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gdinthehouseee · 1 day ago

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Killshot: KWON JI-YONG x READER

summary: ji-yong's been a fan of you, a famous model and designer, for a while now, so naturally he's ecstatic when he finally gets the chance to meet you in person. who knew you could make him so flustered?

word count: 3645

tags: fluff; flirting and teasing

ao3 link

Electric elegance and excitement filled the venue—the kind of anticipation that only a Chanel fashion show could conjure. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over the grand space, illuminating rows of impeccably dressed guests—celebrities, designers, editors, and the elite of the fashion world. The rhythmic click of cameras never ceased, flashes reflecting off polished marble floors and the towering floral arrangements that framed the runway.

Ji-yong sat comfortably in the front row, his sharp gaze flicking between the models gliding down the catwalk and the intricate details of the new collection. He appreciated the craftsmanship, the way each piece moved like art in motion. But tonight, his mind wasn’t entirely on the designs. There was an undercurrent of anticipation in his chest, a quiet thrill he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He knew you were walking this show.

Then, the lights shifted. The music swelled into something dramatic, elegant. A sign of the show’s crescendo. And then—there you were. The moment you stepped onto the runway, he felt his breath hitch. Of course, he’s seen you on countless posters, magazines, even billboards. But, being so close to you in the same room and watching you work was something else entirely.

Beauty is subjective—something that couldn’t truly be defined, only felt. But in that moment, as you moved down the runway with effortless grace, he realized just how wrong he was. You were breathtaking, in a way that wasn’t just about flawless features or the way the couture hugged your figure. It was the quiet confidence in your stride, the way the lights seemed to chase after you, the soft yet commanding intensity in your eyes. Every movement was deliberate, every glance a silent declaration that you belonged here, at the pinnacle of the fashion world. Ji-yong wasn’t easily starstruck, but something about you—about the way you carried yourself like art brought to life—had him completely mesmerized.

Which is why he almost forgot how to breathe when your eyes met his.

For the rest of the show, he couldn’t seem to get that visual out of his mind. Not that he wanted to. He was trying to remain reasonable with his inner monologue, how that moment was most likely nothing more than a coincidence and how you could have easily made eye contact with anybody; it just happened to be him. Yet, he wanted to pretend as if that shared glance was all for him.

Before he knew it, the show was over. He didn’t completely realise until he noticed whoever that previously sat next to him were now long gone, likely making their way to the exclusive post-show party. A party he was invited to. A party he normally would have declined, but he just couldn’t pass up this opportunity to finally talk to you. He found himself weaving through the sea of designers, celebrities, and fashion insiders. The atmosphere was different now—still glamorous, but more relaxed, buzzing with post-show energy. Champagne glasses clinked, laughter bubbled from plush seating areas, and flashes of couture shimmered under the dim, moody lighting. Conversations blurred into one another, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was scanning the room, searching for you.

As if the universe had been waiting for the perfect moment, he spotted you.

Standing near the bar, effortlessly stunning in a sleek post-show outfit, you were laughing at something someone had said, your head tilting slightly as your lips curled into a smirk. The sight made something warm stir in his chest—because somehow, despite the grandeur of it all, you still stood out the most.

This was it. His chance.

Ji-yong exhaled, rolling his shoulders back, trying to shake the ridiculous nervous energy he felt creeping in. He was G-Dragon. He was the idol of idols, the king of K-pop. And yet, when it came to you, he suddenly wasn’t so sure what to do with himself. Should he introduce himself properly? What is he going to do with his hands? What about his expression? Where should he look? God forbid, you make eye contact and suddenly his mouth stops working.

Before he could decide on his approach, you turned. And your eyes met his. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest when he watched you excuse yourself from whoever you were talking to and started heading directly towards him. Holy shit.

The truth was you had felt his gaze before you even turned to look. There was something unmistakable about it—intense yet curious, lingering but not intrusive. And when you finally met his eyes, you couldn’t help but smile.

Kwon Ji-yong. The G-Dragon. The icon. The artist who had painted himself into your heart without even realising The man you had admired from afar, just as he had admired you. He was standing just a few feet away, looking far too cool in his tailored black suit, silver rings glinting under the low lighting. But there was something else too, something almost boyish in the way his fingers toyed with said rings, as if he were debating whether to come over. You decided to make it easy for him.

“If you’re going to stare, you might as well say hello.”

Ji-yong blinked, caught off guard for half a second before his lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. He stepped closer, effortlessly slipping into your space like he belonged there. “In my defense, it’s kind of hard not to stare when the most stunning person in the room is standing right in front of me.”

You huffed a laugh, amused at how smoothly he recovered. “Flatterer.”

“Just honest.” His eyes gleamed with mischief, and you swore you saw the faintest hint of pink dust his ears, though he covered it well.

You took a slow sip of your drink, feigning contemplation. “You know, it’s funny… I always figured if we met, you’d be the cool one.”

He raised a brow. “And?”

“And yet here you are, acting like a total fanboy.” You grinned, watching his reaction.

Once more, he was caught off guard, and for a split second, you saw it—the faintest hint of pink creeping up his neck, the way his fingers instinctively tightened around the glass in his hand. His usual effortless confidence faltered, just for a moment, and it was honestly adorable.

His gaze flickered away, then back to you, like he was trying to recover. “I—” He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Okay, wow.”

“Oh my god,” you teased, grinning wide now. “You’re actually flustered.”

“I am not flustered.” He cleared his throat, shifting his stance, but that just made it worse.

You gasped, placing a hand over your heart dramatically. “Wait. Have you been waiting for this moment? Oh no—Ji-yong, do you have a little crush?”

The moment your lips formed his name—soft, effortless, like you’d said it a thousand times before—Ji-yong swore his brain short-circuited. It wasn’t just the way you said it, but the way it settled in the air between you, like it belonged there. His name had been spoken by millions—fans, interviewers, friends—but somehow, coming from you, it sounded entirely new. Warmer. Sweeter. And damn, even your voice was beautiful. Smooth, rich, laced with amusement, like you knew exactly what you were doing to him. For the first time in a long time, the man who always had the perfect words—a born lyricist—found himself momentarily speechless.

“Did I just make G-Dragon speechless?”

“No,” he denied, but his voice came out just a fraction slower than usual. How did you already know him so well in this short span of time?

You tilted your head, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Because you looked a little—how do I put this?—overwhelmed there for a second.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he swirled the drink in his glass, clearly trying to think of what to say next. He was plotting an immediate revenge, but you simply couldn’t resist pushing a little more. “I mean, I get it. If I were you, I’d be overwhelmed too. Meeting me must be a pretty big deal.”

“Wow. Modest, aren’t you?”

“I like to think I’m just self-aware.”

Ji-yong clicked his tongue, leaning in slightly as he rested his elbow against the bar. “Fine, I’ll admit it—I was excited to meet you. Maybe even a little nervous.”

“Nervous?” You echoed.

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

You beamed, reveling in the moment. “Ji-yong, are you telling me you had a little pre-game pep talk before coming over here?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face before leveling you with a halfhearted glare. “You really don’t let up, do you?”

“Not when I’m having this much fun.”

He sighed dramatically, setting his drink down before crossing his arms. “Okay, since you’re enjoying yourself so much, tell me—how would you have imagined this going?”

You pretended to think for a moment. “Hmm… I figured you’d walk in here all cool and effortless, maybe hit me with a ‘Nice to finally meet you,’ like it was no big deal.”

“And now?”

“Now?” You grinned. “I think I might be your biggest weakness.”

He stared at you for a moment, then scoffed, shaking his head as a slow smile spread across his lips. “Alright, you win this round.”

You clinked your glass against his, eyes twinkling. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been winning since you first laid eyes on me.”

He chuckled, desperately ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the pet name, finally regaining some of his usual confidence. “See, now you’re just showing off.”

You shrugged playfully. “Like I said. Self-aware.”

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head in amusement before leaning in just a fraction closer, his voice lowering. “In that case… how about we make this interesting?”

“Oh?”

An unfortunately charming smile tugged at his lips. “You’ve had your fun teasing me. Now let’s see if you can handle it when I start playing back.”

Challenge accepted.

You narrowed your eyes at him, studying the way his smirk deepened, how his confidence settled back into place like he had just remembered who he was. Global icon, master of charm. And apparently, a man who had just decided to turn the game around on you. Interesting.

“You think you can fluster me?” You challenged.

“I don’t think.” He set his glass down carefully, voice dropping just slightly. “I know.”

A spark of anticipation ran through you, but you refused to show it. “Big words, sweetheart. You sure you can back them up?”

His gaze flickered down to your lips—quick, subtle, almost imperceptible. But you caught it. Oh, he was dangerous.

Ji-yong hummed thoughtfully. “You’re right. Maybe I should start small.” He leaned in just a fraction, close enough that you could catch the faintest hint of his cologne—warm, woody, intoxicating. “Like pointing out how, for all your teasing, you haven’t taken your eyes off me once.”

Your fingers tightened around your glass instinctively. Damn it. He had noticed.

His smirk widened. “Or how you keep leaning in every time I do.”

You blinked, realizing that—yeah. Maybe you were mirroring him just a little. You fought the urge to step back, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you tilted your chin up, giving him an unimpressed look. “Please. You’re not that charming.”

“Then why are you holding your breath right now?”

Damn him. Your jaw tightened. You hadn’t even realized you were doing it until he pointed it out.

He chuckled under his breath, clearly pleased with himself. “You’re cute when you’re pretending not to be affected.”

You hated to admit it, but damn—he was good. Too good. The shift in his demeanor had been seamless, like a tide turning before you even realized the waves had changed direction. One moment, he was the flustered one, pink-eared and sheepish under your teasing, and now? Now he was looking at you like he had you all figured out, like he knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what effect it had on you. And the worst part? He did know. The way his voice dipped just enough to make your breath catch, the way his eyes never wavered from yours, holding you there as if daring you to look away first. Kwon Ji-yong was dangerously charming, effortlessly magnetic—and, as much as you wanted to keep the upper hand, you had to admit… you really didn’t mind losing this round.

You scoffed, finally breaking eye contact as you took a sip of your champagne. “Alright, I’ll admit it—you’re better at this than I expected.”

He leaned back slightly, victorious. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head with a smirk. “Don’t get used to it.”

He chuckled, then glanced around the room before looking back at you, his expression shifting from playful to genuinely intrigued. “So, tell me…what does someone like you do for fun at these things? Aside from making grown men nervous, of course.”

As the conversation continued, the playful teasing began to fade into the background, replaced by an undeniable sense of ease between the two of you. He no longer seemed as intent on winning the playful battle. Instead, there was a shift—a subtle softening in his eyes when he looked at you.

After a quiet moment, Ji-yong shifted on his stool, leaning in just a bit closer. "You know," he started, his voice more thoughtful than before, "I never really get nervous. I mean, it's been a while since I’ve felt… out of my element." He looked away for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, but you could see the faint tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before. "But tonight? Meeting you? It’s different."

You tilted your head, surprised by the shift in tone. The confident, playful version of him was still there, but now you saw something else—something quieter. "Different how?"

He paused, eyes flickering back to yours, searching for the right words. "I don't know… I guess, I’ve admired you for a while now. Your work, the way you carry yourself, the way you’ve built something so incredible from the ground up. I don’t know if you realize how rare that is. And then to meet you like this, in person…" He let out a small, almost self-deprecating laugh. "Honestly, it feels surreal."

You blinked, a little taken aback. The man who usually exuded unshakable confidence was now standing before you, vulnerable in a way that made your chest tighten. It was real, raw—and it only made him that much more captivating. Unfortunately for you, it only made him more attractive.

"I didn’t know you were a fan of mine," you murmured, your voice softer than usual. "I guess I always thought of you as someone so… out of reach."

"Maybe that's why I was so nervous, even though I didn't want to admit it." He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to shake off the moment. "But now that I’ve actually met you… I think I’m just really glad I did."

His words hung between you, like a quiet confession, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade. There was no media, no flashing cameras, just two people standing in a crowded room but somehow feeling like they were the only ones there. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The noise of the party faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, standing close yet separated by a quiet tension. His gaze, usually guarded and sharp, softened as he looked at you. This wasn’t the public figure Ji-yong, the performer or the brand. This was him—raw and unfiltered. His eyes held something different now, not the usual charisma or charm, but something deeper, more genuine. And you felt it too.

There was a certain vulnerability between you now, a shared understanding that neither of you needed to perform for the other. You could see the way he studied you, not as the world expected him to, but as a man who saw you for who you truly were—no makeup, no lights, no cameras. Just you. And for the first time, you realized you were doing the same thing. Not the musical genius, not the trendsetter—just him.

The way his eyes lingered, the slight curve of his lips as he absorbed every little detail of you, told you that the real you—the one without the glitz, the glam, and the fame—was more intriguing to him than anything else. In that silence, you realized that the Ji-yong standing before you wasn’t just intrigued by your beauty in a public sense. He was captivated by the authenticity of the person you were when no one was watching. And for the first time, it dawned on you that maybe, just maybe, this was the most genuine connection either of you had ever had.

The moment lingered, but only for a beat, before you both seemed to snap back into the playful rhythm of things. Ji-yong’s lips quirked up again, that signature smirk returning as if the vulnerability from before hadn’t even happened. You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the playful spark flicker back to life between you.

“You’re lucky I’m still giving you the time of day,” you teased, tilting your head as you met his gaze. “After all that heart-to-heart, I could’ve easily walked away with all the points.”

He let out a soft laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Points? Don’t get ahead of yourself, jagiya. I’m just getting started.”

You were about to tease him back, but before you could, Ji-yong took your hand in his with surprising tenderness. He brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture was gentle, but the heat that followed it was undeniable. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a wave of warmth rush to your cheeks.

His eyes locked on yours as he pulled away, a smug, satisfied smile on his face. “Well, I’d say that worked better than I expected,” he said, his voice low, almost as if he was savoring the effect his kiss had on you.

You froze, completely flustered, your mind struggling to catch up with the intensity of the moment. Your face was on fire, and you could feel yourself falling into a flustered silence.

He grinned, obviously relishing in the effect he had on you. “Something wrong?”

You took a breath, the playful spark flaring back in your chest. You couldn’t let him win so easily, not after all his teasing. So, in a moment of boldness, you leaned forward and placed a quick, teasing kiss to his jawline. The kiss was light, playful—but the effect was instant. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked utterly stunned, blinking at you as if he hadn’t quite expected that.

“Well, well,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rush of warmth flooding your face. “I guess I can make you blush too.”

His hand instinctively went to the spot you’d kissed, his fingers lingering there, a small grin forming on his lips. He looked at you, half-shocked, half-amused. “I didn’t think you had it in you,” he said, his tone a mix of disbelief and admiration.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of triumph. “I don’t play by the rules, Ji-yong. You should know that by now.”

The glimmer of surprise in his eyes mixed with a hint of something darker. The blush on his cheeks only made it all the more satisfying. You let your gaze linger on his face for a moment, letting the silence stretch as you leaned in just a little, the space between you feeling charged with anticipation.

“You’re gonna have to keep up, though,” you murmured, your voice low and almost teasing. “I don’t always play nice.”

His eyes darkened slightly, the playful edge in his expression sharpening as he took a slow breath. “Is that so?” he said, voice thick with something between amusement and challenge. “Because I think I could handle anything you throw my way... Aein.”

You stepped a little closer, just enough that you could feel the heat between you two rise. “Is that a promise, Ji-yong?” you asked, lips curving into a sly smile. “You sure you can handle me? I can be... a lot more than you think.”

The words hung in the air, and you could see him catch his breath, just for a second, before his lips parted. “I never back down from a challenge, especially not one like you,” he said, his voice dropping lower, an almost dangerous undertone. “But you’re gonna have to make it worth my while.”

You leaned in closer, so close that your lips brushed his ear as you spoke, your voice dripping with playful seduction. “Oh, trust me,” you whispered, voice just barely above a breath. “I’ll make it more than worth it. But you’re gonna have to prove you can keep up with me first.”

He inhaled sharply, a faint tremor in his breath as you pulled back slightly, watching his expression twist with a mix of surprise and something darker—a flicker of desire now evident in his eyes.

“Well,” he said, voice husky, “I think you’ve underestimated me, aein. I’ll make sure you’re the one struggling to keep up.”

A slow, teasing smile tugged at your lips, and you felt a thrill rush through you, the unspoken game between you two now fully ignited. “We’ll see about that, Ji-yong,” you said softly, the tension in the air thick and undeniable.

“We’ll see who’s really in charge.”

taglist: @thanosscrossmain @maskedcrawford @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey

#kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon #gdragon x reader #kpop #bigbang #bigbang x reader #fluff #flirting #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #ao3

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darlingsblackbook · 1 day ago

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Between the lines - part 2

Gojo Satoru x Awkward!Reader

Summary : As the new teacher’s assistant at Jujutsu High, Y/N is used to being invisible—quiet, awkward, always on the outside looking in. She tells herself she prefers it that way, but when Gojo Satoru, the school’s most infuriatingly nosy teacher, starts noticing the cracks in her carefully built walls, she finds it harder to hide. He’s loud, he’s persistent, and worst of all… he might just see right through her.

Warnings : feelings.

English is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any grammatical or spelling mistakes. Feel free to point them out to me, but please, be kind with it♡

♡♡♡

Being at Jujutsu High felt… different now.

Not in a sudden, life altering way but there were just small shifts, subtle changes in the air, in the way people looked at me, in the way I existed within these walls.

At first, I hadn’t noticed.

I had been so used to lingering at the edges, to keeping to myself, that it didn’t occur to me when the distance started to close. It wasn’t anything drastic; just little things.

A small conversation here.

A casual greeting there.

Still, there was change.

°•♡•°

The lounge was comfortably warm, filled with the soft hum of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter, and the rhythmic tapping of rain against the windows. The heavy clouds outside had darkened the sky, casting a muted gray glow over the room, but inside, the atmosphere was bright, buzzing with the easy energy of people who had known each other long enough to abandon formalities.

“You can’t just let me die like this!”

“Then dodge, dumbass.”

The sound of arguing pulled my attention from my book.

Yuji and Nobara were pressed together on the couch, nearly headbutting each other as they bickered over their phones, the screen flashing rapidly between them.

“Sensei,” Yuji groaned, twisting around dramatically to face me. “Tell her she’s being mean.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden plea for help. “Oh, um—”

“She’s bullying me,” Yuji continued, tone exaggerated, hands clasped together as if pleading for justice. “And I’m just a poor, innocent boy who wants to live.”

Nobara scoffed. “Innocent? Yeah, righ!”

On the other side of the room, Megumi let out a quiet sigh. “Yuji, you literally threw her off the map five seconds ago.”

“That was an accident.”

A small, breathy laugh slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

Yuji gasped and pointed at me. “She laughed! I heard it!”

Nobara turned to me immediately, her eyes alight with amusement. “Oh, she’s got a cute laugh too.”

Heat crept up my neck. “I—”

“See?” Yuji grinned, leaning forward like he had uncovered some grand secret. “She likes us. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

I opened my mouth to argue—but stopped.

Because I didn’t actually want to.

Because I did like them.

°•♡•°

And then there was Gojo.

If I had thought he was persistent before, I had been absolutely wrong.

Gojo Satoru did not believe in personal space.

He did not believe in subtlety.

And he definitely did not believe in leaving me alone.

The first time he disrupted my peace, I had been sitting in my usual spot, surrounded by stacks of paperwork, the low murmur of the ceiling fan filling the silence.

And then—

SLAM-

A hand landed on my desk, loud and jarring.

I yelped and flinched so violently that my pen flew from my grip. My heart beat into my throat as I looked up

Straight into the too-bright, too-knowing eyes of Gojo Satoru.

“Let’s get lunch,” he declared.

I blinked at him, still trying to regulate my breathing. “What?”

He leaned down slightly, an easy grin tugging at his lips. “Lunch. Food. You know, the thing humans eat?”

“I know what lunch is.” I frowned. “I just—”

“You’re gonna sit here all alone and work again?” He sighed dramatically, tilting his head. “Live a little.”

“I like working.”

Gojo gave me a look of pure disbelief. “Yeah, yeah. Nerd stuff. Let’s go.”

And before I could protest, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet, effortlessly dragging me along like I weighed nothing.

And that was how it started.

Lunches. Walks. Interrogations disguised as casual conversations.

That overgrown paintbrush was everywhere.

He had for some reason made it his mission to pull me into his world, to chip away at the walls I had carefully built, to make me talk.

It was annoying.

It was exhausting.

And...

It was nice.

He was patient. He did not push me to talk and gave me the time if I needed to gather my words. I never felt like I had to hurry and say something before the conversation moved to another subject because he always paused to give room for my input.

And if I really did not feel like talking, it was never a problem because Gojo could effortlessly yap for a whole group of people 💀

And bit by bit, he succeeded in his mission.

°•♡•°

Weeks passed.

And something inside me started to shift.

I felt different.

Lighter.

Like maybe, just maybe, I was not as alone as I had always thought.

And there was a free space that I could occupy without a worry.

I could not remember when that shift had happened. Was it overnight? Probably not. In a few days? Debatable. Over the course of a few weeks? Mhmm

As I was thinking back, trying to pinpoint the time where that shift inside of me had happened there was one thing that kept popping up in my mind.

Well, one person.

Because really, it had all started with him. The lunches, the walks, the banter. It had all helped.

My heart skipped a beat.

My heart skipped a beat?

Why would my he-

It hit me.

There was more than just one shift that had happened. Somewhere along the way, I had gained feelings for Gojo Satoru.

I had a crush on Gojo Satoru.

The realization struck like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs.

At first, I tried to deny it. There was no way but I could not help but think back.

Think back to how my heart would stutter when he leaned in too close.

Think back to the warmth in my chest when he looked at me like I was interesting.

With that realization, I did what I had always done best.

I withdrew.

I went back to avoiding eye contact. Went back to sitting alone. Went back to keeping my distance from everyone.

It wasn’t intentional at first—just small things. Skipping out on conversations, leaving rooms before Gojo could drag me into another one of his ridiculous antics. But once I noticed it, I doubled down.

Because this feeling was dangerous. And I was scared. I had gone so long living like a ghost and now I had a taste what it was like to be visible to someone- What if he found out? What if he thought I was digusting for having these feelings for him? Would he ridicule me? Would he laugh in my face? Would he tell everyone at this school? Would I be known as the weird girl who was so lonely she started crushing on the teacher she assist? What if-

Gojo noticed.

Of course he did.

The afternoon air hung heavy, thick with the remnants of summer as cicadas droned outside the open window. A warm breeze drifted in, ruffling the edge of the papers on my desk, carrying the faint scent of cut grass and lingering rain from the earlier downpour. The sky outside was still overcast, streaks of gold trying to push through the dense clouds, casting a dim, muted light into the quiet classroom.

It had been an unusually slow day. Most of the students had gone to their dorms early, leaving the rest of the school eerily silent, save for the occasional footsteps echoing down the halls.

I should have left too, but I didn’t want to go back to my empty apartment, to another evening of nothingness, staring at my phone, waiting for notifications that never came.

So I stayed.

I had been reviewing lesson plans, forcing myself to focus, but my mind kept drifting. Kept wandering. Kept returning to him.

To Gojo.

I squeezed my pen a little tighter.

It was ridiculous. I had spent weeks trying to push the thought away, to shove the feeling deep enough that it wouldn’t reach the surface. But it was there, clawing at the back of my mind, refusing to be ignored.

I liked him.

Too much.

And now all of my progress-every bit of confidence I had slowly built-was unraveling at the seams. I had been doing so well, learning how to talk, how to exist in a world filled with people who laughed and loved and lived so effortlessly.

But the moment I realized my feelings, it was like something inside me had frozen. Like I had regressed into the girl I had always been-quiet, withdrawn, stuck on the outside looking in.

Because how could I act normal around Gojo when everything about him made my heart ache?

His presence was impossible to ignore. The way he moved, so effortlessly graceful despite his ridiculous height, the way his voice always carried that teasing lilt, never fully serious, yet somehow always watching, always noticing. And those eyes-those endless, shifting blues-so sharp, so knowing.

I hated that he had become my favorite color.

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear him enter.

Didn’t notice his presence until a voice, warm and amused, broke through the silence.

“You’re acting weird.”

I jolted, heart leaping into my throat as my pen slipped from my fingers, clattering against the desk.

Gojo leaned against the doorway, arms crossed lazily over his chest. The dim light from the windows caught the edges of his hair, making the strands almost silver against the shadowed backdrop of the hall. His blindfold was gone, and those striking, inhumanly bright eyes were fixed directly on me.

I forced myself to breathe.

“I—” My voice caught, too dry, too stiff. I swallowed. “I’m not acting weird.”

Gojo tilted his head, his smile widening ever so slightly. “That’s exactly what someone acting weird would say.”

I didn’t respond.

Because he was right.

Instead, I lowered my gaze, focusing on the scattered papers in front of me, willing my pulse to settle down to its usual rythm.

Gojo sighed dramatically, stepping fully into the room. “You used to laugh at my jokes.”

I glanced up. “I never laughed at your jokes.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning a wounded expression. “Ouch. That’s just cruel.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, resisting the urge to smile.

Gojo studied me for a moment longer before moving toward my desk, leaning down just enough to invade my space, his voice dropping to something quieter.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

I froze.

The words weren’t a question.

I didn’t know what to say, how to refute something so painfully true.

“I haven’t—”

Gojo raised an eyebrow.

I sighed, “I really have not. Not intentionally.”

Lie.

For a moment, he didn’t speak.

The weight of his gaze lingered, steady and unyielding, as if he was trying to peel back my layers, trying to see something I wasn’t willing to show.

And then-

“If someone’s been bothering you, you know I can deal with them, right?”

I startled, blinking up at him. “What?”

Gojo’s voice was light, but there was something underneath it. He was serious. “I’m just saying. If someone’s making you uncomfortable, I could ruin their life. Legally or illegally. Dealer’s choice.”

I let out a surprised laugh, too caught off guard to stop it.

Gojo grinned. “There it is.”

My cheeks flushed.

I turned away, pretending to fix my papers, pretending that my heart wasn’t trying to break through my ribs.

Because this was exactly why I had been avoiding him.

Because even when he was joking, even when he was being utterly ridiculous- there was genuine care beneath it.

And it was dangerous.

Because it made me want to hope.

"Seriously, if you're in trouble, let me know. If someone here or outside of the school has b-"

I cut him off, "Thank you, really. But it's not that, I promise."

The room was quiet for a moment as Gojo studied my face. The way his eyes looked into mine, it was as if he was trying to see right through them and into my soul for answes

After a few seconds he let out a small hum, leaning against the desk. “Alright, fine. Be all mysterious and broody.”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched upward.

Gojo smirked, pleased.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

The silence stretched between us, filled only by the rustling of the wind and the distant sound of cicadas outside.

And I could only think about how I was supposed to get myself out of this mess.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #gojo angst #gojo fluff

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onceinamillionposter · 3 days ago

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Yandere!L&D band headcannons

a/n : i literally just felt silly so I mean why not

Lead Vocalists : Rafayel

Drums: Sylus

Guitarist : Zayne

Guitarist : Xavier

Lead rapper : Caleb

With you as the manager !

Right off the bat, it was hell. You got fired from your last gig because your last managing job didn’t quite work out with a whole money laundering scheme being run behind the scenes and you having no idea, you were broke to say the least.

That was before you got that DM, the old manager of the L&D boys is retiring , and apparently you would be a good fit- although your face was all over the news. You practically jumped to the opportunity, signing your life away as you knew it.

You got situated slowly, being introduced to the members - Caleb and you hit it right off the bat , as well as Xavier and Rafayel but Zayne and Sylus were quite distant.

You learnt about them, Caleb would often pick on the others , Rafayel would be trouble just for the fun of it , Zayne was busy reading books and sketching new designs for the band and Sylus was often talking to two twins? You never pried and he never told. Xavier would always be asleep on the common room couch but would wake up when you were desperate for things done.

You had gotten used to the routine, managing accounts would have Rafayel sitting scrolling on his phone in your office often asking ,”Do your eyes not get tired looking at the screen? Why don’t we just go out!” Often you were able to get him to stop bothering you but sometimes he would drag you out regardless making it a bit too intimate.

When it was spring cleaning day , you and Zayne often bonded in silence, sometimes you asked the him about his interests, learning he’s a fan of medicine and drawing anatomy which garnered your attention so you would discuss about what you knew.

Sylus and you would work out at the gym, turning into a competition sometimes. He would help you box and you would show him pilates which he never (openly) struggled with. Sometimes you guys would go on morning runs - very early runs just so people don’t get the wrong idea.

Caleb, and you would bond over board games - monopoly, uno, hell even chess! Anything to keep the day moving. Also investing in the newest consoles (he has the bank of a billionaire he just wanted to tease) , and surprising you with them became normal. Just dance was an interesting time!

And finally Xavier, you and him watched movies and shows together and it was so fun - for you - often enough Xavier just fell asleep but when he woke up, you would cook together or at least try. He burnt more than cooked but that way okay, cause in the end the cupcakes were edible- sure they weren’t the best but they were consumable (when you look past the dark crust)!

You usually had to help them get things set up, stages, events and outfits. Everytime the tailor came in you figured that you would be sitting in a different room but for some reason or the other, everyone - minus Zayne - found a reason for you to be taking their measurements. Shirtless , might I add.

Rafayel claimed the tailor was incompetent - as if a novice like yourself would be any better , Caleb said that the tailor kept scratching at him - you took a peak at the nails and they were the dullest acrylic’s you had ever seen , Xavier said they made him uncomfortable but they had a squeaky clean record last time you checked and Sylus - ever honest - simply said “I hate them.” (you had to make them sign a non disclosure agreement after all of this)

One way or another you slowly were apart of their daily routines. But then the stranger things came, the weird lack of dating claims, back before you became manager there was tons of women that were accused of being with them but suddenly it was quiet. Too quiet, and then the first leak of you came with you and Sylus in an uncomfortably ,weirdly, intimate position. Slowly the media turned heads, it was strange it had been awhile since they had been in. any romantic spectacles and the media love drama.

Another time was Rafayel holding your hand and you holding his plushies he won at the arcade, him dragging you to the next stand. At the time it was anything but romantic but now it looked like a common date? To say the media blew up was a surprise, you had to practically beg Rafayel to make a video clarifying it was just getting him new stuff for his room.

Again a stupid photo really, Caleb holding your clip board so high you had to get on your tippy toes, it was backstage so you had to guess it was the people backstage who were working that took that awfully blurry photo- a pain it was really.

You and Zayne- to your surprise- also got a photo! Hooray! You took him out to satisfy his sweet tooth, he insisted he couldn’t work without it - (he just wanted you to himself) - maybe it was the setting? It being a kitty cafe but you know what - you still don’t know but it garnered attention , another tweet to the main profile for the boys.

But the worst, Xavier resting his head on your shoulder after a long day at the studio. He was so close, too close for you to even make an excuse at the time. But either way the criticism rolled in,

“L&D boys pass around,” “Manager managing all 5 boys”, “Common whore?” It frustrated you so deeply you wished to quit the job as much as you were payed , deciding it wasn’t worth it. But you didn’t know , they weren’t giving you up like that. Not when they slowly loved you, not yet.

#zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #lads rafayel #lads caleb #lads xavier #lads mc #lads zayne #lads x reader #yandere lads #yandere love and deepspace #yandere caleb #yandere zayne #yandere xavier #yandere sylus #yandere rafayel

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itoshiabi · 18 hours ago

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How I think your first meeting will be with blue lock characters

Pt.2: Rin, Shidou, Hiori, Kaiser.

Pt.1 - Here

Itoshi Rin- The Stray Cat Situation

You crouched down, trying to coax a stray cat out from under a bench when a tall shadow loomed over you.

"That's not gonna work," a bored voice said.

Looking up, you saw a sharp-eyed guy with dark hair staring at you, arms crossed.

"I wasn't asking for advice," you muttered.

He sighed. "Tch. You're doing it wrong."

Before you could argue, he squatted beside you, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a protein bar. He broke off a tiny piece and placed it near the cat.

Within seconds, the cat cautiously stepped forward.

"…Huh," you admitted. "Guess you're not completely useless. Anyway, thanks!"

His eye twitched. "Whatever."

Shidou Ryusei – The Street Fight Interruption

You were heading home when you spotted a commotion in an alley. A blond guy with pink streaks was grinning wildly while a group of men yelled at him.

"You bastard!" one of them growled.

"C"mon, one more round?" the blond taunted, clearly enjoying himself.

Before things escalated, you pulled out your phone. "Should I call the cops?"

Shidou turned, eyes locking onto you. Then he laughed.

"Damn, you're bold," he smirked, walking over like he hadn’t just been fighting. "Wanna grab a bite instead?"

"…Are you serious?"

"Why not?"

And that's how you met the most chaotic person in your life

Hiori Yo- The Rainy Bus Stop

You were stuck at a bus stop with no umbrella, watching the rain pour down, when someone beside you quietly spoke.

"You can stand under mine, if you want."

You turned to see a boy with soft blue hair, holding an umbrella big enough for two.

"You sure?" you asked.

He nodded. "I don't mind."

As you both stood there, sharing the small space, he glanced at you.

"You don't like the rain?"

You shrugged. "It's nice to watch, but not fun when you’re drenched."

He hummed in agreement.

The bus arrived, and before stepping on, you smiled. "Thanks, umbrella hero."

His face turned slightly red. "…It's nothing."

But as he watched you leave, he realized he kind of hoped he'd see you again.

Michael Kaiser – The Airport Stranger

Your flight was delayed, and you were stuck at the airport, sitting near a guy who looked like he belonged on a magazine cover.

Bored, you glanced at him, only to find him already smirking at you.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

You rolled your eyes. "I was just wondering why someone like you isn't surrounded by fans."

He leaned back, clearly enjoying the conversation. "Maybe I wanted a break. But now I've found something interesting."

You scoffed. "You don't even know me."

Kaiser chuckled. "Not yet. But I've got time before my flight.'

To your surprise, he kept talking to you, finding ways to make the time pass with his playful arrogance. By the time the announcements came, he grinned.

"See you around, Schatz."

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angelbarelywrites · 2 days ago

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♡ leather and lace | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; second person pov + gender neutral language- you wear a dress but this is absolutely still for my masc and fellow nb slasher fans too

♡cw; stockholm syndrome ass relationship, very suggestive content, horny reader?? lol

♡ notes; we are so back. maybe sort of, i feel like this might actually suck.

the title is silly and very straightforward but i like stevie nicks and thought it was cute <3

also the vibe of the dress, thin ass sundresses are such a good plot device 😩

also also i wasn’t sure where to end this so it’s kind of a cliffhanger for a potential smutty sequel?? lmk if you even want more tommy ig

okay mwah love you goodbye

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

“It’s kind of big on me,” You told Luda Mae softly, swishing the skirt slightly. The dress hung past your knees and the straps wanted to slip off your shoulders “Ionno if it looks good.”

You felt vulnerable. Naked, in such a thin, loose white gown. You didn’t like that Monty and Hoyt would see you in it. Or…the other one. Thomas. The one that made your cheeks feel hot and your stomach twist in knots. He looked at you like you were food when you’d first encountered him…but now you’d been there a few days, he avoided you, like you made him nervous in one way or another.

“Oh, nonsense, you look lovely. I’m sure Tommy will love it. Besides, I can take it in at the waist if you really need, maybe find you a nice ribbon to go ‘round it.” She pinched the fabric to make it hug your form tighter and you went red.

“I think it’s good like this. But. Um, it’s kind of cool in here. Maybe I can wear a shawl...”

“Don’t you worry about that- you’re going to go outside and get some sun. Tommy has chores to do but I’ve got work. Can’t have you by yourself all day.” She affectionately pinched your cheek.

You gave a soft noise but knew complaint was futile. At least it wasn’t the Sheriff- even Luda wanted you kept far from his leering gaze. You followed her, barefoot in the soft grass until you got to a small clearing. There was a shed, and a barn, and lumber waiting to be chopped.

You thought you’d get out of it as she sat you down, maybe Tommy was busy. Maybe he was looking for coeds to kill somewhere else, and Luda would let you stay in your quiet little room where you could pretend you weren’t a hostage. Heavy footsteps told you were wrong after a long moment.

You twisted a blade of grass in your hands as Luda whispered sternly to him. Something about “stay” and “take” and “sooner rather than later”. You tried not to think about it. The man huffed exasperatedly and his mother swatted him softly before she marched off - his back still to you as she disappeared over the hill. You were grateful he ignored you and yet unnerved by the fact.

Thomas kept his head down, face obstructed by his hair even more than usual as he grabbed a few large branches from the lumber pile and brought them to a sturdy oak stump. Still eyeing him warily you leaned back, naturally on guard but also curious. He was so strong it seemed impossible. He was bulky-obviously- but in the real way lumberjacks and construction workers were with thick arms and a soft stomach. His hair was nice. Dark and thick, and not greasy like you’d expect. You’d been close enough when he’d slung you over his shoulder to tell it was soft. And his hands were huge and calloused - you knew that from way he’d held onto you then, massive palm on your thigh to keep you steady. You had been wearing shorts and…

You gave a soft sigh, not realizing you were still staring at him until his head whipped around at the sound. You felt your ears burn and coughed, looking away. He was down to just an undershirt as he’d started chopping the lumber - ironically using an axe instead of that chainsaw he’d been swinging around a few nights back. “Sorry- I- don’t stop on account of….”

Your voice died in your throat as he walked towards you, stopping barely a foot away. He looked concerned- more so as he knelt and you flinched. God you still couldn’t tell if you wanted him on top of you or a thousand miles away. He brushed your hair back and— you giggled quietly. He was checking your forehead, thinking you were sick.

Thomas scowled a bit at you, sitting back as you looked up at him “I shouldn’t laugh. But that was sweet. I’m not sick- don’t think so, at least.”

He tilted his head at you. He really didn’t talk. That’d make things difficult…at least at first.

“It’s just kind of hot out…plus- um- oh—“ You blinked as his hand brushed the hem of the dress, where you’d just been rubbing your fingers against the lace “…it’s not my usual style. But it’s a pretty dress.”

He grunted and nodded, looking over your body quite shamelessly. In the sunlight you were sure he was able to see much more than considered appropriate. Fuck it, you thought. He was hot, his mama wanted him to like you, and most importantly he could protect you from the Sheriff and whatever weird bullshit was yet to come.

You hummed and shifted to sit back a bit more, taking his hand before he could pull away fully “…you have big hands…I can tell you work with them…but you made your mask right?”

He hesitated, staring at what almost seemed like disbelief at you before slowly nodding. You hummed and touched his cheek, rubbing a thumb on the leather. It was surprisingly soft, and so was his gaze. Whatever he was covering didn’t matter or even really interest you- you just cared you that you could see his chapped lips beneath it.

“…Tommy?” You cooed. He startled but met your eye. “Can I kiss you?”

He gave a swift and silent answer, pressing his lips to yours with a fervor that stole your breath. He was clumsy and rough, but so desperate that you couldn’t help but draw him closer, to give him what he needed. If you were touch starved he was a thousand times so, holding on to you so tight you were afraid your hips might bruise. Afraid was a strong word- you’d proudly wear any mark from that man.

As soon as you’d thought you had some control there he had you, dazed and unkempt straddling his lap. He ran a thumb over your lower lip, admiring your addled state with a contented grunt.

“…we…we should go inside. Your mom might be home soon.”

He shook his head and suddenly pulled you down- not to pin you, but to be held, his face buried your neck and his mask rubbing against your skin. As he toyed with the hem of the dress again you hummed a tune and played with his hair.

“Tommy?”

He looked up.

“…do you think they want us to go steady?”

He hesitated then tapped his left ring finger. You went red as you suddenly realized what he meant- they wanted you to get married.

“Ah…well— how about steady first?”

He nodded quickly and nuzzled your neck again.

“Good. Cuz I think steady would still cover slippin’ into the shed to have more fun before your mama gets home.”

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shun-ie · 2 days ago

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₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝ the past, the present, and the future (rhys larsen)

content : longest fanfic yet, rhys larsen, differentpath!au, amab!reader, slowburn, sexual awakening?, strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers, mentions of trauma/ptsd, healing the inner child, ooc-ish rhys, unprotected sex, slight mention of fingering, bttm!malereader, ceo!reader, mentions of kinks, lmk if i missed anything :))

shun-note : rhys larsen is not my oc. he belongs to ana huang, the author of twisted games. i also noticed that there weren't a lot of twisted series fics (or there's none at all), so i made one. missing some details, but i wanted to post this already so it doesn't rot in my drafts lol

[not proofread]

m.list !

cold hearted. that's what rhys larsen first thought of y/n l/n, the ceo of l/n conglomerate. after being the bodyguard for bridget von ascheberg, the crown princess of eldorra, he took up another commission to drown away the ache that was left when he parted from the woman he spent his two years protecting.

y/n l/n was vastly different from any of those rhys had guarded in the past.

y/n put his work first. sleep? he'd sign and read through papers until he collapsed and died. eat? he'd starve just to entertain the board of his company. he did however, keep a strict hygiene and exercise routine. in those two months with y/n, he never once saw the frown leave his lips. it was like it was permanently scarred on his face. the total opposite of bridget.

rhys was offered the job just after he freshly resigned from his post. he was reluctant to accept the commission, but accepted once he found out it was a man he would be guarding this time. he did all the background checks, read y/n's information, did security protocols, just like any other clients he had previously.

and as he trailed behind the ceo, who parted the crowd of paparazzi and 'fans' like the red sea, he was brought back to the moment when he first met the indifferent man in front of him.

"this is sir y/n l/n. lately, he's being harassed by paparazzi. he has been followed home seven times in the past month . . . ambush interviews . . . and he can't eat in restaurants anymore," the secretary listed as she spoke to rhys via request of y/n's father who took care of affairs in china. "he normally does things alone without bodyguards, but this time people have gone too far," she further explains, pushing an open folder with photos taken by the paparazzi.

they consisted of y/n sitting in a booth at a restaurant, entering sister company buildings, walking through the park, and even leaving his car as he approached his house. it was never this bad with bridget.

as he examined the photos, alongside the blueprints of y/n's house and the company headquarters he requested beforehand, the secretary says something that catches his attention.

"sir l/n doesn't talk much. so don't feel hurt if he gives you the cold shoulder when you guys meet," hurt? hilarious. i don't even know him well enough to be hurt. "-he most likely will ignore you." arrogant? stuck up?

it was then when he met y/n l/n that there was something else. from the way the ceo's eyebrows furrowed, stress shadowing his tense but elegant form, as he scanned the papers in his hand, a cup of something in his other.

"miss clarke, i have another meeting with missus barett on wednesday at seven pm. add that to my schedule. and move my call with mister harris around nine pm after the meeting." he then stopped in his tracks, taking notice of the other presence in the room. he blinks, eyeing the large man sitting in front of his secretary. long hair, broad muscular frame, gunmetal eyes, and a scar slashing through his left eyebrow. he wore all black. "you must be the bodyguard my father hired. rhys larsen, correct me if i am wrong."

y/n's voice was full on business, leaving no trace of any other emotions other than serious and commanding. words rolled out of his mouth like smooth silk and his earlier strides could rival fairies that pranced around gracefully as they took flight.

"yes and if i may, i'll be looking around the building for any security measures," rhys got straight to the point. there was no point dancing around the issue. no point in introductions, they knew each other well enough. it was obvious. his indifference masked the slight curiosity that sparked as he watched y/n disappear into his office, where he caught a glimpse of neatly stacked paperwork and the large window that overlooked the city from above.

even as he drove away from the airport, he knew nothing about the man he's protecting. unlike bridget who he had arguments and decent conversations with, y/n only gave him one or two word responses before silence loomed over them like a cloud everyday for the two months they were together. the basic information about the ceo was nothing compared to the behavior, habits, likes, and dislikes of the crown princess.

he took casual glances from his rear view mirror, observing as y/n scrolled through his hundreds of emails, noting down important information on his pocket journal.

rhys has never seen y/n stop working.

"you're ruining yourself." it was just a thought, he never intended for it to slip. he curses in his mind.

y/n hums, never looking up from what he was doing. "why is that?" he knew exactly why, but he chose to ignore it. he wore himself down most of the time, all the time. he never intended to stop, but the words rang clearly in his mind. you're ruining yourself.

"it just looks like you're burning both ends of a candle, trying to manage yourself and work," rhys focused on the road, "but you can't."

y/n has never disobeyed his instructions which he was thankful for as it made everything easier. he never really did go out as much as bridget did. even then, scheduled events and meetings were always smooth as rhys had planned it to be.

y/n wasn't as hard headed, outgoing, and filled with fire. not like bridget. rhys didn't even know why he was comparing two polar opposites. but being with him, he thought of the crown princess in eldorra who offered him extension of his contract, which he refused. and now he's here.

"i work . . . because it distracts me from my reality."

y/n has never talked about why he does what he does. it felt right in the moment. rhys has never pried answers out of him, partially because he didn't converse with him, however his eyes told him so. those stormy grey eyes that showed nothing but genuine curiosity even though he tried to hide it.

rhys didn't know what to think as they reached the end of the highway. two months and y/n finally spoke a full sentence. rapport was a card he had set to the side because of their circumstances, now he might as well consider putting it back on the table. he saw y/n put his work down, temporarily ceasing his work which were probably with a month or two deadline, and relax against the seat.

"i hate thinking of other things, other people," y/n lets out an empty chuckle, finding rhys' eyes through the rear view mirror, "isn't that why you took the commission to bodyguard me? to forget about the previous client you protected? we're a bit alike, you and i. we do things that would take our minds off things."

it felt like a bucket of ice cold water washed over rhys as he heard those words. we do things that would take our minds off things. his grip tightened on the steering wheel, gazing away from those sad e/c eyes that ingrained themselves in his memory. he never thought his longest interaction with his client would be so depressing, yet eye opening. he knew of three things.

one. he is trying to take his mind off of someone.

two. y/n works to take his mind off of something or someone.

and three. y/n wasn't cold hearted. only seemed like it.

rhys stood at the sidelines, alert and ready. his eyes wandered around the event, as if looking for any threats that would suddenly appear out of nowhere. he then dragged his gaze towards his client, who was in the middle of a group of other businessmen and women. he shared a tight and practiced smile, trying to act polite and respectful as the night dragged on.

y/n wore a tailored suit, it was simple yet elegant. his hair was slicked back, lips full and glossy from constantly licking it as he swirled the wine in his glass. he was total perfection. a face that would leave anyone in ruins. but rhys caught the slight tremble of his hand and his eyes flashing to different places, as he squeezed out of the group that huddled around him. it looked as if he was panicking, though he regained himself when he knocked back the wine. rhys almost left his spot if it weren't for the pointed and reassuring look y/n shot his direction.

it was four months after that conversation. their relationship was less tense and less quiet. y/n now regularly held conversation with rhys, getting his opinions on philosophical and theoretical things. sometimes they spoke about the geographical locations where the company could build a new branch of resort. it never trespassed the gates of personal life.

when rhys asked about something he did for himself, y/n blanked him and changed the topic.

"since you're working because of something or someone, what do you do for yourself?" it was a question that he came up with as they got deeper into the conversation about places that could potentially become a tourist spot. rhys didn't always like talking because it included emotions, but with y/n it felt natural. it was during these one on ones that he caught glimpses and pieces of the person behind the cold ceo exterior.

y/n blinked, turning away and opening another topic about attractions. "what about a butterfly house . . ." rhys sighed through his nose quietly. during the first day he said that he doesn't become included in his clients' lives and that he wasn't there to be a friend, confidant, or anything else. but looking at how y/n tensed when he even hears the words family and yourself . . .

rhys knew y/n at least needed a someone. we're a bit alike, you and i.

it didn't take long for him to notice the signs of ptsd. the way y/n only spoke about his father, excluding his mother in conversations. avoiding places that had closets that contained cleaning supplies or were used for storage of documents. there were also times rhys heard shuffling in the kitchen way past midnight even when they got home around ten or eleven in the evening.

as much as rhys tried to ignore the sense of care, not wanting things to repeat, he couldn't help but feel a bit of fear that y/n wouldn't come out of hi bedroom. would he fail to protect him because of how he lived outside and inside work? terror flashed through him as he thought about it. he's working too much, he'll kill himself before he could even reach forty.

and as of that moment, his heart thrummed against his rib cage. he screamed profanities in his mind as he lost sight of the client he was supposed to protect. he bulldozed through the people, ignoring their glares and mumbles as his eyes darted around for y/n.

there was another thing he feared. repetition of the past.

being with bridget for over two years changed a lot of things for him. never has he breached the contract rules until her. he's hasn't felt anything like it until her. he prayed to the gods that she would be the last. hopefully.

as he rounded a corner, he caught sight of a silhouette through a slightly ajar door. he pushed it open and found y/n sitting on the middle of the floor of the empty ballroom. intricate designs decorated the walls and ceiling, pieces of furniture finishing off the classic look.

"i know that you think of your previous client when you guard me."

it made rhys tense at the door. in all the years of his life, he was the one to read the other, not the other way around. something about y/n challenged him. they were simply a mystery to each other. unlike bridget who knew about his past and him knowing hers, y/n and him knew nothing about each other aside from the basics.

"when i look at you . . . it looks like it pains you to be guarding me. you think you're good at hiding it, but you're really not," y/n droned out, looking at the night sky through the windows. "during the first two weeks, i noticed some habits you retained from your commission before this one. it seems to me there was more to this certain client, that's why you took on the job of protecting me. something must have happened."

rhys stiffened ever so slightly, feeling a spike of both irritation and astonishment. he didn't like this. but at the same time, he also felt a bit of relief that someone knew. he couldn't lie about anything. something did happen with bridget, but he had hardened his heart, ignoring the twisting ache when he left. he left her when he was claiming her in his mind.

"you should think of resigning as my bodyguard," y/n gets up from the floor, patting down his suit and fixing his collar and cuffs, "i think you should go back to your previous client. i can find another bodyguard."

rhys immediately closed their distance in five strides. he's six inches taller and towers over y/n easily with his broad and muscular figure. his eyes doesn't shy away from the heated connection of misunderstandings and mystery that brewed between them in a steady pace for the past six months and threatened to explode like a nuke. "i wanted to be your bodyguard. a client from before doesn't change anything. it shouldn't. protecting you is number one priority." his words were like knives slicing into the tense atmosphere. he didn't want his client doubting him.

silence hung heavy over them, both of them not once backing away from the fiery eye contact. rhys was right, despite his relationship with bridget, that doesn't deter him from doing his job. his job is solely focused on his current client. to protect y/n l/n.

"mister rhys, you truly do surprise me." y/n turns away from his bodyguard and brushes past him, feeling a tug at his heart. he places a hand on his chest, he clenches it and lets it drop back to his side. "i'm exhausted. let me just bid my farewells, then we can leave this godforsaken event."

rhys stared at the back of y/n as they headed back to the garden. the faux personality that he reserved for the attendees returned, treating the man he just spoke to in the ballroom as nothing but another him. no, he didn't have a personality disorder, that's for sure. he just likes hiding behind masks. he definitely fits the role of a ceo.

a year passed. rhys continued his job as the ceo's bodyguard. he really fit the role. during the first week, he memorized y/n's schedule, plans, and the blueprints of the headquarters and estate. the following months, less paparazzi flocked y/n and there were occasional attempted assaults (which was new). he was completely amazing.

y/n watched the man he had been with for one year and a half. since that night during the garden event, a lot of things have shifted. their once debatable and business talks transformed a bit more personal varying from favorites and elaborated opinions on preferences. there were times they strayed away from one topic to another as he signed papers and went over some of them. it took away the ache of loneliness he felt over the years he took his place as ceo.

where his company would be the words he read and the calls he took and the coffee curbed his exhaustion he can never get rid off, he felt lighter than he did before rhys became his bodyguard.

rhys sat on the couch flushed against the trimmed walls of the office, furnished with bookshelves, a glass coffee table, and small trinkets here and there. he could feel y/n's eye drilling holes into the side of his head. he gave him a glance only to see the man turn to his papers, pretending to digest the words printed on them.

y/n had him sit on the couch, getting a slight headache from seeing and hearing him standing at the door and occasionally walking around. rhys found it amusing how the cold hearted ceo felt emotions such as frustration and glints of sadness when the world saw him as someone who used people for his gain and didn't feel a drop of guilt.

throughout the year, he got to know a lot of things about y/n. he loved reading, not his paperwork but novels. he spotted some books laying around but didn't question them and instead, skimmed through the pages. he specifically liked crime and fantasy. he also liked jazz. there was a shelf of cassettes and vinyl records near the fireplace.

"what happened between you and your previous client?" the question brought rhys' attention to y/n again. this one was very personal. were they close enough to even talk about it? he did say that what happened in costa rica stayed in costa rica.

rhys sat back, pondering before concluding. "if i were to answer that, you have to give me something of equal value," the idea of exchanged caught y/n by surprise. interest flickers through his eyes as amusement showed on his face.

"are you bargaining?"

rhys laughs lightly, the sound squeezing at the ceo's heart. "it's business."

y/n reached for his chest as he gulped. he brushed the feeling off and nods, "i like that. let's talk business then." a devilish and heart stopping smirk lifted the corners of rhys' mouth.

"i noticed on the blueprints that you don't have any room that's as small as a pantry. even your walk in closet is as big as your bedroom. why is that?" rhys had an inkling, an assumption, but he wanted it to come out of y/n's lips. he saw his client huff a breath, a thought crossing his mind, before slumping, regal self gone.

"i have ptsd. it was from my mother. when i was younger, she had this twisted sense of duty. she packed my schedule with a lot of lessons. mostly languages and subjects related to business. if i have a low score, she'd lock me in my room for a few hours. if i failed, she'd lock me in a closet. to distract myself, i indulged in hobbies and other things. she found out and locked me in for i don't know long. all i know is i was hungry and thirsty. it didn't take long for my father to find me, he had just come home from a business trip. the house was a mess after that," his voice wavered slightly, but regained its steadiness as he thought about his father. no amount of therapy sessions cured his fear of enclosed spaces.

when he tried to overcome it once, his lungs constricted, he felt nausea and sweaty, he couldn't think at all. he felt so helpless.

y/n was silent for a while before shaking his head, trying to rid of himself of the resurfaced memories. one he tried to forget but couldn't. not when they lingered in the back of his mind. if he couldn't get over his fears, then he couldn't get over his past. so he'd ignore it as long as possible.

"we're alike, you and i." rhys reused the words y/n had told him a year ago, this time removing the words a bit. and true to the bargain, he told him all about bridget von ascheberg. as soon as he mentioned her name, recognition flooded through y/n's eyes. he listened attentively, nodding and humming here and there. (read twisted games for better understanding) understanding settled in the air. comfortable silence followed soon after, both returning to what they were doing before their heart to heart.

rhys gazed at the man sitting at the desk. in a timespan shorter than his time with bridget, he and y/n knew each other in a deeper level. maybe it's because they were both men? or was it because the silence and waiting for the starting few months pushed everything into place? maybe it's because y/n took his time being comfortable first before conversing? he didn't know, there were a lot of possibilities.

he was certain of one thing. there was more to y/n's story.

three months passed. aside from the company parties, meetings, and alumni event, everything was smooth sailing for y/n. he did receive death threats once or twice, but it was all sorted out by rhys who stuck to him like glue. he either trailed behind him like a scary dog or stood beside him when having idle chats with other people.

they started eating at the table together, as y/n's father demanded one day during one of his visits and berated his son for not asking rhys any sooner. the latter has become less alert when they were in a room alone together, not like before where he would pace at times. now he sat reading or sketching, occasionally focusing as if listening or looking for something.

it was the first time rhys saw y/n in casual wear. jeans, shirt, and a jacket. his father had told him to go have fun for one day, then he could go back to working until the day he dies. so there they were, at an amusement park.

a sparkle of childish curiosity passed through y/n's mind as his eyes went from one ride to another. its been a decade since the last time he had fun. the thought twisted at his heart. where everyone enjoyed normality, he couldn't. fun time was a luxury for him when he was around ten to fifteen. he had to work hard for it, but it was only brief. how he wished to experience it all.

"is it your first time in an amusement park?" rhys stood beside him, still in all black, though his outfit was a bit more laidback. he stood tall, oozing with a sense of responsibility. he received a mute nod.

the longer y/n looked around, the more he felt overwhelmed. his lips quivered as he swallowed hard. sadness embraced him. the heaviness of the situation weighed on him. all those stolen childhood days could've been spent being reckless and facing the consequences later, having fun, making friends, and exploring life. "i never thought i'd see a rollercoaster in real life."

rhys followed y/n around. those books that laid around the house held utmost significance. they were worlds that he could imagine himself in, leaving the reality that was set in stone by his mother. universes where he could be the main character of the story, even if it's just for a little while. he felt the sliver of happiness his mother depraved him of.

they walked around the park buying souvenirs and trying out food. they went on the dropper and dropper. y/n looked at the cars of the ferris wheel and refused to get on even when rhys mentioned that the view was nice at the very top. for their last stop, they decided on the haunted mansion. it was the main attraction.

as they entered the mansion, they were covered in darkness. there were dim lights that led the way. there were many twists and at one of the turns, rhys and y/n got separated. the latter looked around in wonder, a burst of excitement guiding him through the maze of halls. the cold hearted man was hidden away in the suit of the ceo, in casual clothes he was just y/n.

just as he was about to run off somewhere, he was shoved against the wall and locked in someplace dark. he furrowed his eyebrows and took a step only to realize there was limited space. his eyes widened as he tried to move, feeling around only to find to familiar structure of two closet doors trapping him.

"hello!?" he tried to open the door only to find out it's been wedged closed by an overturned chair. he slams his palms against the wood, sweat rolling down his forehead, suddenly feeling hot. "let me out!"

his hands slid against the frame, pressing himself against the wall of the closet as if trying to make more space. he hears his pulse in his ears, eyes darting around frantically trying to find some sort of light in the blinding darkness. he feels oxygen leave his lips in pants, he's light headed. "please . . ."

he slides down the wall as the tears of the past come rushing to the present. tears slide down his cheeks as he becomes the helpless child he once was. "please . . . i'm sorry" he wheezes out, his mind flashing back to the old closet in their old estate.

cool air brushed against his sweaty forehead and he's pulled out of the closet and into a set of arms. "l/n? l/n, stay with me." rhys pats y/n's cheek, trying to wake him up from his episode. tears kept pouring as he muttered nonsense. his heart was racing too fast. "why the fuck did you lock him in a closet!?" he barked at the actors, who flinched back from the scalding tone.

"it's part of the experience. it was supposed to be for two minutes," the manager calmly de-escalated the situation.

rhys scowled, supporting y/n who was out of it. "take it out of the fucking experience." he hears the disoriented man mumble something before taking him someplace else where they could have a bit of privacy.

"thank you . . ." y/n stared blankly at the people walking by. he was sitting on a bench. he didn't know what to say. the last time he had an episode was when he tried to overcome his ptsd six years back. it didn't work, instead he had a similar experience but a tad worse.

rhys stood before him, blocking him from the nosy people who tried to peer. his arms were crossed, flexing as the irritation from earlier slowly faded. they were separated by two actors. he was forced into a pit of fake bones and when he was out he was faced with a serious situation. y/n's ptsd episode.

"it's my job."

y/n sighed, shoulders slumping. even on the one day where everything should be normal, it still turned out to be another traumatic day. the child that hid in the mansion of his mind always found his way out, replacing his current with the past. he hated how he couldn't even overcome being in a closet for five fucking minutes.

"no it's not. your job is to protect me from physical harm. but as of this moment, you eased my emotional harm. for that, i thank you," he raised his head and gave him a small smile. it felt foreign, but it felt right in the moment.

rhys' breath hitched. that damned smile that y/n gave. it was unexpected from someone who was frowning everyday. he felt that familiar tug on his heart. one he didn't want to feel, but couldn't kill. y/n looked gorgeous being showered in the golden sunset.

that smile . . . it looked good on him.

another year had gone by. a lot had changed since that day at the amusement park. almost three years, a lot of things changed.

y/n was a bit more expressive with emotions, only with rhys and his father however. he slowly started easing off his work and had rest days. despite having said days, he still could only get in, two at maximum, hours of sleep. he was eating more. rhys was there through everything. another constant in his life.

"i was thinking of a beach resort in areas where resorts aren't that popular," the chief marketing officer proposed, standing confidently in front of the board officers. y/n sat at the head of the long table reading through the hard copy of the presentation. rhys stood to his side like a hawk. since that day in the amusement park, he didn't want another shove incident, even though there weren't any closets nearby.

y/n flipped through the papers once again and sighed, "our company shouldn't only be resorts. i need a proposition that steers away from the word resort. we can't market that forever." he moved his head from side to side and sighed as he felt that satisfying pop. he's been sitting listening to propositions for an hour and a half. his ass felt numb. "everyone, let's take ten."

as people filed out the room, y/n flipped through the rest of the propositions with a groan. it was so deep and stressed, it was attractive. rhys felt his cock stir with interest as he eyed the serious ceo.

he's been having urges. that tousled hair of y/n, he just wants to run his fingers through them and tug them back. those tense shoulders, he could fuck the stress out of him by bending him over the table.

rhys shook his head and cleared his mind. during the past year, he has been curious about sexuality. normally he didn't care, however now that he's feeling something for the same sex, he's been doing some research. it started off small, from bits of information and opinions of other people in the community until he got too deep and even discovered pornographic videos.

it would be a lie if he denied watching some videos, but it was for research purposes. all his life, he had always been interested in women, but since he met y/n, he has been questioning a lot of things in life. he wants it to stop. he had to remind himself that things from the past should never repeat.

as rhys had an inner conflict, y/n had his own as well. he tried to distract himself from the masculine presence behind him, acting as if he was going through the papers. it was half true, he was trying to ignore the glimpses of moments that flashed through his mind of these past two months where he relieved himself at the thought of his own bodyguard. he felt a bit shameful, but it felt so wrong and right at the same time. rhys had been uncovering a past he tried to keep buried. however, it resurfaced every time he saw him.

"you know . . . the reason my . . . mother locked me in the closet . . ." it was a random blurt out, but it was on his mind. rhys showed a sign he was listening. "i danced as a hobby. she didn't like it. she claims its girly. i'm also . . ." y/n trailed off with a thoughtful hum. "i've never really said this to anyone but my mother. i'm also into men." no matter how long its been.

rhys felt his stomach flip. he stared ahead of him, feeling a bit of relief. "good to know."

those three words made y/n's heart flutter. he hid the heat appearing on his cheeks, thankful that his back is turned to the bodyguard that tested and pushed him. but he had to ask, even though deep down he knew the answer, "what does that mean?"

"you have work to do."

three months passed, which makes three years. in those months, y/n came out to his father, who responded with an i suspected that. being the ceo, he was expected to negotiate. he did, though during those meetings, he couldn't avoid proposals like arranged marriage or marriage to merge companies. before he could answer, rhys was already there making his presence known, a frown on his face, scaring away other ceos. it got to the point where y/n only made phone calls for such meet-ups.

to rhys, its been hectic. to resist y/n's bold advances such as sliding a hand against his bicep, sometimes his chest. looking up at him through those lashes with big innocent eyes, even though they're far from it. that cute smile from the amusement park that seemed to be only reserved for him alone. and those sounds he lets out when he's stressed or working.

y/n was driving him insane. forget the contract, they can make a new one where he'd fuck the ceo into submission anytime and anywhere he wanted as long as he stayed his.

rhys knew y/n wanted him. he could tell from his actions and his words with underlying meanings. it was killing him to keep his hands to himself. if he could only reach out, wrap a hand around y/n's neck and kiss him like there's no tomorrow . . .

it was one in the morning, they had just gotten home. in the car, y/n proposed to play a game. two truths and one dare, in which they took turns. as they stepped into the warmth of the mansion, y/n came up with a question for rhys' chosen truth. in all honestly, he just wanted to entertain his client (hopefully to tire him out) so he could turn in for the night before he took him right there on the front door.

"what are your kinks?"

as the game progressed in the car, the questions got more inappropriate, definitely borderline breaching their contract.

"hair pulling . . . bondage you could say . . ." he listed off other kinks, fixing his shoes beside y/n's before entering after him. he could feel himself harden the more the other spoke to him about something sexual, as if interviewing him before having him fuck him senseless.

until that question made his heart stop. "would you kiss me?"

rhys slowly turns to y/n, who was looking at him with mild interest with a mix of arousal. he could feel it from the three feet distance between them. the way y/n's eyes traced his lips, dipping below his chin, and stopping at the bulge straining against the black pants.

y/n was sporting the same in his pants. after he admitted to liking men, it was never the same since then. it would never be the same. not when his heart tugs and flutters because of the man standing in front of him. not when his heart fell hard when he found him in the closet in that haunted house. not when they'd had all these one on one talks. through all he stayed.

"yes. would you like me to kiss you?" rhys returned the question as they neared each other, one foot apart. maybe his feelings started growing the moment the silence turned into small and slow conversations. or that time y/n acknowledged what he truly felt when he left bridget. maybe because they shared some similarities. or is it because y/n relied on him to take away the pain of loneliness of only thinking of the future, not allowing himself to heal from the past and appreciate the present.

"yes."

(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ rhys' pov

with that, i dove down and molded my lips against his. i guided his head, tilting my heard, pushing against him. his pants echoed in my ears, trapping him against the nearest wall, taking his breath away. when he tried to pull away, i chased his lips, claiming them once more.

when i pulled away, he looked awestruck. i kiss him hard. i press our clothes cocks together and i feel him hump against me, my hands caress down his body and kneads on his cheeks. grunts pour into my mouth as our tongues fight for dominance.

his legs hook around my hips and i carry him upstairs into the bedroom i claimed. i drop him onto the bed. "clothes off." i turn to grab lube and condoms in the drawers. when i turn around, my breath is almost caught in my throat.

the curves and groves of his body, the fullness of his skin, and the way it's begging for attention, makes me want to drop everything and just fuck him raw. i am well aware this is my second breach of contract. i had no reason to do this. this would be another hook-up and-

"breach of contract or not. resigning or not. once you fuck me and i like you, i'm yours and you're mine. i swear to fucking god, we're not arguing about it. we'll fuck it out too."

that was enough for me to push him against the mattress. i'm not asking him how he knew what i was thinking because most of the time it's like he could read my mind. but he did say, i wear my thoughts on my face. maybe it was something only he could do.

my thoughts never once wavered even as i scissored my fingers into y/n's hold, my eyes watching every contort of his face, every redness of his skin. the noise that fell like waterfalls from his swollen lips as i pressed against the bundle of nerves while he desperately pushes against my hand. i groan under my breath. it took a lot of self control to not just fuck him stupid and take away his walking ability.

everything in my mind felt silent as i admired the man under me, taking me inch by inch after throwing the condom on the other side of the room claiming to want to feel me fully and be filled with cum. that almost made me lose grip.

as i bottomed out, i almost immediately rutted my hips. it was so hot and i'm being squeezed tight but just right. i almost exploded right then and there. i felt him tighten his legs around my hips, uttering for me to go.

slowly i pulled out and pushed back in with a low groan. it felt good. so good. i started to pick up pace, slamming balls deep eliciting beautiful moans and whimpers that tickled my ears like a melody.

my hand found its place around his neck, pushing him back into the soft cushions. i apply light pressure and he cries out in pleasure.

"you're ge- hah~ getting b-bigger~ hng!~"

i felt his hands rub up and down against the scars on my back before they wounded around my neck, pulling me close. my nose traced his carotid as i planted kisses and nipped at his skin, my thrusts growing harsher and erratic.

i bit hard on his shoulder with a grunt as i felt him clamp around me, making me cum, shooting thick ropes of cum inside him. i felt spurts of warmth between us as y/n flinches and convulses from his high. he breathes heavily, a dopey smile on his face. i press a brief kiss on his lips and pull out. he groans and drapes an arm over his eyes.

"i mean what i said, whether you're my bodyguard or not. i like you and you're mine and i'm yours."

hearing that made my heart feel good. if there was a god out there, thank you lord for giving me a second chance. i laid beside him on my back. we both stare at the ceiling. under all that cold hard shell, he was very different. he warm warm and mellow. i was cold and barren. yet he thawed all that.

"can you i be your boyfriend?" y/n asked, interlacing our fingers together. it's been a long while since i've last been in a relationship. people say it's too late to try at my age. but it doesn't hurt to want and need. i crack a rare smile.

"whatever you want buttercup."

#shun-ie #male reader #fanfic #amab reader #male reader smut #twisted series #twisted games #rhys larsen #mlm #bottom male reader

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chaifootsteps · 2 days ago

Note

something about Viv trying to compare critics being told to sit down and shut up with fans feeling like they can't say they like hellaverse rubs me the wrong way, idk

I think it's because Viv so often feeds the worst bullies in her fandom by liking their tweets and never saying boo about any bad behavior. like fr, has she ever told her fans not to dogpile on critics? given the way she was happy to vague about the diregentlemen without even watching their work I kinda doubt it (and diregentlemen commented that they have know creators who are scared to talk about the show openly)

creators like cartoonshi have openly said they're not covering hellaverse anymore because they got lied on, threatened and harassed for critiquing it. and with people like sarcastic chorus making videos like "I've been critiquing this show with kid gloves but I'm out because it's not enjoyable anymore", that says a lot about what kind of reception anyone expects to receive for just saying they don't like something

do I believe someone might get made fun of online for saying they like hellaverse, especially with its notorious reputation? sure - and it sucks and they should be left alone to enjoy the show, as long as they're not pestering anyone.

do I believe it's at all equivalent to how stans have treated critics? no, not without anyone showing me proof that they've been threatened, lied about or harassed half as bad as critics of the show have been.

full disclosure, I'm the anon that wrote that way too long critical essay on a03 awhile back. I did it anonymously because I didn't want to be dogpiled by stans. I keep wanting to repurpose my essay into tumblr posts on an account solely for that so more can see it (and I can use images) but every time I consider it, the fear of being accused of absolutely buckwild shit holds me back. Hand on heart, I've never been in a fandom where I felt that way before

Couldn't have said it better. Is there bad behavior on the critical side? Without question. But Viv's stans have not only repeatedly harassed critics with death threats, rape threats, transphobic comments, and racist comments, they've outright bullied someone to death. A young person is no longer alive because of Vivziepop's fandom, and this is behavior Viv has praised and encouraged.

She should never be allowed to forget that.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #vivziepop critical #vivziepop fandom #actual blog post #image reply

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daydreamtofiction · 18 hours ago

Text

The Feature XXIV // Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader

Series Overview | Previous Part | First Part

Chapter Summary: (Female Reader) After the unpleasant encounter with Faye at the museum, Quinn awaits Ben's return.

Chapter Word Count: 7.5K

Chapter Warnings: Morally-grey reader (is she even morally grey anymore? Idk. We love a good character growth arc tho), strong language, adult and sexual themes, smut including: penetrative sex, overstimulation, toys. Readers must be 18+

Join the Tag List Here*

There was a lot you could have done with the last twelve days. You could have picked up a new language, or sailed to New York and back. You could have fermented your own vodka, learned piano or guitar, watched the entire Lord of the Rings series sixteen-and-a-half times over. But you hadn’t done any of those things. In fact, for twelve days you’d barely done anything at all.

Since the moment you’d left that museum, Faye’s words had followed you like a dark cloud, looming over you wherever you went, casting a shadow no matter how hard you tried to escape it. Your lips bore the evidence of your bad mood, bitten and raw from your relentless, anxious gnawing, and sleep had become an elusive companion, only claiming you once your body finally gave in to exhaustion.

It angered you, the power she somehow managed to wield; how she’d so easily found a way through your hard exterior, slithering right down to the place where words could still hurt you. It felt as though you’d let her win, like your insecurity was her victory, each day you spent stewing in uncertainty just another triumph to add to her list.

Ben’s absence hadn’t helped; the thought of his return like a buoy and a burden all at once. For almost two weeks, you’d felt a knot form in your stomach whenever he called; feeling guilt and dread where excitement should have been. You’d adorned a smile, feigned a light, warm voice, and pretended not to notice how unnatural it felt.

Social media only seemed to make it worse; what was once a harmless distraction had morphed into a minefield of footage from his premieres and press junkets. You would lose yourself in his easy charm and handsome smile, scroll endlessly through clips of him in his tailored suits and tinted sunglasses as he walked carpets and stopped for interviews. But as quickly as the pride and longing came, the doubt would soon follow.

You were caught in a relentless cycle of grief and self-criticism. The life Faye claimed you couldn’t give to him taunting you whenever you tried to picture yourself by his side. Yet, beneath the turmoil, there was an ember of stubbornness that refused to be extinguished; a flicker of determination, to spite her, to prove her wrong, to not let go of the man who’d given you no reason to doubt him.

The café in the Draft foyer was rarely busy; a pocket of quiet amidst the chaos of a bustling building. You stood at the counter, basking in the warm, comforting aroma of coffee, the only sounds coming from the hiss of steaming milk and the quiet chatter of baristas as they worked. You scrolled idly on your phone as you waited for your drink, thumb pausing on an image of Ben from his latest premiere. He was smiling, arm raised as he waved to the crowd of fans swarming the barriers. You instinctively found yourself zooming in on his wrist; the way your gold nameplate bracelet caught the light with a subtle glint. Then you moved to his face, the glowing tan and dark facial hair making a welcomed return.

“You’re obsessed.” Nick’s voice startled you.

You turned around to find him looking down at your phone with a teasing smile, a lanyard around his neck and a backpack on his shoulder.

“Shut up,” you said, pushing your phone into your back pocket.

“It’s sweet,” he said. “Don’t be embarrassed for having a fit boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and shifting your weight from side to side. “What are you doing here? I barely ever see you in the office anymore.”

“Just heading out to an interview, needed to come and pick up my press pass from Julia.”

You let out a half-hearted hum in response, taking your coffee as the barista placed it on the counter.

Nick followed as you made your way to a table, shifting his bag further up his shoulder. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted as you sat down.

He deliberated for a moment, like he was weighing up whether to press you or leave you be. By the time he’d sat down beside you, he’d seemingly decided to drop it, clearing his throat and excitedly shuffling his chair closer to you.

“I’m actually glad I caught you,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“Oh no, what have I done?”

Nothing,” he laughed. “I need your advice- opinion- help, all of it really.”

Your ears pricked, eyes fixed on him as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled in silence for a moment before finally turning the screen towards you with a nervous smile.

“Which one?” he asked.

You leaned in, lips parting in shock when you laid your eyes on a photo; five open boxes laid out on a glass counter, each one holding a sparkling diamond ring.

“You’re proposing!?” you shouted, voice echoing across the quiet space.

He shushed you before lowering his tone to a whisper. “Yeah. I’ve been saving for a while, but I haven’t got a clue which one she’d like best.”

You practically snatched the phone from his hand, bringing it close to your face and examining each ring carefully. “None of them.”

“What?”

“Well first of all, they’re all white gold. Lacey’s clearly a yellow gold person.”

“Oh.”

“Secondly, you should go for a coloured stone. Maybe morganite, emerald, sapphire, something different, unique.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely.”

“Right.” He sighed, taking his phone back. “Back to the drawing board then.”

You couldn’t help the smile beginning to spread across your face, brows curving upward as you looked at him with pride.

“I’m so happy for you,” you said.

“She hasn’t said yes yet.”

“She will. How are you going to do it?”

“I was thinking when the next issue of Draft comes out, I’ll show her my Divine Timing piece, let her read it, and when she’s done, she’ll look up and I’ll be on one knee.”

You didn’t reply.

“What?” he asked. “Is that not good either?”

“No, no… It’s perfect.”

He smiled appreciatively before rising from his seat and hoisting his bag back onto his shoulder. “Yellow gold, coloured stone.”

“Definitely.”

He nodded and began to walk away, repeating it to himself over and over again until he vanished from your sight.

You paced the hall as you waited for a knock at the door, biting your already raw bottom lip until you began to taste iron on your tongue. The flat was immaculate. You weren’t sure why you’d bothered cleaning it so thoroughly; it wasn’t as if Ben would care, wasn’t like he’d come in and run his fingers along the skirting boards for dust, eye the windows for smudges. But maybe it was just the distraction it provided; the mundanity of housework allowing brief moments of relief from your whirring mind.

He'd been gone for three weeks. And you’d spent the majority of that time wrought with uncertainty; playing over every possible scenario, talking aloud to practice what you would say to him when you finally came face to face again. You’d buzzed him in just seconds ago, and as you paced back and forth you could almost picture him rushing up the stairwell, growing closer with every tick of the watch on your wrist.

When the knock finally came, you felt your heart leap into your throat, an undeniable wave of excitement flooding your stomach. You hurried to the door and swung it open, unable to hold back a smile when you saw him standing there; bearded and sun kissed, an almost mirror image of the Ben you’d first met.

“Hi,” he said, his voice rough and tired, yet still warm. And before you could reply, he dropped his bag to the ground, taking a step forward and pulling you into a tight embrace. He groaned with relief as he wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. “I’ve missed you so much,” he murmured.

You couldn’t help but melt into him, taking in his scent that, even after hours of travel, was still so familiar and comforting, the rhythmic thudding of his heart as you pressed your ear to his chest.

“I missed you too,” you replied.

“I’m never going that long without you again. Next time you’re coming, no arguments.”

A soft chuckle bubbled up your throat, the sound muffled by his shirt. You lifted your head to look at him. “Next time is three days from now.”

“Yeah, and you’re coming.”

You laughed again as he leaned back slightly to look down at you, bringing his hands up to cup your face, thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks. His gaze glittered with affection, flitting between your eyes and lips with such longing that any insecurities you’d had almost seemed to vanish. You lifted your chin slightly, welcoming the inevitable kiss. And when it finally came, you gave in to it completely.

His lips were soft as they moved slowly over yours, savouring the connection like he’d thought of nothing else for the past three weeks. You slid your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck, leaning into him as he weaved his fingers through your hair.

“You need to come in so I can shut the door,” you mumbled. “Someone could walk past.”

He responded by reaching back and pushing the front door closed, keeping his focus on you the entire time as his lips trailed softly over your cheeks, your jaw, the outer corners of your eyes and the crinkle between your brows, kissing every small detail of your face.

You smiled. “Did you come straight from the airport?”

“Mhm.”

“You must be exhausted.”

He responded with another lazy hum as he began walking you backwards down the hall.

“I put a towel out for you in the bathroom,” you said. “Even bought you your own shower gel.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” you replied as he continued to kiss you. “And I’ve got dinner on in the kitchen.”

He stopped, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously.

“I’m the real Quinn I swear,” you said sarcastically.

He gave a deep chuckle, stroking your hair away from your face and placing one last kiss on your lips. “A shower does sound quite appealing right now. Do you want to join me?”

You tilted your head, giving a soft smile and running your fingertip over his bottom lip. “I’ve got stuff on the hob, need to keep an eye on it so the flat doesn’t burn down.”

There was a split second when you could have sworn you saw him pause, like he was going to question you but quickly changed his mind. Instead, he let you go, making his way to the bathroom as you wandered into the kitchen, pressing your cool palms to your flushed cheeks and exhaling a nervous breath.

Your knees buckled when you saw him in the doorway; towel wrapped low around his waist, droplets of water speckled over his bare chest and shoulders. A clean, masculine scent drifted towards you, heady and intoxicating, making your mind turn foggy as you stared at him in awe.

He made his way into the kitchen, padding leisurely towards you as you stood at the stove. You felt his hands snake around your waist, resting on your hips as his chest pressed against your back.

“You’re getting me wet,” you said with a slight giggle.

“Hm,” he replied flirtatiously, leaning down to press his lips to your neck. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

“No, wet like wet.” You laughed, gesturing to the water he’d soaked into the back of your t-shirt.

“I’m just teasing,” he replied, lips moving slowly to the back of your shoulder.

You lifted the lid off a saucepan, waiting for the steam to evaporate before stirring the bubbling liquid inside. You could feel him, hot and hard against your back, tilting your head to one side to grant him easier access to you. His large hands gripped your hips as he nipped and kissed your neck, lips and teeth grazing over your pulse as his wet hair brushed against your cheek.

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, fighting to remain composed, to ignore the tingles travelling up your spine and the desire throbbing between your legs. You tried to busy yourself with dinner, reaching to the cupboard above you and peering inside.

“What are you looking for?” he asked between kisses.

“The erm…” You’d lost your train of thought, your mind hazy, struggling to focus on anything but the feeling of him behind you. “Er… Salt. Salt and…”

He reached over you, retrieving the salt and pepper shakers and placing them on the counter.

“Thank you,” you said, almost breathlessly.

His kisses slowed, like the tension in your body was becoming impossible for him to ignore. He pulled back, just enough to peer down at you, brow furrowed with concern.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Hm? Nothing.”

His hands moved up to your waist, turning you around to face him. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t know why you were trying to deflect, why after all this time, when faced with the chance to communicate, your instincts still forced you to shut it down. “Why would something be wrong?”

“Because if nothing was wrong, you’d have dragged me into that bedroom the second I stepped through the door…”

You rolled your eyes.

“Quinn,” he pressed. “Talk to me.”

“I’m fine.”

He stared down at you for a moment, his expression completely unconvinced. You wriggled gently out of his grasp, walking over to the sink and grabbing a knife from the draining board.

“You don’t seem fine,” he said.

“Well, I am,” you replied bluntly, turning around with the knife firmly in your grasp.

He held his hands up in feigned surrender. “Alright, Jesus Christ.”

“It’s for garlic,” you replied with another eye roll, making your way back over to the counter beside him.

“Quinn,” he said with a slight laugh of disbelief. “Something’s clearly wrong. I don’t understand why you don’t feel like you can talk to me-”

“Ben.”

“I just want to know what happened-”

“Your ex-wife happened,” you snapped. “Alright?”

He looked confused, nose scrunched as his eyes glazed over, just for a moment. “What?”

You put down the knife, turning to face him with a hot sigh. “I ran into her at an event.”

“Faye?”

“Do you have more ex-wives?”

He huffed, gesturing for you to continue.

“I ran into her and she had some very… choice words for me. Some I don’t entirely disagree with.”

“Like what?”

“Like we’re… not- Like this isn’t-” you huffed and turned to walk away. “Y’know what, it doesn’t matter-”

“Yes, it does,” he said firmly, grabbing your arm before you could leave the room. “Whatever it is, it’s obviously bothered you enough to make it hard to even look at me right now. So, you need to tell me. Now.”

You yielded, turning around and leaning back against the fridge, arms folded across your chest. You hadn’t even realised you’d been avoiding his gaze until you found yourself staring at the floor. So, you forced yourself to look up at him.

“She said we’re not equal. Me and you. And that we never will be.” You swallowed. “I bring nothing to the table financially, we’re not in the same place in life or career or aspirations. I’m just a bit of fun you’re messing around with instead of-”

“Instead of what?” he replied, anger darkening his tone. “Instead of staying in a PR marriage just to pacify everyone else except myself?”

“She insinuated that you’re just ‘getting things out of your system’ with me, and once the novelty wears off, you’ll realise I’m not right for you and you’ll move on to someone who is.”

His jaw sharpened, throat bobbing as he tried to swallow down his rage. He planted a hand on the counter beside him, grounding himself as he tried to process your words. “When was this?” he asked calmly. “Where?”

“An exhibition at the fashion museum, a couple of days after you left.”

He blinked a few times. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What would it have achieved?” You shrugged. “You were on the other side of the world for work. It would have just bothered you, ruined your time out there.”

He exhaled heavily through his nose, the breath rattling like a growl as it left him. “You know this all stems from jealousy on her part, don’t you?”

You didn’t respond, making him look over at you with more intensity, his brows coming together as he took in the look on your face.

“Quinn… You know that, right?”

I don’t know. Some of the things she said, I… I haven’t been able to stop thinking that maybe she had somewhat of a point…”

“What else did she say?”

“Ben,” you sighed, closing your eyes and running your hands through your hair.

“Quinn,” he said sternly. “In this relationship, we communicate.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

He glared at you.

You threw your head back dramatically, letting out a groan before looking back over at him. “It’s just… It’s what I’ve already told you; we’re not compatible, economically or aspiration-wise or-”

“What does that even mean?”

“That you’re rich and I’m poor,” you replied curtly.

“Not that, for fuck sake, the aspiration thing.”

You could feel yourself clamming up, your mouth turning dry and cheeks flushing with discomfort. You shifted on your feet, biting another cut into your lip. “Well, she just- She made a good point that you are… Very certain of what you want. And if you continue to waste your time with me, if I continue to let you waste your time with me, I could be holding you back from getting it.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He was growing irate again, his voice deepening, turning hoarse and firm.

“Well, no, it’s not really, is it.”

“Yes. It is.”

“No, it’s not, Ben! It’s not irrational of me to be concerned that a year, two years, however long down the line, you could look back and realise you spent all that time with me when you could have been out there meeting your soulmate, your next wife, the mother of your children!”

He stared at you, open-mouthed for a moment, his face twisted in a mixture of ire and confusion. Eventually, it seemed to overwhelm him, making him drop his head with a frustrated huff, pressing the heels of his hands into closed eyes.

“Why…” he began slowly, controlling his words as they left him in a deep, gravelly voice. “Is it not at all possible that… that person could be you…?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Ben-”

“What!? Why can’t you consider the fact that maybe neither of us are wasting our time, because we’re supposed to be spending it with each other!?”

“Oh my god, it’s just so easy for you, isn’t it!” You threw your arms up dramatically. “Sometimes feelings just aren’t enough. You can’t enter into a relationship without at least considering where that relationship might end up.”

“This is never going to stop, is it?” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “No matter what I do, what I say, you are never going to believe that this could work.”

“I want to,” you replied, caught off guard by a crack in your voice. “But when Faye said that you want things I might not be able to give you, I couldn’t-”

“Quinn. The first night we slept together, you told me, plain as day, that you were undecided about having children. I’ve known that since the beginning, never forgotten it, and I still chose to pursue you. Because I love you more than I love some kids that we may or may not have.”

“It’s not just about having kids. It’s… She said I’d be dooming myself to a life as an extension of you. That I’d be a ‘kept woman’.”

His face broke with an unexpected smile, a laugh escaping him in a breath. “I can just about handle you as it is. Do you really think you’d ever let yourself be kept?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just so simple for you, isn’t it.”

“Yes.” He turned his body to lean back against the counter, mirroring your crossed arms. “So, it’s me who buys the house.” He shrugged. “As long as I get to wake up next to you in it every morning, I’d consider us even.”

The charm of his suggestion made you melt, just for a moment, before quickly stiffening again. “But that’s not ‘even’, Ben. Not really. You deserve someone who fits seamlessly into your life, and I just can’t shake the fear that they’re out there, and they’re perfect for you. I would never forgive myself if I held you back from finding her.”

“And what does this ‘perfect woman’ consist of?”

“She’s certain she wants a family. She’s perfectly content with the two of you being known as ‘Benedict Cumberbatch and wife’. She comes from wealth, has the money to treat you to nice champagne and expensive gifts. She doesn’t pick fights or think it’s funny to make you jealous. She…” You halted, feeling a sudden, unexpected lump in your throat, a fizzing in your nose and welling in your eyes. “She doesn’t push you away when you’re always so lovely and patient with her. She’s a good person who really, truly deserves you.”

He remained quiet, mulling over your words, eyes fixed on the emotion you were so desperately trying to hold back.

“Can I tell you what I think this perfect woman consists of?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“She’s open to maybe having a family one day. She may sometimes be ‘and wife’ to the media, but in reality, we both know it’s me who’s the ‘and husband’. She doesn’t care about money or whether she has it or not, and she always makes sure to tell me off when she thinks I’ve overspent. She’s… Impossible, infuriating, combative, but she knows I can take it. And that maybe I find it a bit sexy.”

You laughed softly.

“She’s a good person,” he continued, emphasising his words. “Who deserves whatever it is she desires. And if that’s me, then I consider myself lucky.”

You stared at him from across the small kitchen, glassy-eyed and entirely awestruck. It was quiet, the air between you so still that even your breath seemed out of place.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He paused, allowing the words to fully sink in before smiling softly. “I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked teasingly.

“I love you.”

His smile turned to a grin. “One more time, I didn’t quite catch it.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He made his way towards you, taking your face in his hands and tilting it back to look up at him. “I love you too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. “And I can’t believe I just had that entire conversation with you in nothing but a towel.”

You chuckled.

His expression turned serious again as he stared down into your eyes. “I have doubts too. Sometimes I feel like I’ve come into your life and completely turned it upside down; put rules on you, restrictions, expectations. You never asked for any of that. But then… I think about how we got off to such a bad start when we met, yet still, we somehow ended up here. That’s got to mean something.”

“It means you’re too nice and I don’t take no for an answer.”

He laughed, running his fingers through your hair. “It means we’d be stupid to throw this away.”

You smiled, rising onto your toes to kiss him. He held you close, inhaling deeply as his lips moved slowly against yours.

He broke away, looking down at you with an amused smirk. “You know, for someone who doesn’t take shit from anybody, you really let my jealous ex-wife get into your head.”

“It’s not Faye that’s got into my head. It’s you.” You shook your head as you gazed up at him, your voice nothing but a whisper as you spoke again. “I’ve never let anyone get this close to me before…”

“Well, I’m honoured to be the one you decided to let in.”

This vulnerability was new for you. It made you feel fragile, exposed, like a knight without armour, a porcupine without its quills. Until Ben, you’d simply assumed it wasn’t in your nature to take this role; to be tender, maybe even soppy, softening yourself completely and trusting him to hold you without crushing you in his fists. You’d never let anyone take the lead, never allowed yourself to be coddled, doted on, handled with such reverence that you felt no desire to fight it.

Perhaps you’d been capable of it all along; could have opened yourself up to anyone who’d came before him and felt a connection just as strong. Or maybe this part of you had always been reserved especially for him; a locked door that only he had the key to. You would never know for sure. But you were okay with that.

Ben’s thumb gently caressed your cheek, his lips grazing the side of your head in a sequence of slow, loving kisses. You smiled and leaned back slightly to look up at him.

“Okay, this is getting sappy now,” you muttered teasingly as you pulled him down to kiss you.

He chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling in his throat and humming softly against your lips.

“Go and get dressed,” you said. “I’ll finish dinner.”

“Okay,” he replied with a smile.

You watched as he made his way towards the door, before turning back to look at you, the smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” you asked with a breathy laugh.

“That was a very grown-up fight we just had.”

You rolled your eyes and turned towards the stove. “It wasn’t a fight. It was a heated discussion.”

He laughed, the sound disappearing with him down the hall.

A quiz show played quietly on the TV, the sun casting a golden hue across the living room as you sat cross-legged on the couch. There was a cushion in your lap, shielding your legs from the piping hot bowl, and a glass of water on the coffee table just out of reach. Ben was sitting beside you, leaning forward as he ate, handing you your drink every time you asked without complaint.

You listened as he told you about his time away; the funny posters fans held up in the crowd, how he almost missed a premiere when his driver took a wrong turn, and the coffee he spilled on himself before his flight had even taken off. When he asked you how your time alone had been, you couldn’t help but feel boring in comparison; writing, grocery shopping, a few work meetings you barely paid attention to.

“Oh,” you said, swallowing a mouthful of food before continuing. “My friend Nick’s proposing to his girlfriend.”

“Ah how lovely. Tonight?”

“No. Soon, though. I helped him pick the ring.”

Ben eyed your smile, unable to hide his own amusement. “Have they been together long?”

“A few years, I think. Why?”

He gave a casual shrug, still smiling. “No reason.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t be getting any ideas.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. It took a battle just to get you to wear that watch, can you imagine if I tried to give you a ring?”

You looked down at the watch and rolled your eyes before trying to reach for your water. He handed it to you with a chuckle, taking another bite of his food as he waited for you to take a sip and hand it back.

The TV continued to play in the background, the sound of audience applause and laughter like a gentle hum softening the silence.

“You know,” he mused. “I never thought I’d see the day when you actually wore it.”

You looked down at the watch again, shrugging with feigned nonchalance. “It seemed a shame to just leave it sitting there. I did contemplate taking it off after what happened with Faye. But I like the compliments too much.”

He laughed and went back to his dinner, the pair of you falling back into easy conversation. It was another moment where you found it easy to forget his fame, how absurd it was to have a celebrity sitting on your couch eating rice and dal from your mismatched dinnerware.

The sun was beginning to set, the living room glowing with a deep, golden hue like the promise of a warm evening. You were laying alone on the couch, speaking aloud your answers to another quiz show and swearing to yourself whenever you got them wrong. You could hear Ben singing in the other room, the sound of clinking ceramic and running water punctuating the dulcet tone of his voice.

You stretched lazily and rose to your feet, wandering out of the living room and through the doorway of the kitchen. He was standing at the sink with his back to you, broad shoulders moving slightly as he scrubbed at the pots and pans beneath the soapy water. You allowed yourself a moment to just watch him; comfortable clothes and bare feet, singing a song that was too high for his voice and not caring if you could hear him.

You wandered over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek against his back. He stilled for a moment at your unexpected touch, before relaxing quickly and continuing to wash up.

“Well, this is new,” he said. “Usually I’m the one ambushing you with affection.”

You sighed contentedly, tightening your hold on him. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Of course not.” He rinsed off a pot and placed it on the draining board, glancing over his shoulder as he reached for a tea towel to dry his hands. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just soaking up the fact that you’re actually here and not on FaceTime halfway across the world.”

He turned around with a smile and pulled you closer to him. “I missed you too, darling.”

Your stomach did an embarrassing little flip, which you tried to disguise by biting your already cracked, tender bottom lip.

He brought his thumb up to it, gently releasing it from your teeth. “Stop biting,” he said softly.

“Sorry, it’s a nervous thing.”

“I make you nervous?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, breathing out a laugh as you brought your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss you. He reciprocated eagerly with a satisfied groan, letting his hands roam your body until his grip finally found your backside.

You leaned into him, pressing yourself flush against his body as you swept your tongue into his mouth. The energy between you began to pulse, turning hot and electric; making your skin tingle, the hairs on your arms stand on end. You reached back and grabbed one of his hands, taking a step back and leading him towards the door.

The air was cooler in the bedroom, the thick curtains shielding the space from the glowing sun. You pulled him towards the bed, turning him around and pushing him onto it with unabashed haste. He propped himself up on his elbows as you straddled him, his lips finding yours again in a quicker, hungrier kiss.

You gripped the hem of his t-shirt and dragged it over his head, tossing it aside as your lips moved to his neck, his collarbones and the bare, slightly paler skin of his chest. He smelled like the soap you’d bought him, the clean, masculine scent enveloping you as he held you in his arms. It smelled different on him than it had in the bottle; earthier, manlier, evoking something carnal inside you that made you want to dive in without coming up for air.

His hands dipped beneath your top, fingers grazing the ticklish spots over your ribs, nails raking gently down your sides. You shivered as your skin puckered with goosebumps, the sensation rolling down your body and settling between your legs with a tingling, insatiable need. It made you squirm, searching for friction as you continued to lay kisses across his chest.

He lifted the top over your head before brushing away a lock of hair that had fallen into your face, pausing for just a moment to look at you.

“You’re about to say something cheesy, aren’t you,” you said.

He smiled. “I was just going to say I love you.”

You leaned forward, kissing him slowly, deeply, rocking your hips over the hard bulge in his jogging bottoms. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his lips.

He let himself fall back completely, surrendering himself to you as you returned your mouth to his chest, trailing down his torso towards his waistband. You could feel him tense beneath your lips, muscles hardening, rolling beneath soft skin with even the slightest movement. But then he stopped.

“Hold on,” he said.

You lifted your head to see him reaching for something beneath your pillows, watching as he pulled out a small vibrator and turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you expect me to do when you’re gone?” you asked.

“Pine after me longingly, while awaiting my return in perfect chastity,” he replied sarcastically.

You scoffed and climbed off him. “Take off your pants.”

He did as you instructed, his eyes never leaving you as you stripped down to your underwear. You wished you’d thought ahead when you got dressed this morning and worn nicer lingerie, or at the very least, made sure your bra matched your knickers. But Ben didn’t seem to care, his gaze ravenous as it raked over you, following your every move until you were back on top of him.

You ran your finger over the tan line at the base of his throat, preparing to tease him for it. But before any words could leave you, he placed a hand on the back of your head and pulled you down to kiss him, his hot breath and skilled tongue turning your mind hazy, the desire to say something funny or sarcastic evaporating from you like steam. He was growing impatient, you could feel it in the way he rolled his hips beneath you, his erection pressing against your aching centre, begging to be released.

You reached back and unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms, the cups falling away from your chest. He wasted no time in taking your breasts in his large palms, kneading them gently, fingers pinching your hard, tight nipples until the sensation made you gasp. He shifted slightly, sitting up just enough to lean back against the headboard, bringing his mouth to each nipple as his hand caressed the other. It was electric, each flick of his tongue or squeeze of his fingers sending a jolt of lightning through your stomach.

You ran your fingers through his hair, rocking against his hard length as you tried to quell the throbbing in your clit, the deep, insatiable need in your core.

“Say you’ll come with me on the next press tour,” he whispered, hands travelling from your breasts over your stomach.

“It’s in three days, how can I just up and leave? I don’t even know where you’re going-”

“Los Angeles, then New York, then Los Angeles again,” he said, his voice seductively low, fingers making it to the waistline of your underwear. “But nothing’s stopping us from taking a detour or two; we could fly to Mexico for a few days, or maybe Argentina, Colombia, Brazil-”

“Okay I get the picture,” you said breathlessly as he slipped his hand into your underwear, fingertips finally making contact with your centre.

“Is that a yes?”

You let out a moan as he began to massage your clit, making you shudder and grip the headboard above him to steady yourself.

You’d gotten on top of him with the intention of being in charge, of taking the lead. But somehow here you were, straddling him yet still completely at his mercy. The extent of your arousal was undeniable as he slid his fingers along your hot, wet entrance, the discovery making him groan with a mixture of pride and desire. He bucked against you, and you responded by reaching down to release him from his underwear, as though the idea of foreplay hadn’t even crossed your mind, or you were simply too horny to care.

His cock sprung free against your stomach and you gripped it firmly in your hand. “If I agree to come, will you make it worth my while?”

His breath hitched, eyes darkening as he gazed up at you. “Anything you want,” he whispered. “It’s yours.”

You smiled, stroking him lazily as you spoke. “I want you.”

“Then you’ve got me.” He ran his hand slowly up your body, over your stomach and between your breasts, his palm finally settling at the base of your throat. “Every free moment.” He curled his fingers around your neck. “Every spare second.”

You paused for a moment, revelling in the depth of his voice, the pressure of his fingertips against your pulse and the way his hips rolled to meet the relaxed rhythm of your hand. When you leaned forward to kiss him, he responded with a soft growl against your lips, tightening his grip on your throat as you slid your underwear aside and positioned him at your entrance.

You slid him into you with a sigh, releasing every ounce of fear and uncertainty you’d been holding onto in his absence, the connection so beautiful it was hard to believe you’d ever doubted it at all.

“Fuck,” you whispered as your hand immediately found the headboard above him, holding onto it as you began to move, sinking down to the root of his length and grinding against him.

The friction was intense, the stretch stealing the air from your lungs as he filled you. He was motionless beneath you; letting you set the pace, the angle, the depth. But his hand remained on your neck, like an anchor, a reminder that he had you exactly where he wanted you.

You kept a grip of the headboard, your other hand planted on his chest as you rocked your hips, revelling in each wave of pleasure as it rippled through your core, the tingly, electric buzz coursing beneath your skin. He kept his eyes on you, watching your face closely, your fluttering lids and parted lips, undeniable evidence of your satisfaction.

“Tell me you love me again,” he groaned.

You lowered your gaze to meet his with a slight smile, and for a moment you thought about teasing him, denying his request and making him beg for it. But the feeling of him inside you was too pervading, disabling your sarcasm and stealing your wit, leaving you soft and agreeable, like putty in his hands.

“I love you,” you replied breathlessly.

Your words seemed to fuel him, making him bring his other hand up to double his grip of your throat. You whimpered as he began to move, every firm jolt sending a shudder through your stomach and a shiver up your spine. You began to bounce slightly, your moans growing louder as you met each hard thrust, ignoring the burning in your thighs and the creak of the bedframe beneath him.

Your voice echoed through the room, a cacophony of moans and swear words, gasps and increasingly enthusiastic yeses. You would no doubt be apologising to your downstairs neighbours tomorrow. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if the building across the street demanded one too.

There was a familiar swelling of heat in your core, your stomach coiling, driving you to move faster in search of release. But Ben got there first, his hips stuttering as he let out a deep, guttural groan, burying himself inside you as he came.

You slowed your movements to a lazy grind, leaning back slightly to catch your breath when a dull buzzing caught your attention. You looked down to see him holding your vibrator, clicking the button a few times before placing it gently on your clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation; the unexpected act that caught you completely off guard.

“Oh, god.” You could barely speak, stuttering out the words through a serrated breath.

He watched you closely, adjusting his placement until your mouth fell open, stomach muscles tensing as you grabbed his thighs for support. The device sucked and pulsed against your clit, making you squirm on his cock as your limbs began to shake. The world around you seemed to disappear, like nothing else existed beyond the pleasure dancing along your nerves, like the entire universe had somehow been condensed into the tiny bundle between your legs.

You shuddered; eyes screwed shut as you let out a deep, heavy groan. For a moment you couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, every last speck of energy spent on the orgasm ripping through you. And as quickly as the pleasure peaked, it instantly turned to pain, your clit so sensitive that all you could think to do was push Ben’s hand away.

He switched off the vibrator and tossed it aside, gazing up at you with a satisfied smirk as you shook uncontrollably on top of him. Your teeth were chattering, limbs gooey and barely functioning.

“You’re a fucker,” you said, breathing out a stunned laugh.

He chuckled softly, reaching up to brush a lock of hair out of your face.

You tried to calm yourself, inhaling slowly through your nose and blowing it out in shaky, uneven breaths.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I can’t move.”

He laughed again before gently rolling you off him and turning on his side to face you.

You nestled yourself into him, eyelids heavy as you traced swirls over his bare chest with your fingertips.

“I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to compete with that thing,” he said, gesturing in the direction he’d thrown the vibrator.

You giggled. “Well, that thing can’t kiss me, or manhandle me, or tell me it loves me. So, I think you’re fine.”

He closed his eyes with a sleepy smile. “In that case, feel free to stick it in your suitcase and bring it with us.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “If you’re expecting me to follow you around America for two weeks, then I expect youto make sure I don’t need a vibrator…”

He opened one eye. “Is that an ultimatum?”

“It’s more of a condition.”

“A condition?”

“Mhm. If I’m going to be sneaking around, cooped up in hotel rooms all on my own while you’re working, then there needs to be… perks.” You let your fingers run further down his chest and over his stomach, making him tense beneath you.

He chuckled and grabbed your wrist before your hand could dip any lower, bringing your knuckles to his lips and kissing them gently. “Darling, if you come with me, I’ll be certain to make sure you forget that thing even exists.”

You smiled, watching as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “How long before the jet lag sets in?”

“No idea. I’m just praying I can get through tomorrow before it does.”

“Why? What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m taking my parents to the Chelsea Flower Show.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.”

He shifted even closer to you, draping an arm over the top of your head and twirling your hair between his fingers. “I was actually meaning to speak to you about it… I’d really like it if you came too.”

You stilled for a moment, before forcing yourself to relax. “How could I possibly look them in the eye after what I just did with their son?”

He gave a soft, throaty laugh. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

The air between you fell silent, and you knew he could sense your apprehension, the same way you could tell he wasn’t going to drop it.

“It’s just a bit soon, don’t you think?” you finally said. “Shouldn’t we wait a while before meeting-”

“I met your parents. Ages ago.”

“Yeah, by accident.”

“Quinn.” He exhaled a laugh, brushing his nose against the side of your head before placing a kiss there. “I’d really like you to come. No pressure, no expectations, I just want them to meet the woman I’ve been telling them about.”

“You’ve been telling them about me?”

He nodded. “I left out a lot.”

*Tag List: @blondekel77 @evelynrosestuff @bakerstreethound @annesthaeticc @aephereal @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sherlux @veryladyqueen @graciebear47 @allurenia @jamerlynn @cottagecore-cat @aysamuka @thegardenerofeden @cumbercatchmebaby @inspirationalandrandom @turkisherlockian @swds @weepingdreamerpanda @elzabethann @childofgod215 @briecantopme @lovecleastrange @jaspearl31 @paola-carter @greatburger @azu21 @xourownsidee @hunterofshadows04 @asgardianprincess1050 @teddycrimson @sherlocksgirl91 @oliveoilthoughts @hai-kbai @shjl15 @bloodyxsaint @charleighsblog @stephenstrangeaddictions @omgstarks @sleutherclaw @bisciwri @theevilsupreme @gwoods123 @classickook @coffee-d0t @strangeobsessed @januarycolor @strangeions @lonadane @downtownshabby

#benedict cumberbatch #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #benedict cumberbatch x oc #benedict cumberbatch x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch fanfic #Benedict Cumberbatch fanfiction #smut #smut writing #lemon #fanfic series #ao3 fanfic #the feature

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stinkysam · 1 day ago

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Choi Subong “Thanos” - Just boyfriend.

Warning : Dysphoria

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “Thanos x ftm reader?” -anon

Reader : male (he/you)

A/N : bold is in English. // reader is taking testosterone and has done top surgery but is not out to his parents. // kinda short ;-;

Thanos knew there was something going on with you. Your hair, clothes, your voice, actions. Sometimes you made him think you were more of a boy than a girl.

But you weren’t close enough for him to worry about it and for you to explain everything, until your friendship deepened, spending more time together.

“T, I’m gonna be serious for a minute or two, and your reaction will really matter for the future of our friendship.” You announced one day.

“Okay ?” He replied with a frown, more confused than anything.

“Because I’m doing some spring cleaning in my friendships and I have something to say.”

He looked with wide eyes, waiting for you to continue. Stop creating so much tension.

“I’m trans.”

“Huh ?” He chuckled, confused. You bit down a nervous smile.

“I’d like you to gender me as a man.” You added. “Stop viewing me as a chick and start using he/him when referring to me.”

“Huh ?”

“Huh ?” You imitated him. “Did I stun the great Thanos ?”

“Fuck you mean you’re not a chick ?! Since when ?”

Cue to a long discussion about how you’ve been feeling for a long time and your visits with a lot of professionals.

It took him a bit of time to use your right set of pronouns. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he constantly had to watch his mouth to not accidentally out you to random people, and he loves to yap. Which happened a couple of times. Luckily they just looked at him weirdly before moving on, thinking he just mixed his words up.

So you had an idea. You told him to use your chosen pronouns no matter the situation you were in, and if someone asked something, you’d reply it’s just a private joke between you two. It worked well, but not that much with your parents.

“He ?”

“Yeah… ?” Thanos replied looking at your mom with a confused expression. Did he say something wrong ?

“Yes, sorry, it’s an inside joke. ” You quickly added with a smile, grabbing Thanos by the back of his neck like you would grab a cat doing something it shouldn’t.

“An inside joke ?” Your mom asked, still not understanding.

“Yeah, she’s just so used to calling me a ‘he’ that she does it naturally now.” You flashed her a smile, hoping she’d bite and leave you alone. “Right Subong ?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Maybe if you looked less like a man that wouldn’t happen. Did you stop putting the padded push up bras I bought you ? It looks like your boobs completely disappeared.” She approached to put her hands on your chest but you pulled away, taking a step back.

“I’m old enough to buy my own.”

“Put them back on and that man will stop calling you a ‘he’. He’ll easily remember you’re a girl.” She said, walking away.

You blinked slowly, grimacing, lightly squeezing Thanos’ neck. You felt like you were back in school.

“I’m sorry.” Thanos whispered.

“Shut up.”

He’s met a couple trans people here and there, mainly fans who corrected him when he addressed them wrong. He just looked at them confused and moved on. Okay, whatever, next.

“Weird, I met a dude who told me he wasn’t one.” He says in a voice message a few minutes after leaving said fan.

“It means that person is probably trans.” You sent back with a laugh.

“What, like you ?”

“Yeah but the other way around.”

“Can’t he… Mh… She ? Should I say she ? Can’t she donate her dick to you ?”

“Yes, she. And no it doesn’t work that way. And maybe she already got rid of it.”

“What do they do with it ? Once the dick is detached ?”

“How do you think they make dildos ?” You replied laughing before continuing. “No, the dick isn’t detached, it’s just heavily modified so it becomes a vagina. The rest that’s useless is discarded. Into the trash can~”

“Wait- so you can’t give her your boobs either ?”

“Ah, this hurts, T. I got them removed a year ago.” You whined. “Didn’t my mom speak about them in front of you one day, talking about how they disappeared ?”

“It wasn’t because you didn’t put on the bras she gave you ?”

“No ! I had boobs you could see even without bras, come on !”

“I never saw them.”

“You perv.” You laughed. “Stop looking for people’s boobs.”

“No~”

“Anyway. I used to alway put on a binder so I guess you couldn’t see the difference once I got them removed.”

“How was I supposed to know, then !? You tell me nothing !”

“Ah, fucking bastard, now it’s my fault ?! We weren’t big friends back then, why would I tell you ? Huh ?!”

“Because we’re best friends now ! We tell each other when we take a shit, no ? So tell me when you do something.”

You send him a voice message of you just sighing very loudly.

“Okay. I’ll tell you when I get a dick, then.” You added in another message.

“Send me pictures, okay ?”

“Fuck off.” You replied, laughing.

He’s really great and supportive but he makes mistakes by thinking too much sometimes.

“What’s up my girlboyfriend ?” Thanos asked, waving his hands in the air, approaching you.

You slowly looked away from your laptop, turning to him, looking at him in confusion.

“What ?” You asked calmly.

“My girlboyfriend.” He repeated confidently.

You slowly shook your head.

“No.” At his lack of response you continued. “Why the fuck- why would you call me girlboyfriend ?” You leaned closer, trying to understand his thought process.

“Because you were a girl… and now you’re a boy.” He stated, as if it was the most logical thing.

“What ? Why-” You rubbed your face. “Why would you mix past and present ? And I wasn’t a girl, I was still a boy, I just didn’t know it ? Were you really straight before realizing you were actually bisexual ?”

He looked at you then to the sides, thinking while pouting.

“Boyfriend ?” He finally asked, making you chuckle lightly.

“Yeah !”

“Okay.” He nodded, throwing his hands in the air again.

There are times where your mood is at an all time low. Dysphoria kicking your ass as you can’t find what to wear to ease it a bit. It wasn’t your chest the problem, but your overall appearance. Though you had a packer on, you knew it was fake and your brain refused to not think about it.

You’d sometimes refuse to hang out or go on dates because of it. And each time you mentioned why, Thanos quickly rushed to your place, ringing your doorbell constantly till you finally opened him, ready to hype you up.

He sometimes brings a bag of his own clothes so you could wear them. You already buy yours in men’s sections either on the internet or physically but wearing his baggy clothes does help a bit.

He’s not the type to gently hype you, coaxing you into feeling yourself manly enough. He’ll literally yell at you.

“What are you on about ?! Are you some type of dumbass ?!” He’s already yelling as soon as you open the door.

You glared weakly at him, already wanting to kick him out.

“Quickly feel normal again ! You’re a man, so man up !” He strongly patted your arm, nearly making you stumble to the side.

“Hey, you wanna fight ?! Why are you yelling at me like that ?! You come into my house and dare insult me ?! The fucking nerves !”

“I’m not gonna pick you up piece by piece ! Are you crazy ?! You’re a man, what part of you screams the opposite ?!”

He had touched a sore spot.

“So many parts of my body are screaming it ! Are you fucking blind ?! My pussy, my scars, my muscles- my… ” You sighed, tired, letting yourself fall onto the couch with a groan. “Everything.” You added, your arm covering your face. You've had enough.

You loved being able to take testosterone, going to the gym to define your muscles, watching YouTube videos to change your voice, but it wasn’t going fast enough and you wished you didn’t have to do that and more. It was so slow and you’d have to take testosterone all your life, a constant reminder you weren’t a biological man.

He stared at you, disconcerted. Generally you’d yell back at him, arguing back and forth till everything that frustrated you was out the window. But sometimes it didn’t work, your thoughts and anxiety getting the best of you.

Sighing, Thanos approached you, unsure if you wanted space or not. He decided to try anyway, squeezing himself between you and the backrest of the couch, wrapping his arms around you.

“Come on. You’re still a man.”

You hummed, trying to get a hold of yourself. Though you had already cried before him, you didn’t like doing so, feeling too weak.

“You should-”

“I don’t want problem solving.” You quickly said, cutting him off. You already knew what he was gonna say anyway.

He rubbed your back with one hand, the other one pulling your arms away from your face, letting him plant a kiss on your forehead.

You moved closer, as if it was possible, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, his fingers now tapping rhythmically on your back.

“Keep being patient. Your bottom surgery is already planned, anyway.”

“I know.” You replied quietly, sighing. “But it’s so far away.”

“When you go back to Thailand I’ll follow you, okay ? Don’t want you to feel too much at home and never come back to me.”

You smiled weakly, closing your eyes.

“Ah… How will I get rid of you then ?”

“Can’t and won’t.”

#male reader #m!reader #thanos squid game #squid game x m!reader #squid game x male reader #squid game 2 #squid game #choi su bong x m!reader #choi subong x male reader #choi su bong x male reader #choi subong #choi subong x m!reader #choi su bong

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spiral-102 · 1 day ago

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ANOTHER random au idea that my brain comes up with (of course another pop star au- ITS DIFFERENT I SWEAR)

Ok picture this- Sonic a big time pop star. He changes up his music and style every new album. He goes from rap, to country, to rock, to cunty girly music, etc. Brother just makes music calling him a pop star doesn't really describe what he actually is tbh. Hes just a guy who likes to make music.

His newest album is his way of coming out to his fans. "Yeah- I like boys, so what?" He mostly does it to go against a lot of stupid articles that call him gay as an insult.

The album is called "I like boys" cause duh. He wants to have a gay ass album cover, so he asks his assistants (tails and knuckles) to get him a couple of male models (or even random hot dudes on the street) to basically come show themselves off so he can choose the hottest dude for his album cover.

Shadow ends up there by loosing a bet lol. The bet (Icantthinkofanythinglol) doesn't matter, but he lost to rouge and she thought it would be funny if he auditioned to be sonics hot dude. (She likes sonics music and follows him on social media plus they have worked together) (Shes in the modeling industry and has modeled with him and has even danced in one of his music videos)

So of course sonic has a studio rented out and its basically like an audition. Like 10 dudes come out at once (they ask 10 at once because a lot of dudes came to audition and makes it faster to get through), line up, and one by one each dude introduces himself and of course answers sonics questions. He doesn't really find most of them appealing mostly because they all seemed too nervous (he understands why but he wants someone with confidence).

Then out comes shadow with his group. Sonic takes almost immediate interest in shadow because well- BRO IS HOT LOL.

The confident stride, the 'I don't give a fuck' attitude when he answers sonics questions, the annoyed look on his face, the red eyeliner and highlights, his striking black fur, his piercing red eyes, HIS CHEST FUR- I could go on.

Of course shadow gets picked.

Shadow was VERY surprised he got picked. He gave sonic a lot of attitude and wasn't interested in sonics questions. He almost refused, but the pay is really good and the job is easy(haha very wrong). So he decides to it.

I drew the album cover but, you're gonna have to wait for that lol ❤❤

(The drawing is what inspired me lol)

Anyway, have a good day and may lord shadow bless you ❤❤

#sonadow au #shadonic #sonadow #sonic au #sonic headcanons #sonic the hedgehog #shadow au #shadow the hedgehog #shadow headcanons #sth au #sth

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justanescapism · 1 day ago

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hi! Can I request something with Dexter having an autistic gf? if you are unsure of your depiction don’t worry! remember that autism is an spectrum

feel free to not write it if you are not comfortable! thank youuu

Dexter Morgan having an autistic partner would include…

Dexter had always considered himself…odd. He tries everything he does to cover it up - but with you, he doesn’t have to pretend to be mr nice guy. He can unmask - to a certain extent - in front of you.

You both have special interests. Dexter appreciates being able to talk about blood splatter and not get called a psycho, weirdo or geek. He can be passionate and not judged. It’s something he’s never experienced before - and he loves it, in his own way.

If you’re not typically into PDA, Dexter is fine with that, if not glad. He was never a big fan of PDA. Preferring not to draw attention to himself.

That been said, if anyone calls you weird or say anything remotely bad towards, Dexter is quite defensive. You don’t need to change for him, so why should you change for others.

He doesn’t really understand why you a person who does nothing wrong would need a mask. He does it to not get caught, but fitting in? If he doesn’t have to, he won’t. He tried to understand though, and lets you unwind and unmask in front of him.

He works extremely logically to the point it’s kind of absurd. If you can’t touch a certain texture, he never judges. You can’t touch it, that’s that, he requires no explanation, which you appreciate. If you don’t want to talk, he doesn’t require answers. If you want to tell him, he’s all ears but will never push it.

That goes for any boundaries at all! You have to do something a specific time to make sure you keep your schedule. He makes sure he’s always busy/free in that time.

Likewise, when he needs a night to hunt or go on his boat as he tells you, you don’t ask why, just let him go. We all have pur routines or things we need to do, to keep ourselves sane.

A/n: I am actually autistic and was thinking about doing this anyways. Again, I tried to keep this vague and everyone is different. As you said it’s a spectrum! :)))

Also if you want more Dexter I’m happy to oblige, I can hardly find anything for this show! :(

#Dexter #Dexter Morgan x reader #Dexter Morgan #dexter morgan x you #dexter x reader

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arvensimp · 2 days ago

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I LOVE the Leon sneaking around with reader/oc thing you wrote - the Leon theme that's goin on in general is great tbh - but I'm personally more of a Raihan gal, y'know? 🥰 don't know if he's for anyone here but I personally like the completely separate concept of an "older brother's best friend" sorta scenario where the reader/oc is another sibling to Leon (being 18+ of course) and is sneaking around with Raihan.. 😊

Okay so I'm low-key loving this. Let me see how this sounds?

Honey, you've got a big storm comin'

Raihan x fem!reader who is Leon's and Hop's sister. warning for some slightly adult behaviors, but no full on sex

Your whole childhood basically revolved around Pokemon. Now, don't misunderstand, you like pokemon well enough! There are tons of cute little kinds, and they're fun! You've got one that you keep around because it's sweet and easy enough to care for.

But between a celebrity champion older brother and a massive pokemon-fan-turned-pokemon-grad-student younger brother, you kind of dealt with enough of the whole "Pokemon Trainer" life. You watched Leon march off (initially in the wrong direction) to become a trainer, then heard all about the hardships of basically camping in the wilderness while he trained for some matches, and Hop ate it up ravenously. But you? You don't really care for The Great Outdoors and all of its associated dangers. Like, people talk about the wild area and how cool it is to be out and about there, but??? People have died there. Yeah, it's dirty, and the weather can change at the drop of a coin, but also??? For real, there are dangerous pokemon out there who can very easily kill someone.

So yeah, like the middle child you very much are, you deviated from your brothers and their obsession with Pokemon training. You're happy living in a proper city in a proper flat with a proper job, not exposing yourself to the elements.

Still, you do care about your boys, so you help them out in your own small way. See, you went to school to become a meteorologist, and you work as the weather reporter on a small, local channel in Hammerlocke. You're able to live a comfortable life in a nice city, not particularly well known as a local celebrity or anything, and you can let your brothers know if there are any bizarre weather phenomena on the horizon while they're out being stupid in the wild area.

It's also kind of nice that you're not super recognizable. Folks don't recognize you in public as a sibling to the champion. You basically go unnoticed, like the middle child that you are. It's not like Lee hides you away or something, but you don't bother going to the majority of his big public events, unlike Hop, who will happily follow your eldest sibling to the ends of the earth, so you've never been "debuted" to the world the way that Hop was when he did that whole Gym Challenge thing.

Still, Lee always invites you anyway. It just so happens that this latest event of his is in Hammerlocke, so you figure you might as well attend. Hop had to study for exams, and you're not busy with anything else. Truth be told, it might do you some good to socialize a bit more. You'd been spending an awful lot of time cooped up in your flat lately.

This brings you to your current situation, chilling at the buffet of some Rose Sponsored Event in Hammerlocke Stadium's lavish upper floors. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall windows overlook the greenery of the pitch below, so you figure this must be some kind of box space for major movers and shakers within the pokemon league for when they do their matches below. You'd never bothered visiting the stadium before today, despite living in Hammerlocke for a few years, so it's kind of neat to see. You can cross it off your bucket list or whatever.

Lee is off chatting it up with whatever bigwigs are trying to get him to wear their logo, so you haven't had the chance to grab his ear and say hello just yet. Instead you're eyeing some curry puffs and mini quiches, trying to decide how much would be polite to load up on your plate, when you hear someone's voice.

"Aaaaand that's our GBC 12 Hammerlocke News today. Up next, the weather." The phrase makes your ears perk. It's the one the news anchor speaks every day just before your segment on air. Internally, you cringe. Someone must've recognized you. You plaster on your Broadcast Smile and look to the source.

"Haha," The laugh is as stiff and uncomfortable as you feel. "Sounds like I've been spotted..."

The man who drew your attention is surprisingly tall, giving you a grin with teeth so sharp that on anyone else they'd seem almost predatory, but with his relaxed posture and overall chill demeanor, you're not getting any vibes of ill intent. Maybe (probably) cockiness? But nothing bad. The discomfort you'd felt at being recognized melts away like ice in a heat wave, replaced with a warm thrum of nervous excitement. He's very handsome, and you certainly don't mind attention from someone like him. In his hand is a rotom phone. He gestures with it as he speaks.

"Well, yeah. Gotta keep up with current events; especially gotta keep up with the weather. Can't control what you don't know, am I right?"

No, that didn't entirely make sense to you, but you smile politely and nod anyway. He's definitely easy on the eyes, and getting easier the longer you look.

"So they're inviting the press to these events now, I'm guessing?" The man goes on. "Kinda surprised they'd ask the weather girl to come schmooze it up and get photos and whatnot." He gives a bark of a laugh, and his stark white teeth gleam. "Then again, I suppose it does make for a thematically pretty picture–the weather girl with the weather specialist."

Weather specialist? You think to yourself. Is that some kinda pokemon thing? Whatever.

"Actually, I'm not--"

"Here, get in, and we'll snap some shots, and I can text'em--"

The pair of you speak at once, so you stop and try again.

"Oh, so you want my--"

"Wait, you're not--"

You both laugh this time. He gestures for you to go ahead and speak first, uninterrupted. You can't help but smile, teasingly calling him out.

"I was gonna say. So you just want to get my number, so you can send over those pictures? No other reason?"

"Ahh, ya caught me." Another laugh. Gosh, his eyes are a captivating blue... "Maybe I want your number..." He doesn't sound ashamed at all. "Not every day you get to meet the cute weather girl you see on TV, right?"

"Well it's not every day a cute weather girl meets someone as impressive as you." You eye him up and down very obviously. You're not typically this brazen a flirt, but it's kinda nice to chat someone up like this once in a while.

The man picks up on your traveling gaze, and his smile widens. "Listen, they're not gonna be making any crazy toasts or announcements or anything for a minute... Wanna maybe go somewhere private til then?"

It's a very tempting offer. Your eyes scan the room til they find Lee. He's still engrossed in conversation with some older guy with a pudgy belly and facial hair even patchier than Lee's own sad attempts at a beard (you only tease him about that a little bit). It definitely seems like they'll be there a while, so why not?

"Do you know a place?"

"Heh. Cute. C'mon, I'll lead the way." You feel the warmth of his hand trail down to the small of your back as he guides you from the room. He takes you through a few winding corridors before stopping at a massive mahogany door. It's unlocked, so the pair of you slip inside. The only light you can see is from some kind of underlit dragon themed bauble on what looks like a desk. Maybe this is an office? You can't make out many details, but you also don't have much of a chance before the man pins you to the door, resting his forearm over your head.

He towers over you, even in your heels, in the most attractive way, and you're left with no choice but to tilt your head up to meet his gaze in the dim purple lighting of the room.

From there it's easy enough for him to press his lips to yours. Seems like neither of you felt the need to chit chat further. He's warm, and the clean scent of his cologne fills your senses. Kissing him comes naturally, intoxicatingly. You hum against his lips, and he pulls away just enough to start trailing kisses down your jaw. His free hand takes a hold of your jaw, tilting it to expose your neck and collarbone to him, which he happily bites with those sharp teeth of his. Nothing too hard so as to hurt, just enough to entice and make you squirm.

You thread your own hands around the back of his neck, pressing him just a bit closer to you. "Very nice..." You hum. "But come back here." You pull his face back to your mouth, so you can kiss him again. It'd be an issue if he left any hickies, purposeful or otherwise.

"Yes, ma'am," He laughs softly against your mouth. The hand he'd used to tilt your jaw shifts, just so, to cup it instead, but you gently take it, threading your fingers over his. You hold him there for a moment, savoring your kisses. It's easy between you, finding a rhythm to enjoy, so it doesn't take much more from him for you to squeeze his fingers just a bit and guide his hand down to your chest. He fondles you eagerly, honest to goodness groaning at that first squeeze. Or maybe he's groaning at the sound you made in reaction. You can feel him smile against your lips, biting them softly.

"Ohh, atta girl, give me more of that, yeah?" He whispers between kisses. His hand works its way under your top and into your bra.

You moan as he pinches your nipple between two warm, calloused fingers. You want to ask for more, maybe wriggle your way out of your top, see if he might match you in undressing, but the man's rotom phone loudly dings several times in quick succession. The groan from its owner is of an entirely different sort as he silences the device and checks his notifications. "Agh, damn. I'm sorry, but we'll have to cut this short. Looks like someone's wondering where I am up there, and I can't leave him waiting."

Very frustrating, but you get it. It's probably for the best, too. Lee's bound to find you missing eventually.

"Gotcha..." You sound more breathless than you thought you would.

The man gives your breast a teasing squeeze and a peck on the mouth before he fully pulls away from you and opens the door to the corridor behind you.

"Don't worry. We can pick back up where we stopped later, if you're up for it." He winks.

"Well, it'd be a shame to keep a girl like me waiting for very long, right?" You reply, slipping your hand into his as you make your way back to the event space together. Along the way, you double check that you haven't mussed your hair or makeup noticeably.

Your grip loosens and you pull away from one another by the time he opens the door for you. He gives a teasing bow, gesturing for you to enter before him, so you oblige. Inside, the same pudgy man who had been chatting Lee's ear off seems to be coming to the end of some kind of toast. The pair of you quickly snatch some champagne flutes to join in the "Cheers!" when he finishes.

The hum of the crowd then picks back up as conversations start anew, and your new friend departs quickly to wherever he was needed, so you head back to that buffet line, suddenly remembering those curry puffs that you didn't get to try. Lee can find you whenever, you figure.

True to form, a few minutes pass, and you hear your name being called the same way you've heard since you were a kid. Lee is politely pushing his way through groups of people to you. You offer him a mini quiche (you've eaten an embarrassing number of them already), which he takes without a second thought.

"Mm, thanks. You must've been bored to tears here." Lee says as he eats. "Sorry I haven't been able to show you 'round yet. Here, we can make the rounds together. I'll introduce you to my colleagues."

As it turns out, your big brother knows every person in the room by name. He couldn't find his way out of a paperbag, but he can learn faces and names apparently. They all blend into a massive blur for you, all the different gym leaders, their top gym trainers, and some guy wearing a pokeball costume, of all things.

"Aaah, there he is!" Lee eventually says, guiding you away from the beautiful ice gym leader and her adult son, another top trainer of the region. You've already forgotten their names. Emily? Jordy?

Lee puts on an air as he continues. "Dearest little sister, please allow me the pleasure of introducing you to the gym leader of Hammerlocke. I'm sure you've seen him on the telly or some such."

Ah, fuck.

"My very best mate."

Damn it.

"My closest rival."

Son of a bitch.

"And the second best trainer in Galar."

Blast it all to hell and back.

"Raihan."

Your mystery guy with the big hands, stunning eyes, and beautiful teeth stands in front of you, smiling between Lee and you.

"Raihan, meet my little sister."

Raihan, for his part, barely falters for a second as he learns your identity.

"Champ." He says between too-tight-teeth. "I don't think you ever mentioned a sister. I'm hurt."

"You sure, mate?" It's an honest question. Bless Lee's dumbest of asses.

Raihan nods, and Lee laughs it off. "Ah, you know... She's got herself all hidden away in her flat. Not much into the whole league thing, so I must've...uh..." He looks down at you. "Forgotten? But only in the kindest way!" He attempts to placate you.

"I've been hidden in a flat in this town." You remind him, face flushed from embarrassment. Of course the hottest guy here (who has also already felt you up and had his tongue down your throat) is your big brother's best friend. "You'd think I'd have come up at some point."

"Well, you never wanna come to my matches anyway. Besides, you're the one who lives here. Why has it taken you so long to come down to the stadium? You could've met Raihan ages ago."

You curl in on yourself a bit. Yeah, it's probably not amazing form that you didn't even recognize the gym leader and second best trainer in the region, much less the man who's supposed to be your brother's best mate. That isn't a great look.

"Listen, I'm sure your sweet little sister here was just too busy with her job. She's a local celebrity, you know." Raihan comes to the rescue. Kinda.

"Yeah? I didn't realize that many people saw her. You knew who she was?" Lee sounds impressed.

"Well I've only been watching her as long as they've been broadcasting her!" Raihan laughs. "I just didn't know she was your sister." He looks down at you and narrows eyes slightly. It's probably imperceptible to Lee, but you're not quite sure how to read it. Is he mad that you didn't know him? That you didn't say who you were? "But like I told her earlier, what kinda weather specialist would I be if I didn't pay attention to the upcoming forecasts?"

In the back of your mind, you can feel it. There's absolutely a storm coming.

#pokemon fanfiction #raihan x reader #raihan fanfiction

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vivianbernadetteaurora · 3 days ago

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Mars in libra ♎️ in fall

So when you see them doing it with someone else it might not be so cute and he had his.. Venus and Mars in Libra even though he is a Virgo and it is disputed whether he’s a Capricorn or Sagittarius moon. I swing more to the side of Capricorn because of virus and things like that and him contracting HIV and then later aids.

Don’t ask me why I just feel like that makes more sense to me. One of them seems to rule the bloodstream I’m pretty sure those two signs. So where did it become a challenger in his life apart from that. the balance within his group. with band mates such as borrowing may and the jealousy between the two. and the rivalry

And also his double life Libra double life it’s her dual sign... and he had a very lonely life where he became close with this man is in the the film by him and rapsody he came close with this man who basically revealed all the dirt on him I think he was meant to actually be one of his lovers and he was really cold hearted... and write all about freddy’s lonely life Freddie was the life and soul of the party but all his friends in the band. Kind of turned their back on him a little bit and he was all on his own anyway at the end of his life he met someone I think his name was Jim and they looked very similar as often gay couples do even more than straight couples. Like Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss. Who. In a magazine they did a whole shoot of them two together like they were a couple and they were all wearing the same clothes in each shirt. And lastly this picture had been a I I’m not too sure but it was still weird but I know for sure they definitely did a magazine shoot together.

. now that’s someone with Sagittarius energy but also strong water energy Taylor Swift and she, is believed to be secretly in the closet and leaving clues in her songs in her clothes etcetera there’s a whole community of people online on TikTok on Spotify on YouTube who believe that Taylor Swift is actually lesbian. And I would not not believe it because I’d believe anything nowadays. And the way she sticks up for women and that and is proud of women I at least think she’s bisexual even though I’m not a Taylor Swift fan I’ve listened to one of her songs and it was amazing they did like this piece on SNL I think it was. Anyway here’s how Mars and Libra can go wrong if you want more detail and you want me to go into more than one person let me know. This Mars in Libra modern labor. When it’s not so good I’m Freddie Mercury had his Venus in Libra as well and I always say these people can be so charming and to be careful with their charm because they will be doing exactly what they’re doing to you to somebody else and that’s that’s what I believe no matter what sign it’s in it will work that way like I said I was going to do Heidi flies the Hollywood madam.

Whitney Houston another person who has a gay title this Mars placement. because in the beginning of her career she was attached to Robin Crawford. a friend of the family but her mum was incredibly homophobic whitney's mum... and she didn’t like Robin at all and the family all made her feel very uncomfortable but she was whitney’s friend and she was the one she was taking to award shows free Bobby.... in fact I think they would have rather her be if a woman beater than her to be happy with someone who treated her right which is really sad for Whitney because at the end of the life of her life she was with Ray J who is either hollywood’s pimp or drug dealer or both I don’t like the way he operates I mean if he works with the Kardashians and other sex tape with Kim that makes enough for me to make me think he’s really shady. and then the balancing act with how this placement can go dark so obviously it’s in the opposite sign of what sign it would be good in which is Aries Aries the God of War Aries Mars Mars the God of War Aries the sign of getting things going and getting on with things.... being straight to the point no sugarcoated unless there’s other pet placements like pisces or possibly Scorpio or Gemini. So yeah at the end of their life she was treated really badly and there’s a picture there’s a video even of the day before or a couple days before she died where she’s talking to the devil Clive Davis himself while he’s with an interview with Brandy and Monica and she hands the... major Brandy which grandy’s never revealed and Brandy is ray J’s older sister... it probably said can you get your brother to get me more drugs or something it was really sad what he did to her and I’ll never forgive him for it... on a Pamela who is so powerful in the industry and their partners career has... dwindled they were popular at one point in time but now their wife has taken over and they have to deal with that emasculating them and The funny thing is that both her. And Whitney both have a partner with their Mars in a water signSo they both had partners,, who were violent with them and then got back with them after the violence and they both gave a lot to the public over the years and have become culturally iconic and popular culture in the industry and in an other way.We love u guys

#fypage #astro observations #astro placements #astro community #astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astroblr #iconic #2000s

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slenderversefunnn · 16 hours ago

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So, I will answer everything that is written here in order. Let's start with the fact that unstableanginapectoris and I are different people, just because we share the same opinion, subscribe to each other, communicate does not mean that I am a puppet and similar nonsense.

I am not a fan of Adam Rosner and Jeffrey Koval. Adam Rosner is certainly a good screenwriter, but as I said before, he's a bad person and the most I can like is his work, but nothing more. I also separate creativity from the author, I'm not some crazy fan. It's important for me to make sure what's true and what's not. It's important for me to figure out what's going on. I'm not ready to take anyone's word for it unless there's a good reason, and it's not just about the victims, it's about the actors too.

I understand perfectly well what the statistics of violence against women are, I have never disputed the figures in statistics, and I also support women who have ACTUALLY been subjected to violence. But I think that when it comes to such serious accusations against a particular person, it is completely irresponsible and even illogical not to provide evidence. However, these statistics have nothing to do with this situation, since we are not talking about statistical violence against women, we are talking about a specific situation that has developed mainly around Adam, and let's return to a more specific discussion. I agree that people who have experienced violence are not required to talk about their experiences, but if they talk about it, referring to a specific person, they ARE REQUIRED to provide evidence. Following your logic, you can accuse any person of violence without any evidence. Have you ever wondered why evidence is required in the same court when it comes to charges? It seems to me that the tendency to take everyone's word for it is extremely wrong. Even Adam's friends, I'm sure, have enough reasons to pin something on him that he didn't commit in order to sink him to the bottom in the eyes of other people, because I understand, based on the situation as a whole, that Adam is far from the nicest person, and that's putting it mildly. he's a DISGUSTING person, there can be a lot of reasons to lie about Adam's violence, starting with the fact that he's acting like an impulsive child (in a bad way, because being impulsive at that age is not cool) and I'm more than sure, that by his actions he could do an impressive list of unpleasant things to many people. However, I prefer to adhere to the opinion that it is impossible to accuse a person without evidence. Violence, especially sexual violence, is not something that can be blamed based on words alone. Adam Rosner is a bad person, but that DOESN'T mean you should try to pin something on him that he didn't commit.

And I also don't know how many times I'll have to repeat that I consider both Adam and Jeff to be disgusting, unpleasant, vile people, because both Heather and you stubbornly ignore it for some reason. But I can't be sure in Adam's case that he's a rapist and a zoophile, and I've also seen that he's been accused of transphobia and racism, and they've literally hung everything they can on him without supporting evidence. Yes, I can quite believe Eve and partly Ress, especially Eve. I can believe those who prove their words. And I'm sick of the fact that Adam was in love with an underage girl, I don't like his irresponsibility and many other traits. I'm not so much interested in the situation with Jeffrey Koval, the situation with him is pretty clear, I don't respect him for what he did, and since he confirmed his actions himself, I have no questions about the situation. (Jeff is a separate topic for conversation in principle, but I just want to say that I do not support him, I do not understand why there was less excitement with him than with Adam, although in fact Jeff is also a nasty person, he is no better than Adam).

I want to say that I generally did not expect anyone to respond to the post with my opinion, especially one of the actors or their friends. I'm also not trying to get some kind of "recognition" from the actors, and I'm well aware that Adam and Jeffrey don't care about me, but I'm not interested in their attention. As I said before, I would never want to know both of them personally. I just want to understand the situation, and I am outraged that many people believe that you can accuse a person of anything without taking any responsibility for your words. Accusations of violence are serious and loud, naturally I don't take your word for it.

I want to make an appeal to the entire Slenderverse fandom. The fandom is sick and you are ready for this conversation. The fandom is sick not only because of the actors, but also because of the fans. Important note: I do NOT condone any violent actions on anyone's part, I just want to know the TRUTH and do not support either the madness of the fans or the inadequacy on the part of some actors. Also in this post, I will cover not only the situations with the actors of EMH and the Marble Hornets, but also the specific situations with Jeff Koval and Adam Rosner. We all remember how Brian was sexualized and threatened, how Tim was bullied, and how Evan was harassed and threatened. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, because in fact, many actors have been subjected to varying degrees of disgusting treatment from fans. Threats against the actors, death wishes not only for the actors, but also for their loved ones, insane harassment. And even if the fan frenzy has subsided at the moment, it's still there.

If we talk about the actors themselves, then when it comes to Jeff Koval, one logical question arises in my head: "why did they hush up what happened?"Jeff was an abuser and a manipulator and, of course, he is a vile person. The way Jeff treated his girlfriend and Evan is truly disgusting. And indeed, it seems to me very hypocritical and twofold how Adam was canceled, but Jeff was considered "not the same thing," and here's why: I conducted my own little investigation into Adam's situation and also looked at all the evidence here and I haven't found any convincing evidence that that he's a rapist, even though he's a really NASTY person. And before you start writing about how I justify him, let me explain my position: for me, Adam Rosner is an unpleasant, vile person with whom I would never want to have any personal contact, he certainly did and said a lot of disgusting things, but there is no evidence specifically that he's a rapist, and I'll explain why.

Now let's talk about my own little investigation into all the accusations that have been leveled against Adam Rosner. Personally, I consider him to be a vile person, but my goal is to find out the truth, not pin all mortal sins on him. So, let's see what I found out.:

Let's start with zoophilia. From what I saw, the "screenshots" come from only one person, there is no one else who could confirm them and say: "Yes, it really happened, I saw these messages from Adam not in screenshots.", or: "Yes, Adam personally told me about it." (with the real evidence base behind these statements). Usually, in such shocking situations, screenshots are taken not by one person, but by several. Also, the "screenshots" themselves don't look reliable, they look very strange. Regarding this, I share the same opinion as Ford Muybridge. If there is a real evidence base behind these screenshots and Adam Rosner mentioned somewhere else about his predilections for animals, then notify me about it, I will study the information and if it is reliable, I will edit and include it in the post.

The situation with Heather also looks extremely dubious. At least because based on how specifically the situations are described, the identity of this person will be quite understandable to those present at that party, as well as to Adam himself. And considering that literally the entire Internet is now on the side of Adam's victims, if this girl were a real victim, she would have no reason to maintain her own anonymity in wider circles either. There's nothing to be afraid of when you have so many people behind you, when you WILL DEFINITELY be supported, considering that other actors have turned their backs on Adam. I don't want to say that I don't believe the victims, I want to say that I consider it unwise to accuse without presenting evidence, at least because anyone who has at least some material or psychological benefit from this can say: "This man abused me." Please, kindly, if you are accusing someone of something, then show proof. Heather didn't attach anything to the post, even something trivial that would make it clear that she really knew Adam. And it's not necessary to reveal your identity to the readers of this post, it would be enough just to show some photos with Adam that are not publicly available. I can't believe that over the years of friendship, there can't be some personal photos or at least something that could confirm her personal acquaintance with Rosner. According to one of the commentators, under the full list of charges the actors from EMH have officially refuted Heather's words, but I personally have not yet verified this information and cannot say that this is true, however, I felt it necessary to indicate this here, as the commentators, who will also be like me, are not lazy to understand this, they may try to find more accurate information on this subject, and I will include it in the post if it is reliable.

About the situation with some screenshots and Adam's statements. His vile fetish for "little sisters" turned out to be really true, he confirmed this in his apology post, posted either in 2016 or in 2017 (I saw both dates and I do not know which one is correct). As well as some disgusting statements about some people. Well, to add to that, what's disgusting is disgusting, and I won't deny it. The only thing I would like to point out is that his apologies really look vague, without any evidence or specifics.

Regarding the situation with Ress. A shared selfie cannot be considered proof of a sexual relationship. But as for the screenshots, there are really big questions for Adam, however, there is still no direct mention of sexual contact, so I would like to see and know more, it's hard for me to draw unambiguous conclusions from hints and fragments, but I do not deny the possibility that Ress may be telling the truth, her words still sound more believable than Heather's words.

About Eve. Her story is more believable than other stories, given that the number of screenshots and photos is much greater than other people's. If the screenshots are not fake, then it turns out that Rosner was really in love with an underage teenager as an adult, which is certainly disgusting. But one thing is bothering me - why was Eva unhappy about being ignored with Adam Rosner's disregard? After all, if you think about it that way, then realizing his feelings, he tried to distance himself from her quite reasonably.

The situation regarding his phone call is ambiguous. In my opinion, two people are responsible for sexual intercourse. If a girl took birth control pills and knew exactly when to take them, as well as how much they work, then I have questions for her, because the pills she takes are her area of responsibility. Adam's area of responsibility is to inquire about the duration of the pills and read the instructions for them. In my opinion, they both behaved irresponsibly. In addition, she claimed that everything was fine when he was interested in both her condition and her financial situation (the situation in which she gave him the money). Agree, when a person constantly assures that everything is fine, but in fact it is not, then this is already his area of responsibility, since people around him cannot read minds. I am shocked that I have to explain such elementary things, given that the girl, as I understood from the phone call, had also inadvertently become pregnant before (starting at 08:20 in the recording of the phone call, the girl says that she had already become pregnant unplanned before not from Adam, correct me, if I was mistaken, English is not my native language). Given her previous unplanned pregnancy, wasn't it her area of responsibility not to have sex, realizing that her morning pill wasn't effective for the entire day? As for Adam's excuses, I don't like the way he tries to shift his part of the responsibility to the fact that he was young, as well as his phrase that he always regrets being in debt more than anything else in life, is really strange. My opinion is that they both behave like irresponsible and very impulsive people. I don't like Adam himself or the girl. My personal conclusion about the situation with Adam Rosner in general: of course, he is a disgusting and vile person and there is a high probability that he could REALLY be in love with an underage teenager, as well as have consensual sexual contact with a minor. However, it is just as likely that he is NOT a rapist or a zoophile. I think it is extremely wrong to pin all the sins of humanity on a person, let him be responsible for what he really did. And yes, this does NOT negate the fact that I find it disgusting that he fell in love with an underage girl, being an adult, it makes me sick, BUT he is not a monster, not a rapist, not a murderer.

Returning to Jeff Koval, I want to talk about the fact that the main claim against his manipulativeness and abuse is very similar to the claim against Adam, given that there is no real evidence that Adam Rosner committed violence (which does not negate his other vile actions, but we are now talking specifically about violence). And Jeff didn't do any better than Adam, not at all.

I am not calling for any cancellation or harassment of any of the actors or fans. I consider the "cancellation culture" to be a very ambiguous and in many ways destructive phenomenon, it's like how people stone a person, making him a scapegoat. The "cancellation culture" is disastrous due to the fact that it is lynching, and lynching is not always correct, it can spread a lot of false information. I don't want to say that the victims are "guilty" of anything, but seriously, do I have to explain why lynching is a bad thing? If we talk about people who turn out to be victims, then proving your words is important. Of course, one should not immediately blame someone who claims to be a victim, but I believe that the presumption of innocence SHOULD also be taken into account. Without proof, the world just turns into chaos. Indirect evidence may also not always be something that would really prove a person's guilt. The world is not black and white, please do not forget this and check the information PERSONALLY, use your critical thinking.

I would also like to discuss separately the topic of T12 cancellation in general. It seems very unwise to deny the importance of this project to the entire Slenderverse fandom. Of the main complaints about the plot from people who devalue T12's contribution to the fandom, only a couple of complaints turned out to be significant. Most people talk about things that are described and explained in Milo's journal. Correct me in the comments if this is not the case, but Milo's journal was written personally by Adam Rosner, therefore, this is canonical information. And I'm pretty sure that if this whole situation with Adam hadn't happened, the information from Milo's journal would have been included directly in the videos themselves. Read the journal and you will find that many plot holes are closed just by describing the events from there. Adam Rosner is a good screenwriter and creator, but a bad person. I also don't want to devalue his contribution to the Slenderverse fandom, although as a person and person he disgusts me.

I think I'll draw a general conclusion from all this and summarize it. I think that people in the Slenderverse fandom should reconsider their attitude to everything that is happening. Many actors no longer want to have anything to do with Slenderverse and Creepypasta, because fans have an extremely inappropriate tendency to treat actors as radically as possible, and there is definitely a problem with sexualization, bullying from series in the fandom, etc. It is inappropriate to wish someone dead, to find out where a stranger lives and threaten him. And yes, understand that lynching is not a good thing, and I'm surprised that I need to explain exactly why this is a bad thing. Check the information, ask for evidence, and stop trying to find scapegoats. Adam Rosner and Jeff Koval are really nasty and unpleasant personalities, but before accusing someone of all mortal sins, it's worth figuring out what's true and what's not. I would like the Slenderverse fandom to become better and less radical, as well as for people to engage in critical thinking before throwing serious accusations at anyone.

#emh #t12 #tribe twelve

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