#I don't think regular paper will stand up as well

[revenantghost]

Oh my god oh my god oh my god

There's a Vash and Wolfwood dog papercraft

[bogleech]

ALSO ON STORENVY HERE

ONCE UPON A DARK TIME IN THE TERROR AGES SOME MORON SCARED THE WORLD TO DEATH (GEE THANKS PAL!!!!!!!) BY WRITING A STORY CALLED "THE DAY OF ALL THE BLOOD." THE STORY WAS SO DARK AND GROSS THAT ANYONE WHO READ IT GOT SCARED IN REAL LIFE ALSO.

NOW MANY CENTURIES LATER THE SAME TWISTEFIED AUTHOR IS PUTTING THE STORY IN REAL PAPER YOU CAN TOUCH ALTHOUGH THE STORY IS STILL FAKE (………OR IS IT…………..) ALONG WITH SEVERAL OF THE ORIGINAL RELATED STORIES AND A BUNCH OF BRAND NEW ONES TOO SCARY TO PUT ON THE INTERNET!! ALSo the new stories aren't entirely in caps lock anymore because that got old if they were LOUDER you would get scared so hard you would quite possibly die to death for all time. This small thin paperback prints and ships in time to ruin thanksgiving or maybe christmas!!!!!!!

BRAND NEW STORIES INCLUDE:

THE MOST MURDERED GIRL IN THE WORLD: One day a girl did not listen to her mother, and got murdered by all the murderers in the world at once. The power of almost 100 murders at once transformed her forever…but into what!? The clue is in the title, but you'll never guess. heh heh heh.

THE TRUEST CRIME: one day there was a crime so terrible you will not be able to read what the bad guy did without throwing up your guts at how evil it was. Let's just say it sends 100 MILLION BABIES to prison…and that's only the beginning………

THE BODYLESS DOG: what happens when a dog gets its body cut off and doesn't die!? Well he isn't happy about it I can tell you that much.

VAMPIRE HANDS: this story is about YOU and the time your hands turned into the hands of a vampire. Maybe you think having to keep your hands in tiny coffins all day long doesn't sound so bad but that is only one of the more than one things you have to do when you have vampire hands!!!!!!

THE INVISIBLEST KNIFE: in this story you accidentally kill everyone and everything you care about and even ruin a hot dog completely. Don't worry! There's no such thing as the invisiblest knife! I am looking around right now and I don't see it anywhere. Do you??

WHEN ALL THE STEEL TURNED INTO WORMS (and it was not my fault!!!) this is one of the LONGEST stories (more than two pages!) in the book and is about when one day all the steel in the world became worms that were scared of humans so if you even looked at a car it would fall apart from all the worms running away into the dirt. Again these are descriptions and not the whole stories so this is just one of the things that happens!

THE DAY IT RAINED THE HEADS FROM SPACE: what happens when a really sharp human space probe meets a planet where everyone is the same exact height and always stands in a line on a perfectly flat plane?!?!?!?!?!!?!!?? Well they aren't happy about it I can tell you that much.

THE DOG THAT WAS TOO LONG: you like dogs, do you??? Well sometimes wishes come true but sometimes…sometimes wishes suck and were stupid to make actually. Fool.

THE WEIRD GUY: don't worry, there's no such thing as a weird guy, and if there was, it would not turn out to have been you all along! Pretend you didn't read this massive spoiler.

THE GHOST'S GHOSTS: everyone knows a ghost is twice as scary as a regular person, but what about a ghost's ghost? Obviously that would be twice as scary as a regular ghost. A twisted tale of how the human race is exterminated several hundred times in a row.

DARKNESS MOM: the worst most awful most disgusting scariest monster in the WORLD!! You will TERRIFIED to read about this mom who is TOO TALL and has a GROSS TOO LONG TONGUE and SHARP MONSTER HANDS and if she GETS YOU she will make you be IN TROUBLE all the time for like NO reason!!! NOOOO!!!!!!

THE THINGS THAT DID THE WRONG THINGS: you better not read this secret government list of things that do the wrong stuff!! The secret guys will catch you and you'll have to go to secret jail so you don't go telling everyone about anomanolies such as THE WORST TURTLE (three words, FOOL: spikes on it) or THE CLOCK THAT TELLS TIM (tim is alright though this is not his fault)

THE HALF MURDERER: what if a normal person and a murderer had a baby? It's more likely than you think! Or shall we say…half more likely…mwa ha ha ha

THE REVENGE OF THE DAY OF ALL THE BLOOD: THE LONG FEARED SEQUEL (WARNING: this one is in capitol letters again, it is PULLING NO PUNCHES!)

…………AND MAYBE SOME MORE IF I FEEL LIKE IT! *actually some more are already in it I just might add a couple more than that even

[broooooo]

The life change

____________

Sup bros!

It's been awhile hasn't it😅, I hope I can still do this

Hope you like it!

_______

I'm coach josh, I teach at a college coaching the school football team, we have a good team full of muscular , toned, handsome men, obedient and horny, just how I programmed them to be.

What? You think its easy getting a good team?, no, I had to craft these boys into obedient football jocks, sure they still have their lives ahead for them, one day I'll let them go, so they can go off and achieve football greatness, but for the time being, they are MINE, I will just get a new team.

Today was like the rest, teaching pe class as usual, a group of girls and boys, a regular class, the boys among the class are mostly all sporty, and energetic, some at even my own jocks.

As usual the girls who don't do anything sit out or have an excuse to sit out, while the rest join in with the boys. Unfortunately, not all the boys join in.

Aaron, he is the only one who sits out, he's slender, tall, long hair, he's quite good looking in his own right, but he's not athletic, he's not smart nerd either, sometimes he joins in, but doesn't do much on the account of not being able to or want to, he quietly just draws in his book., he doesn't have many or any friends at all, he's a wall flower , no one really pays attention to him

Well .. except me I guess

I watch in disappointment again, it's always like this. Though what's odd is whenever we have football practice, he seemingly likes to stare at the players , deep in thought , I notice it at times, and wonder what he's thinking, he draws at the same time, so I've always been curious to what he draws.

Today in class It was a small game of football. Girls Vs boys. A regular exercise in this class. I'm planning on watching Aaron again, to see what he does.

*alright class!*, I shout out, * today is girls Vs boys football!, get ready*

I glance over at Aaron's and there he is looking, though it's just minor glances, it intrigues me.

The boys, and girls put on either their own cleats or extras we have in storage and Everyone gets in their positions, the boys getting pumped up and the girls look excited to try and beat the boys.

Aaron looks over at the boys , a glimmer in his eyes, I wonder what he looks at.

*alright class, we want a clean game, no cheating, ready? GO!* I blow the whistle and both sides go at each other.

I go off the side lines and watch, I stand near enough to Aaron to keep an eye on him.

No much happens the next 20 minutes, though Aaron seems to be in deep thought as he draws.

The game nears it's end as the victor is concluded.

The boys win, as I expected of my jocks, never letting the team loose.

I go off to check on everyone and conclude the class, behind me I hear a scrunch and a sigh, I turn and see aaron left a scrunched up ball of paper where he once sat, he walked away along with everyone else.

This was my chance, I had my expectations as to what I'd see, maybe it was empty and I'm over thinking it.

When everyone leaves the field, I go over to the paper and pick it up, once back in my office, I sit down at my desk and place the ball of paper on my desk, my heart races. Why I have such an obsession with this guy, idk, it's almost concerning, maybe I see potential in him, yeah.

I slowly unfold the paper, what I see shocks me,but also I'm not surprised?

It was a half finished sketch of a football player...

A football player I think? I wondered why, but then I noticed the hair of the player, long hair...

Is this supposed to be him?, my lips curve up into a devious smile..

So.... He's interested in football after all?

Oh my dear Aaron... I'll help you out one way or another. Not until you're one of my obedient and horny jocks.

_____

That night I devised a plan, I'll try to get close to him, speak with him, maybe I can get him to confess what he really wants...

The next day at school, I see Aaron at his locker, he's wearing long baggy towers, a black t shirt and sneakers, a comfortable fit.

I go up to him..

*hey Aaron, got a minute?*

He turns to look at me, tall and muscular,

*er .. sure* he says

I pull out the flattened paper ball, *so.. I found this yesterday, I assumed It's yours? You shouldn't litter you know*

Surprised, Aaron takes the paper away *oh... Sorryy. . won't happen again*

*oh it's ok, anyways, is that you drawn on that paper? It's really good? Didn't know you liked football*

Aaron gets visibly nervous *oh... Er... Yeah... Just a bit*

Noticing this, I see his eyes, a glimmer in them, a yearning for more, *now come one now, no need to be shy*, I smile, * why don't you come by my office later? We can discuss a few things?*

Aarons more surprised than ever, in a bit of a cold sweat, *I - er... Sure... I guess we can talk*

*sweet ! Meet you later champ!*I pat his back and walk away! My grin evidence to my excitement, I can't wait to see what this boy is hiding..

____

Many hours later, I wait in my office, patiently but excited, hoping he shows up, my muscles bulge in my lycra shirt, my feet shaking slightly..heart pounding, if he doesn't show up , I'll have to call in one of my jocks and have him pleasure me.. , I my dick bulge throbs , I'm extremely horny , at the thought of turning Aaron into a jock...

Then it happens.. the door opens and I see Aaron coming inside and closing the door , my vision clears and I jump up excited, *oh hi ! Er.. Aaron, glad you could make it* I sit back down on my chair, *come ..sit..* Aaron sits down at the chair in front of the desk. *What did you want to talk about?* Aaron says

*well my boy, your attendance in class isn't going so well. It's required you join in, unless you're physically ill or have a medical condition, not being able to do the activity because you don't want to or can't s no excuse*

Aaron tenses up *oh...* Unable to form an answer that isn't an excuse, *idk sir..*

*I don't know won't cut it.. i know it can be hard, but you gotta give it a ago, do. You have a sport your interested in? how about football? , I saw your drawing , what's the story behind that?* Internally im screaming to find out more about Aaron,

Aaron tenses up again and looks nervous, his eyes shine with a yearning upon hearing the word football, *oh.. well... Its nothing.. really...*

I look disappointed *now now, why else would you draw yourself as a football player? Is that you want to be one?*

Aaron sighs and relaxes.. *well... It was a dream of mine.. you can say... But I was unable to join in , and I'm not a child anymore..*

My heart races , yesss.... This is perfect... The plan is working perfectly.

* a dream you say? But it doesn't matter the age , you can join in and learn to play at any time, and since you seem so interested in football, why don't I coach you? *

Suprise fills his eyes,* what? Why? But I can't.. I don't know think I could.. I'd be wasting you time*

*nonsense! I can see it in your eyes, the yearning for more.. you want it deeply don't you? I believe you can do it*

Aaron looks down in shock...*do you really think I could do it? But I've never played ... Idk where to start*

I exclaim back* and that is why I am a coach. Listen Aaron.. you got what it takes , I'm sure of to, tell me .. what is it about football do you like? What attracts you to it?*

*oh. Well .. I really want to feel like air in my hair, the breeze as I run free, the bond between teammates as forever friends, I really like the kit too, cleats mostly ..*

*that is all I need to know bud! You have the want, you have the drive ,a dream, you want this don't you? To be a football jock?, like the boys on my team, I see you look at them every pe class*

Aarons face turns red with embarrassment*oh.. .you saw that?* ...

Yes, I do want it, I want it so badly* Aaron exclaimed.

I go over to him and look him in the eyes

*Aaron, I can make your dream come true, will you let me hell you?,you don't have to worry about how hard it might be, leave that to me*

Aaron's eyes shine with hope* sure... I'll do it* he smiles.. *what do I do first?*

*that it's Aaron!* I pat his back with excitement,

*what to do first? , well , we will have to test your skills on the field, and don't worry about the kit, I've got your covered, how does tomorrow sound for a start?*

*tomorrow? Oh .. ok, , thanks coach, see you then*, Aaron leaves the office with speed*

Clearly both of them are as excited as each other

*Soon Aaron... Soon you'll be just like them... A big, dumb, horny.. obedient, football jock,* i grab my bulge and moan in excitement

_____

The next day Aaron enters my office with a pep in his step

*him here coach..*

*Aaron! Great to you see you! I've got a little surprise for you!*

In my arms is a folded kit, clean and neat, with school colours, and the cleats , shiny and fresh, an entirely new football kit! The jersey even has Aaron's name on it , emblazoned on the back,

Surprise fills his eyes, *coach... You bought me a kit? But why... This is... Too much ... So sudden*

*now come on now. I know you can it, and a jock needs his gear doesn't he?*

*me?... A jock?... *Aaron closes his eyes a bit and opens them, *I won't let you down coach... I can do this!* Eyes filled with determination

*that's the spirit Aaron!* "Sinister inner laughing. Soon Aaron... You'll become one of my jocks"

Aaron takes the kit and goes into the locker room to change, the place is a mess, stinks like sweat and axe body spray, there's kit pieces all over the floor, the smell making Aaron disoriented a bit, making his brain foggy .

I go in after he's done changing, I almost cummed right then and there, Aaron dressed up in a full kit, although he's skinny, the kit is already doing its magic slowly, his muscles bulging ever so slightly, slowly growing., Aaron's bulge seems bigger too.. the more he wants this, the quicker the transformation.

*Er... I'm done coach, how do I like*

I go slap his back in joy

*DAMN Aaron, you look like a true jock... Bet you like it don't ya?*

Aaron blushes a bit *well.... Yeah...*

I can see his visible excitement.. he might even be turned on ... This is perfect...

*now come now Aaron, we must test your skills!*I guide him to the field, watching him walk in his cleats, the echoing sound of the studs, I can see it now, his muscles are bulging more, and his eyes seem foggier, but also filled with a passion for football, his dick bulge twitches slightly too

When we get to the field, we step into the grass and Aaron turns to me.

*so coach.. watch first*

*right . Go run, kicking this ball around, dribble around those cones and dummies I set up as training, a few laps every now and then will get your stamina upp and test your hold on the ball, got it?*

Aaron nods his head *yes coach I'll try my best*

A grin wide as it can be spread on my face *good boy Aaron... Now , if you feel like quitting or don't feel like you have what it takes.. repeat these words,

I am a football jock, I am strong, I am big, i am a jock,

Got it?*

Upon hearing those words, Aaron's seems to pause and go quiet. His eyes fogged up and his muscles are getting tighter against his kit. Almost gonna rip it, if it wasn't for the fact it was made of stretch material, then he responds in a minor monotone voice*

*Yes coach.. I am a jock... I will remember*

That's when he runs off with the ball

I watch ,my dick rock hard in my pants, at the sight before me.

That young boy is growing.. his muscles are expanding , his height increasing, he's getting fast and fast on the field, he went from stumbling around to having more control with the ball.. when he stops for water I can hear the chanting under his breath, I am a jock .. I am a jock... Must... Obey...,

His dick is hard in his jock strap too..

Finally almost ready...

*there's my star player!* I pat him on the back, he's sweaty and panting, drooling slightly, *you're a natural there bro! Aren't ya?*

Aaron looks up , his eyes filled with nothing but football, coach, and cumming.

*yeaahhhh... Hiccuppp. Fuuck brah... Fuckin love beein a jock broo* he squeezes his bulge

Finally... He's ready.. he's almost under my command, he's almost a true jock...

*come now jock boy, let's get to the locker room shall we?* He obeys my command and we go to the locker room where I sit him down on a bench, with a TV, and play a Hypnotic video of players and football jocks, with text that will finish the job on his reprogramming*

*now Aaron.. stare.. listen... Obey.. stroke...* Aaron takes out his dick and starts edging to the video..

*yeahhhh brahhhh, *.he drools and leaks cum, his muscles.grow to there final form,.his legs the size of trunks and his face more defined .. his hair is cut into a short under cut haircut like rest of the guys

All that is on Aaron's mind is sex, football, jock, Cumming , and the fact he must obey..

*must obey coach brahh...*

Yesss yesss! I exclaime

*yahh. YAHH, fuck yeah brah....* He's reaching climax

*who are you boy, what are you?*

*fuck brah... I'm Aaaron, a football jock brah*

*And who do you obey*

*I obey you coach... I am a dumb, horny football jock.. I must obey you*

*yes Aaron... That's right.. you are a jock.. a big. Dumb , football

.. jock.

Cum jock. CUM

*FUCK YEAH BRAHHHHHHHH!

*jock Aaron cums rope after rope of cum, his old self leaving with it, leaving mess on the floor*

*fuck brah.. got carried away there... Fuck me.... I'm so fuckin horny bro...* Aaron flexing his muscles and puts his dick away*

*it's alright Aaron, your a jock remember, this what the team does remember?*

*oh yeah... Fuck me bro... Thanks brah... I forget a lot... And on that bro.. I have a party bro.. see you later coach !*

I watch as my new football jock Aaron leaves the locker room. I cum at the sight of him..

His dream came true... He became a big, dumb.. football... Jock

Are you next?

______

RIGHT, hi. Long time no see,

I hope you like it . I tried my best

Untill next time bros!

Bro out!

[octuscle]

Hey there! I'm having a debate with my roommate and wondering if you can help settle it. He says that if you gave someone the body of a jock, without any mental changes, they'll eventually start acting like a jock anyway. I don't think that's true. Just because you have muscles and look like a jock doesn't mean you'll start acting like one, right? We were thinking of trying to set up an experiment for our honor's thesis and wanted your input, thanks!

Are you really sure you want to go through with it? We are happy to do it. I'll create a preset for you that only changes your body. But really. 1.90 m tall. 140 kg of pure muscle mass. But everything else stays the same. To be honest, you don't look like you're ready for it. But it's up to you. I can only recommend that you are in a safe and, above all, unobserved place when you activate the preset.

You take a deep breath. You stand naked in the middle of your room. Next to you, you have laid out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top, a jockstrap, a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. You can only hope that the clothes will fit your new self. 3. 2. 1. enter!

Wow! Holy shit! Now that was quick and without a transition. You look down at the floor from a slightly greater height. And when you look down, all you see are pecs. Fucking huge pecs. You need a mirror. Phew! Very slowly! The new body works a little differently than the old one… Your center of gravity is much higher up. You stand in front of the mirror. This no longer has anything to do with you. It's more Greek demigod than human. Your cock is getting hard. A huge cock that fits this huge body. You never wank. Especially not in the middle of your room. But now you have to. Not for long. And a huge load lands on the mirror and the floor. Yes, I've changed a few details apart from the height and muscle mass. You've already noticed one thing. You'll notice the others too.

You're convinced that the new body won't change anything. So you act as you always have. First of all, you clean up the mess. You are manically clean and tidy. Then you put on your clothes. The shoes are a bit tight, but otherwise everything fits pretty well. So off you go to the library. After all, your honors thesis isn't going to write itself.

Iris and Rita at the information desk didn't recognize you when you greeted them. They looked at you as if you were an alien when you wished them a good morning. You sat down at your regular place in the library. You like routines. You started working on your thesis outline when Vincent came over. Vincent always sits three tables behind you. Nice guy, similarly obsessive as you. He clears his throat and says that you can't sit here, the seat is taken. Actually, you should have said something along the lines of "Vincent, don't you recognize me, it's me!". But somehow you can't help it. You have to try it out. You cross your muscular arms behind your head, look deep into his eyes and just ask who cares. Vincent retreats like a beaten dog. Three minutes later, you have a WhatsApp message: "There's some stupid musclehead sitting in your seat!" You reply that it's okay, you're not on campus for a few days for empirical studies anyway.

But you're not as productive as usual. Your new body is keeping you busier than you thought. It feels so good to tense your muscles. Your hard cock is constantly leaking precum and is always half stiff. Shit, after an hour you have to jerk off. Fuck, you make quite a mess in the toilet. You try to clean everything up with toilet paper. When you come out of the stall, a student is standing at the urinal, looking at you and wanking. Get out of here quickly, you think to yourself.

The incident is definitely worth recording. After all, you've never experienced this before. But it was hot. As you type out your thoughts, your stomach begins to growl. So loud that Vicent hisses "Pssst". It's actually too early for lunch. But the canteen is about to open. So you're one of the first in the queue. You can hardly wait. And you heap heaps of food onto your tray. You're so hungry.

The weather is good, you sit down at a table in the sun and, ignoring all the table manners, you wolf down your food. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting "Hey, guys, there are empty seats here with the big boy!" You look up. A couple of idiots from the football team are standing at your table. "Dude, okay if we join you?" asks one of the guys, who seems to be some kind of leader. "Sure thing," you say with your mouth full, spitting a bit of your chicken across the table. "Cool," he replies, giving you a fist bump, which you return somewhat hesitantly and also a little awkwardly. And before you know it, you're sitting in a cloud of sweat, testosterone and stupid comments.

You start talking to the boys more for scientific reasons. They ask if you're Fresman because they've never seen you before. You say that you're actually studying somewhere else, but you're here to work on your Honor's thesis. The leader spits his Coke across the table. "Fuck, dude! You already have a degree? In what? Lifting iron?" Everyone laughs. Very loudly. You too. It's actually really funny with the boys…

The boys go to the gym after lunch. I wonder if you're coming too. You don't even think about it. You just say that you haven't got anything to change into. Everyone laughs and asks if anyone is interested. So you go along. It's a field study, you think to yourself. You're observing everything very closely. You don't want to attract negative attention. The processes seem very simple. You copy what you see the boys doing. You even enjoy it. You work up a sweat. You forget the time. The others are gone at some point. You're still here. You look in the mirror. Your long, sweaty hair falls across your forehead. Your friends all have much shorter hair. It's also more practical when working out. You look at your watch. Shit!!!!! You have to get your stuff from the library before it closes. Trevor, sitting at the information desk, doesn't recognize you either. It's already very empty when you pack up your things. Vincent is still there, mumbling something about how antisocial it is to occupy a space you're not using. You don't know why you're doing this now. But you go to him very slowly. You press his face into your armpit. And say that you had more important things to do. Shit, Vincent is seriously licking the sweat out of your armpit hair now? Pathetic little fucker, your new friends would say now. You're far too surprised. By you. By him. Slightly disturbed, you go home. You throw yourself on your bed and think about your first day as a jock. You fall asleep.

You are actually a person who is always well prepared. But you are amazed at how little you have prepared for this experiment. You have a combination to wear. It's still sweaty after yesterday's workout. But you don't have anything else. So this morning you're not going to the library, but to the paint shop. Shopping. A pair of sweatshorts, a few tank tops, socks and jockstraps, sneakers. A bit of compression gear for training. You pass a barbershop. There are a couple of guys inside who are obviously no strangers to the gym either. Fuck it, you think. Down with the long hair!

You haven't been in the library this late in a long time. Vincent has blocked your seat for you. With a few protein bars. Cute! He winks at you when you come in. You raise your arm and smell your armpit. Shit, you haven't showered! Fuck… Well, maybe the little prick will like that even more…

By lunchtime with the boys, you at least want to have logged yesterday and this morning. And you're looking for some literature on the connection between mind and body. Most of it is ancient. Nothing has been published on the subject for a long time. And if there is, it's more about the effect of the state of mind on the body. Less often on the effect of the body on the state of mind. That's obvious, because normally a genius like you doesn't acquire a body overnight…

The lunch break with the boys was cool. The guys are just very chilled, you like that. No highbrow topics. Just sport, fucking and partying. Unfortunately, a lot of football too. You have no idea about that. After lunch, the boys want to throw some balls on the lawn. You have to go to a colloquium later. And Luke said that you should finally replace those nerdy glasses with contact lenses. The visit to the optician was a good excuse not to embarrass yourself at football.

A whole day without going to the gym sucks! That's why you got up early today. You didn't do your thesis assignments yesterday, nor did you get your muscles burning. That has to change. Shit, you're still struggling with your contact lenses. But it looks a thousand times better. You're screaming alpha with every trained muscle fiber. And that's great! You almost feel at home in the gym. And nobody questions your position. In the library, Vincent provides you with everything you need. He fetches books for you and takes them away again. He has also already offered to help you with your work. What a loser! You don't need to order anything in the canteen after just two days. Your extra large portion of extra protein-rich food is prepared especially for you. Twice. You come once when the canteen opens. And once just before it closes. Your body is a machine. And this machine needs fuel. Lots of fuel.

You sit in the library and document the developments of the last few days. It really is only a few days. Reading through the last few lines almost makes you nauseous. Has your body replaced your mind so quickly? You need to get a grip on yourself. You did your Master's with distinction. You're working on your honor's thesis. You have a chance of getting a professorship at your old college. And you suddenly prefer to spend more time in the gym or with the airheads on the football team? You make a plan. Two hours of gym in the morning, two hours break with the bros at lunchtime, two hours of gym in the evening. And in between, focus on your thesis and your studies. It shouldn't be that difficult. You're an intelligent and disciplined man. So let's get going!

You have made every effort. And you actually come to the conclusion in your thesis that the body of a jock does not automatically lead to the mind of a stupid, arrogant and superficial jock. You have fun with both. Training in the gym and hanging out with the bros. And working scientifically and researching the human psyche. But in a lecture you realize that it's not you who changes, it's your environment that changes you. Since you got this body three weeks ago, no one has spoken to you about your studies. Vincent, who you thought was intellectual through and through, just wants you to let him lick your armpits in the evening. Your bros didn't even ask you what you were studying. And then the day comes when you attend your doctoral supervisor's lecture. Since your transformation, you've only spoken or written on the phone. You sit in the front row. You appreciate your doctoral supervisor for his liberal political views, his rhetorical skills and his incredible knowledge. At the end of his lecture, he looks at you. And asks if the young man, who unfortunately was unable to dress appropriately, understood a word of what he had just said. He assumes you were mistaken in the lecture hall. But if you invest your energy in your biceps and not your brain, that's to be expected.

First you think about whether you are saying anything particularly intelligent. To express your indignation at his insolence. To justify yourself. But then you think about what has been really fun in the last few weeks. And who you really had fun with. And you answer "Nah, professor dude! Dat wuz alot of words n stff u sed. I dnt thnk I need all dat for my degree as a personal trainer. wdut, bro?" You make your pecs dance. The lecture hall laughs. You stand up. Fuck the honor's thesis!

You started studying sports economics again. You also work as a trainer in a fitness studio. And you have a pretty successful YouTube fitness channel. You recently received a call from your old doctoral supervisor. He read through the draft of your honor's thesis again. It was all very promising. Why did you drop out? You say that you obviously have to choose between brains and brawn at some point. And you're grateful to him for helping you decide. And with that you hang up.

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy II

a yandere art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... ->chapter map

II.

-It takes about three classes for you to finally relax around Professor Wick. You still feel his eyes upon you when you pose, but he does not make you feel uncomfortable. In fact…he is painfully proper with you. As he should be, of course, but sometimes, late at night when you are kept awake by your thoughts of him…you wish he would be just a tad forward. It's unseemly, what you would let that sweet man get away with. Therein lies the conundrum, you suppose. If he made a pass at you…he wouldn't be so sweet. 

-One day you are making your rounds during the break, when you happen to notice Professor Wick was drawing at his desk along with the students. You were in a reclining pose, feigning sleep. The way he drew you…you know better than to think you could possibly look so alluring in real life, but there is something in the varied weight of his lines, the soft shading. Somehow he configured the shadows of the background to suggest wings folded over your supine nude form. 

You've never really liked your body. Well…who does like themselves, truly? But modeling in the classroom, seeing your flesh turned into art, has helped you find a confidence, or at least an acceptance, you didn't have before. Wick’s rendition goes beyond all that, though. You can't let this go to your head. It’s too much. “I hope…you don't mind.”

Again, he's crept up on you without a sound, and you nearly jump out of your skin. 

Clutching your heart, you look back at him. 

“No…I…it’s beautiful.”

You don't know where you get the courage to meet his high-polished onyx gaze, but you feel something inside you implode…then melt. 

“You're beautiful, y/n.”

You have no idea that this is the first time he's drawn anyone besides his wife, since she passed. 

You stand like this in agonizing stasis, close, but not touching, for you don't know how long. You're not sure what might have happened, given enough time, but some of the students return to class, and the moment is broken. You don’t know if you're disappointed, or relieved. 

-You don't know why it's taken you this long, but you finally look up “John Wick+artist”. What you find takes your breath away. Yes, he's a skilled draughtsman. And a painter. And sometimes he combines all these things with bookbinding. 

He's incredible. 

His paintings are dark, with a touch of fantasy, evoking grisly folktales and the old masters in his play of light and shadows. He uses perspective and foreshortening to explore the human body in exciting new ways. He made his name with a series of ethereal ballet dancers in precarious situations. Later, he only painted his wife, Helen. She was a photographer, and in a snap of them with cheeks pressed together they seem impossibly happy. You see that she succumbed to a terminal illness two years ago.

The art world has not heard from John Wick since. 

You do not know this man, really, but you cry for him all the same. 

-You have no idea, how you move him. It's not just that he's seeing you naked on a regular basis, though that does not help. It's the flash of your eyes across the room, your smile and your laughter as you joke around with the students while they draw you as God made you. There is a light in you that he cannot turn away from, perhaps because he has lived in darkness for so long. He craves you– and he knows he shouldn't.  He traces your form with charcoal on paper, and he tells himself that that will have to do. 

He looks you up too. 

He finds your little miniature paintings on your social media, your digital portfolio for all to see. You make tiny eclectic diorama scenes you cook up with a 5/0 brush, sometimes you add moving parts and teeny dolls with teenier twee companions. Polly Pocket never had a pet opossum…poor girl. Your diminutive pieces hint at a longing for the enchantment of childhood lost, and maybe a cozy home that feels whole, if not strange to an outsider’s eye.

He notices you have not created anything you feel like sharing lately. He wonders if you are ok. The answer amongst the creatively inclined is usually not. But if you are not happy…you hide it well. 

He senses there is a well of strength in you that he wishes he could drown himself in. 

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[estellan0vella]

Fraying Ties Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The buzz of the tattoo parlour hums in the background as you sketch the final touches on a client's custom design. It's a calming routine that helps you focus, a necessary reprieve from the unpredictable nature of your epilepsy.

As you admire the intricate patterns forming on the paper, the door chime jingles. You look up, expecting a potential client or one of the regulars. Instead, your heart sinks as you see your parents storming in.

Their faces twist in disgust as they take in the sight of the parlour. The scorn in their eyes immediately focuses on you, and you brace yourself for the onslaught.

"Well, look who it is," your mother sneers, her voice dripping with condescension. "Still wasting your life away in this dump?"

You open your mouth to respond, but your father cuts you off with a derisive laugh. "And look at that," he points to the large tattoo on your arm. "Making yourself even more of a freak than you already are."

Heat flushes your cheeks, anger bubbling up inside you. But before you can retort, Gojo saunters over from his piercing station, his casual demeanour a stark contrast to the rising tension. "Hey there, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N," he says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Can I help you with something?"

"Stay out of this, Gojo," your father snaps. "We're here to talk some sense into our daughter."

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen," Gojo replies, his tone light but his eyes hardening. "Maybe you should leave before things get out of hand."

"Out of hand?" Your mother scoffs. "The only thing out of hand is our daughter throwing her life away and associating with people like you."

"People like me?" Gojo's eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his face. "You mean successful, independent, and happy? Yeah, terrible influences."

Your parents' faces darken, but before they can retort, Toji and Geto join the fray. Toji crosses his arms, a menacing glint in his eyes, while Geto stands tall and imposing beside him.

"Is there a problem here?" Toji asks, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yes," your father barks. "Our daughter is the problem. She needs to come home and stop this nonsense."

"Nonsense?" Geto echoes, a smirk playing on his lips. "You mean her job that she's amazing at? The career she's passionate about?"

Your mother's eyes narrow, her gaze flicking to your tattoo again. "And look at her, covered in those hideous tattoos. It's disgraceful."

"Disgraceful?" you finally find your voice, your hands trembling with rage. "The only disgrace here is how you treat me. You've never accepted me for who I am, and you never will."

"Watch your mouth, young lady," your father growls, stepping towards you menacingly.

"I'm done watching my mouth," you snap back. "You're a miserable old bastard, and you," you point at your mother, "are a condescending bitch."

The room goes silent for a moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Your father's face turns red with fury, and he raises his hand as if to strike you. But before he can make contact, Toji steps forward, grabbing his wrist in a vice-like grip.

"Touch her," Toji warns, his voice a deadly whisper, "and you'll regret it."

Yuji and Megumi, who had been quietly observing the chaos, rush to your side. Yuji clings to your leg, his eyes blazing with defiance. "I'll kick you again!" he shouts at your father, his small frame trembling with anger.

Megumi nods, his own expression fierce. "Yeah, and I'll help!"

You smile down at them, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. "It's okay, boys," you say softly. "I've got this."

But your father isn't done. "This is exactly why you need to come home," he snarls. "Look at what kind of people you're surrounding yourself with."

You laugh, a bitter sound that echoes in the tense room. "These people," you say, gesturing to Gojo, Toji, Geto, and the kids, "are more family to me than you ever were. So why don't you just fuck off?"

"Fuck off!" Yuji and Megumi echo in unison, their voices filled with innocent ferocity.

Gojo bursts into laughter, clapping a hand on your shoulder. "You heard the lady. Time for you to leave."

Your parents stand there, stunned and humiliated. Finally, with one last glare, they turn and storm out of the parlour, slamming the door behind them.

The tension in the room dissipates, replaced by a collective sigh of relief. You sink into a chair, your hands still shaking, but a weight lifted from your shoulders.

"Those are the only people you can tell to fuck off," Toji says, ruffling Yuji's hair affectionately.

"Yeah," Geto adds, crouching down to Megumi's level. "But you did good, sticking up for Y/N."

Yuji grins up at you. "Did we do good, Y/N/N?"

"So good," You say. 

As you pull Yuji and Megumi into a hug, the door chime jingles again. This time, it's Sukuna, back from his errands. He steps inside, immediately sensing the residual tension in the air. His sharp eyes scan the room, taking in your pale face and the relieved expressions of your friends.

Before he can ask what happened, Yuji rushes over to him, eyes wide with excitement. "Suku! Me and Megumi told Y/N/N's parents to fuck off! And I threatened to kick her dad again!"

Sukuna's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and then a slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face. "Did you now?" he says, his voice low and amused. He ruffles Yuji's hair, pride glinting in his eyes.

Toji steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, her parents showed up, causing trouble. We had to step in. Y/N handled it like a champ, though."

Gojo appears beside you, pressing a sugary soda into your hand. "Here, drink this," he says softly as he guides you to a chair. "You need to get your blood sugar up."

You take the soda gratefully, sipping it slowly as the room starts to feel more grounded. Sukuna walks over, his eyes softening as they meet yours. He crouches down beside your chair, one hand gently cupping your face. "You okay, baby?"

You nod, feeling the weight of his concern. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just...a lot to deal with."

Sukuna's thumb strokes your cheekbone as you sip on the drink. "Did they touch you?"

"No," Toji interjects. "But her dad was about to. I made sure he didn't."

Sukuna's jaw clenches, his anger barely contained. "They're lucky they didn't." He looks back at you, his expression softening again. "I'm proud of you. You stood up to them."

You manage a small smile, the support from everyone around you filling you with a sense of belonging. "Thanks. It was time."

Megumi tugs at Sukuna's sleeve, his serious little face looking up at him. "We helped too, Suku. We protected Y/N/N."

Sukuna's expression softens even further as he looks down at Megumi. "You both did great," he says, ruffling the boy's hair. "I'm proud of you, too."

Gojo chuckles, the tension fully melting away now. "Well, looks like we've got the best team here. No one messes with our family."

Your heart swells at his words. Family. That's what this was. Not the toxic relationship with your parents, but this—a group of people who truly cared for you.

You take another sip of the soda, feeling the lightheadedness start to fade. "Thank you, all of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sukuna stands up, pulling you to your feet and wrapping an arm around your waist. "You'll never have to find out," he promises, his voice a low growl. "We're here for you, always."

Yuji and Megumi cheer, their youthful exuberance a balm to your weary soul. You laugh, the sound light and genuine. Surrounded by your chosen family, you know that no matter what comes your way, you'll be able to face it together.

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1 @kalulakunundrum @ryomku

[spamton-deactivated19970420]

i made a little hand-sewn beast based on everydayspamton's drawing & took it with me on a family roadtrip

if you'd like to make your own, i've included the [[FREE]] pattern & some rough steps below the cut, as well as an Educational Video

EDUCATIONAL VIDEO. THIS IS NATURAL SPAMFISH BEHAVIOR & IT IS NOT SCARED OR IN PAIN.

BEAST CRAFTING INSTRUCTIONS:

disclaimer: i'm an amateur & i've never tried making a pattern before, nor have i ever tried writing directions

materials you'll need:

sewing needle & pins

black thread & white thread

fabric in these colors - black, white, red, yellow, & pink

stuffing

(optional) a squeaker

notes:

for the thread, i suggest something thicker, like whats used for embroidery - i used two different thicknesses on mine, & i think the thicker one; (the black thread); stands out a lot nicer

for the fabric, i used craft felt. its nice because its cheap & malleable, but if you want something that can actually be washed & played with without disintegrating on you, don't use felt. different fabrics will have different results, though, & may not give you a clean-looking edge & lines

you can also just go nuts & use whatever colors of thread/fabric you want, make pattern alterations, whatever

if you make one, feel free to @ me, send an ask or DM me with it, i'd love to see!

^^^ here's the pattern!

now the actual steps?:

1.) download & print out the pattern - it should(?) fit normally across a regular sheet of printer paper. i don't have exact measurements, i eyeballed this whole thing & then lost the original pattern - (there's only a copy that i scanned & edited left on my computer. woops.)

2.) cut the pieces out. pin the patterns to the fabric color the instructions call for, & cut out the number you need for each

^^^ here's what you should end up with!

now the sewing! for this whole thing i used doubled-up thread & a 'running stitch', then went over it a secondary time with another running stitch to fill in the gaps. you could also try using a 'back stitch' (which i don't know how to do), but that might be tougher. the goal here is to give it an Outlined look, like a drawing

3.) with white thread, sew the pink & yellow eyes onto the glasses - pink is Left, yellow is Right. reference the image above if you're not sure!

4.) sew all the fins pieces together - on the black fin, use white thread; & on the white fins, use black thread. reference the pattern for the detailing. i made my own front fins 'wrong', but you don't really have worry too much about being exact

5.) overlap the Head pieces onto the Body pieces - making sure you have a Left and Right side! pin the heads to the bodies, & compare their lengths by holding them together to make sure you've got it right. sew the heads to the bodies using black thread. detail the head with black thread, & detail the body with white thread

6.) now that you've got the two sides of the body completed, you can hold them together to try to get even placement for the red cheeks. pin each cheek to each side, then sew them on with white thread

7.) using black thread, sew the pink glasses onto the Left side of the body, and the yellow glasses onto the Right side. they'll be slightly overlapping the cheeks

8.) with white thread, sew the front fins on to each side. NOTE: i put mine on wrong, & didn't realize until i was finished. for the 'right' placement on these (closer to the original drawing), reference the pattern, & not the images

you now have all your parts ready for assembly! for me, this is the hardest part. you'll need a bunch of pins - use the guidelines on the pattern and/or reference the below image to get the right placements

9.) pin in the back fin & the nose. leave some space on the bottom for stuffing when you start, & using black thread, sew together the nose & the fin unto the body - the fin should be sandwiched Between the two body halves

10.) pin in the tail fin. continue sewing down the back with the black thread, & sew the tail fin in - once again, it should be Between the two body halves

11.) pin in the back fin between the halves. continue with the black thread, sew along the tail & sew the back fin in - Stopping once its secured. you should have some good space still open on the belly

12.) time for stuffing. using something thin, but not sharp - like a chopstick or the back of a crochet hook - & push stuffing into the nose & tail portions. stuff the head about halfway. now, if you have a squeaker, put it into the widest part of the head, & stuff a little around it

13.) still using the black thread, sew the belly up a little more so its easier to keep the stuffing in, & then fill up the rest of the body. once fully stuffed, sew the remaining hole together

14.) congrats! you now have a spamfish. if you opted for a squeaker, squeak it thoroughly

don't worry if it's not exact, some individual variation is fun & makes your creature unique! mine has upside-down front fins with upside-down detail lines

here's the thing with some friends i had made a little bit before him. have fun with your beast!

i am not liable for any damage it causes to you or your property

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stand behind the counter, ready to serve the next customer that comes through the door. If you thought the rush was bad, the lulls are worse. The time drags by as the clock seems to taunt you. You sigh again as you hear Bre clattering around in the back room. You’d rather be back there folding up empty boxes and scouring trays.

You yawn and waver on your feet. The small local cafe doesn’t have the consistent traffic of the franchised kiosk just down the block but there are still hectic rushes. The mornings just after nine, then at noon when the office workers run out for a refresh espresso or a lunchtime sweet, but the afternoons usually deliver no more than the errant college student on their laptop or a few friends in between visits to boutiques.

The door opens and you glance over at the man who walks through the door. He strikes you as out-of-place as he struts across the cafe, hitting a table with his thigh, and sneering at it as if it insulted his mother. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and his hair is slicked back while the sides of his head are buzzed. He wears a black turtle neck under and open jacket and a pair of matching slacks that show off his ankles. His loafers are a rippling grey and black snakeskin print with a shining silver buckle.

You grip the sides of the till as he approaches but he doesn’t look at you. You stare, a little put off by his lack of acknowledgement as he peers up at the menu. He steps forward, tapping his fingers on the counter as he blows out between his lips. A golden signet ring flashes on his pinkie. You’re still not sure he’s in the right place.

“Hello, sir, can I get you--”

“Shh,” he hisses and holds up his finger. You snap your mouth shut and blink. He squints at the menu. He hums, clucking as he gives a thoughtful look to the hand-painted letters. Alright?

You wiggle your foot impatiently, biting your tongue. You’re not an inherently rude person but some customers make you wish you were. You watch him and he finally lowers his chin.

“Oat latte. Half blonde espresso, half regular, with the toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

You nod as you punch in his order. It’s quite the drink. Sometimes you think people just pile on to see how far they can push service workers. They can’t just have a simple drink. Some even request the temperature to the digit.

“Alright, got it, it’s fifty cents for the syrup, is that okay?”

“Fifty cents?” He echoes haughtily, “no, that’s not okay.”

“Um, okay, well, it’s uh, on the menu,” you crane to look behind you, “fifty cents for a flavour shot, twenty-five for whipped cream.”

“I didn’t ask about goddamn whipped cream. They don't charge me here, doll. Get me the goddamn drink,” he demands.

You reel. Admittedly, you’re new. You’re learning but your first lesson was simple; customers are awful.

“I can just take the syrup off, I guess,” you hit the x and the whole order disappears.

“Didn’t you hear me? No charge, honey. It’s on the house.”

You purse your lips and look at him. You raise a brow. Alright, this is a new one.

“Um, if you’d just hold on, I think... uh, I should ask--”

“Yeah, you better fucking ask,” he sneers as swipes at a stack of paper cups and sends them flying. You flinch out of the way and spin to burst through the door to the kitchen.

“Uh, Bre,” you say, “there’s a really angry dude out there and he wants a free latte so uh, what do I do about that?”

She looks over at you as she puts a tray of cookies on a cooling rack. She frowns and her forehead stitches. She pulls of her oven mitt and checks her fitbit.

“Shit, it’s Thursday,” she mutters as if it’s the end of time.

“Yeah, it is, so uh--”

She waves away your words with the mitt and tosses both on the counter as she hurries past you. Confused, you turn to follow her through the swinging door. You stay behind her as she goes to the till.

“Mr. Hansen, so lovely to see you, what were we getting today?” She chimes, more lively than you’ve ever heard you. At any other time, she’s dulcet, almost monotone, completely over the cafe lifestyle.

He scoffs and his eyes drift from her to you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, “oat, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” he notes each element tersely, “and how about you teach this one some goddamn manners.”

He glares at you and you give a wide-eyed look. You shrug at Bre as she glances over at you. She shakes her head subtly. You take a step back.

You grab a cup and she quickly takes it out of your hands, “I got it, stay out of the way.”

You put your hands up and back away. You don’t know what you did wrong. Who is this man? He smirks and hovers on the other side of the counter as he crosses his arms over his puffed chest. Bre brews a fresh espresso and steams the oat milk.

“I’m waiting, sweet lips,” he cups a hand to his ear, his other arm still over his chest.

You look back and forth.

“Apologise,” he demands.

Bre clears her throat and you glance over, your mouth falling open dumbly.

“Oh, uh,” you face the man again, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know--”

“Well, now you fucking do,” he sneers as Bre places a cup down before him and a paper bag.

“Mr. Hansen, there’s a cinnamon bun for you too. We just took em out of the oven.”

“You’re such a dear, Bre Bear,” he cooes, sending you a venomous snarl.

You cringe as he spins and strides out with his fare. You watch after him, still thoroughly perplexed. Bre wipes the counter with a cloth.

“The next time he comes in, give him whatever he wants,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I didn’t... who is he?” You garble.

“Better you don’t know. Just think of him as the boss,” she sends you a desperate look, her eyes gleaming, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll smile and listen.”

She brushes you with her shoulder as she goes back into the kitchen. You furrow your brow and glance towards the door. The man’s just outside the windowed walls, watching you. He winks before he disappears beyond the next facade

[arrowthrewme]

Hello Arow how are you? First of all I love your page. There are really few soft yandere posts and seeing your posts made me very happy. Especially when it is written so beautifully. I would like to make a request. Yandere with a mute who likes physical contact × reader or yandere mute × reader, whatever suits you. Thanks in advance. I am eagerly waiting for your posts. I wish you a good day.

Hello! I'm doing quite well considering that school is kicking my ass :D

I'm so happy to hear that my silly little posts make you happy and yeah, there are so little yanderes that aren't "alpha male, protec my omega". But that's exactly why I made this blog!

(and I am eagerly awaiting your judgement. I wish you a good day)

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, male reader intended

Tell me why your hands are cold?

"Be my voice, and I'll be yours only."

Yan Mute, who you meet at your new office job.

Yan Mute, who is weirdly quiet. Only nodding in greeting anf going back to work. You learn his name, not from himself but from another coworker. Dimitri. Oh, and he's mute!

Yan Mute, who, after you kept bringing him coffee every morning and a little treat (hoping he'll open up and actually talk to you), starts sticking to you like a barnacle

Yan Mute, who sits next to you during every meeting, stands next to you during every break, even walks you home (if you walk home, if you don't, he'll try to carpool)

Yan Mute, who quickly becomes a regular in your life. Texting, chatting (which consists of you talking and him writing his responses) and always touching you as much as he can

Yan Mute, who just can't help himself but touch you every day at least 50 times! You're the only one who actually tried to get to know him and not treated him as just some annoyance

Yan Mute, who holds your hand and plays with your fingers whenever he's overwhelmed

Yan Mute, who will cry if you tell him to loosen his hold (it's practically a death sentence for him)

Yan Mute, who if you learn sign language, will marry you on the spot (not like he wouldn't anyway. You could give him a piece of paper and he'd be rushing to the nearest church.)

Yan Mute, who practically melts if you kiss him. Your lips are definitely his favourite part of you

Yan Mute, who, when jealous, gets pouty and clingy. He's an insecure guy, so he always thinks that you'll figure out that you're too good for him and leave him. So the sight of you being affectionate (aka polite) with someone makes him want to cling to you like a whiny puppy

Yan Mute, who sighs "I love you" every time he can because no one else in your department knows sign

Yan Mute, who wants kids. Wants to start a family where he would be loved. Where you and him would be together forever.

Yan Mute, who has you talk to everyone if you're together since it's both the most reasonable thing and because he suffers from horrible anxiety

Yan Mute, who doesn't really care if he's the little or big spoon. He loves holding you and loves you holding him just as much

Yan Mute, who though doesn't have a voice, will make sure you know just how much he loves you <3

[thatoneghostthateatspeople]

Random ass au I thought of a few weeks ago

Not original at all I'm sure theres plenty of these out there. But. Tma Teacher au notes: I mention characters ive written nothing about in here. the formatting is ASS. I have never read a single Tma teachers au fic but I'm sure they exist. I will almost certainly do NOTHING with this au I just felt like sharing instead of letting it rot away in my notes. ONTO MY RAMBLING

Who: Jonathan sims

Role

 English teacher (Lit and Lan )

How liked

Most people don't mind him, however he can be quite strict and  sort of rude to students who don't pay attention. Some of the students have been known to throw paper and purposefully act up in his class just to annoy him. Although those students quiet down a lot after the first half term thanks to Mr bouchard. He is also a bit of a suck up to said Bouchard.  

Students in his class say that he's actually a really good story teller and gets all the students, even the worst of them to go quiet while he speaks. Even those students who dislike him and the subject are enthralled in his storytelling.

Rumours

He has stayed in the school overnight on several occasions because he forgot to plan the next days curriculum  or he was grading homework. 

True this has happened so often that he put a spare blanket in one of the unused supply closets in the teachers lounge so he can nap on the couch instead of at his desk.

Habits

Always has a newly brewed cup of tea per class period (thanks 2 Martin)

Who: Martin k blackwood 

Role

School librarian

How liked

Most students feel relatively neutral towards him, only those who hang out in the library often really notice him enough to form an opinion. A few of the meaner students seem to kind of bully him due to rumours of him being gay and hence he spends a few too many afternoons picking up books off the floor.

Rumours

He has a crush on the English teacher Mr Sims, and several students have bets in regards to whether or not they will get together. These bets actually led some students to finally hanging out in the library and just asking him questions to seek answers. Martin doesn't quite realise why this is but he doesn't mind the company. 

True Martin has a massive crush on Jon. The other teachers also know about this due to tim having found some of his bad poetry when Martin's bag tipped over that one time 

He gives tea to the regular visitors of the library and even sometimes buys specific brands if he knows the students' tastes.

True  he does, he also does this for the teachers because he's a sweetheart.

Habits

He  listens to some of Jon's classes  especially when he reads out poetry. He does this during classes when nobody is visiting the library because they are learning. He stands beside the door and just listens. He doesn't get caught often but when he is he just makes a hundred excuses. if it's staff they tease him quietly. If it's Elias, he pretends he doesn't realise why and asks if he needs anything from Mr Sims and watches him scramble to make another excuse. If it's Jon himself he just gets questioned and leaves.(Jon's supper Sus of this and think Martin's going for his job)

When Jon's out sick he definitely is the first substitute (even though he's not a teacher Elias lets him as he finds it amusing ) and although not nearly as well as Jon he can also get the students interested.

Elias Bouchard 

Role 

principal

How liked

He is often considered quite scary. He looks very strict  and has a very stern face so most people avoid him or going to him. However those who have spent any time in his office say that although he is sort of scary he is also relatively lenient on many of the rules. However if he called your parents in your pretty much fucked as your getting a passive aggressive verbal beatdown.

Rumours

He has a notebook for each pupil filled with every single fault that the student has ever done, even rumours. They say that he uses them for the trouble makers during parent teacher meetings to tear the child apart.

Truth, he also has some for the teachers.

He once did weed with a few students in a bathroom. Most people don't believe this one but it's still passed around a lot. The teachers seem to have convinced the students it's not true,which wasn't hard due to how serious the guy is as well as the lack of evidence. There were no students who saw it, not anyone else in town.  

True! The reason for the lack of evidence is that it happened in the second year of his job and all of the people involved moved away. He did it more that once in fact and still smokes on the most stressful days ( not useally in school and never during a school week) once during a very stressful day of ciriculam planning Mr Sims had to drag Mr bouchard home while he rambled about some of the shitty parents he had to deal with who had been harrasing him all summer

He also has cameras in the school hallways and he's rumoured to watch them all the time and that is how he gets all the dirt. Alongside gossiping

TRUE the teachers have even caught him doing it and he sometimes watched the teachers.

He's homophobic. According to some students he "looks like a bigot"

False!!!! He has a husband! Also it's an assumption with only one small thing that could possibly be considered an indication. Aka once some students overheard him talking to Mr Blackwood about his insistence to do things for Mr Sims like bring him tea and listen to his teaching (Jon had asked him to soooo ) even the other teachers believe this falsehood. Well aside from Sasha, Gertrude,and Rosie (Rosie having seen Mr Lukas dragging a high Elias home over one summer. Gertrude had asked Rosie about his ring and got that confirmation. as well as noticing the matching ring on peters finger that one time they spoke. And finally sahsa because she snooped through his computer)

Habits: smoking weed, favoriting Jon, messing with the teachers and stealing their food.

Who: Timothy stoker

Role: History teacher

How liked

Almost everyone who takes his class states that he's their favourite, some students have even left confessions of love on his desk (all of which have been promptly rejected and transferred to a different class.) He's considered the fun teacher. He teaches in an almost play-like way, constantly getting students to participate in the activities by making a sort of game out of it. (He absolutely uses kahoot and other stuff like that)  some students are even so fond of him to come out to him! While Tim loves the fact that his students feel so safe with him he does try to discourage them from getting "too close" and he is just a teacher.

Rumours

That he gossips with students about the other teachers and even gives kids warnings about upcoming pop quizzes and surprises from other teachers. 

True he does indeed! He even gossips among the other teachers and  Mr bouchard himself (idc they would be pretty buddy-buddy)

He slept with Mrs James and their dating

Semi true while yes they have slept together they are in fact just friends!

That he's bisexual 

True yeah- he's also probably flirted with some of the students single parents at the start of his career- both genders ofc. the men don't usually realise tho-( he stopped after he got reprimanded one to many times by Elias)

Habits

Gossiping with other students, teasing Martin, dragging sasha out for impromptu drinks on school days(to be usually rejected) Wearing Hawaiian shirts instead of something more professional. He has done this so much that the other teachers have given up trying to get him to act professional and even getting surprised if he didn't look like a flaming bisexual (also this is where the majority of the rumours come from)

Who: Sasha James

Role

Science teacher

How liked

She is well liked however some students are slightly afraid of her as she can be very strict. Her students often say they like her teaching methods the most as she sometimes uses game-like ways to learn, despite the fact that she teaches high schoolers . While students may hate the subject they still engage regardless simply because they want to get on her goodside.

Rumours

she has slept with Mr stoker and is daring him

Semi true

 whole yes they have slept together once it was only a one night stand and they are in fact only friends. Whenever it is brought up and she overhears she tells off whoever is talking about it and clearly states they are just friends ( her efforts have begun to work over the past 6 months) however it is still joked about

She steals food from the vending machine in the teachers room and gives it to students who struggle focusing

Almost true.  There is no vending machine in the teachers room, she just says that so her students don't feel bad over her buying the kids nice things when they feel bad. She also lets all her students eat in class if they aren't doing a practical and if they can clean up their mess.

That she plans her pop quizzes around when the other teachers plan theirs so her students are less stressed. 

True she only denies this due to the fact that it would be admitting to looking through the other teachers laptops.

Habits

 Sometimes she and Tim during their free periods will pop their heads into each other's classes simply to say hi which all the students laugh at. (Especially when they do it to the other teachers like Mr Sims who gets annoyed when interrupted)

When she sees a student of hers in public she tends to go say hi and is relatively casual with them unlike the other teachers who tend to freak out a little. 

Once one of her older students was in a bar and came across Mr James, Mr Stoker, Mr Blackwood and Mr Sims all of which were drunk (Jon to the point he passed out and Martin was packing up to take him home) which left the student shocked. Sasha was actually awkward about it for once and began talking about the biological side effects of drinking alcohol until they finished talking. (She was drunk and panicked)

[poisonlove]

It's a Date? | w.a

Y/n invites Wednesday Addams to an unusual forest outing, pretending there's a mystery. In the cemetery, amid gravestones and shadows, they share a special moment, discovering an unexpected connection.

I find myself in front of Enid and Wednesday's room. My throat is tight, and my heart beats so loudly it echoes in my ears. Inviting Wednesday on a date makes me strangely nervous, a whirlwind of emotions translating into an exhilarating anxiety, a feeling of fear and anticipation blending together.

The plan was simple... invent an excuse to capture Wednesday's attention and venture into the woods, where the date would take place.

I take a deep breath and open the door, immediately seeing my best friend in bed, while Things does her nails. I slowly move my eyes to the other side of the room, where Wednesday Addams is immersed in writing her novel with the typewriter.

Wednesday Addams, sitting in front of the typewriter, exudes an air of cold calmness. Her long black hair is neatly tied into two braids, falling gracefully over her shoulders. Her facial profile is regular, with a fine nose that rises with grace. Thin lips are closed in a determined expression as her fingers move precisely on the keyboard. The atmosphere is charged with creativity and mystery, with Wednesday seemingly completely absorbed in her narrative world.

Enid genuinely smiles when I enter. "Hey, Y/N, how are you?" she asks with her warm smile.

"Fine, Enid," I reply, trying to hide my nervousness. "Um, how's your boyfriend doing?"

Enid laughs slightly. "Well, you can imagine, always busy with work. But let's say everything is fine. But now, tell me, what brings you here?"

I shift my attention to Wednesday, trying to keep a seemingly casual tone. Enid smiles mischievously, aware of the reason for my visit.

Enid glances out of the corner of her eye at Wednesday and smiles broadly.

The blonde clears her throat. "You know, the other day something strange happened in the woods..." Enid exclaims casually.

Wednesday straightens up and stops typing on the typewriter. "What happened?" I ask with genuine confusion.

"Don't you remember? You told me the other day! Someone died, but the body disappeared into thin air. The only thing they found was a shoe. Now it's in the sheriff's hands in case there are any developments," Enid says, tilting her head to the side and looking at me with confusion.

I open my mouth and understand her look. "Oh yes, yes... I needed someone to come with me to see," I mutter distractedly.

In the most subtle way possible, Wednesday puts the papers aside on the desk and stands up from the chair. After the solved mystery of the Nevermore monster, Wednesday had no more stimuli to satisfy her investigative side. This mystery seemed perfect.

Wednesday's movement catches the attention of the two girls. "I'm coming with you," Wednesday mutters softly.

I widen my eyes, and Enid immediately corrects Wednesday, "No, no, I can't come," the blonde murmurs quickly.

Wednesday thinks Enid is scared and observes her friend.

With determined steps, Wednesday approaches me, and at that moment, the considerable height difference between us becomes evident. Her intense eyes scrutinize me with curiosity, and as the distance between us shortens, we both sense the peculiar dynamic developing between us. Her presence, albeit cold and distant, conveys a subtle tension that cannot escape careful observation.

"Shall we?" I murmur with a thread of voice.

Without saying a word, Wednesday turns quickly, grabbing her bag from the chair. She tightens her lips and tries to slow down her heartbeat by breathing slowly.

"Get ready for an... interesting experience," Wednesday murmurs, adding a touch of mystery to her monotone voice.

The strange combination of enthusiasm and detachment in her words is fascinating as we head towards the exit of the room.

(...)

I walk nervously through the woods, the sound of my steps blending with the rustle of twigs and leaves crushed under my feet. I'm lost in my thoughts, focused on the daunting task of keeping the conversation with Wednesday. I feel her behind me, silently observing me with curiosity as we venture deeper into the forest. Her presence, almost ethereal among the trees, adds a mysterious dimension to the surrounding atmosphere. The forest seems to respond to our passage, a succession of sounds and shadows fueling nervousness and anticipation.

We walk through the woods, "How much longer, Y/N?" Wednesday breaks the silence. Knowing the forest quite well, Wednesday seems intrigued by the fact that we've taken an unfamiliar path. I move a branch obstructing our way and stop, looking at her with curiosity.

"Here we are," I whisper softly, diverting my gaze to the ground beneath my feet.

Wednesday Addams gives me a quick glance before discovering a cemetery around us. "Interesting," she comments with her monotone voice, but her eyes reveal a hint of happiness.

Wednesday notices a blanket near a tombstone and raises an eyebrow, looking at me with a mix of curiosity and indifference. "What's interesting here?" she asks, her voice as sharp as a knife. As I approach, I notice the blanket, and my gaze meets Wednesday's. "It seemed like a good place to stop," I reply, trying to maintain composure that seems to elude me when her eyes scrutinize the cemetery carefully.

Wednesday nods slightly, perhaps approving the choice. "So, what have we planned?" she asks, her interest hiding behind the veil of her tranquility.

I feel warmth rising to my cheeks as I respond, trying to maintain composure. "I thought it might be an opportunity to... spend time together." My voice betrays a slight insecurity, but Wednesday seems to show no emotion.

After the question, Wednesday realizes the basket of food on the blanket, understanding that everything was planned. There was no mystery in the woods, at least not one related to a dead person.

"Is it a date?" she asks with curiosity, looking at me seriously. I nod, feeling my cheeks blush as I sit on the blanket. "I thought it might be a good way to get your attention," I confess, smiling with embarrassment.

Wednesday tilts her head to the side and approaches me more closely. The little Addams kneels, reaching my eye level. With an embarrassed smile, I take a black rose and a Dahlia from the basket. Wednesday watches with curiosity as I do so, and later, she gives me a small smile, seeing the flowers in my hands. Her smile widens, and I unconsciously smile, realizing it's the first time Wednesday has smiled in that way.

In an unexpected move, Wednesday leans in and delicately places her lips on mine. I'm surprised by the speed of the gesture and, above all, by the sensation of her lips, which are lethally cold. A shiver runs down my spine, while the woods around us seem to whisper secrets. It's a moment of quiet mystery among the graves, where the world seems to stop as Wednesday and I share that delicate kiss in the silent cemetery.

Timidly, I melt during the kiss, placing a hand on Addams' side. Her lips are surprisingly cold, but in that moment, the cold seems only to intensify the aura of mystery surrounding us. When we finally break the kiss, I notice Wednesday's lips pulling into a small smile. "There was no need to do all this to get my attention... my eyes are always fixed on you, Y/N/N," she says with a seriousness that makes me blush.

I look around uncomfortably, even though I know we're alone. "I don't like cemeteries," I mutter weakly, reading the name engraved on the tombstone. Two fingers gently touch under my chin, forcing me to meet Wednesday's black eyes. "I know... you mentioned it some time ago," she says with a cold voice.

I raise an eyebrow, and Wednesday fiddles with the flower between her fingers. "Not answering you doesn't mean I don't pay attention when you speak," Wednesday murmurs softly, and I can't help but smile at her unexpected sincerity.

It wasn't an official date, but as Wednesday walked away, her heart was racing. A strange sensation, like spiders weaving a web, made its way into Wednesday's stomach, creating a pleasant restlessness.

I look at Wednesday with surprised eyes. "Was all this not necessary?" I ask incredulously.

Wednesday, with her intense gaze on me, responds calmly: "Maybe not, but it was a welcome surprise."

We sit on the blanket in the silent cemetery, the twilight light dancing among the tombstones. It's a timeless moment, where the mystery of the dark woods merges with the mystery of our connection. Her eyes gaze into mine, and I can feel her heart beating fast. A slight smile appears on her lips, almost like a shared secret.

"It's not official," I whisper, trying to understand the meaning of that moment.

Wednesday nods slightly, her hand getting closer to mine. "It doesn't need to be official to be real," she says timidly while looking at the sky slowly tinting orange.

[fubu18writes]

❧a sugar daddy always treats his sugar baby right

♢regular tags: sugar daddy!kokonoi, sugar baby!reader, f!reader, established relationship, a bit fluffy ♢mature tags: age gap (koko is in his mid-thirties, reader is in their early 20s), oral (fem receiving), a bit of cock worship if you squint, nipple play if you also squint, idk what it's called but reader puts koko's dick inbetween her breasts (i think it's a titjob or titfucking look idk about this), squirting ♢all characters are 18+ until stated otherwise

a/n: imma just say that... kokonoi can be gentle if he wanted to, okay?

After spending the day drinking vodka by the pool, you returned to your hotel room... only to discover that you were locked out. A cleaning lady eyed her suspiciously as you wander around the hall with only a bikini and a towel to cover your body.

And because you were a little bit angry at your boyfriend Kokonoi, you decided to stay in separate hotel rooms. Luckily... he was staring on the same floor as you.

You were hesitant once you made it to his room number, but you decided to throw your pride away and just knock on the door.

A few seconds pass by before you heard the door unlock, revealing Koko. "Baby, what happened?" He asks, looking at your shivering figure. You looked away, a bit embarrassed. "...I lost my room key." You managed to say.

He lets you in, and you examine the room a little. The room was dimly lit, and papers were neatly placed on the table. Koko handed you a bathrobe soon after. "I'll set up the coffee, okay?" He says as he heads off into the kitchen.

You put the bathrobe on and take a seat on one of the seats near the window. Koko came back with two cups and a kettle, and you were looking at the view. "Wow... your view is so much nicer than mine," You say. You hear Koko chuckle. "Well, you can come here at any time."

"I'm sorry about all of this," You apologize, referring to the fight you had a few days ago.

Koko shook his head. "No, don't apologize. It was my fault for not telling you anyway." He reassures.

There was a comfortable silence as he poured the coffee in the cups, admiring him as he does so. Long, white hair, cat-like eyes, a black polo shirt and khakis. While he may be snarky and cocky in public, to you, he was one of the sweetest persons you could ever ask for. Even if the age difference was a little jarring at first.

In other words, you found Kokonoi Hajime irresistable.

The both of you talked, laughed, and flirted for about an hour or so. By this time, you came out of the bathroom, all dried up. Koko was sipping some whiskey from his glass, and looked at you with a smile. "Your hair looks pretty like that, all curly." He says with a chuckle.

"Ah... no, I feel goofy with curly hair..." You say, your face turning red.

Koko let out another chuckle, rolling the ice cubes in his glass. "Not at all, really. And considering that we're not in the office..." His tone was definitely suggesting something, and you could feel it. "We can do whatever we want here..." He finishes, placing the glass down on the table before putting a hand on your thigh. At that, you leaned in and kissed him, the faint taste of whiskey still lingering on his lips.

The kiss was incredible. The bathrobe became untied as they traded tongues. She felt his grip on her thigh, his touch firm yet restrained. When you both pulled away from the kiss, you took his hand and led him to the couch. Koko was sitting, yet you were still standing up. Koko reclines, and you noticed the contour of his swelling dick in his pants. You leaned over, placing your hands on his upper thighs, allowing your breasts to dangle in front of his face.

"I just dried myself up, daddy," You say with a giggle. "You're going to make me all wet again..."

Koko let out a grin as you go down, carefully unbuttoning his pants. You pull them down, seeing his boxers and the head of his dick poking out of the bottom. You slowly climbed on top of Koko, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you both kissed again.

Koko's hands stay firm on your ass as you grind on his hardened shaft. You were the first to pull away from the kiss, untying the strings of your bikini top, throwing it to the side to show your breasts and hardened nipples. "Look how my baby's turned on f'me..." Koko took her left one in his hand, and brought the pink nipple into his mouth.

You threw your head back in ecstasy. He lightly licked your nipple, and you could feel your bikini bottom becoming damp again. You clumsily pulled off his boxers, his dick springing up as you took it in your hand. His girth was impressive, and your hand looked small by comparison as you gently squeezed dick. You heard Koko groaning, giving you lustful eyes. "You like touching daddy's cock, baby?"

"I do..." You say with a shy whisper. "It's so big...~" You continue before kissing him again, crawling over to him on the other side of the couch. Koko took your ankles, jerking your hips close to him. You had curious anticipation in your eyes, and you let out a gasp when he tore away your bikini bottoms in one forceful tug. Koko saw your smile, your hair frizzy in the dim light before eyeing your pussy hungrily. He thumbed her glossed lips, taking her into his mouth as you grip onto his hair.

Koko could feel you squirming, and that only drove him to go deeper. The grip on his hair suddenly tightened as you moaned out, "Oh, fuck...~ daddy, do it more...~" and grinded on his face. Your ankles were shivering with pleasure, with Koko's hand on her inner thigh, and squeezed her breasts with the other. He pinched the edges of her nipple.

It was too much, all too much. You were close to cumming on his face before Koko came out for air, brushing his hair out of his face. The both of you were panting like animals from the sensation. You moved, turning yourself over and you felt the fabric of the couch on your nipples. You hoisted your ass in the air, despite your trembling legs. You turned to him, sounding out of breath as you asked, "Do you have a condom, daddy?"

Koko had one, of course... but he wasn't going to get it yet. "I wanna focus on my baby for a while longer, 'kay?" He asks her.

You weren't used to it. Or used to this for that matter. The farthest the both of you ever gone was just you sucking on his cock and him eating you out, but this? Nothing of the sort yet.

Maybe that was the advantage of being with an older man... he probably knew you were ready.

Without warning, Koko had licked your clit, sliding his fingers inside of her. Seeing you in this state made all the blood rush to his cock. He kept licking and playing until your toes curled, moaning out "Daddy, I-I'm gonna--!" and finally exploded into his mouth. You were out of breath, and all Koko could do was lick up every last drop of your cum. "Baby, you squirted all over...~" He says with a chuckle.

You were a bit embarrassed. "S-Sorry, daddy... it just felt too good..."

"You think you're ready for daddy's cock?" Koko asks as he leaves kisses on your neck. You only tilt your head to the side, managing out a whimper as he bites down on your sweet spot. "I think that's a yes."

Koko stood up, walking over to the bathroom and returned with a condom, his dick saluting her. He fixes the bathrobe, draping it on the couch. Koko applied the condom right in front of you. You could only clench against nothing, and you swore that you saw his cock twitch.

You held your breath, as she felt Koko gliding behind her. The couch began to creak, and you felt his tip just against your pussy before he slid the head inside of you. "T-Too big...~!" You moaned out, your legs shaking again as you gripped on the armrest. "Tell me if it hurts," He says earnestly as his fingers graze her hip.

Like a dream, their bodies move together in a timeless rhythm. You slowly eased his cock into you and rode him steadily. The soft glow of the lamp, their skin gleaming with sweat. "Fuuckkk...~" You moaned out. "D-Daddy...~ F-Fuck me deeper...~"

Koko slapped his hand on your ass, earning another moan from you. "Say that again, baby~"

"F-Fuck me deeper...~!" You moaned loudly.

The sound of their fucking echoed in the hotel room. You had to stabilize yourself, lowering your left leg until you felt the carpet on your bare foot. "Oh god, oh god...!" Your tits sway back and forth. "It feels s-so good, f-fuck me harder...~!"

You came a second time, with him inside as your spine cringed and curved. You let out a shout until your voice ran out. You saw Koko looming over you, and he takes off the condom with his left hand, jerking himself off.

You pressed your tits in between his cock, helping him. "Oh, fuck, baby..." He out a groan, his cock twitching as he released his essence all over. You felt his warm, white cum all generously all over your chest.

They basked in the afterglow of their sex, breathless. "Shit..." You say with a laugh. "I can't stop smiling..."

"You were incredible, baby." Koko kissed your forehead. "You held out and squirted all f'me...~"

[fanbasetwo]

MATTHEW HAVING A SECRET CRUSH ON YOU!

NOTE FROM SENA , thank you tea for the help with the idea!! other requests will take time since I'm sort of exhausted these days and I don't want to rush into posting. [REQUESTED] (this is a fic in a headcanon manner) MASTERLIST!!

join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

i. THE MEET-CUTE AT THE WORK PARTY

It’s one of those awkward work gatherings where everyone’s either standing around quietly or sticking to their teams.

Matthew, the new guy, looks lost but also undeniably handsome with a shy demeanor. You decide to be kind and strike up a conversation because you’ve been there before.

He’s immediately drawn to how easygoing you are—how you make him feel like he belongs.

From that night on, he always remembers the way you smiled when you told him, “Hey, you’ll fit in just fine here. Don’t worry.”

He low-key starts looking forward to seeing you around the office the next day.

ii. THE WAY HE LOOKS AT YOU

Oh, and it’s painfully obvious to everyone but you.

When you’re in a group meeting, Matthew’s eyes involuntarily soften every time you speak. It’s the small things—he watches you talk with that fond look, as if you’re the only person in the room.

He’ll make small excuses to glance over at you, under the pretense of “checking emails” or flipping through papers.

Someone at work catches this (likely your co-worker who knows everything) and starts quietly teasing him about his not-so-subtle puppy-dog eyes.

iii. THE HANGING OUT MORE EXCUSES

At first, it starts casually. “Hey, want to grab a coffee after the team meeting?” “I haven’t tried that lunch spot yet, what do you think?”

Slowly but surely, these invites turn into semi-regular hangouts—he’ll always find a reason to ask.

You notice how he pays for your coffee every time, and if you try to insist on paying, he’ll shake his head with a shy smile. “I just wanted to treat you.”

You find it so cute that you stop fighting him about it.

iv. CATCHING HIM IN THE ACT

It’s a random monday morning, and you’re coming into work earlier than usual.

You spot Matthew at your desk, awkwardly leaving a chocolate bar and a small handwritten note. The note says something simple like, “I hope this makes your day a little better :)”—it’s so pure that your heart flips.

Before he can bolt, you call him out: “Matthew, what are you doing?”

He freezes mid-step, red creeping up his face. “Oh—uh, nothing! I was just—uh…morning!”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Are you bribing me for something?”

He laughs nervously but promises (because you caught him fair and square) that he owes you dinner—like an actual dinner.

v. THE DATE

Matthew doesn’t do things halfway; he picks a stunning, 5-star restaurant because he wants it to be special. He wants to impress you, but not in a flashy way—he just genuinely thinks you deserve the best.

He shows up looking ridiculously good in a suit, and you almost have to double-take because this isn’t your work Matthew; this is “effort” Matthew.

Throughout dinner, he’s attentive and genuinely interested in everything you say. He remembers the smallest details about you—your favorite drink, how you take your food, even random anecdotes you told him weeks ago.

When the check comes, you try to pay out of courtesy, but Matthew just shakes his head firmly. “Not a chance.”

“Matthew, let me—”

“What’s a wallet at this point?” he jokes, and you laugh because he’s genuinely so sweet about it.

vi. THE OFFICE GOSSIP

After your very clear date, you start hearing whispers around the office. Your co-worker corners you at lunch, gleefully reporting, “I knew who his crush was! It’s you. I knew it all along.”

You roll your eyes, flustered, but can’t help smiling because… well, they’re right.

vii. MATTHEW’S POST-DATE BEHAVIOUR

If you thought he was whipped before, it’s ten times worse now. He’s still nervous around you sometimes but far more confident about showing how much he cares.

He casually drops things at your desk—flowers, little snacks you love, or coffee when he knows you’re swamped.

He still insists on “treating you” because “you work hard, you deserve nice things.”

Eventually, he stops pretending it’s casual and just tells you, straight-up: “I really like you. You’re the best part of my day.”

And let’s be real: You like him just as much.

viii. THE ENDING

Matthew and you become the office “It” couple—everyone roots for you because, honestly, it was so obvious from the way he looked at you from day one.

He’s still spoiling you, still making you laugh, and still getting adorably flustered whenever you remind him just how much you like him back.

© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[conkreetmonkey]

trick or treat

You reach out and knock on the rusty old bulkhead, yelling "trick or treat!" as you do.

It produces a hollow, resounding clang that echoes around you, a vibration you feel in your bones.

Wait, where exactly are you? How did you get here?

Looking around, you find yourself in what could only be described as a "facility." You seem to be at the bottom of a rusted metal stairwell you have no memory of descending. The walls are of a rough, filthy concrete, skirted in decaying institutional white tile up to about your shoulders. The floor is of much worse-off dark green tile, accented with the occasional aquamarine one.

Everything is covered in a layer of dry dirt, building up in the corners and missing tiles, save for where the criss-crossing pipes snaking up and down the walls and ceiling drip foul water from corroded fittings, supporting pockets of green algae and moss, and the occasional unnatural-looking mushroom. A completely rusted drainage grate sits in the middle of the room, revealing only darkness beneath.

The air is stale and musty, with an acrid chemical tinge to it. Motes of dust hang languidly in the air, illuminated by buzzing, half-dead flourescent tubes. Wait, this place looks totally abandoned, why is there still electricity? You have no clue what purpose this area could possibly have served. There isn't even an indication of what floor you're on, let alone who built this place and for what.

The door in front of you is all there is down here, save for a few strewn-about pieces of trash, and some ominous neon yellow barrels in the far corner. You don't even want to know.

The door is odd, clearly old and abandoned, yet at the same time bearing evidence of regular use. The valve that presumably opens it is well worn, darkened white paint rubbing away to reveal fresh, unrusted steel. One of the hinges looks newly installed, its gleaming metal surface starkly contrasting its dull surroundings. Shoeprints not matching your own cover the dusty floor, most saturated at the base of the door.

Most damning of all, though, is the laminated piece of printer paper taped to it, reading "NO SOLICITORS" in calibri bold. Somebody definitely lives here, in the rotting guts of some Soviet-ass brutalist hellhole, and you just knocked on their door and yelled "trick or treat!" Uh oh.

As if on cue, the moment you think this, the valve begins to turn with a mechanical squeak, and the bulkhead opens outwards just a sliver, a seemingly gloved hand curling around the edge as somebody peeks out a-- what.

"Ah! I was starting to think there wouldn't be any of you this year!" a nasally male voice says as the door is heftily shoved all the way open, forcing you to take a step back.

Standing before you is some sort of freak.

The man(?) before you is slightly above-average in height. His baggy avocado green t-shirt obscures his midsection, as do his maroon pants, but based purely on the way they hang off his form and the look of his hands and forearms, you subconciously clock him as scrawny to skinnyfat in build, clearly no athlete. His worn black and white sneakers peek out from under the cuffs of his too-big pants, whatever's holding them up obscured by his even more ill-fitting shirt. Both seem to be scavenged from scraps, repaired over and over again with sloppy hand stiching and the odd strip of duct tape.

This is where the normal aspects of his appearance abruptly end.

His hands were never gloved, it turns out; rather, they, along with the rest of him, is a deep, unnaturally saturated bondi blue, seemingly the actual colour of his skin. Even his battered fingernails are a tealish cyan, his lips and lower eyelids fading to a darker, comparatively less ostentatious shade of catalina blue.

A thick, wild mop of taffy pink hair hangs down to his shoulderblades, and would likely reach down to his mid back without its fluffy, springy texture. It looks coarse and unpleasant, but at least not greasy.

A pair of inhuman eyes stare excitedly into yours, neon yellow scleras clashing against red-40 irises in tones typically reserved for candy or tropical fish. They seem far brighter than they should be in this light, and his pupils glint in the industrial gloom like those of a raccoon or similar nocturnal garbage animal. His boyish face sports a five o' clock shadow of pink facial hair, implying it's his natural hair colour, which wouldn't be too surprising considering the rest of him.

He overall looks rather scruffy, yet at the same time clearly at least somewhat takes care of himself. His stubbly face and tangled hair bring up imagery of some sort of basement gremlin, and your surroundings do little to contest this. He smells like sour fruit gummies an-- Wait, what's that on his lip?

Some sort of ooze is trailing from his mouth, luminescent neon green, looking like the liquid inside of a green glowstick. Before you can get too good of a look at it, he licks it up. Then he speaks.

"Here ya go, little guy! A li'l snacky-snack for ya!" he says, plopping something cylindrical and heavy into a plastic bag you just now realize you've been holding. The blue man, despite looking like somebody rubbed magnets on a TV screen tuned to a documentary about homelessness, clearly means you no harm, even if his demeanour is a little eccentric, his scent a little unusual. Before you can thank him, the door slams shut with a "Happy Halloween!" and the squeak of the valve. You're alone down here once again. You look into your bag and remove a strange object:

Huh, weird. It seems metallic, and your hand tingles against its lukewarm surface. What kind of candy is this? Wait, is it even Halloween?

You look around yourself, weighing your options. You don't want to disturb the blue man, him having been so kind as to give you this... whatever it is. It's not like there's anything else to do down here.

With no other directions avaliable to walk in, you start up the rusty industrial stairs, your strange gift sitting heavily in the bottom of your bag.

[thefiery-phoenix]

yandere h.c for Sam, too <33

Sure

YANDERE SAMUEL SEO HEADCANONS

There are no words to express how much I simp for this man despite him being a walking red banner lol 

If you've managed to catch his attention, all I can say is RUN. Although that wouldn't really do you much good either since he's the President of the Worker's Affiliates and he does have a lot of influence, being Eugene's right hand man(before stabbing him in the back) does have it's own advantages. You could be a regular cafe worker or a member of the Worker's Affiliates, whatever it is, when he lands his eyes on you the only thought that will be running through his head will be 'They're MINE' 

He's one territorial, possessive, obsessive and manipulative MF to say the least. He has no qualms even going as far as literally THREATENING the people you're close to, friends and family included just so he can be with you. A literal walking red flag, his arrogant cocky smirk itself should be obvious. He wants possess you and make you his completely, he'll fall HARD for you and when he does, he won't be able to come back from that chasm of obsessive love for you. You remind him of a small little prey, so helpless and naive and he likes it that way. Don't get him wrong, he does love you, in his own twisted obsessive manner of course 

Man here has abandonment issues to the core, daddy issues, Gun issues(Lol who doesn't) and insecurities as well but when you comfort him, he's confused at first, he's genuinely taken aback. It's been so long since he's remembered someone taking the time and effort to comfort him and make sure he's doing all right. He'll reply in a calm and stoic manner that he's fine but deep down his heart is racing wildly, he's secretly really glad you're taking the time to comfort him. He'd rather die than admit this but he does appreciate your gesture. He likes how innocent and sweet you are, which makes him want to protect you and keep you safe. With him. Where you rightfully belong 

He's really not above bugging your entire apartment with hidden cameras so he can get a glimpse of your daily life, it's like a window into what you do everyday. He finds it so amusing and thinks it's adorable how you haven't figured out that he's secretly watching every move you do. He'll have his men find out more about you and the amount of information he has on you, he's ready to write a whole freaking research paper about you, that's how well he knows you now. Your social media accounts, your contacts list and yes, even all those fan fiction sites you like reading and visiting...he'll have them all. He'll immediately block all the people he doesn't like, he doesn't want some random pest stealing you away from him. He'll get information on those annoying pesky friends of yours and his mind will be racing of thoughts on how to dispose of them as soon as possible so you'll be his in every way possible 

No matter what, Samuel is ALWAYS around you one way or another. If some random person tries to hit on you or something, the very next day they'll immediately be reported missing. People will start disappearing from your life like flies and it's all HIS doing. He either pays them money to prevent them from seeing you again or he'll just straight up murder them. Though he does lean towards the second option quite frequently. If you try to accuse him of something, he'll just smirk at you and say something like "Sweetheart, you're mistaken. I wouldn't act as rash and unprofessional as this..." Yeah Right

You'll be kidnapped pretty soon because no WAY is he going to stand by and let someone try to steal you from him. You're HIS. You'll wake up on his bed while he'll have his usual standard smirk on his face as his arms are crossed over his muscular tattooed chest and he strides over to you. "Ah good, you're awake...there are going to be some changes to your lifestyle now'' he says in a calm manner as he lights a cigarette and smokes it calmly, like everything is all right after he literally just kidnapped you. Scream and throw as many number of tantrums as you want, he'll just find you amusing. If you want to cry, he might pretend to be slightly annoyed at first but he'll sigh softly as he wipes your tears with his thumb and then whisper in that husky voice of his in your ear to be good for him unless you want your loved ones to be safe. Sadistic MF 

You, of course won't know the reality of what he actually does and he prefers to keep it that way. What you don't know won't hurt you. Though he might be unhinged at times, he has his soft moments with you as well. He likes to hold you in his arms and press soft kisses to the nape of your neck and steal a few kisses on your lips every now and then. His kisses on your lips always leave you wanting for more and slightly gasping for air, he's that good lol. He just likes physical intimacy with you a lot. He might not be too expressive by words about his feelings of love for you but he believes that his actions are enough to make up for them. If anyone else touches his hair, he'd have broken their hand by now but if it's you, he'll have a soft smile on his face and pull you on his lap as he hums contentedly. It really HAS been a while since he's felt so happy and he couldn't have been more thankful since you came into his life 

He'll take you out for dates in fancy restaurants and spoil you with whatever your heart desires. Or if you want to have a quiet night in, that could be arranged too with you in his arms. I seriously pity the poor fool who tries to hurt you or steal you from him though. He will straight up TORTURE them with the way he fights. He loses complete self control when he fights, his mind is like a beast filled with pure unadulterated anger and rage as he breaks the bones of whatever schmuck dared to set their filthy eyes on you. Or he'll just kill them, not after banging their head to the wall over and over again and stomping on their face as he calmly smokes a cigarette (because MOOD) and he'll end up choking the person to death with one hand. After that's done, he'll grumble about how he's got blood on his suit but he's glad to go back home to be with you. Don't question the blood on his suit...just don't, for the sake of your sanity. He does get rather annoyed when they keep screaming for mercy though, he'll just smile at them in an unnerving manner and cut their tongue off to silence them 

Samuel adores you and loves you with all his twisted heart. Deep down he's still a bit insecure of himself. Don't even think of leaving him, it's a death wish. He'll just track your location in a few moments and he'll drag you back home. You'll end up being tied to his bed until you earn your freedom and his trust to move around again. Besides, you don't need to whine and complain so much, not when he's the one taking care of you. He's ready to do ANYTHING to ensure you stay by his side no matter what...

[cloudshuffle]

an arrow, a spark. yan!childe

index / next / beta reader @malewifeharem

When they assign you to a new division in the Fatui, you think nothing much of it. People were always being moved around in the organisation, people disappeared under mysterious circumstances, new recruits were popping up out of nowhere.

What was strange, however, was whose division you were assigned to. Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia, all the way in Liyue, no less - or Ajax, as you knew him better.

“I'll be sorry to see you go,” Signora says from behind you.

You jump, nearly dropping the stack of papers in your hands. She stands in the doorway, imposing as always, yet the air she gives off implies she's left off a “darling” at the end of her sentence.

Madame Signora's always been fond of you for reasons you've never known, though that often meant being stuck in dull, dull meetings and organising her paperwork for her.

You salute her, then laugh nervously. In the midst of your packing, your office looks like a hurricane hit it, stacks of books and papers scattered everywhere. Not the best look to put forward to your boss.

“So, Liyue.” She takes a step, placing her right inside the threshold of your office. Behind her, her new bodyguard slash secretary shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Quite a ways from home, yes?”

“It is.” The land of the Geo Archon, Morax, but most importantly his creation of mora. A warm place by far, considering Snezhnaya's standards, but its trade sector was coldly competitive.

“How do you feel about it?”

How did you feel? The question catches you by surprise, much like her appearance in your office. Never before had you been asked your personal opinion on anything before, least of all by a harbinger.

It’s just work.

“It’s a great opportunity to expand my horizons and learn about another culture, ma’am.”

She chuckles elegantly. “A textbook answer. Good. It’d be useful if you kept those same wits around Tartaglia.”

You blink, a cloud of dust distracting you briefly from what she’d just said. “...Tartaglia, ma’am?”

“Oh, yes.” Her red lips curve into a wry smile. “He requested for you specifically. He’s been pestering me, in fact, to let him have you.”

You remain silent, unsure of how to respond.

“But look at me, holding you up. I do hope you have fun while in Liyue - it can be quite the interesting place, after all.”

────────────

You don’t quite know what all the fuss about Tartaglia is about till lunch, when you venture into the mess hall with Nadia.

She doesn't even wait for the two of you to sit down before broaching the topic. “Did you know the eleventh is back is Snezhnaya?”

“He is?” You stab at your potatoes with your fork, eyeing her cheekily. “And I don't suppose you're in the market for a partner at the same time, are you?”

“Oh, not a harbinger.” She laughs. “That’s way too high profile for me.”

You eye the raised platform at the front of the hall where a long table’s been set. It’s more for show than anything else, seeing as how the harbingers have never once found themselves privy to dining with you common soldiers. There are twelve high-backed, intricately carved mahogany chairs, and one in the middle, larger than the rest, gilded with gold and complete with red velvet cushions. The Tsaritsa’s. Yet another reminder of who you all served.

Nadia's chatter washes over you like a soothing wave. You're grateful to have a friend when you go abroad, if only for distractions like this if nothing else.

She wants to marry and settle down already - a noble sentiment for a young Snezhnayan lady. You think any man would be lucky to have her.

For yourself, you're not so sure.

“Ooh!” She nudges you. “Don't look, but Vlad's over there. Isn't he cute?”

Against her wishes, you turn your head. He looks like any regular Snezhnayan man to you, blonde and with an angular face that could’ve been carved from the frozen earth itself. “Well, I guess. He looks kind.”

“And he's coming to Liyue too!” Nadia stage whispers.

“Exciting.” You raise an eyebrow.

You excuse yourself from your meal after a while, leaving the mess hall alone. Nadia's conversation was entertaining but exhausting, provided one could keep up with her endless stream of news and gossip from various sources.

But it's from this river of information that you sift out a tiny gold nugget: that Harbinger Tartaglia would be in the archery fields if he weren't busy preparing for his return to Liyue with his new crew.

Perhaps it's curiosity, or pure boredom that drives you outside into the cold.

The walk is familiar, ice crunching under your boots. It was admittedly difficult to walk on snow and ice - if you were anything but Snezhnayan, born and raised.

Your fingertips tingle with the phantom itch to hold a bow. It'd been a while…

You follow the path, rounding the building to a frozen field. A number of wooden targets and straw dummies are lined up, some in varying states of disrepair. A small hangover, an incline, really, provides minimal coverage against the wind like a very tiny rock against a great river.

As expected, there’s no one there. You feel a small sense of relief at having missed that chance encounter.

The new recruits train elsewhere. It’s a place only for those who want to exercise the muscles you rarely get to use, being cooped up in front of a desk all day.

You take up position at the edge of the field, summoning your bow and fixing three arrows to it.

They arc in a graceful, shining line, each landing perfectly in the middle of its respective target board.

You affix another arrow to the shelf, taking a deep breath. The world narrows to the point of your arrow and the fletching on the arrow you landed.

Dimly, you’re aware of the shuffling of feet behind you, quickly hushed. Probably just another of your fellow soldiers who wanted to get out of the noise of the mess hall. You pay them no mind.

You release the arrow, reload, release, reload. Three arrows land in rapid succession, splitting each of the previous arrows neatly down the shaft.

You exhale, and your senses return to you. The cold embraces you again, and you shake the tension out of your shoulders, putting your bow away. You can almost feel its sigh, already impatient for the next occasion it could perform.

Slow clapping. “An impressive show, soldier.”

You spin on your heel.

Tartaglia stands at the top of the incline, flanked by two bodyguards. As if he needed them within the walls of the Fatui stronghold, the youngest of all the harbingers, who single-handedly dug his fingers into the fabric of Liyue to get the Tsaritsa a foothold.

It’s been quite a while since you last saw him, you realise. He looks a little sharper, a little leaner, his gaze perhaps a little more complex, as if he were thinking of the future while simultaneously discerning all your secrets. The hydro vision on his belt winks at you in the cold light.

Standing on the incline, he looks like a conqueror, surveying his land. It's a good look for a harbinger to have.

“My lord.” You salute him smartly, tamping down your embarrassment at noticing them late. “My apologies for taking up your time.”

“Oh, no need for all that, padruga.” He comes down the slope, the bodyguards following a respectful distance behind. “It's always a delight to watch you in action.”

What had Madame Signora said? “He requested for you specifically”?

Ajax- no, Tartaglia, is a good head taller than you, maybe more. As he approaches, you have to incline your head to meet the unfamiliar gleam in his blue eyes. Whatever could he want from you?

“You've been well, I trust?” He summons his bow, and you take the cue to move a step backward, leaving him room to shoot.

“Well enough, may the Tsaritsa continue to watch over me.”

To your surprise, he snorts a laugh, loosing his arrow. It strikes deep into the wood, igniting a spark as it scrapes against yours. “A devotary? Some things certainly have changed around here.”

One of the bodyguards shifts his feet. You glance back at him, then at Tartaglia. “Is a harbinger not also subservient to her majesty?”

He chuckles. “Of course he is. I’m just… surprised.” Another arrow, another target. “You never struck me as the type to believe.”

You remain silent as the last arrow hits its mark. All just to the right of your own arrows, pressed so close they seem on the verge of falling off.

“Excellent marksmanship, my lord.” The impersonal compliment comes easily to your lips. You clasp your hands behind your back.

A gentle breeze begins to blow (the kind that might have killed a man in lesser clothing), unsettling his already unruly ginger hair. The bodyguards adjust their stances, as if roused by the cold wind.

“Certainly.” He grins, a self-assured smile, unhidden by a mask. You’re grateful for yours in that regard - no need to hide your emotions or expressions too well when all Fatui are shrouded in uniform secrecy. “Nothing but the best to serve her majesty.”

Somewhere deep within the halls, a bell begins to toll.

You snap to a salute. “Thank you for your time, my lord,” you say, as if he hadn’t been the one to seek you out for conversation first. “I must be taking my leave now.”

padruga: friend (female) according to google

— word count: 1598. thank you for reading!