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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

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No longer locked upon the land but free on the rolling waves

You and Buggy come face to face with himself from the past, and while you’re fully accepting that this is your husband as a child, Buggy doesn’t want to accept it.

Rating: PG-13ish, but just due to some swearing.

Warning: Upset kid, upset husband. Reader is way too nice, doesn’t necessarily take husband’s feelings into account as well.

A/N: A combined request. I did a few versions of this story before feeling like it hit the marks I was wanting to hit. Also, I’m just trying to vibe off what I’ve seen of Kid Buggy. I’m no expert. I’d protect that kid with my life. He’s so adorable. I also like the trope of “Meeting your self from another time” and “gets turned back into kid-self”. This is the former, and I know shit about time travel but I just kind of made something up. Also, kelpies. Are they in One Piece? I honestly don’t know but I love kelpies and needed an excuse to mention them.

Title comes from "Sailing Song" by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6/Epilogue TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @misadventures0fdes @sylum @valen-yamyam16 @dohkyu

Chapter 2

Your husband refused to speak to you until the kid was gone, but you weren’t going to put up with this. Instead, you carried on like normal, taking the kid with you as you did your tasks around the ship, giving him a tour, and when it was dinner time, you fixed his favorite meal. However, when your husband came into the kitchen, he was glaring at you.

“What’s he still doing here?”

You crossed your arms and stared at him. “I’m feeding him dinner because I’m not going to let this kid go hungry because you think he’s a kelpie or omen or whatever is rattling around in that brain of yours.” With a huff, you grabbed two plates and piled them both with food before placing them on the table. Kid Buggy was already seated, watching Adult Buggy cautiously. His clothes weren’t dry yet from earlier and he didn’t want to go for another swim.

Your husband grumbled and took a seat, glaring down at his plate of food. At least you cooked his favorite meal, must be to make up for this crap he’s having to deal with. He sighed and picked up his fork before he started to shovel food into his mouth. You rolled your eyes and fixed your own plate. Kid Buggy immediately started to do the same as his adult counterpart. His eyes lit up and he looked at you excitedly.

“This is my favorite!” He said with his mouth full of food. “How’d you know?!”

You just shrugged and smiled at him as you sat down between them at the head of the table, handing the kid and your husband each a napkin. It was a lost cause because neither of them took it from you so you set it down beside them. You tried to make an effort. “I know everything.”

Kid Buggy looked between you and your husband; Adult Buggy did the same. It was weirdly intriguing and adorable to you. You ate your own food, not looking at either of them. Once your plate was clean you picked up your husband’s napkin and leaned over to wipe his face; he rolled his eyes, mumbling something about pirates and not being scary. The kid narrowed his eyes at the two of you as you leaned over to do the same for him.

“You both wear your food as much as eat it, you know.” You chuckled as you wiped the kid’s face, and to your surprise, he allowed it a second time. Your husband was used to it by now. He may be a pirate but you still wanted him to be somewhat clean, even if it was just using a damn napkin from time to time. “Now, sweetie, remember the conversation from earlier, about who this man across from you is?”

Kid Buggy shrugged and set his fork down. “You said it’s me from the future, but I don’t like this, I don’t want to be some loser like him.”

“You little-”

“Buggy.” You shot your husband a look. “This is you as a kid, so you can’t be mad if he’s sassy to you.”

“He isn’t me!” Adult Buggy insisted. “Stop saying that!”

“Honey, it is, I know it.” You assured him. “I'll take care of him and get it all figured out, okay? I promise.”

Your husband crossed his arms and glared at you. You just smiled sweetly at him. You would figure it out, no matter what.

“No.”

“Buggy-”

“This is my bed.”

“And I share it with you.”

Your husband stood at your side of the bed, glaring down at you and the sleeping figure beside you. There was no way you were going to allow the kid to sleep with the crew, and while you didn’t talk about the sleeping arrangements first with your husband, you also couldn’t find him to talk about it. He had disappeared after dinner, grumbling once again about kelpies, omens, selkies, whatever. You didn’t even know at this point. So after you got yourself and Kid Buggy ready for bed, you let the kid tell you another story about his adventures as an apprentice before he fell asleep nearing the end of his tale. It was kind of cute.

“Just for the night.” You told Buggy as he stormed over to his side of the bed. “Buggy, why are you so upset by this?”

“You brought something onto the ship!” He hissed at you as he threw the covers back and climbed under them. “We don’t know what this is!”

“It’s you, Buggy.” You sighed as you looked down at the sleeping kid. He was sprawled out beside you, snoring loudly. It reminded you of someone else you knew. “He mentioned being an apprentice on the Oro Jackson, and… and you know weird things like this can happen!”

“Not weird like this!” He shot back. “I’m going to sleep and when I wake up that kid better be gone. I don’t care where you take him, he has to be gone.”

He turned his back to you after that and pulled the covers over his head. Okay, you weren’t really bothered by that reaction. He was upset over this but you wanted to know why. What made him so certain this wasn’t him as a kid? It made you wonder if something happened to your husband as a kid to get him this freaked out. Your husband could be stubborn but you were determined. You carefully crawled over the sleeping kid and slipped under the covers behind your husband, stretching out behind him as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Buggy, tell me what’s wrong, please.” You murmured in his ear. You felt his body stiffen up, whether from the question or you suddenly being right there, you weren’t sure, but you needed to know. “You… you seem scared.”

He turned and glared at you but you didn’t back down. “I’m not talking about it.”

Oh, well…

You rested your chin against his shoulder. “I think there’s something to talk about, honey.”

He scoffed and looked away from you, but he didn’t shy away from your touch. You leaned over to kiss his cheek, hoping that might help him relax enough to start talking to you. Clearly there was something about having Kid Buggy here that was bothering him more than the kid just “being a curse or bad omen”. It made you wonder of the possibility of other universes, alternate realities, but then you remember hearing those stories from the drunk sailors and pirates, and really, you heard enough of those stories from different places that it had to be a possibility.

“Buggy, did something happen to you when you were that age?” You asked. He tensed up once more and you loosened your hold on him, but he sighed heavily and relaxed in your arms. “Honey?”

“Stop talking and go to sleep.” Buggy replied wearily. “Please, it’s late.”

Oh, he said please to you, that meant something. You knew when to stop, and if he was using words like that it meant you had to back off, so you did. You kissed his cheek again and pulled the covers around the two of you tightly.

“I love you so much, Captain.” You whispered in his ear. “You’re the fiercest pirate on the seas, and no one ever stands a chance against the future King of the Pirates.”

That did the trick. He rolled over and wrapped himself around you, head tucked under your chin as he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead. You’d have to try and ask him again tomorrow. Maybe you could get him and the kid to interact without insults and threats.

Kid Buggy, however, had stirred and woken up at that moment, hearing you say the words ‘Captain’ and ‘King of the Pirates’. Now he was more confused than ever.

You were the first one awake, which wasn’t a surprise, but what was a surprise was you were surrounded on both sides. Your husband was clinging to you like a damn octopus, arms and legs wrapped around you with his head resting against your chest. The kid was curled up beside you and your arm was holding him against your side. Did he move in his sleep or did you? It was hard to tell but you didn’t think too long at that moment. You needed to get up and start breakfast.

Not to mention they were both snoring. The kid at least was nowhere near your ear, but your husband moved in his sleep and suddenly he was snoring right in your ear. Okay, that was enough. You suddenly sat up, jostling them both awake, and their matching sleepy expressions were quite adorable.

“Good morning!” You giggled, leaning over to kiss your husband on the cheek before turning to give Kid Buggy a kiss on the forehead. You pretended not to notice the smug look on your husband’s face at being the first to get attention, but you figured the kid wouldn’t care. “I’m going to get breakfast started, okay? Both of you get dressed and come find me in a bit.”

You got up before either could respond, throwing on your clothes for the day and hurrying out the door. Hopefully your husband wouldn’t throw the kid overboard again but you knew not to hold your breath. Maybe they could have a bonding moment, or Buggy could talk to his kid self or vice versa, who knew, but you wanted your husband to be honest about why this was so upsetting and stressful for him.

They finally joined you fifteen minutes later. Kid Buggy’s clothes were finally dry, so he put those back on. Your husband had his jacket and hat on, looking every bit the dashing and handsome captain that he is. You brought him a cup of coffee and kissed his cheek, complimenting on how handsome he looked this morning. He leaned back in his seat with a smirk; the kid just looked between the two of you.

“So… do I become a captain?” He asked; you both turned to look at him. “I heard you talking last night.”

“Oh!” You poured him a cup of juice and brought it over to him, giving your husband a look that said please please be quiet and don’t interrupt let me just explain something to the kid. “Um, yes. You become a captain with your own crew and everything!”

His eyes widened and he looked at Buggy. Your husband was watching you carefully, but he said nothing. The kid actually looked impressed by that. “Is this my ship?”

“My ship.” Buggy told him, narrowing his eyes. “I worked hard to get where I am.”

“But if I’m you then it’s also my ship.” The kid said with a smug look, crossing his arms as he looked back at the captain. You chuckled softly as you served them both breakfast; eggs, toast, and potatoes. The two Buggys locked eyes for a moment before both picking up their forks and shoveling food into their mouths. It was quite a sight to see how in sync they were with their movements. You finally sat down with your own plate.

“You have to work hard to get where he is.” You said, pointing from the kid to your husband. “It didn’t happen overnight. It took a lot of work and sacrifice, y’know, usual stuff.”

“Wow.” Kid Buggy grinned. “Do me and Shanks have the ship together? Is he a part of the crew too? Where’s he at?”

Your husband stopped eating and set the fork down. He pushed back from the table and walked out of the room. It was surprising that he didn’t blow up at the kid, but you were grateful that he didn’t. The kid looked at you with a frown.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing.” You assured him. “We can talk about it later, I promise, but we got chores to do after breakfast.”

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x you #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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cloverdaisies · 3 months

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# ART CLASS 𝜗𝜚𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

JI CHANGMIN x reader

˗ˏˋ description:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : your crush on your art professor might be affecting your grades, he was just perfect but you’re just a student. how you accidentally fell in love with art class for the wrong reasons…

˗ˏˋ genre:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : fluff, unrequited to lovers.

˗ˏˋ word count:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : 5.5k+

˗ˏˋ notes:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : this was once 10k+ but oops, is a bit of an indulgent fic i can’t lie, i hope you love it as much as i do, so here’s some changmin brainrot to feed ur delusions, massive thank you to @juyeonszn for helping me get over my plot blocks, ily. proof reading in progress!

Mondays, the worst day of the week. That was for certain, considering you had a two hour class that morning with a professor that would draw over your weeks worth of work with sharpie. Thankfully, he’d already announced his leave and you wouldn’t had to deal with that anymore. Every morning you’d get the bus to university dreading the next class, headphones on trying to drown out thoughts of how you were going to survive your degree in these insufferable conditions.

“Today you have a lesson with your new professor, who’ll be taking over for me. He’s very well educated and I’m sure he will be able to fill in the gap after my leave.” Your old professor rambled on as if his low marking and reckless actions with felt tip pens would be missed.

You weren’t necessarily paying attention, more focused on your pencil work in the sketchbook than you were on the front of the class. Ears suddenly perking up at the voice you heard from the front of the room, it was a cuteish tone, at the same time mellow and calm - a voice that could put you to sleep that sat just on the right octave to make you fall in love with it.

“Hello everyone, I’m professor Ji and will be taking over the introduction to Fine Art module going forward. I look forward to getting to know you all and seeing your work. Today we will be starting a new project for your mid term evaluations, it will be a multimedia piece with a theme of your choice. Make it mean something, do what’s true to you.” Professor Ji stated, already he sounded as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. It was a breath of fresh air and his intellect was almost making you dizzy.

No y/n, you can’t be getting a crush on your professor this can only end in tears if you find out he’s already happily married and settled in life.

“Any questions?” He asked looking around the room with his thick black rimmed glasses, leant against the wall with his hands clasped in his blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Are you married?” Someone asked from the back of the room triggering a boisterous laugh to break out across the classroom.

Professor Ji sighed and rolled his eyes, clearly contemplating his response a bit taken a back by the question. Especially in a university classroom, where everyone’s an adult, it was such a high school question, but who could blame them for asking?

“Do I look that old to you?” He responded with a chuckle, holding a hand over his chest like wound had opened over his heart. Oh and he’s funny. This literally couldn’t get any worse, he just seemed perfect.

After that the class began to start their projects, however for some reason you just couldn’t overcome the creative block in your mind on what to do. As you were sat twiddling your pencil and scratching out ideas in your planner you felt a presence appear behind you.

“Struggling?” Professor Ji appeared over your shoulder with his hands behind his back, briefly looking down at your empty page before back at your embarrassed expression.

“I guess you could say so.” You laughed as if you were begging for hole in the earth to collapse and swallow you into non existence. You watched as he smiled sympathetically thinking of a way to help you, dragging a stool and bringing it closer to your workspace. He’d done this to every student, going around to check on your progress unlike your previous professor who didn’t really care less.

“Let’s see.” He scratched his head for a moment, tapping his pencil on the table. “What are you interested in?”

You blushed internally, the question on completely professional terms but almost sounded like something someone would ask on a first date - at least in your delusional state of mind.

“Well I usually focus on work that expresses feeling, like this piece I did on stress.” You showed him a previous piece of work you did for the class, the abstract work compelling him to the phone screen.

“This is really creative. I love the way you used colour here, it’s abstract but so detailed. I think you’ve definitely found a style there —” He paused for a moment realising he didn’t know your name.

“Y/n.” You slightly smiled at him, trying to make yourself seem less like an awkward mess in front of him or mask the fact, that you totally weren’t staring at him the entire time he’d been looking at the phone.

“Y/n. I definitely won’t tell you what to do! But something similar will definitely have you sailing through this module.” He smiled, the cute line peaking at his dimples which could of had you squealing right there like some sort of wild animal.

As he walked over to the next table you couldn’t help but wish he’d stayed longer, his presence was unfortunately addicting. It’s the way his eyes lit up seeing your work, his passion for his work, his intellect, his welcoming aura, it had you in some sort of chokehold you hadn’t felt in years.

You took his words on board, an idea suddenly crossing your mind in a quick flash. Sure it wasn’t the best idea considering your current situation, but all the emotions you’d depicted so far were negative. Something within you was scratching at your brain to illustrate the feeling of the fear of love, knowing you were good at painting the feelings you genuinely felt.

Beginning to map out your idea in your planner, the new wave of creativity certainly didn’t go unnoticed by your professor as he looked over at you working away with a smile.

Then you hit a wall. You didn’t like using anything other than acrylic paint, every other form of media just for some reason seemed to irk every single creative bone within you.

“Any progress?” Professor Ji passed your table for the last time, as the lesson would soon be drawing to a close.

“Yeah I have an idea. However, I hate working with anything other than acrylic.” You expressed, your ears turning a bright pink as he grazed your arm to take a look at your planner.

“Well I think this is a great idea.” He laughed politely, readjusting his glasses with a light push. “I’d love to discuss this more thoroughly in office hours with you, if you’d be up for it?”

“Sure. When?” You asked completely composed, your mind rattling through ideas for the piece whilst trying to block out any thoughts of the man next to you. He smiled for a moment, flicking through your scribbled notes with a pen.

“Today, 5-6pm. Think of the things you want to discuss before attending and I’ll be happy to help. It seems you’re a really talented artist. You just need a push in the right direction.” He replied, his friendly register doing nothing to help you out of the sick spiral you were falling down. You smiled as he walked off to the front of the classroom to close the lesson, unable to pay any focus to the words falling from his mouth as you flipped around your ballpoint pen and chewed nervously down on your lip - the venom of adrenaline circulating your body like a wildfire from the interaction.

The class began to pack their things, snapping you out of your silly nightmare daydreams packing your sketchbook and planner. You pushed your pencil behind your ear, planning to pack it away into your pencil case at some point but not necessarily revising that idea. You slung your bag over your shoulder with a sigh, about to leave door without looking back, your bed awaits.

“Don’t forget to sign your attendance guys.” Professor Ji pointed to the clipboard on the back of the door greeting everyone on the way out with a warm smile.

You quickly went to check your bag for the loose pencil you could have sworn you just had, not remembering where you’d placed it, frantically searching the bottom of your bag for it not fussing to open the case of pens in front of you.

“Are you looking for this?” Professor Ji, took the pencil from behind your ear with a chuckle. Thankfully, being the last to leave was on your side today, no one seeing the god awful embarrassment on your face.

“Thank you, that’s so stupid of me. Sorry.” You laughed off the embarrassment, grabbing the pencil from his hand and signing your name on the sheet as he continued to laugh. “Stop laughing.” You looked over to him, holding back your own giggles as he only laughed more.

“Sorry I can’t help it. See you later y/n.” He chuckled as you left the classroom with a idiotic smile glued to your lips, the door closing behind you. You could have screamed right there and then due to the shear torment of embarrassment.

As soon as your head hit your pillowcase, the room felt as if it was spinning, so many thoughts drowning that brain of yours they were turning it into nothing but mush. You felt your eyes shuttering closed, slumber gradually taking over your body.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

The persistent beeping of the alarm on your bedside table triggered you to rise from your nap like something out of the walking dead. You could have used more sleep, but you seriously needed to attend Professor Ji’s office hours otherwise your project was never going to be finished.

You got ready, your head clouded with looking good for your literal university professor. You shook those thoughts out your head fairly quickly before sliding into your boots and setting off out the door. The winter semester brought in dark nights, it was cold outside, so cold you could see your breath in a thin smoke as you waited at the bus stop.

Presenting your pass to the driver, thoughts circulated your head like a manic steam train running a track as if it was the F1 , you can’t fall for your prof, it would only end in tears when he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings. Staring into the steamed windows of the bus out on the dark night, you sighed the faint sound of music playing through your headphones as comfort.

You pressed the stop button, nervously making your way down the bus aisle as it came to a halt. Making your way to the arts building on campus, you inhaled an anxious sharp breath before reaching the hallway of offices. The office still had your old professors name engraved in a silver board on the front of the door, hesitantly you knocked awaiting an answer. The door handle turned, your stomach flipping and performing handstands.

“Y/n, come in.” Professor Ji smiled, walking into the office with a confident stride, the place littered with boxes seemingly needing to be unpacked. The office was lit warmly with a lamp stood in the corner behind the desk. He sat in a spinning chair at the polished desk nearly placed towards the centre of the room.

“So explain your plan.” He leant forward as you sat in one of the chairs opposite him, you pulled out your portfolio the chunky folder highlighting a collection of your previous projects.

“So, since I’ve done a lot of work on emotion, I thought I’d tackle something more complicated. So I wanted to do the fear of falling in love.” You explained showing him a colour palette you put together in class, it showed colours from a deep scarlett red to a sapphire blue. “The only issue is I don’t know how to use any other media than acrylic.”

“Hmm. So you’re a painter?” He asked watching you nod before beginning to speak again. “Have you ever tried oil paint?”

“Only briefly, I don’t really have the funds to buy oil paints though.” You laughed, thinking the suggestion was silly considering how expensive oil paints could be on your student funds.

“Thought so, that’s why I’m offering you use my resources for this project. Here.” He pushed a set of untouched oil paints across the table, as if they’d just been bought. You looked at him with confusion, you thought this had to be too generous, you’d never had any teacher care so much about their students.

“I mean thank you so much but why?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the gift, it wasn’t necessarily too expensive nor was it meant anything but a professional proposal.

“I know what it’s like to be a student. Plus, someone like you could really benefit from it, your work with acrylic is to not be transitioned into oil paint.” He passed on a genuine smile, a smile that radiated a positive energy you’d never felt. You looked down at them, still in a state of shock he’d go out of his way to buy such a thing for you. “I was also thinking, since 1 to 1 mentoring is setting back up with the new semester, would that be something you’d be interested in? I happened to stumble across your notes from your old professor and he noted you seemed very stressed with your work load.”

“Yeah that’s true, but I can handle it!” You tried to smile, however upon hearing the comments you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed in front of the likes of Professor Ji and his intellectual level in art. It felt as if you were being told you were slacking or left behind. “I don’t think I need any extra help.”

“Are you sure? I mean when I was in your year I also went through 1 to 1 mentoring for the same issue. I wasn’t always at the level I am now.” He sympathised with you, trying to catch eye contact as you looked down at the table.

“Okay. I guess it can’t hurt.” You sighed, still avoiding the glare of his brown eyes across the table, a silence lingering as the grandfather clock ticked on in the background.

“That’s great to hear. So it will be out of university grounds. Purely because the university won’t let me book a space in the week, I was thinking maybe a café? Of course on a completely professional basis, there’s a few other students needing the extra help too. I’ve got one more slot, are you free Wednesday at 10am?” He rambled on slightly, the thin biro in his hand hovering over the page beneath him. He pushed up his glasses and looked at you expectantly, your many thoughts being interrupted by his gaze.

“Uh, yeah that’s my day off so I guess.” You replied with a shrug, sitting back in the chair as you watched him messily scribble in his planner. “Do you have any pieces you’re working on at the minute?” You had no idea why you asked him, however something in you was desperate to ask.

“I’m just doing research at the moment into the baroque period, I would love to have the time do a piece of my own. It’s been a while.” Prof Ji seemed happy you asked, a small grin lighting up his cheeks as he spoke about it.

“Hopefully you can clear some time soon, I’d love to see what you make yourself.” You laughed, almost forgetting you were in a professional space as you let the words slip from your lips.

“Agreed. You’re free to go, see you on Wednesday morning.” He concluded the meeting politely, seeing you out the warm lit room through the tall chestnut door.

“See you then.” You replied, feeling heat rising to your cheeks as you noticed his arm over you keeping the door open, thoughts spinning through your dizzy head feeding your delusions like a sickly candy.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

After then, every other class had you spacing out with a mind full of Professor Ji, thoughts of his paint covered glasses, rolled up shirt sleeves, sweet smile and messy short hair. You often smiled to yourself, the words of every other prof passing through one ear and out the other - drowning softly into the background of your daydreams.

Wednesday seemed like a century away, you found your weekend dragging by Monday felt like an entire week and so did Tuesday. The night before, you’re sat planning your outfit as if you were going somewhere incredibly important the next day. Scrolling tiktok to cancel out your nerves for the next day, although it wasn’t a date, it was a completely professional meeting. You couldn’t shake the thought of it being a café setting, somewhere where you’d get to know someone for the first time, somewhere where you’d ask someone their hobbies, stare at each other across the table- you were getting carried away, but how couldn’t you?

The weather was on your side the next morning, the sun shining through your small apartment building window, the temperature outside not too warm but not too cold either. You carefully got dressed into the clothes you picked the night before, fixing your appearance in the mirror with a smile. Hopefully the effort wouldn’t look strange to him, after all you weren’t trying to look like the weird student with the crush on the teacher, nooooo that’s not you! It was and you couldn’t deny it.

You couldn’t help but twiddle your thumbs on the bus towards campus, palms coating themselves in a thin layer of sweat, your stomach churning in anticipation. You thanked the driver, walking towards one of the many on campus café where you’d agreed on meeting. It was a sunny day, therefore a considerable amount of people had taken to having picnics on the campus green, most opting to sit outside the café with their iced drinks and books.

You spotted him immediately, sat on one of the small tables with his laptop, scrolling away through his laptop and sipping at his iced latte with pouty lips.

"Hey." You smiled walking up to the chair in front of him with a smile, he returned the smile closing his laptop and putting his drink aside on the table.

"Y/n, lovely to see you. How are things coming alone? Do you want a coffee?" He asked picking up his wallet and signalling towards inside of the cafe.

"I can get my own! And I can't say I've done much, I've been pretty distracted the past few days." You laughed, trying not to be too suspicious or act embarrassing in anyway. He looked at you momentarily, eyes wavering across your outfit and perfectly styled hair.

"You look nice, are you going somewhere after this?" He asked, for the second time heat flooded your cheeks, your ears probably lighting up bright pink.

"No." You didn't know how to respond, if anything you were too stunned to speak, trying to gargle up words out of the jungle rattling in your brain. "I just had some extra time to get ready this morning."

"Glad I'm not keeping you from getting anywhere." He chuckled a mischevious smile on his lips, "I'll get the coffee, what are you wanting?"

"An iced matcha would be nice." You blushed, your voice barely coming out above a whisper as all your dreams of a man all seemed to be coming true. He was so mature but at the same time had a man-child charm, he believed in chivalry and was always there to give you everything you needed. In your sick fantasy, he was your prince, the older man that would save you from the horror of the boys your own age.

As he nodded, politely exusing himself to get your drink, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, reaching to grab it, a text from your roommate lit up the screen. 'Wanna go to the bar tonight?' You hadn't been out in a long time, too busy in work and exams to dare leave your mess of a bedroom: seemingly procastinating work was always more important than your own happiness and social life. 'Sure' You replied, after all you deserved some fun after everything.

Professor Ji returned with your drink, you graciously thanked him and slid your phone back into your pocket. He turned the pages of his planner to the notes about your project he'd written earlier.

"So have you started sketching out your linework yet?" He asked, repeating his little habit where he pushes up the middle of his glasses to the top og his nose since they always slid down slightly everytime he loked down.

"No... Sorry, its been a hard few days. I'm not even sure where to begin." You replied awkwardly, with all the thoughts of him you'd completely forgotten all aspects of the project or the fact it was due sooner than anticipated.

"That's okay, we can always start now, that's if you brought your sketchbook." He laughed lightly, not trying to put you in some pit of self doubt when you were already struggling to hit a pencil to paper.

"Yeah I did actually." You reach to grab your large portfolio bag, grabbing your sketchbook and opening it to the page where your moodboard for the piece was. You had practiced some sketching, feathered lines and doodles scattered across one of the pages. He reached across the table, looking at the drawings with a keen eye.

"Pass me a pencil." He asked, holding out his hand as you gave him one of yours, watching as he began to draw in the corner. "Instead of feathering your lines so much, try to get a firmer line like this so its easier for you to follow the precision of the paint."

He drew the heart balloon you'd drew in the corner, of course in a much nicer way which was soul crushing for you, but you followed his guidance and he nodded in approval. Of course, he could'nt admit it, but Ji himself was feeling some sort of gut feeling, perhaps guilt as he felt himself begin to get nervous around you. He thought it was endearing, the way you followed his movements and laughed nervously when you accidentally made a mistake quicly erasing it. However, he would absolutely never, his self control was a much tougher obstacle to tackle and he wouldn't let it fall for anyone.

You carried on discussing placement and ideas, not long until you had an minitaure layout of the page for your project all sketched out. The hour had flew by, and you almost forgot about your drink, too focused on him and his words to comprehend the time.

"Thanks for today, oh, and the drink, Professor Ji." You began to pack up your things, your pencils going neatly slotting into their case.

"Of course, just call me Changmin by the way, the professor thing is too formal even for a classroom." He felt himself cringing, why would he say that? He did mean it but, it felt even weirder that it was you saying it and not the other students.

As you left, he took off his glasses for a moment palms flattened over his face as his thoughts ran over all the events of the past hour, raking his fingers through his hair. Although he did think everything you did was in some way magical, he understood that he could not loosen the boundary between him being your tutor and you being his student. It simply couldn't happen. Ever. That thought would torment him until you either went away or he had to leave himself.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

For the next few hours, your daydreams had become an even more delusional hell than before. Your memory floated over the fact his hand had touched yours briefly as you handed him the pencil, the warmth of his fingertips lingering over your knuckles. As you grabbed your bag, getting ready to meet your friends you simple’s could not shake the thought of today, the chemistry between you both, the tension. It was all a bit much to handle.

You met your friends at the bar, regardless of the messy state of mind you were in. You got a break from work conversations for once, being able to stay up late and drink as much as you wanted as the sports played in the background of the bar. For the first time you felt as if this was normal university life you were living, however the huge disadvantage of not drinking in a long time is that after a couple of drinks you were irresponsibly and irrevocably drunk.

“Get home safe y/n.” You friend smiled, you two bring the last people in the bar as your roommate and her boyfriend had already left much earlier.

“You too.” You smiled before turning around and trying to walk in a straight line, the narrow alley of the street proving difficult as you accidentally wandered into the wall.

On a late night convenience store trip, trying to shake his irreplaceable thoughts. Changmin couldn’t get a wink of sleep with the pool of guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach at the idea of you. He left the store with a few snacks, figuring if he couldn’t sleep he may as well watch a movie or something to pass the time.

As if the world was against him, he noticed a familiar figure stumbling down the street, sighing as he recognised you, clearly not being in a state where you can get home safe unless you lived extremely nearby.

“Y/n?” Your ears perked up at the familiarly sweet voice. A voice of concern as you looked up to see your professor, Changmin stood in front of you with a glint of worry in his eyes.

“Oh…. hiiiii…. Sorry I must look like a mess right now.” Barely able to string out a sentence you giggled and hiccuped pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Oh goodness… how you’d regret this in the morning.

“Can you get home safely? How much did you have to drink?” He asked frantically, gasping as you almost stumbled over his palms landing on either arm to support your body.

“Yes. You’re so funny…. I just need to get the bus.” You slurred your words going to walk past him, before you were stopped by him blocking your path.

“There’s no buses from here at this hour it’s 3am! I can’t take you home because I’ve drank myself. You can sleep on my couch if you want but if you go to walk home, I’m walking all the way with you.” Changmin stated, watching your eyes light up all giddily as you began jumping up and down.

“OOOO, What does your place look like?!” You squealed the curiosity getting you way too overexcited in the drunken state you were in

“Come on then, you had lectures in the morning you need be more careful.” Changmin let you link your arm into his, despite the berry pink shade rising in his cheeks he hoped you’d wake up in the morning and forget all about the way you were acting towards him for your own sake.

His apartment was a humble excuse for a studio, not too big but not inconveniently small either. There were band posters and some of his original art work hung on the walls across the room where there was space. It was lit warmly, he seemed to hate fluorescence of ceiling lights and much preferred dotting smaller lights with thrifted lampshades around the room.

“You have the bed, I’m gonna stay awake for a while.” He pointed to across the room where his neatly made bed was just waiting to canon balled, the mountain of pillows looking so unrightfully comfortable. You collapsed into the sheets without any arguments, failing to see the relieved smile as he sat down in front of the television.

You soon drifted off to sleep, every little mumble, little breath was heard across the room by him. He struggled to shake the thoughts of you, after all that’s what was keeping him up in the first place. He’d only made his situation worse, he couldn’t fall in love with you no matter how attractive he thought you were. Every time he shut his eyes he saw you, and now you were across the room the thought was haunting him. So he laid across the sofa awake, into the hours of the early morning until he just couldn’t keep them open anymore. Even in his dreams, the pictures of you danced like paintings across his brain.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

Of course leaving your professors house hungover at 8am on a Thursday morning, wasn’t the proudest moment of your life, it certainly was an experience. You’d never been mortified of your own actions, god knows what you said to him, you couldn’t remember blurting anything you shouldn’t of. However as you showed up to your lectures for the next 3 weeks he didn’t talk to you, nor did he help you with your project or take you to any cafés for your mentoring.

Your one to one sessions now took place in his office, to him it was easier to make the difference between love interest and student in there. You could tell the difference, he wasn’t as friendly, he was ice cold and this only made you more embarrassed.

After a few weeks you finally mustered up the courage to ask him.

“Why are you being so different with me?” You asked confidently, watching him avoid making eye contact and ignore the question as if he never heard it. “You owe me an explanation.”

“Do I? I’m just trying to maintain a professional relationship with you.” He shrugged continuing to check through your sketchbook, you couldn’t look at him without beginning to shake, the confidence in your voice wavering.

“What do you mean by that?” You retorted, confused to why that was suddenly so serious, when had HE ever been unprofessional, after all weren’t you the problem?

“I mean what happened those few weeks ago, was wrong. I’m your lecturer nothing more.” He placed his palm on the desk looking at you with a serious glare, eyes wavering suspiciously.

“Changmin?” You were hesitant to ask, “Do you have feelings for me?”

There was silence, you wished you could swallow your words back into your head but you were too late. He stared at you with a panicked expression, then one of disappointment before beginning to speak.

“I can’t Y/n, you’re just a student. You’re my student, I don’t want to lose my-”

He knew he was hurting himself with his own words, it was so clear he’d been pushing himself away from what he wanted and that was you.

You interrupted him with a kiss, it took a moment before he reciprocated standing up straight and pushing your back into the wall behind you. It was passionate desperate, as if every emotion, anger, frustration, love that was so forbidden - he’d just let it go. He couldn’t fight it anymore.

Pulling his face away from yours, you looked at him with teary eyes, all the emotions bursting out as your own feelings began to conflict.

“I’m sorry. That should have never happened.” He quickly backed away, holding his lips. You shook your head violently not able to produce a coherent sentence.

“No. I’m in… I can’t say it. Don’t hate me.” You still couldn’t think of the words, you didn’t want to frighten him or push him away. You were scared he wouldn’t be able to love you back, he’d hold his career over you.

However that singular tear that fell from your eye, was gently wiped away by his thumb. Wrapping his arms around your head and bringing you to his chest. He sat himself on the desk, lifting you on to his knee to comfort you.

“It’s okay, I’m in love with you too.” He whispered into your ear, only causing you to sob more as his own tears were wiped away by a hearty chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to figure out the work stuff before I can fully be able to love you like I want to though."

You smiled up at him in the ambient lighting, as he rocked you in his arms against the warmth of his chest you were content. The dimples in his cheeks sending your stomach swarming with butterflies, as you pushed your glasses up his nose for him.

That’s how you accidentally fell in love with your art professor.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

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poppy-metal · 2 years

Note

things that I like to believe are canon part 2

•going with eddie to a hellfire meeting, even if you don’t play, sitting next to the throne you have a notebook that you use to jot down things from the campaign. the boys are arguing over what their next move should be and eddie is watching with a smirk but takes the opportunity to lean over and write ‘hi (:’ in the corner of your book

•”you got something right here-” he gestures to the corner of your mouth and you go to wipe it away but he grabs your hand and smirks “don’t worry baby, daddy’s got it” and he leans in a licks over your lips “all clean”

•eddie making a dnd npc based on you and incorporating them into the quests

•going to sleep without kissing eddie, you’ve had a long day and simply forgot, but the boy sits up obsessing until he rolls over and shakes you awake and you panic sitting up slightly “what what is it??” the street lights illuminate his features just enough that you can see his sad expression “why didn’t you kiss me??” “wha—” “where is my kiss???” you’d be annoyed if his pout wasn’t so cute but still you playfully grumble “here’s your damn kiss” before leaning in and pressing your lips to his 4 or 5 times, he hums in content and buries his face in your boobs

•literally having to feed him cause he gets so caught up in writing campaigns or making music, you sit in front of him with a bowl of food spooning it into his mouth

•you getting sick and eddie pouting cause you won’t let him kiss you but he sneaks a few in when you’re spacing, you gently scold him cause you don’t want him to get sick. “no virus will stop me from kissing my woman”

•he gets sick

•both of you sitting in bed, stuffy noses and fluffy robes and eddies just “worth it”

•eddie with the man flu being all dramatic “I’m dying baby this is it” “it’s literally the sniffles ed” “when I die you’re not allowed to fall in love with anyone else” “what?” “i said what i said” rolling your eyes and placing a damp cloth on his forehead

•trying to take his temperature with a thermometer but he tells you to kiss his forehead instead because your lips are more accurate

•asking you to apply Vaseline to his chest every 10 minutes cause ‘the effects have worn off :(‘

•if his flu is more serious you enter Doctor Mode, you call off work and sit on the bed next to him all day, making him soup and forcing him to stay hydrated “no eddie beer does not count” “aww”, filling a container with warm water and using a soft cloth to wipe him clean of the sweat

•applying cream to his raw nose, and cleaning around it when mucus starts to drip out, eddie tries to push you away cause “t’s gross baby” and you shush him cause taking care of your man is not gross and he literally did the same for you

•tying his hair back the first time he vomits

•after you’re both better eddie has a strict ‘wear a jacket whenever you leave the house’ rule

•waking up in the morning and going to relieve yourself in the bathroom and halfway through eddie walks in still half asleep and kicks your legs to the side “eddie get out what the hell?” “s’no biggie baby, scoot back a bit, yeah?” you’re still half asleep and don’t feel like arguing so you do and he relieves himself, aiming his stream in the open space between your legs, you’re blushing cause this is probably the weirdest and most intimate thing you guys have done

• that one time opens the gate for new experiences. comes in and pees when your in the bath, brushing your teeth or getting ready for the day. you’ve also noticed that he’ll wait until you need to pee before he gets up and goes with you. not necessarily sexual, boy is a lil codependent

•sits on the edge of the bath or on the counter while you bathe, talking about animatedly about a new iron maiden song he’s learning, liking being close. loves to wash your hair for you.

•loves when you wash his hair

•loves to dress you just as much as he likes undressing you

•has a box filled with mementos from your relationship. movie stub, receipt from your first date, the napkin you drew a silly picture on when you went out to a group dinner, half empty perfume bottle of his favourite scent of yours, photobooth pictures from when starcourt was still there, all the notes you’ve put in his drug box, all the post-it notes etc

•his arm constantly wrapped around you, not as a possessive thing but a comfort thing for both of you (okay he’s a little possessive)

———————

Cutting myself off again lmao

quite literally rendered me incapacitated.

#ask #the one where he kicks ur legs open. oh.#and the drawing a 'hi' in your notebook?? WHINES #eddie spaghetti

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restinslices · 2 months

Note

Hello! I don’t care about which format, just whatever works for you!

I’m not sure any of them would mind tbh but imma still try and give them different reactions slightly

Bi-Han has heard of vampires before, but he’s never actually met one and he wasn’t sure how he felt. Vampires came with many complications and if they decided to backstab you, there was a good chance the victim wasn’t seeing the next day. Maybe Bi-Han was worried about this because he’s done his fair share of stabbing people in the back. Maybe he was just being paranoid. He didn’t know what it was but when he found out, he started to distance himself a bit and I wouldn’t be surprised if he said some not so kind words when he found out.

Bi-Han would be very conflicted. His strategist way of thinking would say “keep them close enough so you can watch them. A vampire would be an excellent ally” but the boyfriend part of him would say “they’re your partner. Don’t be an asshole”. He’d land on keeping them close enough so he wouldn’t lose them and letting his brain figure out what to do next as time passed.

Bi-Han wouldn’t be bothered by things like seeing his partner feeding. I don’t think he’d wanna watch the whole thing but if he caught the end of it, he wouldn’t be too bothered. If it was his enemies though, he’d take delight in watching them be torn apart and being used for food. Feeding on him is definitely not happening. He hates feeling like a juice box or like a leech is always on him, so the answer is no. The weaknesses might bother him simply because he thinks they’re stupid. Sunlight? Yeah, now he knew why they lived in an area that was never that bright and why they always did things at night but it was still bothersome. Way more bothersome since he knew what was up. He’s not sure why. Either way, he’d definitely use their strengths and abilities to his advantage. He likes them so it’s not like he’s just using them, but now there’s no hiding things like their super strength so they can unleash it all now. He needs all the help he can get when it comes to the war that’s coming.

Bi-Han isn’t sure about becoming a vampire though. His partner has offered and he’s always said no. Not because he doesn’t want it though. The strength, speed, flight, and all that other shit sounds great. It’d give him a huge boost. But the weaknesses is something he’s not sure he could deal with. Plus, he doesn’t know if he’d stay a cyromancer. He’s grown up with these powers and he doesn’t want them taken away. He doesn’t care what he’d get in return. His answer will stay no, but if he finds out his powers won’t be affected or they’ll be stronger, then there’s a huge chance he might say yes.

He keeps them around for multiple reasons. He’s not a complete asshole and is just using them, but he does have a bigger plot.

Kuai Liang isn’t necessarily shocked. I think Kuai Liang is smart enough to pick up on certain hints but he didn’t let himself believe them. His idea of vampires is skewed by the scary stories his father used to tell but his partner doesn’t match those stories. Vampires are supposed to be horrifying and blood sucking creatures. His partner wasn’t like that. They made jokes and laughed and got in close quarters with people without murdering them. So when they confess to being a vampire, he doesn’t believe them until they show proof.

Kuai Liang, like his brothers, is conflicted now. He’s not sure if he should distance himself in case they turn out to be some manipulative freak that’s tricked him this whole time, or stay close to them. After all, he never sensed any treachery and they didn’t have to confess at all but this could’ve been apart of whatever game they were playing. He’d especially be on edge if this was around the same time Bi-Han was revealed to be a traitor. He’d slowly get closer to them again. He would need time to think and time to watch how his partner reacted. He definitely wasn’t expecting them to be sad but understanding. Thankfully though, at some point they’d be back to normal.

Kuai Liang makes sure to be careful around them now. He doesn’t use his pyromancy when he’s close to them, since fire can kill any person but it’s especially dangerous for vampires. When it comes to feeding, he’s not helping out much. The whole luring people thing just isn’t for him and honestly it’s not his job. You can eat however many enemies you want but when it comes to normal people living their lives? He will not be participating. Besides that, now that he knows the quirks they had has something to do with their condition, it’s weirdly calming. He has answers for everything now. For example, he likes that he knows why they’re so against morning dates. At first it was just something he thought was a bit peculiar. Now he knows the real reason and he likes not being in the dark. After thought; no he’s not being drank from. His blood probably burns their mouth.

Kuai Liang does not want the bite. It’s a definite no. Kuai Liang is someone that is comforted by death. It’s an ending everyone is supposed to experience and after death he hopes he can be reunited with his father and anyone else he’s lost (or the people he will inevitably lose because this is Mortal Kombat). A life that has no ending is unnatural to him and it would defeat the whole purpose of living. You live and hope you make your mark so you’re remembered. There’s no point on doing that if you’ll never leave.

He’s a bit suspicious at first but once that suspicion ends, it’s back to normal for him.

Tomas has only heard of vampires through stories and the media so his idea of them is also skewed. I don’t think he’s as suspicious as Kuai Liang though. He’s mostly confused. Why lie to him? How long have they been alive? Why choose him as a boyfriend? What other abilities do vampires have? Have they ever used their abilities on him? Did they ever think about about drinking from him? It quickly becomes a game of 20 questions and that’s not even enough to fill his curiosity. He had to know how much he thought he knew was true and how much was fiction. He had to know why he got picked to be their boyfriend out of everyone, especially if they’ve been alive for thousands of years.

Tomas doesn’t pull away as much. Sure, he needs a minute to think but he does that by their side. There’s no real point in pulling away. They might leave and he didn’t want that. The best course of action was to think about what he wanted while still being near them and asking for space on days where he needed it. At some point he’d decide he still wanted them and they’d go back to normal. He’d probably come to this conclusion quicker than the other two. Tomas mainly care for if he feels appreciated and loved. He doesn’t care much for species or other trivial things.

Tomas is mainly fascinated with having a vampire partner. I mean, come on! They can fly! He can too but that’s not the point. Vampires have such interesting powers and they can differ depending on who it is. He’s gonna ask 50 million questions with little to no shame. He’s just very curious and he’s especially curious about how they even became a vampire. If it was traumatizing then he’ll drop it until they’re ready to share. As for feeding, he doesn’t ask. He knows it’s probably random humans being drank from and he doesn’t really wanna know about that. When it comes to drinking from him, the answer is no. I know I’ve said no for all of the, but I don’t think any of them would like being someone’s source of food. Plus it would tire them out and they have to be at their peak at all times.

Tomas isn’t sure if he wants the bite. He’s someone who is also comforted by death and the idea he’ll see his lost loved ones at some point. At the same time being a vampire would be cool and it’d let him spend forever with the person he loves. The answer would be no at first, but as he gets older he knows he has to make a choice. He’s just not sure what that choice will be. He’d give himself a time limit. Something like “I have to make a definite decision by the time I’m 40”.

Adjusts to it easier than the others. He has 100+ questions to ask but it’s Tomas so who’s bothered?

Overall, they still care for their partner and end up keeping them around even if it’s for different reasons. These men have magic. A set of fangs may spook them but they’ll get over it

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero #kuai liang scorpion #bi han #tomas vrbada smoke #kuai liang #kuai liang mk1 #tomas vrbada #bi han x reader #bi han mortal kombat #bi han mk #scorpion kuai liang #tomas vrbada mk1

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 3 months

Text

Chapter 9

oh god oh fuck he's back

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

Hey Byakuya I'm glad you had your little reconciliation moment. We're still in a killing game though so don't forget

There is not as much of a focus on the other chars...trying to change that for the future because they're just as fun to write

Toko, girl...I do love Toko as a character but as a person she does some questionable stuff. This hasn't changed for this fic

@moonlighttogami betaread this!!

Content warning tags: Monokuma shows up to move the plot. I'm not sure what to tag this one with to be honest...canon compliance stressful events I guess?

< previous - from start - next >

“So you guys are…like, better now?”

It’s Asahina who asks this, walking boldly up to where he’s sitting at breakfast the next morning. He raises an eyebrow at her, setting down the piece of toast that Makoto had delivered him.

“What on earth do you mean?” He asks right back. He has the feeling of eyes, following his every movement. It’s annoying, but he supposes it makes sense; being locked up in a building with no new information meant the common masses would be slavering for entertainment. Relationship drama, or gossip thereof, was one way to sate that need.

“Oh, you know…you guys seemed like you were arguing before,” She says casually, rocking on her heels. “Like, you would leave any time he was in the same room, you wouldn’t talk to him, and he stopped bringing you breakfast…” She trails off, voice ending in a pointed lilt.

“I don’t know what assumptions you’re making, but I’m not interested in feeding your delusions.” He replies coolly. Let them draw their own conclusions. “Why not bother Makoto about this?”

“What do you think they’re doing?” She jerks her chin behind her. Makoto is surrounded on all sides by Yasuhiro, Owada…and Ishimaru, who for some reason seemed oddly friendly, especially with Owada. The weight of three, overbearing personalities seemed to be physically crushing the boy, as he tries to avoid Mondo’s belting, burlish questions by ducking into his cereal.

He wonders if Makoto was looking at him, probably making pleading eyes for assistance, and purposely looks away. He quietly congratulates himself for his forward thinking; after waking up some time before seven (warm and tangled up in sheets and limbs, and with his internal clock thrown entirely off-course), he immediately kicked Makoto out, shoving the groggy boy bodily out of his room, specifically to avoid drawing this kind of unnecessary speculation.

(He worried, afterwards, about whether he had inadvertently ruined their recently repaired deal. But then Makoto said ‘good morning’ when he entered the cafeteria, and then brought him breakfast as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. And suddenly, it felt somewhat foolish of him to have been concerned in the first place.)

“Like I said. Draw your own conclusions.” He hums, lifting up his mug for a sip of coffee. It was bitter and watery, but there’s some slight improvement from before; his constant hassling of Ishimaru must have yielded results. “Is that all? Can you leave now?”

Asahina wanders off, apparently annoyed that he won’t reveal anything more. With her absence, he suddenly becomes aware of a presence behind him, and as he sets down his mug, he manages to identify the person by smell.

In the time since becoming blind, it seemed that his nose had sharpened, though that wasn’t necessarily a pleasant adjustment. He sighs, “What, Fukawa.”

The shuffling footsteps that had been inching steadily closer to him stop, then scurry off. What a strange one. He suspected that she was of the same crowd as Fujisaki, an admirer that has confused expected appreciation of superiority for romantic infatuation. For the time being, she was still relatively harmless, and somewhat useful in how attentive she was, cleaning up after him at mealtimes. He could have Makoto chase her off later…somehow or another.

Breakfast was drawing to a close. People began putting away their dishes, meandering towards the exit. Byakuya stands up and begins walking towards the library, and not long after he enters the hallway does he hear the sound of footsteps, sneakers squeaking to catch up to him, and allows himself a small smile.

___

Ding dong, bing bong.

He pauses outside of his room door, looking up in the direction of the sound. How odd, but he didn’t think it was ten PM already…he’d been very careful to have Makoto pay attention to the time on his wristwatch, so that they would leave the library with ample time to spare. He glances over his shoulder, and sees Makoto standing in the middle of the hallway, staring confusedly at the nearest speaker.

“Ahem! School announcement, school announcement.” Monokuma’s voice grates from the speakerphone. “Nighttime is quickly approaching, but before it arrives... All students, please gather in the gym immediately. Emergency! Emergency!”

This…could only spell trouble.

Around them, their peers were beginning to peek out of their rooms. Some of them seemed to be trembling. A clamor of anxiety was beginning to build, people voicing their worry for what could be coming next.

“I-It’s not a b-b-body, right?” He hears someone stutter behind him, along with the sound of audible counting.

“No. We’re all accounted for.” Kirigiri's voice cuts through the hubbub. “But we better get moving. It’s not a good idea to defy him here and now.”

Her words help snap people into action. He walks on ahead, ignoring Makoto, who had begun to drift over to him. He still needed to maintain some semblance of normality, after all, and having the other boy hover over him too much would grow too annoying. That conversation from breakfast was still on his mind.

The gymnasium is the same as he last remembers it, save for the removal of Enoshima’s body. From what he can tell, even the floorboards that had been pierced through have been replaced. How meticulous. He wonders if it was Monokuma that took care of the repair, and is struck by the sudden ridiculous image of the bear toddling around with a box of tools and some wooden blanks before wondering if there was something wrong with his head beyond his eyesight.

Speaking of Monokuma, the insufferable toy wasn’t here yet. The others murmur among each other, uneasy and on edge.

“What could he possibly want?” Ishimaru wonders aloud. His unusually relaxed, easygoing demeanor from earlier today was gone, replaced with the stiff, high-energy nervousness that he usually displayed around Monokuma.

“Indeed. What might await us this time?” Celeste hums, calm as ever.

Nothing good, I’m sure. He thinks to himself. But really, there was only one possibility that was in his mind.

“It’s likely a new motive.” He says, and at that, a hush falls over the group. They all knew what that meant.

“A-a-a-” Yamada trembles where he stands. “A new motive?!”

“Nooo…not again!” Yasuhiro moans, hands fisting in his own hair. “And not after the earthquakes last night!”

The ripple of anxiety that had been running through the group is interrupted by confusion. “...Earthquakes?” Makoto asks.

“Yeah! There was, like, a lot of rumbling last night.” The clairvoyant nods emphatically, hair bouncing like the branches of a tree. “I was sitting around in the main hall last night, meditating, when I suddenly heard a lot of, like, loud booms and stuff. I totally thought it was construction or something at first.”

“Construction…?” Asahina tilts her head. “Would it be the mastermind trying to build something?”

“I mean, I don’t know if it was construction for sure. It was just, like, kinda loud, you know?” He waves his hands, as if trying to support just how ‘loud’ it was by movement alone. “Like, I’m surprised no one else heard it!”

“The rooms are all soundproof.” Kirigiri interjects now. “Most of the rest of us were in our rooms by ten o’clock.”

“Y-yeah, I know, but- wait, does this make me seem suspicious? But no one’s even dead!” The few shreds of interesting information he had to offer were gone, and now all he spewed were inane words again. “I just lost track of time and was staring off into space! Serious!”

They continue to prattle on, and Byakuya tunes them out. Construction noises…he’s not sure what it could imply. Nothing good, surely, if there’s been no sign of the rescue that Asahina had talked about earlier, then that meant the mastermind’s domain extended past the mere limits of the school - the noises Yasuhiro heard were also supportive of that.

“Hey hey heyy, everyone!! What’s everyone talkin’ about?”

A voice pierces the air, and they turn just in time to see Monokuma vaulting onto the podium. It’s a cartoonish sight, but Byakuya feels tense, an uneasy chill building at the base of his neck. And judging by the sudden stilling of the others around him, it seemed that he wasn’t alone in this reaction.

“What Hiro heard wasn't the sound of construction...but it could have been an explosion!” The thing laughs. “Or maybe a machine gun! Puhuhu...That can kinda sound like construction in a way!”

“What are you talking about…?” Makoto asks, and Monokuma rolls over in another fit of giggles.

“Ah-ah-ah! You won’t get that out of me so easily! You might as well try gutting me for stuffing first!” It wags a paw at them. “It’s a secret little secret, y’hear?? And speaking of secrets…”

It digs behind its back for a moment, and seemingly out of nowhere, produces a stack of what looks like large, blank, white cards, fanned out in its paws like a blackjack hand. “Ta-dah!!”

Byakuya fights the urge to squint. Subtly, he steps quietly over to Makoto’s side. “What’s it holding,” He hisses quietly.

“Envelopes…with our names on them?” As Makoto responds in a whisper, Monokuma tosses the envelopes, and they scatter over the floor.

“Everyone pick up yours!” The headmaster orders, and a few people hesitantly obey. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it~!”

Damn. Byakuya stares at the mess of papers scattered around them. He could crawl on hands and knees for a million years, and never find it… “Why should we?” He snarks, glaring at Monokuma. “What’s this all about, anyways?”

“Ohh, good question, little heir!” The bear nods, like a pleased teacher contemplating an enthusiastic student’s question. “Well, if you don’t want to hurry and grab your envelope just yet, I suppose I’ll give you an explanation. You see, I’m a bit bored these days…every single day is so blah and humbug, you know? I’m suuuree you understand!” It waddles, kicking at a few of the envelopes at its feet. “Gosh, it’s got me so frustrated, I’m about to start tugging all my threads out…that’s how bad I want some stimulation, y’hear?! Something rife with danger and intrigue!!”

With those words, Byakuya feels that dread, cold and dripping, crawling down his back. Somewhere behind him, Owada snarls. “The fuck’re you getting at? Spit it out!”

“Patient, be paa-tient! Goodness, it’s not good to be so angry all the time!” Monokuma shakes its head. “But I’m a good headmaster, so I suppose I’ll just go ahead and be frank for my eager lil’ students. Y’see, it’s taking too long for another blackened to show up, and I’m getting so, so, sosososo bored…so, I’ve come up with a new way to motivate you all!” It twirls, and gestures once more towards the envelopes. “This time, I’ve collected up some of everyone’s most embarrassing memories and secrets! And I wrote them up and put them into pretty little envelopes for you all to read through!”

The chill in his back turns icy, and his gaze flicks down to the envelopes scattered on the hardwood floor. Around him, he can hear others diving for their envelopes, snatching them up hurriedly - but he can’t move. Even if he tries, he won’t find it - he can only hope that Makoto had found his, and wouldn’t betray him by reading it. Or else…

And others have started reading already. He hears gasps, terror, disbelief, the crumpling of paper. Before him, Monokuma looks up, tilting its face in an impression of curiosity.

“Oh? What’s this? Not moving?” It reaches out and pats at his knee, and he takes an involuntary step back, disgusted. “What, are you Jesus or something? Free of sin? You think you have no dark or dirty secrets to hide?”

Ironically, it was this stupid taunt that brought him back from his growing panic. Calm down, he snaps at himself. He’d do himself no favors making a fool of himself here.

He forces his face into a sneer. “I’m not the kind of person to be moved to kill by such a pathetic motive.” He says loudly, so everyone else could hear. “You’ll have to do better to make me participate in such a miserable excuse for a game.”

“Still not impressed, I see? Such a shame…” Monokuma looks down, apparently unhappy by this declaration. “And I worked so hard on these too…oh well. Whether or not you look at it matters, if you don’t mind someone else reading it…right, Miss Fukawa?”

There’s a squeak. Byakuya’s head jerks to the right, where he remembers seeing Fukawa last. Sure enough, the girl is hastily shoving something back into an envelope - one of two envelopes, that she has clutched in her hands-

He’s crossed the space between them before he’s even aware of what’s happening, and grabs the envelope out of her hands, fingers crumpling the paper. Before him, Fukawa flinches and cows, shrinking down. “U-um, I didn’t-I was just…”

He glares, and her words die out. Behind him, Monokuma cackles. “Puhuhu! Oh, that’s too good!” It rolls on the floor with laughter, feet kicking merrily. “This is just like a reality drama! …But, it’s not what I’m after.”

The toy wiggles its legs for a moment, then toddles back onto its feet. “Everyone! You have twenty-four hours! If no one is blackened by then, I’ll reveal everyone’s secret to the whole, wide world! Wouldn’t that be so embarrassing??”

“We’d never kill over something like this!” Makoto’s voice pipes up. He’s standing there, hands clenched at his sides. “Sure, this is something I’d rather not want people to know, but…it’s not something to take someone else’s life over!”

There’s a brief pause, and then a small chorus of agreement. “He’s right!” Ishimaru shouts. “Your plan is doomed from the start! No one’s going to murder someone for this kind of thing!”

“Oh, is that what you really think?” The air in the room seems to chill by several degrees. Monokuma’s voice, previously playful and lighthearted, suddenly takes a sinister tone. “Well…whatever! If that’s the case, I’ll be revealing anyone’s secrets in twenty-four hours anyways, to make myself feel a little better. Everyone…farenotwell!”

And he turns, waddles off, and disappears into the depths of the gym.

In the end, they decide to simply ignore it.

Perhaps ‘ignore’ is the wrong turn of phrase here. Byakuya thinks bitterly, as he watches the other begin walking out. In truth, they had hesitantly tried suggesting sharing secrets now, to eliminate the motive, but several (including himself) were strongly opposed to the idea.

In the end, Ishimaru sent them off with a hesitant, awkward suggestion to ‘not act too hastily’, which was about as much as he could offer in this situation. Byakuya grabs Fukawa’s shoulder as she begins to leave, feeling his skin crawl at the very touch of her.

“Ah- huh?! Um…” Her head jerks, between him and the door, and begins squirming in her shoes. “M-mister Byakuya…”

“Give me your envelope.” He says coldly, and she freezes. “Well?”

“U-um…I can’t…” He grabs it from her hand, and she squeals. “W-wait-! L-let me prepare my h-heart-”

“Makoto.” He turns to the boy standing a ways behind him. “Come here.”

Makoto trots over, and Byakuya thrusts both envelopes in his face. “Which one?”

“Uh…” He hesitates for a moment, then points to the one that Byakuya had already been holding.

Byakuya shoves Fukawa’s envelope back towards her, and she fumbles for it a little too late. It flutters to the ground. “Stay away from me.” He spits. “And if I hear any whisper about the contents of this envelope, I’ll make you regret ever being born. Do you understand?”

He turns before she can respond, marching towards the door. Makoto’s footsteps dog after him.

“H-hey, wasn’t that a little…harsh?” He asks, quietly. Byakuya shakes his head.

“Hardly.” He grits out. If anything, he should have been harsher. His hand is still clenched tight around the envelope, the edges digging into his palm. The fury from earlier simmers; he could hardly believe the audacity that girl had dared to have.

He doesn’t even know what was written in his own envelope, and he doesn’t think he’s interested in reading it either. At the very surface level, it would be something about the blood competition that his family had held for the title of heir, and the lengths he had gone through to win it. If the mastermind had been really scouring for something embarrassing, he supposes it could detail about how he once spent a period of his life disguised as Polaris, though that was hard information to come by. Either one would be annoying to deal with once revealed, but it wouldn’t kill him. It was hardly the worst thing a Togami has done in the course of history, and as heir, any such information would be suppressed before it could reach any important ears.

But, it would be considered a blunder on my part. A blot on his perfect record. He chews at the inside of his cheek, feeling the raw and bloody flesh from the other day run over the grooves of his teeth. To allow such a thing to happen would reflect poorly upon him, draw doubt onto his position.

It’s not like killing was the better option, however.

He sighs, and stuffs the paper into his pocket. Better to put it out of his mind for now; if time runs out and it gets revealed, he’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with it then. He’s gotten out of tighter spots. And no matter how much he and Makoto had smoothed things over, he still couldn’t trust the boy to the degree of having him read it out to him, especially if it was a secret that could affect the family name.

For the time being, it was time to go to bed, and mull it over in his sleep.

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff chapters #thpff #danganronpa fanfiction #byakuya togami #trial 1 went similar to canon but don't expect the same for trial 2!!!!!#makoto spent his days without byakuya doing free time events but noticeably bummed the whole time #everyone thinks they're dating or something. or that byakuya's stringing him along. so on and so forth #some of them are rootingn for him to forget byakuya and move on (to kyoko most likely)#others are rooting for them to get back together #others are just observing for the hot goss and drama #toko has also noticed these rumors. hence her weird creepiness. she's trying to be more forward here

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homeofhousechickens · 8 months

Note

My 15 week old chickens don’t like treats, why is that? My previous flock went crazy for treats and would demolish them but these guys only take a nibble or two of things like fruits and pasta before leaving. They eat their chicken food and plants they find while foraging so I’m not worried, just confused. The only treats they accept are mealworms, they love those. What chicken doesn’t like snacks?

Sometimes flocks can get weird about treats. Chickens don't necessarily need treats if they have a good feed but it can be a bit sad if they don't want them. I would suggest making sure you offer treats at the same time every day. Chickens love routine and in the security of that routine they might be willing to try new things. Or you could just offer the treats in their run or yard a few hours after you feed them to see if they will try it. Chickens are extremely competitive so if one of them starts showing interest in the snacks they will all quickly change their mind about ignoring it in my experience.

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solarwynd · 5 months

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see i know there's tens of people commenting same shit on members'lives but i still think at one point you can simply choose to answer some good ones and ignore the rest.

I know jm's no of lives are way too less than jk's but when he comes live he just reads some here and there comments, then even of he reads about any member he always has something positive to say about them like always and he includes all the seven members in his every live meaning he talks about all 7 of them.

but jk? Man's gonna read weardest cmnt like "jeon jimin" and will act dense like what was the need to read that comment two times on two lives? Then he also read a cmnt saying "when are you going to live with taehyung" and he was like "me....?? You mean when i was going to live with taehyung?" And just laughed it off like what is that reaction even? He's never clear with his reactions always giving some vague answers so people can create their own interpretation out of it. Now comapre it to jm's lives he reads decent comments and answers pretty much straight like when someone asked him "if jk made him ramyeon" jm is like "no" or"not yet" something. And that one time he started reading that chocolate factory joke (idk what it is) but left it middle when he understood what it means. He doesn't feed any y/n(like when ppl says you're mine he goes I'm my own or similar type of things he's done many times), nor DeLuSiOnAl shippers nor anyone else. He's straight with his answers and his things.

if after 10 yrs you're still relying on shippers then you're simply not an artist bro.

I mean it just comes down to jimin just being more mature than jk is really and people don’t give that to his credit because he’s cute and comes off as playful but he is. He’s the type of person I’d go to for insightful advice or a heart to heart. Jk isn’t. He’s self serving and surface level. You even get this from the interviews he’s done. But I’ve come to the thought that maybe that’s the way he feels he can connect with fans best which is on a superficial level because that works best for him. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Jimin’s also just very real, for lack of a better word. He’s already said that he doesn’t necessarily owe the members or the fan’s anything in an interview and I’m glad he’s set that boundary. he’s carved out a very beyonce type work ethic and dynamic and I love that for him. Just trying to be the best artist he can be showing love to the fans in a natural sincere way and keeping his own peace of mind by not being on socmed 25/8 and focusing on him.

#and imo jimin doesn’t really have y/ns #I’m sure they exist but 99.9% of his stans are here for the music and him as a person #I say this confidently

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joels-shitty-puns · 3 months

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hi a!

i’m back with another “gentle reminders” ask. it goes in line with one of my personal goals this year of trying to work on my kindness and how i show that kindness to others.

the beginning of a new year is always a bit tough for many people, for many reasons but at the scale of the fandom, i have noticed some negativity starting to spread. maybe it’s bound to happen on any social media but i always considered tumblr to be different, to be over the kind of discourse you could find on other apps. this place has been a true haven for many of us and i would like to keep it that way, so i thought, as a way to counterbalance this negativity, i could compensate with a nice message for one of the driving forces in the fandom: our dear writers.

i would like to begin by saying thank you. thank you for dedicating your time, your energy, your love and sharing pieces of yourself with us. the fandom wouldn’t be what it is without you: just like a body needs a brain or a heart to function properly, fandoms need writers like they need others contributing. thank you for offering diversity, engaging with different tropes and characters to reach as many readers as possible. i will admit, some things proposed are not my cup of tea but i know they can be enjoyed by others, the same way some of my favorite fics wouldn’t necessarily attract others. so thank you for giving a chance to everyone to find what they enjoy, to discover, to learn, to cry, to laugh, to love and to be able to do so in an open, safe space. thank you for interacting with us as well. thank you for responding to our questions, sharing snippets when we get impatient, teasing us with your new ideas and making life a little more fun and exciting every day. and of course, thank you for doing all of this for free. for expecting so little in return when you give us so much.

now a few things i want you to remember:

although we’re all thankful for having access to your art, your first fan should be yourself. write what you enjoy, write that self-indulgent fic, write your favorite trope, an improbable duo or crossover because you’ve always wanted to. do it for yourself. in the same way, have fun with it. writing is a hobby, it’s not your job, it’s not supposed to be a chore. so do what makes you happy. don’t worry about updating fics, about being slow, about posting too much or too little. some things might take time, some might need an hour to be posted but in the end, they all matter just the same. they’re worth being read and cherished and we will appreciate them. whether you have thousands of notes or barely a few hundreds, you have your place here. you’re still an amazing writer, you’re still an artist regardless of the stats.

whether i've had time to binge-read your stories or just discovered you. thank you. i love you. i’m grateful for you. i see and appreciate your work. your efforts. you. i’m sorry if you’ve ever been received with negativity but i hope this can make up for some of it. you deserve nothing but kindness and appreciation and i hope you know how much you matter here.

sending you all my love,

anna 💗

ANNA!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 You're gonna make me cry. This was so sweet and meaningful. I needed this ❤️ thank you. The same goes to you as well. I hope you know how amazing you are. I love seeing you pop up on my feed. ❤️ You're important and wonderful and what you're doing here with these messages is so kind and special. Thank you.

I love you ❤️

#A's mailbox #crying #😭❤️

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space-writes · 10 months

Text

OC interview tag

tagged this time by @ahordeofwasps, thank you! (also you can check out my previous interviews with Sorrow, Vren, and Lucian)

This time it’s Aliyne’s turn. She doesn’t like talking about herself any more than Vren does, but that’s tough luck because it’s my brain she’s living in rent free. I’m going to answer this as she is at the start of the books - let’s go!

Are you named after anyone?

Not that I know of. Then again, I never really got much of a chance to ask.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Are you going to make me be honest about this? Ugh, fine — a few days ago, when I had to choose, again, between a roof and a meal. Chose the meal, obviously, and I’ve got some work now, which provides a roof, so that’s neat for the next few weeks anyway.

3. Do you have kids?

Gods no.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

No, that would be such a childish thing to do, people never take you seriously if you use sarcasm.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

What they’re carrying. Weapons, coin pouch, clothing, stuff like that. How guarded they about it all. How aware they are of their belongings. Most people, turns out, don’t pay nearly enough attention.

Look, I’m trying to notice things like how nice their hair is or whatever instead, but it’s just. Instinct. Alright?

6. What's your eye color?

Dark brown.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I don’t necessarily agree with fun and happy endings, but they’re nice. Least the fictional characters get to have a good time.

8. Any special talents?

…picking pockets. Also climbing things, and getting away from people.

9. Where were you born?

Maziz Province, in Jamarda. That’s out in eastern Mohaade, near the Border Mountains of the Wilds.

10. What are your hobbies?

Um. Knife throwing, I guess? Does climbing count as a hobby? I like getting up someplace high, so I can see everything.

11. Have you any pets?

Nah, I haven’t really been in a place to look after anything other than myself. I used to feed the stray cats in Zhirasea sometimes, but Vren kept telling me not to bother because a) they can hunt for themselves if they’re so hungry, and b) I’m cat enough, apparently. But he’s an ass, so one day I’m going to get a cat just to spite him.

Not that he even remembers I’m alive.

…holy shit I’m going to name it after him. That would piss him off so bad. Hah! Get cat-named, idiot. Serves you right.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

No official sports, but we played at chase and catch in Jamarda, and in Zhirasea. Running over the roofs, climbing on people’s balconies, stuff like that. Nearly broke my leg once—got my foot stuck in a stupid railing when I jumped.

You’ve never seen Vren move so fast. Mother hen. I would’ve been fine.

13. How tall are you?

Five foot four, and look, it makes me harder to hit, okay? It makes people underestimate you when you’re the same height as the average fourteen year old, and it makes it easier to get in places you aren’t supposed to be.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Ughhh, leaving. You’d think growing up in a literal crime family means you don’t have to do boring shit like sit in a room and learn how numbers work, but no. I mean, it’s useful, and I guess I should be glad they taught me, because not everyone gets to learn but also. Counter-argument. School is boring as fuck.

15. Dream job?

Wealthy businesswoman. The kind who has a fleet of caravans—or a ship, even—and I just get to sit in my huge house and sign papers and threaten people who try to cross me, and the money just rolls on in.

No-pressure tagging @hallwriteblr @annachronisms @ivorygarcia and @saltwaterbells (and anyone else who wants to do it, feel free to tag me!)

#valloroth blogging #writeblr #tag games #oc interview #c: aliyne #love my grumpy girl so much #she's a snarky little shit #which. to be expected given that Vren was her closest family for years #also great timing for me to do this having just finished aliyne's intro post ^_^

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voraciousvore · 4 months

Text

The Half-Blood Giant (39/51)

***Contains soft, safe, unwilling vore***

Chapter 39: A Wolf among Sheep

As much as Hunter would just love to lay down and bask in the sublime feeling of Hannah crawling around in his digestive system, he needed to go to class. He couldn’t raise suspicions by ditching class, after all. He stood up and felt the small weight in his belly topple over with his motion. He was amazed that he could feel every subtle gesture and movement of his cherished human prisoner from within. He hoped, with time and forced proximity, Hannah would get to know him and learn to accept him. Maybe even love him.

Hannah cooperated and stayed quiet in his stomach, even when she was jostled around when the giant walked or shifted. She was petrified that Hunter would make good on his threats to digest her or harm Hector. Besides, she didn’t think anybody would be able to hear her pleas for help on the outside. She felt like she was in a waking nightmare, with the living flesh churning, pulsing, and gurgling around her. Everything was hot, putrid, sopping wet, squishy, and alive with sound and movement. As nervous and uneasy as she had been living with giants, she never believed that one of her classmates would go so far as to devour her. The whole situation was so ghastly.

She wished she wasn’t in total blackness, yet at the same time she didn’t necessarily want to have burned into her memory visions of the interior of the wrinkly pink sack encompassing her. The bones, clothing, and food floating in the bubbling puddle with her eventually disintegrated and disappeared into the next stage of digestion. Hannah was grateful to be alive, and not torn apart by teeth or acid, yet she was unsure how long she’d have to endure this abysmal torture.

Unfortunately for poor Hannah, Hunter had no intention to let her out anytime soon. With her inside, he wasn’t plagued with hunger. He was satisfied and full, and he loved the sublime feeling. His magic could hold out indefinitely when he felt so refreshed: He theorized he could keep her alive for several days, if not weeks, in his belly, if he was so inclined. He’d have to let her out occasionally to feed and water her, at the minimum, since he doubted she’d be able to survive on food and fluids he ingested himself.

Hunter’s intention wasn’t to be excessively cruel. He wasn’t trying to punish or torture her. He just couldn’t resist the temptation her divinely flavored flesh offered. He was designed to eat humans, so having a human within him felt right. He would let her out when he felt like it, perhaps afterschool in a secluded area. Besides, he still wanted to interact with her, pet her, kiss her, admire her, show her how much he adored her. Once she understood she belonged to him, maybe she’d forget about Hector and learn to love him instead. He’d be her provider, her benevolent captor, and take care of her every need. She wouldn’t have to worry about school or the stresses of life any longer. He would be her entire world.

After a few hours of stewing in his belly, Hannah had reached her wit’s end. She had a mental breakdown during lunch, when Hunter ate more food and a slew of masticated slop rained down on her. The giant drank some milk and the cold liquid drained into his stomach, drenching her. While the temperature provided some relief from the heat, being soaked in saliva-infused milk was not fun. Hannah started to cry again at her misfortune.

“Hunter, I can’t take this anymore! Please! Let me out! Throw me up or something!” she wailed. “I’m going insane! How long are you going to keep me in here and torture me like this?”

“As long as I please,” Hunter’s voice boomed back. The deafening volume made her flinch as the sound reverberated through the spacious cavity.

“Take pity on me! Help me! I thought you cared about me! Let me out!” Hannah begged hysterically, her supplications rising to a fever pitch. “I’ll do anything! Please!”

“Shut up,” Hunter warned. He didn’t want her making too much noise, even if her voice was barely discernible even with his own hearing. He wasn’t going to take any risks.

Hannah was past the point of reason, however. She continued to scream and cry and beg. Hunter grit his teeth. He didn’t want to do this to her, but he didn’t have much of a choice, if she defied him. With a flick of his fingers, he reduced the potency of the protective spell, not enough to kill the poor girl but sufficient for her to experience the dangers of his digestive system. Hannah gasped as the air grew thinner and the acid stung her skin and burned her eyes and nose. Hunter clenched his stomach around her, and Hannah shrieked as the fleshy walls collapsed on her and squeezed her.

“Stop!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, even as her senses began to fade into gray static. “Alright! I get it!” Hunter restored the spell to full potency and relaxed his belly back to its default state. Hannah labored to breathe as her wits came rushing back. She knew she was entirely at Hunter’s mercy. He could kill her at any moment. She maintained an obedient hush.

“There, that’s much better,” Hunter praised. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You don’t have to do anything. Just stay quiet.” Hannah didn’t respond. She was beyond terrified as she realized how close she was to dying. Hunter finished his lunch as if nothing had happened and went to his last class of the day.

The disappearance of the three human students that Hunter ingested did not go unnoticed. There wasn’t a large number of human students at the school, so all the humans knew each other. Hector’s friends were concerned that he never returned to the dorm after school, especially when his girlfriend came looking for him. He didn’t show up to his classes either. The human girls noticed that Amber was missing too, and hadn’t gone to her classes. Hannah had been seen that morning, but her teachers noted her absence. With the ugly history of human students going missing, Milton didn’t hesitate. He called the police.

Ray and Joey were sent to investigate, since they had been critical in solving the case with the missing students in the past. The first thing they did was check the security cameras. The cameras didn’t cover the entire campus, but they did guard the entrance with the big metal gate. The footage didn’t show any unwelcome strangers entering the school grounds in the timeframe of the disappearances, nor did the missing students leave. Thus, Joey reasoned that either the students were still on campus somewhere, or if there was foul play involved, somebody who worked at or attended the school was responsible.

Milton was disturbed by this revelation, but he doubted anyone on his staff would be so cold-blooded as to steal or kill a human student. Hopefully, the humans were still alive and well on campus. Joey and Ray did some investigating to find out where each student was last seen. All the students had attended their classes yesterday, through the end of the day. However, Hector and Amber had disappeared afterwards. Through interviews with the human students, Joey and Ray discovered the connection between Hannah and Hector, and that Hannah had been looking for her boyfriend yesterday after school. Thus, he had gone missing somewhere between the end of the school day and when he was supposed to meet his girlfriend after school.

However, the officers couldn’t tell if the connection was coincidental or not. They couldn’t establish a clear link between Hector, Hannah, and Amber beyond the fact that they were all humans. Where did Amber fit in? Reportedly, she had stayed in the library after school to study, but nobody had accompanied her there or seen her after that. The librarian had left early, before the end of classes, so she hadn’t seen the student at all. Her story was corroborated by the cameras.

During the interviews, Joey asked the students if there was anyone who might want to harm any of the humans. Inevitably, Hunter’s name came up. Many of the students reported that he seemed to stare at Hannah a lot, and he’d bullied her during class. He was also seen with Hector more than was typical. He was characterized as a human-hater, an outcast, a beast who was dangerous and universally feared among the human population. They had never seen him with Amber, though. Joey puzzled over how she fit into the story.

He brought up Hunter to Milton, and the principal blanched. “Oh, Hunter... I hope he’s not responsible for all this.”

Joey tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“He’s been prone to behavioral problems and violent altercations with other students, both human and giant. He grabbed Hannah during class without her permission and frightened her. He also threatened to eat Mr. Pablo.”

“What?” Ray exclaimed, bristling with anger. Pedro hadn’t mentioned any of this to him.

“Can we interview him?” Joey asked. Milton nodded and went to fetch the student. When the principal returned, the two officers were startled by the absolute unit of a giant that trailed behind him. Hunter was massive, easily thirty feet taller than Milton, who was already a very big giant in his own right. But the teenager wasn’t just absurdly tall: He was broad and muscular as well. He bled off a hostile, sullen aura. When he saw the officers in the room, he stopped in his tracks.

“What’s all this about?” Hunter demanded to know, squinting his cold eyes. Ray glared back at him.

“Have a seat, Hunter,” Joey requested. “We just have a few questions for you.” Hunter slowly sank into a chair, tension in his back and limbs. He gripped the armrests of his chair with meaty hands.

“What’s your relationship with Hector and Hannah?” Joey began.

Hunter’s features betrayed some nervous energy, but he recovered quickly. “They’re my classmates.” He didn’t offer any more information, lapsing into his characteristic reticent attitude.

Joey beckoned with his hand, slightly exasperated. “And...?”

“I’m not especially close to either of them. I don’t fraternize with humans if I can help it.” As he spoke, his hand trailed down to his belly, which audibly whined. “I’m sure Principal Henderson has told you, I don’t like humans. I did pick up Hannah and mess with her during class, but it was nothing personal. I didn’t know her at the time.”

“Why would you do something like that?” Ray questioned.

Hunter shrugged. “I just wanted to prove a point related to the lesson. I did apologize to her later. We haven’t had a problem since.”

“What about Hector?”

“I met him though Hannah. We’ve been on friendly terms. Hector has always been nice to me.” Technically not a complete lie.

“Do you know a student named Amber?”

Hunter stared blankly. “Who?”

“Small human girl with long ginger hair?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Hm. Okay.” Joey scribbled some notes on his scratchpad.

“Can I go now?” Hunter asked with an edge of impatience.

“One more question.” Joey leaned forward, pushing up his glasses and clasping his hands together. “Where were you yesterday after class?”

“I went to the cafeteria, took a walk around campus, and retired to my dorm to do homework and sleep,” Hunter answered smoothly. “Nothing special.”

Joey gave him a penetrating gaze before excusing him. Hunter got up out of his chair and lumbered off. Joey had an unsettling feeling in his gut as he watched the hulking brute of a teenager leave the room. That boy was trouble. “You need to keep a close eye on him, Mr. Henderson,” he remarked. “There’s something off about that kid.” Milton nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, Joey was right.

Once Hunter was out of earshot of the office, he pressed his fist into his gut angrily. “Be quiet, you stupid bitch,” he muttered gruffly. She’d almost exposed him with all the racket she was making. He halted in his tracks when he heard a high-pitched squeak at his feet. Hunter had been so angry, he hadn’t been paying any attention to where he was stepping. He looked down to see Pedro staring up at him with wide eyes. Hunter froze, hoping Pedro hadn’t noticed him talking to Hannah.

“What are you looking at?” he growled. Pedro’s face turned pasty and he scurried out of Hunter’s path, back to his own office. Hunter kept walking, pushing his knuckles harder into his abdomen and squeezing his insides. He glanced around to make sure he was alone this time. “Just for that, Hannah, I’m not letting you out for the rest of the day. Unless you decide to be quiet and obedient. Then, MAYBE I’ll consider it.”

Pedro continued to his office, shaking. Hunter scared him. The teenager seemed like he was becoming more and more unhinged by the day. He perked up when he heard the familiar bass rumble of Ray’s voice echoing down the hall from Milton’s office. He followed the heartening sound to its handsome source.

“Hey, Ray! You’re here early!” Pedro chirped to announce his presence. He looked over at the other officer. “Joey? You’re here too? Did something happen?”

“Pedro! Just the person we wanted to see!” Ray replied with enthusiasm as he scooped his little boyfriend off the floor. He deposited him in his lap, petting him gently on the side of his face. “Did you hear about the missing students?”

“No!” Pedro cried. “Students have gone missing? How horrible!”

Joey leaned over, examining Pedro closely. “You work with the human students, right?” Pedro confirmed with a nod. “The students missing are Hector, Hannah, and Amber. Do you know them, or what they may have in common?”

“Yes, I’ve spoken to each student,” Pedro confirmed. “Hector and Hannah are in a romantic relationship together. I don’t think they were in the same friend group as Amber, but the human students are a close-knit community, so they all knew each other.”

Joey listened carefully, but Pedro hadn’t told him any new information. “What about that giant student, Hunter?”

Pedro shuddered at the mention of his name. “He’s a scary guy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he threatened to eat you?” Ray interjected sternly.

Pedro flushed. “I-I didn’t want you to worry.” He sighed. “He’s a troubled loner. Mentally and emotionally unstable. I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt someone if he snapped...” He gulped at the though of those giant hands breaking a human in half like a twig.

“Did he ever interact with Amber, as far as you know?” Joey asked.

“Yes, actually,” Pedro informed the officers. “He stomped in the bike lane and knocked her off her bike.”

Joey and Ray exchanged glances. “So he was lying,” Ray said. He looked down at Pedro. “Hunter claimed not to know her.”

“He might not know her name,” Pedro pointed out. “Just because he bullied her once doesn’t mean he knows who she is.”

“Do you think... he might be responsible for the disappearances?” Ray inquired.

“I could see him doing... something like that,” Pedro admitted, huddling into the safety of Ray’s curled fingers in his lap. He hated the thought of a giant harming little humans.

“It’s possible,” Joey agreed. “But we don’t have any evidence to prove it or know for sure. We’ll have to keep investigating.”

Chapter 40

Chapter 1

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blueknightdg · 8 months

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Giving Adrien the Butterfly miraculous huh? I still want Grubby to be a villain, but not initially being a super powered villain would be interesting.

I was thinking of him being the first actual villain that gets usurped by Lila to cement her role as hero, but maybe instead it was Emily that was a dying woman desperately trying to have a son that painted her as a villain that was “defeated” by Lila and have the peahen taken by her.

Sooo

Hm…

Grubby is a villain but he is a behind the scenes kind of villain that is publicly sponsoring Lila but really wants revenge because he blames her for Emily finally passing and puts pressure on Adrien because she gave up everything to have him so he should at least live up to her legacy, right?

Emily wasn’t necessarily evil but she did have gray morals.

I want the hero’s (the actual good guys fighting Lila) to have the least amount of Miraculi at the start.

Hm..

Well it’s more like people have miraculous but not necessarily working together or know who each other are.

Not all missing miraculous is in use or used for good.

Some are small villains or heroes on their own.

Lila has her own minions teammates she has do things for her or in her place when she has to control the amok. She can’t always be in the same place with a copy as it is draining.

She can’t handle two miraculi for long and has to do on and off sometimes.

How Adrien and Marinette team up?

Working on it.

I still don’t have a name for the AU.

Maybe something to do with struggle? Marinette fighting a battle that will end in her death? Maybe she doesn’t necessarily die?

Lila is the “heroine” (main villainess)

Grubby is her “sponsor” (secondary villain)

Marinette is the “villainess” (actual heroine)

I’m calling Gabriel “Grubby” and no one can stop me.

Chloe is a “heroine” with a different miraculous as the bee wasn’t lost and is sponsored by her father, the mayor. She doesn’t know how to use her powers very well and is often doing nothing but taking selfies and doing ads.

Sometimes she has to do promotions with Lila and they hate each other.

Chloe hasn’t figured out she can demand the kwami to do things surprisingly. She simply doesn’t try to talk to them majority of the time. She has someone else feed the kwami and avoid each other as much as they physically can.

#marinette #ladybug #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #au #adrian #Adrien #miraculous au #chloe bourgeois

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theoreticslut · 2 years

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What advice would you give to people just starting out writing on tumblr to help grow their blog and reach people?

Hi lovely! Thank you for the question! This got a little long, but I hope you can find even one thing in it that helps!

First and foremost, write what you want and what makes you happy. If you truly enjoy what you’re writing, then others will enjoy it too! We feed off of each other’s excitement when it comes to content, I swear.

However, interacting with other writers/bloggers can also help! Having mutuals, or just other writers you’re friendly with, whose work you read and reblog (& leave nice comments on), grants the potential that they will do the same for you - especially if you ask them about it. I know I’ve read and reblogged different fics solely bc the author reached out to me, and I’m pretty sure a decent majority of other writers do the same. We understand the struggle of getting our work/content out there, so most are willing to help as long as you do the same.

I also think that taking the time to reply to those that read and comment on your work has an effect, though. Showing your gratitude and answering others make you seem more approachable, which can help readers feel more comfortable reading and hopefully reblogging more of your works. Reblogs are huge when it comes to getting your work out there, so you definitely want to do whatever you can to get those. Personally, I find answering others (especially those that reblogged the fic w/ their comment) helps, as does doing “timezone reblogs” or “self reblogs.” Even reblogging your own work helps to get it out on people’s dashes.

Lastly, I think a key think about getting people to your blog and staying is to just be active. You don’t necessarily need to post a fic every day, but reblogging others fics/gif sets/art/headcanons/etc will help to draw people to your blog. They’ll follow you for the things you reblog, and then when you post your own work, then they’ll typically read that too because it’s there.

Essentially you need to be active, interactive, and to get reblogs - which I will not lie is hard to do at times, but through interacting with other writers and gaining mutuals, the reblogs will eventually come. Aside from this though, I’m not sure what other advice I can give you. Just remember to write what you want, and try not to get discouraged if you don’t get immediate interaction on your works. It takes time to reach people, but as long as you keep doing what you enjoy and reach out to others, it’ll get there.

I wish you the absolute best of luck in growing your blog, and I am always here if you’d like someone to potentially help get you started. I love reading other’s fanfics, and will happily reblog your fic with a nice comment for you!

+ If any other writers have different/better advice, pls feel free to add onto this! Xx

#holly’s replies #anon asks #tumblr writers #fanfic writer #fanfic writing #writing advice #tumblr advice

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mariacallous · 1 year

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It’s so nice that everything’s back to normal at the office now, isn’t it? If “normal” means mass layoffs, empty office buildings, confusing return-to-office policies, AI panic, and the whiplash-y feeling that just when employees were starting to redraw some boundaries between work and home, an economic downturn has forced society to fret even more about work. Managers are channeling this too by emphasizing “efficiency”—at least if they’re not among the many managers Mark Zuckerberg has laid off in his quest for, well, efficiency.

In this sense, Simone Stolzoff’s new book couldn’t be better-timed. The Good Enough Job: Reclaiming Life from Work posits that we—and Americans, especially—have fetishized work to the point that we’ve lost our identities to it. “For white-collar professionals, jobs have become akin to a religious identity: In addition to a paycheck, they provide meaning, community, and a sense of purpose,” says Stolzoff, a designer who has worked at IDEO and written for The Atlantic, Quartz, and WIRED.

The book kicks off with a parable about an MBA type urging a fisherman to scale his business into a global operation. The fisherman replies that he already has what the MBA is promising he could achieve in the long term: enough success to feed himself and his family, as well as plenty of time for leisure. The MBA is, of course, befuddled. It’s a tiny but meaningful story that goes down as easy as an oyster; the book makes a tasty meal of snackable tales and anecdotes.

The Good Enough Job, which I’ve been reading this week, also includes reporting on the decline of organized religion, the rise of always-online work culture, and our willingness to use work as a means of self-actualization. It all adds up to a stark portrait of a society truly obsessed with work. That’s risky, Stolzoff says, especially in light of the recent layoffs in the tech sector. I talked with him about our relationship to work and whether it’s possible to achieve any kind of work-life equilibrium in the modern era. The book comes out in the US on May 23.

WIRED: Why is office work so weird right now? Assuming you agree that it is, in fact, weird.

Simone Stolzoff: Yeah. I’m reminded of when I worked as a summer camp counselor growing up and during our training the camp’s director always said, “Kids’ biggest fear is that no one is in control.” And I think that is happening for office workers right now, without a clear mandate or a clear vision of what the future of the workplace looks like. It feels like everything is in flux. Managers are dealing with their own uncertainty around the reevaluation of the role of work in their lives while they’re also trying to be leaders and speak with confidence about a future that no one can really predict.

Just yesterday someone told me, “I am a manager and my employees are coming to me and being forthright about the fact that they’re updating their LinkedIn profiles and their resumes.” She has been telling them that she’s doing the same. Increased uncertainty has led to much more open communication about the fact that even jobs that felt stable, are not necessarily such. But this also speaks to the fact that no one really knows what the future of work holds and people are making it up as they go along.

It sounds like a continuation of the pandemic, in the sense that this has all led to some people being their most vulnerable and transparent at the workplace.

It’s a combination of both the pandemic and the economic climate. An employee at YouTube was telling me about how Alphabet is making workers come into the office three days a week. And she said that on the one hand she thinks it’s bullshit and that the company is just trying to justify the capital expenditures that they’ve made on offices. But she also admitted it makes sense because morale is low and employee workplace culture is nonexistent and coming back to the office is really one of the better ways managers have found to facilitate a more collectivist identity.

You write about “workism,” a phrase coined by Derek Thompson from The Atlantic. How does it play into the current workplace dynamic?

The basic idea that Derek laid out is that workism is treating work akin to a religious identity. It’s looking to work not just for a paycheck but also for a community, a sense of identity and purpose and meaning in your life.

There are a few risks to that. One is that it’s just not a burden our jobs are designed to bear. When we look to work for transcendence, it creates these massive expectations, and jobs can’t always deliver on those expectations. A second risk is that over-investing in just one aspect of who we are is risky because those other aspects of our life might be underinvested in. We’re not just workers, we’re also friends, siblings, parents, neighbors, and citizens. As so many people found out during the pandemic, if your job is your sole source of identity and you lose it—what’s left?

You argue that workism is generationally distinctive and write about your own Italian family and how your grandparents worked to live—and the emphasis was really on live. They had structure to their days, but there was that long break in the middle of the day where they went home and ate orecchiette with the family. Work-as-a-religion seems relatively new, or at least industrial age new.

There are many possible explanations of how we got here—economic explanations, historical explanations, political and cultural explanations. The one I focus on in the book is this huge objective value that Americans give to the workplace. You know, we’re an incredibly individualistic country, where we treat CEOs as celebrities and we plaster “Always do what you love” on the walls of our coworking spaces. There’s this push toward wanting work to be our means of self-actualization.

You can pair that with some historical trends, for example the decline of organized religion over the course of the past 40 years, which has left a spiritual void in many American lives. You look at policy decisions in this country, the way that we tie health care to full-time employment for so many people. You look at the historical factors, how our country was founded and the way capitalism and the Protestant work ethic were the two strands entwined to form our country’s DNA.

And what we’ve found is that, unlike our peer nations, like France and Germany, where at-work time has steadily decreased since the beginning of the 20th century, certain subsets of Americans are working more than ever. And this is a historical anomaly. In the past, the richer a person or a country was, the less they worked, because they could afford not to.

Of course, the majority of people not just in the US but in the world do not work to self-actualize, they work to survive. Wages have been stagnant for the past 40 years, so they’ve had to work harder to buy the same loaf of bread. But the argument of my book is that regardless of what type of job you’re in, we now all live in this culture of productivity and thinking our self-worth is somehow tied to our output at work.

The danger of that, you write, is that we end up taking work events quite personally if they don’t go right.

Totally, yeah. There is research around the value of what researchers call self-complexity, or just kind of cultivating different aspects of who we are. This also makes sense intuitively, right? If you’re rising and falling with the professional successes in your life, then one piece of negative feedback, one comment from a coworker can throw your life into a funk. But if you’ve cultivated other aspects of who you are, then maybe you’re having a bad day at the office but you feel like you have a very supportive partner or you’re having a good day with that recreational softball team you play on, then there are other aspects of your life that make you feel whole and aren’t predicated on market forces or what your manager or boss says.

The tricky question is where to draw the line. We need money to survive in this world. But as you write, work can be incredibly paternalistic and often exploits people who are most dutiful and hard-working. Is there a formula for finding the right amount to invest in work?

If there was one main question driving the book, it’s how to balance the pursuit of meaningful work without letting work take over your life. I’m not anti-work. We work more hours than we spend doing just about anything else in our lives, so how we spend that time matters. But I also think that the more we can be clear-headed about work’s role in our lives and understand that fundamentally it’s an economic relationship, the better.

We’ve been told that jobs are meant to be callings and vocations, and thinking of it as an exchange of your time and your labor for money is not the most sexy thing in the world. But I actually think that a more transactional approach to work can liberate both employers and employees. It frees employers to focus on setting clear expectations about what good work looks like, and it frees employees to, for example, advocate for fair compensation. More broadly, it frees employees to treat work as a living and not the entirety of their lives.

This is something that so many tech workers in particular have discovered recently, especially at companies like Meta and Twitter and Microsoft and other places that have had layoffs. I’ve spoken to so many employees that say, basically, “I used to think this was my life’s work, my dream job, and the past year has shown me that this is just a job.”

I’m trying to introduce the framework of the “good enough” job. For one person that could mean working in a particular industry or having a certain job title, and for another it’s getting off work at a certain hour so you can pick your kids up from elementary school. Rather than thinking about work as this endless pursuit of perfection, it’s more about having an approach that allows you to understand that what you do for work is not the entirety of who you are as a person.

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yocioon · 6 months

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⠀⠀⠀ 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝟑𝟓𝟎𝐙 , 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄

[ before you follow | blog rules ! ]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ♱

( ﾟ𐦍༘⋆ )⠀please read everything that is listed below. therefore, if you ever have any questions or concerns you won’t be afraid to dm them to me. and, i will try my best to answer them at a timely manner.

⠀❝⠀⠀⌗⠀BEFORE YOU FOLLOW .ᐟ

꒰ ★̶̲ ꒱⠀yes, i do indeed make selfships with my favorite idols. if that’s a problem then gtfo cus TRUST they would not give two fucks bro. it ain’t hurting anyone. me doing this shit is the same thing as people writing “x reader” or “y/n” fanfics since “y/n” LITERALLY means your name, aka you. we’re all here to be corny and cringey, and to escape from the reality we live, so stfu abt it or leave. i promise no one gives a shit.

꒰ ★̶̲ ꒱⠀i don't necessarily mind if my works are posted on other platforms, as long as proper credit is given (ex: tiktok). i also don't mind translations either considering the fact i speak spanish myself. however, if i find a work of mine posted to a different platform, or even on here, without any proper credit, then there will be a problem.

꒰ ★̶̲ ꒱⠀please do not overly like my posts because tumblr will think i am a bot, when im obviously not. do not like more than five posts at a time because that can/will affect the state of my blog. if you do not listen to this, then i will have no other choice but to block/mute you.

꒰ ★̶̲ ꒱⠀i won't block you if you're a minor because that'd be extremely hypocritical of me since i was introduced to wattpad/smut at a young age. however, it does make me uncomfortable when i'm AWARE of the fact that minors are on my account. so i don't care if it's in your bio, just don't explicitly tell me you're under 18. i am not responsible for what you read on the internet nor am i responsible for you not liking my works. if you don't, then leave cause it wasn't for you in the first place.

⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ✿ 。 ׄ ׅ 𝟶𝟶 ׄ 𓈒 : 𝟶𝟶 ꞌꞋ ۪ ׄ ﹏

⠀

⠀❝⠀⠀⌗⠀WRITING DISCLAIMERS .ᐟ

꒰ ♡ ꒱⠀𝐈 𝑫𝑶 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 . . . fem!readers. masc!readers. smut. dom!reader. switch!reader. (maybe) sub!reader. size differences. unprotected sex. dumbification. spitting. choking. alcohol consumption. drug usage. exhibitionism. voyeurism. violence. gore. praise. corruption. spanking. (pussy) slapping. threesome/polyamorous dynamics. cunnilingus. blow/handjob. degradation. age gap (only when reader and idol are both 20+). cheating. hate fucking. free use (with reassurance).

꒰ ♡ ꒱⠀𝐈 𝑫𝑶 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 . . . anything that is sexual content with minors (seeing as i am nineteen). dubcon. noncon. cnc. incest/stepcest. grape/s3xual 4ssault. pregnancy anything. somnophilia. pedophilia. teacher x student (only teacher x assis. teacher is acceptable). feet kink. piss kink. orgies. ed's. race play. pet play. scat. mpreg. breast feeding. age regression. DDBG. MDBG. suic!de/s3lf h4rm. scat. yandere (this romanticizes ppl with bpd so absolutely not). white readers. eating disorders. domestic abuse. p3dophelia. vore. necrophelia. daddy kink.

꒰ ♡ ꒱⠀this is indeed a multifandom blog, so you will see a wide variety of different groups being written for in here. furthermore, i will start off/mainly write for groups i’m more versed with like bts, ateez, and p1harmony.

꒰ ♡ ꒱⠀i do take requests, prompts, thirsts, and suggestions atm; so feel free to flood my dms idm. just know i won’t get to them in a hasty manor since i am running two blogs, but i will try my best. i never really had, or have, a posting schedule. however, whenever i do post it will most likely be early evening/late at night since i’m a night owl lol.

⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ✿ 。 ׄ ׅ 𝟶𝟶 ׄ 𓈒 : 𝟶𝟶 ꞌꞋ ۪ ׄ ﹏

⠀

⠀❝⠀⠀⌗⠀INTERACTIONS .ᐟ

꒰ ♰ ꒱⠀i block anyone and everyone i deem a weirdo. mutual or not. you write smut for minors? blocked. you write stepcest? blocked. you write yandere? BLOCKED. i genuinely do not give an everlasting fuck. just because this is fictional writing, doesn’t mean you be an absolute weirdo. and using the “dark content” excuse is as lame as middle school white boys defending grape jokes with “dark humor”.

꒰ ♰ ꒱⠀𝐃𝐎 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 . . . wattpad writers/new tumblr users that come from wattpad (y'all r so unoriginal i cant fathom). you write for anything that’s listed in my “i do not write for”. men/male identifying people (this is literally a lesbian account). white people. dsmp fans. stray kids fans (specifically bangchan fans). leia apologists (black swan). kids under 16 (you're a freshman and i'm a young adult, so it makes me a tad bit uncomfortable). racists. white celebrity stans. homophobes. transphobes. fatphobes. ableists. yandere lovers. he/him lesbian haters (kys fr).

⠀genderfluid/nonbinary lesbian haters (kys ×2). female-identifying venom simps (he's literally fucking gay, you're weird). straight female-identifying BL/yaoi readers. coryxkenshin haters (you deserve absolutely nothing). you age up minors to write smut for them. miles morales antis. you anti any of my favs.

꒰ ♰ ꒱⠀my dms are always open, mutuals or not. i’m also always open to being mutuals, meaning you can ask to be mutuals in my inbox, idm. if we’re already mutuals and you feel like i’m not interacting with you enough please do let me know, my bpd ass will assume i’m annoying you and go ghost sometimes so just be aware.

꒰ ♰ ꒱⠀if you’d like to talk more outside of tumblr then you’re always free to ask for my discord. whether it be thru my inbox, or dms, doesn’t matter. though, discord is the only social i will allow for people to ask for. yes, i have my instagram linked but that doesn’t mean i will follow you on it. i never check notifs anyways. only close mutuals will be accepted thru there.

꒰ ♰ ꒱⠀i may come across mean, or as a bitch (i am one). but, trust guys that’s only when you’re a freak or weirdo. i’m nice 55% of the time i swear. just don’t be braindead or dense on beyoncé’s internet and we’ll be fine.

#𒋲⠀⠀⠀ᵎᵎ⠀𝐩𝒊𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝒐𝐩⠀❜#gfx inspo: hakpfilez on insta

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

Text

let us help you | end.

Summary: The team is absolutely in love with one of the SHIELD recruits and hopes she joins the team considering she already lives with them. No one knows that she has several eating problems not even the two super-soldiers who seem to hang onto her even more than the rest of the team

Warnings for the Series: self-esteem issues, eating disorder, angsty, smut

Pairing: Stucky x black!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

You woke up to a smoothie, a takeout one instead of the usual homemade. Steve was sitting at the end of the bed, medium plastic cup in his hand. You went to grab your phone and he reached over to take it before you could.

“Steve!”

“It’s 7:10 am, no we aren’t running this morning, yes this is your breakfast.”

“That looks l—”

“It’s a sixteen ounce smoothie full of stuff you like plus a scoop of yogurt. Breakfast. Please take it from my hand, doll, so I can go get my coffee,” he said the last part light-heartedly in hopes you would accept it.

You just looked at the cup in his hand. Steve took a sip and then held the cup back out. This time, you gingerly took it from his hand. He watched you take a sip and patted your knee before getting up to get himself food. He sat back down at the end of the bed when he returned so he would be facing you. His voice was more gentle this time.

“First step, getting rid of those rules. We’ll eat when you’re hungry and I know you like breakfast. Don’t even try hiding it, Buck and I hear your stomach grumbling when we wake up.”

You took another sip while eyeing Steve’s plate. He had a full meal. Your head tilted and Steve mirrored your actions. He didn’t say anything, just waited until you stopped sipping on the smoothie. You scooted closer to him and grabbed the fork from his hand to feed him.

“You and Bucky seem so happy eating, the whole team does… I want to be happy too.”

Steve finished swallowing his bite as you started to poke the fork into more food. He grabbed the smoothie cup you had abandoned and pressed it to your lips, you absentmindedly took a sip as you loaded his fork with food. You stopped sipping for a moment to finish your thought.

“All the time. I’m happy eating sometimes.”

“Yeah, I remember that little wiggle over tomato soup.”

You laughed and Steve smiled as you did the little dance again after taking another sip of smoothie.

“That’s a sound I like to hear.”

You and Steve’s heads turned to the doorway where Bucky was standing, still in tactical gear. He walked into the room and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips before doing the same to you.

“You’re back,” you said, excitedly.

Bucky told the field agents on his mission team that they could hurry up and finish the minute quickly or do it without him but either way he was coming home after Steve called. The forkful that was meant for Steve, you instinctively put up to Bucky’s mouth. Even if he hadn’t watched the scene from the doorway, he knew to just accept the bite of breakfast while you watched him with doe eyes and sipped on the smoothie.

Bucky took a quick shower and sat on the bed, his chest against your back. He already ate in the quinjet on the way back and was content with stealing sips of Steve’s coffee while you and Steve finished breakfast. The two men were uniquely perceptive to your body cues, you watched Steve and felt Bucky tense up as you gagged after the last sip of smoothie. You held your hand up to your mouth until the little bit of the bile that rose in the back of your throat died down.

“I’m okay. It happens sometimes.”

Neither one of them relaxed completely. You tilted your head back so you could look at Bucky.

“Why’d you come back? Steve said your mission…”

“He called me last night, had to come home. Why the face, angel?”

“You left a mission early… because of me.”

“I left because I wanted to come home and take care of you. Not because you necessarily needed it but because I wanted to.”

You frowned but didn’t say anything. This wasn’t an argument you were going to win with Bucky and you knew it. The smoothie was finished and you set the empty cup on the nightstand and grabbed Bucky’s hand, playing with the metal fingers. You raised his hand up and lightly pressed a kiss to his fingers before dropping them into your lap. Bucky could see the broken capillaries that Steve told him about. Steve finished breakfast, offering the last of the coffee to Bucky who gladly accepted it.

“Meditation or reading?”

“What, Steve?”

“We can’t run right away, just ate. So what do you want to do, skip straight to Buck’s meditation or reading or what?”

You thought for a minute and chose to skip to meditation until you had fully digested breakfast. Bucky went on the run even though he had just come from a mission. They were reluctant to let you go to training until the capillaries were healed but you told them it was fine. You stopped them before they could step into the training room with a devilish look on your face. Bucky was caught off guard when you stepped up to him, so close that you could feel his breath, right outside the training room where someone could see if they just opened the doors.

“Sarge,” you whined. “Captain said the punishment was your idea.”

Both of the men chuckled. You jutted out your bottom lip. Bucky bent down to kiss you and, taking a page out of Steve’s book, gently nipped at your lip. You smiled as you felt yourself being sandwiched between the two of them. Bucky brushed his fingers against your collarbones. He pulled away, keeping his lips still close to yours.

“You didn’t think that was going to get you out of it, angel, did you?”

“Please.”

“Should we cut her a break, Sarge?” Steve asked as his hands squeezed your hips. You nodded furiously as they looked at each other over your head.

“Do well at practice and I think we can look the other way after lunch.”

The three of you straightened yourselves out and walked into the training room. Your friends gave you knowing looks while the rest of the group didn’t even bother to look your way. Training went smoothly and you had a sneaking suspicion that Steve and Bucky were going a little easier on you than normal although both of them would deny it if you confronted them about it. Not that you were complaining if it meant you were finally going to get off. You bounded out of the gym when practice was over instead of staying behind to help them pack everything up like normal— making both Steve and Bucky chuckle, knowing that you were probably going to get yourself ready.

You were nowhere to be seen when they entered their room. Neither of them wanted to panic but they felt nervousness wash over them. Trying not to cause a scene, they walked briskly through the halls only stopping and sighing in relief as they heard your laughter. You looked over your shoulder as they entered the kitchen area and showed them a bowl of pasta with barely a dent in it.

“Vision wanted someone to try his cooking for Wanda,” you mumbled.

Even though everyone knew, you still tried not to discuss it too much with the other members of the team.

“How are you feeling, pretty doll?” Bucky asked, tentatively.

You thought about it and decided to be honest with them. “Like I can’t eat dinner after this… I don’t think I can finish this.”

Steve took the bowl out of your hand and put the rest of the pasta into a tupperware container and set it in the fridge. Vision handed a bowl to Wanda who had just entered the kitchen. The other Avengers started to flow in as well. Some of them took the leftovers that Vision said they could have while others started looking for their own food. Bucky rubbed circles on the back of your hand. It all felt so overwhelming having everyone suddenly in and being surrounded by food. You hopped off of the barstool as the smell of oil heating up in Sam’s pan wafted over to your nose.

“I just need a minute,” you whispered as you left the room.

Bucky and Steve looked at each other before nodding and following you, staying a little bit behind. They found you laying down on the floor of their room with your gaze focused on the ceiling. They settled down beside you and mimicked your movements. It was silent for a minute as the three of you looked at the plain ceiling.

“The bed was too soft for thinking,” you finally said.

“What are we thinking about?” Steve asked.

You turned your head to look at him before going back to looking at the ceiling. He knew to drop it and Bucky didn’t push for a follow up either. You couldn’t help the slight smile that graced your face after you had sighed loudly and the two of them did the same. Unprompted, you grabbed both of their hands— the two supersoldiers gently squeezing your hands.

The rest of the night was a silent affair. Instead of team dinner, Bucky and Steve ate in their room with you occasionally picking off of each of their plates when you felt like you could. They didn’t push knowing you weren’t feeling the best, at least you were eating something. Bucky couldn’t help but tense up each time your eyes glanced towards the bathroom door and Steve slowly inched his body to cover more and more of the door without alerting you that they knew what was actively on your mind. You went to bed with murmurs of goodnight being the most you had said since getting up from the floor.

You were still knocked out when they woke up in the morning since it was a Friday and no training was on the schedule. Steve and Bucky very carefully got out of bed in order to not disturb you. They made their way to one of the conference rooms that Nick had requested they meet in. Most of the team looked the same way they did, still in pajamas and nursing cups of coffee. Nick was going on and debriefing them about another HYDRA related mission.

“Each group is small but you all need to work together to pull it off. So really it’s a big mission.”

“How big are we talking exactly?” Nat asked.

Nick started naming off the Avengers in certain teams. “And Bruce, we’re putting you out on the field for this one. You’ll be with Cap and Bucky.”

“Me and Steve?” Bucky asked.

“Yes.”

“No,” Steve said, not skimping on an ounce of authority in his voice.

Steve’s comment made the rest of the team look at him.

“No?” Nick asked, astonished.

“No. Buck and I aren’t both leaving.”

“And may I ask why?”

“(Y/N),” Bucky said, tentatively.

“We need every person on this mission. You want me to give that up for one random recruit? Your partner?”

Bucky was getting annoyed and Steve had to keep him in the chair he was sitting in. They weren’t going to budge on leaving you completely alone for a mission that had no current end date. They weren’t going to let the threat of another relapse be something that you carried alone. Nick looked at the two men in front of him and knew they wouldn’t budge. He also knew that it must’ve been a serious matter if they cared so much.

“FRIDAY!” Nick yelled to the air.

“Yes, Director?”

“Where is (Y/N)?”

“She just returned to Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes’ bed.”

“Tell her to come in.”

Steve and Bucky looked at the table at FRIDAY’s words. Even though everyone knew you all were together, it still felt a little personal that they knew you were in their bed. You soon came into the conference room, still in pajamas and headscarf. Your normal smoothie was replaced with an equally large cup of coffee and, much to your boyfriends’ pleasure, a bowl of fruit.

“FRIDAY said you called for me, Director?”

“Congrats, you’re an Avenger.”

You almost dropped the bowl of fruit in your hand. Training wasn’t over yet and you weren’t even expecting a shot at the position. You had been aiming for a field agent at best, even with the number one spot of your most recent rank. You looked over at the team who shrugged in confusion, not knowing this was happening at this exact moment. Yeah, they had talked it out but this exact moment was not when they planned to say it.

“I’m sorry, sir, what?”

“You’re on the team with Dr. Banner, Cap, and Sarge. They’ll brief you when you leave for the quinjet.”

Nick turned to Steve and Bucky, addressing them only. “Problem solved. Get to work.”

The group was dismissed. Everyone clapped you on the back as they filed out the room until it was just Steve and Bucky left in front of you.

“Am I actually an Avenger now?”

They both nodded. “We’ll brief you but we’re all supposed to suit up and go in two hours.”

Steve reached for one of the grapes in your bowl but you pulled it back before he could.

“Ah ah. Get your own breakfast, soldier.”

Bucky moved to be behind you. His arms wrapped around your middle and he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Yeah, Steve, get your own breakfast,” he said with a smile.

Steve snorted out a laugh and took a grape anyway. Instead of eating it, he pressed it to your lips. You took it into your mouth, rolling your eyes when he and Bucky took two more grapes out of the bowl and ate them. Not one to miss out on the fun, Bucky grabbed an apple chunk to feed you.

“It’s nice to see you eating breakfast, pretty doll,” he commented.

“I’m trying,” you whispered.

“That’s all we can hope for,” Steve responded.

Both he and Bucky kissed you on the cheek. It wasn’t going to be perfect, the three of you knew it, but it felt like something you could get through.

#stucky x reader #avengers fic #marvel fic

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