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inkskinned · 1 year

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oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.

oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.

oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.

which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.

but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.

which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.

and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!

and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.

the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!

and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -

what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.

and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.

#i hate when people try to tell me i didn't do it right #what should i have done better #i did it ALL the right way #(not that there is a right way)#it's just that others feel comfortable believing that THEY did it the right way and that's how they made money #whereas i must have just committed a sin somewhere in there! i MUST be doing it wrong!!!#and i'm not a victim!!! im simply experiencing consequences!#and im like. where . where. wherewherewherewhere #i graduated top of my class. i was almost the student speaker.#i have always excelled at work and i work hard #i have been working since i was 13 #WHERE !!!!! IS MY FUCKING !!!! MONEY!!!!!!#ps please do not make the assumption i am ablebodied or neurotypical.#i am neither of these things.#it DOES get worse if u are either of those things. so fuckin much #but @ the one anon who was like ''u could be X that would be worse u don't know how lucky u are''#.... don't i?#do i need to be luckier than someone else #or is it possible we are BOTH victims?#and that we need to work TOGETHER to resolve it #not just wave it off since it COULD be harder for someone else... it can be true we BOTH deserve better

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euseokz · 1 month

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@ eunseok — if only you knew just how crazy you’re driving me . . cws : oral (f) . overstimulation . wc : 1.1k+ . genre : smut

FWB! EUNSEOK who keeps an almost professional relationship with you.

all you guys do is fuck, that’s it, that’s all he wants, and he has made it obvious since the beginning. he doesn’t want to catch feelings, much less for you to fall for him, so he keeps his distance, only hits you up when he wants your body, and only goes to you when you call him because you want his. he even has a “no kisses” policy, adamant that you two never share any pecks even, the rule applying to anywhere on your bodies, because that apparently only creates attachment.

surprisingly enough, you were alright with eunseok and his stupid set of demands. you did get something good out of it either way — a good fuck and way of destressing, that is — and it wasn’t like he was unbearable or anything, just a tad bit too careful maybe. it was fine though, his carefulness if anything helpful.

when you fucked, eunseok liked to have you laid on his bed, legs thrown over his arms so he could pin you in place while he pistoned his hips into yours, not even bothering with looking up at your eyes, only focused at the way your pussy sucked his cock so well. strands of his hair would fall over his face, sticking to his forehead with the thin layer of sweat that covered it, low groans slipping past his rosy lips while his fingers dug into your thighs almost harshly. eunseok fucked you well, made you feel so good you almost forgot who you were at some points. there was just something about the way he moved, how effortlessly good he looked, how fucking well his dick fitted into your pussy and how his tip always hit against the right spot inside you with every single one of his thrusts. he knew what he was doing, knew how to make you two feel good, and that was all that mattered you supposed, nothing more needed.

you always took whatever eunseok gave you, followed his lead and allowed him to do whatever he thought best. even on the rare occasion that he pulled you to his lap, giving you a fake sense of control by being the one on top of him, he still managed to be the one fucking you, either by planting his hands on your hips and moving you up and down his dick at whichever pace he thought best, or by holding you still in place and fucking up into you. it felt good either way, so you allowed it, letting your lids fall close as you moaned about how good it was, holding onto his wrists or placing your palms against eunseok’s flushed chest for support, immersing yourself in the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of you so deliciously.

surprisingly enough, and maybe because there still was some weird kind of barrier between you two, even with how intimate you supposedly were, you never moaned eunseok’s name, and he never moaned yours, all your pretty sounds reserved to being either incoherent mewls or begs for more, no nicknames being exchanged either. neither of you had ever said that was a hard no, but you also never did it for some reason — until you did, and somehow that seemed to unlock something inside eunseok’s brain.

you had just gotten to eunseok’s apartment. it was a late friday night, and your week had been stressful to say the least. you wanted a way to relax, and eunseok knew that, your tired expression enough of a hint, so that was what he did, laying you down on his bed and undressing you silently, giving you one quick look before wrapping his arms around your upper thighs, spreading your legs so he could lay between them, his face near your pussy as he peeked his tongue out, it’s tip flicking almost experimentally over your clit. you hummed pleased, letting your shoulders finally fall down and closing your eyes, allowing yourself to immerse in the pleasure and simply rest back, moaning as you felt eunseok toy with the sensitive bud, licking it persistently but gently, applying just enough force to make arousal bubble in the pit of your stomach. it felt good, entirely too good, the way eunseok’s tongue kept on lapping at your clit, that was. eventually, the pink muscle drifted down and pressed into your hole, one of his fingers now circling the swollen bud instead, making you roll your eyes, you back arching ever so slightly as your fingers moved to hold strands of eunseok’s hair, pulling at them and bringing him closer to you, stuffing his face against your pussy. he only groaned, not protesting it at all, the fingers on his free hand digging harder into your inner thigh, pressing strongly against the plush flesh.

your moans were getting louder, your pleasure only increasing in magnitude, and before you knew it your high was starting to quickly build up, your orgasm hitting you hard, leaving your mind hazy with lust, and without even noticing it, amidst your loud moans, you whined eunseok’s name. it passed you by, but the same couldn’t be applied to the man between your legs, the way you professed his name making him tense up for a second before feeling his cock ache in his pants, looking up at your blissful face before deciding to continue.

eunseok wrapped his arms tighter around your upper thighs, keeping you in place while placing both hands on your pussy, using is thumbs to spread your folds and going back to lapping at your clit, this time more desperately, closing his eyes and focusing only on your taste, on how you felt against him. soon enough you could feel yourself getting overstimulated, and it wasn’t like eunseok was ever one to push you like that, so you tugged at his hair, getting surprised when he didn’t budge, if anything only seeming more eager to keep doing what he was doing — so you let him, moaning louder, arching your back and letting the overwhelming pleasure take over you, your pleas for more getting more constant, and each time you subconsciously said eunseok’s name your second orgasm coincidently seemed to draw itself closer, until you were finally cumming again, your clit twitching against eunseok’s tongue as your high washed over you once more.

then, and only because he needed to catch his breath too, eunseok pulled back, unwrapping his arms from around you and leaning back, moving to sit in front of you.

“what was all of that about?” you asked, breathless, looking up at eunseok, noticing how his cheeks were tinted with a pretty pink tone, his lips rosy and shiny with a mix of your arousal and his own saliva.

“something about how you said my name, it drove me crazy” he replied while moving up to you, hands stopping on either side of your head while his face was mere inches away from yours. “i need you to do it again… say my name again while i fuck you”

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pinksugardollz · 11 months

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Self Care Guide For Bad Mental Health Days

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ let yourself cry! feeling sad when you have bpd can feel like the world is ending, but it isn’t. feeling sad is normal, and it’s completely okay. don’t demonise your emotions. let it out

♡ cuddle with your pets! cats are absolutely amazing for this, dogs too. lil furry babies make me so happy and cheer me up so much when im feeling low

♡ take as many naps as you need without guilt. rest rest rest, even on your good days! stop overworking yourself

♡ shower, you don’t have to do your full routine, just make sure you wash yourself then apply your favourite lotion and sweet scented perfume

♡ cosy up and watch something that makes you happy. nostalgic tv shows are great, on my bad days i really love watching spongebob bratz or strawberry shortcake

♡ invest in a 2L water bottle and keep it by your bed for those low motivation days

♡ light your favourite bakery scented candle, sweet scents always uplift my mood

♡ do not isolate yourself, try to keep in contact with friends or family

♡ eat some chocolate or chips, whatever your favourite comfort food is. your happiness is more important than your diet

♡ if you’re struggling to get out of bed, try keeping everything you need on your bedside table so you can still do your skincare routines and take your daily vitamins from your bed

♡ run a nice relaxing bubble bath!!!

♡ put on some cosy pjs & grab a pink fluffy blanket and snuggle on the sofa instead of staying in bed all day

♡ set rules for yourself, write some things you that want to achieve in a day. such as keeping your skin moisturised, shower twice a day, drink enough water, getting out of bed. anything that applies to you. self care can become confusing and daunting, so write everything down to remind yourself to look after and cherish yourself

♡ make sure you’re eating enough. even if you’re not feeling hungry, if you don’t have the energy to cook, order takeout! it’s ok to eat takeout sometimes, just not all of the time as junk food can be highly addictive, and obviously isn’t very good for you

♡ try writing down your thoughts and feelings. i love journaling and covering the pages with pink stickers and making it look all pretty, it’s so therapeutic

♡ reach out to a mental health professional if things get too bad. this may feel hard, but if you need help desperately pls get it

♡ acknowledge that what you’re feeling is just temporary, whatever you’re feeling won’t last forever

♡ make sure you’re getting enough sleep. whenever i didn’t get enough sleep in the past, i would sometimes start seeing and hearing things, and would become very paranoid and disassociated, which is obviously not what anyone wants. so pls pls pls make sure you’re prioritising your sleep

♡ treat yourself, buy something pink and pretty just because you can

♡ take a day or 2 off work (if allowed)

tiny disclaimer: these tips may seem obvious to those of you without serious mental health problems, and they may be things you do everyday but when someone with mental health problems is in a really bad place, they can sometimes forget how to look after themselves properly, or in my case a few years ago i would just stop caring about myself. i love all of my pretty sugar dollies so much, look after yourselves and i really hope some of these tips help you 🎀🦢

#bpd recovery #cptsd recovery #my diary 🦢

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getodrools · 4 months

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dr nanami 😫 ? hes helping u while ur husband is on the other side? plsss, love ur work! :)

NOTE. i am literally biting u nonnie ! why does a doctor role just fit him SOO well ??! ig his gaunt professionalism rlly just gets these engines going fr 🚂 … buutt thanku for requesting ! i hope u enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing this. muaaah ! <3

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! reader. modern (doctor) au. breeding. infidelity. mentions of: pregnancy, babies. praising. public sex (ultrasound room). squirting x2. fingering. creampie. cervix/ womb fucking. overstimulation. | WC –> 1.0k+ est ! !

“your husband could apply some pressure riiight here.”

with a gentle poke to your tummy followed by a deep jab wiggling into the soft channel of spongy walls that flex around thick hands, you can't help but wriggle beneath him. wriggling beneath the doctor who watches how you pant out with hazed vision as he does his job. the very tempting job you inquired for after months of difficulties of getting round with baring babies for your loving husband, naoya…

and the assiduous doctor was more than willing to help, calling you in the very next day — leading to being pressed into a bed found in an ultrasound room with legs spread and a pussy being stuffed.

“juuust enough to make you cum harder.” nanami scissored with long digits ‘till squishy flesh creamed a ring to his second knuckle. even with the spurt of clear glitter rivering down a trench to his own, he saw beyond the obvious pulchritude of your cunt glistening with sappy slick; even spying through the webs that string between his fingers.

the slight tinker of metal clashing to the floor with pants crinkled below, you never grew wary or dared to question his esoteric abilities — not that it felt wrong to question, to begin with…

mr. nanami is your doctor, simply doing his job to heed your highest satisfaction — of course.

“now… it's a lot easier to get you expectant,” nanami laps a slimy tongue around soaked fingers. “see, when a woman cums, her hormone production and blood supply rises — which increases the chances of pregnancy.” he adds with a grim slash for a mouth and a handful of cock meat prodding at your side.

you've never heard of such treatment and help that can improve this process, but who were you — an unemployed housewife to a man who knows best for you to say otherwise?

though, as you lay with legs spread, your husband was never cognizant of his own truths and you didn't beg to differ. his — naoya’s, myopic stance scratched like chalk; etching along his very bitterness towards you, foaming that this was best as he sat in the very busy hall in cluelessness bordering on temerity.

but like any doctor, nanami had a clairvoyant way of knowing when a diffident patient was ready to burst out with a walloping scream for more as he stood tall between your legs. dragging your hips nearly off the edge to clap your rear against his pale pelvis.

“and, a little competition won't hurt,” your brows hook inwards, “my… sperm will get your eggs warmed up n’ ready for his later, ok?” trying hard to stay professional.

nanami smuged before aligning his thick, bulbous cock head and slowly applied pressure between your slippery folds. squishing the puffy flesh down ‘till they sucked him in with a scandalized gasp to follow.

he sheathed himself entirely into your warmth.

eyes knocking back, almost as too hard your head follows; slamming into the covers when the raw stroke of his cock rubs thickly along fleshy walls. the paper-like sheets rip trails beneath as you scrape into a fit of seeking a haven.

the ramming of every offered inch collapsed your chest; heaving into a puddle of pure bliss whilst filling the room with wet noises of slaps and clapping flesh. he was filling your spongy walls with a barreling, rhythmic pace, and at each heavy mass clapping into a full stride, he was reaching deep, “feel that?”

kento — mr. nanami, rubbed his soft prickly base against your sensitive nerves; forcing an ache of his bulbous tip poking right against your cervix. a jab and a prod, and a continuous tease up against your perk cushion raised your ongoing chorus. fevered at each bruising punch of his hips, you can feel a coil ready to spring.

with his cock rubbing in and out of you, the soft walls you tighten around his base spasm; gushing cunt spilling a new puddle beneath your ass as he fucked you raw. fucking you ‘till your mouth couldn't close for a mere second, only whines and brutal moans could escape.

“your husband might hear… do you need a second, miss?” nanami claps a barred hand between your lips as the other kept a vice that dug into the meat of your ass.

his lips tighten into a thin smile as your eyes unfocus, and he acknowledges he was fucking you in a way you never dreamed of; giving you thick dick meat was one, but a barreling pounding was another…

you shake your head and try to recollect yourself.

the pillar of his cock slowed and found its pace again once you caught your breath. a mere second that was.

dragging every inch of pleasure from your plush pussy and the aching satisfaction of having a weeping channel hug him raw was unbelievable.

squeezing his eyes to the blissful relief, he could feel a tingle at his balls.

the rapid satisfaction building at each clap of his hips, nanami dragged his heavy cock against your insides; scouring them. smashing every pleasure point before bashing at your womb. with a final gasp — from both, wet mouths, nanami’s balls tightened and were ready to pop. the rhythmic contractions from your snug tunnel was wearing him down to his final thrusts and helped him reach where he was heading…

cervix bruised and walls aching, a geyser of warm cum surged against the entrance to your womb.

nanami groaned with a resonant moan followed as he emptied out everything he had into your soft insides. filling every cavity with merciless intent of mindless-breeding.

your eyes glaze over.

shivering at the warm fill but could only suck in deep breaths between the gaps of his hand.

keeping you upright with his grasp, nanami slowly… ever so slowly, dragged his mighty cock out, and watched how the sticky mess slowly oozed from your pussy. but finally, with a lewd pop, his cock came free and bobbed downwards while a rush of baby batter came falling in drops.

he frees your mouth and followed, you gasp with a mixture of a shuttering moan and an aching whine; feeling the bruising blossom anew at your perk and now-filled womb….

“check in with me in nine or so months, alright? or unless you feel like you just need an extra boost.” your doctor takes a mental screenshot of your shivering body and plush pussy leaking milky white.

still yet, you nod your head with the last of your energy.

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE NANAMI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮!#💌 !#ᝰ kento nanami!#nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #kento nanami #tw pregnancy #tw public sex #tw cervix fucking

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eee-lordy · 4 months

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Hiiii! Can you write about jacob elordi x fem reader who is in charge of the makeup and outfits on saltburn or elvis?

Maybe there is a video going viral where he is looking at her (WITH THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES HAHSHAJDVDSJ IM GONNA EAT HIM) while she is doing his make up and she is clueless, yk those videos where the music is lana del rey and the caption is like "me when im literaly obsessed with her" or "when hes completely in love with u>>>>>"

And when that goes viral, the cast teases him and they go on a date?

Idk i think its cute :3

───※ ·❆· ※───

You were never one to get star struck. In the year and a half you'd been professionally applying makeup to the mugs of many stars, you'd been unfazed by celebrities captivating auras. You hardly blushed when Chris Pine tried asking you out as he sat in your makeup chair. You'd laughed in understandable assurance as Billie Eilish apologized for almost knocking your powder kit from your grasp; when her brother burst in the room to surprise her. You saw your clients as just that, people who trusted you to properly apply blush and fake scars.

But all the composure you'd been proud to claim went out the window when you'd been assigned to work with the cast of Sofia Coppola new film. You hadn't expected to lose your cool. In fact, you'd been rolling your eyes as the hair stylist that shared your caravan had droned on and on about this new Elordi fellow and how dreamy he was. Some of the other workers in the hair and makeup department parroted her yearning for the guy. But you were certain you'd remain calm and cool in this supposed deities presence.

And then he sat down in your chair. And he looked up to you with an intriguing set of droopy dark eyes. And you knew Jacob Elordi was about to be a real problem for you.

It wasn't his fame. You weren't swept up by his essence because of the collective crowd on the internet drooling over the guy. It wasn't even his magnetism. Because he did have a lot of that, you wavered it was necessary to survive fame. But it was more the way he would look up at you from that make up chair. With those dumb stupid big beautiful eyes. And his smile that followed. And then the infuriating way he'd start conversations with you, those first few days on set.

"What'd you have for breakfast this morning?" Jacob would wonder, watching as you readied a sponge. You would answer and ask for his in return. He would mention stopping by a cafe earlier and go on to ask you where you grew up and if you liked it there and what the best book you've ever read was called.

"You've got to stop chatting away, makes it hard to do your touch up's." You'd smile, reaching out to adjust Jacobs perfect fucking face so you could work on his brows.

"Sorry." He breathed out, seemingly genuinely guilty. He went on explaining himself still, slowly as you continued to do your job. "Don't like awkward silence. Or bullshit small talk. Getting to know you seemed like the safest route. Since you'll be covering the dark circles under my eye's this whole shoot."

You laughed in understanding before announcing that you got it, and waved over the hairdresser on site today.

"Wait, before you go, that book you mentioned..." Jacob pointed your way as you turned for closing up your kit of brushes. Then you watched as the guy wrestled his cellphone from his jacket pocket. "Here," Jacob said, extending the device your way. "Write the title in my notes app. I will forget, but I don't want too. It sounded properly readable."

"Oh." You turned your lips down in a twisted grin of surprise. As you took the device from Jacob's grasp, you felt a surge of gratification that the guy trusted you enough with his phone let alone wanted to read a book you mention not having read since uni.

Not missing the way the hairdresser rolled her eyes, you grinned and found Jacobs notes app with ease, straining not to glance beyond your means. With the press of a few buttons you wrote down the title, and fought off the impulsive urge to include your very own phone number as well. That would be embarrassing, knowing full well this man would never call or text or probably even dare to glance your way beyond the makeup chair.

///

The next few weeks went by the same. Jacob would yammer away until you almost had to hold his mouth shut to finish his makeup. And you would fill the silence by telling stories of your own, because he'd mentioned he wasn't fond of silence and you knew your job went beyond applying lip liner, it was also to keep celebrities happy as royalty.

And all the while you blinked away thoughts of how funny he was. How beautiful Jacob was. You wouldn't let yourself realize he was exactly your type. You wouldn't let yourself dream that you might be his. You simply relished the times you made him laugh. Once you made him laugh so hard he cried, tear tracks ruining the powder you'd only just applied.

The hairdresser who was the leader of fawning over Jacob as soon as he left the room had taken to frowning in your direction most days. You reckoned it was because she'd never been able to make him laugh that hard, or at all, ever. And the stories she told him when he asked her to seemed to lose his interest halfway through every time. Try as Jacob might, you saw his eyes glaze over as the hairstylist droned on about her retirement plan or the grocery list she'd put together that day.

After acknowledging her sorry excuse for conversation Jacob would stop you from packing up and heading to lunch so he could ask you for more books to read, more films to watch, more stories from you. Then his assistant would interrupt, or he'd be called to set and you'd be left to head to the craft table with dangerous feelings of lust and intrigue to push away. You would not let this boy break you of your career long streak of professionalism, damn it.

///

One night, in the middle of a week break from set, you spent an evening scrolling mindlessly. When a tiktok with Jacob's name in the tags popped up, you scrolled away at the speed of light. You didn't let yourself linger too long on posts with him there, not wanting to know anything good bad or otherwise so long as you were assigned to work with him on this project. But it wasn't long before another tiktok popped up featuring the guy in a very familiar setting. He was too famous at this point. You watched as you saw leaked footage from behind the scenes of Priscilla, but weren't too shocked. The stars of the film were occasionally being interviewed by publicists between takes to document their experience, beginning to promote the film.

And maybe you let yourself keep watching out of a sense of entitlement, you'd been working on this set. You could watch a video of Jacob from work, right? You couldn't tear your eyes from him no matter how hard you tried now anyway. You watched as the person holding the camera zoomed in on the guy while he adjusted his suit jacket. You watched as he seemed to talk to the costars at his side. You watched as he looked up and smiled. And you couldn't help but melt a little at the sight, he seemed so happy, so at ease. And then you watched as Jacob's grin widened as he waved someone closer. And much to your horror, you saw yourself step into frame.

You remembered that day, where you waited on the side lines to fix Cailee's eyeliner. While the director was storming up a new camera angle, Jacob waved you over to mention the last chapter of your favorite book he'd almost finished reading. He was laughing over a bit that you'd warned him about the week before. And you were laughing over how excited he was about it, finally having someone to gush over your favorite plot with.

Now, huddled beneath the blankets of your bed, you slammed your phone down at your side, bewildered to know someone had caught your interaction on camera. Raddled to have just seen Jacob lighting up at the sight of you. Angry at yourself for hopping you'd read his body language in a way that suggested he really liked you that much.

When you picked your phone back up, you watched the candid moment over and over, trying to debunk Jacob's smile. Trying to convince yourself he was only being friendly, only cared because he had to find someone to mingle with during down beats.

And then you read the comments.

"If Jacob smiled at me like that, I would die."

"Imagine making him laugh like that she's so lucky."

"Who is she??" One comment read. "Her last name will be Elordi if he hasn't married her already, calling it." Someone replied.

You shouldn't have read the comments.

///

When you were due back on set you swallowed away the excitement bubbling up in you at the prospect of seeing Jacob again. This was so unlike you, to be awaiting the arrival of your client with an embarrassing giddiness. As you reminded yourself that this was your job and Jacob was simply a guest in your makeup chair- the man himself eased into the caravan, ready to get ready for the day.

"Hey, you! I had a bunch of points earned up to get two free coffees so I brought you one. I remember you said you like almond milk so I asked for that." Jacob was all smiles as he extended a latte to you. Awe fuck.

"Thank you, Jacob." You struggled not to sigh with angst as you accepted his very generous surprise. Luckily, he seemed none the wiser that you'd answered through gritted teeth. He just kept smiling as he headed to your chair.

"Oh, me first today lovie. Need to start your dye straight off, you're little makeup girlfriend will have to wait." The hairdresser announced, daring to grab Jacob by his sleeve, yanking him toward her end of the trailer. The other workers around rolled their eyes, sick of her endless commentary. You bit your tongue as you leaned against the counter, shaking your head when a coworker scoffed in the hairdresser's direction. Luckily, Cailee waltz in, ready for you before anyone else. You thanked God for the distraction, readying your brow pencil and chatted to the girl about her break from set.

All the while, your least favorite coworkers voice demanded to be the loudest in the room. She made everyone listen to some boring ass story and practically whinnied when Jacob got up to trade Cailee places.

"No offence, you're fine and all, just don't have hair as silky smooth as Jacob's." The hairdresser told Cailee but made sure her comment was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh wait, silly me,"

As Jacob settled in the makeup chair and began to ask if the drink he'd brought you was good, the hairdresser of your nightmares shoved her way between you and the person you were meant to be working on.

"I left of a bobby pin, how'd I forget," She droned in an annoying pitch, nearly shoving you over in her attempt to get closer to Jacob.

"Can you please get out of my space?" You called, annoyed that she was pushing you away from your station without a single polite excuse.

"Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch?" The hairdresser whipped to face you with a manic smile.

"Oh my God?" You almost laughed in shock at her comment when another coworker dared to reach out and pulled her away, and out of the trailer. Another hairdresser apologized to the room for the previous girl's behavior and stepped up to lead charge of Cailee's wig.

With no time to shake the rage that had been born in you, you pushed it down, biting your lip hard as you went about finding the right sponge for Jacob's foundation.

"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried. And that pissed you off too. Why'd he have to act like he cared so much? Why'd he have to be so damn wonderful?

"I'm fine. Thank you again for the coffee, it...is kind of bitter but it was a really sweet gesture, I swear. Close your eye's please." You responded as calm and cool as possible.

"Bitter... sweet..." Jacob winked, just for you to see. It was the best thing you'd ever witness. And the worst all the same. You were sure you blushed. You tilted his chin and struggling to suppress how much you'd miss when you didn't get to be this close to him. He stayed quiet as you finished his face, and so did you. When his makeup was done, almost everyone else had left the trailer. The last remaining beautician was walking out as you'd closed the case to your kit.

"I thought you didn't like awkward silence." You dared to mention, as Jacob stood to leave. It wasn't like you'd thought to ask. It was just a thought that ended up blurted out. And then you were bold enough still to look up and right at the guy with those perfectly shaped eyes to find he'd already been staring right at you.

"S'not so awkward with you."

You really wish he hadn't said that. You really wished you'd never prompted him too. You really wished he wasn't still standing there looking across the features of your face like he was waiting on you to respond. There was a knock on the door just in time, and a voice calling for Jacob to hurry to set.

"I'll see you after lunch, right?" Jacob wondered as he moved toward the door. You muttered something like "Yeah sure," as you turned to start collecting your things. As far as Jacob knew you were headed to the craft table. But as your feet started marching out of the trailer, you found yourself headed toward the manager of the crew you'd been hired in with. You explained to her that you really thought it was best you turned in your resignation.

You'd never dared yourself to tread the line during work. Never been so enamored with someone you were meant to be professional with. It wasn't in your best interest to see how far this went. And it wasn't in Jacobs best interest that you kept lingering around distracting him with stories and novel suggestions.

So, on a decided whim, you packed your things, swallowed frustrated tears, and headed home for good.

///

You let yourself be mad once your front door was shut and locked. You threw away the stupid coffee Jacob bought you. You turned the telly off and tossed the remote toward the hardwood when Euphoria came on. You muttered and cursed and slammed cabinets as you made a carb heavy comfort meal and called your best friend.

The day went on and turned to night as you tried to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You began getting ready for bed, talking yourself into sleeping off all the weird feelings and events that had transpired today. Tomorrow, you'd find a new job and make sure to decline any with that one awful hairdressers name on the list of beauticians.

As you sat on the edge of your bed and set a reminder for yourself to job hunt tomorrow afternoon, a notification interrupted your typing.

Instagram was alerting you that one certain Jacob Elordi was sending you a fucking message. He'd followed you a couple weeks ago, when you handed him your phone to show him a picture of your beloved childhood pet. He scrolled away from it and found your handle to promptly pull up on his very own Instagram, following you with a smile.

Your eyes widened and your thumb worked faster than your brain, clicking the popup before you could talk yourself out of it. Oh, shit now he was going to know you opened his fucking stupid ass message. You really wished you hadn't met this boy. He wasn't even here and he was torturing your every thought.

"You were NOT there after lunch as promised. Call me? xx"

Before your eyes displayed a row of numbers that if pressed would call Jacob Elordi's cell phone. You tried really hard to talk yourself out of it. But being away from him for the last ten hours had really done a number on your heart. It missed him more than your brain was afraid to admit. Your thumb clicked the numbers. Your phone started to ring.

After one buzz he answered.

"I got off set to hear you'd quit and left me to bear that horrid hairdresser without you? Was the coffee really that bad?" Jacob's voice crackled through the line, soft and saccharine. You chuckled morosely at his coffee joke before responding.

"No pleasant greeting. What if it wasn't me calling? What if it was some crazy fan girl?" You dared to venture.

"Are you saying you're not a fan of mine?"

You wanted to assure him that you were probably his biggest, but sighed in place of a response, struggling to choose your words.

"What happened? That hairdresser should be fired. You shouldn't've left." Jacob spoke, as you watched the traffic out your window and relished the sound of his voice in your ear.

"It..." You couldn't help it. You couldn't hide it any longer. "It wasn't really her. I quit because of you, Jacob."

"Me? I- I'm sorry I thought we-" He sounded too worried, and you realized you'd spoken a little too cryptically.

"Not because you did anything wrong." You hurried to explain, interrupting his unnecessary apology. "It's me, not you."

"Is this a break up? I never even got to ask you on a proper date." He laughed a humorless laugh.

"That's the thing." You said. "I like you way more than I should've ever let myself. It's too unprofessional for me to work with you and have these feelings. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Everyone treats you like a piece of meat, I hate that I-"

"So... what I'm hearing..." Jacob's voice rose a bit as he interrupted you, catching your attention off guard. "Is that I can actually ask you on a proper date? And this doesn't have to be a break up at all."

"Oh! I- wait are you joking?" You blurted, shocked by the tone of his voice and the fact that it seemed like Jacob Elordi was asking you out.

"I like you too, dummy. I've been doing my damnedest to make that clear. You know I don't just follow every wardrobe artist on Instagram and bring camera men cafe treats. I used my free coffee on you! I'm so sorry it was no good though."

"It wasn't the worst coffee ever." You smiled, feeling a calm and hopeful buzz wash over you.

"Well, let me take you on a proper date, for a proper cup of coffee, and talk you back on set."

"I can date you, or be your makeup artist, but I will not allow myself to do both. I have a very strict moral compass as a working lady."

"I'll choose the first option then by a long shot." You could hear Jacob's smile in the tone of his voice. You let him ramble a little longer about the day he'd had and how bad he felt that you'd been moved to quit. He asked you to meet him at the cafe across from the set during lunch tomorrow, and you promised you would in fact show up without a doubt this time.

Fuck finding a new job tomorrow. You were going on an absolute dream date with Jacob. But you were most definitely ordering your own coffee.

#thanks nonny! this was really fun to write #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi

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libraincarnate · 1 year

Text

astrology notes: 12 🏰

quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences. with that being said, i'm still learning along the way & i may come back to edit this post to make corrections. above all this is just for fun. lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!

➷ capricorn/saturn doms: they absolutely won’t be an enabler. they’re big on competence and aren’t too fond of overdependent people. it’s lowkey repulsive to them when people won’t even bother trying, choose not to put in the work, or they always want/expect people to do things that they’re capable of doing for themselves. they value independence so they don’t just encourage others to be independent but they expect themselves to be independent and competent as well. otherwise they’ll put in the effort to learn. they hold themselves to the same standards they have for others.

➷ gemini in the 7th house, especially with inner planets or a stellium: for these natives, the person they end up marrying must be funny. might even be a deal breaker for them if their partner isn’t funny. they love to laugh, like to joke with they’re friends/loved ones, so they have to be able to laugh and joke with the person they’re going to spend the rest of their life with. may desire someone with a similar sense of humor. they bring an upbeat & lighthearted energy into their relationships and they need to be able to express themselves or feel comfortable enough to be themselves. communication is also of great importance in their relationships. they may want to text and talk to their favorite people all through out the day.

➷ saturn brings difficulties and challenges but there are also rewards. so if your saturn placement has only brought you trouble or hardship stay tuned to see the blessings in disguise, how/where your hard work pays off, how/where you’ll reap what you've sowed.

saturn in the 10th house - you may experience conflict with your bosses, those who are superior to you or have more authority than you. they may be condescending, a classist, a megalomaniac, or they held you back in some way. but you endure that mistreatment and later on you receive a promotion, you obtain a leadership position, maybe you take their spot. but in your new position you don’t treat your subordinates like your bosses or mentors have treated you. you’ve learned from that experience, you know what it’s like. you treat all your employees or the people working under you with the same respect, you consider and value their ideas, you give them opportunities or bonuses when deserved, they feel like you’re a good leader, they learn from you and may consider you the best boss they’ve ever had. as a result, this can contribute to a good reputation and can benefit your career.

saturn in the 2nd house - you may experience issues with your self-esteem. could be the type to look in the mirror and pick yourself apart. may be hard on yourself or too critical. perhaps you’ve been picked on or you’ve been belittled by others. but then you may start a career in the fashion/beauty industry, perhaps you become a model. because you worked through the issues that saturn presented you with regarding your confidence or your beauty, you’re now impervious to the critics, their words don’t get to you because you know yourself, you know what you’ve gone through to become a stronger person. the people who teased you now look at you with envy or admiration. you’re confident in front of casting directors, you have tough skin, you don’t compare yourself to other models, your confidence oozes through your magazine covers, you have a strong presence on the runway. and perhaps there’s a sense of professionalism about you that makes clients or designers come back for more, time after time, leading to longevity or an impressive resume or portfolio.

saturn in the 4th house - you may have been your own parent, probably felt like you had to raise yourself and your siblings. may have felt more like a parent to your parents than they were to you. you couldn’t depend on your family or mom so you we’re only able to depend on yourself. you had to be an adult when you were just a kid. your experiences here can make you feel reluctant to have children of your own. but if you do have end up having kids, you could make a great parent. yes saturn can be strict, and you may be a parent that emphasizes rules, respect, hard work, etc. but you’ll also give them the childhood experience you didn’t get to have. your upbringing/family life was hard so you want it to be better and smoother for them. they don’t have to feel the burdens of life and responsibilities so early and so harshly, they have someone they can depend on, a parent that’s always there for them. raising them to be awesome human beings with good morals, passing on the wisdom & life lessons you’ve gained, giving them the affection you didn’t receive, making home feel like a safe environment. you’re patient with them. the difficult times at home gave you experiences and lessons that make parenthood easier to handle. and that child or your children may help you heal you from those emotional wounds. you might look back on those tough times and be proud of yourself when you see the family you came from and the family you’ve created.

the themes of saturn may not always be fun but they’re necessary. and depending on the way saturn plays out in your chart, it may present you with things that you’ll later look back on and be grateful for.

➷ leo in the 12th house: may struggle with the idea of fame or popularity, shying away from the spotlight but lowkey wanting it, struggling with self-expression, you stand out but want to hide, reminds me of this emoji 🎭, you appear happy & sunny on the outside but you may feel dead inside, could express your pain through music, acting, or art. you're aware of the activity in your subconscious. you're introspective, and more humble, not boastful or flashy. could be proud of how you’ve faced adversity or overcame the suffering you've experienced, you could be like a light to others who have faced similar experiences, potentially leading them out of their suffering. seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, you may have the tendency to remain hopeful despite everything you’ve endured.

➷ virgos remind me of cats because they’re always cleaning/grooming themselves. they constantly check their nails making sure they’re free of dirt & looking nice, they smell good, their clothes fit well and look presentable, primping their hair, making sure their skin isn’t dry/ashy, checking for nose/eye boogers, etc. idk about you guys but they’re the type of person i’d sleep with, like thank you for not being dusty and respecting me & my body. you guys know that saying “common sense isn’t so common” ? well neither is proper basic hygiene or cleanliness so i don't blame them for their tendencies.

➷ mercury dominants: probably good at typing and they type fast. may enjoy typing and testing their typing speed, trying to beat their previous wpm. naturally good with their hands, sewing, cooking, building, doing hair, drawing, etc. random, but they're probably good at untangling things like necklaces.

➷ mars in the 6th house: once they get going, they work nonstop. they want to get everything done at once. the type to do things one after another with short breaks or none at all. they may take on more than they can handle and force themselves to complete all their tasks but that’s because they can be so driven and hardworking. the types to take their work home with them. this can be detrimental for their health but for employers this is someone you’d most likely want to hire.

➷ your lilith sign may show you where you have scars (including surgery scars), where you often get cuts/wounds/pain, or the body part you obsess over because you see flaws:

gemini - hands, arms, shoulders

pisces - feet

capricorn - knees, joints

leo - heart, back, hair

cancer - chest/breasts

aries - head, face, eyes

➷ chiron in aquarius: may have experienced troubling friendships, or losing a lot of friends. loyal to a fault, you put great effort into your friendships, maybe you were more considerate, more eager to be their friend, and you’re probably a good, genuine friend, but the love and energy you showed them wasn’t reciprocated or they suddenly turned on you.

➷ stewie from family guy has to have prominent capricorn & aquarius placements. he’s sarcastic, funny with a dry sense of humor, so damn smart, smarter than his peers, wise beyond his years, inventive, independent, ambitious, great with technology & he has so many cool devices & gadgets, he’s a baby but he’s mature, logical, and his personality makes him appear older than he looks. hmm, probably some scorpio or aries in his chart too because he’s also revengeful, holds grudges, strategic, driven, and can be violent. despite his possible aquarius placements, his main and constant friend has been the family dog brian who is mature and much older (56 in dog years) than stewie. he must have some stuff going on in his 4th house too, he basically hates his family & he's so mean to them, especially his mom 😂 maybe he has mars in his 4th house. he’s straightforward & tends to be condescending and harsh/rude. he also likes to be in control & he’s an initiator which may be due to the cardinal energy if he does any have capricorn and aries placements.

➷ gemini rising/mercury, sag rising/mercury: because you're so funny & sarcastic people may not take you or your words seriously because they always think you're joking. others can be shocked when you have to take it up a notch to show them you’re serious cause they don’t see that side of you often. your reaction is unexpected. but you also don't take life seriously either. with that being said, it’s rare to see these natives fuming especially with more reserved moon signs or those that like to have control over their emotions like capricorn, virgo, and scorpio moon.

➷ taurus in the 6th house: may be prone to procrastination and being messy. taurus is often described as lazy or not quick to act, so they might not be the types to put things back where they got it from or they clean up in a half-assed manner. and they’re stubborn so if they don’t want to do something or they want to do it later, it may be hard to dissuade them. i’ve also noticed they tend to have stable employment & this is partly due to their great work ethic and determination. they always have a job, if they’re unemployed it’s not for long, or they've worked at the same job for many years making it a huge part of their career and resume.

➷ pluto in the 7th house: may be possessive of their relationships. not just romantic relationships, but their relationships with those who are important or closest to them. best friend, family, etc. you’re their favorite person so they want to be your favorite person. if they have a best friend, they don't want that person to have other best friends, they want to be the closest person to them. i also think this stems from a place of control & fear. they don’t get close to a lot of people but they’ve opened up to a few selected people & shared some of their secrets with them, so they don’t want the people they’ve trusted to potentially share those things with others or to form stronger bonds with other people because they might leave them for someone else.

➷ 9th house ruler in the 5th house: sunday school teacher for children, arts/fashion school, may have played sports in college/university, a division 1 or 2 school maybe, a sports coach, possibly a hedonist, popular in school, interested in child development, learning could be something you enjoy, confident in your intelligence, creating and planning fun trips, proud of your academic achievements, lots of college parties & hookups, having a pleasurable and memorable college experience, the type to either put fun before their studies or to go to class late & still drunk from the night before but you excel anyways, inspired by different cultures, could be good at playing games like chess.

9th house ruler in the 8th house - religious trauma, a natural interest in the occult or esoteric spiritual practices, may study finance or business, well versed in psychology, may be a therapist, mortuary school, challenging the law, unpleasant or negative experiences with spirits, someone who possesses profound knowledge, people may ask you, “how do you know that stuff?” may teach others about sex & the reproductive systems like sexual education, sharing your knowledge about astrology.

9th house ruler in the 11th house - science over spirituality, studying politics, could like traveling or going on vacation with your friends, an atheist, could be the wisest one or religious one in your friend group, the friend people go to for advice, philanthropic/generous, might’ve gone to trade school, took online/virtual classes, received alternative education other than the traditional college/university, part of a sorority/fraternity, interested in astronomy, big dreams, wanting to make an impact in the world, possessing knowledge & ideas that could change the world in some way.

➷ empty 2nd house: when it comes to your personal belongings, most of the things you have may have been given to you or someone purchased them for you, you can be low-maintenance, not really having any personal income, but you may have money from other sources like an inheritance or a benefactor, or you rely on your family or government assistant for your financial needs, others might pay your bills, you may be indifferent to shopping, might not cook often, possibly having a simple wardrobe, nothing too fancy, not materialistic, could be indifferent towards money, you’re not impressed by it.

if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #astrology notes #astro notes #libraincarnate

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inrecoveryhehe · 2 years

Text

take care of your cuts step by step♡

identify their depth

epidermis: very thin, like a line. didn't bleed or bled a little immediately after making it. gets bloody red, then blood droplets start forming inside it. overall looks like your usual, average accidental cut.

dermis: can be thin or wide. you can see a white layer inside them, and then they start bleeding. slowly start to get filled with blood, and then it starts pouring (takes a couple seconds).

hipodermis: wide. you can either see fat, muscle or bone. if you see a white layer surrounded by fat, that's fascia, not dermis. fat may look like beans. starts bleeding after a couple seconds like dermis.

take proper care according to depth

epidermis: softly wipe with a towel and cover with a bandage of choice (bandaids recommended for only one cut, gauzes recommended for multiple cuts in one spot). if you have anything to avoid infection, like an antibiotic that you can apply to it, pour a little in the towel and repeat the first step. do not use alcohol as a disinfectant.

dermis: grab a towel and wrap it around the damaged area. press hard (if it hurts too much, apply less pressure) against the wound for around 5-10 minutes, depending on how wide the wound is. apply disinfectant carefully with the same towel (not the bloody part), avoid putting it inside the cut. use bandage of choice (gauzes and clean cloth recommended). seek medical attendance if deemed necessary.

hipodermis: grab a towel and wrap it around the damaged area. press hard (if it hurts too much, apply less pressure) against the wound for around 8-10 minutes. cover the wound with bandage of choice (clean cloth/regular bandages recommended). seek medical attendance, cuts of this depth cannot be taken care of without a professional. do not try to disinfect it at home, wait for a doctor's opinion.

meet psychological needs

you will be alright, i assure you.

please talk to someone, a close friend or beloved family member, a partner, a teacher, etc. vent to them if you feel safe doing so, take your time.

write it down in a notebook, or the notes app. read it as if it was someone else's vent. try to imagine how you would respond to make them feel better.

this isn't over. you can keep going, i believe in you and i'm here for you if you want to talk.

listen to your favorite songs, cuddle with a pet, take a nap, doodle, have a snack, etc.

don't worry, you got this!

this can be scary for you and i get it, but i promise that you will heal from this, okay?

if you're panicking, take very deep breaths.

cry if you need to.

hug a plushie.

pour cold water in your hands.

drink water and have some food if you haven't had it in a while.

identify the issue once you feel ready emotionally.

deal with the problem by either solving it (don't be scared to ask for help!) or learning to cope with it.

take your time to heal.

healing isn't linear.

ilysm.

some time after cutting...

epidermis: after a day, you can remove the bandage. you don't need to cover it again, but if it's more comfortable for you then go ahead.

dermis: if it bleeds through, change the bandage. if it doesn't bleed through, change the bandage after a day. repeat until it gets better. avoid physical activity that hurts the damaged area.

hipodermis: time for the ER, baby! you will probably get stitches. do not, by any chance, attempt to remove them. follow medical advice given to you.

signs of infection

pus or cloudy fluid is draining from the wound.

a pimple or yellow crust has formed on the wound.

soft scab, the scab has increased in size.

increasing redness occurs around the wound.

a red streak is spreading from the wound toward the heart.

more pain, the wound has become very tender.

pain or swelling is increasing 48 hours after the wound occurred.

swollen node. the lymph node draining that area of skin may become large and tender.

a fever occurs.

the wound hasn't healed within 10 days after the injury.

if any of the above signs appear, seek medical help as soon as possible.

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yandere-romanticaa · 10 months

Note

As a request, may I ask please for a reader running away from the Fatui debt collector and ending up by getting caught by Childe ?

The strong regard in which the Fatui held their contracts in could almost rival the nation of Liyue itself. By signing your name on the paper you signed off your entire life away, perhaps even your very soul if the situation or person called for it. The Fatui were rolling in mora and their Harbingers were some of the richest people to ever grace Teyvat. Their bankers know what they are doing, no penny is ever left unchecked and all of the clients pay what they are owed, no matter the cost.

You were one of those unfortunate clients.

On paper, their professionalism was okay, maybe even great if you're delusional enough. But everything came at a cost and you realized that the Fatui were only ever interested in keeping their side of the contract intact.

After mysteriously being laid off your job and losing every earthly possession you ever owned, you were left with no options other than to turn to the Northernland Bank. Despite its somewhat sketchy reputation there was also a decent amount of individuals who were quite pleased with the banks services, which is exactly why you felt all the more urged to go there. Everything was going smoothly for the first few months. You managed to pay rent and get some other basic necessities in order such as food and clothes but you were still far from the safe zone. You never managed to pay your debts on time which made the clerk at the bank frustrated with you.

"We can be kind to you only for so long." she'd say.

"Don't make the same mistake again."

You promised her that you wouldn't and you intended to keep that promise.

Unfortunately, life almost never plays out the way we want it to.

After weeks of endless job hunts, no one wanted to take you. It made no sense whatsoever! You had no criminal record, were always diligent on your previous job and had no enemies. Whenever you'd have an interview the people behind the counter would always be quick to shush you and tell you that they could not take you in. The last place you applied for, a small flower shop, was so quick to turn you down that it should be considered the world record. The moment you said your name out loud it was as if a switch was pressed and the owner switched gears entirely. Her demeanor went from calm and sweet to anxious and downright terrified as her entire body started shaking. She was beyond forceful as she shoved you out the door and told, no, begged you to not come back, ever.

In those brief moments you shared with the woman she became fear personified. You never understood why but right now that didn't matter.

Not when Fatui agents were pursuing you in the darkness of the night.

They were like the harrowing winter wind, sharp and swift. They barged into your home and demanded you pay what you owed unless you wished for more serious consequences to take place. The hooded agent pressed his large blade against your neck and his fire red eyes tore into you, daring you to make a move.

He was not expecting you to actually do something, let alone kick him in the shin.

A cryo mage and a hydro skirmisher were hot on your tail but you managed to quickly outrun them.

Panting, you hid behind a large pile of wooden crates near the harbor. There was little to no light aside from the stars, providing you ample cover against your assailants. This wasn't unfortunately only an advantage for you alone as they too could make use of this darkness. Not only were you outnumbered but also found to be completely and utterly defenseless. With little to no combat training and no vision to speak of, this endless chase became more and more unbearable. Options were also limited - keep hiding and make a run for it outside of the city but risk getting chased all over the content or come out of hiding and face the music.

Neither option was good. Death was all but guaranteed. The Fatui did not understand the concept of mercy.

That was a sentiment that the 11th Harbinger knew all to well.

He watched you from a window, ocean blue eyes tailing after every single move of yours. His chin rested on his hand while the other toyed with a white glaze lilly that grew close next to him, the soft petals providing him a much needed source of silly entertainment. In his eyes you were this glaze lilly - gentle, beautiful. Easy to break. It took him no effort whatsoever to tear your life to shreds and keep you docile. Tartaglia was a little bitter how you did not remember him back when you were younger, which might be the reason as to why he is being so harsh right now. He always liked to play rough and the sight of you shaking made his blood rush with pure and utter glee. Everything was going according to plan and he could not have been more satisfied. A wicked smirk danced on his lips as he ripped the glaze lilly from the pot, its green stem now firmly in his hands. A wave of determination came over the young man as he let out a quiet laugh to himself.

As fun as this was, he was done. No more games, he was going to have you.

It was time to step into the heart of the action.

Like an acrobat, Childe leaped out of the window and landed gracefully on both his feet, the bow on his back firmly set in place. His fingers twitched in anticipation as he creeped up closer and closer towards you. He was so quiet that not even a mouse could hear him.

It really wasn't your fault for screaming so hard, he thought to himself. Anyone would have gotten scared if someone just came up to them like that. As a matter of fact, he even found it kind of cute!

The shrill screams naturally caught the attention of the people he told to hunt you down and in a flash they stood before the two of you, panting but ready for action. The measley subordinates were, unsurprisingly, startled to see a Harbinger out in the open like this, prompting them to immediately lower their heads and bow deeply.

You were too caught up in your own paranoia to hear Childe mumble a quiet "You are dismissed." command to them. You trembled, fat tears caking your face as the ginger turned to face you, a small smile on his lips. He scared you enough for now, hasn't he? Reaching out towards you he held your quivering body, your face pressed deeply against his chest as you wept loudly. The grey fabric of his clothing soon turned a much darker shade due to the heavy tears but you could not care less.

Tired, you were so tired.

Despite having no clue to the identity of the man who held you so gently, there was absolutely no chance you were letting him go. You made your decision right there and then - snaking your arms around his thin waist you stayed like that as you let out everything out of your system, the pain, the fear and every other dark emotion which clouded your heart, all the while having no clue that your savior was the one who brought out all of this misery to you.

He could be a sadistic bastard, Childe knew this. He went too far in tormenting you and was most surely going to make everything up to you.

Right now though all he could do was sit on the ground and cradle you in his arms as his heart wept alongside yours, but with much different reasons than yours. He was a walking paradox, both the tormentor and the savior. All in due time though, you would grow to love it.

He would make sure of it.

🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @yumekos-gamble, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @saturnalya, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss

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bettyfrommars · 10 months

Note

Okay but what about something smutty about Eddie being your sleep paralysis demon?? He’s coming by to visit and terrorize you, but once he sees his delicious you are, wants to have a different kind of fun?

18+ONLY, sleep paralysis, nightmares, satire, no smut (ILY I'm sorry) just a wee blurb

Nightmare Factory Masterlist

Eddie is your sleep paralysis demon, but he's really bad at it.

He's new to the gig; he was sent there on assignment from The Nightmare Factory. It's just another job to pay the bills, one that he doesn't take too seriously. On the first day, he has this heart-in-his-throat moment when he sees you, and then he immediately feels guilty that he's slinking around in your room at night while you sleep. Life for a professional Sleep Paralysis Demon (SPD certified) is, indeed, a lonely one. It's a lot of lurking and longing, and he's starting to realize that he might not be cut out for it.

But then, one night, he's sitting on the side of your bed, telling you about his day in soft whispers that he thought you would never hear, when your eyes fly open.

He stands up to apologize, but all you see is a faceless, shadow figure standing at the end of the bed, watching you.

You try to scream, but no sound comes out. You try to wake up, but it feels like you already are, and panic sets in.

Eddie takes a few steps toward you, moving his hands, trying to explain. "Listen I know this is weird but hear me out---I'm not here to hurt you. This is just a job, that's all it is, and if they didn't send me, they would've sent some other dude. Not to sound like a creep or anything but I like you and--"

But all you hear is this loud shrieking, like a banshee wail, as the thing shuffles closer. You try to move, but your limbs feel like they are stuck in concrete.

Eddie takes a few more steps, getting right up by your head to look down at you, willing you to understand him. "I'm not trying to freak you out, okay, I promise, but I've been working up the courage to say that I like coming here to hang out with you. I just wish we knew how to communicate because I think we'd have a lot in common."

The dark figure is screaming in your face, right above you, and inside your head you are begging for it to leave you alone.

Eddie hears a whimper come out of your throat as if you are trying to scream and he realizes maybe this approach isn't working, and so he backs up. "Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm going to wake you up now, okay? It's all good sweetheart, here we go, let me help you..."

You wake up choking on a frightened sob, and then you scramble to flick the bedside light on, gasping, on the verge of tears. You sit up in bed and pull the covers to your chin, eyes darting around the empty room, trembling.

Above you, Eddie floats on the ceiling, apologizing in a voice too low for any human ears to hear.

Later, back at the Nightmare Factory headquarters, he puts in his SPD resignation, citing emotional damage. A bummer in more ways than one, since those two months of SPD training were down the drain.

He goes to stand in front of the message board, to look at the job openings he could apply for. He can't help but wonder which one of the available nightmare positions would get him closer to you.

#requests #spd!Eddie #nightmare!Eddie #Eddie Munson #demon!Eddie #eddie munson blurb

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cjjferk · 1 month

Text

WW2 AU

PART 1

(+2scetches)

One September day, B. Wooster found out about Jeeves' disappearance from Aunt Dahlia's telegram.

Early summer of 1940. Bertram Wooster was completing his studies at an aviation school. At the same time his faithful valet, Jeeves, temporarily went to the service of the already mentioned relative at Brinkley Court and became the second jewel in the staff of servants besides the highly talented cook Anatole.

Due to the straitened financial situation of Uncle Tom, who complained more and more about the increasing taxes, the dearest aunt had to take forced measures and fire a few servants. She wanted to make a small sacrifice, and it might have been enough if one day her stingy husband had not cut the already small wages of the remaining servants. Many of them had applied for dismissal after that, and they were quite understandable.

This radical decision, although to a lesser extent, also affected Jeeves. Nevertheless, he continued to be a professional. He fulfilled his basic duties and often helped her, and her old friends get out of troubles.

Within a few months of Jeeves' work, they had become friends. Bertram almost felt like a third wheel in this idyll when he came to visit and boast of his achievements. Aunt Dahlia treasured her new valet and his unrivalled intelligence, and often jokingly promised in letters to her nephew that Jeeves would be returned safe and sound.

That was why she was seriously worried when Jeeves went missing. One clear day in early September, an elderly relative had let him go to London on his own business. In addition to this, it was Jeeves' duty to check on their good old Berkeley Mansions flat from time to time and keep it clean, so he planned to finish his business by evening and stay in the city overnight. He was supposed to return early the next morning. But that never happened. Not in two days. Not in three.

That night London was bombarded.

Something seemed to snap and collapse inside Bertie when he learnt that the search for Jeeves had been fruitless. Neither his relatives nor his club could shed any light on his mysterious disappearance.

The dark thoughts from which Bertram had fled during the day caught up with him at night. He would toss and turn on the hard bed, thinking of Jeeves's fate and replaying happy memories of their past, and in the daytime, tired and broken, he would give his duty to his country.

The whole situation seemed strange and unreal to him. The only thing that was found out for sure was that no one appeared in the apartment that miraculously survived the monstrous raids that day. It was dusty.

A couple of months had passed since the tragedy that divided Bertie's life into before and after. The war continued. He was learning to adjust to his new reality.

Sometimes he managed to carve out some free time and pop into London for a bit. The city where he had lived more than a third of his life was in ruins. The familiar places where he used to meet his friends and have a good time were empty.

Your humble servant avoided going into that very flat. There were too many vivid memories of that place, which painfully and mercilessly squeezed Bertram Wooster's poor skull. Indeed, the most precious person in his life had been living at his side all that time.

But still, as the sole and responsible owner of his property, he had to overpower himself. He had to go in and make sure that everything was all right. And one such day Bertie found himself there, in their former cozy home.

He walked in and looked around the living room: a layer of dust covering almost everything, furniture wrapped in covers, and only a few of his own things that he had left or forgotten here. The piano was covered with a cloth. Unbearably quiet and lifeless. There was nobody else to keep order here, nobody else's hand to create the home comfort. Sorrowful feelings pressed upon his chest.

He looked all over the flat. Almost all of it. There was only one room left to check.

After a moment's hesitation, Bertram pulled himself together and went into Jeeves's room. He had only glimpsed it from inside before. It was modest and not as spacious as his bedroom. Wooster sat down on the perfectly made bed, looking at what little was left of his dear friend, guide, and philosopher. His eyes rested on the various books dusting the shelves and cupboards.

He recognized one of them. It was the volume of Spinoza's writings he had given Jeeves for his birthday. No doubt Jeeves had read it all. As the rest of the books in the room. Bertie remembered his politely grateful smile and how he had clearly decided that this fellow deserved a whole library of those Spinozas.

He got out of bed. The code of the Woosters did not allow him to touch other people's things (even if those things belonged to a man who might never come back into his life), but something outweighed the young master's unwavering principles that day.

He didn't even notice how he left the flat with the book in his hands.

Of course, this sort of talisman invariably occupied a place in his suitcase. Though he had endeavored to handle the book with care, it had become tattered with the passage of time. Bertram often held it in his hands, flicked through the pages, ran his eyes over the neat pencil notes of its former owner. It calmed him a little in the most difficult moments of his pilot practice. He didn't understand anything about philosophy, but he treasured this book too damn much.

When they reunited, they were about a year away from the end of the war. The house with their previous flat was in a state of emergency damaged by the recent bombing raids, so Jeeves looked for a new flat for them while his employer was still undergoing treatment.

It happened some time later after their move-in. Jeeves was doing his household chores while the young master followed him around and chattered about anything that came into his head. It would have annoyed anyone, but not Jeeves.

You see, he had been abroad for a long time. However, he was not on holiday. Against his will, he was assigned important tasks and missions which he had to fulfil if he did not want to lose his freedom, his successful career, his reputation, his family, and friends. The special promise of making one particular person's life unbearable also left him no choice.

Every day, Jeeves felt like he was sitting on a powder keg: at any moment, a surprise inspection could come through the doors of his headquarters. A highly undesirable event for a man who kept fake documents, weapons, and encrypted data transmission devices in his flat. But all possible escape routes had been carefully worked out and memorized: Jeeves was always prudent. Otherwise, he had to have time to take a special pill before he found himself tied to a chair in a small interrogation room.

Keeping his charm and politeness, he was effective in getting the right information from the right people. His knowledge of psychology and accumulated experience of working with people helped him in this.

Jeeves' missions were rarely close to failure. His life depended on it.

The slightest mistake could have been fatal to him. Of course, he had learned much about the country during his training to pass for a typical Frenchman. His French had been practically flawless even before, which only made his life easier. But still somewhere in the back of his mind was the fear that he would be exposed for the smallest inaccuracy.

Jeeves lived under a false identity with a fake life story. He changed outwardly and inwardly. His gait, the way he spoke, his body language, his facial expressions. He had complete control over his body. Especially his gaze, which could tell a lot about his thoughts. It was exhausting.

After a long time of living in this way, he began to have trouble sleeping: he slept very little and sensitively or could not fall asleep at all.

He rarely had any dreams during the restless hours when he was able to fall asleep. Sometimes he had nightmares. But they were not about him. They were about Mr Wooster. Same scenario: church, flowers, closed coffin. Then it would slowly open from the inside. And Jeeves would wake up in a cold sweat.

On sleepless nights, he was also tormented by thoughts of his former employer. Where was he now? Was he all right? Was he even alive? How did he feel about his disappearance? Would he want to see him again...?

Jeeves felt his mind, which he relied on in the most critical situations, begin to fail.

Meeting his employer again and doing the household chores for him, he felt himself slowly getting his head in order. He was enjoying the much-anticipated company of Mr Wooster. It soothed him and made him feel at home.

Jeeves opened the closet to put the ironed clothes in it. The young master standing next to him had been lost in the chatter and missed the moment when he should have pulled him back. In the next moment Jeeves had pulled the ruined book out of the wardrobe the same way as he pulled out foreign clothes. By the title of the book, he thought at first that his master was interested in serious literature. But on closer look and leafing through the book, he realized that it was his own.

Bertie watched it silently with his eye wide open. He couldn't just get rid of it, but at the same time he was ashamed to return a book in such a terrible condition to its owner. He planned to buy the exact same one soon, but until then, this volume of essays would be safely hidden away. But here his innocent secret was revealed. Jeeves looked at him with a silent question in his eyes.

He tried to justify himself, but this particular Wooster was a bad liar. Especially when the pent-up feelings were starting to overwhelm him. Jeeves often let his employer fool him about little things, but they both knew very well that it was actually impossible to do this. A couple of precise laconic remarks and B. Wooster found himself disarmed. He took a breath of air and began to speak.

Jeeves listened patiently to his poor master with a mask of calmness pulled over his face and dared not interrupt.

He was sorry. He was deeply sorry for the pain he had caused Mr Wooster and his dear people by his forced departure. However, Jeeves spoke little and reluctantly about what he had been doing in recent years and did not tell anyone about the very reasons for his disappearance. This information could have caused a lot of trouble.

And Bertram realized it. His Jeeves could not just disappear for no reason, he was sure of it. But sometimes, in the deep sleepless night, a wild guess would cross his weary mind. What if Jeeves had run away, had simply abandoned him? Of course, Bertie had scolded himself for such thoughts in the mornings then. And today when Jeeves prepares breakfast for him, reminds him to take his medicine, and helps him to dress, that idea seems to him on the verge of sanity. But then he was quite capable of finding irrefutable evidence in all sorts of little things. At that time, he did not know what to think: the search for the injured had ended, Jeeves remained on the list of missing persons.

Bertram stood before him and could find no more words. But words were no longer needed. Jeeves looked at him with bright, penetrating eyes and the silence that settled in the room was filled with peace. Jeeves was truly touched. He felt a huge boulder fall from his soul.

It seemed now, as his employer lowered his head dejectedly and hid his wet eyes from him, they had the perfect moment to dot the «i».

It's been a long day.

Of course, this book stayed in their new flat and became a symbol of something important for them. Bertram, Jeeves' poor love, had indeed taken desperate measures then.

However, Jeeves pointed out that such measures would no longer be necessary.

For now, he would be there for him. He came back.

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mitsuyeaah · 1 year

Text

work my magic.

— shuji hanma x gn! reader

cw: fluff (i think), sexual tension??

a/n: his hands inspired me to write this oops

“what are you up to, doll?” shuji plopped beside you on the couch. you were mindlessly stretching your upper body here and there, a dull pain making its way throughout your back and shoulders from sitting too long all afternoon. “nothing much… my shoulders and back feel so stiff from all that sitting.” you groaned, turning your body to your boyfriend and slung an arm over his stomach.

an office job was fine for the most part but you didn’t fancy how you sat on your chair and in front of a computer for hours on end, causing your muscles to stiffen up.

shuji let out a soft sigh and ‘tsked’, “i keep telling you to take 5 minute breaks and walk around the office for a bit. your back is always hurting.” he looked down at you with his golden eyes, a hint of concern washing over his face.

before you could say anything, your boyfriend sat up and turned to face you, “okay, lie on your stomach.” he instructed, earning a curious expression from you. you lifted a brow at his strange request, “why?”

he sighed playfully rolled his eyes, “just trust me.” there was a slight glint of enthusiasm in his eyes. despite being suspicious, nonetheless, you got on your stomach as shuji stood up from the couch to give you some space to settle down.

you placed a pillow underneath your chest, hugging it as you waited for him to do whatever he wanted to do.

“i’ve been watching these massaging youtube videos because you’re always complaining about your sore body.” he spoke from behind you, sitting back down on the couch to straddle your legs.

your chest warmed at the thought of shuji going out of his way to learn how to properly massage because of your sore muscles, “you did it for me?” you piped up, head slightly craning back to look at him.

“no, i did it for me.” he replied flatly, earning a slight chuckle from you. “i’m kidding. now, let me work my magic. it’s not as good as professionals but i’ll try my best.” shuji leaned forward, placing his palms on your upper back.

“its okay, as long as it’s your hands, i know it’s going to be good.” you mumbled against the pillow, closing your eyes at his hands working through your back.

that sentence shouldn’t have affected shuji more than it did.

shuji mainly focused on your upper back and shoulders, kneading through the tight muscles there, earning a loud groan from you, “that feels so good.” his hands were big enough to cover much of the areas he needed to focus on and it worked wonders.

the way he used shorter, circular strokes with the right amount of pressure had your eyes almost rolling back, you could also feel your muscles loosening under his touch. his hands felt so good that you just had to let out a sound.

shuji slightly stiffened at the sound you made but continued working on your back, brushing off the weird feeling he was getting. he swallowed thickly, there was no way he was about to be turned on from this.

“ah, right there! it feels good there.” you let out a moan as his hands curled around your shoulders, pressing on them while placing some of his weight down on you. “right here?” shuji whispered, placing his hands on where your shoulders met your neck.

“mhm, ah, that’s it, shuji.” you moaned in content as he applied pressure on that certain spot. his throat bobbed at the sounds that came out of you, ears reddening at your praise. this was supposed to be nothing but an innocent massage but why is he getting worked up?

he continued massaging your taut muscles as you let out sighs of content and occasional praises here and there at how amazing his hands felt. shuji’s mind raced, different kinds of thoughts clouded his mind.

fuck, he was turned on.

“you know… these hands can make you feel good somewhere else.” he broke the silence, his voice dropping down an octave lower as his hands slowly made it’s way down.

if you weren’t pinned down on your stomach right now, you would’ve smacked him already, playfully, of course.

#hanma shuji #hanma imagines #hanma fluff #hanma x y/n #hanma x you #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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acewritesfics · 3 months

Text

Crossroads Deal | Dean Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Hunter Fem!Reader

Request: No. From my Wattpad account.

Synopsis: Dean reminisces about the woman he loved and lost.

Warnings: Death, demons, crossroads deal, burning a body. Pure angst. I love angst. Italics are flashbacks. E/C - eye colour.

Word Count: 2,850

Main Masterlist

As Dean looks at the body lying a few feet away from him covered in a hotel bedsheet that is stained in her blood, he thinks back to the day he met Y/N, the person who changed everything for him.

"Who are you?" Y/N growls at the two intruders while pointing her gun at them with the safety off and her finger ready to press the trigger if necessary.

The taller one responds, hands up in surrender and a hint of fear in his eyes, "Bobby called us and told us that you need some help."

"That doesn't answer my question!" She growls once more, this time visibly more agitated than before. "Who are you?"

"I'm Sam. This is my brother Dean. " The tall one speaks again, introducing them, while the shorter one remains silent.

"Winchester?" She asks, lowering her gun slightly and scanning each of the men while keeping her eyes narrowed and her guard up. The best hunters were always on high alert and didn't trust anyone unless they had proven to be trustworthy. It was a risky move if you weren't cautious of everyone you came across.

"Yeah," Dean says, dropping his arms as she appears to relax a little.

"Bobby sent you?" she asks making sure,

Both of the men nod their heads.

"Would you please lower that completely? I don't feel like being shot by some girl today," Dean sneers, annoyed.

Lowering her gun, she puts the safety back on and places it back on the table, glaring at him. She resumes what she had been doing before she was rudely interrupted by them while showing and explaining to them all the evidence and theories she's already come up with..

Dean looked and listened to her attentively. As she recounted everything and displayed all the evidence she had gathered, he observed her rigidity in posture, her icy tone of voice, and lack of eye contact. Although he understood that she didn't know them and that he never expected her to welcome them with open arms, this seemed different. Her being standoffish seemed to go a bit farther than workplace professionalism.

It didn't help that this case seems to be a particularly difficult one, with a werewolf and a vampire collaborating to create some kind of hybrid. Being the seasoned hunters that they are, Y/N and the Winchesters believed they had seen everything before this case. Vampires and werewolves were known enemies in every lore book ever written. It didn't make sense to them that they would suddenly start working together.

Of course, there was a lot of arguing between her and the oldest Winchester, someone being used as bait, and their scheme going sideways, which was nothing new for the Winchester brothers. The three hunters barely made it out alive after suffering various injuries.

Y/N was grateful for the help Bobby and the Winchester's provided no matter how hurt she got, knowing that if she continued to pursue the case alone, she'd be in hell much sooner than intended. Crossroads would be overjoyed by that.

After they returned to the hotel room, Dean, who had the least injuries, bandaged himself before assisting Sam and Y/N. He was wrapping Y/N's lower arm when he notices she has a distant look in her eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks her, making sure the bandage wasn't too tight or loose.

"Just contemplating the fact that there are already enough monsters in the world and that we don't need any more. However, here we are, with monsters creating new monsters," She exhales. "How crazy is that?"

Dean finishes applying the bandage and remarks, "If this job has taught me anything, it's that there's far more out there than we realize."

"And that something will always surprise us even if we know to always prepare for the unexpected," she adds .

"Exactly," he says, agreeing with her. "Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own?"

"I gotten this far, haven't I?" She smiles at his sincere concern for her. Her ice-cold attitude toward them has somewhat thawed over the course of the five days they've worked together. She was able to say that she trusted the brothers to have her back, and she's proven to them that they could rely on her to have their backs as well.

"I now have your phone numbers, so if I need to, I'll contact you after I call Bobby."

He rolls his eyes, "So pleased to hear that I'm second on your list of people to call."

With a tiny smile lingering on her lips, she says, "Actually you're third."

He puts his hand over his heart while seeming to stare at her pretending to be offended. "You hurt me. Really, you'd call Sam before me?"

"He argues less," She chuckles.

"You wait till you're always around him," he says as he cleans up the leftover medical supplies. "But honestly, you'll call us if you need us, right?"

Y/N nods in agreement knowing that it's what he wants to hear. "It would be best if you never saw me again. I don't want you to become attached to me."

Dean first believed she was joking, but he was mistaken since exactly that is what happened. He became attached to her, falling in love with her hard and fast. Within a month of their initial encounter, they ran into one other twice more before agreeing to stick together. But it wasn't just Dean who got attached to the former solo hunter. Like his older brother, Sam had also fallen in love with her, but in a very different way. Y/N was the sister the younger Winchester never had. They bickered like siblings, got along like siblings, mocked one another, and stood up for one another exactly like brother and sister. When they discovered her big secret, both brothers struggled with it. Dean, of course, took it the hardest.

While working on the demon case they're currently working on, Bobby unintentionally revealed that her time was running out far too quickly for his liking.

In disbelief, Sam exited the room with Bobby, leaving Dean and Y/N to talk. Although Y/N's revelation had upset him, he was aware that Dean was hurting more. Sam had witnessed first hand how quickly Dean and Y/N had fallen in love with each other.

"Were you ever going to tell us?" Dean asks, leaning against the kitchen wall as she sits at Bobby's kitchen table. He's upset and angry. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

She nods despite knowing that nothing she says would help her. "Of course I was. I didn't know how."

To her, Sam was like a younger brother. Being an only child raised by a single mother, she never had siblings. She enjoys how it feels to have a younger brother.

But Dean is different. So, so, so very different. They constantly draw each other in. Neither of them felt the same way about anybody else. And despite her best efforts to stay away from him, she constantly found herself near him, whether they were sharing a drink at a bar, comforting each other after a nightmare, preparing for the next hunt, or helping him with Baby.

"'I made a deal with a demon and I have less than a year to live' would be a pretty good start," he glares at her, the anger and despair visible in his voice and green eyes. "What did you think will happen? That you'll be gone in 6 months and we'll… I'll forget about you? That's not going to happen!"

She repeats what she said when they first met, "I told you not to get attached."

"It's too late for that," he confesses. "I'm attached, Sweetheart."

It's silent for a few minutes as they both try to gather their thoughts while suppressing their tears and emotions.

"I'm going to get you out of this." Dean says as he breaks the heavy silence that had fallen over them. "We'll figure it out. It's what we do. If not, we'll figure out a way to pull you back out."

He walks up to the books that are scattered on the table and looks through them as though he's looking for information. But all he says is blurred lines and fuzzy pictures, his eyes unable to focus as the flood with tears.

Dean," she calls out in an effort to grab his attention as she stands up and approaches him. "Hey," she says as she removes the book he's clutching from his grasp and lays it back on the table. "There is no coming back from this, Dean. I am beyond redemption. The contract is unbreakable. They will not let me go, not for anyone."

"You're not even willing to try?" He asks, feeling defeated, though he is not about to give up as quickly as she is.

"All I want to do is make the most of the time I have left. Hunters do not have a lengthy life span. It's rare, and you know it," She informs him, a slight frown on her face.

"I'm not going to let you die," he says firmly, the defeat he was feeling replaced by determination.

"You have to," she replies regretfully. The day she met Dean Winchester was the day she knew she made a mistake making that deal.

Before anything further is spoken, he exits the room saying, "No, I don't."

After that, a lot of things changed between them. It had become tense, Dean and Y/N were distancing themselves from each other, they were both more short-tempered than usual and snapped at each other as if they were a couple going through a bad divorce . Before she met Dean, Y/N had accepted her fate, but the brothers and Bobby wouldn't listen to her, and they did everything in their power to free her from the terms of her crossroads deal. Dean went as far as summoning the demon at a crossroads.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Behind Dean, who is glaring at the demon in front of him, Y/N's angry voice can be heard.

Dean shouts back, "Unlike you, I'm trying to save your ass."

"Dean, listen to her; nothing can be done. Your little girlfriend will spend all of eternity in hell," The crossroads demon says taunting the hunter as she grins at him triumphantly.

"That's crap!," he yells, his gaze fixed on the demon as the crunch of gravel under Y/N's footsteps gets louder as she approaches them.

The demon quips, "Really, it's ironic. You finally meet the woman you would give it all up for and she-"

"Stop talking!" He growls at her, stopping whatever tirade she was about to deliver.

"You two could have had a beautiful future together. Marriage, normal jobs, a beautiful home with mini Winchesters roaming around the backyard oblivious to this life that you once lived," the demon continues to taunt the couple. "If only you had met her before she made the deal."

"Would you shut up?" Y/N yells at the demon this time. She turns to face Dean with a guilty look on her face as opposed to his eyes, which were full with rage and determination. "We have to leave."

"We're not leaving until she destroy's your contract," he frowns at her.

"Even if I really wanted to, I can't do it." The devil says, drawing both of their gazes to her. "Lucifer's orders."

"You can't save everyone, Dean, and that includes me." Y/N says, forcing him to look at her again.

"Why are you giving up so easily?"

"Believe me, I'm not. Bobby and I have both tried, as have you and Sam. I'm not getting out of this." She says as tears begin to form in her eyes.

"She's right," The demon agrees. "Just tell her you love her, and make the last four months of her life unforgettable. She'll need something to cling to while she's down there."

Before storming back to the impala, Dean glares first at Y/N, then at the demon, and then back at Y/N.

Y/N goes to chase after him, only to be stopped as the demon begins speaking again. "In your contract, I can make one adjustment. I used to be human, and I was in a situation extremely similar to yours right now. When the hounds come for you, once you're gone since there's no stopping them, I'll allow your soul five minutes to say your final goodbyes before personally dragging you back to hell myself."

Dean is scowling as she looks in his direction. He can hear everything that is being said.

"Why the sudden bleeding heart?" She inquires returning her attention to the demon.

"Like I said, I was once human," With that, the crossroads demon vanishes.

Y/N approaches Dean and, without wasting any time, pulls him into a kiss, reminding him of her love for him.

They didn't go back to Bobby's house that night, where Sam and Bobby were waiting for them. Instead, they traveled to a secluded meadow where she often went to spend some time alone when she was a teenager. They spent the night together in the impala talking, kissing, making love and eventually falling asleep.

After that evening, everything changed once again. The couple became inseparable once again. No one mentioned her crossroads deal and went about life as they normally did. Things seemed better, though their situation continued to weigh heavily on their minds and hearts. Dean promised to make the following four months the best of her life. And he did.

They got married while working on a case in Las Vegas, and during their downtime, he took her to the places she always wanted to see and always found ways to show and remind her how much he loves and appreciates her. He also never disclosed to her his ongoing efforts to find a way to save her.

He is brought back to reality as he feels fingers entwine with his own. She appears as a ghostly figure as he looks up from his shoes, her torso covered in blood, her complexion a ghastly shade of grey, and her usually vibrant eyes now a dull E/C. Her ghostly form still wears her wedding ring and the necklace he got her on her last birthday. He is tormented with guilt knowing he could have done more for her.

"It's going to be okay," she says, causing him to shake his head and avoid looking at her.

She lets go of his hand and cups his face. Standing on her tiptoes, she draws him into a kiss that spoke more than any words could in this moment. It spoke of the love they shared. An unexpected love. A love driven by passion, irreplaceable memories, and hope for the future. A once in a lifetime kind of love.

The kiss doesn't last long before Y/N breaks it, keeping their faces close and savoring their final moments together.

"It's time," she says softly. "You know what to do."

He wants to refuse, unable to let her go just yet. He couldn't drag her out of hell, and there was no angel who was willing to do it for him. Both demons and angels claim that this is her fate and that it was supposed to be this way.

Her cool lips make contact with his warm skin as she kisses his cheek, sending a chill through him. But that shiver paled in comparison to the chill he experienced as she began to fade away as he pulled the matchbook from his pocket and lit it.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," he hears her say before tossing the matchbook onto the body of the woman who abruptly and unexpectedly stole his heart.

As the body bursts into flames, he collapses to his knees in exhaustion and grief, his eyes never leaving her body as memories flash through her mind.

Y/N in the front passenger seat of the impala singing Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer at the top of her voice while he drives them back to Bobby's after a case.

Her smearing ice cream all over his face when he started a food fight with her in Bobby's kitchen.

Them showering together after a hunt that had them covered in blood, mud and god knows what else.

Laying together naked in bed, her asleep curled against him as he watches her, soaking her all in and making sure he doesn't forget a single detail about her.

Them stargazing.

Her playful bantering with Sam.

Her getting excited about going to a beach.

Her smile.

Her eyes.

Her laugh.

Her tears.

Her voice.

Her heart.

After what feels like hours, he stands up when he hears footsteps behind him. He doesn't have to look to know it's Sam and Bobby as the two men stand on either side of him, none of them speaking a word as they grieved for the woman that had touched their lives in different ways.

#supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fic #dean winchester

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blubushie · 3 months

Note

What are the things you Like and Dislike about Sniper? (Valve's Sniper and the fans' interpretation of Sniper)

I've got no issue with canon Sniper and love canon Sniper. I'm so sorry anon, you've woken the dog. Ignore me as I proceed to bark angrily for the next half-hour, because I have many issues with fanon Sniper.

But first I'll start with what I like about fanon Sniper. I love how everyone has their own little twist to him, even if most I don't agree with. I love how I can see how authors and artists have interacted with people and the scope of experiences they've heard about off how they write Sniper. I like that I can make judgements on people off how they treat his character (not in a "they make bad things happen to him" kinda way, but in a "how does this person handle Sniper's being adopted" kinda way). I like that I can use Sniper as a looking glass into the author/artist. I'm sure this applies to other characters too, but looking through Sniper just comes easier to me because I suppose I can put myself in his shoes? Iunno.

Now that that's over with, please allow your actual resident bushman and professional sniper to get on his soapbox, thank you.

List of shit I hate about fanon Sniper:

Fandom constantly referring to him as a Kiwi, completely ignoring his entire character arc in the comics where he realises that he is in fact Australian and that the two people who raised him all his life are in fact his "real" parents. The fandom needs to re-assess how they view adoptees/migrants and their relationship to their adopted culture, especially when they show no interest in assimilating into their birth culture and have no knowledge/experience of it. This is such an issue to me that I, someone who emigrated to Australia when I was two years old and grew up Australian despite being born in another country, will just outright block people who call Sniper a Kiwi cuz I already know how you're going to see and view me before we even get to talking.

I don't like how half the fandom twinkifies him. There I said it. On the other hand, I don't like the other half of the fandom often makes him very muscular. Do you not know what lean muscle looks like?

I don't like how the fandom calls him "stinky" or says he's unhygienic. None of the fandom understands how well animals can smell and how much of a successful hunt depends on animals not being able to smell you. You know what makes animals flee fastest? The smell of smoke and the smell of human body odour. If you're upwind of your target they are going to smell you and flee. Sniper, professional hunter for yonks, would not fucken stink considering it'd make him a completely useless hunter. He'd shower daily, wear scent cover (NOT deodorant--Sniper would not smell good, he just would not have a scent at all). Also none of the fandom understands how important hygiene is in the bush. Sniper is not walking around covered in dirt and such. He would be very clean and practise good hygiene because if you don't stay clean you end up smelly (ruining his chances of a successful hunt) and/or end up sick--especially with skin problems.

I don't like how the fandom has generally accepted out-of-characters traits as canon. For example, Sniper being "shy". Reclusive DOES NOT EQUAL SHY. He's a fucken assassin, does the fandom not understand how that works? Shy people do not get hired. No one is going to hire a hitman who's quaking in his boots because a client looked at him a little too long or applied a little too much social pressure. Sniper would be more than capable of blending into his surroundings when needed, such as a crowd, if it means making his hit or getting where he needs to go to make said hit. Sniper would be capable of lying to cover his arse on the spot and making it believable. Sniper would be able to manage being flirted with in public and play it off cooly--though privately is a different matter, so go wild with that all you like. There is a major difference between someone not caring for the company of other people and someone who gets shy or nervous around them. Professionals have standards, and Sniper would keep his shit together for the sake of getting his mark.

He wouldn't smoke cannabis. Whether it's because he just doesn't care for the high, whether it's because it doesn't do much for him, whether it's because THC in particular makes him anxious (you know that man is paranoid, all hitmen are)--the bottom line is that the smoke of cannabis clings to your clothes like nothing else, it takes forever to get the smell out, and yeah sure you can mask it with other smells but the issue is that Sniper, as a hunter, cannot be smelt by anything he's hunting. And you know what scent cover DOESN'T conceal? Cannabis. (Sauce: I have tried.) I could defo see him doing edibles though. But why do you think he's doing shrooms, ay? Because shrooms don't leave a smell.

None of the fandom knows how sniping actually works. Just. At all. I've seen horrendous fucking takes. He is not "feeling it." He is not cracking off a shot at 1200yd a second after taking aim. That's not how this works, that's not how any of this works. DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT ELEVATION OR WINDAGE IS?

Sniper would not be bothered by the cold. A camper has SO LITTLE INSULATION (I live in one!!) and the outback gets BELOW FREEZING AT NIGHT IN WINTER. Sniper would be well-adjusted to handling extreme temperatures at BOTH ENDS of the temperature range. He might be a little more susceptible to cold because he's experienced less of it, but he would not be shivering at fucking 15c/60f. It's also fucken cold during the day in winter because it's the outback and there's no trees to trap the heat in. Temperatures fluctuate wildly, and bushmen need to be highly adaptable or you die.

Not Sniper-specific but the fandom also doesn't understand jack shit about weapons. You clean them after you use them. That's not a clip, it's a MAGAZINE--yes there is a difference. YOU ARE NOT PUTTING A DIRTY SWORD INTO ITS SCABBARD. That's not how revolvers work. No, that either. That's a double-action, you don't have to cock the hammer to fire it. That's a single-action, you do need to cock the hammer to fire it. Bolt-action rifles don't have hammers. You don't rack a bolt, you cycle it, you rack a slide on a semiautomatic pistol or a pump-action shotgun. I'm hitting you with my old man bitching cane.

Continuing from the above point: people who draw Sniper with his finger on the trigger of his rifle/any firearm when he should not have finger on the trigger of a firearm. YOU ONLY PUT YOUR FINGER ON THE TRIGGER WHEN YOU ARE READY TO SHOOT. TRIGGER DISCIPLINE, PEOPLE. IT SAVES LIVES.

Most of the fandom has no idea what the fuck they're talking about or doing with this bloke (or his job, or lifestyle, or where he comes from) and it shows. There, I said it.

#blu whos #tf2 #sniper tf2 #ok i'm done being angry now. but god it wouldn't kill you fellas to research things. please #i'm not saying i'm the arbiter of sniper. but i am saying that as someone who has a very very very similar lifestyle and job?#it's really bloody frustrating #sniperposting

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azul-marie · 1 year

Text

leon. (desiderate)

fem. reader. canon-typical violence/injuries mentioned.

if only you’d been beside him a second sooner.

the surrounding ganados were resolute in killing the two of you, but so far you’d handled everything well. he took the front, you, the back. it was going fine enough, up until a creature welding a machete managed to land a clean slice across the side of his abdomen, easily cutting through the flesh. your partner’s pained sounds were a nightmare on the ears.

once that damned church bell finally rang upon safety could you take cover in an abandoned home to check whatever damage was done.

now another challenge began.

“please, just let me see how bad it is.” your pleas are no match for stubbornness. leon waves you off, pretending that he isn’t holding a bleeding wound. his beautiful jacket, a favorite of his, he had told you on the way to the village, stains his hand a bright scarlet. he lingers by a window to keep watch outside, his handsome face scrunched with discomfort.

“it’s fine. i’m fine. focus on yourself first.” his reply is curt, slightly winded. his broad chest heaves as he applies more pressure on his injury, his jaw setting tightly to avoid letting out a moan of pain. you watch helplessly, unused to the view of your calm, confident partner so hurt.

the two of you hadn’t been partners for long, but something akin to a friendship was undoubtedly there. his odd quips, the occasional joke that would usually cause eye rolling and groans were actually rather charming coming from a man of his reputation — you took them in stride, bouncing off of his personality as if you’d known each other all your lives.

but there is a certain coldness to leon. an inner frost, like a perpetual twist of the brows stuck in thought, or eyes heavy with a lack of heart. clear reminders of whatever he’s gone through before meeting you. perhaps it’s the innate good you sense from him that encourages the desire to know him, befriend him. a goodness that is such he’d prefer bleeding out if it meant saving you first.

you gather your courage. with cautious steps you approach his side, place a benign hand on his bicep that silently insists. at first, leon refuses to look your way. he's all too aware of those doe eyes you’re making at him — knows it’ll get him weak in the knees. the touch on his arm is already making it harder to breathe.

“leon…” —god, do you have to say his name so softly like that?— “i’m not hurt. i’m worried about you. just let me take a look so i can help ease the pain. please.”

his eyes flicker down to yours before he can stop himself. fuck. those pretty eyes, brows turned up with concern, flutter when they meet his. leon’s jaw goes slack, and he swallows so hard he’s certain he gulps aloud.

“okay…okay. i surrender.” he says, a hint of humor lacing in. “sorry to have made you beg.”

your unease melts into a beaming smile. “as long as it paid off.”

after finding the most stable looking chair in the house, leon peels off his beloved jacket on the one side he’s hurt, exposing the weeping cut caked with a mix of dried and fresh blood. he at least looks a little sheepish to have insisted he was fine, when he was, in fact, not very fine at all.

you cringe at the sight, deterring any ogling leon would've preferred to see instead. you carefully lift his skin-tight shirt to examine the cut further. the feel of your smooth fingers gliding across his bare skin sends a wave of gooseflesh over every inch of him. he reminds himself he’s a professional, not a schoolboy.

“i’m…i’m sorry, but, ew. aside from that, it’s actually not too deep. a good cleaning should help, since that blade was probably really unsanitary. then i’ll bandage you up. sounds good?”

leon is quiet. concerned, you glance upwards to check on him, only to find he’s already staring at you. something hot clenches at your chest. his eyes fall to your parted lips for a split second before realizing you’ve stopped talking.

“yeah.” he mindlessly agrees. it is incredibly obvious to the both of you that he hasn’t heard a word you said. you kindly choose to ignore it, mostly because it’s cute. and because he’s probably lost a bit of blood while he was being stubborn. not to mention he was nearly sawed in half by a literal creature of darkness, too. something like that would take a moment to process.

“i’ll clean you up, then bandage the cut. sounds good?” you repeat slowly, trying to also kindly ignore how his eyes switch between your eyes and lips. leon nods, then looks away in silent complacency to let you do what you need to. and to steady himself when your hands run down the expanse of his abdomen to check for any other injuries he may have sustained.

he wonders how you’ve managed to keep such soft, supple hands. how they press just the right amount of pressure, not too much or too little. the first aid spray, nor the herbs you mix and crush into a salve hardly sting when you massage them across his wound. all the while your eyes, those pretty eyes, gleam with pure concentration as you work to heal him. help him. without ulterior motives, without asking for anything in return.

guilt overtakes him. to have you mend him despite his being perfectly capable feels selfish. reminds him of naivety and red. longings of the past. you two were already in over your heads, and now this? having you coddle him? leon’s hardly deserving. hardly worth your effort. he wasn’t the priority at this point, even if he made the promise to get all three of you back home safe. there were risks, dangers, that either of you could succumb to, but he’d be damned before letting anything happen to you. as long as you stuck together, nothing would.

“you with me, ace?”

your whisper jolts him out of thought. leon appears struck, as if forgetting you’re sat beside him, pressing bandages along his abdomen. your perplexed expression wakes him from his inner rumination. makes him think his own face is twisted in the way it gets whenever he’s too far deep in his mind.

leon takes a beat to answer. “uh…yeah. all good. sorry about that.”

“no need to apologize. i know it’s a lot to take in. i’m just worried about that handsome face of yours.”

he freezes, his dark thoughts at once evaporating. “my—what?”

you turn slightly bashful. “oh, well, you know. if you keep making the same kind of face, it’ll get stuck that way. i just…well, it would be a shame if yours did. you’re really quite nice on the eyes, leon.”

he gapes at you, stunned silent by your boldness. and what more it could imply. these sorts of compliments are nothing he’s not used to, clearly, but coming from you? the first person to mean something to him in years?

leon feels his face going hot. shit. he clears his throat, shifts in his creaking seat. prays he isn’t blushing as badly as he thinks he is. you manage to catch his fleeting eyes for a second. he watches how your lush lips turn up with an amused smile so poorly hidden he almost thinks you wanted him to notice — and just like that, he’s properly flustered.

he isn’t allowed to collect himself. soon you’re patting off whatever excess salve remains on his skin and tugging his shirt back down over freshly set bandages, held together by even more prayers and a bit of medical tape. you’re up and on your feet before leon can even pierce together the concept of thanking you.

you head to the nearest window for a quick peek outside. “looks like the villagers are still in the church. it’s all clear for now, unless they decide to cut service short.” you muse. leon joins you, carefully readjusting his jacket and his cool.

“don’t jinx us.” he huffs. “last thing we need is another run in with trouble. we should start looking for ashley now that things are quiet.”

you agree. after one last weapons and supplies check, you lead the way towards the front door to brave whatever awaits the two of you ahead. before you finish twisting the doorknob, he pats an awkward hand on your shoulder.

leon says your name intently. “…i appreciate your help. very much.” he hesitates, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. you can still see a bloom of pink across his cheeks. “so…thanks. i owe you one.”

you pat his shoulder in return with a mellow smile. “of course, leon. it’s why i’m here. i am your favorite partner after all.” you joke, turning the moment he lets out a chuckle. you miss the way his eyes soften as he takes in the pretty view of you.

“true. but it’s not like you had much competition in the first place.”

“ha-ha. if you’re saying i win by default, then that’s just fine by—”

the moment the two of you step outside, an incoming call from hunnigan interrupts the lighthearted atmosphere. the sudden intrusion turns leon’s face somber once more, though he glances somewhat apologetically at you before answering.

no matter, you think. there’s plenty of time to spare for team-bonding.

#resident evil 4 imagines #re4 imagines #resident evil imagines #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy imagine #i want to flirt with leon sooo bad LOL #i just love seeing him shy 🤩 is it ooc? perhaps. do i care? of course not!!!#pining leon is the best #give this man some longing and i’m set #may or may not be the prequel to luis’s sweet talk 👀

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