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#and it just looks like a regular roof
humans-are-tasty · 11 months
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britneyshakespeare · 26 days
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i have been working with kids for four years and i had to write my first ever note just now about a seventh grade boy being inappropriate towards me. i don't know what the hell this could possibly lead to or what. he was trying to feel my legs repeatedly to the point where i had to stop sitting next to him (and i was subbing for his one-to-one para!!!). he's got high support needs. in that kind of job, you're supposed to sit next to them all day and look over their work.
the teacher whose classroom this was happening in could also tell something was wrong. the whole class was acting kinda crazy because it was the day before school vacation week and there was another class coming in to share projects. so like, he was swamped with keeping order already. but we were sitting two feet away from his podium at the front of the room. the kid was giving him and me a hard time when he wouldn't take out his chromebook as he was instructed. and then when he did take out his chromebook, he immediately, for some reason, places it on my lap. he had been ogling my legs the whole time. he puts his computer ON MY LAP. and i'm just like, stunned, because what the hell? can you not keep it on your own lap, for some reason? i don't even know what to say, i just hold it a little above my lap while i'm thinking why on earth would this be happening? he would NOT do this to his regular para if she were here, would he? this can't be normal.
and the teacher sees this and within a minute places a stool in front of the kid for him to put his laptop on. and i'm like. oh ok. yeah. he notices exactly what's happening and that that's not appropriate. and then when the other class comes in to share projects he tells me "miss b——, you don't actually have to sit next to c—— this whole period if you don't want to." and he grabs me a chair for me to go sit with the other paras in the back opposite corner of the room. like he KNEW. and thank you mr. d—— for recognizing that because i was just kind of shocked and didn't know if i was overreacting in my head to all of this.
when there's a point in the class where the kids are discussing stuff, i privately mention what's happened to the para who's sitting closest to me. and she says that the thing about him calling me pretty is something he's been known to do, but the fact that he kept trying to touch my legs is new behavior. and that's a completely different class of behavior. i was telling him NO, don't do that, and he kept doing it. and the fact that he was calling me pretty repeatedly, even when i was giving him instructions that he wasn't taking. and this is the second to last class before the end of the day, so she says she'll take a walk with him before learning center and talk to him about it, and i'm grateful for that. she does. the kid apologizes to me as soon as i come into learning center. but like. WHAT the hell.
i'm STILL like what the hell. this is unfathomable to me. the other adults who i told about this or who witnessed it were supportive of me. but. what to do??? i wrote a long note to his regular para about this, because i knew she was going to hear about it at least from the first para i told. the second para i told about it after school had a kind of... i'm not gonna say enabling reaction, but i suppose since it had already been "taken care of" (or at least, he had been spoken to and apologized) she didn't really have much to add in the way of discipline. i told her what happened after school and she was just like... a little bit, laughing? like oh, yup, that dog. she at the very least confirmed he KNEW what he was doing, that that was not an accident. she said to me "i had a feeling he was going to develop a crush on you" (me and these other paras were together for most of the beginning of the day too). but it's like. it's not about that.
i have worked with children for FOUR years. children have had crushes on me before; i'm quite unfazed by it. boys from the ages of 5-to-15 have told me i'm so pretty before and asked me to marry them. i've never had them feeling up my legs before. i've never had them making me physically uncomfortable. it's NOT about this seventh grader having a crush on the pretty substitute. he is NOT unusual for that, at all. but i've never had a boy of any age or education level repeatedly touching my knees and thighs. THAT is problem behavior!!!
because what if i wasn't assertive enough with him to tell him to stop? what if i was a girl his age? worse, what if i was an adult who encouraged this behavior? i don't come to the middle school to be a seductress. i had no intention in putting on a pair of tights and a skirt this morning of being viewed as an attractive object, especially not by a pubescent boy. what if i did though? what if his interpretation of me wasn't so incorrect and offensive? what if i let him keep touching me inappropriately and saying flirtatious things to me? me, an adult in my mid-twenties, towards a middle school boy?
in no world would that be ok. if i had been feeling up and overly-complimenting a CHILD at my place of work, holy shit would there be reports about me. so a child acting that way could never be ok either. if it'd be firable for me to be reciprocating that action, then that action should not be happening to me. ever. and that child should never repeat that action again to any other adult again.
like i am simply not there to be treated as an attractive young woman. i put on a skirt that shows too much knee and get paired with a boy, though, and that's apparently just a natural consequence. hooo-ly shit. like i don't know what to do. first of all, the more time passes since this has happened, the more i am just unable to stop thinking about it. i wasn't "hurt" or too emotional in the moment but i'm just still processing it and it gets worse. i'm just more and more disgusted.
i don't know what i expect to come out of this, or the email i sent to his regular para. like, am i gonna have to attend a fucking meeting? what is the precedent that this sets for him? WHY do i feel BAD for him about this? well, because he's a child, of course. a child who has done wrong he may not be able to understand. but he knows WHAT he did. he just doesn't know WHY it was wrong.
and i couldn't even say something to him that was like, "well, how would you like it if i was touching you like this?" because young boys do not understand how inappropriate it'd be. i'm sure this kid thought he was gonna get away with what he was doing at the very least. but probably not unlikely he (being a child with no concept of how wrong it'd be) thought he could get some sort of "positive" attention for treating me like this. either way he was simply doing what he wanted to do, with no perspective of how it would make me feel or that it could be classified as harassment. teenage boys think it'd be awesome if the older attractive woman would reciprocate their affections. they're wrong. i, as the older attractive woman of his affection, cannot be the one to convince him of that, though.
i don't know. i don't know. like it's just so not ok. but if i didn't tell another adult about this, he would've gotten away with it. he would probably do it again. and him being in trouble for it is not the same as him understanding that it was wrong. unless someone has a REAL talk with him about inappropriate attention and consent, it's not unlikely that he'll just repeat the behavior in a setting where he thinks he won't be caught or told on. THAT'S the problem. me, i could just never have to be this boy's para again. in my email, i didn't say that i would never be ok working with or around him ever again. he already knows i didn't like it and i'm not afraid to tell on him; as far as that lesson applies to me, individually, i think he's become too ashamed to repeat that.
i don't know. i don't know. i very much expressed that i, i guess, "forgave" him in the email that i wrote. i clarified that i was writing it for the sake of having it on the record. i think that could potentially be very important for the purposes of preventing further similar or escalating behavior from him in the future. i don't want him to be in trouble. i don't think i will be blamed for this, especially not with how promptly i acted, although i don't know to what extent this will be framed as me thinking i'm a "victim." i'm not... i don't feel victimized. i feel disgusted. i feel afraid for the sake of what could happen to or with him in the future, if he thinks behavior like his towards me today is ok.
i feel like if i end up having to further respond to this, this will be made about me. in a way it kind of was. is? in the moment it was happening, it was certainly about me. because i was the one this boy was giving all this unwanted attention to. but to make the consequences of this about me and to involve me any further, i also don't want. because i said what i said already, i don't care if a student has a crush on me. this isn't about me being the pretty substitute. i'm the pretty substitute all the time, to tons of people. that's not really something i've been concerned about up until now.
but do i have to reexplain my personal embarrassment? that i was wearing a skirt? that he was ogling my legs? really? what more do i have to gain from sharing that, other than having the adults at my place of work confirm or deny me in their heads as the pretty substitute? i don't know. perhaps that's REALLY overthinking it. but i don't want to be the substitute that caused a problem for this special ed kid. i don't wanna be the reason that he can't be around me anymore, the person people think of when they're monitoring how he's acting around girls and young women. i DON'T want to be the one people think of when they think of his past misbehavior. i'm NOT here for that.
that's just fucking humiliating. and in this being a thing that could follow him, i have to be ogled and touched over and over again in people's minds for this to be taken seriously. but for this to be swept under the rug would be even worse, no? i don't know. i hate this. the principal is a nice guy; i wouldn't be surprised if he and/or people from the special ed department reached out to me sympathetically about this. but i don't wanna be reached out to. i don't wanna have ppl i work with tell me "sorry that kid was just so attracted to you he couldn't help himself" like come on. if the kid himself doesn't change then i don't really care to remember this incident. and no one reaching out to me and saying they've talked to this kid will actually prove to me he understands. this is the kind of inappropriate behavior it takes years for people to understand why it was wrong, especially a child who has no idea. i mean come on.
#tales from diana#long post#sorry i should probably put this under a read more but it was just a long stream of consciousness#and idk. im tired. im so tired#do you wanna be known as the substitute teacher a kid kept touching inappropriately? probably not#thank god for the first para i told bc she took it really seriously seemingly. i mean idk what she told him in their conversation#not EXACTLY what she told him. she obviously said this was wrong and she reiterated in learning center again#that if that were her daughter she'd be through the roof and that she'd be telling his regular para#i mean of course i had to tell the regular para directly. i would rather it come from my mouth#i'm the one who has the most information of how and why it happened. i think other ppl telling it would just reduce it to#'he thought she was so pretty and he kept staring at and touching her legs cuz she wore a skirt' like come on#the indignity of that!#i already feel undignified enough.#and also thank god for the social studies teacher. the more im processing this the more im like thank god#i dont know him well. he had already been a nice dude to me before in my interactions w him#like as a sub you notice the people who are really affirming of the strange and irregular work you do#earlier this week i was subbing for the math teacher across the hall for instance and he came in before class started and said#that if anyone's giving me a hard time to just send them to him. bc that group can be a little rowdy/wild#my classroom discipline skills are not that bad where i felt the need to have someone more experienced defend me so to speak#like i know i look young and am assumed to be new. but with most classes. i can handle most misbehavior#i can put my foot down in a way kids normally respect. i know how to keep em on task#and for MOST of the day with this kid that's what i was doing. but if that social studies teacher hadn't done what he did#i might not feel so bold in just straight up walking away from that kid. after saying stop stop stop repeatedly#like he had his own job to do independent of me but i remember the gestures and like. i could cry. he KNEWWWW#that's just a very trustworthy person i feel. he didn't want me to suffer through that any longer#a lot of teachers (unfortunately) largely ignore the kids with paras and/or expect the paras to communicate to the kid exclusively#that teacher is not like that. he was willing to mind that boy while i escaped that situation. so so grateful to him
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rockethorse · 2 years
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Mansard roofing (slightly shortened with the heigh tool) + awning to fill the middle = the most luscious CC-free TS2 roof I’ve seen in a while 😍
Sure, it’s probably not weatherproof without flooring underneath, and it’s a bit of a PITA how you can see the awning from the floor below if you have walls all the way up, but that doesn’t bother me during most normal gameplay and I can’t stop looking at it so I don’t carreee
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mejomonster · 8 months
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Ridiculously depressed but I am running ragged (which is surely worsening the depression ToT) so like the idea of weekly therapy to further exhaust me and trigger the anxiety more doesn't sound super compatible
#rant#like. i havent eaten in 6 days im fucking miserable amd on edge. my gi issues are FUCKED right now#so i cant eat and im desperate To eat asap so i really hope my gi issues improve soon jesus fucking christ#anyway... on top of that which... homestly on its own is enough to destroy me emotilnally and exhaust me....#i also am intensely deptessed a friend has like 5 crushes 4 dating options#i looked up advice today! oh no the spiral! i am considering paying money for a matchmaking service just so i can hate myself more i guess#when even that fails. i havent had a crush in 5 years either. i had like 3 crushes BUT they were married or aro#so i stopped my crush. so basically no crush on available for relationships peolle in half a decade. k feel broken#i looked up how to develop crushes today. google amd youtube apparently think its so rare to Not crush that theres no fucking advice#and then on top of it i have regular run of the mill anxiety. where i disassociate if im in public or around strangers.#which helps Me cope and i Feel great. as in not scared. but it means i dont talk well to strangers.#i try to. but i barely know what im saying and i dont see anyone i see them vaguely then block it out. and thats how i handle public.#and if i can manage to be present i need enough of a crowd i can hide. and if i see an attractive person i look away#cause i turn red and cant breathe. and im chicken i guess. so ur supposed to LOCK EYES with hot strangers and stare. but i need to PRACTICE#and then i also need to practice just. MAKING myself go places that make my anxiety shoot up horribly#and just sit and make myself stare at random peoplr and touch my skin and make myself endure being present.#then i have to do the same thing in public places i Like (which makes me more anxioud and in the past often resulted in panic attacks then#suicide attempts and self harm during said pamic attacks) so im not like super hype to endure that#and id rather endure it WHEN MY HEALTH IS SOLID ENOUGH I CAN EAT#because currently? me hungty? me in immense pain? even non anxiety inducing situatilns are shooting my stress level through the roof.#spilling coffee right now is making me feel like dying. just cayse im hungry and exhausted. i want to work up to 1. gi tract DIGESTING FOOD#PLEASE GOD SOON. 2. my back doesnt hurt so bad so i can STAND in public#3 stand in a nonthreatening public place like a bookstore or grocery store and stare at people#4 stand in nonthreatening place and stare at Hot people#5 attempt to enter a place in public i LIKE A LOT like a local hobby club. attempt for an hour if needed#call it a win if i make it to the doorway befote the panic attack hits. 6 attempt again at least standing IN FRONT of building 5 minutes#7 attempt again and maybr peak in and use bathroom so i can leave if im scared. 8 attempt again to enter building and maybe finally join#event i want to join. 8 attempt looking people in the eyes and remaining present at Location i like.#9 attempt looking pretty people In The Eye. 10 attempt saying hi i like your X#11 attempt conversation (if i got through all prior steps). which. this anxiety work could take 3-4 months minimum
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thatrandomsarahchick · 5 months
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DC x DP short
I'm picturing Danny moving to Gotham once he's an adult. He came out to his parents, and it went fine. More than fine. They listened to how he was struggling at school because he kept having to chase down the ghosts they let out by leaving the portal open. Jack was super proud of his son for being a ghost hunter even as a ghost, but Maddie understood his concern and set up some new protocols for the portal.
It now automatically closes after two minutes unless a specific command is put in by Danny to keep it open while he is in the Zone, and the shielding around it actually works to stop ghosts coming trig without hurting them now.
The shine of the mortal world has worn off for most of his regulars now, and those that come through have figured out compromises so they can still fulfil their obsessions without hurting others. The meta-protection act officially disbands the GIW, and Red Huntress is given a very thorough speaking to about personal bias and vendettas. She's not allowed back in the field until she comes to the realisation that ghosts are people too, and that she been the bad guy by hunting them the way she did. Phantom is officially recognised as a Hero, but he turns down working for any teams or joining the Big Leagues. He agrees to act as a back up though, in case of any world ending event.
By the time senior year rolls around, Danny has gotten his grades up enough that he can go to a pretty decent university if he wants to. He chooses Gotham University for his engineering degree because they're a feeder school for Wayne Enterprises, who in turn are a feeder company for working for the Justice League as a civilian engineer. Tucker also chooses GU for their tech program, while Sam elects not to go to university straight away.
Tucker and Danny move into an apartment right on the borders of Crime Alley and The Narrows. Tucker manages an impressive 4 months as a local hacker before Oracle notices him, but Danny only manages 3 weeks before he's spotted by a Bat.
He's lying down a foot above his building's roof, looking at the stars. It's a very rare cloudless night, and the power is out in his area. Poison Ivy had launched an attack earlier in the day that had taken cut the power lines, with her mutant plants feeding on the smog and pollution to get stronger.
Duke was up late, finishing the day shift by a quick loop of The Narrows, when he noticed a slightly glowing teenager(?) floating on one of the roofs. He takes note that the man isn't causing any harm and is just peacefully stargazing, before calling it in to Jason. He was technically supposed to be off the clock an hour ago, and besides, the building was on the Crime Alley side of this street. It's Jason's problem now.
Jason, on the other hand, is exhausted and just wants to have a quiet patrol before collapsing in bed. He hadn't been hit by Ivy's plants, but had taken a couple of tumbles while dodging them. He heads over to the address Duke gave him, to find the guy still floating there staring at the sky. He gets it, he does, he would float above the grime that coats Gotham rooftops if he could, but it's dangerous for a meta to be so unawares of his surroundings like this while obviously displaying his powers.
Danny, meanwhile, had clocked both of the vigilantes coming near him, but was really hoping that they would leave him alone. It had been a very long day for him. He'd finally managed to get to campus for his class, only to find that the place was covered in overgrown plants. He'd had to freeze a few to get into the building, and had then spent most of the afternoon in the library due to his class being cancelled. Unfortunately for him, his nearly finished assignment that he'd spent the day working on was eaten by one of the giant flowers on his way home. He'd been 'saved' by the stabby Robin, which had caused him to then also lose his laptop as they crashed to the rooftop a few streets over.
Thankfully, he had an amazing best friend in Tucker, who was doing his best to recover as much data as possible. On the downside, though, Tucker was mad at him for now having saved a backup of his files since they left Amity. He'd fled to the roof to escape his wrath, plans of bribes in the form of food running through his mind, when he'd caught sight of the Stars. Holy shit. It was so clear tonight!
He didn't even realise he'd begun to glow and float, too caught up in naming all of the stars and constellations he could see. His Obsession was feeling very satisfied tonight. Usually he had to invisibly fly above the cloud cover to see such a sight. Sure, the light pollution was still bad, but his mind was able to fill in the blanks across the sky.
The moment Jason landed on his roof, Danny heaved a great sigh. Damnit. The fun police were here. He wrenched his eyes from the sky, only to notice that - oh, shit - he was floating again. He fell to the roof with a light thump.
"Heeeyyy stranger, come here often?" Danny asked, as he rolled over to his side, propping his head up on his hand.
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sayoneee · 4 months
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☆ CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT
“i want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck, not because he owns me, but because he really knows me” - taylor swift (1.6k)
contains: luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader. secret relationship: the three times u guys were almost caught and the one time u were. pre-tlt.
kashaf’s note: working on requests as well so dw!! again. i just like this 1 lyric from this song <;/3
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1. 
MORNINGS AT CAMP half-blood were both weird and normal — at a summer camp for kids with godlike abilities, you’d think that maybe they’d be cut some slack from all the monsters they’ve had to evade and maybe be allowed to sleep in some days, but no, life at camp half-blood was a regular survival of the fittest regime. 
or: eat, or be eaten, as you liked to remind your cabin. 
maybe that was why you were notorious among ares cabin, but to the rest of camp half-blood you simply embodied an other-worldly discipline, more of a tactician than anything, when compared to the rest of your half-siblings.  
“hey,” clarisse says in an undertone, nudging you as you take your designated seat beside her, “where were you last night?” 
your hand stilled as you picked up your goblet, shrugging your shoulders as the once-boisterous table came to a stand-still, eager to discover their shrewd head counselor’s indiscretions, hoping for something to loosen your high esteem for them: everyone remembered the time the entire cabin was put on cleaning detail for an entire month to repent for the mistakes of one.
your penchant for collective punishment wasn’t at all well-received among your half-siblings, but well, no one had really challenged you on your position yet, so.
“in bed,” you said, slowly, taking a sip, “why?”
clarisse shrugged, spearing a carrot from your plate, masking her annoyance with you — out of all of your half-siblings, camp half-blood, even, no one could boast of a relationship as close as yours and clarisse’s, yet no one could be more opposite. clarisse was chaotic, you were contained; clarisse was ruthless, you were just.
“i dunno, i just saw two people on the roof of hermes cabin.”
“and?” you drawled, ignoring the blood rushing in your ears, as the rest of your cabin looked on gleefully.
“one of them was castellan,” clarisse paused, searching your face for a reaction — you were grateful for all the nights spent in hermes cabin, because if not for the stolls persuading you to play poker with them almost every time, your expression would’ve never survived under clarisse’s scrutiny.
“the other one,” clarisse pauses as if thoughtful for once, then pointedly stares, pointing her fork at you, “looked like you.”
the other cabins are also looking in your direction as the dining pavilion is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, before the table finally registers clarisse’s words, resulting in so much whooping and jeering, you’d think ares cabin won the lottery.
you snag a bite of clarisse’s pancakes, each word punctuated by a bite, “what would i be doing with castellan?” you pause, feeling the table pause with you. wrinkling your nose, you continued, “i swear, next you’re gonna say you saw us making out during capture the flag.”
you grinned as the table erupted into laughter once more, this time by your design. while everyone else went back to their original conversations, you’re summoning the memories of last night.
how luke had wrapped his arm around your shoulders and attempted to woo you with myths about the stars, how you had laughed and called him corny. how the moonlight had illuminated his face in the moment, when he laughed back, drawing you in closer, with his usual snarky response of, “you love it though.”
clarisse snapped her fingers in front of your face, bringing you out of your reverie. she frowned, whispering, “you’d tell me though, if that was you, right?”
“yeah,” you nodded, trying not to feel guilty about lying — clarisse deserved the truth. but it went against your agreement with luke. you tried not to think about how you’re essentially picking a boy over your sister.
2.
like all things camp half-blood, if not careful, could result in death — like capture the flag, but did that stop you, or anyone else for that matter, in taking it upon yourself to make winning a matter of life or death. 
this week, you orchestrated an alliance with hermes cabin, because of their numbers and ability to launch unforeseen tactics, and hephaestus cabin, for their resourcefulness. it also didn’t hurt that the head counselors were your boyfriend and his friend, respectively.
you’re standing by zeus’ fist, discussing strategy with luke and charlie, while your respective cabins go off doing whatever it is to prepare, when luke’s sloppily-tied breastplate catches your attention. 
before you’re fully aware of what you’re doing, you’ve already reached forward to grab it, while charlie stares at you like you’ve been cursed by athena and turned into medusa. 
“so,” charlie says, slowly, “anything you guys wanna tell me?” 
luke is silent, watching you work, while you’re too busy focused on fixing the breastplate to notice the knowing expression on charlie’s face, one you would’ve been irritated by if you had.
“nothing,” you say, nonchalantly, whirling back around to face charlie when you’re finished, while luke gets swarmed by the stolls, “these things just bother me.”
“in general, or luke specifically?” charlie grins, that annoying, all-knowing look is back, and although reluctantly, you can see what it is about him that has silena beauregard so hung over. 
“in general,” you say as if it were obvious, as if you’re trying to convince a child that storks are the ones to deliver babies, and no, you’re not lying, (both statements hold the same level of ridiculousness), “it’s the adhd — makes it distracting.”
“uh huh,” he says skeptically, “i’ll take your word for it.”
you resist the urge to shake him and question him more, but before you can toughen up and just ask, “what do you mean?” he’s already turned away, and capture the flag is about to begin. 
3.
“what’s that?” annabeth points at the tiny “L” on your necklace as it swings to and fro, finally set loose from the captivity of your neon orange camp half-blood tee, hidden under your armor.
“what?” you glance down, dropping the sword in your hand to hastily tuck it away, all the while cursing both yourself and luke for being stupidly sentimental. (it was his idea after all, though, you’re not sure how or where he got the necklace from, but you didn’t really care if it was stolen — you wouldn’t put it past him, especially since he was a son of hermes.)
“was that for luke? are you dating him?” annabeth persists, eyes widening with question after question — nothing can satiate the curiosity of athena kids, especially not annabeth, not when luke castellan, her brother, is in the equation.
“no,” you say, trying to catch your breath from the sword technique you had just shown her, and the gaggle of younger campers who have now caught on, looking at you eagerly.
“no to what? no to the initial on your necklace being for luke, or no to you dating him?” another camper chimes in with a bright grin, probably a child of apollo, and you’re so close to shooting yourself on the spot.
“no to all of the above,” you grit out, really regretting being nice for one of the few times in your life, because no one had asked you, in particular, to demonstrate sword-fighting to these kids, luke could’ve done it, but where your boyfriend was concerned, you were too.
“then, how come you have an “L” necklace?” annabeth asks again.
“it’s my mom’s,” you lie, “i’m a year-rounder, so it reminds me of her — before all this,” you waved in the general direction of camp half-blood.
the campers ohh’ed in unison, but you knew annabeth wasn’t convinced.
you sighed, it could’ve been worse.
+4.
you’re not sure when or where the whispers that your boyfriend had returned originated, but after what seemed like eons of not seeing him, you couldn’t find it in yourself to verify the rumors before dropping your sword in the middle of training and sprinting toward half-blood hill to see him for yourself.
you ignore the calls of your name from your half-siblings, as you were kind of in the middle of demonstrating a technique, instead choosing to focus on more important things, like if your boyfriend was even alive.
when you finally do make it to half-blood hill, and catch sight of your boyfriend, with chris and charlie in tow, you don’t stop sprinting, uncaring for all of the whispers from the other campers as they look on. 
when you finally do come in contact with luke, you nearly tackle him into the ground, as he drops his backpack behind the two of you, arms coming to wrap around you to secure you, as you mumbled, “i missed you, asshole,” into the crook of his neck.
luke laughed, the sound reverberating against your skin, and you get off him, taking a step back. he starts to say something, “i —” but is cut off by you grabbing his wrist, and tugging him over your shoulder, his back slamming into the dirt ground. distantly, you can hear the rest of campers gasp, before buzzing with excitement. ignoring them all, you put your knee on his chest, bringing your forearm under his neck. 
“i swear to everyone, if you disappear like that again—” you begin, as luke cuts you off.
“i won’t,” he promises, grinning as you pull him up. luke slings an arm around your shoulder, and you finally notice the jagged scar running down his cheek. 
he catches your gaze and stares at the ground instead, avoiding you.
“you look kinda hot now with the scar,” you settle for, you know you’ll get the chance to properly speak about it later, but for now, this’ll have to do. 
a light pink dusts his cheeks, and luke, looking up at the campers gathered behind chiron, then glances back at you, smirking, “looks like you gave them quite a show.”
you glared at him, shoving him, “i’m going to kill you.”
luke shrugged, wrapping the arm around you tighter, “the damage’s done, now i’ll finally be able to hang out with my girl in peace.” 
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© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.
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m-ayo-o · 4 months
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going to the dentist after giving a bj~ doctor geto notices signs of palatal petechiae /bruising on the roof of your mouth/ on his sweet and shy patient !! 18+ explicit oral wc 2k
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"Come in, sit down, Miss ..... And how was your weekend?"
You recline back on the chair, feeling a little nervous, filling your regular dentist in on the date you had on Saturday.
"Oh? Was he a keeper?"
"It went well, but I don't think it's anything serious..." you trail off. You were a little disappointed, despite the amazing evening you two had together, not to mention the great sex.
"Oh, that's a shame," he replies less than wholeheartedly.
He pushes his glasses up his nose and flicks through some paperwork, not keeping you waiting for long.
He turns to you, addressing you politely as always.
"Just a regular check up today?"
"Mhm" you nod a little stiffly, making him chuckle.
"Aw, you're not still nervous, Miss ....., you've been coming to me for months now."
You don't want him to take it personally. The whole process is just a bit intimidating. You were quite jumpy around dentists anyway, but after meeting such an attractive one your nerves have only got worse. You're constantly aware of where you're looking, trying not to embarrass yourself and focusing on not drooling all over him.
You shake your head, again, like a robot. He can see right through you and your petty crush that's becoming blindingly obvious.
"Here," he pulls his surgical mask over the lower half of his face, "how's that? Less scary now?"
You see his eyes are still smiling through his glasses and you can't help but giggle at his attempts to ease the tension. But you feel your face starting to heat up, especially under the bright light above your head.
"Just lay back and get comfortable, let me take a look, ok?"
You take a deep breath and tilt your head back, preparing yourself for his closeness.
His cologne is dreamy, his body is warm... and his eyes--
"Say, 'ah' please," he instructs you softly. His voice is so deep and calm he always makes you swoon. But now you have to show him the inside of your mouth... It makes you cringe so bad.
What if you didn't brush as thoroughly as you thought you did? What if there's a tiny piece of your breakfast stuck between your teeth? What if you need a filling!!?
Your worries are endless, but you open up, allowing his gloved fingers and metal tool to invade your mouth.
The smell of rubber enters your nostrils and you wince slightly at his gentle prodding motions.
"Flossing?"
You give him an awkward 'ah hah'
"And wearing your retainer?"
"Nn hn" you nod.
"Looking good. Open a bit wider, please."
He pokes around right at the back, checking your wisdom teeth.
"These been giving you trouble?"
"A-ah"
"Good a-and- oh-"
His sentence falls off and his words are caught in his mouth. You've never heard him stutter before, and he's blinking rather rapidly behind his glasses which appear to be steaming up a little. You give him a quizzical look, arching an eyebrow, wondering what caught his tongue.
"It- it's just a little... bruising. On your soft palate."
What an unprofessional thing to say. But he couldn't help it- it's just so shocking to think of a girl like you doing something like that.
But you don't understand the implications of his comment at all. He leans back and takes off his gloves, concluding your in depth inspection for today quite abruptly.
"Is it bad to have bruises there? It- it doesn't hurt-"
He sighs. He shouldn't have said anything, now you're just starting to panic.
"Is it something serious?"
"No, no," he tries to brush it off with one of his signature easy smiles, but you keep asking if you're going to be ok and if it's a condition, getting more and more stressed out.
He pulls off his surgical mask and sets his glasses on the counter, looking you up and down- he can't believe he's going to say something like this to you; his sweet patient.
"It's just," he massages his brow and pushes his black hair out of his face, "from... pleasuring a man."
"..."
"I'm sorry. I... didn't mean to embarrass you," he says, despite the unmistakable pink rising on his cheeks, "I shouldn't have commented and-"
"It's-- okay--" you start giggling.
Finally, the ice is broken by such a silly comment. You don't know why you're finding it so amusing that your charming dentist has just found out what you were really doing this weekend. But seeing his reaction- his flushed cheeks and the way his dark eyes are looking down- he's flustered. Your smooth talking, fine looking dentist is flustered!
"I-- I should be more careful-- of when I arrange my appointments-!!"
He can see you're not offended by his comment at all and that, in fact, you finally look comfortable now you're laughing hysterically in the medical chair where you usually sit so awkwardly.
"It's not a big deal, I was just a little... shocked," he muses, continuing to explain himself. He doesn't know what he's saying, as long as you keep laughing he doesn't care.
"Shocked? Oh, why would you be shocked, Doctor Geto? I told you I had a date!" You say with a smile on your face, watching his embarrassment grow.
You're starting to like this look on him, and he's loving every second of your cute giggling fit. However, he'd prefer if your conversation took a different turn.
"After a date- he must've been quite something," he dials up his flirty tone again.
You reciprocate, giving him a sly smile before saying, "It's not a big deal, Doctor Geto."
"Suguru," he replies with seduction seeping into his tone, "and maybe his wasn't..."
His eyes flick down south, drawing your attention to the tent in his suit pants that's been resting heavy there since the thought of you giving head crossed his mind.
He couldn't help picturing how pretty you'd look, and how you'd sound. Oh, just imagining the sounds are driving him to madness. He thinks he must be half mad, suggesting something like this with his patient. But his next appointment is in over an hour, and he's seen the way you look at him, knowing that part of the reason you're so shy is because you find him so unbearably attractive. He can tell he has an effect on you.
And he seems to be in luck, since you're feeling very enticed to take this flirtation further. You slowly but purposefully drag your eyes away from the sumptuous swell between his legs, up the well fitting seams of his shirt, and find the gorgeous outline of his face before locking eyes with him in the most seductive manner.
"Suguru," just hearing his first name pass your lips makes him twitch- he's gonna need more than a dick sucking at this rate, "I think what you have in your pants... is a very big deal."
Perhaps the biggest you've seen- through his clothes, anyway.
"Why don't you come over here and find out?" He replies without skipping a beat, beckoning you over to him.
You bite your lip and slink towards your dentist where he sits with his legs spread in his office chair. He watches your body move like a pendulum, until you reach him and place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscle there.
"Get on your knees for me."
There's something in his tone- in his confidence- that makes you bend down and get between his legs without thinking twice. You look up and watch one of his hands reach behind his head where unties the neat bun of his black locks, letting them fall over his shoulders.
He reclines on his seat majestically as you unzip his pants, not wasting a second longer in starting to pleasure him.
The swell you saw through his pants? Yeah, it was deceiving. Now you've got it resting in your hand you can see every thick and juicy inch. You lick the underside up and down, really slow, making him sigh.
"Good girls don't tease." He chastises through bite swollen lips.
"'m not a good girl."
He lets out a little laugh, then tugs on your lip with his thumb, opening your mouth slowly.
"I'm about to make you one."
~
"You're so fucking gorgeous."
He's breathless from the way you're sucking him, pushing your hair back to see how he sinks in and out.
He lets you do it for a while, admiring you getting messy, finding the perfect rhythm to tease his cum out.
But he needs more.
His hand slinks to the back of your neck and he starts guiding you deeper.
"'m gonna put this pretty throat of yours to good use now, ok sweetheart?"
He warns you gently, with his hips starting to move when you nod and continue sucking on him.
"Your date didn't do it like this, did he Miss .....?"
He knows he didn't, from the bruises on your throat he can tell the man barely touched you back there. But it was enough for his keen eyes to catch- and god he's glad he did now he's in your mouth. He starts to build himself up, nearly choking you with his dick, and he can tell he's going to leave even bigger marks back there.
He uses your soft and warm throat to bring him up to the edge, grabs your neck and takes himself over with breathless words tumbling from his lips.
"That's it, told you I could make a good girl of you- sso fucking good, hm, taking my cum-"
Your whimpers and gagging noises coax out a loud groan from his chest, he fucks his cum in your mouth and slowly slides out.
He tastes salty and tangy, and a little sweet. You swirl your tongue up his shaft and over that swollen, leaky tip, cleaning every drop off him.
He tilts your head back slowly.
"Let me see. Oh, fuck sweetheart~"
He wants to go again.
You see a look in his eyes that tells you he needs it. You return a similar expression and stick out your tongue, showing him the mess he made, and he arches right over as if inspecting you again.
And he's pleased to see the bruises on the back of your throat have only gotten bigger, where his cock head was rutting into you.
You close your mouth and swallow, lick your lips and start to tidy yourself up.
Your dentist looks at his watch and, with less than 15 minutes left until his next appointment, decides that he can't go for another round today.
"Can I give you my personal number?" He asks as he finishes buckling himself up again and finding his glasses.
"Yeah, okay Docto- um, Suguru," you smile and pass him your phone. He adds his details and slips your phone back, bringing you closer, and places a soft kiss on your cheek. Despite just sucking the man off, his sweet actions get your stomach flipping and your cheeks heating up. You hold onto his chest and feel his hands on your back as his lips caress your face, finally landing on your lips. Your noses nudge each other gently and his tongue slips over yours before he releases you and tells you he's got to get ready for his next patient.
"Just text me, ok? I'd love to repay the favour."
He smiles and watches you reapply your lip gloss that smeared off.
"Mhm, I will Suguru," you chirp and place a sugary peck to his cheek and waltz out of his practice. You can't believe you just did something like that... but with him, you'd do it anytime.
You'll be sure to call your sweet dentist before your next appointment.
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suguru | m.list
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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months
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yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario
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warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.
There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.
As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.
PART TWO
Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.  
If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.
So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her. 
Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point. 
This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.
And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all. 
Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.
A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you. 
In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head. 
“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.” 
Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?” 
You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”
“Then why -”
“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.” 
His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel. 
“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything. 
Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.
“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!” 
Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man. 
But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful  sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.
 If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out. 
You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners. 
Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her. 
You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.” 
Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its  publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse. 
When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room. 
You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number. 
“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you. 
“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised. 
“Sir -” You began. 
“Yulian, please.” 
“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.” 
You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…
“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.” 
You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?” 
He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”
“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged  on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.” 
Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.
“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.
Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time. 
He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home. 
As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes. 
It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped. 
She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right? 
The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment. 
“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room. 
“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley. 
Her reaction was….amusing. 
After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good. 
Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too. 
But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all. 
Taglist
@impeakcharacterdesign
@faesdreaming
@faux-ecrivain
@majestichugs
@abelheilonwife
@suiana
@lxdymoon0357
@dxmoness
@tired-of-life-86
@imperfectbloodmoon
@lovely-nightmares
@yandere-dark-cupid
@beardedblizzardexpert
@d10nsaint
@likesugarandcyanide
@justcressida
@mooly-artistic
@cassanderasblog
@swallowtailcherry
@amidst-the-tempest
@usernames-are-so-hard-to-create
@navierkalani
@yanderefangirl
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
2K notes · View notes
yxami · 1 year
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pretty yandere that is obsessed with you
description: pretty yandere x gn reader, obsessiveness, stalking, general yandere stuff, kind of tsundere reader? I’ve been writing a lot of short stuff that pop up in my head, I hope you guys like it. I need to get to requests tho or else imma procrastinate lol
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pretty yandere that is praised with every step he takes, an angel— no! god that blessed the eyes of those who managed to glance at him. He was gorgeous, with attributes that every mother would boast about if he was their son.
He was wealthy, kind, and most of all ethereal. He was a treasure amongst the busy city and many fell for him as soon as they saw him. He was aware of his beauty yet acted humble and kind. Well, that’s what people believed when they managed to speak to him.
The same person you saw plastered on magazines and top rated shows was sitting on your bed for the fifth time this week and it was only Wednesday. You grit your teeth, seething that he managed to break in once again.
If you could even count him getting a copy of your key from your landlord as breaking in. He always managed to sneak his way into your life somehow. All because you decided to help him.
It wasn’t even anything out of the ordinary, you just helped him pick up papers that fell when he tripped.
“Thank you! I appreciate the help” He beamed, shooting his best smile that was guaranteed to make a face go red with adoration.
“No problem” You stuck your headphones back in and waved him goodbye.
That was it. That was all you did!
He was standing there dazed, turning his head to look at you walking away. You didn’t blush? You didn’t pass out at the closeness between your face and his? You didn’t even nervously stutter at the sight of his looks?
He couldn’t believe that you could look at him, and not fall in love? It wasn’t like he was being cocky, that was just how he was raised. Every since he grew up, people were infatuated with him, so to see someone brush off their interaction with him of all people was an eye opener.
Maybe that’s why he stalked you afterwards, well not stalk! He was just coincidentally walking the same way as you. He had trouble along the way with people bothering him but he stayed determined on the task of figuring you out.
When he made it to your apartment building he was a little bummed out. Such a normal, bland building. Everything about you seemed pretty regular to him. Your clothing, your words, anything he was able to see through the balcony of your apartment when he was standing on the roof of another building.
He still decided to make it his mission to get to know more about you. He found you interesting after learning more and it resulted in him craving to know more.
“Seriously” You stared at him, not believing the audacity he had to come back even when you told him that you were going to report him to the police, which didn’t work in your favor..
The police told you they were going to investigate it but you could tell in their condescending looks that they didn’t believe one word that came out of your mouth. A famous model, actor, singer, and city’s prized possession, stalking you? That had to be one of the most ridiculous reports they’ve ever heard.
You saved yourself the embarrassment after realizing that nobody would believe you about any of these moments. It honestly shocked you though, that you own best friend fell into the crowd. She shunned you for believing her favorite model would be such a creep. It caused the falling out with her which saddened you to great lengths.
But he was a creep! He was a stupid stupid creep!
“Seriously what?” He titled his head in confusion. He was more focused on looking at your cute uniform rather than looking at your serious expression.
“Can I live one week without you bothering me? I see enough of you with your ads and shows” You walked off, finally sensing that your stomach was begging for food.
“Should I start visiting more so you get used to me? I could cancel my photo shoot tomorrow so I can visit again!” He happily spoke, as if you weren’t glaring at him from across the kitchen.
“It’s like you want me to jump off the nearest bridge” You mumbled to yourself, grabbing cereal from the cabinet.
“Don’t say that! You know I don’t like it when you say things like that” He frowned, hastily making it so you were in his arms instead of preparing your regular bowl of cereal. You could sense his warm touch wrap around your body.
“Okay, I won’t say it again. Just let me go so I can finish making my cereal” You pointed towards your empty bowl and cereal box. You were tempted to fight him and kick him out but you’ve learned to be more docile when it comes to him.
He’d probably just break in either way.
“Mkay! Y’know you can use my card any time you want, I already told you that” He kissed the top of your head. He was wondering why you always bought low quality food when you went grocery shopping. He offered to pay for everything you needed but he didn’t see anything new in your kitchen.
“I’m fine, I’ll buy my own stuff” You grabbed milk from the fridge and poured in your cereal first. You didn’t understand why he was so adamant about spoiling you.
“But.. uhm.. look at your pantry, it’s so empty! Surely you should buy more!” He was trying to be careful with his words in case you’d find it offensive for him to be pointing out the fact that you weren’t buying a lot of food.
“It’s called a minimum wage job, have you heard of that before?” Your words dripped with sarcasm as you put away the cereal and milk. He stood there awkwardly wondering if your question was rhetorical.
“…yes?” He tried smiling but it ended up as a half smile that seemed unsure just like him.
“I also have dignity and I’d like to keep it for as long as I can” You grabbed your bowl of cereal and sat down on the small dinner table to eat. It was afternoon but who says you can’t eat cereal at other times?
“I’m just trying to spoil you! I know you don’t like it but I want you to be safe and happy. If you’re not eating as much because of money then I can’t rest until I know you have a pantry full of food!” He whined, clinging onto you as if he was your worried boyfriend.
“I’m not your partner or friend. Stop worrying about me and stop coming over” You were tired of being stern with your requests that he continually ignored if it was limiting him from seeing you.
“Well, we’re something right? I talk to you and you talk to me!” He sat next to you, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. His cute and clingy demeanor made you even more annoyed. It paid to be pretty like him, you often caught yourself being persuaded.
“So people who talk to each other?” You stared blankly at him, trying not to fall for his puppy look.
“Who also hang out, kiss, and cuddle!” He brought you into his lap, nuzzling against your face.
“I told you not to bring that up! That was just because I was feeling lonely that day” You groaned in embarrassment that he mentioned that.. situation.
“You were so adorable when you asked me to cuddle, I thought it was a dream! And your shy little nuzzles against my chest” He grinned, reminiscing about the sweet moment.
“I’m not listening anymore!” You stormed off into your room, being followed by your regular shadow. He couldn’t help but laugh and tease you more along the way. You ended up getting your revenge by beating him up with one of your giant pillows afterwards.
You laid in bed wondering what you were going to do about him as he pulled you closer into his soft hug. You hated him so much! But maybe not as much as you did before.
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soullessdianthus · 8 months
Text
𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝!𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠
A/N: I picture him in his early 40s in this, daddy is a state of a mind, no? Can you imagine having such an older man as König taking care of you? UNDER THE SAME ROOF??? I WOULD UGH-- (´ཀ`」 )
Also, my requests are open again! You can send it here!
Warnings: manipulation, slight yandere?, naive!reader, dear jesus bunch of nasty smut (voyeurism, somnophilia, fingering, spanking, daddy kink)
Poorly translated German, correct me if needed!
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RENDER BY DWISESZ ON TWITTER
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✧°.  König’s schedule throughout the months was irregular. Sometimes he would stay at home for a few weeks and then go on a three month deployment. Another couple of days at home and another “work trip”.
✧°.  And his home was left behind unattended, food in the freezer going to waste, dust covering his favorite armchair. König had a guest bedroom, so why wouldn’t he rent the spare room to someone, who would keep an eye on the house while he’s gone?
✧°.  The price and location was tempting, so you reached out to the landlord for more details – you were a college student, who wanted something more independent than living with her parents. 
✧°.  König took a quick look at your profile picture and accepted the deal, because girls like you shouldn’t cause any problems, right? No parties, no boys invited over. You seemed to be a well behaving girl.  
✧°.  But his struggles only truly started when you finally moved in. König would find the return to the house more thrilling than ever.
✧°.  To show your gratitude to the man who took you in, you kept the house clean with no sign of dust or webs. On a regular basis you were baking cakes or cookies, so the aroma of the pastry filled the rooms. Little did you know that it only fed the housewife fantasy of your landlord.
✧°.  König would take less hours at his work and preferred to fill the reports (or any other documentation) from the home office. Just so he could observe you shuffling through the house wearing those sweat or biking shorts. Skimpy material rolling up the curve of your plump, young ass.
✧°.  Each time you passed the living room where he was working, you sent him a cute smile. You were just trying to be polite!
✧°.  König would try to spend as much time with you as possible, even if that meant you weren’t able to finish your homework on time. :( You would watch some movies together or go grocery shopping. Quickly this thing between the two of you became more than just landlord and tenant dynamics. Although you were quite clueless, it was your first ever rental!
✧°.  One evening, when you came back from late classes, you saw him sitting on a couch holding a glass of beer. Large thighs spreaded open as he kept watching the football game on the TV. And before you knew it, König pulled you onto his lap. He wanted you to watch the game with him!
✧°.  “Sit nice and pretty here, ja?” 
✧°.  He pulled you so roughly against him, that you had to prop against his muscular chest, before your face was pushed into it.
✧°.  “König, but I have to –”
✧°.  “Sush, none of that. Now, show some gratitude to your host, schatzi.”
✧°.  König certainly had more than one beer that evening, but you had none of the alcoholic beverages. You were highly aware when he started rubbing your hip and thigh and found it… really nice. Although, nothing more! It was just a friendly gesture, right? 
✧°.  You were so oblivious to his attraction towards you that his hardened length underneath your ass was a pair of keys in your naive mind. 
✧°.  Later that night, when you fell asleep in your bed (technically his), wearing only a shirt and panties, he came into your bedroom and jerked himself off right by your bedside. 
✧°.  König could only imagine how your pretty lips would wrap around his fat shaft, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. And do you know what fueled that imagination? You sucking on a cherry lollipop right in front of him earlier that day.
✧°.  During the next week, he kept peeping at you when taking a shower or changing your clothes with the doors kept ajar. How silly of you, standing just in sight of such a perverted man as König.
✧°.  It would only fuel his fantasies, when he continuously pumped his hips into his own palm covered in precum and his spit. König’s cock would twitch each time, when he imagined how divine it would finally feel to fuck your tight pussy sensless. His special, little guest. 
✧°.  König would welcome you with open arms, when you came back from the university one day, crying, because you didn’t pass one of your classes. But you were working so hard and you felt poorly about yourself now! :( 
✧°.  He would offer you to lay on a couch with him until you calmed down and you accepted, because König was such a good landlord!
✧°.  You didn’t even protest when this innocent act of affection turned into dirty desires. He laid beside you, one hand stroking your wet cheek and the other wandering under your panties. 
✧°.  You gasped loudly, when he slid one finger inside of you, explaining to you it will help you relax. It shouldn’t, but it felt so good! You wanted to press your eyes together in shame, but König patted you cheek with his hand.
✧°.  “Hey, hey, look at me, schätzchen. Yeah, that’s right, you feeling better now, yes?”
✧°.  And you nodded your head, thoughts focused on that pleasurable feeling between your legs, when he added a second finger. 
✧°.  König wouldn’t talk much about what you two did on the couch, but he definitely became more open about his desires. Since you allowed him to fuck you with his fingers, König would place his big hands all over his precious roommate – shoulders, hips, thighs or a playful slap on the ass, when you were removing the cookies from the oven. 
✧°.  One night, you came back really late (definitely after the curfew) and really drunk. He had to help you walk to your bedroom, because you were stumbling all the time, you could have hurt yourself in that state!
✧°.  You mumbled that you wanted to sleep, when König removed your clothes gently (only leaving you in your lacey, pink panties). He couldn’t believe how lucky he got, when you clung to his chest, searching for stability (in his eyes it was a reach for his attention).
✧°.  König helped you get into your cozy bed and slipped under the covers beside you. This time, he didn’t need to do much as your drunken form quickly found the way to his bulky chest. You nuzzled your spinning head onto his warm body and dozed asleep. 
✧°.  König had to take a few deep breaths, when your plump, naked breasts got squeezed between your and his chest. He didn’t want to jerk off right then, perhaps, you might help him, when you wake up?
✧°.  The next time you wanted to go to a club or simply for drinks with your friends, he stood there in the hallway with a strong hand placed onto the doors. König wasn’t letting you anywhere, you were supposed to spend time with him! :( 
✧°.  “I can take care of myself, you know.”
✧°.  “Oh, like the last time? When you pulled me into your bed, schatzi? Naked?”
✧°.  Your extremely tall and large landlord scolded you, twisting slightly the truth about your drunken state. But it was for your own good, why would you seek fun out there, when you had him in the reach of your hand?
✧°.  Despite your age difference, older and more experienced König would definitely take his time with you.
✧°.  “I–I…”
✧°.  You let go, as embarrassment burned like a flame inside, then furiously went back to your room. 
✧°.  Later, König would come to you and offer a bear hug, which you politely accepted, because he was your good host. But still was a bit mad at him for refusing to let you have fun outside the house.
✧°.  Soon enough, when he went for another deployment, you split on unclear terms. The colonel noticed you began acting bratty, disrespecting his house rules. But nonetheless left the home in your hands.
✧°.  When he came back, unexpectedly a few days earlier, you were still at university. You were such a smart girl. <3
✧°.  König couldn’t help himself but to rummage through your stuff. He sniffed your currently worn pajamas, looked at your books and then he opened the drawer with your underwear. To his surprise one specific object caught his attention. Could this be…?
✧°.  You were surprised to see his massive, trekking shoes on the shelf, when you returned home that evening. You were even more surprised, when you noticed your landlord sitting in his armchair, playing with something between his thick fingers. 
✧°.  “My, my… I leave for a few weeks and you already behave so… shamelessly. I thought of you better, schätzchen.”
✧°.  “I–I don’t know, what your talking about, I–”
��°.  OhmyGod
✧°.  He was holding your bullet vibrator that was so small in his grasp!
✧°.  “You didn’t even bother to hide this thing.” 
✧°.  He lied on purpose, but you played along that lie. Perhaps, because you were so embarrassed that he found your toy! How could you be so silly and leave it on display? 
✧°.  You rushed to take it out of his grasp, but he acted quicker than you. König pulled you into his wide lap, forcing you ass in the air. The hem of your tennis skirt rolled up, exposing your bum to your landlord!
✧°.  “Seriously, a toy, schatzi? Were you really this needy? Maybe that’s why you failed your class, hm?”, he mocked your vulnerability. 
✧°.  Before you could even explain yourself to him, a loud smack echoed in the living room and a stinging pain on your bare ass blinded your thoughts. König continued to spank your plump bum until it turned red and you were sobbing incoherently. 
✧°.  He said disappointedly, “And I thought you were a grateful guest… All I did was for your good, you know that?”
✧°.  He rubbed your irritated flesh for a minute, before continuing the punishment. König licked his lips, already knowing how you would show him how much you missed your caring landlord. 
✧°.  “Are you going to be a good girl for me, ja?”
✧°.  “YES! Yes, I will! ‘m sorry!” 
✧°.  You agreed, face flustered in shame, when you felt how wet your panties had become. The Austrian bear lifted you up from his lap and made you straddle his large bulge, pressing onto the fabric of his cargo pants. 
✧°.  “Ride daddy nicely and I might forgive you, okay? Do you remeber what I told you, when you moved in? If you ever need anything, come to me. You’re a smart girl, you know I’m gonna take care of you, no?”
✧°.  “Y-Yes, König. I know.”, you sobbed, his big palm wiping your tears away. 
✧°.  Quickly you forgot about all of his alarming and obsessive behavior, when he filled you with his fat cock. The delicious feeling of him stretching your little pussy, dwarfed all of your worries.
✧°.  He was merciless that night, König didn’t even give you time to adjust to his size. Colonel’s strong hands gripped your hips and guided them to start moving. So you swayed your hips under that slutty skirt, you bought just for him. <3
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animeshotsh · 3 months
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I would know | Husk x Child!Reader | Small AngelDust x Child!Reader |
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Summary: Your life in hearth was not good and your learned too fast to know when someone its hurting
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, death, suicide. HuskxAngel ship too. Grammar mistakes.
Requested
You were never too sure why you ended in hell or how. First, you were just a child, a regular one, you wondered what sins you could have done to end here. Was life not hard enough on you that you did not deserve eternal peace?
Was because of your death? But even that was a mistery to you. You cant remember if you were killed or if you took away your life. Then again, your life was a hell more than what the actual hell was. You would tremble when thinking of it.
Thats why you faked your emotions, the happy smile, the jokes, everything was a mask so no one would think what had happened to you. But one day after one exterminator day you met Charlie the princess of Hell. And she saw you, the Real you, she soon took you under her wings and roof, her dream of redemtion for sinners filled your heart.
So you stayed and met others along the way.
Husk was at first a grummpy sinner. With no Real care of what was happening in the hotel or with the others. However you found him interesting and started to follow him around (letting Vaggie breath alone for once). It was not a suprise Husk was not in for the task of taking care of a child specially one that could move without making a noise.
Some said it must be demonic power but you are sure you mastered this from the time you were alive.
Sneaking behind Husk was now your personal activity. Alastor found it better than the average comedy and would alwasy be around when you were doing it.
So far you had sneaked behind Husk at least 29 times. And over these times you two kind of got close. Husk never had kids when being alive, so he was not sure if you saw him as a father figure or a older brother, whatever it was he made sure you were on the right path. As right it could be in hell, at least he would make sure you were safe outside and inside the hotel.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
He found what happened to you one night. His left ear twitched as movement came, he caught you getting a pissed look from you.
"You are losing your touch kid" he said letting you down "and you should be asleep, the princess will know if you passed your bed time"
"Well, im not tired so lets do something!! We can watch tv all night"
"Alastor said that he would destroy the hotel if there was one single tv in here" Husk reminded them
"Oh right....then teach me to play poke!"
"And why would you like to learn that?" Husk asked looking down on you who was looking away from him
"I dont want to think now, If my mind its in another task...or seeing something...then I dont think"
Husk could hear the sad tone in your voice. He got down to your eye level making you face him.
"And what is it that you dont want to think about?"
You kept your eyes on him then tackled him for a hug. Husk hissed in suprise but stopped when he started to hear your cries. He slowly moved you, making you sit on him so he could wrap his amrs and wings around you.
"Shh kid, no one is going to hurt you in here, im gonna make sure of it"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
After that time Husk and you got closer, others noticed it but said nothing about it. Charlie went "aww" once she saw you being carried by Husk on his shoulders while he serverd drinks.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
You also grow to be close with Angel Dust, at first he too was not too happy about having a kid around but soon your jokes and personality got him. He also loved to see you pranking Husk.
And his little piggy loves you!! He wants to get you one too.
But you soon noted, something was off about Angel. You started to see times when his persona would change, how he would ignore others worries over him and just smile it off.
Oh....that was what you used to do. But you never had to face someone doing it too.
~☆~☆~☆~☆
Of course you went to Husk later on. Him and Angel seemed close so you were 100% sure that Husk would help you.
"You gotta be blunt" Husk said after you explained the situation.
"But...that would hurt him..."
Taking a deep breath Husk faced you.
"Listen kid, people have issues and how they face them its up to them, and how they do it sometimes backfires. Not everybody its going to listen to sweet talk and honey words. You have to be direct and end it there. Its up to them how to act afterwards"
"But...you were not like that to me" you said confused
"Because you are you and Angel its his own persona. You two are different" he responded "listen, i know you want to help him...i want to do it too. Let me try my way and if nothing happens...then we can try yours"
Your eyes got bright with emotion as you nodded.
"Yes!! Lets do it, lets help your boyfriend!!"
Blushing Husk responded "he is not-"
"I see it in the way you look at him" you stated getting a defeated sound from Husk.
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Text
The last few people had logged off the server, leaving it in its burnt, damaged state.
She knew where Gem would be.
Cleo scaled up the ladder and clambered up to the rickety roof of Joel’s tower — where you could look out on the entire server.
Sure enough, Gem was perched on the railing, sitting on the edge with nothing to support her but the wind, staring in the direction of the Secret Keeper.
Cleo looked around at the short cobble walls. Grian had told her that he’d hid away here. Not a bad strategy, overall. You could shut yourself here and forget everywhere else existed.
“Hey, Cleo.”
“Am I that loud?” Cleo joked weakly.
“Who else?”
Cleo watched as the last remains of the green flesh flaked off Gem’s skin, leaving her regular human tones. “No more zombies now, then? Good job, anyway. Killing people left and right.”
“Not you, though.”
“Not me. Only way I’m going out is my way. I’d rather die on my own stupidity than someone else’s callousness.” Cleo allowed a hint of pride to enter her voice. “You were great zombies, though.”
“We weren’t zombies.” Gem turned and hopped down from the railing.
Cleo noticed that unlike the other zombies, or even Scott or Grian, Gem didn’t have a single scratch or injury, save one neat bandage that no doubt was due to Scar’s reckless arrows.
Which meant the blood splattering her face wasn’t her own. “What do you mean?”
“That’s not how zombies work. No offence, Cleo, but most zombies aren’t sentient.”
Cleo blinked. “No worries, I know they aren’t. I kill plenty of them at night.”
“So you should know how they work. They’re mindless. They lurch along, they kill without thinking, they probably bump into trees.”
Gem tilted her head. “They don’t set TNT traps, or betray their teammates, or ask for permission to kill their wife’s perceived murderer.”
Cleo’s mouth was dry. “So you’re saying…”
“I’m saying the apocalypse wasn’t zombies, Cleo. It was human.”
Horribly, incredibly human.
Cleo remembered when they were up on the tower, staring at the others down below, condemning them as monsters.
Somehow, it was better to think of them as a mindless horde and not people she’d been laughing and arguing with a session ago.
Gem was watching her. “You know I’m right. Look at Pearl. Was running from us, convinced we were infected or something but once she realised she had permission to kill, she went in. Even unleashed a warden, or two. That’s how quickly we switch.”
Ironically, Cleo realised, the roles had been swapped this session. The humans were chasing the zombie, but it hadn’t been any different.
“That’s not true,” Cleo said, “It’s not all bad. Did you know, Grian snuck down from this tower to check on his magma pet, and I was there too. And so was Etho. He didn’t kill us.”
Irritation flashed across Gem’s face. “He didn’t kill you? If he had, or, like, told us your location or something, we could’ve all just gone after Scott, and, and, the task would’ve succeeded…”
She trailed off, and looked at Cleo. “Is that the point you’re trying to make here?”
Cleo shrugged.
“Alright, I get it,” Gem grumbled, “No need to rub your holier-than-thou alliance and great morals in my face.”
“Well, no one asked you to put your task over your bandmates.”
Gem didn’t say anything to that.
“It’s not as if I’m exactly a paragon of morality either.” Cleo continued.
“I guess not.” Gem gave a short laugh. “Neither am I. You know, all the murder and stuff? I don’t feel bad! In fact, I feel great. I feel proud of myself for it.”
“…I feel you should be a little less bloodthirsty.”
Gem smiled at Cleo, an innocent, cheerful smile that would have been such if not for the circumstances. “Oh, no.”
Cleo was suddenly feeling very unsafe on the highest platform on the server. She wished Etho was here, or even Grian.
She knew Gem couldn’t take any lives, not now, not when the session was already over. But still…
Cleo raised her sword to stop the axe swing that came, but it was a feint, and her sword hit nothing.
Gem dramatically swung her axe back into her inventory.
“You really thought I would attack you?” Gem said.
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Cleo retorted curtly.
“That’s true,” Gem conceded. “But the curse is just so- it’s so freeing, Cleo? Can’t you see? You could do anything.”
“Uh- no thanks. Session’s over, anyway,” Cleo pointed out.
“That’s true. But I’m still kinda cursed, you know.”
In response, Cleo warily raised her sword. But all that Gem did was deliver a mock salute before logging off with a chirpy “See you next week!”
Cleo stood silently. There had been one zombie on the platform just now. Her.
And thinking about it, she wasn’t sure if there hadn’t been two.
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tcfactory · 4 months
Text
A smile for the master
Okay, what if white lotus Luo Binghe and OG Shen Qingqiu body swap.
The fake cultivation manual does make Luo Binghe qi deviate. Relatively early too, he's still in his white lotus phase. This qi deviation just coincides with one of Shen Qingqiu's many, many deviations and, by some freak twist of luck, swaps their bodies.
The only people who know about this are Yue Qingyuan, Mu Qingfang and the people directly involved, because they can't let word get out about the body swap. Unlike all the regular shenanigans (amnesia, de-aging, animal transformations, etc.) Mu Qingfang has no idea how to approach fixing this. He can't even tell if it is possible to fix it or not. This is such a one-in-a-million thing that there's no precedent.
So for the time being Luo Binghe in Shen Qingqiu's body will be confined to the bamboo house, under some supervision, with the excuse that Shen Qingqiu is still under danger of another qi deviation. And Shen Qingqiu gets to go out and pretend to be Binghe.
He's meant to move into the bamboo house to 'assist his shizun in his recovery' (yeah, right, like anyone would believe that), but the first thing he does once everyone leaves them alone that evening is grab a few things in a qiankun pouch and prepares to leave.
"Where is shizun going?"
"Wipe that pathetic look off my face! I'm sleeping in the woodshed."
"But shizun doesn't have to! This disciple will sleep in the side room, I-"
"I don't care where you sleep in my house. But I'm not sleeping under the same roof as a man, and you currently qualify as such."
It's such a strange thing to say that it sticks with Binghe - does his shizun genuinely feel safer in the woodshed than in the same house with his own body??? - but he is still disoriented and in so much pain that he doesn't have it in him to argue. Mu-shishu said it was not unusual for a severe qi deviation to cause pain, but he hopes it will fade quickly.
The pain doesn't fade by morning. It stays a persistent, sharp ache in his joints that seems to sap the strength from his limbs. Binghe thinks he can cheer himself up by cooking breakfast in shizun's kitchen, but his hands shake and his fingers refuse to bend right. He still scrapes together two servings of palatable congee, which gets him an unreadable look from his returning shizun. You'd think Binghe would be able to read the man's expressions on his own face better, but all he can say for certain is that his face has never made that expression before.
"Shizun, how do you stop the shaking?" Binghe asks tentatively. Shen Qingqiu made tea and brought over a few dry biscuits that looked completely unappetizing to Binghe. He planned to pointedly ignore them in favor of his own, much better food, except he has eaten two spoonfuls of congee and he's suddenly feeling sick. Something on his face must be showing because Shen Qingqiu snatches his bowl away and pushes the biscuits to him instead.
"Eat one, slowly, with the tea. It will help you keep the food down." In Luo Binghe's body his shizun has no problem eating both portions while Binghe nibbles on the biscuit. It's bitter from the herbs, but it does help. "Haven't you learned how to channel qi to stabilize your body? Useless little beast." After a moment his eyes grow wide and he hastily holds up a hand. "Don't try it with my body! The last thing we need is for you to have another qi deviation."
"Even this useless one knows how to direct and circulate his qi, shizun." Binghe tries to pout - it has never worked on his shizun, but maybe he will be more receptive of such tactics when it's his own face - but finds that the muscles of his face are not working as they should.
"Not with my meridians you don't. I thought even the lowliest of outer disciples have heard by now that my cultivation base is ruined." He squints up at Binghe and his glare is no less formidable on a different face. "Little beast. What are you trying to do with my face?"
Binghe has, in fact, reached up and is trying to feel out why he can't move part of his face as he should. "This... is there a scar here?" He's not familiar enough with scars to be sure, but he can feel the slightly different texture of the skin with his fingers as it curves around his cheek and jaw. Strange, he's sure he would have noticed before if his shizun had such a big scar on his face.
Shen Qingqiu slaps his hand away.
"A mule kicked me in the face when I was a child. They put an ointment on it at the time, so it healed well enough that it's no longer visible."
Not visible, but still present. Later, after Shen Qingqiu leaves for Luo Binghe's classes, he stands in front of the bronze mirror to test the range of his expressions and suddenly understands why Shen Qingqiu prefers to hide the lower half of his face behind a fan. The scar tissue tugs on the muscles of his face and makes the way one corner of his mouth moves rather ghastly.
It's not the only scar he has. It takes Binghe until the afternoon to work up the courage to take a bath and he can't help to look at his shizun's body then. The history written into the man's skin is distressing to say the least. Cuts and whip marks, all etched in deep, and burns, so many burns. The most horrifying is on one of his thighs, the muscle and skin deformed where it was burned deep; Binghe has seen kitchen accidents before and this has the look of boiling oil, but it's position and size both speak of intentionality. He can't even imagine what shizun has done to be injured there, so close to an intimate area.
And the crowning jewel of all scars, the one that raises the most questions in Binghe's mind, is the slave brand. Qiu, it reads on the left side of his chest, still clearly legible despite obvious signs that someone tried to ruin it with deep cuts; the character just ate even deeper into the flesh to retain its shape.
He's standing in front of the bronze mirror, staring numbly at the brand while the water goes cold next to him, only snapping out of his stupor when the front door slams open, then closed, then his shizun calls for him. "In here, shizun!"
Shen Qingqiu is in a good mood - the body he's in is strong and healthy, despite everything, and unlike that dolt of a little beast, he knows exactly how to get out of chores - so he doesn't immediately snap at Binghe when he finds him inspecting his body. "It would have been too much of a blessing to expect you to not undress and poke at my flesh the moment you were left alone."
"I just wanted a bath." The face he currently wears doesn't lend itself to his usual tactics, so he simply... doesn't try. It makes him much more tolerable in Shen Qingqiu's eyes. "Begging shizun's forgiveness, I expected him to take longer with this disciple's daily chores."
"Unlike you, I don't have the personality of a doormat. I've done the chores for you and Yingying and then tricked one of your shixiongs into insulting Ming Fan, so he got saddled with the rest." He says it like it's the easiest thing in the world and there's a disapproving edge to it. See, little beast? His eyes say. Why don't you do it this way, it's so easy.
"I don't know what shizun expects from me," Binghe finally says, his frustrations overflowing. "I want nothing more than to cultivate in peace! I used every trick I have ever learned to make the bullies go away, but it only made things worse!" He claws at the slave mark, as if he could rip it from the skin and hand it to Shen Qingqiu. "I thought shizun to be a rich master who would not understand, but shizun has come from a background as lowly as this one's! Shizun should understand! Shizun should-!"
"Shut up. You don't know anything about me." There is no real anger in those words, but Binghe immediately shuts up. Shen Qingqiu regards him with something calculating, until he finally comes to a decision of sorts. He closes his eyes, schools his features and when he opens them again the picture of innocence looks up at Binghe, a harmless white sheep who could do no harm.
It's almost as good as when Binghe does it.
"What did you say your mother's job was?" The moment is gone and Shen Qingqiu arranges his features back into something more comfortable and Binghe, still reeling, answers on autopilot.
"This one's elderly mother was a lowly washerwoman."
"An elderly woman, of a low, but stable position, with no ambitions left in life and no power to protect her son." Shen Qingqiu exhales slowly. "She taught you to smile, hasn't she? To be good and docile to avoid trouble."
"Yes!" Finally, it feels like they are going somewhere, they have found common ground. "My mother taught me that no matter what grief or grudge settles in my heart, I should always-"
"Have a smile for the master," Shen Qingqiu finishes for him. He looks annoyed, but not angry - at least not at Binghe. "Go take that bath." He reheats the water with the touch of his hand and a careful application of qi. "This master has essays to grade."
The hot water is a blessing, but Binghe still hurries to get clean and get dressed again. Shizun, true to his word, is grading essays at the table when Binghe returns. Binghe fidgets with nothing to do while his shizun works, so eventually Shen Qingqiu chases him off to make tea so he can work in peace.
Binghe is just returning when the sect leader arrives. "Qingqiu-shidi, Luo-shizi. I hope everything is going all right so far?"
"Good timing," Shen Qingqiu looks up from the essays with a wolfish expression that makes Binghe's face look almost scary. "Qi-ge, think fast: smile for the master-"
"-Snarl for the wolves-" Yue Qingyuan answers without thinking, something sharp and dark glinting in his usually soft eyes. This minute slip in his mask scares Binghe more than the worst of his shizun's temper.
"-knife for the rivals." Unexpectedly, Shang Qinghua pops his head out from behind the wide bulk of the sect leader. "Why are we reciting the Urchins' Laws?"
Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes at his shidi. "Where this one grew up we said rocks for the rivals, but the sentiment is the same." He gestures for Binghe, who stands frozen in Shen Qingqiu's body, to serve the tea. "What is Shang-shidi doing here?"
"I might have, ah. Overheard? Overheard the situation and I might know an herb that can remedy it. Liu Qingge is already on his way to get it, so it's only a matter of days!" He rubs the back of his neck. "I just wanted to be here when zhangmen-shixiong tells shixiong the good news."
"That's acceptable." Shen Qingqiu takes a sip from his tea, then pushes the essays away in favor of an empty sheet. "Then Shang-shidi can stay and help us remedy a serious shortcoming in disciple Luo's education. It would seem he only learned to smile and never to snarl, leaving him with the appearance of an unfortunately spineless disposition."
"I see." All three adults look at Luo Binghe with pity, even the one currently wearing his body. He takes a big gulp of his tea to get away from their staring and almost chokes from the overwhelming bitter taste.
"It's fine, shizi! I think there are no better people to teach disciple Luo these lessons, so he will learn them in no time!" Shang Qinghua hurries to reassure him.
"That's not- thanking shishu for his encouraging words! It's just this tea is unexpectedly bitter."
The lords all look puzzled. "Bitter? Has Shen-shidi acquired a new blend?"
"As if you could tell," Shen Qingqiu huffs dismissively and takes another sip of his tea. "I don't taste anything wrong with it."
They all turn to Shang Qinghua, who takes a sip and immediately makes a noise of disgust.
"It's been severely over-steeped," he declares, pushing the cup away.
"Interesting." Shen Qingqiu drinks the rest of his tea and shakes his head. "Disciple Luo can't taste bitterness, so he doesn't know when he over steeps the tea."
"This one can taste bitterness, shizun! Mu-shishu's cold medicine-"
"-doesn't count. Even zhangmen-shixiong can tell it's bitter and he has almost completely lost his sense of taste when we were children."
The sect leader has a soft, awkward look on his face and Shang Qinghua stifles a laugh behind his sleeve. "Can confirm! Yue-shixiong once drank an entire undiluted bottle of chili oil on a bet when we were disciples. Luo-shizi is in good company."
Good company indeed. It's strange and a little frightening to see the three untouchable immortal masters acting so human, but Binghe rubs the scar on his face and thinks of masks. The same way Binghe puts on the mask of a meek little lamb every morning, the peak lords put on their own masks each day.
In the fifteen days it takes for Liu-shishu to get the herbs and return, they teach Binghe how to navigate the power plays of the sect in the way only those not born into power know:
A smile for the master (be pleasant and meek and uninteresting in the face of those who can hurt you without consequence, because it's boring to bully docile and uninteresting servants. Bide your time and only plot where they can't see it).
Yue Qingyuan smiles, because he has risen above the rest. Nobody would dare to trample him, so he can wear a smile if he wants; it makes him more approachable. Luo Binghe smiles at him and the sect leader winks back; this comes the easiest to him.
A snarl for the wolves (do not let your peers trample you. You are roughly of equal standing and power, so fight for what you deserve. If someone with only slightly higher standing tries to strike against you and you can get away with it, bite the hand that struck you, so they would think twice before they try again).
Shen Qingqiu was born a wolf and will likely die one, too broken and battered to become a prized, pampered hound. He snarls at the world and wants Binghe to snarl back at him, to show him that he has the determination to make it through. (Urchins who don't learn to bare their teeth when they should all die, trampled in the dirt, and Binghe suspects that his shizun has seen it happen enough times that he has hardened his heart against it.) It comes frighteningly easy, once he tries, and he makes sure to restrain himself so he doesn't become a mirror of his bitter shizun.
A knife for the rivals (be ruthless and deadly to the outsiders who come to harm you and yours. Set aside internal strife in the face of outside threat and sharpen your fangs together; the only good enemy is a dead one).
Binghe doesn't know what to think of Shang Qinghua at first. The An Ding lord has his own flavor of pathetic (it's not quite the same as smiling, he thinks), but Binghe is not a fool. If the sect leader is the smile and his shizun the snarl, then Shang Qinghua is the knife, and his cultivated helplessness is the perfect disguise for his sharp edge.
Out of all three of them, he decides that Shang Qinghua scares him the most.
The day after they are switched back Luo Binghe returns to the bamboo house to report to his shizun.
"So early today, little beast." Shen Qingqiu doesn't look up from the novel he's reading, sprawled carelessly over the couch. Binghe knows that this crack in his shizun's peerless facade is only there for him to see because he has lived in his body for two weeks and knows exactly how much agony he is in day in day out (Binghe did some much less dignified sprawling when he was wearing that body, that's for sure), but it still makes him feel honored, in a way. He's in on a secret none of the other disciples are and it makes him feel... special.
"Ming-shixiong had an unfortunate incident with a hive of wasps and forgot to assign his shidis extra chores."
Shen Qingqiu glances at him over the edge of his book. "Where in the hells have you found wasps this time of the year?"
"I could not say. Shizun will have to ask Shang-shishu."
The set of Shen Qingqiu's mouth shifts. It's not a smile, but it's as close as the man gets and Luo Binghe's heart soars when he sees it. His shizun stands with mesmerizing feline grace and plucks a manual off from his shelf. "Catch." Binghe scrambles to catch the manual, his eyes going wide when he recognizes his shizun's calligraphy. The book is bound in an old cover to make it look used, but the pages and the contents are all brand new. "This master has noticed that disciple Luo's current manual is unsuitable for his cultivation. This one will be a better fit."
"Thank you, shizun!" He turns to walk into the side room, planning to pretend that he belongs here ('sometimes if you are confident enough, you can make others think that you belong somewhere you have no business being', Shang Qinghua said), but he stops dead when his shizun calls after him.
"Where do you think you are going, little beast?"
"To my room, shizun." He brazenly meets Shen Qingqiu's narrowed eyes and carefully gauges the man's mood. He's not angry yet. "This disciple has no place in the dorms, but he got to thinking: wouldn't it reflect badly on our peak and our peak lord if word got out that one of the Qing Jing disciples sleeps in the woodshed? This one is not a man, so he thought shizun would have no opposition against him taking the unused side room in exchange for performing extra chores around the house."
Shen Qingqiu approaches him with an aura like a fierce storm, but Luo Binghe stands his ground. The man wanted him to snarl back; it was time to test the practice of that theory.
"Luo Binghe has done a lot of thinking in the day since we last met."
"Of course. This disciple had years of thoughtlessness to make up for."
Shen Qingqiu exhales sharply; a silent laugh. "Luo Binghe might not be a man yet, but he will grow up to be one. Why should I tolerate his presence?"
"This one might become a man, but only if shizun can't mold him into something better."
"Insolent little beast!" He expects the smack with the fan. It smarts like always and it's likely going to leave a bruise. He doesn't expect the hand on his head, not petting, but... acknowledging. "Go to your room."
Binghe can't restrain the smile that spreads over his face. It earns him another smack, lighter this time, but it's worth it. He sets the new manual down on the bed and starts brewing tea for his shizun, lighting a timer talisman so he doesn't seep the leaves too long.
It took him to walk a mile in his shizun's boots in the most convoluted way possible, but he has finally done it: he found common ground with his master. It could only get better from now.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded
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Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x daughter
Word Count: 1,9k
Synopsis: Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.
Warnings: Let's just pretend this is how it ended okay I'm crying, tried to proofread this but I'm just veeeery depressed right now, this might be the fluff you NEED after today's episode
Request and idea by gorgeous @wifenanami <3
Everything’s a blur. What happened last? How did he get here? His heavy heart skips a beat. Oh, right. His whole left side burns like a thousand fires, arm unable to move even an inch by the way his skin feel like bursting every minute. He was severely burned. The last thing he saw was…
Haibara, then Yuji, and then…
You.
Oh god, just the thought of you kills him from the inside.
“Hey, easy there. Your heartbeat is jumping out of the roof. You need to rest now, Nanami. I already called your wife.”
The smell of burned cigarettes simply takes his breath away, along with the venomous words that leave Shoko’s mouth so casually.
“My wife?”, he coughs out, body desperately trying to sit up.
No, this is impossible. You can’t see him like that, body covered in burn marks with his left eye and hair missing. What will you think of him? And what about your daughter? That sweet innocent angel, will she even be able to recognize him? You, his wife, the love of his wife. Your daughter, the greatest treasure on earth.
Will you be disgusted by his fearful sight?
“Yeah, she’s already on her way. Honestly I wasn’t sure if you’ll make it, so I-“
“Why on earth did you call her?”
Shoko stops in her tracks, laying her head to the side in nothing but confusion.
“Huh, what are you talking about? (y/n)’s your wife after all, why wouldn’t I tell her?”
“What if she doesn’t recognize me? What if she’s freaked out by me? What if she brings our daughter with her?”
His sweaty palms begin to shake uncontrollably. In his life, Kento Nanami lost a lot of things: Jobs, money, people, good friends. But oh god, the thought of losing you, his precious little family. It truly kills him from the inside.
“Stop talking nonsense. Being pathetic doesn’t suit you at all”, Shoko remarks dryly.
His widen eyes dart towards the door, waiting in nothing but thick fear for your arrival. Was this afternoon the last time you looked at him as lovingly as you always did? Was it the last time his daughter kissed his right cheek before she left the house? It can’t be, it just can’t turn out like that.
But you deserve so much better. Damn, you are straight up gorgeous, a woman who turns heads on a regular basis. You need more than a crippled man by your side, more than one half of the man you used to know. He wouldn’t even be mad if your eyes lose the spark they hold for him when you see him today.
“I’m leaving now. Something seems to be off. I’m trying to get back by dinner.”
“Why do you have to go this early? I thought we’d have a little time for ourselves. Since our precious little angel is still at kindergarten and I have the afternoon off…”
Your hands roamed around his broad chest, eyes filled with nothing but affection and love. You were always bad at hiding your feelings, your bright orbs being the centre of his universe. God, how much he wanted to lock the door behind you, how much he longed for your touch. But this sounded serious.
“As much as I’d love to take that offer immediately, the young ones need me, (y/n). But I will return as soon as possible and then we’ll finish what you started.”
“Promise it”, you demanded, a small understanding smile decorating your delicate lips while he held your body so tightly against his.
“I promise it. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
One last longing kiss on your forehead. One last kiss before he left your house with a last “I love you” shouted into thin air.  
“Damn”, he hisses through gritted teeth, pain pulsating through his whole body, taking his sight.
What is his life worth without you in it?
-(y/n)’s POV-
“Mommy, I’m scared.”
“Hey, hold your head up high, angel. Everything will turn out alright, okay? Daddy is a hero, after all”, you reassure your daughter softly while secretly wiping away a falling tear.
When Shoko called you a few minutes ago, your feet begin to carry you on their own, heart hammering against your aching chest. Your loving husband, the man who gifted you with the precious daughter who holds your hand tightly. She didn’t tell you what happened to him, how he feels. But her tone was as urgent as never before, making you storm down the dark streets of Tokyo in pouring rain until you finally arrived at Jujutsu High, opening the well-known doors to the hospital wing with trembling hands.
Please, let him be alright. Maybe injured, but alive. Maybe distressed, but all in all fine.
Please, let your husband be alright.
You wander down the cold hallways, eyes roaming around the area in a desperate attempt to spot your husband somewhere between the countless injured people. Where is he? Where did they put him?
Suddenly, your orbs get stuck on a wave of pink hair.
“Yuji?” you breathe out.
“Mommy, there’s Yuji!”, the excited voice of your little daughter next to you cries out, already on her way to storm towards the pink-haired boy.
You can’t hold back. Out of instinct you follow her tiny feet, embracing the boy in front of you in a tight hug.
“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me you feel well”, you whisper into his ear.
In an instant, tears start to swell up his eyes, soaking through the fabric of your elegant autumn dress. Your heart shatters into a million pieces, hands gently stroking through his hair.
“I’m not. I’m far away from feeling well, (y/n)”, he cries against your neck, letting himself fall completely against your frame.
Oh Yuji. You hate to see him like that, his thick tears falling like the pouring rain outside.
“I’m sorry for letting Nanami-sensei down, I’m sorry for all the things I did, I-“
“Don’t talk any further. I’m sure you did your best, Yuji. And I know Kento is very proud of you. Please, get some rest now, okay? Did Shoko already check on you? Hey, do you want to stay with me tonight?”
“You can sleep in my room!” your daughter suggests in an instant, hugging Yuji’s leg while looking up at him with doe eyes.
“Thank you, I’m okay. You should look after Nanami-sensei. After all you’re here because of him and not because of me, right?”
“I will always look after you, Yuji. But yes, I’d really like to see my husband right now”, you reply tenderly.
“Is my dad alright?”
“He’s in room 018 down the hall. Please…tell him I’m sorry”, Yuji mutters.
“There is nothing to be sorry about, thank you for your help, Yuji. Come on darling, let’s go see daddy.”
You let out your shaky breath, hand holding onto the doorknob. Finally. You will definitely pay Yuji a visit later on. But know, you have to focus on him. Finally, you’re able to see your husband again.
“Kento, I’m here-“
“Don’t look at me. Get out and never come back”, his harsh voice instructs you.
There he sits, back faces towards you will a white cloak covering his upper body. Your mind begins to race, his punitive tone being to unusual. Not even when discussing, your husband ever turned this cold. What has gotten into him?
“Hi daddy!” your daughter greets her father with all excitement.
His heart breaks in an instant. Why? Why on earth do you have to be here? And why did you have to bring your daughter with you? Why do you have to see him like that?
“I am not the man you fell in love with anymore, (y/n).”
The bitterness in his voice makes you squint your eyes while walking towards him.
“What are you talking about, Kento? I might love you even more after you survived this hell”, you reply in an instant.
“Daddy, what happened to your face?”
Like in slow motion he turns around, revealing severe burns on the left side of his body and his eye covered in bandages. Your heart skips a beat. Oh god, what happened to your poor husband?
“Who did this to you, love?”
“It doesn’t matter how or who. But I understand that I’m not the man you married anymore. I am only half of the man I used to be. So if you want to leave me behind, if you want to take care of our daughter alone-“
He is forced to stop mid-sentence by the way his little daughter presses her tiny body onto his lap, hugging him as tightly as never before. And your gaze that makes time stand still. Your gaze that isn’t filled with disgust like he imagined.
No, your look holds nothing but love and gratitude.
“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see that you are well. When Shoko called me I thought we’ll might lose you. Kento, I…I love you with all my heart. The thought of letting you go, the thought of never seeing you again. I’m so glad.”
And then you sprint towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck carefully with your loving gaze never leaving him.
All pain seems to vanish, nothing else but you matter. Your eyes always tell the truth, he knows all too well. And right now, they scream at him in nothing put the pureness of love while a tear runs down your smiling delicate mouth.
“Now you look like a hero, daddy”, his daughter mumbles against his chest, smiling up at him so widely that even Kento Nanami can’t hold back any longer.
“Because he is, sweetheart. Your dad is a hero”, you clarify with shaky voice, pressing a kiss against his right cheek.
“You aren’t disgusted? Even though I look nothing like the man you fell in love with an never will?”, you mutters.
Gently, your hand caresses his uninjured cheek.
“Nothing will ever distress my love for you. No scar in the world will stop me from loving you with all my heart. I’m so glad you came back to me alive. Nothing else matters.”
“I think you look cool, daddy!”
A single tear rolls down his cheek. For the first time in his life, he isn’t able to keep his composure any longer. A tear of joy, a tear of gratitude. Of course, Nanami was always very aware of what a wonderful woman you are and how well you cared for his little daughter as well. But oh, seeing both of you with your arms wrapped around him, gazing at him with nothing but love and tenderness in your orbs…
Your eyes never lied at him.
How does he even deserve this? How does a simple man like Kento Nanami deserve such a loving wife and daughter made of pure gold?
“We need a cool name for you now, daddy.”
“Daddy first needs all his energy to get well again, sweetheart. But yes, you are right. After all, every hero has a special name, right?”, you reply, chuckling over your very own falling tears.
“I’m not a hero, darling”, Nanami contradicts, running his hand through his daughter’s hair softly.
“But to me you are, daddy. And to mommy too.”
“Indeed. And when all of this is over, I’ll take you to Malaysia”, you confirm, cuddling against his chest while resting your eyes.
“Malaysia, huh? Sounds great…”
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96
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steveshairychest · 1 year
Text
Fashion designer Steve, who accepts a contract to have Rockstar Eddie Munson wear his designs in the latest addition of vogue, but the thing is, he hates Eddie. Hates his cocky smile, his music, the way he called Steve 'doll' the first time they met at some celebrity's birthday party made his skin crawl. But Steve isn't stupid. Eddie's hot, popular and Steve's latest line would look amazing on him. This is the only reason he accepts the deal. If people saw Eddie wearing his designs, they would buy them. Plain and simple.
Steve spends all morning before the shoot dreading having to deal with loud, obnoxious Eddie Munson. He chain smokes on the roof of his studio and tries to remind himself of all the pros of this shoot, of how influential Eddie is. The cons are way longer than the pros.
It's barely past 8am when the studio doors open and in walks the cause of his current headache, but there's something different about this man nervously walking into his studio to the one he's so used to seeing and avoiding at parties. There's no dramatic entrance, no tight leather pants and way too much eye-liner. There's just this... guy. He's in fucking sweatpants and what looks like a pyjama shirt that's been worn way too much, and his hair is tied up in a loose bun that shows off all the earrings he isn't wearing.
"Hi, I'm Eddie." He sticks out his hand politely for a hand shake and Steve is so shocked. He may have squeezed his hand a bit too tightly. "I'm super excited for the shoot! I love your designs." He's smiling at Steve but it's soft, genuine, gentle. It lacks the severity, the cockiness of the smiles he's seen before.
"Uh, thanks." Steve says dumbly and just walks away to the rack of clothes he has picked out for Eddie. "It's just me and you today. Is that okay with you? I work better when it's just me and the model." Steve takes all of his own photos, makes all his designs, does all the make-up and set design. In this industry, he's learned that if you want something done right, you need to do it yourself.
When Steve turns back around, Eddie is standing in the middle of the studio, awkwardly twisting the fabric of his shirt while rocking back onto the balls of his feet. "Yep, that's cool. It's totally cool. Cool as." His cheeks are bright red and he keeps looking around the empty studio, looking anywhere but at Steve.
"Are you nervous?" Steve asks. Nervous and Eddie Munson don't seem like two things that go together in Steve's mind. He's seen Eddie walk out onto a stage in front of thousands of people and thrust against a microphone while singing about sex. But doing a shoot alone with Steve makes him nervous?
"Yeah, you could say I'm a little nervous." He chuckles awkwardly and twirls a loose strand of hair that has fallen from the bun. "I've kind of always wanted to do a shoot with you and I'm terrified I'm going to fuck it up."
That's.. not what Steve was expecting.
"Oh." He says simply, not quite sure what to say to something like that.
"Did I just fuck it up?" Eddie drops the piece of hair and the absolute horror on his face causes Steve to smile.
He shakes his head and hands Eddie an armful of clothes. "Go get changed, pretty boy. You haven't fucked up, if anything you've just secured a permanent spot on my roster." He looks Eddie up and down once. "I like this version of you."
Eddie laughs. "You like my pyjamas?"
"No, you. You seem more real, less, no offence, douchey."
Eddie shrugs and nods in agreement, a few more strands of brown curls fall free. Steve will have to fix that. He wants Eddie's hair up for the shoot. He wants to be able to see every facial expression when Steve tells him how good he is. At posing, that is.
"Being a regular dude isn't what sells albums, unfortunately. So, I've gotta play the part. I've gotta sell sex and make myself seem otherworldly, untouchable, so that people will want me, want my music." He says this with a shrug, acts like it's just a casual thing to say. Steve can see that it's more than that though, can see how much Eddie dislikes having to play pretend to get people to like him.
He nods over to the small dressing room. "You don't have to be anyone else today. I just want Eddie. Only wear what you're comfortable in. I'll order us some breakfast, yeah?" He tries to make Eddie feel comfortable, tries to release some of the tension that had settled in the air by being friendly, a lot friendlier than he normally is with celebrity models. He usually tries to keep a distance from them.
"Pizza?" Eddie asks hopefully.
Steve scrunches up his nose and raises an eyebrow in question. "For breakfast? Really?" That didn't surprise him at all. Eddie's a rockstar. He's probably never had a balanced meal in his life.
Steve ignores the little voice in his head that whispers I could cook for him, make sure he's eating well and looking after himself.
"Yes, really. Extra anchovies, please."
"I've changed my mind. You've fucked it up. Go home."
Steve hears Eddie cackle as he slams the dressing room door shut and it's a surprisingly nice sound. Not as grating and obnoxious as the fake laugh he'd been subjected to at a party last year, it's a warm, almost melodic sound and it makes Steve's lips twitch into a smile.
Maybe this shoot won't be as torturous as he'd thought it would be.
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princessbrunette · 9 days
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stepbro!jj 😩😩😩😩 i’d be playing footsies with him at the breakfast table in the morning, acting all coy like he didn’t bend me over his bed last night
i rlly love the idea of reader being the horny sick n twisted one whilst jj is trying desperately to cling onto his morality <333:
•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•
jj was not nonchalant by any stretch of the word, but now sat at the breakfast table — your cunt still aching from the way he’d fucked you through the night, he was seeming to play it incredibly cool and collected. no trace of a knowing smile or secretive glances, just his regular behaviour, sat reclined in his seat wearing his usual get up and a backwards hat. the dismissal would have maybe hurt if it wasn’t turning you on a little.
“i’m headin’ downtown for that AA meetin’. load of horse shit but ‘least i’m tryin’.” luke maybank chats as he messily spreads butter on his toast at the counter, taking a moment to lick some off his thumb. your mother is also rushing around the kitchen ready to head out on her own shift at work— you’re avoiding eye contact with her the most, more shameful of the acts you’d commit under the shared roof only a few hours prior.
“well, we are all proud anyways.” she praises, looking around at you and jj for contribution. you nod, and jj clears his throat, shuffling closer to the table opposite you on his chair.
“yeah, real proud pops.” you can tell it’s difficult for him to say from the way he looks down at his food as he says it.
“don’t get sappy on me, squirt.” luke’s words come muffled through a cheekful of toast, and soon your mother begins to fire overbearing questions at him about the recovery course he’s taking. as they talk, you zone out — eyes flickering to jj who is spooning up soggy cereal onto a spoon.
things felt very familial during moments like this. the whole family going about their regular morning routines, jj and yourself sat opposite at the table like a regular old brother and sister duo. you knew you were sick in the head from wanting your step brother in the first place, and now you were secretly fucking him — the idea that he was able to sit opposite you without a soul knowing he was balls deep earlier on was turning you on once more.
you glance over at luke and your mother, seeing them wrapped up in their own conversations — and you toe at the entrance of jj’s jeans, running your foot along the inner side of his calf. when he looks up at you through a heavy brow, cheek still full with cereal you can tell he’s warning you to stop — but knowing he couldn’t verbally express this, and that any vision of your feet was obstructed by the long gingham table cloth — you felt obliged to continue. no one even notices when jj winces and you giggle, too stuck in their own conversation.
you manage to stretch your leg to get your foot in his lap, briefly rubbing at his cock before he grips your ankle and throws it off him, angrily licking his lips and tensing his jaw, doing a double take at the parents when they turn their heads, the attention attracted by your whiny and dramatic ‘ow!’
luke scoffs out a laugh, walking towards the kitchen exit, shaking his head and spitting into a tin waste bin by the door. you truly wondered what your mother saw in him. “kids, huh. who’d have ‘em.” he comments before exiting, making jj cringe at the general insinuation that the two of you were in any way related, or kids.
your mother is quick to follow, barely sparing the two of you a glance. “i can drop you off some lunch if you’re going to be all day, i finish early and —” her voice trails off before the two of you hear her yell out a goodbye to you and the door closes. jj barely waits for them to be gone to push heavily out of his chair, letting it scrape on the floor and wander over to your side, gripping your jaw from where he stands beside your seat, forcing you to look up at him.
“do you think this is funny? like — i’m almost certain you got some weird fetish for wanting to be caught but i don’t, alright — quit bein’ so obvious.” he scolds before letting you go, quickly lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair as he wanders to the counter to cool off and pour himself a coffee. he was already dressed, set to meet the pogues a little later whilst you wandered around in tiny pyjama shorts and a thin tank top that made him wanna slap you.
you giggle despite his sternness and push out your chair to follow him, poking him in the back as you speak. “oh c’mon jayj, s’just a little fun. no one noticed anyway. you’re acting like i got under the table n’made out with your dick. not a bad idea for next time actually.” you muse jokingly and he all but slams his coffee mug back down to whip around to face you.
“y’know i can just like, confiscate everything i’ve been doin’ for you. s’not hard to find pussy, and if you wanna keep actin’ like an actual annoying little sister i’m gunna start treating you like one.” he ticks his head, squinting in irritation and your eyes widen in faux offence and fear.
“aw, don’t do that to me jj. i thought you liked playing with me.” you pout, and oddly — despite knowing you were playing games with him, it makes him soften the tiniest bit, shoulders falling a centimetre or so.
“well, look— i do…” he rolls his eyes and you smile. taking your hands, you push your tits together, looking up at him with mocking babydoll eyes.
“yeah, just like playing with your lil sis too much, huh?” you coo and he yanks your hands off yourself, tongue in his cheek — clearly losing his patience a little.
“nah, keep it up. you’re not getting shit from me anymore i’m dead serious.” he raises his voice a little, that southern twang jumping out a little extra and you giggle elatedly at the threat. you spin around, pressing your ass to his crotch and looking over your shoulder.
“nuh-uh, you like this view too much.” you tease before your jaw drops, mocking quiet ‘uh-uh-uh-uh’ moans as you repeatedly thump your ass against him, the blonde watching with a deadpan, unimpressed expression and arms folded over his chest. he goes to say something, but the sudden banging of the front door closing wipes the amused expression off your face quicker than he can and you jump up straight, looking like a deer caught in headlights when your mother walks back through the door.
“forgot my keys.” she shakes her head before her eyes land on the two of you standing near eachother, jj looking smug and you looking guilty. “everything… okay?” she raises an eyebrow at the weird atmosphere.
“yes! yeah everything’s fine.” you squeak, sounding oh so innocent and afraid. jj snorts, turning back around to the counter and continuing to pour his coffee.
“well alright, see you guys later.” she smiles before disappearing once more, leaving you looking bashful.
once she’s gone, jj glances over his shoulder at you and pouts, barely concealing his grin.
“aw, that scare ‘ya, lil sis?”
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