#there’s a large chance that they’re sized up for visibility’s sake thought

[time-was-over]

trying to figure out how tall salmonids are and ripping my hair out

#orion.shut #orion (oc) #orion is 5’10 and also a chum. which seems tall but in-game chums are as tall as the player #there’s a large chance that they’re sized up for visibility’s sake thought #splatoon

[mutilatedmadonna]

A Heart To Heart Conversation (Not Literally Jesus Christ Where Did You Even Get That)

YOOOOOO made it with one hour to spare but ya girl still has her submission for the @secret-shifters gift exchange! This is for the lovely and talented @hiddendreamer67 who I was so fucking excited to write for! Also side note, I started a fic before this one but it was taking too long for my taste so I popped out this sucker instead. That being said like............why waste a perfectly good fic.............why not finish it eventually...........and still gift it to her since it’s techinically her prompt lmaoooo

I will go back and edit this post to include the AO3 link when I publish it :3c

Anyways

Warnings: Mild depictions of gore, fearplay; obviously, it’s all I know how to write whoops

Some people are great talkers, others are fantastic listeners. Some listen so well, in fact, they’re willing to destroy a government lab for you.

“Stop, please, I don’t want to hurt you!”

As if Derrick stood a fucking chance against the massive creature that was currently inching closer to him, crouched low to fit within the compound’s hallways. The alarm ringing was making his head pound, an unfortunate addition to his dizziness he’d been overcome with as soon as he saw the first body. Well, bodies. It had wiped out nearly every scientist and researcher in that sector as soon as it was freed from its cage, growling and hissing all the while as it dug its teeth and nails into the panicking humans. How it escaped at all was still a mystery and probably forever would be. As soon as it clawed its way through the protective lockdown doors into gen pop, all hell really broke loose. Guards tried and failed to take it down, hoping to wound the monster at best so that it could be recontained, but even as more backup arrived with heavier artillery, they never stood a chance. It was fast, it was strong, it was pissed, and it seemed to have a taste for blood and bones.

He didn’t know if it had any sort of plan beyond escaping the observational cage it had been trapped in for years, seemingly going into halls and sectors at random to slaughter the hapless scientists seeking refuge. The only reason Derrick had survived this long was simply because he ran and he continued to run. There was no use trying to hide, it was too good at tracking, so instead he did his damnedest to stay ahead of it. It had been working pretty well until he was stopped by the door at the last hall, a dead end to safety potentially. The only problem being his fucking keycard wasn’t high enough clearance to open it. He could hear it getting closer, hear the screams and crunch of bodies and deep growls that echoed all around. His breathing became more ragged the louder the sounds grew, knowing it was just one final turn away from being at the far end of the hall with a straight shot right to Derrick. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die like this. Not at the hands of this beast, not at the hands of...shit, what he thought was almost his friend.

It was his job to observe the creature in its confinement at night and take excruciating notes about every sigh and twitch it might make. It was truly as boring as it sounded, especially when the creature was awake a majority of his shift but only laid on the floor, quiet and still. It looked depressed and Derrick didn’t blame it. It had long since been locked away before he had even started at the organization, subjected to trials and tests day in and day out for hours so that the scientists could jot down these amazing discoveries. He had no idea what they planned on doing with all this data they were collecting given that this whole place was top secret, the creature certainly never meant to see the light of day. Or rather, people were never meant to see the creature. It’d cause mass hysteria. So, one evening, a few hours into the terribly dull silence he started talking aloud. Not to anyone in particular and not about anything exciting, just idle chit chat with the wall, really. 

He never expected the creature to perk up at the sound of his voice, eyeing him curiously as he continued on. He certainly never expected to turn his head back towards the massive bay window to see it sitting much closer than before. Still watching him with wide, yellow eyes and tilting its head when he quickly shut his mouth. It had never moved so close before, hell it never even showed interest in him before beyond a few glances when he’d first enter the small overhanging room. At the same time, it didn’t appear aggressive or annoyed with his mindless ramblings. In fact, when he had stayed quiet for a minute during their staring contest, it chirped at him. Like it was...encouraging him to talk again. So he did, nervously at first before getting back into the flow of whatever random thought he had at the moment. And every time the creature would just sit and listen, its full attention on Derrick, with the occasional dozing off in the midst of his longer topics. He wasn’t sure how much it actually understood him. After all, it never listened to any directions it was given during another trial, but then again that could have just been out of spite and defiance. It didn’t speak English to his knowledge as it had never once given him a reply, but that didn’t mean it didn’t know it.

It never really responded, but there were quite a few times it would react to whatever he was saying. He theorized it was basing most of its assumptions off of whatever emotion he was portraying in his speeches. When he was visibly upset about some incident with Travis down in aquatics, it would whine. When he was excited about some great news he was dying to share with someone, it would chirp. When he was exhausted for one reason or another, unable to keep his eyes open or his stories coherent, it would purr. Almost as if it was trying to lull him to sleep, which it succeeded in every time with its soft white noise. If he were to be honest, he genuinely looked forward to his evening shift just about every day. Derrick could get so much shit out of his head and off his chest without having to worry about what the creature would think about him later. Maybe this was just a trick of the mind, but...it almost seemed just as happy to see him as soon as he would appear in that bay window, immediately twitching its ears up and moving closer.

Clearly, the mutual bond was not reciprocated.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, why the fuck would the creature like him? He was just another human that stared at him for science and soon enough he’d be just another human ground under its palm until his organs burst. Perhaps it just liked hearing the sound of his voice, anything being better than the silence it was constantly surrounded in, or maybe it had always been sizing him up for a snack. He had never written any of these emotional reactions down. He didn’t...well, it was hard to put in the right words, but he just didn’t want his superiors to have that knowledge that could understand feelings for the most part. That it appeared to like him. That it could be docile. Almost like he was trying to protect it from more severe and psychological tests they would surely run. He wondered if things would be different if he actually did report his findings, like if they could have prevented whatever triggered its rage strong enough to rip down doors and walls.

It was creeping closer now, claws clicking along the concrete floor. It was absolutely soaked in blood, especially around its mouth and hands. The way its tail jerked side to side reminded him of an irritated cat, which he didn’t take as a good sign. It wasn’t like Derrick actually had something to protect himself with like he so claimed. His bluff was called in an instant and it made a throaty rumble in response to his threat. It had been difficult to see at a distance with the flashing, red light acting almost as a cheap strobe, but now that it was only a few yards away, he could very clearly tell there was something hanging from its mouth. Something large and dripping and red and oh Christ it was a body. He hoped the poor bastard wasn’t alive anymore for mercy’s sake, firmly clamped between its jaws and impaled on its fangs. Was that a sign of things to come for him? He pressed as much as he could against the lock door in a vain attempt to somehow phase through to the other side and reach safety. With no such luck, he slid down to sit on the floor instead and covered his head with his arms curling in tightly on himself. He was shaking something terrible and tears still managed to find a way to escape his shut eyes. This was never how he imagined he’d meet his end, but either way he didn’t want to see it coming. Maybe if it did like him just a smidge, it would grant him a quick and painless death. He doubted it, though. It sounded like it enjoyed the struggles of its prey far too much.

Derrick could tell when it was hovering right above him. Its shadow engulfed him, blood dripped steadily into a puddle in front of him, spreading out across the floor until it actually touched his shoes. Fuck, he couldn’t help the sob that escaped him. He was scared. Strangely enough, it didn’t...do anything to him as seconds ticked by agonizingly slow. Staring at him, he presumed? Just how it would when there was a safety window between them. Something heavy landed in front of him with a disgusting squish, splattering more blood onto him. When the silence stretched on again, he hesitantly cracked open an eye to see what was supposedly laying at his feet and immediately wished he didn’t.

It was fucking Travis. Or what was left of him, anyways, torn to shreds and missing a few vital chunks from his body. Derrick wanted to throw up, but his throat was already choked up with more panicked cries. He looked away from the corpse, not wanting to take in anymore of the gory details and instead looked at the face of the creature. It didn’t look upset in the slightest, not like how angered it had been dismembering every other unlucky human in its path. Instead, it just stared back at him with those same wide, yellow eyes, tilting its head at Derrick’s lack of reaction. It leaned down to nudge the body closer to him with its nose, pushing it against his legs and rumbling curiously. No, no, no, get it off, get it off!

“S-stop! I don’t fucking w-want it!” He cried, kicking his legs out to shove the remains away from him. What was he supposed to do with it anyways!? Why was it showing off its latest kill, like it was seeking his approval, like it--

...like it did it for him.

The night before last, he and Travis got into it again in the break room. He was already pissed about being transferred to the division the creature was in and leaving his previous work behind. It could have been because Derrick happened to be the only one there or because he was one of the younger hires, the asshole decided to take his frustration out on him instead. Snide comments turned into full on insults and all Derrick wanted was some goddamn coffee before he clocked out. Waiting for the machine to finish brewing wasn’t worth it at this point, he could pick up a cup somewhere else on the way home. He tried to leave, but Travis blocked the doorway and he, not being in the fucking mood, tried to shoulder past him instead. It was very much not appreciated as the next thing he knew he was being pinned against the wall, the lapels of his coat clenched in his fist. He was absolutely ready to throw hands with this guy before he backed off suddenly, another coworker entering the break room with a cheery greeting and total obliviousness.

Maybe he should have told his superiors about the incident, but he chose instead to vent about it to the creature the next night. As soon as he mentioned when it got physical, its ears flatten back and it growled, though Derrick was too consumed by his own emotions to really care about its apparent threat display. After that was when it had clawed its way to freedom and started its rampage. That...that couldn’t have been what set it off though, right? There had to be other catalysts surely. However, it didn’t change the fact how eagerly it was presenting the mauled corpse of his aggressor, almost as if to say look! For you!

Did that mean...it really did understand him? It understood enough that Travis had tried to attack him and he was not his biggest fan right now. He had been really worked up during that little rant, too, probably making it sound worse than it actually was. Either way, it didn’t like that and took matters into its own hands. Or, mouth rather. This must be its interpretation of protecting him, killing the threat before it could strike again. Good thing he wasn’t one to usually bad mouth coworkers or the creature possibly could have had its massacre sparked by Derrick being mildly annoyed that Sarah always forgot to clean out the coffee filter when she was done.

The creature looked at the body as it was kicked back towards it, whining slightly. Was it upset that he didn’t accept its gracious tribute? That wouldn’t start another fit of anger, would it? He thought it just might when he scoot forward those remaining few injuries to press its face against Derrick’s trembling body. Its bloody mouth transferred an unfortunate amount of gore onto his clothing, but he had other things to worry about, like how close its fucking mouth full of fangs was to his more important organs. The nose buried into his chest rubbed gently, trailing up his neck and to the side of his head. Purrs rumbled with each quiet breath, taking care not to accidentally deafen him. He still cried out when the creature invaded his personal space, though he didn’t have much room to struggle as he was pinned between the door and the face. He whimpered regardless, trying to turn his head to avoid being nuzzled and ultimately failing.

If he thought the impromptu cuddling was bad, he was in for a worse shock when the creature pulled back just a hair, foolishly thinking that it finally had its fill of smelling him or scenting him or what the fuck ever. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, not when a black tongue darted out from smiling lips to lick him from his stomach to the crown of his head in one, quick swipe. Now that made him actually scream out some sort of pathetic, strangled sound, squirming about as he was lapped again and again and again.

“N-no, don’t, p-please!” He begged uselessly, “D-don’t kill m-me, please, p-please, don’t e-eat me!”

Much to his surprise, the creature actually pulled away from him after that last remark, tilting its head questioningly again. While Derrick was in the middle of his panic attack, doing his damnedest to keep his cries from becoming too harsh, it crossed its arms and rested its head on them, watching as he tried to collect himself to no avail. When it seemed like he was starting to slip deeper into his episode, it started to purr. Quiet and soft, a nice noise to help drown out that increasingly annoying siren. And the worst part was that he really was actually starting to calm down. Not that he liked being so scared he couldn’t breathe, but it was the sheer fact that it was the creature bringing him comfort when it was the one who terrified him in the first place. His sobs quieted down after a few minutes and when they were ragged breaths instead, it started to chitter. Little chirps and purrs and throaty noises he could only assume were directed at him since that’s where it was staring so intently, though the sounds meant nothing to him. Was that how it felt when he used to talk to it for hours on end?

Was it trying to talk to him to soothe him, because him talking to it made it feel relaxed?

He supposed their time together was a much needed break from being poked and prodded and tested and it started to associate Derrick with that mini luxury. The talking probably gave it a sense of company considering he had no fucking clue if and where other members of its species resided. Maybe this friendship wasn’t as one sided as he thought. Maybe it cared so much about the stupid little human that would blather his entire shift that it was willing to rip the facility inside out just to get rid of his bully. One by one his muscles started to uncoil their tension until he was sagging against the door. His breathing was still labored, but he could at least get a steady breath through his nose rather than his gasping mouth. A minute tremor in his hands was all that was left of his previous quivering and his headache was now replaced with a cloudy exhaustion. The creature was still making its imitation noises, only tapering off when Derrick managed to raise his head up and look at it.

“You won’t hurt me...will you?” His voice was so small and weak, it was a good thing the creature had fairly strong hearing.

It responded by bumping its nose into his chest again, smiling all the while. Affection. It liked him. Hesitantly, he raised a hand and gingerly placed it on the creature’s cheek, giving it a tiny pat.

“...you...you know we’re fucked when the army comes...right?” They were a last resort when all other failsafes went south and had yet to be deactivated. It wasn’t their job to find and help survivors, it was their job to make sure nothing about this event was leaked into the public. Be it the experiment itself or scientists who could potentially blackmail the directors.

It shifted to push itself back into a crouched position, lowering towards him with its mouth open. He flinched and turned away which seemed to be exactly what it wanted, clamping down on the back of his shirt and jacket and narrowly missing giving his back a nasty scrape. Derrick all but squeaked in surprise when he felt himself be lifted up, dangling a few dozen feet in the air. It was like he had the same POV as the creature, watching its hands paw at the locked door until claws were able to scratch through the metal in large gouges. Wiring and mechanics were exposed as a result and with a little more tearing and pulling, it opened the entry wide enough for it to slip through, Derrick in tow. Huh. Guess keycards we’re always a necessity. 

He hadn’t the faintest idea where they were headed, but it seemed like the creature had a general sense of direction and so far it was taking the correct route to the surface, to outside. For the moment, he didn’t have a single thing to say and simply let himself sway with the creature’s gait. Its intentions with him after they escaped into the world above were pretty vague at best, but he couldn’t really find the energy to care right now. As long as the military hadn’t beaten them to the exit, they’d be fine. 

They could talk later about their really unconventional future later.

#secret shifters 2020 #g/t #gaint/tiny #fearplay #macro/micro #g/t fearplay #my fics #oh my god i hope you like it #im sorry if the paragraphs are kind clunky??? #google docs and tumblr and ao3 all format them differently otz #also my beta is asleep so guess what hasn't been proofread because this girl has no reading comprehension #MEEEEEEEEE #but also like for real i hope you like it #and if not #i give you permission to curse me

[blue-and-dog]

The Beast in the Mountains (A Sengoku Basara One-Shot)

Note: This story is centered around my fanon that, post-Sekigahara, Mitsunari and his family fled into the mountains to live in hiding for several years before his death. A wife is mentioned, but for the sake of this story I keep her ambiguous so you readers who have an OC shipped with him can just slap her in there. :D Shiranui’s profile is here.

TW: BLOOD, ANIMAL ATTACK

[[MORE]]

“That’s a good size fire; try and keep it like that for now.”

The group of men sat around the small fire; four dirty, tired, ragged men on the run from proper society, obscured by the darkness of the mountain’s dense forest, barely illuminated by the small fire. Sadanobu continued.

“Any brighter and we risk attracting animals. I’m already worried about smoke flowin’ through the treetops.”

“With how thick these trees are?” Gaku chuckled, “I’m surprised the moonlight even gets through here. We’ll be fine. We just gotta make sure to put it out before we call it a night.”

“You sure no one’ll find us up here?” Naofumi asked, as usual fidgeting with his hands out of anxiety.

“Relax, I did some scoping out of the town not far from these mountains,” Matazaemon shook his head, “They’re superstitious folk. Somethin’ about an old legend saying there’s a guardian spirit that lives on this mountain. People who go too high up the mountain end up in its territory and meet a horrible fate or some shit like that. That’s why I wanted to set up the camp so high up.”

“Besides, we’re not staying long...” Sadanobu pulled out the thick sack from behind him, “We gotta get to my guy in Kyoto and pawn all this off.”

Another successful heist for the unlikely group of criminals; two army deserters, a farmer and a gambler, able to pool their strengths and successfully rob their way across the East. Traveling nobles, temples, inns—nothing was safe. The country was a mess—they were just taking the opportunity to help themselves.

“That last temple was hidin’ some good loot!” Gaku said excitedly, “I still can’t believe how lucky we got! Lemme see again!”

Sadanobu rolled his eyes, but smiled and passed the bag to Gaku, who excitedly opened it, tilting it toward the light of the fire to see the inside; the head of the gold Buddha glittered back at him. “We got enough goodies in here to eat like kings for weeks!”

“Man, I haven’t eaten a decent meal since the Toyotomi...” Sadanobu sighed and leaned back. “It’ll be nice...”

“Hey, yeah, you were a Toyotomi guy!” Matazaemon laughed, “I was Oda! I know your pain.”

“You’re kidding! You don’t strike me as an Oda guy.”

“And you don’t strike me as a Toyotomi!” he cackled back, as the two howled in laugher. Gaku and Naofumi chuckled along.

“You know, you two never talked about your army days,” Naofumi pointed out, “We got time—why not start now?”

“It’s really nothin’ much,” Matazaemon shook his head, digging through another bag to grab a rice ball and start distributing them amongst the group, “I joined up so my old man didn’t have to, wound up havin’ to do a lot of killing and burning and pillaging that I really never wanted to do. Watched all the major generals shining above everyone else, while the foot soldiers were trampled beneath them. Date, Takeda, Uesugi...they were the kind of guys that really made war seem like a fun time.”

“I know what you mean,” Gaku replied, “They made it look like something we should aspire to. I almost joined up with Date myself, but...when folks from the Date came around enlisting able-bodied men, I took off so my mom wouldn’t have to see her only son die for the sake of some egotist who just wanted more land for himself. I wonder how she’s doing...?”

“That’s the thing about these generals and daimyo,” Naofumi shrugged, “They shine brighter by standing on the backs of their soldiers.”

“Oda was a complete monster, though,” Matazaemon grumbled. “All of his inner circle were. Moment I got news Akechi killed him, I took the opportunity to turn tail while everyone was scrambling around. Never looked back.”

“Similar to my story,” Sadanobu nodded, “Hideyoshi was a creep...even standing near him put me on edge. And his supporters weren’t any better.” He leaned forward, looking down into the fire. “I remember one day, when I was training...apparently his general, Ishida, didn’t think I was making enough progress. By some mercy, he kept his sword sheathed, but he beat me with the sheathed weapon in some twisted attempt to strengthen me. All it did was strengthen my resolve to get the hell out of there soon as I could. Glad he’s dead.”

“Is he, though?” Naofumi raised an eyebrow. “I thought it wasn’t confirmed.”

“He and his family were in Osaka castle when some folks raided it after he lost Sekigahara. The whole place went up in flames; there’s no way an impulsive guy like that had any escape plan to get out of there undetected. There were so many burnt corpses in the castle afterward once the fire was under control; he had to be among them. He wouldn’t have run. He never ran.”

Naofumi closed his eyes in thought. “Maybe. There’s always a chance.”

“Don’t even start. I don’t wanna think about the possibility that that asshole’s still out there somewhere. And even if he is...he’d never willingly show his face again.”

The wind seemed to whisper above them. And a rumbling came from the woods around them.

“What was that?” Naofumi looked up, now apprehensive.

“Probably just an animal attracted to the light,” Gaku reached toward the fire, grabbing a burning hunk of wood from it as he stood up. “Wave this around a little bit and they’ll be gone. I’ll do it.”

Gaku turned from the group, heading through the brush, waving the burning wood around to light his path. Big, dramatic steps and stomps to intimidate whatever was near, his companions watching from afar.

Then, his head perked up, as if he spotted something. But before he could speak a word, he let out a choked-off cry, the flame dropping and going out.

“Gaku!” Matazaemon cried out as the group stood up, on high alert. Then, the loud thumps of quick but heavy footsteps, and a vicious bark and snarl, as a large, white blur lunged forward, biting Matazaemon by the arm; the force knocked him to the ground as he felt the arm pop out of place. He howled a mix of pain and fear.

Naofumi stared in shock and horror at the large wolf now viciously yanking Matazaemon to and fro like a rag doll, blood soaking its teeth and maw. But Matazaemon’s screams finally snapped him to attention as he pulled out his knife, plunging it toward the beast’s side in a panic.

He missed the stab, but the blade did slice the wolf’s side, as it let go of his friend and instantly turned on him; its jaw snapped open, going for his throat, and as he fell back, he looked to Sadanobu for help.

But Sadanobu had fled. Even as the wolf snarled and tore into him, Naofumi could hear footsteps approaching, and hear something slice into Matazaemon, silencing his howls of agony.

Sadanobu blindly pushed his way through the brush, his face a mix of fear, of terror, of snot and spit, while he tried to process that he was alone now, on this mountain, at night.

The Beast of the Mountain was real! That was no ordinary wolf! That thing...that thing was a monster! So fast, so strong! He had to leave its territory.

He had to get down the mountain.

He tripped in his panic, falling and rolling a ways, before finally sliding to a stop, staring up at the break in the treetops to see the moon. He began to sit up, but froze.

Footsteps. Two feet.

He began to hyperventilate, wondering if the beast had changed form, to come after *him.*

But the moon began to make his pursuer visible. And he could see those thin, angry eyes glaring down at him.

Those thin, angry eyes from all those years ago.

And he began to wail.

“IT’S YOU—“

SPLURCH!

That one slice caused his insides to burst out of him, as he fell back, gurgling his final sounds, the world around him becoming black.

....

And Ishida Mitsunari flicked the blood off his old sword before sheathing it again. His intuition had been correct; the noise and dim light he saw from his home wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him; someone had the audacity, once again, to venture that high up the mountain. And they needed to be dealt with swiftly, before he risked them finding him.

Grabbing the body by the leg, he began to drag it back with him toward the campfire. As he did, he whistled a short whistle, as the snarls and barks from before were replaced by panting; he found the wolfdog standing by the other two bodies, his curled tail twitching in satisfaction. Dropping the first body’s leg, Mitsunari knelt down.

“Come here. Let me see.”

The dog padded forward, allowing Mitsunari to get a closer look. Removing his right glove (revealing a hand scarred from burns), he ran a hand along the wound in the dog’s side; the dog let out a small whimper, but didn’t panic.

“...it’ll scar, but it’s nothing serious,” he muttered, “We’ll treat it when we get back home. Good work, Shiranui.”

His children had named the dog when he brought the pup back to their home two years prior, having found the pup attempting to steal one of the pheasants he had hunted. Now fully grown, it was clear the dog took mostly wolf traits...but, at his core, Shiranui had always been a loyal dog...especially to his master.

Once certain the wound wasn’t serious, Mitsunari turned his attention to the bodies. Retrieving the last one from a ways away, he wasted no time rifling through their pockets and satchels for supplies. Medicine, food, tools...anything usable, he gathered into the largest bag. As he came across the sack containing their ill-gotten gains, he pondered the contents for a bit...before shaking his head. He had no need for any of this. Gold and the like wouldn’t keep them alive. Wouldn’t keep them safe.

One by one, he dragged each body a ways up to the cliffs, before rolling each body over the edge with one smooth motion, watching them get swallowed by the darkness below as he listened to the impact of them striking the cliff side, the stones, the tree branches....and lastly, he tossed the sack of treasures, too. Good fortune to whomever finds them, he supposed. It didn’t matter to him either way. Either way, the Beast of the Mountain had maintained its status as something to be feared.

Returning to the camp and snuffing out the fire, he let his eyes readjust to the darkness, before looking to Shiranui’s bloodied face.

“Let’s wash your face before we go back.” His wife hated when the dog came back from its hunts and meals looking like that.

After stopping by the stream to clean off the dog’s face and wash the wound a bit, they began their quiet trek back home, their loot in hand. Nearly three years of this life...and sometimes, it was still wildly unfamiliar to him.

He should have died at Sekigahara. He should have taken his life when he failed to avenge his lord.

He should have.

But he didn’t.

Now he was a spent match; the fire of battle had long left him, and now he was smoke, drifting about his new life, though sometimes, that little fire would come back. Sometimes, he would remember why he lived.

Off the beaten path, past the troublesome terrain, there stood a small house. His house. It was no Sawayama, it was no Osaka Castle, but it was home. And it was here that he quietly slid open the door, only to flinch slightly, startled by the shape of his wife’s feet in the moonlight shining through the door. In her arms, the smallest of his children, his only daughter, little Tatsuhime, fast asleep and undisturbed.

“...how close were they?” his wife asked in the softest of voices.

“Close enough to be a problem,” he replied. She could tell he was willfully omitting details. Details that would distress or upset her. He clearly didn’t want to elaborate further. Other than, “Shiranui’s hurt. I’ll stay with him tonight.”

She gave a quiet nod, quietly vanishing into the tiny hallway, as she, too, was swallowed by darkness.

Mitsunari retrieved a cloth, taking a seat against the wall and beckoning the dog over; Shiranui obeyed, laying down as Mitsunari pressed the cloth against the wound. The dog rested his head on his master’s lap, while Mitsunari rested his own head against the wall.

He could faintly hear the rustling of his wife setting Tatsuhime down to sleep; undoubtedly between her two older brothers. His wife was then rustling into bed as well.

He didn’t know when he’d sleep.

But until then, he’d remember why he lived.

#sengoku basara #ishida mitsunari #Mitsunari Ishida #fanfic #basara #Sb fanfic #blue writes #fan fiction #fanfiction #capcom

[isladeroda]

Chapter 1 - Heartbeat of Steam

It was one thing to hear the location described in the debriefing. An underground base of sorts, forged entirely out of brass and running on steam. True to what the group had been told, exposed cogs and pumps were visible the moment the beheld the entrance to the lair of their enemy. The hiss of steam could be heard from deeper within, and already, the amount of noise filling the air made it clear that communicating within the structure was going to be difficult. Luckily, that had been discussed ahead of time, and hand gestures had been practiced for many different situations.

Doctor Clara stepped tentatively towards the entrance, her hand-picked team of Operators at her sides and front. Operators Cuora, Alcatraz, Heat, Scavenger, Shirayuki, Projekt Red, and Perfumer had been selected to take part, but another guest had been selected - Rhodes Island’s own Head Engineer, Closure. Her presence was deemed necessary in case the group ran into any unfamiliar machinery, and the Head Engineering Officer was deemed the best fit - no doubt in part to her eagerly volunteering for a chance to check out the unusual engineering in play.

“Wow, despite how archaic the technology seems, this is actually pretty advanced...” As the group got closer, the Sarkaz took every opportunity she could to examine the machinery, nodding to herself a few times. “Already I can tell there’s a number of redundant systems, not out of laziness, but to pick up the slack if any one part fails... And how they manage to get them all to work together when the primary function is unnecessary is astounding... Hmmm...”

The group stopped at the entrance, not just to let Closure look a little closer at the machinery, but to gauge things immediately. If the enemy group had learned they were coming, they’d either ready an ambush, or try to bait them deeper in... And the Doctor knew the latter was unlikely, so after a few moments, the team proceeded to push in further.

“Agh, I can barely hear myself think...” Cuora complained from her place near the back of the single-file formation, her voice nearly drowned out by all of the noise. Similarly, Projekt Red was clearly uncomfortable, only in part from the noise, but as the temperature had clearly rocketed up at least another 10 degrees, Red had already regretted bringing her heavy coat. Shirayuki, befitting her usual modus operandi, had disappeared above them, presumably traveling by means of the pipes that hung overhead. Everyone else, thankfully, seemed more comfortable in the heat, yet the knowledge that they wouldn’t be able to communicate traditionally hung over the group.

The hallways themselves were thin, but rather than typical, solid metal, they were clearly more along the lines of maintenance catwalks, the heavy steel mesh that served as their footholds and the railings that kept them from falling off the side were all hung over more exposed machinery, likely for the sake of ease of access in case any of the seemingly-delicate machinery failed. Now and again, a square of walkway that split into multiple other hallways would “circle” around an important-looking piece of equipment that Closure would pause briefly to examine before the group could continue their exploration.

And yet, Doctor Clara was totally on edge. The lights were literally still on, but nobody was home. They hadn’t seen a single foe since they began to probe deep into the facility and explore, no signs of security... Nothing to stop would-be intruders. Occasionally they came across a locked door with no way to open it from their side, and had to turn back, but that was the only real security measure, and one easily subverted, as there had to be a way to open the doors - a control panel or the like.

Eventually, the team exhausted all of their options, and began traveling down one final path, before eventually coming to a room with a series of conveyor belts that crossed overhead and underneath, carrying metal scrap and unusual-looking parts. Was this a manufactory of sorts? And who was using it? Perhaps this was the group supplying weapons to Reunion... However, unable to make anything other than an educated guess, the group soldiered on, eventually coming to another locked door...

All seemed hopeless before Shirayuki appeared before them and, using hand motions, submitted the idea of using the conveyor belts to travel. The openings were large enough for a person to fit through, though they’d likely want to avoid the ones with scrap on them - those were likely being melted down, and the group would definitely not want a death by melting in molten metal. The group nodded unanimously, before they found a conveyor belt matching their prerequisites, and leaped down onto it.

Curiously, the sound of machinery began to quiet as they followed the conveyor belt, though it was still ever-present. Soon, it opened up into a larger room where mechanical humanoids were clearly being assembled... By nothing other than automated tools, cranes, and mechanical arms on an assembly line. As the group hopped off onto the floor of the assembly room, Closure in particular excitedly examined the various pieces of equipment while everyone else was on-guard.

"There’s no workers, no guards, not even any repairmen... This is beyond strange.” Heat stated, his eyes narrowed and his hand firmly on the weapon at his side. “Even a place like this can’t run fully automated... Can it?” Alcatraz and Scavenger nodded in agreement, very clearly on-guard while Projekt Red and Cuora kept close to Closure, both making sure to keep her safe while she made her observations, and also a bit curious as to the goings-on, themselves.

“You’re not wrong.” Closure eventually spoke up, turning to the group. “Even automated systems need someone to monitor them, moderate them... Ensure that they’re all working accordingly and fix them when they don’t. And for a system with this many moving parts to it, there would have to be at least some repairmen or engineers we’d have encountered on the way...” The group pondered on this idea for a brief moment, only to be interrupted by Perfumer voicing her thoughts.

“Um... I know this might be a stupid question, but... what if it self-repairs?” The group looked between each other as Closure thought to herself before checking a piece of machinery and looking closer. For a few moments, the others weren’t sure what she was looking for, before she stood up straight again and wore a grim expression on her face.

“You... might be right. Less so fantastical as self-repairs, like... It’s not just magically fitting everything back into place. There’s no Originium in these machines, as far as I can tell to facilitate something as absurd as artificial Arts, but... It’s possible they even have an automated repair system.” Scavenger was the first to ask what that meant. Did they have repair arms in the walls behind the gears or something?

“No, nothing so unnecessary... It’s likely that there’s automated drones that fly - or more likely walk or drive - out the moment an error in the system occurs.” Closure spoke with an air of near-certainty. The more she thought about it out loud, the more and more it all seemed to fit neatly into place. “The redundant systems can keep the facility running at partial capacity, while the drones repair the primary functions... It’s like a backup generator for any given piece of machinery. Frankly, it’s genius. There’s just one small problem...”

“...Someone still needs to moderate all of it. Even just check up on it once in a while.” The Doctor spoke up, looking over to their engineer. Closure nodded in agreement, her arms crossed over her midsection in thought, a grim expression on her face.

“So we’re likely to meet whoever we’re looking for deeper in the facility.” Doctor Clara said, speaking to the rest of the group. “But we still need to locate a control panel or something similar from which we can begin to operate the doors in conduct a full search. So for now, that will be our goal. Understood?” The group verbalized their understanding before beginning to move out once more, quickly locating an operable door and walking through.

On the other side was another, brief hallway, that soon lead to a set of stairs going up. Following the staircase, and one more door later, soon the group was treated to a large room with numerous bits and pieces of machinery on the walls, operating at a much quieter volume than the other areas of the facility. It almost felt like a break room for the team, if not for the fact that a terminal and a set of monitors was located on the opposite side of the room that the group quickly rushed over to.

“Well, that was easy! Thank you, sensible lair design~” Closure had already begun to work with the keys and buttons, quickly figuring out their purposes as she went through the data on the terminal. Soon, she realized she was into more important files, including one labeled “Doctor’s Reports”. Had she perhaps just discovered the jackpot? The personal files of someone part of the R&D team responsible for this place, perhaps? “There isn’t even any internal security, which is - ”

The Sarkaz had clearly spoken too soon, as the machinery on the walls suddenly came to life violently as an alarm began to blare throughout the room. The floor opened up near the walls, almost immediately followed by Terran-sized containers rising up through the holes. With gushes of steam that briefly filled the room and soon dissipated through the vents throughout it, the containers opened up to reveal a number of mechanical humanoids wielding various weaponry, from bows and swords to axes and spears.

Immediately the group drew out their weapons and prepared to engage the enemy on the Doctor’s orders. Looking back to Closure, who met her gaze and nodded, Doctor Clara began to issue orders to her group, holding off the advancing robots while Closure began to work through the system and turn off the security systems.

The waves of robots seemed almost endless, but after a minute or two of fighting, the alarm finally died down and the containers that dived down and rose back up with new soldiers finally retreated for good. With the final robot defeated, the Operators all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sorry about that~!” Closure looked back with a wink and an apologetic grin. “Must’ve tripped something, because I think I’ve got some really good stuff here... Sadly, it’s all encrypted, so I’ll have to get it backed to Rhodes to get it analyzed, but from here, I can totally access the rest of the facility! We’ve got our ticket in, folks!”

“All right.” Doctor Clara nodded to Closure, who began to upload the files in question, before looking to her team. “We’re gonna regroup to Rhodes Island, everyone. Likely adjust our team formation, now that we know more of what we’re dealing with, but I think you’ll all still take part in further exploration of this facility. Understood?”

Replying in the affirmative, the team prepared to leave as Closure finished up her copying of the files. Even as everyone began to talk about the possibility of what may lie ahead, Doctor Clara’s sinking feeling didn’t fade just yet... What was this place for? It seemed way too complex to just be a weapons construction facility, not to mention the lack of intelligent personnel... And on top of all of that...

...Why did it feel so familiar...?

#reading the reports || story post #the brass prison || story 1 #I promised the drabbles would be longer from this point on -

[crypticcatalys]

A Second Chance For A Home Ch.5

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4

   The dorms were surprisingly easy to find in the large compound. They were separated into two areas by a long hallway with few embellishments, men on one end, females on the other. The dorms themselves were small and roomed four people each. It was a tight fit.  

   Most of the new arrivals were being roomed together for simplicities sake. Neya and Ashley coincidentally found themselves being roomed together with two other women. A junior ecologist named Bea Mayeso and a solider named Andrea Richards. Being used to having at least two roommates her entire life Ashley wasn’t that uncomfortable with sharing her room with other people. But of course the second the pair entered the room they were met with two confused and slightly shocked stares followed by a customary greeting. Both of the women seemed nice, if not just a little cautionary for some reason. 

   The room itself was simple. A set of bunk beds sat across from each other on both sides of the room, in front of each were two storage cabinets with the last name of their owner spelled out on its front. The only other thing in the room was another door on the right of the dorm that lead to the bathroom. They were all silent as they unpacked and claimed a bed for themselves. Neya and Bea took the bottom bunks while Ashley and Andrea claimed the top beds. Ashley ended up above Bea. 

   No one really spoke when they went to dinner, or after either. There was no tension in their silence, they just chose not to speak. 

   The bed was softer than Ashley had expected it to be, which said a lot in her case considering the fact that she normally found things like yoga mats to be softer than most beds. Laying on her new bed a few hours after dinner the teen felt tired but couldn’t fully sleep. Rolling onto her side she looked across the dark room. The shadow of the other bunk was barely visible. The only sign that it was there was from the light snoring from Andrea’s bed.

   Ashley did not dream that night.

   Almost everyone was woken up the next morning at six o’clock sharp thanks to the clock built into the wall of their room. Neya though somehow slept through its loud beeping. Sitting up from her bed Ashley listened as someone got up, most likely Andrea as the girl heard something drop to the floor on the other side of the room, and haphazardly slapped at the controls of the device until it shut off. Mumbling something about schedules, the woman grabbed what was probably her uniform from her personal cabinet before turning on the room’s light and walking into the bathroom that was connected to the dorm beside them. Deciding that there was no use of staying in bed and being bothered by the light of the now lit up room, Ashley pushed herself out of bed and took a pair of grayish green scrubs out of her cabinet. Grace had caught her and Neya at dinner to tell them that they would need to wear them for their first link. 

   Walking into the bathroom that was as equally grey as the dorm room the teen make quick use of one of the open showers and changed into what she would be wearing for the rest of the day. After she was done she took a moment to look into a mirror over one of the bathroom sinks. Her normally brown skin had changed some after not seeing the sun after five years, she had lightened to a caramel brown. But other than that, nothing had changed from when she was back on earth. She was still the same short height, still had the same dark brown eyes, same hair cornrowed back. Still fifteen.

   By the time she left the bathroom Ashley still had about an hour until she was needed in the lab. Not knowing how to pass the time she decided to wait for a now awake Neya to finish her morning routine so they could leave together. Forty-five minutes later they were on their way. Norm met them at the halfway point of the hallway separating the two dorms, excitingly asking if they were nervous about linking and just being happy in general. Grace was waiting for them at the entrance of the main science lab, seeming pleased that they arrived a few minutes early. 

   Following her to the link room Ashley stole a glance to where the tank holding the second her was the day before. The tank had been moved so that one of its ends were connected to the wall of a separate room. All three of the tanks had been drained and were in the process of being sprayed with water and disinfectant. This was it.

   “So how many hours have you logged?” Grace asked them, referring to the mock link training all drivers had to partake in as she led them to their link chambers. “About five-hundred hours.” Norm answered before walking over to the chamber Grace pointed him towards. “You?” “Four-Seventy.” Ashley said, remembering how proud she was to have reached that number. She was still. 

     Heading towards the chamber meant for her she offered a small smile to the link technician that stood by the monitor connected to the machine. Opening the pod Ashley looked down at its teal, soft, inside which held the cutout of a human figure. Laying down in it the link tech pulled a skeletal wire frame down over the top half of her body. “Just let your mind go blank.” They said smiling before closing the lid of the pod, leaving the girl in a blueish darkness. The only light coming from the small LED's on the wire frame. Closing her eyes Ashley willed her mind to go blank as she listened to the soft whirring of the machine. Then she felt a small tug at the back of her mind. Like her brain was connected to a thin thread. 

   And for a moment light was everywhere. And then everything was out of focus.

   “.....shley...Ashley....” She felt herself take a breath. “She’s in.” A blurry thing was above her, no wait, it was a human. A woman? Someone shone a light in her eyes. “Pupilatory reflexes are good.” A man said. Someone else snapped their fingers beside her ears, she felt them move. 

   Everything slowly started to become clear. Two medics were standing over her, each wearing a exo-pack and white scrubs. 

The room was annoyingly bright.

   The female medic spoke to her first. “How you feelin’ Ashley?” “Good.” She answered, or more accurately, croaked. The teens voice sounded different?New? She wasn’t sure how to describe it, it was still her voice after all, but maybe it was because this was the first time she ever used her voice in this body. It was bound to sound a bit off she guessed. Raising her head a bit she looked down at her body. ‘Trippy’ was the only thing that came to her mind at first. Pushing herself to sit up fully, the girl looked at herself in wonder. She was completely blue. The blue stripped arms moving their fingers were hers. The blue legs and feet moving ever so slightly were hers. This was her. And it was amazing.

   Breaking out of her small trance Ashley looked around the room. Everything was white and sterile smelling she noticed. Normally that wouldn’t bother her seeing as she was so used to being in sterile environments, but now it was a bit overbearing. Everything seemed too sterile, too perfect. Looking to her left she saw Norm fully sat up stretching his arms, and to her right she saw Neya getting light shone in her eyes. Looking down at the female medic she couldn’t help but giggle. “What’s so funny?” The woman asked, smiling at the teen’s random reaction. “You’re tiny.”

    In her human body Ashley was by no means tall. Standing at five feet and one inch everyone she met had been taller than her. Now she easily towered all of the humans in the room. 

Swinging her legs over the side of the gurney she was sitting on, she felt something on her lower back move. Oh yeah, she had forgotten about that, she had a tail in this body. Before she could marvel at the fact that she had an extra appendage a crash sounded behind her. Turning to the source of the noise she saw Neya standing up from her bed, leaning on one the windows of the room. Her tail was knocking into things beside her bed as the medics were yelling at her to sit down. Max, who was watching them from a observation window, was telling Neya to listen to them, telling her that what she was doing was dangerous. “They’re gonna pull you out.” Norm tried to warn her.

    The medic trapped between the wall and bed yelled for a sedative. But it was way too late. Neya had managed to pull off the monitor leads connected to her and open the lab door that lead outside. Norm followed her. Ashley, going against her better nature while being hopped up on the euphoria of being in a new body, followed them. The world spun as she stood. But somehow she made it to the door and outside. 

   She felt the sun first. It’s warmth greeted her as she took her first real step into the alien world. Then she felt the grass under her feet. Soft, real, grass that wasn’t made out of plastic. And then she looked at the sky. It was clear, something she never saw often on earth. She could see the planet they were orbiting in all its glory, she could even see Pandora’s sister moon! And finally she looked in front of her. She saw Neya running farther away from the compound like her life depended on it with Norm trailing behind her. But Ashley didn’t focus on them. She focused on the green surrounding them. 

   Everywhere she looked she saw the unmistakable color of green. From the grass under her feet to the dense jungle that sat right outside of the boarder of the base. Everything looked alive, felt alive. She felt alive. 

And so, she ran.

   She ran across the basketball court in front of her, passing two very confused drivers. She ran past large wooden hurdles and tall obstical courses that other drivers were using, climbing and jumping like it was the easiest thing in the world. She ran into a lush garden with rows upon rows of plants, each one a different size and shape. Some even having colors that she hadn’t even thought possible back on earth. 

   And then she almost ran into Norm.

#avatar 2009 #avatar #Avatar Fandom #avatar fanfiction #fanfiction #Look who finally updated #writing #poc oc

[spidony-starker]

Exposed.

How Tony and Peter’s sexual desires (and more) came out in the last way Peter expected. But he isn't complaining ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A bit of angst, alcoholism, and toxicity, with lots of lust, humiliation, and a tiny bit of weird realism end fluff.

It was finally evening after a long day of working in Tony’s workshop. On days like this, Peter stayed the night in his own room, and he couldn’t be happier to flop onto his computer chair. He had one little problem, a problem that disturbed him for hours. As he sat there he wasted no time in sliding his hand down his pants.

   Throughout the day he attempted to sneak away every chance he had, he only needed a minute, just a damn minute, but Tony wouldn’t let him. He always needed something right as he pulled away, something magically urgent when it didn’t seem like a big deal to the boy.

   He would find himself pushing against the table corner, struggling to keep desperate whines from escaping his lips. The perplexed look Stark gave him every time he groaned made his heart skip with fear.

   “Nnnn..” Peter’s breath hitched as he gripped himself with his fingers. It was typical for Tony to drink after long days, Peter figured he’d be passed out soon enough. “Ahhh, shit..”

   Peter pushed at his pants till they slid down his strained thighs, his hand frantically working at his leaking cock. “Ohh god, god, g-god! S-shit, Mmm-! Mr. Stark!” Peter slapped a hand over his mouth, praying his shout wasn’t heard. “Fuck…”

   Peter froze in horror at the sound of creaking floorboards, flipping his body as he yanked his pants. After a few moments, the doorknob of his door twisted. Petrified, Peter swiveled the chair, still gripping onto the waist of his jeans.

  As the door opened, Tony stood there, a slight frown on his otherwise nonchalant face. One hand rested in his pocket while the other held a glass of whiskey. Peter remained frozen, his chest heaving. How long was he out there!?  “U-uhhh, hey, Mr..uh..uh.”  Tony leaned against the frame and tilted his head. “Really?” Peter’s lip quivered. “Mr. Star-”

   “Really? You scream Mr. Stark when you jack yourself to me? Really?” Peter swallowed nervously and recoiled as if he were being hit. “Uh..”

   “Why don’t you just say Tony for fucks sake?” Peter’s expression changed to a confused frown as he tilted his head. “W-wait, what?”

   “You’re always so formal, I just thought every time you touched yourself you’d actually say my name.” Tony’s words slurred drunkenly.

   Peter’s face burned red with extreme embarrassment. “Uh Mr- I-I don’t know what to do here. Y..you knew!?”

   “You think I don’t see your little pants tighten whenever we’re together, and how you run off for a good two minutes and come back like you just took opioids? Of course I knew. And I was sick of it.

   Yeah, I was just waiting till you couldn’t contain yourself, I was gonna wait till you tried to slip away and force you to hand me a wrench or some shit, anything to keep you waiting till you damn near jizzed yourself.”

   Peter was speechless. “It’s not like you had it easy and I wanted to make it harder for you, you’re not the only one with a problem kid. It’s not the best thing in the world that I want to rip the clothes off of, throw on a table, and fuck and ravage a sixteen year old kid raw till he’s nearly bleeding.”

   “O-oh my god…” Peter fidgeted uncontrollably, clasping his hands over his ever growing member. “I have morals kid and they’re micro sized when put next to this shit. But it must be so easy for you, oh, getting your dick wet over you’re “hot af mentor”, yeah I saw that golden little line in that journal of yours

   Oh no, that’s perfectly okay, being a little slut for a fifty-two year man.” While he spoke he walked into the room till he was nearly looming over Peter. As his voice got louder Peter could see a large protrusion forming in his pants.

   The mixture of fear, excitement, and not knowing what the fuck was going on made him tremble uncontrollably. It was like he was thrown headfirst into a suffocating dream. This allowed him to be able to even look at Tony, his eyes half lidded as his heart thumped wildly. It even allowed him to speak regardless of the complete shame.

   “You knew...um..this entire time? You..read my writing? Morals? Really? That’s a joke, Mr. Stark. And...and maybe I call you Mr. Stark because it reminds me how much of an old man you are, considering I’m a “slut” for one and all.”

   Tony’s eyes widened slightly as his jaw visibly tightened. Peter felt like he was gonna pass out, but continued anyway. “And, to be fair, if you have enough morals to want to fuck an innocent sixteen year old boy who you happen to mentor and get really close to on a day to day basis, and to read his own journal..

   How come you’ve never..swept them away and...and fucked me already? If you knew I wanted it so bad? Why not do it? It should be like swatting a fly, right? It…” Peter stopped. Tony gripped his glass so hard his fingers turned white, his eyes dark like black fire.

   Oh shit...I really fucked up. He’s gonna kill me, he’s really gonna kill me. Tony nearly lunged at Peter, his glass shattering on the floor as he grabbed him like he weighed nothing, roughly holding onto his small body.

   Peter yelped in surprise as his limbs went completely stiff. “M-mr. Stark, please, I’m sorry, what are you-” Tony took a few steps before tossing the body onto the bed. Peter crumpled before pushing himself against the wall, looking up at Tony with giant doe eyes filled with sexual desire strangled by fear.

   The scent of alcohol emanated off the angry man. As Tony looked down at him, a smirk had formed on his lips while he crossed his arms. “Innocent? Really? Innocent boy? I think not, I think that’s horse shit. If your so innocent why did I find what I found?

   Why do you sneak away to fuck yourself? Why do you spend every waking minute you can with me, why do you breathe so deeply, and why do you want to be destroyed by an old man? To have any shred of dignity after asking why I haven’t fucked you yet? You may as well be begging me on your knees!

   You’re already doing it in your head, and with that little body of yours as you stick your ass out after “dropping” something, yeah, I saw that too. This entire time. You should just take a pen and write “fuck me” on your forehead, it’d be damn near as apparent as what you’ve already shown me.”

   Before Peter could speak, Tony leaned forwards and gripped his jaw, making him jolt. The roughness of it ached while the whiskey on the man’s breath stung his nose.  “Nnn, please! Tony, y-you’re drunk.” Tony laughed harshly and shook his head.

   “Don’t be stupid. I’m not doing this because I’m drunk, Peter. I drink because of how I feel for a kid. It kills the guilt, until it doesn’t, and then I drink more. Problem solved, right?” A terrible feeling washed over Peter. “You’ve been drinking again..because of me?”

   “Don’t give yourself all the credit.” Peter frowned. “No but- but..I’m sorry.” Tony gritted his teeth. “Don’t pity me Parker.”

   “I’m not! I-I just.” Tony covered his mouth. “Enough.” Peter whimpered and twisted his head. “T-tony…” Tony bared his teeth.

   “There it is, there’s my name. Say it again.” Peter’s brows furrowed pitifully. “Tony…” Tony snickered. “You’d do anything for me, I can see it. Anything, except be truthful. Calling yourself innocent, ha! Fucking hilarious, that’s a joke. Just like my morals, just like you said, hm?”

   Peter shook, his entire body icy cold and heated like fire at the same time. “I-I would, I’m sorry! Im-”

   “Ah ah ah.” Tony tilted Peter’s chin up with his fingers while his other hand pushed him against the wall. “No more lies. Tell you what, we can end this now. If you tell the truth this time, right now, then maybe your little degenerate wishes will come true. And older men don’t lie right? Not like little boys do?

   Sneaky little boys who think they’re as slick as their wet dicks?” Peter felt tears in his eyes, making them shine with fear. In his pants his cock hardened and swelled so painfully the slightest touch would send him over the edge screaming. All he could do was nod.

“Okay sweetheart. Just answer these questions truthfully, understand? I want you to speak clearly, no bullshit. Any lie, anything you hide, and you’ll regret it.”

    He let his hand slide onto Peter’s neck where he gripped it firmly. “I’ll touch you with my fingertips but you won’t be cumming for a week, got it?” Peter nodded again, brisker this time.

   Tony smiled devilishly. “Okay. First off, you wrote all about how desirable I was, yes? All the things you’d let me do to you? In the little book you’d carelessly or purposely leave open on the workshop table?” Peter grimaced and tightened his lips, nodding slowly.  “Remember the rules, say it.” Peter hesitated. “Y-yes…”

   “Good, now, did you touch yourself all those times you’d run away with a hardon? Because you’re little libido couldn’t handle standing next to me?”

   “Nnn, y...yes.” A small tear fell from the corner of his eye. “And did you really try to tempt me and lure me like some kind of whore?” Peter shook and struggled not to recoil. Within seconds of silence Tony took his hand and jabbed between Peter’s legs, causing him to nearly wail.

   “Yes! Yes I did! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just wanted you to see me...I wanted to make you feel things like I did, I was desperate, I-”

   Tony cut him off. “Next question. Are you a sneaky little slut?” Peter whined as the tears kept falling. “Yes…”

   Tony pressed his hand against Peter as his volume raised. “Who wants me to fuck the life out of you?”

   “Nn- yes!” Tony inched closer. “To submit  like I own you? To repay me for what you’ve done while you lived your fantasy?”

   “Yes, Yes! Please, Tony, yes!” Tony tilted his head and grinned. “Last one. You’re being a really good boy right now, even though I’m basically wrenching it out of you.” He paused a moment.

   “Do you want me to fuck you right now? Actually, heh, wait, don’t answer. I already know the answer, it’s a bit of a reoccuring theme. I want you to ask me, no, I wanna hear you beg for it.”

   Tony began to roughly massage Peter’s throbbing erection. “A-ah! God..nn, Tony please-”

   “Please whattt?” Peter squeezed his eyes shut. “P-please! F-f…” Tony used his free hand to point at the door. “I just remembered, I have some work left to do that’s pretty important, maybe I should do it, do you think so~?”

   “Fuck! Dammit! Fuck me, Fuck me Tony! God, please...” Tony’s eyes lit up as his cock twitched in his pants. Animalistic, he grabbed Peter by the shoulders and pushed him against the mattress, gripping onto his wrists so his arms stretched out.

   “You made me wait so fucking long, Peter. It took every ounce of my consciousness not to slam you onto my fucking work table!” Peter twisted, wanting so badly to cover his red face. As he looked at Tony his eyes were half lidded and cloudy.

   “Nn..I... wish you would have. You made me wait too.” With that Peter lifted his head and roughly pushed his lip’s into Tony’s, the sweet taste of scotch coating his tongue.

   Tony’s hands slid away from Peter’s wrists so they could grip his face, the older man pushing the boy’s head down with the pure force of his lips as his tongue slid right into his mouth.

   Peter moaned, Tony’s taste was driving him crazy. While Tony’s hands began to wander down his shirt, Peter’s hips bucked as he desperately tried to push himself into Tony.  

   “Mmmff-Tony, please, mmm-! Mm-want you!” Tony pulled away and looked down at him as he roughly thrust against his groin. “Yeah?”

   “Mm-hmm!” Tony pushed himself upwards, stopping a moment to admire the absolute mess beneath him. As he straddled the boy, he ripped his shirt off, throwing it aside. Peter’s nipples were completely hardened, his pale skin pink.

   As he pulled Peter’s pants, Tony bit sharply at his nipple, causing him to whine. He then trailed his tongue all the way down Peter’s torso, stopping as he yanked his jeans down.

   “My, my, look at this.” Tony slid his fingers under the waistband of Peter’s boxers. “Did I really do this to you?” The man licked his lips. “I could breath on it and you’d cum. Hopefully you don’t pass out after what I do to you.”

  Peter’s dick bobbed at the throaty growl of his voice. The older man really meant it. Tony slowly slid the fabric down inch by inch until finally Peter’s cock bounced into sight. The deep pinkness of it glistened with moisture while precum leaked heavily and dripped down the length.

   As Tony took his shirt off, Peter’s breathing quickened. “Oh fuck…” The boy couldn’t help himself as he slid his hands up Tony’s muscular figure, gripping tightly with his fingers. Tony smirked and grabbed his hands.

   “I’ll be nice enough to ask for this, you’ll thank me later. Grab lube.” Peter tilted his head, barely able to hear Tony’s words through his haze. “What?” Tony motioned to the bedside drawer. “Lube, now, or you’ll be torn in half.”

   “O-oh, right.” Peter twisted his body, ignoring Tony’s knowledge of the contents of his drawer, and grabbed a sleek silver bottle. Tony grabbed it from him, wasting no time in squirting the liquid onto his fingers. He then positioned himself so he crouched below Peter.

   “I take it you’ve never been fucked up the ass before, besides doing it yourself?” Peter tightened his lips. “Y-yeah…”

   “Alright, well I’ll go slow for you, at first. You’ll warm up quickly.” With that Tony took a slicked finger and pressed the tip against Peter’s tensed entrance. “Nn..” Peter gripped tightly onto the sheets.

   Slowly, Tony allowed his finger to slide in. His demeanor became a bit softer and more diligent. “How’s that, good?” Peter shivered and nodded in response. Once the full length of his finger was in, he curled the tip before sliding out.

   With rhythm he continued these movements as Peter squirmed, his opening becoming slicker and less tight. “Alright, now two.” Tony pressed his fingers together and pushed them in, stretching Peter as he thrashed about. Tony was becoming slightly impatient. “Three…”

   “Nnngh shit-!” Peter’s skin burned with the repeated rubbing, pushing his lower body upwards into Tony’s large, rough fingers. The pain, the stinging, it caused his vision to blur. When Tony finally took them out, he wiped them off and grinned at Peter.

   “Okay, I think you’re nice and ready.” Tony leaned back and fiddled with his belt, sliding it out and tossing it before unbuttoning his pants. Once those were off, all he had left was his thin boxers, the front of them soaked.

   Peter whimpered in anticipation, realizing he hadn’t seen the man’s dick before, regardless of wanting it so bad.The boy lifted his head to see as subtlety as he could. Tony smirked and gripped the fabric and peeled it down, allowing his cock to be fully exposed.

   Peter’s heart leaped as he dropped his head back onto the mattress and squeezed his eyes shut. God, he was huge. Tony beamed as he could see what he could do to the boy. It was definitely boosting his ego.

   The man bit his lip, adjusting his position so he laid against Peter. One hand grabbed the boy’s hip, while the other reached down to grip his length so it lined up to Peter’s opening.

   As the warmth of his tip prodded, Peter mewled and clasped his hands over his mouth. Tony rose his eyebrows and grinned. “It’s funny how it all worked out, we both got what we wanted in the end.” The man laughed as he dug his nails into Peter’s soft flesh.

   “Tony...please for the love of-” Tony took the boy’s hands from his mouth, leaning down so he was only inches away. “What? I can’t hear you.”

   “S-stop stalling! I’m not the only one being tortured here, y-you said it yourself, you want it! Come on!” Tony tilted his head, still gripping Peter’s hands in only one of his. “Ah, but ‘torturing’ you is a luxury.” Tony pushed against him.

   “Nngg- Tony! I already asked, please. F-fuck...” Tony released the boy’s hands so he could firmly grab both of his hips. “So demanding…”

   “Tony!” The man bared his teeth. “That’s Mr. Stark to you you little slut.”

    Before Peter could retort, Tony thrust forwards with pure animosity. Peter’s breath hitched as he gasped. “A-ah, h-holy shit!” The painful sensation quickly bled and ignited into pleasure.

   Tony couldn’t hold back anymore. As he finally entered the boy he couldn’t tease, couldn’t go “slow”, all he could do was relentlessly pound the life out of him. Peter arched his back, a moaning, babbling mess.

   “Ngh, jesus T-tony!” Tony looked down with dark eyes as he slammed into him. “What did I say?”

   Peter whined and scratched at the sheets. “B-but-! You wanted me to say your- nnng..name!” Tony leaned down and gripped Peter’s face in his hands. “Mmm..I don’t know what’s better, fucking you or fucking with you.”

   Peter frowned and stuck his lip out. “Y-y-you’re an ass..!” The boy sloppily pushed his lips into the man’s, moaning in his mouth as his tongue slipped in. Tony grabbed his soft lower lip between his teeth, his fingers entangled in Peter’s hair, thrusts becoming more frenzied. “Ngh..Fuck..Peter..”

   Tony slid a hand down and gripped the boy’s cock in his hand, roughly massaging it in his fingers. Peter threw his head back. “F-fuck..so good, Ah-! Yes, Tony, yes!”

   The kid’s mewling, needy moans were driving the man crazy as he pounded right against Peter’s sweet-spot. “Nn, right there! Tony Tonyyy.” Peter wrapped his legs around the man.

   An electric warmth sped through his body. “Tony-! Close…!” Tony groaned. “Hah..hmm..?” Peter tightened his grip. “I’m..gonna, ngh!” Tony’s frantic pace indicated he was too. The man removed his hand and dragged the wetness up Peter’s body so it was back in his hair, tugging it.

   As Peter felt complete ecstasy wash over him he grabbed the man’s face in his hands, his eyes wide and hazy as he locked them with Tony’s. “Ah ah ah! I-I’m cum-nnh! I..I love you~!”

   Peter kissed the man, his cum squirting onto his stomach, it’s sticky warmth smearing between their bodies. Tony’s pace quickened furiously, his breath heating Peter’s neck as he squeezed him in his arms.

   “F..fuck, fuck!” The man hissed and gritted his teeth as he came, filling Peter’s throbbing body. “A-ah..Tony..!” Peter whimpered, the prolonged sensations suffocating his convulsing body. Tony collapsed, both their breathing heavy and bodies hot.

                                                                  ***

    Moments passed before Tony lifted himself and pulled out, groaning as his cum poured from the boy.

   Rather than cleaning the mess, he rolled over so he laid next to Peter. For a few minutes neither spoke, till finally Tony turned on his side so he could eye the satisfied mess that was Peter.

   “Wow…” Tony grinned. “Hmph, I’ll say. You might be a little sore.” The boy groaned. “Oh man…” Tony laughed and shook his head. He then leaned forward and scraped up some of the mess from Peter’s stomach, rubbing it between his fingers.

    “So how was it, as ‘awesome’ as you imagined?” The man’s tone was teasing. Peter’s skin turned red once more as he covered his face. “Uh, yeah. There was no way I could have even..that was..I, um, good. It was good.”

   Tony scoffed. “Hah, loss for words? But you were so out of your shell just minutes ago, what happened? Shouting lots of pretty words.. Well, parts of them.” Peter frowned. “But, there is one thing you said..”

   Peter grumbled. “Nnnnh….” Tony leaned forwards, sweeping Peter’s hands away before tilting his head so the boy looked at at him. Peter squeezed his eyes shut.

   “Peter, look at me.” Reluctantly, Peter slowly opened his eyes. “Why’d you say that?” Peter frowned as his heartbeat quickened. Why did I say that, I’m such an idiot.

   “Say what..? Please don’t make me talk about it..” Tony rolled his eyes. “That you love me.” Peter winced. “Um…b-because…”

   “Is it true?” Peter recoiled, pulling away from the man’s hand. “I..yeah..ugh, I’m sorry.” The boy rubbed his face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I thought it was obvious..I know it’s dumb..”

   Tony furrowed his eyebrows. “What, so you think you’re some kind of fucktoy now?” Peter’s eyes widened, filled with glassy hurt. 

     Tony’s face softened. “Kid, don’t look at me like that. I’m not some playboy.” Peter frowned. “Tony…”

   At times like this, the boy couldn’t handle the older man’s wry sarcasm. “Okay okay, look, how long have we been working together? Months? How often are you here? Kid, you got your own room.”

   “Yeah, but..I’m just…” Tony tilted his head. “Hmm?” Peter shook his head. “How does that matter? Just cause you wanna fuck me doesn’t mean…”

    The man sat up. “Pete...okay, I’m sorry. I know I was drinking, I know I’ve been drinking, I got carried away earlier, the alcohol didn’t help. That’s something I need to figure out. Sorry for probably scarring you, reading your shit, invading your privacy, everything. But, it’s not like I’d take a kid’s virginity if..” He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

   “This entire time I’ve wanted to do this just as badly as you. The rest...it’s a bit harder for me to admit, I know. It should be. But It’s all wrong. Look, sexual feelings can be closed off for a responsible adult. Even if the other gives blatant evidence they feel the same, even if they are constantly around you. The fact that you are literally a kid, underage, illegal, that puts a damper on things.

   That was more reason to shut it off. But, that’s not all there was. And that made it ten times worse. But I really put myself under when I followed you after working today, I knew what you were gonna do as soon as you got here, and fuck, you did it. I heard you for the first time. And, well, you know what happened from there.

     I’d like to say I have dignity and any sort of self control. Besides every terrible thought to now, I’ve held it together, with booze and muted insanity as my glue. But It doesn't matter now.”

   Peter tilted his head. “So...y-you…” Tony sighed. “Just..come here.” Tony stretched his arms and pulled Peter into his grasp so the boy laid his head against his lap. “God, Pete, do I need to spell it out?

   I would never have done this if I didn’t.. feel this way. Who do you think I am? But, it’s still an issue. A gigantic issue. You want me to scream it from the rooftops? Get arrested?”

   Peter pouted slightly as he looked up at the man. “Yes…” Tony rolled his eyes before taking Peter’s face in his hands, kissing the boy. “You...are an amazing kid. And I enjoy your company..more than I have anyone else’s in a long time. And it’s fucked up, and you’re so fucking smart, and perceptive, and you control me when you don’t even know it. And sometimes when you do know it. The fact that a sixteen year old impresses me, and does this to me, it doesn’t make any damn sense. None of it does and yet here I am.”

    Tony rubbed his face and sighed. “I’m in love with a kid. Jesus..happy? You realize how bad this is right?” Peter’s heart fluttered as his lips curled into a smile. “Yes.”

    “Pff. Who would have thought it’d end like this, hmm? Not too long ago you looked like you were gonna piss yourself. Again, I’ll admit, I got a little carried away.”

     The boy lifted himself and flopped down onto the man’s lap. “A little? Yeah right. You went crazy.” Tony smirked. “How can you blame me? Watch it, it might happen again. But I bet you wouldn’t mind.” Peter glared at him as his skin flushed.

    “So..what would have happened if I didn’t say what I did?” Tony shrugged. “Who knows, don’t think about it.”

    “Well...what are we gonna do now?” Tony sighed. “I don’t know kid. But what I do know...” He traced his hand down the boy’s spine before grabbing onto his hip. “..Is that I can get used to this.”

    Peter shivered. “Tony..!” He grumbled and pushed his head against the older man’s chest, holding onto him with tight arms. “Me too...”

____________________________________________________________

I’m a bit obsessed with doing Tony’s dialogue.

Also I wrote this from like 2-4 AM, so I apologize for any mistakes.

#starker #starker fic #tony x peter #peter x tony

[fogboundsurvivor]

No Mither

No Mither

NSFW Fanfic by D. Johansson

David worked at the generator tirelessly, fumbling with the wires inside. He was so dead tired of running. His friends had already fallen and for whatever reason the escape shoot had not appeared for him. It was as if the Entity wanted to be an extra bitch on this cold night in Haddonfield. He tapped the wires together, hoping to make a spark, which he did, but only made the generator jump and let out a loud noise. It sputters and dies. He curses inwardly.

Ghostface stalked David from the shadows, crouched down and in Night Shroud. He could tell this particular iteration of David was different from the last. This one had a beard and he definitely didn't seem to know his way around the generator. He had already had his way taking down all of the other 3 survivors in the trial but was surprised to see that this David didn't even seem to know that. This sent an excited chill down Ghostface's spine, he was going to enjoy this. He would go about scrapping a knife against the wall, making a noise loud enough for David to hear but not know the source of.

David gulps...and moves toward an open window, but the window’s paneling comes undone and he falls backwards with a grunt. He looks up at the window and sees that it’s been blocked off by the entity. He was confused, but he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise when he heard the sound of a knife dragging against a wall. He made a move for another window, only for the entity to block it off to. He turns to the doorway..

To find that there was nothing there.

There was a moment of pure silence before suddenly David was grabbed from behind, a knife's point immediately being pressed against his neck.

"Gotta be quicker than that, Davey boy! The Entity doesn't like any slow poke survivors."

The Ghostface's voice was giddy, like he had caught a mouse in a trap that wasn't dead quite yet. Oh he couldn't wait to do all the things he wanted to do to this David

“Wait...Wait...please don’t.” David pleads, eyes darting for anything he could use. His own heart was in his throat. He could just faintly smell the vaguely minty breath of his captor. And also some rather fragrant cologne. Guess the killer wanted David to know he was there. David tried to get out of his grip.

“Oh I'm not going to kill you just yet. I've been a good little boy so the Entity said you're free for me to do what I want before I send you back to another campfire."

When he noticed the struggling, he would go forward with making a slight cut on the neck that wasn't fatal but also sent the point across that if he struggled it would only make things worse.

“Maybe if you're a good sport, I'll let you escape. Just got to play along and don't be a brat."

David grits his teeth and slowly puts his hands up* “What do you want with me...?” *David asks quietly, he was afraid to make another move, he could feel blood trickling down his neck, staining his black undershirt.

“You Davids have been running me rabid all damn day. With your altruism, getting in the way of hits and always being there to help your survivor friends on the hook."

The hand that was previously twisting one of David's arms in an uncomfortable position moved away to grab the man's ass.

“You help me vent my frustration and the hatch is all yours."

David’s eyes widened at the grab..and he shuddered. Partly due to fear...and partly due to the first stirrings of arousal. He shook the later thought away. Nobody’s touched him in god knows how long.....

”No.” He told himself. This was a killer. Who just murdered his friends. That took away the arousal and he heard Ghostface click his tongue

“I’m...sorry.” David said...trying to keep him talking.

"Oh, David. You have no idea how excited that makes me. An unwilling participant this late into the game is so much fun."

Ghostface sounded disappointed in the beginning of that but it turned into excitement very late into it.

“Thank you for this opportunity."

With that, Ghostface would move the hand off of his ass and onto his shoulder. With his far superior strength granted by the Entity, Ghostface basically sprinted forward with David coming along for the ride. It would go on for a moment before Ghostface came to a stop, only he let David go. He let David go right into a freefall down the staircase to the basement, Ghostface finding a sick thrill out of watching David ragdoll down to the landing in the stairs.

David groans and yelps when he hits the bottom. He could tell that his ankle was definitely broken. He turns and crawls for the front door, before being blocked by the body of Dwight. His shirt and pants had been sliced open and his face had a used condom thrown ontop of it. Along with a Polaroid photo of...Ghost face facefucking him. David, grabbing the wall, pushed himself to his feet and he stepped over the violated body of Dwight and limped into the street. He made it to the cop car and went around it, sliding to the floor and looking over the hood. He could see Ghostface walking out of the house. A predator in its element. He was definitely doubting his chances of the hatch at this point. He looked to his already bruising ankle and let out a quiet moan of pain. Trying to stifle the sound by breathing through his nose.

“Bastard...” David whispers to himself. He looks back at his ankle then back towards the Myer’s House. Ghostface was gone and David felt himself turn pale. Panicked now, he limped into a side yard.. a hedge park by the looks of it. several rows of park benches lied within. He sat himself down slowly by a hedge and took off his jacket and shredded it. Trying to make some bindings for his ankle. What he didn’t hear was the click of a camera just out of the way..

There was Ghostface, looking at the slowly developing polaroid in his hand. He seemed to be enjoying himself, chasing after the injured David.

“Wow, David. Getting too excited and ruining all the fun for me? I wanted to tear up the jacket myself."

He would walk over and kick the man over, getting him down onto his back before he would go to step down firmly on David's crotch, hard enough to cause some mild pain but not too hard just yet.

"You like what happened to Dwight? Little nerd did better than I thought. Better than Jeff and Jake, that's for sure."

David groaned as his head hit the grass, he felt Ghostface pressing a boot into his crotch and let out a whimper. He looked up at him, trying not to let his fear express onto his face.

“You..did that to all of them?” David asks.

"Well, why not look for yourself?"

He tossed down two polaroids for David to look at.

One was of Jake, he had been caught just as he finished sabotaging a hook and Ghostface had kicked him down right as the hook fell down, right on Jake' poor leg. The picture had Jake with his eyes rolled back as he was taking Ghostface from behind.

Next was two for Jeff who was currently suffering a similar fate. He was mid chase when he accidentally leaped a window right as Ghostface did. Thanks to Ghostface running Bamboozle, Jeff was effectively stuck in the window. The first polaroid was of Jeff's backside, flooding after a few uses and the other polaroid was his front side, his hair being the only visible identifier as his face was completely coated.

“They're nice photos. I took them myself."

David’s eyes widened and his chest heaved. He tried to move backwards, pushing with his good leg, but Ghostface’s boot on his crotch kept him in place. The pictures of his friend’s stretched open holes and the subsequent demises fresh in his head. He turned to look away, before laying flat on the ground.

“When they entity took me in, they told me I could have anything I desire as long as I killed you fools for it."

There was an unzip before Ghostface would move his foot away, leaning over to grab a handful of David's hair before sitting him up. He would sit him up so David could be meet face to face with Ghostface's massive cock.

“I told it I wanted this. I get to have my fun and the entity gets it's sacrifices. Quite the equivalent exchange."

David felt it against his face and he blushed a little. The man’s cock was massive...much, much bigger than he’s ever seen. He felt a little emasculated by the size of it. He looked up pitifully at Ghostface.

“You’re huge..” David said quietly...feeding Ghostface’s ego.

“How about we strike up that deal now? You take this to the hilt from both ends, and the hatch is all yours. If you reject it now, I'll do it anyways before I shove you on that hook."

He would cock slap David. Seeing the normally confidant David suddenly made into a whimpering bitch felt amazing. He loved it so much and couldn't wait to feel this again with other Davids later on.

David always thought he was straight...until he was pulled into the realm of the entity that drunken night. He spends what felt like eternity of lonely escapes before he ended up surviving with Jeff one trial. The two met back at the camp fire and Jeff asked David if he wanted to talk about the trial..David reluctantly agreed. It ended with Jeff going for the first kiss... then introducing David to the first pierced cock he’d ever seen, licked, sucked and taken.

David closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, before nodding. He looked up at him and opened his mouth wide, licking the tip of his captor’s cock.

A flash would appear in David's face, Ghostface taking a picture for memories sake. He had to show the other killers he never messed around after all.

“Got it for publicities sake, anyways go faster." Ghostface demanded, and its all David would get before Ghostface would move forward and part of his cock was shoved into David's mouth.

David took it a step further, taking as much of the cock he could down his throat. Tears running down his face and he bobbed his head onto it, one hand going up to fondle the large set of balls underneath the monster cock as well. He gagged and saliva ran down his chin and as worked the cock as aggressively as he could. Trying to get the ordeal over with. Hoping if he came...maybe he wouldn’t violate him further.

Ghostface would grab his head to make him stop, in order make him look up at him.

“Remember our deal, the whole thing has to go in that mouth David."

He would let go in order to let him proceed.

David tries his best, struggling to get down to the hilt of his cock. He gets onto his knees and feels a mix of salvia and pre cum fall out of his mouth. He gets frustrated and grunts, trying to take it further. He ends up choking and letting the cock slide out of his throat as he gags on air and sputters. His vision swimming from the coughing fit.

“Got 10 seconds. Start now! 1..2...3.."

Ghostface gave David 10 seconds to get a nice breath before he gets back to work on his cock. He had plans later, like gloating to Joe's smug mask about how much better of a killer Ghostface was.

David goes in for it again, only gagging immediately. He whines in defeat before looking up at Ghostface pleadingly.

“Please..I can’t do it...” David admits..face red from both embarrassment and effort. He lays on his back and spreads his big thighs apart “Please...just fuck me...use me...just don’t kill me like the others..” He whined.

“I’ll be good...so good...please.” David begs, tears running down his face.

Ghostface would go around back to his mouth.

“Oh don't be a fucking bitch David! You're going do it whether you like it or not!"

He would grab his head and in one quick motion, shove his cock in and jam the entire thing down his throat. He knew the Entity would make it to where David would only dry heave and he knew the Entity was above allowing asphyxiation being a cause of death here. He would hold him for a few seconds before letting go of David.

David sputters and chokes on air...feeling his throat get throughly resized. After realizing he couldn’t choke to death, he grabs Ghostface’s cock and shoved it down his throat pushing Ghostface’s hips towards his face as if to say “Use my mouth.”

As sick as it was David was kind of turned on by being used like a slut by someone stronger than him...perhaps that’s why he enjoyed fighting and violence. The pain always was his drive...

He felt drool slides down the sides of his mouth as the spit and throat slicked cock pumped in and out his mouth. His lips were bruised and cracking at the strain.

"I was planning on sending you back to the campfire with a souvenir. My cum all over and inside your pathetic body."

It was rare that Ghostface broke someone and it was extremely rare that it was a David. This was getting far more interesting. He was going to make sure everyone at that camp fire knew exactly what happened here.

David could feel Ghostface’s balls rest on his face. He pulled off the monster cock and sucked and licked on them, stroking the massive cock above him...he even got bolder and went to give Ghostface’s hole a sloppy lick. He was lost...hopeless and wanting to please the man that held his current fate in his hands... He tongued his hole and then went back to furiously and sloppily sucking on his monster cock. His ankle throbbed and he was getting covered in various viscous layers of saliva. David’s rebellious attitude was lost..only a cock hungry slut remained. He wanted to please his captor so bad...he felt the tears still running down his face but he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to live and pleasing this monster was his only way out. That did not fly so well with Ghostface. He would force David off his cock and would pick him up and slam him down bent over a picnic table.

“That wasn't in our little deal, Davey.... I guess you can't teach a dog to listen. The hatch never opened, Davey. Your chance of escape was done the moment you fell down those stairs. Might as well enjoy what happens next before you go back to the campfire." Ghostface taunted.

He would line up with David's hole and without even giving him a moment to brace himself before just shoving inside of David. He had some mercy before but this was nothing held back. If only David had listened.

He could feel Ghostface trying to penetrate him through his sweatpants and he let out a startled chuckle. “Think I may need to lose the pants before ya do that..” David taunts. Since his fate was sealed, he felt adrenaline pump through his veins.

There a moment before a knife came down directly down on David's back, narrowly missing his spine or anythint vital, before it would go back to cut open his pants and boxers.

“You want to be a little shit huh? I'll show you want little shits like you deserve."

With that, the hilt of the blade would go up David's ass without any sort of grace or theateric Ghostface was known for.

David howled at the sudden penetration. He could feel it go about four inches inside before being stopped by the guard of the blade. He let out a groan, leaning into the table. He could feel the cold air around his as his muscular ass, balls and limp cock were exposed to the air.

“Motherfucker...ahh...shit...” David spat out.

“I was going to make it quick but bitch decided he wanted to do slowly."

He was not happy, he'd reach in his coat to pull out another knife. He'd pin David's head down before he would very roughly cut away at his beard, with sense of caution or percision when it came to it.

David watched his facial hair hit the table sadly. He was really enjoying his beard...he felt humiliated as he could feel his hole tighten around the hilt of the blade. He shifted his position slightly and moaned quietly as the hilt rubbed against that spot inside him. His face and ass both felt raw now. “Fuck....I’ve...been bad.” David groans into the table.

He would grab his hair and pull his head up, getting semi close face to face.

“You're damn right." Ghostface whispered huskily into his ear.

The knife would come down to pin David's right hand to the table before Ghostface went to the back, removing the knife before lining up with his cock instead. With the same amount of mercilessness, he would shove his cock inside of David.

David lets out a bloodcurdling scream as he feels his hand get pinned to the table. Before he has time to process that, he feels all 13 inches of Ghostface’s thick cock tear open his abused hole. He lets out a painful yelp and groan before feeling his legs turn to jelly. Ghostface would thrust with wreckless abandon as he mostly did it for the sake of punishing David at this point. Even though every wound on David was going to disappear after the trial was over, he wanted to make sure David was going to remember the pain for a very long time. David looked down and he could swear he could see Ghostface’s cock rearrange his guts through his stomach. He swore he could see it poke the flesh of his belly from within. He felt sick...but he felt the thick member continue to hit places inside David he didn’t know he had. He cried out again...his eyes wet and swollen as he felt his own cock swell with arousal...all this pain was beginning to feel way too good to him. “You’re going into shock.” He tried to remind himself to no avail.

“Fuckme....fuck...me....please...god hurt me...” He moans out.

"I'm going to ruin you, David. I want to make sure that nobody is going to make your ass feel as stretched as I make it tonight. Everytime your whore ass tries to take someone smaller, you'll remember me."

He had no doubt in his mind that nobody else the Entity had in their grasp came close to his size. This was going to be David's torture, the constanty longing for Ghostface's cock that he'll never feel again. It was going to be so sweet. “God...I can...feel you so deep...!” David says, and pushes back into Ghostface’s cock and arches his back. Taking the punishment with vigor now. He could feel his hard cock rubbing against the rough wood of the bench now. He was lost in lust now. He knew Ghostface was ruining his hole, and he loved every second of it...maybe after this he would get the guys to run a train on his so he could try to feel this kind of deep, unrelenting pain again.

Ghostface would go for what felt like forever, using whatever ungodly stamina the Entity had given him. Ghostface has already had a plan for after the trial. It took thousands of perfect trials, gritting his teeth through Mettle of Man, Borrowed Time, and Adrenaline on survivors or purple rarity flashlights to get 4 Kills for it.

He begged the Entity and he got it. The survivors of this trial were being sent to a different campfire, one where Ghostface or any killer he allows can enter, and use the four broken mindless slut survivors.

David was half collapsed onto the table, broken and a groaning mess. He had already cum twice onto the bench seat and his balls were swollen beyond belief. He was just waiting for the sweet release of death and Ghostface at this point. He could barely feel his hole anymore, only the massive sex organ rearranging his guts inside. He wondered how much energy Ghostface had left at this point..

Ghostface would slam to hilt inside of David before he came deep into the quote unquote survivor. It was massive and it felt so nice to get another load off for the end of the trial for Ghostface. He'd pull out and let it flood out, similar to the backside of Jeff polaroid.

“Well thanks for playing this game, David."

Finally, Ghostface would pull out his knife from David's hand.

David whimpered at the knife being pulled out and sunk into the table, he could feel the cum pushing its way out of his abused hole.

“Do it....finish me off...” David says quietly, pressing his forehead into the table.

“Gladly." The Killer says,

With a flash of his blade, he would raise it up and then....

David would open his eyes to find himself back at the campfire.

“Holy shit...” David says, feeling his face to find his beard miraculously still there. He looked around to see Jake, Jeff and Dwight all sitting there quietly staring at him.

“What?” He asks, before he feels a gallon of cum slide down his leg. “Oh fuck...that was..”

“Real?” Jeff finishes.

David lets out a soft whimper as he strips out of the pants and cleans himself off. He throws the remains in the fire and watches it burn. He pulls on some track pants and shudders.

He silently wonders what the hell did it mean.

[marklineson]

Lost in a Loop (#02)

Kim Jongdae x Fem!Reader

You keep losing your memory every time you fall asleep. Is it possible for someone like you to live a normal life and experience a romance that lasts a lifetime?

Word Count: 5.1k

Genre: Fluff, Angst; 

Title Track: To Reach You (Memory Control, PD48)

Warning: lots of occasional swearing bc idk, they’re all stupid kids and need help with their anger management (war of hormones, otl) & a bit of violence & drinking; also lots of cringey moments;         -Rosy out;

#02 Enchanting.

- May 05th, 2018

“You're up late today, son.” Jongdae winced under the stern glance of his father, fastening his steps as he made his way through the living room, with the kitchen as his destination.

He had ended up falling asleep around 5 in the morning, and now, five hours of nightmares and uncomfortable twisting and turning later, he had decided to get up and call it a night. He was sure you had already gotten up, not remembering a letter of the conversation you'd had with him, but he was worried.

Why did she do that?, he constantly questioned himself as he poured himself the rest of the instant coffee his father had prepared for breakfast, Why did she ask me about my feelings? Is she interested in me? He felt a tiny spark of hope flare up behind his sternum, but then again it also could have just been the heat of the beverage in his cup.  

He flipped the case of his phone aside and opened said conversation, shaking a bit when he saw your profile picture next to your name.

Do you love me?

I don't know, he kept whining in his head, How am I supposed to know? I'm eighteen years old, for fuck's sake. Frustrated, he slammed the phone shut again and sat down with a bowl of cereal in hand. I must have been out of my mind when I said yes- let her reread our conversation and she'll think I'm a creep. Shit.

~

As if on cue, his father stepped into the room the moment Jongdae hat put the last bit of milk in his mouth, spoon still hanging from his lips when the bowl was snatched away from him.

“Ey! Dad!”, he exclaimed, his father gifting him with another stern look.

“It's Saturday, Jongdae.”

“I wanted to at least eat some breakfast before I meet up with the guys and-”

“Didn't you promise me to help out today because you got home late yesterday?”

Ah, true. Detention had caused him to get home late yesterday. He mentally kicked Chanyeol, but then again, his friend had gotten the worst punishment ever after school in form of his harpy girlfriend.

“So... you really want me to help out at the clinic today?” His father simply nudged his shoulder, ignoring the pout on his Jongdae's face.

“Money is earned through hard work, son- especially when it comes to part-time jobs.”

“Uh-huh”, Jongdae answered, gulping down the rest of his still hot coffee -Seriously, how long had he sat down for breakfast? Five minutes?- and got up to follow his father through the entrance area and the white door that connected the living space of the house with the vet clinic his father owned.

“So, what can I help you with? Did the supplies arrive yet?” His father blinked at him, obviously impressed, nodded and motioned for Jongdae to go outside where the packages stood. “Nice. Let me stash them away for you.”

The elder nodded, a hand on his son's shoulder before he went back into the clinic. “If you need help, you know where your good old dad is.” But Jongdae quickly sent him back inside, happy to have something to do that would occupy him.

~

I must have been out of my mind.

Jongdae wondered if he had actually hoped to be able to forget about last night, or if he had wanted to reminisce in old memories when he'd told his dad he would take care of the delivered supplies. The more he got used to his task, the wider his thoughts trailed off into the distance, and whenever he set a foot into the storage room, all he could think about were the many times the two of you used to hide in there when you played hide-and-seek with the others.

He was sure that tending to the customers as they waited inside would have been much more effective than stashing away pills and cat food.

Do you love me?

“Morning! Nice weather, isn't it?” He greeted you, making his voice sound extra cheerful. His father snickered from inside the clinic. Oh, shit.

But his face fell for a moment when he saw you simply standing there, watching him with your eyebrows up, slightly chewing on your bottom lip. Another oh, shit moment, taking into count how pretty you looked with your hair down and your white skirt swaying in the gentle breeze.

Jongdae did his best to regain his confidence by clearing his throat.

“What? Cat's got your tongue?” He laughed, mentally shitting himself when he didn't see your face lighting up.

“Oh, good... morning”, you muttered, starting to shift under his intense gaze because it made you feel awkward, “I just didn't know we were... close enough to greet each other in public.”

Ouch.

“Of- of course we are, we're classmates. We should always greet each other, in and out of school!”

You mustered him up and down, making him feel like he shrunk down to bite-size under your earnest expression. “...I see. Well, are we done here? Since we greeted each other?” He released a sigh that fit his deflated expression and merely nodded, seeing you smile at him with a slight bow and starting to walk on, when-

“Please- wait, there's actually something I gotta ask-” Jongdae was relieved when you turned around on your heels and blinked at him, the edges of your mouth rising once more. He felt his stomach twist as the heat crept up his cheeks, unstoppable and cruel.

Do you love me?

It's either that or the sun's finally getting the best of me.

~

“You should have told me about the project for chemistry earlier! I could have grabbed my books and made my way here right away.” You exclaimed as Jongdae's father handed you a glass of juice, ice cubes clinking gently when you took a sip. “Chemistry is important to you, isn't it? Only if you still want to become a scientist in the future, that is.”

Jongdae nearly choked on a cube he was chewing on when he realized you had actually memorized a fact that was related to him, but his hopes where crushed right away when you mentioned you had skipped through your last year book because you had gotten curious about your friends' wishes for the future and had read about him there as well.

“I...”

He scratched his neck, obviously thinking of a smart remark he could surprise you with, when the voice of his dad came to his rescue.

“...So, Y/N, how is Nemo doing these days?” Mr. Kim directed his curious eyes at you while filling his own glass. “I haven't seen him strolling around our house for a while now.”

“I actually thought of paying you a visit with him today- he hasn't been eating at all today, but my  mom said he's never been that much of an eater, so it might be the weather?”

Jongdae furrowed his eyebrows, clearly remembering you telling Yeri about Nemo gobbling down a whole bowl of cat food within a minute. He also remembered you asking your mom for your allowance in advance because you had to buy him more food, and when she said no, you had begged Jongdae to gift you with cat food for your birthday four years ago.

“Well, Nemo's about 15 years old, after all. It could be the weather, or it could be that he's just becoming more lazy as he becomes older, but maybe you should bring him here regardless of that- you were supposed to come here for his yearly check-up in June, anyway.”

You nodded at that, visibly happy to have such a great vet to take care of Nemo, your furry best friend. “I'll try to pay you a visit with him on Monday, then.”

Jongdae, who had been getting more or less lost in his memories, his gaze fixated on your beaming face, shrinked a little when you suddenly directed your attention at him again.

“So, do you want to start with the chemistry project right away? I could go home and get my things for-”

Yes. Yes- Say yes for god's sake! An unknwon voice kept screaming in his head, screaming at him to give in to what seemed like his chance to spend some time alone with you, but the feeling of his heart thumping so fast that it seemed to be about to burst caused him to do otherwise.

“I, eh- Sorry, but I already have plans for today.” Jongdae was sure of his mind playing tricks on him, because, for a mere second, he thought he'd seen your face fall- but he was sure he'd been wrong when you smiled at him and his dad as you got up- obviously, you were getting ready to leave.

“In that case, I'll be on my way to the grocery store. It was nice to chat with the two of you- Mr. Kim, Jongdae.” You waved at them before grabbing your bag and exiting the back of their clinic.

Jongdae's gaze followed your swaying hair when he was suddenly nudged by his father, making him groan. “Dad-”

“I already told you when you were ten and I know it made you cry, but I'll disown you if you don't make her my in-law, Jongdae.”

Blushing, Jongdae got up, his dad handing him some money before he practically ran out to follow you.

~

“Didn't you say you were a bit short on time because you had plans today?” You eyed him curiously, raising your eyebrows a bit at the large smile that had been plastered on his face ever since he'd managed to take you to this ice cream parlor a few minutes away from the grocery store.

“Yeah, I mean, I don't think we'd have had enough time to finish the project today because of that.”

“Who are you meeting up with, by the way?” Jongdae took his time before answering, his mind fully captivated by the redness that was crawling up your neck and, finally, cheeks, or the sight of you fumbling with the hem of your dress to avoid eye contact.

“I'm... going to meet the guys- Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and a few others you might not really know.”

“Oh. I see... like a guys' night out?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Not really- Y-you could even tag along if you want. There will be other girls you could chat or play with.”

Something in your chest stirred, causing you to look anything but pleased.

He had known. He'd noticed how perfect -well, regarding your actual relationship- everything had been going today. He'd been seeing you in town on your own a few times, greeting you and sometimes even chatting with you, but sooner or later, there'd always been something -someone- to distract you and pull you away from him. Today had been the day, and he wouldn’t have been Kim Jongdae if he hadn’t known how to ruin it for himself.

“What's up?” The burning sensation of his palm on your shoulder made you stop mid-action, your eyes darting upwards to meet his. Jongdae felt somewhat intimidated by the expression you were now gazing at him with, but it didn't make him feel uncomfortable at all. It was the first time in two years, he realized. The first time ever since his birthday two years ago, ever since you’d caused him to think you were feeling the way he did

Why did I even answer you? I should have apologized, nothing more. Stop getting so sentimental, Jongdae.

“I don't know if I should be honest with you, Kim Jongdae.” Your eyes darted back to the floor, head shaking merely as if to support your thoughts, negativities he wasn't supposed to hear. “I don't know if I should really trust you that far-” His breath got stuck somewhere between his nose and his lungs when you suddenly grabbed one of his hands with yours, and gosh, were they small. And soft. Jongdae would have bet on them even smelling good-

“But despite everything my friends keep telling me, despite everything that's written about you in my diary, I feel like I want to trust you.”

“You...” He barely withstood the urge to hold on to your hand, but he managed to gently push it away in the end. “I don't think you should be trusting someone like me, Y/N.”

“My diary says so, too- but somehow, meeting you like this made me feel otherwise.”

The boy scowled. He’d thought he’d heard wrong before, but- “Your... diary?”

You blushed, but went on either way. “Yes, well, it's rather something like a notebook I use to keep up with the most important details of my daily life. To remember the things I... I forget about.” It was weird for you to talk about something so... private, but it also felt good to have someone listen and you had to admit that, different from what your diary had said, Jongdae seemed to be a nice person- and a great listener. “I wonder what my friends would do if they saw me opening up to you that much.” You laughed a little, but stopped when you saw Jongdae's face darken.

“I'm sure they already would have pulled you away from me, just like they always do.” It was your time to furrow your brows. “They seem to think I'm a bad influence for someone like you- and they may be right, I don't know.”

“What makes you think that?” You wondered what he -someone like Jongdae- could have done to be pushed away by your small group of friends, who were both also kind and caring enough to take someone like you in. Instead of eagerly reaching for his hand, you grabbed the string of your bag for something like... an anchor in the midth of the mess that was your head. “Did something happen between our friends? You and one of the girls-”, you paused, taking a deep breath to calm your own nerves-” or even us?”

Jongdae felt your eagerness giving him goosebumps. Despite whatever he had thought before, he was sure that something deep, deep inside of you wanted to get close to him again- and seeing how you were seemingly pulled to him made him feel indescribably soft. Like the matching poles of two magnets someone kept pulling apart. He could practically feel his heart swell with every word of honesty you spoke- because lying, he guessed, was something you were not capable of. “I... Honestly, I don't know.”

He didn't want to risk hurting you by accidentally making you try to remember anything about yourself too much, but he had to admit he was just as curious as you. He still remembered the last day the two of you hung out freely, the last day he had made you laugh and carried your backpack. He had thought about it over and over again, but had never managed to find a reason for you to leave his side when he had thought that you'd -eventually, if only the heavens had been on his side-

felt just like him. “We stopped being close two years ago. Believe it or not, but I have no idea why.”

He saw your face fall, shoulders hanging, and it took him all of his self-discipline not to step up to you and engulf you in a hug. He could have easily done so, maybe you even wanted him to- and yet, he would have felt as if he was taking advantage of your situation. Jongdae was no coward (just sometimes, he secretly was), but taking your situation into count, he still wanted to leave the first steps of whatever the two of you were heading up to to you. He had been used to matching up to your pace, and he had promised himself he would never throw himself right at you (unless you wanted him to, and heck, how often did he catch himself thinking back to the old times, where you'd tug on his shirt for a hug)- he wanted to give you the space and time you needed to get used to him again, no matter how long it'd take.

So instead of getting closer, he shifted around awkwardly, his shoes causing the earth beneath them to scrunch a little. He nodded over to the parlor you’d been sitting next to for the time being. “So... you wanna go get some ice cream?”

But all you could do was shake your head. “I'm not sure if I'm still in the mood for ice cream...”

Jongdae bit his lip, this time unable to hold his hand back as it reached out to you on its own, a gentle pat on your back causing you to smile. “We could share? Eating something delicious may brighten your mood. What's your favourite flavour?”

You smiled at him, and his heart skipped a beat.

How could you not feel happier again, when Jongdae was trying so hard to cheer you up?

~

“You want to know about... what?”

You patiently waited while Yerim and Sooyoung looked at each other as if you'd just told them you'd move away tomorrow and never come back.

“I don't think there's anything worth knowing, sweetheart.” But Yerim's furrowed brows told you otherwise.

“I would like to know what happened between me and Jongdae”, you started, casually sipping on your shaken sweet tea. “ Something must have happened. I feel like we'd be much closer if it didn't- and he said he's clueless himself.”

You saw your friends scoffing in unision.  “He's what?!” Sooyoung slammed her hands on the table, half of the customers in the small café you'd met up in looking at her in shock. “He's a fucking idiot, Y/N, a fucking idiot! He's just as evil as his friends are!-”

“When did you even talk to him?”, Yerim asked as she yanked Sooyoung's butt back into her seat.

“Today. We met in front of his house and spontaneously went for ice cream.” You tried your hardest not to smile, but the glow on your face was impossible to hide. “I thought that if anyone would know, it should either be you or his friends.”

“Sweetie...” Yerim took your hands and gently pressed them while Sooyoung huffed and threw her head back, cheeks puffed in anger and frustration. “You know, it's not like we don't know about your feelings for Jongdae, but...”

“Yeri, stop. I don't want her to get close to these three pieces of garbage ever again. I gave Chanyeol another chance, and you saw what he made of it-”

“Why is this about you again, Sooyoung? Does each and every conversation have to revolve around you and that wanna-be-punk?”

“He's not- I mean, of course not”, the taller girl exclaimed, irritation washing over her face and revealing her inner state. “You know that all I want is to protect our friend from getting her heart broken over and over again- Park, Byun, Kim, they’re all the same kind of idiots. Insensitive, unbelievably mean and-”

“Girls, girls, girls- I fucking love him! ”, you threw in, both of your friends now looking at you, eyes wide and mouths agape. “This is my life, after all. I am a part of this group. I feel like I have every right to know about whatever happened between all of us.”

“It’s all in the past, sweetie, we should all calm down and think about what’s ahead of us, I guess”, Yeri patted your hand while Sooyoung raised her hand to order another round of tea and coffee for the three of you, but even the sugar-coated cookies she demanded as well could distract you.

“Sooyoung. Yeri. Please. You know me- my past, my future, everything’s unknown to me. The two of you are my number one source for everything that’s happened to me in the past years. What do you think I should do if even the two of you stop backing me up? What should I do with my future if I don’t even know who I am because my past is nothing but blurry?” Ugh, how you hated it to play that card- but it seemed to work just fine. 

“Sooyoung, I read about your break-up. Heck, I don’t even know how to comfort you because I barely even know what it’s like to love someone, to be loved, or to be broken up with and miss someone- I want that, too, no matter the outcome.” You leaned over to them, a pleading look on your face. You felt like crying, andeventually, it showed- because even if you had just started to act like a kicked puppy to convince them, it was true. You were scared of your future- but what scared you the most was spending your present without living. You still wanted to go out and have fun, live and love like everyone else. You were convinced that even for someone like you, romance was a possibility as long as your partner was someone who cared. Someone who tried- someone like him, you added in your head.

Just this once, please.

You saw the two of them exchanging glances, with Yeri biting her lip and Sooyoung blinking a tad bit too fast, trying to hide her watery eyes. “Fine, but... please don't swear again. Sooyoung's rubbing off on you way too much.”

“Stop babying me, Yeri. You're younger than me!” 

“Who cares about two months-” Sooyoung interrupting her by smacking the blonde's head made you crack up.

“What did you just say? I didn't hear you, Kim Yerim, I guess your bad hearing's rubbing off on me!”

~

Jongdae's mind was a freaking mess. With the memories of the past years and today all mixed together, the moments of tension that had practically drained him, he didn't even feel like attending Baekhyun's small party anymore- he would've rather spent time alone to think, to remember.

But he'd promised after all, and he had also said yes to band practice being set up for today due to the detention he'd gotten because Chanyeol'd behaved like a fucking caveman in class. He smiled, eyes crinkling in delight. He was reall walking through heaven and hell with that boy, but he was living for it- they were friends, after all.

“Yo, guys! It's me!”, he exclaimed as he opened the door to the small wooden hut in the Byuns' backyard, “What's going on?”

The guys immediately handed him a can of beer -Baekhyun's dad was a seemingly sad example of a single father, allowing the boys to drink at home to “man up” (when in reality, he rather had them drink at home than somewhere else, but how uncool did that sound)- and immediately discussed which song to play as an opening for tonights party and some new stuff Chanyeol had come up with, when Baekhyun put an arm around Jongdae's shoulders and slomped down next to him on the old, red leather sofa that had been a part of the Byuns' livingroom until three years ago, when Baekhyun had somehow managed to burn a butt-sized hole into one of the seats.

“I guess something good happened today? You're pretty much thrilled up today!” Jongdae sent a silent toast to his two friends and emptied his can before speaking.

“Well, you could say so. Nice weather-”

“-nice skirt, you mean.” Chanyeol took a seat in a blue armchair opposite to them. Baekhyun eyed them curiously, while Jongdae tried to hide in the collar of his shirt, immediately getting the hint.

“Your date was wearing a nice skirt today- a bit too long for my taste, but you've always been the conservative one here- Ey!”, the giant exclaimed when Jongdae's beer can collided with his head.

“Date? You were on a date?! Why didn't you tell us you had a girl wrapped around your little finger? Who is it? Spill the tea already!!” Baekhyun nudged Jongdae's side, obviously proud of his buddy.

Jongdae opened his mouth to speak, but before he could make sure that whatever answer he was going to give seemed solid, Chanyeol rolled his eyes and, holding his head, added “Naw, just kidding. I saw him in town with Brainy. They were eating ice cream. Should've seen them, Dae was so much into acting all lovey-dovey and sharing with her, I thought he was going to feed her at any moment- AH!” He tried to hold back his laughter, but failed miserably and ended up stubbing his toe at the coffee table.

“Serves you right!”, Jongdae happily yelled, before turning around to get some nice comment out of Baekhyun. “Doesn't it- hey, what's up? Someone stole your tongue?” He furrowed his eyebrows, repeating his friend's past action and nudging his shoulder playfully- but all he got was Baekhyun shoving him away and off the sofa. “Ey, what the fuck was that for?!”

“So, you're seeing her now?”, Baekhyun growled, head hanging low enough for his bangs to hide his face. “You're seeing each other? You're finally dating that sad excuse of a bitch-  Fine, congratulations.” He made an attempt to get up and walk over to his keyboard, but Jongdae was faster- he jumped up from his position on the floor and pushed Baekhyun back to the couch, making him trip over his own feet and causing him to fall backwards with his back hitting the leather first. “Jongdae, what the fuck?!”

“What's your fucking problem?”, Jongdae yelled, throwing his hands up in the air to express his irritation, but also ready for a possible fight. “I told-”

“-I think I should be the one asking you two just that”, Chanyeol threw in, getting between the two smaller guys to prevent any more damage. “Jongdae, lower your fucking butt and then talk it out!”, he shouted, causing the other two to shut up for a moment and get back to their senses, realizing he had usually been the one they had to calm down and aid him with his anger management.

“I definitely didn't intend to make the two of you scratch each others' eyes out when I made that stupid joke.”

Jongdae huffed once, twice, and eventually a third time before laying his eyes upon Baekhyun again. “So? I'm waiting for your answer, dumbass.”

“What's there to wait for? I already wished you well, asshole.” Baekhyun wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, facial expression still falling a mile a minute. “I hope you and that annoying little piece of crap will live well and experience your happy ever after.”

“What reason do you have to treat her like that? I remember you telling us you liked her, Baek!  Whenever you talk about her now, it's like you've become a whole different person! Did some kind of ghost get a hold of you and tell you to treat her like shit from one day to another? Or-”

“That's the fucking problem, you dumbass!” Chanyeol grabbed his chest in surprise, as Jongdae stayed unfaced by their friend getting up and slamming his hands flat on the table, their bottles jumping in unision.

“To be honest”, Baekhyun's voiced seemed forced and compressed, as if he tried his best to withstand the urge to talk, “I... like Y/N.”

Silence.

It was a weird, maybe even comical moment, with the rapid exchange of eye contact between Chanyeol and Jongdae, the latter feeling the hair in his neck standing up one after another, while Baekhyun shifted in his seat as if his blonde friend was a bomb that was about to explode. Unexpectedly, Chanyeol was the first one to regain his ability to speak.

“You what?”

“It's true. I've been in love with her for about... four years now”, Baekhyun started, elbows now resting on his knees, his face hidden in his hands to hide the embarrassment that started to show on his face.

“I... never knew”, Chanyeol mumbled, something like awe showing on his face, but he was too scared to drag things into a humorous direction just now. He'd never seen his friends in such a dead-serious moment, though he somewhat felt like this was all part of either a hidden camera prank, or some kind of cheesy romance novel.

“Well, me neither”, Jongdae growled, too overwhelmed by his own feelings of Baekhyun suddenly stepping up as a potential rival in a fight for your heart (though it was very unlikely that Yerim or Sooyoung would let you get close to any of them after what happened).

When Baekhyun realized his friends had nothing else to add, he continued, keeping his face low as he shifted awkwardly on the old red sofa beneath his butt. “I thought that, if I kept humiliating her, I would at some point start to believe in my own words, that I would like her less, maybe even dislike her someday- be able to let go and move on- but it's not that easy.” His gaze shifted to Jongdae, who was still furious, his whole body shaking from anger and irritation. “Whenever I hurt her, I saw your eyes, the sadness it pushed you into- and I knew that, while my head told me to stop this, my heart had made the right choice. She may be weird, but if someone like you falls for her, Y/N must be one hell of a girl- a rare catch, like a diamond.”

With his gaze still resting upon Jongdae, he missed the way Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows and mouthed something along the line what the fuck?, falling into a trance as he slowly started to realize the direction this was taking.

“After a while, I noticed I like it when she cries or shies away from me- it's cute, but-”

“-Wow, you're one fucking asshole.”

Baekhyun sighed and nodded, eyes carrying a small glint of sadness. “True, Dae, I was going to say exactly that. I'm an asshole for making her feel so down, and I possibly hate myself the most for it- but I'm also your friend, and so I decided to start over. I promise I'll behave-”

Chanyeol regretted only waking up from his trance the second he heard the crack caused by Jongdae's fist hitting Baekhyun's nose with full force.

Back to the LiaL Masterpost || Chapter 3

tagging: @noona-clock​ @trishmarieco @cramelot @jjong-dae77 @lovebuginlove

#exo #exo story #exo scenario #exo au #au #alternate universe #chen x reader #exo x reader #female #female reader #red velvet #chen #jongdae #kim jongdae #♥ #romance #chenchen #chensaur #Y/N #yeri #sooyoung #joy #rv #chanyeol #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #park chanyeol #story #angst #friendship

[berry-cat7]

Treasure

@kurokolovesakashi

For AkaKuro Month! The prompt is Fairy tale AU, so I went with trapped in a tower with a dragon, but with my own twist.

Can be read on AO3 or Fanfiction.

Kuroko no Basuke

G Rating

Brief mention of nudity

2,032 Words

Characters: Akashi Seijurou, Kuroko Tetsuya, Momoi Satsuki (Ft. Aomine)

Summary: A new knight approaches Kuroko's tower. It goes better than expected.

"Oh dear." Kuroko remarks rather flatly.  

His reaction is more appropriate for noting an impending rain, rather than the sight of another knight preparing to storm his tower. However, he feels mild annoyance towards both phenomena, so perhaps it is quite fitting. If they were a messenger, they wouldn't have been so heavily armored, and nobody lugs around a broadsword for fun.

This knight can't be too unreasonable if they decided to make their approach from the forest though. While it is filled with many dangerous creatures and the terrain quite treacherous in general, it does provide excellent cover from the dragon's fiery gaze. The last fool who thought to take the mountain path directly to the western face of his tower saw their death approaching long before they had a chance to even catch a glimpse of the 'damsel' himself. Admittedly his keeper was feeling rather agitated that day, since that was the fourth challenger that week; usually the dragon is charitable enough to at least let them approach his fence, and give him a chance to send them away with their lives.  

Not that they ever listen.

Between their greed towards the ridiculous amounts of riches the dragon has amassed in this castle, their desire to slay a mighty beast, and the power they've attached to his name; many chose to ignore him and press on.  This usually results in the forest fauna coming out for a midnight snack on the remains if the dragon is out of sight. Kuroko doesn't like it when the dragon chars his lawn to burn the bodies, and the dragon refuses to actually eat them, so what isn't scavenged, is scattered along his grounds in warning.  

This knight is definitely promising though.

Rather than charging in blindly while the dragon is still out of sight, they slow their steed to a trot and carefully examine the area. Kuroko knows that his companion has taken to the skies, silently observing the situation. The knight is too far for Kuroko to read the insignia painted onto their shield, but the powder blue of their cloak, and the style of the horse's reigns match those of Teiko, his kingdom of origin. Despite their cautious pace, the knight approaches with absolute confidence. The vibrant red plume decorating their helmet wavers in the wind, and their cape billows artistically as they draw nearer. Honestly, Kuroko is rather impressed. Usually people don't have that kind of flair for dramatics anymore.

At this distance, the golden dragon insignia of Teiko is clear and just as they reach they the barrier around his tower, they pull their horse to a halt. The knight is silent for a moment, before they reach up to remove their helmet. Messy pink hair drawn up into a loose bun, and a feminine face. It seems to be another woman this time.

The knight's voice rings loud and true through the clearing. "Fair prince, I am Sir Momo! Momoi Satsuki! And I have heard tales of your beauty and virtue! They say you are held captive by a fearsome beast and I have arrive to rescue you, and offer my hand in marriage! Where is your captor?"

It's a pain to strain his voice, but Kuroko addresses the challenger from his window. "Fair knight, I thank you for coming all this way, but I fear your quest has been for naught! I am in no peril! And I am no prince! Nor am I looking to marry!"

Her eyes widen in surprise.

"...Then who are you? There are many tales of your royal status!"

"I was but a humble farmhand! I befriended the local dragon, and moved into this tower! People have come and gone, spinning ridiculous fables of increasing fantasy!" That's quite an over-simplification of the situation, but it's unwise to shout such a long and personal story out of a window to a potentially dangerous stranger.

Overall, he's not quite sure how things escalated to this point himself. At first a few travelers stumbled across his little abode and the dragon was content to watch from afar. But once he had almost been killed by a roving band of looters, he supposes some rumours had begun to spread once the survivors regaled their harrowing tales. The average wanderers stopped appearing, and the warriors and knights started flocking in for various reasons.

Kuroko is far from captive when he travels back into town every other week for supplies. Not that many can recognize him.  

"I apologize that you have come all this way! I can only offer my regrets." The last time he had bribed away an intruder, the dragon had sulked for days, curling around the tower's treasures possessively until Kuroko polished quite a few in repentance.

The knight shifts on her saddle as she thinks over this new development. "...Are you sure you require no aid? Are you truly unthreatened by the dragon?"

"Not unless you offer repair services." All of the rain has been rather troublesome. His wood fence is starting to rot from all of the moisture.

"Unfortunately, my main craft is the blade. My apologies for the disturbance then. Though I do hope you won't mind if I return for a visit? Someone as lovely as you should at least have human company every now and then." Ironically, he gets plenty of human company, it's just that they're usually hostile while the dragon is a reprieve.

She's been polite, outwardly nonthreatening and respectful, patient. Kuroko is about to grant tentative permission when a distant roar echoes in warning. It seems the dragon has grown tired of their guest. Thankfully she's aware enough to understand this unsubtle warning herself. "It seems I've overstayed my welcome. I bid you farewell, and may our paths cross again." She says with a sweet smile and a wave. Quite the juxtaposition from the worn armor broadening her frame and the gleaming blade strapped to her back.

Although she intended to take her leave, it seems her horse has other ideas. It continues to graze on the lush grass of his property, regardless of its rider pulling at its reigns. "Oh come on! Dai-chan, you can eat later!" The horse takes its time chewing through one more mouthful before it finally heeds its master's cries. And once the knight disappears into the forest from whence she came, the dragon is quick to land.

Kuroko rolls his eyes to himself once he is safely out of sight, and heads to his front door in order to greet the dragon in person, taking the spare cloak with him. He really is a sight to behold, gleaming wine-coloured scales and magnificent wings. Large eyes focus on him, one cranberry red and the other daffodil gold, both scanning for a hair out of place even though the knight hadn't even unsheathed her weapon. It's ridiculous and over-protective, but he can't complain when it's done for his sake. The dragon sort of sighs out a puff of smoke and a flurry of embers, a sign that he is satisfied with what he sees and Kuroko is permitted to move.

"See? I'm fine. But thank you Seijurou."

The dragon's lipless mouth is unmoving, but a velvety smooth voice can still be heard. "I don't understand why you won't just leave with me, and be done with these vermin."  

Kuroko puts a hand on the dragon's warm snout, each nostril almost half of his height and every exhale a visible heatwave. "As hot as you can keep the cave and as lavishly as you furnish it, I'd rather not actually live in a cave. Kagami-kun already claims that I'm so isolated I may as well live under a rock, the last thing he needs is validation."

The dragon releases a burst of hot air at the mention of one of his few friends. He's close enough that the twin jets of scalding steam billow out past him without harm, but it's still uncomfortably hot at this distance. He smacks the dragon with a frown in reprimand, but the gesture is more symbolic since he doubts it was really felt through such thick skin.  

"I can be human too." Kuroko is sure it's supposed to sound ominous or maybe even vaguely threatening, but he's learned to associate that tone with a petulant child. He absently resumes running his hand against the dragon's face. The larger, shield-sized scales covering the rest of his body are mostly cold and sharp, but his face is covered with smooth snake-like soft-scaled skin.  

He has to tread carefully, because the last thing he wants to do is offend. Inter-species relationships – romantic or otherwise – are always complicated. "...Yes, I know, but even I would like to see other faces every now and then. I'm not a jewel Seijurou, I need more than just safety."

He can feel scales heating beneath his palm, just shy of painful as the dragon shifts. He closes his eyes against the bright light but he can already feel a feverishly warm cheek resting in his hand. Two very human hands grab onto him. One rests overtop of his, while the other carefully grips his fragile wrist. It wouldn't take much to turn his joints into mush, break his legs and render him immobile – completely helpless and dependent. But the dragon is careful, his touch always almost annoyingly feather-light with his unspoken fear.  

He opens his eyes to meet red and gold.

There is a possessive look in Seijurou's eyes as he speaks, low and reverently. "I know human's require a lot of care to remain in optimal condition, but I can't help but place your physical well-being before your happiness. It's fine if you hate me. As long as you are alive and within my sights, I don't care what you do if it's not detrimental to your health. Your life is short as it is. You are my most precious treasure." The dragon places a tender kiss over the pulse point of Kuroko's inner wrist, and the human flushes a bright red as he recalls Seijurou's bare state. Seijurou himself always stands proud, completely unbothered by his nudity because he only wears what Kuroko forces onto him.

Without context, that whole speech would be rather concerning, no doubt that knight would come sweeping back to rescue him had she heard some of the other things he's said. But Kuroko knows that the dragon would never treat him like that. An object to be hoarded in the dark. He's merely voicing his opinion, the disgruntled grumbling of the guard of a particularly troublesome treasure. Kuroko pulls Seijurou into an embrace, surrounding himself with the dragon's heat. He rests his chin over the other's shoulder. "I know. You're my most important person too."  

In all of his years of life as a simple farmhand, Kuroko Tetsuya had never seen much value in his life. He considered it a good life, but like any peasant, he thought he wasn't worth more than the mud he toiled in. It was mere chance that he had stumbled across this abandoned structure filled with wealth, and perhaps some would call it misfortune that it turned out to belong to a dragon; but his restraint had been his saving grace, and once the dragon had located him further down the path the rest had become history.

It's another irony, one he thinks about every day, that a dragon – creatures notorious for their material greed – believes that his life is worth more than his weight in gold.

It's easy to slip out of Seijurou's hold, all hard muscles and soft grip. It's not as bad as it used to be, but he's still embarrassed that he was in the arms of a naked man out in the open. He carefully throws the cloak he brought over Seijurou's shoulders, one of the only articles of clothing he'll wear without a word of complain, and leads the dragon by the hand into his castle.

The lifeblood rushing through his veins, every breath he draws, every day for the rest of his days – all of it, Kuroko is more than happy to give him to cherish.

#AkaKuro #Kuroko Tetsuya #Akashi Seijurou #KnB #kuroko no basuke #Aomine being a horse is literally my favourite part #idk why it got so serious at the end this was supposed to be funny #sorry if it's a mess I just wanted to post on time for once #I might fill more prompt days #fic: Treasure

[enterprisetrampstamp]

11. McSpirk

in which, like, nothing really happens, including the cuddling that’s supposed to be the prompt

When the door chimes, Len calls for Jim to enter without even looking up from his laundry. He’s not in civvies often enough to have to take care of it regularly- he doesn’t care to admit it, but this is the first time he’s even touched anything other than his underwear drawer in days- so he’s opted to do the folding himself. The action’s so mundane as to’ve become cathartic, this far out along the edges of Federation space.

He sighs, smoothing out an ancient t-shirt from college. Len’s not sure why he even still has the thing; it was too big when he bought it, way back when, and he’s slimmed up considerably since then. It’s worn out, too, so old you can barely even read “Ole Miss” any more. Maybe that’s the attraction in and of itself, he admits–the cotton is soft under his fingertips in a way that only comes with time.

Footsteps come to a stop at the threshold of his bedroom, and he blindly tosses a few pairs of pants over his shoulder. “Make yourself useful, while you’re here; it’s been a long day.”

“The length of the day on a starship is standardized, Doctor; no day is longer or shorter than another,” Spock says lightly (for a Vulcan), and Len nearly jumps a foot in surprise.

“Sweet Jesus!” He lays one hand over his pounding heart, squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a brief moment. “You scared the devil out of me. I thought…” Len trails off as Spock sets both pairs of jeans on the bed next to him, folded as neatly as Len’s own mama would have done.

The only thing he can think to say is, “I guess somethin’ Lady Amanda taught you managed to slip through after all.”

Spock fairly radiates amusement when Len looks up at him, for all that his body language doesn’t change a bit. “You did order me to ‘make myself useful’,” he says, reaching for the laundry basket, and the door chimes again.

“That you, Jim?” Len hollers. He breaks eye contact with Spock, his cheeks heating up slightly, and brushes past him.

“Who else, Bones?”

Len glances over his shoulder at Spock as he moves into the main room, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. “Oh, you’d be surprised,” he chuckles, thumbing the button to open the door. “Come on in, Jimmy.”

“Been a long day,” Jim announces even as he crosses the threshold, making Len smile; there are two glasses slung between his fingers and a bottle of wine in his other hand. “Just what the doctor ordered?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“Sure thing.” Len sets his hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Got another glass?” he asks slyly.

Jim tilts his head, setting the wine aside in favor of sliding his arm around Len’s waist. “Another…?”

“Spock’s in the bedroom,” Len says cheerfully, and Jim’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s folding my laundry,” he adds.

Jim licks his lips, opens his mouth, and promptly closes it again. Len waits patiently, a gentle smile on his lips; a moment later Jim admits, “I’m confused.”

“Thought he was you, so I threw some pants at him and told him to make ‘imself useful.” Len palms Jim’s ass, getting a surprised “oomph” and a rakish grin for his efforts. “He’s much better at foldin’ ‘n you are,” he continues, voice teasing. “Everything’s nice ‘n’ crisp, and he didn’t even try and pull off my shirt because he ‘thought I wanted everything folded, oh, sorry, Bones’.”

Jim’s eyes twinkle as he carelessly tosses the wine glasses towards the couch- they must be polycarbonate, the way they clink together without breaking- but Len smacks him in the chest before he can open his mouth.

“If you try it tonight, I’m takin’ the wine and Spock, and I’m leavin’ you with the laundry,” he says firmly, rolling his eyes–though he can’t quite bite back his fond smile; Jim just grins and leans in to steal a quick kiss.

He’s still close enough for his breath to brush over Len’s lips when he murmurs thoughtfully, “So Spock’s in your bedroom.”

“’N’ he can probably hear every word we’re saying,” Len points out, nipping at Jim’s bottom lip before extricating himself completely. “Not to mention that I wasn’t raised to leave the chores up to my guests,” he chuckles, heading towards the other room, “no matter how entertaining the sight.”

Jim hooks two fingers in Len’s belt loop and crowdsclose as he follows him. When they turn the corner, Jim calls out, “Evening, Mr. Spock,” with laughter thick in his voice.

“Captain.” Spock nods vaguely in their direction. His attention is caught, however, by the Starfleet Academy t-shirt he holds out in front of himself, one eyebrow raised. “I was under the impression you had not attended the Academy, Doctor.”

Len clears his throat as Jim buries a laugh in the back of his neck. ��That’s, ah, a correct impression, Spock,” he says, trailing awkwardly to a stop. Jim is a line of warmth and gentle strength against his back, and it does nothing to help keep his face from burning. “You’ll notice it’s also a tad large for me.”

“As are many of your non-uniform shirts,” Spock points out. “As a data point, the size indicates little–”

“It’s mine, Spock,” Jim says, with gentle amusement, and Spock’s back straightens even further than normal as he looks over at them.

“Indeed,” he comments blandly, his gaze flicking across the both of their faces. His movements are swift and efficient as he begins folding the shirt, his eyes swiftly averted once more.

“Spock,” Len says, slowly. If he were anyone else, Len would think that not-expression on his face was betrayal. “Did you not realize…?”

“There are nuances of human culture which I still do not easily recognize.” Spock sets the shirt on the stack, his fingers lingering on the soft fabric. “If your attempts to inform me of the changed nature of your relationship were couched in allusion and indirect language, I have missed them.”

His body language is difficult to parse at the best of times; in this low lighting, with him partly turned away from them, Len can’t even begin to guess what he’s thinking. He hopes Jim- whose fingers are drumming a thoughtful beat against Len’s hip- has a better inkling of what’s going on underneath that bowlcut.

They’re close enough together that he knows, from Jim’s intake of breath, that he’s about to speak the moment before he does; Len relaxes, certain that Jim will- as ever- know exactly the right thing to say.

“I suppose, then, that our attempts to imply we were also interested in changing the nature of our relationship with you must have likewise flown over your head.”

Or not.

“Jim,” Len hisses, shoving him off. “A little tact–”

“Has obviously gotten us nowhere,” Jim whispers, his grin crooked. “We have to adapt to changing circumstances, Bones.” His step is light as he curves around the room, jerking his chin to motion Len towards Spock’s other side. Len ignores him.

They’re both under intense scrutiny; Spock’s dark eyes cut from one to the other almost suspiciously as Jim–well, for lack of a better word, Jim stalks forward. He jerks his chin again, hissing, “Are you going to pull your weight here or not?” and Len throws his hands in the air.

“Spock, get away while you still can,” he complains. “Datin’ him isn’t worth it.”

Jim turns his attention from Spock to Len, rearing back incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Len lifts an eyebrow, his hands finding his hips once more as he rocks back on his heels. “‘Pull my weight’?” he demands. “Whose bedroom is he in again, Jim boy?”

“He’s here to fold your laundry!”

“And he’s doin’ a better job of it than you ever have!”

Jim spins on his heel, gesturing to Len with one hand as he addresses Spock. “And he says dating me is a trial. Mr. Spock, have you ever seen anyone quite so contrary, for the sheer sake of being contrary?”

“Every time he looks in the mirror,” Len scoffs, not even giving Spock a chance to answer, and Jim’s surprised into a laugh that he quite ineffectively turns into a cough.

“For God’s sake, Bones; can you get through a conversation without insulting him?”

Len looks at Spock, raking his gaze from pristinely shined shoes to pointed ears, and bounces on his toes. “Nope,” he states, popping the ‘p’ with distinct relish.

Spock- who’d been looking increasingly overwhelmed since Jim’s announcement- visibly (if subtly) relaxes into the familiar exchange. “I could hardly expect any less from the good doctor,” he informs Jim, clasping his hands behind his back. “In the face of superior logic, he rarely has outlet beyond unfounded accusations and vulgarities.”

“Very true, Mr. Spock,” Jim agrees gravely, likewise clasping his hands behind his back. His eyes, however, sparkle with the utmost mischief.

“‘Superior’ logic,” Len mutters, faux indignant, and sidles up to Spock, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up to meet those dark eyes. (On the Vulcan’s other side, Jim likewise closes the distance between them.) Len takes a breath, forcing some of the tension out of his shoulders; in return, his voice comes out more hesitant, more raw than he’d intended.

“Teasin’ aside, Mr. Spock…” he dares to reach out and brush his fingers over his covered upper arm. “We’da broached the subject more carefully if we’d realized you didn’t already know.”

“There is no need for… apology, Doctor,” Spock promises, after a moment of hesitation. It doesn’t feel as if he’s lying–simply that he’s uncertain of how to respond. Possibly, Len muses, uncertain as to how he even feels about all of this.

Jim sets a hand on Spock’s shoulder and then, after a moment of deliberation, slides it around to cup the back of Spock’s neck. He says firmly, his gaze locked with Spock’s, “We’re your friends; we should have told you about our relationship explicitly some time ago, and that deserves an apology.”

“Captain–”

“Jim,” Len interjects. His lips twitch as Spock startles, ever so slightly–he understands, intimately, the way the rest of the world falls away when Jim Kirk looks at you like that. “In a situation like this, it’s more than appropriate to call him ‘Jim’.”

“Now Bones, on the other hand, will kick you out of his quarters for calling him ‘Leonard’,” Jim teases, his thumb tracing an arc back and forth over the soft skin of Spock’s neck.

Len scoffs, running his knuckles lightly down the curve of Spock’s spine as he leans across him to taunt, “Just you, Jimmy.”

Jim raises his eyebrows, a delighted- if surprised- sort of grin on his face, but Len leans back ruefully before he can respond. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” he says, pointedly folding his arms over his chest to make sure he keeps his hands to himself.

“Right.” Jim licks his lips. “Right.” He reluctantly removes his hand from Spock’s neck, and for a moment he’s quiet, his hand flexing thoughtfully by his side, and then he squares his shoulders–and Len yawns, loudly and involuntarily, burying it behind one hand as he blinks away the tears that spring up in response. When his vision clears, Jim’s deflated once more, a fond, indulgent smile on his lips.

“It’s been a long day,” he says again, and Spock shoots Len an exasperated look. Jim continues, oblivious, as Len rubs a grin away with one hand, “Maybe we should leave the particulars of this conversation for another time.”

“Probably not the worst idea,” Len admits. He can feel the exhaustion pressing down on him, and knows- no matter how nice of a front they put up- that Spock and Jim feel the same.

Spock nods, short and sharp, and folds his hands behind his back once more. “Then I will take my leave. Goodnight, Jim; goodnight… Leonard.”

“Well, well, well,” Len drawls, a grin on his face and rocking back on his heels. “Goodnight to you, too, Mr. Spock.”

Jim hums, a twinkle in his eye as he watches the exchange. “I like it when you get along,” he tells them, sincere and amused and open all at once, in that way only he can manage.

“We always get along,” Len protests. “Sometimes ‘getting along’ just involves a lot of yelling. Right, Spock?” He nudges the Vulcan with one elbow, grinning broadly.

Spock, bless him, comes to the conclusion that changing the subject is the safest route. “Do you require further assistance with your laundry, Doctor?”

Biting back his laughter (Jim, on the other side of Spock, doesn’t even bother), Len shakes his head. “I’ve got it covered, Spock, but thank you for the offer.”

Jim’s giggles trail off while Len smiles up at Spock, and for a long moment the room is still and companionably quiet. Len doesn’t want Spock to go, he muses; and all it would take to keep him here would be one word--”stay”.

But without a proper discussion of what they all expect from each other, he can’t put that kind of pressure on Spock. Len sighs, running a hand through his hair with a tired smile. “Have a lovely night, Spock,” he says softly.

Spock inclines his head in acknowledgement, and just like that he’s gone.

Len groans, fingers curling in the fabric of Jim’s uniform shirt as he drops his forehead to the other man’s shoulder. Jim’s arms circle around him, holding him loosely, as he grumbles goodnaturedly, “Half expected you to up and invite him to bed while he was here.”

Jim hums. “I thought about it, but it wasn’t worth the gamble; seemed more likely you’d kick us both out.”

Well, he’s probably not wrong. Len extricates himself with a snort. “Go on and change while I finish up here,” he orders, turning away and busying his hands with the last few shirts in the basket.

(With a grin, he pretends not to see Jim stealing his Ole Miss shirt from the bottom of the stack.)

#mcspirk #mckirk #leonard mccoy #spock #jim kirk #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original #wristwatch6minslow #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

[michaelandy101-blog]

eight Revolutionary & Inspiring Examples of Augmented Actuality in Advertising and marketing

New Post has been published on https://tiptopreview.com/8-innovative-inspiring-examples-of-augmented-reality-in-marketing/

eight Revolutionary & Inspiring Examples of Augmented Actuality in Advertising and marketing

For now, augmented actuality (AR) remains to be largely a novelty — AR’s newness alone contributes to its potential to surpass print, online, and tv ads by way of shock-factor. As The Drum reports, AR can seize folks’s consideration for over 85 seconds, enhance interplay charges by 20 %, and enhance click-through charges to buy by 33 %.

Proper now, folks will cease and take a look at AR-inspired experiences, whatever the marketing campaign’s general high quality. However as extra corporations incorporate AR into their marketing methods, and as AR expertise turns into extra ubiquitous, you’ll want to provide extra considerate campaigns to impress your viewers. Finally, AR will grow to be mainstream, and its prevalence within the trade will make it more durable to compete.

Tim Prepare dinner, Apple’s CEO, has said that AR will one day be as important in our on a regular basis lives as “eating three meals a day.” So, the query is — how can your marketing technique successfully seize an viewers’s consideration, as soon as AR has grow to be commonplace?

Right here, we’ll take a look at eight corporations that use AR in revolutionary and provoking methods. These examples must be all of the inspiration that you must brainstorm and execute a superb long-term AR marketing technique.

Augmented Actuality Examples

Augmented Actuality for Product Advertising and marketing

1. Residence Depot

Adorning a house isn’t simple — how have you learnt should you’ll really just like the yellow paint that appears stunning online, however may be too brilliant in your rest room? What if that espresso desk doesn’t slot in your front room such as you’d hoped?

In 2015, Residence Depot launched their Project Color app, which makes use of patent expertise to point out customers what a paint coloration will seem like of their dwelling. The AR expertise takes into consideration lighting, objects, and shadows within the room, so you may see how that yellow shade will look in actual life. In the event you don’t belief your personal judgment, you may also share pictures from the app on social media, to get a good friend’s opinion.

In 2017, Residence Depot took it a step additional — now, you may also use their app to take a look at how objects like patio furnishings, taps, and different merchandise look in your house.

Residence Depot isn’t the one dwelling furnishings retailer to make use of AR to create worth for his or her customers — Lowe’s and Ikea have comparable AR expertise constructed into their apps.

2. Timberland

In the event you’re something like me, the thought of attempting on gadgets within the dressing room can typically deter you from procuring in any respect. Greater than as soon as, I’ve mentioned, “I’ll buy it, try it on at home, and return it if I don’t like it,” simply to keep away from the effort of carrying a pile of garments right into a dressing room line.

Within the curiosity of comfort and comfortability, Timberland created a virtual fitting room in Moktow Gallery in 2014. Utilizing Kinect movement sensing expertise, Timberland’s digital becoming room allowed customers to see a picture of their face, and a similarly-sized mannequin physique, in numerous outfits.

In the event you’re going to make use of AR, you’ll wish to brainstorm distinctive methods to assist your clients keep away from an in any other case burdensome course of. Whereas becoming rooms may not be the tip of the world (first-world issues?), Timberland stands out as a useful model by providing clients a enjoyable and helpful different.

three. Sephora

There’s a motive many ladies don’t purchase make-up merchandise online — it’s not possible to know should you’ll just like the lip coloration or basis protection should you don’t attempt it on, in-store.

Sephora understands this wrestle, and created an augmented actuality expertise, Virtual Artist App, with ModiFace to make sure Sephora app customers can see how make-up merchandise will look on their face through their telephone’s digicam. Customers can even discover out which instruments or merchandise they’ll want to use sure merchandise.

Moreover, Modiface’s augmented reality technology can present customers the results of months of skincare on their pores and skin — a visible they gained’t discover in-store.

Bridget Dolan, Sephora’s head of innovation, appreciates the need of a long-term AR technique. “When it comes to augmented and virtual reality, it can only be successful if it’s truly useful,” Bridget told Glossy. “We weren’t interested in just buzzy. A lot of things like technical accuracy and timing had to come together, and there was a time last year when, during testing, we hit a tipping point.”

Sephora’s use of augmented actuality isn’t simply useful for customers — it additionally drives gross sales by interesting to Sephora’s extra tech-savvy customers, and inspiring these customers to grow to be model ambassadors by recording and sharing their augmented actuality experiences online.

four. AMC Theaters

Delivering a message when and the place your viewers needs to obtain it’s a essential part of a profitable marketing technique. That is very true in relation to AR.

AMC Theaters, understanding their viewers is most concerned with upcoming film trailers after they’re on the films, included AR technology into their AMC app. When a consumer sees a film poster in a theatre, they’ll open the AMC app on their telephone, scan the poster, and obtain related info, together with a forged listing and a trailer.

In the event that they’re within the film after scanning, they’ll additionally buy a ticket instantly, inside the app.

In the end, AMC Theatres is offering optimum comfort with their use of AR — whereas a consumer can YouTube a trailer or Google a overview, there’s an added incentive to test the film out and buy a ticket when the consumer can do it multi function place.

5. Taco Bell

There are two large causes you’d go to a Taco Bell in 2012 — to attempt their new Doritos taco shell, or to play with their augmented-reality packaging.

Taco Bell positioned an AR feature on each Locos Tacos box and soda cup for his or her Doritos shell marketing campaign. When a consumer scanned the field with the Taco Bell app, they may see product-related Twitter and Fb content material on their telephones.

By connecting their customers with dwell social media content material, Taco Bell efficiently used AR to domesticate a stronger sense of group. In addition they showcased their model as a serious participant in innovation, notably within the fast-food trade.

6. StubHub

Augmented actuality lets you each visualize and work together with an area — two essential features when selecting how a lot you’re keen to pay for a stadium seat.

For Super Bowl LII, StubHub introduced an AR feature on their cellular app that allowed ticket patrons to see a digital 3D mannequin of the U.S. Financial institution Stadium, in addition to close by parking garages and concession stands. This enabled potential patrons to visualise their full expertise earlier than buying, and minimized the chance of paying for a subpar seat.

StubHub’s reliance on AR solved for a standard buyer drawback — as StubHub CTO Matt Swann points out, “We’re solving for real pain points, not just tech for the sake of tech. For a lot of people, it’s not an event you just show up for, it’s kind of a bucket list item.”

Significantly for out-of-towners, the power to nearly examine totally different seat places provides a degree of consolation for hesitant patrons.

Again in 2016, the corporate additionally launched a “virtual view” choice on their app, letting ticket patrons preview their view from their seats earlier than buying. The outcomes have been large — StubHub noticed app engagement greater than double inside one yr.

AR and Experiential Advertising and marketing

7. Netflix

To market season two of the Netflix unique sequence Stranger Issues, the streaming firm launched a sequence of AR/VR lenses on Snapchat. With the lens proven within the video under, customers may report movies of themselves strolling via one of many homes seen within the present, as monsters referred to as Demigorgons come out of the wall. 

Other than this lens, which is extremely immersive for a cellular app, Netflix has additionally leveraged AR filters to advertise its content material.  The video under highlights only a few that have been featured on apps like Fb and Snapchat. 

eight. Pepsi

In 2014, Pepsi installed AR technology in a London bus shelter, making it seem as if a lion, UFOs, alien craft, and different objects have been headed straight for Londoners.

The manufacturing showcased Pepsi’s playful persona and supplied the viewers with an distinctive expertise. Afterwards, a video of the bus shelter’s AR expertise attracted over six million views on YouTube — making it one in every of YouTube’s most viewed advertising campaigns.

Pepsi’s marketing campaign highlights the effectiveness of AR when an organization really is aware of their viewers. Pepsi didn’t want to make use of AR to promote their merchandise — as a substitute, they trusted their customers to understand the surreal expertise and naturally share the story with associates, creating buzz round their model consequently.

The State of AR in Advertising and marketing

Whereas various manufacturers nonetheless cannot entry AR fairly but, entrepreneurs can nonetheless take a notice from how these manufacturers creatively carried out a brand new expertise into their content material marketing methods. 

In the end, because the media panorama adjustments and expertise will get extra superior, entrepreneurs at enterprise of various sizes might need extra alternatives to implement expertise. And, after they do, they will must suppose creatively and innovatively about how they spend money on it. 

To be taught extra about AR in marketing, take a look at this final information. If you wish to dive deeper into digital actuality, you may take pleasure in this listing of examples.

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#General

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY TWITTER IS POWER OF N THINGS

Having the Social Radar, and this special power of hers was critical in making YC what it is. 0 have in common? Though quite successful, it did not crush Apple. Not at all. If you took ten people at random out of the way right now.1 A company that could pay all its employees so straightforwardly would be enormously successful. What kind of programming language will they use to write the first version of Arc was an extreme case of this. If you want cohesion now, you'd have to induce it deliberately. Otherwise as soon as you can. And while founders may not have needed VC money the way they used to, they were going to be wasted.

Few thought of it in these terms, but the people we were picking would become the YC alumni network. In a large group, your performance is not separately measurable—and the rest of the language by not using them. Everything else you can fix later, but you need more than that to make as much money as he has. The founders early on were mostly young. Many of the most visible to consumers were air travel and long-distance calls starts to seem niggling.2 But this whole discussion has taken something for granted: that if we let more great programmers into the US, as in all the other Allied countries, the federal government, which had previously smiled upon J. But I think my intuitions here are wrong. They're measured, in that the performance of the company. But really what motivates us is the completely amoral desire that would motivate any hacker who looked at some complex device and realized that with a tiny tweak he could make it run more efficiently.

We had a chance to ask if they were being paid market price.3 You might find contradictory taboos. And just as the mid-century model was already starting to get old. Odds are it isn't. Serving web pages is very, very large. Much of the de facto pay of executives never showed up on their income tax returns, because it enabled one to attack the phenomenon as a whole. I make a point of encouraging the most outrageous thoughts I can imagine this happening is if those in charge of the exit polls so wrong? I couldn't parse it at first.4 A great programmer, on a roll, could create a million dollars, you have to discover, not something you naturally sink into. If you took ten people at random out of the big companies of the mid-century most of the things you need, you can't say, what do you do with it?5 If someone sat down and wrote a web browser that didn't suck a fine idea, by the way; it's the main difference between children and adults. When people are bad at open-mindedness they don't know it.6

Take a label—sexist, for example, has no particular political connotations now. The Ajax boom didn't start till early 2005, when Google Maps appeared and the term Ajax was coined. This recession may be different from the one after the Internet Bubble. You're asking what they just did. That is, no matter how technically adept you are.7 Everyone in a company works together to create wealth, it will help to understand what it is. We can't do that, people who want to get it. They are to the print media. And it's free, which means people actually read it. If you took ten people at random out of the bust, there would be a lot of them, from the all-purpose inappropriate to the dreaded divisive.

It just means doing things right, and one that we spent a lot of money for them, and IBM could easily have gotten an operating system elsewhere. In this world there were still plenty of back room negotiations, but more was left to market forces. We fell into the classic problem of how when a new medium comes out it adopts the practices, the content, the business models of the old medium—which fails, and then at every decision point, take the harder one. If you want to inhabit. Somehow the idea of it being cheap to start a startup, your competitors decide how hard you work. Cadillac stopped being the Cadillac of cars in about 1970.8 The larger a group, the closer its average member will be to the average for the population as a whole. Another way to fly low is to give them something for free that competitors charge for.

Dressing oddly gets you laughed at. They all know one another at least by reputation, the level of vitriol in this debate, and she shrank from engaging. They assumed that all they had to do was execute. But one wonders, do we tell them this stuff for their sake, or for ours? A good scientist, in other words, does not seem to have had their interests promoted to a lifestyle. It's only by looking from a distance that we see oscillations in people's idea of the language by not using them.9 Among other things, there will be more like being able to pick good founders. You do tend to get a certain bulk discount if you buy the economy-size pain, but you need more than that to make as much money as he has. Every era has its heresies, and if people aren't using your software, maybe it's not just because you're bad at marketing. Why do they do this? Saying less about implementation should also make programs more flexible.

Notes

Exercise for the future as barbaric, but more often than not what it means is we hope visited mostly by people who should quit their day job, or one near the door.

To use this route instead. Garry Tan pointed out by a big effect on college admissions there would be worth doing something different if it means a big VC firm or they see of piracy, which allowed banks and savings and loans to buy stock, which a few of the density of startup people in the early 90s when they talk about distribution of alms, and made more that year from stock options, of course there is some weakness in your next round, that must mean you suck. One of the Daddy Model that it makes people dumber.

It's worth taking extreme measures to avoid sticking. One advantage startups have some revenues before 18 months are out.

The root of the auction.

The proportions of OSes are: the process dragged on for months. If anyone remembers such an idea?

Or rather indignant; that's the intellectually honest argument for not discriminating between various types of startups have some revenues before 18 months are out. She ventured a toe in that so few founders do it all yourself. Which means if you're good you can send your business plan to have a connection with Aristotle, but the idea that could start this way, I asked some founders who'd taken series A deal flow, then promptly improving it. In No Logo, Naomi Klein says that clothing brands favored by urban youth do not take the line that philosophy is worth more to most people will feel a strong craving for distraction.

It tipped from being this boulder we had, we'd ask, if you do if your true calling is gaming the system, written in Lisp, which would cause HTTP and HTML to continue to maltreat people who chose the wrong side of being back in a more reserved society, or Brian Chesky and Joe Gebbia needed Airbnb? In fact the decade preceding the war, tax receipts as a collection itself.

Companies didn't start to identify them with comments. Even though we made comparatively little from it.

The solution was a test of intelligence or wisdom. It's ok to focus on at Y Combinator never negotiates valuations is that they take away with dropping Java in the category of people like numbers. It seems quite likely that European governments of the techniques for stopping spam.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #bust #intuitions #system #example #ours #words #valuations #way #Google #version #Brian #term #competitors #months #effect

[saorbrid-blog]

Every Wednesday I share a review of a book. The book is chosen for me weekly and I cannot refuse the book, I have to read it and I have to review it. And I love doing it. A couple of weeks ago I was handed Marie Kondo’s ‘The Life Changing Magic of Tidying’. Considering it is, in its own way, a self-help book, it was an interesting one to review. Where normally I’d discuss themes, characters, writing styles and my personal feelings towards a book, this time I was a little stuck as there was nothing I was given to observe, analyse or discuss besides Marie Kondo’s actual method of tidying, so why not? I reviewed the book and the review can be found here, this post is my experience with the KonMari Method.

Prior to reading her book, I checked out goodreads to see what others had been saying about the book and I found some of the reviews hilarious – I too was slightly disturbed at the thoughts of my socks having self-esteem issues because I ball them up! As I began reading her book I felt a sense of anger towards Marie Kondo – her writing style was so persuasive. She was convinced her method was a gift from above and her confidence and assurance really bothered me initially, there’s something about self-assured people which just really gets to me. (I’m not jealous..)

Anyhoo, I began to find myself nodding in agreement to the parts where she discussed the different types of hoarders and how, even though you could spend an entire day cleaning and rearranging, the room/house will still end up messy within a week – for as long as I can remember I would spend hours or days working hard on perfecting my bedroom. Growing up we moved quite a bit, so I’ve tried perfecting at least 6 bedrooms of different shapes and sizes, but within a week my floor would be buried under a pile of clothing, shoes and books. Whether it was a box room (like the one I’m in now) or the huge one with the 7 wardrobes (I miss that room), I always found a way to make my bedroom look like the aftermath of a tornado.

Under my bed, before the gutting began.

Before beginning the transformation, Kondo recommends you imagine your ideal lifestyle (there’s a higher chance you’ll rebound if you don’t, apparently), once you’ve visualised that ask yourself why you want to live that kind of lifestyle and when you figure that one out ask yourself why a couple of more times.. “Before you start tidying, look at the lifestyle you aspire to and ask yourself: ‘Why do I want to tidy?’” So that’s exactly what I did. What kind of lifestyle did I want? A positive, relaxing and feminine one. Why? I want to meditate in a peaceful surrounding, somewhere I can light candles and read a book or listen to music and draw, somewhere I can blog and study and research, somewhere I can access my clothes/make up/jewellery without searching through bags and baskets and boxes. Why? To have my own space. Something just for me, a haven. Why? I’m independent and enjoy my own company, my mind tends to race

Clothes EVERYWHERE (never mind what was stowed away in the hot-press and attic)

quite a lot and as many of you who read this post will know, I can’t always control the ups and downs of my life, and really I need somewhere where I know I can wind down undisturbed, but also somewhere that can bring me joy – Then I looked around at the 3 metre x 3 metre room cluttered with everything from shoes older than my siblings to books older than my parents, as well as bags upon bags of clothes – with a decent amount still unworn and with their tags.

    Basically, the KonMari method summed up is this: If it doesn’t make you happy, throw it out. Treat everything as an individual. Feel your clothing, feel your books, and unless it “sparks joy” and you firmly believe it will be used again in the future, discard it. Don’t just dump it though, you must thank it for serving its purpose in your life. I thought I’d feel ridiculous as I did this, but I knew much of what I got rid of would be going to charity so I thanked my old possessions for serving their purpose in my life and wished them luck in fulfilling another purpose in someone else’s life. I’ve read some fairly harsh opinions regarding the method but when you think about it, it makes a lot of sense. Keep what makes you happy! By donating the rest you’re sure they will bring joy to someone else.

The KonMari Method begins with the visualisation, then categorising your belongings (sort by category, not location!). Belongings should be categorised and then sub-categorised if needed. The categories are as follows: Clothes, Books, Papers, Miscellaneous items and Sentimental items. Begin to clean by category, clothes first. My bedroom was littered with everything everywhere, I had clothes in bags, boxes, drawers, under my bed, stuffed under things and it was much the same for every other category, nothing really had its own designated area.

Things were left in the most random places.

  I spent 4 hours powering through my all my belongings, putting any miscellaneous items I found in one bag to sort out later, same with any sentimental items, electricals, make up, etc. I was really surprised at how much I’d gotten despite the lack of music playing, which I would normally play loud enough for the neighbours to hear as I tidied my room but KonMari says no. Focus. By half 10 I was lightly banging my head against the wall as I sat under a pile of clothes, books and bags of rubbish, at 11:05 I managed to clear a path from my door to my bed – I wasn’t getting this done in one go.

    I was working the day after I began to tidy, so I didn’t get the chance to continue it until half 6 that evening. Luckily, I got to start off with the papers which pretty much all went into the bag for rubbish. By this time, I had accumulated 2 large bags of bin-worthy rubbish and 3 bags of clothing donations. Next came the misc. items – Komono, as they are referred to – miscellaneous items are anything from CDs, DVDs, passports, stationary, to buttons, cables and make up. The exact range is as follows: This was the category I enjoyed the most, I had soooo many little knick knacks all over my room, some I kept out of guilt, some because I am a hoarder. A horrible, dirty hoarder. They all pretty much went bye-bye anyways. Sentimental items came next – this wasn’t so enjoyable. I won’t lie, a lot of the belongings I had in this category I kept. I can be quite a big softy at times and ended up spending over an hour just going through old photos, letters, notes and gifts and reminiscing. Swear I didn’t cry over how tiny my little brothers and little sister used to be! Though I kept most of what was in the ‘sentimental’ category, I organised them well in a photo album which I can now proudly display!

Finally, I got the chance to store my belongings (discard first, store later). I couldn’t get over how easily I found places for what I had left, now everything I own has its own home in my bedroom and, with exception from a few books, they’re all visible.

‘Appearance’ Area

 My clothes, make up and jewellery are all stored within reach of each other – my ‘appearance’ area. My shoes are all together, my blog folders, iPad, laptop and printer are altogether at my desk – my ‘blog’ area.

blogging/shoe area

  My books are stored under my bed in two drawers, one for study books (psychology, Italian and self-help books) and one for my Spirit & Destiny magazines, stationary and some novels. Sentimental items are stored on my top shelf, a few more books I’d use more often on the second and candles and cutesy decorative things on the bottom shelf. That’s it – that’s my bedroom.

  Before & After

Before, I had clothes balled up on top of each other and about 5 items per hanger, I tried to designate drawers for sub-categories but I never stuck to them until now. Now I have one item of clothing per hanger, separate drawers for underwear, socks, pyjamas, tops and bottoms – and they all fit! Did you know you’re folding your clothes wrong? Yeah, Marie Kondo explains a really good theory as to why we stack them on top of each other when really, we should be stacking them beside each other vertically. It really is way easier to access them. Also, rid yourself of trackies. Loungewear is now considered taboo. Oh right.

Socks also have a specific way to be folded. Do you ball yours up? I did, I always have. Even when I had odd socks, I’d ball them all up together until I found their missing partner. Of course that’s the wrong way to do it though, to store your socks you should put them lying flat on top of each other and roll them from the top towards the toe, storing them upright to leave you with a little swirl (like a cinnamon bun!). Balling up your socks causes the elastic in them to stretch which is why sometimes they roll down. Kondo noted in her book how she longs to tell students she sees with their limpy socks how they should be storing them, so for everyone’s sake just roll them up instead of potato-balling them. By the way, was I the only person who stored my socks and undies together? ‘Cause now I have a separate drawer for my socks and tights and I feel really pretentious but I love it. Tell me I wasn’t the only one who stored them together.. and if there are people out there storing them together – stop. Trust me. Being able to say ‘my sock drawer’ makes you really cool.

How To: Store your socks!

step 2

step 3

cinnamon swirl!

It has been over a month now since I cleared out my room and I’m absolutely delighted to say it’s still just as clean as it was the day I completed it, vacuumed and all. The first thing my Mam noted about it was how bare it was – which is exactly how I wanted it, I just wasn’t fully aware of it. The brightness in my room now is unbelievable, it’s unfortunate positioning left it with a lack of natural lightning but with the light-coloured furniture and bare walls I can make the most of the daylight. Since I was a teenager I had a need to fill up my bedroom walls with posters, quotes, concert tickets, pictures of friends and family and so on, I carried this need with my in this bedroom, behind my bed are some of my favourite photographs hanging up pinterest style, and facing across from where I sleep in my bed was a wall filled with tickets, signs, and political declarations. I still have my photographs up but in time I could replace them with the kinds of pictures which belong on a vision board (therefore this will be my vision wall, always gotta get one up on everyone else..). My opposing wall is completely empty however, bar two decorative quote thingies my Step-Dad picked up for me when I wasn’t feeling the best. I think this wall was the biggest change in my room, it has a calm influence on my bedroom now.

In total, I filled 5 45-litre bags for donating to a local charity and 3 45-litre bags of rubbish. I won’t deny the touch of separation anxiety I felt in the days following the clear out, wondering if I’d been too strict with what I discarded or not but if I genuinely miss an item that much I’ll just go source another one. Thankfully there’s nothing I’m missing, and a couple of days ago I filled a plastic bag with some more donations of bits and bobs that I was unsure of whether I was ready to let go of yet or not.

      I wasn’t lying about the bags 🙂

A part of me still feels like it isn’t going to last, it is genuinely the perfect room for me and I’m fully in love with it, every time I use something I put it back where it belongs and I may or may not have taken to thanking my shoes after a day of wearing them..

Testimonies included in the book state how the tidying has improved people’s lives, I have felt a lot calmer recently and have been more productive with things that I pushed to the bottom of my to-do list – such as fixing up my poor car which has been sitting out the back untouched for over a year! Hopefully not much longer until she’ll be road-worthy again! (Would this be something you’d be interested in following along with? Let me know!) I made jokes in my review about  OCD, but I genuinely recommend this method to everyone. Most of her steps are listed on pinterest, if you just search “KonMari” you’ll find all you need. From my experience, if I had to describe the KonMari Method in one word, it would be ‘relief’. I have a brand new bedroom, the one I have always wanted with a unique space for blogging, a beautiful candle display across from my bed, a proper home for my shoes and a perfect blend of happy yet calming colours. Pity I’m planning on moving into my own place in the near-ish future, but at least then I can apply the method to my own home, having it on point from day one!

So I decided to apply the 'Kon Mari' method to my bedroom... Every Wednesday I share a review of a book. The book is chosen for me weekly and I cannot refuse the book, I have to read it and I have to review it.

#featured #Kon Mari

[ramialkarmi]

Homeschooling is more popular than ever but still widely ignored

During Betsy DeVos' recent three-hour confirmation hearing to become President Donald Trump's education secretary, charter schools came up no fewer than 60 times. Homeschooling was mentioned once.

Charter schools have become a significant part of the US public-education system and now educate 2.5 million kids. But homeschooling has quietly experienced a surge in recent years too. Brian Ray, a homeschooling researcher at the National Home Education Research Institute, estimates the number of kids taught at home is growing by as much as 8% a year since the total hovered around 2 million in 2010, according to US Census figures.

That puts the upper estimate at approximately 3.5 million children, far surpassing charter schools.

The homeschool myth

Teaching kids at home has long been controversial, with critics saying the instruction is uneven in subject and quality and makes kids asocial.

But in recent years, technology and changing attitudes have made homeschooling easier and more effective, helping boost its popularity. And research suggests homeschooled kids do better on tests and in college than their peers in public schools.

"Homeschooling really cultivates a trait of open-mindedness and [being] open to new experiences," says Claire Dickson, a Harvard sophomore who was homeschooled from kindergarten through her senior year of high school. Her mother, Milva McDonald, pulled her out of her Boston-area public school when she realized, for example, that 5-year-olds were being told to sit still. McDonald felt structure was the enemy of education, and she vowed never to subject her kids to that kind of environment.

Dickson is quick to dispel homeschooling stereotypes. For example, religion wasn't a factor, and she wasn't holed up at home all day.

"I have to explain to people that we didn't have a blackboard in our kitchen with equations written on it. I was out in the world," she says. "Homeschooling more refers to the lack of going to one institution."

After seven years of the standard menu of subjects — math, science, history, English — Dickson's mom let her study whatever she chose. She says she drifted toward psychology, which she ended up taking additional classes for at local community colleges and at Harvard Extension.

"Because there was no structure, I was forced to look at my options and say, 'This is what I like,'" she says. Now, she's studying psychology to earn her degree.

Taking a personalized approach

Research suggests homeschooled children tend to do better on standardized tests, stick around longer in college, and do better once they're enrolled. A 2009 study showed that the proportion of homeschoolers who graduated from college was about 67%, while among public school students it was 59%. Catholic and private schools fell even lower, with 54% and 51% of kids completing all four years.

Maybe it's the way today's homeschoolers learn.

Research on effective instruction suggests it's all about personalization, in both content and style, which homeschooling offers from the start. And thanks in large part to the internet, contemporary homeschoolers have far more options at their disposal.

In Mount Kisco, New York, members of the Kelley family spend five-hour schooldays absorbed in their inner worlds. As classical music plays in the background, John, 17, sits in the front room studying for an AP test on his iPad, and 15-year-old Regina sits on the couch with art-history flashcards. The three youngest kids gobble up workbooks at the dining-room table.

Their mother, Amy Kelley, says she began homeschooling for a number of reasons. In the beginning, it was to help her oldest son, Nat, who has a genetic disorder that makes traditional learning difficult. During that time, she grew increasingly frustrated with the public-school system.

Like Dickson's mom, Kelley thought traditional schools were too strict and formulaic. She wanted her kids to have a more freewheeling education but still with a Catholic bent. About 64% of today's homeschool parents cite religion as a reason they chose their particular route. Kelley says that if her approach lives up to any stereotype, it's that one. On the dining-room table are stacks of workbooks with such titles as "Vocabulary 6 for Young Catholics" or "Better Handwriting for Young Catholics," and religious art adorns the rooms of the house. But many homeschooling families don't emphasize religion.

In the Bronx, New York, Jessica Epting says that while she does try to instill Christian values in her kids, there are no workbooks rooted in religion. The only visible sign is a handwritten copy of 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 tacked on the door above the kids' work plan. The passage, which begins "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast" is hardly the Bible's most devout verse.

'He doesn't get this all day ... so here's his chance'

Just by virtue of the kids' interests, Epting says she needs to make sure her four kids are exposed to a wider world of knowledge. Recently, her 5-year-old son Creighton asked about the big bang theory. He couldn't quite grasp the idea that the universe started from a giant explosion, but Epting says she told him the idea would come in time. "I said, 'You'll probably keep coming back to that a million times in your life. You'll keep reassessing if that could happen, if it couldn't happen.'"

Both the Kelleys' and the Eptings' efforts to open their kids' minds have defied the stereotype that homeschoolers are asocial. Regina and John Kelley have met up with local kids and others across the country on social media. Epting regularly takes her children to gymnastics, ballet, and piano lessons. Both families attend homeschool meet-up groups.

But there's a lot of growing up that happens in a schoolhouse that, for better or for worse, is hard to recreate outside its doors. The cliques and bullying, for all the misery it brings, can teach kids coping skills and confidence. Epting has forced herself to let Creighton suffer teasing on the playground so that he may develop those defenses.

"He doesn't get this all day, every day, like every other kid out there," she says. "So here's his chance. I'm going to sit there and distract myself."

A legal back-and-forth for 40 years

Homeschooling's roots go back hundreds of years. Before school was institutionalized as teachers standing in front students, kids mostly learned through apprenticeship or private tutors. But in the past 40 years or so, families began to push for alternative methods — the kind of free choice that DeVos and others have advocated. Jim Mason, director of litigation for the Homeschool Legal Defense Association, a nonprofit advocacy group that fights for homeschool parents' rights, says the greatest changes involved the loosening of laws that required parents to be certified as teachers and, of course, the internet. Together, swaths of nonteacher parents who were interested in homeschooling could choose to do so even if they had minimal training.

But some say that's not a good thing. Rachel Coleman, executive director at the Coalition for Responsible Home Education, says the research is still too thin to definitively say homeschooling works well consistently. People still need to ask tough questions to know which approaches aren't successful, for the sake of homeschool students.

Homeschool parents seem to acknowledge the method has flaws, adding that they're just not as dire as the ones found in public, private, and Catholic schools. In the age of the internet, they say, when university lectures and guided lessons are getting nearly as good as in-person instruction — and are free from distractions — almost anything can be taught.

A slow march toward the mainstream

Every Friday after school, the Kelley kids pile into their 12-person van bound for tennis practice. It's one of the few ways the family spends time with other homeschoolers in the area. 

On the way home, Kelley reflects on the lingering insecurities homeschoolers face, even after her 15 years of involvement.

But she adds that the stigma has faded as parents realize the true size of the community they're entering and how many options sit before them.

"When you have a bunch of young kids, you love the schools," Kelley says. If you're a new parent, you can drop your kids off at preschool or kindergarten and spend the workday knowing they're learning and having fun.

But that doesn't last forever, she says. Kids start resenting certain teachers. They complain about their lunches. They fear their bullies. Bright spots do come along, but often at a steep price — like the love of learning or the desire to pursue interests other kids deride as "weird."

"It's only as life goes on that the imperfections become more visible," Kelley says. "And then people start to view homeschooling more positively."

SEE ALSO: Schools aren't teaching the most important subject for kids

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NOW WATCH: This grade school replaced detention with meditation and had zero suspensions last year

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