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afewproblems · 8 months

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Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask".

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?'

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?"

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?"

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged".

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window.

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?"

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night.

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack.

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb.

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street.

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake.

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?"

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything.

If anything, Eddie has more questions.

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot.

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue.

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?"

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?"

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone.

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him".

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt".

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.

And Wayne would never hurt him.

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse".

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…"

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?"

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday".

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos.

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end.

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again.

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!"

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers.

"Dustin?"

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 1 year

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Yandere Best Friend

Tw: childhood abuse, divorced parents, bullying, violence, angstt, parental neglect

ageless blogs n minors DNI blease tq <3

my masterlist

hi guys after a long hiatus i come back , coping mechanism time

i wrote this like from 11pm to 3am in a frenzy so dont exepct much , ridden wih typos, contradiction,grandma misrake and idk if the reader here is fully gender neutral or i accidentally sprinkled some afab in there

thersras like a part 2 to this so eyah stayetuned

enjoys

He was there from the very beginning, that quiet boy from elementary that you shared your sandwich with when no one bats an eye at him.

He was quiet, you were considered uninteresting. Both of you are somewhat outcasts and the other children held no interest towards you and him. Perfect match for each other, instant best buddies, bonded by mutual loneliness.

Well, maybe, not instant. He was weary and so were you, it took a while before you gained his trust. He made sure you didn't stuff nasty, gritty bugs in that sandwich like how all the other kids would do. You made sure he didn't accept it just to throw it in your face.

Once it was established that you didn't add an extra ingredient and he isn't going to play bread frisbee, the door to a long and strong friendship was established. He doesn't have much to say, but he's never short on kind gestures when it comes to you. Are your bags heavy? Let him carry them, he's a strong boy; he drinks his milk and gets his healthy amount of sleep. You forgot to do your 5th grade long division homework? He is going to swap his completed homework sheets with your empty ones, he's okay with being scolded. He has some stupidly thick skin from what goes on at home.

Your yoyo is really cool, you said. You own that yoyo now. No, really, it's okay. He doesn't really need it and it made you happy when you had it in your small hands. Yes, it took him months of begging his busy, overworked, broken, divorced, struggling, knee-deep in debt dad and a couple of missed lunches to get that shiny yoyo, but he loves seeing your surprised expression and dazzling smile.

Oops, you spilled your drink all over another classmate's book, or you broke a window, or you dented a teacher's car. It doesn't matter how many people witness it, it doesn't matter what you say, he's responsible and will gracefully accept all repercussions and punishments even if that means receiving a couple more ugly bruises on his body that night.

Who doesn't like candy? He sure loves them. That's why, he uses up all his already scarce pocket money to buy you some. You protest, he's confused, don't you like candy? Yes, he knows he won't be eating a lot these few weeks because he can't afford it, but don't you like candy?

Are your hands dirty from eating all that chocolate? Here, use his white shirt as a napkin. No, really, it's okay! He's your friend, he would do anything for you... are your shoes muddy too?

Happy birthday! It's a very special day for you and him too, that's why, he saved up enough to buy you a tasty cake and a pair of beautiful promise rings made up of gold! Isn't that cool? Don't worry about how he got the money and please ignore the giant, bloodied cotton gauze on his head, please ignore his black eye, please ignore the strange burn marks on his limbs. His extra injuries are due to... him falling off a bike. You know that's not true. That's not how he got them. He is going to be really sad if you don't accept his gifts, better just shut up, smile, say thank you, kiss the boo-boos away, stuff your face with delicious cake and wear the damn ring.

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, good night, goodbye, I love you and all the other greetings are something you hear everyday from him. Hm, the teachers are complaining that he isn't that polite to them or to the other children, all they get are silent blank stares at best, a scowl and a spitting hiss at worst.

Halloween's here, you're dressed up as a generic bedsheet ghost because its the cheapest to do. While he's dressed up as a horror movie survivor. Wow, the cuts, tattered clothes, blood, abuse marks and limping walks really sold the costume. But you and him both know very well that these aren't done using makeup or prosthetics.

You and him went on trick and treating quietly.

Aww, you both are so adorable. Candies for days. Your pumpkin buckets filled up quick, that's because your friend keeps piling his candy into yours.

Aren't chocolate bars his favorite? Yes, of course. They're so expensive, delicious and very unafforable. But why does he keep giving them to you and leaving none for himself? Because they're everyone's favorite, including yours, duh!

Such a young gentleman, he is the type to lay his coat over a puddle of water for you to cross over it.

Middle school is where children usually begin to explore the concept of romance. Maybe you saw him as a brother, maybe you weren't attracted to him at the time, maybe you wanted to put his devotion for you to the test. Whatever the reason was, you consistently friendzone him whenever he tried to court you.

But it's okay, he is willing to wait. He is willing to have his eyes sting with tears, heart broken over and over again. He is willing to grit his teeth and clench his fists while forcing a smile, watching you experiment with the idea of having a boyfriend or girlfriend with other people. He is willing to be the third wheel to every single one of your dates with other kids. Your friend is always going to be there for you no matter what, he is your unyielding safety net, he is your second choice, he is always the best alternative or default when the puppy love didn't work out. And, he found solace in that. Others come and go, he is the fucking constant.

Then, he is going to try his luck. He will do it over and over again. You're going to accept it one day.

Your friend loves flowers. He speaks the language and gives you bouquets of red roses and pink Camellias. You usually chuck it in a vase filled with water and let it wilt, they're going to be replaced anyways.

He found that the food in the cafeteria can be awful, with goopy expired milk, to half frozen pizzas, they're bound to cause some poor kid to puke their guts out later in the day. He is making sure you're not that kid, so, he dedicated what precious free time he had to hone his cooking skills. He is a busy boy, working god knows how many jobs a 12 year old can work in a day, just to fund this essential skill of his.

Middle schoolers can be so cruel, your friend may not look the most feminine, but it's the actions he does out of love that makes the children pick on him for being different. Ew! He likes flowers and cooking! Gross! Evil! Unnatural! Independent! So not Alpha!

It starts off rocky at first, bullies will sabotage him whenever they can, kick him while he's down. Ruin his stocks, call him names and vandalize his belongings, but he gets the last laugh when he makes fucking bank by selling warm, hearty, tasty meals. They're a big hit among the staff who have no time to cook for themselves and have half a brain to know eating from the cafeteria is a bad idea.

Of course, his beloved sweetheart gets to eat for free. And has the privilege to go for seconds, thirds, fourths, however much your stomach desires. Yours are always personalized to fit your palate and presented in the most appetizing way.

Soon, other children began buying his meals too. As it turns out, they fucking slap.

He began expanding, selling resold candies at a ridiculously marked up prices, but the way he marketed and packaged them, gave an illusion that he's selling a premium product. They sold out like hotcakes, while you ate wrapper after wrapper without needing to pay a single cent.

Hey, he really has a knack for business! He is raking in profits, bringing you out to eat, spoiling you with riches a self made, young entrepreneur would have, excelling in Business studies, Accounting, Mathematics and Psychology.

He began testing the limits of his trading empire, he began dabbling in service based business such as delivery, doing homework for a price, obtaining blackmail material... that is how he knew your homeroom teacher had an extramarital affair with the principal. Hmm... the principal seems to kiss his ass a lot and you get a bunch of privileges. You wonder why that happened.

His reputation grew as his shrewdness grew. Your friend was too intimidating to be bullied, as one of his business ventures includes hiring others to do some dirty work for him. You don't know the full extent of his giant conglomerate enterprise, and you don't want to know.

You remember seeing a female teacher handing him a wad of cash, her hair tousled, her clothes were messy, her lipstick smeared and weird stains were all over her body. For sure, she didn't just find it laying around in the boys' bathroom... and, there were a lot more boys requesting a bathroom break that day.

Your friend bought you the latest smartphone model on the same day too. You were disturbed with what you saw and the implications, so you asked if she even got anything out of working under him and... if she even agreed to work as... whatever she was. He just smiled, cup your cheek and told you to never, ever, ever, cheat in a relationship. Especially not with him.

He then followed up with his probably hundredth love confession for you. Which you promptly friendzone him again. Your friend would simply sigh and change the subject. Do you like your phone? He asked as you began unboxing it, the loud chatter from the mall's food court drowned the voice of doubt in your head.

His wallet is growing wider, he is growing taller, posture disciplined, voice deeper and he lost the majority of his baby fat. Giving him a sharper, meaner, leaner look, his physique is nothing to scoff at either. All those pastry batter mixing, soup stirring, skull bashing hustling and bustling sculpted those perfect abs and ass. His hair now has a healthy sheen to it since he can afford better things, his skin had no flaw and the protruding ribs on his chest is now covered up with muscular pecs.

Being pretty does have its' privileges, he observed a sale boost in his balance sheets.

Time waits for no man. Before you know it, the both of you are in Graduation togas. Smiling for the camera, you gave your friend bunny ears.

Your friend started worthless in everyone's eyes, something to poke fun at, a punching bag, forgettable and nothing serious. He transformed into this feared, revered, worshipped yet hated entity. Your friend no doubt made as many enemies as allies, that's just how it is in the business industry. Cold blooded, ruthless and absolutely bizarre to you.

He has obviously put some of the staff and students in horrible situations for his benefit and sometimes for your entertainment. They seem to genuinely see him as some sort of god, someone to cleanse them from all their sins. They... loved him. What a manipulative motherfucker.

As for you... your situation is pretty strange too. You are clearly the only person he cared about, the only person he truly ever loved and cherish. No one seem to conjure up the idea to use you against him. You seem... invisible, for the most part. And you are so grateful for that.

At least, that's what your friend wants you to think. You have no idea how many strings he has to pull to keep you safe and oblivious and innocent. You have no idea how much he had to spend to keep you pure and untainted. But, yeah. Keep believing its' due to some sort of cosmic karma system where you didn't incur any karmic debt.

It was the first time seeing his parents at this graduation ceremony, he never liked having you over at his house. They looked like how you imagined them; miserable, horrible, unhealthy and volatile. They really should not be seated next to each other, his parents looked like they're about to strangle each other and your friend at a moments' notice.

His father was smoking, plumes of grey wafted up in the open air. Ashes crumbled and dropped down to his lap. His necktie was undone and his office shirt was disheveled, much like his belt and scuffed shoes. It was a wonder how he's not escorted out of the venue yet.

His mother... she aged horribly. She looks irritated yet distant, she doesn't want to be here. Or does she not want to be with her ex husband? Maybe if they were separated by an opaque wall, the mood would be much more lifted. His mom wasn't mentioned a lot during conversations, you knew close to nothing except the fact that she gets him on the weekends.

Perhaps his mother is simply neglectful and not active, he did mention that its easier to prepare his sellable inventory during the weekends.

You're nervous to meet them, they're really unfriendly and they don't seem to care that much about their son's accomplishments.

Your friend gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. As if to soothe you from the sight of his less than ideal parents.

To you surprise, he just shot them an indifferent look before leading you away. Their relationships must be unsalvageable.

The event comes to an end, your friend mingled with everyone who, the majority, had clenched fists behind their back. He then went to socialize with your parents, he knew them well and they also knew them well. Their opinions on him are lovely.

He continued his endeavors, trying out many different ventures. It was extremely dizzying with the sheer amount of businesses he had. Your friend moved out of his parents' house(s) and struggled with finding a place for a while. So he stayed over at your parents' house with you for the time being. You get to wake up to the smell of deliciousness every morning, the plants would be watered, furniture dusted, home sparkling clean. Though, he was rarely around.

Eventually, he found his footing and lived in his own place. It's a little cramped and it could qualify as a weapon of psychological warfare, but that was all he could afford at the time.

He fought tooth and nail to obtain a massive bank loan for his main business plan, he was stressing over opening his first restaurant. The logistics of it all, the raw materials, the hired help, the equipment, the advertising-- the pressure of it all was enough to break the average person, but not him. Oh, he thrived on this. He was calculating, he knew the costs, the risks and he saved up enough for a rainy day.

It took him many months, many trips to the bank, many meetings, many phone calls, emails, uncountable hours working 3 jobs a day, an eternity in the kitchen, in the sweltering heat of lit stoves heating up pots and pans, many times where he would lose his voice from aggressive marketing, persuasion, severe sleep deprivation, starvation, networking, tears, blood and sweat. There were more times than you can count with your hands that he was almost driven to insanity if it wasn't for you.

The thought of you alone was more than enough to ground him and keep his eyes on the prize, he is going to make so much money that, you and he wouldn't ever have to work ever again. You both would live happily ever after as a married couple, comfortable and never needing to worry if he could afford the next meal or keep the lights on.

That's nice. You wouldn't need to know what he went through, he doesn't want you to go through a life of hardship like how he did. You wouldn't ever need to work a day in your life.

Your friend rubbed his aching, calloused hands, ridden with cuts and scars. The golden promise ring sits around his finger, it wasn't his to begin with, he stole them from his parents when you both were kids. He found solitude knowing that your hands will never be like his, your back will not ache from overexertion, your muscles will be relaxed and your mind will be quiet, at peace. But only if he kept going. Only if he does not give up.

Everything he does, he does it for you. He thought to himself, as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes staring at the screen of his phone. It's showing that 5 more customers placed an order for his famous party platter through a popular social media app. Your friend sighed as he tucks his phone away before opening the door to his mini fridge containing all the ingredients needed for the orders. It's 11pm, he has to be at one of his workplaces at 6am tomorrow.

The day finally came where he would open the doors to his very own restaurant. There was a crowd waiting in front of the shiny, polished glass doors.

His team of service crews, cooks and baristas anxiously watched on as your friend glanced at his old, marred and cracked wristwatch. His hand was tightly gripping on the door handles as he watched the minute hand twitched. His eyes and mouth were dry, probably due to the dehydration he endured for a while now.

As soon as his accessory shows that it's time for the grand opening, he opened the floodgates.

Customers come rushing in like a torrent of water in a river. Some new, some old, some here to do their jobs as a journalist, some are his other associates, some are his estranged relatives, some are his rivals. It was an assortment of people, a mixed bag.

The Chefs are cooking up a storm in the kitchen, the wait staff are serving customers left and right, bringing them to their tables. Baristas are whipping up as much drinks as they can, as perfectly as they can. Not a single foam bubble out of place, or else all those training would have gone to waste.

It was loud, busy and fiery. Chaos yet it was controlled, Disorder but it was ordered.

Your friend was leading the flow, the rhythm. The pulse of the restaurant depended on him. He made sure everything is in line, satisfaction at an all time high and disappointment non existent. He barked commands, firm and domineering, he controls the scene with an iron hand.

Waitstaff were trained to strike up friendly conversations with customers whose orders will take a longer time, to give the illusion of speed. Cheery faces, toothy smiles, giggles and laughter filled the establishment's air, alluring aroma of cooked goods filled everyone's nostrils, making many stomachs growl. It was colourful, it was tumultuously harmonic, expression of glee would made its way to the patrons' face when their dishes gets served. All the meals go beyond their expectations, in terms of smell, texture, taste and plating.

Your friend made sure that the cooling system was working perfectly, as he works in a kitchen, the easiest way to get snappy and grumpy is to be hungry in an oven. Calming music that's faintly playing in the background also helps, but its' mostly for him and the other staff. Everyone else is too occupied with their own matters to notice.

Today should be a day of accomplishment, happiness and gratitude. Why shouldn't it be? Revenue is projected to be high, profits are guaranteed and expected to go through the roof. Logically, this restaurant will be sustainable for many decades to come.

But your friend... he is getting antsy, upset, distressed, unhappy. His staff is noticing that he isn't all there, he's getting crabbier by the second. They were baffled, everything is going well, he is handling it wonderfully and the pressure is actually slightly dying down.

Where are you? He had scanned the dining area many many times now. No sign of you... but your parents were there. That somewhat calmed him down a bit, if they're there, you should be there too... right? You're probably at the salad counter or the bathroom. He anxiously massaged his hands, where are you?

He trusts his staff to handle everything on their own. He decided to take big strides towards your parents. Your friend greeted them with a warm smile, an animated Hello. Your parents mirrored him and returned the affability.

He was desperate to see you again... oh god, how long has it been since he last saw you? Hear your voice? It must have been months. As this realization dawned on him, he felt the coldest chill run down his spine.

Did he... unintentionally neglected you in the process of building the perfect life? No, that can't be. He sent you texts everyday.

He clenched his jaw and pushed his gnawing thought away momentarily. He made small talk with your parents. It was fine until he abruptly cut them off and got to the point; Where are you?

Your parents glanced at each other and a look of discomfort washed over them. Your friend was using the table to support his weight as he leaned forward. His knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the furniture too tightly.

They're studying abroad. They said. Your friend froze in place and widened his eyes.

What? Why didn't you tell him? Why didn't he know? Why--

He hastily whipped his phone out and frantically tapped on his cracked screen.

He trembled as he realized you never received his texts, let alone read it.

Your parents explained to him that you changed phone numbers two years ago when you left to continue your studies abroad.

Two years...? Its been two fucking years?!

Your friend began hyperventilating, his face was flushed and he was gagging and gasping. No, no, no this can't be. He is nothing like his parents! You meant everything to him, he had never intend to ignore you, he had never meant to neglect you! Your friend is losing grip on himself, he is shaking like a leaf. No one paid any attention to him, as he is simply insignificant at the moment.

Please... I-I need to call them, please let me call them! He was choking on his tears that were streaming down his face, dripping onto the pristine floors below.

Your father handed him his phone, your new number already dialed.

They're probably having an exam today. Your father tried to warn your friend, but he didn't hear a word. All he could think was you.

Your friend snatched it out from his hand and made a dash past all the staff, customers, chefs...

Until he reached the back door, upon which, he exited through it.

He sobbed, pressing the device against his ear, listening to it beep indefinitely.

The call eventually dropped because it wasn't picked up. His face was scrunched and his sniffles were bouncing off the walls and green dumpster nearby.

He tried again. The call dropped. He tried again. The call dropped.

He tried again,

Your friend crouched down to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest. His cries unheard by anyone, everyone else is in the restaurant. He is the only one at the back.

The call dropped.

I'm sorry. He mumbled repeatedly to himself.

He tried again.

I'm so sorry. He sobbed much harder this time, he cradled his face in his hand.

The call dropped.

Please forgive me. He squeezed his arm, his fingernails digging into his flesh.

He tried again.

You're always my number one. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have neglected you. He drew blood from piercing his skin with his nails.

The call dropped.

I'm sorry, I was only trying to build a better life for us. He took much shallower breaths.

He tried again

I would give up everything just to hear from you again, it means nothing to me if you're not here... with me. Please, I'm sorry. He was growing despondent, desolate. He was clutching his head, a ball of quivering mess.

The call dropped.

I love you. He whispered as he broke down completely. Angry at himself, angry at the world, angry at everything. Life isn't fair. He has done everything he needed to do and yet he the only reward he ever wanted isn't granted; you. He ruined everything, all of it, all his hard work, all of it was worthless. He felt worthless. The guilt and remorse and anguish of being a neglectful friend and partner was crushing him to death.

He wasn't there at the very end.

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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

Text

yandere! merman!chu wanning with a male!researcher!reader scenario

Warnings: Canon Divergence/Alternate Universe, Obsessive behavior, implied bullying, and OOC.

There may also be possible 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 than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome to the White Husky and His Pet Cat Shizun ficlet that I collaborated with the talented @berrypuddingpwease a while back. Definitely check out their blog if you are interested in this series, or others such as Heavenly Official's Blessing.

So without further ado, sit back, relax, and enjoy! :)

It hadn’t been that long since the merfolks first made contact with the humans, and definitely not enough time for any self-respected scholar to drop everything and study them. Whether it was blessing in disguise or simply dumb luck, you, a leading researcher in xenobiology, volunteered to be the one to carry out the task.

You would live in a small cottage overlooking the sea, near a merfolk’s nest, though you weren’t sure if that is even the correct terminology to use to describe their habitat. It would probably be better to use the terms lower world and higher world. After all, the merfolks still maintained a cautious line of behavior and were not truly ready to meet any humans, much less a researcher who would be documenting everything about them for the next six to seven months. Thank goodness for generous and curious sponsors.

Your territory covered a choppy part of the sea, although it is technically under the water. Beneath the waves were beautiful reefs and unusual marine life forms, most of which had not been discovered yet by other biologists, until now. Although you were cautious when diving, the merfolks had warned you about the others living in the lowlands and not to remove anything from their environment unless there was consent from the leader. You began to spend less time swimming in unknown territory and more time on land to communicate with the merfolk who were willingly to participate in a mutual research experiment, all in the name of learning how to coexist with one another.

The merfolks’ settlement was called the Summit of Life and Death. While you were not well acquainted with the other merfolk, it wasn’t your place to judge why they named certain landmarks or customs that were part of their everyday life.

However, from the small group of merfolk who were willingly to communicate with you, there is one who kept coming back even when he did not seem like a friendly one at all. His name was Chu Wanning, and his physique resembled more of a shark than a merman with his silver tail that reflected golden right beneath the rays of the sun and his thin, sharp facial features. His eyes were the most fascinating feature of him, in your opinion; the inky irises resembled an eternal winter, or a phoenix who could not be reduced to ashes even if he were at death’s door.

You did your best to keep your questions as brief as possible while giving him as much personal space as needed so he did not feel more uncomfortable than he already did, though you were always excited to see and talk to him with each passing day. Chu Wanning might believe those lovely webbed hands of his were too ugly for any human to see, but not you. They could not possibly be dry or unpleasant to the touch. Neither could the merman himself, this creature who appeared to have been carved from marble and given life, cold and beautiful. This strange, aloof merman who always maintained eye contact when speaking to you and exchanged information about his culture and customs, but never anything personal. You would never dare to cross that line when he has already given you so much, his words slowly filling the pages of your research journal.

You did not know what it meant for him when he brought a small group of younger mermen with him on your next visit, but this unexpected development did allow you to interact with the most sociable, talkative, and shameless mermaid you have ever met: Mo Ran.

Unlike his peers or his mentor, the scales of his obsidian tail shimmered beneath the sunlight as a light shade of crimson. Apparently it was very rare for someone of the merfolk to possess such a dark colored tail as Mo Ran did. Other clans speculate it is a sign of a terrible omen to befall upon those closest to them in the distant future. While he said this with a casual smile, waving it off as superstition…you could see the faintest glimmer of sadness in his eyes, and the way he looked at one of the other mermen, Shi Mei, you believed was his name.

“If it means anything, coming from a human…I believe your tail is very beautiful.” You said, smiling softly as your deft fingers flipped to another empty page, steadying the pen in your hand. “What else can you tell me about the courting customs between the merfolk?”

“Why do you want to know so much about us anyway?” He fired back, face flushed, no doubt from exposure to the sun. “Do you plan on courting that cold-hearted bastard? You know it’s forbidden for a merman to interact with humans, much less fall in love with them.”

Your brow disappeared into your hairline at his words. “Chu Wanning has been nothing but polite and cordial towards me in this experiment.” You answered carefully. “Furthermore, all of this information will be collected in a book to share with fellow scholars. If there is anything that he does not wish for me to share with the world, I will gladly omit it. I will not jeopardize our…tentative relationship, for a rise in status. There are more important things in life than being a renowned researcher, you know.”

Mo Ran just stared at you with a stupefied expression. Perhaps he believed you had ulterior motives, another selfish reason why you would even bother doing all of this. Perhaps he thought you were the oddest human you had ever met. Perhaps this is the first time he had someone speak about his master without any animosity, or any animosity towards his kind. Either way, you hoped he was satisfied with your answer. And he seemed to be, or just decided to change the subject by going into excruciating detail about the courting rituals of mermaids. He was about to sing into your tape recorder and provide an example of the bawdy love poems that were performed by the males to their intended mates, when Chu Wanning suddenly appeared behind the young shark.

He seemed…quite furious. He didn’t even give the poor thing a chance before he lectured the daylights out of Mo Ran, going so far as to say that mermaids do not sing such shameless lyrics unless they are actually desperate to attain the affection of their desired mate, even when they rejected them for whatever reason.

Mo Ran glared balefully at his master for a long moment, then spared you one more glance before he disappeared beneath the white-capped waves with a flick of his glistening tail.

To your shock, the great Chu Wanning lowered his head and apologized for his disciple’s behavior, promising to punish Mo Ran for acting so unsightly.

“It’s quite alright, really.” You reassured him quickly. “He wasn’t being disrespectful, he was….very honest. And he kept me company. Though, if I may be so bold to say this, I do enjoy your company quite a bit more than Mo Ran’s.”

You said, smiling at him, glancing down at your journal briefly to flip to a crisp, new page. “So, where did we leave off from our last conversation? I believe it was something to do with the mythology behind the summit’s origins?”

“…Mn.”

You took the singular syllable as confirmation, your grin stretching from ear to ear in utter delight and anticipation. What you did not realize back then, your head being so wrapped up in possible theories and many other ideas, is that your companion was physically and mentally relieved to know that you were not besotted with Mo Ran in any manner beyond a scholarly fascination.

It eased his mind tremendously, because he has already begun to secretly make the necessary arrangements to commence a courting ritual of his own. Obviously, you were the one he wished to serenade. The desire to claim you and present all of the treasures in the world at your feet…it’s suffocating, but in such a lovely way that it sent pleasant tremors up his spine at the thought of being your mate, husband, whatever you prefer to refer to a lifelong companion by human terms.

After all, that’s why you had continued to actively seek him out ever since you have arrived, is it not? Because you see him as not someone who is coveted for his strength and position as the master of Sisheng Peak, but someone who yearns for love, and you believe he is worthy of love and being loved in return even when he is an imperfect, disgusting creature.

Right?

Taglist:

@abelheilonwife

@yandere-dark-cupid

@sunnyblackbird

@kanroji-san

@sarcastic-cookie

@aestheticllyinmentalagony

@yoruciel

@moonreaper25

@noxiemoon

@hiyoko-akira-san

@sleep-all-day-everyday

@technikerin23

@ceeesxy-blog

@kanroji-san

#yandere male #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere #ns.fw #chu wanning #chu wanning x reader #forbidden-sunlight #male reader #male!reader #cw obsessive behavior #cw obsession #tw bullying #cw bullying #erha he ta de bai mao shizun #erha #mo ran #mermaid au #dumb husky and his white cat shizun

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purgemarchlockdown · 1 month

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I really do like emphasizing certain things the prisoners face and the ways they react to them as things caused by the societal/social environment Around Them rather than something that happens because their just Like That or something.

I'm a bit busy so writing in a rush but:

Muu's Bullying isn't caused just because there were bullies, but because the social environment of the high school encouraged a dog eat dog world where people harmed each other so that they could become "safe." The best way to not become a target was either to be so pitiful people would treat you "better" so they could get some sort of moral high ground.

Or to be one of the bullies hurting everyone else because why would Anyone try harm you if you were at the top.

Similarly, Mahiru isn't just, more obsessed with romance than everyone else because she was born like that or something, she was fed a Story.

She was fed and pushed the idea that to be an ideal member of society one needs to be a perfect wife, it's more socially acceptable for her to be in her relationship. Something she advertises in TIHTBILWY, and she played off that idea in a self-destructive and destructive general way.

These behaviors were encouraged by the stories being told around her about love and romance, and amplified by Mahiru's general shelteredness and vague loneliness.

On the flipside, Amane's abuse is something semi-arbitrary. She just wasn't good enough by metrics she would not be able to quantify in any meaningful way.

But the environment around her that promotes an idea that children should not be treated as equals, and strict community rules about how to behave properly that attack anyone that is out of the "norm" allow her abuse to continue in the way it does. Yknow, it's very environmental.

#milgram #milgram thoughts #amane momose #muu kusunoki #mahiru shiina #cw child abuse #cw bullying

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the-kr8tor · 8 months

Text

Knee Socks

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, bullying, blood, violence, food mentions, fluff.

Main Masterlist

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 3 >>> CHAPTER 4

Hobie converses with his friends, casually leaning on the playground's chain link fence, he's only eleven, that awkward stage where he thinks he's too old to use the slide, but still too young to be taken seriously by the older kids. He's too tall to be just eleven, almost a foot taller than his classmates, always mistaken for someone older, he takes it in stride, becoming his year's resident protector from would be bullies. His sheer height alone makes them stop in their tracks, not to mention his perseverance when the bully decides to fight Hobie, even if they're taller or bigger than him, he doesn't back down despite his lanky form and sometimes nerdy personality, wiping at his bleeding nose, he stands up, knuckles at the ready.

This alone makes Hobie an absolute legend in the playground. He doesn't care about that though, he just does what he thinks is right, and that's protecting those who cannot defend themselves.

The children playing stops in their tracks when a loud shriek rings out, ears perking at the difference of the sound from a happy playing yell. This one sounded like they were in pain, Hobie stomps towards the sound, the crowd parting for him.

He sees a bigger kid holding a smaller one by his ear, he recognizes the bully from his year, the smaller one seems like a year younger than him. The crowd around them gets bigger, some kids would be hollering for a fight, some could only watch. Before Hobie could run up to them, a flash of something pink hits the bully right on his forehead, causing him to let go, crouching and holding the bleeding cut it left behind.

You fearlessly strut up to him, screaming your tiny head off, "fuck off, Terrence!" You pick up the pink sketchbook from the ground, threatening to throw it again.

Hobie's eyes widened at your choice of word, not used to hearing it in the playground, he smirks at your bravery, especially that you're five times smaller than the bully. He watches as you shield the smaller kid from Terrence, book at the ready.

You look over your shoulder to look back at the younger kid on the ground, clutching at the shell of his ear, tears falling on his rosy cheeks. "You okay, Danny?"

With you distracted, Terrence finds the opportunity to grab you by the ankle, losing your balance and swiftly falling on your back, you let out a small pained sound. Hobie had enough of being a bystander, he runs up to the bully, punching him square in his face. Terrence doesn't back down, tackling Hobie, they both fall on the harsh gravel, Hobie shields his face from the oncoming punches while Terrence keeps aiming at his face.

You stand up, no time to dust yourself off, you yell a battle cry, flinging yourself on the bully's back, trying to get him off Hobie. Your small fists thump helplessly on the bigger kid's back. Suddenly the crowd parts, a couple of winded teachers arrive, one yanks you off Terrence, while the other stops him from punching Hobie. They hold you both back, like a couple of kittens trying to claw and scratch at each other.

"Enough!" One of the teachers yells out, Hobie sits up, a cut on his lip. Eyes watching as you don't let up from trying to kick Terrence's ass.

—

You sit on one of the school clinic's cot, an ice pack on your head, the condensation slides over your face, landing on the paper of your mangled sketchbook.

"Little shit" you murmur out, wiping at the water on your precious notebook.

The curtains separating the beds flings open, you jump from the sound of metal.

"Y'know you could get in trouble for that" Hobie looks at you, a similar ice pack over his cheek. He sits criss crossed on the bed, blanket pooling around him.

"You would know, of course" the previous anger still lingers, your usual shyness gone from your system.

"So you've heard of me?" He raises his brow, hissing when he moves it.

"Who hasn't heard of you? Here" you toss your ice pack over to his cot, "you look like you need it more" Hobie fumbles a bit before he finally catches it. He looks back at you, your face scrunched up in anger, brows knitted together, you look at the pink notebook like it'll spontaneously combust right in front of you.

"You look like Gromit, when you're mad" he brings your previous ice pack to his brow, the other held up to his cheek. "Y'know when he scrunches his face" you look at him angrily "like that!" He points out.

"Hey! You want a piece of me too?" It sounded much braver in your head, but with the fading adrenaline and anger, your shyness peeks back in, making your sentence sound meek.

Hobie holds up his hands, dropping the ice packs on the bed "nah, I can't fight you"

"Why? Just because I'm a girl?"

"Nope, I saw what you did to big Terry, thought you gave him brain damage" he pokes his temples. "I don't want that notebook flying at me, especially with that aim of yours"

"Fucker already has brain damage" you say softly, your shyness definitely creeping in, but you're still angry enough to swear.

"Where'd you learn to curse like that? You don't look like someone who swears"

"The telly" you shrug.

"That shit ain't good for you"

"You sound like an adult," you scrunch your nose "they always tell me I swear a lot when I'm mad. You swear too, y'know"

"I'm allowed" Hobie leans back, grinning.

"How are you allowed?" you ask, genuinely curious. Why is he allowed and you're not?

"I'm older" he says matter-of-fact.

"You're only a year older than me" you scoff, wincing when a sharp pain hits the back of your head.

Hobie hops down from the bed, quickly grabbing the ice packs. He moves towards you, sitting down, your sketchbook in the middle between you. He hands you the ice pack back, you give him a small thanks, hissing when the cold hits your skin.

"You alright? D'you want me to get the nurse?" He asks you as if he wasn't injured himself, looking worse than you.

"I'm fine, you look worse than me though"

"You draw?" Hobie doesn't acknowledge your last comment. He tries to take a peek at the pages, you clamp the book shut with lightning speed.

"I'm not showing you my sketchbook"

"Why not?"

"It's private! And I don't know you"

"Well, name's Hobie Brown" he extends his hand towards you "and you areee? Then you tell me your name, That's how this usually goes"

You narrow your eyes, "I know who you are" slapping his hand away but you tell him your name anyway, trying to be the polite one "Y/N, it's Y/N Y/L/N"

"Now we know each other, now can I?" His hand hovers over your notebook. "Damn, this looks like it's been trampled"

"Fucking Terrence" you seethe, sliding the book over to him. "Here"

"Fucking Terrence" Hobie smiles as he flips through your sketches.

—

Your mind goes back to the present when your familiar mug lands on your messy table, the content sloshes a bit to the sides.

"Careful!" You hold the mug, stopping its motion.

"Shit, sorry. You looked like Gromit there for a second" he chuckles, sitting down on your bed, a piece of biscuit in his mouth, the springs squeaking under his weight.

"Augh, you trying to bring back that nickname?" You take a sip, the warmth of the tea relaxes the aching muscles of your hand.

"It's always been there, Gromit" he lays down, swallowing the cookie, his chucks still on his feet.

You stand up immediately, cringing when his soles graze your bedsheets, grabbing his shoes off your bed "shoes off!" You struggle as Hobie watches on with a smirk "fuckin' take it off!"

"You're mad mad" he sits up, unlacing his shoes.

You put your hands on your hips, socked feet tapping impatiently. Hobie flings his shoes off, looking smugly at your annoyed face. He lays down, arms behind his head.

You narrow your eyes at him "awwe, are you tired?" You asked sarcastically.

"Yes, talking to you the entire day is tiring"

"You're not the one designing this thing" you gesture towards your table that's littered with crumpled papers, various designs pinned on your corkboard. Your hand cramps at the thought of drawing another line.

"Giving my opinion is tiring, why don't you rest for a bit, you're obviously knackered" he taps the space beside him. It wouldn't be the first time you've shared a bed, it's impossible that you haven't, being that you've been best friends for ten years. But you're still unsure, knowing that when you lie down (especially next to him) you won't get back to work again. But it doesn't mean that your heart doesn't skip a beat whenever you do share a bed, it practically stops in your chest until you two wake up.

Hobie sees your dilemma, knowing you wouldn't be able to work on your designs if you lie down next to him. "Come sit down at least" he finds a middle ground.

You sigh, surrendering, as long as you don't rest your head on your pillow you'll be fine, right? Sitting down, Hobie's legs props you up, preventing you from laying down completely.

You hum, leaning your entire weight over his legs, you can feel the rough material of his jeans on your back, your jumper doesn't provide much barrier from his warmth.

"Don't fall asleep" Hobie pokes your arm.

"Hard to when your bony legs are stabbing my back"

He moves his legs back, you fall halfway, head almost landing on his knees. You smack his arm playfully. Hobie predicts that you'll slap his chest next, he moves his arm shield himself. Lo and behold, that's where you hit him next.

"Fuck you, Wallace" despite your swearing, you grin widely, Hobie laughs at his old nickname, he keeps dodging your attacks, Hobie parries your hand, stopping it mid air. He holds your wrists in front of him, warm fingers wrap bracelets around them.

He laughs victoriously "who you callin' Wallace? Do I look like I'm bald?"

You try to get his grip off your wrist, pulling, but his grip is too strong–it doesn't hurt, it's the opposite actually, his grip on you provides comfort and stability. A laugh escapes you "you smile like him" he says it with you, copying your voice mockingly, already knowing that you'll say those exact words.

You roll your eyes, trying and failing to take your hands back, Hobie pulls you in, making you lean over his chest, your heart immediately jumping at the close proximity of his face from yours. Hobie didn't think this through enough, now he doesn't know what to do next. You both pause on your play fighting.

He watches your reaction, your lips slightly parted, pupils blown out. You do the same, cataloging every line on his face, eyes finding the familiar color of his iris, the late afternoon sun gleaming on his lip piercing. You quickly move your eyes back to his, realizing you've been staring at his lips, you swallow down your fear. You lay on top of him, frozen.

You exhale, breath fanning his face, your pulse thumping hard against Hobie's hand. He loosens his grip on your wrists, giving you time to pull away, but you don't so he slides his hands from your wrists over to your hands, fingers stopping at your clammy palms.

Hobie raises his head slowly to meet yours, his heart uncharacteristically beating hard on his chest. He realizes that his heart only acts this way around you. He can feel the dam straining against the overflowing water.

Knock

The sound breaks you both out of your daze, pushing away from each other, you avoid Hobie's gaze. While he looks at you longingly, chest heaving at what almost transpired.

Knock

You try to act nonchalantly, clearing your throat "yeah?"

"It's almost six! Get your visitor out" the dorm's RA yells out like a warden.

"Yeah, okay!" You give her a thumbs up, as if she can see you through the door. Hobie notices your awkwardness, taking it upon himself to break the awkward feeling.

"She doesn't have x-ray vision" He stops himself from touching your arm, hand landing back to his side.

You scoff, heat slowly leaving your cheeks "c'mon time to go home" you stand up, refraining from tapping his chest.

"We're not done yet" he sits up by his elbows, eyes following you gathering his stuff like a one night stand trying to get him out of your place.

You sigh "I don't think we can finish this today, Hobs" you say defeatedly "I mean look" you take a pinned sketch, showing it to Hobie. You both act like nothing happened, used to the almosts.

He looks at your sketch of him, drawn like a runway model, your design looks good, for him at least. Already sure whatever you make for him will be amazing. But judging from your pout he guesses it's not good enough for you.

"It looks good" he reassures you, "what's wrong with it?"

You drop his shoes back on the floor, stepping over it to sit back down on the bed. You hold the paper gingerly, noting every single line you've drawn. "There's something missing, it– I don't know" you groan.

"Make me understand then, they all look good enough for me" he gestures at your designs on the corkboard "I like the one with red on it"

"They all have a touch of red" you roll your eyes, "I don't know, they just– they have more Hobie in them, than of me y'know?"

He nods "yeah, I can see it, you need more bits of you in it"

"Mm-hmm, it's supposed to be a perfect blend of us both" you cross the barrier that you've put up between him, leaning your head on his chest.

"Yeah, it's like if we had a kid and they ended up lookin' like a clone of me" he looks at you teasingly, a smirk curling on his lips.

"Again, weird analogy, Hobs" you huff out.

He chuckles "D'you wanna rest or continue this at my place?" Hobie covers the top of your head with his palm, blanketing your scalp in his warmth.

Thinking for a second, you want to rest, but on the other hand, you need to keep working, you never know when both of your schedules will clear up, this is one of those rare times.

The loud knock echoes again, "your place, then" you look at him, cheek laying on his chest, hearing how his heart beats against your ear.

Hobie smiles, more than happy to spend more time with you.

—

You stop by a convenience store on the way to his place. The harsh white lights make you squint until your eyes adjust. Hobie grabs a basket, handing it to you.

"Such a gentleman" sarcasm dripping on your lips.

He walks backwards, winking at you, hands in his jean pockets. Hobie beelines for the frozen aisle, his chucks sliding against the tiled floor.

You sigh, already knowing what he'll grab. You take a couple of crisps, Hobie's favourite and yours. You bend down to grab a packet of biscuits, hearing a tinkling sound on your left, your eyebrows knit in confusion at the peeking green sock puppet.

"Hello there" You ask, thinking there's a kid playing around. You stand up, the small basket almost full.

"Hi" the puppet's mouth moves, but Hobie's voice comes out, you laugh at how he tried to hide his voice by making it higher pitched.

"Hobie, where'd you even get that?" You say in between airy laughs. You can't see where he is, Hobie's body is hidden behind a display of oatmeal, but you can clearly see his metal bracelet peeking out from under the puppet.

"Name's not Hobie, it's y/n, and I have a passion for fashion" the puppet's mouth moves dramatically as Hobie speaks.

You giggle at his antics, grabbing the puppet by its 'throat' "ack!" Hobie acts like he's choking. He moves in your line of sight, still making choking noises. The cashier looks at you weirdly, releasing your hand from the puppet.

You keep laughing, Hobie's smiles victoriously, getting the desired reaction from you. You clutch your hand over your stomach, heaving from laughing.

"You done?" Hobie is still speaking through the puppet, his throat aching from making his voice higher.

"Yep, you can stop making that voice" you smile, playing with the little bell strapped on the puppet, it rings softly at your touch.

"Thank fuck," Hobie clears his throat, speaking in his normal deep voice "they're selling these over there" he points to his right, using the puppet to point at it.

You see the bright display of different sock puppets, the bold letters reading 'all proceeds go to the children's hospital'

"It's cute, what even is it?"

Hobie moves the puppet from side to side, little yellow spikes on its head, a long tongue lolling on the side of its mouth. "I think it's supposed to be a dinosaur"

"Looks like it, but its tongue is too long to be a dinosaur, maybe it's a lizard?" You look at Hobie questioningly.

"Don't look at me, I don't know either" he shrugs.

"Whatever it is let's take it, he's kind of adorable, in a weird looking way" you take it from his hand, putting it inside your basket.

"Just like you" Hobie quips.

"Funny" you poke his chest. "You got the frozen pizza?"

"Nah, got distracted" Hobie walks towards the freezers, you follow closely behind, he flings the door open. You peek under his raised arm resting on the freezer door, looking at your choices.

"Four cheeses? Or overload?" You ask.

"You want me to shit myself?"

You giggle "right, lactose intolerant, forgot for a sec, overload it is. Thought you have lactaid?"

Hobie takes the frozen pizza box, bringing it to your cheeks, you jump away when the cold box hits your skin. "I ran out of it"

"Ass" you scoff, wiping away the condensation.

He laughs from his belly, putting the box inside the basket. Hobie grabs the heavy basket from you, happily giving it to him. He makes his way towards the cashier, you quickly grab a couple of canned soda from the freezer, catching up to Hobie.

The cashier gives you an annoyed look, probably because of the noises you two made. You look at him apologetically as he scans the items.

—

You arrive at his place, slightly shivering from the cold air that pricked you while in the back of Hobie's motorcycle. He gets off first, helping you with a steady hand.

"Remind me to bring a proper jacket next time we ride this late. Christ alive it's bloody freezing" you rub your arms, trying to get warm, your thin jacket isn't helping much to shield you from the cold.

Hobie takes off his leather jacket despite being only a few feet away from his place, he drapes it on you since your hands are full with the plastic bag of food. He holds your hands together breathing hot air into it, your heart swells at the small act.

"Why didn't you tell me you were cold? I could've stopped for a bit and handed you my jacket, you idiot" he grumbles out, still rubbing your hands warm.

"It was a short ride, Hobs. Besides we're here already you don't need to do this"

"Inside isn't any better, radiator's fucked since yesterday" he brings your hands to his mouth, blowing more warm air into your cold hands.

"Just my luck" your breathing stutters in your throat when Hobie looks at you through his lashes, lips dangerously close to your hands. "Let's just go inside, I'm hungry" you pull your hands away, already missing his warmth. Hobie looks at you like you grew a second head.

"Oven still works, right?" You clear your throat.

Hobie takes out his keys, opening the door for you "yeah, gas still works" he sniffs, the cold finally bothering him.

Entering the small house, you can hear the loud sound of the television, bright against the darkness of the modest living room. Ned and James play couch co-op of golden eye. James sees you standing awkwardly by the doorway, not paying attention to the screen, his character dies, making Ned annoyed.

"Come on, bruv! We can't pass this level with you dying every bloody minute" Ned follows James' stare, ending with you standing stiffly in front of the door, too awkward to walk in front of the telly, not wanting to disturb them. Hobie's behind you fumbling with the lock.

"Hi, sorry to drop in" you smile shyly.

Ned slaps the back of James' head "really? You got distracted?" He whisper-shouts, James jumps slightly in his seat, Ned quickly moves his neck to look at you, "It's alright, y/n! Make yourself at home"

"Thanks" you say, smiling sweetly.

"Oi, it's rude to stare" Hobie finally locks the rusty bolt, eyes staring at James.

" 'm not," he defends himself, thick Manchester accent rearing its head. "I was lookin' at the bag, is that pizza?" He acts interested in the contents of your bag.

Hobie side eyes Ned, having a non verbal conversation with him.

"I think there's enough for us four, where's Yuri? I still haven't thanked her for her help" you say.

"She's with her friends," Ned says.

Nodding, you walk towards the kitchen, Hobie not too far behind. "Have you talked to the landlord about the broken radiator, Hobs?"

"Don't need to, we're moving out anyway" Hobie replies nonchalantly, like it's old news to you.

"What?" You drop the plastic bag a little too hard on the counter. "What do you mean you're moving out? Where are you moving?" Fear creeps up to you.

"All of us are moving, actually" James pipes up from the couch, Ned elbows for him to shut up.

Hobie grabs a flyer from the fridge door, showing it to you. "Battle of the bands, our last show before we disband"

"You're gonna disband too?!" You look at Ned sitting on the couch, watching the interaction unfold. He replies for Hobie, seeing he might need some help explaining it to you.

"Sorry y/n, it's true. James and Yuri are off to uni, and I'm moving back to Richmond"

You look at Hobie sadly, knowing he'll be left behind by one of his oldest friends. You're well aware that Hobie doesn't like sticking to one band, moving on to a different team every few years, this doesn't surprise you, but Ned has been one of the few constants in his band, always his chosen bassist, and his oldest friend next to you.

Ned and James start their game again, giving you as much privacy as the small space can provide, trying to not listen to your obvious private conversation, they wish you two could just talk it out inside Hobie's room instead. Or better yet, just kiss about it, saving you both the energy.

Looking up at Hobie, eyes slightly watering at the thought of him being left behind, you'd never even thought of doing that to him. Of course you know he can handle himself, but you can't bear imagining him alone. Or maybe it's because you can't imagine going through life without him, turning out he'll be fine on his own without you. And you're the one who's projecting your fears towards Hobie.

Your lives have been intertwined since childhood, celebrating wins together, laughing and crying at the good and bad. You've been through almost everything together, it's hard to imagine your life before you met him, more so after your lives untangle from each other.

"When's the last gig?" You try to not let your emotions get to you, but your smile doesn't reach your eyes. Hobie sees through your charade, he holds your hand subtly, thumb rubbing circles over your palm.

"It'll be fine, love" I'll be fine, he wanted to say, but he swallows it down, tossing it over to the pile of all the unsaid words he wanted to say to you. "We've been planning it for awhile, just need to find a place and I'm good to go"

"You haven't found a place yet?" completely forgetting there are other people in the room with you, melting into his touch.

"Not yet, y'know me, always putting things off" he tangles his fingers through yours. "Once we win, I'll get enough to rent a place"

"I'll help you find a place" you squeeze his hand, he squeezes back three times.

"You givin' it for free? No need for me to punch out a hole in our card?" He teases you.

You roll your eyes "Don't push it, Hobart. But yes, you don't need to use our card for it" you joke, you would've helped him anyways, card or no card.

"Good, thanks Gromit" he smiles, reluctantly untangling your fingers from his. Hobie hands you the flyer, moving towards the counter to take out the food. With that your previous conversation ends, but your sadness and anxiety for what the future holds still lingers. Everything seems to change too fast, you don't think you're ready for any of it.

You smile softly at the nickname. Reading the contents of the advert– Battle of the bands at Oscorp Museum! your eyes widening when you gloss over the date on it. "Hobie, this concert is happening the day before our show"

"And? It's not on the same day" he takes out the puppet from the plastic.

"Yeah, but won't you be too..tired?" You ask.

Hobie huffs, taking the puppet off the counter, slipping it on your hand, you raise a brow at him "say what you really mean by 'tired' use the puppet to help" he crosses his arms over his chest.

You narrow your eyes, playing along, raising your arm halfway. You speak through the puppet, trying to talk with your mouth closed "won't you be too hungover?"

"There we go!" He claps "Thank you, y/n for the honesty"

"That wasn't me, that was the puppet"

"We have a real ventriloquist here, huh" Hobie takes out the frozen pizza from the box, slipping it inside the oven, he shuts the oven door closed "There won't be any alcohol in the venue, there's nothing to fucking drink"

"Sure" you say, still speaking through the puppet, rolling its head with your hand movements.

James whispers to Ned "they were all sweet to each other a second ago, now they're fighting"

"Reminds you of your parents huh?" Ned whispers back.

"Actually yeah, good eye"

Ned looks at him confused "not a compliment, bruv"

"Huh?"

"Nothin' what's up with the creepy puppet?"

Meanwhile, you continue to bicker with Hobie, the cold not helping with your attitude "You know I'm thinking of naming him Terrence, he looks like a Terry, right?" You make the puppet look at you, making it nod.

"Fuck off, after that Terry?"

"Yeah, we can tell exactly what we mean through Terry then we can both put the blame on him" you make the puppet nervously look at both of you.

"Fuckin' Terrence" Hobie remembers the bully.

"Exactly! Fuckin' Terrence" you both laugh, you don't even remember why you were fighting in the first place.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

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fandom-madness69 · 6 months

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can you make a scenario where gojo accidentally makes his s/o cry? like I wanna know what he does and how he reacts like girlllll I NEED TO KNOW😭😭😭(btw ignore my name💀)

It's Tumblr the names are wild everywhere

Yeah I'll see what I can do

Contents: playful bullying, playful insulting, Satoru makes his gf cry, Fem reader, yn x Satoru, Satoru fucks his apology into you, Daddy honorifics used

Word count: 1,040

“Yeah well at least I’m not a cocky know it all,” you yelled back at Satoru from the kitchen where you were making dinner. You two had been playfully insulting each other for the last twenty minutes now. Satoru really loved it when you reciprocated his playful bullying.

“I might be cocky and a know it all but at least I’m not built like a match stick,” he called back his voice echoing off the walls a little bit. He had been sitting in the living room watching TV while you prepped dinner. He would have helped you but last time he tried you got angry because he kept getting right in your way seconds before you’d need to be in that space.

“Oh, you love how tiny I am and you know it,” you retorted back as you started putting everything into the pots and pans, they needed to be in to cook. You were having a hard time thinking of a comeback, which usually happened.

“Oh, is that all you’ve got? That wasn’t even an insult, you dumbass are you even trying?” he yelled from his place on the couch. For some reason this comment hit harder than you thought it would. You felt tears brimming in your eyes and tried to wipe them away. More immediately replaced those and spilled down your cheeks without permission. It wasn’t like he meant it. Right? The tears dropped off your chin and you sniffled a little bit.

“Hey are you crying?” Satoru asked his voice much closer and quieter. You jumped a little bit and turned to see him sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“What? No,” you said hastily wiping your face as you stared at the food cooking on the stove.

“Y/N don’t fucking lie to me. Did I make you cry?” his voice was a little bit more stern than usual.

“Yes, okay you did. I don’t know why that comment got to me but it did,” you wiped your face again and stirred the food that needed to be stirred. Arms wrapped around your waist as Satoru pressed himself against you in a tight hug from behind.

“I’m sorry babe I didn’t mean to get carried away like that,” he cooed in your ear.

“It’s alright Satoru, we were both insulting each other so it’s not like I didn’t sign up for this,” you squeezed one of his arms around your waist affectionately.

“You didn’t though. You didn’t sign up for tears, you signed up for playful bullying and I took it too far. I’m an asshole and I’m sorry,” he insisted as he nuzzled into your neck, “let me make it up to you baby please.” You sighed as you tried to stay focused on dinner.

“If you insist but let me finish cooking first before you do anything too dramatic and crazy,” you said since you knew he tended to go over the top sometimes. He giggled and kissed your ear.

“Then you better hurry up so I can make sure you know just how sorry I really am,” he purred in your ear and your knees went weak. You turned around to tell him off but he was already gone and back in the living room.

“Stupid teleporting sorcerer,” you muttered as you kept cooking dinner

—————————————————————————————

“I’m v… Mmmm very sorry little one,” Satoru grunted out in your ear as his fingers tightened on your thighs as he pounded into you from behind. His cock was ramming against your cervix relentlessly. He knew this was the only way you’d accept his apology.

“Yeah? Are you really though Daddy?” you teased as the tension in your abs built tighter. He whined a bit at your words since this was the tenth time, you’d said this. He had promised when you started, he wouldn’t cum until you forgave him.

“Fff fuck yes b… Baby girl I’m very ssorry. Can Daaadddyyyyy please ffucking cum now?” his hips were starting to lose rhythm as his desperation made you cum again your tight warm hole restricting around him more.

“Fine Daddy, I forgive you,” you panted out. He practically yelled in relief as he pushed your head into the bed and fucked you faster. His hips stuttered to a stop as rope after rope of his cum shot into you. His cock twitching made you cum again and scratch at the bed deeply underneath you.

“Mmmmmm I can tell that was your finishing one babe,” Satoru said as he slid his softening cock from your clenching hole. He watched as his cum started to leak from your hole. He gently spread your lips with his thumbs ignoring your sharp inhale as he watched more of his seed spill out.

“I know you need time to recover but I really want to eat this out of your pussy,” he said sliding one thumb down your slit to collect some of the fluids. You looked at him over your shoulder as he sucked it off his thumb.

“That sounds really really hot Satoru, go ahead,” you said softly as you were just starting to get your breathing back to normal. His tongue quickly dove into your hole which was still clenching around nothing. You practically mewled in pleasure as his lips and tongue sucked and fucked your hole. You writhed at the overstimulation but Satoru’s fingers only dug into your hips deeper.

“Shit Satoru it can’t be that much,” you hissed from the painful pleasure.

“It’s not I just wanted to feel your writhe beneath me some more,” he teased as he pulled away from your tender cunt. He smacked you’re ass once before pulling you to sit in his lap with your chest against his back. You felt his half hard cock twitching behind you.

“So now that you’ve accepted my apology that means I can use this little body of yours to my liking right,” he asked as his kissed your ear. You shuddered and grabbed his arms that were around you tightly.

“Let me recover and let us eat dinner and then we will talk,” you said.

“Hmmmmm fine,” he said as he turned your face and kissed you softly on the lips.

Please do not reupload this anywhere. If anyone ever sees my original work uploaded anywhere please let me know. I only post here for now. One day I might actually move things over to my Ko-fi

#jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #saturo smut #saturo gojo #gojo satoru #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x fem reader #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo smut #gojo smut #cw bullying #cw smut

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windslar · 22 days

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#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 legacy #tjolc #tjolc gen 2 #the joy of life challenge #the joy of life legacy #tw death #tw sui implied #cw sui mention #tw self harm #cw bullying #tw suicide mention #tw suicide ideation

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robo-milky · 8 months

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[Left -> Right] || CW: Bullying

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valeriele3 · 26 days

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Kalim Al-Asim x Bullied!Fem reader

Warnings: Verbal bullying and not proofread (Please lmk if I missed smth)

Words: 669

Serious ver. | Crack ver.(You're here!)

"Y/N is such a bitch." - Random Student A

"I know right!" Random student B says.

"Oh right, have you heard? Apparently Y/N seduced multiple housewardens. Must be why she's so close to them. What a slut."

Random students A and B laugh.

"Hey! Take that back!"

"Huh? And who—” - RS.A

"O-Oh Kalim! Hey there! How's it going?" - RS.B

"Don't pretend like you weren't just talking bad about Y/N! Please take back what you said; none of them were true at all."

“I—” Student B gets cut off by Student A.

"Hm? Whatever could you mean by that, Kalim?"

"You called Y/N names."

"Names? Oh, that? I'm afraid we were simply saying the truth, though. Almost everyone agrees."

"Look, I'm not sure where you heard that, but Y/N is far from what you guys think."

"She's a hard-working, earnest, and sincere person."

"She never seduced anyone."

"She managed to form the connections and friendships she has by communicating with them, helping them, and just being herself."

"And that's why I love her."

You just got done with your potionology class and were walking towards the cafeteria.

You were about to turn the corner until you heard a familiar voice.

"-nd that's why I love her."

Kalim's voice.

Thud

'Ah, it seems that I really stand no chance'

'He already loves someone else.'

"Hm? Oh! Y/N!"

Panicking, you quickly run away, leaving behind your book that you accidentally dropped. "Hey, wait up! You dropped your book!" Kalim runs after you.

After a bit of running, Kalim eventually caught up to you.

He taps your back and says, "Hey, why'd you run away?"

Sniffle

"H-hey..Are you..Crying?"

"What's wrong?"

You stay silent.

After what felt like an eternity, a different voice spoke up.

"Kalim? Y/N? What are you guys standing in the middle of the corridor? You guys are blocking people's way."

You quickly hide your face in your hands.

Awkwardly, Kalim speaks up, "A-Ah, Jamil, can you please prepare us some food?"

"Mm..Alright. C'mon." Jamil leads the way to the Scarabia mirror.

After Jamil finishes preparing your guys' meals, he turns to leave the room.

Kalim mouths to Jamil, "Thank you."

"Just talk whatever it is out" he mouths back.

Creak

Shut

Kalim clears his throat. "Y/N. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"'m tired..I hate this place..The bullying, the overblots, that irresponsible headmage, and my home being taken away from me. I'm tired, Kalim."

Upon hearing this, Kalim engulfs you in a hug.

He doesn't say anything. He just listens attentively.

It felt warm. Like a comfortable blanket embracing you and protecting you from the harsh reality.

After calming down a bit, you move away from the hug.

You felt tempted to lean back into his embrace, but that would be too selfish. It would be unfair to Kalim.

But little do you know that Kalim himself had to stop himself from wrapping you in his arms once again.

"Kalim, I hope you'll be happy with her."

"Her?"

"I mean, the person you love. Obviously, I heard you talking about it earlier." You chuckle, although it sounds strained.

"Hmm, well, I'm always happy with you!"

"Eh?" You pause.

'Did I hear that wrong..?'

"Ahah..I think I heard you wrong, Kalim."

"Heard what wrong? It's true! I'm always happy when I'm together with you!" He gives his signature bright smile that could rival even the sun itself.

'Me..Her..Happy..'

'Wait!'

"Y-you mean me?! You like, no, love me!?" You blush.

"Of course! Who else would I love?"

It was then that you noticed how his eyes seemed to shine so bright; he's looking at you only, all his attention on you, as if nothing else matters right now but you.

"Oh right! Let's eat before the food gets cold!"

"Yeah..!" You turn to the already cold food. 'Oh well, Jamil's food is the best, so I'm sure it still tastes good'

A while later..

"I didn't expect you to confess so bluntly."

"Hm? Wait, what?"

'..I just basically confessed twice. This is so embarrassing!' He blushes

.ೃ࿐Reblogs are highly appreciated! ^^

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janknabobfdi · 12 days

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i stayed up till 3 am making this

#total drama #total drama island #tdi #td #td ezekiel #ezekiel total drama #total drama ezekiel #ezekiel td #class of 09 #class of 09 nicole #nicole #cw bullying #nicole class of 09 #c09 #c09 nicole #nicole c09

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theoddest1 · 2 months

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Guess which post got mass reported, and is getting called fake, faker, and fakest by Vivziepop's cult. That's right! The DOC THAT THEY HATE SO MUCH.

#hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin fandom #hazbin fandom critical #anti vivziepop #fandom critical #fandom criticism #bullying #cw sui #cw bullying

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yeehawpim · 8 months

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scene from Mentopolis ep 2

#dimension 20 #mentopolis #conrad schintz #alex song xia #my art #d20 fanart #my comic #cw sharps #cw bullying #cw childhood trauma #alex making this up was so intense I loved it

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ilhoonftw · 2 months

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#cw death #cw bullying #cw transphobia

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mimis-memes · 1 year

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🍎 ｡:*• ─ WEREWOLF PLOTS. › ( a compilation of plot ideas involving werewolves, suitable for both modern days and past eras/AUs. )

1. The cure — muse A is a scientist who, having had a bad experience with werewolves in the past ( maybe they barely escaped from an attack ? maybe they’ve seen a loved one being attacked/kidnapped by werewolves ? maybe they’re the descendant of a deceased wolf-hunter ? ), has dedicated their whole life to find a cure for lycanthropy. One day they find and kidnap muse B, a werewolf, to keep in their lab and learn more about their condition, maybe even do some testing and experimenting on them. How will their relationship develop ? Will A learn that there’s more to werewolves than meets the eye ? Could they make peace with the past and accept B for what they are ? Or will they forcefully cure them ? Will B turn against their captor ? Try to escape or punish them by turning them into what they most despise ?

2. The hunt — muse A and muse B come from an old, renowned clan of werewolf hunters ( they could be siblings, cousins, a couple or just friends ) . They’re considered the best, but during a particularly difficult hunt, muse A makes a mistake and gets attacked by the werewolf, who escapes unharmed. Now they both know it’s only a matter of time before A also turns into one of the creatures they’ve hunt all of their lives. Will B put their old beliefs and traditions above all and abandon A ? Maybe even try to kill them ? Will both of them return to their clan and pretend nothing happened for as long as they can, while trying to look for a cure ? Will this give them and their clan a whole new perspective on werewolves, or will everything remain the same ? And what if they end up face to face with the werewolf that bit A ? Will they still want revenge, try to learn more about A’s condition, become friends with the wolf ? ( As an alternative, muse B can be the werewolf, instead of muse’s A hunting partner. )

3. The prophecy — muse A and muse B are two werewolves born on the same night ( maybe they’re twins, or just belong to the same pack ? maybe different packs ? ), fitting the exact description of an ancient prophecy that says that one of them is destined to bring peace, while the other is fated to start a pack war. As they grew up, have they always known about this prophecy ? How has it affected them and/or their relationship with each other ? Is it apparent which of them will bring peace and who will bring war ? Do they even believe the prophecy or will do anything in their power to prove it wrong ? And what if, in their efforts to escape their fate, they end up fulfilling it ? Could a pack war be necessary to ultimately achieve peace ?

4. The willing victim — muse A has never been popular ( maybe they were considered the “weird kid” at school and suffered bullying growing up ? maybe they’ve moved a lot and never made friends ? ), struggling with lack of confidence and never being taken seriously by their co-workers and/or love interests. With little to no social life, they had plenty of time to dedicate to something that has always fascinated them — werewolves ! Having watched all the movies and read all the books, muse A knows all the lore about werewolves, so when they meet muse B ( a new roommate/neighbor/co-worker ? someone they met at a bar or just passing by ? ) it doesn’t take them long to notice some signs and recognize them for what they truly are. Will A confront B with this ? Will B try to deny the truth ? Will A see this as an opportunity to be more than what they’ve always been and beg B to turn them into a werewolf as well ? Maybe even blackmail them into it ? Will B give in ? And if yes, would they try to take care of the new wolf, teaching them all they know ? Would A try to impress the people in their life with their new powers, maybe even take revenge ? How would the relationship between A and B develop ?

5. The new pup — muse A had a one night stand with a stranger and ends up pregnant, but something isn’t quite right, as they tend to sleepwalk and have a peculiar craving for raw meet, especially when there’s a full moon. Muse B is taking care of them ( they could be a friend, a family member, a house keeper, etc... ) and, secretly being a werewolf, knows exactly what is wrong with muse A. Will they tell A ? Will they assist them in birthing and raising a baby werewolf ? ( Alternatively, if muse A is male, they could have had a one night stand with a stranger and, nine months later, a baby is left at their door. Muse B is a friend / partner / family member / roommate living with them and, being a werewolf, knows exactly why this baby isn’t like any other they’ve seen before. )

6. Tale as old as time — muse A is a werewolf, muse B is a vampire. Ignoring the centuries-old war between the two species, they love each other. Will they be able to conceal this relationship from their clans ? Pretend to hate and fight each other in the presence of others, while secretly meeting afterwards ? What if they were discovered ? Would they run away together, fueling the war even more ? Would their familial bonds speak louder than love ? Or could love be the answer and the beginning of a truce ? What if an hybrid child had been conceived ? And what if muse A is betrothed to the alpha of their wolf pack ? Would they end up fulfilling their duty and abandon their vampire lover, in order to protect them ? ( As an alternative, muse B can be the alpha to whom A is promised. How would they react to the news that their betrothed had been with a vampire ? Could they look past it and still accept A ? Could A learn to love B ? )

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sugoi-and-spice · 2 months

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Ask of me debauchery....

...and you shall fucking receive.

Step by Step: A Gecko’s Guide to Becoming a Really Bad Person

Part One

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!!

Summary: In which, Bully!Reader manipulates Step-Bro!Spinner sexually in increasingly demeaning ways. And eventually, he asks his good ol’ pal Tomura Shigaraki for help.

CW: Step-brother, Dub-Con, Blackmail, Bullying, Mean Reader, Male Masturbation, Oral Sex, Spinner has two dicks, Step-cest, Monster-fucking, AU - No League of Villains

A/N: I predict people are gonna be maaaaaad about this one and I'm all for it lol

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

Her step-brother, Shuichi Iguchi, was a fucking loser. She knew it from the moment she saw him. And not in a prejudiced way or anything, it wasn’t because he was a heteromorph. After all, she has plenty of heteromorph friends (none quite as extreme as him, but still!)

No, it was all the other things she noticed about him when he walked into the family restaurant with his Dad the first day they met. The way he carried himself, slouching and fidgeting endlessly, unable to decide if he should cross his arms, put them in his pockets, or keep them at his side. The way he dressed, a ridiculously faded crewneck, baggy cargo pants, and a freebie League of Legends snapback that only served to further curtain his greasy long hair in his face. When she actually managed to grab a glimpse of his eyes through the locks, it was only for a second, and they were constantly shifting, dropping, unspeakably nervous.

Even in a casual setting, he looked completely out of place. He practically jumped anytime anyone asked him the most basic of questions like “how’s school”, “what do you want to drink”, “can you pass the soy sauce”. It was like he’d just been dragged out of his bedroom for the first time in five years — and she wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case.

She also wouldn’t have been surprised if this was the first time he’d ever been this close to a girl before, as he always looked especially panicked anytime he realized she was glancing at him, so she didn’t even really bother trying to talk to him that night, focussing instead on getting to know he future step-father — who seemed like an overall decent guy.

At the very least, Iguchi seemed to understand his status well. When she entered high school — the same one as him — he didn’t try to walk with her to or from school, didn’t try and talk to her, basically pretended like they didn’t even know each other, which she appreciated. She would’ve hated to have to be a bitch and tell him to get lost in front of all her new high school friends and potentially be reprimanded by her Mom to prove a point (of course, she would’ve if she had to).

Yes, her new step-brother was a fucking loser, someone she wouldn’t be caught dead talking to, let alone spending any meaningful time with in public.

And yet somehow, she was completely infatuated with him.

She loved the way his skin looked, the different viridescent shades it took on depending on what angle or lighting she saw it in. She loved even more the way it felt, the times when his hands brushed against hers when he handed her a bowl or she bumped shoulders with him, cool and impossibly smooth with a texture so different from her own. She’d wanted to run her hand across every inch of it, to feel every difference. Just imagining it pressing and rubbing all across her own body had her gasping into her pillow for hours.

She didn’t know how the fuck it happened. It would’ve been great if she did, because maybe she could make it unhappen then. But nope, the harder she tried to understand it, the further away the answer seemed to get.

Maybe it was because he was so different from her or anyone else she would ever actually consider dating. Had their parents not gotten married, she never would’ve let herself give Iguchi the time of day. But within the walls of this family home, she was able to enjoy and explore him to her heart’s content. She was inquisitive by nature. Her friends called it sadistic, but she saw it as just wanting to see how far she could take things. And the desire to do so to Shuichi Iguchi was no different. He was so sweet and so shy, so eager to please or be invisible to everyone around him.

She wanted to see where that ended, what exact buttons she could press to get him to actually snap at her.

It started with little things at first, innocent things. Asking him to do her chores, her homework, even her shopping, yet he could never say no to her. Not even when she asked him to go buy her a set of lacy lingerie she was wanting. He actually fucking did it — handing the little pink boutique bag out to her without looking her in the eye, his skin flushed all the way down to his neck. Oh, she knew then that he was going to be fun .

That with him, she could really get… creative.

Flirting with him shamelessly, hanging out on his bed in nothing but a pair of panties and a tank top she’d stolen from him while he played video games, throwing her legs over his lap during family movie nights, pretending she didn’t notice how warm and fidgety it made him while she continued to move her calves back and forth across his crotch.

There came a point when she thought that maybe the guy was just unbreakable, that he really didn’t have a single impure thought about her in his head and that this wasn’t a game, but just an infuriating (not to mention insulting ) exercise in futility.

But then, late one night, through the thin wall they shared, she heard it. The sound of flesh against flesh, muffled grunts.

Her name, breathy but distinctive, on his tongue.

Shuichi Iguchi, her dear, perfectly behaved, and endlessly timid older step-brother, was in his bed, jacking off.

Imagining her .

And it wasn’t a one time incident either. She listened closely in the following days, and discovered that it was a nightly occurrence, that she was a nightly occurrence to him. And it wasn’t long before she joined him in his fantasizing, spending night after night pressed as close into the wall as she could get, imagining that that stupid piece of plaster dividing their beds was gone, as she fingered herself to sleep.

It should’ve gotten easier after that, she should’ve been able to extend her patience knowing that it was an actual possibility now. But if anything, it made the burn within her even worse, knowing that it was so close yet so far out of reach. She didn’t just want this, she fucking needed this. But it’s not like she could let him know that. She couldn’t let him think that she wanted it, that she wanted him . She needed it to seem like mercy.

She needed to have the upperhand.

So, she started setting traps. Things she could use against him, to get him into the palm of her hand, a place where he didn’t say no just because he didn’t want to say no, but so that he couldn’t say no. She asked him to get things from her room and left sex toys out, wore skimpier and skimpier outfits that she could catch him staring at her in, left her phone out so that he could read her lewd messages to other boys at school.

Yet still, nothing.

Iguchi didn’t step a single clawed toe out of line outside of the four walls of his bedroom. He was the perfectly polite older brother that she knew and hated to love.

It wasn’t until she wasn’t even trying to trap him that he finally took the bait.

Continue on AO3

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