#and we had to change but he was pretty lenient and i was usually one of the first kids out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

custardcrazy · 1 year

Note

i have a Ted logan request! it’s kinda inspired by the tutor piece you wrote but instead of being Ted’s tutor she’s Deacons tutor (or babysitter) instead and she comes over to the Logan household and Ted sees her there and is immediately head over heels for her and is constantly trying to find an excuse to go to whatever room she’s in and stay there much to the annoyance of Deacon and their father on occasion

sorry if i got to specific but you’re my fav Ted Logan writer and I’m happy his requests are open!!!

young as we are

summary: you're deacon logan's new babysitter. it doesn't seem like it'll be anything too special -- until you meet his cute older brother, that is. (gn!reader)

wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: okay so I might've changed around the prompt a teensy bit, but hopefully it still fits what you wanted. i'm no good at writing slow stuff so i got kinda impatient lmao (also. i'm?? your favorite?? you have no idea how genuinely happy that makes me. i'm smiling like an idiot. thank you so much.)

You checked the note you'd written the address down on to make sure you hadn't gotten the wrong house -- okay, all good -- before ringing the doorbell.

The house itself was pretty nice, just looking at the exterior. One of the perks of babysitting in a somewhat well-off area like this one was that you usually got paid decently for your troubles; and it wasn't nearly as bad as working retail, if the stories you'd heard from your friends were anything to go off of. And kids could be sweet, unlike food service customers.

It was only half a minute before the door was answered by a balding middle-aged man with a stern expression. Mr. Logan, you presumed; it was probably his voice you'd heard on the phone.

"You must be the babysitter," he stated directly, not giving you time to answer, "come in, then. I have some things I have to inform you of." He didn't wait, disappearing into the house and leaving the door ajar behind him. Feeling slightly awkward, you followed.

Once you entered the foyer, he began speaking again. "Deacon's probably in his room right now. He has to be in bed by nine P.M., and he knows that, but I don't doubt that without me being present he'll try to stay up." Indicating some bills on the counter, he continued, "there's some money for a pizza. The number to call is on the refrigerator. Dinner should be at six."

"Oh, and my … eldest son, Ted." If it was even possible, his tone became more snide. "He should be back in an hour or two. Don't let him bother you at all -- if he gets too annoying, just let me know when I get back later in the evening, and I'll deal with him."

You barely got out an "uh, okay, thanks" before Mr. Logan was yelling for Deacon.

He was maybe around twelve, you guessed. It was obvious that he was reluctant to come downstairs, but did so after a look from his father. You smiled at him, but he didn't return it; you didn't really mind. He was at that awkward age, after all. And if your instincts were correct, an overbearing father could inflict a number on any kid.

It wasn't that you weren't familiar with strict parents -- but it was near-impossible to get entirely used to them. Being in charge of their children meant that you had to be extra careful. You couldn't trust a young kid to not tell on you if you were a little lenient when it came to bedtimes, and you couldn't trust an older kid to not try and put the fact that you were more easy-going than their parents to the test.

Still, once Mr. Logan had left, you immediately relaxed.

And so did Deacon, by the looks of it, because suddenly his tense demeanor all but disappeared.

It was almost frightening how abruptly he turned his attention from his father's car pulling down the driveway to you.

"You ever watched RoboCop?"

He asked, with a certain bluntness only preteen boys were capable of.

"No, I haven't." Encouragingly, you smiled again. "What's that?"

"I have the tape," and already he was turning away, "gimmie a sec."

You had the sneaking suspicion that his father didn't have the same enthusiasm for science fiction movies.

And you were right; even during the movie he spoke up now and then to tell you stuff about the characters or the plot. About how "RoboCop could probably take down an entire army by himself". You thought it was kind of spooky how the titular protagonist was a reanimated guy forced to follow cyborg programming to uphold "justice" in an already-corrupt city, disregarding any humanity he once had.

… Or something like that. Deacon just found the guy "badass".

By the time that you'd nearly reached the ending of the movie, you were invested.

But not too invested to not look up when the front door opened, and thus you made eye contact with probably the prettiest guy you'd seen in a while.

He froze midway through his path to the stairs.

For a moment, both of you just looked at each other. He looked familiar.

Oh, yeah, you'd seen him at school a couple times. Passed by him in the hallways or in the cafeteria, maybe. You hadn't really noticed him before, but maybe that was because you hadn't gotten a good look at him. Like now.

And then Deacon took notice, coughing in an awfully non-subtle way into his fist, and you realized that maybe you shouldn't stare like a creep.

"Uh, you must be Ted, right?" You laughed semi-awkwardly. "Hi. I'm just gonna be babysitting Deacon until your dad gets home."

Hopefully you remembered his name correctly. From the way his father had said it, you had expected him to be some flavor of delinquent -- piercings, leather jacket, all that stuff that an uptight man like Mr. Logan would disprove of. A high school dropout who was bumming around in his dad's basement without a source of stable income.

That couldn't be further from the truth; the Ted you were seeing now was a slightly gangly, floppy-haired boy your age who was looking at you like he'd seen an angel.

It took him a moment, but he nodded vigorously in response to your question.

"Yes. Yeah. I'm -- that's me." Ted glanced away, finally breaking away your gaze. "Um. What's your name? I - … I don't think we've been introduced before, dude." Even from your position on the couch, you could pick out spots of rose pink on his cheeks. Even as he focused determinedly on the ground.

You couldn't help but be hopelessly endeared, so you gave him your name.

He gently repeated it once, as if trying out how it felt on his tongue. "Oh. Radical."

There was another brief moment, in which the movie still playing on the boxy television faded into the background. Then, his eyes were back on yours; they were a warm brown, you noticed.

Apparently, Deacon had enough of his older brother interrupting his sacred movie, because he spoke up again, breaking the silence. "Ted, don't you have stuff to do?"

You wanted to reprimand Deacon for his less-than-polite tone, but didn't have the chance, because Ted responded first.

"Oh." Seemingly snapping back to reality, he glanced away. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that."

Before you could tell him that you were going to order food later, he'd bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. You heard the far-off shutting of a door; and then a little later, muffled music that had a lot of distorted electric guitar and drums.

Deacon scoffed to himself, but settled further into the couch cushions.

You didn't see Ted again that night. He didn't even come downstairs to snatch a slice of pepperoni pizza, and just remained in his room. Maybe he didn't want to bother his little brother anymore, you thought, trying your hardest not to feel disappointed; even if you'd barely had any sort of conversation with him, there was something … Something very magnetic.

Mr. Logan was back at around eleven, and by that time you were seated by the television once more. Alone, because you'd miraculously managed to get Deacon to go to bed.

"I'm guessing everything went fine," remarked Mr. Logan, taking off his cap. You were beginning to get used to his clipped tone, and shut off the terrible sitcom you'd been killing time with.

"Yeah, I left the change for the food on the counter."

He pulled out his wallet, counting out crisp bills.

"Did Ted give you any trouble?"

Taking the money, you made sure it was the correct amount -- why'd you even bother, a man like Mr. Logan must've been specific about everything. "No, not at all. He barely said anything to me, actually."

He only gave you a noncommittal hum in response to that, not even looking in your direction as he headed for the counter; probably to make sure you weren't stealing any of the change. "Well, good night."

It wasn't a thank you -- not even close, but you'd take it. You'd been paid, after all. "Good night."

Ted's face upon seeing you still was fresh in your mind as you made your way home. And during the next several days that passed. It wasn't surprising, really. Nobody had ever looked at you like that; nobody had ever looked in awe of you on sight. At least, not anybody that had really caught your attention.

Eventually, Mr. Logan called again. Apparently he had another work thing to do -- not that you were listening closely when he mentioned it. Your heart jumped at another opportunity to see Ted; it was a little embarrassing, really. You weren't some boy-crazed lunatic, pining after a guy you barely knew.

Well, pining was a strong word. But you did pay extra attention when walking around at school, trying to catch a glimpse of him on your way to your classes.

(You didn't.)

This time, your pulse picked up when you walked up to the house. You even hesitated before you rang the doorbell again. But when you did, you heard some general commotion from within the house before Deacon answered the door, looking a little annoyed.

"Hi," he said, "Dad's getting ready or whatever."

He stepped aside to let you in. "I thought Ted was gonna answer the door. But he ran off as soon as he heard the doorbell." Sighing, he flopped down on the couch. "Lazy ass."

As if on cue, Mr. Logan entered the living room, fixing his hat. You idly wondered if he wore it to hide the fact that he basically lacked all of his hair except for on the sides and back.

"Deacon, watch your language."

"Sorry." Even though his voice was muffled into the cushions, he didn't sound apologetic in the slightest.

Mr. Logan turned his attention to you. "You don't need a refresher on anything, right." It sounded more like an order than a question, but you chose to look past it. At least he had offered to jog your memory if needed. The bare minimum was nice sometimes.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

He gave you a curt nod. It wasn't until you heard the garage door shutting behind his car that Deacon sat bolt upright, suddenly energized.

You looked at him expectantly.

"Let's watch Ghostbusters," he declared. "Dad thinks it's stupid."

And so, with little fanfare, you were basically doing the same thing as last time. But instead of dystopia, the setting was mildly less disturbing this time. And the main protagonists were human and likable. No offense to cyborg cops, but he didn't offer much in the way of personality -- so nobody could blame you.

You were sure you'd seen this movie before, but the memory was vague enough that most of the events were new to you. However, even though you were focused on watching the film, there was something else on the back of your mind. An underlying antsiness; and you had a good idea why.

Said antsiness was confirmed when, about half an hour into the movie, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It took all of your willpower not to look, but you knew who it was.

It was only until he breached your peripheral vision that you allowed yourself to smile.

"Hey, Ted."

Today, he was wearing all loose clothes -- a baggy tee shirt with BLACK SABBATH printed on it in slightly distorted purple font, and what looked like sleep shorts. All in all, it made him look very soft. Like he was planning to do nothing but lay in bed for the entire day. Even his hair was kind of mussed up, a curl or two (or three) sticking out from the rest.

He returned your smile tenfold with a near-blinding grin. "Hey."

Deacon, unlike you, didn't have to hide anything.

"Are you just gonna stand there and stare at the babysitter?"

Delightfully, Ted flushed, hand flying up to fiddle with his hair. "Uh. No. I was just wondering if I could -- " he hesitated, before continuing, "if I could watch the movie too, y'know. I think Ghostbusters is a totally exceptional example of cinema." You didn't catch the way Deacon narrowed his eyes at his older brother.

"Okay. Just don't interrupt too much."

" 'Course."

You were mildly startled when Ted sat down in the middle of you and Deacon -- you'd expected him to sit on the other side, but apparently that wasn't the case. The younger Logan let out an audible sigh and scooted further away.

True to his word, Ted didn't speak up for the majority of the movie. But you were aware of his presence in a way that was almost comparable; since you were mere inches apart. He didn't sit still, and adjusted his position every so often, but you had the feeling that was the norm since Deacon didn't mention it.

However, it seemed by the near-ending Ted reached his limit on not making at least one comment.

"Dude. I forgot how impressive the special effects are," he mused in his best attempt at a hushed tone. "Must've taken them ages to do this stuff."

"Yeah," you agreed, glancing over, "it's pretty cool. Slimer really gives me the creeps."

Ted opened his mouth to respond, but shut up when a loud "shhh!" came from Deacon's general direction.

For a moment, you and him just looked at each other. Then, not able to stifle it in time, you snorted; he lapsed into a fit of giggles, and as a result of that so did you. It wasn't really your fault -- his laugh was very contagious, even muffled like this.

Somehow, you managed to get through the rest of the movie without much more incident. Even if your heart lurched every time Ted's arm or leg accidentally brushed up against yours with the way he was fidgeting.

By the time it was over, it was around six, and so you called to order a pizza. Ted didn't retreat back upstairs, much to Deacon's disappointment, and pretty much hovered around you as you all waited for dinner to arrive. Not in a weird way, not at all -- he just resembled a puppy trying to get attention, really.

"What'd you think of the movie?" He asked, just after you'd gotten off the phone with the pizza place.

"It was pretty good," you hummed, putting down the receiver. "A couple moments were slow, but overall I enjoyed it. What's not to like about some guys capturing ghosts and defeating otherworldly entities?"

"An excellent way to phrase it," grinned Ted, "and I agree most wholeheartedly. The ghost-buster dudes are impossible not to root for."

You chatted a little more about it with him; his way of talking was a bit unique, but somehow you found it just as attractive as everything else. Sadly, your conversation was cut short by the doorbell. As soon as you'd taken a single step in the direction of the door --

" -- I'll get that!" declared Ted, with an enthusiasm that was a little frightening, already moving to grab the pizza.

"Hey, wait, there's money on the counter!"

"... Oh."

Backtracking, he grabbed the cash and resumed his course to the door, covering the distance with long strides.

It wasn't long before the food was gone; and you unceremoniously stuffed the ripped-apart cardboard box into the recycling bin like last time, hoping Mr. Logan wouldn't take issue with how you'd basically just jammed it in. After Deacon had wolfed down maybe three slices, he'd disappeared somewhere. Probably to his room -- you reminded him to be in bed in time, lest Mr. Logan stop letting you babysit, and he'd only replied with a dull "okay".

You were practically alone with Ted now.

"So, uh." He broke the silence as soon as you returned to the living room. "... Wanna go upstairs? There's not much to do down here 'sides watching more movies."

"I don't see why not," you said without thinking.

For a second, he looked caught off-guard just as much as you were, (seriously, what) but recovered quickly. "Cool. C'mon, dude."

Beaming, he motioned to you, and you were helpless to do anything but follow.

His room was a bit messy, but you would've found it strange if it wasn't. Posters were all over the walls, Metallica and Van Halen and other assorted bands and movies. In the corner was a shelf filled to the brim with various memorabilia; action figures, guitar picks, markers and books that looked kind of dusty. His laundry bin was overflowing a little, but at least it was confined to another corner. Everything was just so Ted and that was probably the best way to describe it.

He made his way over to the window, opening it just a crack. "Let's just keep the window open so we can hear Dad pulling in the driveway. His car is super loud -- I think he'd go ballistic if you were hanging out with me."

You knew he was right, but it still struck a minor chord on your heartstrings -- which you attempted to move past as fast as possible. "Oh, yeah. Good thinking."

At your compliment, he was all smiles again.

You felt yourself melt a little, and sat on the bed before your knees gave out or something.

Before long, you were both sprawled out on the carpet playing a serious game of Uno. For a guy who you were learning wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, he was pretty good at making you question your own abilities; either that or he was just extremely, ridiculously lucky. He did have an awful poker face, after all.

He snickered every time he drew a plus four or plus two card, and blanched whenever he didn't have a playable card. Which was cute, but also pretty advantageous for you.

After a frustratingly long time of going back and forth; of him denying you every single time you dared call Uno, you finally won.

"Dude!" Ted exclaimed, throwing down his hand as if deeply and truly offended, but you could see that he was grinning again. "That was totally 'cause I let my guard down."

"I don't know," you teased, "or maybe it was because of my great and unbeatable card-game skills."

He hung his head in mock-shame. "You're right. I suck."

You were conflicted between bullying him a little more or comforting him to lessen the blow of your victory, but before you could decide, you both heard the tell-tale sound of tires crunching on the pavement and the whir of the garage door opening. Ted scrambled over to the window, peeking through the small opening he'd left earlier.

"He's back," he announced, turning back to face you.

"Okay," you said, getting to your feet and making sure you hadn't dropped anything. "See you later, Ted."

" 'Bye!" He called after you.

Thankfully, you managed to make it down to the living room, jump onto the couch, and fumble for the remote just in time to turn on the television a good minute before Mr. Logan entered. During that brief time, you felt strangely like you were a spy, a double-agent -- that if you were caught fraternizing with the enemy, you'd be given grave consequences.

It was hilarious, you had to admit.

Mr. Logan didn't ask you about Ted this time, just cutting right to the chase and taking out his wallet.

"Is the change on the counter again?"

"Yeah," you answered, giving him a "thanks" as he handed you a couple bills. You marveled again at how clean they were -- it almost felt criminal to stuff them in your pocket, but what else could you do?

Once more, Mr. Logan turned away, going for the counter. "Good night." If he was as disinterested as he sounded, it was no wonder why he didn't try to make small talk with you at all. And you were grateful for it; you were sure that it'd just be awkward and nothing else. You rushed a little to leave.

But just as your hand turned the doorknob, you were stopped in your tracks by a shout.

"Wait!"

Apparently, you and Mr. Logan were both equally shocked, because he also whipped around mid-action.

In Ted's hasty descent down the stairs, he nearly tripped over himself, but regained what little composure he'd been holding onto, and jogged over to you. Either he didn't notice his father standing there, looking utterly baffled; or he just didn't care. In his hands he was holding a cassette tape.

He held it out to you, still catching his breath. The color in his cheeks could be attributed to his rush downstairs, but you had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't entirely the case. "Here. Sorry. I was gonna give it to you earlier," bashfulness showed clearly in his expression, "but I forgot."

It was only a second before you realized that you'd have to exit the situation to avoid any questions from his father -- whose eyes were darting between the two of you in an extremely worrying manner. So you took it from him, even whilst having absolutely no idea what it was.

"Thanks."

And with that, you were out the door.

The second you got home, you got a good look at the tape.

On the outside, written in an untidy scrawl in black Sharpie, was your answer. It was a mixtape. How much time had he spent making this for you? Your mind conjured up an image of him sitting by the record player you'd seen in his room, painstakingly selecting his favorite songs to record.

Flipping it over, you realized there was a scrap of paper taped to it -- a note.

You hardly had to think about the question hastily written on it with a bright pink marker, with little stars doodled around the edges.

It was the only thing that was running through your mind for the rest of the night. They were agonizing, the few days that passed before you finally received a call from Mr. Logan again. It was probably the only time ever that you were glad to hear his voice.

Deacon was a little disappointed when you told him to wait a minute to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark.

"Don't start loudly making out or anything," he said, sulking as you quickly ascended the stairs. You wanted to scold him for the sake of preserving your own dignity, but you had more pressing matters to focus on at the moment.

"So," Ted began sheepishly, after you entered his room. "You got my note, right?"

"I listened to the tape, too," you answered near-breathlessly. "Yes. I'd love to spend more time with you, Ted." You smiled broadly. "You're really sweet, you know that?"

He went bright red in response.

And then ducked behind his bangs.

It took him a little while to speak, but you were patient.

" … thanks, dude. I'm really glad," he finally murmured. "I spent ages making that tape, but it wasn't until I was gonna give it to you that I realized that. Like. Just hanging out like this wasn't gonna be enough. At all."

Right now, the main emotion your brain was registering was giddiness.

"I'm really glad, too."

#ted logan x reader #ted logan x you #ted logan imagine #ted logan imagines #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #bill and ted imagine

426 notes · View notes

lokiwaffles · 17 days

Text

OOF SO TIRED. Anyways, here they are!!! Ash and Em(ery)! They took about 14 hours to complete! These are their designs when they are about 16 years old, in 2015. Their clothes probably vary from loop to loop, but everything else usually stays the same. Click for better quality because it is detailed I think but tumblr still killed it. Also there are design notes!

LORE DUMP BELOW (this is stuff i brainstormed over the past few days hehe):

-Both grew up in the Sanctum, both are orphans. Em’s parents are alive, Ash’s are dead.

-born 1999, Em in February, Ash in July.

-Both are sorcerers. Emery is proficient in offensive magic, and Ash is better at defensive magic.

-Ash and Emery learn about the loop near the very beginning, by accident. They tell the Ancient One who learns the loop cannot be broken and decides to use a memory erasing spell on the two. Unfortunately the spell goes wrong. This leads to Ash and Em remembering every subsequent time loop.

-They figure out who exactly is causing the loop after a few dozen loops— Holly and Co.

-Cursed with the knowledge of the loop, unable to grow up or move on, Ash and Em try different methods to figure out how to release everyone. This involves anything from attempting to keep Iris and Holly away from eachother as long as possible, or outright killing either of them. They figure out after more trial and error that Holly’s death causes a reset.

-Ash performs spells frequently to make the pair forget any of the darker things they’ve done, with only a vague “we did that already, don’t do it” triggered in their minds whenever they think of doing it again.

-They pity Holly, vaguely, but resent her immensely. For obvious reasons.

Iris annoys them, but they’ve figured out long ago they can’t really change her behavior. They know of Gray and Izzy, but neither play a huge part in Holly’s deaths 75% of the time.

-They have summoned Mephisto, and have even fought him before, but he always either kills them or kinda just laughs at them and flicks them away like little bugs. They’ve tried bartering, promising their souls, pretty much everything. He rejects them, and seems to delight in their suffering.

-They are super super close, and extremely dependent on one another. They’re past any sort of knowable bond (romance, platonic, etc.), and somewhat in the realm of literally two halves of the same person. They know one another perfectly.

-They have had arguments that spanned a couple decades, where they just. Ignore each other for loops at a time. But they always make up in the end.

-Have canonically lived hundreds of thousands of years. Em knows everything there is to know about 2010s marine biology. Ash is really good at art, if he could only retain the muscle memory.

-They have also convinced the sorcerers at the sanctum/any available avengers to come help fight Mephisto a few dozen times but it never goes well. Mostly because Mephisto never shows up to any challenge.

-The two have left Earth a few hundred times but never really find it interesting in space.

-Emery is a somewhat obsessive planner, and has the strength to execute any plans- by force of will, or magical strength. She is smart and strong, and knows it. She has a problem where she often thinks she knows better than others (mostly Ash), but Ash hates it when he feels as if he’s doing something “for his own good” or being ordered around. Em often ignores other people’s advice as well, but Ash gently reminds her that she does need to listen to what other people say, and that other perspectives matter.

-Ash is more laid back, but is smart as well. His is more of a subtle intelligence, more emotionally attuned. He’s less strategic, but he can predict what people think and how they will act, even outside of the timeloop. He thinks often of other people’s perspectives, and is more lenient towards Holly’s mistake than Em is (but just by a fraction). It’s hard to make him mad, but if you do, know he has Emery’s full support behind him. He is stands up to Em’s bossiness just fine.

-that’s all for now but I have TONS more info so if you have questions, just ask!!! I’ve probably thought about it at some point. Or I will. Work is a great place to brainstorm oc stuff.

Oh and here are individual outfit lineups:

#art #original character #character ref sheet #ash kreeslammer #emery castillo #marvel oc #RETCON EVERYTHING FROM DECEMBER PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

10 notes · View notes

gcldfanged · 1 month

Text

Meet the Writer

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

(CANON MUSES) -

Genesis: I actually HATED Genesis initially in the og CC game. I thought he was a lame addition and just like… idk, they wanted Gackt in the game so they made his presence plot relevant? OOOUGH, I was so mad… But then I saw how the rpc and fandom treats him, which is honestly even WORSE SOMEHOW??? So I decided to try writing him seriously and what do you know, I actually kinda like it.

Verdot: I literally have to make the content I wanna see in this rpc, such is my burden. my curse...

(OCs) - I wanted to write about the themes I have on my pinned and honestly, there were so many Tseng rpers who I am friends and mutuals with that knock it out of the fucking ballpark- I just didn't feel like I'd have ANYTHING new or good to contribute to the exploration of his character? So I made an OC :P And he's really changed so much! I remember when I was still making my own art for him and he wasn't QUITE like there the way I wanted him to be, but I didn't have anything better to employ as a faceclaim or reference to draw from. And then Cas was like "btw here's a manga about your HYPERFIXATION" and Kokonoi's general appearance and vibe was a great starting point to go off of instead.

Anyway, There's always things I had planned for Jae in the works or on the backburner, but he has really evolved over the span of years I've been writing him, so I really appreciate every person who took the time to check him out and build something with him.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

You know, I have been becoming more lenient with allowing myself to write certain things. I always end up being afraid of how people will react to certain themes I explore because... let's be real, a lot of people are pretty intolerant to opinions that are different than theirs. So long as whatever I and/or my partner explore is handled with the care and respect it deserves, I don't really see an issue with much anymore. Hell, I was terrified to post that one drabble fleshing out Jae meeting Veld for the first time because I was afraid people would see Jae's reaction to killing someone as somehow 'excusing abuse' because he wasn't dancing on the guy's corpse and actually showed remorse for what he did. It's fears of what I write about being misconstrued like that that really makes me hesitant to even talk about certain ideas with partners. But I'm getting over that, little by little and step by step.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

I actually love writing (as you can tell) introspective pieces. Something where you're really getting inside the character's head for a moment to see past all of their walls and facades, or sometimes you're still seeing what they tell THEMSELVES is the real undiluted truth, but isn't. I just love that kinda stream of consciousness really dig deep into the VOICE of a character exploration. Makes me feel lots of emotions.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

Usually I'll be doing something else like watching a piece of media or listening to a podcast and start to think "Ooh, my muse would love this" or "this makes me think of xyz muse wow", and it just kind of expands organically from there.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

Music helps get me inspired initially, especially since I make spotify playlists for all my muses (and ships :P), so generally I'm cool with music, but usually I zone in too much on my own writing to pay attention. It's like my sense of hearing turns off.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

Both- There's always a general sort of... idea or outcome that me and my partner would LIKE to shoot for? And sometimes we just don't get there, because it really depends on what the characters do/say and how it's taken by the other muse.

For example, I was roleplaying a thread with @steeleidolon's Kunsel where he and Jae are trying to broker a deal and Kunsel ends up saying something to the effect of "your people" and he means the Turks. Jae, on the other hand, hears 'your people' and assumes Kunsel was bringing up his race and the perception of fellow people from Wutai or Hanuel being unfairly insular. So, it kinda went to shit, LOL.

It's little things like that that can color your muse's reaction to sometimes very different degrees than what you plan for!

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

I like complicated dynamics and no, I will never shut up about them. Ships for me don't even have to strictly be romantic or sexual in nature, so like- I have some interactions I'm still feeling out with @saishuu-heiki that are platonic but leaning in a distinctly enemy/frenemy/challenges other person kind of vibe? And I think it's great! They don't HAVE to be like "we're friends, we're lovers, or we hate each other'- Like, limiting all your interactions to one of those three options gets really boring for me...

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

King_Kkeungi is my mangaka pseudonym for the Silent Manga Audition that I tried submitting to last year. People have called me just "King" (if they didn't know how to pronounce Korean) or "Kkeungi" before, so I tend to go by these handles now.

ᴀɢᴇ?

30s, I'm like Dagon: ancient and evil, spoken about in hushed whispers that the zealots who follow my dark lore worship-

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

May 10th

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

Blue-greens like teal and turquoise, soft pastel mint, and pinky-purples

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

Currently? PRIMADONNA by Kedarui! It's a sequel to their other song, Femme Fatale and has amazing lore and characters. It's just got fascinating kinda themes and imagery when you watch them back to back.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

The 2nd DUNE movie, holy crap, I was blown away!

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Hell's Paradise, which I am still TRYING to finish.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

Philip by millenium parade, my new go-to Jae song

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

Thai or Vietnamese food *drools*

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

Summer... I just love the heat and the sun and the iconic imagery/sounds/themes like eating watermelon and wearing floppy plastic sandals, melting ice cream, hearing the chime of our furin while sitting outside on the porch of the house.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

I talk to regularly (like near every day): @ceaselxss, @annjiru, @phoenixshards, @sadistpet, @nightiingaled. Like talking with a lot: @speedchasing, @ofdeference, @hisnewera, @cwarscars, @contemptim, @steeleidolon, @altrxisme, @hxbiris & @hxvemxnd

The people who have known me the LONGEST are mostly discord only rpers now, but Tricky, HD, Kit, and Vixen I consider to be extremely close to me since we've been friends for... like over or around 6+ years and are still ongoing buddies who have met face to face before.

Then there's my ex-fiancee, but he doesn't do tumblr rp anymore.

This list also doesn't even cover ppl I write with/ooc interacted with over a long period of time like @ivory-paragon, @poeticphoenix, @reapersxfolly, @endweapon, @chthonicsurge, or @dcviltriggcr, so- I like reaching out to people and developing bonds! We don't even have to be on discord capslocking at each other, it's really cool when you can come back to an RPC and still have that connection without any awkward small talk?

#◈ ooc #◈ dash games #◈ MUNDAY

13 notes · View notes

pittdpeaches · 3 months

Note

Hi there! Sorry if you’ve already been asked something similar to this haha-

Do you have any writing tips? Anything you wish you’d known earlier? Things you would suggest avoiding?

I’m also curious how you plan your fics if you don’t mind sharing haha

aaaaa hello hello! Apologies for not getting to this sooner, I've been in the process of going to study abroad, but I have some time to sit down and answer this properly. I'm not sure if I have things I wish I'd known or advise you to avoid, but I can share writing tips and fic processes.

Way back in like, october 2022, I made a huge google doc with like 12 different fic ideas I had. I go back to it now and again and add some ideas, or work on others. If I'm particularly inspired by something, I may even make it into a bigger doc. Usually I have an idea of what story I'd want to write and a handful of scenes seared in my head, and it's just a matter of adding scenes in between to get to the Big Stuff. A lot of the time, the story I start with shifts from there in order to justify getting to the original scenes I've planned out.

For example: Genus Datura was supposed to be a sickfic/intoxication fic where Red Son got so fucked up he started genuinely believing MK was his husband, because there was No Way this was real, he had to be dreaming, while a very real, *not* married MK tried to take care of him. The main scenes in my head were the hair washing scene and Red Son throwing up all over MK, but it was a matter of stretching it out into a bigger plot. I wasn't sure *how* Red Son would get into that state, so I did some research and found out jimsonweed is a very poisonous plant that causes hallucination and even death.

This bit of research was great because I could use an element from the actual show in the fanfic, but it also changed the story's tone. It wasn't a silly fic about Red Son spilling his affections to a very real MK-Red Son gets genuinely poisoned, and believes MK is proof of that. It also changed the reason why Red Son was working with the crimson jimsonweed-Princess Iron Fan needed him to work on it, which meant this was to some degree, Princess Iron Fan's fault.

Sometimes, it's less a matter of research changing the fic and more stream of consciousness? I didn't plan for the car scene between Red Son and MK in Genus Datura, but it just sort of poured out the more I wrote, and I went along with it.

While I do sometimes play with the idea of writing the sillier genus datura, I'm really happy with how it turned out. I enjoyed the writing process for it immensely.

I have a pretty spastic writing schedule-I'll do huge 5-8k chunks of writing over the course of a couple hours or a single day, and then just *not* write for a couple days or even a week. I wouldn't say it's the *healthiest* schedule per say, but it works for me and I'm overall pretty content with it. That being said, if you can stretch your writing out over the course of several days rather than jamming it into one, I'd recommend that more to others lmao.

So, here's some advice:

Firstly, make an outline. I'm not a big outlining person myself, I usually just have the chapter number and like, a short blurb about what I want to happen, but that alone is good enough. There's nothing worse than having a scene in your head and then completely forgetting it when you sit down to write three days later.

Take your time writing! Schedules and deadlines you create for yourself are handy if you want consistency, but life isn't consistent, and sometimes you need to be lenient with yourself. Write what you can, and if you can't some days, don't.

If you're stuck on something, genuinely go outside. Or stay inside, doing something completely different. Work on something else. The brain is fascinating-it works on things even when we don't really think about them. Give yourself some time away from your story and eventually, it'll come to you.

Play around with your ideas, even if you don't expect them. You might change something you thought was an integral aspect of the story at some point, and you might switch it out for something you'd just came up with on the spot. And that's okay. If this is where the story wants to take you, then go along for the ride.

Most importantly I think is that no matter how silly or stupid you think your writing is, someone out there will love it. Even if you don't get as many views or likes or comments as you'd hope, someone out there keeps your work close to their heart. You've worked hard on something, and you should be proud of that :D

Hope this all helped!!! It's a VERY long response, sorry about that rgurithjn.

17 notes · View notes

aeoki · 3 months

Text

Fist of the Shangri-la Idol - Movie Actor: Chapter 6

Location: Studio Characters: Touri, Hokuto, Makoto, Mao, Yuzuru, Eichi & Wataru Season: Spring

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Ten or so minutes later. Next audition. >

Mao: Alright, then I’ll play the role of the “heroine’s childhood friend”!

(We weren’t given a script so we have no idea what kind of character they are, though…)

(Well, they’re probably saying we need to make a guess while we act it out.)

(Judging by the lines on the board, the “childhood friend” must be the protagonist’s rival in love!)

(They’re someone who gives the kung fu movie a sprinkle of romance – something that will make the audiences’ hearts race.)

“Hey… I’ve got something important I gotta tell you. Could I come over to your place after I’m done with work today?”

Touri: He sounds kinda gross.

Mao: Don’t say that, Touri! I feel pretty hurt hearing that from you for some reason…!

Wataru: No, giving off a gross vibe is correct. The character is a man who uses his position as the childhood friend to get closer to the heroine.

It’s not exactly elegant but he’s supposed to make the audience laugh with his awkward and ridiculous behaviour.

To think you were able to accurately grasp the character just from the name of the role and their short lines… One wouldn’t do well to underestimate your abilities, Mr “Jack of All Trades But Master of None”.

Mao: No no, I was actually trying to show my feelings of love for the heroine…!

Eichi: Is that the extent of your love for your childhood friend?

Mao: I don’t really understand but I don’t think I wanna hear that from you!

Yuzuru: Hehe. We still have other auditions to see, so New President-sama– I mean, Isara-sama, please exit the room. Thank you for your audition.

Mao: Uuu~... Okay, thanks.

I had a feeling it would be hard since I’m not used to auditions. It’s nice that I know the judges so it feels easier, but that still made me feel oddly nervous.

Eichi: Hehe. That’s what life is about – You should get used to it, “Student Council President” ♪

Hokuto: …It appears you’re all idly chatting but can I come in now?

Mao: Oh, you’re next, huh, Hokuto? I know you’ll probably be fine but do your best. This is surprisingly difficult.

Hokuto: Right. I’m aware, seeing as Hibiki-senpai is one of the judges, things aren’t bound to be simple.

He won’t be lenient when it comes to acting. I’ve been acting alongside him for a long time now, but I’ve hardly ever received any words of praise from him.

But that’s also why it makes me want to see his face light up in admiration.

Mao: That’s the spirit. Haha, you’re more motivated than usual, Hokuto. It made me realise once more that you have the blood of an actor running through your veins.

See ya later, good luck.

Hokuto: Right. I’ll do my best.

Eichi: Welcome. Hehe, the favourite has made an appearance. It’s time to test Wataru’s beloved disciple that he has personally brought up himself.

Wataru: Hehehe. You’ll make my heart race if you put it like that.

Alright, Hokuto-kun, please look at the board. Your role and the accompanying lines will be displayed there.

Oh, this is a difficult one! Your role is the “protagonist” and your lines are “to be decided”.

Hokuto: “To be decided…☆”

Wataru: Sorry to burst your bubble after that shout, but the words “to be decided” is not really your line, you see.

Eichi: It’s actually left blank in the script.

To tell the truth, the first draft of the movie script was only completed this morning. There are still blanks and other parts left unfinished.

It’ll be polished and refined into the complete script that will be used in the actual filming later on.

Wataru: Hehehe. Scripts tend to be revised during the production as situational changes crop up here and there.

The same can be said for stage plays, so I’m sure you already know that, Hokuto-kun.

Hokuto: It’s rare for the script to be revised on the day of the performance.

You used to add new things whenever you thought of them, but normally that’s not possible, right?

Well, nevermind. But what should I do? I wouldn’t have a clue even if you tell me to act it out without the lines. What is this supposed to be, a Buddhist riddle?

Wataru: Err, the context is finished, but it seems we’re missing the perfect lines capable of encapsulating the character.

This is the climax scene in the movie as well. The screenwriter must be looking for impactful lines that will leave a lasting effect on the audience.

The deadline came before the lines were created, so they decided to submit the script with the main character’s lines as “to be decided”. Or so it’s presumed.

Hokuto: Why would they send in a script that’s unfinished? That’s not very professional at all.

Wataru: To think of all people, it would be you to use that word.

Eichi: Hehe. This is what you’ll do.

We’ll tell you the setting for the scene as an exception, so come up with the appropriate lines as you deem fit.

No, please act it out. It’s a climatic scene that’s supposed to make the audience shed emotional tears.

Hokuto: Hmm. Alright. So this is improv. I do have experience so it should be possible.

Wataru: Hehehe. We sure did a lot of improv at the Yumenosaki Drama Club, didn’t we~? ♪

Hokuto: Indeed. Tomoya was surprisingly good at it. He could fully immerse himself into his role.

Wataru: While you were absolutely awful on the other hand. You weren’t flexible at all…

But I’d like to think that you, too, have grown after spending all those days at the Drama Club.

We’ll give you the setting now: Your dearest heroine has been kidnapped by your hateful rival and you’re here to take her back.

Hokuto: Understood.

Wataru: The poor heroine is in tears as she is stabbed with a knife and although you were calm the entire time, you let out your voice in a burst of rage for the first time there.

The protagonist then awakens his hidden powers and challenges his arch-enemy to a one-on-one battle in order to retrieve the heroine – to retrieve his love.

Please come up with suitable lines for that scene and act it out!

Hokuto: Alright. Watch me, “Club President”, I’ve grown since the first time we met.

*Inhales*

Hokuto: “Heh… Fret not now that I have arrived. Don’t cry – I love you most when you smile.”

Wataru: Nope~! You haven’t changed at all…!

Touri: Wait, that wasn’t a joke…? It’s supposed to be a kung fu movie, so it felt a bit weird when he was acting like a prince.

Yuzuru: Indeed, I was even able to see beautiful flower petals fluttering about.

Wataru: That, I cannot call growth!

That very action you make will change the entire genre of the movie! Please learn to act out other roles aside from a “prince”...!

Eichi: Hmm. Maybe you’re lacking in imagination? Is that all you can come up with in a scene where you have to “save the heroine”?

Hokuto: Hm? That’s harsh – I did my best there…

Makoto: (...S–Sounds like something’s going on. Hidaka-kun’s auditioning right now, isn’t he?)

(Hidaka-kun has a lot of experience acting in plays for the Drama Club, but if he’s also getting chewed out then…)

(What’s gonna happen to an amateur like me~!?)

(I’m scared! This reminds me of the first time I was in front of a camera as a kids model!)

(It’s fun challenging myself with new things, but I can never get used to this anxiety and nervousness~!)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#shangri-la

0 notes

sunfish-studies · 3 years

Text

VS Umbrella

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall. This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing.

Previous: ‹ Illusionary Hero › | Next: ‹ Cogs ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

A new special move!

The third day of summer training camp and the temperature was still rising. Under the cool shade of the tree upon the hill, you, Shimizu, and Yachi were preparing cool electrolyte drinks for the team. Usually, you three done it in the gym but experiencing how hot the weather was, you three decided brought the bottles uphill so the team could drink immediately in order to avoid dehydration.

“That’s a different type of brand you use, [Name]-chan.” Shimizu commented, seeing a different colored package of electrolyte drink in your hand.

“Oh, Kageyama-kun usually used this particular brand,” you replied, pouring the powder into the bottle and turn the lid close, then you shook the bottle so it would mix thoroughly. Your upperclassman hummed in understanding from your answer.

While it was the third day of training, it’s also marked the three weeks of Kageyama and Hinata not talking to each other even though it didn’t hinder their practice. It worried you a bit, but you knew the two of them would talk eventually.

“Great work,” you said, offering the bottle to Kageyama when he and the rest of the boys arrived uphill. He rasped out a thank you before immediately downing the drink.

“Hinata-kun, this is yours!”

“Thank you!”

You purposely be the one to delivered the bottle straight to the person–Hinata was keeping a quite distance from Kageyama and you didn’t want to force the orange-haired boy to get closer with the raven-haired setter.

“Wuaah, it’s nice and cool,” Hinata sighed in content, placing the bottle upon his cheek–enjoying the coolness radiating from it. After satisfied in cooling down his face, he soon downed the drink. Now that you think, you rarely talk to Hinata these days with him busy with his practice.

“[Name]-san, is your arm okay?” ah, he must be referring to the long cut on your arm.

“It’s already a month, Hinata-kun, it’s healed but it does leave a scar,” you lifted your arm, showing a faint lighter line present on your skin where your wound previously at.

“Oh, sorry,” frowns don’t suit Hinata at all–he’s a bright ball of beaming energy, a warm figure who could lit your day in an instant. It’s his nature, and seeing him becoming dejected from the start of the day was worrying.

“It’s fine, Hinata-kun, it’s not your fault anyway. It was an accident,” you dismissed his apology. “And if you need anything, just call out for me, okay? I’ll do my best to help you.”

You didn’t know what force that made you say those words, but you know you couldn’t take it back–you didn’t intend too anyway. Hinata always worked hard by himself, so you want to support him as much as possible. The orange haired boy looked taken a back before a giving you that infamous wide, sunny grin.

“Okay! And call me Shoyo, then! I call you by your first name so it’s fair if you call me like that too!”

“Alright, then, Shoyo-kun.”

The temperature was still rising–the burning hot atmosphere exhausted your boys even further than before. It would get rough, both for their body and mind eventually. You could feel your skin prickling–the tension was rising faster than before, tiredness building up, and sooner or later it would get to them.

“Damn it!” you gripped on your hand a little tighter after hearing Hinata’s scream of frustration. He failed to get the ball over the net because he lost in terms of strength with Lev. For the past three days, he couldn’t hit any ball comfortably, and with the battle of height always looming over him he had nothing to fight it with.

The match continued–Nishinoya tossed the ball perfectly, and then Kageyama went up to made a toss. Hinata, noticing there was a chance for a quick immediately jumped. Even though the ball barely being hit, it still got over the net and fell on the opposite court.

“You held back, didn’t you!?” his upperclassmen’s praises went over his head as Hinata yelled in anger at Kageyama.

“Held back?” the raven-haired setter also didn’t like the approach, glaring back menacingly. “Me? With volleyball?”

Thankfully before a fight could break, Takeda-sensei already asked for a time-out–with that, at least the two could cool down for a bit and not causing ruckus on the court in the middle of a match.

“That wasn’t the falling toss!” Hinata’s next words, caught you off guard. He noticed something’s different with the toss? It looked the same to you.

“It wasn’t?” Takeda-sensei questioned.

“I mean, looking back, it technically may not have been.” Coach Ukai answered, a thumb under his chin. “I think what just happened is that the toss right now wasn’t like the falling tosses he’s been getting, but more of a parabola.”

It clicked in your mind–the abrupt change suddenly made sense. “Does that mean Kageyama-kun is trying to get Shoyo-kun to hit the ball no matter what?”

“It’s on purpose?” Yachi turned to look at you.

“But what for?” Shimizu’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Hinata hasn’t hit a spike comfortably for a while now,” Coach Ukai was the one who answered to their question. “That’s pretty stressful for a spiker. Kageyama might have subconsciously been worried that Hinata’s might not play as well because of that.”

You frowned in worry, seeing how Hinata still rooted on his spot despite Tanaka’s attempt to dragged him off the court. And it also worried you that Kageyama was looking utterly dejected–maybe he realized for a moment that he pulled his punches. Thankfully it was only a moment–everything was resolved rather quickly and practice resumed.

After practice at night, you found yourself helping Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi in the third gym. The owl captain immediately dragged you away as soon as the last practice was over (you swore you could hear Tanaka and Nishinoya’s screams of fury), so here you were, throwing balls to Akaashi so he could toss it to Bokuto. Surprisingly, Tsukishima was present as well–now, he’s learning to block with Kuroo’s guidance.

“Oh? Tsukki, [Name]-chan, did you bring a friend today?” Bokuto suddenly asked, which confused the two of you.

“Pardon?” Tsukishima questioned.

When you threw a look over your shoulder, you immediately took a notice of an extremely familiar figure with orange hair by the door. Calling out, you gave him a smile. “Shoyo-kun!”

“[N-Name]-san!”

“What happened to your partner?” Tsukishima asked.

“Kageyama’s practicing on his own again,” Hinata answered. “I was trying to get Kenma to throw me tosses, but he ran away after the fifth one.”

“It’s amazing that you got Kenma to even give you five during practice,” Kuroo remarked.

“So, please let me practice with you!” another surprised for you because Lev showed up and asking the same thing.

“Lev!”

“Oh, Hinata,” the silver-haired boy then noticed you and immediately waved his hands enthusiastically. “Otohaku-chan!! You’re here too!!”

“Lev, quit flirting with the manager and I thought you were practicing receives with Yaku.” Kuroo said and of course, the mention of Nekoma’s libero, Lev stiffened.

“He said I was doing well today, so he let me go!”

From the looks of it, it was no doubt he ran away while Yaku was having a bathroom break or something else that required him for leaving the gym. But Kuroo, being the lenient and laid-back captain he is, dismissed it.

“Well, whatever,” he sighed. “Then, we have the right number of people, so let’s play three-on-three. [Name], you’re in charge of the score.”

Nodding in understanding, you pushed the score board closer and changed the names above–cats and owl, it reminded you of the two captain’s characteristics. You were fine in looking over the match, but this match was quite ridiculous. Thankfully, you’re not the only to think so.

“Um, isn’t this just a bit unbalanced?” Akaashi questioned. He was in the same team with Bokuto and Hinata, whereas the opposite team was clearly having more advantage in height–Kuroo, Lev, and Tsukishima are all above 185cm. Still with the disadvantage he got, Hinata was excited for sure.

The match was interesting to watch–even with the lack of extra height for Hinata’s team, they were still on par with Tsukishima’s team. But soon it was stopped by Yukie and Kaori’s appearance.

“If you don’t wrap soon, the cafeteria will close and you won’t get any dinner.” Yukie informed. “Oh? [Name]-chan, you’re here too? That explains why you don’t show up for dinner.”

Frustration was clear to Hinata because he clearly enjoyed the match and he didn’t want it to end, however, with Kuroo’s reassurance that they would continue this tomorrow, he was back bouncing on his feet. You couldn’t help but smile at the captain’s attentiveness.

“Thank you for cheering Shoyo-kun up,” you said, as the seven of you walked towards the cafeteria. Yukie and Kaori said they had to handle other things first so they couldn’t accompany you (it was hard for them to let you go with the boys). “Today’s not a good day for him so this match definitely cheers him up.”

“It’s nothing, and we probably have to apologize to you too,” Kuroo remarked. “Bokuto’s dragging you here, you stuck with us, and missed dinner. Bokuto, you have an apology to make!”

“That’s right, Bokuto-san, you made Otohaku-san missed dinner.” Akaashi piped up. “Tomorrow she has to wake up early to prepare breakfast, too.”

As if struck by lightning, Bokuto froze and turned stiffly to look at you before he went on a full apology-mode–as far as dropping on his knees, taking your hands in his, and begging for apology. You laughed nervously, but you knew he was sincere with it.

“I’m sorry, [Name]-chan!! I’ll make it up to you!! Do I need to replace you handling breakfast tomorrow!?”

“N-no, it’s alright, I will be fine and you don’t have to apologize, Bokuto-san. I don’t mind helping you practice.”

“Bokuto-san, you’re making Otohaku-san uncomfortable.”

“Have my back for once, Akaashi!!”

Now that you think of it, your after-practice time was automatically reserved for the third gym. Bokuto would bound towards you, asking for your help as soon as you’re done with your managerial duties. With your nod, he then reached out for your hand and pulled you to ran towards the third gym.

Akaashi already informed you to just dismissed his captain, but you found yourself couldn’t possibly rejected Bokuto’s invitation–especially when his eyes practically shining, you didn’t have a heart to ruin it. That goes for Daichi also, he even offered to talk to Bokuto about it if it bothers you. You were grateful for the two’s offer, still if you could help, you want to be helpful as possible.

It’s probably the third time you helped them practice by throwing balls and keeping an eye on the score board. Well you did your usual managerial duties as well–refilling the water bottles, giving them towels, sometimes wiping the floor when it became too slippery. Kuroo mentioned that you didn’t have to do it since your work hour was over and him, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Lev weren’t from your team.

Again, you dismissed it–it’s not a heavy duty, anyway. In between water break, Tsukishima asked about why on earth Kuroo wanted to help them when they would end up being rival in the end.

The captain cleared his throat. “I want to make the Battle at the Garbage Dump a reality. It’s what our coach wants more than anything. But who knows how much longer our coach is going to continue coaching? So, because of that, we need you guys to keep winning too.”

Overall, you understood Kuroo’s reason, but there was something that piqued your curiosity.

“Uhm, I know this question might sound strange, but, what is Battle at the Garbage Dump?” you asked.

“Oh, that’s right, we haven’t explained anything to Yachi-san and [Name]-san!” Hinata said.

“To put it simple, it’s like destined match between Karasuno and Nekoma.” Tsukishima explained. “It’s been going since the previous Coach Ukai’s time.”

“Karasuno and Nekoma will climb up until they could go to nationals and then will meet up on the orange court.” Kuroo grinned, reaching up to ruffle your hair lightly.

“That’s… so cool,” you muttered. You couldn’t find the exact words to express the awe you’re feeling. A match in the orange court between destined rivals, it’s almost like straight up from a manga or a movie. Other teams could research but playing against a team that knows you really well is going to be an absolute thrill–probably the best match Karasuno could get.

“Right, right!?” Hinata went up to you and asked excitedly.

“Come on. Let’s get back to practice!” Kuroo informed and all of you immediately went to your assigned place.

Practice went on–still between the Owl and Cat group. When Bokuto had to score against someone tall like Lev and Tsukishima, he didn’t kill the ball instead he hit it purposely against the block–returning it to the team for a more proper toss. Knowing how Hinata was hungry for development, surely he wouldn’t miss this.

After Bokuto managed to kill the ball with an intense straight towards the back line, he instantly approached him to ask about it. Soon, the game continued. This time, it was Lev who went for the score but managed to be soft-blocked by Akaashi. The last ball went to Hinata and you witnessed an absolutely underhanded way of blocking.

“Ah! Hey!” Bokuto screeched, also feeling the unfairness. “You guys are playing dirty!”

Hinata had to face three blockers above 185 cm with not a good toss.

“Nowhere to aim,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes in slight annoyance.

However, Hinata intended to face them–he hit the ball to Lev’s fingertips and it flew over before dropping to the inner-side of the opposite court. He jumped high enough and landed on his back instead.

“Shoyo-kun, you’re amazing!” running and kneeling beside him, you praised. Technically, you’re supposed to check on him but it flew over your mind for a second. “It’s an amazing block-out!”

“Did…you actually aim for that?” Kuroo questioned in disbelief. “That was an amazing wipe!”

“Well, I did aim for Lev’s fingertips.”

“What!?” Lev took a full offense in this.

Still, Bokuto was impressed by the lack of fear the younger had. The owl captain was showering him with praises as the rest of you watched from the sidelines. It went well until Bokuto proposed a ‘special move’–which made almost everyone dropped their beliefs, Hinata seemed to be excited by it though.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyu manager #haikyuu manager #karasuno x reader #hinata x reader #kageyama x reader #shimizu x reader #shimizu kiyoko x reader #yachi hitoka x reader #yachi x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #lev x reader #tsukishima x reader #kageyama tobio x reader

257 notes · View notes

zi-i-think · 3 years

Text

Emotional Support Himbo

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1200+

Warnings: none

Request: yes, @wist-elia

Prompt: Gen Z

23. “Will you be my emotional support himbo?”

AN: JSKINFINFS So almost a year later I have finally posted this. I'm sorry. I don't really have any excuse other than I've been busy and kinda forgot about them. I hope you like it nonetheless. It was basically halfway finished when I got back to it. I think this is the last request I had for the batch I got months ago so I might open the requests again in a bit.

*not my gif

Okay, let’s be completely honest here. Y/n was nervous as hell. When she found out that her mom got a job in the Ministry of Magic in London, she was happy for her, excited even. But transferring from Ivermorny to Hogwarts turned out to be the most nerve-wracking part of it.

It was her sixth year and the school was more curious about the TriWizard Tournament than the new girl. She was thankful for it, there weren’t as many people asking her questions. But it was certainly annoying when people completely forgot she was new and picked on her for not knowing the way around. They were in a castle where stairs changed every couple of minutes, she figured people would at least be a bit more understanding.

As the weeks went by, things got better, for sure, but y/n was still struggling to fit in. She had some friends that she met from her House and classes, but none of them were close and she still occasionally got lost. Originally, she relied on Quidditch to find her place in the big school, but with the tournament, they were canceled for the year. So without strong friends or a hobby, she was basically alone.

That was until one sunny afternoon.

Transfiguration had just ended, marking the end of the school day and the beginning of the weekend. But y/n had to stay behind for a bit discussing a not-so-great grade in her last paper. McGonagall was not lenient on grades, but the best she could do was give her tips and points for the next time.

And once the discussion ended Y/n was eager to leave the class and go back to her dorm where she could take a nap or read a book. But once the door shut behind her and she stood out in the cold hallway, the realization settled in. She still wasn’t sure how to get to the Hufflepuff basement. She looked both left and right, down the long, daunting hallways wishing she paid more attention when walking back to the dorms with her roommates.

She took a chance and turned left, walked down some stairs, then up some again, then down, and with the complete wonder of how she got there, Y/n found herself in the lively courtyard. It was warm out and the sun was inviting, making it perfect for students to hang out and have some downtime.

And while the environment seemed like a great time, all the unfamiliar faces were scary to the new girl. She just wanted to get to her dorm. Spotting a small group of students wearing the same black and yellow tie she wore, Y/n pushed aside her fear for the moment and walked over.

“Excuse me?” She asked with a cheerful smile, getting the attention of one girl with brown hair and glasses. “Could you tell me how to get to the Hufflepuff basement?” She kept it simple, that way there'd be less room to say something wrong.

The other girl smiled and her head tilted to the side a bit in amusement.

“You’re the new girl, aren’t you.” She asked. But not in a friendly or curious manner, but in a taunting, humored way.

“Well, yeah,” Y/n answered with a shrug.

“And you don’t know where the Hufflepuff basement is?” She started the chuckle, her friends following along. “Honey, it’s been weeks, figure it out.”

And with that, she turned her head and kept giggling. Her friends chuckled along lightly, but largely just ignored that y/n was standing right there.

Y/n stood there dumbfolded for a moment. But each passing moment that she was standing there, her embarrassment grew and she took a few steps backward to leave the courtyard. She kept her head low to hide any tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes. Her chest felt heavy and her throat tight.

It felt like everyone in the courtyard was now staring. Like on her first day where she was put with all the first years to be sorted. Like a black sheep. But now it felt like they were judging her.

Still, y/n felt too embarrassed to look up and ground herself back into reality. To see that no one was actually paying attention to her. Well except for one particularly bored Gryffindor. Fred Weasley sat up against one of the columns with an apple in hand when he noticed the new Hufflepuff loosely composing herself.

He noted two things about her. One, she was pretty. Definitely his type. And two, she was nervous. He didn’t recognize her from his previous years. There was no way she was in her first year, but she was also in Hogwarts uniform, so she wasn’t from Beubaxton.

He bit into the apple just enough to hold it in his mouth and pushed off the column he was on. Y/n had turned from the courtyard into the corridor of the school figuring that it was better to walk anywhere than wandering the yard aimlessly, walking towards the Weasley. He bit into the apple and right before she passed and then started walking right beside her.

“Apple?” He offered the half-eaten fruit to her.

Y/n jumped a little. She didn’t even see him approach her. She looked at him and then the apple. Her brows furrowed in confusion and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. It was obviously a trick to make her feel even worse about herself.

“Are you offering me an apple that has basically been eaten already?” She asked in annoyance.

Fred then just realized how insensitive the gesture was, so he tossed the apple into his other hand and chuckled at himself.

“I suppose I was. But, we can always go to the Great Hall for another one if you’d like.”

“Honestly, the only place I want to go to is the Hufflepuff common room.” She huffed, wishing this boy would just go away.

Fred’s face twisted in confusion then looked around the hall they were walking down. “You do realize you’re walking the wrong way.” He found himself laughing.

Y/n stopped on her tracks. That was it. She was embarrassed and alone, and on top of that, a Gryffindor was laughing at her. Tears were finally starting to drip down her cheek. “I knew that.” She lied through gritted teeth and turned around the other way.

Finally noticing that he might have done something wrong and that this girl had no clue where she was going, Fred stopped laughing and turned around as well to walk with her.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were upset.” He said. Y/n was now wiping her tears with the sleeves of her cloak. “The kitchens are in the same hall as the Hufflepuff common room. I know that much. How about, I walk you to the kitchens and you should find your house from there.”

Y/n looked up at him with slightly puffed eyes. “You’re actually being sincere?” She asked.

“Don’t get used to it, I’m not usually.” He chuckled. Y/n couldn’t help it this time. His laugh was infectious.

“Alright, I won’t.” She grinned and then stuck her hand out to shake. “Y/n L/n.”

“Fred Weasley.” He took the girl’s hand and kissed her knuckle rather than shaking it.

“You’re odd.” Y/n laughed at the strange gesture. “Will you be my emotional support himbo?”

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips were pressed tightly together as he thought. “Not completely sure what that means.” He admitted. “But yes.”

“Wonderful.” She smiled.

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #harry potter #hogwarts

157 notes · View notes

mysteryshoptls · 2 years

Text

Episode 1-28 Rhythmic Story

LET'S PAINT THE ROSES WITH EVERYBODY!

Trey: How long has it been since you've painted the roses, Riddle?

Riddle: Who knows. I left it to the other dorm students once I became Dorm Leader...

Cater: It'll still be fun to do it once in a while. Well, even though today we've got a couple of troublemaker first graders helping today.

Ace: You talking about us?

Grim: We had to paint a bunch of these already, so we're definitely going to be better at this than Riddle!

Riddle: Fufufu, then show me what you can do.

～FIRST PHASE SUCCESS～

Riddle: You there, your painting is too haphazard! You should coat it evenly with a dark crimson!

Deuce: Y-yes!

Ace: Hey, see, he's still being so strict! I thought he'd be a bit nicer!

Cater: Now, now. This is our Dorm Leader's charm point.

Riddle: If you're going to do it, do it perfectly.

Riddle: In order to have a wonderful party, I won't allow anyone to cut corners. ...Fufu.

～FIRST PHASE FAILURE～

Ace: Turn red! ...Eh? It's actually pretty hard to change the colors using magic...!

Riddle: I won't allow any roses that are not perfectly red. Start over!

Grim: If we do that, our food will get cold!

Trey: Don't you think it's better if we just have fun, even if it comes out looking a little shoddy?

Riddle: I-Is that so... I understand. I will put in the effort to enjoy myself.

Cater: Neat, a lenient Riddle-kun! Maybe I should snap a pic to commemorate this ♪

～SECOND PHASE SUCCESS～

Riddle: Alright, this looks about done.

Ace: Wowー He finished them all in one go!

Deuce: He painted all the roses red with a blinding speed... The Dorm Leader is amazing.

Cater: That's 'cause Riddle-kun is particularly talented when it comes to practical magic～

Trey: Good job, Riddle.

Riddle: And with this, the preparations are complete. Let us begin the Unbirthday Party!

～SECOND PHASE FAILURE～

Riddle: This is the last rose... Does everyone always have this much trouble painting?

Trey: No, it's usually a little easier than this.

Cater: I guess it's just because we had some newbies today～

Ace: We did our best too, you know!?

Grim: Yeah, yeah!

Riddle: I'll hand down guidance to you first years sometime in the near future... For the time being, we've finished the preparations.

Riddle: Let us begin the Unbirthday Party!

#twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #twst riddle #twst ace #twst deuce #twst cater #twst trey #twst grim #twst translation

53 notes · View notes

its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

Consequenses // Thomas Raggi

words // 1590

warnings // smut ahead hehe and not even a full smut, just a snippet honestly

pairing // Thomas Raggi x F!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. ok please let me know on the taglist link if you have asked me to tag you and i havent right now... I lost some of the user names so yeah im so sorry 🥺

request // yes

summary // Reader has been breaking Thomas’ rules by teasing him for days. Thomas eventually is fed up and shows Reader what happens when you disobey.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @bidet-and-legolas @atremendousstrawberrycollection @otaculo @selenophiliaxx

Music, throbbing lights and booze was the way Thomas and his partner decided to spend his weekend off. An average gathering made to feel like a party amongst the closest friends of the band and everyone’s partners. Of course the guitarist couldn’t resist bringing his lover along. He had not seen her in a while, traveling around and working on new music had made the relationship hard for the two of them, things only becoming harder when they started being unsatisfied with their more intimate relationship. The longing did not help much, instead it brought anger and anxiety, both resulting in ruining both of their moods.

The suggestion came from Y/N in the afternoon after Thomas took a break. They were sitting on the couch watching some tv show neither cared for, slowly trying to relax and potentially do more than sitting on the couch. The thought had occurred a few days ago, while the man was still not there, when his lover was maybe watching a bit of an erotic movie. “Maybe we should… switch,” was all she said. No explanation, no details, nothing.

Not much convincing was needed so here they were. Y/N being dominant was finding it a little hard to just sit there and listen. Thus the dom turned into a brat, choosing to tease the man during their first night together.

It was rather simple to get Thomas all riled up this fine night. They happened to have a small fight before the party (a disagreement over minimal things truly) so they were both in a very tense mood while at the party. Thomas was on the one side of the yard, talking with some of his friends, while Y/N was on the other, revealing clothing and lingerie (with certain movements it was visible to the man - and anyone else that paid attention, but not many did). The man was unable to take his eyes off his partner. See, she knew that the result would be pretty good.

“Keep this up and the result will not be very nice for you, amore,” he whispered in her ear when he finally approached her. His hand right above her ass, face too close for comfort.

“I am not sure I want to stop,” said Y/N, an evil smirk decorating her face. Her hips moved side to side, making sure the man could see. Back on her plotting she was.

At first things went smoothly: a bit of seductive dancing, a bit of drinking… The casual. But soon that would change as well. Ethan was sitting on a pool chair, joking about Y/N’s dancing, having a playful back and forth with each other until Y/N sat on his lap. It was nothing unusual for the two, it had happened plenty of times before, but both Thomas and her knew that this time was different.

By now Thomas is fuming. If he was in a cartoon his face would have gone comically red, smoke coming out his face in an exaggerated way. The cigarette and drink in his hand did little to help restrain him. For that, he downed the rest of his drink in an instant, smashing his cigarette on an ashtray and moving to his friends and partner. “Sorry to cut your fun short,” he smiled, trying to keep it together, “but me and Y/N need to go. Honestly, I’m feeling very tired,” he finished, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pulling her up and towards him.

Their friends did not say much, but rather voiced their goodbyes allowing the pair to leave the party.

Getting in the car was now the easy task, but one of them was dreading it. She knew that this would be so fun, but she was undeniably afraid of what could potentially happen that night. “What do you think you have been doing, dolcezza?” He all but growled, roughly turning her face towards his with his hand.

“Me? Nothing. I was just trying to have fun with my friends.” Oh, the innocent act. If Thomas wasn’t hot and bothered (more of the later) already, he certainly was now.

“I don't think so, baby. I think you have been very very naughty. I think you need a punishment.” His tone was playful but his eyes told a different story. Y/N was in for a long night, and they were still in the car. Thomas’ hands had already begun to travel all around his lover, faces dangerously close. And like that the vigorous kissing started.

“You shouldn't have acted like that tonight, amore,” he commented before he started driving back to their shared apartment. The ride was quiet but the tension and anticipation was loud as hell.

Patience was out the window the moment Y/N opened the door to their home. Thomas pushed her to the wall, attacking her neck with kisses. “I warned you enough times, my love, now it’s time for actions,” he commented, hand slowly traveling up to her neck, lightly squeezing, blocking the blood flow lightly making her lightheaded but so much more desperate for him. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall - just like that, good girl! Now, ass perked up.”

She was very well aware of what was about to happen and saying that she did not want it would be a lie. She was rather used to serving spankings to the man whenever he disrespected her - rather lenient - rules, taking such an adrenaline rush every time, but oh did she get a rush now, too. Thomas was getting more and more confident by the minute, Y/N getting rather aroused from it.

Thus she obeyed his demands, pushing her ass back, all there for him to do what he wanted. Thomas quickly got to work moving up her tiny little skirt to have her exposed to his will. Her ass looked amazing in that white lace thong she wore, making the man undeniably hard. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you? You planned for this to happen-” slap, “you knew I would not be able to hold back, didn’t you, puppy?” slap. “Answer me!”

“Yes, daddy,” Y/N responded very timidly, slightly flinching every time he struck her cheeks.

“Good, good. Now count for me, and you will thank me for each slap.”

“One. Thank you, daddy,” she began with his rhythm getting quicker and his force bigger by each slap of his palm. They reached around twenty five before Thomas decided on his next move. He said nothing but roughly turned Y/N around, pulling her towards their shared bedroom, lightly. After closing the door behind him - more out of habit than any actual practical reason- he pushed her to the bed, legs automatically falling open as he stared with lust in his eyes.

“Just sit there and do nothing,” he ordered, “no touching, or there will be consequences.” He did not go far after that, he only undressed and picked up the condoms and the lube, just making sure that she was entirely ready (not that he truly needed it at the moment - just a safety precaution) and knelt in front of his lover.

“Mhm,” he moaned, “you are looking delicious, but I’m not sure you can handle it. Maybe we should do this anoth-”

“No, no! Please, I can handle it! I can handle anything! Please, please!” she exclaimed, or more so whined, making Thomas smirk like a cheshire cat and proceeding with his actions.

“Anything, you say? Hm, we’ll see about that.” Oh boy was she about to regret those words.

His tongue started to tease her immediately as he finished his sentence. It was small short licks and little pecks on her clit, featherly but was agonizing in this case. The pace was slow, timid, really, all in an attempt to show his love in the most painful way possible. Her eyes were shut tightly, mouth hung open releasing heavenly (or rather sinful) noises - a pleasing confirmation of Thomas’ plan working perfectly. Y/N’s back was arched up as her head hung behind, chest bouncing in the attempt to gain more pleasure by Thomas.

“Thommy, please,” she whined, earning a slap on her thigh.

“You are being ungrateful, amore. I shouldn’t be giving you any pleasure at all. You’ll take what you can.” The lack of contact for the few seconds he spoke was enough to cause another fit of whines, but his breath on her heat made far worse ‘damage’.

He wasted no time moving up and away from his disheveled lover, moving to the dresser. Y/N simply sat there, mouth falling open, but this time due to confusion. It was clear that frustration had already started to pick up. Thomas on the other hand was enjoying the situation fully, finding it rather entertaining how he could make her melt so easily.

“Thommy. Come back,” she uttered in her usual dominating tone. Nothing. “Thomas, come back here-”

“What did you just say to me, puppy?” If he was pissed before, now he was livid, and it was clear as day. If this were some weird cartoon his eyes would’ve glowed red - a thought that did not help Y/N’s pleasurable fear. His hand had swiftly reached Y/N’s neck, not tightening up, yet making his stance threatening. “I think you have forgotten how things are going on around here, my love. You are not on the lead right now. I am. And you will pay for that.”

#maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin #thomas raggi imagine #thomas raggi #thomas raggi smut #måneskin #måneskin headcanon #måneskin x reader #måneskin smut

118 notes · View notes

uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Pretense

got inspired by @ramwrites‘s Inked piece. in the same story setting but it’s Hisoka’s s/o

Warnings: blood, mentions of death, very slight yandere behavior

The inside of the tattoo parlor was a lot cleaner than the outside, you decided. That's at least one thing it has in it's favor. Although that doesn't change the fact that you really don't want to be here. Especially since the woman in charge of the shop is not only willing to work for the Phantom Troupe, but also goes ahead in branding the significant others of the troupe.

'Branding' had been the way Hisoka described it, and it sounded pretty accurate. When you asked him why Chrollo would go so far to mark the partners of the troupe, Hisoka had answered with “boss just likes to make sure the most prized possessions of the troupe are marked as such. Cements it further for the more.... Resistant ones.”

Hisoka was currently wandering about the room, inspecting the tools next to the chair before looking to the artwork on the walls, softly humming to himself whenever he spotted a design that he liked. You were sitting in the chair at the center of the room, your legs dangling off the side as you waited for the tattoo artist to come back in. Your hands were folded in your lap as you tried to keep your mind from going crazy with scenarios of how this could go wrong. When it came to the Phantom Troupe, you wanted to have as little contact as possible. Being around them scared you, even more than Hisoka could whenever he got into that state where he was particularly unhinged. And while the woman doing the tattoo wasn't a member herself, just the fact that she was in close contact with Chrollo made you more than a little nervous.

On the other hand, Hisoka was relaxed, and almost seemed a bit excited as he came up behind you to rub your shoulders encouragingly. You turned your head to glare at him, but as usual, he smiled back at you, not taking the look you were giving him seriously.

“Alright, where did you want this thing?”

You turned at the sound of the woman's voice as she reentered the room. She sounded tired, and based off the way she grimaced at the sight of Hisoka, she was probably getting flashbacks to when she needed to tattoo the spider onto his back.

Hisoka tapped on a spot just below your shoulder blades.

“She wants it in the same spot as mine so we can match,” he said cheerfully, “isn't that cute?”

Stupid bastard.

“Sure,” she answered dryly before looking at you, “if you could take off your shirt and lay on the chair; I'll get the stencil out and we can see how the placement looks.”

You wordlessly obeyed, pulling your shirt over your head and folding it in your lap. When Hisoka took it to place it elsewhere, you laid on your front, holding on to the top of the chair to try and ground yourself.

You barely felt it when she placed the stencil on top of your bare skin, and Hisoka quickly agreed to the placement.

“All right, easy enough,” the woman said, more to herself than either of you. But she looked back to Hisoka, motioning with her head as she told him “you go back out to the lobby. I'll let you know when we're finished here.”

Hisoka shrugged.

“Alright then.”

A wave of panic hit you, and you struggled to find your voice for a moment.

“W-wait.”

They both looked at you.

“Could... Could he actually stay with me?” you asked.

Hisoka looked amused. The woman looked annoyed.

“Why?” she asked.

“I don't like needles,” you mumbled.

There was a certain level of disgust that she leveled at you in her gaze, and when Hisoka grabbed a chair and pulled it up so he could sit near the spot where your head lay, she asked “seriously?”

“How could I possibly leave her when she needs me?” was Hisoka's response.

“..... Fine. But you,” she said, jabbing a finger at Hisoka, “need to keep your damn mouth shut.”

Hisoka smiled at her.

She huffed as she got her tools ready.

And you lay still, letting out a small sigh of relief.

When you felt her hand press down on your back and heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun, you reached out for his hand, to which he obliged, taking your hand in his and gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

It stayed relatively quiet for some time, the only noises you could hear in the parlor being the soft music that played in the background and the constant buzzing of the tattoo gun. The tattoo was slowly taking form on that space on your back, the giant spiderweb with the number 4 in the middle.

She brushed over the areas where the needle had gone in every few seconds, wiping up the blood that came up after.

“This one bleeds a lot,” she grumbled.

“Oh? You aren't feeling nauseous at the sight of a little blood, are you?” Hisoka asked.

She glared at him, probably for breaking his agreement of keeping quiet.

“It can affect the end product if someone bleeds too much and I can't see the stencil because of it.”

“Aren't you a professional?” Hisoka shot back.

“I'm not saying I can't do it,” she snapped back, “it's just annoying.”

“Of course,” he answered, chuckling a little.

The woman chose to ignore him, turning her attention back to you and the design she was etching onto your back. Nothing more was said after that, and you found yourself focusing on the feeling of Hisoka's hand on yours. The callouses on his fingers, the edges of his slightly too-sharp nails that could cut through your skin if he really wanted to, and how his thumb continued to brush over your knuckles. Just that was enough to keep you calm in this situation.

“You need a break?” the woman asked you after a while.

“I'm fine,” you answered.

“Okay. Well, I need one, so let's take five,” she said, putting down the gun, “if you need the restroom, it's out the door and to the right.”

She left the room without so much as a word to Hisoka, who let go of your hand as he stood up and stretched his legs.

“There's a snack machine outside; should I get you something?” he asked you.

“I really don't want to eat anything from this place,” you said.

“Not even something sweet? Might be good for you, lift up your spirits a bit,” he said, rubbing the top of your head.

“I think you deserve a treat.”

You batted his arm away.

“I'm not a goddamn dog,” you grumbled.

He didn't react to the way you pushed his hand off of you other than to laugh a bit. He then turned away and left the room while you laid your head back down. It had been at least a couple of hours, and you hoped there wouldn't be too much left to finish with the tattoo. Too bad it was on your back and you couldn't get a good look at it to determine how far it was from being finished.

The woman came back in just as Hisoka did, the latter of which was holding a small bag of hard candies. They both sat back down, the woman looking over you and seeing that you hadn't moved at all.

“You sure you don't need a break?” she asked.

“I just want this stupid thing over with,” you answered.

You couldn't see it, but you sensed the way her eyebrows raised at your tone and how she looked over to Hisoka. The clown didn't say anything, instead ripping open the candy packaging with one of those sharp nails and popping a few of the sweets into his mouth.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, she seemed to shrug her shoulders and picked the gun back up to continue with her work.

“Didn't think you were so lenient, Hisoka,” she said after a moment, “the previous number four wouldn't have let his partner speak like that.”

Hisoka actually scoffed at that.

“Like I care.”

The woman didn't say anything to that and continued with the inking process. But now your curiosity was piqued, and you tentatively asked her “the other number four had this done, too?”

“Yeah. Can't quite remember what they looked like now, but he was one of the first to get his partner tattooed.”

“What happened to them after he died?” you asked.

“You mean after he-” she glanced to Hisoka- “killed him? Nobody checked up on them and they starved to death.”

You felt your blood chill at that. There were lots of painful ways to die, but starving to death would be such a long, drawn-out process; to just slowly wither away as you grew weaker and weaker as your stomach caved into itself and you lost so much strength you would no longer be able to move. Whatever fate had in store for you for when you died, you hoped it wouldn't be something like that.

Whoever that poor bastard had been, you hoped they didn't suffer for too long.

“Guess I'm not surprised you couldn't be bothered to let them out after you started with the troupe,” she said to Hisoka.

He shrugged.

“I didn't even know they existed until after they were dead. No one told me about this arrangement. Blame the other members who actually knew about the situation before you blame me.”

“You were the one to kill him,” she pointed out.

“If he wanted to keep his place he should have been stronger,” he said, placing another piece of candy into his mouth, “if it mattered that much to you then why didn't you let them out?”

“I'm not paid for that.”

“Ah, of course.”

There was silence after that, and another hour passed. Hisoka decided to entertain himself by slipping pieces of the hard candies past your lips one at a time, his sharp fingernails scratching your lips. You ended up slapping his hand away after a certain point, much to the mild astonishment of the tattoo artist.

“Still can't believe you of all people would allow that,” she said, “other members of the troupe would have been raging.”

“I don't like things that are broken,” Hisoka answered, running a hand through your hair.

“Pets are much more fun when they have a bit of bite.”

She couldn't see the way you glared at him for that comment.

The completion of the tattoo couldn't come fast enough, and it was of great relief to you when she finally pulled back and announced that she was done. She was saying something to Hisoka about how to take care of it to avoid infection, but you didn't pay it much mind, instead grabbing your shirt that Hisoka held out to you and pulling it over your head.

You paused ever so briefly during that, as you felt the sensation of something dripping down your back. You were quick to pull the shirt down the rest of the way, glancing back and finding some relief that she wasn't looking at you.

After receiving payment from Hisoka, you were both practically shooed out of the parlor. Despite her overall calm demeanor, she seemed to have little tolerance for handling Hisoka in large doses and wanted the clown out as soon as possible. It wouldn't have surprised you if he had decided to try and linger a little longer just to see if he could goad more reactions out of her, but he seemed to be just as eager as you were to leave.

The walk back to the hotel you were staying at was done in silence. That uncomfortable sensation was still there, running down your back and making you cringe as you felt like something was collecting above your waist.

The second the door of your hotel room was locked shut, you pulled your shirt off and exposed your back to Hisoka.

“Take it off,” you said.

“Don't you want to see how it looks first?”

“Hisoka, the blood packet is leaking. I can feel it pooling up at the bottom,” you hastily explained, “I want this stupid thing off of me.”

“If you insist,” Hisoka answered.

He reached forward, his nails catching on a particular spot just below your neck, and like peeling off a band-aid, Hisoka peeled off the sheet of texture surprise that he had placed over your back, the thin packet of fake blood he had hidden beneath the fake skin falling to the floor as he did so.

Just as you had said, there had been liquid pooling up at the bottom of the sheet, and when it was pulled away, some of the blood fell both onto the floor and your pants.

“Shit-!”

You immediately went to the bathroom, throwing your shirt to the side as you grabbed a towel off the rack and held it under the faucet. There was a coating of red covering your back, as expected, and you went about trying to clean the liquid off. Unfortunately, it seemed like your pants were permanently ruined. But you preferred that over that woman potentially discovering your ruse.

You managed to wipe the blood off, but you definitely needed a shower. Before doing that, however, you stuck your head out of the bathroom door to see Hisoka sitting on the bed, shuffling through cards as usual.

“I'm going to take a shower,” you told him.

“Just a moment,” he said, setting the cards aside and motioning for you to come closer.

With a sigh, you went to him, climbing onto the bed and allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You glanced at the side table, noting the sheet of nen that had been on your back for the past few hours sitting there. It didn't look like your skin anymore and was back in its normal form of a white sheet, though the ink that had been used was now embedded into it. The tattoo was larger than you had anticipated, and you were grateful you didn't actually need to have that thing permanently inked into your back.

“You'll be able to recreate that whenever you need to?” you asked.

“I do it all the time with mine, don't I?”

“Mm. Although I really have to question if that's going to be necessary. Are you expecting members of the troupe to just randomly lift up my shirt to make sure it's actually there?”

“You wouldn't want to risk a situation where it would be discovered that it wasn't there, now would you,” Hisoka replied.

“Fair enough,” you said with a shrug, “I guess I should just be grateful we went to all this trouble and you didn't just let them put that on me.”

“And allow the troupe to make a permanent mark on what belongs to me? Hardly. If I went so far as to mark you, I'd want my own brand,” he said.

“I don't know if I want that; you'd probably pick something stupid.”

He pouted at you.

“You're always so mean to me whenever we're alone; makes me feel like you don't actually like me.”

“I seem to recall something about pets with bite?”

Hisoka smirked, conceding as he nodded at you. Then, in a move that was somewhat atypical of him, he pulled you in closer until you were resting against his chest. You didn't question it or protest; there was that stupid part of you that genuinely liked the clown, after all.

The oddly quiet moment allowed your mind to wander, and your thoughts went back to what that woman had said about the original number four and his partner and the absolutely miserable way in which that partner had died. You didn't need to fear that same exact death; you were free to go where you liked, so being locked up with no food wouldn't be an issue if Hisoka unexpectedly died. At most you'd get kicked out of that room he had in Heaven's Arena, but that wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen.

The worst thing would be if Hisoka messed up and the troupe came after you because of it.

“You get so quiet whenever you're around the troupe. I think most of them would be shocked if they knew how you usually are,” Hisoka whispered.

It was true. You virtually clung to Hisoka whenever you were forced to meet up with the troupe. He always seemed to enjoy it, and not many of them bothered coming up to you. It was that part of you that worried you would somehow ruin his plans. Somehow, you would manage to let slip something you shouldn't and the truth would be revealed. Better to keep your mouth shut to avoid that scenario entirely and try to blend in with the rest of the significant others with their miserable expressions and occasional broken bones.

“When do you think you'll be able to fight Chrollo?” you asked.

“It's impossible to say. His movements are a mystery to everyone, so I need to wait for an opportunity to present itself.”

He ran those fingernails through your hair.

“So lets keep playing nice until then,” he told you.

“Mm.”

Play along until Hisoka got what he wanted, wait a few months after, and then he'd move on to a new obsession, a new opponent he wanted to fight. It was honestly a pretty miserable situation to be in, and yet you willingly stayed. Although if you did try to leave, you weren't so sure he would let you go so easily.

Hisoka wasn't a good person. And there was definitely something wrong with you for you to stay with him, even as he dragged you into dangerous situations that you'd never be able to survive without his help.

But one Hisoka running amok was better than the other twelve being allowed to continue as they were. At least there would be less people dying.

And still that question simmered in your mind: what would the troupe do to you if they found out Hisoka's true intentions?

You pulled away and he looked back down at you.

“Can I get my shower already?”

#hxh hisoka #reader insert #hisoka x reader #Hisoka #hisoka morow #hxh x reader

441 notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 3 years

Text

Razor (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

@bleachlemon

I'm glad you are ok with it because oh boy do I have some very very n a s t y noncon-y thoughts about our wolfboi. We love a dense boy, not a single thought in his empty, horny lil brain. Head empty, just horny for y/n.

I also have the big horny™ for any cross between boys and canines... Does smth for me. As if my favoritism wasn't obvious by how much I've written below lmao

tw: general yandere content, violence, mentions of n/sfw

tw below cut: breeding, heavy noncon, like jfc this is nasty, misogynistic

----

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The biggest issue with Razor is his complete and total lack of restraint. He sees no need for it, he has no real concept of social norms. Wolves don't really practice restraint on... anything. When they see something they want to kill, they kill it, when they see something they want to have, they have it, when they're mad, they attack, when they're hungry, they eat.

So in a way, he's perfectly lucid, but doesn't act as a normal lucid person who understands social norms would do. He knows that you give him some burning, fluttery feeling, and that he enjoys having you around, and that he gets sad when you have to leave. He's perceptive enough to know it's the same urge that drives humans to form their long-term mate partnerships. If that's what they refer to as "love," he'll readily adopt that term as a way to describe what he feels. What he doesn't get is everything between point A and point Z. No point in all the "courtship" and "marriage" and other human customs -- he doesn't need to "date" to know you're the one, and he doesn't need some signed paper to signify he loves you. In his mind, it's perfectly logical to expect you to immediately come live out in Wolvendom with him. You did accept all his courtship signs, after all.

Wolves are very straightforward with it, you see. Their courtship includes going for walks side-by-side, close to each other, which you did when you let him guide you through the woods. Wolves will rest their head or legs on the other, and you let him rest his head on your shoulder (even if you flinched with surprise when he did, uncomfortable but too nice to say anything). He even when to the extent of engaging in human mating rituals -- you accepted all those gifts he hunted down, and you smiled when he said nice things about how pretty you are, how nice you smell.

So in other words, you've basically already accepted him as a mate. That's what he's perceived, and changing his initial perceptions is not easily accomplished.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

One of the most likely, and definitely the fastest. Possibly after meeting you a single time. He can't take the risk of you not coming back.

He won't be very subtle or sneaky about it either, not tricking you into walking right into captivity, nor drugging you or taking you in your sleep. It's very straightforward - it's not like there's anyone in Wolvendom to hear you, so he has no problem just slinging you over his shoulder and carrying you off. He kinda gets why you'd panic, so he reassures you that no, he's not gonna eat you or anything, you're just going home.

Don't worry about the pack - they won't eat you either, or even hurt you. He's already told them not to. He gets why you might be frightened by the massive, snarling creatures and their massive teeth and eyes that shine in moonlight, but he'll make sure you get used to them and accept them as your family, just like he has.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

That depends. Can you fight off two 180-pound masses of claws, teeth, and muscle? If so, sure, it'll be easy. If not... you'll have some issues.

He's lucky to have such a loyal pack that will help him with these things - they don't exactly understand why you'd want to leave, but they know you're not supposed to. Even when he has to leave you, which isn't often, he'll leave a few of them around to watch you. To make sure no one comes and steals you or anything - and of course, the implication that it's to make sure you don't run away, either. He doesn't really get why you would, but he's come to the realization, based on what you've tried to tell him, that you miss your family and friends. And he gets that, he really does, but in the end, he's selfish at his core, and his empathy for you isn't enough for him to just let you go.

He sleeps latched onto you, arms wrapped around you, so it's not a good idea to try. Your best bet is to wait for a time he's gone and distract the wolves with something, which isn't too hard, and run for it. But even if you do manage to escape, you won't be for long. They can smell you from a mile away and will use your scent to pinpoint you down within a few minutes. They don't exactly have any gentle ways of taking you down and bringing you back, either. They're basically going to have to use their teeth, so it's better if you don't struggle - you'll just hurt yourself.

If he catches you, though, he'll just get huffy and angry, and much like when initially taking you, he'll just pick you right up and bring you back. He's not opposed to stealing ropes and the like from the passing knights, and tying knots isn't too difficult to figure out.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Poor boy is very easy to lie to and manipulate. Head empty, not many thoughts up there. However, you'll have to be clever about it, because most of the time, even if he believes you, he doesn't care. Sure, you can easily convince him that it's normal for human couples to sleep separately... But that's not going to stop him from curling up with you, because that's what he does. That's what wolves do.

He will, however, be somewhat easily manipulated into getting you things you want, if he thinks it'll make you happy. However, obtaining things you want will almost definitely come in the form of theft, or worst case scenario, the body of a passer-by that just so happened to have something you wanted visibly on their person.

If he finds out you lied to him on something, he'll get pouty and grumpy. It's not pleasant, but it's better than the rage reaction of some yanderes.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

His life revolves around you, and yours should revolve around him. That's how mates are. You can go for walks in the woods! You can take naps in the sun together! You can spend literal hours mating! Why would you need anything else?

That being said, he's always had a uniqueness from the wolves in that he's awake more - wolves sleep about 14 hours a day, him only about 8 or 9. You'll definitely be getting a lot more sleep than you would back home, but you'll have a few precious hours to yourselves. It makes him happy - it used to be time he spent all alone, a reminder of how he didn't truly fit in with humans nor wolves. But now, you have that time together! He's willing to do most anything you want, so long as you're together. He's always had some adaptative differences he practices by himself - making fires, cooking food on them, wearing clothes. If you want to go exploring, you can do that, if you want to make food, you can do that too. He'll even accommodate you if you want to do useless things, like your insistence on teaching him to read, or practicing his speech.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

It's fairly simple. Don't leave. That's really the one big one.

He's actually not one to make a rule against fighting him - he'll see it as you wanting to play fight, wrestling, which wolves do all the time. It's fun, even if it's easy for him to win. And it's exciting when you fight back, in a weird way.

Don't make contact with other humans, if you see them. Oh, and he'll want you to report to him everything you did or saw while he was gone hunting.

Generally, if he gives you a command, which isn't too much, he expects you to follow it. In his mind, he's the male, he's supposed to tell you what to do. Isn't that how it usually works with humans too?

If you're too disobedient, he'll get grumpy. Honestly, his most likely form of dealing with it is to wrestle you to the ground, and essentially hold you down until you comply or agree to whatever he wants.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Rip.

But seriously. No, they're not going to last. He's one of the more paranoid ones, because deep down he's aware of how little he understands. For all he knows, every human male that talks to you could be doing what you call "flirting." Hell, didn't some girls like other girls too? How does he know which ones do and which ones don't? That means everyone is a threat, and he can't let threats get in the way.

He's not one of the ones to be subtle or try to hide it from you. He will probably try a little bit if he knows it's one of your family or friends whose blood is soaking his clothes when he comes back to you, but if it's random, he might even be proud. Look at that, he took down a whole search party that came looking for you all by himself! It's proof of his strength and dominance, and you should be happy that you have a strong mate to protect you! And he doesn't really empathize well - if you're upset, he will explain exactly that to you, and insist you change how you see things. Humans are so strange, being upset that your mate is able to protect you. You'll see why it's a good thing eventually, he's sure.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He gets frustrated pretty easily. It's usually just a lack of understanding, in his mind, you're being unnecessarily difficult almost all the time. He has told you a million times he doesn't care about whatever is normal for humans, yet you continuously bring it up, and that's a bit irritating. He'll huff and sigh and clamp a hand over your mouth if you're going on about it, and if you really refuse to shut up about it, there are a variety of ways of making you quiet - or distracting you from complaints.

He's got an immature streak, as he never really had anyone around to teach him otherwise. So he gets very pouty, a little bit aggressive and forceful when it comes to being upset over something or getting his way. If he wants attention and you're not giving it to him, he won't hesitate to just take whatever you're holding and focused on of your hands and toss it to the side.

On the positive side, he's never going to be passive aggressive. He's always straightforward and has no hesitation to tell you exactly how he's feeling.

If he's genuinely, truly furious, he can get violent. He'll probably apologize and definitely feel bad, licking all the little wounds. He wouldn't try to do anything so bad as bone breaking or severely hurting you, but might accidentally lose control of his own strength.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

More or less an equal. Not much to say here, as, to be honest, that sort of thing hasn't really crossed his mind. He doesn't waste time with thoughts of relative value, he just knows he loves you and wants you.

Subconsciously, it would be slightly below. Due to a very natural upbringing, he automatically associates males as being the leaders and alphas, while females are... Well, puppy-making machines. Don't try to accuse him of any sort of sexism or anything - he can't even really wrap his head around the concept, much less understand why it's wrong to acknowledge how much weaker you are than him. If you need proof of that, he can easily wrestle with you and prove it.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Pretty highly determined. He mistakes a lot of things as signs of love, though. You might be only complying out of fear or exhaustion, but he won't be able to tell, he's not good with facial expressions, so he thinks it's a sign you're accepting him.

Honestly, he's one of the ones that, albeit unintentionally, will kind of guilt you into acceptance. You inevitably feel bad for him, you can tell how lonely he really is, and how desperately he loves you, wants you to love him. His intentions aren't malicious, and it's actually difficult to truly resent him, unlike some yanderes. Ironically, it reaches a point where rejecting him sometimes really does feel like kicking a sad little stray puppy in the rain - it makes you feel awful when he gets sad and quiet.

While there are a lot of yanderes who would be a lot more earnest and striving to serve and please you, which he doesn't really do, he's probably one of the most patient yanderes when it comes to this. He doesn't care if it takes the rest of your lives. He'll never give up or just settle for having you with him, he'll be loving you and trying to be reassured of your love till the day he dies, if that's what it takes.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Primarily, it's hard to emphasize how significantly his lack of human socialization impacts his yandere behaviors.

Most yanderes are forced to acknowledge the inherent wrongness of their actions - some will accept it and not care that it's wrong, some sadists enjoy knowing it's wrong, some will delude themselves into justifying it, some will try their best to act within moral boundaries or make up for their wrongness somehow. But all in all, they all have to face the reality of the situation and understand that what they're doing is considered wrong.

Razor's not like that. He doesn't really take the moral aspect into consideration. To him, the whole idea is simply a human thing entirely. It doesn't matter what humans do. He views the world in a very black and white sense. Morality is a more abstract concept, what's more important is how things are relative to himself - what he wants.

Tends to communicate in strange ways. Excess emotions, too much happiness or anger or whatever can make him forget his words, so there's a lot of subtle communication through grunts, whimpers, growls. Over time, you learn how to distinguish between the various noises and body language and what they mean.

Will lick you. It's weird. It's kinda gross. But it's just how he shows affection. He tends to get carried away with kisses, ending up lapping at your lips, licking your neck and collarbones, nuzzling his head into you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Scientifically speaking, male sex drive is heavily boosted by testosterone. Testosterone can be greatly increased by heavy physical activity, eating high amounts of meat, sun exposure, and is even directly correlated to spending large amounts of time outdoors.

You see where this is going.

Very high drive, very touchy, and no reservations, no shame. Thank whatever deity you care to recognize in Tevyat that you're isolated from other people out in the woods, because he has no concept of norms or appropriateness, and trying to get him to understand is a fruitless effort. You're wasting your time trying to explain the idea that groping and touching out of the blue is considered rude, or that most human men take issue with being very visibly, very noticeably hard and would likely try to conceal it, not just sit there with the blatant bulge poking forward... His response will only be that you're far away from humans, so it shouldn't matter. He's just trying to show you he loves you, that's why he insists on grinding into you all the time, staring at your body, humping you when you're curled up together quite ironically like a horny dog.

Unfortunately, he basically just does not know how to be gentle or slow about it. He can start off trying to be slow and soft if you beg for it, but once you're actually laying there and he's in you, he gets caught up in instinct and the heat of the moment, and just kinda... forgets about that whole "slow and gentle" thing, opting to just rut you as hard and fast as possible.

He doesn't talk much during sex. He already has some trouble forming sentences in normal times, you can't expect him to when he's fucking. You won't get a lot of words besides the occasional, "good, feels good," or little commands, but you will get a lot of animalistic noises - possessive growls, little whines of pleasure. He doesn't have any sense to hold back on his noises.

He's also the least likely to care about things like shaving, periods, or imperfections. Which is good, but you also can't use those things as an excuse to not fuck, it'll go in one ear and out the other.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

It's not so much an intentional disregard for your willingness, so much as a combo of not really considering it, and thinking it's just something you'll change on. If he's human, and he has the urge, that means surely you do too. Sometimes humans need emotional connections before they want to mate, right? So he just needs to express his love to you. The looping problem there is that fucking you is pretty much his primary way of expressing love. It'll work out in the end, he guesses.

His limited knowledge of humanity also will lead him to certain conclusions. From what he understands, human society often shames females for having sex and wanting sex, right? That's dumb. But their mentality is probably ingrained in your brain, isn't it? That's why you act like this. But don't worry, he's not like the human men. Wolves don't feel that way. You'll understand that with time.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Biting/Scratching/Marking

It's a natural reaction to him. If he's balls deep in you, mounted on and pounding into your body, thrusting so hard that your body is lurching forward with every movement, he wants a way to hold you still, keep your body in place so that each pounding goes deeper and harder. It's second nature for him to just sink his teeth into your jugular, your neck, your shoulders. As an added bonus, he likes seeing the marks it leaves behind, in addition to how his fingernails that dig into your hips leave little indents in your skin.

Breeding

He doesn't know how to not cum in you. You can't honestly expect him to pull out of you, you're so warm and wet and soft, it would be torture not to reach a climax buried inside that tight heat. You can go on a rant about not wanting to get pregnant, but it'll go in one ear and out the other. He doesn't get it - you're supposed to want to have his pups. Do you not think he's a suitable mate for reproducing? You'll be halfway through explaining why kids aren't in your current agenda before being flipped over and pounded into yet again with his newfound determination to prove his strength and dominance to you. Once you understand that, surely, you'll want all the puppies you can possibly make.

Predator/Prey

This applies mostly to escape attempts. He'll be mad, but it triggers something in him, something instilled by years of hunting down poor little prey animals. The desire to hunt you down, find you, and ruin you. Instead of ripping you apart like he would boars, he can't think of anything but just fucking you up against the nearest tree, the ground, anything. The faster you run, the more afraid you are, the more exciting it is. It's a very primal urge, one that commands all sorts of predators, both in feeding and breeding.

Forced Orgasms

As with many human things, he makes certain discoveries with time about sex. The first time you fuck, it'll probably be too rough for you to really cum, but it'll only be a few days in before your body adjusts to the girth that's frequently inside of you, and you end up spasming all over him - and he's just got this shocked expression, watching with amazement when you clench down and quiver under him. Wait, you mean human females can orgasm too? Not just the men?

From that point forward, he's determined to fuck, lick, grind, and force every orgasm out of you as physically possible. It makes him feel a weird sort of pride and contentment. It's one of the few things that makes him a big smug. Even if you feel like you can't possibly cum any more, he'll try anyway.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

It's your purpose! He has learned that human girls only have one baby at a time, sometimes two, which is nothing compared to how many pups wolves usually have in one litter. That means that you'll have to make up for the lack of quantity of pups with quantity of pregnancies, which means constantly breeding and breeding and making sure every last drop stays inside of you. He doesn't understand why humans would even want to prevent pregnancy, it's the best thing that can happen, it's the whole reason you're alive, and it's a sign that you're his. Like with most things, he knows eventually you'll come around. Once you actually have the pups there in front of you, you'll love it. He knows you will.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He's a little lacking on the thought process behind punishing. If he's mad, it tends to cloud his thoughts, reverting to a more animalistic state, and he's not gonna have the complex thoughts required to really think through punishment, so it's not gonna be anything complex.

Doesn't really matter, if he's mad, just fucking you is going to feel like a punishment, with him slamming you into the ground, a tree, any rough surface nearby and just rutting you, claw-like fingernails digging into your skin and teeth sinking into your shoulder to hold you in place, a hand clasped around your throat. Fucking is basically the primary outlet he chooses for his emotions, happiness, love, stress, and anger alike, a simple, primal form of expression. If he's mad, he just needs to take it out on something, release all of that force and energy into rough, brutal motions. Normally when he's angry, he'll go hunt down some animal, taking all that anger out on the kill. But, recently he's learned he actually quite prefers to release his anger this way. It's more satisfying and enjoyable, and it deters you from stepping out of line, too. It's not just your average slightly rough fucking, no, it's the kind of fucking that will genuinely hurt you, rutting you over and over until your insides are burning from friction, your walls and cervix so completely bruised and abused you'll feel the throbbing soreness with every movement for days, hands leaving massive bruises all across your hips and shoulders. Not that that's any excuse to not fuck more, no, no soreness will get you out of normal daily routine.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He has a thing for breasts. They're very unique to humans, it's something he hasn't had the opportunity to see or understand, and he'll spend a lot of time just burying his face in them, licking and sucking. Big or small, doesn't matter. He just likes them.

One more nasty HC i can't not talk about

wait, you mean humans have sex... Facing each other? There are positions other than doggy? It's all he's ever seen. Porn and the internet don't exactly exist in this world. The whole concept blows his mind. He can fuck you AND see your face while he does? He'll nearly faint right then and there, and you'll regret bringing it up once you've gone numb from the repetitive pounding. He'll start asking you what else exists out there, his brain will start thinking of all the different ways to fuck he's never thought about. Once he learns you can ride him, he's in heaven, even if it's not so much riding so much as you sitting on his cock and him bouncing you up and down with such ferocity you can't even move your legs.

Speaking of things he doesn't know about, if you're smart, you make sure he doesn't find out about blowjobs. He'll love it, and it won't be a blowjob so much as him literally fucking your throat, grabbing your head and hair and just wrecking your mouth.

None of it is him trying to hurt you, really. He just doesn't understand how to be gentle. He might get better with time, but he's got a predator-born ferocity, a primal roughness that will always be a part of his nature.

(yes i did research on wolf courtship/mating rituals for this bc i suffer for my art)

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere razor #tw: noncon #tw: dark content #yandere profile #tw: misogyny

720 notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 3 years

Text

This one wanted to be kept anonymous and what is asked shall be done.

Request: Can you please do Prompt 72 for Claude Faustus?

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, overprotectiveness, kidnapping, sabotage, manipulation, teasing

Prompt 72: “Do you want your underwear back?”

You hated approaching that man, you hated being with him, no matter how hard he might try to change your mind. Being stuck with someone who wasn't even a human was really everything, but pleasant. Being completely isolated in a cottage you weren't allowed to leave was unpleasant. And the trues cherry on top of everything was his personality, rge unbelievable confidence he seemed to have in himself that he would get you to love him and all the teasing and provoking just to get his sadistic fun out of it.

His methods were rather simple, but smart and effective nevertheless. Whenever you were ignoring him, he did something to leave you with no choice but to seek for him. As much as you hated admitting it, he was the one who took care of you, meaning that without him you wouldn't be provided with the basic needs a human needed daily for living. Because you knew from previous experiences that as much as he chose to be lenient, Claude got quickly annoyed and was ready to punish you when you made him snap which didn't end always well. It wasn't like he hurt you physically, but he very much always showed you that he was the one in power and the one you would have to rely on for everything. Clearing this up hurt your pride more than anything else and you just knew that he wanted to embarrass you by having you admitting it.

Making you come to him, having you pleading him to help you had to be the most shameful for you to do, having to do what he wanted just so you would also get what you wanted. It wasn't good for your own self-esteem and knowing Claude, he did everything on purpose so this would happen. Your guess was to feed his ego a bit by knowing that you had to come to him when you needed help.

He probably intended to push you into developing Stockholm syndrome and forcing you to think that he was all you needed, you had figured out that his kind seemed to be more possessive over persons they had chosen as their "mates".

If you remembered right one of your friends had once told you that it was her dark fantasy to have someone going after her who would be ready to kill for her, everyone seemed to like this thought of having someone loving them who would do anything for the person of desire. And back then you might have even wanted the same, but now you could have beaten your ounger self up for thinking about this. People only knew better after having witnessed certain things, same counting for you. You were alone, helpless, left at the mercy of your captor.

You were in no condition to look in those golden eyes, not wanting to see the same amused and pleased look from all of this. No, absolutely not. But even without looking up, you felt those eyes sliding over your body, causing goosebumps to start coverin your whole body and your face to burn up, knowing what would await you in your nearest future.

It was all his fault, he had done it once again on purpose, you knew it had to be true. Why else would his eyes linger a bit longer on the place between your legs that currently was at it's most vulnerable, unprotected which added a new kind of shame to all of this? He must have done it, there was no other explanation.

"You seem to feel tonight a bit more bold than usual, don't you think so?", he asked, the slight amusement in his voice all too audible which had you boiling even more. How much you would have died to just smash him in his face to feel satisfaction. But it would only be for a few seconds before you might agitate Claude and making him angry was not a good idea, not in the least bit. Especially now that you were left so exposed.

"Claude...Where is my underwear?", you pressed out, eyes still trained on the wooden floor under your feet, not a single scratch or trace of dust on it. That you had to give Claude, he made sure that the house always stayed in top shape. What had he said once before? A pretty house for his pretty made? Something in that direction.

Black and polished shoes entered your vision, the sudden closeness causing your skin to crawl and make you stumble frightened a few feet back, not having sensed his fast approach. A short huff of air was heard from him, sounding like he was a bit annoyed and yet entertained by this small act of yours, making you bite angrily your tongue. Making yourself look like a fool wasn't what you planned on doing whilst being with him. It gave him only more stuff to irritate you with.

"(y/n)...I thought we already talked about this. You have to look someone in the eyes when you want something from them. Otherwise I'm afraid I won't be able to help you and you know I will gladly do anything for you if you would just let me. If you just wouldn't be that incorrigible."

Ah yes, that shit again. Your manners and the tantrums you sometimes threw about the situations you were stuck in, the disapproving looks from Claude whenever you acted out of the place, the constant lecturing that came afterwards. He really came in such scenarios over as a butler who wanted to make sure that others were behaving like they should be and scolding them if they didn't. It put you always down whenever he pointed those things out, you knew you weren't perfect and him rubbing it constantly under your nose wasn't helpful. It led you to such moments where you just felt like you were under average, reaching your lower points.

It was no reason to give up nor was it an excuse to stop fighting, especially since the butler planned on making you feel that way, to slowly break you. Still, he was currently the only person you were able to see, meaning there was no one to cheer you up, no one to tell you otherwise. You were all on your own with the only source of comfort being the golden-eyed man. And there were those times where you questioned if giving up your pride was the better and less painful option and indeed just giving in would make your life easier. The moments where you became all too aware of the one and only fact. That a human wouldn't be able to beat a demon, at least not a human like you.

This was one of those moments where you felt like a fly trapped in the web of the spider and where the only option was pleading and hoping he would choose to be lenient with you. "Just standing there and not saying anything won't help you nor can I help you when you are like this. If you don't have anything to say, please go back to bed. It's pretty late and I have to leave tomorrow morning early to work in the manor of my master."

He didn't sound happy whilst saying it, you knew that he didn't really like how his master was constantly bossing him around and on some days he complained for a few seconds about what a brat that boy really was, even more when because of him Claude had to be kept busy which meant leaving you longer alone.

You were stuck in denial, not thinking it would be good to do as he said. Not letting having it the way he wanted it to go was important for your own sanity, to prevent you from getting caught in his trap and grow over time too dependent on him. But you also could estimate what would happen afterwards. He would take something else from you away to push you into having to ask him once again and he would continue this for as long as he had the patience. That meant for you more and more embarrassment and hurt. Was that what you wanted? Or should you just go with the easy option to keep the damage as small as possible and live with this scratch on your pride?

You heard his footsteps slowly fading more and more away from you telling you that he was leaving you in your frozen state behind. Why wouldn't he? He had the time and the power to do so. Claude knew that the one way or another you would have to come to him and it was what allowed him to have confidence. This luxury was sadly only open for him whilst you were only allowed to live a good life for as long as he was pleased with how you acted. It was cruelly unfair, but you knew that this was how life was. The one in power and the one at the bottom.

"Wait.", you called faintly after him, making him stop, golden eyes being met with yours, the look in them being comparible with being tired and done with something. You looked leached out, your pride already having taking so many blows before and every time it became harder to fix the damage and pain he put you through like this. Maybe there would come a time where you would have to give up indeed, you doubted that anyone would be able to stay strong whilst suffering from this. But maybe you were wrong and there were people out there who would be able to stand their ground. And maybe you just weren't this person.

"Claude...My underwear.", you slowly muttered out, forcing your gaze to not waver too much and stay on him, knowing you would have to repeat it again if you would look away. And that would mean more poison for you to swallow.

"Do you want your underwear back?", he asked with a silk-like voice, smoothly walking with a few huge steps over to you to take a better look at your current state. How wonderful, he felt extremely satisfied in that one moment. You were slowly being stripped off your stubborness to accept him, instead starting to to him when you needed something. Just two months ago you wouldn't have even thought in your wildest dreams to ask him for help. It just told him that you were slowly breaking, were getting exhausted from all of this.

"Yes. Please.", you said in a more quiet voice, now that he was being so close to you again you felt your gaze shifting somewhere completely else, still not being able to shake the drilling look of him off. Hopefully he wouldn't force you to ask him once again.

"See? This wasn't as hard after all wasn't it?" His voice was laced with a certain sweetness in it, leaving you with a bitter stinging in your heart. That was not true at all. You had just now sacrificed a part of your own confidence. Not like he would care. And not like you would tell him that. You didn't feel in the mood to do so and now it would be dangerous to do so, whilst you felt so incredibly small and helpless. It would be too easy for him to get in your head.

Instead of answering you let out a noise akin to a gentle hum, making yourself a bit smaller, feeling a bit intimidated by the way he was towering over you. Claude seemed to take notice of this and to your surprise he was suddenly kneeling in front of you, although you had almost bet he would push your buttons a bit more right now. But maybe he didn't feel in the mood to be that way, not after you had for the first time ever finally broken a bit in front of him.

With his own face suddenly so close to his, you had no other place to avoid those golden eyes, scanning slowly over your embarrassed and ashamed expression. "You don't have to be scared of me. You know that I wouldn't hurt you. I'm not lowlife like other creatures you might have met."

"Then why do you do this to me?", you stuttered out, by now feeling your eyes tearing up. "Because I only want the best for you. I know how to treat you good, better than anyone else. And all I try to do is helping you to realize this. It would make life easier for you too. I just want you to trust me."

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere claude #yandere claude faustus

140 notes · View notes

adam-banks2024 · 3 years

Text

Deja Vu

Part 1

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly

He’s insufferable

He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.

He is insufferable.

And I have to deal with him.

Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago.

I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.

Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.

When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.

“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.

To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness.

I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.

Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say.

“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?

He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”

I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.

“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.”

Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.

My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”

He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”

“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work

Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”

I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”

Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.

“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.

He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--”

“That I’m not good enough…”

He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.

“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”

I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.”

He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up.

Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.

“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.

The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.

It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?

“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”

I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.

He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”

I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”

He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face.

I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path.

“What do I get out of it?”

The audacity.

“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”

So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”

He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“Watch it.” His voice was stern.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”

Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”

#the mighty ducks #the mighty ducks imagine #the mighty ducks x reader #mighty ducks #mighty ducks imagine #mighty ducks x reader #adam banks #adam banks imagine #adam banks x reader

165 notes · View notes

paperbodiesamongthestars · 3 years

Text

Day 22: Yellow

John Harrington stood in the foyer of his house in Loch Nora, brow furrowed. It was the first time in his life that he had come home to find the house looking so...occupied. And sure, he and Irene hadn’t mentioned that they were coming back to Hawkins because it had been so last minute, but even so, Steve usually did a better job keeping it looking tidy. He was expected to do a better job.

John moved further into the house, noting new details. Steve’s sneakers were in the front hallway, alongside a pair of heavy boots, and every hook on the coat rack was filled. John saw two leather jackets that he was sure didn’t belong to Steve and a denim jacket covered in patches that he also didn’t recognize. The coffee table in the living room was covered in books and papers, and there was a stack of dirty plates in the sink. John set his bags down and glanced over at Irene, but she seemed as bemused as he was.

The basement door stood open, and they followed a heavy clank of metal on metal down the stairs. John stopped dead at the bottom, taking in the scene. All the furniture in the room was pushed up against the walls to create an open space in the center, where Steve was on his back on a weight bench. He was breathing heavily as he pressed up a bar with what seemed like a significant amount of weight on it. Another boy, blond and built like he knew exactly what he was doing with a set of weights, was spotting him. Steve finished a rep with clear effort and set the bar back on the rack. John glanced over at Irene, who had a little smile on her face. He frowned; she had always been too lenient with their son.

“Ugh,” Steve said, “I thought I would be able to do more reps.” The blond smirked down at him.

“You gotta be patient, pretty boy.” He flexed a bicep and turned to kiss it. “You don’t get results like these overnight.” Steve rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh.

“Steven?” John said, and the effect was immediate. Steve’s head whipped around and he started to quickly sit up. The other boy threw a protective hand between Steve’s forehead and the bar, preventing what probably would have been a painful collision. Steve didn’t take his gaze off of John as he ducked past the bar and sat up. The boy let his hand drop back to his side, but he took a step closer to Steve.

“Mom, Dad,” Steve said, standing up. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“Clearly,” John said, waving a hand at the stairs behind him. Steve flushed a little and his brows drew down. John opened his mouth to demand an explanation, but Irene’s hand was suddenly at his elbow, gently pulling him back toward the stairs. He glowered at her, but her eyes were on Steve and the other boy.

“We’ll need to unpack and freshen up,” she said calmly, glancing at her watch. “Dinner will be served at seven.” She looked back up. “I assume you boys will have no trouble being ready by then?” The two of them exchanged a quick, wordless glance that appeared to contain an entire conversation.

“No problem, Mom,” Steve said. “We can be ready.”

“Lovely,” Irene said with a smile, and then she steered John back upstairs. They picked up their bags in the foyer and John followed Irene to the second floor. He was thinking about the argument he was about to have with his wife about her intervention, but he stopped dead at the door to Steve’s room. His jaw dropped as he pushed the door open wider.

“Are you seeing this?” he demanded. Irene nodded slowly as she took in the room. The plaid wallpaper was gone. Instead, three of the walls were a cool grey color. The fourth wall, opposite Steve’s bed, was a bright, cheerful yellow. “Did you approve this?” John asked Irene, who had that small smile on her face again.

“I would have,” she said, “but he didn’t ask.” John shook his head. “Unbelievable.” Steve was behaving as though the house belonged to him. Whoever the other boy was, he was clearly a bad influence.

“What the hell was that, downstairs?” John demanded of Irene as soon as the door to the master suite closed behind them.

“Exactly what I looked like, I expect,” she said serenely, opening her suitcase and pulling out her toiletry bag.

“You know what I meant. I’m not sure why you intervened. He owes us an explanation,” John said.

“And he can provide one over dinner, if you absolutely insist,” she replied.

“And since when does Steve lift weights?” he demanded, irritated all over again that he had come home to a house that had changed, and a son who hadn’t yet apologized for it.

“Oh, I imagine those came with the boy,” Irene said with that same little smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You better believe that I will be talking to Steven about that situation. His friend seems far too at home in this house. It’s probably his fault everything is in disarray.”

“That’s a bit of an overstatement, don’t you think?” Irene asked absently. She was facing away from him, looking into the vanity mirror as she removed her makeup.

“No, I don’t,” he said stubbornly. “The boy painted his room without consulting us, and the basement is barely usable.”

“I don’t see why that matters. You only ever spend time in your office when we’re here.” There was a pause.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” John finally said.

“Hmm,” was all Irene said in response.

“I don’t see why you included that boy in our dinner plans. Steven should have sent him home as soon as we arrived.” Irene stopped what she was doing and turned to face her husband. Her expression was amused.

“Darling,” she said patiently, and John knew she was growing irritated with him. She hadn’t called him that sincerely in a very long time. “You’re a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. There are three additional coats on the coat rack, and it’s sixty-eight degrees outside, so he didn't wear all of them over here today. Additionally, there isn’t a teenager in the world who brings every single one of his textbooks over for a study date, and most of those books were for classes that Steve isn’t even taking.” John frowned at that. He hadn’t noticed that because he didn’t know what classes Steve was taking. He was a little surprised that Irene did. She continued. “And that weight bench, as we both know, isn’t Steve’s. That boy is living here, and probably has been for a while.” She intentionally did not mention the thick Stephen King book and the pair of reading glasses John obviously hadn’t noticed on the second nightstand in Steve’s room. Horror had never been Steve’s preferred genre, and he didn’t wear glasses.

“Well, I’m putting a stop to it,” John announced. Irene stared at him for a long moment, eyes going a little hard, though her smile stayed in place.

“We’re here for three days,” she said. “How exactly are you planning to control what Steve does after we leave?”

“I’ll threaten to cut him off. That should communicate the seriousness of the situation.” Irene stared for a beat and then turned back around to continue removing her makeup.

“You’ll do no such thing,” she corrected calmly.

“I’ll do as I see fit,” he shot back. She nodded to herself and set down the cloth in her hand. Then she turned around again, standing up to face him.

“Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with?” she asked, voice low. She hadn’t bothered to raise her voice at him in years. “Because you seem to be under the mistaken impression that I’m one of the sycophants you insist on surrounding yourself with.” She took a step toward him. “Here’s what you’re actually going to do. You’re going to unpack and freshen up. You’re going to go do whatever it is you do in your office until it’s time for dinner, and then you’re going to come eat. You’re going to be polite to our son and his friend.” John raised his eyebrows at her.

“I don’t see any reason why I should allow you to dictate my behavior,” he said, his tone condescending. Her answering smile was sharp.

“You actually don’t know, do you?” she murmured, shaking her head. “Steve turned eighteen two months ago. I do hope your assistant remembered to send a gift.” She saw the significance of it land. John swallowed. “Just so that we’re on the same page,” she continued, “if you decide that it is a good idea to berate or threaten our son, who is an adult, or his friend, you will very quickly find yourself in the middle of some probably very contentious divorce proceedings.” John glared at her.

“You wouldn’t,” he said confidently. “Your reputation stands to suffer as much as mine does.”

“I don’t care,” she said bluntly. “It’s been years since I cared what anyone in Hawkins thinks of me. The only thing you had to hold over my head was custody, and now that our son is an adult, your leverage is gone.”

“You cannot—“ he started to say, but she took a step closer and cut him off.

“We have an arrangement," she said, "and it's working. I get the freedom to live as I please most of the time, and you get the image of a perfect family on the rare occasions that you need it. It would be a shame to disrupt it simply because you are incapable of keeping your disapproval to yourself for three days.” John fumed, but he also backed down. He knew defeat when he heard it. He stalked off to the closet to change without further comment, unreasonably annoyed by the way Irene hummed to herself while she sat back down to finish removing her makeup. It wasn’t until later that he realized she had been humming Handel’s “Hail the Conquering Hero.”

An hour later, Irene had freshened up and was on her way down to the kitchen to start dinner. She stopped when she heard Steve’s hushed voice coming from the living room.

“Billy, I’m serious!” Then Steve gasped as if he had just realized something and groaned. “Oh my god, they probably saw my room.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“They should be thanking us for that, baby. The plaid wallpaper was a crime.”

“You don’t understand. My dad is going to—“ Steve stopped. “Hey, B, no,” he said in a softer voice. “Not like that. He’s not…I’m sorry. Come here.” Irene turned around and made her way silently back up the stairs, wanting to give her son and the boy he was obviously dating the time they deserved to finish their conversation. Dinner could wait.

Irene smiled to herself as she thought about how delighted Annette would be to learn that Steve had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who was right about the plaid wallpaper—it had been John’s idea, after he saw it in a magazine somewhere. The yellow was a vast improvement. Maybe the bedroom in her apartment in Paris could use an accent wall, Irene mused. She couldn’t wait to get back there, as soon as their weekend of pretending to be a happily married couple was over.

Your reputation stands to suffer, John had said, and he wasn’t wrong. The people of Hawkins would absolutely frown on her lifestyle, her life in Paris with her beloved Annette. But it certainly looked like that revelation wasn’t going to bother her son at all, and if Steve didn’t mind, Irene truly couldn’t care less if other people did. She smiled to herself again. When John finally figured it out, he was going to be furious, and there wasn't going to be a damn thing he could do about it. She found that thought immensely satisfying.

#Harringrove April Challenge #my writing #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #Steve Harrington's parents #this is mostly fluff?

130 notes · View notes

what-i-call-men · 3 years

Text

Summoned

James Patrick March x GN reader

(I tried to go as gender neutral as possible with this)

Warnings: murder mention, not much otherwise just a bit of fighting then fluff with Mr. murder :)

Requested: by me for my fic thoughts “Another free fic thought for tonight! (Wow two in one night isn’t that much of a surprise) anyways the reader and James are dating, but have an agreement that on Halloween they get to go out and have a party/clubbing or just in general where James wouldn’t go. He summons them in the middle of devils night and they shows up wearing like a club outfit, in the middle of dancing too. They get in a fight over their agreement. Could be angst or smut or whatever”

(Pic is not mine)

You had come into the hotel purely on a whim. You had been searching out a place to stay because your relative you’d come to visit had kicked you out over some stupid disagreement. You’d come to the hotel in hopes of a cheap room with whatever money you had. Luckily enough you were able to get a room for a good enough price. Sadly though, you had been chosen that night by one of the monsters that lived in that hotel to be their victim of the night. Luckily though you were barely awake long enough to retain who it was.

For a few days after, you had walked down to the bar to talk to Liz and another woman you met named Sally, obviously there had been some others in there you’d met but Liz and Sally were the main ones usually at the bar. Although on a few nights you’d see a man come down from the elevator and sit further down the bar. Sometimes he’d be writing or reading something, sometimes he had a blonde woman with him and they’d talk quietly. He never really chose to interact with you so you would shrug it off and talk to Sally about her Instagram instead.

It wasn’t until one night that Sally couldn’t make it that you had instead spent the night with James, quickly hitting it off and soon going back to his room to talk pretty much all night. It wasn’t much long after that you two spent a lot of time together, slowly becoming infatuated with one another. You were murdered during the late 2010s and he was from the 1920s so you obviously had a lot of different outlooks on things.

After a few months of spending most of your time around James, you two became official and months turned into years of being together. About a year into your relationship you’d begun to go to devils night, which was not your choice, you only went for James. But it was the worst night of your life. Now you were fine with James murdering and whatever but his friends were the part you didn’t like. Aileen was really the only okay one in your book.

So you and James settled a deal after you throwing up for about an hour after Jeffery “had his fun”. The deal was that you’d spend the day of his birthday with him, doing whatever he’d like because the two of you could leave the hotel, but at night when he had his dinner party you could go out and celebrate Halloween with Sally and a few others that were more involved in the modern works. It was perfect for the both of you. You were not to disturb him and vice versa.

After a long day of spending James’ birthday walking around town, showing a few different places, but mostly doing some shopping for the two of you, you had gotten ready for your night out. James already had given a few disapproving comments and stares to your skantly clad body. Really you just chalked it up to his jealousy and lack of knowledge of the club scene. “Why don’t you just stay home and drink in the lounge dear? I want to be able to keep an eye on you.” He said as you adjusted your top that left little to the imagination.

“James, dearest, you could always come with us but I think the club scene would kill you again if you weren’t already dead. This outfit is tame compared to other people on Halloween.” You muttered and glanced at yourself in the mirror again. You turned to him, seeing him in his extra formal suit. “I’m going to meet Sally, Tristan and Elizabeth in the lobby.” You said and walked over to his frowning face, giving a quick peck to his cheek as you passed.

“Wait Elizabeth is going? I’m really not sure I’d like you to go out with her.” James walked after you as you made your way out the door. He followed after you and grabbed one of his suit coats, slinging it over your shoulders, a bit to “keep you warm” but also to cover you a bit more than the outfit you wore.

“We settled things James, remember? She’s coming with Will and she is your eyes and ears.” You muttered and pushed the down button for the elevator, turning to give him a longer kiss on the lips as the doors opened. You turned back to the elevator as Aileen walked out of them, flipping her hair back. She made a quick comment and whistle about your look as you got in the machine and closed the doors. “Love you my dear. I’ll see you later. I’ll be home before 3.” You called as the door finally closed.

You hadn’t been gone long into the night, you and Sally really splitting off and hitting the drinks hard as the others stayed reserved. What you hadn’t noticed when you left the hotel was that a witch had checked in for the night to do her spells in a haunted hotel. This was unfortunate for you but very fortunate for James who couldn’t get his mind off you not being in the hotel. His friends had even asked about you and were surprised you were allowed out, considering how possessive and controlling James was.

After enough comments from his friends and the time getting closer to your curfew, James beckoned Miss Evers to get the witch to him. She surprised down the hallways with the witch in tow only to be met with James at the doorway to the gathering. “You need to summon a ghost for me.” He said and there wasn’t much fight from the woman after his commanding tone scared the crap out of her.

You were having the time of your “life”, currently dancing against Sally as the loud music pounded through your chest, she was riding the wave of whatever her drug of choice was for the night. Being a ghost from the 2010s meant at least you knew most of the music and blended in well with the others in the club. Tristian had also come to dance with you and Sally for a bit before finding some other people to dance with.

This was the only downside of dating a man from almost a century ago, you knew he was too molded in his ways to ever join you for something like this. You knew if he even knew what twerking was he’d disapprove of you even thinking about doing it. But you currently were, right against Sally who was also learning to do it, but instead rather enjoying the attention you two drew from those around you.

At the hotel, the witch currently sat in the hallway outside the murderous dinner party, her alter around her and one of your rings that James had gifted you sat right on top of the alter. As she began her spell, you were dancing along with Sally, getting a weird feeling in your chest. You chose to ignore it because you’d already felt a bit guilty leaving James today so you assumed it was just the alcohol and guilt weight heavy on your chest.

As Sally wrapped her scarf around you and danced with it around your shoulders, suddenly the scarf hung loose around the air, and when you opened your eyes, you didn’t see your hypodermic friend, instead a very angry James, and his murder friends behind him, sat at the table. You realized the coat he had given you on your way out was very obviously not on you, instead it sat at the club with Elizabeth where all of your things were left.

You opened your mouth to ask how the hell you got here, glancing to the clock to see that it wasn’t even past 2 am, and it wasn’t the time which had pulled you because because all of James’ friend were still sat at the table. James grabbed your arm to pull you out of the room, but you ripped it from his grasp, a sudden surge of anger coming out. “James, why the hell am I here?” You asked and glared at him.

“You told me you’d be home before 3. And you-“ James began to lecture you and you cut him off. “And you promised i would come home to just you and that i could enjoy myself tonight, but obviously both of those were broken.” You raised your voice back to him and crossed your arms. His face became somehow more angry as you brought him down in front of his dinner party. Aileen let out a small whistle to you fighting against him with a quiet “get em” which was met with a glare from James.

“Y/n lets take this outside.” He said lowly and you huffed. “Oh I’ll take it outside. All the way back to the club with my friends.” You said and walked towards the door, letting yourself out, and stumbling over the alter outside the door. “You fucking summoned me, you asshole. Can’t even trust that I’d be home on time. I’m leaving and I will be home as late as i want.” You yelled back at James and he grabbed your arm properly this time, stopping you in your tracks.

He began to pull you back towards your shared room and when he threw you inside, he slammed the door behind the two of you, guests and friends long forgotten as you two stared at each other. You definitely were a change from the silent obedient women he was used to, and him a change from the lenient and careless men from your life. “Why are you so controlling? You get 364 and a half days with me every year for eternity and i can get that one half of a day in peace doing what I want to do?” You shot at him, but he didn’t respond, just pulled his tie off and his suit coat.

“You don’t just get to dress like that and go dance on other people when you belong to me.” James spat back as he grabbed your upper arm again, pushing you back towards your shared bed. “News flash James, we’re in the 21st century and you don’t ‘own’ me. Because I am forced to spend eternity here I wanted to make the best of it and spend it with someone who I enjoy, but until you decide to make a legal commitment to me I am free to be whoever I want.” You shoved yourself away from him as he stood above you, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Letting out a long sigh, James watched you turn to grab a cigarette from his bedside table. “Who said I didn’t want to commit with you, y/n?” He asked in an exasperated sigh. You rummaged around the drawer to search for his matches and looked back to him. “Well for starters, how about your wife? Hmm? How about you on multiple occasions? How about the 2 years of dating and endless arguments how to treat our arrangement with your wife and her boy toys?” You muttered as you couldn’t find a matchbook, now looking back to the drawer.

You paused and gently picked up a small box you hadn’t seen in the drawer before. “James-“ he cut you off and walked to the drawer, catching your attention. “I wanted to ask you earlier while we were out but the ring itself wasn’t ready until after you left for the night.” He muttered and grabbed it from your hands. “I would’ve been more comfortable if people out in the world knew who’s you were. And the arrangement with Elizabeth is over, she can live her life separate from us.” He said and you could barely comprehend his words through your head spinning.

You dropped the unlit cigarette to the ground, instead opting to grab him in a big hug, pulling him down to you. Your makeup definitely was smudged as he pulled away to open the box. “May I at least ask the question? I’ve been planning this.” He unwrapped himself from your arms, using his hand to help you stand up, and lowered himself to kneel before you. His speech was full of plenty of reassuring words, also euphemisms about how death was the thing to bring you two together and bring new life to each other. Your own thought were drowning in love for the ring and the man before you. It was dainty yet plenty jeweled with his own initials being engraved on the sides. It now sat on your finger, you pulling his own lips to yours.

Your solid kiss was soon interrupted by a knock on the door and an exasperated Sally at the door, holding your things in her arms. She paused as you stayed in James’ arms. “Oh thank god we’re not in deep shit.” She muttered and James tapped your back gently. “Go back out but be home soon.” He said lowly. You smiled and looked to the ring on your finger. “I love you.” You whispered and he kissed you before you ran back out after Sally.

#james march #james patrick march #james march x reader #james Patrick march fluff #ahs hotel #fic thoughts fulfilled

140 notes · View notes