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sugar-petals · 1 year

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sub!𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷 💙𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 (18+)

⇢ gentle femdom (n.) :: a variant of bdsm emphasizing affectionate play with a pliant sub rather than hard kinks, brat taming, sadism, or hierarchy.

pairing. pleaser!bangchan x femdom!reader

WARNINGS. ⚠️ rated m, soft sub chris, light restraints, studio and car sex, mommy kink, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, frottage, shy chan, vanilla positions, lack of aftercare bc chan sleeps fast 😅, self-esteem issues, food play mention, established relationship

★ wc. 3k

↳ [ // 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] a soft hc for for valentine’s 💌 following lee know’s version, more sub!skz worldbuilding! good boy chan agenda going strong here... truth be told, it’s always interesting to write leaders showing their true face. not sure if i’ll make this a complete series due to my standard high word counts; if there’s a member u absolutely want to read about take to the replies/asks, if multiple people chime in for someone i see what i can do! as for now, sub chan enthusiasts enjoy! 💛

read it on ao3 | 💋 masterlist 💋

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Fast asleep within a mere five minutes. Like an ice statue frozen for a thousand years. If this guy puts the strain of having sex on top of his already endless to-do list, he’s gonna doze off in Guinness World record time some day. In his vocabulary, what even is aftercare? He’s like don’t worry mate, I’m fine, maybe a warm glass of water, now good nig—zzZ.

When you didn’t know each other so well yet, you planned to run him a nice bath and all, but reality hit with Chan entering the dream land after getting a spanking. So, in the end, aftercare is just handing him a pillow and toweling him down while he’s already in the twilight zone. See you tomorrow! Reducing the craziness of sex doesn’t really make him stay awake, nor do you want him to — any sleep is good sleep for Chan, anyway. If sex exhaustion is his justification for sleep rather than editing another whole damn album, why not. Play with you is his best excuse to nap.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chan likes his arms and wow-factor shoulders generally, but it’s not limited to them. Some days, he’s way happier with something else (proud of leg day, let’s go). On other days, he doesn’t like anything and tries to ignore that. Every mirror an enemy. The next day, he feels better about something else entirely. Stray Kids going through so many bold outfits and intricate stylings has sort of confused him about how he naturally looks sometimes. Chan is not content with his bare face, but feels better after you pepper it with kisses.

When it comes to you, he’d never say a thing about a preference. You won't be able to tell where Chan’s mind goes the most, and it generally doesn’t hyperfocus on one body part anyway. Does he like legs best, hips, hands, back, your chest? No one knows. All he says is, „I really like your figure“ — and that’s all. Of course he thinks his domme is hot as fuck, in fact, he thinks she fucking slays. He’s just a gentleman about it.

You like his eyebrows and curly bangs a lot. In your eyes, he has a really handsome and memorable face to begin with (that eyeshadow game makes it even better, holy cow). Even classically handsome, even if he doesn’t really believe it. You saying „Damn you look good!“ when he puts on a tight outfit that accentuates his body shape, it really flatters him to the core. You like his sexy face chains and accessories, chokers galore, and virtually any type of harness fitted all across his torso or legs. Chan is a wet BDSM dream come true and he doesn’t even realize it, does he.

c= cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Actually not that into it. His own cum, I mean. Chan usually forgets to rub one out even when he feels a little twitch while working. Too focused. He ignores his libido often. Same idea extends to cumming inside you as far as vanilla is concerned. Chan knows it’s awkward to clean it all out. He’d rather wear protection and release on his own stomach, then quickly get rid of it if he’s not dozing already.

He blushes hearing you talk dirty about semen, but the real thing? Chris isn’t obsessed like some other people would be. It’s a necessary evil to him, and just another thing bodies do. His orgasms tend to underwhelm him or disappoint no matter what he does, he’s not as confident pushing himself to a maximum of pleasure by himself. He depends a lot on you to chase a high sometimes, which makes him feel deficient. You notice that he beats himself up and suggest some more gentle femdom forms of sex that focus more on sensuality and less adrenaline. Works way better for him. Besides modeling harnesses like a pro, Chan is actually a die-hard soft sub.

On the other hand… Duality. Selfless Chan is totally focused on having you completely soaked at his very creative fingertips. Cum play 5000. He’s a musician. And producer. And dancer. And singer. And rapper. Safe to say that fella has rhythm.

And: Don’t worry. He’s not the type to edge and finger you recklessly. Chan isn’t brutal, nor is he punishing. Always the exact opposite. Pleasing, pleasing, pleasing. His submissive tendencies show almost everywhere. The most daring thing he’d do is tease you with a bright smile, which probably makes you wanna bust a nut on the same spot, ain’t it so. You Chan hard stan, you. He constantly asks for feedback and wants your own hands to do it with him so he can learn: That good boy. How that tiny spot of yours can make your whole body feel so electric is quite astounding to him. Getting you off and making you laugh? His favorite downtime.

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Other people probably assume his ultimate kink and darkest fantasy would be something like `Chan being selfish and cruel for once´. Just doing something because he craves it. Or something like topping you for fun, large and in charge, leader mode. Little did they know that Chan’s most secret wish is you finally meeting his parents for an evening of barbecue. Ain’t he typical.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

More than you think, less than you assume. He’s a lovely Libra. The golden middle of everything is true for him. He’s not dared to directly approach any crush he had, but yes, always prompting a shy and nervous response, he’s the one who’s been approached quite a couple times. By a handful of dominants who saw right through him, too, yes. A bit of flirting over some dinner did went down, but only a dozen dates turned into some tentative, makeshift sexual activity at their place. Obviously not the dorm, he’d never do that. He’s not Hwang Hyunjin getting pegged — next to Lee Know, gaming — by every girl in a ten-mile radius.

Chan also received an Inkigayo sandwich and had a genuinely lovely time. It went on for two months until it got a bit awkward. All in good spirits, though. Because seriously. Caring as he is, and always with the other person’s well-being in mind, how could Chan ruin a breakup. If there is a split, the transition period to a new chapter will be seamless, not heartbreaking. A few tears will fall, the chest is heavy, but he’s not gonna engage in a war of roses and lose face. He does have complaints, but he’s no mean guy. Even when he has a reason to accuse an ex, he will swallow it. The shit he’s bottled up. Chan will feel burdened, down for quite some days, but focus on moving on properly when it’s possible.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

Undecided. Doesn’t want your head too far away nor too close. He’s afraid of accidents, hurting your face somehow, he’s a little paranoid. A bit of movement distance is good for soft missionary, it can be bridged by kissing. Chan uses his arms to prop himself up, gyrating so fucking heavenly, and you can grab his ass. All the praise you’ll shower him with. You’ll often be having sex in a back hug, that’s a good one, too. Especially seated, with Chan leaning forward a little to meet your spine with his chest. All you see is legs legs legs twitching under you, damn good view.

Girl on top, however, occupies both of your minds all the time. That’s where you feel at home. Comfortable for both of you, Chan can be more passive, you active. Your bed or couch needs lots of pillows, though, it’s too empty and scary for him otherwise. The floor is off limits, not cozy enough, you agree. You’re a cozy couple. Chan draped over a hard surface on his back, naked, is a sexy as fuck image in your head, but the reality is not snuggly and warm enough.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Total goofball, you love the guy’s sexy time humor. His crinkly eyes ad triangle-shaped dimples (yes they’re literally like that) always alleviate the moment and bridge an awkward silence or pause. Chan has a soft spot for your outrageous jokes, too. Your every word has him almost hanging by a thread so to speak, he’s a very active listener. Dirty talk and conversation absolutely dominate your sex life, silent sexy time is a natural, mutually agreed upon no-go.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Clean pits, clean everything. He’s pretty economical with it. Adapts to your wishes, puts lots of effort in. If it’s gotta be a hairy situation, the rules are even stricter, even if he sometimes forgets to maintain it, which makes Chan feel terribly sorry. „Won’t happen again! Oh geez.“ Uneven hairs piss him off, he’s the legend of trimming everything in place.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Can’t stay serious and focused for two seconds. Says a cheesy thing as soon as you even blink.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Too busy with his beautiful fingers between your labia to think about himself. As always: Chan gives and gives and gives without ever taking. When you’re driving to the gym and he takes the passenger seat, prepare for masturbation galore — all while he doesn’t touch himself one bit. You reward him with a little improvised frottage with his upright dick crushed against your ass later on the backseat. Both of you in your underwear: Because it’s hotter. Chan comes pretty fast, his cock is so sensitive to being squeezed by you. Turn around while you grind on him because his surprised facial expressions are just glorious. His tight body in his sports clothing feels so damn good, you can do this all day long.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

Feeding each other delicious sweets and random food bits. He’s totally enamored with this. You can be silly together, carefree, he can be your cutest little one. Not entirely in an age play sense, more as a casual endearment.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

So, besides the car and bed. His production studio chair is surprisingly not the way to go. Too narrow, moves around too much, spins at every damn movement. Studio couch is more like it. The amount of times you’ve made out on there, the members would so judge him for being thirsty. But you see the practical aspect. Increased support, decently elastic if not a little bouncy, and a comfortable surface that’s easy to clean for him. It’s not like Chan keeps typing and producing with you on his lap at the table. Come on, he focuses on you. When you sit next to him or on him casually to see what he’s working on, sure, he will go on as usual though. But it’s often him who wants to sit on your lap to get pampered, or between your legs non-sexually if he’s too heavy for you. At home, any spot will do, long as it has a pillow fort.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Affection and courtesy. Compared to some other members, say Felix, Chan doesn’t submit to try stuff out and to chase a kinky curiosity. The principle and chivalry counts for him instead. Being a domme pleaser and body worship advocate 5000 is what keeps Chan coming back for more. Stress relief is a side effect, pun intended.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Hard domming you. He has leader energy on stage, but privately, mercurial goofball he is, it just doesn’t suit him. Chan would never make you scream or sob, and he can’t use a whip on your ass either. That image is so strange to both of you. Although he matches the aesthetic of a hard dom when he’s dressed up like one, face chain wolf gang and all, actually doing all this stuff creeps him out. He recoils at the thought of smacking you roughly or doling out a harsh anal punishment. Raw and hateful sex is simply not his schtick. Again, he’s Hyunjin’s opposite on the submission scale: Mister Hwang is very open to being demolished in a crazy hate fuck by any dominant daring enough. That’s where smacking and violently punishing is very welcome. Chan, he prefers a forehead kiss to make him squeal.

Chan would be all shifty on his feed and be confused constantly if he had to dominate in a cold and relentless way. Being a soft dom is all he could muster, which would simply wind up him service subbing in a covert way — no one’s surprised. And the major obstacle is, Chan simply cannot switch off his charm. He just can’t. It’s in his tone of voice all the time. The only exception happens when he reprimands the members for not taking something seriously enough, but well — he doesn’t have to pull that voice on you. You know the stakes of this relationship and meet him with a logical mindset. You take topping him very seriously like a fucking pro, in fact. Chan got nothing on you, he thinks he’d look like an amateur.

If we’re going there at all: Chan can’t stand the whole kink of say, his girl age regressing to her toddler days, diapers and everything. He’d be like what… It’s too much for him, and his whole Stray Kids’ father role doesn’t have to be his entire identity. Chan appreciates a sexual slash romantic partner who is level-headed and talks to him on equal grounds. He doesn’t want someone tugging at his sleeve all the time talking in a baby voice, he prefers more mature flirting and interactions. He’s the one getting shy, his domme is the wise one. So: No infantilizing his girlfriend. They’re called Stray Kids and not Stray Adults, so he already fosters the whole group as a full-time job — back at home, he’s looking for an authority instead.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh shit, here they come. Those beautiful, pinkish, big and juicy lips. They’re wonderful and shapely, just right, so puckered. It’s the ace up his sleeve! You’ll grind the chapstick off of `em at every opportunity. He’ll quickly get fantastic at giving head, the eye contact is always a stunner. The lips are usually outclassing his tongue, though you should never underestimate someone who works a mic for a living.

His consistency… I swear. Completely deprioritizes receiving. He’s clumsy with eating you out in the first month of dating, hence why he wants to improve. Although it irks him that he’s not a natural talent, your comforting words will help him. „Not everyone can be born as Hwang Hyunjin.“ — „So true, bestie. Or Felix, too.“ He embraces his beginner mindset and hey, come on: That he tries so hard is worth ten sex toys, the effort and dedication counts. Like he can suck on a dildo in no time. Not ready for the strap yet, but that’s ok. His progress tends to be astounding, he remembers his mishaps and strengths very well. Nerdy Chan writes down what he should keep in mind, that’s a hell of a man right here.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Nothing subspace-inducing, we’re keeping it midrange speed here. Though, remember this guy is a literal sports student, athlete, multi talent. He can pull off anything you wish for, you just gotta ask. Nevertheless, he’s too sweet to go and say „let’s just fuck like rabbits, 3, 2, 1, go!“ — some other certain members are more fond of that. Lee Know, Hyunjin, Han, to name the holy trinity of dick destruction. They just wanna get wrecked. CBT and everything. Chan loves pleasure and passion more than ending up ruined, his workload does that for him.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yep. Pretty boy likes those. Big fan. Any day. Treats the two of you with cooking afterwards.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Sexually? Not at all. Besides a little fun and games (read: flirting and pillow fights), he’s beyond mellow. Bangchan is the last person on earth to demand that you amp up your dominatrix game to do something questionable. As in, to experiment with even more extreme practices, electro play, knife play, sounding, that stuff. Or to put on specific, highly sexualized outfits. Again, that would contradict your coziness at home.

He’s not a fan of pushing his dominant to their limit, or having a stake in their appearance whatsoever. You’re not there for his appetite, because he’s the snack. As is good practice, he coordinates a sexual scene together with you, and can make cute wink-wink suggestions: But they’re literally harmless. Such as, „maybe… tie my hands with a ribbon or something?“, and it’s all in an open-ended question format just like that. It’s up to you to allow it or not.

In other words: Bangchan’s inner power bottom is what? Non-existent. Which differs wildly from some other members. Han would totally beg you to slap the shit out of him just so he can experience a shock of adrenaline. Bratty Felix would tease his domme with his ass until she tames him with pinches, clamps, and squeezing. Chan would never even consider asking to be fucking wrestled. It’s 100% you who suggests kinks that carry more danger, like heavy chains with collars, or using a Sybian on him, although that’s not risky from a pro’s perspective. He takes the backseat and will most definitely not provoke any trouble or unsafe etiquette willingly.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He took ballet classes. All you need to know. Strength and tension and discipline are words not unfamiliar to him. His dick won’t last long, but the rest of his body will: Unless he danced like crazy that day. Which means time for spoiling and caressing him, talking him through, tucking him into bed. No hard domination please.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Bondage rope, yes. Red lights was right, he’s a rope bunny. Other particular toys no… with some room for experimenting sometimes. But he’s not a crazy toy collector, one quality vibrating aid to get you off is worth a 100 random items that he’d buys just to buy them. So, no to that. He’s particular and looks for what really fits the two of you. Strap-on experiments are fine, he quite likes to take it on all fours until one of you cramps. You’re not powering through, but that one’s a long and prep-heavy session. Blowing his back out is probably a bad idea, going slow and steady with lots of reassurance works way better.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chan’s ‚explanation voice‘ and constant questions can drag out foreplay for half an hour. By any means: The Chansplaining needs to find it’s due end. You get down to business by just unzipping his damn pants. A call to inspect your sexy sub is the perfect shortcut, admittedly just to see his thick package. „Take your cock out, honey. Let me take a good look at it.“ — instantly flustered Chan is putty in your hands.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

„Yes, mommy!“ — that’s medium loud. Can be more silent, too, but never not super breathy. Drastic spikes in volume, not so much. It’s a constant moaning. Though, I might be understating this, the whole group has a very high benchmark for volume. 80% of Stray Kids are fucking screamers.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chan talks about how much he loves having sex with you all while he’s fast sleep constantly. Babbling in his dreams is not uncommon, the members seem to be on his mind a lot unsurprisingly, but this one stands out to you.

x = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

What he’s got in his sweatpants is like a Monsta X song. I don’t know what else to liken it to. Thing is, he’s not working with a whopping 10 inches. Who the hell carries that. He’s in a comfortable but aesthetically pleasing upper midrange, and really not too awkwardly long at all. It absolutely wouldn’t suit him. Girth and full balls is where it’s at. Also: Big ass alert. Your designated smack target and stress ball. You’re not surprised that Lino acts the way he does given how um cheeky the members are. Chan’s has such a nice curve, fuck.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s not Felix going „Lemme suck your tiddies real quick“ at every opportunity. Chan is more like „Okay, can I…?“ And he always ends up surprised how easily he gets going. It’s nothing when compared to his awkward jack-off sessions at work. You know what he’s capable of with one glance. Chan is a sensualist. Someone so sporty knows how to get their blood pumping. And: He’s channeled a fuck ton of his sexual energy into dance and his ten thousand other physical talents. You know precisely how to train him to get the desired results.

z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

You can use a damn stopwatch. He’s gone, ciao, bye, hasta luego, see you soon. In your arms, looking as angelic as ever. At the end of the day, Chan’s rapid deep sleep is pretty cute. This sub is a little innocent cherub. He’s in good hands with you.

read it on ao3

sub!idols m.list ♡

lee know alphabet version

sub!skz orgasm faces/bondage scenario

sub!hyunjin oneshot | sub!felix oneshot

💕 likes, rbs, comments v much appreciated, let’s talk 💕

#sub!skz #stray kids smut #sub!stray kids #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #dom!reader #stray kids #skz imagines #skz headcanons #sub!skz x dom!reader #bang chan smut #sub!bang chan #bang chan #skz chan #smut alphabet #smut a-z #long post

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defilerwyrm · 8 months

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I'm a trans man who wants phallo SO bad but the Fear Mongering people do makes me so scared. I have such a fear of surgery anyway and people say phallo is nearly 23hrs long, and it has more risks than heart surgery does, and idk if these are true bc I'm too scared to google it..But I want it so bad, but the stuff I hear scares me. Also people saying it doesn't have any sensation worries me. You said trans men can ask about it so I hope this is ok to do on anon!!! I'd appreciate a non fear filled reply so much thanks!!

23 hours!! Those poor surgeons, can you imagine!

Virtual hugs if you’re the hugging type, Anon, and a cool rock if you’re not.

Those things are definitely not true, not remotely. It’s a long surgery, but when I say it’s long that means it’s about 8 hours all told. It sounds like maybe someone heard it referred to as an “all-day” thing meaning a full WORK day, but instead assumed that that meant a full CALENDAR day. Or, you know, a transphobe made shit up to scare people.

It is most definitely not nearly as risky to your wellbeing as a surgery in which they saw open your sternum and cut open your actual beating heart. There is a fairly high chance of a minor complication that can result in the terrible ordeal of getting pee on your pants sometimes—a urethral fistula—and in most cases, they close up on their own anyway without needing another surgery to correct them. And in this case, “fairly high” means 40%, so it’s still less than half a chance that it’ll happen in the first place. At worst it’s annoying. Serious complications, the type that put you in danger, are extremely rare.

The sensation thing is also false, because they literally harvest a length of nerve from your donor site and hook it up to your existing bits specifically so you WILL have sensation! Sure, it takes a little while for the nerve to heal, but that’s just the reality of ANY surgery.

The nerve grows back in your donor site, too, by the way. While I was typing this up I discovered that one particular spot on my graft is ticklish.

Everyone has their own individual healing factor, but speaking for myself, I had full erotic sensation before the 3-month mark, and the orgasms have been incredible. The head and base are highly sensitive, and everything in between responds pretty damn nicely too, just less of a hit-the-ceiling level of sensitivity. And, you know, if you’ve handled an AMAB person’s penis much at all you’ll know that’s pretty much in keeping with how their dicks work too.

It is an in-patient surgery so if you have it, you’ll be staying in a hospital for a few days so they can keep an eye out for rare disasters. My stay was four or five days of snoring most of the day and periodically getting woken up to eat or answer some simple check-in questions, lift my arm for nurses to move stuff, etc, and then conking back out.

Being cathed sucks, but two weeks of frequent trips to the toilet to drain your bag is honestly nothing compared to a lifetime without (or with vastly reduced) bottom dysphoria. That’s the part that I hated. Everything else was your typical recovery: 10-15 days of sleeping 20 hours a day, then however many weeks of being tired, taking meds, and careful washing, gradually feeling more and more normal until you’re back up to full and ready to get back to business as usual.

Except with this one, you get to learn to pee standing up in the process. :D

(Protip: don’t try a public urinal until you’ve got it down pat at home. Not because of cis men, but because the learning process is messy, lol! The overwhelming majority of cis men in public restrooms want nothing to do with anyone else while they’re in there. The only place anyone’s gonna give your dick more than half a second’s accidental glance is in a gay bar. In 8+ years of using public men’s rooms I have yet to see one (1) penis that wasn’t mine!)

#phalloplasty #ftm #trans men #bottom surgery #trans matters #transphobia.#queerdom #medical transition #replies to things

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 10 months

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Be My Valentine | Ch- 1 "No"

pairing: Vernon x reader

genre: fluff, angst, slight crack, friends to lovers, non-idol!au, college au

summary: College was hard enough and the thought of spending Valentine’s Day alone and sad was not your style. And the best solution was to go on a platonic date with your best friend Vernon. It goes so well that it becomes a tradition until it gets messy… nothing ever goes wrong by pretend-dating your best friend right?

status: ongoing

a/n: first time trying something like this cuz I saw too many edits on Vernon’s Fire verse! Please tell me your feedback!

pictures from Pinterest!

As if the sheer cold of the dying February winter was not enough to make life miserable, it also had to be dubbed the month of love. You weren’t a cynic but you knew enough to understand that Valentine’s Day and the gala around it is all nothing but a big capitalistic scheme. As the happy couples invest in the meaningless gifts and expressions of their extravagant love, the lonely saps drown their sorrows in the name of self-love. But your biggest complaint against this whole bonanza is the forced self-hate, even though it usually felt perfectly normal to be single and you even enjoyed it, this time of the year it always felt worse.

Maybe you were just another miserable single sap.

This year was going to be different. You were determined. But also you didn’t want to go through the painful process of pretending to be interested in a guy who, like all the other ones, would either turn out to be misogynist, homophobe or a transphobe- which constitutes 90% of the available population in your uni.

Hence why you find yourself walking with purpose toward the university library with the sole motive of hunting down you’re too smart for his own good best friend of a year and a half, Vernon.

You still remember meeting that shy little boy on the first day of your undergrad, looking lost in the crowd of the class and hoping you would let him sit with you. All it took was an awkward introduction for both of you to build your solid friendship. It was a perfect match- him, a hardworking genius with very minimal social skills and you, an almost genius with the concentration skills of a goldfish.

Vernon might be top of the class, a computer nerd with the face of a young Leo DiCaprio but even he was prone to the February blues and having seen how miserable he was during the previous year Valentines Day, especially as he watched his high school ex go gallivanting about with his then-roommate, you were determined to make this year a good memory for both you.

Also, he is the only guy in the university that you trust and is capable of handling you at the height of your drunkenness.

Looking at your watch you realise that only 10 minutes are left before he leaves his sanctuary at the library and goes to his Virtual Reality class. Of course, you knew his schedule, and he knew yours. He also knew that you hated being left on read and yet chose to do the exact same thing when you had texted the previous night about your genius plan.

Wheezing you finally reach the third floor of the big library that hosted all varieties of nerds and unfortunately, couples (they're everywhere this month, ugh). Walking across rows of shelves interspersed with group tables filled with students seeking refuge from the harsh winter cold or simply biding time, you finally reach the semi-private cabins.

Counting down five from the cabin to your right, you march toward the one you knew Vernon would be in. And surely enough, when you peek your head through the partition separating the hooded figure on the chair, with headphones and his laptop, from the rest of the library.

His head is bent as if he was peering into the laptop through the screen and as you move closer to his chair to reprimand him you realise he is sleeping. Gently moving inside the cabin, standing near the table, facing him, you can see that he had slept while coding. It doesn’t even surprise you anymore.

“Hey douchebag”, you say as you tap lightly on his shoulders. He jerks awake and blinks a couple of times before you see the understanding of reality dawn on his face. Removing his headphones, he moves his chair lightly behind and ruffles his fluffy hair.

“What do YOU want?” He sounds like his usual annoyed self. If you didn’t know he truly did like you as a friend you'd be offended.

But you don’t mind the grumpiness one bit as you settle down on the little space on the table smiling lazily as he gets more annoyed by the disturbance to his ecosystem of peace.

“I want a lot of things, for instance, I want a big mansion on top of a hill just to relax in the summer. I want to know why dolphins were made to be sea creatures if they can’t even breathe in water. I want to know why my skin breaks out in hives due to stress ONLY on my left side. I want to know why I get horny when-“ “Please shut the fuck up.”

He cuts you off with his palms reaching up to cover your mouth mid-sentence. You try mumbling against his palm for a second before which he grips tighter effectively stopping any attempt on your side.

He slowly lifts his eyebrows to warn you against trying to babble again and you nod in affirmative to the same. His eyes thin as he considers your sincerity of shutting up and seemingly convinced releases his grip on your face.

“Why do you talk so much all the time!” He growls as he rubs his eyes while settling back on his chair and lets out a yawn. He looks so much like the freshman kid you met and less like the overworked junior that he is.

You shrug nonchalantly (or so you hope).

“Someone needs to balance your entire lack of energy.” He sighs and slumps back on his chair. “Yeah yeah, I’m not arguing with you anymore… I’ve learned it’s best to just agree with you.” You give him a sarcastic smile as you say, “They don’t call you smart without a reason.”

He responds with an incoherent dismissive grunt and after a moment begins to lean forward as he tilts his chair towards you with both his palms placed on either side of your thigh.

Oh.

“No.” That’s all he says, his brown eyes twinkling, mouth pressed into a straight line looking right at your eye. You're sitting on the inclination of the table and he's on the chair looking up at you, yet he looks so intimidating. Not that you are going to let him bother you.

Two can play this game.

You lean forward and meet his face, a good few inches apart, bring out the good old puppy dog eyes and whisper, “What is the ‘no’ for Hansol”. You purposefully use his Korean name knowing he gets annoyed when you say it (Not sure what that is about till now).

You can see him grinding his teeth beneath that calmness and a smirk naturally plays up your face.

“Quit it, y/n. I saw the text and I’m not going to do it. Get lost.” The words fall out of his mouth in a hurry as he continues to grit his teeth together and not lose eye contact.

“Oh, so you did leave me on read by purpose.” You fake a heartache with your left palm pressed on your chest and your right palm on your forehead. He sees you dramatically pretending to have a heart attack and headache at the same time for a good minute before he decides to end this charade. Just as he moves to get up from the chair you hold him down with your hands on his which were at the side of your thighs.

“Pleaseee”, this time the puppy dog eyes come out naturally. He looks at you for a second before sighing.

“Ugh! You’re impossible but alright.”

“Wait really?!” You squeal a little too loud in excitement and earn a dozen “shh”s in response from the general crowd in the library. Looking around apologetically and back at Vernon, you hold his hands in yours (they’re somehow always warm even in the depths of winter).

“Is that a yes?” Cue more puppy eyes. Another sigh. “I don’t have a choice do I!” Grinning wide, you say “Not really.”

Vernon looks to the side as if to consider something important before turning to you, looking down at your still-connected hands, and then your face.

“I’ll do it but it’s gotta be strictly platonic-“ you’re violently shaking your head in positive because of course that doesn’t need to be said.

“-andddd….”, he’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes which stinks of trouble for you. This is the same glint he had when you ended up eating a pizza with ice cream AND a steak.

“And?” You prod, curiosity up to the brim of your head. “I want you to formally ask me… now.” The grin has turned into an almost full bright smile. “What does formally mean?”

“I’ll leave the details to you…” he shrugs and removes his hands from yours and pushes the chair all the way back to the wall and folds his hand.

“I can wait all day”, he sounds way too proud, sitting there in his hoodie and that smirk(I swear he looks like an actual young Leo).

“No, you can’t. You have a class in-“, you make an ordeal of checking your watch, ”-exactly 9 mins.” He shrugs, “This is worth missing it.”

This bitch.

"Are you really cashing in your bet right now?" You ask referring to the advantage he got after you lost your bet in a UNO game six months back.

He just nods casually and stretches on the chair before settling in a lazy and proud position, again.

You groan knowing he won't give up and get down from the table and get on one knee facing him.

“Chwe Hansol Ve-“ “Nope. Redo.”

This actual bitch.

Giving him your best glare you adjust on your knee, clearing your throat, you try again.

“Vernon…”, you look at him for approval and he nods. Ugh.

“… will you be m-“

“Louder, I can’t hear you.” His grin has transformed into one of his signature all-teeth-visible smiles and his entire face is lit up in amusement and joy.

Clearing your throat a little too loudly, you try… for the third time. Humiliation and anger heat up your entire face.

“Vernon, will you be my platonic Valentine?”

Your voice echoes in the near-silent library halls and the minute you’re done at least another 20 “shhs” are once again thrown your way.

People are assholes.

Vernon looks positively thrilled. He is full-on laughing, shoulders jerking, all 32 of his teeth in display and eyes disappearing behind the light of his smile.

If only he didn’t look so wholesome and adorable when he humiliates you.

He straightens up after a couple seconds and rubs his index finger against in chin, in fake thought.

“Hmmmm...”

Oh god, he is planning something... shit

"No."

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alexeeeeeeeeeee · 2 months

Text

Lesson One | Welcome to Devildom!

| 1 | Royal Academy of Diavolo

'Where am I...?'

…

In a dream.

Because there was no other reasonable explanation for the fact that Goh was currently standing dumbfounded in a huge medieval-looking courtroom, being stared at by several men claiming to be demons.

'Demons. Ha.'

Was this a joke? Was he high? Even though he didn’t remember ever taking that kind of substance in his short life, maybe the stifling air of his small room in the university residence had made him dizzy enough to hallucinate things...

''... though we just call it RAD. You're standing inside the assembly hall, the very heart of RAD. This is where we officers of the student council hold our meetings and conduct our business.''

'Officers of... the student council? Is this a school?'

Goh had barely registered one piece of information that ten others popped up and assailed him with nonsense. A demon realm? A prince? What was his name again? Diavolo? One of the other men present explaining to him that Goh had been summoned into the Devildom as an exchange student aiming to complete an exchange program between a Celestial Realm and the human world? A man who actually happened to be Lucifer, Avatar of Pride?

'What the... Wait no, don't come any closer!... Stop talking already... A YEAR!?'

Oh, and now Lucifer (?) was handing him what looked an awful lot like an iPhone − a... D.D.D.? − and was informing him that it would be used to communicate with them and to invoke magic cards via a magic virtual book that would allow him to fight against other demons to strengthen his soul.

'Please, Goh, just wake up already... all this seems way to lucid for me to be reassured that nothing's real.'

...

Looked after by the Avatar of Greed, Lucifer's (?) brother?

Why didn't it sound promising?...

| 2 | The Seven Brothers

''So, what business does a human got with THE Mammon?''

''You'll... apparently be in charge of me from now on.''

''No way! There's nothin' in it for me.''

Great.

So one of the little brothers of Lucifer (?) had already some beef against him because his older brother obliged him to take care of the human.

The three other men in the courtroom were apparently also siblings of Lucifer (?), the gorgeous champagne-haired being the Avatar of Lust, Asmodeus (?); the passive-aggressive blond, the Avatar of Wrath, Satan (?); the giant and hungry redhead, the Avatar of Gluttony, Beelzebub (?).

'Aren’t Lucifer and Satan supposed to be the same being? Also, those Avatar Lords seem to embody the seven deadly sins, which means there must be two other brothers for envy and sloth…'

Goh had a really hard time trying to correctly understand the situation, and he was still not completly sure whether all this circus was reality, but since taking the phone − the D.D.D. −, he had this uncomfortable feeling that he might not be dreaming.

After all, the device felt pretty real to him.

Heavy, even.

As the presence of the five men (?) around him. He didn't feel extremely safe with them near him, even though Diavolo said that the brothers were going to protect him of potential demons disagreeing with the prince who might try something against him to screw things up.

Thus, Goh would have to live with them in the House of Lamentation.

And thus, Goh needed to collect as much informations as he could. Because if this interdimensional exchange program was his new life − for a whole year −, he needed to be prepared.

Had to be prepared.

Otherwise, there was a possibility that he could never be able to return to his normal life.

And maybe that the courtroom door presently opening would be one of the first danger that he would need to be aware of.

| 3 | Mammon, Avatar of Greed

Goh was so screwed.

He was definitely not dreaming.

The rush of fear that he felt as Mammon approched him and grabbed his shirt before ordering to give him all his money was way to real to only be a construction of his imagination.

Goh tried hard not to show any emotion, like he'd been doing since he'd become aware of his surroundings, as the tan-skinned and silver-haired demon was threatening to eat him right in front of his face, but it was a bit difficult when a fiery blue-green gaze and a hot breath were assailing him.

He got even more convinced that all what was happening was reality when Lucifer hit Mammon hard enough to let go and to cause him and the human he has been holding to stumble a few steps from the shock of the impact.

At this, Goh couldn't help but surreptitiously widen his eyes, momentarily stunned by the raw strength the demon was capable of displaying.

'I'm going to die. Protected? Hell, those brothers will be the cause of my death!'

Even though he had just been kind of attack − technically, the demon hadn’t touch him −, the human felt a little confused when Satan revealed that Mammon really only cared about the money of someone, not the someone in question, because the bad feeling that was swarming tirelessly in the depths of his gut seemed to lighten a little when Goh's shaken mind had witnessed Mammon's reaction to Asmodeus' derogatory remark : the Avatar of Greed hadn't respond by making use of this threatening aura that Lucifer and Satan had released a little earlier when the latter was presented.

Even though the silver-haired demon obviously cared a lot about money − Satan called it ''grimm'', right? −, the human was able to perceive that he was also capable of restraint.

From the way Mammon's brothers − minus Beelzebub − insulted him without flinching, Goh deduced that this was the usual way of treating the second eldest.

Second eldest who, if one followed a logic of power scale, must have been the second strongest of the siblings, just after Lucifer.

At second glance, Mammon appeared to be a free spirit, thus explaining why he didn't look eager to personally take care of Goh during his stay in the Devildom, but maybe he was really not the worst protector that could be.

'I guess he looks more reasonable and sincere than Satan, Asmodeus or Lucifer... As for Beelzebub, I think that if I don't touch his food, he should leave me alone. Maybe I can survive this... I just have to not get involved in things that don't concern me and I should be fine. I think... I hope.'

''Alright, human, listen up. As much as I don't want to look after you, I've got no choice. So in return, you better make sure you don't cause me any trouble, got it?''

A bit calmer than five minutes ago, Goh took a few seconds to size up his interlocutor, the demon's blue-green eyes glinting mostly with annoyance and resignation, but also with a spark that he could describe as curiosity.

Relaxing his imperturbable expression a little, Goh nodded, thus sealing their future collaboration.

| 4 | Good Luck

''Humans, angels, demons, I imagine a universe where each accepts the other. Where we are brought together as friends. This is my dream, and I'm asking you to be the foundation for it.''

'Talking about an utopia...'

It wasn't like Goh was mad at them for kidnapping him without any warning only to throw him into this whole new and dangerous world, no : he was just internally furious and worried and so, so lost.

He was just a random university student, with common short and messy brown hair and even more common chocolate brown eyes. He wasn't tall, nor was he small, he wasn't particularly fit − just the right healthy shape to make his body work.

He was a nobody amongst nobodies.

Not even thirty minutes ago, he had been in his campus dorm, reading an anthropology book while trying to not suffocate from the late summer heat − nothing that was most normal and banal in his eyes.

But now...

The human let out a soft, tired sigh, a certain weight hunching his shoulders forward as Mammon guided him out of the room.

Even when he was little, Hugo Yatsurugi had never been the type of boy who believed in fairy tales or monsters under the bed. No, he had always been a down-to-earth, very curious child.

The mysteries of the world had fascinated him for a long time now, and it was human beings that had particularly caught his attention.

After all, what a strange creature this abstract life form was. Coming from the hominid family, humans had progressed from primate to the modern individual that they now boast of having reached in approximately seven million years. A lot of work and transformations to proclaim themselves master of the Earth.

Younger, the brunette had always wondered how the human mind developed and how it was really made. It was his curiosity about psychology and anthropological behavior that led him to study history and observe people. This was how he discovered his ''passion''.

Analyze, decode, then try to help if he could.

Neither Goh nor those around him understood why he had fallen for such a hobby. After all, as a kid, he hadn't been the most sociable of the classes he had been through, content to stay away.

But he seemed to always have had a weak spot for human beings in general. Even though the young man knew full well that the world he lived in was doomed to destruction because of human impetuosity and stupidity, he wanted to be able to relieve his species of the scourge with which it had burdened itself.

As a human himself, Goh had come to believe that nothing and no one could dethrone the superpredator that they were. Obviously, he'd been wrong all along. Angels and demons now had to be added to the balance.

And this reversal of forces changed absolutely everything.

Especially for someone as realist as Goh.

As the human was crossing a paved street, he took advantage of the fact that Mammon was walking a few steps ahead grumbling under his breath, to allow genuine surprise to appear on his face when a bracelet adorned with a pendant representing Capricorn came to life with a will of his own and wanted to follow him, simply held back by the turnstile on which it was attached.

When the brunette was suddenly called − summoned? − to the council room of RAD, he felt immensely scared and confused, thinking he was going crazy.

Now, he just felt concerned, anxious.

And the fact that he only felt like that not even an hour after this whole traumatic experience and discovery destabilised him even more.

Taking his eyes off the rustic decor of the shops and restaurants − taverns? − of the Devildom, Goh let his blunt gaze land on the demon before him and frowned softly as his heart skipped an uneasy beat.

'Why does it feel like a... déjà-vu?'

| 5 | The House of Lamentation

Goh expected that the residence of the seven brothers would be able to accommodate him and them, but he didn't think that the house would actually be a mansion.

Huge, noble and austere, the old building seemed to have two floors, although the human managed to distinguish a third which must served as an attic. Several lights were on, informing the brunette of the presence of someone inside. Probably the two brothers who had not been present during the small welcome assembly.

''That rotten bastard... Does he really think he can scare me into doin' whatever he wants?''

'Ah, so he was complaining all along...'

Mammon suddenly turned around, almost making the young man who was following him trip.

''Just so we're clear... it's not like I can't say no to Lucifer, okay? I only agreed to babysit you because, um... Well you know, because... uh...''

'Because...?'

''Anyway, it doesn't matter! Just don't go thinking that I'm scared of Lucifer or anything! Because I'm not!''

''I know.''

It wasn't the first time the student had faced people like the Avatar of Greed, those who turned a blind eye and said the complete opposite of what they thought to keep face. The best way to ensure that a conversation went well with this type of person was to go their way.

Delighted that their interlocutor was of the same opinion, they would automatically be more at ease.

''... Oh. Okay then, as long as we've got that straight.''

Goh was treated to a discreet glance that he could have missed if he hadn't been so attentive and observant by nature. Just after, Mammon turned around and pulled down the handle of the large double doors.

''... Ugh, whatever. Let's move on.''

An imperceptible smile stretched Goh's lips for the first time since he was in the Devildom. He was happy to have managed to understand part of the behavior of his protector in such a short time.

It could be useful to him later.

Following the demon and leaving the darkness of the night for the light of the residence, astonishment quickly took place on the young man's face as the entrance hall presented itself to him.

Listening absently to Mammon while detailing the place, he learned that the House of Lamentation was actually a dormitory reserved for members of the student council − minus Diavolo, who had his own castle − and that others like it existed all around RAD. From what the human understood, the student council acted as a sort of Congress.

As to whether the power of Diavolo and the brothers extended beyond the academy, the brunette suspected that it was the case, if only with the title of crown prince of Diavolo.

'Which means that these guys are really big shots here...'

''Hey, don't just stand there with you jaw open. Hurry up, or I'm gonna leave ya behind.''

The student noticed with surprise that his inspection of the entrance hall had absorbed him more than he would have expected, Mammon having had time to start taking the corridor which led to the rest of the ground floor.

It's while joining him at a small trot that Goh's chocolate eyes were attracted by a bulletin board where several sheets of part-time job offers were pinned.

''If there's something you wanna ask me, you'd best do it now.''

''What are your hobbies?''

The young man wanted to see if the question would destabilize him. Testing his reactions was a good way to establish the limits that should not be crossed to avoid really annoying him by accident. In addition, it would allow him to better understand the character who would serve as his bodyguard for the coming year.

''Hobbies? Pff, I don't have any... Wait, how about this : I like taking it easy, laughing, and having fun! That's my hobby! Eh, though I guess that's more like a 'lifestyle' than a hobby, huh?''

Maybe it was because of his cooperative reactions, but the human didn't expected the tan-skinned demon to be this easy to talk to.

At first glance, the brunette only saw the snappish character of the Avatar Lord − the fact that his first gesture was to grab him by the collar perhaps had something to do with it −, but when Mammon appeared comfortable in a situation, it seemed easier for him to express his true feelings.

''Anyway, I was actually asking if you had questions about life here at the dorm. I don't get why you wanna talk about me...''

'I don't know when I'll be able to know more about you, or if I'll be able to. I can learn about the Devildom whenever I want.'

''But I'm gonna give you a piece of advice, so listen up.''

The silver-haired stopped moving forward and Goh had all the difficulty in the world to stop to avoid hitting him. His chocolate irises were suddenly anchored in the blue-green eyes of his interlocutor and the serious and harsh look that the demon gave him made him swallow in spite of himself.

Their involuntary proximity already made him insecure, and the fact that Mammon began to tap his chest with his index finger, as one did when one wanted to threaten someone, did not help to calm his growing anxiety.

''If you wanna survive even a day here in the Devildom, you'd better listen real close to what I'm about to say. If it ever looks like a demon is about to attack you... run away.''

Lowering his arm, the Avatar of Greed turned again to resume walking, apparently not noticing the stress he had just put the human through.

''Either that, or die.''

Slightly frowning, the brunette couldn't help but think that this advice was worth gold.

Of course, here, he was just a weak human at the mercy of an entire country filled with seemingly man-eating demons.

No way he would do otherwise.

''How about this? I vote for you to die, Mammon.''

'... Huh?'

| 6 | Leviathan, Avatar of Envy

COMING SOON...

| 7 | The Tale of the Seven Lords

COMING SOON...

__________________ 🕯 __________________

#obey me #obey me devildom #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #original character #season 1

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tenebraevesper · 5 months

Text

Tales From The Pizzaplex Story Preview (Five Nights at Freddy's: Obsolete)

As I had announced in my previous post, I will be adapting certain stories from Tales From The Pizzaplex, and I had decided to write out the previews for each story. As I had said before, the stories won't be adapted word-for-word, but will be referenced to an extent or have elements from them picked out and arranged to fit better The Untold Story canon.

Note, the previews are not listed in chronological order.

#1: Lally's Game: Story #3: Under Construction

When Fazbear Entertainment attempts to attract new patrons with their AR Dome attraction, only to disappoint them by keeping it ''Under Construction'' for far longer than it should be. Sam decides to investigate the issue, only to learn that someone is already inside the AR Dome.

#2: Happs: Story #1: Help Wanted

When Matt brings up the existence of the Five Nights at Freddy's video games and their lore, everyone begins to question how a random game developer would have access to such information.

#2: Happs: Story #2: HAPPS

Happs, a new animatronic built to assist the Daycare Attendant, ends up seemingly missing somewhere within the inside playground. When Sam and Springtrap decide to find him, they are met with a grisly discovery.

#3: Somniphobia: Story #2: Pressure

After finding a spare springlock suit at the Urban Legends Role Play Auditorium, Springtrap decides to investigate the matter. His investigation leads him to a suspicious Pizzaplex employee who seems to have a concerning interest in the children that visit the attraction.

#4: Submechanophobia: Story #2: Animatronic Apocalypse

Sam and Matt get invited to the Fazbear Fan Club, a club in their high school whose members are dedicated to solve the mysterious and complex lore behind the Five Nights at Freddy's video games. While Sam refuses, Matt accepts, curious about their activities. What starts as a fun game suddenly comes to a grim conclusion when some club members want to have a real FNaF experience.

#5: The Bobbiedots Conclusion: Story #1: GGY

When Sammy comes across several arcades that have an unusually high score, he decides to investigate the player behind those scores, GGY. However, as Sammy, Michael and Elizabeth attempt to learn more about GGY, they make a very disturbing discovery. Who is GGY and why does everyone involved with him disappear without a trace?

#5: The Bobbiedots Conclusion: Story #2: The Storyteller

When Fazbear Entertainment decides to take shortcuts with its creative development by using an artificial intelligence, The Storyteller, as a new form of entertainment, Vanessa and Glitchtrap take advantage of the new system set up gain control over the whole Mega Pizzaplex.

#6: Nexie: Story #1: Nexie

When a series of glitches almost causes a full shutdown of the Mega Pizzaplex, Sam is forced to work overtime to ensure that the animatronics work properly. However, when she discovers that someone has been sneaking around the Buddytronics Boutique, the situation quickly becomes a race to save a little girl from her Buddytronic friend.

#6: Nexie: Story #2: Drowning

One should not dwell in the virtual reality for too long, or else they might become permanently trapped. When Michael loses sight of his siblings during a game of hide-and-seek, he comes across a VR attraction that has already claimed one victim. Will he become the next one?

#6: Nexie: Story #3: The Mimic

Sam and Matt learn that Hurricane is once again plagued by a string of mysterious murders, with the murderer preferring to tear apart its victim's limbs and hiding its identity inside mascot costumes. At the same time, Springtrap comes across an old man, Edwin Murray, who seeks to redemption for the mistakes he committed in the past, unaware of the connection he might have with the former co-owner of the Fazbear Franchise.

#7: Tiger Rock: Story #1: Tiger Rock

Relieved to see that The Storyteller being taken down, but also aware of the possible damages, Sam attempts to focus on her work, when another accident involving a white tiger with a green and blue eye inside the VR booth happens. Fearing that Glitchtrap has already spread his influence, Sam goes on to confront the animatronic known as Tiger Rock.

#7: Tiger Rock: Story #2: The Monty Within

After being convinced by her friend Cassie to go on another date, Emma picks the Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex, her daughter's workplace. During a game of Fazcade Tag-Team, her date starts acting erratically, with Emma ending it then and there. However, she soon finds herself dealing with stalker who is obsessed with her and has a familiar red mohawk hairstyle.

#8: B7-2: Story #2: Alone Together

Sam has never minded her involvement with the supernatural, not even when she had to deal with the children from the infamous Missing Children Incident. However, it is a completely different matter when the spirit in question doesn't even know that he is dead. Even after offering him her help, things don't go as planned. Also, what are those entities that are stalking the corridors of the Pizzaplex?

#8: B7-2: Story #3 Dittophobia

Hell is not a place, but a state of mind and varies from person to person. For Elizabeth, it is her death at Circus Baby's hands and desire to make her father proud. For Sammy, it is his battle with the Nightmare Animatronics and death within Fredbear's jaws. For Michael, it is the destruction of his family and the guilt he carried for years. For William, it is the inevitable confrontation with himself and the repetition of his past mistakes. When they realize that the past is repeating itself, they are forced to make a stand.

Still, this Hell claims another victim - Sam, who refuses to be abandoned again.

Tales From The Pizzaplex: The Mimic Epilogues #1-8

Ricky's Wonder Shack had been standing abandoned for months, so naturally, it becomes a place of interest of a group of teenagers who want to investigate it. Unfortunately for them, the abandoned restaurant already has a resident, who still needs to complete the task he had been given:

''Break off limbs and heads. Pile them up. Easy peasy. Got it.''

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

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trekkingaroundasgard · 7 months

Text

A Virtual World (Clint Barton x Reader)

Summary: Out on a mission, the reader is ‘unplugged’ too soon and ends up injured. Prompt: “how many fingers am I holding up?”

Gender: Neutral (nickname: Neo)

Tags: powered!reader, enhanced!reader, whump, injury, canon typical violence, established friendship/relationship (can be read either way)

Words: 1.3k

Note: I mean to post this on day 1 but didn’t get around to it. Anyway, this was requested by the lovely @captainsophiestark and I hope you enjoy it!

“How we doing, Neo?”

Clint’s words warbled in your ear, distant and distorted as he appealed to the small part of your conscience still tethered to your physical body. This deep in code, you could no longer call that plane of existence the ‘real world’. Here, now, you were a part of the digital, uploaded and integrated into the core of the system. You’d always hear when Clint called, though, whether you were separated by a table, continents or an entire virtual reality. How could you not when it was him?

Stretching your senses out, you touched the piece of code which controlled the security cameras. It was seconds that you didn’t necessarily have but… Well. There was no choice, really. The mission was important, of course it was. You wouldn’t be in the middle of a war-zone stealing back stolen missile launch codes if you didn’t believe in the cause, if you weren’t willing to die for it. But you hadn’t gone to die and you certainly wouldn’t let your partner meet that same fate if you could help it.

The lines of code warped, small in places to to start before suddenly taking on an entirely new shape. The gaps between ones and zeroes and all manner of other complex code grew wider, the emptiness giving way to something more solid. Where you’d been alone in the darkness before you were now surrounded by five figures.

Little more than visual manifestations of input data, your brain interpreting the digital blueprints in the same way a display monitor might, you knew that they could not harm you. It didn’t stop you from ducking away from a fast and heavy blow. Behind you, another figure stumbled away – the real target of their attack, a black and blurry shape, unmistakably Clint Barton.

He fought back hard. Each strike was carefully placed, controlled so to conserve energy, but they were herding him into a corner. Without backup, for all his skills, Clint wouldn’t stand a chance. Even with you physically there his odds wouldn’t have changed – hand to hand had never been your strong suit – but you had other, more useful talents.

You’d felt it the moment you had tuned in to the security cameras: a secondary wavelength interfering with the CCTV signal. Five connected nodes on the same frequency, an encrypted wavelength which rose and fell like a breath of tainted air on your peripheral. You reached for it, the warning centres of your brain lighting up as you made the connection. Wasting no time, you pushed a surge of power into the system and snapped your conscience back before the feedback loop could fry your processor.

The shadowy forms doubled over in pain, clutching their skull against the high pitched screaming in their ears. It lasted only a few seconds but it gave Clint the opening he needed, precious moments to retake control. He took the grunts down before they even realised it was happening.

“Stay focused, Neo. Get those codes.” A breath, then Clint added quietly, “But thanks.”

You’d have smiled if you had a body to control.

Spiralling deeper downwards, the source code became more and more complex. You’d never seen anything quite like it. Digital landmines limited your path, warring subroutines from a hundred different programmes all forced to work together making it difficult to find a clear route through the files you needed.

Even deeper still, the system began to push back. Firewalls weren’t hot – you were so far removed from your physical body that all concept of sensations like heat, ice and gentleness had vanished – but the strain on your mind was unimaginable. The effort to keep digging down was almost too much.

You saw it in numbers, the piercing pain your body was enduring. The strain between your biological nerves and internal wiring, the overwhelming pressure behind your eyes. You couldn’t feel it, couldn’t recall what it felt like to be bound by a physical form, much less one in pain, and yet you knew. You knew it was agony.

Time was running out.

The data packet was close. You could see it on the horizon – or whatever digital equivalent existed there. Between it and you stood a mountain of code designed to fight back, to stop you from accessing those codes. But you were close, so close that you could practically feel it. Your synapses buzzed in anticipation, clearing space, preparing to eject you from this reality as soon as the transfer had finished.

Ultimately, the defences were strong but you were stronger.

The code parted to reveal a door and you reached for the handle, ready for whatever might be on the other side. You could practically feel it underhand (though neither the knob nor your hand had and physical substance). The door was heavy and you leaned on it with all your might, forcing it ajar.

As the light from inside began to spill out, suddenly, everything went dark.

---

All networks disconnected. No external systems found. Internal systems crashed. Troubleshooting. Rebooting.

Time elapsed: 1 hour 03 minutes.

External system located. Identified. Quinjet. Faulty pathway. Unable to access Quinjet. Biological system identified. Accessing.

Access denied. Rebooting.

Time elapsed: 2 hours 08 minutes.

Biological system identified. Accessing.

Error. 3 critical biological pathways corrupted.

Seek assistance. All other systems accessed.

---

Pressure. Heat. A clammy hand on yours, squeezing it tightly.

You tried to snatch it back but your body was too slow, to weak.

“Hey, hey.”

The sound waves hit your ear drum, unwelcome input. Too loud. Too much. Your implant attempted to adjust the levels but it only made it worse. At least, until you came round enough to recognise the source of the words. Clint. Suddenly they weren’t so unwelcome.

“It’s me, Neo. You’re alright. Look at me.”

“Can’t…” you croaked, the admission like sandpaper in your throat.

Firm but gentle fingers touched your chin, lifting your face and turning you towards him.

“Hey,” he said again with the hint of a smile. “Focus for a second. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Clint…”

“Come on. How many?”

“I don’t know!” you hissed, finally able to snatch your hand back. However, the moment you did, you immediately regretted it. Without the grounding warmth of his palm against yours, without those strong fingers clutching yours, you were adrift. Lost in the darkness, drifting in the place were cache went to be wiped.

Clint hesitantly took your hand again and this time you didn’t pull away. The other cupping your cheek, he asked, “What’s happening? You forget how to count or something?”

“I can’t open my eyes.”

“They’re already open, Neo,” he whispered. “You’re looking right at me.”

“Clint…”

“You’re gonna be alright.”

You felt him begin to shift, panic rising in the back of your throat. As quickly as it came, though, Clint’s strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. “Hey. I’m here. It’s alright. We’ll get you back to the Compound and they’ll rewire your implant so you can see again. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“What happened at the base, Clint?”

He swallowed, guilt dripping from every word. “One of the bastards got away. Slipped right by me. Didn’t catch him until it was almost too late. He yanked you away from the terminal before you could disconnect properly and… You were out cold for hours. I thought I’d lost you.”

Leaning back into him, you rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. Smell was apparently not one of the 3 critical pathways fried by your implant. Turning your face into his neck, you muttered, “It’s not your fault.”

“Sure feels like it.”

You pinched his side, or at least as rough an approximation as you could make. “Stop it. You said it yourself. They’ll fix this. Everything’s gonna be ok. Just… don’t leave me until it is?”

“I’ve got you, Neo. Always. For as long as you need.”

#clint barton x reader #whumptober #Clint Barton & reader #whumptober 2023 #nicola writes #gender neutral #startrekkingaroundasgard

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thesinglesjukebox · 2 months

Text

PORTER ROBINSON - "CHEERLEADER"

youtube

April Fool's Day is over, now time for some SINCERITY...

[5.92]

Taylor Alatorre: This song sounds embarrassing. It sounds excessive. It sounds like something you might regret putting into the world five seconds after hitting "publish." It sounds, in other words, like high school. Porter Robinson's post-brostep career has been an extended treatise on escapism -- from the appealingly plaintive paracosms of 2014's Worlds to the soothing self-inventory of 2021's Nurture, with his Virtual Self side project managing to be both esoteric and stupidly self-explanatory. He's crafted a series of immersive alternatives to analog messiness, allowing the listener to check out of the everyday and place themselves for a moment in a softer-edged realm, with more explicable rules and a more poetic set of problems. "Cheerleader," though, offers the listener no assistance in either sidestepping or reconfiguring the uncomfortable reality into which they were born; music video aside, it's not really a song about fanbases gone wild either. Instead it's about the girl in your school's Anime Club who gave out her deviantART username before her phone number and taught you against your will what the word yaoi meant. The fujoshi representation, besides filling a glaring gap in the TSJ search index, makes it clear that this is about a real person and not an avatar, and it's that awkward flesh-and-blood realness which is precisely at issue here. Maybe she's as real as him, and maybe he couldn't live with that. The perspective of a boy who is unused to being the object of obsession is an under-explored one in music, probably because it's very hard to land it within the narrow range of acceptable loserdom. But Porter sticks the landing by enveloping us fully within the loser's headspace, where both his emo-inflected chagrin and his fragmented memories of the girl's "cheering" are enshrouded by a waterfall of blown-out Obama-era detritus. If you ever wondered what a big room house remix of Two Door Cinema Club might've sounded like, or Oracular Spectacular if it had debuted on Beatport, here's your answer. Other seemingly out-of-place additions -- the bitpop cowbell, the Punk Goes Acoustic bridge, the hilariously overwrought drumroll that becomes less so the second time around -- fit right into this 1080p capture of late adolescent bag-fumbling. Taken together, they convey a mismatch in interests and hobbies that may have seemed like a deal breaker at the time, but in hindsight was just another excuse to avoid vulnerability. Perhaps I only arrived at this gonzo interpretation because the 4chan-core single artwork serves as a kind of shibboleth for these things. If that's the case, then I plead guilty: I ate the apple. [10]

Oliver Maier: "We have Anamanaguchi at home." [6]

Hannah Jocelyn: I loved Porter Robinson's Nurture for its unapologetic sincerity, a balm when emerging back into the world post-lockdown. I miss that early hopefulness as the years have gone on; even now, it's hard for me to hear "Unfold" without being close to tears. "Cheerleader" is a frustrating detour, with inane lyrics about yandere fujoshis fetishizing Robinson -- you know you're doing nothing new when the Nostalgia Critic beat you to it, and Robinson hardly sells the can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em message better. Nurture, for better or worse, incorporated the pitch-shifting vocals of hyperpop into EDM (to the point where a trans woman musician I know grew frustrated with Nurture's acclaim for doing what acts like Katie Dey had done for years, regardless of how Robinson himself identifies.) That's worth acknowledging, especially as this attempts to go right to the source: 3OH!3 and Metro Station come to mind. Except there’s none of the polish that makes those songs work despite themselves -- What's with that tinny hi-hat? Where's the low end on the guitar? Listen to "Shake It"; that song from 2007 sounds better than this one from 2024. It's not enough to replicate the aesthetics; for some ungodly reason, Robinson decided it must sound like it's coming from a Hot Topic speaker too. [4]

Claire Biddles: We have "Shake It" by Metro Station at home. [4]

Tim de Reuse: I admire the chutzpah to take a stylistic hairpin turn like this. And I appreciate the ability to do that while retaining the crystal-clear boom-bap production chops that made you a breakout sensation in the first place. And I appreciate how it makes its power-pop references clear without sticking to them too desperately. And I appreciate the sheer craft; birds fly, rocks sink, Porter Robinson writes synth hooks that wrap around your mind and squeeze tight. And I appreciate the line about getting drawn kissing other guys. But there's a clean and edgeless quality here, a sterile expression of his EDM roots, that directly contradicts his attempts at a heartbreaking singalong. Nowhere does his voice crack with raw emotion; nowhere does it seem even possible that his voice might crack with raw emotion. [5]

Kayla Beardslee: Porter Robinson’s doing anime OSTs now? Good for him. [7]

Leah Isobel: I see this fitting into a whole universe of PS1/Nintendo DS aesthetic indie games, YouTube video essays about old anime, trans girls with Neocities websites, indie pop sung by vocaloids. I could call it hyperpop -- not in the sense of overdriven chaos, but in the sense of the hyperlink. (HTML revival would be more accurate.) As such, it feels a little too precise, its scruffiness deployed too purposefully; I feel like this stuff works best when the self is obscured, and Porter is too big of a star to let that happen. But that also means the chorus is fucking massive, so I can't complain too much. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: The soft, limply placed drums in the song for once are not the sabotaging element in this song. The lithe, acoustic guitar bridge is even nicely played. The guitar riff, doubled by the synth, is the true arrow to the heart of this song. Porter is processed to hell and back, refusing to give over his composition to a more present, entertaining vocalist, but that riff is so grating and stiff that when it first arrives, sliding up as the culmination of the slowly hopping pre-chorus, it stops the song from progressing any further, simply pushing Porter into the background and leaving his Melodyned voice slack below it, struggling to be heard. Now, does this stop me from screaming that chorus in my head? Of course not. It's not fair I have to keep hearing this grating riff every time, though. [6]

Ian Mathers: God, I love that recurring, overdriven synth sound that kicks in on the chorus. If anything I wish it was more all-enveloping when it hits (yes, like shoegaze, yes, I'm predicable). There's lots of other interesting things going on here, but I can't quite get over that visceral rush enough to figure out my response to it all. Hit the whoosh button again, Porter! [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Not nearly dumb enough for me to enjoy its shtick. [3]

Isabel Cole: This sounds like a One Direction album track in a universe where after they got kicked off The X Factor, Simon Cowell realized he could save so much money by replacing everyone but Liam with robots, only when they got into the studio there was some kind of malfunction and Zayn-bot started screeching uncontrollably and Niall-bot fell on his side crackling horribly with static while Harry-bot and Louis-bot took turns punching each other until they were dented beyond recognition, and that's why it sounds like how it sounds. (Liam didn't notice anything amiss, obviously; have you met him?) [4]

Will Adams: At the heart of Nurture was its... well, heart. On that record, Porter Robinson wore his on his sleeve, crooning lines like "I'll be alive next year / I can make something good" without a hint of irony. On "Cheerleader," he surprisingly lets a bit of cynicism slip in. It's not a leap to see how producing such earnest, sincere art would naturally invite fans to form parasocial relationships, to draw fan art but not know where to "draw the line," to develop a near-fatalistic expectation of commitment. But between each of those details is a generous counterpoint, where Porter wonders if he benefits just as much from these feelings. It creates a fascinating tension, expressed best by the chorus: "IT'S NOT FAAAAIIIRRRRRR!", stretched over a fizzy, tightly-wound power-pop arrangement complete with a skyscraping synth line. Porter just can't help himself. We've all got feelings; why not scream them to the rafters? [8]

Katherine St. Asaph: Porter Robinson's brand of earnestness makes my heart feel burnt or dead. [5]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#porter robinson #music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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mess-with-a-purpose · 2 years

Text

Lovable Genius

Pairing: Chris Knight x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: The power problem is leaving Chris feeling frustrated but you decide to help even with your limited science expertise. You ramble about a Ray Bradbury short story to spark some inspiration. Cuteness ensues along with first time “I love yous.”

Warnings: none; just chris being adorkable and nerdy

You had curled yourself up on Chris’ unmade bed with a Jordan Cochran original makeshift lap desk held over your thighs. A well-loved copy of Ray Bradbury’s The Illustrated Man sat next to a scribble-heavy notebook. Tonight’s focus was “The Veldt” and your analysis was smeared across the page with trails of blue as your thoughts had come quicker than the ink could dry. Chris perched at his desk, his textbooks and papers sprawled out in his own organized mayhem. Part of that mayhem also included empty Coke cans, chocolate wrappers, and a coffee ring he’d left over intricate notes for a particular transfusion equation that you asked him to explain just to see his face gloss over with concentration.

This was how the pair of you preferred to work: sharing the space to offer emotional support, though neither could complete the other’s task. People joke that this is what makes you so perfect for each other. The cliche of “opposites attract” is a plague on your relationship without a speck of irony. The truth is, you wish you could understand Chris’ work. Understand all the lingo with fancy equations to pair with it, the weird symbols that coincide with the numbers and letters. Science for you was homemade slime chucked across high school lab tables or food models of cells that became toothpick-spiked clumps of cake, frosting, and jolly ranchers. Chris knows this but he also knows you love seeing him talk about his passions.

“But I can’t synthesize the excited bromide to that degree, not without–” Chris sighed, rubbing his palms over his exhausted face, leaning back in his chair with a frustrated groan as he closed his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel slightly sorry for your eccentric dork in all his foiled glory. Five megawatts was an absolute bitch.

Concentration interrupted for good reason, you stop chewing your pen cap to sneak a glance at Chris. Extending your leg for a brief stretch, you push your foot against his swivel chair to rock him for a moment.

“Hey, genius, would you be prepared if virtual reality took over our perception of life as we know it?” You ask softly, pen cap still between your lips as you jot down a quick note and further smear words across the page. The side of your palm is sporting a new blue tinge.

No response. Another foot rock. “Hey, hot stuff,” still nothing. The pen drops from your lips and becomes an impromptu bookmark as you mimic your boyfriend’s sigh. God damn it, he knew exactly what he was doing, the dick.

You roll your eyes, understanding his subliminal message tucked into his demeanor. You didn’t want to cave but you knew it would help. Taking another second to let him stew, you quickly cook up a tactic to scratch that big-ass brain of his.

God damn you, Chris Knight.

One more foot rock and you let out a playful gasp. “Oh my god, babe, my boob is out!” Chris’ eyes excitedly open with a slight dusting of lust and his shit-eating grin. His expression almost immediately stiffens as you giggle.

“Wow, one of the top ten minds in the country and you still can’t figure out when I’m bluffing?” You chuckle as you rest your foot on the arm of his chair.

Chris switches to his playful smirk. “One day, baby. One day you’ll actually mean it,” his fingers ghost over your toes, earning him a squeal from you as you toss your book at him to foil his sneak attack. It lands in his lap, plopping open as the pen slips to the ground. Your genius takes a glance at the page, the sci-fi material catching his golden retriever attention. You settle back against the wall, your foot resting on the chair and Chris’ hand falling effortlessly to stroke your leg as he skims the contents.

“You’d really like that story, Genius.”

“Oh yeah? Why? Does it just say some random formulas here and there with some bozo trying to solve some obscure problem?”

“Isn’t that the basis of what you do, anyway? Just in a way oversimplified nutshell?” you giggle, grabbing your notebook to flip to your analysis once again.

Chris pauses, still staring at the page. “There’s such thing as a non-simplified nutshell?” his face morphs into a dorky and clueless expression. God, you love that he can’t understand sarcasm at the best of times.

You let out a hearty laugh and point to the book with the pen. “Can I see that for a second, please?” you motion to the book, fingers tucking between the pages of the short story captivating your curiosity. Your eyes observe him delicately for a moment. “You never did answer my question, Genius.”

Chris nestles back into his chair while his fingers drum along your leg. His forehead creased with contemplation, an unusual look for him. “Virtual reality? I thought you already gave me that whole simulation conspiracy,” you open your mouth, prepared to validate yourself but Chris is a step ahead. “which I’m not saying is totally ruled out, but when you look at the probability–”

“It isn’t zero! You said so yourself!”

“Well no, but–” And there it is.

“Wonderful, another thing to ward people off having kids; not only can your spawn have the emotional capacity of a pinhead but you better look out for when they trap you in a fake safari to be eaten by very real lions if you piss them off!” The last page shoved its way to Chris, blue-stained fingers guiding him to the final paragraph of the parents’ doom as if providing “Exhibit A” in evidence.

You click your tongue, sighing as the last line bores itself into your head. “But, they say it’s only Bradbury’s commentary on our technology dependence,” your eyes glaze over, lines of literary analysis flood your subconscious just waiting to be ranted out.

Suddenly, your throat feels dry and you consider your follow-up question. Chris stares back at his power problem like a parent scolding a taunting child. “Genius?” a shift in his eyes signals he’s attentive. You continue. “What exactly is a five-megawatt laser consistently used for? I mean, that shit’s gotta be powerful–”

Another frustrated sigh. “Well, I can’t really worry about it until I actually finish the damn thing,” thoughtful fingers graze your shin as he resubmerges into endless strings of numbers and letters, back into a foreign land.

“Genius, you said something about bromide,” you felt way out of your wheelhouse, but your voice was somewhat confident. This wasn’t classroom slime or literal cake cells yet you felt a strange familiarity.

“Mhmm,” Chris tucked his pencil behind his ear while flipping through textbooks.

“Well, you mentioned a few days ago that you can’t keep the laser consistent with the wattage. Why is that?” Adjusting yourself on the bed, you put your book aside and quickly remind him to explain in simple terms, like a five-year-old.

Clearing his throat, Chris flips to the original formula hidden beneath what seems like layers of chicken scratch. “When mommy bromide and daddy argon love each other very much–”

He dodges as a pillow smacks his smug smile. “Don’t be a dick, Genius.”

“Fine, I can try out being a vagina. Think I’ve got a pretty good mock-up right here...” his eyes flicker, that stupid, dork smile sticking around.

Gathering ammo with devious focus, you gear up with the book. “This'll be for your head.”

“Alright, alright,” arms up in playful surrender, he pulls the formula sheet to the front. “The bromide is what goes into the argon matrix to create the energy for the laser via chemical reaction–”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“Our problem is the bromide is not at a high enough state of excitement to maintain a consistent wattage,” his fingers lead you around the page, certain combinations of letters look familiar, “but I can’t figure out how exactly to keep it in a consistently excited stage that doesn’t defy all levels of physics.”

Scrunched in concentration, you provide your limited insight. “Well, if it’s consistency that you need…” you glance back at the rest of the formula, still not making much sense of it but using Chris’ lesson to put certain pieces together.

“I remember in high school science when we learn about the properties of matter… something about stability in relation to chemical potential.”

“The basics.”

“For you, sure, but remember,” you point to your scientific dumbass for good measure. “This is me we’re talking about here.”

Chris nods, his expression almost mocking but you let it slide before continuing. “I remember hearing you say something about bromide needing a certain level of excitement to maintain that level of energy.”

Another nod.

“Well, I’m sure you may have already thought of this before but, given that solids have more chemical potential and stability, is it even possible to do something like, I don’t know, freeze it?” As soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, you backtrack. “Wait, is bromide actually a liquid to begin with?”

A new expression washes over Chris’ face. It wasn’t contemplation, concentration, or frustration. This was… new. He doesn’t answer either question, his newfound expression captivating your concern. He seemed not angry? Was he delighted? A spark came behind his eyes that you recognized; it was the same spark that always accompanied his mischievous nature from the impromptu ice rink to sabotaging Kent’s dorm with his own car. The familiarity came as a comfort while you both processed the moment.

“Genius?” you break the silence only to be met with a burst of enthusiastic energy from your manic boyfriend.

“Ah-haha!” Chris’ face mirrors that of a jester absolutely beside himself. You let out a squeal as his body catapults you back onto the bed, kisses raining across your face.

“Genius, what –”

“YOU are the genius, you precious bookworm!” another kiss on your cheek paired with a hearty laugh. “HA-HA!”

Chris slows himself, panting as he finds your eyes. Flashes of memories pile into one another: laughing on the green, reading him poetry to talk out your analysis, your confused look as he explains the laser, him propping up your book as you fall asleep in his arms, you giving him a passing kiss before grabbing coffees, helping Jordan with her weird inventions, how your face brightens with an idea and scrunches during a rant. It’s all there.

Here, he makes sense. Here, he can trust. Here, he can see perspective. Here, he’s home.

Bringing his lips to yours, his kiss is passionate and intuitive. Everything he wanted to say was right there and you felt it through your entire body.

“I love you,” Chris says, finding a moment of peace to latch on to.

You grasp his shoulders and squeeze. Giving him a smile, you bite your bottom lip. “And I love you.”

Pulling each other in, you share another kiss before he buries his exhausted face in your neck with a sigh. Your hold on him tightens, neither of you wanting to let this peaceful moment go. Sweet nothings are exchanged between more declarations of “I love you” and kisses. However, you weren’t at all surprised when Chris flipped his switch to change the genre of the mood.

“I love you AND we may have figured out the power problem!” He kisses your lips and forehead so fast, his mouth feels like a ghost as he scampers into the hallway. “Ice is nice!”

Laughter fills the space as you follow Chris and watch him bounce along the walls, jamming himself into Lazlo and an unlucky student. His smile beamed from the stairs before he screams down the foyer to you. “I absolutely love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!”

He trails off as he runs, arms flailing with excitement as you admire from his doorway and laugh.

God damn you, Chris Knight, you lovable genius.

#chris knight x reader #chris knight x fem!reader #chris knight #real genius #val kilmer #val kilmer x reader #val kilmer characters #real genius fanfic #chris knight fluff #real genius fluff #chris knight x reader fluff

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reflection-cabinet · 2 months

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Opium-Methadone

The month of mercy and forgiveness, and the disgust and loathing for other human beings who are nothing and worthless in my eyes. The moon doesn't exist tonight, only stars above the city like venereal disease scars, and here they are, glistening with dazzling clarity. I visited my mother today; she had terrifying toothaches, and the doctor prescribed 10 mg of Percocet per day for her. Lucky her, opiates for the masses.

I was in such a diminished mental state that I reached into the box and considered dissolving a crushed pill on my tongue, all for the noble purpose of sending the day-to-day troubles up to the high heavens, so that the joy of life would burst forth from the spring within her that has been clogged for years. Oh Mind-altering pills – you are the longest affair I've had in my life!

I returned the pills to the drawer, and I think my dick got hard up after I passed the test - five years clean. That's exactly twice as long as the longest time I managed not to fuck over the heart of every girlfriend I've ever had. It's not obvious, I used to be one of the heavy smearers – I'd spend whole nights sprawled on couches while opium-methadone bubbled in my blood. And it's not my fault, I was restless because of my mental disorders. The worst of them, even more than my beloved OCD, happens in the sensitive and dissociative moments of deceptive derealization. Everything feels devoid of emotional color and depth, as if I'm walking in a dream or virtual reality, wandering among you, fictitious people. I feel like Descartes, except for the thought narrating in my head, everyone is experienced as unreal and Untrustworthy..

And Dante's Inferno pales in comparison to this hell. This is the climax of the transition season, and God in heaven - I want to cry over all this pure torment. You feel as if you're about to go mad or become psychotic, but your sense of reality remains completely intact. And this creates immense, immense suffering because you are fully aware of every second, minute, and hour of what is happening to you. Like Sisyphus who rolled the immense boulder up the mountain only to reach the summit and watch it fall back down, at least he had summits. Like waking up from anesthesia in the middle of surgery, completely paralyzed, and being tortured under the surgeons' knife now cutting into your living flesh.

Opium-methadone and uninhibited sex. And acid. Because there are things more terrible and satanic than the dangers of addiction and self-destruction. And the soul moans, moans under the stench, the violence, and the wastefulness of the internal combustion engine. My soul is dazed, and my eyes are hazed, and a few days ago someone bit my lip in the heat of the moment, and I tasted the iron flowing down my throat, and it definitely tasted good to me, but I didn't tell anyone about it lest I be considered insane.

Today I wandered around the neighborhood a bit. Down the street, on a low stone fence, I saw a sad woman who reminded me a bit of myself, sitting in the company of an empty cardboard box and staring into it. I wanted to approach her and talk about the ailments of the world, because I knew that she and I shared the same feelings, and only we would truly understand what each other was going through. Such a misery was in her gaze, how her entire body language screamed - "leave me alone". One reaches such a place perhaps only after years of real suffering; and only now realized that that's it, she can't go on, she will no longer be accepted into the company of the normals. She was already past the age when it's possible to start anew. I felt with her, as mentioned, a sort of fellowship in fate, but sometimes I judge others by an internal and unique code that is mine alone, and maybe she was actually happy and from a warm home, I don't know.

Opium-methadone, and I feel like tearing myself apart with slaps or scratches. To feel how the flesh is deeply gouged by the nails until a bleeding crater is created. Afterwards, I'll dig there with a fountain pen, and what a beauty - a new tattoo. Also, I feel like beating another person to a pulp, to make him feel what I feel every day. How much rage I store here. Then I'd offer him opium. There's a thing with this substance where you're not sure if it's affecting you or not, so you reinforce every few minutes until suddenly everything comes into order and your brain starts leaking through your ears, you begin to hear the creation of the world in reverse and all the angels respond amen. If you add ecstasy for dessert, you'll start to erotically embrace the street lamps. But it's dangerous and hard to break this chain because the ecstasy produces such a down that you immediately need to find some drug for immediate consumption so that the down won't swallow you forever.

If I break up with my girlfriend, I will never again date prudes or conservatives. I love the real women of life, cheap yet with a glorious pelvis, IQ at the expense of sex appeal. Usually, they flow with my anomalous existence. I especially love girls from good homes looking for dark adventures to tell their future grandchildren. I am the Messiah of the feed, the fulfiller of wishes. That's what they think. Then I sober up, the thought fades as it came - I will no longer live with those whose existence contradicts mine. No one benefits from such a relationship.

Derealization, and again I'm shaken between sanity and madness, disconnected from the external environment, as if something separates me from the world around. Familiar places suddenly look alien, strange places momentarily appear surreal. Beautiful women turn ugly, well-wishers to soul seekers, motivation to mania, smell to taste. Opium to methadone.

My partner hasn't cried because of me or for me in several months, my mother for a year and two months. My father, for much longer. Opium-methadone, and my soul is torn.

#poetry #diary #feelings #writing #creative writing #love

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hpldreads · 3 months

Text

Don't miss out on these mysteries from the young adult section!

A Good Girl's Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson - "The case is closed. Five years ago, schoolgirl Andie Bell was murdered by Sal Singh. The police know he did it. Everyone in town knows he did it. Almost everyone. Having grown up in the small town that was consumed by the crime, Pippa Fitz-Adeleke chooses the case as the topic for her final project. But when Pip starts uncovering secrets that someone in town desperately wants to stay hidden, what starts out as a project begins to become Pip's dangerous reality..."

A Study in Charlotte by Brittany Cavallaro - "Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson descendants, Charlotte and Jamie, students at a Connecticut boarding school, team up to solve a murder mystery."

One of Us is Lying by Karen M. McManus - "When one of five students in detention is found dead, his high-profile classmates--including a brainy intellectual, a popular beauty, a drug dealer on probation and an all-star athlete--are investigated and revealed to be the subjects of the victim's latest gossip postings."

The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes - "Avery Grambs has a plan for a better future: survive high school, win a scholarship, and get out. But her fortunes change in an instant when billionaire Tobias Hawthorne dies and leaves Avery virtually his entire fortune. The catch? Avery has no idea why -- or even who Tobias Hawthorne is. To receive her inheritance, Avery must move into sprawling, secret passage-filled Hawthorne House, where every room bears the old man's touch -- and his love of puzzles, riddles, and codes. Caught in a world of wealth and privilege, with danger around every turn, Avery will have to play the game herself just to survive."

Truly, Devious by Maureen Johnson - "Ellingham Academy is a famous private school in Vermont for the brightest thinkers, inventors, and artists. It was founded by Albert Ellingham, an early twentieth century tycoon, who wanted to make a wonderful place full of riddles, twisting pathways, and gardens. 'A place,' he said, 'where learning is a game.'"

#ya mystery #truly devious #one of us is lying

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winterandwords · 2 years

Text

✍🏻 WRITEBLR INTRO

👋🏻 Hi, I'm Winter. I write dark, emotionally intense fiction about queer disaster-people who collide against a backdrop of moral bankruptcy and surf the downward spiral hand in bloodstained hand. It mostly ends well for them though, because I get pretty attached to them and apparently readers do too (which is why I appreciate all you twisted beautiful souls so much).

🌈 I write a lot of LGBT+ characters so it feels relevant to say that I’m an LGBT+ character too. I know that might not matter to my readers, but it matters to me and it impacts my creative perspective as well as my perspective on life in general.

📝 I don't write explicit sexual content because it's not my vibe (not a genital in sight here, folks). That said, if you're uncomfortable with themes around fictional violence, drug and alcohol use, and angsty kink in stories aimed at an adult audience, I might not be the ideal writer for you to follow. Not everything is for everyone and that's OK.

🔗 LINKS

📖 Read my books online, and download them as EPUBs and PDFs, for free at WinterAndWords.com ☕ If you enjoy my writing and would like to offer some support, you can buy me a virtual coffee on Ko-fi 📲 If you want to see some non-writing life fragments, my photo and video diary lives on Instagram and TikTok

💜 My reblogs tend to be writing-related, with a few exceptions. My likes are (mostly) non-writing-related things I got a kick out of, or personal posts that I want to acknowledge but that don't feel appropriate to reblog.

⭐ Encouragement for you Write what the fuck you want Gentle truths and kind honesty for writers Writing advice about 'writing advice'

🌊 NOVEMBER BREAKS (complete)

Genre: Transgressive, literary Audience: Adult Length: Approx 52k words

Working title was Project Storm

VIBE Crime, weather symbolism and questionable life choices. Hurt me, I need to feel alive. Violence is a drug. Also, drugs are drugs. This is a love story like crude oil is a tea. #ThatShouldNotBeHot. Nothing’s real anyway.

INTRO No conscience, no problem.

Noah kills for money. Brett hides a life of crime behind a successful career. Officially, they both protect people from people like themselves. Unofficially, everything is falling apart. Until they meet. And it all gets worse...

Read or download on my website

💀 FIVE (complete)

Genre: Various Audience: Adult Length: Approx 6.5k words

INTRO A collection of short science fiction, experimental, urban fantasy, and horror stories exploring themes of loss, transition, and altered states.

Read or download on my website

🌃 PROJECT FREQUENCY (WIP)

Genre: Cyberpunk, neon-noir Audience: Adult

VIBE High-rise buildings and low-life scum. Everything hurts, but not enough to feel good. Yes, that’s a gun in my pocket and no, I’m not pleased to see you. If mind control is real, why do I still have to make decisions?

INTRO Corruption and cruelty run through the veins of an opulent metropolis, where every side is the wrong side and progress is fuelled by exploitation. Too useful to waste on prison, underworld assassin Rafael Turner is sentenced to military service. When a mission to infiltrate a criminal gang drags his past to the surface and someone he thought he'd lost forever unexpectedly returns, Rafe has a chance at a future he’d given up hoping for. But how much is he willing to risk to make it a reality?

WIP summary Sign up for the tag list

Updates 23 October 2022 05 September 2022 13 August 2022

📇 TAG INDEX

#the shit in my head | rants, rambles and writer life

#project storm | WIP excerpts, updates etc (see also #november breaks for posts about the book after publication)

#project frequency | WIP excerpts, updates etc

#my writing | snippets and other wordstuff

#microfiction | tiny little stories

#your writing | other people's words

#writeblr tags | tag games and memes

#writeblr connect | finding writeblrs to follow

#reblogs | what it says on the tin

#reblogs plus | reblogs with my additions

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writeblr community #writers #writers on tumblr #writing community #writer community #writeblr introduction #writer introduction

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sk8theinfinitysims4-leavan · 5 months

Text

Honeymoon trip of Kojiro and Kaoru and Carla ~ The honeymoon is over (July 26th 2021)

And we're already at the end of Kaoru and Kojiro and Carla's honeymoon. A busy last few days, as all their friends are with them.

Pained but without losing his glamour, Kaoru goes in search of Ainosuke to talk to him.

He looks very sad 😢

Kaoru find Ainosuke who is playing with a virtual reality machine and calls him to talk.

This time is Langa-kun who sings a serenade to Reki-kun.

Snake thinks it's a good time to give Ainosuke an encouraging (or ground-marking?🤔 ) hug while he's talking to Kaoru.

Kaoru turns to Kojiro, thinking: «Take a good look at this, Snake!» Then he kisses Kojiro in front of Snake, we guess he doesn't remember Snake was at his wedding...

High Five!

The end of the honeymoon is coming and those who are hungry eat before going out to go home. Of course Snake serving Ainosuke-sama.

Kojiro come on stop playing! Finally they all leave the rented house, they go to the airport and from there to Okinawa!

Anecdote of the Honeymoon: When Kojiro was struck by lightning, he had the desire to have sex with Ainosuke.

All these situations arose automatically in our gameplay, while Kaoru and Kojiro were on their honeytrip in Italy. Just as all their friends had joined their trip. Since being part of S's "club", the club opened up and automatically they all joined the trip on their second day.

So much for Kaoru and Kojiro and Carla's honeymoon. In the next publication they all return to Okinawa to continue their daily lives. What will be in store for them? Find out soon.

LOVE AGAIN! 💗

SK8 MainStory:

Previous Post | First Post | Next Post

#Matchablossom #Matcha Blossom #JoeCherry #Matchablossom Honeymoon #TadaAi #Renga #SK8 the Infinity #Simblr #Sims 4 Anime #SOLE CILIEGIO #TRUE EDEN #SNOW SKATE #SK8 MainStory #SK8_TS4LeaVan

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queerstuffonscreen · 6 months

Text

Upload (2020-)

Episode length: 24-46 min.

Country: USA

Genre: Science Fiction, Comedy

Language: English

In 2033, people who are near death can be “uploaded” into virtual reality hotels run by 6 tech firms. Cash-strapped Nora lives in Brooklyn and works customer service for the luxurious “Lakeview” digital afterlife. When L.A. party-boy/coder Nathan’s self-driving car crashes, his high-maintenance girlfriend uploads him permanently into Nora’s VR world.

Season 1

Episode 1: Welcome to Upload

Episode 2: Five Stars

Episode 3: The Funeral

Episode 4: The Sex Suit

Episode 5: The Grey Market

Episode 6: The Sleepover

Episode 7: Bring Your Dad to Work Day

Episode 8: Shopping Other Digital After-Lives

Episode 9: Update Eve

Episode 10: Freeyond

Season 2

Episode 1: Welcome Back, Mr. Brown

Episode 2: Dinner Party

Episode 3: Robin Hood

Episode 4: Family Day

Episode 5: Mind Frisk

Episode 6: The Outing

Episode 7: Download

Season 3

Episode 1: Ticking Clock

Episode 2: Strawberry

Episode 3: Cyber Discount Day

Episode 4: Download Doctor

Episode 5: Rescue Mission

Episode 6: Memory Crackers

Episode 7: Upload Day

Episode 8: Flesh and Blood

Watch on PrimeVideo

#upload #Science Fiction #Comedy #B #bisexual #bisexual character #Aleesha Morrison #L #lesbian #lesbian character #Karina Silva #lgbt #lgbtq #tv shows with queer characters #series with queer characters

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boasamishipper · 2 years

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So curious to know about the TGM Spy Kids 3 AU you are writing (⊙_(⊙_⊙)_⊙)

first of all, all blame for this one goes to my bestie @lilalbatross, who messaged me like Woe This Idea Be Upon You, went to a meeting, and returned to find me screaming biting clawing at the walls over this. the fic is super not high on my priority list right now, but here's my current outline below the cut. main ships as always will be Iceman/Maverick, Phoenix/Rooster, and Hangman/Coyote, with Bradley and Mav's relationship at the heart of it all.

Admiral Cain / the Drone Ranger shuts down the Darkstar project and sends Maverick off to work on his experimental unmanned aircraft program before Ice can intervene.

A year passes. Ice has gotten texts and emails from Mav during that time and has seen the reports indicating the program's success, but he knows that something is wrong - which is further evidenced by the people he's spoken to about the program, who cannot remember what they did there after they left. He and Warlock and Hondo assemble a new squad of test pilots for Admiral Cain’s program with the goal of them finding Mav, bringing him home, and giving them the evidence they need to shut the program down. The squad consists of Rooster Bradshaw, Phoenix Trace, Coyote Machado, Payback Fitch, and Fanboy Garcia. Rooster is still angry about Mav having pulled his papers and set his career back four years, but when Ice tells him the real purpose of the mission, he still chooses to go.

Upon arriving at the super secret base where this program is housed, the squad are all taken to separate rooms and told that they will be flying missions in a virtual reality landscape, and the data from said flights will be transferred to the unmanned aircraft that Admiral Cain is investing in. However, there's a catch - the VR system is designed not to activate your hippocampus, which houses your long-term memory. As a result, inside the VR world, none of the detachment remembers the outside world - and upon waking, they don't remember any of the details of the missions they fly. Rooster, Phoenix, Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy fly three virtual missions together, and do not remember each other at all in the VR world. In the real world, the five of them do their best to investigate Mav's disappearance, as he is nowhere to be found on base, and too many questions earn suspicion, which is the last thing they need.

After his fourth successful mission, Rooster runs into Bob Floyd, an engineer on the project who is kind of twitchy and quiet and weirds him out. Little does Rooster (or any of the detachment) know that Bob is their handler while they are in the VR world; he is the voice that runs them through their pre-flight checklists. In the VR world the next day, while Rooster is going through his pre-flight checklist with Bob's voice in his ear, Bob flashes an image on Rooster's NAV system that reactivates Bradley's long-term memory. Bob informs Rooster (and the others, once he wakes them up too) that the missions they run are not hypothetical, that they’re actively participating in civilian airstrikes, and Rooster is horrified. Bob says Mav found out about this and tried to shut the program down from the inside, but disappeared into The Grid - the Matrix-y world behind the VR world - and Bob hasn't been able to contact him. Once everyone is woken up, the six of them team up to find Mav. At Bob’s call, Rooster, Phoenix, and Coyote fly into some sort of glitch and end up in the Matrix world and search through it for Mav. Payback and Fanboy attempt to follow, but are forcibly recalled back to reality by Cain, who forces Bob to comb through the VR world for the missing pilots.

The area of The Grid Rooster, Phoenix, and Coyote find themselves in looks like the inside of the Hard Deck. Upon exploring the bar, which looks very realistic, Rooster is attacked by Hangman, who Phoenix neutralizes and Coyote calms down. They learn that the Hard Deck functions as a loading screen of sorts, where pilots involved in the program rested between multiple missions in one day. Hangman has been there for...a very long time. (He may be a little unsteady because he's been alone for so long. He has also gotten very good at darts and pool. Coyote, feeling sorry for him, plays a few rounds with him.) Rooster, Phoenix, and Coyote find a way out of the Hard Deck and Hangman comes along after proving he knows who Mav is and has an idea of where to find him.

Once they're out of the Hard Deck, they find themselves on a beach that Rooster recognizes but isn't sure why. Phoenix and Rooster talk about Mav, what Rooster will say to him when they find him. Coyote and Hangman bond over their love of flying. Cain starts fucking up The Grid Coraline-style and the five of them make a run for it across the rapidly deteriorating landscape and escape through another glitch in The Grid, reappearing in an abandoned hangar, where it turns out Mav has been hiding all this time.

Mav has been plotting a way to shut down the VR world from the inside so Cain can never use it for his unmanned program again, and he has no idea how long he’s been here. He is stunned when Rooster tells him it's been over a year. Rooster is equally stunned when Mav reveals he has been manipulating the glitches this whole time and saved them from Cain. An explosive fight breaks out when Mav tells them that Hangman is an enemy pilot designed by Admiral Cain to root out the chinks in the unmanned aircraft's armor, so to speak. That Hangman is not a real person. Mav knows because he'd shot down Hangman too many times to count, and tells them that this is how Cain has been able to track them across The Grid. Hangman vehemently protests this, but when Mav asks him to tell them anything about the outside world, what his real name is, Hangman can’t remember and breaks down, begging them to believe that he's real. Coyote believes him and promises to get Hangman out of here.

One thing leads to another, and the five of them work together, manipulating the glitches to shut the VR program down from the inside. Mav sacrifices himself for this purpose, trapping himself in The Grid as it shuts down and effectively rendering his real world self brain dead. Rooster, Phoenix, and Coyote wake up in the real world under heavy guard; Payback and Fanboy free Rooster, Phoenix, and Coyote, and Rooster goes to save Mav. Phoenix, Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy hold off Cain while Rooster hops back into the VR world with Bob's help to bring Mav out of it. Mav is trapped in his own mind (VR version of G-LOC), reliving Goose's death over and over again, and Rooster successfully guides him out, absolving Mav of his guilt for having pulled his papers and for Goose's death, which Rooster (and Carole) never blamed Mav for in the first place. Bob reawakens both of them in the real world; Mav and Rooster hug.

Coyote learns from Ice, Hondo, and Warlock upon their arrival that Hangman is real; he was one of the first test pilots for Cain’s program but was cast aside and forgotten about once they'd gotten all the data they wanted out of him. Bob finds a way to wake up Hangman (comatose in the real world) when everyone else who'd tried had failed, and Coyote and Hangman (his long term memory reactivated upon waking up) kiss for the first time. Cain is arrested and gets the book thrown at him; Ice personally sees to it that the unmanned program is shut down; everybody lives happily ever after.

#thanks for asking!#top gun: maverick #bradley bradshaw #maverick mitchell #iceman kazansky #phoenix trace #coyote machado #bob floyd #hangman seresin #payback fitch #fanboy garcia #icemav #phoenix x rooster #macheresin #hangman x coyote #my fics #obv there's a lot of plot i need to finalize but this is the general gist of it!!#it started out as spy kids 3 and ended somewhere closer to tron legacy lmao #but here we are

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