into the water, which, in his defense, was rather cold, “Come here… let’s get you warmed up…” My thumb moved to cover his chest, while my fingers curled around his back. He opened his mouth to speak, resisting my grip with tiny but determined hands, “… and I’ll get the alarm, just give me a second. I can’t do two things at once…” his lips pressed into a thin line at that. At least he finally shut up for just a second!

The pads of my fingers squeezed around his shivering torso, as I lifted him easily into the air. He gripped the pad of my thumb, wet hair in his eyes. I quickly met the left side of his body with my opposite hand, clutching a washcloth. He hadn’t quite managed a full on thank you, but I heard a little murmur of delight escape his lips when the warmth of my hands and the towel started to thaw him out. I couldn’t help it, even after he’d just pissed me off five seconds ago, I couldn’t keep myself from brushing his hair aside with the tip of my thumb. He could feel my gaze on him and the touch caught his attention enough to look up at me.

At almost the same instant that his clear, blue irises locked with my golden-green ones, his little face flushed with color and he suddenly seemed to find the countertop far beneath his feet to be a significantly more interesting subject to stare at. I, too, felt my temperature rise as I was compelled to work on the alarm and let the little man be by himself for a moment. He said not a word and neither did I. Setting him down in a bundle of fabric on the counter, I clamored up, one foot on the lip of the bathtub, the other on the closed lid of the toilet, “You happy, Your Majesty? I’m finally completing your Royal decree!” I shouted over a chirp which was now very much in my ear and made my head buzz.

He leaned forward, his left shoulder exposed, his palm flat against the cool surface of the countertop. He was watching me intently, “Are you sure that’s the safest way to do that?” Was that concern I heard in his tiny voice?

“Ahh, sure, I’ve done it like this a bunch of times. I don’t own a step-stool and I’m never gonna manage to fit a chair in here so… this is fine…” I turned my attention to fidgeting with the grey plastic circle with its blinking LED light and awful noise making. I managed to pull it from the ceiling with an easy twist and pinch on each side, but as I went to shift my weight to jump down, my foot pressed into the rounded curve of the bathtub, slipped, and I lost my balance.

“Natalie!” A little bundle of fabric jerked forward, arm outstretched. In the next heartbeat, I caught myself, gripping the counter in front of me and stopping my fall. We locked eyes for a moment before I hopped down.

When my feet returned to steady ground, I ripped the dead battery from the inner compartment of the smoke detector. During this, he’d settled back down, his good leg dangling over the cliff’s edge that was the lip of the counter. I placed the now, thankfully, silent hunk of plastic beside the sink and kneeled down, resting my chin in my hands, gazing at the back of a tiny, wet mess of blonde hair. After a few moments of silence, he turned over his shoulder, irritated, “What???”

“Don’t play dumb with me… you know what…”

He immediately turned away again, running fingers through his wet locks, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” he practically mumbled into the fabric. I slid my finger across his sternum, hooking his chin and pulling his face towards me. He was flushed bright pink. I melted a little.

“What was that? You have to speak up…” he shoved at my finger, shaking his head and trying his damndest to hide his blush, I continued, a smile blossoming across my face, “You were worried about me! You give a shit, don’t you? All this stone cold bullshit? It’s an act and I’ve finally caught you red handed. You do have a heart in there after all….” I prodded his little chest, he rocked back and immediately batted at my finger, his brow furrowing and his lips tightening as he snarled. I was unfazed, I had him right where I wanted him, “You actually cared! It was all over your face! You, like, reached out and everything! Little cold-hearted grumpy man cares about this big dumb human!”

“I was not! I… I don’t! Well, I mean— You just frightened me, is all, I-I thought you were going to fall right on top of me!”

*****

She wasn’t letting go of this easily was she? How irritatingly predictable. Humans. They never could resist a chance to tease us if they got the opportunity, it seemed. Her gaze was inescapable, those warm, golden eyes sparkling with mischief. My face and chest felt hot… she beamed as she took in another breath, no doubt to continue this relentless game, when there was a sudden commotion outside.

The sound of a car horn blaring in long, irritating bursts and the voice of a human male shouting something incomprehensible but no doubt, angry, ricocheted through the walls.

“Shit! My car! I’m blocking someone in… hold on, I’ll be right back, okay? Dry yourself off. I’ve got something for you when I come back… even though you kinda don’t deserve it now for being a dramatic little dick a few minutes ago…” She rose as she spoke, crossing the cavern of space between the counter and the threshold in the blink of an eye.

“I was not—“ she disappeared beyond the threshold, paying my response no mind. I heard the jangle of keys being snatched up, as I shouted as loudly as I was capable, “Don’t call me a dick! It’s neither accurate nor sophisticated!” Her footsteps faded down the hall. Alone again.

I sat for a few moments in the blissfully quiet bathroom, my left leg bouncing against the counter’s edge. My better judgment told me not to lean too far over the edge. The drop was much too dangerous for me. I busied myself with wiping the beads of water from my skin. Some so big, I could pick them up in my hands and they’d keep their shape. I squeezed the moisture from my hair and had just about freed my right leg from the suffocating mess of cling wrap it was trapped in, when the tranquil quiet of this cramped, yet cavernous bathroom was broken.

I heard the slam of a car door, sounds of a man’s voice, then, a woman’s, even more argumentative and certainly louder than him. I cracked a smile. What a strange creature that human was. Next was the sound of car tires on gravel, then another honk and I swear I could hear “Fuck you, asshole!” In an enraged female voice. As the sounds of the quick-lived altercation faded from earshot, I pulled the cloth around myself, keenly aware of my nudity in this chilly bathroom. She’d plucked me up, with a sort of familiar nonchalance of picking up a toothbrush or a favorite pencil.

I found myself wondering for the very first time just what she thought of me. What kept her looking after me? I half expected any other human would have tossed me out a long time ago. Why hadn’t she given up? Maybe something really was psychologically wrong with her. It wouldn’t be a giant leap. It would certainly explain her wildly oscillating emotionality.

She’d said she had something for me, right before she left. I couldn’t imagine what that might be. I prayed to nothing in particular that it wasn’t another godforsaken polyester glittery nightmare shirt. Or some similar humiliation. I wouldn’t hesitate for a second to sink my teeth as hard as I could into the softest part of her flesh I could find if that were the case.

Still, it wasn’t possible her errands had been on my behalf, was it? Surely not. I remembered back to the first time I’d stood on this counter, stripped naked, shivering and soaked from a bath, and she’d insisted I wear that unicorn covered tie-dye embarrassment. She’d balked at my request for respectable clothes, then. Now that I thought about it, she hadn’t seemed keen to spend money on me at all. Well, that was out of the question.

So, food then? If so, the timing was right, I was half starved and in need of a round of medication. No more time to ponder, however, because the sounds of a door opening and slamming told me she’d soon stand before me to carry me to the next unknown adventure.

“… Son of a fucking bitch!” Yes, that was Natalie alright, always such… sophisticated… language. I heard the sound of something settling on a surface just outside the door and then there she was, standing…. Well, more like towering, before me. I leaned back on my elbow to see her better, as she blustered, “That guy was such a fucking asshole…” a palm came to rest a few inches from my left side.

“Well, you were committing a traffic violation, weren’t you?? I think he had some justification for responding in a negative—“

“Nope. No. Shut your face. Shut it right now. I’m trying to do something nice for you, don’t say another word or I’ll change my mind.” She hovered a finger over my chest, I scowled, but, nevertheless acquiesced to her desires. I went silent and pressed my lips into a thin line. I never took kindly to being told what to do, but I understood after the smoke detector debacle, I could stand to give her a little ground. She suddenly sighed, as if she’d been holding her breath, “Oh my god! I can’t believe that actually worked! Guilt tripping can really be an effective tool when dealing with an Alexander; noted!”

I rolled my eyes as heavily as I could while her fingers pressed gently into my back and she lifted me off the counter. She balanced my injured leg along the length of her pinky as her thumb pressed the fabric of the washcloth against my sternum. I had to give her credit, she was getting quite good at handling me gently. She hardly ever gave me whiplash from moving me too quickly or bruised my skin with too much pressure between her fingers. My heart didn’t drop to my stomach every time her hands came near. What a relief to my cardiovascular system.

I peered up, seeking some sort of hint as to what was coming next in those bright eyes. I loathed surprises. If a human told you they had a surprise for you, it was often some fresh form of humiliation or torture for their own pathetic amusement. And yet, despite the instinctual alarm bell ringing at the base of my skull, some other part of me dared to believe this was something good. Not a smart move to set yourself up for disappointment, Alexander. Yet, even as I chastised my own train of thought, a glimmer of hope remained. Maybe, just this once, I’d accrued enough karmic positivity or whatever forces of the universe were out there, to get something good coming back to me.

Gingerly, she sat me down on her dresser as she leaned back on the corner of her bed, directly across from me. To my left was some sort of plastic shopping bag, looking bulky and misshapen from the contents inside. I returned my gaze to her eyes, questioning, curious. She beamed down at me, clearly excited, “Okay, okay. Close your eyes—“

“Why? This isn’t some sort of payback for earlier is it?” I crossed my arms.

“No! Just… c’mon just close your eyes!” She groaned and rolled her own.

“I don’t know—“

“Dammit, little man! Let me have this! I’m trying to make this fun,” she leaned in, her chin resting on the silky, wood grain, her fingers closing in to sweep my hair from my face and rest lightly on my exposed, bare shoulder. I felt the heat rising in my chest again, just as it had earlier when she’d held me, “No more grumpy Alexander. Please? Let’s have a good day, okay? You deserve something nice. After all you’ve been through. Trust me. Will you trust me for five seconds?”

I swallowed. She was being genuine, I could tell. She’d gone out of her way, for me? “F-fine. Okay. Yes.” She broke into another sparkling grin, her eyes alight with the giddiness of a child. Her enthusiasm was infectious, I was suddenly abuzz with anticipation.

“Well?” She seemed rather impatient.

“Well, what??” I jumped, wondering if I’d stared at her just a bit too long. Before I had a chance to comprehend the situation further, the pad of an index finger was coming straight for my face, with all its unique swirls on the pad coming into crystal clear focus before blurring as she swiped down from my brow, along the bridge of my nose.

“Close your damn eyes, Alexander!” She giggled, exasperated.

Her touch tickled and warmed me at the same time. It was about the width of my whole head, after all, “Right! Yes! S-sorry.” I sealed my eyes shut as I listened to the rustle of plastic and crinkle of… paper? It sounded like she was unwrapping something.

My heart thrummed against my chest. I didn’t want to come across as some naive little fool, but… I’d never exactly been given presents like this before. Certainly, I’d been given clothing and some necessities but not without earning them first. I’d never been given something for nothing. There was a clatter of the mystery item settling on the dresser top. Something hard, and lightweight, just to my left.

“Ta-da! You can look now…”

When I opened my eyes, I saw two pieces of furniture before me. Closest was a cherry stained, swivel desk chair, with curved armrests and an upholstered seat made of rich, green leather, and just beyond that, a desk, stained the same, with gold pulls on the drawers. I couldn’t quite see the desktop from my downward angle on the floor. But these were unlike any furniture items I’d ever seen: these were scaled to me. I blinked rapidly, swiveling my head between these two objects and the hazel irises that were trained on me. My brow twitched and furrowed.

“Well? What do you think?” She was hungry for my response, her face flushed, eyes wide.

I couldn’t help but shrink back, “You can’t be serious. These… they can’t be for me…”

“You see any other little scholars standing at about five inches around here? Cuz I don’t…” she made ridiculous motions of peering around the room with her outstretched hand shielding her brow.

I couldn’t help cracking a smile before shaking my head, “N-Natalie…”

She wouldn’t even let me finish, before leaning down, “Here, you want a closer look? Come here, test it out for yourself. Let’s see if it gets the Little Nightmare seal of approval. Can I pick you up?”

I nodded slightly, a little dazed as her fingers wrapped around my middle and I found myself settling into the chair. My spine went board-straight as I breathlessly slid my hand across the upholstered, leather surface of the desk. It had a small embossed inlay of diamonds that gave it a beautiful oscillating pattern in the center.

In spite of myself, I felt my throat suddenly tighten as my brow furrowed deeply. I gripped the edge of the desk with all might, staring daggers into its surface until my shoulders started to tremble.

She shuffled close, her left palm cupping around where I sat, “Alexander? Hey…. Hey, what's wrong? Do you hate it? Did I do something wrong? You don’t have to like it, you can be honest with me…”

As I turned to face her, my image of those eyes clouded with worry, was obscured almost entirely with tears I couldn’t hold back, despite my best efforts, “I… I’ve never… I’ve never sat in a chair… before…”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“It’s beautiful, Natalie. It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you. Deeply, truly, thank you. I can really have this?” I’m embarrassed to say my lip trembled.

She smiled as her own eyes grew misty, “Again, do you see any other little men around here to compete with? Let me know if you do… maybe the next one I bring home will be sweeter!”

“I keep you line, that’s more practical than being sweet! You’ll appreciate me in the long run.” I took the much needed reprieve from the heavy moment to quickly wipe my eyes and shake off my emotions. She laughed at that, and groaned.

“You’re nothing if not true to your brand, huh? Well, listen, you can’t get all emotional about every one of these things, cuz I still have a whole bag of goodies for you. If you cry, then I’ll cry and then we will be here all night.” I ran my fingers along the polished wood of the arm rests, tracing its curvature, but what she said broke me from my trance and made me whip my gaze upwards.

“Wait.. there’s more??” I was genuinely baffled.

“Ha! Straight out of an informercial!” She stood to fetch something else from the bag as she spoke.

“An info-what?”

“How the fuck do you know how hydrogen peroxide reacts to tissue but you don’t know what an informercial is?”

I shrugged, “I can’t know everything! I’d become far too powerful for humankind to handle!”

“Little Nightmare, you’re already too much for humankind to handle, that’s why you got stuck with me. I think I must’ve sinned a lot in a past life or something. Okay, what’s next? Ahh, here we go…” she made a sort of trumpet fanfare with her lips before ripping away paper and placing another furniture item down, this time to my right. My heart skipped a beat as I took it in: a bed. It had a simple enough wooden frame and a garish pattern of red and blue flowers dotting the comforter, but it was a proper bed, nonetheless. I could let the eyesore go for now. Wheeling myself over to its edge, careful to keep the heel of my injured leg upright, I hopped from the seat of the chair to the mattress in one fell swoop, still clutching the towel around my otherwise naked body and reclined back, luxuriously.

“I bet you’re delighted. Now you can finally get some sleep in peace without some giant bitch hovering over you or touching you all the time. I know, it’s a dream come true. You’re welcome.” She propped her head up on her hand as she smiled teasingly.

“Natalie, you and I both know this will not deter you from swooping in unnecessarily close to my personal space at all times. I get no reprieve whatsoever.”

“You poor thing. You’re truly in hell, aren’t you? Is it comfortable?”

“Yes, actually. I’d assumed it’d be filled with lumps of polyester judging by the hideous covers, but it’s surprisingly firm and supportive.” Oops, I hadn’t meant to be entirely honest with her…. My mistake.

“Awww, I thought the flowers were cute… oh well. I can sew you something else you like better, later…” for a petulant human, she took my criticism surprisingly well. During the next few minutes she pulled out all sorts of other gifts: a mirror, a wardrobe, towels, my very own toothbrush, a razor, other hygiene products in impressively detailed bottles with fully printed labels that imitated their human counterparts perfectly. I felt a swelling my chest as she showed me item after item. She’d gone above and beyond. I felt utterly spoiled.

Finally, she revealed the last piece to this extraordinary puzzle was new clothes. I could’ve jumped for joy, except, of course, I’d never degrade myself to such a degree. The moment she told me, I could already feel the smart cut of tailored slacks, the comfortable embrace of a woolen waistcoat beneath a fine suit jacket, my collar buttoned all the way and adorned with a perfectly presented tie. I loved the elegance of a fine set of gentleman’s clothes. It may have been the one thing the old man and I could agree on. After all this time of wearing that humiliating smock, which barely managed to cover my manhood, I absolutely craved the comfort and security of three layers of sophisticated fashion. She’d instructed me to close my eyes once again, which I did without resistance, this time. As I sat on the edge of the bed, my right leg propped up in the desk chair, I could feel the heat and movement of her fingers as she presumably placed my new wardrobe next to me on the bedspread. I was beside myself with glee, I couldn’t wait to see what wonderful clothes were lying in wait.

Then, I opened my eyes.

Oh.

What surrounded me were clothes small enough to fit me, yes, but they weren’t at all what I was expecting. I spotted one pair of baggy slacks and and an uninspired sky blue button down but beyond that, it looked like sweatpants, t-shirts and hoodies galore.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Her voice, up above, made me jump.

“Nothing! Nothing at all! They’re— great. Thank you.” I wore a perhaps too-eager smile.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re not getting away with that, little mister. You’re a terrible liar. What’s the problem?” Natalie had no interest in playing games, it seemed.

“It’s fine, really… it’s just…” I tried my best to sell my non-existent enthusiasm.

“It’s just?? What??”

“… I’m just used to something more… sophisticated. I’m most comfortable in a suit. I wore a suit everyday, before…”

She burst out laughing, my face burned hot, “Alexander… you’ve got one working leg at the moment and you’re just going to be sitting around the house for the foreseeable future. What in the flying fuck do you need a full on suit for?”

“You asked! Don’t complain when you get the answer you demanded! Besides, I don’t judge you for dressing in a monotonous variety of barely socially acceptable forms of pajamas everyday, don’t judge me for wanting a little elegance in my appearance! Despite how you found me, I’ve been known to maintain meticulous grooming. Unlike you, I get a sense of pride out of being put together. I just haven’t had much luck of it since you decided it would be just hilarious to dress me up like one of your dolls. I apologize if I’m looking for a bit more class than that nightmare you put me through.”

She threw her hands up, “Jesus fucking Christ, I get it. Well you’ll just have to suffer through wearing this trash until I can afford to get His Majesty what he truly deserves. Mea Fucking culpa. Can you at least languish in these rags for peasants long enough for me to go cook you dinner, Your Highness?”

My stomach dropped. I felt awful. Here she’d done all these wonderful things for me and I’d turned around and coldly insulted her. I swallowed the lump in my throat, “Natalie…”

“No no, save it. You’re right, as always. I got what I asked for.”

“Natalie, please…” I opened my arms wide, beckoning for her. She hesitated, her mouth turned down, her lips tense. I gestured again, “Give me your hand?” She threw her gaze askance and offered me her outstretched fingers. Landing on my good leg, I threw myself off the bed and embraced her pointer finger with both arms, bouncing and wobbling on my left foot as my little weight shifted her hand slightly. She hadn’t expected that, clearly, “I was a dick just now. A terrible, selfish, disgusting, unwashed, detestable, overly dramatic dick—“

A ghost of a smile played on her lips as I craned my neck upwards to catch her gaze, “Ew…” she muttered. I continued, unperturbed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m extraordinarily grateful for all of this. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” With that I laid my cheek on the side of her finger, flashing my eyes up at her through my lashes.

She scrunched her nose, cheeks turning pink, “Stop it! Stop being all cute when I’m mad at you! It’s not fair. You can’t cut me to the fucking quick and then bat those pretty blue eyes at me and have me right back. That’s manipulative! You’re a little master of manipulation, you know that, you little devious bastard??”

Normally, I’d take issue with being called cute, but right now it was working in my favor, “Thank you, sincerely, for everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’m on to you. Put some clothes on and I’ll see you in a minute.” She was smiling, at least a little, now, and that made my shoulders relax. With that, she gingerly lifted me under my arms and placed me back on the edge of the bed, “Oh, wait. You’ll need some help with that leg won’t you?” My inability to bend it would make it impossible to put on underwear or pants, without assistance, “Oh relax, don’t get all huffy, I’m not going to dress you, or anything, here…” In one swift movement, she eased open a shallow center drawer in her dresser and produced a pair of tweezers, just about the length of my leg. They were a perfect grappling arm to extend my reach, “Okay, now I’m outta here. Try to behave yourself for the next 30 minutes, please? I can’t take any more Alexandering all over the place today. You’ve frayed my nerves to their absolute breaking point.” I nodded in earnest, as she stood and headed for the kitchen. I thought about thanking her again, but by the time I got the courage to speak she was already gone behind the partially closed door.

I sat in silence for a moment, looking over the bounty of things that were now mine. My chest swelled. Before I got too emotionally compromised, I turned my attention to getting dressed.

Since my right leg couldn’t bend, I pinched the right side of a pair of navy boxer briefs between the two metal clamps, and held the far end of the tweezers under my arm, this allowed me to reach and slide my ankle through the garment without risking injury. It was the perfect solution and I was deeply relieved to be able to do it myself. I deeply loathed being dressed by clumsy human fingers and it had happened far too often with the overly condescending nurses in the old man’s final years, Thank you, Natalie, for keeping my dignity in tact.

With the aide of the tweezers, I managed to adorn myself with underwear and a pair of unsophisticated charcoal grey sweatpants with only minor strain. I looked about myself, weighing my meager options and decided on a similarly gray hoodie, sighing and sliding it on. Despite the all too casual feel and fit of the fabric, it was nice to finally be covered again. Feeling another pang of guilt for even thinking along those lines, I scooted myself over to the mirror with the aide of the desk chair on wheels. Maybe I’d look better than I felt. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Gripping onto the beveled wooden edge at the base of the mirror, I stood, with imperfect balance as I came face to face with my own reflection.

What I saw staring back at me made my breath catch: printed across the chest of the hoodie in crimson lettering were the words Harvard Law, complete with the shield-like crest of red and gold.

My heart beat faster as tears welled in my eyes. She’d bought me an actual Harvard Law sweatshirt? I clutched a fistful of fabric. Natalie, you’re not so bad after all, are you?

With newfound determination to be less of a dramatic dick (a characterization I still wasn’t convinced was at all applicable) I awaited her return, reclining comfortably on my new bed. Perhaps shutting my eyes for just moment wouldn’t hurt either…. It’d been a rather exhausting day, for both of us, after all.

#do you think Alexander’s emergency was an actual emergency? #look at him learning how to be #they grow and then instantly fall back into the same habit so fast #giant/tiny #g/t #g/t community #g/t writing #g/t related #size difference #g/t angst #gt #g/t fluff #a fraction of justice #oc:alexander #oc: natalie

[lovelywingsart]

//AU// Words Like Bullets

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

Well, everyone wanted the angst next...

This IS actually the 'next' story from what I had planned and the order in which I had everything written! I'm not great with 'baby stories' so those will unfortunately mostly have to come from art...! QuQ""

Anyway... Not the best written because of some irl stuff going on, and this story (and the next one) may or may not have been used to vent some unwanted feelings.

Because what better way to vent than to write angst, right?

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3**

-----

*Warnings?: Hella angst- argument/fighting, speaking before thinking, concerns over child safety, general hurt

Summary: A small decision based off of personal reference leads to damaging words and a big mistake.

The sound of machinery ran in a rhythmic timing, echoing off the walls and providing a constant background. Never once silent, while silently droning all the time. It was the perfect concentration backdrop for Heisenberg, who currently slaved over a Soldat in progress. He worked with the wiring of the battery, only barely taking his eyes off it to make small notes. The output had been off kilter in a few of the more recent ones, and he wasn't sure where the wiring had screwed itself... Taking them apart had given different results, and so this one was the test for all of them. He needed as much concentration as humanly possible as to not shock the hell out of his arm, even with gloves.

He stared at the wires after shifting one of the smaller ones, taking of one of the gloves to set his palm over the reactor itself. He sent small pulses through, mumbling to himself as he used the other hand to note the reactions with every pulse he sent-

Pulses that made absolutely nothing happen except small useless sparks.

He groaned, nearly slamming his hand against the table in frustration after removing the other glove. He hunched over slightly, staring at the battery and chewing on his cheek.

"Piece of shit..." he mumbled through his teeth, tapping his knuckles slightly. Well if THAT didn't work, then what the fuck-

"Papa...??"

A small voice piped up from the near dead silence, scaring him out of his thoughts. He jumped with a startled gasp, whirling around to face what he found to be his son poking his head from around the corner.

"FU-"

He closed his mouth to stop himself quickly, avoiding the full swear before he reached to pinch the bridge of his nose, instead. He took a breath to calm himself as he closed his eyes.

"Adalwulf..." He spoke slowly. "What are you doing in here."

The boy watched him nervously, though slowly came out from behind the corner. He watched his father cautiously, though his bright eyes couldn't help but wander to the somewhat mutilated creature behind him.

"I just wanted to help..."

Heisenberg was silent for a moment, tapping his other fingers against the table. Though he needed to gather himself for a few seconds, he was pushed into motion quickly once he remembered what room they were in. He moved instantly with another sigh, using his body and arms to attempt to block his sons view from the 'disassembled' Soldat.

"Sorry pup, no can do... not this time." He replied, only to be met with a pout as he attempted to herd the boy out.

"But papa...!" He tried, and Heisenberg shook his head as he nudged him carefully around the corner before kneeling to meet his eyes.

"Look, kiddo..." he started, trying his best to think of how to word it. "This, uh... This isn't exactly... a job for a kid." He nodded towards the direction he had come. "Maybe go ask your mom, hm?"

The boys face lowered slightly, his pout turning into a frown. It made his breath catch in his throat.

"... Momma said I can't help either..." he replied quietly, rubbing one of his arms. "She's working with the weird zombie thingies..."

"They're not-" Heisenberg started with a frown, though stopped. He watched as Adalwulf looked back towards the caverns, feeling his own resolve wavering just slightly as if he could feel the disappointment. "Maybe... Maybe another day, ok...?"

Adalwulf looked at him again, hopping slightly before leaning on his fathers upright knee.

"But I'm bored, Papa...!" He said, patting his leg. "You keep saying 'no', but I wanna help...!"

He watched his son, his brows knitting in a mild frustration- but he couldn't help but feel a small knot in his stomach. It almost reminded him of himself, or what he could remember... Always wanting to be involved, but not being able to... Not being allowed to being turned away. But they were busy... Always so busy now, and while it wasn't always a big deal, even he knew when to keep their son away from their work. Even more so, he knew what his mother would think. But even so, the idea of continuously saying 'no' irked him slightly...

"Adalwulf..." he said, but the boy grabbed his arm and hopped slightly again.

"Please??"

Even he had to admit, he slightly panicked.

"It, uh... it's... gross." He managed, trying his best to keep a straight, serious tone. "That's a body in there, kiddo. And, uh... not a great one. Yeah. Pretty gross."

Nice going.

"I don't have to touch it...!"

"But it still... looks bad." He replied again, scrunched his nose as if to add effect to it. "Gross, looks bad... And, uh... lots of... pieces and parts." he tilted his head. "I don't even have gloves for you. Can't have you running around in there without those anyway, hm?"

"PLEASE, Papa...! I'll sit down!" Adalwulf pleaded, now seemingly desperate for a child. "I won't get in the way, I promise...!! Please???"

He stared at him, though quickly let his head fall slightly to rub the back of his neck. Just like him... he was just like him.

... Fuck...

He was silent for a few moments, resulting in a few more 'please'es before he glanced into the room behind him while chewing on the inside of his cheek in heavy debate. The thing was clean... well, mostly. But still... He was only working on the wires in the chest, he didn't even get a CHANCE to work on the joint mechanisms yet, nor would he have gotten to them today without his usual small break to spend time with the kid, anyway... There was no power, no blood, just some oil and grease and a small bit of a smell from the flesh of the corpse he used, though that was avoidable from a distance in the room itself unless he was right up against it...

He finally sighed.

"... You need to promise to stay across the room." He spoke slowly and quietly, as if he was attempting to prevent anyone else from hearing him- though for all he knew, he was. "It is important that you do what I say and watch what I do. I tell you to go, and you go. Quiet, and you stay quiet. Got it, pup?"

He looked up, only to find a grin of pure joy spread along his sons face. It was enough to relax him just slightly.

"Thank you, Papa...!!" He chirped, instantly throwing his arms around his fathers shoulders. Heisenberg jumped for a second, almost stunned by the excitement. Excitement over the idea of working with a corpse, no less... But he managed to regain composure, slowly reaching to return the hug with one arm before patting the boys back.

"Come on then..." he mumbled, moving to stand. "Just, uh... Just brace yourself, pup."

He held out his hand, though couldn't help but chuckle with a small smile as it was instantly grabbed.

"Braced, Papa!" Adalwulf said proudly, standing straight and puffing out his chest- and cheeks- slightly. Heisenberg couldn't help but laugh, slowly returning to the room.

"Ah. You're gonna need a little bit more than that."

~~~~~

Emelia let out a quiet hum as she wandered around the room, picking up some of the books and small toys as Adalwulf crawled into bed. He flopped down with a huff, and she chuckled before going over to him. She pulled the covers over him, raising a brow as he let out a large yawn.

"I see someone had a busy day..." she joked, chuckling again as the boy nodded.

"Yeah, really busy!" He chimed quietly, cuddling into the pillow as his mother smiled.

"And may I ask what's gotten you so tired, my love?" She asked, handing him the small stuffed horse he kept on the nightstand. He pulled it to him with a giggle.

"I played alot!"

"Oh?"

"Mmhm!" He confirmed, patting the horses head. "I climbed some things, and I ran alot, I got to spend time with Papa and he flew me around on his break... And I got to help him! It was fun!!"

She froze. Wait...

"Hold on- That last bit, darling. You... did what?" She asked slowly, her demeanor switching slowly. The boy paused, keeping his eyes on her. He almost seemed to realize the small slip, his smile diminishing just slightly.

"... I... helped Papa...?" He repeated carefully. Emelia stared at him for a moment, her jaw setting before she took a slow breath.

She knew where he was... She knew what he was doing. He shouldn't have even had the door unlocked, much less OPEN, there was no possible way... She didn't want the boy near any of this, how could he-

"... Are you mad at me...?"

Adalwulfs quiet voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she shook her head.

"I... N-No, I..." she took a breath. "No. I'm not mad at you, darling... I can't be mad at you."

She offered a reassuring smile, though it was clearly forced. It was enough to make him shrink into the covers, though she patted them around him with a more genuine one. She pinched his side slightly to make him giggle, letting it ease her mind and calm him down.

"I promise I'm not mad at you." She said quietly, leaning down to press a light kiss to his forehead. "I just want you to be safe... As long as you're safe, it'll be ok... Alright?"

"Yes, Momma..." he replied, finally cuddling down into the pillow as Emelia patted his arm.

"Go to bed for now, love. You've had a... busy day." She spoke carefully, and he nodded with a small smile.

"I love you Momma..."

She smiled.

"I love you too, darling. Sleep well."

~~~~~

Her footsteps were quick down the cavern, filled with purpose as she made her way to the room Heisenberg had been in. He hadn't moved since he sent the boy off to bed, and the swearing made him relatively easy to find. She kept her jaw set until she reached the door. It was closed, of course, and she couldn't help but knock despite opening it anyway. She was met by his gaze as she walked in.

"Hey, Emmy-" he started, though was halted instantly as he saw her face.

Fuck.

"We need to talk." She said, and he felt an unpleasant shiver down his spine. He paused his movements, only turning his head to look at her with confusion.

"About... what?" He asked slowly, though he was sure he already knew the answer as she leaned against the table with her gaze at the ground. She was silent for a moment, making him fidget until she finally spoke.

"What was our agreement with him." She asked quietly, and he twitched. "What did we both say when I was pregnant with him. Months before he was even born."

He frowned.

"Emmy-"

"We agreed he wouldn't be part of this." She stated simply, cutting him off. He sighed.

"He isn't part of this-"

He stopped again as she reached and tapped on the table before nodding at the door.

"You think he wouldn't tell me?" She said quietly, and he felt anxiety rise to his chest. He was silent for a moment, setting down the tools he held.

"He didn't touch it." He said quietly, his eyes moving back to the small motor on the table. "He didn't even get near it, he just sat across the room and handed me tools, that's all-"

"That's still helping, Karl!" She said, finally looking at him. "That is still letting him be a part of it!"

"So handing me tools is a crime now?" His voice grew defensive. "He always hands me tools, you can't possibly-"

"You let him in with one of those!!"

"The damn thing wasn't even functional! It's still not, I haven't even gotten the right mechanisms-"

"That still puts him in danger you daft idiot!!!"

She turned to him fully now, and he did the same. His nose scrunched slightly as she bared her teeth.

"It's not like I couldn't have stopped the fucking thing if it moved!" He replied, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing to the door. "He was safe, Emelia! It didn't even have a full battery for any voltage other than mine to-"

"That's not the bloody point, Heisenberg!!" She snapped.

"Then what is the point??" He said, holding out his arms. "Christ, I'm sorry for letting him hand me some fucking tools in one of the experiment rooms! Is that better??"

Her jaw nearly dropped in mild astonishment.

"Wh-" she tried. "I- No!! Its not!!!"

"Then what the hell do you-"

"I don't give a damn if he hands you tools, Karl!" She gestured to the reactor on the table. "He was in there with one of them. He assisted you with one of them, not a regular bloody machine!! Do you have any idea what that could cause for him?!"

"If he was scared, he would have told me!" He shot back. "I didn't keep him in there, he could have left if he wanted! I'm not fucking up his head by forcing him to look at a dead body Emelia, he made that choice himself!"

"And you made the choice to let him in." Emelia hissed, and Heisenberg flinched into a momentary silence. But he didn't stay quiet for long, suddenly curling his lip into a light snarl.

"He just wanted to be involved." He growled. "He just wanted to help. He didn't even want to DO anything, he just wanted attention after you told him no!!"

It was her turn to flinch, responding with her own snarl.

"I only said 'no' thanks to those bloody creatures! Had they not been around, I wouldn't have minded!"

"Then get them to leave!"

"You think they listen to me?!" She growled. "They would rather run headfirst into their own bloody pickaxes before those damn devices work!!"

"Then fucking ask me!!!"

"How the bloody fuck can I ask you when all you do is act like an ass if I so much as ask you to control one of them?!" She gestured to the door again. "They would have wandered back anyway! You've programmed them that way!!"

"He knows to stay away from them anyway Emelia, he's SEEN them from a fucking distance. YOU were the one with that fantastic fucking idea." He growled, suddenly turning back to the battery. "He was fine. He didn't touch anything, he didn't say anything, only asked questions and handed me tools from a distance. It's fine."

"It is not FINE, Karl!!!" She snapped. "God forbid she ever finds out about any of this-"

She stopped with an irritated huff as he suddenly turned to glare at her, his shoulders visibly tensing.

"That bitch won't fucking find any of it. You know DAMN well not to even suggest that-"

"And yet you endanger him more than he already was by mere existence in letting him in with one of them." She snarled, and his nose scrunched with anger again.

"She won't find out." He snarled as well, suddenly leaning towards her. "She won't find him. There's no goddamn reason to make such a big fucking deal out of something that DOESNT MATTER!"

His voice raised with the last few words, making her jerk back slightly. But she didn't back off- instead, she stood her ground, getting back in his face.

"It does matter." She spoke through her teeth, feeling her arm twitch slightly. He noticed it too, his gaze flicking to her shoulder for a split second before looking back. She continued.

"It absolutely matters, Karl. He's already afraid of her. He already knows the danger he's in. He knows what the Soldats are for and he knows damn well why you slave over them and we know what will happen IF SHE FINDS OUT HE HELPED YOU WITH THEM!!!"

"SHE WON'T FUCKING FIND OUT!!!!" he yelled back suddenly, but this time she didn't flinch. He gestured again to the battery and then the door, his teeth bared and eyes bright. "She. Will. Not. Find. Out. Emelia. She will never find out. I will make sure she never fucking finds out."

He was bristling now, and she knew- but so was she.

"I don't want him around them. You know that." She snarled, "You know I don't want him near them. I don't want him to help with them, I don't want him to see them, he shouldn't have to see them, and I don't want him BLOODY INVOLVED WITH THEM!!!"

"Christ- I'm fucking sorry, alright?!" He finally said, his frustration evident. "I'm sorry I let him in. I'm sorry I didn't fucking shut him out like you want me to do. I'm sorry he's a fucking kid who just wants some kind of fucking freedom in this hellhole. I can't fucking apologize enough apparently, so let it go."

"I can't 'let it go' you insufferable-"

"WHY?!" he threw his arm out towards the door. "Why the fuck do you care so much, huh?! It was only one fucking time, Emelia!! What the fuck is stopping you from accepting that?!"

"Because I-" she started, staking her hands slightly in a mildly distressed manor. It was then her lip curled into a snarl, and she opened her mouth.

"BECAUSE I DONT WANT HIM TO BE LIKE YOU!!!!" She nearly screamed suddenly, her voice ringing off the walls.

The following silence was as if everything had halted, and she only realized what she had said after a few seconds. She suddenly looked up at him with heavy breaths, an instant nauseating regret eating at her chest as she saw his face; His eyes were wide, his jaw nearly dropped as he stared at her, only to take a hesitant step back. His face twisted into a look of insult, though the emotion held second to what she quickly realized was a deep hurt- ... no.

It was close to betrayal.

"... what?"

His own voice came as a mere whisper, and she flinched. It was only when his shoulders began to tremble that she moved, slowly taking a step forward.

"Karl, I-" she tried, her voice quiet. "I didn't mean-"

She reached out to him, only to jump as he flinched away. His eyes flicked down to her hand for a split second before meeting her gaze again, his expression twisting from that of betrayal to what could have counted as a controlled rage. He took a deep breath, and she swallowed hard as she watched his muscles flex and shake. She didn't even have to look to know that the metal pieces around them shook, and she tried once more to reach for him.

"Karl, please-"

Another flinch from him made her pause, and suddenly he raised his chin with watering eyes. His bottom lip trembled for a moment before he set his jaw and suddenly turned away, his quick, brisk steps towards the door to the hall sounding like thunder in the machinery filled silence of the room.

"KARL-"

The door behind him slammed with his power, cutting her off one final time. She jumped at the sound, letting out a gasping yelp at the force- but froze once more as she heard another sound. It was only a small sound from the corner behind her that she wouldn't have heard had she not been straining her ears for his footsteps-

A whimper.

She whirled around with her breath caught in her chest, her own wide eye locking gaze with the now teary bright eyes of their son. A cold chill of she could have only described as fear ran down her spine.

How much did he see...

How much had he heard?

"Adalwulf-" she started, taking a step towards him with concern in her voice, though she was stopped as he suddenly turned heel and ran.

And so she was left alone, listening to the small, quick footsteps fade into the rhythmic humming of machinery. The feeling in her chest grew as she looked back at the door Heisenberg had gone through, her own shoulders shaking with shallow, wavering breaths.

No...

Nonono...

She just...

She didn't...

She couldn't help but fall back against the table as her knees went weak, holding onto it to keep balance as the feeling of an insane regret hit her like a hammer to the chest.

She shouldn't have said it... She shouldn't have said anything. She should have just left it alone, but she couldn't. She didn't.

She soon let herself slide to the floor, feeling the sting of tears in her eye that she forced back. Both father and son had run in opposite ways, both ways away from her.

Oh, she fucked up.

#Metalworks Survival AU #Metalworks fanfiction #oc #resident evil #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil oc #resident evil village oc #re8 oc #karl heisenberg #heisenberg #lord heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #karl heisenberg x oc #heisenberg x oc kid #karl heisenberg x oc kid #heisenberg x oc fanfiction #karl heisenberg x oc fanfiction #heisenberg kid #heisenkid #re8 fanfiction #resident evil village fanfiction #lovelywingsart #lovelywingsocs

[skygal-178]

IMOGEN & LAUDNA ORIGINS

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A story of two complete strangers and the strong bond that blossoms between them!

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-------------------------------------------------- art by @shadydruid characters by laura bailey and marisha ray from @criticalrole

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It’s a sunny day in Galveen. Imogen and her father are on their way back to stables, they pass by a group of townsfolk surrounding this young ‘witchy’ looking woman in the centre of the market round. They’re harassing her, yelling nonsense toward her. “YOU’RE NOT WELCOME HERE WITCH!” One of them yells at her. And for just a split second Imogen sees herself in her place. It’s only gonna be a matter of time before I lose control, and they’ll turn on me. “Imogen!” Her father snaps her out of it. She turns to him, and without saying a word she follows.

Arrived at the stables, she wasn’t able to let it go. That women on her mind the whole way back. Her father brings the horse feed to the storage shack, while Imogen quickly starts tacking up Flora. And she heads off, back into town.

There she finds the same sight she had passed earlier, only now the townsfolk are coming at her with pitchforks and torches. Getting a better look at the woman this time around. Her skin is pale and almost doll-like. She has long, thin, dark hair with a shock of white through her bangs, pulled up in a half-up bun with a rock chisel. She wears tattered clothes, including a dark red blouse and a black skirt, with various tools hanging from her belt. “HEY! LEAVE HER ALONE!” Imogen yells from the top of her lungs as she gallops their way. All of their heads turn as Imogen stops right in between the folk and the girl who had been pushed back onto the ground. “And who are you to stop us?!” A man shouts from the crowd. A moment of murmurs passes before an older woman replies. “Your Temult’s daughter, right?!” She pauses, giving Imogen a harsh glare. “Figures we’d see you here, Temult. Two witches working together!” She adds, stepping up right to the horse. Without any hesitation, Imogen reaches out her hand releasing a bright bolt of crackling purple energy right in the middle of the crowd. The blast pushing outward, and any folk in the way along with it. This gives Imogen just enough time to turn to the woman, who has now gotten back on her feet. “Get on, quickly! Where do you live?” Imogen asks frantically, holding out her hand for help. Confused and with the lightest hint of distrust, she takes Imogen’s hand and climbs up sitting behind Imogen. “Uhhh.. in the woods. That way.” She points toward to woods on the east side of town. And so Imogen steers Flora in that direction, the same one she came from.

Seeing one of the towns folk running in their direction with a flaming torch ready to throw it, the woman in the back looks over in this guy's direction. Giving him a big smile, as this black liquid starts running from her eyes and nostrils. “Waaaghh!” She exclaims in a sort of whispered scream reaching her clawed hands towards this guy, who instantly stiffens up in fear and runs the other way. On their way across the market round, the older woman from earlier is making her way to block their path. Imogen immediately reaches out her mind, her face showing determination. “Why don’t you just leave us alone?!” She whispers towards her. The woman stops dead in her tracks and scurries away from the ladies as far as she can, her hands covering her ears in pain. Spotting a cluster of folk by the passage they must go through, the woman reaches out her hands and whispers a quiet incantation, as a burst of black smokey energy erupts from her hand. Hitting the side of the building to their left, some of the brick breaks off and the cluster spreads out in shock of the sudden blast right next to them. Imogen leads Flora through the passage and straight into the woods, not slowing down just yet.

A couple miles into the woods, Flora slows down at a slight pull on the reins from Imogen as they approach a small cabin. The stranger she had just rescued gets off of the horse’s back before Imogen gets off herself. Taking the reins and leading Flora toward the cabin. “This is so nice. It’s so quiet and peaceful here.” Imogen takes in the silence inside her head at the moment, able to relax for what feels like the first time ever. “It’s pretty great.” The woman states, walking over to the front door and opening it. Waiting for Imogen to follow her inside. “Uhhm.. Do you want a cup of tea? Or.. well.. I only have tea actually.. I’m sorry.. Also thank you, for helping back there. You really didn’t have to.” “Oh yeah.. well I wasn’t gonna just leave you be.. The townsfolk can be very.. opinionated..” The woman fills two stone mugs with hot tea from her kettle hanging over the hearth. “Here you go.” She hands Imogen a mug and sits down on the chair beside her. “Uhh..” The woman turns to face Imogen. “Hi, my name is Laudna.” She reaches out her hand, introducing herself. A bit taken aback by the sudden introduction, Imogen takes Laudna’s hand. “Imogen, it’s nice to meet you.” I big smile forms on Laudna’s face, receiving a shy one from Imogen in return.

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next chapter

#critical role #imogen temult #laudna #bells hells #origin story #shadydruid #fanfiction

[lady-assnali]

Rosé teaches choir and drama. Denali teaches art. There’s drama with two of Rosé’s golden students. Of course she asks Denali for help.

“I’m not fixing this for you.” Denali comes sauntering into Rose’s classroom after third block shaking her head. Behind the air of dramatic irritation is a soft, teasing grin. She’s fiddling with the ties of the paint-smeared apron, pencil skirt and sheer sleeved lavender top spotless underneath. A few straggling students wave to her as they pass and she smiles politely, waiting for the last of them to shuffle out the door before glaring at her friend. Denali’s email had been flooded with flowery messages all morning long, their coded language letting her know through the school slack server that two of Rose’s favorite students had been giving each other the cold shoulder all morning.

               Rose is devastated, and very clearly frustrated by this latest development. They’d been letting the group down, and Denali had gotten vocal evidence of the fact during the group’s second block rehearsal earlier in the day.

Sorry, an email had read just minutes after a train wreck run-through of a Christmas song Denali hoped she’d never hear again. This is ridiculous. How do you get high schoolers to understand show business? You know how many people at the bar I’ve argued with?

That’s why I teach an individually ranked sport. Denali swings back. My Aries ass could never handle all of these egos. Get with it or go home, honestly.

She’d been attempting to bring out the fun side of her nervous baby freshman during their still-life unit, putting on a lofi mix of top 40s and letting the kids arrange their own tableaus of random assorted objects from her still packed apartment. Their moments of quiet chatter had been joined by the absolute misfire of Rose’s honors choir, those whom Denali had grown quite fond of listening to. Today, she’d had to shut her door to block out the dissonance. Of course Rose had noticed.

“I’m not asking you to fix the problem, I’m just asking you to do your job.”

Denali lets a puff of air from her nose as she scoffs, shaking her head.

“And where exactly in my job description do you think you’ll find the words snoop or tattle tale?”

“Baby, it’s right next to where you signed on to be the closest friend I have here. Also included in that column is the clause where you get an incredible opportunity to discover the piping hot tea that can happen between two high school girls with incredible talent and the naivety of feeling young and limitless.”

The blonde leans over a bit more at this, shifts her weight onto one heel-clad foot. Propping her head on one hand, a smirk and a pair of glimmering eyes bring the dimples out to play. She makes a game of withholding her answer although both know she’ll say yes; it’s a little harmless eavesdropping, maybe pairing the two up for projects or critiques to better understand their dynamic. And Rose is right-they’ll need to work together if they want the show to come off without a hitch.

“I have them both in my next class. We’re working on architectural blueprints this week.”

Rose raises an eyebrow, turns her head slightly, and Denali instantly translates.

“Funny how the fate of a random generator put them at the same table for collaborative conversation this week, isn’t it? You want the gossip on our thread, or,”

“-Oh no, you’ll be seeing me turn the corner the second the bell rings. Maybe I can even let the intro drama class do some light improv while I sneak my way over…”

“Nope, no way. You will not interrupt my class today. You can wait.” The bell rings then, pulling the pair back to reality as the hallway begins to fill with noise once again. Denali pushes herself off of the piano, pulling a serious face before walking by Rose’s desk, snatching from it a red pen that she twirls between her fingers. One last look leaves her with the image of her friend wiggling her fingers from the piano bench before winking with a mischievously crooked smile.

“We’ll see about that.” 

#rosenali #also sorry #i haven't written fic in god knows how long and forget everything about posting on this website #but rosenali has me in a death grip right now so i figured i'd burn some energy writing a senseless teacher au that won't leave my head

[jessicajagg]

King of Fighters: Maximum Impact (2004) PS2 Review

SNK was in a weird spot during the early 2000s. Their contemporaries had shifted nearly all of their focus on 3D games made to be played at the home but SNK continued to produce their coin-op titles for a dwindling arcade industry.

In an era where arcade games were largely released in collections, SNK put out single game home conversions with little to no extra features while Neo Geo emulation became more prevent online.

None of this is to say SNK's output at this time was lackluster. Metal Slug, Garou, Samurai Shodown and King of Fighters continually pushed the standards for pixel art, still looking gorgeous to this day. But the market trends had shifted and without a digital market place to sell shorter arcade games they had trouble finding an audience outside of hardcore enthusiasts. Hence in 2004, rather than another yearly entry of KOF we would receive a 3D spin-off "King of Fighters: Maximum Impact"

Maximum Impact ditches the staple team battle system for a traditional 1 on 1 bouts. Team battles are only available in versus mode and have loading screens inbetween each round. The game still mainly takes place on a 2D plane with the only 3D manuver being a side-step that I personally didn't find particularly useful. What is incredibly useful are the 'body slams'. Simply hold forward or back while mashing punch or kick and you'll perform a little combo string, no doubt a mechanic implemented to help newcomers but it can go boths ways and you can easily find yourself cornered.

Which brings me to the most frustrating aspect of this game, the final boss Duke. Now we all know and accept SNK final bosses are bullshit but Duke has to be the cheapest and most uncreative version of an SNK boss. Duke has an aoe super that will drain more than 80% of your life in a single hit. He can activate it instantly and unless you hit him just before it activates he has super armor, meaning most of the time if you press a button he can just activate his super and get you. Said super also breaks your guard when you block it, can't be jumped over and because Duke has infinite meter he can just spam it over and over again.

But the thing about Duke is that it's also insanely easy to break the fight if your character has a good jump kick. I've had fights last between 1 minute to an hour entirely depending on my characters ability to bullshit their way through the fight.

The game features 20 characters, 6 of them being original. The story sees two lead characters, brothers Alba and Soiree take on the KOF Tournament to wrestle control of Southtown from the aforementioned Duke and avenge their friend Fate. If you play as anyone else you basically get the same intro and outro cutscenes for everyone with minor dialouge changes.

The original character designs are rather hit or miss. The only real stand out is the disciple of Kim Kaphwan 'Chae Lim'. The others range from unremarkable to bland, it's not surprising alot of them haven't made any return appearances.

The game does however feature some stellar alternate costumes and models for each character. Some of which are so good, you have to wonder why it isn't the default. The alternate costumes for Mai and Yuri in particular are ones I'd love to see make a comeback.

The visuals while they don't match the visual splendor you'd see in the previous years KOF 2003 or Namco's 3D fighters of the time they get the job done. The music doesn't quite hit the mark but there are a few standout tracks. The english voice acting however is hilariously horrendous as nearly the entire original KOF cast are given voices that don't match the characters at all. The voice acting was the biggest point of contention from reviewers of the time, so much so that the Xbox port gave the option to swap to the Japanese.

Maximum Impact for all it's faults is a fascinating time capsule of the times and SNK's efforts to break into the mainstream. The game was successful enough to see a sequel 2 years later that would greatly expand on the foundation this game laid out.

#playstation #6th generation #playstation 2 #ps2 #SNK #KOF #King of Fighters #KOF Maximum Impact #fighting games #arcade

[frostbite-the-bat]

(DREAM JOURNAL ENTRY COPIED FROM DISCORD, WON'T EDIT IT, BUT IT WAS ADDRESSED TO RANDY)

there was a whole like… weird house i could climb into? it was very roblox-y and made out of white "blocks" and if i stepped 'out' the wind pushed me hard and i'd fall down and need to climb again

but once i was inside i could see the interior, it being bigger on the inside than it is on the outside like in a game where it was completely safe and i could see various rooms

i forgot what the goal or objective was (getting to the top?), but i remember my friend and i in the dream had to team up with some little gamer kid in one of the rooms who wasn't being exactly helpful, and we had to negotiate to get help or anything from him. he wasn't unwilling just wanted a lot compensation…?

then suddenly, i'm at a store with my mom, and she's picking up mlp toys. like really big ones, she needed my help and the worker's help to get it throught the door. she was getting it for someone's kid and the whole time i am thinking "those really aren't popular characters the kid may not like these…" but i didn't say shit

then we're back by the weird robloxy building with mom, and it's in the middle of the city where i live, near where my middle school would be. except the way home was longer and nearby was a big foresty park with a lake.

we think OH FUCK WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!! so we run to the bus stop and see it flodding with people. the line finally ends and we were about to enter the bus, but the bus guy closes the doors in front of us because the bus was full my mom instantly points and bolts us to a different direction and so we RUN. we try to take a shortcut to outrun the bus, which we believed that "by the next bus stop some people may leave and we get a spot"

but we just COULDN'T outrun it. we then see the lake and that it could be a shortcut and we jump in it. i wasn't the biggest fan of the plan thinking MOM R U CRAZY!!! and i swim with my back up weirdly, as i thought i had a backpack full of things i did NOT want soaked. (electronics, art stuff…)

but i then leave the lake early and notice I DONT HAVE A BACKPACKS. MOM. WE FORGOT BOTH OUR FUCKING BACKPACKS.

and NOW FINALLY, YOU COME IN

now i was in some… random building after…? i walk through it and then it begins resembliNg a mix of a mall with escalators and the buildings in lawbot hq. (the one where you go into lawfices) i see some familiar faces there, and suddenly i guess i am multitooning, but also not. i try to teleport my toons together, but i accidentally teleport to you.

then the dream pauses and gives me some like.. pup carrying sequence? it goes wolf quest mode? i like had a mate and then suddenly on a light blue page there's 8 pups and i had to move them with a cursor quickly into bed "containers" where they could rest. it then goes back and we're talking and i go "oh my god you reminded me that i got like 8 pups in wolf quest"

and you go like Wow that's crazy

and then i like walk around more and since it's toontown im like "wait. High Roller" and i think the thought of high roller woke me up. now i'm here!

added note: i finally didn't wake up as much as previously... like i still woke up maybe once or twice but it wasn't as prominent...? still got me to wake up and get up early, so i am unsure if it's me waking up constantly or me sleeping a bit less that's left me tired. since april 1st i just kinda stay up on toontown until i'm kinda ready to pass out. i think i was drawing today before i actually passed out, though, i was falling asleep during it and konked out around 3-4 ish am...? that'd leave me with less sleep. trying to figure out how the fuck i sleep is interesting for sure

#guzma's dream journal #long

[goombasa]

Getting Past My Own Terror When Trying New Things

So over the last couple of years, i've been trying several new hobbies.

A lot of them I ended up dropping not long after starting them, much to my shame.

Now I'm back to at least dabbling in a lot of them, chiefly trying to learn digital art (both vector and raster), dabbling in game design, and fiddling around with some DAWs and banging out some simple tunes. If I had the space, I would love to drag out my fabric scraps and take another go at sewing again. I've dropped and picked up all these different hobbies on and off again for like a decade, ever since leaving college, but I just never could keep up with them. I've pondered on why for a while. A part of it might just be me. I do have difficulty focusing on things from moment to moment, but I think it's something a bit deeper than that: I think it's because I'm terrified of failure, and that terror is really hard to get over.

I compare something like drawing, something that I've only really attempted to do since leaving college, and writing, something that I've been doing constantly since middle school. At this point, writing feels like second nature to me. It's something that I've trained since very early in my life, to the point where I don't even see it as a skill anymore, it's just a part of me, something that I do. Drawing though, I haven't done any serious attempts at art since I was required to back when I was in school. I didn't really do it beyond those required art classes, and only took an interest in trying to learn it after my time in the education system was over, and now, when I try to work on it, I'm easily frustrated by the fact that progress is slow. I get intimidated and frustrated, and not long after that, I end up putting it down and not touching it again for months on end until I muster up the courage to try again. As you can imagine, this hasn't led to me making much progress.

And therein lies the issue; I want to make progress, I want to get better, and create something I feel more comfortable with sharing with other people. But I'm terrified. I know I shouldn't be, but I am. Recently, I've taken to trying very, very hard to push past that terror, that mental block that keeps telling me that, due to the fact that I'm not instantly good at it and immediately making progress, that must mean I'll never get better at it and therefore should just quit while I'm ahead. It's an incredibly toxic mindset to have about myself and my own abilities, but no matter how many times I'm reminded that things like drawing are skills that need to be trained and fostered over long periods of time, my mind works against me to tell me that if I'm not making masterpieces after a month of taking a handful of free courses on Youtube, well then, obviously I'm never going to be good at it and I should stop trying.

I've mostly forgotten one of the most important parts of trying something new, especially if it's mostly just supposed to be for a hobby and not a professional skill, at least not in the near future: have fun with it. And that's something that I've been trying hard to force into my skull at this point. I shouldn't be forcing myself to learn a new skill if I'm not going to enjoy it. I want to learn to draw because I want to create in a new way, something that's unfamiliar to me. I shouldn't worry about whether it is good or not, I shouldn't worry about what other people think of it, but years of being exposed to the idea that if it isn't good enough to sell then it isn't good enough to show has made me very self conscious of my own creations. It's a bad time.

But I think this finally might be receding. I first noticed when I stopped constantly posting to youtube, putting out videos quickly in order to try and keep my channel relevant, that I just felt better. When I started to work on videos at my own pace, just work on them when I feel like it, no matter how shoddy they were, I felt happier with the end result because I didn't feel compelled to make them out of obligation or worry. I was having fun making things again.

And I have to apply that same sort of mentality to my new hobbies if I want to keep making progress. I want to get better, for my own satisfaction.

I'm curious if anyone else out there has had a similar sort of epiphany about their own hobbies. Have you experienced that feeling of just not feeling like you're progressing fast enough, or at all, even when you're new at something. Please, let me know, how'd you get over that hurdle, how'd you get past your own personal mind games and just enjoy the stuff that you do, the stuff that you make. I'm very interested to hear how others deal with this phenomenon.

#I used to think I was just lazy #But no #turns out I'm just terrified of failure #I'm doing my best to get over it #It's tough #but it's important #Try new things #Make something new #Test your limits

[wack-ashimself]

Me from 10 years ago just got me reported on facebook. I swear to God this just happened.

Okay, I just had one of the most surreal experiences ever. Basically the new John Hamm movie looks terrible. I don't think he has the comedic talent. Honestly, comedy is harder than drama. Few people will say it but I will. Anyways, I made myself a promise almost any time Facebook shows me an ad that I hate, I will troll the fuck out of that page. I will tear it down if I have to. Guess what they showed me? His new fucking movie which I already know is terrible. Seriously if anybody sees it and says it's funny, I'm going to need your top five funniest comedies immediately, so I know if you're actually genuine or stupid. Either way some guy basically started sticking up for John hamm, like instantly. Turns out to be some actor that worked with him on that specific movie. Aka he only gained if the movie suceeded*. It was like talking to myself when I lived in Hollywood 10 years ago. I almost knew what he was going to say most of the time... it was freaky. And to be honest I think the guy is actually older than me but I don't know. I confronted him a bunch of times till he openly said he was a sellout. Saying there is no bad art. Which is totally something I would have stupidly said 10 years ago. So I pushed him with the reason I left hollywood. Is what you're doing going to be remembered and going to change the world forever in a good way? He completely refused to answer. Which again is something I would have done back then too. And I'm not talking shit about this guy. Cuz I totally understand where he's coming from. Completely. Probably even more than he knows. It's just weird. I've never met somebody who was so much like me that I got to have such an in-depth conversation with. It's unsettling if I am honest. It makes me realize how stupid and naive I was. Cuz I was. I went out there like a simpleton. I came back from their scarred, but smarter and stronger. And that's all life should be. Ways to make you a better person. Everything else is in the wash.

... and he reported me (while I was originally typing this). Lmfao. What I would have done 10 years ago. It's uncanny!!!

Ps just because you worked with somebody and they were nice doesn't mean what you worked on had any meaning. John hamm could be the best person on the planet, doesn't mean he didn't make a terrible fucking movie. It's not like he wrote it. If he did then he's double guilty LOL

Pps what did he report me on? Cuz I wasn't being prolific. He said that there is no such thing as bad art. And I said please research all dictators and oligarchs starting with Hitler and get back to me with that. Literally cuz of the word Hitler got me blocked. On an ad Facebook showed me. I could not write anything this fucking bizarre.

*so after I got blocked, I went to his profile before I blocked him (cuz FUCK him). The most vain profile I think I have seen in a LONG time. THREE, not one, THREE different posts of a stock market-like graph showing how well the movie was doing. Holy shit...like, swear to you on my soul, I PITY this guy. I don't like pitying people, but it's one of those 'that was me, and I had to learn the hard way too...' I just didn't want him to go thru what I did. He will....they all do. Either you change the world or it changes you.

#fedbook #facebook #hitler #me #hollywood #jon hamm #jonhamm #fletch #comedy