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btsvt-bar · 2 months

Text

FEVER

pairing ꩜ journalist!mingyu x afab!reader x journalist!wonwoo

synopsis ꩜ a promotion at work, the new political reporter and a few bottles of wine. writing for a prestigious newspaper can be much more exciting than it seems. it all depends on who your co-workers are.

content/genre ꩜ frenemies with benefits, threesome, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread . comments are apreciated! lmk if you wanna be tagged on part 2 ♡

warnings under the cut!

part one | part two

warnings ꩜ smut, threesome, anal sex, oral (m. receiving), masturbation (f. and m. receiving), cum swallowing, double penetration, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex, sex in the workplace, voyeurism, tit sucking, jacuzzi sex, protected sex. lmk if i forgot something important.

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chapter one

The newsroom of the largest newspaper in the city of Chicago and the Great Lakes region was exactly what one could expect: true chaos. Phones ringing all the time, people talking loudly, papers scattered in the corners, journalists typing at full speed to deliver their articles in time… the place was a huge mess, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

You walk quickly among the dozens of tables scattered irregularly across the 6th floor of the building. Being the responsible for the entertainment and arts column, you needed to submit an unfinished article in less than two hours.

The click of your white scarpins were practically inaudible over the cacophony of the room. A little out of breath, you arrive at your table and drop your red bag on the dark wooden tabletop with an audible thump, drawing Kim Mingyu's attention.

The black-haired man looks away from the screen in front of him and starts analyzing your outfit. From the pants tight enough to outline your ass perfectly, the refined silk blouse showing just enough cleavage and the small crucifix that rested near your throat. Mingyu lets out a sigh, he hadn't been with you in bed for three hours and he already wanted to drag you back.

"Did you lose something here on my desk, Kim?" you question in a mocking tone when you notice him staring. Of course you wouldn't miss the opportunity to tease him.

"Not really" he responds by getting up and slowly approaching you. A roguish smile tugs at his mouth. "You, on the other hand, lost a pair of lace panties at my place."

"Mingyu!" you shriek and slap the man's strong chest.

"Relax, darling. No one listened." he informs with a wink. "Would you like a coffee? You look tired, didn't you sleep well?"

The worst part of spending the night with him was his inflated ego the next day.

"You are ridiculous."

In a completely childish act, you throw him a middle finger. Mingyu laughs and leaves to grab a coffee for the two of you.

If one asked any Chicago Tribune employee who y/n y/l/n and Kim Mingyu are, they would, undoubtedly, say "the biggest rivals who have ever worked here".

The two of you had been on the newspaper's journalistic team since the beginning of college. You started together as interns, and since then fought like cat and dog. You weren’t sure, but you thought your enmity started with an argument in the archives room. You just knew that "hating" Kim Mingyu in front of everyone was as natural as breathing.

What most people didn't know was that you don’t replicate Tom & Jerry's behavior when you are alone. Protected from curious eyes, you enjoyed your time in a much more pleasurable way.

Literally.

You hated the term "friends with benefits" to describe what you had with Mingyu. Yes, you were friends outside of work. And yes, you had sex occasionally. But you hated people's need to label things, so you preferred to think of Mingyu as just a friend. The "frenemies" dynamic worked well, both sides were comfortable with it.

And that was enough for now.

"I already added sugar. Two small spoons, right? "Mingyu declares as he approaches to hand over the mug filled with steaming coffee.

"Yes, thank you." you offer a grateful smile and take a small sip of the dark liquid.

You weren’t even surprised that he knew how you had your coffee, you’ve had many breakfasts together.

"Good morning!" Yunjin, your best friend, greets you with a beaming smile. "Have you seen Dino?" the youngest questions as she approaches you. "I need to get a file from his computer."

You look back at your friend's table and notice his backpack on the sideboard, but the man himself was nowhere to be found.

"Lipinski asked him to go to her office about twenty minutes ago." Mingyu responds without looking away from the computer screen. "I have no idea why."

You frown at the information.

"Weird." Yunjin comments when turning on her own computer.

"He’ll be back" you state with a shrug.

"Is he being fired?" Yunjin freaks out.

"He wasn't fired. "Mingyu laughs, amused by the situation.

"And how are you so sure?"

Mingyu points something behind you. You turn your head in sync with Yunjin, and see Dino walking towards the three of you. And he wasn't alone.

The man accompanying Dino wore a black suit, white t-shirt and a dark blue tie with white stripes. He was taller than Dino by a good few inches and, even in a suit, it was noticeable that he took care of his physique and probably went to the gym regularly. However, what left you and Yunjin flustered was his beauty.

"Guys, meet our new political journalist." Dino introduces the man.

"Jeon Wonwoo." says as he extends his hand to Yunjin, who was closer to him.

"Yunjin, fashion and lifestyle." the woman introduces herself by taking his hand.

Wonwoo addresses you with expectation in his eyes. His eyes, you notice, are striking and intense. The kind that seems to be able to read your soul with just one look.

"y/n, entertainment and arts."

Suddenly, you feel like the room is too hot.

Maybe it was because of the man in front of you, who was undeniably handsome and seemed too good to be true. Or maybe it was his baritone voice. You hadn't expected the deep, husky tone that came out of his full, heart-shaped lips.

You bite her lower lip to contain a sigh and shake his hand eagerly.

"Mingyu, sports." His face contorts a little, as if he’d already decided that he didn't like Wonwoo.

"Nice to meet you all" Wonwoo says with a friendly smile and adjusts his glasses over his elegant nose.

"Your table should arrive tomorrow." Dino says, drawing everyone’s attention. "You can use mine for today, I'm going to do some field work and I'll be out all day." the youngest explains as he gathers his belongings and puts them inside his backpack. "Now, I need to take you to HR. Let 's go".

Wonwoo agrees and leaves his backpack on the table. The two head to the elevator hall with Dino explaining more about how the newsroom works.

"I call dibs!" you exclaim as soon as you’re sure Wonwoo can’t hear you.

"Hey, not fair!" Yunjin whimpers.

"You already have Dino"

"And you already have Mingyu."

"Dibs… on what?" Mingyu raises his eyebrow when asking. He wasn't even sure if he even wanted to know what the two of you were talking about.

"To fuck him." Yunjin responds as if it was obvious, gesturing with her hand at the same time. "The new guy is pretty hot, if you ask me."

"Your bad taste scares me."

Mingyu's handsome features contort into a frown. He knew he had no right to be jealous of you, but he couldn't help it. It was difficult, even more so when it directly affected his ego. The thought that he might no longer be the only one to have your attention made him slightly irritated.

"Are you jealous?" you tease as you give the man a knowing look.

"He's dying of jealousy." Yunjin says in disbelief. "I never thought I would see Kim Mingyu like this."

"In your dreams, darlings." he says with a mocking tone and goes back to work. "I need to finish my article".

You exchange a glance with Yunjin and you two let out an amused laugh. You take a sip of your almost cold coffee and risk one last look in Mingyu's direction.

The man was frowning and pouting like a toddler being denied something for the first time.

"Don’t be like that. I promise you’ll always be my favorite." you smile flirtatiously.

Totally out of character, Mingyu offers a shy smile.

"You make it sound so sweet when you lie to me" he snorts and you laugh at the comment, finding the whole situation funny as hell.

Everyone returns to their tasks, but the slight irrational jealousy remains in Mingyu’s thoughts. He lets out an unhappy sigh, feeling extremely stupid.

The brunette takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to refocus on finishing the basketball game schedule he needed to deliver. For now, that’s all he could do.

chapter two

It was Wednesday and the Chicago Tribune newsroom was practically empty. You, Mingyu, Wonwoo and two other journalists were the only ones there.

You feel like you’re being watched and look around, finding Mingyu staring from his desk, his bottom lip casually caught between his teeth. You could practically hear his mind engines turning.

You were very angry at him the night before. Out of jealousy, Mingyu was a total dick to you and to Wonwoo at the company dinner. However, after you shouted at him for around 20 minutes and he fingered you in the backseat of his car, you calmed down a bit. You still pretended to be mad, but you weren’t one to really hold on to grudges.

"I need your help in the archives room. "Mingyu says, shaking you out of your own thoughts.

"Is it difficult for you to find a file on your own?" you tease, tilting your head mockingly.

Mingyu smirks.

"It would be easier if the person who organized it had a decent system, my dear." he teases, remembering why you supposedly hated each other. The man gets up and says: "Let's go, I don't have all day".

You roll your eyes at him, but stand up anyways. He leads the way, and the two of you leave an unaware Wonwoo behind.

Mingyu opens the heavy wooden door and lets you get in first. The lights flickered a few times before stabilizing. Several silver shelves filled with white folders were scattered around the place, as well as some wooden tables and chairs. In the right corner, they had a copy machine and other stationery items that could help journalists' research.

You walk a few inches to the first shelf and only then realize that Mingyu didn't say what he was looking for. "What do you want to find?"

"Archives about the 1958 World Cup."

"Hm... I don't know if we'll have much on the subject" you state as you walk towards the shelves at the end of one of the aisles. "This is the stupidest thing to find around here, why would you even… " you’re cut off when Mingyu turns you around to face him.

He presses you against the low sideboard against the back wall of the room. Your eyes widened, not understanding what was happening. Mingyu runs his large hand across your cheek. He wets his lips, staring at yours eagerly.

"Is it okay if I say ‘shut up and kiss me’?"

You roll your eyes, but grab the man by his tie and pull him in for a kiss. Mingyu lets out a sound of approval, satisfied with your attitude. He lifts you and places you on the sideboard, positioning himself between your legs.

Mingyu raises his hands to your ass and squeezes hard, bringing you even closer. You tangle a hand in his hair, while the other one lightly scratches his nape just the way you knew he liked. Your tongues caress each other with dexterity, having already done this hundreds of times.

The kiss wasn't at a desperate pace with a hint of anger, like it was the last time you hooked up. It seemed like Mingyu wanted to prove a point. He kissed you as if he wanted to mark you as his. And you loved it. The world seemed to disappear when you kissed like that. An earthquake could happen, none of you would notice.

The man separates your lips and starts distributing wet kisses across your jaw and neck. You let your head fall back, giving him more space to explore. Mingyu opens the buttons on the black blouse you wear and notices you weren’t wearing a bra. He lets out a grunt as he raises his strong hands calmly; touching you gently. Too gently. You start to get impatient, knowing you didn't have much time before someone else showed up.

Mingyu wraps his lips around your right nipple, making you let out a soft moan. He gives it a few seconds of attention before moving on to the other and repeating the same process of giving small licks and pulling away with a gentle brush of his teeth. He kisses up from your boobs to your neck, his hands stripping you out of your black skirt in the same rhythm.

"You can stop there." you pull the man by his dark locks when he tries to give you a hickey near your collarbone. You hated being marked in visible places.

"Sorry…" the look he gives you is warm and without the slightest trace of regret. His swollen lips pull back into a sly smile and you roll your eyes out of habit. With no more time to waste, the journalist opens the button on his own pants while you take care of removing your panties.

And that's when you see him. If Mingyu turned his face a little, he would see him too.

Precariously leaning on a file box, two hallways away, was Jeon Wonwoo. His eyes widen when he realizes that you discovered him there. You bite your lower lip and wink at him, making it clear that everything was fine.

Wonwoo lets out a breath, which he hadn't even realized he was holding until then. The man didn't intend to be there. He had gone to the files room after you, at Lipinski's request. He didn't expect to find his coworkers about to have sex.

And he didn't expect to want to stay there to watch.

Suddenly feeling bewildered, Wonwoo backs up until his back rests against the white cabinets that were adjacent to the bookshelf that hid him. He brings his right hand to his forehead and presses the space between his eyebrows with his fingertips.

The room was too hot, the black tie suffocated him, the tailored trousers felt like a prison. A little desperate, he runs his hand through his hair, removing it from his sweaty forehead. Your low moans pull him back to the reality of where he was and what was happening just a feet away from him. He straightens his body, ready to get out of there.

However, he can't leave without taking one last look.

Mingyu hid his face in your neck as he fucked you in a controlled tempo. You hugged him tightly, with your lower lip trapped between your teeth in an attempt to contain your moans.

As if they were magnets, your eyes soon meet Wonwoo's again. You smirk, amused to know he was still there.

With his hands shaking, the man lets out a tortured sigh and walks away, leaving the room as quickly and silently as possible.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

"I need to say something." you declare as you try to adjust the black blouse on your body. It was completely crumpled, but whatever.

"Go ahead” Mingyu turns to look at you.

You open and close your mouth several times, unsure of how to start the sentence. As someone whose job was the use of words, you were definitely failing to communicate.

"I didn't want to talk when we were... " you interrupted the sentence, implying what they were doing. "Wonwoo saw us."

Mingyu stops trying to straighten his messy hair and looks at you suspiciously, as if you had just told him that you knew which numbers would be drawn in the lottery.

"And that’s a problem because…?"

"Why aren't you nervous about this? "you question, finding the man’s reaction weird.

You tilt your head, analyzing the man in front of you. He was strangely calm for someone who had just heard that the new nemesis had seen naked the woman he had been jealous of a few days ago.

"What do you think he's going to do? Go out and tell everyone he saw us here?" he rolls his eyes and tucks the hem of his white blouse into his pants. "As if."

"Of course not, you moron. I thought you would freak out for another reason."

"And what reason could that be?" Mingyu asks, holding your chin with his long fingers, forcing you to look at him.

"Nevermind."

Mingyu shrugs, it was in his best interest to leave that subject aside. You try to adjust your black skirt, unzipping at the back to make the process easier.

"How much did he see?" Mingyu asks himself as he leans against the sideboard, waiting for you.

"I don't know when he arrived, but I saw him before you... oh, you know."

"Before I fucked you?" Mingyu laughs loudly and you slap his chest, suddenly feeling ashamed. "Who knows, maybe he learned a thing or two…"

"You are annoying, Kim Mingyu." you let an amused smile escape your lips.

You turn around in a silent request for help from the man, who zips up your skirt.

"And you love it, my dear" Mingyu kisses your neck as he carefully pulls the zipper up. "Now, move that beautiful ass of yours. We have deadlines." he gives you a playful slap on the butt before heading to the exit.

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read part two!

tags ꩜ i hope you liked it so far!

@asscoups17 @wonvsmile @porridgesblog @gaslysainz @thepoopdokyeomtouched @sunset-sana @coupsgfsstuff @stagefrjghts @wonuwonder

#I'm nervous pls dont hate it #mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen hard hours #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #my works

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

Text

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One

No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear

3,516 words

Part Two - Part Three

–-

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.

So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.

So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.

“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”

“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”

“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”

He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.

“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.

“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.

And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.

You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.

“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”

He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.

“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”

It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.

“You think you can handle it?” he asked.

You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.

“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”

Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.

“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.

---

It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.

Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.

“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”

Vox had stormed over to your desk.

“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.

“T-that’s not it! I just-”

Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.

“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”

“Of course, sir,” you said.

You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.

“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.

You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.

“What was that?” he said

“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.

A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.

“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”

Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.

“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”

“Um… yes?” you said.

“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”

“F/N,” you said.

“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”

You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.

---

Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.

Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.

He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.

It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.

Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.

You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.

“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.

“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.

“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”

What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.

“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.

You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.

“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”

“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”

That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.

“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”

He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.

“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”

“If you say so,” you said.

As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.

“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.

You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.

---

It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.

And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.

You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.

So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.

“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.

“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.

“I’m sorry… your what?” he said

“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”

He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.

“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”

“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.

As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

It was awkwardly silent for a minute.

“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”

“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”

“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.

You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.

“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.

“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”

He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?

“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”

Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.

“I think I should go back to work,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.

This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.

Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.

“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.

You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”

“Or?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.

“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.

He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.

“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.

“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.

“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”

You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?

“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”

He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.

It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.

He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.

“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured

He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.

“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.

You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.

Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.

“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”

You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.

#yandere x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #yandere vox #vox x reader

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seresinhangmanjake · 4 months

Text

The One I Want: Part 8

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos

Words: 1951

The One I Want Masterlist

You don't remember how you got to the couch. You don’t remember whose idea it was, or who guided who, or who first fell onto the cushions and pulled the other with them. Jake’s lips have kept you from retaining that information, not that it is of much importance, anyway. It doesn’t change that you are where you are, your legs draped over Jake’s thighs, your fingers woven through the ends of his hair, with his hand latched onto your hip. Your lips have barely had a moment apart since you relieved his concern with your smile and he went back in for a second kiss. Bodies have requested a few decent breaths here and there, but nothing keeps you separated for long.

His kiss is demanding, but not controlling. It’s a kiss unwanting to break, but willing to do so if that is what you need. And his touch follows a similar pattern. Jake is not shy when his hand ventures past your hip, but he’s still cautious. The warmth of his palm sliding over your ass and pulling you closer is gently done, and when he travels up to your flannel sleep shirt and fingers dip under the fabric, he stops just after two knuckles are hidden past the hem. Fingertips grazing your skin are enough to cause shivers of pleasure, but they are still careful not to cross a line.

You’re not actually sure if a line is there for him to cross, yet somehow you both know the possibility exists that it is hiding in plain sight. It might be that his touch an inch or two closer to your breast could ignite a panic response. His fingers playing with the buttons that hold your shirt closed or the tie that keeps your shorts around your hips could have you jumping out of his hold. And with such unpredictability, you appreciate that Jake doesn’t take that risk because you don’t want to stop this. You want to stay as you are, connected as much as you can safely be connected.

Jake has stolen minutes, maybe hours, from your morning—although, you suppose it can’t be considered stealing if you’re freely giving them to him and intentionally surrendering to the way he's making you feel. Any grasp on time disappeared long ago, but you couldn’t possibly be more content. In Jake’s arms, you have chosen to loosen your connection to the space around you and he has led you to a place where nothing else, especially not your past, matters.

And you like it here, in this place. Every available reality suspends. Here, you are not damaged. You are not imperfect. A man like Jake wants you. You believe you’ll never have to leave this town because no one is going to say anything to you that will make it unbearable. Here, there’s the suggestion of a future. Here, you can feel your feet start to plant into the ground.

—

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he says.

You stopped kissing some time ago and he’s taken to staring at you, scanning your features, touching your kiss-swollen lips with a proud smile on his face that says “This was my doing”.

“I’ve thought so since I came through the front door and saw you standing right about…” he shifts on the couch to get the entrance of the apartment in clear view. With eyes squinting as if to find an exact measurement, his finger points to the spot where you stood the night you first met him. “Right about there.”

Your eyes briefly follow his finger. “I thought you were disappointed.”

“Oh no,” Jake chuckles with a light shake of his head. He looks down, almost as if embarrassed, and watches his hand run back and forth over your bare knee. “No, that certainly wasn’t the case. And Nat teased me for it immediately,” he says.

Your brows shoot up. “Teased you?”

“Yeah,” is a long-drawn word. His lips curve into a smile and his eyes find yours again. “She knew I was gonna be a goner.”

When you try to conceal your blush by looking down at your fiddling hands, Jake’s grin widens. “Don’t hide,” he says, leaning over to tilt your chin back up with his thumb and index finger. “I like it.”

“You like what?”

From your cheekbone to your jaw, his knuckle draws a soft line over the pink shade of your cheek. “This.”

You would feel more self-conscious about the blush spreading to your ears and chest if not for the light rosy tint making its way onto his cheeks at the same moment. It’s a lovely shade that blends so well with his complexion and instantly confirms that what you saw at the bonfire was not a trick of the flame's glow. Your abdomen clenches with the sensation of velvety wings fluttering throughout your stomach, but the feeling disperses when a pang of something else hits deep in your chest.

Jake is already so comfortable with his kissing and touching of you. Though he is thoughtful, he doesn’t hesitate or question what he’s doing. He holds on to you like he’s done it a thousand times before. Your bodies mold to this couch as if the position you are sitting in was imprinted into the cushions long ago. He somehow knows what you like; he knows how to kiss you like a man who has been studying you for years. It all comes so naturally—to you and him—that it teeters on the cusp of unreal, and is, therefore, slightly unsettling.

Typically, you’re careful; more calculated in your interactions with people. You aim to avoid putting yourself in positions where you lose your sense of control, and yet, for Jake you let it all go. With Jake, you’re allowing the revival of parts of yourself that were slowly fading from lack of use, but it forces you to wonder if you’re capable of maintaining that freedom without him there to help you. You don’t want to clam up if he’s out of reach. You owe it to Jake to try to apply everything he’s given you so you can do right by him. If you hurt him from an inability to let yourself remain open, you expect you won’t find of self-forgiveness.

You don’t realize you’re staring off into space, your eyes on an out-of-focus plant in the corner of the room, until Jake’s hand cups your face and his thumb begins to stroke your cheekbone. When you look up at him, the smile that at some point fell from his face returns and he leans into you. His fingers slide into your hair to guide your head closer to his.

“Jake, this isn’t trouble, is it?” you whisper before his lips can meet yours.

He pauses. Then with his brow scrunched in confusion, he pulls back. “What do you mean?”

“This.”

A palm returns to your cheek and that thumb restarts its back-and-forth motion. “You and me?” he asks, but his head shakes before you can answer. “No, we are not trouble.”

Your chuckle lacks full commitment. A twinge of doubt in your capabilities weaseled itself into your thoughts, and though Jake is rather effective at shaking it, you can feel remnants lingering in a place he might not be able to reach. “You’re so sure,” you mutter.

“Yes,” he says in the limited space between you. “I’m sure.”

“How?”

When Jake sighs and shifts to rest his back against the couch, you know it is not from exasperation. If you could so easily irritate him, he would have given up on anything to do with you after twenty-four hours of you living in his space. Instead, it’s a sigh of contemplation. By the look on his face, your question is one he already has an answer to for himself. His extended thought is for your sake; an extra minute taken to piece together the most encouraging explanation that will help you understand why he’s so confident.

Your hand is encased in his and he squeezes. His stare matches yours. Intense. Unwavering. “Because,” he starts, “I more than thought you were beautiful when I first saw you. I wanted you, and I have wanted you every day since—you and me, just like this, right here. But I wasn’t going to do anything unless you felt like you could trust me,” he says. “And you said you do now, right? You trust me?”

You nod. Then he nods.

“We’ve lived together for months, and I’ve been deep in it, beautiful. Nothing you can do or say will make me think anything other than what I think of you now. So you’re not trouble for me,” he says, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. “And I swear I won’t be trouble for you. If you trust me, trust that.”

Your eyes sting and your nose fills with familiar pressure. There’s something in the ease with which Jake soothes your worries that is sickeningly overwhelming. Your method of relieving pain is, as it has always been, to flee, and after spending so many years doing so, you refused to entertain any other option. But this is Jake, and Jake is different. He doesn’t do the fleeing thing. He does the “I want what I want so I will figure out how to get it” thing. And what he has wanted is your trust, which he obtained by becoming exactly what you didn’t know you needed.

Not wanting to fall into a mess in front of him for the second time in one day, you move your legs off of Jake’s thighs despite his noise of protest and scoot your body next to his to regain some of that control.

“What are you–” he begins with a hint of worry in his voice, but you instantly silence him with the soft “hush” that leaves your lips as you throw your leg over his hips and find your balance atop his lap. Jake’s hands settle on your waist. They snake around your back and he tugs you to his chest. The awe that swirls in his eyes as he gazes up at you fills you with confidence, and you tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear before gripping his shoulders.

“I’m going to kiss you,” you say. Jake blinks, gulps, and nods, both of you knowing that each kiss between you prior to this moment was initiated by him. “I’m going to kiss you, and after that, we’re going to stop focusing on me. We’re going to stop talking about me.”

“I like talking about you,” he says. One hand slowly runs down your clothed spine, over your ass, and along your outer thigh, then makes its way back up. “Can’t we do both?”

“No.” As you lessen the distance between your lips, Jake’s neck stretches up to connect the kiss, but you maintain just enough space to keep him from succeeding. “I tell you something, you tell me something, remember?”

With his eyes glued to your mouth, Jake nods again.

Good, you think, because step one in your determination to remain open to him is being for him who he is for you—someone to trust. “It’s your turn to tell me why you don’t like to be alone.”

The heat of a hand finds the back of your neck. Fingers weave into your hair. “I’ll tell you anything you want.”

“What I want is to know you, too.”

Jake’s inhale expels as a soft sigh. His eyes pierce yours. “It’s heavy stuff, beautiful.”

“I can handle it,” you say. Then you lean in close so your lips can ghost over his. “Trust me.”

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @eloquentdreamer @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

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catscidr · 2 months

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i woke up and got possessed by the urge to write the smut i wanted to ramble about yesterday. i have nothing else to say. you cant blame me for any of this. it was inevitable.

cw shameless smut, dottore x afab reader, brainrot rambling. he uses his fingers for a good cause °ᗜ°

working overtime was a chore. your bosses expected you to stay after hours to work on documents meant for the next day and you’d get judgemental looks if you didn’t stay in the office longer than you needed to. unfortunately for you, the knowledge that they might think lesser of you for not doing overtime was enough for you to stay.

apparently not many people shared the sentiment though, because when you finally look up from your computer screen to stretch your aching muscles, you’re met with deafening silence– aside from your shoulders cracking.

which isn’t to say that no one is in the office besides you, either. but you doubt zandik stayed behind because he cared about the managers judging him. he always seemed to move along his own schedule, placing more importance on work than relationships with… anyone. granted, it’s not like he was ecstatic to work at the office, but he was naturally good at whatever job the boss gave him. to other people it looks like he works hard, but really, he’s just doing the bare minimum. you don’t want to think that people are too dense to notice it, but at the same time you can’t really blame them; it’s not like it’s normal for overworked office employees to notice such little details about a coworker that doesn’t care for them.

though, ever since you and your cubicle neighbor got told off by the man himself, you’ve found yourself looking for him in crowds. when you take the subway on your way home you try to spot his icy blue hair amongst the sea of suits and blazers, when you attend office-funded outings at the bar you hope to find him sipping on the cheap beer they provide, and even now you’re subtly trying to catch a glimpse of him in the dim lighting of the office. your efforts usually end in failure, unfortunately- but not this time.

you always expect to see nothing but tired businessmen and women cramped in the subway, to see the same faces you greet every day of the week downing that cheap beer, and to see a myriad of black screens in the office.

you didn’t think you’d meet his gaze as he walked out of the boss’s office, completely inconspicuous but still harbouring that same aura of suspiciousness.

“you’re still here?” you ask before you can stop your lips from moving. sure it was currently three hours after hours, but speaking so informally to a senior could bode poorly for you at any time.

thankfully, he just chuckles as a response. but you notice how his lips immediately tilt back down to their original resting state, the lighting making it look like he’s scowling down at you.

“i had to take care of some personal business,” he says plainly, not elaborating further (and you think he would avoid doing so even if you asked). you nod, glancing down at your uniform to smooth it down nervously, suddenly acutely aware of how tired you must look. “well i hope you were able to take care of it without a… hitch,” you cough awkwardly.

sure you knew zandik well enough to not call him a stranger, but recently it seems like he’s been spending more time in your head than in the office. you blame his mysterious and brooding personality. “i understand why authors like to write mysterious love interests in their romance novels…” you think offhandedly, for no reason at all whatsoever.

his footsteps pull you out of your daydream, right before your mind drifted off to not-so-professional thoughts. pulling the rolling chair out from under the desk, zandik takes a seat next to you, crossing an ankle over his knee. you shuffle away to give him some space (to politely accommodate his long legs or to stop yourself from pouncing on him, you wouldn’t be able to tell).

“i appreciate the sentiment. but why are you still here? you work efficiently, i doubt you’re so behind schedule that you need to stay in the office for this long.” the words that leave his lips entrance you– the slight drawl, bordering on seductive, makes you swallow the saliva in your mouth. you shake your head, humbly dismissing his praise (though your brain buzzes at what else you wish he would say).

“i just had to take care of some… things,” you respond awkwardly, fidgeting with your fingertips as you avoid looking into his carmine eyes for too long. he hums, placing down the file he had been carrying around on the desk to cross his arms over his chest, expression unreadable aside from the corners of his lips tilting up ever so slightly.

“right. things,” he says, his tone deep, rumbling in your chest as your heart hammers into your ribcage. you’ve talked to plenty of coworkers over your time working here, but none have made you break a sweat from their mere presence.

“h-haha, yeah, things. um, how have you been? i want to apologize again for the other day, we really didn’t mean to pry into your personal life, we were just-“ zandik makes a tsk noise, “concerned for my wellbeing, of course,” he finishes. the ghost of a smile he wore vanished, leaving you with a feeling of dread and anticipation. “you’re not the only one looking out for your coworkers though, sweetheart. you don’t look too good yourself,” zandik says, raising a brow at you. you were all but shivering under his gaze, brows stopping the sweat that had started building up on your forehead from getting in your eyes. if anything, you looked worse than him. you barely register the pet name before he speaks up again.

“we can’t have you overworking yourself too much, can we? you’re one of out best employees,” he says your name softly, practically purring. the same thing you felt that morning came back tenfold– though this time you couldn’t possibly leave for a bathroom break to take care of it.

zandik approaches you like a wolf does with a rabbit, slowly and quietly, to reduce the chances of you fleeing the scene. he gets close enough that his knee almost grazes yours.

“what kind of senior would i be if i just let you go without offering any kind of help?” you knew it was a rhetorical question and he wasn’t expecting an answer, but you still try to muster up the courage to say something, anything.

“is there anything i can do to help?” he continues, tone sickeningly sweet, practically foreign on his tongue. but the more he speaks, the more you feel your resolve melt, the more he pushes your buttons until-

“you’re not very good at being subtle,” he whispers, placing the tip of his shoe right up against your clothed core. you keen, legs widening as if on autopilot, but back away into your chair to flee from the sinful sensation. his lips stretch into a grin, the same expression you played on repeat in your mind when you got off a night ever since he confronted you and your coworker.

“don’t run away now. your body is practically begging for me to touch you,” he coos, extending his slender leg to press his polished shoe right up into you again, pulling a whine out of your lips. you lick your lips and swallow the lump in your throat, scrambling to say something to save your dignity.

“y-you don’t know that. are you a… doctor or something?” you huff, trying to steady your breathing. he slides his foot up and down your panties, pencil skirt riding up the more you widen your legs. zandik laughs under his breath, eyes narrowing at you for a split second.

“yeah, i am. that’s what i do as a second job. i run an underground hospital and run unethical tests on desperate patients.” the words roll over you like drops of water on a chinchilla– even if you did listen to him though, you wouldn’t have believed him. “that’s why i can tell that your heart is pounding. that’s why i can tell that you want this,” he coos, leaning forward ever so slightly. you buck your hips unconsciously, chasing the feeling he oh so graciously was giving you.

“that’s not- mngh, ‘m not a pervert,” you whimper, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your lewd expression. zandik only laughs at you, pulling back to stand up and lean over you, his lips right next to your ears.

he places a hand on your thigh, the other going between your legs to rub at your drenched panties. “oh but you are. getting this wet when i’ve barely done anything to you,” he purrs, middle finger gliding up to tease your clit. “just want me to take you right here, huh? my my, you’re so desperate.”

if you hadn’t taken care of your needs you would have come already, but even then you were still teetering on the edge of an explosive climax. his calloused, slender fingers slide up and down, teasing your clothed hole as it flutters around nothing. you try to close your legs to keep his hand steady but he swiftly brings one knee up to rest on the chair, keeping your legs spread. zandik takes ahold of your wrist with his free hand and pulls your arm away from your face as you turn your head away to hide.

“oh no you don’t,” he hisses as he grabs your face with one hand, cheeks squishing together to turn your head back to face him. “you’re going to look at me when you come.” your eyes flutter, thighs twitching as the coil in your lower abdomen threatens to snap. your gaze flickers down between your legs to watch his deft fingers toy with you, then drag up to look at the tent in his slacks. zandik tightens his grip on your face, forcing you to look up at him.

“are you fucked dumb already? i said don’t look away,” he hisses, eyes narrowing at you as he pulls your ruined underwear to the side to slide two fingers into your cunt. you squeal at the stretch, but you were so wet that you didn’t feel more than a pinch before you started moaning freely again. his thumb rubs tight circles over your clit as his middle and ring fingers pump into you earnestly. he curls them up to prod at the spongy spot inside of you, and your eyes roll back momentarily from the sensation.

“come on, i can tell you’re close sweetheart,” he coos, lips ghosting over yours, just away from reach. you whine and moan, hands gripping his flexing forearms as you feel your body lose control.

the sound of your pussy squelching in the otherwise quiet office throws you over the edge, your vision going white as you just barely make out zandik’s face while he makes you ride out your orgasm, adding a third finger inside of your cunt to stuff you full. all of his fingers stop but his thumb, still rubbing your sensitive clit as you twitch and jolt in pleasure.

“thaaat’s it, that’s my girl, ride it out,” he purrs, grinning down at you with a smug laugh. “took me so well,” zandik praises, curling his fingers up inside your used cunt. you thrash weakly, letting out a muffled ”‘s too much”. he continues for a few seconds before letting go of your face and pulling out his fingers slowly, looking down to admire the slick covering his hand.

“mmh, made a mess. gonna clean it up?” he asks coyly, bringing his hand up to your lips. you waste no time to lick it off, brows furrowing at the tangy taste. he pulls his hand away to lick it himself, holding eye contact with you as he goes over where you just cleaned him off. a shiver runs down your spine at the sight.

while you shut your eyes for a moment to catch your breath, he grabs a few tissues from the box on your desk and cleans the mess between your legs, pressing down on your aching clit on purpose to make sure you don’t fall asleep. you jolt, whimpering as you glare weakly at him, earning yourself a chuckle from the man between your legs.

“i hope you don’t think this is a one-time fling,” he whispers, tossing the used tissues in the bin under your desk. zandik pulls the edge of your skirt down to cover your messy thighs and straightens up, turning to leave. he palms his bulge, holding eye contact with you as you stare at his hand, feeling yourself get wet again.

“see you tomorrow.”

#୧ ‧₊˚rambling!#dottore office au #i need him so bad it's not even funny anymore #dottore please just one chance JUST ONE. ILL BE GOOD #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #dottore x afab reader #dottore x fem!reader #genshin smut #dottore smut #୧ ‧₊˚cat's work!

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cookinguptales · 1 year

Text

So… last week I made a vent post about an accessibility issue I’d had with some podcasters. I really only meant for the post to be read by my followers (who to my knowledge aren’t familiar with the podcast in question) which is why I put minimal tags on it and didn’t name the show.

But… the post got legs that I wasn’t expecting, and eventually a lot of people asked for the name of the show. I hadn’t intended on creating a whole big thing, so I was kind of reluctant, but I did see the logic in what they were saying — as a disabled woman myself, I would also want to know if I were supporting podcasters whose values did not align with mine. So I told people quietly in the notes that the show had been Old Gods of Appalachia.

Things… did not stay quiet.

Frankly speaking, one of the reasons why I don’t write as many posts about disability and ableism these days is because I got tired of people writing to me and telling me that people like me should be dead. So you can imagine what kind of fucking week I’ve been having since all that blew up. It’s been a very high symptom week, too, so I’m just. Very tired and stressed rn.

Personally, I’d be happy to never talk about it again and try to get back to my everyday life, but I did think it was important to note that the creators of OGOA must have gotten wind of the post, and they did contact me.

I won’t post the whole email here, but it was a good response. Since seeing my post, they’d tried getting in contact with the venue and realized very quickly why I’d been so frustrated. They ended up needing to go through their booking agent to get any kind of answers — so like, to the people who sent me a thousand messages telling me I was an entitled idiot who just needed to contact the venue, please know that none of you were remotely helpful.

Again, I’m not going to post the entire email, but I did think it was important to be fair and use the same platform that I used to vent to tell people that they seem committed to doing better in the future. They told me that they would be making sure that they have all this information going forward and that they would no longer allow it to be such a barrier to entry for disabled fans.

They invited me back to the show and… god, I’ll admit it. I really had to think about my answer. Not to sound ungrateful, but after the week I’ve had, even thinking about the podcast, the podcasters, and that damn live show has me stressed af. I had to really consider whether I even wanted to go.

But in the months since I first contacted them, they added a show that’s a lot closer to where I live, so rather than a weekend trip, I could just take a single bus. And it’s near one of my favorite Japanese restaurants in the city, so if all else fails, I can at least have some good katsudon. So I will be going to the Philadelphia show.

(Though for fellow disabled fans, Terakawa Ramen is not wheelchair accessible. 🙃 Most days I can do the two steps into the restaurant, but not always. Philly, I love and loathe you.)

Anyway, I wanted to reply to them before I made a post here, but… yeah. We’ve worked things out, I think. Only the future can tell what they'll do going forward but they do seem committed to doing better.

To me, there are always two goals when I write about disability and ableism. The first is that disabled people will feel seen. That is always, always my primary goal. It’s so easy for us to feel invisible and unimportant, and I always want to make you all feel seen, just like I want to feel seen. The second is that able-bodied folks will listen and learn and do their best to support their disabled peers in the future.

So… I think that my post managed to fulfill both of those goals. A lot of disabled people have reblogged that post and have talked about their own experiences, and a lot of them have explicitly said how much that post makes them feel seen. And the podcasters in question seem to have really reflected on their actions and seem to want to do better going forward.

So as incredibly fucking stressed out as I’ve been, I guess I can’t regret making the post. It’s always good to know that your words can have impact. The post has long since moved out of my friends circle so I assume it’ll just keep circulating and I’ll keep getting shitty anons and chat messages, but I’m just gonna focus on what good has come from it. I’m hopeful that my post will make life tangibly better for at least a few disabled people, and I’m encouraged by the fact that podcasters who I’d formerly liked do actually seem to want to do the work needed to improve.

And uh I’m not answering any more messages from people who just wanna swear at me. I’m tired. Leave me alone.

#it took me six hours to get out of bed today due to dizziness so like #forgive me if I'm not quite as coherent as usual lmao #it really has been a SUPER bad week as far as symptoms go #old gods of appalachia #OGOA #podcasts #cw:#ableism #disability

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ranhaitanisgf · 5 months

Note

Hi 👋. Can I have “enemies to lover” and “stuck together” head canons with Ran. They get handcuffed together by their friends. And are forced to spend the day together. And they both realize they aren’t as bad as they thought. Since they were only ‘enemies’ due to some misunderstandings. Maybe reader has to go through her schedule and Ran just in a forced to tag along. So they go grocery shopping, he sees her taking care of siblings, etc. Ran teases her a lot as well. Thanks!

— ran haitani // enemies to lovers // stuck together

[𖤐] haii i once again just cranked this out w/o thinkin abt it sawr. idk !! i am so tired rn i cant even tell if this is good but wtv lmk if its good or not lol. i hope you all enjoy xoxo !

wc ; 1.8k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

❥ when you felt something cold and metal click on your wrist as you were getting ready to leave school, you were certainly not expecting to come face to face with ran haitani, and you were especially not expecting for the thing around your wrist to be a pair of handcuffs, the other end being attached to his own wrist. when you glanced at the people next to him, you could only sigh, seeing his brother and your best friend grinning devilishly, (you swore you’d only seen that look on rindou’s face when he was beating someone up, which seemed unlucky for you somehow).

“can you guys stop fucking around and take these off? i have things to do.” “heyyy, that’s so mean to me, (y/n)! i’ll come by your place and take them off at the end of the day, but for now they’re staying on! you’ll thank me later!” “what?! get back here-! ugh, already gone…”

❥ you stood there for a few moments, wondering if you should just drag ran along with you and chase after the pair until they let the two of you go. you’re not really concerned about whatever is on ran’s schedule for the day, but you’re more worried about how you have to get all of my responsibilities done. you have to go to the grocery store, pick up tonight’s dinner, cook dinner, help with your sibling’s homework, do your own homework, and one of them ask for you to bake something for their school? that was also going to take time, but maybe-

“hellooo, earth to (y/n)? you there?” “yeah, i was just thinking. you heard of it?” “guys would probably like you more if you were cute instead of so aggressive, y’know~” “do you ever shut up about stupid shit for more than two seconds? you know what, don’t even answer that. i have stuff to do that’s more important than your stuff, so let’s go.”

❥ on the walk to the grocery store, you heard quite a number of complaints from ran about how ‘he’s a busy guy’ and ‘i’ve got stuff to take care of too!’, but frankly, you just dragged him along anyways. you knew that if there was anything seriously important on his schedule that he would probably be more serious, but given the teasing tone of his voice, you completely ignored him.

❥ walking through the aisles of the grocery store was a bit of a challenge given the special circumstances, especially with the fact that ran was like some kind of child, popping random snacks into the cart when you weren’t looking. it didn’t help that the two of you received some very strange looks, people whispering about god knows what as you walked by, (you could never come back here).

“what’s with all this stuff you’re getting anyways?” “for my siblings.” “you have siblings? how many?” “three younger; two brothers and a sister.”

❥ there wasn’t a whole lot of serious talking during the shopping trip aside from that, but you noticed that ran seemed very pensive when he learned that information. you probably would have thought about his sudden seriousness a bit more if you weren’t very eager to get out of this store, (though you had to admit, he was somewhat cute when he was serious).

❥ the walk to your home proved to be just a tad bit awkward; there wasn’t a whole lot of words exchanged between the two of you. you weren’t sure what you were even supposed to say given the situation, so you just decided to stay quiet, which is what ran had seemingly also decided. at least, until he suddenly spoke up.

“do you do this everyday?” “hm? yeah, on days when i’m not working.” “working? isn’t there some school rule that you can’t have a job?” “yeah, that’s why i work in yokohama.” “yokohama?!” “yep.”

❥ for the next few minutes there was no other words spoken, but he grabbed some of the grocery bags out of your hands, carrying a couple more bags than you were.

❥ this was one of the only times you had ever seen him this serious, and it was throwing you a bit off. he was usually the stark opposite of serious, so to see this new side to him made you wonder what he could be hiding. just a moment after you turned the idea over in your head, the teasing tone was back in ran’s voice.

“so, you’re finally able to be seen with me in public, hm~ how does it feel?” “what’re you talking about?” “just so you know, it isn’t cute to play dumb, sweetcheeks.” “um, seriously, what are you talking about?”

❥ you’re still unsure of how to feel about the words exchanged between the two of you during the rest of the walk; honestly, you had always disliked him because of the way that he disregarded the fact that he was quite privileged to be able to attend school and therefore almost never attended, but you’d never hated him for something small like that. and sure, maybe you thought it was stupid that he was always beating people up, but to be honest, it wasn’t exactly any of your business in the first place, so why would you care?

❥ he revealed to you in short time that he had been informed that you were embarrassed to be seen with him at all, which was why he disliked you, (you never recalled even thinking such a thing, so you were really questioning the source of his information).

❥ he’d even acknowledged the points you’d told him about school, ran even mentioning that he was trying to catch up on his studies so that he could maybe still graduate with the rest of the grade, (the amount of work he had missed was incomparable to any other student aside from rindou).

❥ you felt a little bit relieved when the two of you arrived at your house, entirely because you didn’t want to think too much about ran haitani right now. you have other priorities, and thinking about ran haitani can wait until later.

❥ when you opened the door and slid your shoes off, you could hear the pitter-patter of little footsteps running to the front door. your siblings all ran for you, wrapping themselves around your legs and hugging your side as they all talked at once.

“i missed you so much!” “school today was so boring, and at lunch-” “what’s for dinnerrrrr, i’m sooooo hungry!”

❥ despite all of the overlapping of the sentences, you still responded to each one of your siblings with patience and kindness, making ran’s heart skip a few beats, (he’s ignoring why).

❥ when your siblings asked about the boy next to you, you just said that he was ‘some guy from school’, but the teasing wink you sent his way did something to him. he had only ever seen the side of you that was always slightly annoyed with him, so this was truly the first time he had ever seen you even somewhat outside of this norm.

❥ he thought it was pretty nice :)

❥ he helped you set all the groceries on the counter, even taking them out of the bags and handing the cold items to you as you put them in refrigerator. the sudden change in the relationship between the two of you did feel a little bit weird, but it was somehow in the best way possible. as you cooked dinner, the playful banter between the two of you as he watched you cook and helped with prepping ingredients was honestly refreshing, which was something you never thought you would think about ran haitani.

“hmm, i bet i can shop a carrot faster than you~” “oh really? you realize i’ve been chopping carrots for a long time?” “you’re not the only one who cooks dinner around here, doll.” “okay then, you’re on!”

❥ maybe it was the fact that you were both older sibling’s, but you somehow felt like he was so understanding of the situation. despite the fact that the both of you were forced to be together after school, here he was, helping you cook dinner for your family and not trying to pull apart the handcuffs, (you had to admit though, it was a challenge to cook with only one hand).

❥ you also had to admit that seeing ran interact with your younger siblings during dinner completely warmed your heart; his charm was turned up all the way, but with the best intentions possible. he was indulging in all the random talk about their current interests and hobbies, and he even offered to teach one of your younger brothers how to skateboard!

❥ after dinner, you helped out with any homework you could while you did your own homework, telling ran off at the fact that he didn’t collect the homework assignments that he had missed in the past couple of weeks, (he took a couple looks at your paper and what you were working on, then immediately shook his head and said, ‘next time, maybe…’).

❥ after your siblings were asleep, the two of you even had a blast baking the brownies for your younger sister’s school event! at one point, he threw a handful of flour at you, leaving you covered in the white powder. you both stood there shocked, ran looking at you with a shocked look on his face as if he wasn’t expecting that outcome at all.

❥ and so went to get your revenge.

❥ your hand dipped into the container of flour throwing it right back at him, even going so far as to rub it all over his scalp so that his dark roots were now white. you were a bit unnerved by how good he looked when he was laughing, and how melodious his voice was, especially when he was calling your name- stop! what are you even thinking right now?!

❥ the fight eventually died down when the amount of space between the two of you was suddenly very small, both of you slowing down your actions and stopping, looking at each other, (was there some kind of drug in his gaze? why can’t you look away?)

“y’see somethin’ you like?” “w-what?! no! i mean, i was just, i wasn’t even-” “relax, relax, i’m just teasing. you should’ve seen your face though; it was pretty cute~”

❥ and with that, he just continued on with baking the brownies, acting as if what he just said was completely normal. somehow, this technique worked on you, since you also just pretended like nothing happened, though you didn’t step away when you realized the two of you were standing arm to arm at the counter.

❥ even though you were pretending that nothing had happened, you couldn’t deny the butterflies you felt in your stomach, courtesy of ran haitani of all people, (if somebody had told you this morning what would happen, you would have called them a bumbling liar).

❥ maybe being temporarily attached to him wasn’t so bad…

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kangnina · 2 months

Text

Jungwon: The Key

***This is my fic that was previously posted on my old account thatonenoona

-------------------------MDNI--------------------

“I’m not sure who it belongs to. I’ve checked the list three times. It’s an extra key. It doesn’t match any of the other ones we currently have.”

“You have provided no useful information.” you say, pouring milk into your bowl of cereal. Ever since you and your friend started a cleaning service, things have been going pretty smoothly. You have a dozen regular clients who trust you enough to give you a copy of their residential keys.

“You’re welcome,” your friend snaps, tossing the key onto the table before walking away. You study it as you eat your cereal. It belongs to someone. Otherwise, it wouldn’t exist. This key could be very important and we should return it to its owner immediately. Your friend walks back into your kitchen. “I’m going home.”

“Who is the last client on your list?” She hands you her appointment list.

“Park Sunghoon?”

“Yeah, he’s new. First appointment was yesterday. When I came to clean, he had company over. He and some other guy were listening to music in his office the whole time I was there. Anyway, when I was finished he told me to take the spare keys off the rack in the foyer. He said he is hosting a party tonight, so come back tomorrow morning.” You look at the key in your hand. “So you grabbed more than one key?”

“Yes. He said keys”

“Maybe it belongs to his friend.”

“I guess. Maybe. But if we took his friend’s key, wouldn’t he have told Sunghoon about it?”

“That guy might not know we have it. He may just think it’s lost.”

“Okay… now what?”

“I’ll handle the appointment tomorrow and I’ll put it back where you found it. I’m not going to bring it up unless someone else brings it up. We don’t want to get into the habit of mixing up people’s keys. It’s bad for business.” Your friend nods but still looks a bit confused.

“Well, Sunghoon’s appointment is at 10:00. Here are his keys. Good luck.”

--------------

You pull your van into the driveway and unload your small cart of cleaning supplies. As you make your way to the front door, a man with beautiful feline-like eyes watches you through a window. He opens the door, just as you approach.

“Mr. Park Sunghoon, nice to meet you. My partner tells me you needed our cleaning services today. Thank you for your business.” You smile brightly, extending your hand for a hand shake. He returns your smile, his dimples are deep. His eyes study you from head to toe in your pink coveralls.

“Please come in,” he shakes your hand and holds the door open as you push your cart into the foyer. “Start in the dining room. Thank you,” he says politely before disappearing down the hall.

“I’ve never–” But he’s gone. “Mr. Park?” No response. That’s weird. No detailed instructions or further information? You find your way to the dining room, you put in your earbuds and begin cleaning. While cleaning the floor, out of the corner of your eye, you notice a different handsome man is watching you. It scares you and he seems amused by it.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.” he says yet he’s still smiling as if really did. “Could you please also clean the bedrooms upstairs? I had a few guests stay overnight and they are animals. I’ll pay extra for your trouble.”

“Wait. Are you Mr. Park Sunghoon?”

“Yes.”

“Oh! I’m sorry sir. This other gentleman let me in and I thought he was you,” you say embarrassed.

“That was my friend Jungwon. But he’s gone now. Sorry for the confusion.”

“It’s totally fine.”

“This is for you.” Sunghoon hands you a folded piece of paper.

“You have my key. Please hand deliver it to this address. ~Jungwon.” You look at Sunghoon.

“I’m just the messenger,” Sunghoon says, holding up his hands and backing away slowly. He smiles mischievously before turning and walks away. “He doesn’t bite.”

—-----------

“Hello.” Jungwon says as he opens his door, wearing a blue tracksuit. He looks you over, head to toe. He thinks you look cute in your pink coveralls with your hair tied up in a pink handkerchief. But you’re a ball of nerves. So worried that he’ll be angry about his key– you just start babbling. You don’t even notice him adjusting his stance to hide his growing bulge.

“Good evening sir. First, I would like to sincerely apologize for the mix up. You see, my partner was told to take the keys for Mr. Park’s house… We are both truly sorry for the inconvenience. I would like to offer you a complimentary cleaning on the date and time of your choosing.” Jungwon holds out his hand expectantly. You reach into your pocket and pull out the key, putting it into his hand.

“Thank you.” he says. “Despite this little mishap, Sunghoon highly recommends your services. But I’d like to do a consultation before I officially accept your offer.”

“I understand sir.”

“You can just call me Jungwon. C’mon, I'll show you around.”

“...uhh, yeah. Sure. Just let me grab my clipboard. Then you can tell me what you need.” Jungwon walks a few steps ahead of you, giving you the opportunity to steal looks at him. Dark straight hair falling just over his beautifully shaped eyes. They are probably the prettiest eyes you’ve seen in quite some time. Broad shoulders. His bare chest peeking out of his half zipped track jacket. Focus. Don’t stare. Don’t screw this up. He shows you each room in the house and explains his requests. You nod as you follow him, writing notes on your clipboard. As you make your way back to the front door, you look over your notes. Jungwon also looks at your clipboard over your shoulder. His sudden proximity makes your heart beat faster. You clear your throat.

“Um, I think I have all the information I need sir– Jungwon. Would you like to book me– book an appointment with me now? Or I can give you my number and you can call me anytime you want– to set up a date– for your appointment.” Smooth. It’s getting a little hard to think straight when he’s standing so close to you, watching you babble again. He gives you a dimpled smile.

“ Are you available tomorrow at 9:00?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

-------------------

Jungwon opens the door before you even reach for the doorbell. “Good morning.” He says as he gestures for you to enter. You immediately notice his muscular arms in his tank top and how his gray sweatpants hang low onto his hips. His wet hair is dripping onto the towel draped over his shoulders.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” he asks, drying his hair.

“I had a banana on the drive over,” you say, pretending to read your clipboard to avoid gawking at him. No client has ever asked you if you’ve eaten before arriving for their appointment. He is already much different than the rest.

“I made pancakes. Please come join me. I don’t want you to clean my house on an empty stomach.” He continues to dry his hair and you follow him into the kitchen. The table is completely set as if he was waiting for the arrival of a guest. Did he really plan to eat breakfast with me? As if he can hear your thoughts, he speaks while pulling out a chair for you.

“My mom had to cancel our plans at the last minute. She doesn’t like wasting food and neither do I. So eat up.” He tosses his towel over the back of his chair before he sits down across from you. He pours a glass of water for you.

“Thank you.” You begin putting food onto your plate. You’ve never been fed breakfast by a man you just met. It’s harmless but something about it still feels risqué. Intimate. You feel your face getting hot as you try not to overthink about eating with Jungwon. An impossible task. You are silently spiraling and he seems oblivious. You wonder if he’s eaten breakfast with a woman other than his mom. Look at him. Who wouldn’t want to wake up next to him?The answer is definitely YES. He must have fed other women after–

“So when did you start?” he asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Hm? I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“How long have you owned your business?”

“Almost a year. I hated college and I don’t want to be a bartender or a stripper. So I became my own boss.” you say, shrugging your shoulders. He laughs at your unfiltered honesty.

“As long as you are happy, that is all that truly matters,” he says sincerely before taking a sip of his orange juice. He’s my new favorite client. Your own mom– who absolutely hates your current career choice– would never believe this kind of human exists. A polite stranger who lets you into his home, then he feeds you pancakes and tells you that your happiness is ‘all that truly matters.’

Jungwon’s phone rings within his pocket. He pulls it out to look at it and then apologizes to you before leaving the room to answer it. While he’s occupied, you make quick work of your breakfast. Then you start cleaning the kitchen. You tidy up as much as possible without moving his plate in case he isn’t finished eating. When he returns to find you cleaning, he finishes his breakfast while watching you work.

“I’ll be around. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask,” he says as he loads his plate into the dishwasher. You nod. The silly key mix up wasn’t so bad after all. You’re obviously winning over Jungwon as a new client. You can’t wait to share the good news with your friend when the job is finished.

—------------------

You wouldn’t have known that Jungwon generally keeps his house very neat. Ever since he met you, he’s been intentionally neglecting his usual chores. His house is not filthy and his requests are not unreasonable or overly demanding but he still insisted on having a recurring weekly appointment. Beneath his kind demeanor, he is slowly losing his mind over you. You are so focused on your job that you don’t even notice the signs. Like the time he playfully doused your white shirt with the garden house while you washed his car. Or the time he asked you to come over to clean in the evening. His mother just happened to cancel their dinner plans so he invited you to sit and eat with him again. Jungwon thought you may have caught him biting his lip as he watched you bent over. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. The little grunts you make when you scrub really hard turn him on. He has a secret audio recording of it on his phone. As the weeks go by, he finds himself dreaming of you on more than one occasion. You’d never guess that he only insists on washing his own bed sheets because of the mess he makes while desperately humping a pillow he wishes was you.

Jungwon knows you have a key to other clients’ houses and he wonders why you still haven’t asked for his key after you gave it back. Maybe she’s afraid that I’ll turn her down because of the mix up. He is torn about offering it to you. Not because he doesn’t trust you. It’s really because he doesn’t trust himself. Jungwon is afraid that you’ll find out about his obsession over you. He’s imagined it many times. You might show up early for an appointment. So you let yourself in. You peek into his opened office door to greet him. But instead you discover him fisting his cock and shamelessly whining your name while watching a video of you.

The video itself is innocent. It was a hot day and you’re wearing little pink shorts and a t-shirt with your hair tied up in your signature pink handkerchief. Jungwon wanted to clean the garage. It required a lot of organizing, bending, and lifting. So he insisted on helping you with this special project. He took the video under the guise of proving to his mom that he finally cleaned it. He said she’s nagged him about it for years. His favorite part is when you smile into the camera and wave saying “Hi Jungwon’s mom!” Your clothes were dusty and your beautiful face had dirt smudges all over it but you didn’t care. Jungwon loves that about you. He remembers that day so vividly. Watching you work beside him in the crowded garage, he was so turned on he had to fake a stomach cramp. He actually went to go jerk off in the upstairs bathroom. Jungwon felt so pathetic as he quickly tried to clean up everything so you wouldn’t know. Looking at himself in the mirror, he decided that you needed to know how badly he wants you.

—-----------------

As you prepare to leave Jungwon’s house, you see a note next to your bag, with a key. “I had to run. Please lock the door when you leave. See ya next week. Thanks! ~ Jungwon.” You make sure all the doors are locked before leaving. You add his key to the list without a second thought.

----------------

Jungwon’s appointment was the only one scheduled for today. You still had another 30 minutes but he’d previously told you that you could begin a little earlier if you wanted to. He’s always been very considerate of your time. It’s one of the things you like about having him as a client. While none of your other clients have been cruel or disrespectful, they don’t treat you the way Jungwon does. But you’ve known since the beginning, he’s different. He’s a really nice guy. You hadn’t realized how much you’ve been talking about him lately until your friend asks you why you don’t have a boyfriend and why he doesn't have a girlfriend.

“That is… a legitimate question for me to consider. BUTJungwon is a client. His love life is absolutely none of our business,” you reply coolly, tightening the pink handkerchief around your hair.

“It’s been months since you’ve even talked to another guy. I bet Jungwon has never mentioned another woman to you, has he? You’re both clearly holding out for each other.” You give her a hard side eye as you sling your purse over your shoulder.

“WHAT?! I am just saying what he’s probably been thinking... Quit being a tease and fuck him already,” she says, plopping on to your couch.

“Oh my god. I AM NOT A TEASE. Sex is your answer for everything!” you yell, throwing a couch pillow at her. She laughs as it sails past her head. “See ya later psycho. I gotta go scrub a toilet for Jungwon’s affection.” you say, walking out the door.

----------------

You notice Jungwon’s car isn’t in the driveway as you pull up for your appointment. You go into his house and place your bag of cleaning supplies on the kitchen counter. He didn’t leave a note. So you assume he may have been in a rush or he’ll be back soon. Suddenly, you hear a noise. You stand perfectly still as if that would somehow enhance your hearing. You hear it again. It’s coming from down the hall. Your heartbeat speeds up as you start to panic. Oh god, is it an intruder? You grab a pan from the hanging rack. Slowly, you make your way down the hall. But as you get closer, you realize it’s moaning. More like soft whimpers. You finally reach Jungwon’s office door. It’s slightly cracked open. You can’t see him but you still keep listening. The sounds of him fiercely stroking himself are wet and intense. But nothing compared to the words coming out of his mouth– every other one being your name.

“So close. So close. Please please please. Just wanna make you feel good too.. uhhhh.” You feel your heart pounding but for a different reason now. Your friend was right. But you’re not sure what to do. You know this is an invasion of privacy. It’s his house. He can do what he wants in it. As you hear him catching his breath from his climax, you start to slowly back away. You bump into a vase, knocking it off the pedestal. It shatters. FUCK. You want to disappear. You want to run. But you can’t move. A few seconds pass and you realize you should at least try to clean up the vase before you leave his house.

Jungwon’s office door slowly opens and he walks out. His dark hair is clinging to his sweaty forehead and his ears are red but he looks you in the eyes. It’s a look you’ve never seen before– wide-eyed and needy. Yet he still looks so beautiful.

“Seems we’ve both made a mess,” he says quietly, giving a small smile. When he looks down at the pan in your hand, he stops in his tracks as if you might lash out at him. You forgot you were even holding it. But seeing his reaction to it makes you laugh. You laugh so hard, tears start to form. This has to be the craziest thing that’s ever happened to me. Jungwon is confused. He is not sure why you are laughing so his face begins to turn red.

“No. no. no.” You try to catch your breath. “Sorry. Please. Not laughing at that. You doing that.” you say. “It’s— I thought I heard a burglar. So…” you hold up the pan, still laughing. He starts laughing too. The rollercoaster of emotions makes you want to sit down to catch your breath. So you do, right in the middle of the hallway. Jungwon is surprised at your sudden move.

“Are you alright?” he kneels down, concerned.

“Yes,” you say nodding. “Wow.” You look at him. He’s still staring at you. You feel yourself getting hot under his gaze. You pull his face to yours and kiss him. He stumbles onto his knees as he leans into the kiss. He bites your lip and you moan. “You didn’t run,” he says before slipping his tongue into your mouth. “I thought about it,” you tease, kissing him back. You can feel his neediness in the way he kisses you. Not forceful but all consuming. He pulls back to stand up and offers you his hand to help you stand up. You try to avoid stepping in the dirt and broken shards of the vase. Jungwon picks you up, bridal style. “We can worry about that later. I need you now,” he says carrying you to his bedroom.

He gently places you on the bed and takes his shirt off before crawling over to you. Your core is throbbing. You hold up your hand to stop him. He looks confused. But you smile and begin to take off your shorts and panties, tossing them on the floor. You beckon him forward and his grin is devious. You can see his hardness through his sweatpants. You run your fingers through his hair as he kisses you, pressing his covered cock against your bare pussy. You moan as he begins to slowly grind against you. Jungwon is already panting and he hasn’t even begun to fuck you yet. Seeing you like this is almost too much for him. He knows he must slow down to really enjoy finally having you. He kisses your cheek and down your neck. He slides himself onto his stomach and puts his arms under your thighs so his face is inches from your dripping cunt. You suddenly feel shy having him look up at you as he licks your clit. You gasp as you cover your face with your hands.

“Please baby, put your hands in my hair. I want to see your face while I taste you.” FUCK. How could I say no to that? You do as he asks and he continues to lick and suck on your lips, placing one finger inside your tight hole. Gently rubbing your walls, causing your back to arch. You can feel the knot tightening as he adds another finger and whispers sweet praises against your tender clit.

“You’re so beautiful. I love the way you taste. Does it feel good, baby? Please. Fall apart on my fingers.” You look down at his lustful eyes, his face covered in your slick and you can’t help but cum all over his handsome face. Gripping his hair, your legs trembling as he moans almost as loud as you. He rubs your thighs as you ride out your high. Your head is spinning as he sits up. He peels off his sticky sweatpants. It’s the first time he’s ever cum untouched.

“See what you do to me.” He shows you his cum drenched briefs. “I can’t control myself when you’re around.” He tosses them on the floor as you take off your t-shirt and bra. Jungwon pulls you down underneath him and kisses your breast. His teeth gently nibble on your nipple, making you mewl and wiggle beneath him. He laughs and kisses you. He presses the tip of his cock against your entrance, waiting for you to give him the go ahead. You nod and he gently slides into you– your clenching, making his purr.

It wasn't until he whispered those words into your ear. “Mmm. Should’ve swapped my key sooner. I’ve always wanted you to be mine.” That's when you realize you’ve been set up. You walked right into his trap. Trembling beneath Jungwon as he fills you to the hilt, his arms wrapped around you– you couldn't escape if you wanted. But you don't want to. He says it again but this time, more to himself because he still can't believe his plan actually worked. “You're mine now.” He continues to whisper his little mantra as he slowly rolls his hips back and forth. His eyes darkening as stares into your eyes. “Mine. Mine.” You're breath is shaky. “Yours,” you reply.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

Note

Hey Raven! Hope you're doing well, and I hope you had a great holiday, if you celebrate, that is.

I hate to clutter your ask box with something like this, and you don’t have to answer, you can just read this with an open mind, but I feel you're the only one I could go to with this without being straight-up attacked. It's also why I'm asking anonymously.

But, what's your stance on the whole war between the JP and EN versions of the game? I'm not asking you to pick a side or anything, I just wanna know your thoughts.

Obviously, I'm an EN player, and idk if you seen, but there's some hateful things out there about us, and honestly, it's hurtful and disheartening to every time I get up here. And it's always on this we as players can't control. Mainly the dialog translations and it's changes.

I've seen people calling us dumb and weak, saying we water down everything because we can't take it, etc. I've seen people saying we don't know how to really correctly and analyze characters and that we're not even playing the same game. They say we've ruined the game, the fandom, and that they wished it was never localized. I've also seen quite horrible things, but I don’t wanna repeat the things said, but yeah.

And the kicker is, it's only the JP side I've seen post this stuff. I've seen more hate come from that side more than anything, and of course not all, like you. You're my fave btw.

So yeah, thoughts?

Hello, hello! ^^ I’m not really a super big celebration person but I’m hunkering down for a cozy hibernation this winter ❄️ I hope everyone had/will have a good 2023 holiday season~

Before I provide my response to the question posed in this ask, I want to make sure we're all on the same page for this discussion first:

Please be advised that my perspective is coming from that of someone who started off playing JP in March 2020 and then picked up EN when it came out in January 2022. I have played on both servers since their initial launches.

When I refer to TWST JP and EN fans in this post, I am only referring to the English speaking fans (as in, English speaking fans who play JP and English speaking fans who play EN).

For the sake of simplicity, I will be disregarding “hybrid” fans (English speaking fans who play both JP and EN) as a separate category and will lump them in with “JP” fans (English speaking fans who play JP). This is because I assume most mixed fans started off with JP and then adopted EN later on.

I am not talking about ALL English-speaking JP and/or EN fans here; I am only talking about the ones Anon described in their ask.

As the Anon said, I ask that you go into this post with an open mind; do not assume that I will bash JP and/or EN, take sides, defend or condone toxic attitudes, or that this post exists just to “stir the pot”. That is not the purpose of my response. The purpose is to have a meaningful and constructive discussion about TWST’s fandom culture, particularly as it pertains to English-speaking fans. I hope that in talking about this, we can better understand “the other side” (however you may personally define that) and work toward making the fandom space more welcoming for all.

Please read the entire post and think about your own choice of words before commenting and/or sending in an ask about this topic, should you choose to.

To the Anon that submitted this ask and to anyone else that plays EN and may have had similar thoughts: I’m sorry to hear about the negative experiences you’ve had in the TWST fandom. I hope that this post brings you some peace of mind, if not at least some catharsis for what you may be feeling.

Firstly, it’s important to understand the mindset of both JP and EN fans. As such, I will delve into the background and the development of each side. It is NOT meant to justify either side, but rather to inform you on how each perspective originated and grew to what it is today.

The animosity and opposition to an official English version of TWST has been present for a while. An English version of TWST has always been contentious, even long before the localization was announced. Some wanted it to happen for accessibility reasons (as some people find it tedious to hunt for translations) or were supportive of the idea because it means a larger fanbase and thus more potential to make friends or to discuss the game. Others were more apprehensive of the quality of a localization (as much tends to be cut or censored to make the content more palatable) and/or claimed that expanding the fanbase in such a way would bring in more “bad apples”.

When EN first came out, it did, in fact, expand the fanbase. However, many were quick to notice the many (and I do mean many) errors and short sightings present in it: frequent spelling and grammar mistakes in the game and on official social media posts, inconsistent phrasing, incorrect translations, game-breaking glitches, frequent censorship, half-hearted promotions, etc. EN also became infamous for its absolutely brutal pacing of content in the early days, particularly related to the limited story event schedules (including back-to-back Halloween events). This, in combination with EN’s constant pushing of paid gems (which occurs far more frequently than in the JP server) has left a bad taste in JP fans’ mouths. To them, TWST EN did not make a good first impression and continued to misstep again and again. This is especially true of the many dialogue changes to make the TWST localization more “culturally appropriate” (which is the definition of what a localization is; there is a reason why TWST is not called a translation, which would be a more accurate/“faithful” or direct translation of the dialogue).

The claim that “EN fans are weak/can’t handle the real story” likely arises from how EN has removed or altered details which may offend western audiences. This includes things like the term “master”, the mention of Azul’s weight, Kalim’s “30-40” siblings, etc. These are conscious decisions made on the part of the game localizers to make TWST more broadly appealing and appropriate for a western audience, where such topics are contentious or considered taboo. This is adapting TWST to a new culture so that it can (in a dry business sense) perform well. However, I also want to mention that some cultural changes EN made do significantly alter the story/characters (such as Jamil no longer stating his family will be on the streets if they defy the Asims; in EN he only says his parents will be bad at him), particularly if you are viewing through an EN-only lens. Unfortunately 😔 as much as I can point the nuances of localization out, there will always be fans who still oppose any sort of censorship. This is also true of the anime and manga community in general, and this post isn’t large enough in scope to tackle those issues. I only mention this here to help you, the reader, better understand the changes from Disney/Aniplex.

A lot of the original negative feelings that were there before EN was announced were then confirmed by the official release, and this strengthened the dislike of EN on the part of JP fans. These JP fans may then become hostile toward EN fans who defend the localization (whether or not they have the context of TWST JP) because, in the eyes of the JP fans, the localization is not as good as it could be. Ultimately, it seems like their intense feelings stem from passion for what they love and not wishing to see it “desecrated” rather than an actual hatred of fellow fans. JP fans are upset because they fear EN fans are not getting the full scope of the characters and a story they enjoy, and they want others to appreciate those aspects of TWST as well.

Of course 💦 the fact is that EN fans are not responsible for the localization. But EN is there and that is what is the easiest and the most time efficient for English-speaking audiences, so most people will go with that rather than alternatives (ie hunting down fan translations). The issue is that some JP fans conflate simply consuming the localization as being bad or the “wrong” thing to do, and thus, by proxy, extend this frustration to EN fans themselves (especially those those are EN only and have zero prior knowledge of JP) and not just the product. Again, this is because they tend to see JP as the “full” version, without the changes or censorship present in EN. This inevitably leads to discrepancies in understanding between JP and EN, whether due to staggered release of new content or how the characters are presented differently between the two servers. To those who say “the versions are basically the same except for minor changes”, I disagree. There are several dialogue changes that appear small in isolation, but because TWST’s narrative is told primarily via dialogue, those “small” changes are actually very large and can drastically modify how one perceives a character or situation without explicit knowledge of JP to balance it out. When Jamil is made an “employee” rather than a “servant” and worries about his parents being mad at him instead of his entire family literally being on the streets for defying the Asims, it takes away the bite from his motivations. When Cater inserts a #WOW that wasn’t there in JP while Riddle is breaking down sobbing, or makes him come off as far more insensitive than emotionally aware. These are just a few examples, but they are very prominent ones that can change how an EN only fan sees things. The idea that “we aren’t even playing the same game” can ring true to some JP players because of this.

It cannot be helped that EN fans would interpret the characters and stories differently when the localization is their only or primary source of TWST content. Not everyone has the time or the desire to look for more accurate fan translations (not all fan translations are the same quality), as some JP fans have suggested. If EN fans want to, that’s great! It’s nice to expand one’s knowledge and to be cognizant of the changes between the versions. There are many blogs out there dedicated to educating people on these matters, and many EN and JP fans alike flocking there to be informed. But that level of engagement shouldn’t be demanded of anyone. To deem those that don’t engage in “further research” as “lazy”, “dumb”, or a “fake fan” is not acceptable, not in the name of love or otherwise. The expectation to “do homework” only puts pressure on EN fans to be a certain way or else be rejected by the fandom, and that only breeds more hatred and negativity. It makes EN fans feel “not worthy” of being a fan unless they study up, when the truth of the matter is that no matter how much we like TWST, it’s… media at the end of the day. People are free to consume their choice of media however they like, and that includes casually or at their own pace. It’s not fun to be in a fandom where others are breathing down your neck and policing everything you do, especially since these spaces are meant to be a temporary escape from reality. If JP fans meant to gatekeep in an effort to make others recognize the “real” greatness of TWST, then it’s failing because this kind of attitude only serves to drive new fans away.

Among EN fans, there is this idea that “JP fans are stuck-up”. I can understand where this thinking comes from, as I have witnessed hatred for EN myself which comes unprompted and has killed many conversations. Admittedly, some points are geared toward the company themselves (and those are valid), such as rushed and/or inaccurate translations or the pushing of paid gems, but I’ve also seen my fair share of nastier, invalid comments directed at EN fans. There are JP fans who actively hope that EN will shut down or who outright dismiss EN fans because of the version they play, thinking of their thoughts and opinions as “lesser” or doubting their media literacy skills. It’s true that this behavior is out there in the fandom, and that is unfortunately a sad reality.

That being said, JP on EN hate is not the only form I see, and nor is it the majority. It goes both ways (and I would say about equally for all, although this is just based on anecdotes and not objective data). There is plenty of JP on JP hate (particularly when someone spreads mistranslations around as though it were the truth) and EN on EN hate (arguments over what is and is not appropriate to ship, differences in headcanons, harassing fans that fall outside an “acceptable” age range, etc). There is also EN on JP hate which feeds into a dangerous back-and-forth with JP on EN hate. I briefly mentioned before that EN fans tend to believe JP fans are elitist, and this leads to assumptions being made about anyone that critiques EN and sometimes lashing out about it. I myself have previously been accused of “hating” EN because I often make posts commenting on the changes made between EN and JP (which ones I think work and which I think don’t). This preemptively defensive behavior drives another wedge between JP and EN fans, making JP fans reluctant to engage with EN fans, which then fuels the belief that JP fans think they’re “better” than EN fans (when really, some JP fans may be intentionally distancing themselves for their own wellbeing). Additionally, a lot of behavior deemed more acceptable in western oriented fandom spaces (such as moral justifications, taking pictures without crediting, callouts of other fans, and incorrect use of fandom tags) are not so for JP spaces (or those familiar with JP spaces). There have also been times when EN fans harass the actual Japanese-speaking side of the fandom (be it Japanese fans or the devs themselves) and demand (not ask, but demand) content that caters to them or free translations of fan comics they make. When EN fans fail to observe such “basic fandom etiquette”, it leads to JP fans thinking them rude or entitled, which makes JP fans reluctant to interact with EN fans and, again, feeds into confirmation bias. It’s a viscous system.

What is “ruining” the fandom is not just one side. There has always been turmoil present in fandom spaces. It just appears more visible now that TWST’s popularity has grown to this degree. Right now, both sides (JP and EN) are antagonizing each other because of a loud minority that’s attacking the other side. That minority then gets extrapolated and assumed to be behavior of the entirety of the other side, and that is what keeps the hate going.

If I’m being entirely honest 😔 I don’t think these tensions will realistically ever die out; the fandom is too large to “stomp out” what has already been established in its culture. When both sides are fueled by something so strong—a passion for TWST—it’s hard to seek out and/or to consider alternative perspectives. We become fixated on their own negative experiences and fail to think about where the “others” maybe be coming from, and then close ourselves off from discussion. That promotes isolation and contempt rather than friendliness and cooperation.

If we want change, then it starts at an individual level and in smaller TWST communities. We shouldn’t assume the worst of “JP” or “EN” fans; we are all TWST fans. Let’s keep open-minded and welcome other fans and their diverse schools of thought. And if you don’t feel comfortable with that, that’s also fine! You’re allow to keep a distance and curate your online space as you like; just please don’t go out of your way to disparage others, you have your own lane and others have theirs. Don’t encroach on other lanes.

Maybe we don’t necessarily agree with each other or we think may hold different opinions—but that’s good, isn’t it? The freedom of thought and the open exchange of ideas promotes flexible thinking and can lead you to see things from a new angle, or perhaps develop a new idea of your own. If we all thought the same way, then life becomes boring or it can cultivate an “us versus them” narrative that sparks online wars.

Let me put it this way to close off the post: isn’t this the message that Twisted Wonderland itself is trying to teach us? The true value of attending Night Raven College isn’t just about receiving a good education. Countless times it has been stressed to us (and often by Lilia, the oldest and wisest of the core cast, someone who used to be resistant to opening up to outsiders) that it is vital to understand other people in spite of how different we may be. Let’s take a page out of the students’ book and try to live up to that ^^

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst en #twisted wonderland en #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #advice #Azul Ashengrotto #Riddle Rosehearts #Cater Diamond #Scarabia #Kalim Al-Asim #Jamil Viper #Lilia Vanrouge

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writtenbysprout · 1 year

Text

Secrets we share

synopsis: The team is pestering you about your love life. Little do they know that your boyfriend is sleeping not too far away.

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

cw: angst (insecurities), fluff

wordcount: 1446

"How's the mystery loverboy?" Derek leans in over the table separating you, inching closer as if it'd help drawing the information you'd withheld for so long out.

"Or girl," Emily shoots in. Taking a seat just in time for the interrogation you could feel coming. It was only a matter of time before they started pestering you with questions about your love life. It surprised you they hadn’t done so sooner. You were thankful they hadn't though.

"You know I like my privacy, Derek.." Your averted your gaze from the book you rested in your lap. Meeting his eyes you could tell he wouldn't back down, not today. Having Reid fast asleep and being afraid of Emily's wrath he was only left with picking on you.

"Come on, you've been glowing lately. Something big must've happened."

"I mean besides my partner being themselves and being one of my happiest places, than no. Nothing major has really happened."

You avert your gaze, searching the jet for someone to help you, but find your eyes land on Aaron as he's seated alone next to the window, fast asleep. Emily notices your gaze and you notice her frame sink at the sight.

"He must be really tired. He rarely sleeps on the jet." she mutters.

"I think the case was heavy on him. Especially with the unsub targeting boys Jacks age.." you voice, knowing all to well it really had him worried about his son.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, it’s Hotch we’re talking about. The man is literally made out of something unbreakable." Derek says, trying to preserve the image of Aaron being this superhero without fear or pain.

Little did they know of the times you’d held Aaron in your arms as he sobbed his heart out. Feeling incapable, a coward or not enough. Yet you always reminded him of just how incredible he was. Helping him weather any storm.

All you did was hum in response, before making a attempt to get back too your book. Derek snatched it out of your hand, marking the page and putting it next to him out of your reach.

“Nah-ah, we’re not done,”

“What more would you like me to say?”

“Anything! I don’t know anything about your loverboy."

"Or girl. "

"or girl." Derek repeats, desperate now.

Glancing down at your hands you decide that some details wouldn’t be too bad to share. They knew not to ask you any revealing questions and frankly you thought they enjoyed the hunt of your mysterious lover.

"Fine.." you sigh. Derek and Emily leans in, eyes widening, holding their breath to what you're saying next. “You have three questions, be creative.”

“How did you meet?” Derek fires off almost before you've finished your sentence. Emily elbows him whispering something about thinking thoroughly through the questions before asking.

“They actually noticed me in the pouring rain, offering me a ride home. I knew them from before and got in. Upon hearing my stomach growling they offered to stop by some takeout place. We ended up getting some incredible thai and when we got to my place, we just found out that it'd be nice to continue the conversation so they joined me inside."

The story wasn't that far off.. from your first date. He had noticed you in the rain and more like ordered you into the car, not wanting his agent to contract a cold.

"What are they like?" Emily asks. Clearly forgetting the importance of thinking through the question before asking. She seemed more invested in your overall feeling towards this mystery person, whereas Derek was tormented in not knowing who this individual was.

"Honestly the best. I can’t imagine someone so headstrong and independent, yet filled with so much love and care for the ones around them."

“So they work with people, interesting." Derek smirks, as if he'd been let in on a secret. "Are you taking notes Emily?”

You can’t help but smile at the two idiots in front of you as they scurry amongst themselves to find something to write on. It doesn't take long before they do and Emily speaks up, asking the third and final question. "What's your favourite thing about them?"

"It's impossible to not love everything about them, form the small things they do when nervous or stressed to the bigger things like how they always seem to know me better than myself. They're just amazing in every possible way. But if I have to chose something it'd be.. how I feel so safe with them, t's like nothing in the world could ever harm me y'know. Which is rare in this line of work. having seen all the horrible stuff people are capable off." you can't help but smile as you're reminded of Aarons kind and gentle nature. Sure he seems strict and stuck up at work, but behind closed doors, he is the embodiment of love. Look up the words romance and love in the dictionary and you'll find a picture of him there. He had singlehandedly proven to you that romance was not dead. "That and the way they just radiate love. At least to me. I feel seen, and heard and wanted. And honestly I can't imagine my life without them."

You reach out your hand and Derek obediently gives you your book back a sigh of defeat leaving him as he does.

"You don't make this easy on me, hot stuff."

"That's be boring wouldn't it?" You tease as you return to where you left off in your book.

Derek finds one of his sports podcasts and leans back. Emily's gaze drifts out the window. No matter how hard you try, you can't seem to focus on the book anymore. You inch closer to Emily, lowering your voice so no one but she can hear.

"I think I love them, Em."

"Worse things have happened. You've been dating for what, 9 months?"

"Closer to a year actually."

"Then it's natural."

"I just.. I've never felt this strongly about someone."

Emily glances over at JJ's sleeping figure, with a longing smile. The yearning in her eyes present.

"Then don't wait, tell him.. before it's too late."

× × ×

Once off the jet you head home, take a shower and get into some of your comfiest clothes. It doesn’t surprise you when someone knocks on your door. Knowing all to well that Aaron would come over. You find him on your step with takeaway, flowers and a smile.

The two of you finished eating and put the boxes aside, ready to finally spend some alone time together. He falls back into the sofa, eyes lingering on you as he does.

He opens his arms, inviting you to cuddle up close to him. You reach for the remote, glancing back at him.

"TV or no?"

"just wanna savor this time with you."

You crawl into his arms, snuggling close. Yet you notice something's off right away. Sure he always likes to cuddle close, but now it's like he can't get close enough. Not that it bothered you. It let you know that something was off, maybe something was troubling him.

“Aaron, my love.." You look up, placing your hand on his cheek. "What’s on your mind, darling?”

“I.. heard what you said on the jet.." he keeps his gaze away from you afraid of your reaction, "I didn’t mean to listen in, I just couldn’t sleep and.. Do you really think so highly of me?”

He finally looks up and finds you. His eyes now conflicted as they dart from your left to your right. You seat yourself so you're fully facing him, saddened by his low thoughts of himself.

“Of course I do. Why would I just say something like that if I didn't mean it?”

“But I don’t.."

“Nah-ah, no talking down on ourselves mister.”

You crawl up, onto his lap, seating yourself so that you're facing him. Then you let your hands take a hold of his face, lifting it so he's looking directly at you. His arms snakes themselves around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. Looking down at you now only see admiration and love in his eyes.

“I love you, Aaron.” You can’t stop the words before the tumble out. But you don't care. It's what you feel and have felt for a long time. "you don't have to say it back.. 's just.."

He leans up, shutting you up with his lips. You melt into the kiss, becoming reminiscent of a puddle in his arms as it fills you with the nice warmth like it always does.

"I love you too, darling."

#aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 9 months

Text

You're waiting for a train...(4)

Painted Windmills

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Eames and Y/n embark on their intel operation and Eames only has one rule for Y/n; do not be seen.

word count - 2.4k

warnings - hospitals, blood (so minor tho), sadness

a/n - finally we have them meeting!!! Also I know some people may disagree with Eames' reactions in this but remember he is thinking about how this job is important for Cobb and Y/n.

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Eames led me in with his hand on my back in faux professionalism but with genuine care. We had dressed up all nice and proper for our first day. The thick black dress hugged my curves in a way I was not used to, and revealed my legs way more than I could stand. It felt constricting compared with the jeans (which I’d had for years) and baggy shirts I usually wore on jobs. I fixed my newly acquired fake glasses and my disguise was complete.

We walked up the stone steps to the house that loomed like my private gallows. Why was I so nervous? Eames was right next to me, and this was hardly the first intel operation I’d done with him.

I wobbled about in my precarious heels and my ankles practically gave out when I reached the fourth step. My embarrassment was saved by Eames’ quick grasp of my elbow, righting me lest I draw attention to our entrance.

Our fancy dress shoes clinked in synchronisation and stopped to face each other before we breached the fateful doors. One last debrief.

“What are we here to do?” Eames prepped me.

“Gather as much information about the father-son relationship and see what we can use to our advantage. And you’re going to be studying Browning to mimic his movement, mannerisms, and speech.” I completed with pride.

“Very good baby Cobb.”

“Hey! I vetoed that nickname!”

“The most important thing is don’t be seen.” I raised my eyebrow at his ridiculous request. “You know what I mean, don’t draw attention to yourself. And whatever you do, don’t talk to Fischer.”

I laughed at how serious he looked holding my gaze. I tried to leave to go in, thinking the conversation was done. But I was held in place by his hand on my arm.

“Don’t talk to Robert.” He tilted his head, and I felt the meaning of his words. He’d seen me with the picture. I shucked his hand off my arm and left abruptly.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I seethed.

He met the quick pace I had formed so he didn’t see the distress I felt at his distrust. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, he thought he needed to manage me. Take care of me. Like I was a child.

We both arrived at the top of a dark oak staircase that exuded the feel of wealth and prosperity. The house was so quiet that my heels were like a gunshot in a library. I began to tilt my head up to look at the expanse of the house in wonder. It seemed it had more shadows than glimmers of light. The house choked on its own emptiness.

“Mr and Mrs Trent?” A perky blonde approached us as we walked around the first floor aimlessly.

I panicked at her assumption. “No, no, no, no. We are not a couple—not even--. Miss James.” I shoved out my hand hoping she and I would both forget my stuttering. Great first impression.

She reluctantly met my hand. “Okay, I see well if you both come this way, we can get you started. There is quite a lot to do due to Mr Fischer’s declining health. You will both be responsible for sorting through the different files; making sure, if an account is prepared, it is filed away, and if it’s not, it is highlighted to be looked at.” Eames’ and I’s mouths ached from the smiles we were forcing towards Little Miss Big Boobs.

But we both righted our faces to make it seem like we were focused on the 'challenging' task rather than admitting this kind of work was trivial compared to our own jobs. We placed our bags down, took the exaggerated lapel badges handed to us, and began to quickly complete our task. We had previously discussed that we would complete the task first, not wanting to have hindered the Fischer empire any more than we were already going to, then go about our snooping.

I opened my first file, quickly read it, then assigned it it’s place. I’d always had a mind that worked faster than most. Arthur used to joke that my projections run rather than walk. This meant general schoolwork had seemed mundane to me when I was a child. Kids can be cruel to the kid who always finishes first. No one likes a show off.

After I had read my 10th file in less than 5 minutes, I noticed Eames was gesturing and mouthing something towards me.

‘SLOW DOWN’ Ah I forgot. Don’t draw attention to yourself.

My job here wasn’t exactly defined, by Fischer or Eames.

Eames trailed Browning like a shadow, subtly mimicking every move in a sort of dress rehearsal. I tracked him with my gaze, in awe at his skill. Partially because his skill was slick enough to pass between everyone’s tired eyes.

All at once, a commotion began around my section. Some balshy intern had decided to push Browning for an answer on question he didn’t want to hear. He went on to sarcastically suggest that the intern should bring the question to Maurice himself. He strutted away and drove open the large double doors that blanketed the room. When the oak parted I found myself moving away from my corner to peek into the scene revealed.

Maurice Fischer lay on his hospital bed surrounded by equipment which stood in contrast to the dark interior that sat around them. Browning walked through and instead of approaching Fischer senior; he made his way to the window where a man stood. His back was to me, but his figure was distinguished. My feet edged me forward a little more.

“Argghh” Maurice flailed out his arms. In his frenzy, he had knocked down a picture from his bedside. The man turned at the noise and it was there I saw the face I had longed to see. Robert Fischer.

He moved to pick up the picture with a sort of meekness. And as he looked up to his father there was a sense of shame there. As if he was once again the height of a young boy. He rose, broken picture scarring his hand. I see Browning and Fischer exchange words. I inch forward more so that my frame centres in the doorway. Suddenly…

“Mr Browning, I have some—” CRASH.

The balshy intern from before slams into my shoulder and knocks me onto the floor. Papers fly everywhere and I audibly wince when my knees come in contact with the hardwood floor. Shit.

I compose myself, trying not to consider how obvious I just made myself. As I slide my pages back together, 2 more hands join my own. I stop in my tracks, registering the person before me. I reluctantly look up and fall into a pool of blue.

“Are you okay?” I sharply intake.

He studies my face as I fail to speak. When I see him poised for an answer, my brain snaps back.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

“I put it there.” My finger drags down the cracked memory. “He didn’t even notice.”

My thoughts are overtaken when a loud crash reverberates throughout the room. My head snaps up, annoyed at the offending noise, but when I look up, I am overcome. I see a girl on the floor struggling to clean up her mess. I rush to her aid, glaring at the man who had knocked her down. As I passed him, I gently stated,

“You’re fired.” He goes to argue but retreats back into the office.

I kneel in front of her rushed attempt at clearing up and chuckle at how she had just seemed to make more mess in her haste.

“Are you okay?” She met my eyes and my breath caught as I fully took her in. She was beautiful.

Minute long seconds passed of us just gazing. I could have stayed there a lifetime if she let me.

“Yes, I am fine. I am so sorry about the mess; I’ll clean it up and I’d understand if you want me to leave.” I stopped her rambling by clasping her hand in mine. I then picked strands of her hair to place behind her ears to reveal more of the face she was trying to hide. Her spew of words was like music to me and what interested me even more were her little laughs between thoughts, as if apologetic for what she said.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

My sputtering was pathetic, but I was rendered speechless when he held my hand. I quickly retracted the offending limb to push up my glasses as if they could save me now. My thoughts were equally filled with his words but also my warnings. I had to leave and tell Eames the mistake I’d made so we could rectify it.

Together we had collected the papers into a transportable pile, and I stood up. But I braved it too quickly and found myself stumbling in my heels once again. Robert hadn’t let go of me even as I stood up, making sure I was okay. My leg which had gone numb from my position on the floor gave out and pushed me into Robert’s awaiting arms.

I let myself sink further into the perfect feeling of being in his warmth. He felt like a warm beach in the afternoon sun. But I quickly remembered my place. I jumped back in fright.

“You’re bleeding!” Robert exclaimed. As I stumbled back, he had noticed drops of blood adorning my newly scraped knee.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I tried to placate his worry as I began to make my way to the exit.

“No, come, I’ll clean it up.” He grasped my hand and led me through his father’s room despite my protests.

“Mr Fischer, please, you are far too busy. I can sort it myself.” We had made it through another door that led into a room which was so uniquely childlike.

“Please, I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave.” He smirked at me and led me to sit down on the window seat. He went to a drawer for plasters and then another for disinfectant. He moved about the room with assuredness. He returned and lifted my leg so that it rested over his knees. I tugged down the end of my short-ish dress. He opened the disinfectant and dabbed it with cotton wool. As he went about this, I took in the room around me.

It felt busy but not cluttered. In the middle of the back wall sat a single bed with light blue cotton sheets. The sheets were decorated with multi-coloured windmills. The white bedside tables held many trinkets of a young boy. The chest of drawers was home to more pictures and framed memories. My head lifted higher, and I saw the sky painted blue and it held wooden planes that flew around the room with a freedom I believe the owner wished he had.

“This is your room, isn’t it.” I whispered.

He didn’t look up from my scar. “Yes.” He chuckled. “Not that I stay in it.”

We both laughed. “I could see you still squeezing into that.” I pointed to the neatly made bed.

“I have thought about it.” He remarked.

I braved my next words. “Or maybe you just want to sleep in a simpler time.” Our eyes met again.

I noticed a familiar picture which sat on the chest. And I realised it was the same one that rested on the window seat between us, covered by Robert’s jacket.

“Is that you and your dad?” I mentally smacked myself for such a stupid question.

“Yeah.” He spoke.

“How old are you here?” I picked up the delicate frame. I smiled at the picture of a young Robert blowing on a handmade windmill, sat in his father’s lap. I could feel the love radiating from this image. It now seemed so different to the coldness one felt in this house.

“10. The nurse said he may respond to being surrounded by happy memories. That was the happiest day of my life.” He placed his arms around me to join mine on the frame. “I just didn’t think that it might not be one for him.” As I turned to face him, I realised how close we were. One gentle slip and our lips would touch. Each exhale was felt on the others face. “There’s something. Have we met before?”

What was I doing?!

I retreated back, freeing myself from his arms. I had to leave. Find Eames and get out of here.

“I am so sorry, but I have to go—I just—I--.” I barely even finished a sentence as I ran out, back to the office. I threw my hair in front of my face as if that would help me now. Eames, Eames, EAMES!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

I ran back to catch her before she left. I was unsuccessful so I asked Browning. She’d left so quickly I’d never even gotten her name. But I knew I needed it.

“That intern, what’s her name?” I asked my godfather.

“I don’t know, why? Where did you just go off to?” He responded.

“I’ve had to be numb to a lot in my life, but just then I felt something.” I would see that girl again if it’s the last thing I do. "Something real."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

Eames and I were safely in our rental car, driving back to the warehouse. Eames seemed pleased at his progress and thankfully hadn’t noticed my absence.

“I have Browning down to a T and I think he is going to be the key. If we can somehow get Robert’s own projection of Browning to—” As he prattled on, I struggled to quieten my breathing after my speedy getaway. All I could do was watch the world pass by my window, willing my mind to forget everything that just happened. How Cinderella of me.

“You, okay?” Eames looked over to me concerned.

“Yeah. I think the bad relationship with the father is the way in. Everything about that dynamic is so…broken.” I softly spoke.

“Nice. I like a good gap to sneak through.” I rolled my eyes at his childishness but also couldn’t help but laugh.

“He saw me.” I admitted.

The car came to a grinding halt. I sat cowering hearing Eames’ heavy sighs. “I’m sorry.” I managed to stumble out through my choked throat. Eames’ head hung low in his hands.

“Why?” he huffed out.

“I didn’t really have much control over it!” I argued back. This wasn’t a complete lie, in more ways than one. It had to happen. “Please don’t tell my dad, I can’t have him thinking I blew this whole case. Because I didn’t okay, because it’s fixable! You know that! Please you can help me fix it!” I was now begging Eames by scrambling at his coat to force him to look into my apologetic eyes.

“I thought you were better than that.” He spat.

“So did I.” I slumped back in my seat. A minute of silence passed. We both just stewed in it.

“I won’t tell your dad.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding on to. “But-“ I gave him my entire focus. “You mustn’t get distracted. Promise?” He held his pinkie out to me. I giggled remembering fondly.

“I promise.” I finished, linking my pinkie with his and then we both kissed our thumbs together whilst making a corresponding sound.

We drove off once more. Eames satisfied in the promise he’d made me make. I was terrified that I would break it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

a/n - they've finally met!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer

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f3mme-f4tale · 2 months

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☾ bound by bloodshed ☾

part two

⇠ part one - part three ⇢ word count: 2.6k potential warnings: explicit language, mentions of blood pairing: seattle!ellie x female reader ☾ mood board authors note: shorter chapter this time around, next one is gonna be at least 5k and will include smut, so buckle up :3

important information regarding palestine

It's three days later when Maria begrudgingly finally gives the go ahead for you and Ellie to track down the group. It’s dawn when Ellie re-enters Joel’s house, feeling the tension crackling in the air between them, a silent storm brewing beneath the surface.

Joel looks up as Ellie approaches, his gaze meeting hers with a mixture of concern and frustration. "You sure about this, Ellie?" he asks, his voice gruff with worry. "Heading out on some wild goose chase into enemy territory?" Ellie bristles at his words, her frustration boiling over as she meets his gaze head-on.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she retorts, her tone sharp with defiance. "I'm not gonna sit around and wait for trouble to come knocking on our door. We need to take the fight to them." Joel shakes his head, his expression pained as he reaches out to grasp Ellie's arm, his touch gentle yet firm.

"You're being reckless, Ellie," he insists, his voice low and urgent. "You don't know what you're up against out there. You could get yourself killed." Ellie jerks her arm away, her anger flashing in her eyes as she squares her shoulders, refusing to back down.

"I can handle myself, Joel," she snaps, her voice trembling with frustration. "I'm not some helpless kid anymore. I know what I'm doing. You don’t get to make this decision, not after what happened with the fireflies." Joel's jaw tightens, his own frustration evident as he stands up from the table, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as Ellie hits a nerve.

"You think this is about you proving something?" he demands, his voice rising with emotion. "This isn't a game, Ellie. People's lives are at stake here, including yours." Ellie meets Joel's gaze, her eyes blazing with defiance even as her resolve wavers.

"I know that," she replies, her voice softer now, tinged with uncertainty. "But I can't just sit back and do nothing. I have to try." Joel's expression softens, his frustration giving way to concern as he reaches out to cup Ellie's cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"I know, kiddo," he murmurs, his voice filled with a fatherly tenderness that catches her off guard. Ellie hesitates, torn between her desire for independence and her need for Joel's guidance and support. She knows he's only trying to protect her, but the thought of backing down now fills her with a sense of defeat she can't bear.

"I can't just walk away from this, Joel," she whispers, her voice breaking with emotion. "I have to try." Joel sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping in resignation as he pulls Ellie into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her with a strength that belies his vulnerability.

"I know, kiddo," he reiterates against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I know."

As the silence stretches on, Ellie finds herself lost in her own thoughts, the weight of Joel's trust heavy on her shoulders. She wants to shake off the feeling of resentment that had bubbled up inside her, but it lingers, gnawing at her conscience. Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Ellie breaks from the hug.

"I'm gonna go check on my gear," she mumbles, her voice strained as she avoids Joel's gaze. He nods silently in response, his expression unreadable as he watches her retreat from the room.

Alone in the hallway, Ellie leans against the wall, her heart pounding in her chest as she tries to shake off the lingering frustration. She knows Joel means well, knows he's only looking out for her, but sometimes it feels like he's holding her back, like he doesn't trust her to make her own decisions.

With a frustrated sigh, Ellie pushes herself off the wall and exits through the back door, determined to focus on the task at hand. She rifles through her belongings, double-checking her supplies and ensuring everything is in order for the journey ahead.

But no matter how hard she tries to push the feeling aside, the tension between her and Joel still hangs in the air, a silent reminder of the rift that seems to grow wider with each passing day. It's not just about finding supplies or confronting their enemies—it's about proving to herself that she's capable, that she can handle whatever challenges come her way.

⭒⭒⭒⭒

As Ellie adjusts the bridle on Shimmer’s face, you double check the supplies in your bag. A stablehand passes Ellie a bag to attach to the saddle that holds supplements and extra supplies. As you count the number of bullets and canned food in your possession, you watch as Ellie skillfully tacks Shimmer. You knew how to ride, but you had to admit that Ellie was far better.

Despite feeling a twinge of envy at Ellie's expertise, you remind yourself that everyone has their strengths, and yours lies in other areas. "Ready to go?" Ellie asks, flashing you a grin as she swings her bag over her shoulder. You nod, following suit as Ellie leads the horse out of the barn. Joel is waiting at the gate with Tommy, the older man sighing as Ellie refuses to look him in the eyes.

“Y’all be careful out there, yeah?” Tommy lectures, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You offer him a small smile and nod again.

“No Jesse or Dina?” Joel questions, eyebrows furrowing. You glance over at Ellie and see her bite down on her tongue to keep from lashing out at the man.

“No,” you reply, sighing. “They’re needed on patrols, since we’ll be gone and Eugene retired.” Joel doesn’t seem pleased with the answer, but doesn’t add anything and moves aside to let you both through.

“Be safe out there kiddo,” he says, his face searching for any source of response from Ellie. She hands you Shimmer, turning around to give Joel a bone-crushing hug. He melts into it, placing his head on top of hers. She doesn’t say anything as she pulls away, moving to mount the horse. She offers you a hand as you hop up behind her, arms instinctively wrapping around her waist, to which Ellie can feel a blush creeping in.

With a gentle nudge of your heels, Shimmer begins to move forward, her hooves crunching on the gravel pathway leading out of Jackson. You steal a glance at Ellie, noticing the stress in her brow as she guides the horse forward.

The weight of Joel's unspoken concern lingers in your mind, and you can't help but wonder what's really going on between him and Ellie. But now isn't the time for probing questions or confrontations. You're on a mission, and your focus needs to be on the task at hand.

The rhythm of Shimmer's gait beneath you soothes your nerves, and you find yourself falling into an uncomfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts. The landscape around you gradually shifts from the familiar surroundings of Jackson into the rugged terrain beyond its borders. Tall trees loom overhead, casting dappled shadows across the forest floor as you navigate the winding paths.

But just as you start to relax into the journey, a distant sound breaks the quiet tranquility of the morning—a low, guttural growl that sends a shiver down your spine. Ellie tenses beside you, her grip on the reins tightening as she scans the surrounding woods with a wary gaze.

"Infected," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as she urges Shimmer to move faster. Your heart pounds in your chest as you peer into the dense underbrush, straining to catch any movement amidst the trees.

And then, they emerge—a horde of infected, their twisted forms lurching forward with a frenzied hunger in their eyes. Panic surges through you as you realize you're completely outnumbered, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

Ellie's jaw sets in determination as she steers Shimmer off the main path, veering into the thick undergrowth in a desperate bid to escape the oncoming horde. Branches scrape against your arms as you duck low to avoid detection, the thudding footsteps of the infected echoing ominously behind you.

As the horde draws closer, Ellie's quick thinking guides Shimmer through a narrow gap between the trees, narrowly avoiding the grasp of the infected reaching out for you. The foliage tears at your clothes as you push through, adrenaline surging through your veins. With each passing moment, the sounds of pursuit grow fainter, indicating that you might have outpaced the infected, at least for now. Ellie slows Shimmer to a halt, dismounting and allowing both of you to catch your breath and assess the situation.

"That was too close," you mutter, wiping your clammy palms against your jeans as you scan the surroundings for any signs of danger. Ellie nods in agreement, her expression grim as she surveys the area.

"We need to keep moving," she says, her voice firm with resolve. "We can't risk getting caught out here again."

"Well, I guess you could say that was an unexpected twist," you remark, a playful glint in your eye as you steal a glance at Ellie.

She grins, her smile infectious as she meets your gaze. "Just another thrilling adventure with you," she replies, her tone teasing.

You chuckle, feeling a warmth spreading through you at the sight of her smile. "Hey, what can I say? I aim to keep things interesting," you quip, nudging her gently with your elbow.

Ellie laughs, the sound like music to your ears as she leans in closer. "Well, you certainly succeeded," she says, her voice soft but playful.

You find yourself drawn to her energy, unable to resist the urge to flirt back. "Glad to hear it. I wouldn't want you getting bored on our little escapades," you tease, a smirk playing on your lips.

Ellie's eyes sparkle with amusement as she leans in even closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Trust me, with you around, I don't think boredom will ever be an issue," she whispers, a hint of mischief in her voice.

You feel a rush of warmth at her words, the air between you charged with a newfound energy. "Well then, I guess we'll just have to keep each other entertained," you reply, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. And with an arm outstretched, you help her up into the saddle.

Silence falls between you again, this time a welcome presence. You have to physically resist the urge to rest your forehead against her shoulder – because friends don’t do that. Instead, you opt to analyze the fern inked on her forearm, the way her fingers hold the leather reins. Her skin is pale, covered in dainty freckles that dance across her surprisingly toned arms. You pull your lips between your teeth, shaking away words that threaten to spill out of your mouth.

Ellie slows Shimmer down to a walk upon reaching a small, seemingly torn apart town. As her hooves echo against the weed-infested pavement, you take in your surroundings. The sight of a tree growing out of the roof of a building catches your attention, its branches reaching skyward as if in defiance of the decay surrounding it. The windows of the buildings along the street are boarded up or covered in newspapers. A police car is resting upside down, becoming a home for a band of squirrels.

Despite the desolation of the town, you can't shake the feeling of being watched, as if unseen eyes are tracking your every move from the shadows. You’re sure that if you go looking, there’s bound to be infected looming somewhere. So when Ellie suggests stopping for supplies, you hesitantly agree.

Ellie pulls Shimmer to a halt, her gaze fixed on a nearby storefront. "There," she says, her voice barely above a whisper as she points to a dusty sign hanging above the entrance. "Looks like a general store. Might have something useful inside."

You falter slightly, your instincts screaming at you to turn and run, to leave this forsaken place behind and never look back. But you know that's not an option. With a heavy sigh, you dismount, your steps cautious as you approach the storefront. The door creaks open with a protest, revealing a dim interior filled with dilapidated shelves.

Ellie wastes no time in searching the aisles, her movements quick and efficient as she gathers the sparse supplies into her pack. You follow suit, your eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement as you work to collect what you can.

But just as you start to relax into the task, a low cry echoes through the silence, freezing you in place. The noise is coming from the back room, sending you into a crouch. It has to be a runner, otherwise the door opening would have alerted the creature.

This is a routine kill, you think to yourself. No use in alerting or worrying Ellie. With a steady hand, you open the door to the office. And there, huddled in the corner, you see it; a lone infected, its twisted form writhing in pain as it claws at its own flesh. It’s mumbling incoherent words, a cruel sob racking its body.

A piece of shattered glass finds its way to your dominant hand as you slowly approach the infected. In one swift movement, your hand is brought to its neck and drags the glass across its jugular. The runner lets out a sharp, shrieking cry as the glass slices into its skin, blood oozing onto your hands. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breathing.

After a moment, you’re brought back to reality and quickly scavenge the few stray bullets on the floor and a roll of duct tape on the desk. “Ellie?” You shout, after hearing something loud drop in the store a few aisles away. The silence and stillness of the building fills you with dread, and you search for her with mounting anxiety. Suddenly, you hear the sound of a body hitting the ground in the distance, followed by a soft gasp of breath.

And then, you see her—a flash of red hair amidst the chaos, her form hunched over as she fends off another runner with a ferocity that takes your breath away. Where did it come from? But before you can reach her, you hear a cry of pain, and your heart stops.

"Ellie!" you shout again, rushing to her side as she collapses to the ground, clutching her arm in agony. Blood seeps through her fingers, staining the fabric of her shirt as she grits her teeth against the pain. You kneel beside her, your hands trembling as you assess the wound. It's deep—a nasty gash along her forearm, pink supple skin exposed to the elements.

“Have you always had such pretty eyes?” She whispers, staring up at you despite the blood flowing down her arm. You’re taken aback by the statement, eyeing her carefully and raising your eyebrows.

“You’re a loser,” you quip back, rolling your eyes.

“Worth a try,” she sarcastically responds, hastily wrapping a bandage around her wound, using her teeth to tie it in place. The entire time her eyes are on you, crimson staining her jaw and teeth. Something animalistic awakens in you at the sight, to which you tear your eyes away and struggle to stand back up, heat flooding your face.

Taglist: @seraphicsentences @onlinelesbo @yumimak (comment if u want to be added!)

#lesbian #ellie williams #tlou #tlou2 #fanfic #ellie x reader #wlw #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fic #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #wlw fanfic #fanfiction

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sleepanonymous · 4 months

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In light of recent events (that I fully missed and only caught the resolution of), I figured maybe I should drag this post out of my drafts instead of sitting on it like a coward.

TLDR: It’s important to respect the band, but it’s equally as important to respect your fellow fan’s wishes to not know Sleep Token’s identities.

(These two asks are from the previous drama, not what happened yesterday.)

I’ve had those 2 anon asks sitting in my inbox from that drama last month with a Tumblr user revealing Sleep Token’s names in a rant post because the guys did not unmask during/after the Wembley ritual. I hate to bring this back up but I feel guilty because I pretty much tossed a barrel of toxic waste onto that existing dumpster fire and walked away as everything exploded. I’d gotten back to everyone who DMd me and sent non-anon asks, but couldn’t answer these two. I didn’t want to publicly put that tumblr blog on blast because I did not want it to look like I was trying to instigate a witch hunt.

I had planned on ignoring these two asks since I had no way to DM the anon users, but figured I may as well use this as an opportunity to talk about something else: Sleep Token’s identities and respecting the band member’s wishes to stay anonymous.

Nowadays it’s nearly impossible to simply look up “Sleep Token” and not have the guy’s names and/or faces spoiled. It’s not your fault if this has happened to you, and you aren’t a bad person or disrespecting the band. Even if you looked up the information on purpose, that doesn’t make you disrespectful. It’s human nature to be curious, especially in regards to things that you love.

It’s okay if you know the names and faces of the member’s of Sleep Token. It is not okay to pass this information along in Sleep Token fan spaces, even if you disagree with the anonymity aspect or believe it’s just a gimmick. It is okay to be curious about the members and search for information about them online (such as old projects, public accounts, etc). It is not okay to harass them or their friends/family online (and yes, commenting “Worship” is harassment outside of Sleep Token’s official accounts). It is okay if you don’t find Sleep Token attractive after seeing their faces. It is not okay to hate on them or bodyshame them, especially in Sleep Token fan spaces. It is okay if you recognize the guys out in public, such as outside a venue. It is not okay to draw attention to them, take unsolicited photos of them, or approach them with anything other than respect.

The point I’m trying to make is that you can only be responsible for yourself. I am in a space where I regularly use Sleep Token’s first names, and relentlessly censor myself outside of that space to make sure I don’t accidentally namedrop. If I, an adult with ADHD and a 50 second attention span, can do this, so can you. Know that if you are refraining from openly sharing/spreading information about the band’s identities, you are not only respecting the Sleep Token’s wishes to remain anonymous, but you are also respecting countless other fans that are trying to avoid that same information for their own reasons.

It’s also important to remember there are people on the other side of the screen before sending hate. It’s easy to forget that a living, thinking, feeling, human reading what you’re saying. The best way to deal with people online who give you strong negative emotions is to block them and forget they exist.

If you’ve read this far then I just want to say that you’re amazing and I love you (especially if you’re my mutual or follower). You’re all truly the best community in this fandom. I hope you’re having/had a fantastic day. Forehead kisses and Large Mug Morning Espressos™ for all of you.

#sleep token #vessel sleep token #ii sleep token #iii sleep token #iv sleep token #vessel #ii #iii #iv #asks #answered #(technically)#sleepanon rant #i really cherish all of you #but i also understand if you disagree with what i've said in this rant #i'm also not trying to call anyone out #i've just had 80% of this sitting in my drafts for nearly a month #and it suddenly became relevant again

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theriseofthesea · 5 months

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FAINTING 101

As someone who faints pretty regularly I’m writing this so people have some accurate information and know what to do if someone faints.

First off: there are many reasons a person may faint.

It can be due to a medical condition or as an emotional response to something distressing like seeing blood.

Fainting usually does not look as pretty or romantic as it does in the movies and TV shows.

I’ve had my parents explain that when I faint it looks like a rag doll falling to the ground or me slumping over.

Usually when someone faints, they lose control of their muscles causing them to fall to the ground, unconscious.

This can result from not having enough blood flow to the brain, so the body is trying to fix this by getting you to be horizontal.

Some people might only be unconscious long enough to lose control of their muscles and gain consciousness as they’re falling.

Someone who has fainted should “wake up” within about 30 seconds. They may be confused and it may take a bit for them to orient themselves in the space.

The important thing is to remain calm and assure them that they are safe.

If someone takes longer than about a minute to two minutes to rouse from being unconscious you should call local emergency medical services. Especially if you believe this person has hit their head or they are having seizure like symptoms.

While you’re waiting for help to arrive and the person is unconscious:

Check their pulse

Check to make sure they’re breathing and their airways are not obstructed

Don’t leave them alone, and make sure they are protected until help arrives.

Note: You should take someone to emergency room if fainting is not a regular occurrence. I would exercise caution because some people faint frequently because of a medical condition (like me!) so I’d wait before immediately rushing them to the hospital.

(this is important: I am not a medical professional but I do faint pretty regularly.)

#fainting #what to do if someone faints #fainting 101 #potsie #pots syndrome #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #actually disabled #disabilty #things to know #fainting is not normal #this could be useful for writing reference too!#writingtips

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thetragicallynerdy · 8 months

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So, I'm not sure if this is helpful for anyone, but a while back I wrote a 'how to practice using someone's new pronouns' guide that I sent to a friend of mine who's kid started using pronouns they weren't familiar with. It's using ideas that I've found helpful, or have heard others found helpful.

Please feel free to share and use it as you will! Here is a link to the PDF if you don't want to use the JPG here, and an ID is below!

Link to google drive: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KBnJ8_20zcEiQd1nJZgCbrwJ1EEqy80Z/view?usp=sharing

[ID copied from Alt: two images that have the following text:

Tips for Practicing New Pronouns

These are some tips and ideas for practicing using someone’s new pronouns, or pronouns you’re unfamiliar with such as they/them or neopronouns (ei/eir, xe/xem, etc.) For this guide, we’re going to write about they/them pronouns, but it can apply to any new pronouns. They can also be helpful tips when practicing someone’s new name!

Here are some different strategies that can help you get used to someone’s new pronouns:

Practice correcting yourself in your head when you make mistakes. For example, if you notice yourself using the wrong pronouns or name when you think of a person, say the sentence again, with the right pronouns this time. This is an important mental exercise to do any time you notice yourself misgendering someone! The more we practice, the easier it gets.

Practice using the new pronouns or name out loud, on your own, or with friends/family/coworkers. Try practicing when the person you’re talking about isn’t around so that they don’t have to hear your mistakes, as being misgendered can be a painful experience. Try telling stories about them, recounting what they did that day, etc – things like “they told me they were going to see their family this weekend” and “they really like to play video games”. It doesn’t have to be very complex, just things to help you practice.

Note: It is of course very important to also use the person’s correct pronouns around them, and not just practice when they’re not there. But don’t treat speaking about them to their face as “practice” – it is not their responsibility to help you get their pronouns right!

Try writing things down! Write notes about the person using their new pronouns, write tiny stories, and practice using the new pronouns. Sometimes writing things down can help to make the idea or new information more concrete in our heads, and can make it easier to remember next time.

If you’re writing messages to or about someone, take an extra minute to double check your work, and correct any incorrect pronouns. Do this every time!

It’s important to shift your mindset from "she is a woman” or “he is a man” to "they are nonbinary" (or, for binary trans folks, from “he is a man” to “she is a woman” or “she is a woman” to “he is a man”). Sometimes our brains like to cling to the idea that a person's gender is what it used to be, even if we know and consciously believe that they are the "new to us" gender. It's good practice to be really conscious about shifting the old belief, and if it pops up, correcting it.

There is often a mindset that they/them pronouns are only used plurally, and are thus “difficult to use singularly”, but this isn’t necessarily true! Often in English, when we don't know someone's pronouns, we use they/them. For example, if you didn't know the pronouns of someone’s doctor, you might say "they" rather than "he or she". It can help to shift to the general mindset of “I will use they/them pronouns unless I know someone’s pronoun preference”.

If you still find it hard to use they/them pronouns for a singular person, try situating the person who uses they/them as a plural person in your mind, as if they are a group of people rather than just one.

Another tip for this is to picture the person always having a small mouse in their pocket! When you are talking about the person, try and tell yourself that you are referring to them and their mouse – they are always together!

Try giving a pet they/them pronouns! Some folks do this as a way to practice – your pet doesn’t care about what pronouns it has, and it can help you practice with someone who won’t get hurt when you misgender them.

Something that often helps is to recognize and understand how much it means to transgender and nonbinary people to hear us using their new pronouns. It is very affirming, and goes a long way to show how much you value someone’s gender and respect them. It takes a lot of courage for someone to come out, and the best way we can respect that courage is to try our best to gender the people around us how they want to be gendered!

What if I misgender someone?

The best way to handle misgendering someone who is present is to briefly apologize and try again ("I'm sorry, I meant [correct name/pronoun/honorific]"). Keep your apology short so that it doesn't become about you and your mistake, and then move on! It can be very uncomfortable to hear someone make a big deal over pronoun mistakes, and it puts the burden on the trans person to then make you (the person who made the mistake) feel better. If you are corrected by someone else, try not to be defensive. We’re all learning, and we all make mistakes!

On that note – it’s good practice to use someone’s correct pronouns even if you're referring to them in the past when they used different pronouns. It shows that "even if you used different pronouns or name then, I still see who you are now.”

Last of all - try not to beat yourself up about it when you mess up! Everyone makes mistakes, especially at the start. Just note "no, their pronouns are they/them now," to yourself and try again! If you mess up around other people, just a quick "sorry, they" is a good way to correct yourself.

Good luck!

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#long post #pronouns #gender

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