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bitchassbucky · 3 years

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.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff

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cleanlenins · 3 years

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Ectober Day 6: Witching Hour

Words Spoken at the Witching Hour

Chapter 2

Jack and Maddie disproved Ouija boards in College, but why not give them another try? However, fixing their mistakes will take more than just an old board and some candles.

AO3

While her violent outburst had been cathartic, Maddie was regretting her rash decision to destroy the ancient spirit board. She sifted through the ashes, pulling larger pieces of charred wood from the pile and dumping them into the bin. Her gloves were covered in soot and charcoal, the dusty particles sliding over the rubbery texture. She grabbed the planchet, and examined it. The dark ash seemed grey next to the impossible black of the little cursor. She clenched her fist around it and started to toss it into the trash can. But hesitated.

“Mom? Oh my God, what happened here?” Maddie whipped around to see Jazz standing at the door to the kitchen. She had one hand covering her mouth as she gaped at the mess. The table, while still standing, had a huge whole burned into the center. Maddie knew that she must look a sight as well, eyes puffy and red from lack of sleep and soot stains on her cheek.

“We had a bit of an accident with our experiment last night,” Maddie said smoothly. It was what she and Jack had decided to tell the kids until they had a chance to sort through their thoughts. Before they had a chance to figure out if there was any validity to Phantom’s claim.

When Maddie had bought the spirit board, the lady had told her that spirits could not lie while communicating through the object. Maddie had never expected the blasted thing to work, so she hadn’t set up any more trustworthy methods for determining if a ghost was lying or not. An oversight on her part based on her own hubris.

“I thought you guys agreed that you would keep all of your experiments in the lab from now on?” Jazz crossed her arms.

“I’m sorry sweetie. We didn’t realize it was something that would turn...explosive. We will be sure to keep things downstairs from now on,” Maddie assured Jazz. Jazz looked skeptical, but did not press the point. Instead, she skirted around the stains on the linoleum and began to make her some breakfast. Maddie glanced at the planchet still held in her hand, and stashed it in her pocket.

Maddie removed her gloves and tossed them in the special tub she and Jack kept for their hazmat suits. She quickly washed her hands before putting on a clean pair. She rubbed her tired eyes, moving around Jazz to get to the coffee pot. How did she get through so many sleepless nights in college? She already felt dead on her feet. She must be getting old.

She reached to flick on the coffee pot, before jerking away as the coffee pot shocked her. Not hard, nothing more than simple static electricity. But it startled her.

“Mom? Are you okay?” Jazz asked.

“Fine, Jazzy,” Maddie stared at the machine in shock and reached out to touch it again. No shock occurred. “I think I might need to change the filtrator in the coffee machine battery. It just shocked me a bit.”

“Through rubber gloves?” Jazz raised an eyebrow. Maddie’s mind buffered, looking down at her hands.

“Maybe a more serious issue,” Maddie muttered. Jazz sighed.

“And I was really looking forward to coffee,” The teen slumped, still scrambling eggs. Loud steps were coming from the stairs, and Maddie turned to see Danny walking into the kitchen.

Well, walking probably wasn’t the best word. He was slumped over, backpack hanging from one shoulder. His eyes were rimmed in red and heavy bags laid under his eyes. He slumped into a dining chair, not even commenting on the hole in the table before laying his head in his hands.

“Danny, are you okay?” Jazz asked. Mother and Daughter wore matching looks of concern. The black haired teenager mumbled something incomprehensible. Maddie hesitantly walked over, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He was freezing. Cold enough that she could feel his temperature even through the thick gloves. Maddie swallowed thickly.

“Honey, did you not sleep well?” Maddie asked. Danny sat up, blearily looking up at his Mom.

“Weird dreams,” He mumbled, blinking up at his mom. Maddie rubbed his arm

“What kind of dreams?” She pressed. Danny grunted.

“Just...bad memories. Mistakes.”

“Was it...about the CATs?” Maddie startled, Jazz was suddenly by her side putting a plate of eggs in front of Danny. He looked down at his plate, but didn’t reach for them.

“No. The other thing. The first thing,” Danny said.

“What thing are you talking about?” Maddie asked. Dany didn’t react, but Jazz looked sheepish.

“Danny has had a lot of test anxiety over the last few years. I have been helping him work through it,” Jazz said quickly. She avoided Maddie’s eye and turned on heel to go back and grab another plate. “You don’t need to worry, Mom.”

Maddie looked at Danny, who was pushing his food around on his plate and slumping closer and closer to the table. And knew she was very worried.

~~~

Once the kids had left for school, Maddie unplugged the coffee maker and carried it down into the lab. Jazz had to nearly drag Danny out of his chair, her brother stumbling into her before catching his balance. Jazz had continuously uttered assurances that Danny was fine and did not need to go to the doctor. Jazz had chattered continuously, Maddie unable to get a word in as they slammed the front door behind her.

With a sigh, she set the coffee pot on the table. Jack was already in the lab, looking just as ragged as she. He was pouring over security footage from the lab, trying to find any evidence of Danny being Phantom.

“How’s it going?” Maddie asked. She massaged her hand.

“We really should have labelled these tapes,” Jack frowned. “We didn’t even order them. I keep switching between tapes from the last few months, to one before Danny was even born. This could take days. Weeks, even.”

Maddie nodded. She had been afraid of something like that. Instead of joining her husband by the small tv, she walked over to where she had kept the notes on the spirit board. She rubbed her hands together, before reaching to pick up the top page.

And dropped it immediately. Her hand trembled. Part of her didn’t want to know the truth. Because if all of this was true. If she and Jack had-

“Mads, come look,” Jack said, more chipper than before. Maddie turned away from the papers, holding her hand close to her chest. Jack had a video paused on the screen. He let it play.

It was Danny, when he was five or six. Jack and Maddie were working on a project in the corner, while Danny was running around. He had a toy rocket in hand, making zooming noises as he sent the little astronauts on a space exploration. He prattled on, making up ridiculous plots where aliens attacked, where wormholes opened to other galaxies, where he had to be a superhero to save the earth from a meteor. Maddie smiled at the memory. Until she watched Danny trip over a spare bit of wire and faceplant into the floor. He started wailing, past Maddie and Jack whirling around and scooping him into a big hug. Maddie felt tears in her eyes. She removed one of her gloves to wipe them away.

“What if we failed him, Jack?” Maddie’s voice trembled. Jack turned a baleful look up at his wife before stopping. An expression of shock on his face.

“Maddie. Your hand,” He jumped out of his seat to get closer. Maddie looked down at her hand.

A circular burn sat in the middle of her palm. Small Lichtenberg figures scattered from the center. But the most striking thing was that the figures were pulsing a bright green. Maddie stared at the mark in horror. Once more she felt a jolt in her hands, her fingers twitching, and the mark grew.

“Jack,” Maddie whispered in fright. Jack took her hand in his, examining it closely. “What is it?”

Jack let go of Maddie’s hand, before running over to the notes himself. He rummaged through them quickly. Maddie felt herself shaking, looking down at the unnatural mark on her hand. Jack let out a noise of triumph as he held up a piece of paper.

“Make sure to end your contact with the spirit when you are finished conversing. If not, you may attach the spirit to yourself. This can have many consequences, depending on the power of the spirit. It can result in something as mundane as constant bad luck or-” Jack faltered, gaping at the page.

“What? What is it Jack?”

“-or as severe as dying the same death,” Jack gulped. “Maddie. Maddie we didn’t do any of the things to close the ritual. You’re still connected.”

I just wanted to look inside. I tripped over a wire. I hit the button on the inside. The portal turned on. And I died.

“ He was electrocuted,” Maddie sobbed, hand spasming. “It’s true, isn’t it? We killed our baby?”

Jack had tears streaming down his face as he rushed forward and crushed Maddie into a hug. She sobbed into his chest. In grief. In guilt. In exhaustion. In fear. Her whole body shook with the force of her tears. Had Jack not been holding her, she would have collapsed onto the ground in a puddle of tears.

“We have to find a way to stop this. To stop the connection,” Jack said. He rushed over to the papers, fanning them out so he could see more than one of them at a time. Maddie joined him, her hand occasionally spasming.

The two of them poured over the notes, double checking them with the Nightingale notebook to see if they could find any correlation to the spirit board. But the notebook only condemned the use of such objects, and did nothing at all to say how to counter their effects. Burning it was briefly mentioned on an online source, but considering it was already a pile of ash that seemed unlikely. Maddie and Jack started to comb through more and more sources, each less reputable than the last. As time crept on, the spasms became more painful. The lighting marks spread up her forearm, up her shoulder, nearly touching her neck. Tears were constantly pouring from her eyes as she barely contained herself from screaming in agony.

The two started when they heard the door upstairs slam. Maddie looked up, sweat pouring down her face. Jack slapped his forehead.

“Of course. We should ask Danny. Maybe he knows something,” The man said, sprinting up the stairs. Maddie hobbled after him, leaning heavily into the wall as she made her way up the stairs. She slowly made her ascent, and opened the lab door.

Jazz was talking to Jack, but she was not alone. Sam and Tucker were standing in the kitchen, Danny’s unconscious body held between them. Maddie gasped at the sight.

“So he is like this because you and Mom did some hairbrained ritual that literally blew up in your faces?” Jazz was angry. Her face was nearly the color of her hair, red with the force of her rage.

“Jazz, we didn’t know,” Maddie whispered. Jazz finally noticed her mom entering the room and gasped in horror. Both Tucker and Sam wore similar expressions.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Jazz rushed over to Maddie, offering her shoulder. Jack filled the teens in on what they had discovered, how Danny was now attached to Maddie, and how it was slowly killing her.

“Please, if you know any way to undo this,” Jack pleaded. This was their last chance.

“I do,” Sam said. Jack beamed, eyes brightened with hope. “But we will have to work fast. Things like this have a time limit.”

“How long?”

“We have to separate them before the Witching Hour of the next day, or else there is nothing that we can do,” Sam said confidently. Jack glanced at the clock. It was already six pm.

“That gives us nine hours, right? We should be able to do that,” Jazz said. But Sam frowned.

“I have to go to my house and get a lot of supplies, and it will take time to set it all up. And I can’t guarantee it will work. It’s not like I have ever actually had to do this,” Sam said.

“Please,” Maddie begged, as she looked at Danny’s slumped body. “Try.”

~~~

The setup had taken them the better part of six hours. Every ingredient had to be burned for a specific amount of time. Every line painted on the floor had to be at the perfect angle. The candles could only burn for so long, with certain herbs mixed in. The remains of the spirit board had to be collected into one space. It was time consuming. It was tedious. And there was no guarantee it would work.

Maddie and Danny were not able to help with the preparations. Danny because he had not woken up since Sam and Tucker had brought him home. He was resting on the couch, completely out of touch with the world. Maddie, however, was not in such a peaceful state.

It was taking all of her effort not to simply curl up and scream. It felt like both fire and ice had poured into her veins, both trying to kill her from the heat and the cold. Her skin looked ashen and pale, sweat and tears constantly pouring down her face. She shook and seized from the volts of electricity that started at her hand and burst through her whole body. She couldn’t stop the whimpers that escaped, causing the others in the room to look over at her with concern.

When the preparations were complete, Jack helped Maddie into the middle of the setup. The electric lights in the room were turned off, with only the candles glow illuminating the room. Maddie nearly crawled to the spot she was supposed to be. She pulled out the little planchet and placed it within arms reach.

Sam had done everything she could, but Maddie had made the connection. Maddie had to sever it.

Maddie took the sterile knife and cut the inside of her arm. She let the blood pour into a basin that held the remains of the spirit bored. Her quivering hands spilled some blood onto the floor and not just in the bowl. But not enough to ruin the painted words. Maddie used her fingers to mix the blood with the ash, creating a paint. With trembling hands, she reached one finger onto the floor and began to draw the Ogham script she remembered from the spirit board. Slowly, as she could afford no mistakes, she drew a new board on the floor. Each one had to be in the exact order as the board had been and she had never been so grateful to Jack for taking a picture of the thing before they used it. Inch by inch, she recreated the board on her kitchen floor.

Now, she had to wait. Wait until the blood had dried enough that she could roll the planchet across the words without smudging. Every second was an eternity of pain, every moment a new level of agony even higher than the last. It might have been five minutes. It might have been an hour. But eventually, she could tell that the bright red of her blood had faded to a sickly brown. She risked touching it, and found it completely dry. She grabbed the planchet, and place a single bloody finger on it.

“Phantom, I would like to speak to you today. Please, I beg you, talk to me,” Maddie’s voice cracked. She waited a breathless moment, before the cursor began to move.

Mom?

“Yes, it’s me,” Maddie bit her lip hard as her body was wracked with pain.

You’re hurt

“ I’m fine sweetie,” Maddie lied. She had to finish this. She didn’t know how much time she had. “Phantom, I have said all that I have to say. My questions are complete. I close this doorway. I close this connection. Your spirit is not bound here.”

Maddie thought she heard a gasp, but she didn’t know where. Suddenly, all the candles turned once more into the strange corona glow. The planchet moved once more.

Goodbye

Maddie watched in fascination as the planchet dissolved into dust. The candles snuffed themselves out and the room was filled with darkness. Maddie slumped in relief as the pain seemed to melt away.

“Mom?” Danny groaned, the light flickering on. Danny stood by the switch, rubbing his eyes as he took in the state of the kitchen.

Jack and Maddie rushed him, crushing him in a hug they hoped expressed everything they couldn’t bring themselves to say.

#Ectober Month 2021 #Ectoberhaunt 2021 #Ectoberhaunt trick #danny phantom #My writing #Cartoons #Ritual

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inlovewithhisblueeyes · 3 years

Text

Stuck in Your Head

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: ~2.7K

Warnings: Descriptive Depressive Episode and Discussions about Prescription Medications (specifically missing doses and having side effects)

A/N: This is my first time writing RPF so I decided to stick with something I know well. I substituted my own best friend’s name in so I didn’t have to deal with the pesky acronyms cluttering the story.

Buried underneath the covers, you were safe even though sleep continued to elude you. The chill of the morning was unable to pierce the walls of your blanket fortress. While the soft pitter-pattering of rain on your window would normally be able to lull you to dreamland, you were left to watch the rise and fall of the fabric.

Early daylight had danced its way across the room a millennia ago. No matter how deep you burrowed into your little nest, the light would seep through. So you tucked your head underneath your pillow and fought the urge to continuously check your phone. Watching time tick past would only make these growing frustrations and anxieties worse.

You remained curled up with your knees close to your chest, willing your hands to stop their shaking. All those exercises you had been taught in therapy seemed fruitless. Nothing could alleviate this numbness that had settled in your bones. Time continued to pass as you laid there, only daring to leave your bed’s warm embrace when your bladder was screaming in agony.

The spot where you laid never had to the time to cool. You were always sucked right back to it in record time like every episode before. Brain fog would cause the same thing every time. The days would seem to just blend into one another, a cycle of light and shadows that would chase each other around the ceiling. You would have no idea if you took your meds, what day it was, or even the last time you ate. Time would be nonexistent in your little blanketed world.

A soft vzzzzt came from outside your safe zone. Moving your hand slightly, you could just barely feel the vibrations of your phone. You paused as you tried to decide if you had enough energy to answer. It was most likely unimportant, another robocall about some silly matter. Sighing heavily, you drew your hand back to its previous position.

Silence fell over the room once more and you breathed a sigh of relief. You forced your eyes shut in hopes that you could finally sleep. Not more than a few moments passed before the quiet was broken yet again. The soft vzzzzt returned, requiring you to begrudgingly open your eyes. You hissed as you slowly rolled over, just enough to reach over and drag your phone under the covers with you.

You flipped your phone over as your best friend’s face filled up the screen. You know you should answer it, but you didn’t want to worry her. Ariel has enough going on without you dragging her into your shit. You quickly shot off one of those automated responses saying you’re busy and you’ll call back later before declining the call.

Carefully shoving your phone back out from under your blanket pile, you tried once more to adjust and get comfy. Finally, it seemed that the sleep you craved is upon you. You yawned before nestling your head deeper into your pillow and letting your eyes fall shut.

You woke up sometime later and noticed that the bedroom is almost completely dark. You dare to glance at your phone and it’s only 6 pm. Stiff limbs quickly made themselves known as you tried to stretch. They crack and pop as you finally moved them, each crying out desperately for motion.

Slowly you sit up and allow yourself to slip out from your burrito. Every movement feels as if you’re wading through an endless pool of molasses. You rise to feet carefully and your knees buckle as they wake up to support you. Ambling towards the kitchen, you tried to scrounge up the desire for anything other than a few mints.

Your pickings are rather slim. Even then everything would take longer than you know you have the energy to stand for. Huffing as you grabbed handful of mints before you make your back to bed. You crawled back into bed, grabbing your laptop in hopes you can find someway to pass the next round of sleepless.

Popping a mint in your mouth and scrolling through the various entertainment options, you happened across a show you know very well. Another time you might have smiled at your luck. Of course it recommends something that he was in. Rolling over to grab your phone, you unlock it to check what time it is over there.

2 am the clock answered. You swallowed the lump in your throat, remembering what he said last time.

“I don’t care what time it is. If you need me, call. I’d do anything for you. “

You glance at the clock once more and you lose your nerve.

“He’s halfway across the world right now and under enough stress. You’ll talk to him again when Friday comes around” you rationalize internally, “That’s more than 3 days away. You’ll be back to your usual by then. You always are.”

You shake your head and push the phone off the bed. Tucking an arm under your head and curling your knees to your chest, placing your laptop on top of them. You settle in with Forensic Files, hoping that Peter Thomas’s voice will eventually get you more sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come. You’ve lost count of how many episodes of Forensic Files that you’ve watched. All of them have blurred together. Once again the sun’s rays slowly painted your room in an array of reds, oranges, and finally yellows. Two more rounds of soft vzzzzt that go unanswered cause you to retreat back under the blankets once more.

For how long you remain there is unknown. All you known is that you’re forced to get up by your throbbing bladder. Then you’re back in your bed, curled up around a pillow and begging for sleep to come. Your body is sore, your mind is all fogged up, and by the time you do feel sleepy, the sun must be high in the sky.

Here's to another day of waking up after the sun has set. Daylight Savings Time is a bitch. There’s no use in checking your phone. You stretched and tried to sum up the strength to move your feet, knowing you need to at least try to make your way to the kitchen. Each step causes a shooting pain in your underused appendages.

Leaning against the counter, you grabbed a package of Cup Ramen from the cabinet. Not the healthiest choice, but the one that will take the shortest amount of time to cook. Adding the water and setting it in the microwave is the easiest part; having the strength to wait the 3 minutes to cook is the hardest.

Anxiety seeps in as you watched the timer go down. Tapping your fingers against your thigh, you tried to pass the time without throwing yourself into an anxiety attack. Finally, the microwave beeps and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You opened the microwave and quickly stirred the contents of the cup together.

You make the trip back to the bed that’s been calling your name since you left. Although you’re not hungry, you have to try to eat. You ate earlier right?....Your stomach hadn’t give any indication of hunger. You ate as much as you could stomach before leaving the unfinished meal beside your bed.

Grabbing your laptop, you scrolled through for something, anything to distract you. In a moment of clarity, you remembered that last time he mentioned a nature documentary which he said you should watch. You found it easily and turned it on, curling your body around your laptop. In your bones, the numbness reared it’s ugly head once more.

The animals in documentary didn’t cause you to laugh at their antics like they usually would. You had to pause it. You felt like you were drowning in this void. What once might have been enough to drag you out of the darkness, no longer could do so. You had been doing so well; going to your appointments and working on coping with your trauma only for the empty pit to gobble you up once more.

Screwing your eyes shut as you take in one shaky breath after the other. Whatever strength that was left in your tired limbs, you willed to help get you through. You needed to be fine, he needed you to be fine. Every inch of you shook with hurt and sorrow as sleep waded in and out of your mind. It took forever to succumb.

A gentle chime woke you from your fitful sleep. You laid underneath your mountain of blankets and watched the gentle rise and fall that came with every breath you took. You blinked a few times as you attempted to stretch out your body. The chime had stopped by the time you were finally able to peak your head from where it was tangled in your cocoon.

The noise had emanated from your laptop. You inwardly curses yourself because you only know what that means. You left yourself logged into Skype and you reached a hand over to check who called. However, as soon as you did, the chime started up again, his name flashed on your screen.

A sob threatened to break loose from your lips. It couldn’t have been Friday already. Skype dates only happened on Friday and Saturdays, that was your routine. You glanced around your room and contemplated slamming your laptop closed. Based on the colors of the sun that painted your bedroom’s walls, it was early, much too early for his call.

Deep down you knew he would keep calling until you responded and as much as it pained you to do so, you had to give into him. You moved the cursor to hover over the accept button. With a deep breath, you clicked accept. You waited for the swoosh that always came before his face filled the screen.

You couldn’t face him like this. He didn’t deserve this. Your stomach was already upset, it didn’t need your anxiety making it worse. Burying your face in your hands, you heard the tell-tale noise that the call connected.

“Darling, there you are,” he exclaimed.

You had no choice but to peek between your fingers to see his smiling face. He looked so happy and full of light. You couldn’t dare to bring him down from his high. He was worthy of so much more, someone who wasn’t empty. Surely he could see that.

“As much as I’d love to talk your lovely hands, I’d rather talk to that face of yours.”

“Hen-“ Your voice cracked from not being used in so long.

“Please,” He begged.

Every inch of your body quaked, the inevitable was here. He would see you, see how broken and lost you were, and wouldn’t be able to take it. The expiration date for your time together was today.

“Please, sweetheart.” He tried again, his voice no louder than a whisper.

You shook your head in silent agreement to his plea. Trembling, your hands pealed away from your face and finally you saw your boyfriend’s face fully. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead and there was an inkling of stubble making an appearance on his face. His eyes were bright and warm as always. You could just barely make out the brown amongst the blue at the top of his left eye.

“There you are,” Henry murmured, his voice dropping an octave.

“Hen-“

“Shhhh... I know it’s not Friday but I wanted to see you. Ariel was worried. I was worried.”

“I’m so sorry-” You started as you felt tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, love. I’m happy to see your face. I would ask how you are, but I think I know. Have you been taking your meds?”

“I don’t remember. All I know my stomach is a bit upset,” you whispered as the first hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I’d reckon it’s been a few days then,” Henry sighed, ”Do you think could get up and make some green tea? That’s always helped in the past.”

You groaned, flopping backwards onto your bed. A few moments pass by in silence as you weighed your options.

“I can try.”

“That’s all I’m asking for, sweetheart,” admitted the blue eyed man,” How about you bring me with you?”

You nodded slowly. Henry was always good at reading you. It seemed that regardless of the distance between the two of you and the blurriness of the camera, his skill hadn’t waned. He knew you so well and right now you were thankful for that. There was so much you couldn’t say right now, you didn’t have the energy nor the clarity to do so.

Stretching your arms above your head, you winced at the stiffness in them. You had to do this, you had to fight that little voice in your head. You carefully moved yourself to the edge the bed. Taking a much needed deep breath, you forced your aching body to sit up. Gently, after a few moments, you maneuvered yourself to stand on your feet.

You glanced over at your computer screen and saw nothing but pride and encouragement in his blue eyes. It gave you the required push to grab your laptop and make your way towards the kitchen, tired body be damned. Normally, you feel safe and content in the silence with him. The freezing emptiness that had made it’s home amongst your bones and mortal flesh flourished in it.

“How’s filming going?” You croaked.

Henry was quick to fill the crushing silence “Remember that scene I mentioned to you last time…” His hearty timbre warming the outermost parts of your mind. Puttering around the kitchen, you put the kettle on and grabbed your favorite mug while listening. He could be speaking about blue-footed boobies and you would still be rapt.

Sooner than you would of liked, the kettle sung it’s annoying little tune. Carefully, you snatched it off the stove and poured into the waiting mug. You dropped the teabag in and leaned up against the counter. Glancing over at the computer, you saw Henry watching you with a smile on his face.

“Good job, sweetheart,” Henry beamed.

You tried to blink away the tears that remained in your eyes. “I boiled water. Nothing too special about that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Shakily setting the down the mug, you forced yourself to take some deep breaths, but it does nothing to stop the onslaught of tears. They blazed in hot trails down your cheeks.

“My brain doesn’t work, Hen. The fog sets in and it’s like I can’t do the simplest tasks. I can’t even just go through the motions,” You sobbed

“Oh, darling,” his voice barely a whisper and your gaze remained on the floor, arms wrapped around your quaking form.

“Nothing’s working…. I’m so tired of feeling like this. I don’t even feel alive anymore. Just empty and cold all the time.”

Silence fell over the two of you once again; only being pierced by your shuddering breaths as you tried regain control. It took a few moments to calm yourself. You brushed away the remaining tears and finally glance up at him.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I know you’re struggling. I’m worried about you being all alone right now with everything that’s going on,” Henry admitted,” How about you ask Ariel to come stay with you? Just until I finish filming.”

“I…I can do that.”

“I want you to know you don’t have to stick to our schedule. I know you like the consistency it brings, but I don’t mind if you call other times, love. I’d be happy to hear your voice more often.”

Nodding your head, you grabbed your abandoned tea and took a sip. “I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too. We’re in this together, us against the problem.”

Somehow his words seemed to pierce at the remaining chill in your body. He was exactly what you needed, your lighthouse in the storm. No matter how far apart you may be, you’ll always find your way back to his loving embrace.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #real person fiction #celebrity fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #rpf

287 notes · View notes

matchamorphosis · 3 years

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇𝓎 | after an anxiety episode, you and ari make cookies together.

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 | steamy angsty fluff!

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 | daddy!ari levinson × black//woc!reader

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 | 4.3K

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | 18+ ddlg! ♡ anxiety attack ♡ some sexual themes ♡ degradation ♡ dick jokes ♡ hints to smut but nothing else! ♡ this is all 100% concentrated fluff

𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓉𝓈 | love language by ariana grande ♡ tuxedo junction by glenn miller ♡

𝓌. 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 | okay so i tried okay i tried to make it as fluffy as i can but i just couldn’t help to not lace my own school circumstances into this while writing :( i can’t believe I got this out in just a day but i hope y’all enjoy this cherubs!!! ♡ do not repost or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or plagiarize my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡

♡ the sight of the tiny blue ‘submit’ button at the bottom of the screen increased the swirling thoughts as your eyes turned to the ticking clock at the bottom right of the computer screen.

♡ you don’t take a second to breathe but anxiously bite the flesh of your lower lip, this week long project was coming to a crashing deadline as it was due in just a minute from now.

♡ how have you gotten yourself in this distressful circumstance?

♡ well typical clumsy you blacked out in a power nap for the past hours when you thought you submitted the assignment while waiting for your friend to do the touch ups of her portion of the assignment worth one-third of your semester grade.

♡ waking up from the long nap felt like cloudy heaven, mind finally relaxed accompanied with the delicious looseness of your energized limbs as you stretched them.

♡ of course the rosy moment was quickly diminished when you reached for your phone at your side table, hoping to catch up on any recent news you missed out from your nap.

♡ and you had as you skimmed through each and every exhilarating and restless text from your friend who apparently got a message from both your professor that the assignment wasn’t turned in.

♡ your mind raced as you quickly opened your laptop, tracing through your emails you eye the message from your professor that was outlined in red.

♡ the simple sentence of: this assignment affects your semester grade, turn it in before the deadline.

♡ had your widening eyes taking the email in, your mind flashed through the memory when you strictly remembered that you clicked the submit button.

♡ you know you did, you fucking know it but here you are anxiously rushing to submit it again.

♡ but at this point it doesn’t matter because you are now seconds away from turning it in before the whole portion of the google classroom submission turns grey.

♡ gathering the link to the word document that held your assignment the beating in your chest was beginning to level once your hand dragged the mouse pad cursor to the little blue button.

♡ rechecking the links you don’t dare take an inhale until your painted cherry red index finger clicks down hard on the submit button, eyes widening and heart pounding when the little loading circle appears.

♡ “c’mon!” your hushed whisper stresses, your hands forming into tight fists that rest onto the warm plushness of your thighs your skirt didn’t cover.

♡ uneasy eyes flash to the clock onto your macbook and notice the white font against the black outline displaying 11:59, you let out a closed lip whine when the loading whirlpool doesn’t go away and the bold purple words of ‘submitted!’ don’t appear on your screen.

♡ however, with whatever saving grace and golden strand of luck that was fortunately bestowed on you, that easing message appeared seconds away from the striking hour of midnight.

♡ letting out a relieved sigh your head falls back as you closed and rubbed your eyes, your cold fingertips attempting to cool your racing head you move them away from your face when your phone tings.

♡ grabbing your phone that was thrown in your blitzing uneasiness minutes ago the sight of your friends name appears on your lockscreen, under it holds their message.

♡ please [y/n] tell me you turned it in.

♡ you unlock your phone and message them back, informing them that you have turned it in which you received the same relieved feedback that coursed through your mind a minute ago.

♡ closing off the conversation with a comment of speaking to them tomorrow you shut off your phone and closed your macbook, setting them both on their individual chargers before walking out of your room.

♡ you can hear the light jazz of glenn millers ‘tuxedo junction’ fuzz through the halls, the pinkness of your socks that cover your feet guide you to where the music gets stronger and stronger.

♡ ari’s office door is slightly cracked, the music bustling inside it flowing out into the hallway you step closer and peek your eye through the crack.

♡ there you see your lover, sitting at his polished desk, a cigarette in hand he puffs it as his spectacle eyes glance down at the papers that lie in front of him, an ink pen in his other grasp writes down what he needs to.

♡ glancing down you notice his feet tapping against the carpet to the suave rhythm of the jazz blasting on a small speaker at the corner near his numerous chestnut bookshelves and flourishing green potted plants.

♡ taking a deep inhale of the cigar the white smoke that slips through his lips looks like a soft cotton cloud, your heart jumps to an opportunity when his hand that holds his pen stops writing.

♡ his eyes skimming through his papers as his fingers adjust the glasses on the bridge of his nose, setting down his burning thick cigar on the ashtray near him as well.

♡ fingers framing the sides of his bearded cheeks, your lover reads his written work with a careful eye, foot continuing to tap as the beat enters into its main rowdy trumpet chorus.

♡ pink tongue gliding against his rosy lips, his eyes shine and with that he takes the papers in both his hands and evens them out, grabbing the stapler that’s set near his neatly arranged pens he clicks the thick papers together.

♡ grabbing a navy blue folder he sets the papers in it and opens one of his desk drawers before setting his paperwork amongst his other files, shutting it closed his fingers grab his cigar that is still burning.

♡ taking it back between his lips your eyes don’t leave them, you never wanted to be that cigar so badly, your heart skips a beat when ari’s yes set against yours, a smirk peeking his tobacco smoked lips you let out a hushed ‘eep’ and back away from the door.

♡ you hear ari’s deep chuckle from in his office, causing your face to heat up and limbs to go stiff in embarrassment, peeking your face again through the doors crack your eyes set back on ari’s amused smirk and you gasp and move your head away.

♡ ari let out a airy laugh, oh he was enjoying your flustered state, he always found it so cute when he caught you staring at him.

♡ “come in princess,” he spoke.

♡ smirk still plastered on his lips he exhales another white smoky cloud before putting out the thick cigar, not wanting you to inhale any of the fumes.

♡ hears the door open, eyeing your shy figure walking to him growing confident with each step.

♡ your hips, legs and shoulders dance along the jazzy miller piece, making his smirk widen as you sway and swing your body to emphasize your pronounced curves that hide in your thick collared sweater and tennis skirt.

♡ he can’t snatch his eyes away from your soft thighs that aren’t properly covered from that ridiculously short skirt, his eyes darken when he sees your fingers unbuttoning the buttons of the top portion of the designer sweatshirt.

♡ your hands do a sinister job at gliding up your curves slowly, teasingly rising the hem of your flowy skirt before gripping the bottom of your unbuttoned canary yellow sweatshirt.

♡ pulling it off your bodice and over your head you throw it behind you to reveal the crop top that tightly wraps your chest, displaying your plump cleavage ari’s darken eyes latch upon.

♡ “hi daddy,” you speak through your glossed lips and batting lashes, stepping around to stand besides his figure sitting in his leather swivel chair.

♡ those honeyed words are spoken in an almost purr, your eyes skimming his face and to the objects that cover his desk your curious fingertips and cherry painted acrylics graze and clack against.

♡ the image of his dark eyes sparkle when they meet yours, they glimmer in adoration as one of his large warm hands rise to cup your cheek.

♡ “hello princess,” the deepness of his words has your chest fluttering and the heat of your core radiating sensually, your eyes leave his and your lips press against each other abashed.

♡ his smirk turns into a soft smile, how can his little pearl be so bold yet shy at the same time?

♡ whatever it is about you he savors and cherishes, his hand that cups your chin is removed to pat down on his trouser thigh but maybe he thinks otherwise on the known signal that you're a bit to latched on the mood and want him to take over whatever thick sexual tension he started.

♡ however he’s surprised as his little shy pearl wraps her arms around his neck, pedicured fingers lacing in his shoulder length hair as soft legs smoothly straddle his lap, it made it all easier that they were parted slightly as you settled your bum against his calves.

♡ took him by another surprise as you smashed your bubblegum glossed lips against his, rubbing your chest against his as your tongue slipped into his mouth.

♡ you usually don’t kiss him like this after he had a cigar but ari isn’t complaining as he swirls his tongue with yours, his large hands travel down to cup your bum to find a nice surprise which results in his pants tightening more against his thick bulge.

♡ your shameless skirt doesn’t even cover your ass properly, the fringed designer cloths trimming curtains the curve of your ass but leaves the plump dips of your under cheeks uncovered for his rough palms to smooth and grope.

♡ you moan against his lips but that soft moans turns into a pitched whine as he releases his lips from your erotic mouth, in result he lightly slaps your ass before groping the flesh.

♡ “how was your nap sleeping beauty?” ari’s voice low and raspy at the cause of your kiss, you sigh and bow your head at remembering the thought.

♡ “it was nice daddy but it turned a little rotten after,” your pout causes his brows to scrunch.

♡ “why’s that princess?” his hands smooth and pat your hair still slightly untamed from your nap, your hands that grip his expansive button up smooth the material down.

♡ “because I had to rush to turn in an assignment I thought I turned in, it was so stressful finding out from my friend who thankfully reminded me of so,” you mutter, your mood becoming spoiled when remembering school.

♡ nowadays you barely enjoyed your time with your daddy without worrying about any uncompleted assignments or the thought of your grades dropping or being fully invested in studying.

♡ school was a killjoy, it was killing your special time with your daddy and even though you still turned in that project your mind still was filled with anxiety and stress.

♡ “have you turned in your assignment doll?” ari spoke and you nodded your head, calming a bit as his hand rubs your back up and down, the sensation almost therapeutic. “then what is my princess worrying about?”

♡ your pout signifies it all, you don’t know what your stressing about, maybe you forgot another assignment that needed to be turned in, maybe you forgot to study for a test that was nearing soon, maybe you missed a virtual class during your nap.

♡ your eyes water and your bottom lip trembles, the grip you have on his button up tightens with your fear-riddled scrunch, your breathing stuttering which has ari sitting up to grab your face in his hands.

♡ “hey, hey. baby calm down-,” but your breathing still stutters as your face scrunches and streams in your aggressive tameless tears.

♡ “baby, sweetheart look at me!” his voice snaps to your attention as your red eyes meet soothing aqua pools, hands gripping his shoulders and teary eyes locked in need to keep him close but he seems like an ocean away.

♡ “count with me baby, like we practiced before. inhale-” he says, inhaling a breath and your stuttering lungs are quick to inhale a breath along with him, your mind however races still. “exhale,” he whispers and lets out a breath and you do so.

♡ “one,” you two continued this breathing session till your tears stopped and your pacing chest settled calmly against his, the only sound being the soft trumpet of another jazz song playing and your soft sniffs.

♡ his arms cage you in a warm secure hug, hands rubbing soothing circles against your back as your open hands rest against his chest, he had you drink a glass of water with a tylenol tablet to ease you.

♡ yet your silence is a major tell to ari that your mind is still scrambling despite feeling your stable heartbeat against his, he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

♡ “[y/n]? princess?” ari softly speaks, your eyes slightly sting from your vicarious crying and your head aches from the episode that happened a while ago, cheeks slightly damped, you raise your hands to wipe them dry.

♡ pulling your head away from his collar bones you sit up to meet his reassured glance to yours, “i’m sorry daddy,” you spoke, it was almost drenched in seeking forgiveness but ari shove his head while cupping your face in his hands again pulling your face to his.

♡ “no sweetheart don’t apologize, it’s all alright. something like this shouldn’t need an apology, you aren’t at any fault because you’ve done nothing wrong but let out your emotions.” your eyes watered with his comforting words.

♡ “it’s not the things that are stressing you that are bothering you, it’s just the thought. it’s just your thoughts, just and only your thoughts but you got through that so well princess. i’m so proud of you.” ari’s thumbs swiped away at each of your tears, your lips slowly curling up in a small smile at his praise.

♡ sitting up on your knees you rested your forehead against his, nose bumping against his you giggled as our daddy’s eyes squinted at the impact before letting out a soft chuckle,

♡ your eyes glimmering as they twined to ari’s cooling blue hues through his frameless thin glasses, your hands rise up to caress his bearded cheeks, his finely soft hairs tenderly scratch your fingers and palms while his rub your bare lower back.

♡ an equally tender smile radiates off both of you before he pecks your lips to his.

♡ “tell me princess, tell daddy what you want. anything you want you’re getting,” his words string together a thoughtful expression compressed on your pretty facial features, your stomach interrupts you both as it loudly growls.

♡ “clever princess, you didn’t have to tell daddy when he could hear your hungry tummy,” ari’s own comment makes him laugh loudly and your face heats up as you swat his chest.

♡ “stop being mean daddy,” you grumble with a pout but you still see that handsome smirk against his face and as much as you wanna turn your head away when he grabs your chin you allow him to kiss you.

♡ “alright daddy’s done with being a meanie. c’mon sweetheart, lets get some food inside that tummy,” he says poking your belly.

♡ the tickling sensation lets out a giggle from you while he grabs your body to wrap your legs around his waist as he gets off his seat.

♡ ari carries you out of his office to the kitchen, setting you down on the lavish island that stands in the large kitchen however you whine when the cold surface hits your back thighs.

♡ the little sound alerts ari who turns his head to you after searching the refrigerator for some ingredients to create a suitable meal for you.

♡ “oh right, sorry princess,” he says and carries you to a cushioned chair near the dinner table, of course you could jump off the counter and walk to the seat yourself but you both like it when he babied you.

♡ after just a minute of searching through the refrigerator he closes his with a sigh, “do you wanna order something sugarplum?” he said and you smiled and nodded your head.

♡ “yes daddy,” you spoke and his chest hums in glee seeing your joy laced in your voice, he allowed you to order whatever food you wanted on your food delivery app since he wasn’t an expert at those things.

♡ a thing about ari is that he was so old fashioned, he didn’t have a computer to organize all his files because he had numerous drawers and file cabinets to keep all his important documents.

♡ his portable device was a flip phone and as much as you teased him for it he didn’t bulge at taking interest in any technological advances to his life.

♡ “is that all you want sweetheart? you don’t want anything else for the night?” ari spoke as he poured you a glass of ice cubed strawberry mint water from a glass pitcher, setting the cup in front of you as you scrolled through your phones feed.

♡ you smile up at him as you take the glass, “can we make cookies?” you ask before raising the glasses rim to your lips and taking a sip of the cold minty berry water.

♡ “didn’t you order a dessert on the app?” he asked and you shook your head no, the dessert options the restaurant of your choice didn’t really have anything that sparked interest to your midnight cravings.

♡ “don’t you think it’s a bit late to bust open the flour and sugar baby?” he said and a naughty smile grazes your lips at his question.

♡ “daddy it’s never too late to bust open anything if you put your mind to it,” your smooth voice spoke as you got off your seat to walk to the refrigerator, possessing a bit of flounce to your hips.

♡ you opened the stainless steel door handle and grabbed the large bar of nestle tollhouse cookie dough, closing the door behind you you walk to the island and place it in front of ari.

♡ if you both weren't doing it from scratch then this was the only option.

♡ he still stares down at it while you prepare the oven to preheat, getting out the cooking spray, parchment and cookie tray, “what’s wrong daddy?”

♡ “that’s big baby,” he said, his eye’s proximate on how many chocolate chip cookies the large bar could make but he doesn’t notice the naughty smirk that crosses your lips again until his eyes move up towards yours.

♡ “I know daddy but it isn’t as big as you,” ari’s face blushes at those words but before he can recollect any thoughts or get his hands on your insatiable figure of your moving skirt turns away to grab a knife, diminishing all his thoughts he rushes to take it away from you.

♡ “daddy can do this part, you can roll the dough in balls. can you do that princess?” ari softly asks, cutting open the bar he cuts even slices then cuts the thick circular prism in half to have you roll them both into spheres.

♡ “of course daddy but only if you can let me lick yours after we’re done with this,” you say getting straight to work with rolling the cold dough in your palms but only after brushing your ass against his thigh.

♡ ari couldn’t help his face from flushing into a crimson rose, feeling his pants tightening around his hardening erection at your shameless proclamations and actions.

♡ but it didn’t have him distracted from the task at hand or from quickly smacking your ass, commanding you to behave for him.

♡ and you did, kept your dirty remarks to yourself as you placed the spheres of cookie dough in a correct distance from each other in rows on the cookie tray.

♡ you both decided that ten cookies after a bit of a banter between you and him as you used your puppy eyes on him to make the whole tube but he set the discussion to an end with a compromise.

♡ the compromise being that he’d let you stay up and watch whatever movie you want with him as you had your take out and cookies, adding your additional requests to the compromise that there better be lots of cuddles and kisses.

♡ he slides your hot pink baking oven mitts with the mini stitched cupcakes on them and popped the cookie tray in the hot oven.

♡ turning to your figure sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the island setting the kitchen timer for twelve minutes and placing it down beside you.

♡ ari prepares the cooling rack and spatula for when the cookies are done, not noticing your neediness and attention seeking grabs at his collar and hair.

♡ “daddy,” you mutter, that bratty persona becoming clearer with each of your restless limbs and pouting lips attempting to grab his attention.

♡ “yes princess?” he spoke, his eyes moving towards yours to set sight of your signature doe eyes he knows so well.

♡ those doe eyes you give him when your bare and desperate underneath him.

♡ scratching crescent moons on his back, moaning so sweetly for him as he thrusts his cock in and out of your velvety pussy.

♡ you don’t say anything though, all you do is part your legs and his eyes darken once they set sight of your wet core open on display under your skirt.

♡ those same lust blown eyes dart down and meet your small peach colored panties crumbled on the floor underneath your dangling socked feet.

♡ before he can even do anything, before having the chance to rip that skirt off your body or getting on his knees and lick your tangy slicked folds the doorbell interrupts him.

♡ remembering your take-out, annoyance captivates ari but he smirks at the opportunity to tease you as you did him.

♡ so instead of ignoring the delivery person he walks away from your weeping cunt and gaped mouth to get the door.

♡ returning with your food and to your glossy pout your whines and grabs for him become more demanding and louder as he takes his sweet time taking each plastic take-out container and brown bag filled with food out of the delivery bag to the table.

♡ “daddy!” your bratty calls for him but he just ignores as he takes out plates and napkins for you and him, setting them to look their best on the dinner table.

♡ organizing the plastic containers and bags of food in between your plates he finally turns and walks to you, grabbing your waist you smirk thinking you got what you wanted but it disappears when the following words leave his mouth.

♡ “dinner time princess,” his smirk is more arrogant than yours and it only widens as you glare up at him, you’re so cute when you don’t get what you want.

♡ “you don’t want dinner princess?” he asked and you nodded your head, ari’s brow quirks in amusement.

♡ “then what do you want then princess?” it wasn’t a question, more so a demand to have the brat in his arms to speak on what she wants.

♡ you cross your arms and turn your head away from him, setting your angry sight on anything besides ari which he doesn’t permit as he grabs your jaw firmly in hands and shifts your sight to him.

♡ “speak up dolly. good girls get whatever they ask for, brats get nothing,” he spoke and your glare doesn’t ease one bit but your answer is mumbled to softly and lowly for ari to hear, your attitude only adding only the impatience ari has for you in this situation.

♡ “i’m sorry princess,” ari spoke before gripping your ass in a rough harsh handleful, “but daddy didn’t hear you. can daddy’s little dumb brat speak up? or does daddy have to give his dumb baby dinner and send her to bed with no cookies and cock?”

♡ the growl that rolled off his lips hit against the shell of your ear as his fingertips dig sharply into the raw warm plushness of your ass, your breath staggered but the wetness that pools your pleasure seeking core doesn’t lessen.

♡ “I want daddy please. please can I have it daddy?” you whimper, your voice meek and fragile and nothing like the cocky brat that teased him both verbally and physically moments ago.

♡ “you’ve been making jokes on daddy’s cock and balls since I let you make your cookies and now when you're on the receiving end of the joke you can’t properly tell daddy you want it?”

♡ his voice was rough and course, his hands that smack and grope your ass hold the same fierceness as he picks you up before slamming your back against the metal of the refrigerator.

♡ hearing the little breathy whine when his fingers purposely glide through your folds, his smirk darkens as your wetness coats his thick fingers.

♡ “oh, does my spoiled brat want daddy’s fingers? or does my spoiled brat want daddy’s cock?” he whispered as his head snakes in the crook of your neck.

♡ nibbling the tender skin under your ear that practically makes you cream against his stroking fingers.

♡ “I want your cock daddy! please, daddy! I need it!” your voice is a combination of whimpers and moans, the sound of it music to his ears.

♡ before he can give you another teasing stroke at your needy puffy folds, or command you to unbuckle his belt the timer for the cookies goes off.

♡ ari’s dark smirk shadows his face and you let out a whine knowingly the results of the night.

♡ it was going to take a while until you’ll get what you want and ari will partake in the satisfying discipline to teach you a lesson on misbehaving.

#♡ rosies mini headcannons ♡#♡ ari levinson ♡#ari levinson × reader #ari levinson × black!reader #ari levinson × woc!reader #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson fluff! ♡✨#ari levinson mini headcannon #chris evans headcannon #chris evans smut #ari levinson smut

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soonhoonsol · 3 years

Photo

Welcome to soonhoonsol’s gif tutorial!

As a nice anon asked me how I make my gifs, I thought it’d be cool to create an in-depth tutorial :) Perhaps this can help some others enter the gif-ing world too!

What we’ll be using for this tutorial:

Software: Bandicam, Avisynth, Photoshop CC 2018, Topaz Labs

File Format: .mp4

Operating System: Windows

Disclaimer: This is just my method. Every gif maker works differently and has different preferences. What works for me may not work for you, and that’s completely okay!

Let’s get into it!

1. Find the best quality video you can find

This really depends on the content you want to gif. For variety shows, music videos or photoshoots, any video of [1080p] should be sufficient. Try not to use anything below 720p.

For stage performances, fancams tend to have higher resolutions [1440p, 4k]. Use these if your computer can handle it. If not, usually 1080p works fine. The best option would be to download .ts files, which provide clearer and less grainy videos.

For Seventeen, you can get .ts files from The Rosebay on Twitter :)

2. Screen recording

As a Windows user, I don’t have a built-in screen recorder on my laptop. So, I use Bandicam, which is a free screen recording software. The only con to it is that it has a watermark.

To combat the watermark, I always have the boundary box a little bigger than the video itself so that I can crop it out of the gif.

This is what the recording would look like:

Just record the scene(s) that you want to gif so your video file doesn’t end up too large! Your recording should be in .mp4 format.

(You may use pure .ts files in Avisynth but it never worked well for me so I usually screen record the .ts video and move on)

You can find your recorded videos in Documents > Bandicam.

3. Avisynth

I followed THIS tutorial to download Avisynth. This software is really helpful if you want sharp and clear gifs! I recommend to follow the steps in the tutorial as the below method stems from it.

- Once you have downloaded it, open up your recorded video from Step 2 and watch it. Take note of the duration you want to gif. (e.g. from 00:01 to 00:05)

- Drag your video file into normalwebrange.bat. On Windows, you can find this in File Explorer > Local Disk (C:) > video. For other .bat files, you may check out THIS tutorial.

- In the pop-up box, key in the start time for your gif (e.g. 00:00:01). It has to be in hh:mm:ss format. Press “enter”.

- Key in the end timing and press “enter” again. A resizer should pop up in an Internet Browser. I found that Firefox works best for me.

- In the resizer, you may indicate the size of the gif you’d like to make. You can also click and drag the video to resize and frame it to your liking. You may refer to THIS post for Tumblr dashboard sizing.

(These are some common gif sizes for stage performances):

1 gif - 540px by 540px (square)

2 gifs - 268px by 350px

3 gifs - 177/178px by 250px

- Under “Preprocessor”, select “debilinear” for the second box. For the first box, you may pick between qtgmc 30 (same frame rate as video) or qtgmc 60 (doubles the frame rate; smoother).

- You will also see “fast” or “slow” options. These are just how long the video will take to render. “Fast” will give you slightly lower quality as compared to “slow”, but usually is good enough.

(You can see that his features are sharper and more defined in the “slow” gif as compared to the “fast” one.)

- Copy the code in the white box. Navigate to the scripting window (it should have popped up with the resizer) and paste the code at line 17. Type a “#” before qtgmc on the same line. This will prevent the software from lagging.

- Click on the inverted triangle at the bottom of the screen. Your video will now appear in the scripting window. Drag the slider to the intended starting point of your gif and press the “home” key on your keyboard.

- Drag the slider again to the intended ending point of your gif and press the “end” key on your keyboard. This blue area you see is the duration of your gif.

- On an empty line (I usually go to line 8), place your cursor there and click “Apply” in the mini pop-up window. Afterwards, remove the “#” from line 17.

- Go to File > Save or press Ctrl + S to save the code. Close the scripting window. The video renderer will pop up. When it’s done, it will automatically close by itself.

4. Using Photoshop and Topaz

I’m using my school license for Photoshop 2018, but if you don’t have that, there are plenty of cracked versions for free. I don’t have any to recommend though so I’m sorry about that :(

I followed THIS video tutorial to download Topaz plug-ins for free. I use Topaz DeNoise (the most helpful) and Clean, but you may use others if you’d like :)

Alright, let’s dive in to the steps!

- Open up Photoshop and go to File > Import > Video Frames to Layers.

- A pop-up will appear. You can find your deinterlaced Avisynth video in File Explorer > Local Disk (C:) > video > temp > video.avi. Follow the settings in the picture and click “OK”.

- Go to Window > Timeline to open up the timeline. You should be able to see your gif spread out in frames. If you press the play button, it should play like a video.

- (Quick optional step I learned from THIS tutorial) Go to Image > Canvas and set the Resample option to “Bicubic (smooth gradients)”.)

- Select the first frame of your gif in the timeline. Shift select the last frame. Go to Window > Layers. Shift select these layers as well.

- With everything selected, click the 3 lines at the top right corner of the timeline. Select “Convert to Video Timeline”.

- At the top of the screen, select Filter > Convert for Smart Filters. Your layers will condense into one layer. Don’t worry, your gif is fine.

- Now it’s time to sharpen the gifs. Go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen. Play around with the settings to your liking!

- If you’ve downloaded Topaz correctly, it should appear under Filter > Topaz Labs. If a pop-up asks you for an activation key, you may use THESE to activate it for free.

- Go to Filter > Topaz Labs > DeNoise and/or Clean and play with the settings until you’re satisfied.

5. Blurring

If your gifs have captions/logos that are distracting, you’d want to blur them out. Don’t be like 2018 me that blurred out the logo frame by frame; it’s very tiring. Instead, using this method from @scoupsy‘s tutorial, you’ll save lots of time.

- In the Layers tab (Windows > Layers), select the ��New Layer” icon. It should be blank.

- Select the Brush tool. Make sure the “Hardness” setting is below 20%. This will blend the blurring nicely into the gif.

(For the sake of this tutorial, I will be blurring out the Bandicam logo to show you.)

- Paint over the captions/logos. Make sure this is on the blank layer!

- Duplicate (Right Click > Duplicate) the gif layer and drag it so that it’s on top of the blank layer.

- Right click on the duplicate layer and select “Create Clipping Mask”.

- Go to Filter > Blur > Gaussian Blur and play around with the settings until you’re satisfied with the level of blurring. Click “OK”.

6. Flattening & Colouring

- Once you’re done with sharpening and/or blurring, click on the 3 lines on at the right corner of the video timeline and go to Convert Frames > Flatten Frames Into Clips.

- Topaz layers and blurring will take some time to render so you can just chill for now~

- When it’s done rendering, click again on the 3 lines and go to Convert Frames > Make Frames From Clips.

- Convert it back to the gif timeline by clicking on the 3-box icon at the bottom left of the timeline.

- Select the first frame of your gif. It must be the FIRST.

- Scroll to the top of the layers and select the layer at the top. Any other layers you add should be on top of this layer. VERY IMPORTANT!!

- In the Adjustments Tab (Window > Adjustments), there are many different things to play with. There’s a high chance you won’t use everything, but here’s a few of my favourites.

Levels - Adjust the brightness and contrast of your gif in depth.

Hue/Saturation - Useful for changing colours, or switching it to black and white.

Color Balance - Tweak the colours to your liking.

Colour Lookup - Comes with built-in LUTs that you can use as a preset. Great starting point for colouring. Saves time too. You can even download plug-ins for this. 11/10 tool.

Selective Colour - Adjust the vibrancy of specific colours.

- Colouring is completely up to the gifmaker. Go crazy go stupid :D

7. Exporting

We’re almost to the end!

- Set the timing for your gif.

If you used qtgmc30, the best timing would be 0.04s / 0.05s / 0.06s.

If you used qtgmc60, the best timing would be 0.02s / 0.03s / 0.04s.

- Once you’re satisfied with everything, go to File > Export > Save for Web (Legacy).

- Follow the settings in the picture below:

- Tumblr’s gif limit is 10mb per gif. Check the gif size at the bottom left of the pop-up window. Make sure it’s below 10mb; the smaller the better.

- Click “Save”. Choose where you’d like to save the gif.

- Done!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that’s it! You’ve successfully made a gif! Good job you :D

I hope this tutorial was helpful! Please leave some feedback if it helped, or if you have other methods you’d like to share :)

Lastly, if you have any questions, feel free to send in an ask or DM me!! :)

Good luck and happy gif-ing :’D

#gif tutorial #kpop gifs #avisynth tutorial #topaz tutorial #gifs #chey.resource #kpop #idk what else to tag so...#i finally posted the tutorial yay!!#please spare a reblog if you find this even remotely helpful thank you <3 #also to spread it hehe i spent a lot of time on this #if anyone has any questions please feel free to DM me!!#i apologize if there are any spelling errors

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

Text

fate matrix

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #05 (free) - fate ]

[ alphinaud/wol & cameos and mentions of some friend ocs, you’re gonna have to read to find out who :) ] ★ [ 5,241 words (oof) ] ★ [ fate matrix au ]

fate: be destined to happen, turn out, or act in a particular way

in a world where the hands of destiny are ones and zeros, at the center of the matrix was a little goddess who would soon find out that she too, isn’t immune to the pull of fate

Day ???? | 07:07am | Day of Destined Meetings

An alarm rings, beeping in an increasingly loud volume as the monitors begin booting up. As light from the screens flood the room, the sound of cotton ruffling can be heard, followed by a soft little yawn.

The girl stirs, clutching at her duvet for warmth before her eyelids flutter open. Bright violet eyes stare up at the ceiling, where the patches of glow up star stickers have lost their radiance in the midst of the fluorescent bulb lighting up. Blinded momentarily, she grimaces, before rolling onto her side and sitting up.

“Good morning, alpha.” A melodic voice chirps out merrily from her parted lips, and she raises a hand to pet the head of the stuffed chocobo that she had been laying beside. “It’s time for work again, huh?”

Stretching her arms high above her head with a final, long yawn, the girl shuffles over to the minibar that was tucked under the table, pulling the door open before grabbing a small tub of yoghurt and peeling it open to peer inside curiously.

Oh, it’s strawberry today, how wonderful! Whoever or whatever magical force is behind stocking up the minibar seems to be in her favor this morning.

Grateful now for her breakfast, the girl slides over to the front of the bed, and places her hand on the mouse after taking a spoonful of the yoghurt into her mouth.

System booting... Please enter password. >illyaskawi03112 Log in successful. Fatematrix.exe starting. Welcome, Alice.

The monitors that surround her begin loading up window tabs after window tabs - and at the center on her main monitor, a sizeable grid of glowing icons pop up, along with a smaller, more discreet window showing a map tucked away at the corner of the screen.

Visual stimuli overload aside, the girl seemed to be completely unphased as she bites into yet another scoopful of yoghurt before setting the tub next to her white keyboard, as if this were a scene she’s had to see countless times now.

It’s a routine, a well rehearsed routine that the girl effortlessly goes through the motions of daily. The fate matrix is ever in need of use and she, the center of it all, was more than happy to take control.

That is, after all, the will of her late mother... the previous Alice and goddess of the fate matrix. It is simply her duty to carry on in her legacy. And as per her duty, she begins to spin the wheel of fate, clicking on the very first icon that boots up the fate matrix’s tool assistant. A bright blue pop up appears that the girl drags to the side, and text begins to appear.

Good morning, Alice. Today is a day of destined meetings. I would suggest working on getting soul mates together for the day.

Internally, Illya is delighted. Soul mates were one of her favorite types of work to focus on... and though they were rarely ever more urgent than other types of assignments like accident prevention, weather management or economic balance, it was one that often brought her a great amount of joy.

After all, what was sweeter than nudging two souls who were meant for each other closer? It was the very concept of soul mates, and the tales of the red thread of fate after all, that drew her mother into the concept of fate and caused her to develop the fate matrix.

A soft smile graces her features, and she moves her cursor to click on the second icon, which loads for a second before breaking apart into smaller, glowing dots that scatter across the map - with two dots that indicated soul mates being linked by a dotted line.

Time to get to work!

01:46pm

When Illya clicked on the glowing two red dots upon the map, she hadn’t expected to be shown live footage of the two targets in the very same room.

It’s not uncommon for soul mates to have already met each other, or even be familiar with one another already despite not having made their feelings for each other known yet... but they were cases that were, in Illya’s experience, a little more difficult to work on.

It was easy to nudge two strangers in the same direction or plant small, innocuous thoughts that would help draw two acquaintances into wanting to spend more time with their soul mate. It was far more difficult to convince stubborn people who have, despite many fateful circumstances, refused to confess their feelings to the object of their confession.

After all, the fate matrix was capable of many things - but controlling or taking over the will of people was not one of them.

Illya has convinced two stubborn souls to finally open up in the past though, she was certain she could do so again - she did so with the likes of the two childhood friends, Moth’ir and Thancred... a case which she would never in a million years soon forget... or the infuriatingly obstinate refusal of a pink haired miqo’te girl to confess to her close friend and personal trainer, Haurchefant Greystone... who had been more than obvious with his flirtations for years.

Alice, you have yet to eat your lunch. A quick break is highly suggested.

The tool assistant sends a reminder through a text in it’s window, which Illya is swift to ignore. She can eat once she’s done with this case.

She watched through the monitor as the pair sat on the couch, a girl with straight cut bangs and piercing red eyes lounging lazily with her back propped against the arm rest and her legs laid over her taller, lankier male friend, who seemed to be frustrated at the girl’s refusal to pay him any attention.

“Why invite me over if you’re just going to play your game?”

“Hmph! Says the guy who invited me over to his place only to kick me out halfway through because some of his friends were going to pay him a surprise visit!”

The man lets out a hefty sigh.

“I already apologized for that. And that was over a week ago. Are you seriously still-”

“Yes, yes I am!” Without even looking up from her smartphone, the girl lets out a dramatic huff while admonishing her friend. “I don’t get why you’re so adamant about me not meeting your friends. Why, are you scared they’ll misunderstand and think I’m your girlfriend?”

“That’s- That’s not-”

From the heartrate monitor, Illya can tell that was only part of the reason for his behavior. The true reason, and an explanation that the girl understood full well why he would refuse to tell his friend was written in text in a separate window next to his heartrate monitor.

The girl, Totomi Tomi, or better known by her stage name as Mint, was something of a minor celebrity on the internet. Known for her jovial personality and the many covers of vocaloid songs she posted on her well known eorzeatube page, it wouldn’t be a stretch to call her an idol - even if she wasn’t officially acknowledged or employed as one by some idol management company. Her friend, Estinien, and the object of her very strong feelings towards, had friends who were apparently fans of hers.

It was for that very reason that, for her protection and to spare her the oogling of strangers, that he’d kept his friendship with the young idol a secret from others.

In his eyes, perhaps dating her would be the quickest way to convince his friends to back off... but that would only come after they’d confessed their feelings - which they haven’t.

“That’s not important.” Estinien finally retorts after stumbling after his words for a moment, and Illya has to resist the urge to slam her head against the keyboard.

“Ohhhh... Kay.” Mint rolls her eyes, Illya mirrors the action.

What Illya doesn’t anticipate however, is Estinien’s next words, for as bold and uncharacteristic for an emotionally closed off man such as him.

“Why? Are you disappointed? You almost sound like you want to be known as my girlfriend.”

Mint chokes on her spit, sputtering and gurgling out incomprehensible words until she recovers - but only barely... and now with a dark red blush plastered over her freckled cheeks.

“I-In your dreams, maybe!” Her blatant lie is apparent to all but... the ones who are present in the room. “Besides, I already have someone I like!”

“Oh?” Illya can hear the sheer contempt from her headphones, and she grimaces at the man’s deep frown. “Do tell, who is it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, dunderhead!”

“Tell me. I’m curious.”

“Nope nope nope nope nope noppetty nope! Why’d you think I would ever tell you, huh??”

Mint sticks her tongue out at the man, who scowls deeper and nudges the woman’s legs off of his lap.

“Fine. How about a bet then.”

“What bet?”

The man points to the phone she has in her hands.

“Since you’re so fond of your gacha games, and you’re always bragging about how good your luck is, why don’t we make a bet using your game?”

Snatching the phone out of Mint’s hand despite her protests, Estinien taps on the settings button before clicking on the gacha button, the screen switching to the current limited rate up banner of a popular event character.

“If you get a character of the highest rarity within 50 draws, you have to tell me who your crush is.”

“W-why would I even agree to that?? I’ve been saving my primos for Xi-Ao you know?!”

“I’ll pay for your pulls. It’s a win-win for you that way, no? You get free pulls from the game, I get to know who your crush is if you get a shiny new character.”

Mint pulls back, hesitant and suspicion clear in her eyes, but still enough to hint at consideration.

“And what’s in it for me? What if I do pull a 5 star character?”

After much consideration, Estinien responds once more.

“I’ll let you whale for whatever character you want next on my credit card. And I’ll cosplay with you at the next convention.”

At the condition of his loss set, Mint’s face lights up with pure elation, as she snatches her phone back from her friend with a cheeky grin on her face.

“Deal! You’re so going to lose, long bean! My luck in Genshin Impact’s second to none! I can’t wait to make you cosplay sailor moon!!”

An equally devious smile spreads across the face of Alice, whose hands are swift to pull up another window tab reserved specifically for video game and gambling luck.

She has always admittedly been favorable and gracious in giving out good draws to people who deserve it - the program she has running in the background is testament to that... And she has no doubt in her mind that the fate matrix has been generous in it’s givings to Mint, if her boastings are anything to go by.

Mint must thusly, be a good person.... and she deserves a fate more fulfilling than virtual characters on a screen.

The girl must truly feel confident in herself, as she hits the draw x10 button without a single hesitation.

Illya begins typing the code into the new window, and sympathy wells in her heart as she hears Mint huff in minor disappointment.

“Only one 4 star? Eh, it’s just a fluke, I have 40 more pulls and I’m close to soft pity too!”

“Good luck.” Estinien chuckles mockingly, and Mint lets out a growl before pressing on the draw x10 button again.

Nothing. The third ten pull is no better - with nothing but a single 4 star weapon to show for her efforts. Mint is evidently getting more nervous as her finger shakes, pressing down on the button that will decide her fate for the fourth time.

She was so certain she’d get a 5 star by now - she normally gets what she wants within the first thirsty pulls, and it’s a normal occurrence to even pull multiple 5 stars within the same roll... So... why?

Her 40th pull ends with two 4 star characters, a sight better than the ones before... a sign of Illya’s pity on her... but still not a condition for her win.

“Oh, someone’s getting nervous.” Estinien smirks, “You’re on your last pull away from telling me who you have a crush on.”

“H-hah! That’s where you’re wrong!” Mint exclaims, jabbing a finger at him. “The chances of getting a 5 star increases with each pull, so i’m almost a hundred percent certain I’ll get one this time!”

Mint’s heartrate monitor is going off the charts, and Illya has to intervene by lowering her vitals enough so she wouldn’t pass out from sheer nervousness. It does little to hide it from Estinien, however, who could only relish every second of Mint’s rapidly darkening blush as she finally taps on the draw x10 button one final time.

The shooting star across the screen flickers, before bursting into a shade of pink that has Mint leaning back with mouth agape, a mixture of sheer shock and terror on her expression.

Hopelessness is all she feels as she taps, taps and taps, and the roll summary page shows naught but a single Benny - the unluckiest character in the game, grinning widely at her.

“Well, well, well. Looks like I won.” Estinien sounds way too casual and smug, unaware of the monumentally immense amount of bad fortune that had just befallen his friends. “As per our deal, you’re going to have to tell me who your crush is.”

Illya feels sorry for her meddling, and she makes a mental note to herself to bless Mint’s future rolls with as many of the highest rarity characters she could possibly afford to give without breaking the laws of probability too much... but when Mint finally breaks out of her stutter and sets her phone down on her lap, hands grasping so tightly at the hem of her skirt that her knuckles turned white, the girl knew that she’d dealt the woman a hand far kinder than if she had not.

“I-It’s...... It’s you, okay?”

07:32pm

Alice it is time for dinner. The curry will get cold if you leave it out for too long.

Illya’s tendency to ignore the tool assistant in regards to her own wellbeing was concerning, but not an anomaly. In fact, it was far more rare for the text in the pop up to be spared more than a single second’s glance from her.

Whether it was reminders for her to eat, for her to sleep early, to hydrate or to stretch after hours hunched over her keyboard in front of glaringly bright monitors for a good whole of her day, the tool assistant’s well meaning messages would always go ignored.

It’s a natural part of it’s program, Illya tells herself, as she filters through lists of finished cases before moving on to pending ones. Much like the fate matrix, that ran on a code that was, in admittance, far more complex than even she could fully comprehend... the tool assistant ran on code. It was an artificial intelligence her mother had created during her last few months of life, something that, according to the note left in the hard drive of the fate matrix, would help Illya better slip into her role as adjudicator of fate.

She’d remembered when she first awoke in this room and on the bed, not having any recollection of how she’d even arrived in the first place. The momentary panic and confusion had been replaced with a sense of obligation... of duty and honor when she booted up the computer for the first time to be greeted with the words from the tool assistant - as well as a lengthy message from her late mother.

We who do not belong to the realm of mortals... we who possess the blood of fate. We bear the burden of watching over the world and making sure that it is a safer, happier, better place for everyone. Only you alone can take possession of the fate matrix in my stead, and I pray you’ll forgive me for not being able to say goodbye to you in person.

Family meant the world to Illya, it has ever been that way. She spent a good amount of her childhood in the company of her parents, with little understanding of the world beneath. She had no concept of the idea of fate, of how destiny was dealt... only that her mother had a significant role to play, and that her time with her family was soon to be cut short by a crippling, unkind illness that not even the fate matrix could undo.

Illya’s never tried stepping out of her room before. She has always assumed that it exists in some kind of void or overworld that overlooked the mortal realm. It mattered not, really... The only thing important was that mother had left this place behind, and wanted her only daughter to inherit her role as Alice.

It was with that responsibility in mind that drove Illya to stay seated in front of the monitors for as long as she has.

Time is no longer being a concept, the rising and falling of the sun no longer visible to her eyes aside from a arbitrary number on the clock that served more as a timer for how long she has left to work until exhaustion would consume her.

Do you not wonder what it’s like to have friends, Alice?

Recently, however the tool assistant has been sending her more and more pointless questions... questions that went far beyond the daily self-maintenance reminders that she could understand her mother programming in for her wellbeing, questions aimed to be poignant and was targeted to making her feel more isolated and alone than it did help. It was bordering on annoyance.

You could leave this room any time you wanted.

And why would she do that? She murmured to herself as she typed in code to program a heavy storm, forcing a raven haired lalafellin man to offer his umbrella to his soul mate who had been stranded under a lone busstop - a pink haired woman with olive green eyes who seemed utterly smitten with him upon first sight.

Her purpose was here, to take control of the fate matrix, to grant happy memories, to save lives, to fulfill wishes and dreams. There can be no greater and heavier responsibility to bear in the world.

Truthfully, the reason why Illya stayed at first had solely because of her mother’s wishes... But now, it was more than that.

Because the idea of separating herself from the fate matrix... and not being able to grant the kindness of fate that so many people in the world deserved... it was a pain that was worth her own sense of self.

Are you not lonely? Do you not want someone to love you?

Why did it matter if she was lonely? The envy and curiosity she feels upon watching a group of friends hanging out together is nothing in comparison to the pain mortals felt from a love unrequited, or a loved one losing their life.

She taps furiously on a historian with bright red hair and eyes, forcing him to get a wardrobe malfunction that would push him to visit a tailor where an impish lalafellin fashion designer with snow white freckles awaited him with choice words of ridicule. She tips over a telephone pole that causes two surf shop co-owners who were on a road trip to park by the roadside so that they may witness a falling star, wishes made leading to their confession. She painstakingly guides a woman with silver hair and golden yellow eyes towards a drycleaner, where she initiates easy banter with a man who she later finds out was her old schoolmate.

Juno and Ysayle, Bianca and Varis, Niqesse and Zenos, Nowi and June. She remembers the soul mates she pushes together by name, and treasures the happiness they are sure to feel from their memories as if they were her own.

Detached from their world she may be, it is through the fate matrix that she can experience a sliver of their joy and love... even if it is for a fleeting moment before she must move on to the next.

11:17pm

One more assignment, she tells herself, eyes bloodshot and fingers sore from typing. One more case and she’ll eat before going to bed. She has done much for the day as it is... but she cannot rest until she’s closed one particular case that has her vexed for the entire day.

A pair of glowing purple dots that has been plastered on the map since morning has her thoroughly vexed... because for some reason or another, she cannot seem to gather information on one half of the pair.

She’s able to view the other half just fine - a dashing young man who seemed to be a senior in university despite his age, having skipped two grades due to his academic prowess. He is incredibly gifted, possessing not only of superior intellect but also an artistic hand and charismatic demeanor that makes him quite popular at his school.

But no matter how much she clicked on the other purple dot, or made futile attempts to manually search for data on his other half, nothing would show up. No windows, no tabs... What was even more perplexing was that the dot hadn’t moved on the map at all.

Illya had paid especially close attention to the purple dots ever since she’d found this anomaly in the fate matrix... she was certain she would have noted movement if there had been any at all.

But whereas the icon of the boy had understandably been moving throughout the city of Sharlayan, the icon of his mysterious other half hadn’t, laying stagnant on a singular point of the map in the middle of what appeared to be an old apartment complex.

It was as if his soul mate just... didn’t exist at all.

The boy didn’t have any romantic feelings for anyone, nor did it seem like there was anyone at his school that would have an attachment to him that extended beyond admiration or a short-term attraction, which she’s long learned to tell apart from genuine love. If the tool assistant had a text saying that her target simply did not have a soul mate at all, she’d have been inclined to believe it.

But the other purple dot that connected to his does not lie. If he didn’t have a soul mate, his icon wouldn’t be connected to the other. Her tool assistant wouldn’t have told her, very deliberately she may add, that he did in fact have a soul mate and that it was imperative for her to unite them.

But how was she to make two people meet when she could not even tell who the other was? It was the first time Illya’s wondered if there was even any point to her efforts.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, then. It may be unnatural for a piece of note to fall from the sky, but it was perhaps her final chance to get the boy to meet his soul mate before the opportunity would be lost forever.

Assignments from her pending window are known to disappear all of a sudden, and soul mates who were attached and at their prime for a fated meeting for the moment often times disappear from the map entirely... a tragedy as a result to the slipping of time that the fate matrix cannot rectify... and she’d be damned if she let it happen to this case just because of a simple glitch.

The boy, Alphinaud Leveilleur, star student of the nation’s most prestigious academy, had been walking home from his late night seminars. His position was unnervingly close to where his soul mate is, and since she could not think of any way she could naturally nudge him in the direction of the apartment complex, she writes a note posing as his soul mate and drops it from the sky.

“W-what in the twelve?”

The boy catches it in mid-air, looking at the haphazardly scribbled words on the paper.

PLEASE HELP ME. I’M BEING HELD AGAINST MY WILL. I’M BEING TRAPPED AT _______________

She made the handwriting disorderly intentionally... just to sell the idea of a person being trapped better, of course. She’d even slathered on a small smudge of blood on the corner of the note to make it more convincing... and it seemed to have done the trick as the boy widens his navy blue eyes in alarm, head turned up in the direction of the apartment complex he stood next to.

Illya can tell he has his doubts, and she doesn’t blame him... It’s suspicious enough that the call for help would just so conveniently fall towards him as he was walking past... but he’s never known any criminal activity to have taken place in that apartment complex - Sharlayan is relatively safe compared to it’s neighbor, Mor Dhona.

A few simple thoughts however, might just do the trick into getting him to spring into action.

Injecting into his mind, Illya types out frantically into the text box for thought processing.

What if this is real? What if there really is someone in need of rescuing and I just walked by without helping them? What if they appeared on the news tomorrow? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. What if... what if this note really is fate?

She’s preying on his upright and morally upstanding character, she knows that... and it never feels good to take advantage of a objectively good person’s kindness... But her determination to grant him lifelong happiness wins as she watches through the live feed the as the boy clutches onto the note close to his chest and begins to run into the carpark of the apartment complex before heading inside.

Zooming into the map, she sees that her target is taking the lift up to the highest floor, his heartrate skyrocketing at an alarming pace as she panics for a moment and has to manually adjust it back down. He’s nervous... and she must admit that she is too.

When he leaves the lift, his footsteps are unsteady and hesitant... But a few more encouraging thoughts was enough to get him to push forward until he’s standing in front of a door - the only door on the last floor of the complex, as it would happen.

Illya tries to look into the room, but the window that pops up is but a single black screen that has her sighing. No matter. The fact that there even was a window in the first place is progress.

She’s gotten this far into leading him here... all he has to do is open the door where his other half is sure to be on the other side.

The boy tries to twist open the door knob, the metal rattlingly noisily in Illya’s headphones. But it doesn’t budge or give way.

Figures that it’d be locked. How is she supposed to lead him inside? She can’t ring the doorbell because, for as odd as it is, there is none... and she cannot pull up any information on his soul mate, let alone inject into thoughts into their head to open the door. It’s far too suspicious to drop the key to the door right in front of him.

With each second that passes, it seemed like the boy was letting his doubts begin to sway his decision to stay more and more... and Illya’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach when she sees the boy begin to step away from the door and reaching into his bag for his phone, a thought bubble popping up above him.

I should call the police, instead...

“No! You mustn’t!” Illya yells out by instinct.

“Huh???” the boy’s eyes widen once more, and to Illya’s utter confusion, he bolts forward and is now banging his fist against the door. “Hello?! Are you okay?! If you’re in there and you need help, please say something again!”

He must’ve heard a voice.... Illya mused, eyes glistening with intrigue... her voice. Did her mic turn on by accident? Or perhaps she’d projected her voice onto the door out of instinct. She wouldn’t be surprised if she did... but the most important thing is that it worked, and it got the boy to stay.

“Y-yes! I’m... I’m in here!” Illya responds, intentionally letting out sobs into her microphone this time, “p-please help me... I-I’m really hurt and I don’t know when they’ll get back!”

Alphinaud’s heartrate is beating faster than it’s ever had before... and Illya makes no attempts to lower it as she watches the boy grit his teeth and set his bookbag down.

“A-alright! Stand back! I’ll try to knock the door down!”

Good thinking, Illya hums to herself in silence. The door seems old and rickety on its own... unless his soul mate has very deliberately barricaded the inside, there shouldn’t be any reason why he’d not be able to knock it down.

The boy begins to slam his torso into the door, pulling himself back before once more rushing into the door, and the sound of banging fills Illya’s headphones. It’s oddly loud and deafening... but she makes no attempts to lower her volume as she grips the edge of her keyboard in anticipation.

“Don’t worry miss! Just a bit more! I’ll get you out, I promise!”

His sincerity touches her... and though it is wholly unnecessary, Illya is moved to speak into the mic once more... and her words causes a surge of renewed energy to flow through him.

“Yes! I believe in you! I’m waiting!”

Illya has never known what the outside of her room looked like... nor the time or space that occupied it. It was never necessary, she’d convinced herself... She was simply content with watching the outside world through the lens of the fate matrix while playing the ultimate puppet master.

She has never smelled the outside air, never seen the light of the sun, never once touched the hands of another... not since she arrived here.

When the door to her room clattered noisily onto the ground, so loudly that she could not chalk it up to being a result of the projection in her headphone, the girl spun around... and stared with wide, bewildered and confused eyes at the boy in front of her - clear without the pixels of the screen obscuring him... clear and oh so very real.

Beads of sweat trickling down his brows from exertion... his usually neat fitting uniform disheveled from strain...

And in his clear blue eyes was the reflection of herself, staring back at her as if they were a window to her future.

“Y-you.... you are....?”

The tool assistant of the fate matrix sends another text, which goes unread and ignored by Alice once again.

You watch over the fate of others. But even you aren’t immune to the hands of fate.

#ffxiv #final fantasxy xiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #we've come so far #fanfic #mine #lots of cameos and mentions of friends but i'm not gonna list em all out here kek #holy fuck this turned out longer than i expected #and i already had to cut down a lot of this fic!!!#Like... i planned to expand each friend ship into their own dedicated segment but #it got too detailed and bleh

23 notes · View notes

noritoshiikamo · 3 years

Text

driver’s license

cause you said forever, now I drive alone passed your street [au where suna is a doctor specialized in memory removal and his last patient of the day is his ex]

pairing: suna rintarou + fem!reader genre: pain, angst, doctor!suna + patient!reader tags//warning: medical procedure of mind erasing, slight suicide ideation, alcohol abuse note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. the songs made me brawled i had to write something about it and i just so happened to finish haikyuu

“it’s odd,” he looked up from the computer screen, osamu approached him pointing to the screen, the last name listed in the appointment schedule under dr suna rintarou. please don’t say it please don’t say anything, he begged silently in his head. “she kinda has her name. haven’t heard her name in ages,” osamu shrugged, grabbing his next patient’s files, “want to get lunch later?” the doctor popped in another stick of gum, leaving before suna could even said a word.

funny that osamu said that. that is his girlfriend. he moved the cursor and clicked at the name. the birthplace, the date, her eye colour, the address and her number; it matches everything he ever memorized of her. except they are no longer together. it has been a month since their breakup.

she’s an architect. not by choice but she likes art. she’s talented and had once held an art show during school’s open day where they met. she didn’t draw him until they started dating, but she had known some of his close friends who was the subject of her drawings. her parents disproved of her ambitious and to compromise, she agreed to take architectural instead. she stopped drawing completely and suna was the only person in japan that has the largest collection of her paintings stuffed in boxes and behind shelves.

suna rintarou has been a doctor in inarizaki institute for 5 years now. inarizaki institute was different from others. it was the only medical institution that had successfully developed a procedure to remove unwanted memories. he’s one of the qualified doctors for said procedure. he had done the procedure multiple times now, even on his former high school friends and families but never his own girlfriend.

is it him she’s removing from her memories?

he didn’t remember how they broke up. maybe it’s because he was too busy. maybe it’s because she had fallen out of love with him. maybe they just couldn’t stand being in each other’s spaces, but it happened so quickly. she moved out from their apartment, returned when he left to clear out her stuff and he just threw himself back to work.

he did remember how they met. she was the miya brothers’ neighbor. one night when he came to visit them during semester break years ago, they were in their parents’ car with a girl. suna felt like he had recognized but couldn’t think of where or when. “oi, suna,” the window rolled down and asamu called him over, “come in!” despite being weirded out, he entered the back door of the car. “we are teaching our friend how to drive; can you believe it? she’s in our university and can’t drive to save a life.”

“shut the fuck up, atsumu or i’ll run you over,” she muttered angrily as she moved the driving gear.

suna saw the stick going down to reverse instead down further and he immediately reached for her hand. the girl startled at the stranger’s sudden touch. “what the fuck are you d-doing?” she choked up.

“you’re going to reverse into the wall,” he muttered bluntly, pouting his mouth to the gear. grabbing the stick through her hand, he pulled the gear into drive before letting her hand go. the light from the post shined in and he could see red flush on her face as she nodded, “oh okay, yeah d,” she muttered to herself. she started driving. she wasn’t exactly bad; she just needed a lot of practice.

so he came over every day of his semester break and accompanied them as she practiced her driving.

“i can drive you home?” she offered on the last night of his break before he returned to school.

“you don’t have too.”

“i insisted,” to which suna agreed and she glanced back at the miya brothers, “get the fuck out.” despite their disgruntlement and the it’s my mum’s car argument, she managed to kick them out. it was just two of them together. “so, i know we went to same high school and university. how come we have never crossed path before?” she questioned as she took her first turn. she memorized the roads to his home. suna shrugged as he fidgeted with the corner of the jacket’s zipper, “i played volleyball in high school.”

she chuckled, “i’ve never watched any sport matches in high school, sorry. anyway, i’m a last year architectural student by the way. are you taking the same course as osamu?” she glanced at him with a smile. his heart skipped a beat. “y-yeah. i’m in my 5th year of medical.”

“why not volleyball player?”

“i got bored.”

she let a soft exhale and shrugged, “fair enough. i took architectural to please my mother so i’m in no position to give any advice.” she slowed down in front of his house before pulling into a full stop. she pulled into parking and pulled the hand brake. she smiled and fist pumped herself, “did you see that? perfect stop!” suna didn’t expect what was going to happen next. he watched out of control as his arm reached out for her face and pulling her close. what he remembered being in control was asking her boldly whether he could kiss her.

her eyes sparkled and she smiled so widely, “yes.”

so, he did.

she moved into his apartment at the end of his graduation. she didn’t get any job for the first few months while he entered inarizaki institute as medical officer. she took commissions online and waited tables while going to a couple of interviews. he saw a decline in her motivation. when suna returned one night, he found her behind the sofa, drunk out of her mind. what spooked him wasn’t the bottles of whiskey on the floor but the stainless-steel paint scrapper she stabbed the canvas with. she could’ve hurt herself. but, putting her into therapy and pulling strings with some of her friends, she recovered, and he got her an interview. suna watched as she dreadfully shoved her portfolios and files into her bag.

“you’ll be alright,” he reassured, bringing her a cup of coffee. she sighed and pushed her bangs back, “i don’t know, rin. i just don’t feel like getting another rejection after another and then i’ll just spiral into a-” he stopped her rambling with a kiss. he tasted like coffee; she tasted like their toothpaste. every time she tried to pull away, he pulled her back into the kiss and she could feel him laughing against her lips. “this is going to turn into something else,” she whispered between the kiss and he nodded. he was half aroused. she drank the coffee and kissed him one last time. he felt her fingers slipped from his grip. she stood by the door and waved back.

“see you?” she beamed.

“always.”

suna snapped out of his own memory when an alarm blared out. he looked up past the nurses’ counter and saw a patient being pushed out of room B by a couple of nurses. he knew what goes on in that room; he helped in perfecting the procedure. osamu followed soon. he tugged the blue gloves off and shoved them into the yellow bin. “you would not believe who I met in the waiting room?” by the look of his face, osamu already got the feeling that suna already knew. osamu flipped his file and pulled out a pen. he signed the bottom of the pages and dumping it in the completed pile. “did she tell you?” suna asked.

“about?” the other doctor asked.

“the memories she’s erasing. did she tell you?”

osamu shook his head and pocketed his hand in the white coat. “she asked about you. whether you’re around. i said yeah, he’s on call and she just smiled.” suna stood up and grabbed the file. he felt conflicted. osamu stopped the man before he could enter the room. “look man, I’m sorry about whatever happen between you guys and I’m in no position to judge at all.”

suna shrugged and smiled, “it’s fine. we were just ruining each other.” the other man nodded understandingly before excusing himself. suna wanted to move but his feet felt heavy. he was glued down. room B was just a few feet away, but he couldn’t move. this is it. the end of them.

he forced himself into the room. standing in front of the panels and monitor, separating him and her was a one-way mirror. she sat on the seat, talking to the nurses in charge. his heart hurts. she had bangs now framing her face. she’s slight thinner and no longer wore the charm bracelet he gave during their first anniversary. the nurse placed a heart-beat monitor on her thumb and attached a couple more of sensors to her brain, forehead, and neck. his monitor lightened up and spitted out the information. this is it. “doctor, she’s requesting of removal of memory from 2009 up to last month,” the nurse’s words went in his ears and out. it’s of him.

all his own memories flashed through his mind.

the memories of every kisses, hugs, the late nights and the earliest of days, the coffees, the spilled paints. memories of every tear he ever wiped and for ever meals she had ever cooked. memories of all the paints of him that she had gifted to him and every night she drove down his streets. for every missed calls and unread texts. the way she touched him and the way she made him felt. he felt suffocated.

how could he ever love someone else?

“everything is accordingly. you may press the start, doctor.”

he looked at the flashing button and back to her. she was looking right at him. she might not see him, but she is looking straight at him and she looked so beautiful. a small smile appeared on her lips as her fingers fidgeted nervously. he felt tears prickling his eyes. his fingers brushed against the button and he slowly pressed it.

it took them 7 years to build this much of memories together and it took him 3 minutes to erase it clean from her mind.

she was drowsy and she had tears running down her face. the nurses rushed in after the red light disappeared and green light beamed. the alarm rang. another memory successfully. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” he heard her from the opened door. shutting off the machine, he immediately rushed out for the door, feared that he might bumped into her and lost it. he hid his shaking hands in his pocket and gritted his teeth.

“doctor?”

he stopped. the world stopped spinning and he felt lightheaded. the way she called for him didn’t change, the tone and the pronunciation were the same. it was always melodious yet painful. he turned around to see her being wheelchaired out of the room by the nurse. her eyes were slightly red, and her nose were puffy. the nurse passed her a cup of water. she smiled politely, thanking her and took the cup in her hand. she took a sip, coughing at the coldness of the water down her dried throat. it’s the side effect of the procedure.

“have we met before?” she asked, innocently.

suna shook his head and smiled weakly, “no, we haven’t.” he turned to the nurse and nodded. before the nurse could ushered her away, she called him out again.

with a smile on her face, she waved goodbye, “see you, doctor?”

“always.”

111 notes · View notes

insfiringyou · 3 years

Text

BTS - Going Solo (Part One) - Jimin x Ara

Contains: Angst. *Potential trigger warning for descriptions of panic attacks*

Set a few months following their scene in ‘Private Moments’, Ara is faced with a decision which will change the course of her future.

(Part Two will be uploaded soon, after a few fics focusing on some of the other members.)

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Content below the cut

‘Jimin,

We just spoke, and you asked if I was happy. I think I am. At least most days.’

Ara typed slowly. Her nails had just been manicured and were longer than she was used to. The sound of acrylics against the keyboard rang through the small hotel room.

‘When I’m with you I can feel really happy. You can be so sweet and loving and I appreciate you always check up on me - to make sure I’m okay. Touring is hard. You know it better than anybody else, and you tried to prepare me for it.’

She gave a soft sigh, knowing no one else would hear. The words were spilling out of her fingers before her brain had time to catch up, though she knew based on experience she would eventually work out what she was trying to say. The room was dark and the white glow from the word document was starting to make her eyes water. The contact lenses had been in all day and were getting on her nerves. Still, she persevered. She could remove them once she had finished.

‘I’ve been asked to renew my contract.’

She stopped typing, heart thudding, and realised she felt scared. Her hand moved automatically to her stomach and she exhaled slowly before taking a deep, drawn out breath. She had been practicing and it had gotten easier. At first she would panic, and find her chest rising and falling like crazy, on the verge of hyperventilation, but soon she learned the trick; it was her stomach which was supposed to be moving, not her chest. Her cheeks were a little warm and she knew it was shame she was feeling, not embarrassment. She hadn’t told him yet, despite having known for over a week. Tentatively, she continued, fingers picking up speed as she became used to the sensation of the new nails.

‘You remember me telling you the first was on a trial basis, based on sales. Well - whatever target they set for us, we must have hit it. Even you have noticed the increase in publicity lately...the T.V appearances. They’ve asked me to film a reality show. I don’t know what they’re expecting.’

Her brow furrowed, wondering...

‘I guess they might have asked you too?’

The laptop stayed silent for a long time and she rested her hands against the small, cheap desk as she gazed at the screen. Her mind suddenly seemed blank and she felt stupid. She would never send the document to Jimin, just as she hadn’t sent the ones she had written before; three month’s worth of unopened, worthless ramblings saved in some obscure folder on her desktop, trapped in the harddrive somewhere between her acoustic recordings and photographs of hairstyles she had saved from Pinterest. She often wondered why she even bothered to save them. Her counsellor had told her, time and time again, that keeping a diary would be helpful. She could record her mood swings and track her periods, along with keeping count of what she ate; wholegrains made her bloated, red food colourings brought out a rash. She sometimes worried she might be lactose intolerant, though could handle it in coffee. That type of thing. She kept it up at first; bashfully bringing the sparkly diary into the small office she visited once a month and reciting what she had written to the man opposite. He would nod sympathetically as she spoke, making a comment from time to time; asking how she felt about what she had put. But the company was paying him to do this; all the girls went, and she sometimes wondered if it was the food diary he was really interested in. If her manager was keeping track, making sure she and the other members were not overdoing it on the full-fat salad dressing and milky lattes.

The diary entries began to dwindle and, not long after her last week-long visit back to Seoul, the meaningless letters on her laptop started. They were usually addressed to Jimin, though she had written several to her father and one to her brother. She wasn’t good with words; she had been told that often enough at school when she would have to read out loud from the book of the week in Literature, or come up with an argument in Business Studies. Her mouth would stumble and she’d turn red, both ashamed and humiliated, until the teacher inevitably took pity on her and told her to sit back down. Writing in private was much easier, especially when she knew no one but her would see.

‘I don’t know how to feel.’

The cursor hovered, blinking at the end of the last line. There was a heavy knock at the door and Ara jumped, hands automatically reaching for the laptop lid, before a familiar female voice called out.

“Ara? Are you coming?”

She quickly gathered herself, clicking the save icon at the top of the screen. The company had arranged a group meal in the restaurant downstairs, though she had forgotten, her mind distracted by more pressing thoughts.

“In a minute…I just need to change my lenses.” She called back, moving her finger against the touchpad as a pop-up appeared. She selected the save button once more, mouth twisting as she read the title in the little window: ‘Untitled #12.’ She wondered if she would ever get around to renaming them properly.

***

“Your hair has so much texture. I wish mine were thicker.”

Ara murmured in reply before catching the young stylist’s reflection in the mirror and realising how rude she must have sounded. Da-eun had come to the company some months before and was undeniably sweet. Too sweet, Ara sometimes thought, for the business she was in. The other makeup artists and hairdressers loved to keep one ear to the wall, in case there was a chance of promotion or, she rather cynically suspected, a way to increase their pay by selling gossip, but Da-eun didn’t seem like that. At least not yet.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ara smiled into the glass at the figure behind her. “I’m glad I have you to do it for me. The roots are a nightmare!”

Da-eun returned the smile and seemed to relax, but a curious expression still played on her features as she ran the straightener gently across the dyed tips of hair. “Are you tired?”

“I didn’t get much sleep.” Ara confirmed, briefly closing her eyes. Da-eun knew not to press her, but she couldn’t help but worry the younger woman might know more than she was letting on. They had shared hotel rooms in the past and, perhaps it was the stylist's instinct, used to paying close attention to detail, but she always seemed to tell when something was amiss. It was frustrating sometimes.

“I looked at the schedule. You’re not going on set until last so you’ll have time to rest before you go out.” Da-eun murmured helpfully. Ara nodded, relieved. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that Da-eun should quit while she could; while she was still young and hopeful and kind.

“I just don’t have the energy right now…” Ara sighed as she felt her hair being released. The younger woman finished working the ends and unplugged the device from the dressing room table.

“Did you sign the contract yet?”

Her voice was inquisitive and a little optimistic. Ara had never asked, but there was always the chance that Da-eun’s contract was somehow tied to her own; that if the group were to disband, she might lose her job. Ara shook her head lightly.

“No.”

Da-eun raised an eyebrow. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“I just haven’t had time to read it properly.” She said, truthfully. “It’s come around sooner than I thought…”

The stylist moved forward, reaching for the set of hairbrushes on the counter, before selecting the biggest. She teased through the ends of hair with her short fingers before brushing lightly along the bleached roots, smoothing the locks.

“There’s been rumours.” The younger woman said, voice suddenly low as though she were worried about being overheard. A thick curtain set apart the dressing room from the photography studio, but it was always possible someone was listening.

Ara blinked, tensing a little. “What?”

Da-eun smiled gently. “That you’re making a solo album.”

“Oh…” The older woman wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this news took her by surprise. “I wasn’t planning on it.” She shrugged.

“That’s a relief.” Da-eun beamed with a small laugh. “I’m looking forward to going home soon. Aren’t you?”

Ara opened her mouth to speak, not sure what she was going to say, but the curtain beside them drew apart suddenly; startling them both.

“Oh! Costume change…” Da-eun exclaimed, setting down the brush and turning to accommodate the older woman who had just entered. Mimi was a year older than Ara and usually less prone to accidents, but the leather strap on her camisole suggested a wardrobe malfunction which needed attending to at once.

“Sorry to interrupt…” The other woman murmured apologetically, gesturing to Da-eun. “Could you fix this for me?”

“Sure.” She nodded, stepping away.

Ara’s phone had vibrated against her thigh twenty minutes before but she hadn’t wanted to risk opening the text, especially with someone standing over her shoulder. As Da-eun seated Mimi in the rotating chair on the opposite side of the room to take a look at her costume, Ara took the moment to slip the device from her pocket and flick through the recent notifications. Unsurprisingly, it had been Jimin who had texted and she read the sentence a couple of times before returning it to her pocket.

‘Two more weeks. I’m looking forward to seeing you. It’s been too long.’

***

Ara sipped from the glass, the cool water clearing her throat and offering a much needed refreshment from the events of the day. Her voice had become raspy from singing, but luckily she didn’t need it to type.

‘Jimin,

I was cleaning my closet before we went on tour and found the dress I was wearing on the night we met.’

She found herself smiling, a little longingly, at the memory, a strange anecdote coming to mind.

‘It still has a Daiquiri stain on the hem and it’s too big for me now. I don’t know why I’m saving it.’

The thought made her sad, somehow.

‘I wonder if you remember that night as clearly as I do. I didn’t want to leave. I knew you were with someone else, but I didn’t care.’

A deep frown played on her otherwise gentle features.

‘Does that make me a bad person?’

It wasn’t until she read the line back, she realised the thought had never occurred to her before. Not once in five years. She wondered why it suddenly seemed to matter. With a sigh, she continued, committing her trail of thoughts to the page.

‘You told me it was over the next time we met, and I believed you, but part of me wondered if you’d go back to her, once you knew how inexperienced I was. I guess I know how you feel sometimes. The whole thing has taken me by surprise as well. I never felt like anyone would want me.’

Her chest ached as she typed the final sentence; overwhelmed by emotion. It was true that the compliments and flirty glances she often received were met with an automatic but fleeting sense of glee. It felt novel, after so long of feeling like she didn’t deserve it. It sometimes still felt that way; back in the hotel room, after the cheers of the crowd had faded. She had brought the subject up with her company counsellor who had laughed it off, explaining that everyone suffered with imposter syndrome from time to time; she wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. On the matter of flirting, she had kept that one to herself. It felt too personal and she was sure it would come across as vain. Occasionally it was unwarranted; the older mens’ eyes moving down her legs when she took to the stage in a short skirt back in Seoul, or the way she jumped in alarm when someone once slipped their hand down the back of her jeans while she stood tightly packed in an elevator in Osaka. But other times she found her heart racing and stomach churning; not thinking of Jimin until she tucked herself in bed at night. A pretty, tall waitress brushing her hand as she handed over the bill in a Thai restaurant, or the hotel doorman who had helped her move her luggage earlier in the week and smiled kindly at her in the lobby. She knew Jimin, of all people, would understand. She had seen the way he played the audience, like he had a secret to share with them all. Early in their relationship it had made her crazy; the way he seemed to flirt with anyone he came into contact with, often without even realising. But now the tables had turned. He would understand; but she wasn’t sure he would accept it.

She glanced a warily at the shadowy corner of the room where an oversized bouquet of red roses sat on the dresser. They had arrived earlier to the hotel room, along with a postcard sized letter from her manager. He had been unable to make the trip to Taiwan but was waiting for her in Tokyo; the contract was ready, whenever she was ready to sign. The flowers seemed like a bribe; the gesture leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She wondered if the other two girls had received any, or if the privilege was all hers.

The sound of her ringtone, a chirpy, summer tune, alerted her to the fact that an hour had already passed and it was getting late. She quickly swiped the screen and raised it to her ear, not wanting to wake up the neighbours.

“Hello?”

There was a pause before Jimin spoke. “How are you?”

“Good.” She squinted at her watch with a frown. “What time is it there?”

“2am.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” She asked, a little baffled. He hadn’t called her this late in a while.

“I only just got in. There was a company dinner.” He explained. “What are you up to?”

She hesitated. “Just thinking.”

He laughed, softly mocking her. “Just thinking?”

She shook her head, dismissing it. “Oh, it’s nothing…I was drying my hair.” She lied, fingering the ends of the bone-dry locks in an automatic response. “Da-eun dyed the tips purple for the photoshoot.”

“I liked the pink.” He groaned, a little sulkily.

“They thought purple would fit better with the concept photos.” She mumbled deflatedly. “It’s not really my choice.”

“You could change it when you come home.” He said hopefully. She heard the flirtatious grin in his voice and could picture his smile on the other end. “They can’t do anything about it once your contract has ended.”

“Maybe.”

She sounded distant and he noticed the change at once.

“Are you okay?”

She closed her eyes tightly, temporarily blocking out the glare from the laptop screen. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”

“Did you take a look at the brochures I emailed you?”

“I haven’t had time. I’m sure whatever you pick will be fine.” She knew she sounded a little irritated but was unable to mask it. The weight of the day suddenly seemed to dawn on her and she wanted nothing more than to go to bed. The last thing she wanted to talk about was moving house.

“I’d really like you to help.” He argued lightly. “There’s a three bedroom going for sale on the Han River. Yoongi says it’s a good deal.”

Ara sighed. “I’m sure he’s right.”

A pause.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I wish you’d stop asking.” She pleaded, feeling on the verge of tears. Jimin seemed to hear the tremor in her voice and thought for a long moment before he spoke, tentatively.

“Maybe you should ask the doctor to change your medication again.”

Ara clutched the phone tightly. “It’s fine.” She tried to smile, hoping it would show in her voice. “I’m feeling much better, just tired.”

“Is that a side effect?”

He sounded concerned and she nodded to herself, though she knew full well she hadn’t taken the time to read the little leaflet properly. “Probably. Maybe I just need some sleep.”

“Okay.” He agreed, though she sensed his trepidation. “I’d better go then.”

He sounded disappointed and Ara felt guilty once more. “I’m sorry Jimin.” She apologised softly. “It really was nice that you called. It’s just these time zones…”

“I understand.”

She wondered if he did. Her eyes felt damp beneath her heavy, false eyelashes, making them itch. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

***

She had forgotten her contact lenses and had to rummage through her Birkin to retrieve her reading glasses. They felt strange on her nose and she wondered how she had ever made it through high school wearing them. At least she had been given a moment’s peace to read through the contract. The office overlooked Ueno Station and the rush of traffic below would be too distracting had someone also been watching her.

‘As a permanent member of the label you should not bring the company into disrepute…’

She read carefully, though the paperwork seemed much larger than the last one she had signed. Some of the phrases looked familiar, such as the declaration of her dedication to being a ‘brand ambassador’, but others were definitely new. Her gaze hovered over one line:

‘...should not jeopardize future success…not limited to personal relationships, controversial thought or opinion including strong ties to political associations, ideologies or groups.’

She expected no less, particularly after Mimi was caught on camera reading a Betty Friedan book. The first part was more complicated and she wondered if Jimin’s management had asked something similar of him.

With a sigh, she continued down the page, skimming the text now but picking up on key words which seemed important, ‘Maintain a visible and transparent social media presence….Agree to the screening and management of said accounts with the view of protecting our artists and their wellbeing.’

By the time she reached the end, it did not seem to matter and there was a strange comfort in realising this. The past three years had been carefully planned, organised, operated; her future written for her from the moment she stepped foot on stage for the first time. The moments of quiet between shows, or during her increasingly short stays back in Seoul, only seemed to complicate things further. Her thoughts were a mess whenever she stopped to breathe for a moment, and maybe it was easier to shut them off altogether; to give over all control and decision-making to someone else than to try and deal with them all herself.

The fountain pen was heavier than she expected as she picked it off the table. It had the company brand embossed on the side in gold-leaf which seemed to reflect the fading light outside as the sun set below the concrete structure of the art museum to the West. Slowly, she signed her name on the final page; the ink blotting a little as she moved aside the bound file and repeated the motion on the second copy. The second attempt was neater as she grew used to the feel of the pen in her hand. There was a knack to it; just like many of the things she had grown to learn in her adult life; underwear should be washed on the delicate cycle, t-shirts should be turned inside out before they are ironed, glasses should not be left in the sink too long, should they smash. She had an assistant to do those things now, and her clothes were mostly dry cleaned these days.

She neatened the piles of paper and put the lid back on the pen, so the ink wouldn’t dry. The first contract had been signed in black Biro, which hadn’t come with such demands. Reaching down, she picked up her black handbag and carefully folded her personal copy, slipping it between her lipstick and glasses case before adding the pen. She had probably paid for it anyway; in her own way. The green light on her phone was blinking and she slid it from the pouch in the lining. The text had arrived while she was in the meeting, which is why she hadn’t heard her phone go off. Her thumb paused over the messenger button for a moment, before she tapped the screen lightly; Jimin’s name and picture coming into view in the little window above the text.

‘One more week! :)’

***

Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook

& Our full masterlist of fics and original art can be found here

& Our masterlist of preferences/most likely to/quizzes and fun stuff is here

You can support us by buying admins a coffee here (if you wish). :)

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cudan2 · 4 years

Text

What Do You Meme?

Spring Break Shadowing Part 3

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 1,046

Summary: It’s day three of shadowing and you’re eating lunch alone, or that’s what is seems like at first until Doctor Cullen joins you.

A/N: I didn’t plan on writing for this headcanon but needed filler between day 2 and 4.

Anyways, this is #16 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

There’s the fading sound of ambulance sirens in the background and quiet chatter around you as you’re eating lunch, nestled away in a corner of the cafeteria on the second floor of the hospital. Your hands hover over the keyboard of your laptop, the screen displaying the stark white of a blank document. Ok, maybe there was less eating and more working, but what better time to work on your personal statement than in the hospital?

In a moment of sheer brilliance, your fingers fly across the keyboard to type down a sentence that popped into your head. You hit the period and look back at it.

It’s not good.

The blinking cursor mocks you as you grudgingly hold down the backspace button in defeat. A personal statement is not supposed to be this hard, yet writing about why you’re choosing to go to medical school is starting to feel like the most difficult thing you would write in your life. You blindly grab your water to take a sip, eyes still glued to the document in front of you.

“What happened to eating lunch?”

You choke on the water in surprise. Several violent coughs escape past your lips as you gasp for air. Needless to say, you weren’t expecting anyone to talk to you here after eating lunch alone for the past two days. A hand pats you gently on your back in an effort to help you recover. Looking up to the owner of a melodious voice you were familiarized with now, you see Doctor Cullen with an arm full of files and his brows knitted together with worry.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” you breathe, “you just... surprised me.”

“Remind me not to surprise you in the future then. I’d hate to resuscitate my favorite student from apparent death.” His favorite... Your face gets warmer than it already is from coughing and you quickly look away from his soft gaze on you to move the half eaten lunch and make space for him.

“Do you want to sit down?” you ask. His golden eyes light up at the offer.

“Would I be imposing? I don’t want to distract you.” You shake your head and motion for him to sit. He settles down across from you and, pulling out a pen from his white coat. A comfortable silence falls over you two as Doctor Cullen works on his paperwork and you attempt to craft up a decent sentence for your personal statement.

You catch yourself sneaking glances at him more often than not. As if on cue, his eyes look up to meet yours, and you know you were caught. Without a single word, he gives a swift wink and goes back to his work. You swear your heart skipped a beat at that moment.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, Doctor Cullen is growing on you, and as more than just the doctor you are shadowing. Despite his status as a plastic surgeon, he doesn’t seem to think of himself as above anyone. He’s respectful to everyone he interacts with – including you, he’s shown more compassion to the patients in the past day and a half than you’ve ever experienced in your three years in this city, and not to mention, he exudes charm without even realizing it.

How can someone so perfect exist? You decide something has to be wrong with him because perfect people just do not exist. Maybe he doesn’t wash his hands at home, maybe he actually hates puppies and cute babies, or maybe he’s even a serial killer disguised as this incredible doctor.

You shake your head at yourself. You were being ridiculous. Doctor Cullen is just another person who happens to be really good at his job – or that’s what you are trying to convince yourself of because if you keep thinking about him like this, you’re bound to fall for him and that would not end well for either parties.

You take one last look at the nonexistent personal statement and decide enough is enough. There is ten minutes left before both of your lunches end, and scrolling through social media is far more productive than staring at the doctor across from you anyways.

Your endless scrolling leads you to a new meme. An abrupt laugh passes your lips before you can stop it and you see Doctor Cullen’s head look up at you.

“Something funny?” he asks, an amused smirk plastered across his face. You clearly aren’t working on the personal statement anymore.

“I just saw a funny meme,” you admit.

“A... meme?” His expression is puzzled, something you never thought you would see from the doctor that seems to know everything. Could not knowing what a meme is truly be his one fault?

You’re about to give an answer when you find yourself struggling for the right words. How does one accurately describe something that’s so engrained into your generation’s pop culture? “I guess you could say it’s just something funny that tends to spread on the internet,” you decide saying.

“Could I take a look?”

“Sure.” You’re about to turn the laptop when he gets up to go around the table instead. He’s standing next to you once again, but this time, Doctor Cullen leans over to look at the meme with an arm on the back of your chair. The scent of pine envelopes you as he inches closer to get a better look at the picture. His face is mere centimeters away from yours and you pray he doesn’t hear the recognizable thumping of your heart grow faster.

His eyes scan the words on the meme and he frowns. “It appears I don’t quite understand the context of this image.”

“Well...” You really can’t think with him this close to you. “I guess it’s only something the kiddos would get nowadays,” you let out a forced laugh.

He stands back up and you are finally able to let out a breath you don’t realize you’re holding.

“It would seem so.” He picks up his stack of files and sticks out a hand at you like the day before. “What do you say we get back to saving some lives?”

You grab his hand and stand up from your chair. “Happily.”

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #twilight imagines #twilight renaissance #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight reboot #carlisle cullen imagine #twilight #twilight revival #doctor daddy cullen #twilight renessaince #twilight fanfic

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catchweightstudio · 4 years

Text

The big Conscript accessibility + options update!

Hello everyone, hope you are all doing well. I’ve been hard at work getting a new demo revision ready for mid-October.

MAIN MENU

Here’s a look at the initial main menu for Conscript. I find it quite atmospheric and have found myself just keeping it on in the background while I work. The last menu for the previous demo was quite rushed so I’m happy with how this one has turned out.

ACCESSIBILITY

Recently, the topic of accessibility has been on my mind. As a developer it’s easy to find yourself resisting against a player’s ability to alter your “vision” of the game. I can understand this sentiment - as I’m somebody who holds my project VERY close to my heart. This topic was inspired by a conversation on the Conscript Discord where I was asked how accessible the game would be. My immediate internal reaction to any questions relating to adding a new unplanned feature is generally “isn’t my damn Trello board already big enough??”

After some reflection and research however, this is a silly way to look at things. Yes, any new feature takes hours or even days to implement - but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing. For example, as a developer I end up putting in many extra days and weeks trying to get the game on different online storefronts or even other consoles, all in hopes of trying to expose the game to more people but I would never question this time as anything but time well spent.

Accessibility is the same thing really. There are extra hours of work I can put in to ensure that MORE people can be exposed to the game and enjoy it. So that’s what I’ve been doing, even if it has meant putting extra work hours in every day for the past few weeks.

PAUSE

First, you can now visit the options menu at any time without having to go through the inventory. A tiny change, but it was requested quite a few times.

VISUAL OPTIONS

Something I wanted to solve was text readability. There are now a variety of settings to adjust different properties of the text in-game.

You can now choose between HD and pixelated fonts. Even though low-res pixel font is coherent with the general art style, it is not the most legible typeface to read. Now you can have the option to “HD-ify” the font, which makes for greater readability.

For those with dyslexia who may have trouble discerning between serif style characters, you can now opt for a simple sans-serif font style. This can also be toggled between HD or pixelated.

Text colour can also be changed between white, yellow, green, red or blue.

This is applied to all standard text throughout the game!

And finally, the background opacity of the standard textbox can be customised from 0 to 100. If you are struggling to discern between the text and background it may be easier to have this on 100 so the text stands more.

I feel like all these extra little options will solve the text readability issue for the majority of players. Any colour specific elements will also have non-colour related visual indicators. They are small changes but hopefully go a long way for some.

There are also some extra little visual accessibility options for those who may have trouble focusing on certain elements of the game’s artstyle. You can now zoom the camera in up close to our protagonist, and also alter cursor, crosshair and interaction icon properties such as size and colour. HUD opacity can also be lowered, but it is set to 100 by default.

The screen blood that appears when you take damage can also be turned off now, as can any bright flashes in the game for those who are photosensitive or epileptic. For those who don’t enjoy screenshake, that can be turned off too.

It hasn’t been implemented yet, but I am working on having brightness and contrast settings too in the future. Even though the game won’t feature much voice acting, I am going to work on having subtitles available not just for voices but also for any kind of hard-to-read environmental text.

AUDIO OPTIONS

Nothing too fancy, but you can now adjust SFX, music and master volume all independently. This required a rework of the audio system so it was actually quite challenging, but happy to have it completed and working.

BLOOD TOGGLE

Blood and gore effects can now be toned down substantially, although it will be left on by default. The reason I decided to include this is because there may be some who are more interested in exploring the history of Conscript without the intense and bloody combat . In my opinion, Conscript is equal parts a history game and a survival horror game, so there will be cross pollination between those two demographics. Most of you will probably leave this on but it’s nice to have it there anyway.

DIFFICULTY MODES

During the Kickstarter campaign, we reached the stretch goal for two difficulty modes but I am going to include some extra ones in the final game. There will now be six difficulty modes in total.

Training (Assist Mode)

This mode will feature checkpoints, increased health capacity and player damage will be increased.

Recruit / Soldier / Veteran

These three will be the standard easy/normal/hard sort of thing from every other game in existence. Enemy damage and item quantity variables will be the main differences between these modes.

War Hero

This will feature more “realistic” elements from modes like Resident Evil Remake’s “Real Survival” difficulty. Item boxes will be unlinked from each other and limited saves will be mandatory. It will contain the same gameplay modifiers as Veteran mode.

Grognard (French for “old soldier”)

This ultimate challenge will include all the features of War Hero mode but with PERMADEATH. Yep, you heard right.

LIMITED SAVE TOGGLE

Limited saving has always been controversial. The reason I opted for this old-school survival horror mechanic is because it introduces a risk/reward style of gameplay where players generally try and squeeze in one extra “task” before the next save, leading to extra hard decisions being made during gameplay. Understandably, not everyone wants to deal with this though. Despite this being the intended way to play, it will an optional toggle at the start of any Conscript playthrough. Note that on the very hardest difficulties it will be mandatory however.

Here’s a look at the game parameter screen before you start a new save:

You will also have the ability to toggle off Kickstarter backer easter eggs if you so wish.

CONTROL SETTINGS

Any action that requires you to hold a button - such as aiming and running - can now be toggled with one button press instead.

Also, I’m going to implement both a quick melee and quick heal feature so that you don’t have to go into the inventory just to break some barrels or use a healing item.

You can also turn off mouse support to play the game with a keyboard only.

CONTROLLER REMAPPING

Full control remapping is now available for both keyboard and gamepad control schemes. This was a complicated and time consuming thing for me to implement but I’m glad to finally have it available.

Hang on a second… did the inventory just change?

BAG STYLES

By far the biggest feature in Conscript history....

This was a fun little extra I decided to make when I was testing out the flexibility of the new options menu. Admittedly it has nothing to do with accessibility, but it is related to the options menu! You can now change the colour of the inventory background. You will be spending a lot of time there so I figured it would be cool to give some small level of customization... there may even be some extra unlockable styles in the full game! Any ideas for patterns or designs?

So that’s what I’ve been working on the past two weeks! What do you think? I know menu heavy things aren't exactly the most marketable features, but I felt it was important to share. Are there any other reasonably in-scope accessibility options you all would like to see?

#gamedev #indiedev #accessibility #indiegame #survivalhorror #horrorgame #conscript

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vintagesimstress · 4 years

Text

III. Meshing a (vintage) dress

(Previous: II. Learning to mesh)

Now that you know how to get around in Blender, you can finally put your newly acquired skills into action and mesh your first dress. I just hope you did your homework and really made your donuts - otherwise you might find it very difficult to understand what's going on in this part! I'll assume that you've watched and practised it all, so I won't explain the basic yet again. I will be writing the shortkeys in brackets though – there are way too many of them to remember them all after just a couple of videos.

So, let's get it started... But where?

As usually, there's no one proper answer to this question. Generally speaking, creators' approaches to meshing can be divided into 3 categories:

Combining parts of different EA meshes into a new mesh – a.k.a. frankenmeshing.

For sure you've seen frankenmeshed CC many times, even though you might not have realised it. Let's say EA releases a new DLC which includes a top with some cool, never-seen-before sleeves. Let's say there's a dress in game which you think would look great with those new sleeves instead of the boring old ones. In such case you can simply export both meshes in S4S, open one of them in Blender and append the other one (more on it later). A bit of deleting & merging of vertices and voilà! The mesh is ready. Most of the time you don't even have to worry about uv-1 and weights (again, more on it later... LOTS on it later).

Mesh editing

That's pretty self-explanatory, isn't it? This method is what most tutorials try to teach you. Look for a piece which resembles the most what you'd like to make. Export the mesh and make the necessary adjustments. Depending on how much you edited, you might have to mess with uv-1 and weights a little bit, but usually it shouldn't be too problematic.

Making a mesh from scratch

As far as I know without having ever used Marvellous Designer, this is what MD creators do: 'sew' their mesh completely from scratch and then import it to Blender. Such a mesh doesn't carry any of the vital information – uv-maps, weights, bones, anything - so all of those have to be manually assigned to it. This, obviously, significantly increases the workload and can be very tricky to do; however, this meshing method gives you almost unlimited freedom. If you don't limit yourself to editing existing stuff, you can make pretty much ANYTHING.

As you can see, all of those methods have their pros and cons - and they're all equally valuable as long as they help you achieve your goal. The method which I like the most and which I'm going to show you lands somewhere between no. 2 and 3: I use an existing top and make it into a dress. This way I have lots of creative freedom, but also reduce the unnecessary workload (yes, in most cases meshing a top from scratch would be totally unnecessary).

Enough theory, let's go grab that top!

Open S4S. Choose the “Create 3D mesh” option under “CAS” menu and then click that “CAS” button. You will see the list of all CAS items in your game.

NOTE: If you DON'T see the list, that probably means S4S didn't manage to find your TS4 files. You have to open the 'Settings' tab and manually change the 'Sims 4 Path' and 'Sims 4 Documents'. And if you're already there, make sure your Blender path is correct as well!

As you can see, there are many categories you can choose from at the top to narrow down your search. I need a top for adult females, so that's what I'm going to select. My favourite starting point is that simple BG top – it's skin-tight (meaning: the texture is only printed on top of the body, not really meshed, which makes it perfect for any future edits) almost everywhere, except for the breast area: there it's nicely stretched, just like it should be in case of my dress. If I wanted to make a dress with a deep décolletage, like an evening or ball gown, I'd type 'nude' in the search bar and select that naked female Barbie top instead.

The swatch doesn't matter. Select any of them and then click 'next'. I chose the red one, just because I like the colour:

What you're doing now is cloning a BG item and creating a new package. Name it whatever you want and save it in some 'Tutorial' folder or so. It doesn't really matter, as soon you won't need it anymore – we're here only for the mesh.

Once you've done it, a new window will appear. This is your new package with all the information it carries. We'll delve into details later – for now, as I said, we only need the mesh. Go to the 'Meshes' tab and click the 'Export mesh' button (make sure NOT to change the level of detail by accident!). Save it in your Tutorial folder as whatever (e.g. mesh_1).

You can close S4S now – we won't need it for a loooong time. Open your newly exported Blender file instead. This is what you should see:

NOTE: It won't make any sense to you right now, but check if you see the 'S4Studio CAS Tools' on the right side! If they're not there, it means your Blender and S4S are not properly connected and you'll run into problems later. Go back to S4S settings and assign the correct Blender path!

I'd suggest you immediately change the perspective to Ortho (num 5) and hide those sidebars on the right (n) and left (t) of the main window. Better, right?

Make sure your cursor is in the main window! If the shortkeys aren't working, it's probably because the cursor is in the wrong place.

When you go into edit mode (tab), you might notice one very important detail: body parts are also parts of the mesh. If you delete them, they won't appear on your sim either. Our top includes hands and neck only – the rest of what you can see is visible only in Blender. A good way to check if your mesh isn't missing anything is clicking that little plus next to 'rig' and then 'closing' all those little eyes next to all the listed body parts. Now your model will look a bit different:

Of course, missing some of those body parts is not a problem. A dress shouldn't include head or feet – those are separate categories. We can toggle feet, both heads and teeth visible again. What we lack is a bottom, i.e. legs – but luckily, we don't have to worry about it, as they'll be hidden under the skirt anyway. I will explain how to add legs (or any other missing body parts) to the mesh at one point, but a bit later – for now let's say we don't need them.

There are two methods of meshing a skirt that I'd like to show you, and they both start with the same basic steps:

1. Just after exporting, your mesh is cut wherever its uv map was cut, which might lead to some problems. Better select all your vertices (a), press w and choose 'remove doubles' from the list. Almost 300 vertices got merged!

2. Turn on the X-ray. Make sure you're in the front view (num 1) and then select (b) all the vertices below the waistline. Press X or del and choose 'vertices'. Kaboom!

3. Select (b) the lowest remaining row of vertices.

4. Extrude those vertices down (e, z) until the point to which your dress should reach. If you're using a reference picture, that's one of those moments when you should take a close look at it.

5. Scale (s) those extruded vertices until the bottom of your dress is as wide as it should be. If you're using a picture, pay attention to the proportion of the bottom of the dress vs shoulders – that's usually the best reference point you can get. Mine should be quite a bit wider than the shoulders, so I got this:

6. Turn the camera around and check how it looks from other viewpoints. I can see that my skirt is kind of asymmetrical, and not in a good way: flat at the back, going too far to the front. Let's go to the side view (num 3) and move those vertices back a bit (g, y). Much better!

7. I still don't like that flatness at the back. Let's go to the top view (num 7) and select only the central vertex on the back. Now, do you remember what you did to get that icing on the donut? Proportional editing? That's what I'm going to use. I'll turn it on only for connected vertices (alt + o) and then move that central vertex back (g, y).

NOTE: If your whole mesh is moving when you're trying to use proportional editing, scroll your mouse wheel until you see a white circle on the screen. The smaller the circle, the smaller the area affected by your edits. By default it's very big, that's why everything is moving!

8. Once again look around and make sure the basic shape of your skirt mesh is correct. Save, e.g. as mesh_2 (ctrl + shift + s).

Did you make it till the end? Congratulations! I'm sorry it got so long and I hope you could follow everything (also, please tell me if something isn't clear, I'll try to add explanations). Of course we're not done with our meshing adventures; the skirt still needs lots of tuning, but we'll deal with it next time. Now we all deserve a good rest :).

(Next: III a. Method I: Loop, Sculpt, Cut)

#tutorial #meshing

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mariapilarexperimentalsurfaces · 3 years

Photo

Metal Prep + Vinyl Cutter Experimenting + Critical Reflection

Unfortunately, I didn’t get any photos of the metal preparing process, but the steps are relatively straight forward. First, we smoothed out any rough edges of our aluminium using a green scouring sponge; if there were any particularly sharp edges sticking out, we could also use the metal file. Mine didn’t have that many rough edges, so I only needed the green scouring sponge. Then, once that’s ready, sand one edge of the metal so that you have an appropriate grip, then you can head over to the sink to clean it. To clean the metal, we used a little bit of sugar soap and powder, which adds a little bit of that exfoliating texture that makes it easier to scrub out. The sugar soap is surprisingly gelatinous in texture, so bear that in mind as you pour it out. Then, dry your metal with paper towels and a hair dryer.

My friend Lisa and I decided to experiment with the vinyl cutter and try to familiarize ourselves with the process. We did it onto a piece of aluminium and decided we would each peel away a different part of the vinyl to see what it would like if: the background was exposed to the acid wash (Lisa’s example), vs what it would look like if the background was covered and the letters were exposed (my example). We will definitely try the acid wash next time to see the final results.

I quite enjoyed using the vinyl cutter as it was a piece of technology I have never used before. To use the vinyl cutter, you put the roll in and uncheck the bar on the side of the machine, making sure that the power switch is off the entire time - this is because you can only move the roller wheels when the power is off; you can use the dots on the machine to line up your material. For this one, we just lined up the vinyl edge to edge. Then you clamp it and put the power on, confirming that you placed a roll in; the vinyl cutter machine will then measure the distance (very cool!) for you. Our length was 57cm.

The computer then opens up a program called Flexi10, which I’d never used before - apparently the easiest way to use it is taking the image into Illustrator, doing an image trace, saving it as an EPS, and transferring it to the machine. This would be cool in the future.

We wrote our names and clicked the scalpel tool, which opened two dialogue boxes. The first one isn’t necessary, so you just minimise it - DON’T CLOSE IT because it closes the other box, too. Once you do the appropriate settings (the machine was already set to 57cm because of previous demos), it’s free to send through.

In order to not waste material, we rolled the vinyl back using the cursors. We then clicked the origin button until the screen stopped flashing, then sent our patterns through.

These are the final vinyl cut results.

I feel like it is the kind of machine that will get easier to use with time; for now, I’m pleased with what Lisa and I achieved - I’m also super excited to see what it looks like once we place the metal in acid!

#vinyl cutting #critical reflection #metal prep

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gwoongi · 5 years

Text

𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖺 ♥︎ jeongguk (ft jimin)

𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖺 jeon jeongguk / reader (ft jimin) genre: pornstar au, smut rating: explicit words: 7391

This position is particularly ambiguous; your face is almost gone, only slightly in frame, with the lens zoomed further in to your ass and Jeongguk’s thighs, his ass there but moving as he leans for the lube across the bed. If he wanted, Jimin could pretend the figure beneath Jeongguk was a boy- could be him, if he wanted. He does not want.

a/n: literally nobody asked for this. yes, the namjoon sequel is coming soon, so don’t worry about that :-) it’s time for baby boy jimin to have some fun <3 also this exposes my desire to eat koos ass. its pretty i just wanna nom nom :3

warnings: graphic sexual content, porn themes, fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, rim jobs, sex toys, dirty talk, bisexual jimin, ass eating, really slight blasphemy, overstimulation, anal virginity, daddy kink, mommy kink, koo and y/n are freaky okay, probably an unrealistic interpretation of pornhub livestreams, whore-shaming (?), cock slut shaming (?)

Jimin was bored. With most of the fraternity out for a party that Jimin was sadly not invited to (not that he exactly cares for parties held by Jackson, because let’s be honest, he doesn’t really like the guy), Jimin sat at home on his bed with the telly flicking with a show he cared little about, the pictures talking silently.

“Please tell me you’re going to be home,” Jimin had begged, clinging uselessly to the oversized sleeve of Kim Namjoon, who reluctantly pulled away from his fisted hands and grabbed his coat from behind the door. Sorry, little man, I’ve gotta get out of the house more. “But I’m going to be all alone. I’m the only one who wasn’t invited to that shitty party.” I’ll come home early for you, if you’d like. “I would not like. Just go, get out of my face.”

Namjoon didn’t know what else to say other than sorry, patronisingly running his fingers through Jimin’s hair. Unlike Namjoon, who had already spent two god-awful years at University, Jimin was a newbie, a first year, dipping his toes into waters to figure out which one he liked best. Namjoon shrugged his coat on halfway, tossing Jimin the phone charger he asked for moments prior. Try to entertain yourself, he had said. Watch porn. Hey, I just recently found a new porn duo to watch!

That’s how Jimin found out about koopid, the porn couple that his Big, Namjoon, had been locked in his room jerking off to. With rooms joined by one thin wall, Jimin was unsurprisingly familiar with the channel, never invested enough in doing his own research, mildly sexually frustrated by Namjoon’s rutting mixed with the unnecessarily loud volume of his laptop. If he can help it, Jimin doesn’t usually watch straight porn. He never denies it, but he’s an experimenting bisexual- pretty sure he likes both, and his history of girlfriends and boyfriends throughout high school prove it, but he’s not quite sure where he stands yet, or where he’s comfortable standing. He sits in his bedroom, alone in the fraternity miles away from Jackson’s venue, his laptop blinking on Google waiting for a command to be punched in.

On telly, a re-run episode of Friends comes to an end and Jimin watches with mild boredom as it switches to an advert, advertising a new bleach that is guaranteed to remove 98% of bacteria from inside your toilet. He turns off the telly, sighing and looking over at his laptop, the Google tormenting him with a grin: I know you want to. I know you’re tempted.

Jimin sighs to himself, dragging the laptop over to his thighs and almost guiltily typing the phrase koopid into the search engine. He’s half expecting nothing to really show up, because Namjoon has creative porn taste and they’re probably not that popular. However he is embarrassingly wrong; the search floods with links to lewd videos, the official koopid channel being the top search. On Google Images, he quickly presses and sees the slightly grainy faces of the couple, a picture from Instagram that he sees as quite romantic. The boy holds the girl with his chin pressed into her neck, a smile on his face and the camera not exactly centred. Jimin’s instinct is to coo, and saw “aww”. He’s not expecting much from koopid when he clicks on their channel. It’s just another straight couple having sex, it’s nothing he hasn’t already seen.

His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the fifteen videos, spotting the red button indicating that the channel is currently live. He’s tempted to click in, sit back, see what they have to offer. The livestream title reads “10k thumbs up and i’ll let y/n eat my ass”.

It’s so very tempting, but Jimin pauses with his cursor hovering over a video titled, “first time doing anal with y/n”. The thumbnail is an inviting image of quite possibly one of the nicest dicks Jimin has ever seen in straight porn, the tip red and exaggerated and in preview, the thumbnail moves for a few seconds, showing a small asshole stretch to accommodate the dick, the whole length disappearing. He’s conflicted, half off the bed with intentions to run and get his box. The box, with dildos of every shape and size. When the thumbnail clip loops, Jimin misses it, already on his feet and crouching to get the box from underneath his dresser.

When he gets back to his bed, Jimin notices that his hands are trembling. In the drawer next to his bed is his lube, a strawberry flavour that he’s never indulged with before. Today he will, and he grabs that alongside a dildo that looks uncanny in resemblance to koopid, save the colour being a solid bright purple. He shakily moves it beneath him as he slips out of his jeans, pressing and tightening with discomfort as he looks back at the screen. He wants to feel guilty about this, but there’s nothing to feel guilty about. And, nobody’s home to hear him or see him, and for good measure, his bedroom door is locked.

Once he clicks on the video, there is no turning back. His body trembles as the video begins to play and he’s greeted with the view of a girl on all fours, her head tossed over her shoulder to stare at the camera. She’s pretty, really pretty, already naked for the audience. Jimin stares wordlessly, because what is he supposed to say? On each asscheek, Jimin notices that the boyfriend is particularly ruthless, faded palms still lingering upon the skin that strangely resembles silk, or marble, or soap. He quietly hears the boyfriend mutter a polite introduction, introducing the pair of you to new watchers like Jimin. He hears a Jeongguk and a Y/N, and it’s evident who is who.

Jeongguk shuffles into frame, pressing his hands to each cheek and palming softly. You respond by letting your head fall slightly, rolling the kinks out as Jeongguk sinks deeper on to the bed, until his face is in view. Jeongguk’s smart, and he knows what people like. They like seeing him, all of him and his face and yours, in various positions and conditions. Unlike the porn videos Jimin sees of overly acted situations, where the girl gets caught out after curfew and is punished over a desk, hands bound with the leather of the guy’s belt, Jimin is slightly taken aback at how fast Jeongguk jumps into things- his own cock is out, bulging and huge as expected, and he doesn’t let the audience know what he’s doing. Everybody knows; they can read the title, they can hover the mouse over the timeline and see the frames.

The hand rested upon your right asscheek begins to move in circles, stroking it affectionately as the other hand belonging to Jeongguk slides down the length of your leg. You shudder when his fingers feather across your thigh, twisting inwards to cloyingly play in the warmth. Jeongguk pulls your legs further apart, your cheeks slightly widening with the view of your hole being all Jimin can currently focus on. To the side, Jeongguk grins and chuckles quietly, hot air breathing out of his nose. He likes what he sees, because he’s never been up close and personal with it before. Anal was the promised land that he had not been granted entry to, until today, or rather this morning, when he had rolled over in bed and slipped an arm around your waist, kissing your hair and said, “hey, good morning, wanna do anal later on camera?”

Jimin watches in an expressive silence, timidly stroking his dick as Jeongguk claps his hand against your ass, the sound loud and sharp. A loud moan leaves your lips and Jeongguk pulls apart your cunt from behind, the lips barely visible from the angle but still there, definitely. He idly curls a finger around the wetness, lubricating his fingers. From where he is kneeling, he side-glances at the camera and smirks, holding the inside of your thigh with his left hand and curling his right up, all the way until his one soaked finger tauntingly circles your hole, as if daring to enter, and then slips inside.

The feeling is new, foreign, and you hadn’t anticipated the tight feeling of his finger curling inwards, exploring. Jeongguk lets out a noise of interest at how you shudder, writhing gently and without really noticing, pushing back onto his finger until it entered all the way to the knuckle. Jimin thumbs the head of his dick, silent; Jeongguk marvels at the way you fuck yourself onto one finger, his mouth in an open smile that left his mouth dry. He swallows thickly, impressed.

“Wow, baby girl,” he comments, finally, and Jimin can now hear his voice, “look at how you’re fucking yourself onto my finger. You’re a needy girl tonight, aren’t you?”

You whimper in reply, maybe even say something that Jimin can’t hear.

“Let’s add another one,” Jeongguk suggests sweetly. “You take one like a champion, let’s see if you’re wide enough for two.”

He adds a second, his middle, twisting both fingers in right up to the knuckle. From where the camera stands on a tripod, it gives way to a gorgeous view of your hole, clenching tightly around the digits. Jeongguk laughs warmly, satisfied with the results. It’s close enough for Jimin to hear sounds, the slick and almost sticky sounds of wetness from Jeongguk’s fingers, coated in the thick layer of arousal and lube he had tossed somewhere, an extra coat for ease for the camera. Every so often, Jimin would spot Jeongguk looking at the camera, at the viewfinder to see if you were still in shot. You carried yourself on your arms, your ass and hips raised upwards with your back in what looked like an uncomfortable slope, a position Jimin sympathised being in once or twice.

“Mm, perfect,” Jeongguk says slowly, dragging it out like he did his fingers. They are almost free, until he pushes them back in, practically glowing with pride when you groan out, pushing back onto his knuckles. His fingers sink deeper inside of you, tickling inner walls and finally scissoring, stretching you open in anticipation for a third finger Jeongguk had waiting. You’re tight, tighter than Jeongguk had ever seen you since the first time you had sex together two years ago, that virgin hole Jeongguk had the honour of ripping apart. “You look so perfect, baby. Can you manage a third?”

You nod with effort, “Yes, Daddy.”

“You don’t have to call me Daddy tonight,” Jeongguk offers. He wants this one to be personal, in respect of firsts being mutually taken. You whimper in reply, not in the mood to reply with words. Jeongguk continues a pace with his fingers before adding in a third, letting out a hiss of air at the tightness closing in around his fingers.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” Jeongguk groans to himself between his teeth, ramming his fingers in and out to get a feel for every single space inside of you, “Nobody’s ever fucked your ass like this, have they, baby?”

“No,” you breathe out, trying to look back at him over your shoulder. “Just you, Guk.”

He makes a noise of content, pressing a kiss to your ass and then slapping it with his free hand. You jolt, sinking up and down off his fingers. “That’s right. Only I get to fuck you like this. Fuck- you’re so tight, imagine what it’s gonna feel like with my cock in there.”

“Puh-please, Guk,” you rasp, slumping slightly against this sheets. This time, they’re pale pink, like the colour of unripe strawberries, the stinging colour of your asshole once Jeongguk pulls his fingers out. “Please fuck me already. Please.”

Jeongguk, like always, pretends to think about it. He addresses the audience, finally, by looking back at the camera with furrowed brows, as if genuinely conflicted on if to give in and fuck you. Jimin’s hand is still moving around his dick slowly, his own ass rising off the comforter.

“Alright,” he replies, almost indifferently. He even throws in the shrug of his shoulders, his body oozing with charisma that makes Jimin bite down on his lips to contain a whimper. The intimidation always scares people into desire. “Toss the lube, and move so everyone can see your ass.”

Jimin wriggles uncomfortably, not being able to relieve anything by simply touching himself. Instead, he gapes at the screen, thankful the webcam is covered so his assigned FBI agent can’t laugh at him for being so obviously sexually frustrated, rutting into his own hand as you shuffle across the bed on all fours, still slightly tight around the air as you drop with a slight huff, assigned to the side. This position is particularly ambiguous; your face is almost gone, only slightly in frame, with the lens zoomed further in to your ass and Jeongguk’s thighs, his ass there but moving as he leans for the lube across the bed. If he wanted, Jimin could pretend the figure beneath Jeongguk was a boy- could be him, if he wanted.

He does not want. But, he still imagines, even with you there and patiently waiting for Jeongguk to hurry rubbing the lube across his dick, up and down. Jimin can’t help but gape at the size in Jeongguk’s hand, which is already large and veiny, but he concludes that the bigger hand makes Jeongguk’s cock look bigger, scarier, more erect. It’s so big that when Jeongguk lets go, it stands to a salute up to his stomach, the tip nearing his belly button. Jimin groans, reaching behind him for his own lube and the dildo that he almost forgot about.

It’s as if Jeongguk is giving Jimin time to prepare; instead of being ruthless and shoving his dick inside the tightness, Jeongguk pulls apart your cheeks with fingers and licks around your hole, collecting up the juice he left there from his fingers, a mixture between the cherry and the sweet taste of your pussy, the juices clinging to be tasted. He groans into you, taking kitten licks around the rim and taking extreme pleasure in the way you moan against him, your ass square in Jeongguk’s face.

Jimin hurriedly coats the dildo in lube, almost excessively, licking up the remains off his smaller fingers. He stares at Jeongguk’s hands in longing and his teeth gnaw on his lips as you moan relentlessly, tight and girly breaths of pleasure that Jimin never thought he’d like hearing. Jeongguk’s own cock twitches against his stomach, the length staring at Jimin and being the only thing Jimin can keep his eyes on.

He fiddles with the dildo, feeling his face warm with a crimson heat. On the other side, Jeongguk pulls away from your ass and kisses your right cheek again, muttering something in a low voice that the camera barely picks up. I love you, he says, between quiet pursed lips. Jimin wants to cry.

Jeongguk moves your hips, deciding on where he’s going to have you. Eventually he decides to have you at an angle where the camera captures your hole perfectly, clenching around nothing, surely with enough frame space to capture his cock moving in and out. It can’t be that different from doggy, from one of your first videos on the channel where he took you from behind with a fistful of hair. You were blonde back then. Jeongguk and Jimin both prefer the dark colour you have presently, and the way it makes your face look brighter, adding an element of sensuality that Jimin wasn’t sure was possible for a head of hair.

“You took my fingers so well, baby,” Jeongguk tells you, prodding your ass with his hands as if preparing himself for the penetration, “but let’s see how well you take my cock.”

As always, Jeongguk wastes no time. It was like he suddenly feared that the lube around his cock would dry, for he prods your entrance with the tip, hissing softly as he pushes it in. He begins slow, as if stomping his foot on ice to see if it would hold, and then, once the tip is in, Jeongguk grunts and rolls his shoulders, the bottom of his back clenching with muscles on display until he finally sank his whole length inside you. He groans, his hands gripping your waist line with vigour and he slowly began to move his hips, moving in slow waves in and out. His movements were experimental yet professional, still candid enough for Jimin to almost believe this tape was amateur. Grabbing the dildo situated under his hips with one hand, Jimin, without looking away from the screen, aligns it with his ass and slowly sinks down on it, his head immediately rocking back at the feeling.

Jeongguk becomes more familiar with the feeling and the movements, understanding that an asshole really was no different to a pussy, except the feeling inside and the placement. To him, and to porn, it was just another hole to shove his cock into. He moves quicker, finding the strength inside of him to clench your hip-bones and pull them down onto his cock, the rhythm so consistent that after a few short seconds, the clapping arises.

Jimin watches from his bed, his reflection slightly visible in the screen, the pathetic view of him bouncing up and down on the horrendous purple dildo. He stares long and hard at Jeongguk’s fat cock, his mouth practically watering at the way it fits perfectly in your hole, each thrust coming out with a wet and slick look, the vein bulging. Jimin wants to finger his mouth, like a whore, but he resists, instead shyly reaching down and grabbing his cock as Jeongguk maintains a pace.

“You’re taking my cock so well, princess,” Jeongguk grunts. Usually, he can keep his composure, keeping up the act of the boyfriend who likes to fill the boots as the boss. Tonight, however, he’s sloppy, slacking on duty. He’s a boss neglecting his reputation and duties, his head filled with sawdust as he focuses on your ass, and the tightness of it around his dick. For a while, it feels almost hard to move, the need to stand still and let it become familiar overwhelming but at the same time dangerous. He wouldn’t want to upset the ratings. Literally, he can’t afford it.

The stretch burns, your eyes rolling back with powerful pleasure and your body feeling as though it was a clump of jelly, wobbling and sliding around on a plate, each tip sending you closer to the edge. You moan with almost every thrust, the way everybody likes it, and from underneath your armpit, you spot Jeongguk’s thighs, the occasional glimpse of his balls slapping against the backside of your pussy.

“Yeah? Tell m-me,” you gasp out, crooning to him. “Tell me how good I feel around your big dick.”

Jimin hadn’t been expecting a sudden role reversal, and by the sounds of it, neither had Jeongguk. Without having any prior experience fucking with koopid, Jimin reckons this may be the first time on record that Jeongguk has been dominantly submissive. What he lacks in vocals he clearly makes up for with physical ability, your words sending him into a rutting fit of fast pace, his dick hitting sensitive spots inside of you. Jimin whimpers to nobody, to Jeongguk, to you, as the dildo brushes his prostate, rubbing against his insides. It’s big, and Jimin closes his eyes to pretend it’s Jeongguk.

He’s so caught up in the fantasy that he can physically imagine the feeling of Jeongguk’s large thighs on either side of his body, his hands that are big and veined holding his tiny body like he was a prized China doll. He wants it so bad, he pictures it perfectly. The thought sends a ripple of tingles throughout his body, a rush of erotica to his cock and it throbs, it hurts and it twitches, erect, touching his stomach. Jimin fingers around his slit, other fingers lost in the short wisps of hair, meanwhile the other hand holds the dildo in place so it doesn’t slip out.

“Mm, baby, you feel so good around me, you’re so good,” Jeongguk praises, his voice unusually breathy and lost, as if he’s struggling. Perhaps he is; it makes Jimin cry out with pleasure as the dildo hits the spot, Jeongguk’s dick inside of him hitting his good spots, making little Jimin horny. “Shit. Your tight little hole is making Daddy feel so good.”

So he’s bringing Daddy back, Jimin thinks. He feels guilty suddenly at the lack of attention he’s giving you, and you’re delivering a spectacular performance, the moans high enough to sound like his own, when he likes them to be. He focuses on that, pretends everything about you is him. For a moment, Jimin eyes the shape of your tits hanging underneath you. He makes a promise to himself that next time, he’ll watch one where you’re the star. You’re too gorgeous for him to ignore you, to shrug you off as if you don’t matter. Without your ass, he wouldn’t be feeling this good.

“Yeah?” you pry. “Do you like fucking my ass?”

“Mm, I love it,” Jeongguk agrees. He lets one hand go off your hips and snakes it underneath, where no doubt, he’s playing with your cunt, threading his fingers through the wetness as if it’s the same casualness as flicking through the newspaper. You barely bat an eyelid, grinding further onto him. “I love the way you make me feel. Always so good for Daddy. Hm? Huh, look at you.” He thrusts sharply up, and you cry out with surprise. “Look at how your ass takes my cock. You’re such a little cockslut, so desperate for my dick.”

“Yuh-yes. You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” Jeongguk replies cockily, regaining his own slipping dignity. Jimin doesn’t care if he plays the role of dominant Daddy, or submissive slut. He just cares about the fake cock up his ass and the computer screen.

Underneath Jeongguk, you whimper out a moan, that leaves pitifully like a whisper, practically unheard. You want to scream, tell everybody and the neighbours about how good it feels, how full you feel with Jeongguk’s dick inside your ass, going so far inside that the air is knocked out of you. Rendering you speechless, almost. In fact, you’re so cock drunk that you have nothing of use to say, nothing erotic to mutter to your boyfriend as he relentlessly pounds into you, feeling his own energy bite back. He slaps your cunt once when he notices you’re being quiet, silent, and that’s not good for ratings. Or for him- Jeongguk likes to hear you, he likes to hear whatever nonsense is coming out of your mouth as he fucks your brains out, to the point where you can’t even make sounds, let alone sentences.

Jeongguk knows your body as well as he knows his own, spotting the signs of an approaching orgasm. He had every intention to deny it, finding a tremor of satisfaction at the thought of seeing you crying, begging violently to cum, please, Jeongguk let me cum. He can hear it if he focuses. But it’s the first time he’s ever been a big boy and put his dick somewhere else besides your cunt and your mouth. It’s special. He wants it to be.

He moves, his dick moving with him inside of you, brushing against sensitive spots that are still unexplored, like levels waiting to be unlocked in a video game. As Jeongguk shivers and readjusts, Jimin lets out his first physical sob, not noticing he’s milking his second orgasm of the night. When was the first? He thinks it was when you took control, those dirty words coming out of your mouth. Like an angel taking sins from the Devil, like a nun hiking her dress above her hips to flash her cunt to the Father. Erotic. Sinful.

“Are you close, princess?” Jeongguk asks sweetly, his voice not loud but also not too quiet, a soft volume that the camera picks up well enough.

“C-can’t hold it much longer, baby,” you admit to him, trying to see him over your shoulder. The sex is heavy, holding you down in restraint. “Can I cum again?”

“Again?” Jeongguk laughs, genuinely. Jimin practically spits out a moan. The audience like it when Jeongguk and yourself break out of character. It reminds them of who you are, reminds them that you’re in love. You’re listed in the Verified Couples category, so the audience have got to be looking for the love somewhere. “Ah, greedy girl.”

“I am, I’m so greedy, so selfish,” you splutter. “Daddy makes me feel so good. I wanna cum again, just for you. Juh-just for Daddy.”

Jeongguk makes an elevated noise, as if he’s just been told something he didn’t know, like he’s been secretly given knowledge nobody has, Chinese whispers.

“You’ve been so, so good for me,” Jeongguk says, “so patient. Your ass is fucking perfect, baby. Just wanna fuck it all damn day.”

Gladly, you moan to that. Jimin feels his cock throbbing in his hand, the tip so sensitive that if he were to brush it with his hand, he might cry. It’s red, and abused, but ready for more, he can feel it. His balls are swelling- he wants to be fucked so badly. He wants to feel a dick inside of him, be filled up with cock, have a warmth around his like Jeongguk has. Nothing about koopid makes him feel different sexually other than the fact that Jimin has never been so entertained with straight porn in his entire life. He wants to thank Namjoon, but thinking about Namjoon is too dangerous right now. Jimin might spend too long thinking about him, and that would do him no good. Somewhere along the way, the dildo changed from Jeongguk’s cock to Namjoon’s, but only for a split second, until Jimin forced the thought away.

“Cum inside me?” you ask sweetly, finally finding the strength to pick your head up and glance at Jeongguk over your shoulder. He nods, a smile on his face and you match it, only briefly and the camera doesn’t capture it anyway. You lean back down, gathering every last breath of energy by pushing your ass up higher for Jeongguk. He hums appreciatively, spanking you as thanks.

“Every time I spank you from now on, I want you to thank me,” Jeongguk explains, preparing for the build up to the end, “I want you to say, thank you Daddy. Can you do that for me, angel?”

“Yes,” you reply with a newfound determination, that drips from your voice confidently. Jimin wriggles his hole around the dildo. His ass is so sore, overfucked, but he can’t get off.

Jeongguk stops moving around you, steadying you around his cock and then, without warning you, bringing his hand sharply to your ass. It’s the left cheek, the one with the fading prints and bite marks. It’s going to be the cheek that hurts the most, but Jeongguk likes that it hurts. He counts in his head: one.

“T-thank you Daddy,” you squeal after the first clap. It only comes as a surprise because it was one.

Jimin snakes a hand up his body, fingering around his nipple. “Thank you Daddy,” he whispers.

Two.

“Feels so guh-good, Daddy. Thank you.”

Jimin bounces heavier. “Mm. Daddy- feels-”

Three. You cry out. It hurts now, the sting worse because of the way he’s done this recently, spanked your ass until it was red and sore, until you couldn’t sit down.

“Mhmpf! T-thank...thank you, Daddy.”

Jeongguk makes the hum, his signature hum that collects comments. It sends a wave of excitement through Jimin, the sound clear in his ears. He wishes he had his earphones in, so he could hear it closer, pretend Jeongguk was whispering it in his ear. His shy hand toying with his nipple moves to his throat, and it clenches for a few seconds, the choked out string of Daddy crossed with timid Jeongguk’s leaving his lips like leaves blowing in the wind. Then his hand moves up, and he shoves his fingers into his mouth. He can take a couple, his reflex isn’t bad.

Jimin thinks he passes out for a few seconds, because when he opens his eyes, his vision is blurry and he chokes around his fingers, staring at the screen with wide eyes in time for the grand finale. Jeongguk is muttering something that Jimin can’t make out, but he isn’t sure if it’s because of the weird feeling in his body. It’s like he’s underwater. He’s so overfucked that he feels faint, but he’s not giving up on koopid, not now.

Jeongguk groans loudly (again), and thrusts himself inwards for the final blow, and the way his body stutters violently and his thighs tremble, Jimin suspects he’s finished. It’s confirmed when Jeongguk, after a moment of catching his breath, pulls his dick out of your ass.

The sound is splendid, the squelch matching Jimin’s as he lifts himself up off the dildo, saving his asshole in preparation for tomorrow morning’s soreness. Your asshole clenches around the absence, still not fully aware of Jeongguk pulling out, but he falls down to his knees, using both hands to part your cheeks like he would hair if you were being sick, revealing the way his cum rolls out of you again, out and around your thighs. A trail even creeps down, all the way to where Jeongguk suspects your pussy is, pulsing with pleasure. He knows you’ve come multiple times, he can tell by the way you’re slouched, your hips still rutting as if trying to fuck the air, fuck the ghost he’s convinced stalks the apartment.

Jimin quickly presses the back button.

He doesn’t know what has come over him, but he needs to see you both, doing real things, to confirm that what just happened was real. Jimin heads straight for the live feed, wondering if you’ve already hit that 10k. When the tab loads and the screen fills with the sight of your tits in front of the screen, Jimin ignores and looks at the likes. 9,992. It’s so close.

Jeongguk sits underneath you, his chest against your back and his hands somewhere in front of you, curling to cup your sex as you rub against his palm. It’s like feeding a pony, as you jut your cunt on his hand like it’s your life mission to do so. You’re talking, and it’s the first time Jimin acknowledges the fact that koopid is a channel of real people, a real couple, who do and say human things.

“Ah, only five more likes,” you say, tossing your hair to the side and lifting, revealing Jeongguk’s coy expression over your shoulder. He’s biting against your neck, and Jimin can see his tongue running flat against the skin. He hums, as expected, in acknowledgement, his hand moving against your pussy. He dares slide a finger in, to tease, and you hiss with a grin. The likes are on 9,999. Jimin realises he wants absolutely nothing more than to see Jeongguk getting his ass ate on live camera by his girlfriend.

So he clicks like.

A little heart floats up on the screen, like on an Instagram live. When you notice it rising up like a stray balloon, you grin wildly, laughing as Jeongguk thrusts fingers into your pussy, not looking at the screen, sucking solar systems into your neck. Jimin’s username flashes on a banner at the bottom of the screen: 10,000th like from angelchim.

“Woah. angelchim, thank you so much!” you giggle, grinding your ass onto Jeongguk and finally your boyfriend looks up. He squints briefly at the screen, playing like he can’t read the banner, but he can. He sees the likes increasing as more people come in. Someone must have shared the link, or they’re only gaining likes for the title. He smiles.

“Well, a promise is a promise,” Jeongguk says evenly. He looks up at you, his hands creeping up from your waist to your breasts, so perked and slightly small. He cups them and you rise with a pleasurable sensation that sends him giggling under his breath, so oddly childlike that Jimin does a double take, and then Jeongguk releases you, tapping your skin and shuffling into position.

From somewhere in the fraternity, Jimin hears a door open. He pauses and looks towards the door, momentarily missing Jeongguk get on all fours and spread his legs, revealing a well groomed ass that he would have liked to see. It’s clean and gaping; the audience suspect Jeongguk’s no stranger to things being put up there. He looks like the type, one comment laughs. Jeongguk’s a cockslut too.

Jimin wonders silently who else is home. It might be nobody, and he’s hearing things. There’s an even chance that it’s Taehyung, a second year who keeps to himself mostly and studies art, locking himself away on evenings when there aren’t any major parties, painting. He doesn’t remember if Taehyung’s gone to Jackson’s party with everybody else. For a moment, he’s embarrassed that Taehyung, or whoever is home, has heard him fucking himself, but the thought disappears when he turns back to the screen and sees Jeongguk’s ass in the air, a grin on his face as you take the role of Boss.

“I don’t want to hear you calling me Y/N, or baby, or angel, or anything,” you tell him, the voice of authority thick and it makes Jeongguk laugh. It’s just a game to him, for now. It’s only a game until you’ve shoved a finger in there, or licked at it.

Jimin’s weirdly attracted to both sides of you, and both sides of Jeongguk. He’s too tired to fuck himself again, or even entertain the thought of touching himself. So instead, he sits back and hikes the comforter higher up over his body, his cock still out between his legs, semi-hard and sore, and he watches the stream like it’s a tv show on in the background. He’s nonetheless invested, not being able to pull his eyes away.

“Okay,” Jeongguk nods. He gets it. “What should I call you, then?”

You mock his hum. “You can call me Mommy tonight. Okay?”

Jeongguk nods awkwardly against the bed, strangely excited. You’re smothering your fingers with lube, undecided on which one should go inside. It’s all so exciting, taking control. Jimin writhes, too tired to pretend physically but he lets his thoughts wander- Jeongguk lives the most perfect life, an equal balance of fucking his girlfriend and being fucked by his girlfriend. He’s flexible, and excited when you gently prod a finger at his asshole. Jeongguk fidgets, eager and restless. Any other day, he might be cautious of your nails, slightly sharpened at the end, because he likes the way it feels against his skin when you cling to him, digging deep enough to draw blood when he’s done. He likes the marks the next morning. He likes hurting when he knows he’s hurting you.

Jimin gets to hear Jeongguk moan submissively as you slide a finger in, and then another, because Jeongguk and his asshole are bigger, and he’s a big boy. He can take two right away, even when he squirms.

“Mmf, Mommy,” Jeongguk starts. He breaks off, unable to say anything for a few seconds as you wiggle your fingers around inside of him, clawing him and making him shudder. The comments are going crazy. For some reason, they didn’t think you’d follow through and finger him, but as Jeongguk rightly said, a promise is a promise. “Feels so good.”

“God, look at you,” you laugh humorlessly. “Look at how you’re fucking Mommy’s fingers. She’s only just started.”

He pushes his hips backwards. “Luh-like it when you touch me, Mommy. I like it when you finger me like this.”

“Mm.”

As Jeongguk whimpers, you decide to curl your fingers upwards, touching and feeling around inside. It’s about time he gets a spoonful of his own medicine, a taste for his own torture. He likes it, he groans with a smile, his eyes searching to find you over his shoulders and when he spots your eyes on his, he winks.

“You can add a third, Mommy,” Jeongguk offers, faking a sweet tone that has a few commenters giggling. Jimin smiles, too. He wishes he could cum, he wishes he could fuck his hand, but he’s too tired, too fucked out. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Hm,” you reply, “only since you asked nicely. I’ll add a third, and I’ll get right to business. Is that okay, baby boy? Hm?”

“Yuh-yes, Mommy.”

“Good boy. My good little boy.”

His ass shifts, wiggling almost in a taunt and you shove your three fingers in without a word of warning. Jeongguk groans with discomfort. He’s had dildos, toys, everything and anything up his ass, both before and after he started dating you. For some reason, the sensation of your three fingers up his ass feels different, not wrong but also not good just yet. He gives you a moment to adjust, finding a rhythm and eventually, after his hips move and he finds himself, he begins to feel the coil in his lower stomach tightening.

“Feel good?” you ask, almost shyly. The last thing you would like is to let him down.

He makes a noise of agreement. “Yes, Mommy. Yes, really good.”

“You sure?”

Jeongguk blinks, quietly saying, as if off the record, “Y/N, this feels amazing. It’s okay.”

Jimin feels like he wasn’t supposed to hear. It’s like when you’re in the loo and somebody comes in, spilling secrets to a friend by the sinks, applying lip gloss in the mirror. You’re not in the conversation, not wanted in the secret exchange.

It puts you at ease, enough for Jeongguk to spread his legs further, shuffling back until his foot accidentally hits your thigh. He grunts, as if blindly finding his way around, and you shuffle right between his legs, following his movements from the video Jimin just watched. You pull your fingers out after a few minutes of fucking, and Jeongguk moans with a high tone when you pull away, moving your hands to his ass cheeks. The camera captures Jeongguk’s face in frame; he looks small, tiny, with cheeks that are round and full now that his face is flush on the bed, his waist looking tinier now it’s arched and in the air. The only thing intimidating about Jeongguk now is his thighs, still large and muscular and scary in their own unique way. Jeongguk whimpers furiously, tears choking at the back of his eyes with a burning sting that is ripped away by a sob when you smile at the camera, and lean in within the same second, pressing a little kiss against his hole.

Jeongguk shudders. You move back in, spreading his cheeks further with your hands and guiding his ass back to your face. You start with licking the rim, like licking sugar and lime from around a shot glass. Jeongguk moans, and fingers the quilt covers. With your tongue flat, you lick at his hole, mocking those same kitten licks as he once did, for a few moments anyway until you both grew comfortable, and you continued licking at his hole, prodding and drooling. He tastes natural, as expected, crossed with the coconut body wash that he used in the shower before the livestream, the same body wash you used at the same time, sharing a shower together with your skins flushed and hot and wet, bubbles as bikinis.

You have to admit to yourself, in a private intermission, that you’ve never eaten an ass before. You had a temporary girlfriend when you were fifteen, because you were hormonal and confused and she was the prettiest girl in school. You’d eaten her out, but it was her pussy, and you’re certain that at some point during high-school, there had been another girl. You can’t remember, your eyes closed as your tongue milks the taste of Jeongguk’s ass. He preens, pushing it against your face slightly with his face buried in the covers.

“Muh-mommy,” he cries. “Oh-fuck.”

“Feel good?” you ask him, your mouth muffled against him. He nods with a moan, although it sounds just like a messy noise, a noise you’d find on a porn soundboard. You smile proudly, being selfish yourself. It feels good knowing you’re the first girl to eat Jeon Jeongguk’s ass, and on camera too, for 28,000 people to see. Jimin sits back with his head on the headboard, staring through heavy half lids. He quite likes this view, this role reversal. He quite likes Jeongguk with his ass in the air. He watches for the finish eagerly, soaking every scene up like the last drops of ice-cream dripping down the cone.

“Ngnh, can’t hold it any longer, Mommy,” Jeongguk wails. He fists the sheets, looking at you underneath his arm. He can’t see your face, only your cunt. He doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter. “Please let me cum.”

“You want to cum?” you repeat. “How badly?”

“S-so badly,” he moans, and his eyes clench closed. “Please. I’ve been good. You’ve made me feel so...so good, Mommy. It-it hurts, p-please-”

You hum tiredly, almost as if what he’s mumbling is boring you. You lick one more time, pushing in as he clenches around the tip of your tongue. It makes you want to laugh, and slap his ass, but he’s already done so much. You grant him the permission he begs to cum, and he does- reaching your hand around to cup his tender balls, Jeongguk clumsily spills on the sheets, the thick white substance leaking not only through the baby pink but also splashing up onto his stomach, getting stuck in the thick curves of his abs. Jimin sighs happily at the sight, high on life and the way Jeongguk squirms like a newborn baby bird who has discovered flight, still clumsy and frantic. His body is shaking, trembling like a glitched video game character, his hips stuttering with his orgasm. He groans with it, and then laughs, perhaps at his own realisation of what just happened, and where and to whom.

Jimin types at the keyboard his first comment: you look absolutely beautiful baby boy, and Jeongguk sees, sending a warmth burning in Jimin’s chest. Jeongguk spots the comments amongst other familiar icons and users and he smiles, his eyes disappearing into pleasant crescent moons.

“Ah, thank you, angelchim. It was an honour getting my ass ate in front of you, I hope you enjoyed.”

“Oh, I did,” Jimin replies breathily, and he’s about to type the comment when a knock thuds at his door. Jimin pauses, hyper-aware of the fact somebody is home. They don’t make another sound, just a knock and then a loud sigh that Jimin recognises to be in the voice belonging to Taehyung, as he suspected.

“Jimin, I’m sorry, I know you’re clearly quite busy-” he emphasises quite, and Jimin wants to vanish into the bedsheets, pretend he’s not home, - “but I text Namjoon about where the hell my phone charger is, and apparently you have it, so if you could please bring it out to me, I would very much appreciate it. You can finish...whatever it is you’re doing in there. I’ll, uh. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

And from the stream, Jeongguk laughs. It feels weird, because given the timing, it’s as if Jeongguk’s laughing at Jimin, at how humiliation creeps up his neck and to his cheeks. Everybody watches porn, he thinks. And he’s in a frat, now. He should wear it with honour, just like Namjoon had told him. He looks over at Taehyung’s charger wrapped in a snake cord by his box and he smiles. Tonight has been unsuspecting, but clearly, way better than anything Jackson could have ever given him.

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