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shiny-jr · 9 months ago

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- Warning: None really. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.

- Summary: You work a minimum wage job when a fae takes an interest after you jokingly asked him "will you adopt me?"

- Note: I planned for this to be a platonic yandere thing, but really it's only silly thoughts so I don't really plan to continue this unless y'all want. I don't even have a name for it.

Thinking about an AU where...

You were born a regular magicless person in Twisted Wonderland. Which was a travesty, but not too uncommon, as there were plenty of beings in this world that were incapable of magic. It was considered a privilege to be born with such capabilities. A privilege.

Which was likely why the world seemed catered specifically for magic users. Magic users were the cream of the crop, the best of the best. In the social hierarchy, magic users reined on top. That's just how things were. It wasn't discriminatory. It was merely the nature of society. If a company was looking to hire, of course they would inquire if potential employees could use magic. And of course, they were more likely to choose magic users to fill the positions. That explained why you could only find work as a minimum wage telemarketer, but it was better than nothing.

Random numbers generated and numerous attempts, scripted greetings you've said so much you could recite them in your sleep. As soon as you get an answer of "mmmyello?" a casual and exaggerated hello, you go off on the scripted greeting to advertise the product.

Shockingly, the person on the other end doesn't immediately hang up. They merely hum at your words, occasional shifting heard on the other end.

By the tone and voice, you've deduced that it's a rather relaxed guy. A conversation ensues, and although he doesn't sound all that interested in making a purchase, he doesn't get annoyed by your call. In fact, he continues to chat, seemingly amused by you and willing to share details such that he had a son and two others he fondly cared for.

The man, whom referred to himself as Lilia, mentioned he lived in Briar Valley. How odd, as it was common knowledge that the valley didn't have the best connection with technology due to their preference towards magic. He spoke of his well-mannered son and the other two boys he helped raise, one was a loud son of a dentist and the other was a quiet son of longtime family friends. By this time you were imagining an older gentleman with three young boys no older than ten.

He seemed to care so fondly for them that in the middle of the pleasant conversation, you couldn't help but jokingly ask, "Will you adopt me?"

The line was silent and you were mortified as you remembered this was supposed to be business talk, and your calls were likely being recorded. After what must've been shock, he began to laugh on the other end, and you immediately ended the call in your panic.

Why did you say that? You shouldn't have said that– Damn it, right when you were just gonna test the waters to see if he wanted the insurance package! Well, there went your big catch of the day. The rest of the evening was failed attempts, either deadlines or potential customers just hung up as soon as you spoke. Things were looking bleak.

Eventually, not even a week later, you received a letter. A letter, not an email, that was written much like how you expected the contents of a letter from the medieval ages to sound. Starting with: Salutations, Telemarketer–– and after several paragraphs, ending with ––That is why I am now interested in your deal! I will need your assistance, because I have not a single clue about how insurance works.

There was no number, and you couldn't recall the one you had reached him through, so there was no choice but to resort to the old fashioned way. Through letters. Although it would be a hassle and an interaction that would likely last for weeks just for one deal, a customer was a customer, and this would be your first one in so long. However, when you agreed to speak to him, you didn't actually expect him to show up at your doorstep. The voice you recognized, but he was not what you had in mind. He looked to be your age, short with magenta highlights in his black hair and wide red eyes accompanied by a fang-toothed smile. And pointed ears, the sign of fae. Of course he was a fae, that made total sense as to why he spoke as if he were older. He probably was older, much older than you previously thought.

Lilia wore a constant smile, listening but also not listening when you tried your best to explain what insurance was to a fae that had never once needed it.

"Do you get it now...?" You asked finally, after a lengthy explanation to which he barely asked any questions. All he did was nod up and down.

There was a brief pause. "Yesss..." That sounded uncertain, but he didn't appear to care too much as he noticed your bag with only the minimum in it like keys and a thin wallet. Along with the time. "Shouldn't you be on your lunch break now?"

"Yes, but... I don't eat lunch. I'm not hungry." A lie. You were hungry, but it wasn't easy to get lunch on a minimum wage salary alone. You'd eat something for dinner.

Lilia seemed to sense this, somehow detecting your lie. "Hm... Well, I like you. And I'm not about to let a child starve on my watch."

"A child...?" You stared at him incredulously. This fae was practically the same size as you, maybe even shorter. "I'm over––"

"Uh-huh, just nod and come along." He instructed, holding up a finger to gently shush you as he waved you along to follow beside him. "If your age only has two numbers in it, then in my eyes, you're like a toddler."

Lunch was surprisingly nice, as Lilia was quite eccentric but excellent at holding a conversation. He seemed wise and witty, making a great combination. However, you couldn't help but wonder what a fae from Briar Valley was doing here, as it was known that most faes preferred not to leave the valley.

"It's getting late, I do have to be going..." Lilia sighed, before turning to you and his smile softened. "Would you like to see my boys I told you about? It won't take long."

Did he live close by? That was the only plausible explanation you could think of, since Briar Valley was a whole continent away. It only made sense that he lived nearby if he were here now. Maybe he was one of the few fae that chose to leave the valley.

This was quickly disproven when he held your hand and told you to stay still, when it felt like you were hurled through space. A gust of wind slapping your face, your eyes momentarily seeing a kaleidoscope of colors, you felt sick when suddenly your surroundings were darker.

Dark brick walls like black, candles lighting the space, gray stone floors... definitely not the outside of the cafe you were just standing in front of moments ago. Teleporation magic...? He was a fae, and all faes had magic. You only had milliseconds to recover and swallow the rising bile in your throat, as Lilia pulled you into an open space like a courtyard where light filtered in. However, in this space there were training dummies and swords instead of flowers and butterflies.

"Come, come, meet my boys. The ones I've told you about!"

You immediately paled. When you heard boys, you were expecting young children no bigger than half your height. Instead you were met with three towering men with forbidding expressions.

Two of which were dressed in dark metallic armor and lowering sharpened weapons. The one on the left was a bit taller, with green hair and sharp eyes that pierced you like a blade. The one on the right was the shorter of the two, but that didn't make him any less intimidating with his gray hair and aurora eyes on an expression as cold as ice.

And the last, the last was recognizable anywhere. Black robes and majestic black horns like a crown with slitted green eyes that seemed to glow and peer into your very soul. That was the prince of the valley, a fae with unrivaled and frightening levels of magic.

"This is Sebek, Silver, and Malleus. They've so looked forward to meeting you ever since I told them about you after our pleasant telephone chat yesterday!"

#twisted wonderland #twst #diasomnia #malleus draconia #twst malleus #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #silver #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek

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mortalityplays · 4 months ago

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Forgive me if I'm mistaking you for another person, but I remember you speaking at multiple points on the unsustainability of free social media services (I think especially in response to the cohost collapse?), and I'm curious on what your thoughts on bluesky are so far. I'm not an expert on the subject, but from what I've read previously it seemed like they were on track to be financially sustainable, but I don't know if the recent floods of users has thrown those projections off. Sorry if I'm mixing you up with someone else on my timeline, in that case just ignore me.

bluesky will almost certainly follow the same trajectory of monetisation => bloat => enshittification => decline as every other major platform built on venture capital and user hoarding. it's a terrible model that only works in the short term as a mirage for attracting funding and making founders look good for a year or two before they sell.

you can see the same effect in the decline of all the subscription box services that came into vogue just before covid: they feel great to use for as long as the initial injection of venture funding lasts, because the purpose of that funding at that stage is to attract users and impress the next round of funders with how pleasant/intuitive/efficient/ethical/good value the service is. that's the stage where they're handing out freebies and bowling over influencers, and every ingredient in the box is fresh and high quality and locally sourced. wow what a good deal, what a great system!!! why hasn't anyone done this before? the answer is because it's unsustainable by design. they rack up good reviews, sign on a billion new users, attract new funding from a bunch of much more credulous investors, and then gut all of the expensive parts. portions get smaller, ingredients get worse, packaging gets flimsier, prices go up, freebies turn into "5% off your first 9 boxes when you invite 3 friends", and customer service vanishes.

with social media (and platforms like discord) the logic is the same, it's just a little less glaringly obvious to the end user because they're not coming home to leaking packages of rancid chicken on the doorstep. bluesky has an advantage over tiny operations like cohost because it was founded by a billionaire making a point for the sake of his own image. it got a really significant chunk of startup funding, and the owner had existing connections and rep in the space to attract more. That's why it has survived the goldrush period, why it still feels good to use, and why users who have been burned so many times before are finally accepting it as a stable, reliable option. It's still in its venture capital honeymoon phase where the only thing worth spending money on is making the service attractive to users.

What I expect we will see next, with another mass influx of users from twitter and new funding from a rogue's gallery of tech venture sickos led by Blockchain Capital is a strong ramp up into monetising that userbase. They've already been pretty forthright about how they plan to do this, and I think it's a solid roadmap of how Bluesky will bloat and decay over the next few years:

this is a huge lol. don't worry, we're not going to hyperfinancialize the social experience through NFTs. the thing even crypto freaks started feigning amnesia about a year ago. real "our health conscious sodas are 100% arsenic free" messaging here. They know perfectly well that rubes users are suspicious of their typical 5 dimensional tech finance chess games and are patting our hands about last week's bogeymen so nobody worries too hard about whatever 'decentralised developer ecosystem' just happens to be helmed by a bunch of crypto guys. this definitely means something good and based and not a google-like single sign on user data harvesting operation.

This is the same shit that's currently rotting the floorboards of discord. Bluntly, there is no way to run a platform on this scale without gating functionality behind paid services. Discord has been squeezing free-tier file uploads and call quality etc. down steadily and cranking up subscription costs over the last year or two, throwing in chaff like animated avatar frames to try and justify the user cost. They're also doing the same misdirection thing again here, pointing to Thing We All Hate to deflect from thing we might not like very much when they do it. Booo elon booo we all hate elon!!! wait how do we feel about subscription models again,

watch out for this to kill porn on bsky like it has killed porn on every other social platform 👍 boooo we hate elon boooo stupid idiot and his 'everything app' booooo wait why do you need my tax information, what's that about mastercard,

Look, we are all aware social media is a money pit. Let's not forget dorsey was looking to sell twitter in the first place, long before elon's very public plunge into total online derangement. Subscription services are not going to plug the hole, so we are gradually going to see more and more spaghetti thrown at the wall while early funders shuffle cards and do their pyramid scheme bit bringing in stupider and stupider investments. this is the window in which bluesky will be temporarily worth using for us, for the idiot public, the poorly rendered crowd jpegs in the background of their venture capital MOBA. it's in their interests to slow and pad the decline as much as possible, because that is how they get maximally paid.

Given the scale of the money involved, and dorsey's weird ego investment, I think bluesky will probably manage a controlled drift for a good few years before it gets really bloated and painful. and by then we will all be so used to the *checks notes* decentralised developer ecosystem that we'll just be posting through it, watching another generation of columnists call another collapsing platform 'their beloved hellsite' and passing around that meme about not getting out of our chairs no sir until idk we all get on a fediverse neurolink alternative to stick it to the elongated muskrat and our brains pop peacefully in our sleep. which I guess is the closest thing to viability any social media platform can achieve.

anyway diogenes the cynic is also on bluesky

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17020 · 5 months ago

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# I HEART PUBLIC RELATIONS (2)

in order to your boost your popularity as a lifestyle influencer, your manager decides to partner up with anri teieri and jinpachi ego, for a pr stunt with a man from one of japan's most famous content houses: BLUE LOCK.

the rules are simple: choose a man, post three videos together a week, post an (undisclosed) ad weekly, and interact with each other on social media. ooh! don't forget! the more chemistry between you two, the better.

STARRING . . . reo mikage, nagi seishiro, tabito karasu, yo hiori. fem reader!

CANDIDATE 5 — REO MIKAGE

USER: MIKAGE FOLLOWERS: 1.1M (100k were bought) CATEGORY: LIFESTYLE/FOOD

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

you knew you were in for a wild ride once you stepped into the house and saw none other than the heir of mikage corp standing there, pointing his finger at you and stating "she looks pretty! i'd like to work with her." as if he was the one who got to choose. nonetheless, you agreed to work with reo as he seemed like a pretty loaded interesting guy.

turns out, reo is very sweet. the first tiktok you filmed with him was for his account, in which he offered to take you on a shopping spree, with him and you making silly outfits for one another (just casually picking the ugliest clothes in gucci??) and then trying them on in the dressing room. you were filming a vlog for your account too, and you were surprised when reo surprised you with a very stylish outfit for you and him, to "go catch some dinner tomorrow." wow mikage, very smooth. comments went insane because 1. who are you? new friend? untold lore? 2. you are drop dead gorgeous even in the trash outfits that reo picked for you? and 3. please be in more of reo's videos!!

the second tiktok was a dance trend, the da' dip dance. it was done in very uncomfortable clothes, which were the ones reo bought the day before. it was funny to see reo dancing in a suit and tie, and you with a floor-length gown, in the content house. nagi appeared in the background as he was in the kitchen, which caught the attention of viewers. you posted the same dance, except it was filmed inside the restaurant, because with reo mikage, there is no such thing as shame. he cleared the restaurant out anyway because he wanted privacy, though, so the only preying eyes were those of the servers. reo was visibly flushed in the video, and his excuse was the poor lighting of the restaurant. girl that restaurant had better lighting than a photography studio you are not fooling anyone.

the last tiktok you filmed with him was... a food review! reo's comments are always flooded with "oh my god when does this guy ever eat peasant food", so you listened and brought him some of your favorite fast foods for him to try. wingstop is the biggest hit as of now, so you ordered some wings and tenders through a delivery app for him to give an honest review. people loved your video, as they felt they could connect with you and reo over something so mundane. viewers commented on the fact that you and reo looked like and acted like a married couple, which ended up boosting both your accounts even more.

(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . HELLO FRESH!

we know that reo's meals since he joined the content house were all takeout from fancy restaurants. so when he got approached by hello fresh for a partnership, he agreed in a heartbeat. he made a video with you, the two of you preparing a nice, healthy dinner with the package from hello fresh, captioning the video "date night at home!" with clips of him behind you helping you cut some vegetables, making juice standing next to one another, and hands brushing every so often. fans were amused that reo finally opted for something other than takeout, instead preferring to spend quality time with you by cooking.

"Baya doesn't cook for me anymore, so me and bae always count on @.hellofresh #hellofreshpartner #ad"

THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .

because reo's lifestyle is extremely lavish, and you were one of the few who got to experience it to the fullest. reo looked like a lovesick puppy around you, and it wasn't hard to notice. he spoiled you rotten, and people could tell due to how your room slowly became flooded with designer after the first week of filming with reo. lovebombing much? the stunt was marvelous, with each of you gaining around 500k followers from it. to celebrate, reo booked a villa in marbella for the two of you to unwind and relax, wanting time for the two of you to get to know one another. plus, more content for the socials!

CANDIDATE 6 — SEISHIRO NAGI

USER: NAGI (reo bought it for him) FOLLOWERS: 940k CATEGORY: GAMING/LIFESTYLE(?)

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

the reason nagi actually went viral is interesting, which is why your management team chose him for you. he went viral because he was in reo's video in the background, and people began to fawn over the shy giant on their screen. he started streaming on twitch and also posting a few tiktoks, which gave him a boost on his overall social media presence. his management came into contact with yours for the stunt because they desperately wanted him to reach 1 million followers.

the first tiktok you filmed on his account was entirely on accident. you were going to film a vlog with him at the house as he didn't want to leave the house at all that day. he pressed record on his phone, and accidentally cut the video way too short. in the frame were you and him, with him saying "um, is this thing on?" and you trying to fix the framing of the camera, "nagi, can you move the cam—" and the video got posted instead of being saved as a funny draft. people were confused as to why that was posted, but it got around 10 million views. fans wanted to know who you were, and they were going to find out soon.

the second tiktok you filmed was for your account, with you preparing breakfast, lunch, and dinner as the "private chef of a famous lazy influencer", it didn't take long for people to put two and two together, seeing nagi in the background and making the video go viral. fans were happy that nagi was finally eating something healthy, and they loved the way in which you laughed at his sleepy self wandering around the kitchen, and also adoring his cute reactions to your food.

for the last tiktok, you gathered clips from nagi's stream, in which you and him played dress to impress. he had bought the two of you vip before filming, which made the competition between you two even funnier. nagi's outfits were absolutely horrendous, with the comments begging you to help him out. he agreed, saying that "i mean, y/n's beautiful and she's got great taste, so she needs to help me out." people did not know what your beauty had to do with your taste in fashion, and came to the conclusion that nagi was beginning to harvest feelings for you. he was way too blunt for his own good.

(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . CELSIUS!

nagi got reached out to by celsius, as his brand as a gamer required him to constantly be sipping on energy drinks. he filmed the ad with you, as the video focused on you and him sitting next to one another, his head on top of yours. nagi took a sip of the celsius can and then passed on to you, with you doing the same. nagi was too lazy to come up with his own caption, so he copied and pasted one of the many which celsius sent him as an idea. people noticed right away because 1. seishiro nagi does not use caps. 2. seishiro nagi does not use emojis. 3. seishiro nagi does not add captions to his tiktoks. people laughed at his laziness, and saw how he genuinely smiled in the ad by sharing his drink with you. there was a ship name created, and the tag started trending...

You KNOW it's serious when you share a Celsius... 😘❤️👀 @.celsiusuk #Celsiuspartner

THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .

because nagi smiled whenever he was with you. he started being less aloof in his videos and streams, which caught the attention of the public. they started to wonder what kind of drug you were, because you had nagi HOOKED. he was looking only at you on every video you filmed with him, and he looked for every excuse possible for him to be close to you. it was like watching a little kid fall in love, and you both gained 300k followers from it. when he hit one million followers, you decided to throw a mini surprise for him in his room, and when the video was posted, people saw that for the first time, seishiro nagi willingly threw himself at someone with a biiiig bear hug.

CANDIDATE 7 — TABITO KARASU

USER: OSAKASSASSIN FOLLOWERS: 760k CATEGORY: PSYCHOLOGY/LIFESTYLE

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

when you entered the house and saw none other than tiktok's clown psychologist tabito karasu, you held in your laugh. yes, he loved to analyze people, but that ended up combining with thirst traps and becoming his social media personality. once you got to know him when planning, you realized he wasn't that bad at all.

of course, the first thing karasu suggested you do was a mini series of "advice on how to get a girl" in which he explains the most basic advice on how to ask someone on a date. i wouldn't be surprised if his fanbase were children aspiring to be him, but anywho. he starts off by filming a "so you know how i'm always preaching about how to treat a woman right? we're gonna put it to the test" and proceeds to take you on the best date of your life. he surprises you with flowers, drives you to a nice restaurant, pays for your dinner, takes you for ice cream, and the high and mighty tabito karasu lets you win at every game in the arcade he drags you to. the end of the tiktok contains a screenshot of your text saying "i'd go out with you again :)" and the fans went off in the comments. he didn't show your face, but he did mention that he helped take pictures of you with the plushie he won for you at the arcade.

the second tiktok was on your account, which was an aesthetic video of "come to the arcade with me!" and included clips of the date without seeing karasu. except for the fact that there was a clip of you and the plushie, to which people asked "who took the picture???" your response? "the worker! :)" and all of a sudden people were commenting on karasu's tiktok "yo you working in an arcade now???" and "did you take @.yn out on a date???" yeahhh. you posted on your instagram with the plushie, and also a pic of two ice cream cones, with the caption "late nights" and karasu was tagged at the very end. there were more than 100k comments on your post, gushing about how the two of you seemed like a cute couple.

the final tiktok was a dance trend, filmed at your home (karasu insisted, because "the house is too crowded, and it would ruin the tiktok" ok pretty boy). it was the dumb dick dance, and what karasu didn't expect was for you to not do the dance and hit him straight in the nutsack instead. karasu fell to the floor and people thought it was so funny that the king of rizz got absolutely owned by his date. some people strted commenting "deserved omg i can't stand the guy" to which you replied "well now he can't stand either!!!" you became an icon in the eyes of the public. congratulations.

(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . POPPI!

another drink guy! karasu partnered up with poppi's healthy sodas because sodas magically cure depression. don't ask me! ask dr karasu. his ad for poppi included a fridge restock, with the whole upper shelf of the fridge being different poppi flavors, as "my girl likes sodas, so i wanna make sure she gets the best of the best. stay healthy, choose poppi." queue the montage of you and him being happy drinking doc pop and the comments saying "for fucks sake just buy regular dr pepper.... cute tiktok i suppose." people were divided, as some said to buy regular coke, and some said the lovesick look you had while filming made them accidentally buy 500 poppi cans.

cleanse your gut, cleanse your mind ✨ @.poppi #poppipartner

THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .

because karasu is one flirty hoe. he was constantly referring to you as the 'baddie' on his videos, and always having his arm around you. people pointed out that since being with you online, he stopped posting thirst traps, and when asked why, he simply answered "those are for my girl now :)" this man was in too deep he cleared the roster. he cleared his online bench. for a stunt? mhhhmm. you both gained around 100k followers, as your fanbases already knew one another. it was bound to happen. karasu asked you to be his girlfriend around a month after the stunt, and you knew it was coming due to the change in his content from "how to get every girl" to "how to get THE girl". the internet knew something was up when he suddenly started posting "how to be a good boyfriend" cheers to the newlyweds!

CANDIDATE 8 — YO HIORI

USER: HIORIYOOH FOLLOWERS: 1.3M CATEGORY: GAMING/TECH

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

you didn't even have to go inside the house, as hiori had sent you a dm about a potential collab due to his management team and yours coming to contact with one another. you did a stream playing dress to impress, in which hiori commented "let's play together sometime! check your dm :-)" (written by karasu, sent by karasu) and you agreed to his invite to play roblox together.

hiori isn't on tiktok much, so the first tiktok you did was a promo for his livestream, in which you and him decided to play chained together. it was funny to see hiori and you yell and struggle, eventually giving up on the game and ordering takeout while on live, and just becoming a regular hangout. hiori showed a side of himself no one expected him to have—a sociable, extroverted side of himself, as you were so easy to talk to according to him. he was all giggles and smiles with you, which is why he ordered takeout as an excuse to spend more time with you. hiori ended the live and continued getting to know you, with his social media being confused as to why he decided to stop the live so suddenly, with the words "HIORI", "LIVE", "Y/N", "SIMP", and "STOP" trending on x.

the second tiktok filmed was on your account, which was a comic con vlog. hiori was invited as he was a streamer, and he took you with him as his plus one. he asked to cosplay with you, with him being link and asking you to be zelda. cosplay was actually a big word, as you did inspired outfits, but they were obvious enough for everyone to know who you were. which inspired lots of fan pictures, with hiori fan accounts posting them and being like "the couple is at comic con!!!" and starting huge threads on every interaction you two had. the pictures fans took all focused on one thing: hiori's reactions when speaking with you. all smiles by the way. who is this man???

the final tiktok was for your account, and you planned this along with nanase and isagi. you went to the house as hiori had invited you to film both of you playing league of legends before the second part of arcane came out. you and the boys stood outside of hiori's room, knocking the door. once hiori opened it, isagi threw a bouquet towards hiori, with you catching it before it hit him. you couldn't even ask if he was alright, as you got so lost in his eyes. so did he. it went viral. hiori was a whole tomato umemiya could have easily planted in his garden. hiori was definitely shocked and flustered while you filmed content for his socials, causing the internet to make youtube compilations of every time hiori smiled or blushed at the sight of you. millions of views.... millions.

(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . RAID SHADOW LEGENDS!

there's no surprised he partnered up with raid, as most youtubers do. in order to do the ad, though, he made a SKIT. those typical, drew gooden-esque skits in order to introduce the ad in his video with you, with you participating with him, and even playing raid shadow legends alongside him. since it was a video, there was a clear indication that this was an ad, and people noticed how. again. you were the first person who brought him out of his shell to do a small skit for an ad. fans adored how you and him held in your laughs while filming, and even showed the bloopers for the ad at the end. in the bloopers, though, while you were in frame playing raid, hiori whispered that "you look real pretty here, y/n." he didn't edit his videos because he has an editing team, so when the video was published he noticed that fans could hear his off-screen commentary loud and clear. oops! someone fire the editing team real quick.

"you look real pretty here, y/n—anyway um, okay—look at the screen on your phone, then at the camera and say 'this video is sponsored by raid shadow legends" "this video is sponsored by raid shadow LEGENDS 💜" "how did you do that—"

THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .

hiori is an absolute sweetheart, whose face went beet red whenever you complimented him in every video. like isagi, mans is shy, give him a break, okay? whether it was your hands brushing against one another, or shoulders bumping while filming, you could see hiori tense up and have his face on fire from how hot it was. his eyes never left your figure if they weren't on the screen in front of him, which said a lot to his og fans. they witnessed a change in hiori, for the better! thanks to you, hiori started to bloom. due to this stunt, both of you gained almost 1 million followers, as the slow-burn was that interesting. hiori gained the balls to ask you out after that. people suspected that perhaps you were dating, but you always said you were really good friends. around five months later, the cat came out of the bag as there were pictures of you two leaving the same apartment, to which you had to clear the air. you had moved into hiori's apartment two months ago.

taglist (open, yippee!): @kaiser1ns @stunies @ryescapades @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @heartkaji @maruflix @phinbie @vinomino @kunitsyn

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #reo x reader #nagi x reader #karasu x reader #hiori x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #reo mikage x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #tabito karasu x reader #yo hiori x reader #hiori yo x reader #karasu tabito x reader #mikage reo x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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someonegoood · 8 days ago

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SUTURES & SCARS part 3 ✫ jeon jungkook

CONTAINS: medical!au, surgeon!jungkook x surgeon!reader, slow burn, teasing, mutual pining, enemies to lovers, fighting turned bonding, past and present love, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoy it!! this work is not revised, and english is not my first language. part 4 (final part) will be up tomorrowwww

my main masterlist! ❀ comment to be on the taglist!

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part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4.

It was the end of the third-year couples exam, the one that everyone talked about—vascular surgery. The one where everyone was supposed to show their mettle, to prove they could handle high-stress, high-risk situations.

You and Jungkook were paired up for the couples exam. The two of you had barely spoken a word for the last hour in the last study session, both heads buried in textbooks, eyes darting between notes and the clock ticking down. The stress in the room was palpable. Jungkook’s brows were furrowed in concentration, his jaw clenched tight with the pressure of what was to come.

In the middle of the tension, Coco and Aerum rushed over to you, each holding a small snack wrapped in cute packaging. Coco, grinning, handed you a bag of pastries with a little note scribbled on it: "You’ve got this! Just don’t forget to eat! -Coco & Aerum"

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you looked at the note, the warmth of their support momentarily breaking through the stress. But then your gaze shifted to Jungkook, who was now leaning back in his chair, eyes half-lidded and a pale flush on his face. You could see it: he was about to pass out from the sheer exhaustion.

Without thinking, you tore open the bag and grabbed one of the pastries, offering it to him.

“You should eat,” you said, holding it out to him with a quiet insistence. He glanced at the snack, shaking his head slightly, his voice hoarse from the long hours of studying.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need it.”

You raised an eyebrow, not buying his tired excuse. “Jungkook, you’re literally about to fall asleep right here. Just take it.”

For a moment, he stared at the snack as if debating whether or not to refuse again. But then, after a brief pause, he sighed and took it from your hand, his fingers brushing yours in the process.

“Fine, but only because you’re making me,” he said quietly, his lips quirking slightly into a reluctant smile.

Twenty minutes later, the room was tense as everyone worked in their exams, the ticking of the clock a constant reminder of the pressure mounting around them. The procedure had been complicated from the start, but neither of them had expected things to go this wrong.

When Jungkook’s hand shook slightly as he reached for the vessel clamp, you noticed immediately. It was a small thing, barely noticeable to anyone else, but to someone who had worked with him as much as you had, it was everything.

His usual steady precision faltered, and before anyone could stop it, the clamp slipped, and the vessel ruptured. Blood started to pool in the sterile field.

Jungkook froze. His eyes widened, and for a split second, you saw something raw and vulnerable in him that he rarely allowed anyone to witness. He wasn’t the composed, confident Jungkook anymore—he was a medical student caught in a moment of doubt.

The tension in the room thickened, but you didn’t hesitate. You knew the procedure like the back of your hand. Without missing a beat, you stepped forward, your voice sharp but steady.

“Jungkook, re-align the clamp, now,” you commanded, your words cutting through the rising panic.

His gaze flicked to yours, confusion and frustration battling in his eyes, but he didn’t question you. He nodded, and together, you worked seamlessly—your hands guiding his as you quickly corrected the mistake.

As you worked side by side, you could feel the heat radiating from his hands—his large, veiny hands—steady but warm against yours as you guided him through each movement. Each move felt purposeful, as though you were both determined to finish the task without acknowledging the weight of the moment.

You’d never seen him so... human. It wasn’t the competition, the rivalry that defined him anymore—it was just two med students, unsure, learning together, trying to survive the chaos of it all.

Today, the surgery had gone smoothly, the procedure flawless as you worked together with the rest of the team. It was a high-profile case—another patient from the Yim family, one of the wealthiest and most influential in the city.

Their name was well known, their connections spanning across industries, their wealth visible in every aspect of their lives. The pressure had been immense, every detail scrutinized, every move under the watchful eyes of those who demanded perfection.

You could feel the weight of their family's expectations, knowing how much was riding on the success of the surgery—not just for the patient, but for the family's reputation. But despite the external pressure, the team had worked seamlessly.

Jungkook had been in his element, focused and precise, his confidence in the operating room contagious. You and the team moved like a well-oiled machine, each step measured and careful, as if nothing could possibly go wrong.

As the last stitch was placed and the patient was stabilized, a sense of relief washed over you. It wasn’t the surgery that would be remembered, however—it was the fallout that was yet to come. The Yim family wasn’t known for their subtlety, and they didn’t tolerate even the smallest imperfection.

The complication came after the surgery, when the patient—Yim's younger daughter—began showing signs of unexpected internal bleeding. Despite the procedure having gone well, her condition quickly deteriorated post-op.

There was an undetected issue with one of the blood vessels that had been repaired during the surgery. It wasn’t a fault of anyone's technique, but a rare complication that sometimes arises, even in the most routine cases.

You and the team had been monitoring her closely, and as the hours passed, the bleeding decreased. You tried to manage it as best as you could, ordering additional imaging and coordinating with the anesthesia team.

The moment you stepped into the sterile hallway, the atmosphere shifted. The tension was palpable, the air thick with their demands.

Yim Seojin's voice was laced with anger as he looked you up and down, his gaze unforgiving. "How could this happen?" His words hit you like a slap, sharp and cutting. "We trusted you. This should have been routine."

You stood your ground, doing your best to remain composed despite the weight of his accusation pressing down on you. But the Yim family wasn’t used to things going wrong. They were used to getting what they wanted, when they wanted it.

Before you could respond, the mother of the family, a poised but intimidating woman, stepped forward. Her expression was cold, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed you. “This is unacceptable,” she said, her voice unwavering.

“I will not stand for such a failure. My girl's life is at stake, and you—" she paused, her gaze flicking to Seojin for a moment before landing back on you, "—you were supposed to ensure everything went perfectly.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “Mrs. Yim, I understand your frustration, but the surgery went as planned. The complications arose post-operation—"

Her hand shot out, cutting you off. “I don’t want excuses. You’re a doctor, aren’t you? You’re supposed to make sure everything goes smoothly. If you can’t do that, we’ll find someone who can."

The bite of her words stung, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “We did everything by the book. I’ll continue to monitor the patient closely. There’s no need to—"

"That’s not good enough," Mrs. Yim snapped, her face turning red with barely contained rage. “I will personally make sure this gets reported to the medical board. You’ll regret this, I promise you."

Seojin stepped in then, his voice dripping with disdain. “Maybe next time you’ll take our family more seriously. The Yim name carries weight. Remember that."

You tried to ignore the rising anxiety in your chest, the pressure mounting under their relentless scrutiny. One of the family members, a cousin, suddenly grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him in an aggressive manner. The unexpected force made you stumble, and you collided with a tray of medical equipment. The crash echoed down the hallway, a painful reminder of just how quickly everything had unraveled.

You opened your mouth to speak again, but before you could, Jungkook was there. His strong arms were around you, pulling you upright with practiced ease. The sight of him, his eyes wide with concern, brought a fleeting sense of comfort in the chaos.

"That’s enough," Jungkook's voice was low, almost a growl, as he locked eyes with Yim Seojin. He had seen you struggle before, but this was different. This was a side of Jungkook that few people saw—a man who wasn’t afraid to stand up for the people he cared about.

“You don’t get to speak to her like that. She did her job, and she did it well. If there’s anyone you should be blaming, it’s your patient’s condition, not her.”

Mrs. Yim’s eyes flashed with anger, but before she could retort, Jungkook stepped even closer, his body rigid with tension. "You’ll take this matter up with the medical board if you must," he said, his voice firm, “but I’ll personally make sure they know how hard she’s worked, how much she’s given to her patients. This ends now.”

The air in the hallway was thick with tension, neither side willing to back down. Mrs. Yim took a step back, her lips tight with fury, but she said nothing more. Seojin exchanged a sharp look with his mother, but after a moment of silence, they turned and walked away, their steps echoing as they left you and Jungkook alone.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The weight of the conversation, the pressure from the family, the lingering unease—it all started to settle in your chest.

Jungkook turned to you, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure if you were. His presence, the way he had stepped in without a second thought, brought an unexpected warmth to your chest.

“I’m fine,” you said, but the words didn’t feel like they were entirely true. The pain in your side was distant now, overshadowed by the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook’s hand brushed against your arm lightly, a small gesture that seemed to carry more weight than anything that had been said by the Yim family. There was a moment of silence between you, the tension of the encounter still lingering, but it was different now.

His gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between you, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. You held his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. Something had changed between you, something that neither of you could ignore any longer.

"HE DID WHAT?!" Coco nearly choked on her drink, eyes wide with disbelief as she gaped at you across the table.

Aerum wasn’t any better, her chopsticks frozen mid-air, mouth slightly open. “Wait, wait, wait. Back up. Jungkook grabbed you? As in, full-on hero-mode, ‘I’ll save you’ kind of thing?”

You sighed, stirring the remnants of your food with your spoon. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh, really?” Coco leaned forward, eyebrows raised. “Because from what you just told us, it sure sounds like he was two seconds away from throwing punches for you.”

Aerum finally put her chopsticks down, tilting her head. “And the eye contact? The moment where you both just... froze?”

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Why did I even tell you two?”

“Because we’re your best friends and you love us,” Coco grinned, nudging your shoulder. “Now, be honest. How long did you stare at each other? Five seconds? Ten?”

You rolled your eyes, but the memory flashed through your mind too vividly—the way Jungkook’s fingers had tightened on your arm just a little before letting go, the way his eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, had softened for just a moment. How, despite everything, your heart had betrayed you with the way it raced in your chest.

“…It doesn’t matter.”

Aerum and Coco exchanged a knowing look before turning back to you, smug smiles firmly in place.

"Anyway, he stepped away after one second," you muttered, waving a dismissive hand.

Aerum grinned. “Girl... we have a duty as your best friends to analyze every second of that moment and determine just how down bad Jungkook actually is.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I regret everything.”

A few weeks later, your mother’s usual concerned tone drifted through the speakerphone while you stood at the stove, stirring the pot of ramen for Coco and Aerum.

“You work too much,” she sighed. “You barely have time to eat, let alone meet someone. So, I arranged a date for you.”

You frowned, glancing over at Coco, who was already eavesdropping with wide eyes. “Mom, I really don’t—”

“He’s a doctor too! You’ll have lots in common.”

Aerum gasped dramatically from the couch, mouthing Who is it?

You shook your head, ignoring her, turning down the heat on the stove. “Mom, I don’t have time for—”

“It’s already set. Friday night. 8 p.m. Wear something nice.”

Your grip on the spoon tightened. “Mom—”

The line went dead.

Coco clapped her hands together. “A blind date? Oh, this is good.”

Aerum smirked. “Do you think he’s hot?”

You groaned, ladling the ramen into bowls. “I think I need new friends.”

And that was how you found yourself walking into one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, dreading whatever awkward small talk awaited you. The low hum of conversation, the clinking of fine china, the scent of seared steak and aged wine—it all should have been inviting, but instead, it felt suffocating.

You weren’t in the mood for mindless small talk, for fake smiles and forced laughter. But what choice did you have? Your mother had been relentless. “Just one date,” she had pleaded. “If you hate him, I’ll never ask again.”

And that was how you found yourself standing in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, bracing for the inevitable awkwardness.

But nothing—nothing—could have prepared you for this.

Sitting at the table near the window, scrolling through his phone with an air of disinterest, was Jeon Jungkook.

Your stomach plummeted.

He looked up at the exact moment you froze, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His brows knit together, confusion flickering across his face before settling into something much more familiar—exasperation.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, setting his phone down with an irritated sigh. You blinked, still trying to process the cruel joke the universe had just played on you.

Jungkook. Your rival. Your constant headache. Your blind date.

Dragging a hand down your face, you groaned, stepping forward and dropping into the seat across from him. “Trust me, if I had known, I wouldn’t have come.”

Jungkook scoffed, leaning back against his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The silence between you stretched, thick with disbelief.

All around you, the restaurant carried on—soft jazz played in the background, couples whispered over candlelit tables, waiters glided through the space with practiced ease. But at your table, the tension was suffocating.

Finally, you exhaled sharply, waving over the waiter. “Might as well eat since we’re here.”

Jungkook’s lips pressed into a firm line before he gave a short nod. “Fine. But don’t think for a second that this means I enjoy your company.”

The first fifteen minutes were exactly what you expected—snarky remarks, pointed glares, and a barely veiled irritation woven into every exchange.

“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, swirling your wine glass as you stared at him.

Jungkook, who had been cutting into his steak with practiced ease, didn’t even look up. “That makes two of us.”

“Of all the doctors in this city, why did it have to be you?”

“Fate, obviously.” He smirked, finally meeting your gaze. “Or maybe your mom just has impeccable taste.”

You rolled your eyes, stabbing your fork into a roasted potato with a little more force than necessary. But somewhere between the appetizers and the main course, something shifted.

Maybe it was the food, or maybe the absurdity of it all, but the conversation stopped feeling like a battlefield and started flowing with an ease you hadn’t expected.

Jungkook swirled his wine, watching you over the rim of his glass. “So, what did your mom tell you about this mystery man she set you up with?”

You sighed, setting your fork down. “That he was some perfect, respectable doctor who ‘would understand my crazy work schedule.’”

Jungkook let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Wow. What a glowing review of me.”

You arched a brow. “And what about you? What did your family say?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “That you were nice and ‘just my type.’”

Your fork paused midair. “You’re lying.”

His smirk widened. “You’ll never know.”

By the time dessert arrived, the tension between you had softened. There were still moments of bickering, but the sharp edges had dulled, replaced by something almost… playful. Jungkook watched you as you stole a spoonful of his tiramisu, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. “You’re insufferable.”

You chewed thoughtfully. “And yet, you let me do it.”

His jaw flexed, but instead of snapping back, he simply shook his head with a low chuckle. Maybe it was the wine, or the surreal nature of the night, but for the first time in years, sitting across from Jungkook didn’t feel like a battle.

For a fleeting moment, it almost felt easy.

Almost.

Later that night, as you stepped into your apartment, the scent perfume lingered in the air—a reminder that Coco and Aerum had been there earlier, but now, the place was empty. They had gone out for the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You sighed, kicking off your shoes and tossing your bag onto the couch. The weight of the evening still clung to you—the surprise, the tension, the unexpected ease of conversation. It was Jungkook. Of all people, it had to be him.

With a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and pressed call.

Your mother answered almost immediately, her voice bright with satisfaction. “I know you’re going to thank me for the date. He’s the son of my cousin’s best friend, such a respectable young man—”

You cut her off before she could start gushing. “Mom, do you remember Jeon Jungkook?”

A pause. “…Of course, I remember Jeon Jungkook.”

“Well,” you exhaled, rubbing your temple, “he was my date.”

Silence.

Then, your mother practically screeched, “THE Jeon Jungkook? The doctor? From med school?!”

You winced, pulling the phone away from your ear. “Yes, that Jeon Jungkook.”

A gasp. Then, “Oh my god.” You could already hear the wheels turning in her head, the excitement creeping into her tone.

“Mom, no.”

“Oh, yes. This is fate! I knew you two had something—”

You groaned, flopping onto the couch. “Mom, please, don’t start.”

“I won’t,” she promised. Then, after a beat— “So? Did you two get along?”

You stared at the ceiling, thinking about the way his eyes had softened by the end of the night, the way his smirk had been more amused than arrogant, the way your usual bickering had felt lighter.

“…It wasn’t the worst night of my life,” you admitted.

Your mother gasped. “You liked it!”

The hospital halls bustled with their usual energy—footsteps echoing against the linoleum floors, the distant murmur of conversations blending with the beeping of monitors. You moved through it all on autopilot, clipboard in hand, your white coat slipping slightly off your shoulder as you made your rounds.

But no matter how much you tried to focus, your mind kept drifting.

To him.

To the way Jungkook had leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his dark eyes watching you with something that felt different from the usual rivalry.

To the smirk that had curled at his lips when he teased you, but without the usual bite behind it.

To the way the candlelight had flickered against his skin, making the whole night feel too intimate, too much like something you weren’t supposed to want.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. Focus.

"You're daydreaming."

The voice cut through your thoughts, sharp and knowing.

You blinked, snapping back to reality, only to find Ryuk Jinho standing in front of you, arms crossed, amusement flickering in his expression.

"I—what?" You gripped the clipboard a little too tightly.

Jinho smirked, tilting his head. "You never space out. Should I be concerned?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could get a word out, he took a step closer, lowering his voice.

"Or should Jeon Jungkook be concerned?"

Your breath caught. The clipboard nearly slipped from your grasp, but you tightened your fingers around it at the last second. "What?"

He chuckled, clearly reveling in your reaction. "You’ve been out of it all morning. And considering the fact that Jungkook looked about ready to murder someone when I saw him earlier, I’d say something happened."

You scoffed, forcing yourself to roll your shoulders back, to push away the ridiculous warmth creeping up your neck. "Nothing happened."

Jinho hummed, unconvinced. "Right. So, you didn’t go on a blind date with him last night?"

Your shoulders tensed. "How do you know that?"

He grinned, his eyes glinting. "Hospital gossip spreads fast."

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It wasn’t even a real date. It was a setup by my mom, and neither of us knew."

Jinho nodded slowly, as if considering your words. Then, with a sly smile, he asked, "So why are you thinking about it so much?"

You parted your lips to answer, to deflect, to say anything.

But nothing came out. And that was the problem.

Before you could come up with a response, a familiar voice chimed in from behind.

"Wait, what? You went on a blind date with Jungkook?"

You turned just in time to see Seo Hana standing near the water dispenser, bottle in hand, her eyes wide with intrigue. The sound of water filling her bottle echoed in the background, but her attention was fully on you now.

Jinho smirked, clearly enjoying the way you were being cornered. "Yep. And now she's daydreaming about it at work."

"I'm not daydreaming," you huffed, crossing your arms, but the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

Hana gasped, stepping closer, her water bottle now completely forgotten. "Oh my God, what happened? Was it awkward? Did you guys fight the whole time?"

You let out a groan, pressing your fingers to your temples. "It was fine. We argued a little, but then we actually… talked."

Jinho raised a brow. "Talked? As in, civil conversation? With Jungkook?"

Hana let out a dramatic gasp. "Did hell freeze over?"

You shot them both a glare. "Very funny."

But Hana wasn’t letting this go. She leaned in, a knowing smile creeping onto her face. "Okay, but real talk—did you like it?"

You opened your mouth, ready to deny it. Ready to laugh it off. Ready to say of course not. But instead, you hesitated. And that hesitation said everything.

Jinho and Hana exchanged looks before gasping in unison.

"You did!"

"Oh my God, you're so done for," Hana teased, grinning.

Jinho smirked, crossing his arms. "I’ll start planning the wedding."

You groaned, throwing your head back. "I hate both of you."

But even as you said it, your mind betrayed you once again—flashing back to the way Jungkook had looked at you last night. How, for once, it hadn’t been sharp or guarded.

For once, it had just been him.

previous / next

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adventures-in-a-world-of-fiction · 2 years ago

Text

I've seen a couple of comments from someone around paying Tumblr for stuff that I want to address. I'm not going to mention the person who made these comments because I'm not trying to pick a fight, but I think they're worth talking about. The comments in question are: "you think user money is anything compared to advertisers" and in a pinned post they tell people to not give money to Tumblr.

The thing is, user money can definitely be something compared to advertisers. There are multiple ways that an online company (in general, not just Tumblr) can make money, but let's break them down into three categories:

A. From the users - selling merchandise, subscriptions, premium packages, asking for donations, etc.

B. From advertisers - selling views and space on the platform to companies that use it to try and sell stuff to the users

C. From data - selling information about the user base to other companies that might use it in a whole bunch of dodgy and malicious ways, or just try to find better ways to sell stuff to us

All three of these are viable ways for a company to make money, and many companies use some combination of the above. What matters is what the company sees as their PRIMARY method of making money, because that is what drives their corporate decisions.

If none of the methods are making money, the company will shut down, and I don't want Tumblr to shut down - I like this hellsite. If option B is what makes them the most money, then they will make business decisions that make the platform look better to advertisers and this is likely to drive everything in a more algorithm-centric direction and give users fewer options to curate their own experience. If option C is what makes them the most money, then they will focus on features that enable privacy invasion and data harvesting. If option A is what makes them the most money, then they have to think about how to keep the users spending that money. Now, option A doesn't always lead to good outcomes - in mobile/online games it can end up as loot box gambling add-ins and pay-to-win options, but thankfully Tumblr isn't the sort of site where loot box mechanics would make a lot of sense. Which makes it more likely they'll go the other option: delivering the features that users want to keep them coming back and paying for subscriptions.

I would much rather Tumblr goes for option A than options B or C because it means that Tumblr is more likely to put the user base first when making decisions instead of advertisers. We just need to show them that it's a viable option.

Tumblr is trying what online games have done for years - crabs and checkmarks are the equivalent of horse armour DLCs and cosmetics. They're trying to make the business work through microtransactions. If enough people spend a small amount, it can add up to a large amount of money. The point of crab day is to send a message to Tumblr that option A is viable so that they make the choice to focus on that. If everyone goes, "No, don't spend money on Tumblr, you're nothing compared to advertisers," then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and Tumblr will have to go with options B or C if they want to keep making money.

I'm not giving Tumblr money out of naivety or because I think they're somehow deserving - I'm giving them my money because I would much rather they make money directly from me and give them an incentive to provide features I like, than by making the site worse so that they can exploit me.

#crab day #keep the hellsite for the users

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charliemwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Commission: Bastard's Bishop

Hello, hello!! It's been a minute, hasn't it? Here's a commission I did a couple weeks ago for my dear fishstick! I had a blast writing this and learning more about packers!

Please note that I've included some general content tags, specific warnings for intimacy, and lastly, some notes for terminology used for the reader character, Bishop, and his genitalia. All my love <3

Content: FTM reader, obsessive/possessive behavior, mild harassment, dub-con Dub-Con intimacy: thigh-riding, intercrural, unprotected PIV, semi-public, overstim, praise kink, mild dacryphilia, mild size kink Trans Man Reader terminology: cock/clit semi-interchangeably, cunt, hole, he/him pronouns and endearments, reader has a packer

divider by user: gildui

You narrow your eyes as your back twinges for the third time today, grip tightening on your mop handle.

It’s been like this all week, a tight pinch somewhere between your spine and your right hip. A deep ache that no amount of stretching or heat packs has soothed thanks to the demands of your job. Repeatedly stooping to pick up trash, move furniture, and clean floors tends to undo most of the rest and recovery you achieve in your off hours.

Still, after being out all of last week, your PTO is running a bit thin, and you can’t afford to take more. KorTac’s employment package is good – but not that good.

You pause long enough to take a deep breath, willing the muscles to relax.

The clock on the wall reads late afternoon – not much longer now. Just this last hallway (all admin offices and conference rooms) and you’ll be done. Most of the operators have left already at least. In and out of base early, leaving you to clean up after them, when you’re not at risk of hearing any confidential information.

You’re glad for the solitude today, not quite up for polite half-smiles you sometimes get when you accidentally make eye contact. You’d much rather just put your head down and do your job – the sooner you can crack open that bottle of paracetamol in your locker.

All around, it hasn’t even been a bad day, apart from your sore back. You got in on time, your boss is out with appendicitis, and the bane of your existence hasn’t made an appearance at all this week. Lisa in accounting mentioned he’s away on a mission, so hopefully you won’t have to deal with him for—

“Daydreaming on the job, Schatz?”

You jump at the gruff voice next to your ear, headphones slipping down to your collarbones. A startled curse mangled in your throat as you brain catches up, recognizing the gravel-on-stone accent rumbling too close for comfort.

Already scowling, you turn on your heel, face-to-mask with green netting and broad shoulders.

As always, Krueger’s obscured features bring you up a bit short, mouth popping open for a sharp remark your brain lags to provide. Bastard.

“I’m not daydreaming,” you end up huffing. Try to sound clipped, despite the thumping of your heart, but it comes out sullen. Close enough.

“It is okay, I will not tell anyone,” he leers, “as long as you were daydreaming about me.”

The worst part is that you kind of were. Maybe not the way he means – this time, anyway – but close enough to the truth that you feel your face growing warm despite yourself.

“You’re delusional,” you scoff, turning away. You scrub harder than necessary at the linoleum, trying to work out the frustrating mix of irritation and intrigue that Krueger inspires in you.

As always, he fails to take the hint.

“What, you did not miss me while I was gone?” he mocks.

From the corner of your eye, you can see him shifting closer. Too close. Far past politeness and skirting rude, damn near crowding.

It makes you all too aware of the slight angle you’re bent at, pushing your ass out. Thankfully, the baggy fit of your khakis obscures any suggestive shape, providing modesty you shouldn’t need while doing janitorial work.

“You were gone?” you reply, flat. As if you didn’t feel a conflicted pang in your chest when you realized you’d have a few peaceful, uninterrupted days.

He simpers, “I missed you last week. Where did you go, hm?”

His audacity almost coaxes a disbelieving laugh from your tongue. Intimidating and oddly charismatic as he can be, you’re not about to abide him being so blatantly nosy. You’ve already learned this lesson with Krueger – give an inch and he’ll take miles and miles before you even realize what you’ve done.

That’s how you ended up with him calling you “Schatz” so casually.

“None of your business,” you reply.

“You were sick, no?” he continues as if you haven’t spoken. His voice drops to a near purr, “You should have called, I would take such good care of you, Liebling.”

You stiffen, eyes tellingly wide. How the hell does he know that? And why?

It’s the one question that nips at your mind every time he interacts with you – the why of it all. You don’t get it. He’s one of KorTac’s best soldiers, dangerous and competent and funny for all he’s an arrogant prick. You’ve seen plenty of other KorTac employees flirting and checking him out. He’s not hurting for romantic or sexual prospects.

So why the fuck does he ever spend time on you? Teasing you, baiting you? You, the grumpiest of the janitors with chipped nail polish and the baggy clothes and the giant headphones that practically scream “leave me the fuck alone.” Why does he always seek you out?

You don’t trust the answer. It prods at uncomfortable, hurtful suspicions that you refuse to entertain, so you just try not to think about it at all.

Instead, you feel genuine irritation flare in your chest and clutch onto it, pushing away any fondness-born vulnerability aside. You dunk the mophead hard into the bucket, a soapy droplet landing on his scuffed black boots.

“I don’t need taking care of,” you snip back. “Especially not from you.”

It’s the sharpest you’ve ever been with him.

There’s a single, stony beat where you realize this is not the time or man to let your temper get the better of you.

You can feel his gaze boring into you through the netting. You’ve seen him without it before, know that his eyes are dark as obsidian shards and just as sharp. Can already imagine them narrowed, his jaw tense. You peer at him from the corner of your eye, feel your breath catch when his hand starts to reach for you…

“Hey, Bishop?”

You jolt once again. Know your eyes are way too big when you whip around, looking past Krueger to the doorway. One of your coworkers is there, poking their head around the frame and blissfully oblivious to the… well, to whatever this situation is.

“Would you mind helping me move a shelf? Someone dropped their coffee behind it.”

You damn near fling the mop aside, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you realize just how alone you’ve been with Sebastian Krueger of all people.

“No problem,” you reply, eye twitching when your voice cracks a bit.

You don’t dare glance over your shoulder as you flee like a hunted rabbit. You already know Krueger will be staring after you.

You sigh as you swallow the last of your lukewarm water, easing the paracetamol tabs down your esophagus. Your locker is open just to your right, sparse and bland, but functional. Your casual clothes are waiting, half-folded on the little shelf inside. Mostly clean, still baggy, but a lot more comfortable than your khakis and polo.

Finally, you think, kicking your work shoes off to begin changing.

A flicker of movement is your only warning.

A hand darts past your head, slamming your locker shut with a clang that echoes in the empty lavatory. You yelp and spin around, only to be pushed back against cold, unforgiving metal. Krueger looms over you, nothing but a dark shadow beyond that green netting. Big and intimidating and here.

“What—”

He shushes you, quiet and drawling. Like he’s got all the time in the world. A shiver races down your spine and pools low in your gut.

“You seem to be using your words poorly today, Schatz,” he says, barely more than a rumble in his chest. “Perhaps you should stop using them, hm? Before I find a nicer use for your mouth.”

And you hate that your voice dries up, throat parched despite the half liter you chugged just a moment ago. He plants his other hand beside your head, caging you in. You’re dismayed to realize escape didn’t even occur to you before the option was revoked.

“We are friends, Bishop, no?”

You don’t dare answer. He doesn’t wait for one.

“As your friend, I worry that you work too much. This is why you were sick, you see? It is no good to work so hard all the time. No breaks, no rest.”

He speaks so casually, treating this like a normal conversation with an actual friend. But there’s no missing the edge in his voice, something predatory lurking between consonants and vowels. You heart claws at your ribcage, prey trying to escape a trap it can’t see.

“What is that English saying? ‘All work, no play,’ something like that?” He shrugs, and in doing so, sways closer.

He feels like a furnace without even touching you, making you flushed, sweaty. The scent of gunpowder peppers the heated sliver of air between your bodies, ready to ignite. You try to raise your hands, urge some distance. Overwhelmed by his proximity.

In one swift, yet almost lazy movement, he captures both of your wrists in one big, gloved hand. Pins them firmly over your head. You gasp and try to tug free, to no avail. While not painful, his grip is vicelike, unwavering. Tucking you neatly out of his way.

“Without proper rest, we become mean to our friends.” You shudder as his free hand begins tracing leisurely down your neck, over your bobbing throat. Even with the tactical glove on, his touch is deceptively light, almost ticklish. “You were so mean today, mein Prinz, when I was only trying to be a good friend.”

His fingers trail lower, down to the center of your chest, where he can surely feel your heart pounding. Your breath catches as his attention moves sideways and you realize his goal.

“Kreuger—”

He clicks his tongue as you start to squirm, as much a warning to you as part of his speech.

“Lucky for you, I am a very good friend.”

An embarrassed noise squeaks out of you as his index finger loops around your nipple, already tight and hard against the stiff fabric of your shirt. Little sparks of electricity crackle through your body, lighting up your nerves.

“I will take care of you as I should have when you were ill.”

This is his idea of sick care?! you think frantically, as mean fingers pinch your nipple through your shirt.

Another noise gets caught on the back of your tongue, a high-pitched whimper that you barely manage to swallow down.

“K-Krueger—” you cut yourself off with a whine as his tugs and then releases, swiping his thumb back and forth over the sensitive peak. The friction makes you tender in seconds, knees nearly buckling. “Th-this isn’t funny…”

He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment until you’re throbbing in your boxers. You feel dizzy and needy, horrifically aroused and not even sure if you want to be. Your nipples are going to be sore if he doesn’t stop; they already ache just the way you like but somehow, maddeningly, he never crosses the line into rough.

“I am not laughing,” he replies, dead serious.

You want to say a million different platitudes – all those cheesy lines you usually snort at in romances. Knock it off, this isn’t a joke, you don’t scare me, you can drop the act.

Because you know he won’t, it isn’t, you are, and he’s not.

“Krue – ah!”

“What is my name, Liebling?” he nearly growls. You shudder, ducking your head. But he just follows, the hood brushing your flushed cheek. You’ve never felt more like prey. “You do not call your friends by their last names.”

“S-Sebastian…”

He practically purrs, drawing a heart around your areola with the tip of his thumb. “Good boy.”

You clench around nothing, hole aching, devastatingly empty. Arch into his touch before you realize you’re doing it, needing something, anything.

“You deserve a treat, hm?” he chuckles.

The hand on your chest disappears beneath his hood. Through the weave, you see a flash of white teeth. The rip of Velcro is loud in the otherwise empty locker room. You’re so, so lucky that you waited until the rest of your coworkers went home before changing – you don’t think Krueger would have a problem doing this in front of them…

That train of thought (that definitely doesn’t make your cock pulse) is cut off when Krueger’s hand slithers beneath your shirt. His bare hand.

You moan as his hot, rough palm smooths up your heaving ribs, right back to your sensitized nipples. He twists and pinches and plucks at them, ruthless and relentless. You didn’t think it could get any more intense, but it’s like he’s unravelling your self-control with those clever, cruel fingers. Every bitten off noise and aborted twitch of pleasure just spurs him on, a soldier on a mission.

A particularly sharp squeeze makes your hips jerk, banging back against the metal. You’ve tipped your hand again.

He bullies his thigh between yours and presses it tight against your slick, throbbing core. Your packer presses just right against your clit, sending pleasure rocketing up your spine. There’s no stopping you from rocking down against the thick muscle, chasing after more.

“There we go,” he coos, voice so deep now that it rattles in your cloudy head. “You just needed to be taken care of it, is that it?”

You bite your lip, but it doesn’t stop you from whining, horrified that you’re not more pissed off by his condescending tone. Worse, you’re getting off on it, humping his leg like a horny teenager.

“My sweet little Prinz,” he continues, “mein Shatz. Working so hard all the time.”

You whimper, trembling with the pleasure burning in your veins. Already close, that coil grows tight in your abdomen, pitching your voice up higher and higher, louder and louder. Don’t think you could pull yourself away now even if he let you, too focused on riding his thigh. Just that little bit harder, that little bit faster…

“Are you going to cum for me, Liebling?” he croons. “Do it, show me what a sweet boy you are.”

You fall over the edge with a shout, crumpling against his chest. Shuddering and twitching, panting into his shoulder. It feels like he’s everywhere, all you can see and smell and feel.

“S-stop,” you yelp when he tweaks your oversensitive nipple again. “Too much, Sebastian…”

He tuts sympathetically, giving your side a surprisingly comforting squeeze, before withdrawing his hand from beneath your shirt.

“There, are we feeling like a better friend now?” he hums, lowering your arms.

You take a deep breath, trying to assemble anything like coherent words from the scramble of your brain.

Before you can, the world spins. You blink, staring uncomprehendingly at the flaky grey paint of the locker you were just leaning against.

“Wha…?”

“Time to be a good friend in return, little one.”

You don’t even have a chance to wonder what he means. You can feel him pressing against your lower back, hot and thick and dripping. A pathetic noise eeks out from your throat as you brace your hands against the lockers.

“What are you going to…?”

You gasp again as he jerks your hips back sharply, a big hand between your shoulder blades to keep your chest pressed to the lockers. The cool sensation is heavenly on your sore nipples, but it doesn’t stop the nervous alarms ringing in your mind at the suggestive angle.

He hums, thumb caressing the dimples at the bottom of your spine.

“I have been stressed too, you know. My best friend was mean to me today.”

Your nails scrape against the metal as he tugs your pants and underwear halfway down your slick thighs. He whistles lowly, a satisfied noise in the back of his throat. You glance down and groan in mortification – the fabric of your boxers is absolutely drenched, clinging obscenely to your skin and the ridges of your packer.

“All this for me… such a good little Hase.”

You can tell he’s growing impatient now, though, because he doesn’t waste time teasing. You moan softly as his cock glides between the slick, sticky folds of your cunt. The bulbous tip skates along your own, still twitching with aftershocks and not at all prepared to be touched again so soon.

You whimper and try to jolt away but Krueger’s hands clamp down on your hips and rock you into the cradle of his own. He groans low and rough as he glides through your wetness, arching your spine to give himself a better angle to frot.

“So soft,” he mumbles, “such a good boy for me, I knew you would feel so good. Just had to show you how to behave. Shatz, my Shatz.”

You keen softly, find yourself squeezing your thighs together, giving him a tighter channel to fuck into. He’s so hot against you; you think you can feel drips of precum glossing your cock, the head of his dick catching on your hole when he pulls back too far. It’s tantalizing and thrilling, you don’t know if you want it or not anymore, and justify that he’s holding you too tight to escape anyway.

It shouldn’t be this easy, you think desperately as the flames of a new orgasm ignite from embers of the first. You’re too sensitive, too overstimulated, too—

“You’re going to cum for me again anyway,” he growls, and you realize you’ve been babbling all of that out loud.

Fuck.

It’s not a choice – it never was. He’s going to make you cum again and you’re drooling for it. You loosen your hips and spine, rock freely back into the urging of his hands. His hips pick up speed, settle into a rhythm better than any toy or vibrator you’ve ever played with (always thinking guiltily of him).

The next orgasm practically sneaks up on you. Building up until it’s spilling over all at once, ricocheting through you like a stray bullet. You damn near lock up with the shock and pleasure of it, but Krueger doesn’t let you, rubbing his cock against you until your knees buckle.

“No more games, Liebling,” he snarls.

He practically rips your pants and underwear the rest off the way off, leaving them in a puddle on the ground. A thick arm slithers around your waist, hauls you over to the locker room bench. Krueger drops onto it and drags you into his lap.

You catch yourself on his broad shoulders, staring wide-eyed at his cock jutting proudly between you two. It curves towards his stomach an angry red. Gleaming under the fluorescent lights with your slick, a pearl of it pooled right under the head, oozing down a pulsing vein.

Your mouth waters, but he doesn’t make good on his promise to use your mouth.

Instead, he scoops you up with a hand beneath your ass, the other wrapping around the wide base. Your fingers clench in the fabric of his shirt as you resist, whimpering nervously.

“It’s not going to fit, Sebastian!” you complain.

“It will, it will,” he soothes, “you are a big boy, you can take it…”

It’s not a choice, you think again, as he notches the fat head at your entrance.

You’re in no condition to hold yourself up in defiance. Not at your best, and not now when you’re already shaky and kitten weak on two orgasms, with even a fraction of Krueger’s considerable strength lowering you.

It stings.

You whimper and whine, bowing towards him, trying to relax. He coos and soothes with absent, sugary whispers until the head pops in. With his newly freed hand, he tugs the hood up to his nose and guides you into a wet, filthy kiss. You’re desperate for the distraction, licking the taste of iron and cigarette from his sharp canines.

With you distracted, you don’t notice his hand sneaking down again until his thumb is massaging your clit. You nearly jump out of your skin, only kept in place by his quick reflexes and unyielding strength.

“Hush, little one,” he murmurs against your jaw, “I am helping. Let me play with your pretty cock.”

You moan into his mouth as he works circles into that swollen bundle of nerves. It eases the discomfort of his cock sliding into you until you drop that last, mind-blowing inch and he’s bottomed out.

“Fuck, Schatz,” he groans, head tilting back, mouth parted.

You squeeze around him, so full it feels like he’s in your throat. He’s still rubbing your clit, making your walls pulse around him with every delicious swipe of his thumb.

“Come now, time to bounce, Hase.”

Despite his words, he’s the one bouncing you up and down, your legs barely able to support your weight. You could swear you feel every ridge and vein of the cock stretching you and it’s too much for your fucked out brain. All you can do is hold onto him, tears pricking your eyes. You’re not even upset when you feel his tongue licking them from your cheeks, can only shove your tongue in his mouth to get a taste.

He twitches up to meet your hips on the next thrust and you go cross-eyed at the angle – too good too goodtoogood.

You’re begging and whining, completely gone on ecstasy, grinding down on his lap every time you drop down. It’s loud and wet, something out of your dirtiest dreams. He’s fucking against your g-spot, bullying it, abusing it, and you can’t get enough, rolling your hips with each movement.

“I-I’m gonna, I’m gonna—”

“Milk my cock, scream for me, that’s it.”

And you do, shuddering and squeezing so tight around him that he makes a rough, punched out noise. He doesn’t stop as wave after wave washes over you, until you finally wail his name and go limp. Buried deep inside you, he cums without remorse in long, hot spurts against your walls.

In the aftermath, you’re panting and sweaty. Utterly ruined. Brain not quite online due to three back-to-back orgasms from a man who could probably kill you with two fingers. He’s mumbling in your ear, stroking your back. It’s almost pleasant. Maybe he isn’t so bad…

“Now, then. We will go to dinner like a proper couple.”

What happened to being friends?!

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #cod krueger #ftm reader #heavy kink #dub con #commissioned work

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feroluce · 4 months ago

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Oh my gosh the way the Pop-Up Shop event ended and what it hinted at that's going on rn, and what it might imply about what's in store for the next time we see Sampo, I'm so excited AAAAAAA

Because it seems it really IS our Sampo, and whereas before I was absolutely delighted by the thought that he was possibly getting fucked with by some outside influence, and that was why he was saying such strange things... There's nothing quite like that going on here. There's no memetic virus messing with his head. There's no imposter, no possession, no nothing.

Just Sampo, and the ominous, all-consuming dread that hangs over his head like a guillotine, as he willingly walks right into what he is sure is a trap. ♡

Because this event was weird right off the bat, yeah? Sampo invites us in on a business deal that won't make him any money? The hell???

And I was just waiting on pins and needles for it to make sense, and oh, I was not disappointed at all. Because I've got a nice meta post about it over here, but Sampo actually DOESN'T make a lot of money most of the time- but he does always get something out of his dealings. He works for favors and good will and networking, but never for nothing. And it was the same here!

Sampo didn't make any money with this little business venture because that wasn't what he needed from it. That was never his goal to begin with. He just needed something entertaining.

Sampo has the key to get into the tavern's basement where Sparkle has been keeping his mask for him, but he still needs to be let into the front door of the tavern itself. The fun stories he got from this event were his entry fee. He leaves at the end because he's probably already on his way to Epsilon, where the World's End Tavern should be.

So that explains part of what was so strange this event. It's the rest of his ooc tendencies that have me like foaming at the mouth though because AAAAAAAAAA

There's long been hints of...some? kind of strain between Sampo and the rest of the Masked Fools. Like it starts all the way back in Belobog's main quest with the big infamous fourth-wall breaking sequence, where Sampo talks some shit.

And it continues in the Aetherium Wars event, where we finally get the confirmation that Sampo is a Masked Fool and even get to see him interact with Giovanni, one of his brethren! And where Sampo talks more shit. He also leaves the trailblazer a warning against Sparkle, who they hadn't met yet, and probably the Masked Fools in general.

And for some strange reason, it seems to be popular fanon that Sampo like. Talks a lot of shit? Or is rude in general? Like I feel like I see a lot of jokes about if Hook says a cuss word, it was probably his fault. But Sampo is actually pretty polite with everyone. I think the only time we really see him be harsh is when he has to set some hard boundaries in the museum event. Otherwise, he conducts himself like a model friendly businessman. Like he IS super shady and slimy, but he's still polite about it. I'm pretty sure the only time he actually talks any shit, and so bluntly, is about the Masked Fools or Epsilon as a whole. He really seems to have some sort of beef with them.

There's also his hilarious relationship with Sparkle, which I'm including for consideration because we don't know how common people like her are in the Masked Fools, so she might represent how Sampo interacts with a lot of them. ...But I'm pretty sure Sampo's grudge with her runs deeper than that anyway jdksajfdkljas

She's so funny I hope she fucks with him more FJDKSJAKD

Anyway, the point is, Sampo doesn't seem to see eye-to-eye with a lot of the rest of Aha's followers. And it was never hinted at before the pop-up shop event, but now I'm wondering if it might be like. An actual dangerous sort of situation.

Because during those brief packaging sequences, you get some. Pretty wild text dropped on you. There was actually a really cool explanation for it by another user already! But basically, all of the phrases are more fourth-wall breakage. They're mostly in-game achievements...except for one.

"This must be a trap create"

We never get to see the rest of the phrase. Just "This must be a trap create."

That is the only one we don't have an explanation for yet, at least as far as I know.

AN EDIT: Thank you to @/kittaykattz for this one, because it looks like someone DID find the source of this line. Unfortunately, it only came up in my search after I looked for the full phrase. I couldn't find it on the wiki before orz And yet this somehow does NOT make it any less ominous ajfdklsjkl The full phrase is "This must be a trap created by a Masked Fool!" and it comes from another in-game achievement, "Boxes and Ladders." Which is really cool, because I had figured the last line must be something from Penacony, since it was the only area not represented so far. So in that way, it fits perfectly with the rest of the text. Now we have one achievement from every area of the game, which fits with the theme that Sampo has been following the Astral Express, the trailblazer specifically. It's the way that it doesn't fit that's the weird part though. Because the rest of the lines that come from in-game achievements are all titles; that's why they were so much easier to find. For some reason, Hoyo saw fit to single this one out. They didn't use a title. They specifically chose the line about falling into a trap set by a Masked Fool, a trap with seemingly no way out, where one's only choice is to take a leap of faith and pray to make it out ok in the end.

Love that. Absolutely love that. That's so fucking tasty, I will be daydreaming for days on end now about Sampo finding himself in a horrible situation with no way out where all he can do is make a desperate attempt and pray to whatever might listen (probably not Aha fjaksljdk) that he'll survive it WHEEEEEE

Because Sampo talks so strangely throughout the whole event, but it gets worse day by day, morose and morbid and dreading and sometimes even almost like he's warning the trailblazer against something about to happen.

I've already lovingly discussed it in an analysis about Sampo's name (alias included) but like. There certainly are some fun connections there. The Sampo of myth was smashed and lost to the sea. Poisson was flooded. Brueghel died suddenly and left a final painting of a storm at sea unfinished.

The Masked Fools are referred to with imagery of water and the sea. And frequently so.

And so I do wonder what Sampo knows, and what he's expecting to happen when he gets to that tavern at the end of the world. If maybe he thinks he's walking right into a trap, and is doing it willingly, doing it anyway, because, well.

Belobog is on the line.

And Sampo has already proven he seems so ready to do whatever it takes to protect it.

#DEATH FLAGS AHOY WOOHOO #I HOPE WE GET TO SEE HIM GET FUCKED UP SO BAD YAY #honkai star rail #honkai star rail sampo #hsr sampo #hsr #sampo koski

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faiszt · 3 months ago

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𝅭⠀sire’s lover⠀.⠀cate dunlap⠀૮⠀what were vows of eternal love if not something that humans failed to keep? cate never needed that, her vow of eternal love was to transform you into the little monster she wanted. hers and hers alone, she's your sire, connected by blood and you'll never escape from her again.⠀♡ female user!

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𝅭⠀old days, same love⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀he couldn't escape his own mind, but for a long time you were the only relief he had, ironic that you were wheezie's babysitter—but, you left in the end, like everyone else. maybe, if he wasn't such an idiot you'd come back and he could tell you everything he wanted.⠀♡ female user!

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renubresearch · 9 months ago

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Paper Packaging Market will be US$ 541.0 Billion by 2032

The paper packaging market is expected to grow significantly over the next few years, driven by various factors such as increasing awareness of environmental issues, technological advancements, and government regulations promoting sustainable packaging options. Here is a comprehensive analysis of the paper packaging market, including its size, growth, and trends: Market Size and Growth Renub…

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#global paper packaging market #paper packaging market #paper packaging market by end user #paper packaging market by product type #paper packaging market report #paper packaging market share #paper packaging market size

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brandinotbroke · 1 month ago

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Linux distros - what is the difference, which one should I choose?

Caution, VERY long post.

With more and more simmers looking into linux lately, I've been seeing the same questions over and over again: Which distro should I choose? Is distro xyz newbie-friendly? Does this program work on that distro?

So I thought I'd explain the concept of "distros" and clear some of that up.

What are the key differences between distros?

Linux distros are NOT different operating systems (they're all still linux!) and the differences between them aren't actually as big as you think.

Update philosophy: Some distros, like Ubuntu, (supposedly) focus more on stability than being up-to-date. These distros will release one big update once every year or every other year and they are thoroughly tested. However, because the updates are so huge, they inevitably tend to break stuff anyway. On the other end of the spectrum are so-called "rolling release" distros like Arch. They don't do big annual updates, but instead release smaller updates very frequently. They are what's called "bleeding edge" - if there is something new out there, they will be the first ones to get it. This can of course impact stability, but on the other hand, stuff gets improved and fixed very fast. Third, there are also "middle of the road" distros like Fedora, which kind of do... both. Fedora gets big version updates like Ubuntu, but they happen more frequently and are comparably smaller, thus being both stable and reasonably up-to-date.

Package manager: Different distros come with different package managers (APT on ubuntu, DNF on Fedora, etc.). Package managers keep track of all the installed programs on your PC and allow you to update/install/remove programs. You'll often work with the package manager in the terminal: For example, if you want to install lutris on Fedora, you'd type in "sudo dnf install lutris" ("sudo" stands for "super user do", it's the equivalent of administrator rights on Windows). Different package managers come with different pros and cons.

Core utilities and programs: 99% of distros use the same stuff in the background (you don’t even directly interact with it, e.g. background process managing). The 1% that do NOT use the same stuff are obscure distros like VoidLinux, Artix, Alpine, Gentoo, Devuan. If you are not a Linux expert, AVOID THOSE AT ALL COST.

Installation process: Some distros are easier to install than others. Arch is infamous for being a bit difficult to install, but at the same time, its documentation is unparalleled. If you have patience and good reading comprehension, installing arch would literally teach you all you ever need to know about Linux. If you want to go an easier and safer route for now, anything with an installer like Mint or Fedora would suit you better.

Community: Pick a distro with an active community and lots of good documentation! You’ll need help. If you are looking at derivatives (e.g. ZorinOS, which is based on Ubuntu which is based on Debian), ask yourself: Does this derivative give you enough benefits to potentially give up community support of the larger distro it is based on? Usually, the answer is no.

Okay, but what EDITION of this distro should I choose?

"Editions" or “spins” usually refer to variations of the same distro with different desktop environments. The three most common ones you should know are GNOME, KDE Plasma and Cinnamon.

GNOME's UI is more similar to MacOS, but not exactly the same.

KDE Plasma looks and feels a lot like Windows' UI, but with more customization options.

Cinnamon is also pretty windows-y, but more restricted in terms of customization and generally deemed to be "stuck in 2010".

Mint vs. Pop!_OS vs. Fedora

Currently, the most popular distros within the Sims community seem to be Mint and Fedora (and Pop!_OS to some extent). They are praised for being "beginner friendly". So what's the difference between them?

Both Mint and Pop!_OS are based on Ubuntu, whereas Fedora is a "standalone" upstream distro, meaning it is not based on another distro.

Personally, I recommend Fedora over Mint and Pop!_OS for several reasons. To name only a few:

I mentioned above that Ubuntu's update philosophy tends to break things once a big update rolls around every two years. Since both Mint and Pop!_OS are based on Ubuntu, they are also affected by this.

Ubuntu, Mint and Pop!_OS like to modify their stuff regularly for theming/branding purposes, but this ALSO tends to break things. It is apparently so bad that there is an initiative to stop this.

Pop!_OS uses the GNOME desktop environment, which I would not recommend if you are switching from Windows. Mint offers Cinnamon, which is visually and technically outdated (they use the x11 windowing system standard from 1984), but still beloved by a lot of people. Fedora offers the more modern KDE Plasma.

Personal observation: Most simmers I've encountered who had severe issues with setting up Linux went with an Ubuntu-based distro. There's just something about it that's fucked up, man.

And this doesn't even get into the whole Snaps vs. Flatpak controvery, but I will skip this for brevity.

Does SimPE (or any other program) work on this distro?

If it works on Fedora, then it works on Mint/Ubuntu/Arch/etc., and vice versa. This is all just a question of having the necessary dependencies installed and installing the program itself properly. Some distros may have certain prerequisites pre-installed, while others don't, but you can always just install those yourself. Like I said, different distros are NOT different operating systems. It's all still Linux and you can ultimately customize it however you want.

In short: Yeah, all Sims 2-related programs work. Yes, ReShade too. It ultimately doesn't really matter what distro you use as long as it is not part of the obscure 1% I mentioned above.

A little piece of advice

Whatever distro you end up choosing: get used to googling stuff and practice reading comprehension! There are numerous forums, discord servers and subreddits where you can ask people for help. Generally speaking, the linux community is very open to helping newbies. HOWEVER, they are not as tolerant to nagging and laziness as the Sims community tends to be. Show initiative, use google search & common sense, try things out before screaming for help and be detailed and respectful when explaining your problems. They appreciate that. Also, use the arch wiki even if you do not use Arch Linux – most of it is applicable to other distros as well.

#simming on linux #bnb.txt #if anyone wants to use this as a base for a video feel free #i don't feel like like recording and editing lol

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msschemmenti · 4 months ago

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girl next door 🏠- 2

jemily x reader

a/n: chapter two! i’m also posting this on ao3 under my user over there (eternaldulcet) :)

DC was turning out to be a rather enjoyable living experience for y/n. She’d finished unpacking within her first week and now was just settling into her new life. With June becoming July, the heat was high, but nothing compared to the summers down south she’d grown up in. She was rolling through all of her onboarding at the college and when she wasn’t on the campus, she was exploring DC. She’d seen the staples– the White House, Lincoln Memorial, and all that political jazz. But she’d found some real gems on her commute to work and back.

Aside from all the architectural and historical sites she’s seen, she really can’t express how enjoyable DC has been without acknowledging the gift that is Jennifer Jareau sprinting through the neighborhood. That first morning really had been a surprise, a beautiful, wonderful surprise! One that she very seldom missed now. Their schedules seemed to match in the sense that whenever JJ was out on her morning run, y/n was sitting on her porch swing nursing a cup of coffee. Or she’d made it part of her schedule. Not consciously but why change it now?

For the first week or so, they’d exchange a smile and wave and continue on their day. JJ headed for the stop sign at the top of the hill and y/n returned to her house. But one morning JJ switched it up a bit and detoured up y/n’s drive with a smile. She pulled her earbud out and smiled up at y/n, “Good morning neighbor.”

y/n pulled her eyes away from JJ’s sculpted stomach and met her eyes with a sheepish smile of her own. “Good morning indeed!” she nervously replied, pulling the mug of coffee closer to her chest.

JJ’s smiled quickly turned into a smirk and she leaned back in a stretch, one she knew highlighted all the physical features she worked so hard to maintain. “I see you’re an early riser like me.”

“Mmhmm, I sure do love the morning.” y/n nodded, distracted as all get-out. Hearing JJ’s pleased chuckle, y/n scrambled to sound more intelligent than she had initially. “I mean, I’ve really been enjoying the DC mornings. Plus once classes start I’ll be getting up this early anyway.”

JJ nodded, switching to a deep lunge, “Right, Em and I were wondering if you had started yet.”

“I’ve done all my onboarding with HR, so now it’s just meeting with my department chair and things like that. Classes start mid-August, so I’m soaking up my last real moments of freedom this month.” y/n explained around her mug.

“Gotcha, calm before the storm.” JJ smiled standing to her full height again, catching y/n’s wandering eyes. “Well let us know if you need anything before then. I’m not sure how much help we’ll be but we’re here either way.” They bid each other adieu and they part ways. From then on, if Emily and JJ are in town– it becomes a routine. JJ runs, y/n gawks, they talk, and part ways.

Emily, not exactly having the desire to wake early, catches y/n much later in the day. They too had developed a sort of neighborly wave routine, usually as Emily backs out of her driveway or the rare occasions that she and JJ make it home before dark. It was one of those days that she caught y/n struggling with a package that had been left at her mailbox. JJ’d left something in the car and sent Emily out to retrieve it, but she was complaining far less when she caught sight of the struggling younger woman.

Hurrying down the sidewalk she chuckled and swooped in to lift the other end of the box, “Let me help you with that.”

y/n sighed in relief as some of the pressure eased from her back, “oh thank god. I never did learn how to lift with my legs.” They side stepped their way up to the house and over the steps and with a bit of maneuvering got the package inside.

“where do you want it?” emily asked as they paused in the mud room.

“i’m pretty sure this is my bookshelf for my studio, so probably in there. i’ll lead.” y/n said studying the box before steering them both to the back of her house.

all the houses on the block basically have the same layout— so it wasn’t that surprising to see y/n was using this room as a work space considering jj and emily had done the same. what was surprising was the stark contrast to their office. they’d prioritized functionality and necessity in their space. walls were bare and the two desks took up most of the room. but y/n’s studio was way different. one corner was set up like a recording booth— walls covered in soundproofing foam and various microphones. a piano sat in the center of the room paper spread across the top of it. and the rest of the room held books piled high on the floor, different chairs.

“i can see why you need the bookshelf.” emily teased as they lowered the box to the floor near the books.

y/n chuckled and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “yeah, don’t judge me. after i left my last school— i may have done a little shopping in my colleague’s offices. you can never have too much literature. plus i’ve got to build up my repertoire for students.”

“no judgment at all! i’ve got my fair share of books lining our office as well. most of my mine aren’t work related though. but i didn’t realize there was so much reading involved in vocal music.”

“oh yeah, everyone feels important enough to publish. somethings work and others don’t. i just try to know as much as i can.” y/n shrugged, moving to straighten the pages on the piano. “if you’re not reading the david rossi profiling collection, what are you reading?”

emily laughed outright, “oh those are on our shelves, i tend to read classics from all over the world. i like to practice the languages i don’t get to use as often.”

“a linguist,” y/n hummed as she smiled over her shoulder at emily.

“something like that,” emily said bashfully before deflecting. “what do you know about david rossi? that’s a pretty crazy name to pull out of thin air.”

y/n giggled with a shrug, “i did some research after you guys left. i was curious about the world of profiling and he has like a million books about it.”

emily laughed and nodded, “yeah, that’s rossi for you.”

y/n’s eyes widened a bit as she turned and leaned against the piano, “you know him personally?”

“oh yeah, he works with us. trust me, he gifts us all signed copies of his million books for every holiday.”

“well i’ve heard of tootin your own horn, but seems he’s taken that saying to a whole new level.” y/n shook her head. “well thank you so much for your help. i guess we can add that to my running list of reasons why having federal agents as neighbors is amazing.”

emily’s brow rose and she followed behind y/n back through the house. “a running list you say?”

“oh yeah, cataloging all the perks. top of the list— strong brunettes come to my rescue when lifting heavy packages.”

“always at your service. let us know if you need help building it. jj’s got a knack for all that diy home stuff.” emily saluted as she stepped out of the front door.

“you’ll be my first call.” y/n winked and waved goodbye.

“grayson, shut up! there’s no way you said that to him.” y/n gasped down the phone.

“why yes, i absolutely did. i think he was so shocked he short circuited.” grayson laughed.

y/n shook her head and wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder. she’d been working in the kitchen for the evening having caught the sudden craving for an apple pie. grayson had called right in the middle of her pulling the pie out and there really was no way to ignore gossip from her old office.

“well what did the rest of the team say?” y/n asked as she slid the pie out of the oven and onto a cooling rack.

“oh you know how they get. yasmine asked 100 questions, alice and rita giggled quietly. while the rest just looked around. god the office is not the same without you!” grayson whined.

y/n laughed and opened the kitchen window to air out the kitchen and the pie. “i know i know. im sure everyone is happy that we’re not there terrorizing everyone together anymore. but gray— you can’t say stuff like that during departmental meetings. bless his heart, you know javier is a power hungry asshole who does not take well to women questioning his decisions.”

“yeah yeah yeah— i’m just so sick of him making it harder for our music department to keep any majors. you know he plays favorites.”

y/n went to reply when a blonde head of hair caught her attention right outside her window, where her pie was cooling. she peered down and met jj’s bright blue eyes. she had a soccer ball at her feet and her hands on her hips. y/n’s quirked in a curious smile and she held up a finger for the older woman to wait while she opened the back door. “well you know that’s part of the reason i left anyway. he’s too big for his britches and nobody’s brave enough to tell him as much.”

y/n ushered jj in while she listened, “he keeps calling this meetings before classes start and trust, i’ll be telling him more than just that.”

“ah now you hush, you will do no such thing. go sit down somewhere and calm down. you know as well as i do, he’s like a dog on linoleum. all talk with that one.” y/n shook her head and blushed at the amusement on jj’s face. “listen grayson, let me let you go. my pie is done and i need both hands. we’ll talk next week, okay? alright bye.”

y/n pulled the phone from her ear and hung up with a sheepish smile, “sorry bout that, we always pick up for office gossip.”

jj shook her head and leaned against the kitchen island with a smile “you really are from the south,” she laughed.

“oh boy, what’s that supposed to mean?” y/n watched as jj laughed. her abs flexing just slightly through her tank top.

“i don’t think i understood half of what you were saying. oh and your accent— gets pretty thick when you’re speaking so passionately.” jj grinned.

“oh if you ever catch me drunk it’s waaaay stronger. but i’ll give you that, between Georgia and Kentucky I've definitely picked up some pretty interesting sayings over my life.”

“i bet, my grandparents had their little farm sayings in Pennsylvania but nothing as interesting as what i just heard.”

“well did you come over to eavesdrop or was there something else on your mind?” y/n teased as she moved to check on the pie in the window.

“well i was kicking the ball around out back when i suddenly smelled something very delicious coming from your yard. and i just had to check it out. the eavesdropping part was a happy accident.” jj smiled coming to peak over y/n’s shoulder at the pie.

“well i guess you’re in luck then, it has about 10 more minutes to cool.” y/n smiled pointed to the freezer. “if you’ll grab the ice cream out of the freezer, i’ll give you a piece.”

“you don’t to ask me twice.” jj nodded and pulled the vanilla ice cream out. y/n nodded in thanks and invited jj to have a seat at one of the island stools. as soon as jj took purchase on the stool both women heard a knock on the younger woman’s front door. y/n looked a little confused but jj waved her off and headed for the door. “it’s probably emily, i kinda just disappeared from the backyard at the smell of pie.”

y/n giggled and nodded and watched from the kitchen as the blonde ushered emily inside, “i should’ve known you’d end up over here somehow.”

“there’s pie over here. can you truly blame me?” jj shrugged, poking emily’s hip affectionately as they both made their way to the kitchen island and y/n.

“well i would’ve yes had you come back with no pie for me.” emily grumbled.

“don’t worry— i would’ve made sure you had a slice.” y/n winked at the older woman. “you know what they say, happy neighbor happy life.”

emily eyebrows furrow in confusion, “who’s says that? i thought it was happy wife happy life.”

“is that another southern saying we don’t know?” jj teased.

“no, i just think neighbors should also be happy. i figure you take care of the wife part anyways.” y/n shrugged, subtly eyeing the women for reactions to her words. she was pretty positive the women weren’t just roommates but she wanted to confirm. that way maybe her brain would start supplying a little guilt when she found herself damn near drooling over one or both of her neighbors.

jj and emily, laughed and nodded in understanding, but almost instantly peeped the younger woman’s intentions. “oh yeah we’re strong proponents of the happy wife lifestyle.“ emily nodded. y/n smiled. taking that confirmation for what she thought it was. no chance babe.

but the jj spoke, “but you’re absolutely right— neighbors should also be happy. i’m sure we can make both happen.”

#emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily #jemily x reader #gnd series #msschemmenti

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teaandjumpers · 21 days ago

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Occasion (obikin ficlet)

Summary: Obi-Wan gives Anakin a gift. Rated G. - - - -

“I thought we agreed you’d wear goggles at the workstation,” said Obi-Wan, sidling up to stand beside Anakin at his workbench.

The younger man was hunched over the table, soldering something, his face too close to the tool to be considered safe.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t creep up on me like that,” said Anakin, not bothering to glance his way.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, leaning against the workbench. He had broadcast his approach through the Force, and he knew Anakin was aware of his presence, the younger man sending him a slightly annoyed ping across their bond.

Anakin was often hard to reach when he was working on a project, immersing himself completely in a task and finding it difficult to refocus when he was interrupted.

He felt bad for a moment, but he had a good reason for disrupting his former Padawan.

“I have something for you,” he said, keeping his voice light.

Anakin’s head shot up at the words, his shoulder-length hair whipping about him.

Oh, how he’d grown into those curls. When he had first started growing his hair out, the dark, golden strands beginning to coil near the ends, Obi-Wan knew that his soft-eyed Padawan was going to be a heartbreaker.

He just didn’t realize it would be his heart Anakin would be breaking. What a cruel fate to fall for your former Padawan. And a crueler fate to have half the galaxy fall along with you.

Obi-Wan had done all he could to rid himself of his feelings—the attraction, at least.

He had given up on not loving Anakin long ago, maybe even as early as that day on Naboo, standing beside his new apprentice, the young boy having been through so much already, standing tall alongside him as an entire planet cheered them on.

He had asked Yoda once, years before Qui-Gon took him on, what it was like for a Master and Apprentice, what shape a bond took.

“Different every Master and Padawan relationship is. Find your way there perhaps one day you will.”

And find his way he had. Or rather, it had found him.

He had loved his Master dearly, his Master’s presence in the Force always grounding, a warm fire that made him feel forever safe, like nothing bad could ever truly happen.

But Anakin—Anakin was like a supernova, an unending, thunderous storm, a screaming bright star that was impossible to ignore.

In those early years, he thought of little else but Anakin, his welfare and whereabouts.

Had his own Master woken repeatedly in the middle of the night, sheets drenched, a blind panic thundering against his chest as he searched the Force for his Padawan’s location?

Anakin had always been close. Almost always safe. And though Obi-Wan felt him in the Force, he always had to check, confirm it with his eyes, that Anakin was alive, healthy, there.

He was eternally grateful that his apprentice was strong in the Force. It meant Obi-Wan would never have to confront who he would be, who he would become if his Padawan was ever in any real danger.

Standing beside Anakin now, perhaps one of the strongest Force users in the galaxy, he felt silly, wondering if it was too late to take back his words. Wondering if the younger man had seen the small bundle he was clutching in his right hand.

Of course he had.

Obi-Wan wordlessly handed the package over, watching with some trepidation as Anakin untied the string holding the linen fabric in place.

The cloth fell away to reveal a model ship. It was still grimy despite Obi-Wan’s best efforts to clean the thing, the ship’s insect-like design making it difficult to thoroughly clean its delicate, spindly limbs.

He had bought the toy on a recent mission, passing by a storefront on a mid-rim planet where a child who looked remarkably like a 10-year old Anakin from behind had stopped him in his tracks, the young boy’s palms pressed against the smudged window pane as he gazed at the model ships neatly displayed on the other side.

How many times had a similar scene played out with Anakin, his Padawan’s gaze straying, fixing on a toy he would never have.

“It’s a Jedi Vector ship,” said Obi-Wan, the words clumsy on his tongue. “It was a High—”

“A High Republic ship,” finished Anakin, turning the model over in his hands, smiling as he did so. “I know.”

Anakin smiled up at him sweetly, and if Obi-Wan didn’t know the man, if there had been no planet-wide history between them, he would have grabbed him by the face and kissed him.

A ‘pathetic life form’ he had called him once. Anakin would have been a complete stranger in a different life, a speck of sand in a large desert of people who deserved better.

It was selfish, and very un-Jedi-like, but Obi-Wan was grateful that Anakin’s fate had been different.

“But what’s the occasion?” asked Anakin, still smiling, still looking up at him, still, somehow, every bit as spirited as he was before the war.

The occasion, thought Obi-Wan. The occasion was every occasion, every year, every month, every day, every breath the Force sought fit to gift him, here, alongside Anakin.

But he simply said—

“You are.”

#obikin ficlet #obikin #obikin fic #my fic #wrote this instead of watching the superbowl #already posted on ao3 but wanted to share here

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navstuffs · 9 months ago

Text

Synesthesia

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

Summary: "A condition in which stimulation of one sense generates a simultaneous sensation in another". Or aka the fic where Gojo Satoru fucks you inside his domain expansion.

Trigger Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!, SMUT, tiny squint of dubcon (reader goes mind blank inside the domain), creampie, multiple powerful orgasms, reader gender isn't mentioned

Author's Notes: probably the hardest smut i have ever written. idk how many times this has been done in the fandom (im sure tons) and one time i read this INSANELY good fic abt it and have never found it again. anyway, enjoy! credit on the images from this post right here.

other gojo fics

An average person will feel many sensations in this world, either physically and/or spiritually (if you believe in that type of stuff). Before meeting Gojo Satoru, your emotions were still there to remind you, hey, you are human: come and feel us; you can't stop us.

Everything changed after you met Satoru.

Gojo Satoru wasn't normal. Even in your first meeting, even without being a cursed user, you could tell something was off about him in the best way possible. The white hair, the ethereal blue eyes behind the sunglasses, or the fact that he consumed sweets as someone should be consuming water. Even your concerns about diabetes didn't feel necessary with this man.

And then you started dating him. Yes, you, the average human being of this world, the single person in the million of eight billion or more. And he chose you, fell for you, for some crazy idea in his head. You became his new drug in the best way possible. Gojo Satoru could never have had enough of you.

The kisses were intoxicating, and his neediness was that of someone who could not hear the word "no." Satoru would pout like a child, his head down enough that you could see his eyes shining through his sunglasses. And you would say "yes" as if only that vision persuaded you (it was your heart speaking).

Now, fucking Gojo Satoru, that was on a whole new level. At this point, you knew of the curses, the Jujutsu world, and the fact that somehow you are dating the strongest of that universe (?!). Fucking Gojo Satoru was not like fucking your other lovers. Satoru was entirely in during sex. As in head, soul, mind, the total package deal. And it was only fair you gave him the same.

-x-

"What would happen to normal humans inside your domain expansion?"

The question is met with curiosity by Gojo, who is wearing his black bandana today. He ponders for a moment, one finger toward his chin (because you said once he looked cute doing it, and he does it every time now). "They probably wouldn't be able to see it. Just feel it."

"Could it be considered safe?"

"Mhmmm, let me think. For some milliseconds. Why?"

"Nothing."

Oh, but Satoru had already perceived your interest. Your eyes did not meet his, and you tried to look away, embarrassed. His smile grew from his side lips until Satoru questioned, his voice low, " Is there anything I should know of?"

"You promise you won't laugh?"

-x-

That's how you end up on top of him, his dick buried deep inside your body. It is already overwhelming, suffocating almost, the air being pulled from your lungs every time your hips meet his, and you weren't even inside his domain yet. Satoru insisted on starting slowly for your safety: 0.1, 0.2 seconds max, according to his estimation.

"Now?"

"Are you close?" You shake your head impatiently, furrowing your brows. "Didn't think so."

Differing from all the other nights, you sense Satoru's tension. He can't relax, not even without you moaning in his ear. It's not that Satoru believes he will hurt you; Satoru has to consider the slight possibility of what could happen if he lost control for a tiny second and ended up frying your brain on accident.

"'Toru. Focus on me." You demand, squeezing his nipple so he can come back to you.

Satoru reacts: he starts rubbing in between in the middle of your legs, stroking your sex in a way only he knew how to do, after weeks of studying your reactions every time you had sex. In less than two weeks, the prick had learned places you haven't even discovered yet. It had to be six eyes, giving your body away like that. Biting where the neck meets your shoulder together with a particular way of fucking you and hitting on the place that made you see stars could make you cum in minutes. You are thankful he is the strongest because Satoru had ruined you for any other person who existed.

"Focus, honey." His voice is steady, his chest heaving up and down.

If someone asked you how a mere mortal felt bringing God to his knees, you would know exactly how to explain. That's exactly how you felt fucking Satoru. Like now, with his hands on your hips, helping you sink inside further every time, your open palms resting on his chest for support. It feels powerful and mythical; his mouth parted away like that, licking his lips from time to time. Satoru is a proud moaner, loud and about - but for this time, his forehead is furrowed in concentration, and barely any noises are coming from him. If it were any other time, Satoru would have helped you or taken control when it had gotten too much for his small patience to handle, moving his hips until you were a blabbering mess.

But now, he has to be focused on not harming you. The situation is even more thrilling if you think like that. Bring a God to his knees because if you don't, he might kill you with his power.

"Satoru!" You moan, needy. A warning that you are getting close.

His white hands raise, and you watch (as always) fascinated as the bandana comes off, even forgetting about your looming orgasm. Gojo Satoru is the most attractive man you have ever seen in your entire life, and if you believe in reincarnation, about ten more lives. He has a smirk on his lips now, happy with the way he affects you. I mean, how couldn't he?

"Domain expansion, Unlimited Void."

Everything stops. The air stops moving, and time stops. You are paralyzed, your eyes wide, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. Your mind goes blank in the total sense of that word; you can't form a single thought. You forget your name, can't remember your parents' names, or where you were born, what you do.

At the same time, everything is being shown to you; your consciousness is there, floating lost in the sky, but you can't grasp it. The only thing you can feel is your orgasm, but even that feels like it has toned down, a small explosion the size of a jelly bean growing inside your stomach.

The next thing you know, you wake up in Satoru's arms, gasping for air, shaking, with tears coming down your eyes. You can't stop squirming, and you realize it is your orgasm, with so much energy that could light up an entire city, spreading in your veins and going back into your brain at a swift speed, amplifying your senses. Then you find yourself staring at Satoru's blue eyes, and your mind goes blank again, but not like when you were inside the Unlimited Void. No, now you can feel everything: Satoru's love, Satoru's shooting his cum inside of you, Satoru's hand gripping your hips, the scream coming out of your throat!

Satoru is murmuring something, praising you, saying he loves you, but you pass out again, and the entire world goes black. Satoru holds you, feeling your heartbeat, not placing his bandana on his eyes, your body twitching unconsciously.

You return to him after a few minutes - if anyone asked Gojo, precisely two minutes, twenty seconds, two exact milliseconds, almost three.

"'Toru?" Your voice sounds exhausted, grateful, and in disbelief all at the same time.

"I'm here, honey. I'm here. You are okay." He kisses your forehead, holding you tightly in his arms, still buried deep inside you.

Later, when you ask, Satoru will answer that he had felt your orgasm within you. He had never seen you so out of this world, literally dumbfucked. He won't confess he got worried for a second and ended up placing you inside his domain for ONLY one millisecond. You also won't confess yet that you wanted to try again, up to 0.3 seconds (normal humans wouldn't survive), but who cares? You want Satoru to fry your brain. Instead, you will roll your eyes at his answer, slapping his arm playfully, and he won't even turn infinite on because it is you. And who is he to ever deny you? You who finally made his life whole.

You that had a God wrapped around your finger.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fanfic #satoru gojo fanfic #satoru smut

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