#narcissism of small differences | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

Yandere Cult Leader! Headcanons

Warnings: Toxic Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Delusions of Grandeur, Narcissism, Manipulation, Indoctrination, Implications of Smut, Implications of Sexual Coercion, Kidnapping, False Imprisonment, Implication of Murder, Implications of Torture, Implication of Sexual Punishment/Reward, Implications of Pregnancy (Not of Reader), Poisoning, Stockholm Syndrome, Religious Themes, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he sees you for the first time, a quiver in your walk and your voice as you explain to him that your car just swerved into a tree, seemingly of its own accord, leaving you with no means of transportation, knows there is something different about you. Almost whimsical.

♡ Something that makes his stone heart stammer.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you shamble up to his front doorstep and plead for help, welcomes you with open arms into his house – the only one for miles – and tells you to “Take a seat. Please, make yourself comfortable !”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, after finding out that you’re unfamiliar with the area, that you’re not privy to where anything or anyone is, hence you didn’t see whatever caused your car to swerve, can’t help but feel something hidden, dark, light up in the back of his mind.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who insists you “Stay the night; we’d be more than happy to have you !” And actively resists your declination, your promise that you’ll “Be fine if I can get to a hospital.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader whose only elaboration on who “we” are comes in the form of taking you out the back of the house, which now you see is more like a manor, the front of the architecture being deceptively small and mousy, where, as far as the eye could see, a town slept. One filled with people – hundreds, it seemed – dressed in clothing so similar to one another that they formed a moving pattern.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, despite knowing there are always vacant houses available for any ‘late comers’ to his Association, tells you otherwise – that you will be “Staying with me.” Just until you’re better. Or the next morning, at the very least.

♡ With no phone signal and a growing headache, throupled with your limp, you feel you have little chance of survival out on the open road; especially at night.

♡ And, with what you suspect to be a concussion and no room to argue given how far from anything and everything you were, you accepted what you thought was a gracious offer.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader knows he has to act fast – while you’re still vulnerable and malleable.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he has one of his associates draw you a bath, takes your clothes and puts them somewhere only he knows, providing you with clothes of the same material and disposition as everyone else at the compound town.

♡ “For your comfort,” he says, smiling vaguely. “Those city garments looked awfully dirty and uncomfortable – especially since you’ve just had a nasty accident.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you ask for an ambulance, does one better, bringing you the ‘in-house doctor’ who tells him exactly what he wants to hear. That you’ll “Need to rest for the next week or so, just to be safe.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who thanks whatever deity aside from himself exists who has gifted him such a lenient timeframe to grant you ascension into his Family.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, standing just outside your guest bedroom, can’t help but smile, knowing that a week alone with you will be a cakewalk. He’s converted people in a single night before now. Albeit through practices he just can’t bring himself to use on you. Not in isolation, anyway.

♡ Despite the unfamiliar sense of urgency that twists his heart in directions it has never known.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who wastes no time in spinning a frivolous, magnificent story for you, proclaiming himself the mayor of this small, humble town, made up of hard-working folk – farmers, labourers, clothes makers; people who were driven from the city after industrialisation made it impossible for them to financially support themselves.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who revels in the way your eyes glimmer when he divulges his accolades to you, though does so with the modesty of one who sees it as their everyday life. Yet, he knows he has not captured your adoration yet. Another idol lives in your heart; a pop star, a film actor, a god of some description. Not him.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who promises to stamp this out of you. In time.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, in the couple of days after you arrived, commits every ounce of his free time to getting to know you, to understanding what makes you tick, what makes you submissive.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, being the only one in the Compound to understand your culture references outside of this town, having access to sources his Family does not, uses all his knowledge to create an image of himself as a relatable, well-adjusted member of society. Both yours, and his.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader can see you’re becoming more comfortable with him the longer he spends in your presence. And he picks up on your body language to know when you want to be left alone, when you want to speak with him, when you’re starting to feel uncomfortable for one reason or another, and acts accordingly.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you start to ask if you’ll be able to leave soon, knows what must be done.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader understands that, to create the perfect disciple, one must first give them the illusion of choice, and the illusion that, when given the chance to leave, they are making the right choice by deciding to stay.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader no longer accosts you when you go to leave the house anymore, instead feeding into your little fantasy that “You’re looking a lot healthier now ! I think you’re almost fully healed.” Even getting the doctor to confirm his false pleasantry musings.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, from the top floor of his sprawling manor, watches you interact with his Family. You’re so easy to track even without his assigned Protectors following you. You stick out with your mannerisms, your smile fresh and not derived from worship of him, but a million other things running through your mind.

♡ You’re a challenge. Oddly resilient to his attempts to charm you as not to want to spend every waking second in his presence as his disciples do. Then again, you’re much more strong-willed than them. Have something to live for.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, despite his goal of initiating as many people into his Family as he can, can’t deny that the more he knows about you – what little information you divulge to this perfect stranger – he feels…drawn to you. In the same way his disciples are to him.

♡ This, he cannot allow. Though he does humour this schoolboy feeling of his interest piquing, his heart fluttering whenever you laugh at his jokes, or relay something to him he never knew before.

♡ Sure, maybe he’s only known you for about a week at this point, but he knows potential when he sees it.

♡ And he’s seen it in you.

♡ Now it’s just a case of getting you – and it – to conform to his will.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, just like whenever he’s feeling overwhelmed or needs to dispel energy of a most nefarious nature, beds his willing disciples – those he knows will not say no, who will gladly take his seed, those who will bear him the fruits of his labour.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader lives for validation, and he’s essentially created his own serotonin farm to stroke his ego whenever he feels it deflating.

♡ And nothing makes Yandere Cult Leader’s ego swell more than seeing the women of his town with his children, knowing that they shall be his successors, the ones to continue his legacy, or fall into his personal army if they are too weak in the mind to take up his mantle.

♡ And that, he knows, is the root of all power. His power, at least.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he realises that people will start looking for you soon, decides to take matters into his own hands. He won’t let anyone take you from him. Not when there’s still so much he has to show you – to teach you.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who fabricates your demise – an unfortunate car accident – sacrificing one of his family collective to take your place in the car, similar to you in every aspect in your physicality; your hair colour, your height, your eyes. And the parts that can’t be faked – moles, tattoos, patches – he has his associates cover up with a fire sparked when the oil leaked into the car engine.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, in the meantime, starts thinking of ways to keep you inside – to stop you from seeing anyone else besides him, from potentially escaping.

♡ That, and he underestimated your likeability, noticing his disciples beginning to take to you with something akin to haste. Something akin to that which he felt for you.

♡ Attraction.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who sees this liking displayed when everyone is gathered in the hall for his talks, wherein he sees the odd person or two talking with you during his speeches. Something unheard of – straight-up forbidden – until now.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader decides not to punish you for this transgression. After all, you’re new ! You don’t know how everything works here (he’s made sure of that). But the initiator…

♡ Yandere Cult Leader makes sure they learn their lesson – a little etiquette in obedience. And you won’t be seeing them again for a while.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader doesn’t just see you as a distraction for himself anymore, but a potential weapon against his power.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader isn’t stupid. On the contrary, he’s entirely lucid and knows exactly what you’d call his little establishment. A cult. A blasphemy of heretics.

♡ And he can’t have you blabbing your mouth – as much as he loves hearing you tell him stories – to the wrong people. Or realising what you’ve been roped into.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader takes your health into his hands and begins adding a secret ingredient to your meals. One which is tasteless, scentless, yet weakens you with each passing day.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, now having the excuse to do so, rarely lets you out of the house (not that you can leave, anyway) insisting that you aren’t well enough to do so.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader makes sure he’s your main source of care and entertainment during your time of declining health.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader uses your weakened, bed-ridden state to feed you more glorious tales of his philanthropy and godliness. And you, with little else to do – little else you can do – listen. And believe.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, as the weeks go on, can see that the defiance in your eyes, the initial hesitation and wariness you displayed in your first days here, is starting to fade, along with any fight or hope you have of ever leaving this place.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader feels his heart clamour when you request his presence, an associate of his coming to retrieve him from his office on the rare day he isn’t there to care for you himself.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he can see you’re particularly pained, looks over his shoulder and, as if he’s letting you in on a secret, flashes you a smile.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader calls you his “Special little Lamb. My Saint,” and gets up, locking the bedroom door, returning to your bedside.

♡ His hand slips beneath the bed sheets, finding your thigh. First, with reassurance. Then, with something else. Hunger. Promise.

♡ And you, in your state of delirium, either cannot or choose not to resist as his hand travels further beneath your night shirt, creeping ever closer to your epicentre. All the while, he’s crawling on top of you, an archway to another world. A cage.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader tells you to “Keep quiet. We don’t want the others getting jealous now.”

♡ And all the while, as he’s taking care of you, making you gasp, too feeble to even make a sound, he tells you how he thinks “The Gods will heal you, if only you acknowledged them.” His gaze turns hard. There is no humour, no levity, within him. “Join them.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, one evening, when he’s at your bedside, after months of his attempts to break you, feels his heart soar when you tell him you “Want to become part of the Family.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader can’t tell if he’s eventually gotten through to you, either with his promises of restoration or his nights of gratification, but he sees your conformity as loyalty. Finally.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, seeing that he has you in his iron grip, ceases his poisoning and begins work on your ascension. Immediately.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, as your condition begins to improve, tells you that you are to become his ‘special assistant’ – an occupation everyone in his town would kill and die for.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader whose articulation of what ‘special assistant’ means comes in the form of a collar.

♡ And not just any collar. A shock collar.

♡ Not that you know this. Yet.

♡ yandere Cult Leader who, when you’re able to stand, move, and even participate in everyday activities, has your ‘coronation’ organised. A celebration (and display of ownership_ of you and all that you will be bringing to the Family.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who watches everyone’s reactions carefully, picking out those who showed doubt, even a sliver, and those who seemed overly-accepting of your presence.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, that night, as you went to go to your room, pulled you into his, locking the door behind him.

♡ “An assistant as special as yourself can’t be expected to sleep all by their lonesome,” he tells you, his hand on yours. Iron.

♡ “Not when it’s my job to serve you.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader is a master manipulator. A lucid one at that. Though, his narcissism clouds his sense of self.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, that night, takes you for the first time, deeming it to be the claiming ceremony’ – one which has been a tradition since the inception of the Association.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader convinces you that this is the right thing to do, regardless of how much you want to do it.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who doesn’t stop until he sees every ounce of resistance leave your eyes, and not just towards his advances. Extending far beyond tonight – into the rest of your life as you come to accept that this is your fate, one spent with a demon in a god’s clothing.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader uses sexual gratification as a motivator (or punishment) depending on your behaviour.

♡ If you do something that displeases him, that risks making him lose face if only for a second, he can be vile. Promising the most promiscuously torturous and painful outcomes should you defy his word again.

♡ Such motivators of these punishments can be as simple as wanting to take a walk outside the Compound, asking him a question about the Uncaring Outside, or not doing what he asks of you immediately after he’s told you what he wants.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader is most unkind when he is displeased. And he’ll let you know how easily replaceable you are, how quickly he can find a willing body to take your place in his bed at a moment’s notice.

♡ And you know he’s right. That’s why you obey like you do, why you take the slings and arrows your existence is heir to now, why you plead and beg and cry that you’d “Do better next time ! Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry–”

♡ However, if you have displayed good behaviour, he’ll call you by any name you want to hear – “Sweetheart”, “Darling”, “Angel” – anything that reinforces your perceived importance to the Cult Leader.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader has you glued to his side forevermore. Anyone who tries tot ake you from him is deftly dealt with. Which is why you never see the people who’ve come searching for you, who stumbled upon the leader’s human enclosure as you had. Albeit with less guidance from the Leader.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader promises you that “Nobody out There loves you as much as I do. If they did, they’d have come to join you, wouldn’t they ?”

♡ God forbid if you disagree. The Leader didn’t groom you to be opinionated; he tamed you into his pet.

♡ And if you ever want a fighting chance of escaping this place alive, you have to make him believe that you’re dedicated to nothing but him.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

2K notes · View notes

hillbillyoracle · 1 year

Text

For those with home related New Years Resolutions:

I’ve been a disabled homemaker for 5 years now so I wanted to share the resources that have helped me take our home from complete chaos to reasonably functional and enjoyable.

If you’re not functioning...

If you’re constantly tripping over things and getting injured, eating food that makes you sick, dealing with pests in the home, and struggling to complete basic tasks like feeding, clothing, and bathing yourself, then you should start with...

KC Davis aka StruggleCare aka DomesticBlisters

TikTok

Book

Podcast

Website

I recommend KC Davis’s stuff with a big heaping dose of “keep what works and leave what doesn’t.” She’s one of the few people I’ve seen talking about compassionate care focused on maintaining a level of personal functioning rather than maintaining a home. Her stuff has been very helpful to me during some very challenging times.

I think her some of her best work is probably her videos on the 5 step tidying process, the ones on setting up bedside hygiene and food kits, and the ones on dealing with DOOM (Didn’t Organize Only Moved) boxes.

That being said she has a tendency to use neurotype as a shield for not reckoning with other dynamics in a situation (gendered, narcissism, etc) when asked for advice by viewers which can lead to this “all people with neurodivergence are good” vibe which I find off putting (especially as an autistic person). I mention it because her bleh stuff was all I was coming across and I missed out on her good stuff for a while. It’s worth picking through though.

Her book is a little better on the whole.

If you’re functioning but still very overwhelmed...

If you can complete your daily activities of living pretty regularly but you’re still losing papers you need, rebuying items you didn’t realize you had, or looking around your home at a mess that feels impossible to clean, then check out...

Dana K White aka A Slob Comes Clean

YouTube

Website

Podcast

Books

I love Dana K. White’s stuff. Honestly, I recommend her to every level on this list but I think she probably shines brightest in this category.

Her 5 step decluttering process is pure fucking gold. It’s a decluttering process that doesn’t rely on feelings at all - really helpful for those with trauma or alexthymia generally. She has multiple videos explaining it and even more where you can watch her go step by step with someone over the course of an hour and make a huge dent in some very overwhelming mess. Its the process I’ve used to go through over 50 moving boxes to declutter so we could fit in this much smaller space we moved to in April.

Her day to day cleaning advice is also excellent. Her concept of dishes math has really helped me make decisions about what chores to focus on when I’m low energy. Her 14 Days to Opening Your Front Door series is amazing if you’re having to host for a given occasion but your home is a wreck.

If you’re not painfully overwhelmed by your stuff but there’s still a lot of friction in your home...

If your stuff doesn’t overwhelm you but your home still doesn’t feel that good to be in, you’re still not finding things when you need to or it’s taking you a long time to find them, you create homes for things but they look terrible or they never seem to stick, then you’d love...

Cassandra Aarssen aka Clutterbug

YouTube

Books

Website

Podcast

Clutterbug types were kind of a game changer for me. It’s what really opened my eyes to why the systems that worked for me did not work for my partner. She is a Bee - lots of small categories that are all very visible - and I am a ladybug - big bucket categories that aren’t visible. When I reorganized our space according to the compromise between our types, Butterfly - big categories and very visible - all of a sudden the systems just worked so much better. There were many fewer fights sparked by things not getting put away or not being able to find things. So I really recommend her videos on the different types and examples of each.

Quick word of warning, she does have regular videos about diet and exercise that I personally find pretty triggering to my disordered eating habits so I’m not subscribed to her and just check her channels every now and then so it’s easier to skip over videos where that might be a topic she talks about.

Cliff Tan aka Dear Modern

TikTok

YouTube

Website

Book

Cliff Tan’s work is the most recent of these resources that I’ve come across but holy shit I cannot recommend it enough.

Because my parents didn’t originally intend on my partner using the room she wound up using, there’s simply not space to keep some of the furniture and items in there anywhere else. Meaning she just kind of has to keep a fair bit of junk in there. But after watching (read: binging) the Dear Modern YouTube channel and seeing him completely change spaces by moving furniture around, I redid my partners room over the course of about 2 hours and it’s a completely different room. Way more comfortable and she’s already mentioned she’s getting much better sleep.

So I really really recommend his stuff. Sometimes what you really need isn’t new stuff but just rearranging what you already have.

If you’re pretty content with your home but want to streamline the process of caring for it...

If your home is pretty functional but regular tidying, deep cleaning, and maintenance tasks specifically keep falling through the cracks, then you might like...

FlyLady System

Website

The Secret Slob - YouTube

Diane in Denmark - YouTube

There are lots of systems out there for house keeping but I’ve yet to try or see one that seems to do better than FlyLady for me. Since with my illness my energy varies wildly, I don’t necessarily do things when her system recommends but I do them according to the priority her system ascribes to them as I’m able.

FlyLady is a notoriously convoluted website so I really recommend learning from a secondhand source. The Secret Slob and Diane in Denmark are my favorites.

Maintenance Lists

This Old House

There a lots of maintenance lists out there and honestly finding one and doing what you can is better than nothing. I personally like the ones from This Old House because they’re broken up into annual, seasonal, monthly, and some weekly tasks - which are essentially priority categories, similar to FlyLady. I’ve linked the winter one here but there are many others to pick through depending on what you want to work on.

Bonus: Paper Clutter

My System

Link

This is what I’ve arrived at after years of experimentation. It’s an amalgam of a few different ideas from different systems in one place. I keep mind on my fridge but put yours where ever you’re dumping paper anyways. If you’re in a room or live in a car/backpack - I have ideas on how to organize it for those in this post too.

Sunday Basket

YouTube Video

The Minimal Mom’s Video

She’s in Her Apron Video

Need something a little more robust? The Sunday Basket is probably be best version of a paper (and other stuff) system I’ve seen. Got something that needs dealt with? Chuck it in the Sunday Basket. The creator also has videos on long term paper storage ideas if that’s something you need as well. But her videos usually run an hour long so I recommend starting with either the Minimal Mom’s video or She’s in Her Apron’s video.

Bonus: Digital Clutter

PARA System/Building a Second Brain by Tiago Forte

YouTube Channel

Website

Book

Essential Video

The branding on this system can be very productivity tech wonk which is off putting to me but when I finally started hearing what was at the core of it and applying it - my digital life was changed. I’ve linked my absolute favorite video he’s done here. Ignore the bit about it being the last in the series, most of us are already using some note app and if you like it you can always go back and watch the rest. But just applying what’s in that video to your digital systems will make things easier to find.

Hope this helps someone out there!

#homemaking #housekeeping #getting your shit together #organizing #adulting #life skills #home #decluttering #studyblr

2K notes · View notes

sjyuns · 8 months

Text

🗒️ 、 SUGARCOAT

bad boy heeseung x fem reader 1036 words warnings cursing genre fluff listen sugarcoat ( natty ) mikaela’s note sorry for the spam, i’m clearing drafts

There are 171,476 words in the english language, but you could never string any of them together to explain how much you wanted to hit Lee Heeseung with a chair, against his head (hopefully splitting it open). Because he’s being extremely difficult at the moment — not like he ever was not.

“Can you not shut up for one fucking minute? You’re giving me a headache,” you groan, eyes rolling before you shoot a sharp glare at the purple haired boy, “just because a blueberry vomited on your head, doesn’t give you the right to be a whiny brat.”

He scoffs, and takes a step closer to you, eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips. It distracts you — his gaze, and you can feel your body heat up. He’s attractive; with his bambi eyes that held a contrasting devilish stare that hypnotises, his tall figure, muscular build, and that dark purple hair of his, which you hate to admit, suited him so well.

Heeseung looked like a corrupt angel, almost supernaturally handsome, and he was unnervingly unforgettable.

The task at hand long forgotten as you held his dead stare, and you cursed him in your mind over and over again. Who knew that one simple agreement to meet your father’s coworker’s family would lead you to him — the absolute bane of your existence.

“Hate me so much, sweetheart? The door’s right there,” he smirks, crystal eyes like gin and as pretty as sin, “leave, and you lose.” And it was like he knew what irked you because you weren’t ever one to back down from a challenge, even more if you were losing to Lee Heeseung, who only in your third time meeting him, managed to wring out every single drop of patience in your being. “Called it that you won’t ever be able to handle me.”

You heave a burdened sigh, eye filtering through the different stores in the empty mall, before fixing your eyes on the arcade. Without a second thought, you reach out to grab his hand, your eyes doe as you give him a sharp glare, as if challenging him to go against you.

“You need me here, Lee Heeseung, or how will you ever prove to your parents that you’re a so-called changed man,” you grin, pulling him over to a claw machine situated at the entrance of the arcade.

There’s an unexplainable feeling sitting uncomfortably in Heeseung’s chest as he stares at your figure; you were the kind of girl boys would swoon over, with silky hair, bedroom eyes, and cheeks like wine, your beauty was intimidating yet you smelt like white roses and had a voice of honey. And he thinks that as much as you’re different from the other girls he’s been with, he won’t think of you, he wouldn’t allow himself to.

“Get me that doll,” you say blandly, finger pressing against the glass casing of the claw machine as you point to a deer soft toy.

Heeseung scoffs at your demanding tone, “a deer?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together, “didn’t think you’d like deers, thought you’d be more of a cat person.”

The nerve of this boy, you think, face morphing into one of judgement, “what do you even know about me, Lee?” you say, watching Heeseung’s eyes glisten with competitiveness as he fixated on the small brown soft toy. “Plus, it kind of looks like you.”

“Ew, you think I'm cute?” He throws out and you’re shocked at his narcissism.

“No, it’s ugly. You’re ugly,” you reply, and god is that a big fat lie. Because the last word you’d use to describe Lee Heeseung, with his egotistical personality sugarcoated in glorified looks would be ‘ugly’.

He smirks as he bends down, face excruciatingly close to yours as his sinfully intoxicating aura encases you, “really sweetheart?” he asks, before his gaze drops down to your lips, “then why are you so red?”

Your palms push against his chest, eyes darting everywhere but Heeseung’s face which held a winner’s smirk, “just get me the fucking toy,” you mutter. He chuckles softly at your embarrassed state before he shifts his focus back onto clawing the soft toy.

And you aren’t surprised that it takes him less than three tries to successfully grab it — in fact you weren’t ever surprised at Heeseung’s excellence, because you knew that despite the arrogance that lined him, he was talented.

“Happy?” Heeseung questions as he looks at your elated expression, as you tightly grip the small soft toy in your hands, gazing at it adoringly. “You ever going to pay me back?”

There it is again, and you think there isn’t one full moment where he can shut up.

“You’re asking me to pay on our second date, Lee? That’s almost romantic,” you scoff, “the blueberry juice must have really seeped through your roots into your empty brain. Just as I was about to thank you for this adorable toy too.”

“Adorable? I thought you said it was ugly like me?” he swivels his body to face you, “you think i’m cute, pretty girl?”

“As cute as the disney troll that pissed on your hair,” you bite back, rolling your eyes as you quicken your step.

The expression on your face loosens when you’re sure Heeseung cannot see it, as you fight back a smile presented to you by the awfully interesting boy who makes your heart tremble at just the thought of him.

“Next week, same time,” Heeseung shouts at your disappearing figure, an unfiltered smile plastered on his face, “don’t forget, pretty girl.” And it’s a whole new sensation for him; to want to see you again even though you’ve just left.

You fall asleep with the bambi soft toy pressed firmly against the flesh of your cheeks, and you can’t help but let out soft giggles at the simple thought of the boy who looked like a fallen angel and handsome devil all at once, a boy named Lee Heeseung who calls you disgustingly domestic nicknames that your heart can’t help but flutter at the sound of. Lee Heeseung who — though is conceited and prideful, listens to your every word like it’s the most interesting thing on earth.

#⪩⪨ mikaela's #enhypen #enhypen oneshots #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung soft hours #heeseung drabbles #heeseung headcanons #heeseung oneshots #kpop fluff #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines

766 notes · View notes

mamani-bento · 5 months

Text

what you're willing to give (satoru gojo)

satoru gojo x reader, 1.3k, gender not mentioned

fwb!gojo + 'if we get caught kissing in a small, dark, kind of shady alleyway, it's on you.' from this prompt list, highly suggestive making out + fluff + humour (?)

summary - gojo wants more. you want more. the only difference is that he can admit it, but he likes you enough to wait until you can too.

minors do not interact!

i wrote this and i'm sooooooo at his characterisation here, this goes under fics-that-are-SO-well-set-up-for-a-sequel i'm a genius sometimes, fwb!gojo has not left my head since i read this incredible fic by @staryukis

mamani-bento's masterlist!

gojo doesn't understand why you're complaining, honestly.

okay, he sort of does, but he doesn't understand why you're still complaining.

"do you want to stop?"

your answer takes a bit longer to emerge, and gojo can't help the smug grin against the side of your neck. he continues to nip and lave at your skin, paying special attention to a slowly-forming bruise near your jugular as he waits for your response.

"stop–ah!–stop fucking smiling."

gojo does not stop smiling, but he does lay off your neck, moving his lips upwards and catching your swollen ones with a low chuckle instead.

"so mouthy," he mumbles into shared breath, delighting in the reactionary tightening of your clenched fists in his hair. he can't help the groan he lets out at the feeling, and his large palm grips harder at the plump flesh of your thigh hooked over his hip. his body presses further into your front, pushing you against the wall. his long fingers curl at your scalp and he can feel the scrape of uneven stone against the back of his hand.

sighing pants and moaned kissing fill the dark alley behind the pub. gojo loves his friends, he really does, but he can't possibly be expected to pay attention to them inside when you're wearing that.

"i didn't think this would do it for you," you airily breathe out as gojo lets your leg down, groping at the flesh of your ass instead.

he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, revelling in the gasp he's rewarded with. "liar," he mutters, no real heat behind his words. "you absolutely knew that this would do it for me."

he could die with the sound of your giggle in his ear and he'd be happy as a clam. he's been feeling like he could die a lot this evening, ever since you entered in that outfit and made him nearly choke on air at the sight.

you trace kisses down the long column of his neck, and his eyes flutter shut at the pleasure. he gives your ass one last squeeze, large palms smoothing over the thin fabric of your panties, before he finally moves his hand out of your tiny skirt.

you had come to the halloween party dressed as him and it makes his head spin every time he thinks about it. the only modification you've made is the pants, traded in for a similarly navy skirt that shows off the plush of your thighs, and sheer stockings that end just below the hemline. he's very thankful for that skirt, very grateful for the access it's giving him to feel you up as he pleases.

and maybe, maybe, he should be a little concerned at what this means for his narcissism, that the sight of you like this, like him, is having such a profound effect. but all he can really think about is your teeth scraping against the underside of his jaw, your hands now tugging at the collar of his blue button-up, your skin moulding under the greedy kneading of his palms as he moves to your hips.

"where's your tie?" you manage to ask as you pull away, as if just realising that he's missing an integral part of his outfit.

"at home," he says, opening his eyes to look at you looking at him. your costume blindfold rests on your forehead, messily bunched up from all the movement, giving him the full effect of your partly disappointed expression.

your fingers fiddle with his undone top button. "would've liked if you had a tie," you mumble, almost complainingly.

he knows you're lying, fully certain that this halfway nanami-cosplay he's got going on is also doing it for you if your enthusiastic participation is anything to go by. and maybe, maybe, he left the tie out just so he could have a reason to get you in his house. he likes to pretend sometimes that he still has to convince you to spend nights with him. likes to act as though he's perpetually on a quest to win your affections, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

"come over. help me put it on."

the streetlight from the main road filters into the alley and the music from the building you're both leaning against is muffled and you look so thoroughly debauched with your lips swollen and your face flushed and your chest heaving, and all gojo can really register is the feeling of your body against his.

this is the only way he can have you. too risky to be in a relationship but not to fall into bed with each other at every social gathering, to ignore your colleagues and make out in the alleyway like teenagers. he knows, he knows, that something will give. he's largely stopped trying to hide how much he cares for you behind this dance of 'come over' and 'are you awake?', but your walls are so high, every brick laid by the fear of both being with somebody and being somebody who might not make it back home after a mission. until he can break them down, he'll take what he can get, what you're willing to give him.

"you planned that line?" you scoff with a shocking perceptiveness. or not that shocking. for somebody who claims to not care, you pay an awful lot of attention to his mannerisms outside bed. he'll wait for you to admit it to yourself.

he moves closer, thick arm familiarly winding around your waist until he can feel the ghost of your deep breaths fanning over his already lonely lips. "don't tell me you wore that and expected this to not happen tonight."

the silence is deafening in the wake of his low accusation. you can't deny it, of course you can't deny it. you know that your cherry lip gloss drives him crazy, that the sight of your thighs moving in those translucent silky stockings is enough to wind him up, that he's got an ego for days and seeing you dressed like him is basically heaven. you could've gone as anybody. shoko's only rule was to dress up as another teacher, she didn't specify anything about your-fuckbuddy-that-you're-pretending-to-not-have-a-thing-for.

his gaze shoots to your mouth as your teeth worry your lower lip, and he'd really like you to say something now. preferably along the lines of 'you're absolutely right, i'm in this outfit because i want to sleep with you, let's go' , but he knows it'll never be that easy with you.

even as your body presses against his, even as your hands move to play with the hair on the nape of his neck, you ask, "what about the others?"

gojo laughs, a bright thing that pierces the heavy silence of the dark alley. "they should be used to it by now, no? we'll send shoko an apology card in the morning for bailing."

he doesn't mean to push, but you never do anything you don't want to, and past experience tells him that you really want to do him. despite your initial reluctance, you always end up in his bed at the end of the day. despite your stubborn insistence that 'this is the last time' and 'this isn't a thing', it's never the last time and it's definitely a thing. and predictably, he can see your resolve wavering now, like it always does.

"she also deserves flowers, i think."

"sure, we'll send some flowers too," gojo easily acquiesces with a shrug. he'll send shoko a damn car if you ask him to. but he can't say that yet, won't say that until you admit that whatever ineffable instinct keeps pulling you two together runs deeper than back alley make outs and sweaty nights that feel inevitable.

"this is–"

"the last time?" gojo interrupts, unable to stop himself.

he ignores your unimpressed expression in favour of pressing into your hips with his, satisfied with the way wide eyes and a small gasp replaces your flat look. he makes no attempt to hide what you've done to him, what you always seem to be doing to him. he's affected at the best of times, but in this outfit? he never stood a chance. "is that a yes?"

you seem equal parts annoyed and aroused.

just how he likes you.

"shut up," you grouse, tugging at his collar until you're fiercely kissing him again, everything becoming a frenzy that promises to end with your clothes on his floor and your nails running down his back.

if this is what you’re willing to give him for now, he’ll gladly take it. but he wants more, and he knows that you want more, and it’s only a matter of time before something finally gives.

283 notes · View notes

simonalkenmayer · 1 year

Text

For those of you unaware of what is happening in USA politics right now, it’s absolutely historic. This is how the Republican Party began, and this time it’s them collapsing.

The Speaker of the House is third in line for the Presidency. It is an elected position within congress. Often it goes to the majority leader, but the majority leader is Kevin McCarthy. He’s being challenged right now from 20 house members of his own party. Which means that minority leader Hakeem Jeffries has 212 votes out of the 218 necessary, while McCarthy has only 202. If McCarthy cannot get 16 more votes, he cannot become speaker. Hakeem Jeffries is in line to be only the second black speaker in history. It looks as if those 20 will stand their ground. If they continue to hold the election hostage, we cannot place a speaker. Stable republicans might switch sides just to get it over with.

The last time this happened was 1856, when the government collapsed beneath Lincoln. And then yes…SC seceded of course, and but a bit later we began the civil war.

If Hakeem Jeffries flips just 6 republicans, he does something doubly historic and the country, in my opinion, will be much better off. If McCarthy gets 16, he does so at great cost. He’s fucked either way for the duration of his career.

Keep your eyes peeled. They voted 3 times today and adjourned to tomorrow. The record is over 133 votes.

Why am I telling you this?

Narcissistic collapse. Remember I predicted a bit ago that we would begin to see infighting and the narcissism of small differences? Well…they’re all bitching and moaning at each other and bickering over the carving of the carcass and how much they’ll get. They aren’t thinking at all about people. MTG did nothing but bemoan her lack of committees. McCarthy bemoaned his results and claimed he was being unfairly squeezed and so on.

Watch it. See what patterns you notice

1K notes · View notes

nishloves · 8 months

Text

attention; gojo satoru

gojo satoru x f!reader / nsfw drabble / fingering, suggestive

words : 1.1k / masterlist

you were sick of his antics, his narcissism, the way he would cock his head to the side and give you his signature smirk, as if mocking you, calling you weak, asserting how stronger he is than you.

you weren't vain, you accepted when anyone was better than you, but gojo— oh gojo, he could rile you up so easily, too easily, he could even annoy the calmest ocean into wanting to drown him.

"you're just obsessed with me sweetheart, that's why my words annoy you to the core," he grinned, as you almost threatened to throw up at his provoking words; nanami nudging you to calm down and ignore him, because that's something that would actually bother gojo.

not getting the attention.

you made a point to not react to satoru, at all. and this time, he was the annoyed one.

you ignored his remarks of you being too lazy and cooking ramen for lunch, you evaded any question of his which might make you mad, you shrugged off every time satoru called you a "shortie" and you incessantly disregarded his stares when you were too touchy with some of his peers, laughing with them, giving them all your undivided attention.

satoru could only try to burn your back with his deadly stares, with his jealousy and how effortlessly you smiled with some guys who didn't even spend as much time with you as he did.

you swayed your hips as you walked to the training grounds, ignoring his unsought help, ignoring his guides and hints for close combat.

it wasn't until you felt his hands on your hips which were correcting your improper stance that you actually listened to him.

"now that's right baby, this would reduce your chances of injury."

you seethed when he called you baby, baby like he calls everyone; "baby" in a way he treats every other pretty lady.

your punch went flying towards his face as he caught your fist in his huge hands, his strength incomparable to yours.

"slow down there, you don't wanna ruin my beautiful face with your punch, do you?" he grinned as his other hand slid down your waist, his thumb caressing the small area of skin visible under the dark jacket.

you hated how electric his touch felt, you hated how you squirmed under his grasp, you hated the way his fingers clasped your hand.

"what do you want, satoru?" you hissed, but your voice was softer than you intended it to be.

"is this how ya treat your upperclassmen?" gojo's brow cocked up, a small smile lingering on his face; until your phone rang and he saw the name of the guy you were hanging out with more these past days.

you sighed as your hands left his grasp and travelled in your skirts' pocket, "let me get that," you whispered but, satoru definitely had other plans.

he snatched the phone from your hands, eliciting an annoyed whine out of you as you tip-toed to reach your phone, "don't be a baby satoru!" you cried, as you jumped to get your phone.

satoru held you down though, not letting you take your phone, "nuh-uh, stop being desperate."

"what do you mean by that?"

"are ya going out with him? if not, he can certainly wait for you to call you back," satoru spoke, a different tone evident in his usually easy-going voice.

"i'm not going out with him!" you responded, your face frowning as you calmed yourself down, repeating nanami's words in your head, the more angry you look, the more pleased he will be.

"you're interested in him?"

"no!" you retorted, pulling his jacket down and successfully taking your phone away, but the call had ended quite a while ago.

"what if it was important?" you whined, still not calling your friend back.

"then he'll call again," satoru asserted.

"what's your problem?"

"you're ignoring me."

"I'm not? i wouldn't be talking to you if I was," you reasoned, knowing full well you were lying through your teeth.

"you're not fully ignoring me, you're just ignoring me," he whined back, leaning towards you.

"and what if you have my full attention?" you asked, a sudden boldness creeping up to you as you moved closer to satoru.

"i would feel good."

you were now dangerously close to him.

"why do you want my attention?" you whispered as you leaned closer to him, you on your tip-toes, your lips only inches away from him, making a grin creep its way on satoru's face.

you stepped back as satoru's grin fell.

your smirked as you turned away from him, only for satoru to rush and grab your hand, whisking you towards him as his lips connected with yours, too shocked by his actions your eyes widened, but when his hands enveloped themselves under your hair and angled your neck for a deeper kiss, you gave in. you didn't know but a hot, needy and messy make out session was all you needed.

you groaned as satoru hand travelled up your jacket, resting against your breast as you lightly pushed him towards a bench.

as soon as he sat down on the bench, you pounced on him, your lips latching with his again as you settled yourself on his lap, your skirt hiking up as satoru's arms rested themselves on your now exposed thighs, his lips replicating your intensity.

"didn't think I would receive this kind of attention, princess," satoru spoke as his hands travelled under your skirt and onto your damp panties, his fingers sliding the fabric to the side as he scavenged your insides.

"toru~" you moaned as your hands laid flat against his shoulders, your hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers as your head lolled back, his fingers were so long, so thick and they reached so deep in you—

"toru— i-" you shouldn't do this, not out here in open atleast.

"shh baby, let's take this elsewhere, should we?" satoru whispered in your ear as you bit your lips. your head nodding reluctantly as your eyes peered up at him in anticipation.

you were definitely in for a lot.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu sorcerer #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou saturo #nish x anime #jjk anime #anime #anime smut

266 notes · View notes

seokka0o · 6 months

Text

┈┈┈ ֺ ࣭ 𝔐𝔦𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯 𝔖𝔢𝔵 ࣭ ֺ ┈┈┈

🎃 ᴅᴀʏ 20

ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ sᴇx

Kim Donhyun 🎃 Afab!Reader

Warning: unprotected sex; masturbation; Cumshot ; riding; reverse cowgirl; Doggy style; leehan it's not vocal at all.

Happy birthday Leehan my baby 🥰🥳

English is not my first language, so there may be some grammar errors

Leehan's eyes shined in your direction with false expectation, in fact he is pouring more of his deep desire onto you, as you strain your legs to keep the ride steady, his gaze shifting to the figure facing the mirror, his newest investment, seeing how you always do so well in bed, where Leehan demonstrates his deepest narcissism. Leaning against the headboard of the bed in the mirror. Leehan slid his hand from the base of your back to your ass, which he grabbed, making you moan a little louder this time.

"Are you… really going to worship yourself?" You asked sincerely, you were feeling him slide deeply inside, making your focus lose again, your fingers tightened on your boyfriend's broad shoulders, your head losing all train of thought, your back bending considerably and Leehan laughed softly.

"I'm not looking at myself" he replied calmly, despite his body showing it in other ways, the mask that wanted to fall still paying attention to the way you ride him "I'm looking at you"

Your body let out a sudden shiver, gave in again and then you stopped what you were doing, getting off Leehan to change position and turn to the front, fitting back into him.

"Then let's do it right" you murmured and leaned your body forward, leaving your entire torso on the mattress, only supported by your elbows, you slid your entrance over his cock and then moved your hips again, giving his full attention now just to the mirror, with the force of your hips, began to descend, accelerating again. "Is that b-better?"

Leehan smiled and took his hands to grab you by the ass and begin to help, feeling the total difference of that position, now with his eyes fixed on you completely through the mirror and in front of him, your ass rising and falling making his dick disappear and reappear inside you. The firm grip of his fingers to separate and join your bands and the sighs escaping your lips synchronizing with your sly moans became more persistent.

You felt every inch of him entering, from the effort you were making you knew that your body would give way soon, but you took the necessary time, coming into eye contact with Leehan every now and then when he looked in the mirror, he was extremely casual, but very satisfied with what he was doing. you saw, with all your effort to satisfy him and despite not being so vocal you understood all his mannerisms very clearly. Leehan was losing all his strength, but he would never be able to stop that pace for that reason.

Your body was responding increasingly, that position, despite not having the greatest of skills, still made his dick make movements inside you that were unique to feel and you were even distracted with what you were doing, while his hands Leehan sneaks around the small of your back to hold your hair and lift your head, he always wants to look at you while you cum, it wouldn't be any different this time.

you felt all dripping down both of your bodies, when everything started to grow severely inside you, the sighs being largely replaced by moans on all sides, not the loud types, there was something in that intimacy you had that should belong just you until the last moment, until the last sound that came out. Your torso rose at the first sign of your orgasm, Leehan, who was no longer holding your hair so tightly, let go and helped you lift yourself up by your torso, still with his eyes firmly in the mirror just in front of him, his fingers slid into the middle of your body. your legs just in front, you started to ride faster, he found your clit, starting to circle it in aid, all your strength being renewed in the instant that the peak reached taking the air out of you completely, and then the limit coming in a wave carrying all your strength and despair.

“F-fuck” you sighed and then slowed down but without stopping.

"You did good" he praised removing his hand from between your legs to push your torso to fall back onto the mattress, this time with it rising to stand between your legs, leaving you on all fours for him "just relax now, I I'll do everything for you"

And then you just nodded, you knew he wouldn't stop until he had done his best in front of that mirror, so you let him go, soon Leehan was fucking you again, your entire sensitive body didn't want to accept it at first , but soon the stimulus returned, subliminal, he was fucking you slowly again, so as not to hurt you and when your sounds came out again, he increased the contact, giving small impacts on the bodies, more sighs. The two views in front of the mirror don't even escape Leehan for a second, he always thinks you're beautiful when he's so tired after an orgasm, how you just let him do what he wants without complaining, he likes that.

Leehan increased the speed consecutively, pressing his fingers into your ass he began to pull fast, his system starting to race, Leehan's neck was reddened, if only you could see, when he was reaching his limit, his it also came again, and you needed to concentrate more than you normally do, everything lost control this time, like a runaway train, you were shaking, feeling everything much more intense and at the end of this sensation Leehan jumped out letting everything his liquid runs down your ass and the base of your back, already completely out of breath.

#🕸.spooky0o #boynextdoor hard hours #boynextdoor smut #leehan hard hours #leehan smut

164 notes · View notes

givemea-dam-break · 1 year

Note

May I request a fem reader x Anthony lockwood where reader is a super talented fittes agent who constantly trades barbs with lockwood but he soon realises that she fancies him so he ends up teasing her during missions by doing small stuff like pulling her close and calling here babe when no-one is around

a/n: ahhhhhh this is such a cute idea, yes of course!!! i hope you like it <3 buckle in because this is a long one - which could constitute for a part 2 if anyone wants one lol

warnings: language fem reader (few pronouns used)

part 2

"Don't you get tired of me saving your ass? This is the third time I've done it this week alone."

Anthony Lockwood leans against the partially splintered doorframe of the house he and his team were working on a case in, arms crossed over his chest and smiling proudly as if he wasn't on his back in ghost-lock mere minutes ago. His hair is slightly ruffled, cheeks flushed, but that cocky grin is there despite it all.

"Sometimes I just need reminding that there are scarier things than ghosts," he says.

Bristling a little, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Is that why I see you looking in mirrors so often? I'd chalked it up to narcissism, but, hey, if it's for a reality check instead, who am I to judge?"

His eyes roll, and he makes a sound that's half-scoff and half-laugh. "We would've been fine without your help, just so you know."

"Mm-hmm." You look around the salt-covered kitchen and the tiles that were pried off the wall - by you - that uncovered a hole in the wall containing the source. "So George was looking for the source in the bathroom just because? And Lucy was fighting the second ghost that she herself told me you guys didn't know about? Not to mention you being ghost-locked. To each their own, I suppose."

"At least I looked good doing it. Your uniform is the most boring thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, so you're a fashion expert now?" you ask, placing a hand on your hip. "No offence, Lockwood, but I'd stick to ghost-hunting. You're at least half-decent at that."

Kipps appears down the hallway, pointing to the front door before disappearing, followed by the rest of your team. He's slowly slid out of the role of being the one to provoke Anthony Lockwood, leaving the pleasure solely to you. Not that you're complaining. There's something so enjoyable about riling him up.

Plastering on a too-sweet smile, you say, "It was great seeing you, Lockwood. I'll have fun saving your life again soon."

You push past him through the doorway, stopping just past.

"And, before you comment on my 'boring' uniform, at least try to get your socks and tie to match. Those are two wildly different shades of blue."

You glare at the house towering before you, pissed that you've been sent off on messenger duty not by Fittes, but by DEPRAC. They've got vans and cars and dozens of employees to do their bidding, but old Inspector Barnes has sent you off instead. Maybe as some kind of torture.

Annoyed, you ring the doorbell and wait.

When the door swings open, you're at least grateful that it's Lucy Carlyle that opens it. While she can be quick to anger and is prone to making snide remarks - although you're no better - she's the preferable option. George has a hatred for all Fittes employees and Lockwood... You scowl at the thought of him.

"Oh, (name)," she says, frowning in confusion. "Why are you here?"

You hold the papers out. "DEPRAC lapdog, apparently. I've been sent to give all three of you these NDA letters. They need signing and sent back to DEPRAC."

Lucy takes them gingerly, eyes skirting over the writing. "This is about that case the three of us did in Greenwich?"

"The owner of the National Maritime Museum doesn't want potential customers finding out there were ghosts there, or something," you explain. "I don't know. Barnes caught me on a run earlier and asked me to deliver these."

"Deliver what?"

Scowling, you look over Lucy's shoulder where Lockwood's face has just appeared. Lucy shows him the papers, passing them over and crossing her arms as she explains what you've just said.

Lockwood frowns, looking at you as if it's your fault.

"Barnes has got you on a lead, huh?"

"You calling me a dog, Lockwood? I don't think you want to see how you'll end up after that."

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "I would never do that. You know me. Besides, you're not wearing your signature grey today, so you don't even look like a staffy."

It's at that moment that Lucy slips away, taking the papers with her.

"I'm in no mood for you today," you say. "I've not even been back to my place, so I'm all sweaty from my run and in need of a shower. Barnes has sent me here because he and his lackeys can't get off their arses. And, to top it off, my favourite café ran out of the coffee I like. So, I advise you to pack it in, or I'll be arrested for trespassing and assault."

"There will be no need for that," he promises. "Do you want to come in for that coffee you so desperately want? George is quite adept at making good coffee."

"Even if I wanted to step foot in your house, which I don't, George would probably poison my drink, so no, thanks."

For a moment, he's quiet, as if trying to think of some way to insult you. Then, he says, "I admit, I thought Barnes would've sent Kipps. Maybe even Kat. But not you."

You cross your arms, the cold air nipping your bare arms. You hadn't thought to bring a jumper with you. "Like I said to Lucy, Barnes caught me while I was on my run. I think he was going to head here himself, but decided he liked seeing your faces even less than I do and sent me on my way. Pig."

Lockwood breathes a laugh like he's hesitant to really laugh in front of you. He leans against the doorframe. "Are you sure you don't want to come in for a moment? You're shivering, and it's cold out."

"I'm more than sure." You peek past him, eyeing the clutter and the hint of a collapsed pile of clothes in one of the rooms with disdain. "I need to get back anyways. The sight of you is making me feel violently ill."

"All right, all right, there's no need for that. We were having a civil conversation for a moment. At least take this." He reaches behind the door, pulling out a large grey hoodie. "It's cold, and it's a long walk back to Fittes."

With a bit of hesitation, you take the hoodie from his hands. It's warm like it's been over a radiator. "Thanks. I'll get this back to you."

"Hey, at least it matches your uniform."

"Oh, shut up. You're just proving you've got no sense of style - it's not even the same shade. And, I'm just noticing, you're still not able to match your socks and tie. You need to do some homework."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Get gone. You're making the street look untidy."

You flip him off before turning and trudging down the steps, then make your way home.

"That's not your jumper."

You look up from your mug of coffee tiredly. The case you'd been on the night before has left you completely drained, and having a nine am start didn't make it any better. Even the coffee hasn't perked you up.

"What?"

Kat's icy gaze studies the hoodie you wear. "Did you not hear me? I said -"

"I know what you said. But why?"

"Whose is it?"

You rub your eyes. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It's Anthony Lockwood's, isn't it?" she says, practically spitting the name. "I thought you hated him."

"Like I said, none of your business."

You pull the grey jumper tighter around you. The whole morning, you've been so cold that you've resorted to wearing it. And, despite your - now, somewhat mixed - feeling for Lockwood, you find comfort in the scent of tea and toast it carries. You've not seen him in the last few days since he gave it to you, so you've not had the opportunity to return it. Might as well take advantage of it, seeing as all of your jumpers are dirty.

Kat scowls. "Give it back. Burn it. Just get rid of it."

"I'll do what I want with it," you say, shocking yourself with your defensiveness. "Just lay off. I'm cold, I'm tired, and I'm hungry. I'm not in the mood for this."

"You're never in the mood for anything," Kat says.

"I wonder why," you mutter quietly before taking a sip of your coffee.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. Just saying how much I appreciate your constant input."

"Saving you again. Who'd have thought?"

Lockwood rolls his eyes, rapier held out in front of him. "I think you enjoy it. That, or you enjoy seeing me. I'd prefer the latter because I love the attention, but either way."

You scoff, throwing a salt bomb at the ghost that has cornered you both. "I most certainly do not like seeing you. It's the worst part of my week."

"Oh, sure, love."

The nickname causes you to choke, but you keep your guard up. This ghost is relentless, and you won't let some arrogant boy cause you to falter. You're one of the best agents Fittes has, a professional in your field. You know better than to let him distract you.

In front of you, the ghost makes a faint wailing sound, though your Listening isn't strong enough to make out what it's saying. Judging from the glowing blood that pours from its neck and spills over its dress, you judge that it's a Wraith, and not a very happy one at that.

"What's our plan, then?" you ask. "We're trapped in a hallway with nothing but a basement door behind us. Lucy and George are looking for the source, I take it?"

"Lucy and George didn't take this case with me. They're on a separate one."

Scowling, you say, "Oh, well, just as well that I happened to pass by when I did then, huh? You'd be dead right now if it weren't for me."

You're about to keep talking, but Lockwood shouts, "Duck!" before tackling you to the ground. Your head narrowly misses the wall but bangs against the floor instead, and you're overtaken by a horrible chill as the ghost darts over top of you both.

All of a sudden, you're acutely aware of Lockwood on top of you, shielding you from what could've been potential ghost touch. His breath is warm on your face, and you can feel his heart racing above your own, which feels like it's going a million miles an hour. Your cheeks, despite the chill, feel awfully hot. He looks down at you, grinning and about to say something.

"Watch out!" you interrupt, kicking him off of you and grabbing his rapier. You slash it through the air, temporarily dissolving the ghost.

You push yourself off the ground, throwing another salt bomb at the Wraith. Lockwood is on his feet shortly after, and you both hurry to his iron circle by the living room door, panting and gasping for breath. The lamp in the centre flickers slightly, and the floorboards creak.

"Hell of a house you've got here," you grumble. "Who is this miserable git anyways?"

Lockwood eyes the ghost before grinning at you once more. "Lady called Angela, was killed in a burglary back in, oh, what did George say? Nineteen-forty-nine, I think. As you can see, she's very unhappy."

The Wraith wails and a liquidy choking sound becomes more apparent, which makes you squirm. Your Sight is about as good as your Listening, but it's still hard to make out the glowing features of the woman besides all of the blood and her spotty dress.

"Your Touch is good, right?"

"Best of the best."

Lockwood scoffs. "All right, no need to get cocky."

"You're one to talk."

"I was just going to ask if you could search for the source with your Touch while I cover you! You make everything so difficult."

You brush hair out of your eyes. "Yeah, me. Okay, whatever. I'll go find this source then. Which room is my best bet?"

"Living room."

Glancing into the room just beside you, you nod, waiting for your cue to go. For a brief second, Lockwood touches your arm, telling you to stay safe, and then he's launched himself at the ghost. You don't stick around to see what kind of pretentious rapier moves he's doing.

The living room is pretty empty, compared to others you've seen. The walls are plain and beige, with very few photos hung up in boring old frames. There's a two-seater sofa with the ugliest floral pattern you've ever seen and an armchair that doesn't match in the slightest. The fireplace has no wood, no ash, no nothing as if it hasn't been used for years.

You're instantly drawn to the fireplace. Crouching down to the ground, you place your hand on the bricks that make it up, closing your eyes and falling into your senses.

The room has changed. It's brighter, more colourful, happier. Sunlight streams through the window, and a woman hums as she dusts the ornaments on the wall. She's pretty, wearing a spotty blue dress, and her voice is soothing. When she passes over to the fireplace, it's almost as if she is really there next to you, replacing the burnt wood with fresh. But her fingers graze a brick inlaid in the ground, lingering for a moment too long before she moves away to replace the flowers in a vase.

Colours blur as the vision fades away and the sounds of Lockwood's fight resume. Immediately, you begin clawing at the brick you saw in the vision, grateful to find it loose already. A horrible wail indicates that you're right.

A spider crawls out of the hollow gap beneath the brick, and you reach your hand into the gap, which is filled with cobwebs. Your fingers latch onto something, but you don't stop to look at what it is before you wrap it up in the silver net you always keep in a pouch on your belt.

Seconds later, Lockwood appears in the doorway, panting and smiling. "Thanks for the help, love. You're very handy. What's the source?"

You scowl. "Don't call me that."

"What? Love? Thought you'd like it. I mean, you've still got my jumper, and Lucy says that's got to mean something."

"Be quiet. I've not had the chance to give it back. Here's the source. Look for yourself. I'm heading home, as far away from you as I can get."

"Oh, come on. Let me walk you home at least."

For a moment, you consider it, and you hate yourself for it. But part of you, a treacherous little piece of your heart, yearns for it. When was the last time someone walked you home? When was the last time someone offered to bring you in for a coffee or gave you their jumper to keep you warm? Though you hate to admit it, Anthony Lockwood is not the worst out of all the people in London.

"Fine," you mutter. "Just this once."

"So, tell me about yourself, love. What makes you tick?"

You look at Lockwood incredulously. "This isn't the time, you twat! There's a pack of Phantasms following us."

Lockwood glances back at the ghosts trailing you. He waves a hand nonchalantly. "Oh, they're fine. We're covered in iron and silver protection."

"I can hear them calling for us, and they're getting closer."

"Well, good thing you've got me to walk you home. Who better to keep you safe?"

You curse under your breath, wondering why you'd ever agreed more than once to let him walk you home. The first time was bearable, the second time less so. Now, the eighth, you're at your wit's end. Having the company, especially when walking in the dark so late at night, made you feel a little better, but things would definitely be splendid if he'd shut his mouth for once.

"What did I say about you calling me 'love'?"

"If I remember correctly, you said, and I quote, If you call me that again, I'm going to tear out your tongue and feed it to Kipps for breakfast. Did I get that right?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, if it annoys you, more the reason to say it, right, love?"

You shove him, and he stumbles, laughing, as you trudge along the park's path, glancing back at the phantasms following behind.

"So...?" Lockwood says, drawing near once more.

You raise your eyebrows. "So?"

"What makes you so prickly? Kat Godwin is bad, but she's quiet most of the time. You, on the other hand, spark a debate the minute you walk into a room. What is it? An incessant hatred for the world? Never had any friends growing up? Oh, I know, you had a pet that got run over when you were a child, and now you hate everyone in return?"

Glaring at him, you say, "No. To all of them."

"So what is it then?"

"I don't know." You shrug. You don't know why you feel the urge to tell him a real answer. "I've never seen anything different, I suppose. My parents didn't really... parent, when I was a kid, so now I don't know how to talk to people any other way than how I do. It's how they spoke to me, or so I've been told. Kipps put me in therapy for a while, but my therapist was a thick-skulled -"

Lockwood's laugh cuts you off, and you glance at him sidelong. There's something about the way the moonlight hits his skin; how the cold midnight air makes his cheeks rosy; how his smile seems to light up his face. It makes everything feel a little less bad.

"I don't know how to word things without sounding mean," you say, "because that's all anyone has ever been to me. Even at Fittes."

"So you don't mean to hurl verbal abuse at me every chance you get?"

"Oh, no, I absolutely do. You're the biggest idiot I've ever met, and you could really work on that narcissism of yours. It's a killer. Real no-go for a girl."

"So now you're saying you're interested in me, but my confidence is putting you off?"

The arrogance in his eyes makes you want to strangle him. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all."

But, is it? You're not sure. There's a funny feeling in your chest, but you're half convinced it's just heartburn and not something people tend to call 'crushing' or 'loving'. You're not entirely sure what either of those things feels like.

He makes to speak again, but he glances back at the group of phantasms following you and grins. "Fancy another ghost fight tonight?"

You sigh. "You really know how to get a girl excited."

"Love, pass me a salt bomb or five."

You glance into the hallway for any of the other agents scouting the mansion, scowling. "Don't call me that!"

"Whatever you say, love. Now, the salt bombs?"

Resisting the urge to throw them at his face, you pass Lockwood a few salt bombs begrudgingly.

Your Fittes team and Lockwood's agency have been teamed up on a case by DEPRAC, and Lockwood being the pompous ass he is paired you both together and has been teasing you incessantly. Nothing new there, except for the feeling it incites in your chest.

It can't really be described as heartburn, anymore, because it only ever happens whenever you see him or hear his name. You've found yourself growing bored and - you hate to say this - lonely without his company and quips, and find yourself to be your happiest when throwing insults at each other, though they feel a little more light-hearted now than they once did. Well, you feel as happy as you believe you can be, with as little experience of it as you've had.

You try to ignore the way your skin tingles and cheeks flush when his fingers brush yours and try even harder to pretend you don't see the shit-eating grin on his face from your reaction.

"You're insufferable, you know that right?" you ask as you pull iron chains from your bag.

"Only because you tell me every chance you get," Lockwood says. "I live to give you that privilege."

You roll your eyes. "I can stab you with my rapier, so you'd do well to remember that."

The weight of his arm rests on your shoulders, and he pulls you close to his side. You grow tense at the sudden movement and the close proximity, and hope he can't feel your racing heartbeat. It'll only give him one more thing to pick at you about. You're just unused to being held, you tell yourself.

"But you wouldn't do that, love. You've grown quite fond of me these past few months."

"Have not."

"Care to return my jumper, then? I'm in dire need of it."

Once more, your face flushes. "You told me to keep it a little longer while my morning runs are still cold."

"As a formality. You were meant to say something smart like, Like hell I will, asshat, take it back before I become infected by the bacteria you carry. Your insults are becoming boring."

"Is that so?" You narrow your eyes at him. "Well, you are an asshat, for one. For two, I'd advise you let go of me, or I fear my skin will burn off from the way your brain is overheating trying to keep a conversation with me. So, love, how about you take your arm back?"

He grins, drawing you closer until your cheeks are almost touching. "If I die from overheating, you're going down with me."

You shove him away, scowling once more, but part of you wants to laugh. This kind of banter with him has grown familiar, comforting. And, well, though you might protest it much of the time, being called 'love' gives your heart a little flutter, like it's glad it's finally getting some attention after a lifetime of being as hard and cold as stone.

Bit by bit, Lockwood has softened it up, but you'll never tell him that. He would only grow too smug.

"You know," Lockwood says, "I think you're bribing DEPRAC so that you can get put on cases with us. This is the second one in two weeks."

"Why on earth would I ever bribe DEPRAC for that? If anything, I'd bribe them to get me out of it." You lay the chains out in a neat circle and place all your things inside. "If anyone's doing it, it's you, because you're obsessed with me."

"And so what if I am, love? You're very fun to poke fun at."

Your hands falter, and you hope he hasn't noticed. "Whatever."

He grins, watching your every move. "You can admit you feel the same, you know? You're not going to face a horrible death for admitting you enjoy spending time with me."

You don't know what to say to that. Because, yes, you do enjoy spending time with him, in your little confusing way. Being around him has opened you up to new feelings you've never had the chance to really feel before, and you're grateful for it, but admitting it? It's like giving him the key to a locked door and granting him 24/7 access. It terrifies you and makes you feel vulnerable.

"Be quiet so we can get on with our surveys," you murmur. "I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Scared? Don't worry, I can hold your hand."

And he does. His hand wraps around yours, enveloping it in warmth, and you find yourself staring at it, unwilling to pull away from his touch. It seems to shock Lockwood, too, judging from his parted lips and slightly-too-wide eyes, but his hand squeezes yours gently and you feel a little piece of your heart soften.

There's a creak in the hallway, and you jerk your hand away, standing straight, face hot. But there's nothing, no one. Just you, Lockwood, and a barrage of feelings you're not sure what to do with.

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #george karim #lucy carlyle #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

385 notes · View notes

againstme · 3 months

Text

idk man i’m just thinking about against me! and transness, especially cause we’re coming up on ten fucking years of transgender dysphoria blues, on the 21st.

lyrics have been swimming in my head lately.

“what god doesnt give to you, you’ve got to go and get for yourself.”

“if i could’ve chosen, i would’ve been born a woman. my mother once told me she would’ve named me laura. i’d grow up to be strong and beautiful like her.”

“you wouldn’t think something like gender identity would complicate something like asking for some company.”

“she spent the last few years of her life running from the boy she used to be.”

“standing naked in front of that hotel bathroom mirror, in her dysphoria’s reflection, she still saw her mother’s son.”

“agitated states of amazement, never quite the woman that she wanted to be.”

“you want them to see you like they see every other girl, they just see a faggot, they hold their breath not to catch the sick.”

“chipped nail polish and a barbed wire dress. is your mother proud of your eyelashes? silicone chest, and collagen lips. how would you even recognize me?”

“no more troubled sleep, there’s a brave new world that’s raging inside of me.”

“all my life, wishing i was one of them. there will always be a difference between me and you.”

“what’s the best end you can hope for? pity fucks and table scraps?”

“all the young graves filled, don’t the best all burn out so bright and so fast?”

“sometimes at night, i pray to wake a different person in a different place.”

“i don’t want to hang around the graveyard, waiting for something dead to come back. i know you think you’ve got one up on me, that you can see something i can’t.”

“i wanna be so real, you can see the difference.”

“dig up your bones, early graves are not homes.”

“come on, shape shift with me! what’ve you got to lose? fuck it!”

“confessing childhood secrets of dressing up in women’s clothes, compulsions you never knew the reasons to.”

“i’m sick of feeling like i’m losing my mind. sick of doing the same things most nights after night. sick of self loathing and self absorption, self destructive narcissism.”

some of these are directly referencing transness, some just alluding to it. some are just ones that i relate to as i’ve grown up struggling with my gender and sexuality and accepting my own transness and dealing with self harm and self destruction and relying too much on drugs.

finding myself buying baggies of coke and just stuffing them in my wallet while i walked downtown, feeling this immense guilt at the bottom of my stomach for essentially just wasting 25 dollars on a drug that wasn’t doing much for me besides making me feel like i was feeling something different than what my life was. getting scared shitless while in the line at the convenience store after picking up, seeing cops come into the store, and the small tied up bag filled with what was more baby powder than coke in my back pocket felt like the the heaviest and most obvious thing in the world.

and then i’d find myself on calls with my friends, with my camera turned off or pointing at the ceiling, suddenly muting my mic holding a cut up piece of a straw in my teeth as i crushed shit up with my library card from a city i wasn’t planning on living in again. just having them talk while i was racking baby lines, tilting my head back and rubbing it on my gums after. i was sniffling all the time. sometimes my nose would bleed when i would wake up. and i wasn’t even really feeling much; i didn’t know at the time that this would be because of having adhd and just basically spending money on overpriced shit that was just like taking an adderall, but it was a drug in front of me, that gave me the idea or the false hope of running away from my life during the short lived high.

“before you know it, here i am again, fucking 6 o’clock in the morning, rolled up dollar bill in my hand.”

“what the fuck are you cutting this with, anyway?”

“how low can you go before you can’t turn around?”

i don’t think that when i was 14 and getting into against me! that i would ever actually get to a point of fully relating to those lyrics. of running away from such a huge part of yourself or your problems, trying to fill the void with drugs that you’d plow through so quickly, faster than you thought you would every time.

the thing is, was that at this point, i had already started my transition. i was already “passing.” but i never got to the root of it. sure, i’m trans, but who am i? and i didn’t know how to answer that question. so i just pushed it away, pushed it under the rug.

“you can pray all night and day, but you’ll still wake up the same person in the same fucking place.”

against me! has been there for me for ten years. throughout so many transformations of myself, so much shape shifting, so much dysphoria, so many late nights wishing i was a different person in a different place.

i found solace in their lyrics. it gave me some small bit of hope, some realization that i didn’t know that i needed; that trans people always have been and always will be here, that being able to be trans and be alive is possible, and that i don’t have to be digging my own grave, spending late nights staring at the mirror and seeing the girl who i used to be.

against me! gave me the courage to be alive.

#this is ok to rb. u can tag w drugs if u need to.#c.txt #wow after typing this it feels corny and long winded #also like it should be a journal entry. should it? maybe. do i feel like my fellow am! mutuals could relate in some way? yeah #hi if y’all are reading this #just been thinking about against me a lot lately #against me!

82 notes · View notes

stuckinapril · 5 months

Note

i’m finding it so difficult to detach myself and cut off a person who i am very much still in love with but who has repeatedly hurt me and strung me along only to dump me when reality hits and they remember im a real person with flaws and emotions and not some fantasy they created

i’m about to be really mean but this person doesn’t give nearly as much of a fuck about you as you do about them. you’re probably romanticizing them, playing a highlight reel of their best qualities in your head, rewinding all the good moments you might’ve shared w them. meanwhile they weighed your best qualities, replayed your best memories in their head, considered the value you add to their life as a person—and still decided it wasn’t enough and chose to dump you.

this was my biggest blind spot when i was going through things like friendship fallouts or my breakup w my ex. i was like but how can i live without them now!! as if they didn’t choose to severe our connection w their whole chest. you might be like “but they might’ve really struggled to do it” and it’s like okay, but they still chose to go through w it. their reasoning to them was more important than having you in their life, regardless of the tremendous energy and emotion that got expended into the decision. that or it took no energy at all, which just means that they were playacting their care for you and never actually gave a fuck. far more sinister.

from the way you described them, they’re still not mature enough to realize that love is hard work. that it’s not just convenience and feeling good all the time. why do you want someone like that in your life? someone who always goes into fight or flight whenever push comes to shove? not sustainable whatsoever. they literally did you a favor by walking out of your life. they saved you more wasted time and effort and pain that would have no doubt stemmed from their avoidant, erratic, wishywashy nature.

you have to get into the habit of not wanting people who don’t want you, whatever the context. i feel like a bit of narcissism is healthy when it comes to this bc i legit don’t care what a person’s attributes are; to me that’s such a fundamental difference in thinking between us bc i’m the dopest bitch i know. and they still don’t want me in their life ?? like ik what i bring to the table and that would be such flawed, ludicrous logic to me. it just gives me the ick and makes me lose interest in them as a person instantly, even if they were great listeners or had a good music taste or were funny or played the guitar really well. doesn’t matter, they still were shortsighted enough to think a life without me in it was a good choice. romantic and platonic breakups do bother me, simply bc i’m very honest w my love and i genuinely value the people in my life, but these days i’m not hung up on anyone for more than a day bc i will never want someone who doesn’t want me. never never never. i don’t have the compulsive urge to make people who don’t like me like me. i have such a don’t let the door slam you on your way out mentality about it. i’ll simply find someone who’s funny and a good listener and plays the guitar well and still cares enough about me not to dump me when it gets hard. doesn’t have to be one or the other.

also do yourself a favor and don’t fill the gaps for them or try to guess what’s going on in their minds. they dumped you? okay they don’t care about you. they cut you off? okay they don’t care about you. they’re not trying to send you subliminal messages on their ig story about how much they still care—and on the very small chance that they are, you shouldn’t want that. you shouldn’t want someone whose peak effort when it comes to you is posting a sad quote about how lonely they are without actually putting the effort into approaching you, apologizing, owning up to their mistakes. until they actually act on it, their feelings pretty much irrelevant & it’s best to assume they just don’t give a fuck. you don’t want someone in your life who always prioritizes their comfort over maintaining their connection w you. ruthlessly remind yourself of that and move on to someone who doesn’t just give you breadcrumbs, if anything at all.

#as someone who attaches to ppl very fast i totally get u #but it’s been wearing off bc most people really do fucking suck lol #i hope this helps !! i tried to talk to u the way i wanted someone to talk to me whenever i went through things like this #ask

111 notes · View notes