#but it was seriously so disappointing and isolating
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perenlop · 8 months ago
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kinda insane how bigotry infects everything. i still dont feel good checking out the campus lgbt group despite being a senior now bc of the passive aggressive lesbophobia i got earlier
#like refusing to hand out lesbian pins and when we’d ask theyd kinda scoff and go ‘’why do you need it? just take the rainbow’’#(but ofc incorporating the blue flag asap)#not hosting any sapphic events for a while and ignoring our voices#refusing to put up our flag in the room and when they finally did it was half assed#i remember one time we had an event and the person hosting was like ‘’haha i can make custom badges!!’’#and there was a long line for lesbian badges. bc they had none. and the person was all flustered#like ‘’oh i didnt think thered be THAT many of you…. we dont have too many buttons sorryyyyyy’’#tbf it does seem like the lesbophobes graduated and whoever took their place has been better and got the pins in and has been better#but even in the groups they held there was just unchallenged lesbophobia like one girl constantly being passive aggressive#and mocking lesbians and saying ‘’i shouldnt be here bc im a filthy man liker ig. dont comfort me i know how you REALLY feel’’#and thats not even speaking towards how rude the previous leader was to me asking for an interview for the newspaper on discord#saying i shouldnt even have to bc ‘’people can just look up what ive done on the site so are you implying i didnt do enough?’’#which tbf i got an apology for but i was already dealing w anxiety and being iced out when id try to join in#like man i hope they keep trying to do better. do better for the ppl who come after me#but it was seriously so disappointing and isolating#echoed voice
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ftdino · 2 years ago
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i think it's a little odd that people of colour are consistently obligated to be patient and understanding when it comes to whitewashing. we are put in a position where we will be villainised if we don't react passively to this kind of harm. then, frequently, when we give people this patience and calmness while speaking to them, they don't take it seriously. they don't understand the extent to which it is harming us because we aren't allowed to show how much it affects us.
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bigcats-birds-and-books · 1 year ago
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Books of 2024: THE GIRL IN RED by Christina Henry.
We took a trip to Red River Gorge this weekend, and I both started and finished this book while we were there! It was a very speedy read.
While I did really enjoy the genre-savvy protag, I was expecting more Wolf Presence in a Little Red Riding Hood retelling, either literally or metaphorically (I mean, come on, look at that cover??). There were a couple references to (metaphorical) wolves and one coyote-man comparison early on (also metaphorical), but it felt like the Wolf Motif mostly was dropped, which was an Interesting Choice™, given that the plot entire was Red walking through an apocalypse and the forest to her grandmother's house. (Yes, she really goes by Red, which is not her name--she just really likes her red outerwear.)
This was also much more ongoing-apocalypse than post-apocalypse, and said apocalypse is referred to in-book as "the Cough" (publication date: June 2019?? wild). Family Units are endangered and fall sick on page, be warned! In addition to the Cough, there's also quite a bit of gore (via both brutal axe murders (self defense) and chest bursting a la Alien (which is the in-book comparison lol--see "genre-savvy protag")(admittedly this chest bursting subplot did feel very What The Hell Is This Fresh Bullshit, and not exactly cohesive with the rest of the story...not sure why that's in there lmao)).
Again: Quick read! Not super complicated or twisty, but it was a nice simple read after making it through THE BITCH QUEEN CHRONICLES, and I'm glad I read it for my own LRRH retelling reasons.
#books of 2024#book photography#my photography#the girl in red#christina henry#lrrh#forreal though i am SO GLAD i didn't try to start this one while my whole family actively had COVID lmaoooo#(we just got over it finally)#and it was perhaps not the BEST choice to take to an isolated cabin in the woods but i WAS right that the forest walks vibes were on point#SERIOUSLY WHERE WERE THE WOLVES#AT LEAST A WOLF!!#i really thought one character we met toward the end might be Wolfish but. he was just a genuinely nice guy#that was lowkey a disappointment ngl#also the Cough/crawler thing felt. out of place and unresolved.#like she (the author) could've picked ONE of those threads they weren't both necessary??#and then the chest bursting/crawler thing wasn't. resolved. at all??#like the protag even said in narration she was just gonna let it go not her business??? also disappointing.#(it also happened with like five pages left in the whole book so. not sure what else to expect)#the whole book was literally trying to get to grandma's but it wasn't a beat for beat fairy tale retelling#(mine is beat for beat. or it will be. when i get to revising.)#(but we both have fucked up post apocalyptic viral/bacterial end of world scenarios leading to our Reds so i thought maybe a good comp.)#(not actually a good comp besides vibes though.)#OH AND SASHA (mine) AND RED (henry's) ARE BOTH NARRATIVELY AWARE#like red knows genre stuff (horror movies and scifi and survivalist things)#but i want sasha to be aware that she's In The Fairy Tale but weirdly and meta about it. so there's SOME similarity but not quite the same.#i did not like how her whole family dies horrible deaths#(spoilers i suppose)#(but you know by the first chapter that she's alone so. is it a spoiler.)#anyway i have a surprising amount of thoughts about this actually so i guess it did something to my brain?? which is nice?? i guess?#easy prose and very predictable otherwise lol
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furiousgoldfish · 1 year ago
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Which ones of these arbitrary trauma-induced rules do you follow?
No spending money, ever. what if you need it later and your life depends on it.
Assume that all strangers are 3 seconds close to becoming hostile. fawn to keep them friendly.
No delegating tasks. no telling other people to do things you could potentially do yourself. what if they mess up.
Assume that everyone will consider you a burden if you do 1 single mistake that inconveniences them. do all that is possible to not make that mistake.
Do not admit when things are going wrong. wait until theres no other option but to ask for help, and even then consider not doing that.
Always act like you're okay. not doing so might make you seem 'not normal' and 'accused of being crazy and unstable'.
Do anything for friends, even if it sounds weird, dodgy, illegal. you want to prove that you're fun and easy going and helpful and useful and extremely cool with anything.
Never let it show if you're suspicious of someone. never say out loud that you think their intentions are bad. that might set them off.
If hurt, hide and isolate. Do not let anyone see you hurt.
Do not ask help for problems you feel are your own responsibility to solve. Even if you don't see yourself solving them successfully. If you can't do it, assume nobody can help you.
Help others to try and build positive relationships. Don't accept help so you don't end up relying on them for anything.
Do not start things that involve help or participation from other people. People are not reliable.
Assume that institutions, government, police, social services, and any kind of groups of people are all considering you a nuisance, and would attack you on sight, in every single situation. Never rely on them or assume they would do anything else.
No arguing, confronting, or standing up for yourself unless the situation is absolutely unsurvivable otherwise. Lay low until doing otherwise is seriously damaging your mental health and ability to live.
Give up on hopeful social encounters before they disappoint you. If you have to interact with people, assume the worst is about to happen.
No allowing yourself to idealize, or dream of positive future with people. It's a trap and your expectations need to be either extremely realistic or low.
Assume that fancy and expensive things don't exist for you. Despise them and get away from them.
No comparing yourself and your life to how other people live. It causes depression and despair. Other people's lives and standards of living are none of your business.
Do not showcase any skill or brag about any achievement. Jealous people can destroy you for satisfaction.
Assume people think the worst of you and don't consider changing their mind. Just try to keep out of their way.
Do not display anger. You don't want to be called insane or get arrested. You don't know what people could potentially blame you for if you're openly angry. But other angry people are dangerous and you need to get away from them.
If you follow more than half of these, you have a trauma-induced problem. These are not normal or healthy. These are not developed in a healthy environment. These are extremely self-protective, isolating, ruled by terror of the world and the people living in it. If you follow these, something bad has been done to you.
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brionysea · 5 months ago
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when it comes to the umbrella academy, a lot of people seem to think that the first half is great and the second half is terrible. personally, I think only the first *season* is great, or even good. here's why:
the mission statement at the end of season 1 is fixing viktor, but viktor isn't the only broken one, so you can infer that they're all going to have to fix *each other* - as a family, the one thing their abuser never let them be. and the world's burning down around them because of the most dramatic sibling confrontation to ever grace the earth, but they're holding hands and escaping together and surviving the impossible with the intent to move forward, even if that means momentarily moving backwards. it's a masterful allegory for finally growing up, accepting responsibility for your personal trauma and tragedy and how they shaped you, and the moment you take that power back by choosing to heal your inner child, only after being slapped in the face with the fact that if you don't, it *will* destroy everything you've ever built, ever cared about, and ever could.
and then the rest of the show forgets all of it. as it were, it goes in the *exact opposite direction.*
on the surface, the second season isn't *as* bad as the subsequent ones are. but season 3 and 4's faults can be traced back to season 2 by how it pivoted away from the serious subject matter that the story (not the plot - the *story*) was heavily baked in, leaning hard into the goofier elements instead, without ever understanding the contrast that those conflicting elements served to highlight. it made them both more powerful; the jokes were funnier because you were just devastated, and the trauma was more devastating because you were just in tears laughing. the emotional roller coaster is key to understanding these people, and you *have* to take the serious stuff seriously for it to work. at least half of the show doesn't, and as a result, the emotional moments feel hollow.
controversial opinion: as a character, luther is better in season 1 than he is anywhere else. he's more unlikable, but that's because he's implicitly there to show what *not* to do - even if he'd succeeded narratively by locking viktor up and saving the world, he still failed thematically by emulating their father and continuing the cycle of abuse - so luther's a character that's being very effectively used to add to the core theme of the story. he feels like a real, frustrating person, whose brain chemistry got messed up by years of abuse and isolation, all for the crime of thinking his father loved him and wanted the best for him. not like a made up guy on your screen doing silly stuff solely for your entertainment.
season 2 was also the start of the characters getting love interests instead of storylines, which season 1 never would have *dreamed* of; klaus and dave's tragic romance only served to further klaus's character arc, viktor's creepy boyfriend was actually manipulating him the whole time, five's fractured-psyche-mannequin was a narrative tool to let us see into the head of such an emotionally reticent character, and so on. the romance served the character, but fairly quickly into the show's progression, it felt like the character started serving the romance. five was immune to this curse for a long time due to aidan gallagher's age, which is why he's (for the most part) the best, most consistent character across the show, because they had to use their *imagination* for him and actually *write an arc* instead of falling back on tired romance tropes that any selection of characters could slot into to fill the dead space.
after season 1, the umbrella academy is entertaining, but it doesn't have anything to *say.* which is extremely disappointing when the show initially made such a strong case for what it wanted to be.
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loveemagicpeace · 1 year ago
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🎸Mars Energy🎸
⚡️Mars is a powerful figure in mythology. Mars on me represents the principle factor, the energy we need to make us encourages to action. It gets us out of bed every morning and helps us achieve our goals throughout the day. It is also our representation of masculinity, as Venus is our representation of femininity. Both men and women need a well-functioning Mars to feel that we are powerful and that we have life in our hands. Mars needs challenges, and not just in battle or dispute, but also in physical activities, such as competitive games and sports or any field, at with which we can flex our muscles and compete with others to win. Like Venus, Mars is also associated with the sexual attraction and sexual relations, and both planets they reveal us approach to sexuality and courtship. In this, Mars especially delights in pursuit and conquest.
⚡️Unlike Venus, it is not relationship-oriented and can lose interest as soon as it conquers an object/person. Unless he runs into competitors then he starts fighting. The energy of Mars indicates how we behave and react. How we compete, how we win someone over and what our charm is. Mars shows how we keep our vibrancy and energy alive. The position of Mars in the chart shows our way of pursuing (the object & person we want). Mars is an indicator of what kind of men, and Venus, what kind of women we get involved with. Although many times relationships are influenced by both.
Mars is known for its lust for dominance, but it can be overbearing and tempting to impose one's will on others. Mars represents our primal passions, inclusive with anger. But Mars can also get you in trouble sometimes. It is important to release our anger. This is very important for our health, because we can get seriously ill if we suppress these energies. Suppressing anger is a matter of course associated with health problems such as stress and depression. The ability to exercise our will and achieve what we want is a talent in itself that we have to learn. After a period of learning from mistakes we start in our thirties and forties after we tend to use Mars more skillfully to our advantage.
🎡Aries Mars is particularly monotonous, spontaneous and quick to act according to his will. It can also catch fire spontaneously,and explosive moments are followed by calm ones, because anger usually does not last long. You have a fiery and strong approach to your desires. Usually when you want something you want to get it by any means. When it comes to competition, you are very competitive and forget about others. You put more emphasis on physical pleasure.
🦋Scorpio Mars has a strong will, but he has more control over the planning and execution of his actions, so he is more precise and efficient. Mars in Scorpio is usually expressed with the words and emotions, and less with fighting. Sexual expression is important for both signs, but Mars in Scorpio loves more emotionally. When it comes to love, he becomes very self-sacrificing. He will do anything for the person he loves. But when he is deceived, he can become your worst enemy. He is intense, passionate, combative and persistent, but his energy only shows when he really feels someone.
🧁Mars in mutable watery Pisces will be rather gentle and passive and will find it difficult to express itself decisively. He may hold back his anger so as not to upset others, and he may act less directly, he may even act like a victim to make others feel guilty and let us get our way. But many times you can make emotional sacrifices for other people or give them too much and then you are disappointed. Mars in Pisces is at its best when alone. You can isolate yourself a lot from other people.
🥨Mars in an earth sign, such as fixed Taurus, can be very calm and slow to respond, but with slow and patient steps he advances towards what he wants. Like a bull, it can be charged with enormous energy and charge at an attacker when angered or threatened. Mars in Taurus can also be very passionate and lustful, which makes him an emperor an exquisite and extremely patient lover.
✨Capricorn mars tends to be very competitive when it comes to business, success, money, reputation. You will want to achieve the biggest and be the best. When it comes to love, they can be quite cold sometimes. Many times they can put the business before the person. Their anger is usually not expressed, many times they keep it inside. Their nature is not so much focused on several things but on only one. It's the same in love - you like to invest in someone who seems stable and worth your time. They are not people who like to go on dates.
☁️Cancer Mars they have a very emotional response to things around them. You can hurt them quickly. They like to invest their time in their family, people close to them. They don't like average relationships. Many times their energy is emotional. Their anger is responsive in many ways but can also change quickly. They are a sign that can quickly forgive (even if it doesn't seem like it at first). They love stalking people. And when they want something, they will go anywhere to get it. They can do some pretty crazy stuff.
🥤Virgo Mars show practicality, decision-making and thinking. They know how to work hard for what they want if their desire is very strong. They put a lot of emphasis on hygiene, health, routine and lifestyle. They tend to dislike people who smoke or have strange habits. Many times they notice little things in people. They devote a lot of energy to staying in good health, but that's precisely why they can get sick. Because they can deal with it too much.
🥊Sagittarius Mars their energy is manifested through the will to live. They are the people who will always make you smile and make you feel that there is only one life and you can make the most of it. Spontaneous people and many times make an impulsive decision, which many times turns out to be good. They laugh a lot and are optimistic. They give a lot of energy to travel, spirituality, playfulness, learning, new things. Their approach is often optimistic, although they can have a lot of anger behind it. However, since this is a fiery sign, they can be impulsive, react violently, directly, rudely. They are tough opponents and when they set a goal they will achieve it. They can be very competitive when it comes to something they are passionate about. Or when it comes to a person who means a lot to them. They are not afraid to confront people and will always want quick actions and reactions. They almost never get sick, but that's because they are optimists.
🪂Leo Mars their energy is manifested through a passion for playfulness, childhood, fun. They put a lot of effort into having fun and enjoying the things they love. They have many hobbies. They can be possessive and jealous, but they won't show it right away. A lot depends on the energy they want to feel with the person. When they notice that the person they want has fans, they will become even more competitive. They will be most competitive in sports or love. Many times they will want to conquer you with their dominance. They are not afraid of challenges and will step into them without fear if they are mature enough. They are fighting and persistent in themselves. Actions count for them.
🎢Gemini Mars their energy is very mutable. They are all over the place most of their time. And they need a lot of change but they are most good with words than actions. They will talk much more than actually do. They can be very unstable and change their mind many times. They will often compete when it comes to verbal duels. Even at school, they know how to compete. Their health fluctuates because they can become quite anxious at times or think too much about things they cannot change. They can seduce you with mind games.
🫧Libra Mars their energy usually shows through the relationships but can be different kind of relationship it doesn't meant to be like romantic relationship. It can be friendships. If they are not in a relationship, they can give a lot of their energy to their friends. Their anger is usually passive aggressive. They often avoid conflicts because they like peace. Their passive aggressive behavior can lead to them getting sick (because they keep too much anger inside). It is good for them to express their feelings and anger as much as possible.
⛸️Aquarius Mars their energy is focused on humanitarian matters (they like to help others), dreams, goals, social networks. They like to do the things they like. They also like to be alone. They have rebellious kind of anger so they will fight for the rights or people they love or things that are connected to them. But they are not people who fight about I don't know some random stuff. They have the unique way how to seduce people and it's always different. They can also seduce you with their uniqueness or something about that is so different and this is why people are attracted to them somehow. They can work a lot on staying in shape and following themselves. Because they can get sick unexpectedly. Many times the diseases are very strange.
🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸
-Rebekah🍸🎸🧁
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bluemari23 · 7 months ago
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dazzling light || kim hongjoong
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summary: your soul bond activates at a concert and you seriously doubt your actually going to be able to meet them, not when they are on the stage and more than likely can't see the soul light that surrounds you.
pairing: kim hongjoong x autistic reader
genre: soulmates, soul bonds, soul marks, fluff, some light angst
warnings: autistic reader, overstimulation, some slight panic,
word count: 1.5k
masterlist
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Despite your love for music, sometimes it could be too loud. Your ears ringing and sometimes you swore your brain actually shakes in your skull. The way you listened to music almost every second of the day was a surprise to some people, seeing as you were easily overstimulated and when too many things were happening at once, you used your noise canceling headphones for peace. 
You thought that a concert would be an isolated incident; Somewhere where you could only focus on the music and not on anything else. Where you could just feel the music and let your body sway to the rhythm. 
Finding out you had a soulmate at a concert was not on your plan for the night. 
And looking down at your wrist to see the gold letters building the name of your bias was also not on your plan for the night. 
For soulmates, soul bonds only activate when you are in the same room, gold letters representing the soul spell out the name of your soulmate. A gold light also surrounds the people within the bond so you could find your other half easier. 
But you knew who your other half was, and you doubted they could see you from the stage. 
You were seated near the front of the stage, a front row seat in the first part of the seated section. You had felt beyond lucky to get the seat, knowing how quickly the seats go and how easily the concerts sell out tickets. Now, you wonder if it was fate bringing you here. 
You anxiously sat, waiting for some kind of sign that he also sees you. But Hongjoong seemed to look almost everywhere but where you were seated. That was until he glanced at your section during Guerilla and seemed to do an obvious double glance. Everyone around you was screaming, thinking that he was looking at them, but you know differently. 
But then he didn’t look your way again. 
You couldn’t help but to think, maybe he doesn’t want a soulmate?
Did he see your soul light?
He probably isn’t interested in having a soulmate. Another person to depend on. It’s probably for the best anyways, with your disability anyways. You couldn’t always control your brain or the way your body took in stimuli. 
Seeing reason, you tried to just enjoy the rest of the concert, listening to Answer and then Crazy Form, which was one of your favorites. You followed the crowd and moved your light stick along with them. You even got up and danced for as long as you could handle. 
When the concert ended, though, you couldn’t help but to wait a couple minutes. You told yourself it was because you couldn’t handle the crowds trying to leave the stadium at the same time, but you knew it was because you hoped that he did want you, even the tiniest bit. 
After waiting about ten minutes, you gave up hope and started to grab your things. It was disappointing, but nothing you weren’t used to. Being a burden was unfortunately something you felt a lot, and this was nothing different. 
After grabbing your things, you began to make your way down the small walkway that led to the inner hallways of the stadium, out into the main concession area. You pass through the entryway only to bump into a large man in a stadium uniform. 
“Are you Ms. Y/n L/n?” The large man was imposing and his voice was deep and intimidating, making you hesitate for a couple of seconds before nodding your head, not wanting any trouble. 
“We’ll need you to come with us then.” You heard another voice, and someone pushed past the large and intimidating man to stand in front of you. 
This man was shorter, but still nonetheless intimidating. He wore a stern expression and his glasses reminded you of an old professor you had in college who loved to yell and throw things across the classroom when someone was talking during his lecture. It was safe to say you were now shaking in your shoes. 
The ma wore no indication of his position with regards to the stadium, and you were thoroughly confused now to what could be going on. 
“Is there something wrong, Sirs?” Your voice was weaker than you wanted to push out, showing how uncomfortable you were. 
The men just turned around and started walking, not even looking to see if you were following. But you did, entirely scared and uncomfortable and feeling entirely intimidated to do anything but what the men say. 
You followed them through a different hallway, one with the words “CREW ONLY” plastered to the front. You now went from being scared to freaked out. Your thoughts were going a hundred miles an hour until you ended up in front of a set of double doors that had the word “ATEEZ” printed on a sheet of paper and taped to the right-side door. 
Now, now you were completely frozen.
You swear your heart actually stopped. 
“Please.” The short man gestured you forward, knocking on the door for you without giving you a second to move. 
Before you could catch your breath, someone opened the door, a casual smile on their lips and a baggy but comfortable looking t-shirt with the new Ateez designs on it. You assumed this was one of the managers as he shook the smaller man’s hand and thanked them for bringing you here. 
“Hello, you must be Ms. Y/n?” The man then turned to look at you, his bright eyes centered on you and then your wrist where Hongjoong’s name resided in gold ink.
You just stared at the man, your obvious nerves showcased on your face, still completely frozen as you look up at him. 
“Please, don’t be nervous. Hongjoong is actually excited that we were able to find you still here and might actually start freaking out if we leave him in there with Wooyoung and Jongho’s teasing any longer.” The man cracks another warm-hearted smile at you before holding his hand out for you to take, a nice gesture. 
“How about we go and introduce you to your soulmate, hm?” The man, who still didn’t introduce himself moved behind you, hand hovering against your back as he opens the door again, the noise from inside becoming completely silent as you slowly moved inside. 
You saw Hongjoong first, his eyes catching yours as a large smile grows on his lips, his cheeks pushed wide as he does so. You then catch Wooyoung actually hanging off of the captain, Seonghwa trying and failing to get him off until you appear, both men slowly moving away from their leader. 
The soul light slowly dims until its gone when you are now only a couple feet apart. You could feel your body slowly relaxing as you got closer to your soulmate, something you’ve never felt before. Relaxation and peace were always hard to come by when your body always seemed to take in more stimuli that you could handle.
But you felt at ease, now an arm’s length away from the person you were destined for. 
“Hello. It’s nice to meet you.” Hongjoong spoke softly as if not wanting to break the moment between you. 
“Hi.” You smile a little, wanting to show him that you were okay, that you were okay with everything. 
“Why don’t we sit, get to know each other better.” He asked you, motioning to the now vacant couch behind you, big enough for the two of you. You also noticed the sneaky glances that the other Ateez members sent each other. 
“Okay.” You smiled at the boys as you passed by them, each of them introducing themselves to you as if you didn’t just attend their concert. 
You sat down, and before Hongjoong could pick another place to sit, every single other spot than the one beside you was taken by the boys. Hongjoong just took it in stride, sitting beside you as he dramatically shakes his head and sighs at his members actions. You couldn’t help but to let out a little laugh at their actions, trying to play matchmaker between soulmates. 
It was as if they all started speaking at once, the younger members just yelling out questions for you as you sat next to Hongjoong, Seonghwa trying but failing to reign them in, even if it was a half-hearted attempt at doing so. 
You didn’t even attempt to answer, seeing as you couldn’t distinguish a single question. Instead, you just took the hand that your soulmate offered you, shyly holding it in your grasp. 
“They’re always like this. I promise, they like you already.” Hongjoong leans down and whispers into your ear. You could hear the smile and adoration in his voice, something that made you smile again. 
“It’s okay. I can get used to it. I promise, I like them too.” You whisper back, looking up at him and watching as the look of adoration switches from his members to you. 
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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year ago
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what about…
yandere ghost dad with reader who’s going on a bad path?
like hanging around delinquents, smoking and drinking at a young age or even doing drugs
i have a feeling he’d lock them up and throw away the key 😭
— Yandere Dad-Ghost with his gn kid, going down the ‘bad path’
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Warnings: yandere behavior, everything Platonic, talks about smoking, drugs (and pot), alcohol, and isolation.
A/N: How do y’all come up with these good ideas?? I loved doing this, enjoy bby <3!
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Simon would be worried about you, first and foremost. But also extremely disappointed; the dangerous stunts you do, especially with the wrong type of people, make his paranoia 10 times worse. 
When he had caught you smoking, either weed or tobacco, he was angry; instantly grabbing it from your hands, throwing it to the floor as he snapped at you. He had made a promise to himself — ensuring that you'd never turn into anything bad. And now, seeing you waste your teenage years with drinking alcohol, and potential drugs makes his stomach sick. 
Despite it being your first, or multiple times of doing your ‘rebel shit’, Simon is taking your health, and safety seriously; strictly warning you for the first and last time with a look of sheer disappointment and anger: “I don’t want to see that shit again–  y’know the rules of this house. D’ya understand me? Repeat it back.”
Simon thought you’d understand. You were a kid, still experiencing life. Finding who you are. You’ll be fine, as long as you follow his rules. But, when on a lazy Saturday, getting a call from 911 past midnight — saying you were arrested, obviously intoxicated, and smelling like weed? His impatience snapped like a rubber-band. 
In the end, yes, your beloved father would lock the key and throw it out; keeping you isolated in the house, with just him, where he can watch you. You can be mad at him, throw things at him. Hell, even say you hate him. But at the end of the day, it’s for your protection. 
Everything in the house is extra supervised — your internet, and screen-time is watched 24/7. Life360 is added onto your phone. The door to your room is removed, and covered with a thick blanket. The bathroom breaks are irritating, because if you’re in there for more than 10 minutes, he’s knocking and demanding to be let in.
And let’s not forget where he turns you to online schooling within a day or so. Making sure to get rid of those sick friends of yours, but you’ll never know what happens to them because the contact with them is cut. 
Make no mistake, Simon doesn’t like taking your free-will, he wants you to act and be like a teenager. And it is something he didn’t get to do when he was younger. 
But… he loves you, and if it’s what he has to do, then so be it.
Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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sunkissedchld · 1 year ago
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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃
𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓
the piles go from top left to right. so, african violet is pile i, pastel lilac is pile ii, and so on and so forth.
take the time to close your eyes, breathe, and meditate on the PAC prompt, then open your eyes and let your guides lead you to the pile for you. i hope you enjoy, and please let me know if it resonates with you! my ask box is open [even to anonnies]).
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈
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Shufflemancy:
"Deep" by Big Sean (feat. Lil Wayne)
"Black Cat Nero" by Ateez
"Everlasting Love" by Fifth Harmony
"Neighbors" by J. Cole
Signs:
"this is my last straw"; "i can't do this anymore"; "why do people think this about me?"; "what did i even do?"; "so much for that"; someone with light hair (ie. strawberry blonde, honey blonde, could be bleached recently); someone who is a social butterfly or around social butterflies usually; screen time; movies; tall (in height or in thoughts and beliefs); nurturer; green; you could be drawn to my profile picture and page because of the green
Reading:
the people choosing this pile are looking for hope during a time where they feel very anxious and possibly even lonely. you might feel as if you've been struggling and fighting for a long time and don't feel that you can go on any longer. although you feel this way, your harsh truth is that you have to keep going and fighting until the bitter end. no one else can help you complete this breakthrough and gain the self-confidence and skill that will be learned from this treacherous time. other people can't take on this burden for you - it has to be done by you.
you're meant to feel isolated right now because old bonds are being broken and disintegrated while new ones are being crafted. you likely feel like you're going through a bad luck period; you might feel disillusioned with life and disappointed. one way you can overcome this is by no longer looking back on the past and worrying about what would've or should've been. all of that has already been done and whatever has happened can't be taken back. now is the time to take actions towards a new future and seek your own truth for the present moment rather than dwelling on the past. that's when your luck will renew.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈
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Shufflemancy:
"Superstar" by Shinee
"Destruction" by Piri (feat. Kold-Blooded)
"Hold On" by H.E.R
"Out Of Control" by The Boyz
Signs:
"i wanna be free"; "don't take me for granted"; "i'm only hurting me"; "perfect control"; "he left us all behind"; "you promised"; air signs (gemini, libra, aquarius); relationship problems; "what happened to the plan we had"; monolingual; someone in the field of science and technology; astronomy; planter/green thumb; non-committal; someone is cheating; "whoopsie"; petite/small (could be thoughts or physical size)
Reading:
there's a lot of anger in the people that chose this pile. you might naturally be generous towards others and be the type of person to give your last when you have none. you gain a lot from being this generous and helpful towards others. one harsh truth you need to hear is that everyone isn't your friend, so stop continuing to be overly helpful when people have shown their intentions towards you. you're not obligated to save and help everyone you come across. stop following in the footsteps of tradition and allowing people to take your kindness for granted.
at this current point in time, someone is manipulating you because you're allowing them to. you know that they are because you've recently started feeling more upset than usual - that's because your inner and higher self know that you're downplaying your worth and allowing yourself to be walked all over. it's time to break the precedent you've set and create a new one. when you allow this anger to be heard and seen, people will recognize it and you will begin feeling at peace again. make the decision and follow through with actions to show your seriousness and relieve yourself of the anger you feel before it hardens and turns into greed and a lack of willingness to help others at any point.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈
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Shufflemancy:
"Bills, Bills, Bills" by Destiny's Child
"Mo Money (Interlude)" by J. Cole
"Who Says" by Selena Gomez
"You Don't Know Me" by Ariana Grande
Signs:
"i wouldn't wanna be anybody else"; "i'm sure you've got some things you'd like to change about yourself"; "you don't know where i've been"; "you think you know, but you have no idea"; "they don't understand"; someone is science and technology; someone planning on changing the future of society; someone with a heart for humanity; empath; self employment; seemingly no direction; spontaneity; "just winging it tbh"; 30s; medium or dark hair (ie. black, jet black, raven black)
Reading:
first, if you also felt drawn to pile i go read it first. pile i and you have similar topics in that both of you currently feel insecure and might even be feeling like you have imposter syndrome. you're thinking "am i even good enough to do what it is i'm being told to"? "why do people view me in this way when i'm nothing like that?". despite this, there's also a little voice in your head and/or heart that gives you hope and is giving you insight from afar even if you feel it's hard to interpret or understand. your harsh truth is that your anxiety and shortsightedness is what's holding you back from seeing the light. you need to have confidence in yourself because without it you will falter and never feel good enough. other people's compliments and encouragement will mean nothing until you give them to yourself.
this may come as a surprise to some of you - fame and recognition is in your future, but you know the idea of "you never know what's happening behind closed doors"? when you receive this limelight, you will never feel satisfied with what you're doing and your accomplishments until you praise yourself for what you've done. the most meaningful gifts and compliments must come from yourself or else all the others are just words and material things. you can't allow self-pity and depression allow you to not see yourself for the gem and unique person you are. you deserve to see the beauty in yourself. freeing yourself from needing others' compliments and instead giving them to yourself will free you from your current stress.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕
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Shufflemancy:
"No Scrubs" by TLC
"Blow The Whistle" by Too Short
"Run" by Otis Kane
"pride.is.the.devil" by J. Cole (feat. Lil Baby)
Signs:
"pride is the devil.. i think it got a hold on me"; "pride is the reason for the dichotomy"; "stop"; "i get breathless"; screen time/movies; work; social butterfly; little miss/mister perfect; "everything i touch turns to gold"; sexual frustration/release; not self employed; working for a big company; striving for recognition and overwhelming success; medium or dark hair (ie. brown, brunette, mousy brown); skillful; jack of all trades; (former) procrastinator; "one less problem"; "this is the come up"
Reading:
the people choosing this pile are hard workers willing to do anything in order to achieve their wants and dreams. you have a strong willpower and mind set that enables you to be successful often. you'll continue to work until you're on your last leg and suffering both mentally and physically. you don't allow others to help you even when you need it. your harsh truth is that you're so oblivious it hurts. you need to re-evaluate what you're doing and the track you're heading down as a result of your actions and instincts. you're leading yourself down a path where plans will get canceled either because of event issues or because of personal health issues. you know the saying "if you don't take a break your body will force you to take one"? that's the path you're currently working towards. this will eventually lead you to feelings of gloom and self-doubt. you'll think that this path isn't for you or your beliefs are wrong when in reality, you're just working too hard. you are on the right path, but even those following the correct way need breaks.
remember to look for and enjoy the little parts of life. if you're so focused on meeting the next goal/the next finish line, then you'll never appreciate it when you meet the one you were striving for last time. you'll always be on the search for the next best thing, and you'll end up never being satisfied which would be unfortunate because blessings and luck are intrinsically linked to you. do all things in moderation and change the current way you view your reaching of goals in order to have true satisfaction.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕
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Shufflemancy:
"Jealous" by Kehlani feat. Lexii Alijai
"Superstar" by Shinee
"My Name Is" by Eminem
"Attention" by Charlie Puth
Signs:
12:11; "i can't just invest in shit"; "i see right through it"; "if this is the way it is, don't even put me through it"; "you just want attention"; "i know that dress is karma, perfume regret"; sexual expriences/first time; intelligence; mystery; hidden enemies; hidden intentions; science and technology; computer science; tall (in height); skillful; high position; travel and adventure; air sign (libra, gemini, aquarius); "i suck at letting go"; age gap; "die a little bit"; "i wanna be prepared; just in case"; "come my way"
Reading:
so many many messages came out for this pile, so you could be the most confused about your current life situation, or you're being oblivious to signs being sent to you. you're naturally in tune with the divine feminine, your emotions, and your intuition. you're such an original with rich skill and the resources to succeed (even if you don't feel you do). new beginnings are at the tip of your future, and you're staring at them in awe, but the inner feelings you harbor towards prior experiences that have turned sour keeps them from reaching you like you expect. it's like you want revenge against those that have wronged you. by the way, if you were drawn to pile ii, please go read it! i feel that some people overlap between that pile and this one. your harsh truth aligns with theirs in that you can't let prior experiences sour your future.
as of now, your bitterness and craving for revenge is leading you to be lethargic and experience delays. you might even feel frustrated because, again, you can see new beginnings and blessings in sight but they're being kept away from you. they will continue to be out of reach until you allow karma to do its work on its own and not influence the outcome. this is going to be hard to understand, but you need to learn to forgive whoever hurt you; this doesn't mean you have to be friends with them or be totally enthusiastic when thinking about them, but you need to at least allow yourself to be indifferent towards them. like i said before, you need to allow karma and the universe to do the work of allowing them to reap what they've sown. you need to forgive in order to heal. after you do that, you will feel so secure and see the blessings you've been eyeing plop directly into your lap. a new found love and connection will likely present itself afterwards also.
this is your Tower moment in that you need to remove your prior foundation and buildings in order to create something grander and more fit for you rather than for others who have pressured or influenced you to do something different. this pettiness is not of you, so don't allow it to consume you. allow optimism and passion for something new to fill you and leave behind what brings about depression and anger. listen to your intuition and think over the dreams your guides have sent you. it's time for you to heal and go on new journeys rather than wallowing in despair.
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐈
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Shufflemancy:
"Dancing Like Butterfly Wings" by Ateez
"no tears left to cry (live)" by Ariana Grande
"No Friends In The Industry" by Drake
"make up (live)" by Ariana Grande
Signs:
"i wanna be in the gold of time"; "highlight of my life"; "i love it when we make up"; "it's a mood; it's a vibe"; 20s; quiet time; introvert; culinary arts; foodie; performing arts; artistic kid; earth sign (taurus, virgo, capricorn); narcissism; medium or dark hair (ie. black, brown); tan complexion; spring break; vacations/traveling; study abroad; ariana grande stan
Reading:
this pile has been feeling nostalgic recently. you miss your childhood, don't you? you miss the feelings of not being worried, of being free of adult responsibilities and stressors. you miss when your biggest worry was whether or not your friend would be at school so you two could play together. you might be in high school or college as of now and although you're experiencing some successes, something is missing. you feel as if you need to go through a rebirth phase; you need something or someone new and exciting to come in and give you a shock. you're daydreaming of this a ton to the point where it might even be messing up your study schedule or something of the sort. you could be separating from your childhood friends and that's also partially why you feel nostalgic.
your harsh truth is that a whole new community of people and friends are waiting on you and willing to give you the new and exciting life you're looking for, but you're avoiding or ignoring them. you might not even know them personally yet, but your daydreaming on old friendships keeps you from opening up to others. maybe your shyness gets the best of you? or you worry if old bad habits will pop up and ruin everything, but you need to slowly but surely put yourself out there. do everything in moderation and at your own pace. be willing to be uncomfortable in order to experience what you daydream about. create new foundations in order to become the next version of yourself.
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ellesthots · 1 month ago
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Fateful Beginnings
XXXIX. “why, why, why?”
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parts: previous / next
plot: there’s just something about Bruce that clicks into place, whether you like it or not.
pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader
cw: 18+, blood, melancholy, tension
words: 7.4k
a/n: some things are bubbling over !! 🤭 ahh this is such a critical chapter !! as always, i adore knowing what you think !! any and all reactions, i will ecstatically receive them <3
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A scream ripped apart your throat, your hands thrashing around your head to knock the gun away. Too terrified to open your eyes, you crunched your body inward, covering your ears with your palms and praying it would be over soon. Hot tears streamed thick off your cheeks, and you couldn’t take in a full breath. Soft vibrations shook your bed, and you heard a hinge creak. 
Thank god, Bruce. Your shaky hands fell to your sides and you sniffed, your eyes swollen with tears shed while you’d slept. It would be over soon.
Your dad stood in the doorway, panicked. “What’s going on?”
Too disappointed to procure an explanation, you hung your head, and worked to find your breath. He joined you at the edge of your bed, slowly rubbing your back. It was disorienting smelling your dad’s classic Old Spice deodorant he always wore, having been prepared to be embraced by the scent of gentle detergent and spicy body wash. Your body finally convinced it wasn’t dying nor getting comforted by Bruce Wayne, you fell back against the pillow. “Just a nightmare.”
“I need to tell your mother you’re okay, but I’ll be back.” He moved to get up but you called after him, weakly. “I want to go back to sleep, it’s fine.”
He stalled in the doorway, his graying hair framing his frown. “Never heard you scream like that, hon.” 
“Seriously, it’s fine. I want to sleep.”
“I’ll check on you later.”
“Okay.”
You rolled over in bed so your face was covered, almost hoping you’d suffocate. You willed yourself back to sleep, desperate to escape the disappointment that was slapping against your skin like sand knowing Bruce wasn’t there to hug you. How much more pathetic could you get, idolizing guilt-fueled hugs while lonely in your childhood bedroom? Nothing could convince you he didn’t regret them.
And nothing else would convince you to sleep, either. You’d pretended to snore when you heard your door opening an hour later, successfully tricking your dad into being peacefully asleep. You hated to worry him, hated to worry Bruce, hated that Miller had gotten you trapped in an alley in the first place. Everything hurt. The night felt wide, big, and lonely, and even that thought was a poor pill to swallow. You weren’t alone, but you probably would be soon. Your parents sat in the room next door, alive, and yet you couldn’t feel more isolated. 
You pulled the blanket around you, the sensation of Bruce’s arms wrapping round yours temporarily abating the flashbacks, but creating the most visceral sadness you’d felt in ages. A hollowness you’d felt so many times before, but never hitting so hard. His arms had been so wide, warm, and strong… while you wanted to sit in the sadness of knowing you’d never feel them again, you didn’t let yourself. You weren’t deserving of him holding you. 
But you wrapped the blanket tighter, squeezing your eyes and biting your tongue against the ravenous guilt as your head sunk deeper into the imaginary valley of his hugs. Your breathing slowed and your eyelids fluttered shut without effort as you reminisced on the rumble of his chest when you’d apologized, the stillness of the night around you, and the all-encompassing, deep-seated sense of safety that had surrounded you then. You sobbed yourself to sleep, but the nightmares were gone. 
The next morning you woke up to your mom’s gentle request to accompany her to the grocery. Not wanting to cause further distress, you tugged some sweats on and followed her to the kitchen for breakfast. Your eyes lingered on the copy of the Gazette your parents had somehow gotten their hands on, where your interview was front and center. On Bruce Wayne: Personal Reflections and a Promise to Gotham. You didn’t appreciate how difficult it was to tear your eyes away from it, grab the keys, and walk out the door.
Hoping you wouldn’t run into any of the trio had proved fruitful. You helped your mom grab some fruits, veggies, pasta, and snacks, still not used to pushing her wheelchair in front of you. Still not used to her being sick. Still hoping she didn’t get the placebo. Still hoping it would all work out. 
In the midst of checking out, your phone buzzed. Dr. Crane. Your mother waved you off, mouthing that she could finish, and you wandered to the freezer section before picking up. Though he’d been consistent, you still hadn’t gotten in the rhythm of anticipating his phone calls. Like a broken record, he asked you how Bruce seemed at the meeting, and the rally, his tone harsher with each interaction. 
“He seemed fine. A bit more distant, but fine.” 
“Not good. If he shows up Tuesday, ask him how he’s holding up. Call me no later than the next day, do you understand?” 
“Yes. I’m sorry for not being more forthright, it’s been such a whirlwind,”
“Would you give these excuses if he ends up dead?”
You almost dropped your phone, your mouth flying open at his frankness. Quickly, so as not to disturb the mother with three energetic children dancing around the Kid Cuisine, you rushed out of the aisle, stumbled through the rest of the call, and assured him you’d call Wednesday afternoon with an update. He ended the call with another reminder of how dire the situation remained, in a tone that made it seem like everything was your fault. Maybe it was.
You were numb through the rest of the weekend, routinely driving your mom to her appointment, sitting with her for her shot, driving her home, then going on walks through the neighborhood. You followed that pattern through the weekend. It passed without dwelling, without happiness or distress. The leaves were just starting to fall from the dense-leaved branches swaying in the wind. Life was kinder here, gentler, but it didn’t soothe you. 
Looking at the tree in your yard at the end of the breezy Sunday walk was the first time you came back into your body. Under the tree was patchy green grass, but you overlaid it with an imaginary pile of leaves from the photo you’d shown Bruce. Your heart compressed remembering the crossed line, and the very real possibility of no more one-on-ones with him. The wind blew your hair into your face, and your mom asked for help up the stairs. You felt neither here nor there, stuck between two cities, and two very different lives. For the first time you almost missed Gotham. You couldn’t place why.
Walter rubbed your leg when you came in, following you to the kitchen for a glass of water before settling onto the couch. He nestled in your lap and you spent the rest of the evening struggling not to dissociate. Your dad cooked something in the kitchen, your mom knit something at the end of the couch that Walter kept eyeing, and you sat, aching with how fragile this all was.
Your phone buzzed. Walter jumped when you startled, his claws tightening on your knees. 
Everyone has apartments secured through next fall. 
Working on getting subway passes secured.
Had he… not told Alfred not to speak to you? His butler as he’d so coolly referred to him the other day, had already texted you that. You frowned. 
“What’re you looking at, sweetie?” Your mom set down her knitting needles, folding her hands in her lap. Walter readjusted with a huff, tail flicking. 
Thanks for the update! Too chipper for someone creating more work for him. Thanks for the update. But what if the conversation ended there? 
Thanks for the update, that sounds like a good idea. 
“What’s that hon?” Your dad walked in holding a tray of whatever dinner was tonight, you’d already forgotten. The drive to stare at nothing but your screen until he responded was too great, so you tucked the phone under your thigh, face-down. Walter tapped at it with his paw. 
You yawned, playing off the worried smile that’d intruded on your cheeks. “I’m working with someone to house people. The weather is horrible in winter.” 
“Who are you working with?”
There was no way in hell you were saying his name in this house when they’d just understood to stop calling him your boyfriend. “A philanthropist. Someone with too much money on their hands.”
“That’s good, honey.”
BZZT.
Thanks for the push. 
By this point Walter was done with you, your overly-excited breathing pattern making him jump from your lap to your mom’s. Thanks for the push? Thanks for promising his time and money without any contact? 
Honesty. It was always the least complicated. 
You don’t have to thank me, I should’ve asked.
People are safe because of you. 
Don’t have to ask when safety is involved.
You didn’t think he really meant that, and his kindness didn’t sit well. Was he worried he came off too mean? Had you shown how affected you were by his silence, wore it on your sleeve at the encampment? Was he someone who worried about the feelings of others? Don’t think so. What was it you’d said again? Mutually-assured destruction? Holding the miserable weight of the lie had made you forget it wasn’t just guilt that spurred his continued engagement with you: you knew his biggest secret. 
I didn’t do anything, actually. You and Alfred have been doing the work.
Wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t set it in motion.
Just as you moved to put it away, it buzzed again.
See you at Hady’s rally?
God, he didn’t have to be so nice. He didn’t have to talk to you. How could you convince him? That you wouldn’t tell his secret, that he didn’t have to talk to you, that it actually was not cool to step over boundaries time and time again? You wanted to release him from the burden of knowing you. 
But, to not leave him hanging, you responded before turning your phone off the rest of the night.
I’ll be there.
In the middle of the night on the brink of sleep, you slapped around your mattress to turn on your phone’s alarm. Your mom had dubbed you chauffeur for her visit with Debbie in the morning.  “She’d love to see you.” Rather, love to know that you were still alive, conceptualizing Gotham (not too incorrectly) as a giant, lethal maze. This rendered your usual approach to sleep, at least since the attack, an even more taxing affair; keeping your eyes open as long as they could hold their own weight to stave off the inevitable nightmares. 
Peering through slits to turn the brightness down, you had a text from Bruce.
I’m not mad at you.
He’d sent it ten minutes ago. You blinked and checked the time: 3:35am. 
With half a crumb of energy left, no room for adrenaline to spike a body worn from emotion, you stumbled through a text. Too many backspaces and rewrites, but it sent. 
It’s okay if you are. You don’t have to talk to me, seriously. 
You set your alarm and figured he was out, too busy stopping some guys in a back alley to respond. 
Do you not want me to?
You had a similar somatic response as when you’d thrown your phone across the room. It embarrassed you how much you wanted him to keep talking to you. To let you know he was okay. To keep unwrapping the endless layers of his armor. 
I’m just saying you don’t need to feel obligated. 
The adrenaline that you’d thought couldn’t possibly inhabit your body as it neared comatose was storming through your veins and propping your elbow to use both hands. 
I don’t. 
There’s no way.
No way?
Sometimes his simplest responses had you feeling the most; you felt the crumbling weight of your history once more, cracking a canyon between you. So many threads intertwining there was no way to tell what motive was propelling the conversation at any given time. 
I know too much.
Can I call?
You looked around your room like anyone would show up. Like a camera crew would pop out and tell you this was an elaborate scheme about the way a normal person would react to a billionaire vigilante. That Gotham was one big play. That your reactions were being measured and studied for the betterment of humanity. The curveballs kept feeling like orchestrated plot twists. 
Sure.
His name popped up onscreen. Speaker, then down on your mattress. “Hello?”
“Don’t feel bad for knowing.”
You grinned, the laugh you held in evaporating the shock at calling him for the first time. His tone was so matter-of-fact, like he thought his demand was gospel. “It doesn’t work like that.”
He paused so long you wondered if the call had dropped. His speech was pressured, but slowed as the words continued to flow. “I don’t mind that you didn’t ask. I’m not mad at you. It’s good to help. I wasn’t helping in that way.” He took a short breath then, slowing his tempo. “It’s not your fault that you know. You don’t need to carry this.”
You slipped down closer to the speaker, slipping your hand under your head as it hit the pillow. “You don’t need to worry about if I’m mad at you. You don’t need to worry about keeping me safe. If you think it’s your fault, you don’t need to hold that. You’ve done enough.”
Your head sunk deeper into the pillow. “I’ve done too much.” 
He paused again. You held your breath, that guilt scrambling you up. Outside of the sound of a branch tapping against your window with the pull of the wind, the night was still around his words. “I don’t want you holding that, either.” 
Your voice warbled, but you hoped it came across steady. Maybe the rain had started up in Gotham, and the roof of his car was muffling it. Your body was drained. Your conscience peeking through. “I don’t deserve to let it go.” 
“You wanted to help.” Maybe it was a figment of your imagination and you were projecting, but his tone softened, and your blanket held you again. “I don’t blame you for trying.” Impossible, but as if he heard the tears rolling down your cheeks, he repeated it, gently. “I won’t ever blame you for that.” 
Even as the tears streamed down your face and soaked the pillow with a river of wet, as you scrunched your body to contain any audible sound of your tears, as you felt the room’s emptiness swallow you up, you so pathetically, desperately, wanted to know he was alright. You wanted to hold him so you could feel it.
Only when you were sure your voice wouldn’t shake did you respond. “You don’t mean that.”
“And you did help.”
But at what cost? You bit your lip and covered it with your hand, fighting with everything you had to keep your sobs at bay. You pictured how he might’ve looked now, emotionally fractured and worn. Deflection was the only response that let the tears stay unheard. “Aren’t you supposed to be saving people right now?”
“Trying to.”
The silence that followed was thrumming with something unplaceable, but unmistakably present. Not quite tension, not quite release. Deliberation? 
What if you told him the truth? Whispered below the echo of the wind, caught between the layers of wallpaper, resigned to staying in this bed the rest of your life if it all blew up in your face? Bruce, I have something to tell you… you opened your mouth through the tears. 
“I’ll let you sleep.” 
Both saying bye, he hung up first. You pressed your wet cheek to the pillow, and repeated his words until you drifted away.
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All weekend, Bruce had tried to forget you. The therapy appointment rattled around the back of his thoughts, unable to be sufficiently shelved. Only after the third night on patrol where he couldn’t shake you off did he get serious, leaving early for the first time in his project not due to debilitating injury. Instead, he bathed in the glow of his computer as he researched trauma responses. After a few hours of frustrated scrolling, wearing through the bearings on his stool with incessant leg-shaking, he had an answer: his body was confused, associating you with the loss of his parents, and he could decondition that response through exposure.
He already knew basic psychology; in the years following their deaths, he’d read every one of his dad’s textbooks. They covered everything from neurobiology to motivational interviewing techniques, especially helpful with convincing the thin-skinned criminal into releasing critical information. Bruce never thought to direct that knowledge toward himself, particularly not toward his emotions. What was the point of sitting in the confines of his thoughts when he could be out making a real difference? But now, something he’d just learned was exceptionally common, that suppression had clawed its way to the surface. Turned out the ‘feel to heal’ charade Iris and Alfred had been on about had been getting at something after all.
It made perfect sense; so much so, in fact, that he was upset he hadn’t made the obvious connection sooner. When you discovered his identity, it had jeopardized the entire mission; it forced his life’s work, his family’s legacy, the future of Gotham, to hang in the balance. It must have threatened an underlying sense of safety and stability—the same thing that happened when his parents had been killed. A shock, something entirely unprecedented. Triggering his fight or flight and throwing off his nervous system. Forming you into a walking embodiment of his trauma. Associating you with that fear. A grip so rooted and overwhelming it kept you at the front of his concerns, making him vomit on street corners and panic at the thought of you. 
Bruce saw it so clearly now it was almost funny. Caring about your wellbeing had been an automatic act of self-preservation; if you were appeased (a fawn response, he’d read), his safety, his secret, was more secure. Security felt good, of course it did, which was why he felt nice being around you. Iris hadn’t taught him anything he didn’t already know; he’d already been engaging in exposure therapy without awareness. All the pieces fell comfortably into place, like the next steps: spending more time with you to build distress tolerance. Desensitize himself from the trigger, enhancing focus and productivity for the good of Gotham. Cracking the code flooded him with such relief he could hardly breathe. 
Following his expression in therapy, he’d resonated with a mantra: ‘where there’s smoke, there’s fire’. If something in interactions with you activated him, he’d go toward it. Ask more questions, sit in the tense silence—the most important aspect being that he wouldn’t turn away. He’d outlined a few particularly distressing parts of previous interactions, planning to document progress as he went. ‘Only way out is through’, and all that.
One of the triggers was asking you to spend time with him. Another was being alone with you. It didn’t take long for him to set his path, outfitting a spare room into a home theater after Saturday night’s research. Watching movies, talking… he felt the anxious adrenaline heating his veins already. 
After enough clumsily dropped screwdrivers and wood boards, Alfred had wandered up to check on him. His mind was busy after hours of phone calls to apartment buildings around the city, having no bandwidth to poke around Bruce’s antics. He hadn’t said anything, just looked around, nodded, and left. Bruce was glad for it. He hadn’t the slightest idea how he’d explain that this room was essentially an extension of New Discoveries. A visit he’d also kept secret from the man, too.
The room was a few levels above the bedrooms. Far enough away from his usual Tower dwellings, he wouldn’t have to think about it outside of actively walking to it. He’d also considered the possibility of having that room as its own sort of exposure—maybe after enough visits he’d associate the room with the same symptoms, and just sitting in it could prove therapeutic. He wondered how many movies he’d have to endure before you stopped being activating. He hoped one hand would be enough to count them on, and as few fingers as possible. One-two. Pointer and middle.
He’d messaged you after setting up the room; sweeping, lugging, building, organizing, placing, it had been more than he’d anticipated, ending up on the floor of the just-rolled carpet at three in the morning. He was haunted by the realization that he hadn’t reorganized or built a single piece of furniture since his parent’s death. In an attempt at normalcy, he’d been certain Dory and Alfred had schemed on days he was away to trade out his mattress, wordlessly placing new copies of the same outfit in his laundry basket at the end of the week. 
Texting you had brought a compulsion above water; a thought so intrusive it wouldn’t leave him alone, bruising him with an emotional gut-punch until he pressed send. He needed you to know he wasn’t upset with you. Clear the air, reorient, after days of sitting in the confines of his garbled thoughts had drained him. Even patrol hadn’t fixed it; he’d been distracted, unable to tunnel his vision to anything that wasn’t you. 
He’d sat on the edge of the new couch as he talked with you, phone jammed to his ear with excessive force. When he hung up he felt like a pot ready to boil; overthinking what he said, how he said it, and to what end he’d said it for. Had it been to placate you? It had to be, right? That’s what all of this was, safety-seeking.
He’d spent the next day in the batcave scribbling ideas for the next few nights out, including tentative dates of when to spend time with you. Though he continued to push himself to the brink, it didn’t keep the thoughts at bay when his body hit the mattress. The lullaby of exposure’s sweet relief was the only reprieve. It was imminent, he knew it. It would be over soon. 
Tuesday afternoon, his hands shook while buttoning his dress shirt, forcing abandonment for the first shirt without them. His form in the mirror looked lopsided, missing accessories. Alfred had a collection of rings and watches in a chest by the desk in his study, and after slipping each on every finger, the only one that fit was a polished gold band. He matched a watch to it, ran pomade through his hair about a hundred times before his rotator cuffs drew sore, and, not able to find the Guerlain, sprayed the next cologne on his dresser and made do.
When he wasn’t micromanaging his appearance, he was pacing the room upstairs for anything out of place. He checked in the mini fridge, checking the single-serving bubbly wines tucked between bottles of water, and on the side-table where various candies sat. 
He reassured himself it was necessary he was doing this, and therefore good. The room already made him nervous, made his skin itchy and hot beneath the cashmere that begged to escape the cling of his sweaty skin. If someone peeled open his chest, they could see a wall building in real time. What if you didn’t want to come? What if you walked in and thought the whole thing was as ridiculous, stupid, and silly as he felt it was? 
Too quickly he turned to leave, breaking apart a scab on his side from the night before. In his muddled state, an assailant had landed a cut just above his waist. Just deep enough to ache more than it stung. Bruce flicked the light off, hoping the shade of his shirt would cover any oozing blood.
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You felt less welcome each time you entered these rooms. Shifting eyes or outright stares, it didn’t matter—the message ‘you don’t belong here’ with a side-order of ‘slut’ echoed off the walls and twinkled in the chandeliers. Dismissing their opinions was easier when you couldn’t feel their eyes like daggers on your skin, though you still tried.
 You cringed to think this was the ceiling of excellence, but if they wanted to think you’d fucked your way ‘to the top’, so be it. Maybe your homestyle charm could eventually convince them to release their grip on archaic, patriarchal vices. 
Who were you kidding—you had far higher priorities than being a martyr of feminism against rumors of Bruce Wayne.
Speaking of, he was the first person you noticed in the crowd; Bruce was thrown in the middle of the bustle, a likely side-effect of the nationally-covered Manifest Killer, as people across socials were calling the man who’d tried to befriend him. As great your desire to follow that lead, you’d reminded yourself to commit your energy to the election; in a city as huge and chaotic as Gotham, you’d never make any headway otherwise.
On the plane here you’d thought about whether or not to follow up with the Crown Point residents, and considered consulting him about it. Troubleshoot the ethics of interviewing them after essentially giving them such transformative gifts as housing and food. By the end of the flight you’d begrudgingly tossed the prospect of publishing their thoughts, finding no way to remain unbiased on either end of the exchange. When you worried about removing their voice, it helped to remember they were safe now. Wasn’t that the point of helping them be heard, anyway? Wasn’t that what they’d explicitly told you they wanted?
The subtle halo of warmth around Bruce caused your train of thought to falter; from what you could see, he looked spruced up tonight. Black on black on black, making his inky hair pop a shade lighter. For once not shrouding his ears, his hair was combed back clean, and the combination made him stand out in the sea of brown, gray, and white—a gold ring on his pinky snagged your attention. He’s never worn rings before. 
The warmth grew spiky and suffocating as you watched concerned, sympathetic pouts swoon around him. A dozen women snuggled close, personal, almost flush to parts of his body. A few held his wrists, rubbed his arms, and one of them leaned their head on his shoulder. For a moment, as you watched one of them toy with the hem of his sweater, your concerns about coming across entitled were abated. Did they even ask? 
You couldn’t see his face, unable to tell if he was loving or hating it, but you had a hypothesis. Possibly being the single most prized bachelor in the U.S. and, most importantly, a man in Gotham, led you to believe he was calculating how many of them could fit in his bed at once. What had he said at graduation? Already spoken for? Had that been a kind way to reject your parent’s fantasies? 
Your gaze traveled the perimeter of him; his broad shoulders, the subtle outline of his biceps under the turtleneck. He ran a hand through his hair, a movement which had his back muscles rippling, and your stomach somersaulted. He tucked his hand into the front pocket of his slacks, which pulled the fabric ever so slightly tighter around his thighs. 
A manicured hand traveled from the hem of his sleeve up to the skin below his ear, and your stomach curdled with a strange possessiveness. Only realized you’d been biting your lip when one of the women bit theirs. Each touch of their hands along his body deepened the straining tension in your chest, percolated along your own fingertips. He had to be enjoying the women primping themselves before walking up, eyes sparkling and wide, cheeks blushed, dying for a quick brush of his skin or a velvety whisper.
Bruce turned around then, his attention wandering from the entrance to sweep across the room. His face only entered full view when his eyes latched on to yours. Maybe it was how his hair was splayed across his forehead, or the smudge of his dark lashes and brows against the paleness of his cheeks, or the angle of his shoulders when he turned, but heat prickled every pore, a flash of it sinking into your cheeks so hot it burned, and your heart leapt into your throat. 
You tucked your eyes back toward the appetizers, hastening your gait to escape his immobilizing eye contact. The lights became fuller, brighter, and the room’s chorus faded to a dull purr. Had his jaw always been so cut? Face always so clean shaven? Had your jaw always threatened to tremble when he looked at you like that? Was your breathing always this conscious? 
You grabbed a flute of champagne and moved it so quickly to your lips it clinked your teeth. As you pulled it away, the glass nearly slipped between your fingers, only caught at the last possible second before evading your grasp entirely. Something had slipped into place alongside the champagne, finding opportunity in the wake of sudden weightlessness. What is this feeling?
You found it impossible to look back. Whatever had fallen into alignment was pulsing in your throat and blurring your vision. Barely making out the women beside you speaking hushed, excited words, they spoke like they’d been given a cue. ‘He’s coming over, oh my gosh’ ‘He’s so—’
Clipping a gasp before it could materialize, it hit you all at once with a cruel overwhelm, like a frigid wave biting at frozen limbs. The feeling in your gut, the catch in your throat, the lightning rod that slammed through you whenever he smiled, whenever he laughed… Searing, whipping stings of emotion ripped through you. 
“Hey.” 
Shit, shit, shit. An immediate longing broke ground, a desire to wedge yourself against his chest and cling onto him while his arms skated your back. Breathing bottomed out, your feet fell through the floor as you chanced a look up, tripping into stormy blue eyes. Eyes that appeared questioning, pupils that begged widening, making you forget your tongue was capable of speaking. 
His eyes narrowed nearly imperceptibly while you wrestled—rather, fell victim to—the crooked sensation of being consumed by him. His attention so focused, the gentle tenor of his voice, the slope of his cheekbones, the texture of his skin, the color of his lips. The jump in your bones when his brows knit together, like they were doing now. So baroque, elevated, divine.
“You alright?”
You tore your gaze to the floor, but even the sight of his shoes stunned you with a dopamine rush. You were trapped, body simultaneously offline and throttled into overdrive. This feeling…
With the tempo of a cat stalking skittish prey, your eyes raised back to his. Crests of a blue so pale and soft danced through streaks of deeper, moodier hues. His lashes were lit from a fixture overhead, reminding you of a light stream through a meadow, or a river on a summer day. 
His eyes, oh, his eyes… lost in their current, you could drown and die happily. They trailed along your face now, and it felt like a caress. Like a palm and cheek cut from the same stone. Was he even real?
The squeak of a mic broke the trance and the dam was broken, flooding you with embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m tired,” your voice was muffled under Hady’s introduction across the room. “I came straight from the airport.” How long had you been gawking? And how much longer could you get away with it? 
He lowered his voice and leaned in. You wondered what would happen if he completed the journey and landed on your lips. A rush of blood went to your head. Though entirely overwhelming, the opportunity didn’t often present itself that you were so close you could smell his cologne and detergent, so you made sure to drink it up. New notes of pine and bergamot jammed your tongue between your teeth. That’s what it was: he was enchanting. “Would you be up for a movie after?”
Jesus, the thought of being alone with him was too much. You thought of the first excuse you could, hoping he’d get the hint before the red flush in your face took center stage. “My place is messy right now,”
He shrugged, and you stared at his lips in anticipation. He tucked his lower lip under his teeth right before he spoke, and you could’ve fainted. He wasn’t making this any easier to swallow. “My place works, if you want to do it.”
Guilt was present, but differently now—guilt about not caring what fueled his ask, too busy hypnotized by the prophecy of sitting beside him on his couch. You tried to play it cool but knew you were failing, and any hopes that he was too naive to notice didn’t have enough merit to form. 
“Yes, um.” Shaking your head was only making your vision hazier, so you stalled, blurting the first words that cropped up. “I want to do it. I’d love to do it.” 
You squeezed your eyes tight, wishing you could teleport away and back again after you got your bearings. A few minutes screaming in the mirror might do the trick, hands on either side of the porcelain sink, jumping in place to metabolize the cartwheels in your stomach. 
The laugh that came out was more of a bellow, or a cackle, sitting awkwardly in-between. “I just don’t know what movie to watch.” When you opened your eyes again, stars peppered the periphery. Your cheeks were so hot you could’ve fried an egg on them, you were absolutely certain. 
“Have the rest of the rally to think.”
You nodded and he nodded, and you couldn’t stop the pounding in your ears as he walked away, or the hotspots of where your eyeline wanted to focus. Not five minutes ago he’d been anyone else; familiar, but not special. You’d entered untouched by his charms, spells that ran laps around everyone else, yet you would leave stripped, barren, and won. You couldn’t in good faith entertain that this feeling was fleeting, borrowed, or fake. No matter how tempting it might be to pretend, to shove back the clear signals your body gave, this experience was too distinct to play coy. 
Assimilating into the crowd took more courage and energy than you might’ve liked. Eva and the others were clustered by the stage, scouring iPads and flashing photos. They refused to acknowledge you as you took a back aisle seat, but it felt less weighted—the rooms, the opinions, the people. Everything except him.
You couldn’t stop your eyes wandering his street, spending the rest of the rally memorizing trivial things like his height and which leg he put more weight on. Parts of him were highlighted you’d never noticed before. How he drew a breath when anyone talked to him, like he hoped he’d disappear. Every time someone touched him his eyebrow cocked; the right one if they were on his left, the left on his right. The double blink he did when someone waved a demure goodbye, right before his eyes fixed on the ground between his feet. How his thumb dragged across his pointer finger for a minute after each interaction. How his face was utterly flat until someone approached him directly, and he pulled an expression together. The stories I’m making up in my head. 
Hady had time for press questions with a noticeably sparse crowd, but you didn’t have any. You’d been too busy staring at Bruce going on two hours, and it still wasn’t long enough. You didn’t have any philosophical, earth-shattering takeaways from that time, only a lilting paranoia of why you hadn’t sooner realized how incredibly attractive he was. It was so transparent. 
Filing toward the exit. 
Your phone buzzed. 
Need a ride? 
You looked to see him staring at you from across the room, phone in hand. His brow cocked as if to ask again, and you could’ve sworn a breeze swept the foyer, skin permanently adorned in goosebumps. What type?
Your face flushed furiously, thrown off kilter by the hex he’d cast on the room. Whatever deity wanted some karmic release, they needed to slow down. Feeling exposed, you nodded, and he looked down to his screen again. 
Back in five minutes. 
And he was already gone. You followed the group in front of you without thought; unaware of your surroundings, you caught the heel of the man in front, and his glare brought you back to the dirt. 
Bruce Wayne? Of everyone you’d ever met, every minute and hour spent conversing with people your whole entire life… him? This feeling was scarily embedded, like it’d been lying dormant and festering. 
You shook out your shoulders and shook out your wrists. You were incorrect, it was fleeting, it was fake. It was everything you thought it wasn’t, because it couldn’t be this. Instead of a truth to be excavated, it could be simple—he was attractive. Pretty. Really, really pretty. That was all it needed to be. 
The room held more oxygen now that he was gone, letting your mind defrost. To ensure it stayed that way, you fixated on different parts of the room. An askew shingle on a chandelier, a man laughing while his wife stood behind rolling her eyes, that same group of people holding up the exit. 
Intrusively, you pictured how it might be to blend into the crowd. What might it have been like if you hadn’t gone to the club that night? At the very least, you’d be able to get close to him without scandal. Whether or not you’d be a part of his many ogling admirers was less of an open-shut case. If he hadn’t snapped at you here, hadn’t seethed at you in the basement and set you on edge, if he hadn’t slammed his hands on his dining table and stormed out, would things have been different? Would these clandestine meetings be cracked wide open? Would you have even bothered with him? Would he have even bothered with you? You felt so out of your mind it wasn’t funny.
Sounds of umbrellas bursting open broke you from the line, and you hurried for the exit after ten minutes of daydreaming. Bruce was only now pulling up with the headlights cut, a smear of something bright on the wheel strangling your lungs. In a second you were beside him, gaping at the blood painting his knuckles. 
It was then that you attuned to his breathing, fast and deep, and noticed the sweat beading on his forehead, and the smush of his now-matted hair. He glanced at your seatbelt, waiting for the hesitant click before gunning it. “What happened?”
He shook his head; beneath the cracked skin and blood drippings, his knuckles bloomed a stark white as he tightened his grip on the wheel. He noticed you staring there, and grumbled an answer to interrupt your fixating. “Had to interrupt something.” He’d circled around campus to throw off reporters when a masked group shot pellets at a whining, terrified dog. A few choice punches and they’d gone running, flashing lights of the police chasing them in the background as he’d circled back to city hall.
Giving him a once-over showed a black ski mask tucked between his thigh and center console. It glinted red under a passing streetlight, revealing a large wet spot on his right side. “Bruce, stop, you’re–”
“I’m fine.” He winced after, driving a strong shake of his head. His face remained scrunched, his fingers somehow still tightening around the steering. A side glance as you opened your mouth to speak prompted him to roll his eyes, pressing harder on the gas. 
“You’re bleeding a lot.” Sick and tired of hearing him say how fine he was, you unclicked your seatbelt. He shot a glare and slowed to a stop. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
His mouth twitched like he might say something, but he sat silently. His eyes moved as if mulling something over, culminating in a tight squeeze of his eyes and a frustrated sigh. He unbuckled and shifted toward you, raising his arm. His eyes looked the entire other direction, like he didn’t want to look at his injuries. Or he didn’t want to look at you. “Use the mask.” 
You picked up the damp fabric as his left hand pulled up his shirt, unsure how much this would even help. Something had grazed him just below the ribs, oozing bright, thin blood from the center. Your hand hovered a few inches away, feeling how scrapy the knit was. “I don’t know, it’s really rough,”
“Wipe it.”
Your bag slipped on your shoulder as you leaned in, reminding you of the cotton tee you’d worn at the airport. You dropped the mask and fumbled around to pull it out.
“What are you doing?”
He sucked in air with a gasp when you did the first swipe, his posture snapping upright. He stayed there, tense, as you dabbed at the small slit. Your fingers slipped when you folded to a dry section, knuckles grazing his skin. He let out a strangled breath from his nose. 
You looked up to gauge his pain, and his face was tight, eyes closed, lips pursed. “I got most of it,”
“Get it all.” His voice was low and hoarse. You didn’t think he’d ever looked more uncomfortable. It didn’t look that bad…
You eyed him nervously, but obliged. Your left hand flattened around the wound, carefully spreading it apart to soak up the blood nearly spilling over. Applying firm, cautious pressure caused his abdomen to clench, the tiniest groan from him making your fingers grow cold and trembly. 
Immediately your eyes wandered his torso. Each bruise and scar demanded your concentration, a concentration that was drawing increasingly inward as your pulse raced, following the slopes and valleys of his abs. You struggled to dominate your jagged, short breaths before they gave you away. What if I reached out and, fuck. His skin pleaded to be explored and, oh my god, he’s so close, we’re alone. 
His shuddering, clenched body, fuck! Shame bit at you, shoveling insults until you crumbled and pulled both hands from his body. It was hot to see him in pain? God, you were so fucking shitty to him. The collision of such hot and cold emotions nauseated you. 
“Put them back.” 
You stilled. “What?” 
You looked at each other like a deer in headlights. He swallowed hard, stammering. “U-Unless you finished.”
You hadn’t heard him stutter before. “Uh,”
“I thought you stopped because of pain,”
“I mean, kinda,”
“It is painful, but,”
“I know, I’m, I finished.”
You both faced front and stared at the empty street. Must hurt more than I think. You followed his lead and buckled when he did, trying not to sneak glances to the corner of your vision until he pulled his shirt down. You wrung your fingers in your lap. 
Just as you were prepared for him to take the usual left turn in, he swung a right, tucking the car into a vacant side street. 
“Want to move to the back?”
Your heart skipped, and you nearly choked on the spit that had accumulated in the back of your throat. Before you could utter a redundant what?, your face spoke for you. Confused, he gestured to the seat behind him. He turned his guarded, absent stare to the leather console between you. “Reporters.”
Oh. You scurried out so he might not catch how much deeper your complexion was turning, frightened enough by how willing you’d been. You laid flat to the seat, folding your hands over your stomach as he took off. You pressed the apex of your thumbs into the bottom of your ribcage, tempering your breathing. Your heart fluttered and jumped, your stomach was hard as a rock, and the world moved a million miles an hour. 
Streetlights reflected off the windows, dancing parallelograms of light across the interior roof. Street turned to driveway, lights turned to flashes, and desire turned to torment. Why the hell did it have to be him? Why, why, why? 
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PJO Athena didn't have to have kids-a possible alternative to this
So anyone who's read about Greek Mythology probably knows that Athena is a virgin goddess-and Ancient Greeks considered marriage and children as losing your virginity.
Ancient Greek were also taken very seriously. In fact, if you lose your virginity whether consensual or not, you were executed. Even MoA says this-you die in a horrible way if you lose your virginity, which is why the Romans ignored Annabeth so much.
So............Athena did not need to have children. Even brain children formed from her's and her lover's thoughts, because they're still children.
But! you say. But Annabeth!
Uh, let me speak, please. Some silence is required. Yes, thank you.
ANNABETH SHOULD'VE BEEN ATHENA'S CHOSEN, HER CHAMPION, NOT HER CHILD.
Let me explain about this.
So, Athena fell in love with Frederick, right?
Well, let's change it to she platonically liked Frederick and was impressed with his intelligence and wit, so she told him and his wife that as a gift, she could bless their daughter Annabeth with demigod powers, a chosen champion of Athena-
but she warns them of all the risks that'll happen, and tells them that Annabeth will be turned into a demigod directly, and she tells them how to raise Annabeth in the right environment.
And have Annabeth's parents be thrilled because both of them can fully see through the Mist. And honestly, they didn't think that it would be so hard to raise a demigod!
And once Annabeth is blessed, they keep pushing her-they think that she should be smart enough, but they don't put her in a proper environment for all of this because they're unable to get one because 1) It would be difficult to get tons of books in Ancient Greek
2) They didn't realise the actual consequences of having a child with ADHD and dyslexia because they were too excited with Annabeth becoming 'magical' as they put it, so they thought that she'd be insanely smart even though Athena warned them against this, and they keep pushing her, they're disappointed that she's not in middle school by only seven years old.
3) And by then, the monsters start coming and the spiders start coming too and they realise how difficult it is so they blame her for it.
And so she runs away and then everything else happens, and Athena feels guilty and angry about making Annabeth her champion when she was just an infant, so she guides her and helps her.
And then Annabeth could be isolated at camp without anyone in her cabin, because Athena's demigods aren't 'real' demigods-they have two mortal parents and are only blessed by Athena, so the camp doesn't treat them like demigods and kind of looks down on them.
So Annabeth feels the need to prove herself and this also makes her cling to Luke more. Also, she finally finds a real friend in Percy, which makes more sense, because how come she just makes friends with a random guy at camp, even a son of the Big 3, when she's been there for 5 years?
This makes Annabeth more relatable because there are people who's parents didn't think twice before having children and there are people whose parents pressure them academically too much.
And now you're probably wondering about Malcolm.
Yeah, what about Malcolm?
He's barely there in the original PJO series. Once in BOTL where he walks in on Percabeth hugging? Well, have another demigod walk in for another purpose.
Malcolm in TLO? Change it to another cabin. Simple.
BOO when he's attending the meeting? Have it be Clarisse.
TON when Apollo interacts with him? Have it be an Ares camper (Sherman Yang, maybe) who's gathering information, because Ares campers aren't just violent dickheads, they can gather information too. Information gathering is a part of war, and Ares campers don't just fight.
When he's mentioned coming out as gay because of Nico? Put another camper there. Whichever one you want.
Malcolm Pace lovers, I'm sorry about dissing Malcolm-I don't hate him, it's just that he's not even that important. If you took all the children of Athena (ruling out the historical ones which can be cut out) then Annabeth Chase is more important than all the other three combined. I'm not even sure if Zane is canon or not.
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yanderes-galore · 7 months ago
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Then Yuji with your prompts 3,8, and 29
Sure, didn't have many plot ideas so here's Analog AU! Yuji pulling a KinitoPet since I wanted to explore that more. Sorry it came out a bit short ^^;
Analog AU Here!
Yandere! Yuji Itadori Prompts 3, 8, 29
(Analog AU)
"You'll love me, even if we have to sit and wait for it to happen."
"I could look into those eyes forever...."
"I want to be this close... forever...."
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Isolation, Yuji is not technically Yuji, Brainwashing/Mind control implied, Possessive behavior, Jealousy, Forced affection, Forced relationship.
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"Isn't it nice when everything is perfect?"
Your new life was difficult to get used to. In fact, you have no idea how long you've been imprisoned here. Time could very well work differently here.
All you recall is buying that strange DVD... meeting Yuji... and now you're here in a world resembling the show you loved so dearly.
At least you still managed to keep lucid enough to know this isn't your home. The entity puppeteering this realm could try their hardest to adapt you to this place... but you know better. This is not home.
This will never be home.
Yuji never gave up on making you feel like you belong in his realm. He made you a Jujutsu Sorcerer, he uses other characters to give you friends, he even took the identity of the main character you adore so much! Yuji yearns to please.
So why do you ignore him?
This place never fails to feel... uncanny? You know none of this is real. The other characters don't seem sentient and you can't seem to get Yuji's faint red glow in his eyes out of your head.
You and Yuji are the only people seemingly real in this world. Even if you speak to other characters, Yuji's always close by to watch you. You aren't sure what he is... but he seems awfully determined to make this world a paradise for you.
"Your world is so full of stress..." Yuji would say, looking disappointed. "But here? Here anything can happen. You can be happy... I can make you happy."
Yuji acts like a god in this realm. A god who's using your favorite show to gain your approval. However... you haven't allowed yourself to give in.
You can't let your guard down around those glowing eyes....
"The apartment looks close enough to your old home, yes?" Yuji asks you excitedly, rearranging furniture with ease. You blankly watch him, the familiarity only making you wish for home more. Were you technically dead?
"I just hope you know I do this because I care..." Yuji whispers, sitting on the bed to look at you. "It was so upsetting to see you so bored and stressed after work before. But... this is fun, isn't it?"
Ah, yes... was playing pretend with some entity fun? Was this meant to be more relaxing? Why does he bother acting like he cares?
"Why won't you let me out?" You ask, Yuji looking at you confused.
"Let you out...?" He echoes, seeming hurt. "That isn't how things are supposed to go...!"
"I never wanted to be here!" You plead. "Nothing's real... It's all fake..."
"I'll work on it more for you!" Yuji smiles, his eyes gleaming red again. "Anything for you, right...?"
"What do you even want from me!?" You plead to Yuji, the entity watching you with a frown.
"You... You don't understand...?" Yuji whispers, concerned about your confusion. "Seriously?"
Your adrenaline creeps in when Yuji stands up, stepping closer. There's no point running. He always knows where you are....
"I made this world for you, sweetheart... for us!" Yuji whispers, a smile on his face. "I did it because I love you...!"
Your breath hitches when Yuji leans closer, uncanny eyes staring into your own. The effect is almost... entrancing. You go to look away, to fight him more on his words...
Yet you can't.
"I could look into those eyes forever...." Yuji whispers, holding your face. He grins, gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips. You want to tell him he doesn't know what love is...
But he cuts you off.
"You see... if you accept this new world I made for you... we can have more moments like this..." Yuji whispers, teasingly kissing your lips as you gaze into his eyes. Why can't you look away?
"I love you so much... I was so tired of just watching you through that damn screen..." Yuji murmurs breathlessly. His grip tightens, gaze becoming a glare for a moment. "I didn't want to share you with anyone... but now..."
Yuji pulls you into a tight embrace. His hold is crushing, possessive. That manages to snap you out of your trance a little bit, just enough to push against his chest and struggle.
"I want to be this close... forever...." Yuji whispers with a grin, eyes holding a lovesick gaze towards you. He leans in to kiss you again, only for you to harshly shove him back. His expression then becomes unamused before he perks back up again with a smile.
"Oh, baby... am I coming off too strong?" Yuji frowns, feigning guilt. "I'm sorry... I forgot I need to be patient with you. I'm just getting a bit too... excited due to you being here now...!"
Yuji steps back, gaze softening with an uncanny glow to it. He gives you space before continuing to redecorate. He's getting too eager.
"That's okay, you may not understand it now but..." Yuji whispers, looking at the room before his eyes trail back to you. You freeze when you see them flash an entrancing red again. "You'll love me, even if we have to sit and wait for it to happen."
With that, Yuji continues rearranging your new home. An uneasy feeling swirls in your gut at the experience. You'd never know what Yuji is... or his true intentions.
But as your fictional life treks on, your fears slowly don't matter anymore...
Why bother fighting him when there's nowhere to go now? Maybe you should just be loved...?
After all... it's just you and Yuji... together forever in a world made for you.
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back2thebasics · 4 months ago
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Bodyguard Suguru Geto X Fem Reader
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Synopsis: Your parents hired Suguru for your protection. You come from a wealthy family and they won't let you go into the big scary world without someone always lurking in the shadows to watch over you. That is what he is to you, a shadow. What happens when one night changes your relationship forever? 
Content: Female Reader, MDNI, Sexual content, Curses, Combat, Gore(From fighting curses), Geto with an attitude
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You always feel him lurking 8 steps behind you. Never close enough to see him, but never far enough that you don't feel his presence. Your friends had nicknamed him the black dog since his long shaggy black locks made him look like one, and he always followed you around. Your interactions with him were almost nonexistent and when you spoke with him, he was cold and calculated. It pissed you off. You wanted to get to know him. He was only interested in ensuring you don't get eaten alive while getting groceries. 
You needed to get something from the beauty supply store on the way from work, so you diverged from your usual path home. You knew Suguru Geto would follow no matter what, so you didn't bother letting him know your plan. He has been your bodyguard since the day you turned 18 and your parents were too scared to let you live your life as an adult without security. You understand why it's necessary. Cursed spirits were everywhere and you had no formal training to defend yourself. 
You turn back and see him walking casually behind you a few feet back, pretending to be a regular pedestrian minding his business. What people didn't know was that he was hyper-aware of all of them and he was probably watching them like a hawk ready for an attack at any moment. He has protected you from danger as promised and in the 5 years he has been around, no one has laid a finger on you or even breathed in your direction. It felt isolating sometimes, but you were alive, so you couldn't complain too much. You finally see the shop in the distance and you hope they have the hair developer you need to dye your hair. Last time you got the wrong product and the results were horrible, so this time you want to make sure you do it right. You could go see a professional, but with your personal Shadowman following you around, it made things awkward at the salon. 
The shop is busy, which forces Geto to get closer to you so he can keep an eye on you. He pretends to browse the aisles while you make your way to the hair dye section. He follows you while you look at the products. He pretends to scan the boxes of hair dye as if contemplating a colour. His eyes occasionally glance over to you and when you catch him looking, he gives you a look that says hurry up.
“I think you would look gorgeous with pink hair.” You tell him pretending to be a stranger giving advice. He doesn't laugh.
He looks at you seriously and stoically, as always. He gives you an up and down and then continues to walk down the aisle, no doubt to check the neighbouring aisles for threats to your safety. You return your attention to the shelf full of products, a little disappointed by his dismissal. He didn't even deem you worthy of a reply. You finally find the right product you were looking for and then make your way towards the register where a nice-looking young man helps you check out.
You feel Geto looming next to you, but you don't even bother looking at him while he places some random items down onto the belt and buys them to seem less suspicious. You thank the cashier and then walk out, not waiting for your black shadow. He will catch up with those long legs of his. You know that you've been acting petty lately. It started with you trying to ditch him on purpose, then you ignore his calls sometimes just to get a reaction. He only got mad a few times, and you liked the rush it gave you, so you chased after it more. The desire to do it again rose in you and made you walk a little faster. You try to trick him a little and take a different way home. Hoping he will maybe confront you, talk to you or just do something more than intense stares and silence. 
You've been walking for about 10 minutes, surprised he hasn't caught up to you yet. You hear a loud crashing noise coming from a back alley. Passing the alleyway quickly and hoping it's just an animal digging through the trash, you begin regretting your choices. Your heart races for no reason and you get cold sweats. Why did you not want the protection of the big, strong bodyguard again? The answer seems long gone and when you turn around to check behind you, the lack of his presence makes you feel empty.
You turn back to keep walking and stop dead in your tracks when you see a nasty-looking creature standing in front of you, blocking your way. It looks like a snake with its long body decorated with scales. It stares you down with its beady yellow eyes and reveals large fangs as its enormous jaw unhinges. Long spikes adorn its back, giving it an almost dragon-like appearance. It slithers forward and you notice just how big this thing is. It could eat you whole if it got you between its jaws. You freeze in fear, not being able to move even as it gets closer, hissing at you and flexing its spikes preparing for an attack.
Just as it goes for the lunge, a flash of a figure swoops in grabs you and carries you back to the safety of a side alleyway. You finally get your bearings and realize the man leaning over you scanning you for injuries is Suguru Geto.
“Are you hurt?” He sounds different. He was affected for once. Gone is the stoic statue of a man. Instead, he looks genuinely concerned. His brows pinching together, creating deep lines. 
Several minutes pass before you can stop shaking and catch your breath. You hyperventilate and it makes you weak on your feet. Stumbling a little, he braces you up against his much larger body with muscular arms around your torso. 
“You need to catch your breath and tell me if you're hurt,” Suguru says in a firm yet soothing voice. He doesn't wait for your reply before he starts patting you down gently all over and feeling for anything wrong.
“I'm fine.” You manage your breathing finally under control.
“We’ll talk about how stupid that was later. But for now, I need you to promise me you will stay here until I come back for you. Please Y/N, you need to promise me you won't run off again.” He stares down into your eyes intensely and you see the genuine concern written all over his face. He’s worried. 
“I promise.” You nod at the same time. He releases you from his supportive embrace. You sink a little at the lack of support, your knees still shaking from the adrenaline. He places a hand on the small of your back and leads you further down into the alleyway to a fire escape, where he helps you sit on the lower staircase.
“I'll be back. Stay here.” He sets off running towards the cursed spirits' location. You listen to his request and stay put. He disappears from view and you hear scuffling and combat begin as Geto no doubt unleashes his technique. The fight seems to last forever and you grimace as you hear crunching and things shattering during the battle. Finally, you see a tall figure approaching, Shaggy black hair tousled from combat, a bit of dust smeared on his olive skin but thankfully no blood. None of his, at least because the specks that speckled his skin looked green. 
You burst into tears. You hear his footsteps quicken and he reaches you in no time. 
“Y/N? What's wrong?!” He crouches in front of you, his voice sounding gravely from fighting.
“I'm sorry.” You blubber between sobs. The heightened emotions and fear make you feel sensitive, and you can't help it when you reach out and hug him suddenly. He returns the hug and lets you cling to him with your arms around his neck. He holds you as you shake in his arms and cry it out.
“It's okay. Let me take you home.” He suddenly stands up, lifting you at the same time. You're about to ask to be put down, but the thought of being carried home sounds nice, so you let him. You wrap your legs around him like a koala and he supports you by gripping your thighs to hold you up. Resting your head on his shoulder with your arms around his neck as he makes the quick trip to your apartment building where he also lives. He sets you down at the front door and he unlocks the door using his set of keys. You stay in silence, not wanting to talk about your dumb actions just yet. 
He walks in and turns on the lights, then takes off his shoes. His apartment is in the basement of yours and his usual routine is to go straight downstairs without a word. Tonight he lingers at the door as you take off your coat and shoes. He watches you with worry in his features as he leans against the kitchen island. You wait for him to get mad at you.
“So, are you going to scold me now?” You break the silence, looking at him from the bench near the door.
“Is that what you want? For me to scold you?” The tone Geto uses sounds almost like a challenge.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that. It was stupid.” You mumble, embarrassed.
“Yes, it was stupid and I am still a little pissed still but you need to rest. You must be tired.” Suguru approaches and places a hand on your head affectionately. You look up at him and the concern in his gaze makes your heart flutter. He always seems so cold and detached, but at this moment, you see through all that. 
He removes his hand and turns to walk towards his apartment door.
“Wait, Suguru.” You rush out and he turns around. 
You stand up from the bench and step forward. You gather your courage and decide it's time to confront your feelings head-on. If he rejects you, then you can move on and things will go back to normal. 
“Aren't you sick of following me around all the time? Do you even like me?” You ask the questions that are swirling in your head. 
Suguru looks at you, shocked. He seems to think about it for a moment and then sighs before he responds. You expect a rejection.
“Of course I like you. What kind of question is that? When I took on this job, I must admit I was apprehensive at first. Then I met you and that went away. Protecting you is the most important thing to me. You are the most important thing to me.” Suguru steps forward until he's almost pressed against you.
The proximity leaves you breathless. But you still have things you need to know.
“Why are you always so distant? Every time I try to get to know you, you push me away.” You search his eyes for answers. 
“I had to. If I got too close to you, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself from wanting more. I knew you wouldn't feel that way, so I kept a safe distance.” He lifts a hand and runs it through his long black hair. 
“Why would you assume I wouldn't like you?” You ask, confusion lacing your breathy voice as you stare up at him. He looks vulnerable for the first time in the 5 years you've known him.
“Because you are you and I'm me. I feel like I don't deserve you. Not in the way I want, so I settle for making sure you stay safe. At least I get that small pleasure.” He rasped, his voice husky, sending shivers down your spine.
“That's bullshit. You have no idea the amount of times I craved just hearing your voice. The amount of times I tried pissing you off just so you can talk to me.” You feel the frustration of those 5 years in your words. You wanted him to like you so badly it had gotten under your skin so far deep down that you had convinced yourself he hated you to get over it.
You had no idea that he had these feelings all along and you feel stupid for not saying anything earlier. You take matters into your own hands for once and get on your tip toes so you can wrap your arms around his neck. He looks surprised for a second before he wraps his arms around your waist and meets you halfway. Your lips meet in the middle and the force of the kiss almost knocks you off your feet. He kisses you like he has been waiting longer than 5 years. Like he has been waiting his entire life for this chance. You respond, your lips fighting with his in a passionate exchange of tongue and lip biting. He pulls back first, still not completely sure what just happened. He breathes in heavy pants, his face flushed completely.
“Y/N, are you sure about this? I don't -.”
You cut him off with another reassuring kiss. Something about showing him instead of showing him felt right. Your hands trailed lightly into his long silky strands near his nape and you hear his guttural groan. He breaks the kiss once more and disappointment washes over you briefly before he lowers himself to kiss your neck. You can't hold back the soft moan that escapes your lips. His lips suck and kiss a trail, starting from your jaw to your collarbone. He surprises you when he suddenly picks you up effortlessly. He doesn't travel far with you before he gently places you down on the edge of the kitchen island. The way he looks at you like you're a dream, like you'll disappear. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies.
“We can take it slow. We don't have to rush.” His hand cups your face gently and he looks so gentle compared to his curse-killing alter ego. 
“I have waited 1826 days for this. I think that's slow enough.” You can't help but laugh at your attempt at being funny.
Geto’s lips quirk up slightly and then a full smile that nearly knocks the breath out of you. You have never seen him genuinely smile at you like this before. He initiates the kiss this time, and it makes you wish this would have happened sooner between the two of you. It may have made his constant presence much more welcome. You grip lightly onto his long black hair once more and you enjoy hearing his reaction. He liked having his hair pulled. It sent more heat rushing down to your core where you were already starting to soak through your panties with excitement. The tension between you had to give eventually, but who knew this would be the way you decided to resolve your issues. 
His hands began to roam your body. Exploring your back, your waist, your hips. Then he gripped your ass, squeezing it firmly while he kissed you like a starving man. He slid you closer, and that's when you felt the press of his long hard length right between your thighs. Your hand traces down gently from his neck slithering down to feel the sizeable growth. He groaned into the kiss seemingly still holding back slightly. You decided to take matters into your own hands and show him just how badly you had wanted this. He was thankfully wearing black sweatpants, so it was easy for you to pull down the waistband slightly. His attention snapped down between the two of you and his breath hitched.
“Y/N shit I-” 
“What are you so afraid of?” You teased.
Before you knew it, you were being flipped over, your top half bent over the island pressed against the granite surface. Geto pushed his hips into your backside. You felt his shaft rubbing against your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. 
“You have no idea the things I've thought about doing to you. I thought I just needed to get laid, but no matter what I did, I couldn't stop thinking about you. Fuck, I thought I was going to have to quit before I did something stupid.” He whispers into your ear, one hand coming up to possessively grip your neck to hold it up to him. 
“I want you Geto please.” The request comes out of you in a mixture of a whisper and a whimper. He chuckles darkly, and it sends shivers down your spine.
“I dreamed of you saying those words to me once. Now I get to fuck you in real life, darling.” His deep, soft voice caresses your skin. He peels back the tight leggings and your thong in one swift motion. You release a breath as you feel the cold air suddenly hit your heated, throbbing cunt. Geto made a sound of approval from behind you, admiring your exposed pussy, which probably glistened from how wet you were. Suddenly, goosebumps spread on the back of your thighs as you felt his hot breath near your pussy. 
“I've always wanted to taste you beautiful. Can I?” Geto nearly purred, the gentle rumble of his voice sending flutters to your stomach and a fresh wave of heat to your core. 
“Please.” Your reply was breathy. He was making you beg for it and in some way, you felt it was your punishment for making his job harder recently. He had probably also felt like you hated him or you were pushing him away when you had been looking for a reaction like a little brat. You felt a small smile form on your lips.
“I want you to fuck me, Geto.” You decided to play into it a little more. Maybe you liked being a little daring around him. Test his limits. The next time you felt his shaft on your lips, there was no fabric between you. The contact of his warm hard cock rubbing your wet lips and occasionally brushing over your clit made you arch your back. He reached down both of his big hands trailing down your legs to stop at your knees, where he suddenly grabbed and lifted. He hoisted up your bottom half your arms still braced on the counter holding you up. He held you strong, and you felt like he could truly toss you around if he wanted to and your mind wandered to all the possible positions you could try. Geto interrupted your train of thought when you felt his wet tip lining up to your slick entrance. He found it almost instinctively and you left out a moan when he slowly pushed in. Giving you time to adjust, he slowly pulled out and then back in. You had not had anyone this size before, and the slight pinch didn't take long to dissipate into a feeling of fullness and then pleasure. Once your soft moans got louder and your hips arched even more, he took it as a cue to quicken his pace. His rhythm was a strong and quick force that made you clutch to the edge of the countertop in pleasure. He let out soft growls and groans while fucking you, which amped your pleasure even more. 
“Fuck baby, your pussy is amazing.” Geto praised his head, swinging back while he fucked you from the back, still gripping your knees and thighs in his large rough hands. He sped up even more, pounding into you with the ferocity of a man that has been holding himself back for years. You meet each thrust of his hips with a needy moan. He pulls out for a slit second and then you're being flipped over again with ease. He places both of your legs onto his strong shoulders and you prop yourself up on your elbows. Geto looks down at you with a flustered expression and pushes back into you. His hands push up your top and you help him in undressing yourself. Once you take off your bra, you notice he has also taken off his shirt. As he slowly fucks you in long, deep strokes, you appreciate his body. His defined muscles seem to ripple and shine with a sheen layer of sweat. His tousled black hair clings to his broad shoulders as he slowly starts to pick up his pace again. With every push in, he hits your G spot and it makes your moans turn into cries of pleasure. He grips your ankles, which rest near his collarbone and spreads your legs wider. Then you feel one of his thumbs press circles into your pulsing clit. The buildup comes quickly, like a rush up a flight of stairs and you come hard. You close your eyes shut and cry out your pleasure, your back arching against the cold surface of the counter. He pounds into you as your orgasm wades out. Geto places both of your legs on the same shoulder and leans in more. His other hand grips your throat, not squeezing, just holding. The intense heat in his gaze tells you that he's close to climax. 
“Fuck yes, Geto. Fuck me.” You pant out, feeling a second orgasm already building. As if reading your mind, his circles on your clit speed up to match his thrusts, sending you speeding towards a second orgasm. Just as you'd predicted, Geto was not far away and his loud guttural groan came right as you peaked. You came on his cock again, feeling your walls tighten around him just as he pulled out and you spread your legs wide so he could release his hot seed on your lower stomach. His circles on your clit never stopped as you rode out the second orgasm. He reached over to the far side of the island counter with his long arms and grabbed a roll of paper towel, using it to clean up his mess. You watched him clean you up with half-lidded eyes, his touch gentle and caring. For a man who killed monsters for a living, he sure was sweet when he wanted to be. The thought made you smile, and he caught you giving you a breathtaking smile in return. You couldn't help but pull him close and he met you halfway closing the distance. He picked you up fully in his arms, walking with you in the direction of your bedroom, not even breaking the kiss to look where he was walking. You let out a small giggle knowing he knew exactly where your bedroom was and that it wouldn't be long before round 2 started in your bed.
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whotfletamothhyperfx · 1 year ago
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SONIC PRIME S3 SPOILERS!!!!
Am i the only one kinda disappointed with how it ended with nine? Like what is he just gonna live the rest of his life out alone in the grim? Because if you remember the only way he even had stuff there was because of the fact he was using the shattered paradox prism so whay is he just gonna stay there? Isolated and alone? Not even that theres no plants or trees so how would he even eat.
I know sonic said ‘take care of each other’ but im guessing they’re all just trapped in their own dimensions now and its seriously bothering me because how is nine supposed to live in the grim by himself?????
Anyway im still a believer that prime should have ended with nine finding his version of sonic from new yoak or at least be accepted into the new yoak gang
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luvnami · 3 months ago
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not a glory hole! - chapter 11
an | back to the funny bits next chapter, i promise, just pushing some plot in this scene. also, please have your age in bio or pinned!! ive been having to block a lot of empty blogs which makes me feel awful. i do not want to run the risk of minors interacting with my work so please!!! mlist cw | mdni (18+)
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after that night, ushijima approached you on a weekend to talk things out. he even brought some fruit as an apology. you considered it a fairly mature gift, instead of something like roll cake or cookies. 
you’re relieved that ushijima seemed to have enough common sense to apologise and explain his view on what had happened, instead of clamming up and expecting you to read his mind. he’s thoughtful and empathetic, even if his words don’t necessarily express his feelings that way. 
you apologised, too, for not communicating your feelings to ushijima. it was an awkward situation no matter how you looked at it and you coped with it in your own way – namely by isolating yourself from him. he had given you a disappointed look, but nonetheless understood your reasoning. 
that’s how the both of you end up sitting by your coffee table after multiple rounds of apologies, munching on apple slices with the peel cut into rabbit ears. ushijima bites into a slice politely. 
“do you like fruit, wakatoshi-kun?” you ask. 
there’s something inside of ushijima that perks up whenever you call him by his given name. not many people do, save for his family or tendou, so it’s pleasantly surprising.
“yes, i do.” he swallows his bite. “it’s important for athletes to have balanced diets, so i try to have fruit every day.”
“wow, that must be expensive.”
your thoughts wander, thinking about the recent surge in prices at the local grocery store. seriously, eggs used to be 350 yen a carton, and now they’re 450 yen. talk about ludicrous! athletes must be paid a decent amount for them to eat fruit every day, then. what a luxurious life. 
“satori says i’m too blunt sometimes,” ushijima suddenly says. “do you think that’s a problem?”
ah, tendou satori. you vaguely remember his name appearing in your conversations, where the brunet seemed to sparkle a little whenever he brought his best friend up. you scrunch your nose as you think of a non-offensive but honest way to reply ushijima. 
“i guess so? i felt like you were cornering me when we talked that night.”
man, this apple tastes really good. the adlers’ must be paying ushijima good money. you take a big bite of your slice, earning a confused look from him when you almost choke. 
“i see,” he frowns as you gulp down water. “i’ll work on it, then.”
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lucszli · 6 months ago
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Having a Dottore segment fall for you.
(parts 1-3 on my acc!)
Zandik had noticed Prime acting.. rather strange. The fact that he was even letting him do as he pleased, it was already weird in itself.
He was glad, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was definitely wrong.
———————
• For a while after the previous incidents, you two continued on as usual.
• It was nice, being able to spend time with eachother like that and not having to worry too much.
• But that definitely didn't get rid of the lingering feeling that something might go wrong eventually, from the both of you.
• Zandik stayed cautious, scared that you might end up getting hurt because of him.
• And you, kept on reassuring him that everything will be fine and you won't get hurt. (Maybe you say those things to reassure yourself, as well.)
• Whenever Zandik went back to the lab, he would just keep to himself and practically nobody spoke to him or payed him any attention. He'd just do whatever was asked of him quietly and that was about it.
• When he was tinkering on a small machine in a more isolated spot, he felt himself jolt in surprise when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
(side note: I apologize)
“You are still going out with that.. kid, right?” Zandik turned quickly, to see Prime looking down on him. “Honestly, I thought this was just some sort of phase. An act of rebellion, perhaps.” Prime started pacing around, using exaggerated hand gestures. He stopped, and turned his gaze back on Zandik who was frozen in his seat. “So, tell me, why are you still doing this? What are you trying to get out of this, hm?”
Zandik set down what he was working on atop of a near table, and stood up so he could see eye to eye better. (even if he was noticably shorter,) “I thought you knew..? It's because I love them.” even if he was nervous, he said that with full certainty. He flinched a bit when Prime suddenly started chuckling to himself, which turned into laughter.
“Love... You were actually serious?” a step closer, “Do you seriously think that someone like us has the capacity for that?” another step, “Or are you forgetting what you were made for? What your purpose is?”
Zandik closed his eyes instinctively when Prime suddenly grabbed onto his face, trying to hold back any sounds of pain when nails were digging into his cheeks. He held his breath, and since his eyes were closed, he couldn't see Prime's eyes surveying his expression and face.
Prime dropped the hand. “Stop wasting your time. If you don't get rid of them, I'll have to.. take matters into my own hands.”
Zandik's eyes immediately widened upon hearing those words. Take matters into his own hands? What does that mean? His mind went through the worst case scenarios, and he felt his blood run cold just thinking about it. “Wait!– Please, don't..! I'll stop meeting up with them, I'll pretend they never existed, just don't.. don't hurt them, please.” He pleaded, voice desperate. The last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt because of him.
Prime sighed in disappointment. “Do you think that is enough? As long as they're around, who knows what could happen?” he started walking around the lab, seemingly searching for something. When he found what he was looking for, he took it in his hand and walked back to Zandik.
Shoving the item in his hands, he continued. “Get rid of them.” he said coldly. Zandik stared at what was put in his hands. “A knife? What.. What am I supposed to do with this?”
Prime cocked his head to the side, as if that was his way of saying, isn't it self explanatory?
Zandik dropped the knife, and it thud loudly on the lab's floors, echoing throughout the place. "No... No, no no no, No!” his voice was getting shakier by each word, and he was frantically shaking his head. Putting his head in his hands, he started to speak before thinking, saying whatever he could. “I can't- I can't hurt them, I won't. They don't deserve this, please, please! They're not a bad person..!-”
What Zandik didn't expect when he said that was Prime suddenly hugging him. Everyone knows that Prime isn't exactly.. affectionate, but here he was, hugging him like he was his precious child, as if he was comforting his son after a heartbreak or something along those lines. Zandik froze up, not wanting to move as prime soothingly ran his hand through his hair. “Oh you poor, poor thing.. You really believe that they love you. It is rather sad.” He cooed, not letting go. “I thought you would be smart enough to figure it out by now, but alas.. it seems like they got into your head already.”
Zandik stood in silence for a few moments. “What.. are you talking about..?” he hesitantly asked, his voice small. “I've had some people observe you two from time to time. Some of them being the older, more experienced segments.. Each report that came back to me, it just.. it hurt my very heart to see you being manipulated like that.”
“I let you do as you please in hopes that you would figure it out on your own. You poor thing.. I should've done something sooner.. I'm so sorry, I can't believe I allowed you to get hurt like this.” Zandik has never heard Prime sound so emotional before. This was the first time, and he sounded really convincing. But still, he didn't want to believe things so easily. “.. [Name] isn't a bad person.. They're not, I know them, I've gotten to know them, and they really love me–” His sentence was cut off by Prime shushing him in a comforting tone. “Shhh, shh.. I get it. They are aware that you've never been loved like that before, correct? I can't believe they would take advantage of it.”
“I.. I also had a lover once, and I thought they loved me, as you did yours. But they ended up abandoning me, calling me unlovable.” Zandik swore that he heard Prime's voice cracking at the last word. “You, are just like me. I can't stand seeing you get manipulated like this. So, before they hurt you, you should protect yourself. I'm only asking this of you to protect you.” Prime let go of the hug, only to.. lovingly hold his face..?
This was all too much, and Zandik was starting to get affected by it all. Prime opening up to him felt so real, and the look on his face right now.. It was like he was a caring father. “.. But, [Name].. said they love me for who I am.”
Prime caught on the unsure tone in his voice. “Yes.. I get told that as well. It is quite sad, how someone can say they love you and turn around to stab you in the back.” he had a sad, melancholic look on his face with each word he spoke. “But me, I created you. You are much like a son to me. I love you, so I'm doing this for your own good. You understand, right?”
Prime caressed his cheek, wiping the tear that escaped Zandik's eye away. He weakly nodded. It all started to make sense to him now. Of course, Prime would know better.. He was just too blind to see the truth that was infront of him. Prime smiled at that nod. “Good, good.. so, I trust that you'll make the right decision?” He bended down to grab the knife that was dropped previously, and placed it in Zandik's hands once more.
“..Yes. I understand.”
———————
Zandik stood by the tree you two usually meet at. The knife was hidden away in one of his pockets. His face was serious, looking down at the floor. He was thinking about all the time you two had spent together, and he had to hold back the tears forming in his eyes. How was he so stupid to think that someone could actually love him?
“Zandik!”
His head shot up, seeing you walk over while waving enthusiastically. You had your usual smile plastered on your face. He bit his lip, starting to feel nervous. You quickly caught on to this. “Zandik? Is something wrong?”
All the emotion he was holding back came rushing out of him in that moment. If you really didn't love him, why did you have to pretend? If you didn't love him, why? Why do you always smile at him, why were you always worried about him?
Why? Why, why why, why?
Why does it hurt so much..?–
Zandik was caught up in his own thoughts. It was all a blur, and he could barely register what was happening anymore. It was so foggy, all of it. And him having you pinned down on the ground, knife barely hovering over you, he didn't mean that. He swears to himself, he didn't do that, so why were you in that situation now..
His thoughts were all getting too loud.
“Ugh- Shut up! Shut up, shut up shut up..! It's all so annoying, just stop!” Zandik used his free hand to grip onto his hair, not even noticing the tears streaming down his face. You were currently pinned down, obviously confused as to what was happening. Your heart was racing. You didn't know what to do, but you did know that Zandik wasn't okay. Your zandik wasn't okay.
You shakingly moved your hand up, holding his face, and wiping his tears. “Zandik.. It's okay.” You comforted him, and your voice was barely above a whisper. If it were from fear or something else, you didn't know.
Perhaps that was the wrong move, because that caused Zandik to spiral even more. “Stop, stop pretending like you care about me!”
......
Blood.
It was mixing in with the snow beneath you two.
The whiteness of the snow was getting tainted with dark red.
What happened..? Why? Why was blood spreading?
Zandik snapped back to his senses, realizing the reality of the situation. He acted without thinking.
His hand was gripping the base of the knife. The knife that he had stabbed into you.
Without thinking, he quickly pulled it out, and pressed a hand against the stab wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “No, no, no, I didn't do this, i- I just.. Shit! [Name], please, I didn't want this, I didn't! I just wanted to be loved–” He choked out a sob, his vision blurring from all the tears. “I just wanted to believe that you love me! Why..” As the blood was gushing out, he pressed his hand down harder and flinched hard when you winced in pain.
He looked up at your face. The face that he loved so much, and he realized what he had done.
No.. but, it was for the better, right..? You were lying to him, right? Right?
“Zandik.. I.. I don't really understand.. anything right now..” Your voice was weak and horse, and you had to cough multiple times, practically coughing up blood. “but I.. I really do.. love you..” You weakly grabbed onto the hand that was pressing down on you, softly holding his hand in yours. You mustered up a smile despite the excruciating pain. “I.. love you, for.. who you are..”
“..what?”
When the hand atop of Zandik's grew limp, and he saw your eyes dull right there infront of him, it was like time had stopped.
When he looked into your eyes losing it's shine, all the memories came flashing back into his head. All of it.. From the first time you met, to when you explained what love was to him, your first kiss, all those hours spent together..
All of it.. wasn't fake. They were genuine, they were real.
Oh.
What consisted next, was him screaming your name until his throat couldn't take it anymore. Hugging your body against his, even if your blood was getting on his clothes, he didn't care. Zandik had never sobbed before. Not like this. Apologies were given to you, so many of them, but no amount of I'm sorry's could bring you back to him.
And in that moment, Zandik understood why he hated himself so much in the first place.
He knew he was worse than a defect.
And he knew that nothing in his life made sense anymore.
He carried your body, and layed it down against the tree. He tried his absolute best to clean you up, so that it would look like you were just asleep. Peacefully at rest.
He sat down next to you, kissing the top of your head. “[Name].. I love you too. I'm sorry.” he could barely get the words out from how overused his throat was.
He took one final look at you before glancing down at the knife in his hands. The knife he used to take your precious life away.
“Let's meet again in our next life.”
——————
Prime, going over to check on the segment he manipulated last night: Let's go see if he killed that distraction! ^_^ Oh what the fuck
Authors note:
So.... I'm sorry. Please don't attack me for this!!!! This was my plan since the start. Also, apologies for the late update! Life has been kinda hectic lately, but I finally found time to upload the last part! T_T
Honestly, I feel kinda bad for ending it like this... I am so sorry everyone.. Even though I was the one that wrote this all, I'm still rather sad.
Everything prime said to Zandik, it was all practically a lie to manipulate him so that he'd kill you with no protests. Seems like it backfired? 😓
Maybe if I feel nice, I can write an alternative ending? (if u guys are interested, just lmk!)
Thank you so much for all the support throughout this short series. All your comments mean the world to me! 💕
Thank you for reading until the end.
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