#I always wondered. What it sounded like to other people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

#I always wondered. What it sounded like to other people

earlgreytea68 · 1 day

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Okay. It's time for an AI rant.

My nephew is 13 years old. Whenever he writes a paper for school, I check it over and fix all of his mistakes for him. He said to me, "Maybe I'll proofread your paper for you in exchange," meaning one of the scholarly articles I write for work. I said, "Cool," and gave him the file. And he said, "Well, this is full of errors! See, you always say you have a lot to correct on my stuff, and look at all the stuff you got wrong!" And I said, surprised, "What? Where?" Because I'm sure there are typos in the draft I sent him, but not, like, that many.

And then he pointed to the screen and said, "Look at all the blue and red lines you have."

And I said, "Yeah, but those are wrong. Like, those are blue and red lines I'm ignoring because the computer is wrong." And then I paused and added, "You know you can't proofread a paper by just looking at the red and blue lines, right?" And he gave me the blankest look, because that clearly is EXACTLY what he thinks. And it became even clearer suddenly why, whenever I correct something on his paper, his immediate reaction is, "It didn't have a blue or red line."

There's a very good reason for that: THAT'S BECAUSE THE COMPUTER ISN'T SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT IT WAS WRONG.

I am so tired of being sold the idea that computers are better than humans and so we should just outsource everything to them, which is clearly the lesson my nephew is absorbing in U.S. middle school. COMPUTERS ARE NOT BETTER THAN HUMANS. Like, maybe they are better at humans at crawling through rubble to find people trapped inside. They are also better at preserving things in a searchable format. Things like that. Very limited circumstances.

I don't want to sound alarmist but everything I hear about people using generative AI freaks me out. It's not just that I'm freaked out by people being like, "I use it to write novels!" (Although I don't see how they do, I have tried to have it write fiction for me and the output was truly terrible.) But I recognize my bias around creative writing and so no one needs to credit my views on artificial writing. But! Other things are alarming, too! "I use it to brainstorm x, y, or z." But...why? Why not just...use your own brain...to...brain...storm? The computer doesn't even have a brain to brainstorm with! And you might be like, "But it comes up with things that my brain would never think of!" So would other people! You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you (not AI). Please don't belittle the wonder of thinking.

I just feel like the marketing around generative AI boils down to "Wouldn't it be easier not to use your own brain to think about things?" Everyone. No. It would not be. Please just trust me on this. I'm not just an old person who is out of touch with technology or something. I promise. USE YOUR BRAINS. IT WILL BE OKAY.

#AI

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ilyhaitanii · 3 days

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geshulin….ive been thinking about him so much it’s sick more specifically kissing the marks on his neck…I wonder if they’re sensitive…

mandlaofekedo stop it. i have so mnay thoughts .. mdni 18+

general geshulin isn’t caught off guard very easily. hes calculating and cautious, especially around others. however, you’ve found hus guard to be severely lowered around you. he becomes like a helpless puppy, clinging to your waist and rubbing his face into your stomach and neck.

he very much likes to tickle you, or at least catch you off guard. constantly, pinches your sides when you least expect it, or breathes down your neck, even going as far as to kiss the nape of your neck while having a conversation with someone else. he’s horrible.

however, you’ve recently discovered the general is also very ticklish. especially on the mark on his neck. one day, while cutting his hair, your fingers ran over the tattooed mark on his neck. he instantly flinched, grabbing onto your wrist with a slight smile on his face. he let out an airy chuckle,

“what are you doing?” he asked, brows furrowed. you look down at him, surprised at his outburst.

“sorry. did i hurt you?” geshulin shakes his head, taking your hand to cup his cheek. his nose and lips brush over the palm of your hand, before kissing your wrist. he hums against it, denying your question.

“you just caught me off guard is all. i always flinch when people touch me there,” geshulin speaks so casually as the summer breeze messes with his hair. you furrow your brows, laughing.

“you’re ticklish?” with a hand covering your lips, you laugh out loud. geshulin looks at you with a slight blush.

“i am not ticklish.” he says, agitated. you look at him with a soft smile as you brush his hair out his face.

“whatever you say honey” you reply with a cheeky smile.

ever since that day, you’ve been trying your best to prove to your lover that he is indeed ticklish. days he comes home tired from work and his body is sore, you offer to give him a back and scrub his hair.

while he sits in the back, you take this opportunity to kiss his neck while his head hands back and exposes his mark. instantly he’s on you, grabbing you while he lets out an uncharacteristically high pitched squeak.

“what the hell?” he groans, watching your lips curl into a smile. eventually it erupts into laughter.

“sorry. i had to take up the opportunity.” gehsulin, far too tired to reprimand you for your antics just sighs and shakes his head in faux annoyance.

the second time you attempt to prove to the general that he is ticklish, is when he has you seated on his lap. your lips lock together, hands running over each other’s bodies. the nigjt is young, but you’re both far too impatient to wait. geshulin makes quick work of your dress, sliding it down your body as his hands kiss your curves.

you on the other hand, palm at his clothes crotch, lips kissing the sides of his face and going down his jaw. geshulin seems to thrive in the feeling, his head lolling back as he enjoys the feeling of his names lover feeling him up.

“darling,” he says in a low tone, hands dangerously close to your clothes cunt. he doesn’t wait any longer before sliding your panties to the side as his free hand unbuckles his pants. he frees his cock from its confines, and sliding the enraged tip over your slit.

he can hear the squelching from your liquid mixing, almost moaning at the sound. while you make work of the too half of his clothes, an idea pops into your mind. you slide yourself backwards, no longer having his tip brush against you. instead you guide him to lay on the couch as you straddle his thighs.

“let me. you’ve been working far too hard, general.” and boy, does that get him going. geshulin lets out a shaky breath as his nails dig into your plush hips. he chuckles, though his voice does stammer when your hand wraps around his cock.

his til is leaking pre, your thumb collecting the liquid and bringing it to your lips. as your hand makes work of your cock, you bend forward and down to his ear to whisper things in his ear.

“you know, i’ve been thinking about you so much these past few days,” geshulin grins, trying his best not to cum so quickly. however it’s been a rough few days and the man is so pent up.

“hah, is that so? what’s been on your mind, honey? tell me, please?” his voice trembles at the end, hips jerking into your hand. you chuckle, taking your other hand and pumping it up the length of his cock. your left thumb pressing against his slit, feeling hai cock jump in your hands.

“honey, please.” he borderline begs. geshulin’s hands grab onto your hips, grinding your soaked cunt on his thigh. your clit catches on the material of his pants, making you moan and mewl in his ears. he doesn’t make the situation any better, especially when he pulls the hood of your clit up, allowing it to more directly rub against his pants.

you dip your head into his neck when you feel geshulin growing closer to the edge. his cock is practically pulsing, begging for his high to come already. like the angel you are, you help him you. while his hands are distracted with your hips and clit, you take this time to kiss the markings on his neck.

the sound geshulin makes, practically makes you cum. your pussy gushes at the guttural noise he makes. there’s rooes of his cum shooting onto your abdomen and between your fingers the moment your tongue peaks out to lick that marking.

as the general catches his breath, he looks up at you with hooded eyes. he can’t help but take this moment to admire how gorgeous you look with his cum sprayed all over your body. fuck, maybe he should pull out often (he knows deep in his heart he could never do that because 1. he’s a greedy man who enjoys the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around him and 2. you also are greedy and enjoy him filling you up to the brim)

“you, my darling, are an egregious little vixen. you know that?” geshuline’s laughter fills your ears as his fingers slid against his cum on your body. he brings those very same fingers to your lips and you obediently open wide.

“atta girl.” he adjusts your bodies to where he’s sat up right with you in his lap once again. “let’s try that again, yeah? this time however, i think i’d like to be the one tickling you. sound fun?”

you’ve learned ever since that day to not mess with your lover. he strikes back ten times harder.

#aku replies 📮#geshulin x reader #geshulin x you #geshulin wuthering waves #wuwa x reader #wuwa x you #wuwa smut #geshulin smut #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves smut #geshu lin x reader #geshu lin wuthering waves

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suzukiblu · 1 day

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WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Is that bad, maybe? That he’s this glad about Lynn being easy for him to like? He’s gonna take care of him the best he can no matter what, just . . . it helps, a little, that Lynn’s this easy to like. Makes it feel less . . . intimidating, maybe.

Billy likes a lot of people, technically. He likes most of the other League members, and he likes a lot of people he’s met on the street, and he even liked a few of the kids he met in foster care, and obviously he’s always liked Tawky, but . . .

But it wasn’t really easy to like most of those people, he has to admit. Not after . . . everything.

He tries. He really tries. But it’s just–not always easy. And he knows it won’t be easy all the time with Lynn either, but . . .

But it’s nice, just meeting somebody he likes right away.

“Okay,” Billy says, glancing reflexively towards the windows even though he already knows what the weather’s like. They were just outside, after all, and even if they hadn’t been, the windows are big enough to make it hard to miss either way. “It is a good day for a walk, if you don’t mind another one.”

“. . . sure,” Lynn says, just a little hesitant again. “Um. It’s . . . okay? To be . . . out that much?”

“Yeah,” Billy says, wondering where he can even get as much lighter fluid as he’s gonna need to burn down a whole fifty-two levels of underground lab. That might be hard, kinda. Batman would probably wanna know why he’d bought that much, is all. Like, he’d definitely at least ask. Maybe Billy can figure out how ATMs work and just pay for it all in cash, though. That’s an option, anyway. Like, for plausible deniability and whatever. “You can be out as much as–okay, um, not all the time, but mostly as much as you want. Like, if it’s not bedtime or after curfew or anything like that. And, um, please take your phone when you’re out. Definitely take your phone when you’re out. No offense, just you’re still really little and you just got out of the lab, and I don’t want you to get lost or in trouble and not be able to get ahold of me if you need something, you know?”

“You’d let me go out unsupervised,” Lynn says. It doesn’t really sound like a question, but . . . well, it still kind of sounds like a question. “And if I got in . . . trouble, you’d . . .”

“I’d come get you,” Billy says immediately. “Or answer your questions or whatever. Whatever you needed.”

“. . . okay,” Lynn says, shifting his weight a little. Billy wouldn’t really notice, except mostly Lynn doesn’t shift his weight like that. He’s really, really still, actually, and takes up as little space as possible for a kid his size.

Billy wonders exactly how big that pod actually was, come to think.

That’s . . . kinda depressing, as a thought. Thought maybe for Lynn it just felt, like . . . like being swaddled, or something? Babies like that, right? Well–he’s overheard people talking about that before, and the wisdom of Solomon seems to agree, so . . . maybe it felt like that, for Lynn. Like, safe and secure and–

Oh. Is that why he was in the closet for so long earlier?

. . . Billy’s not sure if that’s depressing either. Well–not if it makes Lynn feel better, obviously, and if it is kind of the same idea as being swaddled, he’ll just grow out of it anyway, right?

Billy definitely needs parenting books. Like–ones for teenagers and newborns.

“Do you wanna go now, or wait like twenty minutes for lunch to settle?” he asks. Little choices, he figures. So Lynn doesn’t get overwhelmed with a whole bunch of them or anything. Also, he still doesn’t know if Lynn did accidentally overeat, so just in case . . .

“Um,” Lynn says, a brief flash of hesitance flickering across his face. “I–don’t know.”

“Okay,” Billy says. Still better than a definitive answer that isn’t true, he figures. Like–way, way better. Like–the honest answer is always better, as far as he’s concerned, at least in this kind of situation.

Lying to supervillains and bad guys is morally and ethically okay, like, eighty percent of the time at least.

“Spit the difference and wait ten?” he suggests, and Lynn pauses for a moment, and then just shrugs.

Again: still better than a definitive answer that isn’t true, so Billy’ll work with it.

“Ten minutes, then,” he says, and then doesn't really know what to do with himself so just . . . goes and sits down on the couch again. They can maybe just talk a bit, he figures. They already had the “no” conversation, and that'll probably need to come up again because it's hard to change behaviors like that, but for now they can just talk about lighter stuff. Small talk or something. He doesn’t wanna overwhelm Lynn with a ton of serious stuff or complicated conversations all in one day. They’ve just met, and Lynn is so young. It’s just, like–weird, if he does that. Like, expecting way too much. Especially after Cadmus force-grew him and stuffed years worth of information into his head all at once.

Billy thinks it’s fair to give Lynn a break, after that. More than fair.

Lynn looks at his shoulder instead of meeting his eyes. Billy isn’t worried about it, but notices it. It’s not very subtle, is all.

“Do you know what kind of books you like?” he says. “Or–well, stories, I guess. Or nonfiction. Or, uh . . . subjects, maybe. Maybe that’d be better. I just dunno how many stories Cadmus told you or if you even like stories, so . . .”

“Cadmus didn’t tell me stories,” Lynn says. Billy . . . pauses.

#cheshire #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!

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addiethepup · 3 days

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You've always been a good student, and some of the others called you teacher's pet, but as long as you were learning more you didn't care.

You think it comes from your need to people-please... Ever since you had started working on your psych major it's become more and more difficult to stop yourself from overanalyzing even more than usual.

The most recent class changed everything though, the study of hypnosis has always seemed fascinating, but at the same time inaccessible. There's just so much incorrect information and misrepresentation of hypnosis out there! Taking a class that focused solely on it seemed at first a bit much, but it's definitely helped your stress. It's quickly become your favorite course...

And the professor!! She clearly has such a passion for her subject, and you make sure to show in class how attentive you are. If other students think you're a teacher's pet, you might as well live up to the title. Plus, she's absolutely gorgeous! And her voice can only be described as the feeling of being completely surrounded by warm honey, in sound form. You can't help but feel a flutter deep in your chest whenever she calls on you to give your thoughts... on the current discussion.

About half-way through the semester, you work up the courage to approach her after class to see if she has any outside resources she can point you to. The course is amazing, you tell her, but you feel like a practical example of the application of hypnosis would help you delve deeper and deeper into the material!

For a moment you think you catch a chuckle(?) But this is just a typical request... oh well, it's hard to focus while you look at her anyway! She replies in her silky, smooth, relaxing voice:

"Oh dear, I've been wondering when you would ask! You're my favorite student, of course you deserve some one-on-one training~"

For some reason, what she said seems... off? Somehow? But you can't grasp why... you're her favorite student, that makes sense... but wait, training??

"Relax~"

A thick wave washes over your brain as your train of thought is completely derailed and you're lost in the honey.

"There's nothing to worry about, this is completely normal. I know better than you, right?~"

You nod without realizing

"Good girl! Then let's get started."

She takes you by the hand and leads you to her office, because walking is hard on your own. When you get there, she shuts and locks the door behind you.

"Sit~"

You sit down, seemingly pulled downward by some invisible force.

She laughs, "Oh just look at you! This is going to be even more fun than I thought. Now, as for your request, what better way to understand hypnosis than to be the subject of it yourself? I understand some of the other students call you teacher's pet... and I want to help you fill that role even better! Wouldn't that just be wonderful?~"

The words practically fall out of your mouth, "Yes, ma'am"

"Gooood pet~

Normally, this process would take ages, but you've been listening to all of the extra-credit, haven't you? You don't need you answer, I know you have. That's why you're my favorite~"

You let out an absent-minded whine, impossibly willing to do whatever your new owner instructs of you.

She pulls out a collar and leash, and for some reason you yearn for them.

"The main point of the extra-credit was to create two separate triggers; one with a collar, and another with a leash. When I snap this collar around your neck, your sense of identity will be exclusively that of a pet. When I attach the leash, my words will replace your thoughts. What I want from you will become what you want to do~"

You cant understand her words, yet the anticipation as she walks around to the front of her desk is nearly unbearable, and you are practically shaking from the excitement.

"Still."

You freeze immediately. This command seemed more forceful than the others somehow, but you don't have time to consider it any further before-

Snap- and the collar is around your neck.

Any worries or thoughts you had lurking in your subconscious are dispersed immediately as the bliss of emptiness somehow becomes even more encapsulating.

"Much better, pup~"

Your owner's voice makes you wag your imaginary tail. She's praising you! The satisfaction is overwhelming, but this is interrupted by a-

Click- and there's your leash.

"Down~" You're on your knees

"Open~" Your mouth falls open as you begin to pant eagerly

"Sleep, puppy~" These are the final words you have even the faintest memory of.

You're such a good student

You're such an obedient puppy

You're the perfect teacher's pet

#teacher x student #t4t nsft #t4t ns/fw #t4t puppy #wlw nsft #hypnosis #hypnosub #puppy sub #bd/sm puppy #hypno pet #hypno fantasy #mtf ns/fw #lesbian #hypnotized #hypnok1nk #queer nsft #minors dni #men dni

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theodorenmyth · 2 days

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Could you write Theodore with a G.N best friend reader who he's secretly in love with but they have a boyfriend who's an asshole and not treat them kindly, so when the bf does something to hurt the reader Theo explodes and his feelings for reader reveals and turns out the reader also in love with him but thought Theo was not interested so they don't tell him but now they both know they want each other <3

Hidden Affections

Pairings : Theodore Nott x GN! Reader Summary : Theodore Nott has always been there for you, though he's secretly harbored feelings beyond friendship. When your boyfriend's abusive behavior crosses a line, Theo's protective instincts lead to an explosive confrontation, revealing hidden emotions on both sides. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 900+

The evening air was cool against your skin as you walked beside Theodore Nott through the Hogwarts grounds. It was a rare free moment, a break from studying for N.E.W.T.s, and you both cherished these times together. Theo had always been your rock, the friend who understood you better than anyone else. But lately, there was a tension in the air, something unsaid lingering between you.

You tried to ignore the nagging feeling that your boyfriend, Marcus, wasn't treating you right. He had a way of making you feel small, belittling your interests and snapping at you for the smallest things. Yet, you stayed, hoping he would change, hoping things would get better.

"Theo, can I ask you something?" you said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Of course," he replied, his blue eyes meeting yours with genuine concern.

"Do you think people can change?" you asked, trying to sound casual, though your voice wavered.

Theo frowned, sensing the weight behind your words. "Why do you ask?"

You hesitated, unsure if you should burden him with your relationship troubles. "It's just... Marcus. He promised he'd stop being so harsh, but it doesn't seem like he's trying."

Theo's jaw tightened, a flicker of anger in his eyes. "You deserve better than that, you know."

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. "I know. But it's hard. I keep thinking things will improve."

Theo stopped walking and turned to face you, his expression serious. "If he hurts you, it's not worth it. You deserve to be with someone who makes you happy, not someone who tears you down."

His words struck a chord deep within you, and for a moment, you wondered if he might be that someone. But you quickly pushed the thought aside. Theo was your best friend; you couldn't risk losing him by revealing your feelings.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Theo reached out and gently squeezed your hand. "Just promise me you'll look out for yourself, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support. "I will. Thanks, Theo."

───────♡───────

A few days later, the situation with Marcus escalated. You had been late to meet him after Quidditch practice, and he had exploded, yelling at you in front of the whole team. Humiliated and hurt, you fled to the one place you knew you would find solace—Theo's dormitory.

You knocked on his door, tears streaming down your face. Theo opened it almost immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to concern in an instant.

"What happened?" he asked, pulling you into the room and closing the door behind you.

You broke down, sobbing into his chest as you recounted the evening's events. Theo's arms tightened around you, his anger palpable. "He's gone too far this time," he muttered, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "Theo, don't do anything rash. He's not worth it."

But Theo was already moving towards the door, his resolve firm. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Before you could protest, he was gone. You sat on his bed, your heart racing with fear and anticipation. You knew Theo could handle himself, but the thought of him confronting Marcus filled you with dread.

───────♡───────

Minutes later, Theo returned, his knuckles bruised and a satisfied look on his face. "It's done," he said simply, sitting beside you.

"What did you do?" you asked, your voice shaking.

"I told him to stay away from you. Made it clear that if he ever hurt you again, he'd have to answer to me," Theo replied, his tone fierce.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, followed by a surge of emotion. "Theo, why do you care so much?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He hesitated, his eyes locking onto yours. "Because I love you," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "I've loved you for so long, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship. But I can't stand by and watch you get hurt."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding. "Theo... I love you too. I thought you didn't feel the same way, so I never said anything."

A look of pure relief and joy spread across Theo's face. "You do?"

You nodded, a smile breaking through your tears. "I do. I always have."

Without another word, Theo closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a tender, passionate kiss. All the unsaid words and hidden feelings flowed between you, binding you together in a moment of pure, unadulterated love.

The kiss was everything you had ever imagined—soft, warm, and filled with the promise of something more. Theo's hands cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away your lingering tears. You could feel the love and care in his touch, in the way his lips moved against yours.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. "We're going to be okay, right?" you asked, your voice hopeful.

Theo smiled, his eyes shining with love. "Yes, we are. As long as we're together."

You sat together in comfortable silence, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted. Theo's presence was a balm to your bruised heart, and you knew you had made the right choice.

───────♡───────

The following days were a whirlwind of emotions. You broke things off with Marcus, and although he tried to win you back, you stood your ground, knowing you deserved better. Theo was there for you every step of the way, his support unwavering.

With each passing day, your bond with Theo grew stronger. You found solace in his arms, laughter in his company, and love in his every word and action. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the depth of your connection.

One evening, as you sat by the Black Lake, Theo turned to you, his expression thoughtful. "I've been thinking," he began, taking your hand in his.

"About what?" you asked, your heart fluttering at the intensity in his gaze.

"About us. About how long I've wanted this, wanted you," he said, his voice soft. "I was afraid of losing you, of ruining what we had. But now, I see that being honest with you was the best thing I could have done."

You squeezed his hand, feeling a rush of affection. "I feel the same way. I was so scared of telling you how I felt, but now I can't imagine being with anyone else."

Theo smiled, his eyes filled with warmth. "Neither can I. You mean everything to me."

As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the lake, you leaned into Theo, feeling his arms wrap around you. The future was uncertain, but with Theo by your side, you knew you could face anything. Together, you were stronger, braver, and ready to take on the world.

And in that moment, with the world bathed in twilight, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful, enduring love.

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brainddeadd · 2 days

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it is a fic, i just yap first - the fic starts under the cut

reader is a friend of the Greene's but isn't actually a Greene, they took her in

warnings: typical twd violence and angst, daryl angst, fluff

I have this thought that Daryl's not very experienced at anything romantic or sexual.

Like, his mum died before that became a thing for him, his dad was abusive, Merle was abusive. He never had a good role model for this shit.

He's probably only witnessed Merle in crappy bars, high as a fucken kite and drunk, for anything like this.

He's probably heard the stories of being hella rough, rough enough for it to sound like abuse to him - why would he wanna go through that? Or put someone else through that?

He's definitely never felt true, unconditional love (maybe from his mum). Everything always comes with a price for him.

And now he lives in a world where he can't trust anyone and everything is a threat. He's got his found family and that's it.

I genuinely don't think he'd know what to do with romantic feelings.

Sexual, sure. He knows he gets hard, and he's gotta get off. Knows that sometimes someone else can help. Probably fucked a few people and hated it. It was probably Merle getting him a hooker or something, and it was definitely a shit time.

Romantic? The fuck is that? He doesn't know how to do that. How to feel that. He knows what it looks like; Maggie and Glenn. He's not sure it's something he deserves.

So when he meets you, and you're loving him so easily, he has no idea what to do.

The word's gone to shit, everyone's dead and dying, everyone's fearful and sceptical of others, and here you are, welcoming him and his found family to the farm with open arms.

You help nurse Carl back to health after he was shot. Daryl knows Rick needed that from you.

You help look for Sophia, a girl you don't know, for a woman you don't know. You join Daryl on the search, exhausted but refusing to give up.

You help take care of him after Andrea shoots him - and you may have yelled at her a bit for being so stupid (which only makes you more attractive to Daryl).

You help Carol escape when she's cornered by walkers when they take over the farm. Ushering her to Daryl, yelling that you'll be fine, taking off in a separate car.

You ask him to teach you how to use a bow and arrows, knowing it'll come in handy. He does willingly.

You take the cell closest to him in the prison, claiming it's a coincidence, but the others know it’s because you feel safest with him.

You love the baby with your whole heart, he can tell. You cradle her gently, like she's something precious and you're afraid to break her. He almost wonders if you were a mother in the previous world.

You're distraught when he goes off with Merle. Carol tells him how you cried when you found out and the sadness that filled your eyes until he returned. He hates knowing he made you that sad, the he was the cause of your tears. But the light that returns to your eyes tells Carol and Maggie how happy you are.

You show him you love him without even meaning to. It's in the way you always bring him food when he's on watch. The way you are the first to offer to join him on a run. The way you stop the others from hassling him when he wants to be alone. The way you tend to any injuries he may acquire. He can feel your love long before he knows about it.

When you hug him for the first time, his whole world stops. He's just come back from a run, he's been gone longer than he was supposed to, scared the crap out of you and the others. You don't know he's back until you spot him from a distance, getting patched up and fed by Carol, unable to hide his exhaustion. You don't stop to think, not even sure you can think. Your legs have carried you to him and your arms are around him before you can process the movements. Daryl's tense, body having gone stiff at the unexpected contact.

Flushing bright red, you move to let go of him, to hide away for eternity, but he's arms are around you, crushing you to his chest, holding you tightly, face sinking into your neck and his body relaxes. The two of you stay like that for ages, just holding each other closely.

Carol disappears, leaving you to your moment, and you hold him to your body with a hand on the back of his head. He knows then that this feeling in his chest, the one that makes him seek you out just because, is love.

#daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead x reader #° braindead writes #twd x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead smut #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon scenarios

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writeonwhiskey · 4 hours

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the skz house: ch 18 (18+)

a/n: as always, thank you @bahablastplz for editing!

[ read chapter 17 here ]

[ skz house picture book for visuals in the chapter ]

Chapter Eighteen: Of Beaches and Balconies

The small changes in Chan’s behavior make you feel more at ease around him. You choose an in-flight movie to watch together, and he keeps his hand on your thigh the entire time. When you exit the plane, he extends his hand out to you, and you take it. He guides you through the throngs of people in the airport and you feel yourself shifting into autopilot, taking comfort in following his lead. You’re so used to planning and handling everything on your own that him taking the reins is a welcome relief.

He grabs your luggage at baggage claim, hails a taxi and directs the driver to the hotel. He has you sit in the lobby while he checks in and gets the room keys. Watching him at the front desk, you can’t take your eyes off him. There is an air of confidence about him you’ve always admired but it often felt like arrogance, given the way he has treated you. You wonder if you’ll grow to fully appreciate it on this trip.

He returns to you a few minutes later with the keycards and you head to the elevator.

“What’re you thinking? Nap? Food? Exploring?” he asks as the elevator doors close.

They all sound equally appealing.

You retrieve your phone from your back pocket and open the tentative itinerary you made. Chan leans over your shoulder to look at it.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

“I like organization,” you defend yourself.

“I know,” he muses. “Send that to me, so I know what the plan is.”

“I didn’t have anything planned for today, though—we can wing it,” you shrug, tapping on your phone to send him a copy.

The elevator chimes and the doors open to the 15th floor.

“An entire evening living on the wild side? What’s gotten into you, y/n?” he teases, holding his arm out of the elevator to keep the doors open as you exit.

“I can be risky…sometimes.”

“I’ll remember that,” he replies. “Room 1533, should be all the way at the end.”

You walk down the hallway with him following close behind. When you get to the door, he unlocks it with the keycard and pushes it open for you to enter first. You smile as you enter the room, immediately walking down a hallway with dark walls on either side of you. The first door to your right is the bathroom; it’s covered in sparkling, white marble. There are two sinks, and the shower has two separate heads. You continue down the hallway which leads out into the kitchen on your left, with a refrigerator, stove, sink and an island with barstools around out. To the right is the living room with a gray sofa and a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall across from it.

You turn right and cross through the living room, sparing a quick glance at the balcony beyond the open curtains, until you’re on the other side of the room. Two French doors are wide open, leading into the bedroom. You stop abruptly upon looking inside the room. Chan crashes into you from behind. He grabs your waist to steady both of you from toppling over. His eyes follow yours into the bedroom, taking in the sight that made you stop in your tracks. The room is covered in rose petals, across the floor and on the bed in the shape of a heart. In the left corner of the room is a standalone bathtub and it, too, is surrounded by rose petals.

You can just imagine Lee Know cackling.

“That man must have a death wish,” you remark.

“Minho,” Chan says, shaking his head. “We should bring some back with us and dump them on his bed.”

You smile at the thought. “They’ll be dead by then…”

“Even better,” he replies, smacking you on the butt as he steps around you. He sits on the bed, picking up a few of the petals. “We can pretend I planned it. Would that make it any better, being your fiancé and all?”

You really wish he’d stop throwing that word around so casually. As if it doesn’t give your heart a reason to beat and want to die simultaneously.

“It might be a little too romantic for you.”

“Ouch,” he drops the petals from his hands. “That hurts, y/n. I can be romantic.”

You arch an eyebrow as he holds out his hand to you. You place your hand in his and he gently pulls you so you’re standing between his legs.

“You’d like it if I did something like this wouldn’t you?” he looks up at you with a knowing smirk.

You roll your eyes and give his shoulders a shove. He falls back onto the bed, right into the middle of the rose petal heart. Of course you’d like that. But hearing him say it, thinking of him doing something so romantic for the person that will one day be truly and completely his…

No, you can’t allow yourself to dwell on those thoughts.

You climb on top of him on the bed, straddling his waist. You sit up straight with your hands resting on his chest, taking in the sight of him surrounded by the red petals. He looks beautiful, the colors breathing life into his pale complexion and contrasting the dark curls strewn about his head.

You push aside the painful thoughts of the future and focus on the present. You have Chan right now. You’re his, right now. No one else.

“Thank you,” you say, breaking the silence.

“For what?” he asks, placing his hands on your hips.

“For doing a complete 180 today.”

He offers a shrug, “You made some valid points. I chose to come here with you—I have to make sure you have a good time.” He uses his hands on your hips to guide your hips, grinding them against him. “You decide what you wanna do first?”

“Yeah,” you reply, leaning down until your face is centimeters apart from his. “You.”

He smiles in return, bringing a hand up to clasp the back of your neck. He brings you down to peck your lips and in one swift move, rolls you over so he’s on top of you.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” His tone is low as he pulls your legs up so they hook around his waist. He nestles himself between your legs, making himself at home. “Gotta start this vacation off right.”

That first night you don’t venture out far from the hotel. You grab dinner at a nearby restaurant, walk around some of the shops, then return to the room to call it a night. You already feel torn between wanting to see all the things you had planned and staying cooped up in the hotel room with Chan the entire trip. Though, you don’t think he’d object to the latter if you suggested it.

The next day you have an early start in the morning and Chan wakes up without any fuss and gets ready. It makes you smile when you see him come out of the bathroom in comfortable active wear. He must have read through your itinerary and dressed accordingly. You spend the morning on a boat tour along the bay where the guide points out the homes of various celebrities, then out into the Atlantic Ocean. You and Chan are more enraptured by the dolphins you spot, his child-like glee at the sight—look of awe on his face, phone in hand to capture the moment—makes you laugh with pure joy.

You then take a quick taxi ride to Little Havana and walk along the streets. You have lunch at a Cuban café and then stop at an art museum where you take pictures to send to Hyunjin later.

You go out for dinner again and on your way back, the two of you sit for an artist to draw a caricature. Chan laughs when the picture is finally revealed to you and commends the artist for accurately depicting the size of his nose to which you can only shake your head. It’s been drastically enlarged, but you love the picture anyway.

However, you don’t love the fact that you start to question whether or not you’ll be forced to throw it away in a couple months.

Once you’re finally back in the hotel room, you both linger in the kitchen, neither of you wanting to go to bed yet. You’re standing with your back against the island and Chan is seated on a barstool next to you.

“What’s your favorite Christmas memory?” You ask, wanting to talk about anything with him.

“Hmmm,” he hums. The question seems to catch him off guard, as if he had other things on his mind. “When I was twelve, my little sister Hannah begged my parents to spend the holiday on Christmas Island. Have you heard of it?”

You shake your head no.

“It’s just east of Australia—not too far from Indonesia. Anyways, she saw it on a map and thought we’d get our presents faster if we were there.”

“Did you?”

“No,” he chuckles. “And we only got half our presents—whatever was small and convenient enough to pack for the trip. On Christmas Eve, me, Hannah and Luke even tried to stay up all night to try to catch Santa on, but they passed out pretty early.”

“You still believed in Santa at age 12?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow.

“For them, I did,” he replies, and you feel your condescending expression soften.

You try to imagine him as an older brother, keeping the magic of Christmas alive for his siblings. It’s an endearing thought. Your mind then drifts to the fact that he’s not spending Christmas with his family this year. You never asked if he typically went back home or stayed at school for winter break. Now you’re wondering if they’re missing him. And that makes you sad to consider.

Chan stands from the barstool, pulling you out of your thoughts and you immediately feel your body adjust to his movements, uncertain if he’s about to walk away.

He stands in front of you and places his hands on your hips. This change in positioning, the closeness, realigns your thought process to focus on him, here and now. What are siblings, even?

“That year I was almost convinced to believe again.” He grips onto your hips and hoists you up onto the countertop without missing a beat. “After they fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard something on the roof…turned out to be the hotel staff adjusting antennas or something though. Bummer.”

“Have you guys ever gone back?”

“Nah,” he says with a shrug but doesn’t elaborate. “What’s Christmas like with your family—any traditions?”

“My parents never did the whole Santa thing,” you tell him. He gives a nod, showing that he’s listening, but his body seems to have a mind of its own as he starts moving the barstools on either side of you, placing one under each foot. “But for as long as I can remember we’d have breakfast for dinner. Waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage…the works. More food than we could ever—”

You pause as he starts to remove your socks. He stops, too, looking up at you and waiting for you to continue. When you resume speaking, he pulls your socks off and tosses them aside.

“We would watch a holiday themed movie—A Christmas Story, Home Alone, The Santa Clause, uhm…” you blink as his hands move to the hem of your shirt and start to lift it over your head.

“And what else?” he asks casually.

“If I could stay up,” you continue as his hands proceed to pull your shirt up and you lift your arms to help, “until midnight, I got to choose one gift under the tree to open.”

He tosses your shirt on the floor with your socks.

“Did you ever make it to midnight?” He asks, hands now focused on pulling down your bottoms. You lift your hips slightly to allow it and he drags them down over your ass.

You momentarily forget to answer as you watch him, transfixed. He gently takes out one leg then the other before letting them join your other clothes on the floor. You’re not sure what’s happening. It baffles you, really. Anyone listening to this conversation wouldn’t assume anything out of the ordinary is taking place. Meanwhile this man now has you in your underwear, legs spread and feet resting on the barstools as he stands between them.

You don’t make any attempt to stop him, though.

“A few times,” you finally reply. “When I did, I always went for the biggest present.”

“Smart girl,” he says, sliding his hands up your legs, then your thighs, until they can’t move any higher. He grips your thighs, letting his eyes fall from yours down your torso until landing between your legs.

He moves his hand to your center as he asks more questions—is Christmas your favorite holiday? What’s the best gift you’ve ever gotten? Do you prefer giving gifts or receiving? All the while rubbing his thumb against your clit, over your underwear. You do your best to answer, but your attempts at speaking become futile. He smiles at this and finally removes your underwear and bra, leaving you naked on the counter while he remains fully clothed.

He abandons his line of questions and focuses instead on making you come with his mouth. He gets no objections from you.

After breakfast, you start the following morning on the beach. The hotel has reserved sections for guests with beach chairs and umbrellas. Chan—already shirtless and tempting—orders you both mimosas. As he’s lying on his own chair with a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes, you stand to remove your cover up, revealing a retro-styled bathing suit—high waisted bottoms and a halter top, tied behind your neck.

When you lay back in your own chair, you become aware of his gaze on you. You look down to make sure you aren’t indecently exposed, but all your bits and pieces are in place.

“How does everything you wear look so good on you?” He asks in an off-handed manner, pulling his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose.

You blush at the unexpected compliment.

“Maybe you’re just thinking about taking it off?”

He considers your sentiment before nodding in agreement.

“Maybe,” he mutters. “Maybe you don’t understand how sexy you are, y/n.”

He winks at you before sliding the glasses back up and looking out at the ocean. A silence falls over you both as the waiter brings your drinks. You cheers, clinking your glasses together before taking a sip.

“Do you think I’m weak?” you ask him, after a moment.

“Weak?” He repeats, sounding taken aback by your question.

“Like…I’m inferior to you and that’s why you can do and say certain things to me?”

You’re just as surprised as him at your own question. It’s been on your mind a lot lately. Especially given how he had his way with you last night and you just let it happen. Not that you didn’t enjoy it.

“No…” he says after a moment. “I don’t think you’re inferior. Or weak.”

“Is it something you like to do with everyone?” You keep your eyes trained on the water in front of you, not wanting to look at him when he answers.

You don’t even like the way your voice sounds when you ask the question. Like you’re afraid of the answer…or jealous. The intimate things you’ve done with Chan, though, are so different than what you’re used to. You know he’s had, at the very least, three sexual partners before you, but you’re curious if they all bent to his will as easily as you do.

“There are certain things I like, sure—being a little rough, for example, is something I could do with anyone. But most of the shit we’ve done? I don’t know how to explain it…”

You glance over at him, but because of the sunglasses he’s wearing you can’t see his eyes. He seems to be taking his time answering. Choosing his words carefully, perhaps.

“I had an assumption about you,” he eventually continues, “and after our first night together, it confirmed that assumption. So, I pushed further and further, and you were always receptive. Or at least you seemed willing. You still do. Do you not like it?”

There’s a sincerity and openness to his tone you’ve never heard before.

“I do,” you reassure him. “I just never knew if you thought less of me or something…because I always cave and give in to what you want.”

“Quite the opposite,” he replies softly. “I knew you’re very strong-willed. I don’t think you’d just let anyone talk to you the way I have or do the things I’ve done to you. The fact that you allow me to do these things to you, that you willingly relinquish control sometimes is what really gives me pleasure.”

You distract yourself by taking another sip of your mimosa to keep from smiling at his words. You’ve never heard him say such kind things about you. But he’s felt them and seen them, seen you this entire time.

“I think a large part of my willingness has to do with you…” you tell him. “I never thought I’d actually like someone telling me what to do. But you carry yourself with an undeniable amount of confidence…an alpha-male energy, if you will, that gives me an enjoyable kind of fear that I feel like I can be safe in? If that makes sense.”

He nods his head slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“So, if I told you to take that top off right now…” he trails off.

“You wouldn’t,” you say, looking around at all the people and families—literal children on the beach.

“I wouldn’t,” he agrees. “Not here.”

And there it is. It’s like there has always been an unspoken agreement between the two of you, right from the start. He will push you out of your comfort zone, but there are limitations. Even that day in the park when you thought he was going to have you suck his dick out in the open.

“None of these people are worthy of seeing you in that state,” he adds, and you just roll your eyes.

You spend the next few hours at the beach together. You venture out into the water, but not too far in. You latch yourself onto Chan’s back as he treads through the water, kissing his shoulders, hugging him tight. Happy to be with him freely.

By the time you make it back to the hotel room, it’s nearly 3:00pm. You both have to shower quickly and get ready for the evening plans. You’re in the bathroom, applying the final touches to your makeup when Chan walks in. You see his reflection through the mirror and your jaw drops. He’s clad in black slacks and a black button up shirt—the top few buttons undone as usual, just how you like it. The shirt is tucked in, and a black belt is looped around his slender hips. His hair is parted on the side, dark bangs hanging over the right side of his forehead. His accessories—earrings, necklace, bracelet, and rings are all silver. He looks so fucking handsome. You fight with yourself to not tear every piece of clothing off him immediately.

He smiles at your reaction, giving your outfit a nod of approval as well; it compliments his. The two-piece set is black with tan colored flowers across it. The high waisted skirt, with a mid-thigh slit, hugs your mid-section and flows down your lower half. The top is a cropped spaghetti strap with a plunge v-neck, leaving plenty of cleavage on display.

You toss your lip gloss into your purse before zipping it up and taking a few steps back from the bathroom sink, checking out your own reflection once more.

“You ready?” He asks as he comes to stand behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and leans down, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You nod your head, but you’re unable to tear your gaze away from the sight in the mirror. You’ve never seen the two of you together like this. You don’t even try to hide the smile that breaks out on your face. You look good together.

He kisses your neck before standing up straight.

“Let’s go.”

Your itinerary for tonight is a tour of the infamous Versace mansion followed by dinner on the premises. It only felt right you’d both be dressed to the nines.

After you get your shoes on and head out of the hotel room, Chan keeps his hand around your waist. In fact, he hardly lets go of you the entire night, except during the meal. If he doesn’t have his arm around your shoulders or waist, he’s holding your hand. It all just makes you so fucking happy and you’re delusional enough at this point to indulge in the façade. You’ve stopped trying to remind yourself that these niceties are just him playing a part.

When you get back from dinner, you and Chan go straight to the dimly lit balcony to enjoy the view and some fresh air. There are two wicker chairs with cushions and a small table between them. It’s dark and so quiet that even the sound of the waves crashing against the shore reach all the way up to where you are. It’s peaceful. Part of you wishes the two of you could stay here forever and never face reality.

“What’re you thinking about?” Chan asks, catching you zoned out.

“Life,” you reply simply with a shrug.

“Yikes,” he responds with a chuckle. “Let’s not do that yet. Come over here.” he says, jerking his head.

You stand from your seat and take a few small steps until you’re standing directly in front of him, between his legs. Your eyes drift down to his chest, exposed by the top buttons he has left undone. You can already feel your pulse quicken in anticipation from the tone he’s using, the way he’s looking at you.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about ever since we got here?”

You shake your head.

“Fucking you on this balcony,” he grips the back of your thigh and pulls you closer. He rubs his nose along the exposed skin on your stomach, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. His hand slides around to the front of your thigh, searching for the slit in your skirt. He trails kisses across your stomach as he finds it and pulls up the thin fabric.

You glance around you, nervous about being out in the open. Your room is on the corner of the hotel, facing the water. There aren’t any adjacent windows where anyone could see. Plus you’re so high up, it’d be difficult for anyone on the ground to make out what you’re up to. But still, it feels risky. Maybe that’s supposed to be the point.

His hand stops moving higher when he reaches the apex of your thighs, fingers dancing along the outside of your underwear. He leans back and tucks the extra fabric of the skirt into your waistband so it’s out of the way, then pulls aside your underwear with his pointer finger.

He licks his lips as the sight of your exposed pussy just inches from his mouth.

“You gonna let me?” he asks, trailing his fingers up your inner thighs with his other hand.

“Yes,” you reply, nodding and unable to take your eyes off him.

He rubs his fingers in circles against your pussy, middle finger pressed against your clit.

“All fucking day I’ve thought about touching you,” he says, watching you closely, to see every little reaction to his touch. “You don’t know how bad I wanted to lift this skirt and fuck you in the taxi on the way to dinner.”

You moan as your hips start moving against his fingers.

“Oh?” He says in response to your movements. “You would have liked that? Me fucking you in the back of the taxi?”

Yes. The thought of him seeing you and being unable to control himself, needing to fuck you wherever you are does something to you.

His fingers momentarily leave your pussy so his other hand can pull down your underwear. You step out of them, and he places them next to him in the chair. His fingers resume their work, his other hand reaches behind you to grip your ass and pull you closer to his face.

“Take out your tits,” he says before placing a kiss above your pussy.

You nervously glance over your shoulder again.

“Hey,” he calls your attention back to him, halting his movements. He waits for you to lock eyes with him. “Trust me.”

Trust me. It sounds more like a request than a demand. You do trust him. You trust him completely to handle your body with care, to not jeopardize either of you. You wish you could trust him with your heart.

With the plunge neck top you’re wearing it’s easier to just reach in and pull them out, rather than taking the top off. You lift them out and they rest on top of the shirt, making them even perkier, nipples erect as soon as the cool night air hits them.

His hand leaves your ass to cup your breast, squeezing it softly, pinching the nipple between his pointer and thumb fingers, rolling it back and forth. You rest your hands on his shoulders, caressing them.

When he suddenly stands, your hands fall to his chest. He grips the back of your neck with his hand, holding your head in place, just staring into your eyes as his other hand keeps rubbing your pussy. You instinctively raise your leg and set your foot on the chair to allow him better access.

“You’re incredible,” he declares before pressing his lips to yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you melt against him. At his words, at his touch. You tilt your head upwards as he kisses you, parting your lips to allow his tongue to enter. His tongue glides against yours and you moan into his mouth.

As he withdraws, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it lightly. He removes both of his hands from you, places a quick peck on your lips then walks over to the railing of the balcony. You’re left standing there, panting and exposed. He turns around, leans his back against the railing, then beckons you to him. You timidly place a hand over your breasts as you walk to him, covering yourself. He arches an eyebrow and as soon as you’re close enough, he lowers your hand.

“I told you about that,” he scolds you. “Don’t hide from me.”

He hooks a finger into the fabric of your top, right at the cleavage, and uses it to bring you the rest of the way to him, until you’re pulled flush against him.

It’s only the third day of your trip but you’ve already come to realize he’s capable of fucking you in many ways. He has not used his authoritative tone with you until tonight. He slips back into his commanding role with ease, and you submit without question. But now you can see more of him through it. The conversations you’ve had have shown a different side to him. You were physically attracted to him before, obviously. But now you see more of Chan through his behavior. And you’re growing more attracted to him. For who he is and not just the way he makes you feel when he fucks you.

You begin to lower yourself to your knees, wanting to take him in your mouth, but he stops you and spins you around. He switches positions with you so your ribs are pressed against the railing, exposed tits hanging out for anyone looking to see. Which, you pray, is no one. He lifts your skirt again, scrunching it together with one hand at the small of your back.

You hear him unbuckle his pants and push them down. You lick your lips in anticipation, hips moving of their own accord as you stare out at the darkened ocean in front of you. You would have never imagined yourself doing something like this just a few months ago.

Your attention snaps back to Chan as you feel his cock rubbing against your opening. He lets out a soft groan from behind you as you arch your back, pushing your ass out towards him.

“Fuck, y/n,” he says, still teasing your opening. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder, first glancing down at his cock rubbing against you, then up to his face.

“You know I do,” is your soft reply.

He slaps his palm down onto your ass and grips it, causing you to whimper and moan.

“My girl always fucking wants it.”

You bite your lip and turn back around to face the endless horizon in front of you. To focus on that instead of the words he’s just said.

My girl.

He thrusts into you, and you shut your eyes, dropping your head. You want to focus on fucking him and not that phrase. Quite possibly the most beautiful phrase in the English language when falling from his lips.

My girl.

His other hand tangles itself in your hair, pulling your head back as he rams into you.

My. Girl.

Your eyes snap open but you’re no longer seeing anything, no longer thinking anything. You are nothing but his girl right now. You grip the railing and force your hips back against him, fucking him hard and fast until he comes.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” he groans.

Neither of you expected it to happen so quickly. It honestly feels like an achievement, knowing how long he can hold out when he wants to.

He leans onto you, chin resting on your shoulder as you both catch your breath.

“Chan,” you say, leaning to the side and turning your head to look at him. “Get me off this fucking balcony.”

He laughs and nods. He slowly withdraws his cock from inside you and pulls his boxers and pants back up without buttoning them. In one fell swoop he scoops you up into his arms—one hand on your back, the other under your knees. He carries you back inside and sits you down on the couch.

“Wait here,” he tells you.

He heads off into the bedroom and you hear the sound of running water. You rest your head on the back of the couch and stare up at the ceiling. You can’t deny how fun, exciting, exhilarating that was but you’re glad to be back inside where no one can see.

Chan returns a few minutes later in just a shirt and his boxers. He offers his hand out to you, which you take, then guides you into the bedroom. The main lights are off, but the one above the bathtub in the room is on. The water is still running, but the tub is already halfway full.

He brings you to a stop at the side of the tub and silently undresses you, kissing your skin as it’s exposed. He then picks you up again and places you into the bathtub and you immediately relax in its warmth—it’s the perfect temperature.

He remains outside of the tub, seated on one of the stools next to it. He reaches across you to turn the water off and for some reason you find it hard to look at him. This sort of treatment, from him, is new to you. He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing from your knuckles up your arm.

“I can’t stop touching you…and I think it could be a problem,” he says, smiling.

“Then don’t,” you say, with all the seriousness you can muster.

He proceeds to run his hand across your body until he finds your pussy again, beneath the water. He slips his fingers inside of you, fucking you and working your clit to bring you to an orgasm.

“Chan,” you pant as you feel it approach.

You reach your hand out of the tub, grabbing the collar of his shirt. You pull on it with all your might and his expression turns to one of surprise as you pull him up and over into the bathtub with you. He doesn’t let this distract him too long though, he adjusts himself on his knees, his thighs keeping your legs apart and pushed against the side of the tub. His fingers keep thrusting into you, thumb circling your clit. Your hands find their way to his hair and pull his mouth against yours as you come.

Your hips rock against his fingers while you pant and moan through your release. He removes his fingers and looks down at himself—soaked shirt and boxers.

You start to laugh at the sight, and he joins you.

“I’m not even sorry,” you say.

You reach your hands out to unbutton his wet shirt and toss it onto the floor. He removes his boxers and repositions both of you, so his back is against the tub, and your back is pressed against his chest. You lean your head back against him, eyes shut.

You don’t know how long the two of you stay in the tub, but once the water starts to get cold, Chan lets some of it out then runs more warm water in. He grabs your body wash from outside the tub and you both wash up with it. There’s only one towel near the tub, so he steps out to grab it and offers it to you. You look up at his dripping figure, wondering how you got here but not wanting to question it too deeply.

When you’re both dry and in clean pajamas, you waste no time before hopping into bed to get warm again. He pulls you to him, kissing your bare shoulder.

You don’t say goodnight. You don’t say anything.

You don’t need to.

a/n: oh my goodness. what a tangled web they're weaving. but i promise, your hearts will be safe in the end. i'm excited to hear your thoughts 😁🩵

i have no idea why tumblr is being a cunt and fucking with the taglist. it will take five names and then no more, no matter if i try it in the original post, a reblog, or in the comments. i am sorry. i hope this still finds you 😞

#stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #bang chan #skz smut #the skz house #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you

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felixbit · 8 hours

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employee discount, p2

pairing: jeongin x gn!reader w. 1.5k genre: fluff, coffee shop au summary: part 2 of this fic, where you learn jeongin, a cute barista, has been giving you the employee discount at the coffee shop you frequent. after giving you his number, you decide to give it a chance. warnings: none a/n: this was super fun to write! there will be a part 3 (maybe not immediately), and it will be the final part of this story! thank you for all the support on this story :)

Ever since you walked out of the coffee shop with Jeongin's phone number on your cup, you've been smitten.

You thought that the little crush you'd had on the barista was a normal thing for a regular to have at their local shop. A cute worker was part of the fun of going. It turned out, understanding that he was at least the slightest bit interested turned you into a maniac.

After getting his number, you saved his contact in your phone and shot him a text a few hours later (and many attempts at psyching yourself up to do it) briefly saying hi and who you were. His response was almost instant.

jeongin: hey! was wondering when you'd say something

Even just one message had your heart stirring and jumping to conclusions. How long had you kept him waiting for? You forced a response out anyways.

y/n: worried i wouldn't say anything?

A pause. His texting bubble popped up once, went away, and back again.

jeongin: a bit. y/n: i'm here now!

Now that the first hurdle had been jumped through, things seemed to flow a little more naturally. His conversations over text felt as cordial as talking to him behind the counter, so you got the feeling he wasn't faking interest when you'd spoken in the past.

Originally you'd sat down to have a quick text chat with him before doing the rest of what you needed to on your lunch break. Unfortunately for you, Jeongin seemed a little too interesting and time slipped by quickly. Before you knew it, your allotted time to eat and relax was over.

y/n: bad news jeongin: what's up? y/n: lunch break's over. didn't even realize we'd been talking that long jeongin: oh gosh, i'm sorry for taking up your time! don't go hungry because of me y/n: pay me back in coffee tomorrow? jeongin: deal

After sending that text and clocking back into your shift, it dawned on you that what you said sounded a bit like a date invitation. Surely he knew that just meant you coming in normally, right? Not that you would be against a date. You considered writing a text to clarify but decided against it to get focused on work.

Throughout the rest of the day, you were plagued by thoughts of Jeongin. Normally you'd think of him once or twice and a smile would come to your face, but multiple times an hour was starting to get excessive. He was just a barista, wasn't he?

Your shift finally came to an end. As you were going home, your mind was still buzzing at the promise of seeing Jeongin tomorrow. It was almost hilarious how excited you were to see the guy you saw almost every day of the week. It wasn't even going to be that different than how you always saw him.

You got to eat your lunch when you finally settled in at your apartment. Maybe it was eating and thinking that got your mind away, but you found yourself opening your phone and searching up the name 'Jeongin' on social media. It wasn't a surprise there were quite a few people in the area with his name, but you searched anyways.

As you scrolled, one account caught your eye. The profile picture seemed like it could be him but the username confused you a bit. "i.2.n.8"? His display name was Jeongin, and when you opened the account it was almost immediately confirmed it was him. Username aside, you began to dig into his posts.

He was just gorgeous. There was no other way to put it. Every post was taken in a way that looked like he wasn't trying but somehow turned out perfect. The entire account seemed to have an unintentional aesthetic and you just couldn't stop scrolling and zooming in on photos.

Against your better judgment, you followed him. It wasn't five minute before he followed you back and you saw a text message pop up.

jeongin: stalker much? y/n: guilty

That night was fun. Your text exchange lasted almost another hour before you decided to go out. It pained you to say goodbye but you knew it was best not to burn out on conversation before you saw him next.

The next day rolled around and you were way too nervous about going out. You put on a work outfit that looked what you thought was your best and made sure to look as exceptional as you could.

The time came where you had to leave your apartment and face him. The trip over to the coffee shop was short as usual and a little too calm for how you felt inside. You approached the doors and peered inside, seeing Jeongin behind the bar hard at work.

Gaining your strength, you opened the door and walked in. Jeongin peered up from his coffee he was making and gave you a warm smile. You couldn't contain the feelings that felt like they were blooming in your chest. Either way, you continued on towards him.

"Good morning," Jeongin said in a sing-song voice as you approached, not looking up from his work.

You peered over the counter to see the cream design he was pouring into the cup, "Good morning, what are you making?"

"Ah, a little frog. I saw a video of someone making it and I wanted to give it a try," Jeongin snickered as he finished and showed you, "Looks a little lopsided, though."

It was true that the frog wasn't perfect, but it was perfectly cute. "It's wonderful. I love him."

"Well, if you like it, I like it," He said as he slid the coffee out and called out the name for the order. A man walked up and took the drink, smiling at the design. Jeongin turned his attention back to you. "What are we getting today?"

The two of you walked over to the register just as you had the morning before, "The same thing I get every day."

You began to grab your wallet from your pocket and Jeongin held out a hand, shaking his head. "My treat today. Pay you back in coffee, remember?"

A free drink was hard to say no to. You stuffed your wallet back in your pocket as he input your order into the system and punched in something that took the total down to zero. Jeongin really was sweet, wasn't he?

As he broke away from the cash register and walked back to the bar to start your drink, he looked up at you. "So, you went and found my socials yesterday?"

Your face flushed a bit. Even though it was true, you weren't expecting to be put on the spot for it. "Well, yeah. Couldn't help it."

Jeongin smiled deep. He was looking down at your drink, but his dimples gave him away. "Why's that?"

Again, not an easy question to answer honestly. "Your favorite barista gives you his number, why wouldn't you look him up?"

"Okay," Jeongin nodded, "Did I hold up to your expectations?"

After finding his page the day before you ended up looking at it an embarrassing amount of times. "I liked it, yeah. Did you like mine?"

"Yeah, it was so you," Jeongin looked up and you noticed a small flush on his cheeks, "That's a good thing, by the way."

You couldn't help but laugh. He was so charming and sweet, but he still had a bit of that boyish charm. "Thanks, I'd hope it was," You said, "How's it going over there?"

"Almost done, you keep me distracted," Jeongin grabbed a lid and popped it on your drink, holding it over the bar for you to grab from his hand, "There."

You reached over and took it from him, your fingers slightly touching and your heart pulled a few somersaults. God, this was a high school crush all over again. "It looks perfect, as always."

"My pleasure," Jeongin wiped down the bar with a cloth. You saw him stop for a moment, his eyes trained on something and his breathing was a little hard. He looked up and met your eyes, "Would you want to go out sometime?"

Oh. Oh shit. Maybe his flirting was a bit overt, but the question still caught you off guard. You stood there shell shocked for a few seconds as your brain relentlessly tried to reboot and catch up. Realizing you needed to respond, you nodded a little too hard. "Yes, yeah, I'd love that."

Before you could cringe at your own words, you saw the brightest smile on Jeongin's face. You'd never seen him smile so hard, but it certifiably made your heart melt. He nodded and seemed to compose himself. "You probably have to go to work, text me later about the details?"

You checked the time, muttering a small oh shit under your breath. A bit behind schedule, but you'd get away with it. No part of you wanted to leave him now that you agreed to a date, but duty calls. "Yeah, you're right. I definitely will!" You said as you began to walk towards the door.

"See you later!" He called out from the bar as you opened the door and walked out. Oh, shit. It was happening!

#jeongin #yang jeongin #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #i.n #i.n x reader #skz imagines #skz fic #stray kids imagines

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hungermakesmonsters · 1 day

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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eight

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Mention of periods (don't worry, we're not doing Saltburn), smutty behaviour, use of toys. More sickening cuteness. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5k

A/N : It's not exactly a cliffhanger but I get the feeling people won't like where it ends... Oh also spoilers for Jane Eyre (but it's 170 years old so I'm assuming people know the twist?)

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eight

The gentle touch of his fingers on your cheek woke you and, for a few seconds, you weren’t sure where you were. Billy was crouched in front of you, smiling softly. Your eyes threatened to close again, feeling exhausted and like all of it was just a dream.

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his fingers still tenderly caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?”

Finally, you managed to wake yourself up enough to realise that you weren’t dreaming, and that you’d fallen asleep on the sofa beneath the yellow blanket Billy had bought for you.

“I’m fine, just tired,” you told him, slowly sitting up.

Billy remained crouched in front of you, tenderly cupping your cheek and looking almost concerned.

“Did you draw too much blood again?”

“No, it's not that. I did that hours ago. I'm just really tired.”

“Just tired?” He pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

“And my head hurts a little.”

“When is, uh -” he hesitated, almost looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, “- when is your next period due?”

Your cheeks warmed with both the realisation and the fact that Billy had figured it out before you. That was why you felt so awful. “Soon, I think? I-I lost track of the days after I moved in,” you explained, “and I've never been very, uh… regular…”

Thankfully, Billy just nodded and sat himself beside you, an arm around you pulling you into his side.

“Do you need to go lay down?”

“No I - I want to spend time with you,” you told him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We didn't really get to finish talking last night…”

“Was there something else you wanted to say or ask?” Billy asked softly, shifting a little so you could get comfortable against him.

You stayed silent for a few moments, thinking over all of the things you wanted to ask, wondering what you had the right to ask. “What causes it? What makes you feel like everything is... too much? I’ve only ever seen a vampire lose control from hunger...”

“Sometimes it’s hunger,” he offered reluctantly, “other times it’s just... I don’t know. Even before I was turned, I was never any good at controlling my emotions. And, now, I feel like I’m constantly fighting myself. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m drowning. Everything about you; your scent, the taste of your blood, the way your heart races... it’s a lot to try and ignore.”

Although the words were spoken to you, about you, you knew better than to read too much into them. It was the constant proximity, he probably felt that way around any human after enough time. It wasn’t because he felt anything for you.

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he admitted, waiting for a beat before asking; “why did you apologise? I lost control but you apologised.”

“Because I -” you stopped yourself before the lie managed to leave your lips. It hadn’t been your fault, as difficult as it was for you to accept that fact, you knew it was true. “Because I’ve always been made to feel like it’s my fault when bad things happen to me. The night we met, you asked me what I was running from, and that’s part of it; I was raised to feel ashamed and believe I deserved everything bad that happened to me.”

You heard him inhale sharply before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He was silent a moment before speaking again.

“Who left you?” He asked softly. You lifted your head, frowning. “Last night when you asked why I was leaving you it just… you sounded hurt, like someone had left you before…”

“My sister,” you answered, “she left home when she was eighteen and my parents disowned her because of it. She said she'd come back for me, but she never did.”

“Why did she leave?”

“My parents wanted her to marry a guy she didn’t want to marry.”

“Is that why you left?” He asked and immediately seemed to regret it when your gaze dropped. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

A moment later, you snuggled back into his side and closed your eyes. “How long until you have to go to work?”

“I can stay another twenty minutes,” he told you softly, slipping his arm around you. He was silent for a few minutes, before letting out a slow exhale. “I’m not going to be able to see you for a few days, it’s not safe for me to be around you while you’re...”

He didn’t have to say it for you to understand and, as much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew it wouldn’t be fair to try and force the issue. Now that you had some idea of how he felt and how much of a struggle it was for him to be around you sometimes, you knew Billy needed space.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

You stayed that way for another twenty-five minutes until you gently reminded Billy that he was going to be late for work. He didn’t seem to want to leave you and it made your heart ache to think about why that might be. Though, rationally, you understood that it wasn’t you; he was just tired. You were finally starting to understand just how difficult and exhausting it was for him just to get through a day.

He gave you a soft kiss and told you that he’d see you again soon.

The next morning when you woke up cramping and feeling terrible, until you found that he’d left a gift basket in your kitchen, filled with things you might need over the coming days; painkillers, chocolates, a new smart-watch with a cycle tracking app, a heating-pad, various toiletries and a large teddy bear with a note pinned to his chest.

I thought you and Bill the Beagle might want some company.

Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.

Butterflies filled your stomach at the thoughtfulness of the gifts and, later that afternoon, when you left blood for him, you couldn’t resist leaving him a note of your own.

Thank you for your considerate gifts. William the Bear is a wonderful addition to my growing stuffie collection and the chocolates were lovely. Hope you have a good night at work.

xoxo

The next day you felt even worse but, again, you were pleasantly surprised when you managed to drag yourself to the kitchen to get breakfast and some coffee. There was another box of chocolates and another note waiting for you.

William is a terrible name for a bear. I didn’t expect you to get through the chocolates so quickly, remind me to stock up next month. I hope you’ve not been watching Black Sails without me.

Take care

And, of course - of course - you had to reply, leaving your note with his blood again.

I happen to like the name William. I think it suits him. He looks like a William. I hope you’re not trying to shame me for enjoying the chocolates, truffles and caramels are my weakness. Don’t worry, I’ve not been watching anything without you, I’ve been reading. You were right, Jane Eyre was a very apt choice.

xoxo

His notes became your reason to get up in the morning, though they were a bittersweet reminder of his noticeable absence in your life. It filled you with a strange yearning and an uncomfortable sadness to think about him out there on his own. But that was a silly thought. You didn’t know anything about his life outside of the penthouse, about his work or his friends, maybe he wasn’t even noticing your absence.

(Or maybe he felt it just as much as you did.)

Okay, I have to ask; what does a William look like? Of course I’d never shame you for enjoying the chocolates, but now you’ve told me your weakness I might have to use it to my advantage. I hope you’re enjoying Jane Eyre more than you enjoyed Dorian Gray.

I hope you’re not feeling too bad. I miss our talks.

Your heart stuttered as you read and reread those four little words; I miss our talks. He missed you. Maybe not quite in the same way that you were missing him but, still, it made you long for him even more.

Well, in my experience Williams tend to be cute and cuddly, even though they look a little dark and brooding at first glance. Oh no! Please don’t use my weakness for chocolate truffles against me!!! (The extra exclamation marks are so you read that in a sarcastic tone.) Yes, I think I like Jane Eyre more than Dorian Gray - Mr Rochester kind of reminds me of you.

I’m feeling a bit better today, I should be fine in a couple of days. I miss spending time with you too. I hope you’re not too lonely without me around.

xoxo

You doodled a little picture of the teddy bear he’d given you on the corner of the note but gave him a grumpy looking face and a tag that read ‘my name is William’.

There was a strange feeling of embarrassment when you left the note and you almost changed your mind about it halfway back to your room, and you spent the rest of the evening wondering if it was a little too much.

So, the next morning, you felt a little reluctant to go into the kitchen, and had to take a deep breath before reading his note.

Dark and brooding?? I think you might have to elaborate, but I’ll let you save that for when I see you next. I hope that there will come a point in the book where Mr Rochester doesn’t remind you of me quite so much (I don’t know where you’re up to and I don’t want to spoil it).

I’m glad you’re feeling better. The penthouse isn’t the same without you. It’s strange, you’ve only been here a couple of months yet and it already feels empty without you. I miss you.

P.S. Is the doodle supposed to be me or the stuffie?

It felt like your head was spinning as you read, reread, and read again.

He missed you.

Billy missed you.

You spent half the day writing and rewriting your note to him, in one attempt confessing your feelings, in another acting completely blaise about his confession. Nothing you came up with felt right but the thought of not replying seemed worse.

I see what you mean about Mr Rochester... though I don’t know if I can completely rule out the possibility of you having a strange woman tucked away somewhere in the penthouse. It would certainly explain where all of the chocolates have been going.

I miss you too. I know what you mean, I feel the same way, like I’ve been here longer. But I suppose that’s how things feel when you get close to someone. Hope to see you tomorrow.

xoxo

P.S. I’ll never tell. An artist never reveals her secrets.

There was no end to your relief the next morning when you woke up finally feeling better, knowing that you’d be able to see Billy again. Part of you expected not to find a note, but there it was, waiting for you on your kitchen table, just like the others had been.

I can think of a less mysterious explanation for the disappearance of your chocolates, little hummingbird.

I’m not used to missing people. I’m not used to being close to them either. Some days I feel like my whole life has turned upside down since I met you. I can’t wait to see you again.

P.S. I think it’s magicians that never reveal their secrets, not artists.

Again, he left you searching for deeper meaning in every word, your heart aching for a man who seemed so lonely and alone, a man who didn’t deserve that life at all.

After breakfast you showered and washed your hair, wanting to look your best when you saw him again.

Slowly but surely, over the course of the day, your nerves started to eat away at you; what were you going to say to him? Were you going to pretend that the notes hadn’t happened and that their contents was just idle talk to help the other feel less alone?

You couldn’t sit still as you waited, counting down the hours before sunset, perched on the edge of the sofa and watching his door. The moment it started to open, you were on your feet.

Before he had the chance to even realise that you were there, you’d cleared the distance between you, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. Billy let out a breath but, for the life of you, you couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or simply because you were squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Hey,” he muttered, his arm slipping around you and holding you almost as tight as you were holding him.

A minute or two passed, neither of you moving or saying anything, until he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and your grip on him started to loosen. You didn’t pull away, but gave yourself enough space to look up at him, smiling shyly as your cheeks started to warm.

“Hi.”

“Hi, hummingbird.”

Neither of you seemed to know what to do or where you were supposed to go from there so, again, you both fell silent, still holding each other. Finally, you dared to reach for him, placing your hand on his cheek. His eyes closed and he leaned into your touch, and butterflies began to swarm in your stomach. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you lifted onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

It was a soft, chaste kiss, nothing at all compared to some of the kisses that you’d shared, but you felt his lips pull into a smile against yours before his eyes finally opened again.

“I missed you,” he admitted in little more than a whisper.

His hand moved to rest on your neck and you found yourself glad of his cold touch after what seemed like so long without it.

“I missed you too,” you confessed, “I - I missed you more than I probably should have.”

If Billy understood what you were trying to tell him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just shook his head and smiled before kissing you again.

You sank against him letting him deepen the kiss and turn it into something else, something new. Normally when he kissed you it felt explosive and desperate, like he was laying claim to you, but this kiss was tender and filled with longing, like he was savouring being with you again. It stole the breath from your lungs.

“I missed you,” he muttered again.

“You already said that.”

“I know, I just -” his head shook, and he let out a huffed laugh, “- this has felt like one of the longest weeks of my life.”

“Have you been okay? Was it -” you hesitated, not sure you wanted to ask the question, “- was it easier without me around?”

Billy pulled back a little, frowning. “Why would it be easier?”

“The other night, you said you feel like you’re drowning when you’re with me,” you shrugged a little, letting your gaze drop for a moment.

Before the notes, you’d assumed that everyone made him feel that way, that it was just part of being a vampire for him. But, now, after his last note and after that kiss, part of you longed for him to admit that it was more, that it was you, that he felt something for you, that he cared.

“I was wrong,” he told you, waiting until you looked up again to continue, “I feel like I’m drowning without you.”

“Oh.” Whatever you’d expected, it hadn’t been that.

“It’s a lot. I know it’s a lot -”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, it’s not.”

“I wish I could’ve met you in another life. I wish it wasn’t like this.”

The words caused your chest to ache, understand what he was saying and why because you felt the same way; the situation was a mess and all either of you could do was make the best of it.

There was more you could say - more you wanted to say - but it didn’t feel like the right time, and it wasn’t fair for you to try and push anything when you had every intention of leaving him once you’d finished your year. So, instead, you pressed yourself against him and hugged him tight.

Once you’d managed to pull away from each other, you spent the next hour sitting with him on the sofa, talking while he drank, trading gentle touches and kisses until he needed to leave. You followed him to the elevator, not sure if he was keeping hold of your hand or if it was the other way around.

It took a couple of weeks for things to start to return to some sort of normal between you.

Karen noticed the first time she saw you, mentioning that you seemed distracted as you walked through Central Park together (thankfully with no sign of Madani in sight), but she didn’t bring it up until you were sitting together a week later, having lunch in a little coffee shop.

“Is everything alright with you and Billy?” She asked, deciding to just go for it.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you answered. And it was fine. You were happy. You just could stop thinking about what he’d said to you and how you wished that things could be just a little bit different so you could both be happy.

“I know Billy’s my friend and you don’t really know me all that well, but you can talk to me if something’s bothering you. Or if he’s done something to bother you.”

There was something in her voice, something knowing that you really didn’t like. But how could she know what was going on with you and Billy, when you didn’t even know yourself?

“Everything’s fine, honestly. It’s great, actually. We’ve been really getting on lately; we’ve been hanging out talking about books and I’ve been making him watch Black Sail on Netflix,” you told her.

Karen nodded, though it didn’t look like she believed you, but she let it drop, leaving you with the sneaking suspicion that she knew a little more about the way Billy was than she wanted to let on.

Your quiet evenings with Billy slowly started to become a little more physical again, though neither of you seemed in a rush to try and push for sex again. Instead, most evenings he’d end up with his head between your thighs, or you’d slip your hand into his pants while you made out. And, even though you found yourself longing for more, you didn’t want to push him. No, you wanted to take things slowly, wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t get overwhelmed again before you took that next step.

Time seemed to fly by and it wasn’t long before the whole penthouse was being turned upside down in anticipation of Billy’s big party; live music, caterers, decorators and, of course, more blood than you felt comfortable seeing in one place. The whole place was transformed over the course of three days and, when the night finally came, you felt almost sick with nerves.

Even Billy had a strange energy about him, checking and double checking every little thing, including a security team from his company whose presence he seemed reluctant to explain to you. You watched from the sofa as he led them around the apartment, explaining where he wanted them and which areas of the penthouse were off-limits. He introduced you to one of them, a human man called Curtis who would be spending the night near the door to your quarters if you needed any help during the night (and, again, Billy didn’t explain what that meant).

A couple of hours before the guests were due to arrive, you went to shower and draw blood before doing your hair and makeup, and getting changed into your dress and shoes. For a few minutes you found yourself staring at your reflection, hoping to find some of the confidence you’d had that night in the dressing room with Billy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, it only took a moment for his eyes to find you, his jaw threatening to drop as he took in the sight of you. His appearance had the same effect on you; his well tailored tux had you biting your lip.

“Wow, Russo, you really know how to pick them,” Curtis called across the penthouse, earning himself a withering look from Billy and causing your cheeks to heat.

Billy made his way towards you, not bothering to hide the way his eyes were taking in every inch of you. When he reached you, he placed a hand on your hip and kissed your cheek.

“I got you a present,” he told you, using his hand to start guiding you towards the library, pausing momentarily to tell Curtis and his team that they could go take a break before the party started.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as he led you into the library and towards the seldom used desk by the window. Waiting for you were three boxes, each beautifully wrapped in silver paper and tied with black ribbon. Without thought, you found yourself gripping Billy’s arm as your legs threatened to turn to jello beneath you.

He smiled softly, picking up the first box and handing it to you.

“Open it,” he instructed, managing to sound as excited as you felt about this whole exchange.

It felt wrong to destroy the immaculate wrapping, so you took your time, carefully untying the ribbon and peeling open the paper to get at the box. You removed the lid and there, in amongst black tissue paper was an ornate black and silver mask.

“It’s for the party tonight,” he told you when you looked at him for clarification, “we wear the masks until midnight and then take them off. It’s supposed to symbolise vampires being seen by society, but really it’s just an excuse to have fun while no one knows who you are.”

You laughed, head shaking. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

But he didn’t give you time to linger, gently taking the box and mask from your hand before offering you the next present, seeming to get more eager with each passing second. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Your breath caught as you opened the second box. It was a beautiful choker style necklace with diamanté detailing - at least, you assumed that it was diamanté because you couldn’t even start to imagine how much it would have cost if they were real diamonds. For a few seconds you were lost for words.

“Here, let me,” he offered, pulling the necklace from the box before you even had the chance to answer him. Billy stepped behind you, gently draping it around your neck and fastening it for you.

Your fingers immediately reached up to touch it; it felt a little heavy around your neck and you’d never had a choker style necklace before, but the feel of it would be a constant reminder of Billy and you loved that.

“Thank you, Billy,” you finally managed, turning and wrapping your arms around him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“There’s one more.” He reached for the last present but seemed a little more reluctant to hand it to you.

And once you’d opened it, you understood why.

“Oh...” said somewhere between shock and confusion.

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, especially not after the mask and the choker, but a new sex toy certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks heated as you looked at the box, trying to make sense of it, the words discreet and remote play only confused you more.

“I want you to wear this for the party,” he told you, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “if you want to, I mean. If it’s too much, I get it. I just - I thought we could have some fun. And there’s going to be so many people, I guess I want to know you’ll spend the night thinking about me...”

Your cheeks continued to burn, part horrified by the notion, but a much larger part couldn’t help but find the idea interesting, arousing even. And, after everything that had happened between you, part of you was still longing for more.

“You want me to spend the night thinking about you?” You asked quietly.

“More than anything,” he answered in little more than a whisper, like he knew it was something he shouldn’t say.

It felt like your heart leapt into your throat for a few seconds and you struggled to swallow around it. All you could think about was that night a couple of weeks ago, how he told you it felt like he was drowning when he wasn’t with you, and you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. (You didn’t want to say no to him.)

“Okay,” you finally answered, “how do I...?”

“Let me,” he offered, perhaps a little too eagerly, taking the box from your hand, muttering something about how he’d cleaned it and charged it ready before wrapping it.

You bit your lip, watching as he pulled the purple silicone toy out of the box, knowing that he could hear your heart pounding. Then he kissed you, slipping his tongue between your lips and enjoying you for a few moments. When he pulled back he began to trace your lips with the tip of the toy before slipping it into your mouth, causing your cheeks to burn hotter.

You watched him suck his fingers, leaving them glistening with saliva before dropping to his knees and slipping them beneath your dress and into your panties. His free hand nudged your knee and you parted your trembling legs a little further while his fingers stirred between your folds, wetting you before slowly slipping into you.

You moaned softly as his fingers slowly started to pump inside you, twisting and bending, easily finding that special spot.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, feeling like your legs were going to give out. Another soft moan escaped you when he looked up at you, holding your gaze as his fingers filled you, over and over. You clenched around him as he licked his lips, knowing that he was imagining the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

“You can come whenever you need to,” he told you, smiling up at you like he was in awe of you.

“Billy...” you moaned, your voice muffled by the toy in your mouth, hating how close you were to falling apart.

Your walls clenched and tightened around his fingers again, but you were already so wet that you couldn’t hold onto him or make him slow. There was something about all of this that seemed so obscene, so dirty, and it just made you want it ever more. His fingers hit that sweet spot one more time and it was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs started to tremble and your thighs pressed together, trying to keep his fingers inside you.

And, all the while, Billy smiled up at you.

A needy whine slipped out when he pulled away his hand, but you soon fell silent when he took the toy from your mouth. Your eyes fixed on the bookshelf behind Billy as he inserted the toy, suddenly feeling embarrassed despite everything you’d just let him do. Once he was done, he straightened your panties and made sure your dress was perfect.

Shifting your weight between your legs, you tried to get used to the feeling of the toy while Billy stood up and took out his phone.

“Let’s give it a little test,” he said with an almost mischievous grin on his lips that caused you thighs to clench. Something told you he was going to enjoy this. A lot.

A sudden whimper was pulled from you as the toy started to vibrate.

Billy’s grin grew as his finger swiped on his phone, causing the vibrations to intensify. As good as it felt, a mixture of shame and concern threatened to ruin the moment.

“What?” Billy asked, stopping the vibrations the moment he noticed your discomfort. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” you answered shyly, a little embarrassed by just how much you wanted to, “It’s just... what if someone realises?”

He offered a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek.

“They won’t,” he told you with confidence. “It’ll be too noisy for anyone to hear it, and you’ll be good; you won’t come until we’re alone together and I give you permission.”

His thumb tenderly caressed your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue slipping between your lips and wiping away any misgivings you might have had. You wanted to do this. You wanted to give Billy the comfort of knowing that you were thinking about him all night. And you wanted to do it for yourself too. You’d wanted to have new experiences and this was definitely new for you.

“Come on,” he said, slipping his hand into yours, “let’s go have a glass of wine and wait for the guests to arrive. It’s going to be a long night...”

End Note : So, originally, this chapter and the party were going all be one chapter, but then I got carried away with the cute notes between reader and Billy. That means next week will be a whole chapter of party shenanigans.

As always, thanks for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging, hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #billy russo imagine #(ob)ts ff

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hannahssimblr · 3 days

Text

I’m on my bed, fully clothed, and I cannot remember how I got here. I don’t know if I’m sitting up or lying down, or what is wall and what is ceiling. When I try to turn to my side, the room twists like a funhouse around me, the bed tilting like it's intent to slide me right off it. Am I alone? I think so.

That's my phone, the bright square of light. It lays on the sheets beside my face, and I grab it. Her name is right there. It's intuitive, too easy to find.

It rings three, four times, and she picks up. “Jude?” She's sleepy. I woke her.

“I’m sorry Michelle,” I slur, and I mean to be sorry for disturbing her, but she seems to assume that I’m apologising for much more than that.

She sighs, “I know you are, and I’m sorry too.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. Are you drunk?”

“Uh huh.” I should likely be sorry for that too.

“Where are you? Why are you drunk dialling me?” She doesn’t seem annoyed with me, concerned, hopeful, maybe, so I tell her the truth, “I miss you.”

I assume maybe I’ve passed out or somehow hallucinated this entire exchange because she's not responding, but then she sucks in a lungful of air and her voice trembles, “I miss you too, I wish you were here right now.”

“No, I was a bad boyfriend.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was the worst.”

“Not always.”

“...It's hard being on my own.”

“Yeah, for me too. Every single day has been horrible.”

I feel the kind of crushing, exaggerated sadness that I only ever do when I’ve had too much to drink, like I’m tumbling into a pit of despair so deep that the sun will never warm my face again. I can't think of a good reason why I have done this. “Sometimes I don’t want to go to Berlin,” I tell her hoarsely.

“Yeah,” she says, then hesitating like she wants to choose her words carefully, “You know that you don’t have to go, though.”

“I dunno.”

“You could stay in Dublin if you wanted to, It’s not too late. If the thought of leaving makes you too sad.”

That sounds deeply depressing, but being on my own is depressing too, and then I’m so frustrated that I fear I will start crying or something, “I can’t think.”

“You’re just drunk, but I think you’re saying this because it’s what you really mean.”

“Maybe.”

“I love you,” she says, and I hear her sitting up in bed, struck with urgency, “I haven't stopped feeling the same way about you, I still love you, and I want you to stay, if you're even considering it at all then that means-”

“Alright,” A group of guys pass by on the road outside, boisterously chanting some tuneless song and I’m conscious that I, or whoever brought me in here, never closed the curtains. I don't want other men to see me like this, and yet I'm unable to move.

“‘Alright’, as in, you’ll stay?” She says hopefully.

“No, like, that I heard you.”

“I think we’re supposed to be together.”

I wonder if she really believes that. Do I believe that? Maybe. “Mm. Maybe I’ll stay,” Sleep pulls at my eyes, which now rest unfocussed on a shimmery patch of sand outside the window. In the distance the waves roar against the shore, a lullaby. Sleep encroaches the corners of my vision and begins to suck me under.

“Please,” she says, really crying now, “I don’t want to be on my own. I’ve been imagining you finding someone else and falling in love with them and it makes me feel sick.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

A sniffle, “No?”

“No, I don’t ever think about other people, just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Never ever ever. You're my girl.”

She sobs gently.

“Shell, I think I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, you just made a selfish decision. You can still fix it and make it okay.”

My eyes are too heavy and the world is too weird and dizzy looking to keep them open, “Will you forgive me?” I manage with the last of my energy, but I’m too sleepy to listen to her answer. I pass out in three seconds, the phone warm in my palm, the speakers buzzing gently with the sound of her voice.

In the blinding light of the morning, though my head pounds and every colour and pattern is an assault on my senses, before doing another thing, I grab my phone from my pillow to see new messages from Michelle. I don't read any of them.

Hey.

I type.

I was really drunk. Disregard anything I said, I don't even remember what we talked about.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #A MESS #get a grip Jude #embarrassing #tw: alcohol #tw: drinking #tw: drunk

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perfectfangirl · 3 days

Text

notes after rewatching fallout s1 ep7

• the beginning of this episode shows two characters dressed in gear that's very ncr [new california republic] and to me, it's a very fallout: new vegas scene and fallout: new vegas thing • a father and son of lead farmers. depicted as honest, humble folk. oh cooper's here sitting at their table in their house eating their dinner 💀 • the man, adam, calls for his daughter, sandra. cooper continues to eat the delicious, nutritious meal. adam has a horrified expression on his face • sandra, a young girl, walks over and gives cooper something to drink. she... appears unafraid of cooper. she appears to treat him as one would a guest. cooper says "thank you, darling"--- i almost forgot about this but this was the nicest thing he has said post war to anybody in this show

• lmao the wasteland thinks so little of ghouls, this guy thought this man had cooked and eaten his daughter 😭 • "oh, wait... you thought...? come on now." cooper responds as he laughs at the thought, the wasteland and ghoul perception is that bad omg help • adam tells sandra to go outside. tbh i am starting to believe the theory cooper is much more nicer to women and girls than he is males but i digress anyways • cooper seemed to genuinely laugh and say a nice thing for once to someone here, the lucy juice must be working • "lead farming, huh? why, hell, i probably still got some of your lead in me somewhere." i cannot understand what cooper is talking about here. i was trying to figure if they knew each other like that but i wasn't connecting enough and feel like i am missing information again. • cooper and adam may seem to know one another but cooper came to ask adam about moldaver • "i'll tell you anything, as long as you leave us in peace." sigh

• adam looks like he has a scar on his face, wonder where he got it from • cooper inquires about how many kids adam has. adam reveals the oldest ran off to be apart of moldaver's movement and calls moldaver "that madwoman in the hills" • cooper asks adam if his oldest is named roofus. adam mentions he never said his oldest's name and cooper deduces the young male beside adam is tommy • tommy looks afraid and looks like he gulps as adam asks him "what did you do?" • cooper saying "well, you see, daddyo…" has got to be like the fifth time he says "daddy" in this show 😭💀, like what is his obsession with referring to people's fathers this way [time to hurt? probably because he's been searching two hundred years for the person who use to call him that so that word is always on his mind anyway 😞]

• cooper unfolds the letter and is it revealed to have a blood stained hole in it, adam's older son roofus got adam's youngest son tommy mixed in with moldaver's dealings, roofus was the one who sent tommy caps to pay a courier to transport siggi safely to moldaver • "but my problem is, by the time i got this letter off your brother, it was a little bit hard to read." cooper says holding up the bloody letter hole as he uses an eye to peer through it--- cooper you scary mf 😭 • "now, you give me the location, and i'll be on my way." cooper states. tommy tells his father sorry. tommy is so young. adam begins to plead with tommy to tell cooper the location. tommy replies "i didn't want to spend my life digging through dirt. i want to build something and we have the chance…" before tommy can say anymore, adam implores tommy "tell him what he wants to know! he's gonna kill us all! including your sister." [don't think i believe that last part but] • my question is… i wonder why the letter wasn't written in code… • "she's at the observatory" tommy says in the calmest sounding voice. moldaver's location is revealed just like that • how did cooper that tommy would want to come after him? has he seen this movie before? • i suppose revenge is an obvious motivator for tommy getting revenge on cooper killing roofus but it not also being something adam or even sandra would pursue is interesting as well [they're not mixed in with moldaver and she's a young child he has to care for] • adam saying he won't ☹️ • before tommy can grab the rifle, cooper shoots ihm. cooper slowly gets up, reholsters his gun, gathers his things, puts on his hat, and departs without another word • weirdly not convinced tommy is dead, it looks like a shot to the shoulder. he just doesn't seem like it but i digress • adam is left crying with his son's choices, being left only with sandra

• cooper continues his journey in the desert, his expression is a little enigmatic to me but. he inhales a chem under the baking sun • found it so curious cooper had the thought to take his hat off when entering someone's house? this was the first time. it got knocked off at sorrel's outpost and stayed on for all other indoor scenes. parallel this with him pre war going to moldaver's meeting at hollywood forever cemetery with a hot on and taking it off by the time the meeting starts [such a gentleman! 💀] • as cooper treks across the wasteland, moldaver speaking in the meeting in pre war is overlaid. almost as if he was remembering it • "what's it about california that we all came to this place?" i don't know but that place fucking rocks • cooper goes into moldaver's meeting with preconceived notions to begin with, he's already squirming in his seat when she begins her speech • "when you think of the promise of the american dream, you think of california. but it is just that a dream. it's not real. we were told the atom bomb meant the end of war. that didn't work out, did it? we were told america's always getting better. it's always moving toward a better future. but the future is getting closer, ans we can see it. their "better future" is a cliff's edge. and it's coming up fast, isn't it?" moldaver talked for a few minutes and told not a single lie. not a single one. • moldaver's quote in particular "their "better future" is a cliff's edge" is one of the most realest meta statements in the show, it's too good--- • "these soldiers that we're fighting abroad, their families, we have more in common with them than we do with the people here in power, the real enemy" is the final straw for cooper. he decides it's time for him to leave. but not before quipping "that's about all the horseshit i can take." • moldaver pauses her insightful and real ass speech to ask cooper what he said. so he repeats himself. moldaver hits him with a "i didn't realize america's favourite gunslinger was so sensitive". this draws a laugh or two from the attendants. it's poking fun at that manufactured hollywood persona of him being this manly man i guess. what i do take notice is that yes, cooper is sensitive. we know that. he is both sensitive about his principles and sensitive about the principles of others and the critique of such [i.e. the next conversation after this meeting ending up being about him figuring about him spying on his wife because moldaver asks him to interrogate his morality and barb's] • cooper then says "i have my principles, miss williams, that's all." isn't it crazy that cooper use to be someone that even when he disagreed with someone fundamentally, he was still respectful and decent? he had a whole argument with barb and she raised her voice more. compare when cooper got mad at lucy when his vials got crushed in the bait scene. he yelled then pulled his gun on her. lucy literally had to explain how absurd he was being in doing that because her not wanting to be bait and her using his bag to defend herself was not unreasonable. the gap is almost astonishing. that's the same guy. use to be. • [moldaver use to go by the last name williams, i see]

• cooper keeps responding but attempting to leave while he does but again moldaver pokes and prods. "uh huh. and those principles of yours, how much did vault tec pay to take them off your hands?" oh he's getting flamed now • lmao they show the meeting attendants playing tennis watching cooper and moldaver go back and forth • "well, this is america. everyone has a sponsor and, uh, i'm not ashamed to earn a living." "vault tec is the largest company in america. there's a lot of money in selling the end of the world." "well, i'm sure there's a lot of money in selling a political ideology that ends in breadlines." "fascist" is this not my college sociology class, good god--- • subtitles coming in clutch again! because the camera pans so i can't see why says it but i full well assume it was moldaver who called cooper a fascist, didn't even hear it the first watch • no wonder charlie intervened. it got a little heated forreal. didn't even know they made a near direct wwii? reference like that idk • charlie is so embarrassed, he says "this was a mistake. we'll be leaving" 😢

• if not for the "fascist" statement, i would've thought this was another tuesday afternoon for moldaver. but she thanks charlie for bringing cooper. then drops the plot twist that she knows barb like that • i do not! know! why they made cooper smile in this scene, but thank you director • cooper and moldaver take a walk and we discover that barb's division at vault tec acquired moldaver's research company. and before all this, they were developing technology that was hard to monetize. the cold fusion. the infinite energy. the reason for the entirety of season one after the bombs drop. still. • "that's what i was on the verge of achieving when vault tec swept in and bought up every company i'd ever worked for" [spooky af, fellas!] "every one of them? so what are you, a millionaire communist?" cooper sarcastically replies with. • moldaver then says "hypocrisy is like violence in your movies. if you only let the bad guys use it, the bad guys win." cooper then goes on "yeah? i, uh i got a little showbiz secret for you. a good bad guy doesn't see themselves as the bad guy." this show is sick because this could go for cooper, barb, bud, hank, lucy, maximus, the brotherhood of steel, vault tec, china, i could keep going, help

• moldaver says something else i find unsettling "america has been locked in a resource war for over a decade. vault tec bought the means to end that war, the same war you fought in. so they could put it on the shelf. all because it didn't fit into their business model." the revelation is nutty • moldaver basically asks for cooper's help in getting the resource back [by spying on barb] • actually super crazy how easy it was to get cooper to spy on barb but at the same time... he's been questioning and doubting. we all already know she keeps stuff from him. plus the "no dogs allowed in the vaults" was the topping point • the way cooper looked at the listening device and his bewildered? smile slowly fades from his face once he realizes the implications • him responding with "good luck with the revolution" was funny gldldl • moldaver reveals the real reason people are being called communists "i'm not a communist, mr. howard. that's just a dirty word they use to describe people who aren't insane." • this whole scene still got me wanting answers for so much. i still want to know how moldaver made it to the wasteland and how is it that destiny placed cooper to help her get he resource back pre war but now in the post war wasteland, cooper is bounty hunting her. wouldn't be surprised if there's more moldaver flashbacks in future seasons

• lucy is unknowingly fucking up the rotation in vault 4. overseer benjamin [in a move that maybe should've happened to begin with 😭] shows lucy the rape of vault 4's experiment • "we let you into your home. tended to your wounds, gave you food and water." birdie informs lucy. second viewing makes me feel so bad for all that havoc they caused these already traumatized and victimized people like • "but you had to go to level 12" please somebody write them a review, a change how y'all handle this for newcomers 😭 • lucy thinks the residents of vault 4 are taking people and experimenting on them. but she is wrong. she got it all wrong • overseer benjamin and birdie had to kinda retraumatize themselves and be vulnerable for lucy to get it • as the tape plays, lucy asks "what is this?" "your history" birdie says--- oof • lucy getting another disillusionment dose this time as a video of vault tec's fucked up experiments

• lmao the tape is so fucked up but funny--- doctor lloyd and doctor cassandra hawthorne are clinically insane scientists with no moral compass and a villain complex. ironically they starred in the vault tec vault ads with cooper, their vault being the one where they run a sort of scientocratic technocracy in the wake of nuclear warfare. their experiment did not succeed. or... maybe it did but not because of them but because of vault 4's victims and shady sands survivors • doctor lloyd begins the tape with "ok. overseer hawthorne. final log entry. at this point, it would be irrational of me not to acknowledge that these may be my last words" he looks scared but also frantic, like something is coming after them [and it so is] "but despite our results here, i want to reiterate that a society governed by scientists..." he is interrupted by doctor cassandra trying to barricade the door. she calls him "honey" hehehe "really is the ideal social structure.." it is not. 💀

• doctor lloyd, what he's saying, is like farce. how is this, a society governed by scientists an ideal social structure? when they are being revolted by the very people they experimented on • "what happened here should not be used as a case study for what happens when scientists are given unregulated control." lmao we know it is though • some of doctor's lloyd's final statements being vault tec corporate managerial evil "and hybridizing humans with radioactive resistant species still has potential. our test subjects were less compliant than we expected" they could've used an ethics oversight committee but anyways 💀 overseen benjamin's great uncle peter ate doctor lloyd and doctor cassandra tf up • almost wonder if great uncle peter was the same gulper that swallowed siggi's head lol

• overseer benjamin is saddened by rewatching the footage as lucy expresses confusion between the tape and the scene she saw herself on level 12. "i don't understand, in the lab, i saw your doctors..." lucy trails before birdie finishes "trying to ease the pain of the poor souls your people lured into this place." now the operative word in this statement is "your". does birdie know what vault lucy is from and what it means and what they've done there? or as a shady sands survivor wastelander is she talking about people born in the vaults who got there because of vault tec? • birdies goes on "his ancestors were used as lab rats. by the original residents of vault 4. until the lab rats rebelled." • lucy feeling really stupid and bad apologizes immediately. lucy tells them her vault is simply not like this. overseer benjamin asks lucy what their vault experiment was. lucy states there is no experiment. again i say, vault 31, 32, 33 experiment is a success--- overseer benjamin and birdie exchange glances. every vault has an experiment.

• "your ignorance cannot excuse your cruelty. you have infected our home with violence." is such a banger coming from birdie, it's so therapized • birdie tells lucy she'll pay the price for all this, guards come and seize lucy, put a black bag over her head, and take her away. as lucy is hauled off from storage, she pleads with her captors "please, please, i'm a good person" look how slippery this slope has gotten • lucy wants to do the right thing. and yet. has found herself being the offender in this situation. • maximus is in the lap of post apocalyptic luxury as he sees lucy being lead down the hallway in front of his unit. he wordlessly vows to do something about it 🥲 [ok knight in shining armour] • the way maximus is eating the popcorn in this scene lgdgldlf

• meanwhile! a secondary character is in possession of siggi's head 😭 • dogmeat is pulling on the squire equipment thaddeus is dragging because siggi's head is in it 😞 • thaddeus has been hobbling across the wasteland with dogmeat and this squire pack, he stops to sit inside the trunk of a rusted car. the full extent of thaddeus' injuries are shown as he carefully exposes his mangled as shit foot • "oh shit. i'm gonna fucking die" thaddeus says realizing his foot looks so goddamn bad lmao 😭 • dogmeat being a dog starts licking thaddeus' eviscerated ass foot, to his disdain • thaddeus starts? berating? dogmeat? 😭 "you know what? if you were a person, you wouldn't have any friends, you realize that?" not a bully talking like thisss • thaddeus pulling out siggi's head "this stupid fucking thing. oh, you want this too, huh?" everybody wants this. guess what? it's mine." and not for long • "you think everything's for you. it's pretty selfish, actually, you know that? bite what you want to bite, go where you want to go. it's always something." why is thaddeus talking to this dog like this, like how lucy was talking to that mr. handy 😭

• i do not like that thaddeus stuffed dogmeat in the nuka cola dispenser leaving her to die--- this show had somebody eating another person's uncooked flesh but this move upset me because dogmeat ain't got opposable thumbs 😭 • sure thaddeus made sure dogmeat could breathe but he was annoyed with her, he so wasn't coming back 😭 like that's a baby • thaddeus' plan is to contact the brotherhood of steel about the head and gain glory from it • you know what's wild about thaddeus putting dogmeat in the nuka cola dispenser is that dogmeat could have easily attacked thaddeus and killed him before all this. so it's really so much she got stuffed in that thing, she was whimpering and everything, please--- • it's so curious that in this scene, it looks like it's both snowing and raining

• lmao so lucy thinks she's about to get executed for her crimes against vault 4 • also can you blame her? they're all chanting in a room with her restrained in the center across from a mf scimitar 😭 • while the audience is chanting eating popcorn, lucy is pulling at and gnawing at her rope restraints lgdgldfl • birdie begins during this time "we are all survivors here. lucky enough to have found this sanctum of peace. of tolerance. it doesn't matter where you come from or what you believe. you deserve safety. unless... you threaten that peace." looking back, birdie told not a single lie and again • overseen benjamin pucks up the huge scimitar, raising it "for causing harm to a fellow survivor, you are hereby sentenced to death... by banishment." lucy flinches but then realises as overseer benjamin slams the apparently dull scimitar on lucy's restraints. this was all ritualistic and ceremonial gdldlldg • noticed the doctor lucy burned earlier is also shown in the crowd cheering, he has a patch on his face, he seems ok 💀 • lucy expressed surprise at them letting her go, them not exactly realizing where she's been and maybe assuming she's only just been mostly in her vault. "you'll be killed almost immediately on the surface by lord knows what." lmaooo "that's why we're giving you two weeks of supplies to take with you" 😭 • lucy is being banished and given supplies, it's so crazy like • [overseer benjamin thanks the vault dweller for handing him the supplies, so less of a jerk here lol] • they want lucy gone immediately tho 💀 • lucy realising by association for maximus so she says "my friend really likes it here. and he's a good person. he deserves to be somewhere nice and safe, like this. i know i'm not really in the position to be asking for favours but... can he stay?" lucy is really thoughtful and selfless here. but y'all knew that 🥲 • ironic that lucy is banished and attempts to vouch for maximus' character, meanwhile, maximus steals that whole vault's fusion core to rescue lucy--- guess who else getting banished 😭 • why is the room to the fusion core not guarded though fsgkdkg • lucy tries to warn maximus but he goes on a mini rampage in vault 4, causing chaos, throwing people around, wasting food, having residents cowering in fear. all this because he thought lucy was in a pickle 😭 • all maximus has to say for himself is "oops" and "sorry" and "maybe somebody check on him" and the guy is not moving lmao • out on the surface lucy and maximus argue about maximus taking vault 4's fusion core. backup power would only last a few days and lucy demands he return it. maximus' explanation is he needs the fusion core to power the power suit. lucy tells him giving it back is the right thing to do. maximus explains he can't be a knight without the fusion core. lucy pointedly tells him he's not really a knight if he steals anyways. • maximus wants to use the armour to help lucy and in relinquishing the fusion core back to vault 4, it may mean not finding hank. without a single moment's hesitation, lucy says "if my dad found out that i destroyed an entire community to save him, that'd break his heart."--- how cruel the irony and parallel and reverse • it makes her reaction at the observatory that so much more soul crushing knowing hank didn't think twice bombing shady sands. that he wrecked a whole community in regards to her. that she never even considered it meanwhile he's done it at least twice • lucy talks maximus into doing the right thing ™

• back in the hawthorne institute building, maximus drops the fusion core back to vault 4. lucy asks maximus "thinking 'bout those oysters?" "mhm". it feels like lucy wants to make it up to maximus, this whole thing. lucy's vault doesn't have oysters but they have canned tuna and she thinks maximus might still enjoy it. maximus isn't really thinking about what she's saying in the same way she is until • "i was supposed to marry a stranger from another vault. it didn't turn out so good." ☹️ • lucy continues to tell maximus "i don't have the best luck when it comes to strangers... i can honestly say you are the best stranger that i've ever met. you're a good person, titus. and if you wanted to, when all this is over, you could come and live with us in vault 33. with me." this scene is painful because, before the finale, it's all well and good. but maximus' web of lies and then the brotherhood of steel having cold fusion and on top of norm uncovering the crime of the century in vault 31, 32, 33 means this all was a pipe dream. it was so sweet. but vault tec is evil ☹️ • maximus finally breaksdown and tells lucy the full and honest truth. "my name isn't titus. it's maximus. titus is the name of the knight who owned this suit before me. he was threatening me, so instead of helping him i watched him die. and i took his armour and i lied to you." the way before maximus did this, lucy told him to "just say yes" to her asking him to come stay at her vault 😞 • maximus doesn't think he's a good person. then lucy reveals she splashed acid in an innocent man's face. nothing stays clean up here • even after all this, lucy still asks maximus to come live with her in her vault 😢 • lucy been in this mf for two weeks lmao

• ok so i get why thaddeus was at the post apocalyptic radio station, because dj carl had a signal [and some pre war music] • thaddeus is listening in an i only noticed now that dj carl said he does not receive visitors to the station and this explains why it was booby trapped 😭 • the next shot is the snake oil salesman putting a gun to his mouth ready to put himself on a shirt. wild. he sees thaddeus and immediately runs after him to sell one of his disturbing little drugs to him • "don't kill me! i'm a doctor. i can help you." 😭 insane • the snake oil salesman called thaddeus' fucked up foot a "tattered tootsy" gfldgldgd • as the snake oil salesman explains his repertoire, thaddeus pulls out and cocks his gun, the snake oil salesman can see thaddeus do this in the reflection of the mirror on the mantelpiece. oof. "what's stopping me from just killing you and taking your whole thing of drugs?" thaddeus blurts out. somebody come get this mannn. snake oil salesman really has to tell thaddeus that only he knows which elixir will cure or kill him, thaddeus is crazy for pulling the blicky out like this

• thaddeus trading a fusion core for idk eternal life is somethin'. what is the snake oil salesman gone do with that? hmmm • i think the snake oil salesman gave him the real deal because a fusion core is like high payment • the concoction is like regeneration but tastes bad. almost thought thaddeus got poisoned he was coughing so hard, thaddeus' foot heals very well [but still appears broken] • the snake oil salesman tells thaddeus the radios station is near shady sands but thaddeus is like? it's radioactive there the snake oil salesman is like "well, you don't have to worry about that anymore, do you, buddy boy?" ayyy lmao what did he give him? did he give him some super mutant? ghoulification? thing? why did he say this??

• back in vault 33, norm is feeding the imprisoned raiders everyday. then i notice they repreise "what a diff'rence a day makes" by dinah washington, same song used in episode 5 when vault 33 enters vault 32 where it's all been cleaned away, it's the coverup song • veronica is blamed for the raider prisoners being poisoned but i didn't understand why she was implicated, she didn't make or serve the food [sounds like a coverup] • but. rat poison is often slow acting. so this is why i think the raider prisoners were poisoned over time • "what did i tell you, norman?" words have meaning" overseer betty tells him. i don't particularly think she had anything to do with this. steph on the other hand... • but isn't it wild overseer betty starts the "resettlement initiative" before hardly leaving the mass casualty event • [this is forced resettlement btw] • this show is real for realistically showing recovering from that baby by having steph icing her private area lol

• norm goes to visit chet and registers that chet has been moved to vault 32 [norm is losing a cousin and friend 😭] • i say step was strategic with getting with chet because of the conversation norm and chet go on to have • norm asks chet "so you're gonna forget about everything we've seen?" then chet "i feel like this is a good moment for a fresh start." "you think so?" "someone obviously does." and i wonder who that is • norm is obviously, naturally, and rightfully upset at this. "you're a coward. you know know that, chet?" chet returns norm a smile laced with fear and astutely surmises "we all are, norm. that's why we live in a vault." chet closes the unit door ending the conversation with norm. • chet giving a succint response to the state of affairs for vault dwellers that even norm himself can't escape still has me

• cooper is a bloodhound. he comes upon the dilapidated red rocket gas station thaddeus was at, sees some blood on the ground and tastes it. what for, your guess is as good as mine 😭 • cooper hears whimpering from the nuka cola dispenser 😭 he lets dogmeat out and says something unhinged "alright, let's go find your daddy" i can't tell if he's already dropping the accent here but 🥲 • in the past, not only are we greeted with another radiation king but also a scene directly related to cooper and hid dog, roosevelt • cooper is taking hits off his old fashioned smoking pipe, reading a magazine, roosevelt laying in his lap. king starts eying barb's unattended pip boy on the counter • cooper bugs that bad boy while barb is none the wiser

• colour analysis time again! because they're wearing the same [and maybe the exact] colours and outfits from episode 5, barb is in all blue [no reds or pinks] and cooper is in his signature blue and yellow. janey appears to be in blue and yellow in this scene too! with mostly yellow like cooper. interesting. • cooper has full blown started spying on his wife but gets cold feet after gazing at roosevelt. "you're right, roosevelt. what are you thinking." cooper says, a mix between talking to his dog and himself 😢 he throws the listening device in the trash. cooper loves and trusts barb so much. too much. • the scene transitions to a dichotomy, barb restfully sleeping in bed, again none the wiser, not a care, it seems. then there is cooper--- nursing a cigarette, watching the vault tec vault 4 ad he filmed for the ill fated doctor lloyd and doctor cassandra. cooper cannot sleep. this is a metaphor for their individual consciences.

• cooper is outside now in the witching hour with roosevelt sifting through trash looking for the listening device. "no dogs in the vault, huh?" cooper says after finally finding it. cooper loved roosevelt so much, he was willing to upend his marriage and discover a corporate conspiracy over him, i could cry 😭 • cooper lovingly kisses roosevelt on the head and no sooner does the scene cut to post war cooper refusing attention from dogmeat telling her "i'm sorry, dogmeat, but you ain't him." cooper has but dropped his accent when speaking this to dogmeant, his sad and hurt mask slipping • i guess dj carl was only booby trapping for angry critics because he let thaddeus use the radio to hit up the brotherhood of steel lol • thaddeus asking about the critics of dj carl's music "oh, people get fully mad." 😂 now that thaddeus is healed, he's much nicer, even acting a bit cute lol • refinement and taste for the arts still being in the wasteland tho gdldflgdl • "great job on these bobby traps, by the way" 😭 and it's still got bodies in them, help 😭 • thaddeus points and says "that one's crazy", tears in my eyes. really is some shit out of the fallout games • dj carl goes "critics." shaking his head with thaddeus ironically saying "yeah. people just, uh, can't be nice" 😭 same guy almost shot the snake oil salesman before he cured him

• dj carl sees lucy and maximus walking up and asks thaddeus if they're his ride. thaddeus takes out his gun and dj carl is like "guess not. ok." and closes the window to his radio station quick lmao • the signs around the radio station say "no visitors", "no requests", "keep out", and "no tresspassing violators will be executed" 💀 • lmao idk if he was panicking or what but thaddeus starts shooting and unloads his entire clip--- lucy and maximus are so fucking confused, checking to see if they've been hit, "god, i suck without a scope" thaddeus shot like fifteen times 😭 • lucy and maximus raise their hands after all that, lucy informs thaddeus she was the one who cut siggi's head off • thaddeus forgets where he is because he walks backwards into a booby trap and a whole. arrow. goes through his neck 😫 lucy is mortified and so am i ❤️ • when thaddeus tries to talk, it sounds gurgley, he doesn't get why he's not dead but takes the arrow out, lucy and maximus look like they want to vomit gldgldfld • idk how they can see from that distance but everyone notices thaddeus' wound heals up. maximus thinks thaddeus is a ghoul now [maybe a super mutant instead?] • "aw, i'm so stupid" i should've never trusted a doctor that smelled like that." please?? • dj carl opens the hatch to see the brotherhood of stell approaching then promptly closes it • lucy asks "the brotherhood is the good guys?" tell me why thaddeus and maximus was like "uh, it's a complicated organization" not them knowing this faction is 💀 • i realized thaddeus did a 180° on wanting to give the brotherhood of steel siggi's head because maximus convinced him he was some type of altered person [whether ghoul or super mutant] the brotherhood of steel discriminates against both • maximus lets thaddeus flee, by taking the head--- thaddeus is so? because why did he tell lucy and maximus "uh, i'm sorry about... a lot of things and i didn't mean for... ok, nice meeting you. bye!" i cannot even explain how funny it is to see maximus pull a pacifist speech check by getting everyone out of that alive fldgdlfld • maximus buys lucy time to take siggi's head to moldaver while he uh lies to the brotherhood of steel to give her time to get hank, he gets a head from the radio station fdlgdlf • "find your dad. go home. that's what i want for you" ☹️ • "they're never gonna stop looking for the artifact" the brotherhood of steel always find out • lucy and maximus kiss like they'll never see each other again. the two heads in their respective arms also lock lips 💀 lucy and maximus kiss twice [this one's for you vaultknight] • dj carl opens his porthole and smiles. i am howling. • maximus is given something he's probably not had since childhood but anyways 🥲 • kind of a diss for overseer betty to say the people selected for vault 32 from vault 33 have "been chosen for agreeability, stick-to-itiveness, and all of the other qualities that make for a successful pioneer" what about the ones not chosen from vault 33? sheesh • woody gets cold feet, he doesn't want to go live in vault 32. but it is not up to woody--- he is stopped by vault guards. there is no choice [this is a dictatorship i guess] • they treat woody's desire to not be forcefully moved as an outburst by him. they wait for his dissent to turn back into compliance. it is crazy.

• who would have guessed steph would become overseer of vault 32 • norm has had enough and leaves the ceremony, the last glimpse of chet's face not unlike woody's had been • not sure how norm gets to slip by but he decides to play detective again at a terminal • under the guise of being overseer betty, norm pretends there's a problem as an excuse to talk to overseer 31 • this is fallout's version of the internet lol • noticing norm is talking to a brain in a jar, bud askins, is crazyyy--- idk how often overseer betty and him talk but bud fell for the bait quickly • norm posing as overseer betty goes to vault 31, watching it open as he once again is able to open a door with a lock he didn't even have to pick

• one thing about this episode i want to talk more about is the fact that yes, the wasteland is cruel and unforgiving and even still it can also be warm and loving and has evidenced by the survivors of vault 3, they were weird but nice. just like maximus said about lucy. they went out of their way to help lucy and maximus and those two could've spent the rest of their life there, probably. thank goodness the test subject victims revolted. they turned a hellhole into a home. • any other place, lucy would've been harmed for hurting an innocent person and the fact is that they banished her to the surface, let her live, gave her supplies 😭 vault 4 was the nicest, most compassionate people in the show. i really loved seeing a flower in the desert like that • vault 4 prospers not because but in spite of doctor lloyd's and doctor cassandra's experiments • i hope to see more of vault 4 • another thing i wanted to touch on was something i noticed for a few episodes now and addressed last episode. and it's that poc in this show are the canary in the coal mine, the alarm system, for the going's on with vault tec and the larger societal conspiracy of greed and power grabbing through war. charlie, moldaver, birdie. to name a few. i could make more cases. but anyways, poc being on the ground trying to tell the world about self cannibalizing systems we live under falling on deaf and delusional ears are not lost on me

#fallout #fallout show #the radio #cooper #the ghoul #lucy #maximus #thaddeus #ghoulcy #vaultknight #text post #my meanderings

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tigergirltail · 2 days

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TIGER HRT CHAPTER 4 - MONTH 3 - GROWING PAINS

First - Prev - Next

Everything hurts.

I started noticing it about two weeks after my first dose. It felt like a dull headache at first, but over the next month it spread to pretty much my entire body.

I had to start working from home, and eventually it got bad enough that I could only put in a few hours of work each day. My boss is a reasonable enough guy, but he wasn't going to pay a full time salary for part time hours, so I had to take a salary cut.

Luckily, my partner is around to take care of daily errands, not to mention being there to reassure and comfort me when the pain gets bad. They've been thinking about seeing if Lindwurm HRT is a thing, but they don't want to get the process started until I'm in the clear and can take care of myself again.

Gods I love them.

The reason the pain is happening, as best I can tell, is that my skeletal structure is already changing. I've gotten at least an inch taller, and my face has been reshaping into a feline muzzle. My teeth are getting sharper, and I'm developing proper fangs. I also noticed a little while ago that my fingernails and toenails had receded into their respective digits, which sucks for two reasons - I can't paint fingernails I don't have, and they are sore as HELL when I put any amount of pressure on them. I have to be REALLY careful with how I type to not inflict agony on myself. I'm also feeling my tail growing in, and even if it hurts, it's euphoric as HELL. A tail was always the part I wanted most out of this.

It's weird, the skeletal changes weren't supposed to happen this early. I've been trying to reach Dr. Erian about it, but he's constantly busy, probably because of the sudden surge of people looking for Humanity Removal Therapy.

Other than that, I've been getting areas of white and black fur coming in - mostly on my arms and legs, but a little bit on my face and ears - ears that are gradually reshaping and migrating. Nothing to report on hearing sensitivity, but I think my night vision is getting better.

I did a little bit of looking around for anyone with similar pain experiences. I got my hopes up when I found a girl, Antonina, who had a painful experience with Cat HRT, but it turns out it's because she took the rumoured Fifteen Minute version. She described the pain as "like bathing in an active volcano".

It leaves me wondering whether I would have preferred a 15-minute lava bath over a months-long full-body headache.

I ended up reaching out to her anyway, just because I wanted to know what I was in for in the endgame and feline HRT is rarer than I thought it would be. Sounds like the prey drive is the real deal - she keeps feeling the urge to bite this one girl who's on mouse HRT.

We've been spending some time comparing notes and getting to know each other. It's nice to know someone else who's going through this thing, even if our experiences aren't exactly one-to-one.

I also talked to my mother for the first time in nearly a year. I went No Contact with her a while back because she was only getting more obnoxious and combative about me being trans, but I figured changing my species is a big enough deal that I should keep her in the loop.

Besides, my savings had nearly dried up and I needed to ask her for money.

It… did not go well. She hadn't heard of therian HRT before, and once I explained it, she started panicking about how I'm "mutilating my body" with "untested treatments". I think I also heard her cry something about how her "son" is "killing himself", which is just multiple layers of insensitive.

At least she sent me some money. Hopefully it'll be enough to last until my transformation stops being agonizing and I can go back to work, and then I can go right back to pretending my family doesn't exist.

At roughly the three-month mark, I have a check-in video call with Dr. Erian. From the moment his face appears on screen, though, I can tell something is wrong. He seems… older, somehow.

"Hello, Miss Alexis.", he offers. He sounds tired. Sorrowful, even.

"Hey, doc." I have to ask about it. "Everything okay? You seem a bit tired."

"Nothing to worry about Miss Alexis, just the ordinary stresses of daily life."

Liar. I know I'm not entitled to details of your personal life, much less your professional secrets, but I know when something is eating at someone.

"…Does the word 'crossroads' mean anything to you, Miss Alexis?"

Huh? That came a bit out of left field. "I've… heard some other therian HRT patients use the term, but I don't know much of the details. Something about a point of no return?"

"Something of the sort." He lowers his head and seems to go from sorrowful to downright grim. "There will come a time, Miss Alexis, when you will have to make a very important decision in your care, and I ask that you do so with great consideration for the consequences."

I recoil a little in my seat. "Yeah… Of course I will. Any decision I make, even reaching out to you in the first place, I don't take it lightly."

"Good… That's good." His demeanor shifts back to his stoic, clinical self. I don't know what just happened, but he went somewhere for a moment there.

"Now then, I did receive your messages, I apologize for not getting back to you. You mentioned you were experiencing persistent and debilitating whole-body soreness?"

"Yeah. I can't even leave the apartment most days, it hurts so much."

"Odd… You are taking the treatment as directed, yes?"

"Of course. One tablespoon a week, just like it says on the bottle."

I see his eyes twitch behind his glasses. Did I say something wrong?

"…Teaspoon."

I cock my head to the side. "Say again?"

"You mean one TEASPOON a week, yes?"

I feel my heart sink. The dark smear on the dosage information… I could have sworn it said '1 tbsp/week'.

"…Could you hold on a second please?" I mute the mic and call out to my partner to bring the bottle of tiger HRT over. When they do, I unmute and hold it up to the webcam. I hear Dr. Erian take a sharp intake of breath as he notices the obscured instructions.

I set the bottle aside and the two of us share an awkward silence.

"So…", I begin. "…How bad is it?"

"The good news", he offers slowly, "is that you have only been taking three times the prescribed dose. An increased dose imbalances the growth rate of the different parts of your body, hence your pain and persistent weakness, but it could have been much worse."

I think back to the so-called Fifteen Minute version, and Antonina's description of it - like bathing in an active volcano.

Dr. Erian continues. "Assuming you return to a CORRECT dose, your growth rates will gradually level out over the course of the next month or so. It is my medical opinion that you should maintain a low-activity lifestyle until then, but you will eventually be able to return to your typical activity level, and you will also find that the physical effects become more… consistent."

"That's… reassuring. Thank you, doctor." I pause. Something I noticed a little while ago has been weighing on my mind. "There's one thing, though - do the treatments have… I guess you'd call them restorative or regenerative effects? I've noticed some old wounds aren't there anymore."

The doctor clicks his pen and brings up his notepad. "Interesting. Do go on, Miss Alexis."

"Well… I used to get lower back pain from a car crash injury I got a little over a year ago, but I haven't noticed it at all lately. Pretty much the only part that DOESN'T hurt… There also used to be some marks on my arm from a cat biting me when I was little." I give a slight smile. "The cat's name was Tiger, go figure."

Dr. Erian is writing the whole time I'm talking. "Yes, that is to be expected. Minor persistent injuries will fade over time as your body re-forms itself to a new baseline, even severe chronic symptoms may fade. If there are no other concerns…"

"Just one… Most of the other therian HRT patients I've talked to have gotten their meds as pills, so what's with the potion bottle?"

Dr. Erian pauses, and adjusts his glasses nervously, as if he's been caught out on something he doesn't want to admit to. "Well… advances in the field are occurring rapidly, and you are one of the more recent patients, so a more… streamlined option was available to you. I took the liberty of choosing the most compatible option based on your medical records, and that bottle is it."

"Okay… But what's IN it?"

"The active ingredients are antihominidone, which is your humanity-blocker, and a specialized formula of felistrogen, infused with white tiger genetic material. The rest of the fluid is a suspension used to dilute the effects, without which you would be looking at a short, but excruciating and potentially lethal process."

The Fifteen Minute version, I think to myself. I'm taking diluted Fifteen Minute meds. There's no WAY this isn't experimental, and I'M the experiment. I despise saying it, but maybe my mother was right to worry.

"But I'm afraid I really do have to go, Miss Alexis, my next appointment is waiting."

"G-gotcha. See ya, doctor."

---

Special thanks to @paintedbytosia for letting me write her in, and shoutout to @megamoonerjenny for coming up with 'antihominidone'

#trans #transgender #transwoman #tiger hrt #therian hrt #furry hrt #animal hrt #trans artist #queer artist #my art

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bbyobbyo · 1 day

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To Mingyu, you were perfect. It was no wonder he was drawn to you when his long time best friend and roommate introduced you to him as his partner. Alas, you were perfect but you weren't his.

content: angst, fluff if you squint, suggestive (no actual depictions of sex), unrequited love, pining, gyu is a simp

wc: 729

notes: second attempt hehe, thank you everyone who read my vernon fic! feedback is appreciated, i'm still new here 😔👉👈

Truthfully, there was no better person for you than Wonwoo. Mingyu could at least admit that much. You complimented each other like yin and yang, supporting and uplifting one another in harmony. You were the much needed ray of sunshine and motivation in his life, and he was the structure and inspiration you wanted in yours. Over time your presence became a welcome constant in his life, first by association, then seemingly by necessity.

"She is the best thing to ever happen to me" his roommate would exclaim constantly, and Mingyu couldn't help but agree.

He tried to be happy for his friend, he really did. After all, why wouldn't he want the people he loves to be happy? It wasn't like he didn't want you visiting the apartment constantly, always with a delicious treat to share in hand. Nor did he dislike your genuine attempts to get to know him as a person, asking about his preferences and aspirations in life. In fact, it bothered him more and more that he wished you came over more often, even when his roommate wasn't home.

It was tortuous to hear the sounds in the apartment when you and Wonwoo thought he was asleep. Heavy moans and muted whines haunt his brain on those long nights filled with tossing and turning. The next morning he tries his best to pretend like he didn't see the hickeys littered on your neck just barely covered by your hair when he ran into you making breakfast. And yet, when you ask if he had a good night's sleep with an offer of making an extra serving for him, he doesn't have the heart to tell you the truth. That he spent the entire night wishing it was him in the bed next to you instead.

The day the world came crashing down on him was the day Wonwoo had told him about his plan to propose to you. An evening surrounded by his 12 closest friends that you have also come to adore, how perfect. It was so perfect that he didn't even have to think twice when saying yes when Wonwoo asked him to help film the entire affair.

"I trust you over Seokmin any day, that man can't keep a secret for his life. But if you tell her it's for a personal project, she won't suspect a thing!" he chuckles.

"Yeah," Mingyu mumbles back, not quite meeting his friend's eyes, "she won't see it coming."

Mingyu thinks he's going insane. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of photos from tonight and yet he's enamored by this one. You're absolutely dazzling, looking at the camera like you just discovered the lens, eyes turned into crescents and smiling cheek to cheek. How long has he waited for you to smile at him like that? And the first time you do, he's behind a camera. At your fucking wedding reception of all places.

"You like her." His head snaps up from the viewfinder.

"What?"

His older friend snakes a gentle hand on over his shoulder. "You like her, don't you?" Seungcheol repeats, voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu says nothing, slowly directing his gaze back downwards at the camera, screen stuck on the photo of you he took only a few moments ago. He can't do anything but sigh. Seungcheol's expression softens, giving his younger friend's shoulder a knowing squeeze.

"It gets better."

God, he sure hopes it does.

Mingyu's attention fades in and out when you're reading your vows. It's ironic that on one of the happiest days of your life, he finds it impossible to focus on you when it feels like that's all he's done for years. It was a welcome distraction, however. He can't decide what would destroy him more: listening to you profess your love to someone that wasn't him, or knowing that you meant every word. You end your monologue gracefully with a small smile, holding back a sob as the groom begins his.

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me," Wonwoo begins, voice breaking as he bites back his own tears.

In another time, another place, Mingyu would've agreed with him. But in this moment, as you look at his best friend like he's the center of your whole world, Mingyu decides that you might have been the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fanfic

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exo-raskreia · 2 days

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Gojo & the Angel Number 3612

WARNING: DELULU IDEAS

This edited image from the 11hr Shounen Jump lofi video may have more meaning than I originally thought, at least according to some translations from the Google Translate mobile app.

In this delulu post, I had briefly theorized the image could hint that both women will help in Gojo's revival, as it's like he's headed north towards them. Shoko is farther back, which after 261, could indicate her role is done (her & Yuuta healed his body). Since Utahime is at the center, it could mean she will be the key to guide Gojo's soul back.

I've wondered if there could be any more potential interpretations of this image & what I discovered actually feeds further into my delulu...

According to the mobile app, the words "trust & truth" are directly behind Gojo.

This could imply how much Gojo trusts Utahime (and vice-versa). I wonder what "truth" could mean here. The word "reality" is another translation that pops up; if this is more accurate, then could we see it as Utahime will guide Gojo back to reality, if he's not actually dead but in a state of limbo? The full word is mostly blocked by Gojo here, so I wanted to verify if these are what it really it says.

In this image with Ijichi, who's in the same location, we can see the full text. After "trust," it says either "track record" on the app, or "achievements" on the website, depending which you use.

We know Ijichi is the man Gojo trusts the most. I wonder what the other words mean. In regards to Ijichi, is it that he always achieves what Gojo makes him do? lol

In regards to Utahime, it almost seems like the kanji for "truth" was isolated so it would stand out. Wonder if it was intentional...

Next to Gojo's blindfold is seemingly the number 3612.

(This is once I selected the highlighted text to translate separately on the GojoHime image. For some reason, the number doesn't even get detected on the Ijichi image? I tried at least one other translator & got the same number).

According to Angel Number numerology, 3612 means "a sign of improvement." In this article, it elaborates on how one should fill their lives with love to have a positive impact on others' lives, & in turn, inspiring them to do the same. Sounds a lot like what Gojo strived for, right?

(I will summarize most of it with a few images).

• It tells one to seek clarity to overcome challenges & live a peaceful life.

• It tells one is about to go on a spiritual journey to reach enlightenment.

Like, seriously?! Hello?!

• If you're single, you will find love as you already know exactly what kind of person you're looking for. If you're already in a relationship, it's a sign that you're ready to commit, as you already know that person well enough to know you want to spend the rest of your life with them.

If Gojo hasn't already realized it, Utahime is the one for him 😌. He's pointing at her here, after all (341, guys? The Yagasuri pattern? 😏)... If we go with the headcanon that they could've been in a secret relationship this whole time, then Gojo might've proposed to her during the time-skip, got married already, or will do so after his return... 🤪

• It's a sign to go achieve your dreams, to believe in yourself & capabilities.

Gojo never gave up on his dreams. He did everything he could to raise stronger allies, to help his students in the battle against Sukuna. So no, Gojo did not intend to die as he said so himself in 261 to Yuuta. Gojo should return to see his dreams through.

• It's a sign to never let anyone stop you from growing & improving. Surround yourself with like-minded people.

Gojo shouldn't let this loss stop him from achieving his dreams & goals. He should see this through to the end. He will choose the path to do it.

• The breakdown of the numbers basically describes Gojo & what he should do?? 🫢

In particular, the meaning of the number 1 gives hope that things will be different & better for Gojo.

The number 2 is encouraging Gojo to let others help him, to not work alone; we've seen him ask for favors from his fellow colleagues, such as Utahime before. However, he didn't want his students to help carry his burden of becoming a "monster", which is understandable; and yet, they wanted to be there for him.

The number 612 could indicate Gojo will get support & encouragement (you know, like slaps on the back?) from his dead comrades at the airport before he departs towards his awaiting comrades in the living world?

The number 12 gives the hope that once revived, Gojo would have a new perspective, a new outlook that will allow him to finally break that barrier between himself & others, to better connect with them. He will no longer feel so isolated nor misunderstood.

• In general, 3612 comes down to not giving up & you will find success. Gojo will have to make that choice to return, to do what he had set out to do in the first place. He can't give up now, can't settle for the airport when his living comrades are still in danger. He wanted to see his dreams come true & as of right now, they have not been achieved (unless Gege intends to write a tragic story with no payoff 😑).

• I've looked up the only other legible text in the image, NVFG, but the only thing I found is that it's some kind of surgical procedure to reconstruct bones in certain parts of the body? Like legs & neck? Something like that (the medical terminology is so confusing, lol, so take this with a grain of salt). Which, ironically, kinda fits with what happened to Gojo? His neck was intact though; his head remained attached to his body, indicating that his RCT was not compromised...

• The word "trust" & this number being placed in between GojoHime here is interesting. Are they trying to hint at us that Utahime still has a role to play? That she may do something to help Gojo reach enlightenment? Like in this theory? Whether it was deliberate or not, it's still fun to headcanon.

I'm not sure how accurate what I got is anyway; the number could just be a mistranslation. If it's completely wrong, then man, what an eerie coincidence...

If any of you have better luck translating the remaining text in the image (like the text right above Utahime), or even make more sense of the translations here, let me know! Not to mention, is the background in this image present anywhere in the manga? If so, any ideas on what the building is? If anyone finds anything on it, let me know!

Don't know if Gege actually believes in this stuff nor if it was even intentional, but he has shown to be quite the number nerd... Once again, this is just an observation based on my research & it really feeds into my delulu.

#gojohime #gojo satoru #iori utahime #jjk theory #more delulu #reiapost

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kimmiessimmies · 2 days

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Personal post

This will probably be the most non-Sims related post I've put on this blog ever. I'll put most of it under a cut, so you can choose whether or not to read it. The thing is, I could use some advice. And asking strangers from all over the world advice on something important might be weird, but you are also my community, so I value your opinions. Don't worry, this isn't a "Kim being depressed" kinda post. 😉 It's a work thing.

Upfront: This post is about me being unhappy in my current well-paid job and my search for something that makes me happy. It might come across sounding a bit entitled, since I know there are many people who would be happy to have any job, just so they can pay their bills. I'm sorry if this post triggers that, and I know I'm privileged to even be in this situation. ❤️

TL/DR: Do I stay in a well-paid, secure job that doesn't bring happiness and actually negatively affects my mental health because of it? Or: Do I take the plunge into the unknown and give up the securities I have now for something that could potentially (but not guaranteed) not only make me happy but bring me opportunities as well?

Okay, here's the deal. Currently, I work in education. I've been teaching for 19 years, and for the last 3 years, I've held the position that best translates to special needs coordinator at the school where I've been all of my working life. In short, my job entails making sure the teachers have the tools they need to help all kids in their classes with special educational needs, to make sure each child ends up in the right form of education fitting their needs and dealing a lot with difficult or even alarming home situations. My job can be rewarding at times, and challenging at others. Aside from this, I've been part of the management team at my school for almost 8 years. I work at a big school. It wasn't big when I started there, but it's big now. I have a degree in Early Childhood Education, and that's also the age group I've always dealt with. It's the age group I've always taught, and it's the age group currently under my supervision in the position I'm now.

This past year, I've struggled with my mental health, as I've mentioned before, and have not been at work fully for a while. My therapist and I established that while work is "okay", it's also not bringing me joy anymore while my job was once the happiest and most passionate thing I did. Right now, it's blah. This position is not one that really suits me, yet I don't want to go back to teaching either. I've been there, done that. Add to that the fact that, come September, my boss requires me to change my position slightly. I'd be doing the same thing I do now, but for an older age group. This has given me a lot of stomach aches, because the thing that still drives me to do my job now is the fact that I'm doing it geared towards the youngest kids in school.

All in all, the job is not bringing me happiness in the slightest anymore. Having said that, I know a lot of people do jobs that don't make them happy, but it pays the bills, so let's suck it up and just do it. Which is fine, I can do that too, except my mental health suffers...

However, there are a few good things about this job too:

The pay is really good

I have lovely colleagues

I have a lot of credits here because I've been here for so long. They know my worth

I have a very understanding boss who's been nothing short of wonderful during my depression

(If you're still with me, thank you for reading this essay all the way, it's appreciated 💗)

My therapist asked me, "If money weren't a factor, what would you be doing?" My answer was "write." More specifically, I just want to stay home all day and work on ATOH, but no one is going to pay me for that. 😄 So, write, or do a job in which writing plays a role. So, she advised me to start looking for jobs that fit that description. It was a rather depressing search. Most jobs that came close to what I'd like to do require degrees or diplomas I don't have.

And then I suddenly stumbled upon something: Assistent Project Manager at a small, but well established company that creates educational projects (usually based on children's books), books and materials geared towards early childhood education in particular, and currently expanding to do the same for education to older kids as well.

I felt like I had found the holy grail. This is writing, this is editing, this is being creative, this is working with authors, but it's also closely related to early childhood education, the thing I know so well. Despite still being semi depressed, I felt like I needed to at least give this a shot. So, I wrote a letter, enclosed my resume, and waited. I didn't have to wait long, because a few days later I got an invite for an interview.

I went for the interview and was welcomed at a small and very homely office space (with an office cat!). We had a good talk and I left happy. They invited me to do a "trial day" with them, which is what I'll be doing today. They've had a lot of applicants for this position, but from the contact we've had since, it seems like I stand a good chance.

Sounds like a no-brainer? Perhaps, unless you have my brain... Because there are doubts:

Pay. This job pays quite a bit less than my current one. I'm a single parent and therefore sole breadwinner in my household. Currently, I make quite good money because I've been in this job for a long time and hold a relatively high position in the organisation. We can pay the bills, go on holidays, and even splurge occasionally (for example, the very pricey laptop I bought a few months ago). With this job, I would still make enough to pay the bills and go on holidays, but I will need to keep an eye on the money, and there won't be splurging for a while. I do know this sounds like a luxury problem to some.

Job security. In my current job, I'm under a fixed contract. Basically, unless I royally fuck up, I can't be fired. With this job I'd start on a year contract. After that year, they can either decide to give me another year or let me go. This won't just be if I mess up, but also if they decide I'm not the best person for the job after all, or if I don't fit in with their small, close-knit team. Worst case scenario; they let me go, and I'll have to go back to education and probably teach again.

These doubts are few, but strong. So, basically, like I already said above: do I stay in a well-paid, secure job that doesn't bring happiness and actually negatively affects my mental health because of it? Or: do I take the plunge into the unknown and give up the securities I have now for something that could potentially (but not guaranteed) not only make me happy but bring me opportunities as well (since it's publishing)?

I don't need anyone to actually answer those questions, but those are the wonderings on my mind I wanted to write down. Thanks for reading. ❤️

#personal #non sims

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knightfcll · 1 day

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beckoning scorch

gojo x reader (primarily), 0.9k

content notes: gender neutral reader, suggestive but not explicit touching, reader is a sorcerer and described as reckless multiple times, gojo is highkey just feelin y'all up, no concept of personal space here, implied nanami x reader in the sense of unspoken and unrequired (or is it oooooh oooh intrigue) feelings, though their relationship is outwardly antagonistic

The curse dies in a storm of fire and smoke. You stagger in the aftermath. Nanami is at your side instantly, with a steady and furrowed brow. The ringing in your ears is a miserable, piercing shriek, but it covers the sound of Nanami's chastising.

The ride back is quiet, other than the occasional bit of radio static. Nanami keeps it tuned to the same station, no matter where he's driving, during business hours. You're in too much pain to bother making fun of him this time.

Nanami walks you inside when you arrive. His hand doesn't leave your elbow until you're sitting down in the infirmary, when he shuffles off to go look for Shoko. The pain forces you to start rifling around for a cold compress.

It takes you what feels like forever to find the compress, reminding you again that medics aren’t always the most organized people. A few rhythmic taps at the door pull you from your thoughts. You’re about to call out that Shoko isn’t in yet when it opens and you find Gojo grinning before you. Your heart skips.

Dumbfounded, you can only shake his hand as he enters. It’s a loose thing, a not too firm noncommittal grip that doesn’t leave you wincing but does make you wonder if you’d even touched him at all.

“Nice work out there.”

Praise from Satoru Gojo is a thing some sorcerers would kill for, the way he’s worshipped. You're not as weak in the knees about it, present circumstances notwithstanding.

You press the compress tighter to your knee and mumble a weak thanks.

“Let me hold that.” Suddenly, Gojo slips his hand under yours, keeping pressure with seemingly far less effort than you had needed. He’s giving you an easy smile when you look at him, one of those bastard grins Nanami makes fun of loud enough for the students to hear.

You can’t see his eyes. He’s still wearing his protective shades and his once wild hair now hangs loosely over his forehead. Allegedly, they’re a rather brilliant blue.

“Say,” Gojo starts, experimentally stretching a finger past the barrier of the compress, just barely hovering over the raised hairs on your leg, “Nanami's gone off to manage some particulars, yeah? He gonna mind if I steal you for a bit?"

He smells nice; not strong, it’s no cologne you recognize, but something clean. Undoubtedly…pure.

“Kento doesn’t care what I do.”

Gojo clicks his teeth. “I don’t think that’s true.” He presses harder now, enough that you can start to feel a freeze deep in your skin.

Gojo slips his hand away and begins tending to the rest of you. He’s very physical, when he’s allowed to be. He glides over faded scars and fresh scrapes. Some of them still hurt, even when his smooth fingertips just barely graze you.

“He doesn't. And if he did, it's because I make it harder for him to clock out on time.”

“Of course, of course."

You don't understand what Gojo thinks he's getting at. Nanami does not like you. He wears his heart on his sleeve and never pulls his punches, especially where you're concerned. Telling you about his day before ripping into you for your carelessness is just how he is.

Gojo brushes a sore spot at your back and you gasp, lurching forward into his waiting embrace. He soothes you, rubbing gently this time, like a big dog who’s forgotten his own strength. Or, is it you that’s become forgetful?

“Sorry, sorry. Bad bruise?”

“It’s fine. I should have let it heal more before going out today.”

You feel the hum in Gojo’s chest before you hear it, cheek flush against his chest. You shouldn’t be able to hear his heartbeat like this, pressed up against him like an eavesdropping child.

“You’re reckless, aren’t you?”

You’ve been told that. Shoko swears you’re trying to make her life harder. Nanami…he’s as blunt with you as anyone else, but your carelessness seems to be the one thing that makes him truly angry.

“I’m a sorcerer,” you say, settling in to Gojo’s touch. He’s thumbing over a bruise at your waist. “Not really easy to be safe.”

Gojo laughs, leaning closer. He takes a deep breath just as his nose brushes your skin. “I guess not.” Gojo does not know danger as you have. Guessing is the only thing he can do.

The room falls silent. He makes a show of bandaging a scrape by your elbow, eyeing it like he’s a doctor performing a difficult surgery and not just making cartoonishly slow movements as he covers it. You don’t appreciate how much space he takes until he steps back to admire his handiwork. He peels off of you like a second skin.

“Right, that should do it. Now,” Gojo straightens his back and pushes up imaginary glasses, “I prescribe you lots of rest and ice pops. Don’t come back.”

“Doctors don’t just say it like that.”

Gojo laughs, a full body thing that has him doubling over and dropping his skit. He thinks he’s funny. Nanami’s right about that.

“Ah, maybe they should.”

He slinks out the same way he came in, shifting again from the solid rock of a man you expect to the space invading serpent he is. You hear him chatting further down the hall; Nanami’s in his clutches, now, from the sound of Gojo’s sighs.

His scent still lingers in the air. Tentatively, you pull the collar of your shirt and inhale. Dirt and grass, mostly, with the faintest hint of clean laundry. Fresh linens, rarely stained or shredded, even in the field.

For once, you’d like to see him bruise.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #writing tag

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