#even though they have no respect for it!!! i think i’ve had more men suggest to me when i’ve labeled myself as lesbian | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mulloey · 6 days ago

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hunted • yunho

it’s all a game, he says. you’re desperate to play.

yunho x fem!reader

words: 4.7k

warnings: extremely dark kinks, heavy consensual non consent (cnc), dubcon at some points though you have a safeword, internet hookups (don’t), unprotected sex (don’t), the word ‘rape’ is used, hard dom!yunho, fear play, glove kink, choking, impact play, knife play, under-negotiated kink, size kink, painful sex, sir kink, you’re referred to within the scene as a victim and a sex slave, explicit threats of bodily harm and death in the context of cnc, mind break possibly, aftercare, crying etc

you’ve been appropriately warned of the content ahead. click out if you are uncomfortable. this is not safe to do irl. hate is blocked.

You don’t know where else to turn.

It’s been on your mind for a while— this fantasy. This game. You don’t know why, or how, and you’d never, ever admit it, but it plagues your thoughts, day after day, haunting your dreams night after night without respite. You’re too ashamed to even say it.

You never told any of your previous partners; you’d hint, maybe, suggesting weaker, milder things to nudge them the right direction, but they always shied away, got scared about three miles south of what you actually wanted, and ran screaming. You know it’s wrong. If anything, the fact that they ran away should have been a green flag. But it wasn’t. Not to you.

You make the account around 3am. Your username is nondescript, profile photo grainy and blurred, showing just enough to attract someone who might be able to do this for you. You write the post with trembling hands; the words come easier to you than you’ll ever admit.

I want to be forced. I want to be raped. I want to be punished for resisting. I imagine a stranger, maybe one I’d only seen in passing. He can’t get enough of me. He needs me. He’ll have me. He follows me wherever I’m going, lying in wait. It doesn’t matter how much I resist. I’m going to be his. He. Will. Have. Me.

As expected, your phone is blown up by the time you check it. Hundreds of old, gross, sleazy men desperate to get a taste of your — shudder — young pussy, as one called it. You hadn’t given a specific age, just that you’re in your 20s, but they all seem content to run with the idea of you being on the lower end, rather than the higher. Perverts.

You scroll through the messages. each one confirming the rational part of your brain that says this is a stupid, dangerous idea and you should forget you ever even had it.

It’s the one at the bottom that stops you. Sent not long after you’d gone to sleep, but they’d liked the post almost instantly. The profile picture is like yours — grainy, blurred, but suggesting a toned, young-ish, large body — and he too is in his 20s, if he’s telling the truth. His message is short and respectful— a breath of fresh air.

youknowme: Nice post. Do you really want that, or do you just like imagining it?

You bite your lip. You don’t know why, but this person feels… different. Exciting. You want to know more.

rosedepths: i really want it. can you give it to me?

youknowme: I could. Would you take it all?

You chuckle— you know what he means, but you figure you’ll have some fun. See if he’s expecting a sweet, scared little doe who’ll be quick to submit; or if he’s expecting a fight. If he’s expecting you.

rosedepths: nope.

The typing button appears and disappears a few times. You assume he doesn’t like your response, and he’s not as exciting a match as you’d hoped, until his next message comes through.

youknowme: Yes, you will.

Oh, fuck. You feel yourself leaking as you read it over and over. You’re desperate to know more.

rosedepths: have you done this before? raping a stranger?

youknowme: I hope you’re talking about CNC, Rose. If you are, then yes. I have.

rosedepths: you any good at it?

youknowme: I’ve subdued much feistier things than you. I can give you what you’re asking for. Do you want it?

The need in your stomach is so profound you think you could keel over. You’ve never found it easier to type something out.

rosedepths: yes.

You talk until you sleep, and you’re optimistic about this guy. He’s careful and meticulous with your kinks and limits, guiding you through the details while still retaining the mystery and allure you’re craving. Despite your protests, he insists on a safeword, but assures you that that’s ‘the only thing in the world that will stop him.’

As you become more familiar with this site, designed solely for this purpose it seems, you see this man is… popular. To say the least. He even has what looks like a review section from other women he’s fucked and oh, there’s pictures. Not of him— but of the deep bruises and stinging cuts he’s left behind. You click through the reviews, pupils dilating the longer you stare the screen down.

He fucked me so good.

He put me in my place.

He’s brutal.

No one’s ever made me cry like that. Or cum.

When he proposes a meeting, you don’t think twice.

By the time next Friday rolls around, the knot in your stomach is a constant; it follows you around, heavy and aching as it trails behind every step. You know it’s just nerves, excitement, the thrill of knowing you’re about to do something very, very wrong. But some part of you does wonder if it’s doubt— are you being stupid? Is this a bad idea? Well, yes. You are and it is. But is it… too bad? You don’t know. As the clock ticks slowly towards your ‘appointment’, you feel more and more anxious to find out.

You clock out at 5, hurrying down the stairs of your office building to dash home. You’d prepared your bag already, shaved this morning and placed your fanciest, laciest set of lingerie under your work clothes. You take a second to freshen up, touch up your makeup and dump your work bag on your bed before you’re hurrying out the door again.

The hotel he’d booked is downtown, shiny and new and well beyond your price range. You wonder for a moment what this man does for work. Your knowledge of him is very, very limited— by design, of course. This whole game, this whole exercise hinges on him being a total stranger. But still, you can’t help but be curious. The one clue you have is the name the room was booked under— Yunho. You must have said it to yourself a thousand times; trying it out, the sound, the feeling. It tastes tantalising on your tongue and you’re bubbling with need by the time you make it to your room.

You hesitate when you reach the door. He’d told you he’d arrive later, at an undetermined time, but you can’t help but wonder. Is he in there, lying in wait? Will you open the door to find him sat on the bed, or hidden behind a corner, or, your heart races at the thought, right there on the other side? You breathe, in, out, in, out. You can do this. There’s nothing you could find on the other side of the door that you wouldn’t beg for another day.

You’re almost disappointed when you walk into the room to find it totally empty. You check the bathroom, the corners, the cupboards, half hoping to find him looming there, waiting to strike. But you don’t. You sigh, sitting down on the bed and sliding off your shoes. You’re not really sure what to do now. You suppose you could touch yourself, you doubt he’d blame you for being excited, but over the past few days, without realising you’ve found yourself almost saving yourself for him; each time your hands had wandered down there, you’d stopped yourself. He’ll take care of it.

Sighing, you decide to turn on the TV, flicking lazily through the channels until you find something that entertains you until he arrives.

With every unexplained noise, every creaking of a neighbour’s door, you look up eagerly, hoping to see Yunho looming in the doorway. But you don’t. Hours go by, your hope fading more and more, until you accept that he’s just not coming tonight. Tomorrow, maybe. You hope.

By the time you’re ready to sleep, you’ve passed several hours in front of the mindless reality show you ended up settling on. Trying to ignore the crushing disappointment that Yunho hasn’t shown up today, and the fear that he never will, you turn the TV off and settle into the sheets.

He’ll come tomorrow. He has to.

Eyes adjusting to the darkness, you make yourself comfortable in the cool, fresh sheets. The only sounds in the quiet room are your slow, steady breaths and the low hum of the air-conditioning. As your eyes begin to droop, you feel yourself relaxing into the memory foam, wondering and hoping he’ll be there when you wake up…

Click.

There’s a hand on your mouth. The lights are on.

Your eyes snap open and your body jolts, adrenaline flowing instantly. The hand is large, covering your mouth and nose and you can’t breathe.

As you adjust to the light you get a good look at him, and you’re so shocked that for a moment you forget you’re supposed to struggle. Yunho is gorgeous. Fading blue hair, dark enough to seem black from a distance; features gentle, eyes dangerous and all blending perfectly together. He’s wearing a white shirt and pinstripe waistcoat that struggles against a broad, toned chest that seems to be trying to escape and his large hands are covered by a pair of thick, leather gloves.

Fuck. You’d beg for this man any other day, happily and eagerly. But you can’t do that now. You have to fight. You thrash against him, legs flailing but his body holds you down, pinning you in place and oh, he’s large, too. He could incapacitate you now and be done with it, but it seems he wants to play.

“Well, aren’t you sweet.”

His voice is low and rough and addictive, dripping with want and danger. He stares you down, eyes narrowed, blank, burning.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?”

The pressure of his hand has eased enough for you to breathe and you lie still for a moment, gauging your next move. You nod, slowly. I’ll be good.

He smiles, not really believing you, and then his hands are off you. For one second, they’re off of you and you take your chance— you jump up and bolt out of the bed, dashing in the direction of the door. You hear him curse, but you know he’d chosen this room, large enough to practically count as a suite, specifically to give you more room to run. And run you do; you’re still half-asleep — you’re not quite sure if you did fall asleep, in the end, or if he got to you just as you were drifting off — but the adrenaline pumping through your veins is enough to carry your feet towards the exit.

You hear him on your tail but he’s not running— no, his steps are leisurely, like he knows he’s going to catch you and is merely amused by your idea that it would end any other way.

He lets you get to the door and pull it halfway open, just enough to think you’ll make it out into the hall, before it slams shut in your face, only just missing your fingers where they’d lingered in the doorway. Then there’s strong arms on your body, slamming you with full force, your body colliding painfully with the heavy wood. You struggle pitifully in his hold and as the lock clicks shut above you, you hear the barely restrained anger in his voice.

“And where the fuck are you going, bitch?” He growls. He grabs your hair and tugs your head backwards, sending a painful sting through your scalp then slams your head back against the door. “You tryna get away, pretty girl?”

You grunt, pushing back against him as hard as you can, but with his firm grip on you all you manage to do is push your ass back against his crotch. He groans, the grip on your hair tightening. “Fucking tease,” he mutters. “Bet you’re wet already.”

He spins you around, holding you by the neck against the door, his body caging you in as his other hand roams across your breasts, squeezing them just short of painfully. You struggle fruitlessly but you’re completely trapped and you know it.

You feel his knee nudging at your closed legs, clenched together to keep him away from your heat as if it’s not aching for him already. “Open,” he says.

“Never.”

“Fine.” His leg draws back and lands a kick between your knees and you yelp, legs forced apart; he shoves his thigh into the gap, holding your legs open and your pussy exposed as his hand runs up your bare thigh and slips beneath the silk slip you curse yourself for wearing to bed. Could you have made this any easier for him?

His fingers tease the edge of your cotton panties, pulling it back and slapping the elastic against your skin and all you can do is stay in place, held under his weight as he toys with you. But you’re not done and this isn’t over. You’re just biding your time. You just need an opportunity; a moment of carelessness for you to slip away.

He runs a finger softly across your covered pussy, and the smug expression on his face tells you exactly what he finds there.

“For someone who doesn’t want this,” he says, “you’re awfully fucking wet.”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

He’s quick to react; a heavy slap lands on your face, turning your head forcefully to the side and leaving a lingering ache.

“Wet and mouthy,” he says. “I wonder how quickly you’ll break.”

Your stomach twists but you give nothing away; you’re enjoying the back and forth, the game, too much to give up yet, no matter how desperately you want him to just fuck you alrady.

“I’ll never fucking break,” you snap.

“Oh, you’ll break.” He leans in closer, enough for you to feel his breath on your face as he speaks. “They always do.”

You can hear your heart beating wildly, pounding against your ribs and your breath stutters. “And if I don’t?”

“If you don’t…” He lets the words hang in the air, gaze flickering across your shivering form. His mouth curls into a thin smile. “I’ll just have to hurt you real, real bad.”

You swallow thickly, tension caught in your throat. You wish that didn’t sound so enticing.

“Now,” he says. “Open your mouth.”

You force yourself to laugh, amused despite your terror by the notion that you’d just give in and obey. You purse your lips, sealing your mouth shut— directly defiant. His eyes flash and his hand tightens around your throat, cutting off your airflow as he presses down on the sides of your neck. You manage to hold out for a few seconds until you feel your eyes bulge and you gasp, mouth opening in a desperate bid for air. He loosens his grip, grabbing your chin and pushing his thumb in just far enough to hold your mouth open for him to spit into it. The saliva lands on your tongue and he pushes your mouth closed, pressing his hand over your mouth and nose again. “Swallow.”

Knowing he won’t let you breathe until you do, you swallow the spit; it feels disgusting and degrading sliding down your throat but the humiliation burns with pleasure and you’re desperate for more.

“Good girl,” he smiles. “Not that hard to listen, is it?”

You scowl, squirming under his hold. Yes, it is that hard. You manage to wring your arms free enough to grab at his arm, trying to pull his hand off of your face. In the panic one of your nails digs into his forearm and he growls, pulling you forward just to slam you backwards again. Your ears are ringing and his hand is pressed even tighter across your mouth and nose.

“Disobedient little bitch,” he hisses, “you want me to fuck you up?”

Yes, fuck, please, your mind says. But you keep that on the inside, and instead of begging or submitting or doing any of the things your body is screaming and pleading for you to do, you bite down. You bite down hard.

The taste of blood is a small victory as he shouts, snatching his hand away from you but this time he doesn’t give you the chance to get away; you make it a few steps before he grabs your wrists, clutching them easily in his injured hand, forcing them behind you back and twisting them painfully to hold you in place so he can backhand you again— and again, and again. You scream in pain, but if he notices, he doesn’t care. His expression is livid, eyes black and burning with rage. “Fucking. Little. Bitch.” Each word is punctuated by a hard slap, knocking the wind out of you over and over.

“Someone needs to put you in your fucking place,” he growls. “Dumb little sex slave.”

The word hits you somewhere deep, stomach twisting into knots as wetness pools. Slave. Fuck.

“I’m not your fucking sex slave,” you bite back and he laughs.

“You don’t know what the fuck you are. Stop squirming.” He twists your arms a little further, teetering on the edge of too far. You whine, straining against him and he cooes. “Hurts, baby?”

“Yes it fucking hurts,” you snap.

He snorts, amused. His eyes darken again as he leans in closer. “Any more attitude and I’ll fucking break them.”

You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, fear pushing through your veins again. His grip on your arms is iron and you know he could snap them with ease. But would he really? You say nothing, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes. He grins.

“Don’t think I won’t,” he laughs. “I’ll break every bone in your body if it’ll keep you pliant.”

“I’ll do it one by one,” he continues. His grip on your wrists tightens again but he doesn’t twist any further; still toeing the line. “Nice and slow so you feel it all,” he smiles, and you know he’s imagining it as he speaks. You wish you could say you weren’t. “Let you hear the crack of each bone snapping in half until you’re completely destroyed. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You shake your head, voice quivering. “No.”

“Good.”

You scowl, squirming again to show your displeasure. “Let me go, Yunho.”

He hadn’t told you what to call him, but you decide to take a gamble that he doesn’t want you using his name and you’re right— he grabs your neck, pressing down hard enough to make you dizzy. “Call me that again,” he hisses, “and I’ll slit your fucking throat. Got it?”

You catch the whimper before it leaves your throat but you can’t stop your pussy from leaking even more than it already was. You didn’t know you could be so terrified or so horny. But you’re not giving up yet.

“You call me sir,” he says, “is that clear?”

You smile thinly. “Yes, sir,” you say, so sweet and polite that he sees right through it. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for your next move and it comes in the form of a wad of spit, landing like a bullet between his eyes.

Then you’re on the bed. You’re landing on the bed, shoved down and he’s crawling over you, holding you down with his weight and— there’s a knife on your throat.

Your eyes widen, all your blood rushing to your head at once. A knife… he’d never mentioned a knife. On your profile you’d said you were open to knife play, but he was so meticulous when he went through all the kinks he was planning that you thought… Well, you didn’t think he’d have a knife.

“Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it?” He grins. There’s a fire, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that hadn’t been there before and you feel it in the deepest parts of your body. You feel something else, too, and it burns just as brightly as your arousal. As he presses the knife down just enough to sting, you realise you are genuinely, truly afraid of Yunho. And yet…

Yunho sees it too; “fucking gushing,” he spits. “You’re more sick than I am. Don’t act like a victim now.”

You whine, squirming slightly and he hums thoughtfully.

“Or do,” he decides. “Actually, I’m sort of hoping you don’t do what I tell you. I’d love to watch the light leave your eyes when you finally stop struggling.”

Your breath hitches, caught in your throat. You don’t… you don’t know how you feel about this. You knew he’d be intense; the reviews had painted a clear picture of just how much he feeds off of fear. But there’s a wild, uncontrolled look in his eyes as he threatens your life so casually, so smoothly, that makes you wonder…

No. You know it’s fake. It’s all fake. You know it’s just a game and you know he’d stop if you said the safe word he gave you. But the knife at your neck is real. The darkness in his eyes is real. The fear is real. And he sees it in your eyes, his lips twitching into a small smile as though he can tell the exact moment you accept it. “Good girl,” he purrs. “Are you ready to listen?”

You say nothing, glowering up at him. He smiles, tilting his head.

“Open your mouth.”

Fuck no. This isn’t over. You meet his eyes with your mouth firmly, resoundingly shut. You purse your lips for good measure, determined to disobey.

His hand collides with your face again; the back of it, this time, and the feeling of his knuckles against your cheek makes you cry out before you can stop yourself. He seizes the opportunity of your parted lips and plunges two gloved fingers into your mouth. You choke, spluttering and he tuts, looking disappointed. Even with fingers in your throat, you feel like a naughty, scolded child beneath his firm gaze.

“See,” he says, his voice low, “I could make this so much worse for you. It’s in your best interest to do what I tell you.”

His fingers push in deeper and you feel the bile rising; you thrash and panic in his hold and he snorts, finally easing up. As you gasp for breath, he pulls his fingers away, a string of drool following him from your mouth and coating his fingers. He wipes them down on his pressed pants, looking disgusted. “Fucking mutt,” he spits. “Let’s put you to good use.”

Before you can register what’s happening, his dick is pushing into your mouth and fuck he’s massive. You can hardly hold him in your throat and your vision blurs with tears even before he starts to move— when he does, he wastes no time starting slow; he goes straight to fucking your mouth with hard, deep thrusts and you feel your tears and saliva cascading down onto your chest. You must look disgusting, but you’ve never heard anyone sound as feral as he does.

Just as you’re getting used to the feeling, he pulls out. His cock slaps against your face before he flips you over, bending you painfully over the edge of the bed. He doesn’t waste time prepping you — not that he needs to with the way you’re dripping — before forcing himself into your tight hole. You scream, feeling yourself being torn apart and he laughs, pushing your head into the mattress. “Fucking bitch,” he growls. His low voice is barely heard above the slapping of his skin on yours and the lewd squelching of your sopping pussy. You burn with humiliation but you can hardly think of anything but the pain of being stretched open and the force of his thrusts. You sob into the sheets but he doesn’t care, only getting rougher each time you cry out.

“Take it,” he barks, “you’ve been waiting for this dick your entire fucking life. So fucking take it.”

“S-sir,” you gasp. You thrash as much as you can under his iron grip, dizzy with pain and pleasure.

He snarls, hand landing hard on your ass. “Drop the act, bitch,” he growls. “I know you fucking love this. Clench.”

Still sobbing, you do your best to obey, clenching your pussy around his dick and it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. He groans, movement stuttering slightly under the new pressure on his dick.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Such a pretty little victim. With a tight fucking hole.”

You feel his orgasm approaching; all the pent-up energy and frustration of fighting and subduing you pulsing through his dick as it pounds against your walls. His grip tightens on your waist, other arm coming to wrap around your neck, holding you in a chokehold as he finally releases inside you.

He grunts and moans through his orgasm and you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up before he finally collapses on top of you, pulling out quickly.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “It’s over, baby.”

The dam breaks. Your low, desperate sobs give way to full blown weeping, your whole body shivering with each cry. A million emotions, previously drowned out by pain and fear and pleasure, are suddenly at the surface, pushing against your skin and desperate to break through. You couldn’t name or number them if you tried but you don’t have to, because Yunho is there— his hands are on your skin, voice in your ear as he soothes you with whispered words you can’t comprehend.

“I’ve got you,” you finally make out. He says it again and again, over and over. It forms a familiar rhythm you can follow and cling to as you come back down to earth.

I’ve got you.

He’s there when the fog clears, cradling your aching body in his arms. His smile is soft and fond but there’s a concern in his eyes as he looks you up and down. “How do you feel?” He asks.

You open your mouth but no words come; you make a soft, content-sounding noise, the best you can do for now, and he chuckles. “I’ll take that as ‘you’re fine’, then.”

He shifts slightly, adjusting you to hold you closer to his chest. You follow his heartbeat as it thuds lowly in his chest. You hadn’t expected this, really; he’d said aftercare was a non-negotiable for him, so you knew he wasn’t going to just fuck you and dip, but the care and tenderness with which he cradles and soothes you is almost as electric as the brutality of before. It’s as funny as it was, you suppose, inevitable— this man has violated you in every way, and yet you’ve never felt more safe than you do in his arms. Two separate faces; opposing but inseparable.

A while later, he asks if he can give you a bath and you nod. You’re strangely embarrassed as he lowers you into the hot water, quietly soothing you when you hiss as it touches the wounds on your ass and thighs; maybe it’s the tenderness of his care or the knowledge that every mark on your body was put there by him, but you feel oddly exposed.

Still, he’s careful as he holds you still, letting your aching joints soak as he cleanses you of the remnants of what he just did to you. When he lifts you out, wrapping you in a soft towel and carrying you back to bed, you feel like you’re floating on a cloud.

Your voice returns soon enough, and quickly something pushes through to the front of your mind. Still slightly in the haze of subspace as the last drops of adrenaline dissipate, it seems like a reasonable, if not pertinent question.

“Yunho,” you say. He makes a ‘hm?’ noise, squeezing your thigh in recognition. “Would you really have broken my bones?”

He laughs, and you feel his body shaking slightly. It feels… warm. Familiar. “No,” he says. “That’s just part of the game. My favourite part, actually.”

“What part?”

“Making you wonder if it’s really a game.”

Through the aching pain of your pussy, you feel a slight twinge, making you clench unconsciously. Oh.

“You had a safeword,” he says. “So I knew I could push you. But I didn’t do anything I wasn’t sure would make your little pussy throb.”

You can’t help but blush at his words, mewling slightly as you snuggle further into his hold. You could stay like this, wrapped in his strong arms and held securely against his chest, for a long, long time. You wonder if he could, too.

“Yunho,” you say softly.

“Will you stay?”

You glance at him nervously, afraid of his answer. He smiles, holding you closer. “As long as you need,” he says.

thank you for reading! comments/feedback/reblogs are appreciated! requests are open! love🖤🖤🖤

taglist open!

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez hard thoughts #jeong yunho smut #yunho smut #dom yunho #yunho hard thoughts #yunho hard hours #mulloey writes

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zorange13 · 22 days ago

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— love island, enhypen edition

— enha as islanders x afab reader (maknae line) | hyung line

so grateful for all of the love on the hyung line version. i love all of you and i hope you liked this one just as much. i suffered a bit of writer's block while writing this. but we persevere!!

warnings/content. suggestive content, sigh…i got carried away on like all of these, misunderstanding trope (it’s not that bad i promise), slowburn, i watched to all the boys i’ve loved before and ever after high while writing this (so healing), not much just love island stuff, no casa amor for riki’s tho (don’t hate me, i just didn’t think it was necessary)

not proofread, bro i gotta start doing that omg

word count. 6.3k

inspired by the aot edition written by @rynfiles !!

Jungwon 양정원

not the eldest (duh), he is kinda the dad out of the group

also an og

wins a lot of fans over by his cute, boyish looks (ofc)

and don’t let him smile, omg THE DIMPLES????? yeah.

also another that people go to for advice for

but somehow the girls there don’t go for him because he seems to be too cute

like, he’s one of the younger ones there and most of the girls preferred the older, more experienced guys

the girls took care of him and almost babied him

to which he would never reject the attention of beautiful women!! (duh) but he didn’t want pity

so it kinda balances out in a way

even though he is such a worrywart, he does in fact know how to have fun and enjoys cracking jokes, playing lil innocent pranks, and having lil dance parties

bc it’s not like yall have your phones

anyways

you were not an og so…a bombshell lmao

and needless to say, you had such a huge wall up and didn’t know how to even handle men after your last relationship

you had been cheated on…baddd

and coming on this show was just something that you didn’t think much into but one day you auditioned and never looked back

the producers said something about you would make good tv

so why not?

you came in during week 3!!

at this point, won was coupled up with one of the og girls

but it wasn’t really going anywhere and that was ok!!

you came in, not really expecting much

but the great thing was that you were like the only girl that was jungwon’s age

so immediately his head was turnt

the prods did that dumb thing where they have you go on a date with all of the guys to see which one you like more

basically you sit at a table and the guys just kind of microwave their ways from the table to wherever they came from

but ngl…none of them were your type like

jake…hot asf but eh

sunoo…stunning but he was too cute

heeseung…just no lmao

jay…that’s just the bro ngl

riki…yes!! but oh…he’s too young for your liking

so nothing really stuck

UNTIL!!

mr. yang jungwon sat across from you

he was also very hot and very cute

but still…you couldn’t show your cards yet like

you had to be a lil mysterious

“hi y/n, im jungwon” he stuck his hand out waiting for your handshake, waiting to sit

to which you liked, all the other dudes just sat down and waved or kissed you on the cheek before they sat

none of them bothered you, it was just nice that jungwon wanted your respect first

the date was genuinely fun!!

you didn’t think that you and him would have that much in common

from what you saw before you came in, he was such a dad

he was the type to serve himself last when they made dinner

the type to make sure the girls put on their sunscreen before their makeup

just very considerate and selfless

almost too much at times

because then he’d find that his food would either be cold

or that he wouldn’t get the portion or piece he wanted

or when he wanted the girls to put on their sunblock, he’d forget to put his on

and would have to get aloe from one of their bags

you, however, did not gaf

you didn’t care to step on toes

you didn’t care to hurt feelings or set boundaries bc you’ve spent so long trying to make others in your life feel comfortable

why?? bc why would you watch everyone around you get what they want except for you? no. (real shit)

selfishness isn’t terrible all the time

so after the date with jungwon, you honestly did enjoy his presence

and vice versa for him so you ended up chatting a lot more

and you guys actually ended up bonding over his current need to people please

and where you lied now with that

“idk, i just feel like i should always look out for people. it’s just how i was raised.”

“yeah, that’s great but when do you ever get what you need? you can’t pour from an empty cup, you know?”

he frowned, not from sadness but it more so exhibited thought. “i guess i’ve never thought of it like that. i just like to feel useful…i feel like when everyone is good then so am i.

you smiled faintly, “nothing’s wrong with that at all, won. but if it’s at the expense of your own happiness or skimming your wants and needs, then that’s a problem. i’ve been there.”

“really?” he said, genuinely curious. “what happened?”

now you’re kinda mad you even let yourself get this comfortable with him this fast

but this was a time where you had to let yourself be vulnerable

i mean you did sign up for a dating show like cmon

“well…” you sighed, “my last relationship ended about a year and a half ago, and it was pretty rocky. i just thought i was doing everything right, like i was rearranging my schedule to see him. i used to write down everything that he told me that was worth remembering in case i wanted to surprise him with a gift. i’d even bite my tongue when something upset me because i didn’t want to make him upset. now that i think of it, i felt like i was just trying to shrink myself into this little box of what i felt love was and what he wanted me to be or something. but i equated his love to my worth and then my worth to how useful i was to people.”

he let you express yourself but as you did, he slid his hand across the couch cushion where your hand was. though he hesitated, not knowing if you were comfortable

you saw this and decided to be bold and inch your hand forward as well

his ears perked up at the sensation but before he could get totally flustered he spoke up, “so what made you guys break up?”

you smiled bitterly, “he cheated,”

“that’s awful, i’m so sorry. truly, you didn’t deserve that.” anger, then sadness flickered in his eyes

“i know that now, but the best things that i learned was one: never love a man more than he loves me. then two: selfishness and self-preservation isn’t so bad.”

“this is pretty hard for me to hear, but also i think i needed to hear it”

you scooted a little closer to him, “well, you have a cute girl sitting right here with more than enough selfishness to spare. maybe some of it will rub off on you.”

that had to be one of the most cathartic conversations you’ve both had

but from there, he actually started to do for himself more

he wouldn’t wait for everyone to get their food first

he made sure to put his sunblock on

and now the only other thing that he wanted to worry about now was you

bringing you breakfast, water, making you food when you were hungry in the middle of day, massaging you when you slept funny

in turn, ironically enough you started to do more for the friends you’ve made

you did more favors, said yes but only because you wanted to

you both brought out great things in the each other and it showed

you came in very guarded

but now you were like a butterfly, wearing brighter colors, your natural hair, you didn’t put on as much makeup as before, you laughed more than you have in a long time

all of those things were amazing, putting effort into yourself and looking nice

but you started to feel like your old self and you were gonna embrace for now

you spent more time doing the other girl’s hair and makeup and that was the most fun!!

you and jake’s girl developed a close friendship too!!

when casa came, you also left him a note!!

“ok so i totally left but it’s only for a little bit, i promise!! take care of yourself while i’m out, ok? please promise me, i know i’m not actually there to see you make the promise but i trust you did lmao. don’t miss me too much, or do, because i’ll definitely be missing you. you’re my won and only. love, y/n”

his heart BURST

especially at that last part, so creative it wasn’t like he’s heard that one before

he holds up at casa

still, he’s just being himself

there was one girl in particular that was very into him

she didn’t come on too strong…

i lied i'm sorry she did

but he kept it respectful though!!

you know…arms length

he did genuinely like you and just wasn’t feeling it with the casa girl

he told her, literally right after rejecting her with a smile, “you’re a beautiful girl but my connection is depending on me and i’m doing the same with her. i just wanna make sure i’m doing what’s best for me and her.”

very cut and dry, straight to the point!!

until it wasn’t????

over at the villa, the girls received that godforsaken video of what the boys have been up to

all of the girls were in shock and jaws agape at what they were seeing

when it got to jungwon, all you saw was him and the girl sitting down one of the couches

that wasn’t pleasant to see but whatever

then he sat there, marvelous dimples on display and said, “you’re a beautiful girl, i just wanna make sure i’m doing what’s best for me…”

you were not only, confused but totally shocked

fans hateddd that the prods tried to sabotage like that!!

you’ve made it clear to him what you’ve been through and this was a little more than hurtful

the whole environment was a damn mess like

some of the girls were crying because their guys weren’t acting right, others were confused

the casa boys tried to help and support the girls but like ew get away we don’t know you wtf

when jungwon came back, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt

but you were just so withdrawn

at the recoupling he didn’t bring anyone back which surprised you

when asked how you felt about it, you didn’t really have an answer

as days passed and you kept looking at jungwon, it was a reminder of the person you were a year and a half ago

he was tired of it and finally sat you down

“you were flirting with her, won”

“what?” his brows furrowed, he looked at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing in the world

“you said something about the girl being beautiful and that you’re gonna do what’s best for you.” rolled your eyes

he shook his head in disbelief, as in he was genuinely confused. “i never said that, wait no. i said that but that wasn’t what i said.”

after grabbing your given phone, seeing as you’re the one who it was sent to (conveniently), you both watched the video and jungwon legit burst out laughing

“ok, so they totally twisted the entire thing. what i said was something along the lines of—”

you cut him off, avoiding his eyes. “don’t lie, bro. if you liked the girl then that’s—”

“i don’t even know her! if i liked her i would’ve brought her back.”

“ok so if that was the case then what about me? what if you did like her then what was i supposed to do?”

“you know that’s not fair…”

you leaned back into the chair and huffed, folding your arms. “what did you say?”

“i said that our connection is strong and i want to do what’s best for me and you. i rejected her, i said i didn’t want her.”

you frowned, “i don’t believe you”

he knew you had trust issues, and understandably so. but with that all he could do was sigh, “i get it, you don’t trust me right now and i don’t blame you. that video was crazy but i swear to you—i never even considered her.”

you stayed quiet, folding your arms

he leaned forward, trying to bridge the gap

“what i said was, ‘i’m trying to do what's best for me and her.’ as in, us.” he gestured between you two

“so why even say that? why was it even twisted?”

“because i wanted to make it clear that i wasn’t wavering.” his tone soft, yet firm. “i wanted het to know she didn’t even have a chance. i was..i was hoping that you’d believe enough in me to see that.”

“it’s not just about believing you, won. it’s about what i saw with my eyes and heard with my ears. and it just reminded me of the shit that i wanted to leave behind.”

he leaned back with a sigh, “i didn’t come back to fight with you. i came back because i chose you. and i will keep choosing you, but you gotta trust me.”

“ok”

“ok?” he reached over to you to pull you in for a hug

but you stopped him before he could, “ok. just don’t let anything like this happen again. seriously.”

he nodded, “i promised and i’m gonna keep myself to it. i’m all in with you, baby and i will always choose you.” and you guys shared a gentle kiss

spoiler alert: he kept his promise!!

final 4!!

your last date was a picnic in a hidden garden, with fairy lights, a starry night, with a beautiful guitarist there to play cute mood music

his final speech: “when i came into this, i was so focused on making everyone happy that i lost sight of what really mattered. but with you, i learned that taking care of myself isn't selfish—it’s necessary. and you… you’ve shown me that it’s okay to do things for others, to give more than i ever thought i could. i know trust hasn't come easy for you. you’ve had to fight for it, and i’ve seen that. but i want you to know, the trust we’ve built, it means everything to me. it's not just about what we say; it’s what we’ve shown each other, day by day, that proves we’ve got something real. i don’t want to pretend i’ve got everything figured out, but i do know one thing: i’ve never felt this way before. and i want to keep building with you—slowly, carefully, but always toward something more.”

even though won was so beloved, you were the favorite between you both!!

“seeing her grow has been everythinggg” “they are so black cat and golden retriever” “love a good he fell first and harderrr” “these are my winners idc”

the prods hated that you guys were so loved

Sunoo 김선우

lowkey can see him as the host LMAOO

like he would be asking all the burning questions

instigating

rolling his eyes at all the dumbasses in the villa

but as a contestant

he’d be a bombshell

i just see him being so sweet (i mean he alr is from my assumptions)

he gives me the couple that partners up like day one and stays solid through the rest of the show

everything about him is just very lighthearted like he’s just there to have fun!!

but when he sees you he’d know that he’d want you

this might sound crazy but just looking at all the other girls repulses him (love them tho!)

he makes it clear that he’s into you and honestly it kinda makes you…teehee

as he continues his journey in the villa he’s adopted as the sweetheart™

everyone goes to him when they wanna vent and just need a listening ear.

another fan favorite: “bro where did they find this man” “OMGG a man that doesn’t play games and is actually not a literal pos ?/??//?? no way” “i need a man like sunoo in ways that are concerning to mankind”

you and him were talking at the beanbags one day and you were asking him why he seemed like he was too good to be true

“you just slept a lot”

“what does that mean?”

“because i’m the man of your dreams, so you like…manifested me”

you laughed, “shut up” you threw a loose pillow at his head

y’all would be like the boring couple

like gtfoh no one wants to see you two being IN LOVE

WE WANT DRAMA

it’s weird tho bc even tho y’all have been so solid, america kinda doesn’t believe you two

kinda like kendall and nicole like it just felt artificial

you would take losing challenges kinda hard because you were competitive

sunoo, however, didn’t care but he cared because you did, they were just dumb challenges

were y’all in it for the money or…?

but there was genuine love between you two and it was weird when y’all were voted the fakest girl and guy

it just didn’t make sense, but maybe it was the editing of the show?

til this day you’re like 90% sure the prods sabotaged but it’s ok!!

he just looked at you with so much admiration

he’d help you with your hair if you needed it (only in the event that you were the last girl to get ready or if you were just moving extra slow)

he brought your breakfast like clockwork

he was there if you needed literally anything like it’s insane

when you girls had to leave for casa he was heartbroken

but fortunately, you did leave a note for him!!

“hi baby!! a part of me feels like you’re gonna be hurt to read this but still we all had to go. i can’t wait to get back to you so we can catch up, i know it’s only gonna be a few days but you know how that feels like forever here. but still, all i’m gonna say is don’t be weird, use your best judgment, and make sure no one bugs out if you can help it. i’ll do the same. i left you a little keepsake, i’ll see you when i get back, precious!”

it’s so bittersweet because he loves the note and it’s like he can hear your voice as he reads it

but that’s the problem, he wishes you were actually here

but he looks across your vanity to see you left him his favorite perfume of yours in a sample just for him

would spray it on him and even spray it on the bed

when the casa girls came he was nice

it made him sick to his stomach to see another girl sitting at your spot on the vanity table but he knew it was temporary (unless she was picked)

he kept it cute

unfortunately some of the other guys didn’t so he knew recoupling was gonna be a bloodbath

heeseung acting like an asshole

jake doing God knows what

sunoo kinda hated everything that came with love island

you, alongside the friends that he’s made, were the only truly enjoyable things that came with the experience

the useless drama gave him migraines

you ended up coming back with no one and he did the same

it was a happy night for you two

he hated seeing the girls upset, as did you

but y’all were lowkey eating up the drama lmao

you guys didn’t make it to the final 4

you guys just barely made it in the votes

like out of the final 4, you guys were like 5th

tears

straight EMOTIONAL TEARS

the couples that were left didn’t want to see you guys go

you guys were beloved still by fans

fans didn’t believe in you guys until this moment

they were kinda sad that they didn’t bet on you guys earlier

but you and sunoo didn’t gaf about the money or clout that you gonna get after

all that you needed were each other

Riki 西村力

he auditioned as a joke lmao

he was not betting on making it but when he got the email that was gonna be a contestant, he was shocked

but again, he’s young and turnt so why not

yolo yk?

riki was the youngest boy in the villa (og)

in general he wasn’t that experienced

he’s only ever had one girlfriend in comparison to the others

it didn’t take much for him to realize that

the girls that came in were all older than him and going for the older guys

but it didn’t take a blow at his pride

personally, he doesn’t find the appeal in women that were so much older

like they’re paying bills and he just graduated like

they have nothing in common

but as a person, he got comfortable with the other islanders very quickly and learned a lot about what women do and don’t like from the older sisters in the villa (kinda like bergie from s5)

“yes, riki, you have to flirt. pursue, you’re a man now. most girls will only take initiative to a certain extent, the rest is on you.”

“i know but…how?”

just asking questions, figuring things out blah blah

his relationship with the guys is still very much younger brother

they also give him advice on girls

it’s terrible but he makes note of it so he knows what to and what not to do

he plays stupid pranks on everyone to kill time

but after a while it gets boring when he sees everyone paired off and he’s kinda just…there

but never fear!!

he’s surprised the prods actually like him enough to send him a girl his age

well actually it wasn’t the prods it was the fans that begged for him to have someone (not like he knew that)

“he’s so young, y’all are dead wrong for not having girls his age” “poor riki :( he’s so lonely” “love island plz cast me”

when you walked in, of course he knew you were stunning

i mean, look at you!! just his type

so naturally, all of the islanders were interrogating you at the firepit

“so, y/n, what’s your type?”

you smiled, a little flustered but expecting it. “tall, funny, i like them slim, but like muscular? so i’d say lean?? yeah, lean is the right word. also funny, exciting! i never like to be bored.”

everyone laughed, “well you don’t have to worry about that here, trust.” [sunoo’s girl] said

“i know, i’ve been watching y’all” you say with a playful lilt

heeseung tilts his head, “really? so, who do you have your eyes on right now?”

what a flirt i stg

you smiled, “not you”

to which that elicited a few laughs from the others, as well as him. “no seriously, anyone here catch your eye?”

you look to the boy sitting a few people down from you, “him”

he was dazed, half listening, and staring blankly at the wooden deck beneath his feet

the only thing that caught his attention was the fact that everyone was looking at him and that you called him out

“me?” he said, with some excitement

you nodded reciprocating, “yeah!”

jake intervened, “wait, how old are you?”

“riki’s age”

the islanders, sans you and riki, all ooooh’d and ahhhh’d

[jake’s girl] grabbed your arm, locking hers with yours. “that’s so cute, well, we’ll leave you guys to it. you know, gotta give them space.” she looked around at everyone else with wide, indicative eyes.

they all took hints and left, leaving you two just sitting there awkwardly

and i can’t say that y’all eventually found a groove because…you didn’t

it was so painfully awkward

it’s like all of those things that the girls spoke to him about just…left

but also when he would bring up things to talk about or would ask to see if you shared any interests, nothing clicked

“so do you like music?”

you smiled, “yeah…well who doesn’t like music?”

and vice versa

“do you like to watch tv?”

“of course,”

“cool! do you like anime?”

your shoulders slump, “i’ve tried to watch it, but i can’t seem to get into it. i watched the first season of hunterxhunter and—”

he laughed, “that’s because it’s hxh, that show is…strange. you gotta watch shit like death note, naruto–”

you groaned, “bro that show is mad long”

“you just need to skip all the filler episodes”

you stared at him blankly, “if i need a whole strategy guide to get through it, i’m not watching it”

“it’s a classic!”

wait…i take it back

there was SOMETHING

but somehow even after all of that he couldn’t get any further than just physical attraction

like he knew you were gorgeous but something about you felt dull

like there was nothing you guys had in common

a few days passed, but nothing.

and you both tried so hard

riki felt so attracted to you, i’ve said it before and i’ll keep saying it

however, nothing stuck and it was really disappointing

you felt similarly so you were on the same page

however, you still didn’t see the appeal in dating anyone so much older

so in some way, riki was like all you had

and you hated the idea of using someone for convenience or obligation

you wanted to want him and for it to be real

in a confession, riki says, “it sounds so shallow to say this but, she checks off all of my boxes. stunning, 10/10. but i feel like nothing’s landing with us, you know? i want to get to know her but i feel like we’re just forcing it. and i don’t want her to feel like she has to settle for me either.”

fans felt him, but still just wanted you guys to work because they saw the potential!!

“but they look so good together!!” “a part of me is sad that there’s nothing there, but another part is kinda glad that riki is getting a taste of what love island and dating is like. it’s good for him.”

so one night, you guys sat down and things finally came to a head

you guys were alone, all the other islanders kinda scattered throughout the villa and the yard space

“i’m just gonna be honest because i feel like you deserve that.”

he nodded curtly, waiting for you to finish, already anticipating what was coming

“i just don’t think this is working—and it’s not you! i just feel like we’re trying too hard. like you’re everything and more. funny, you’ve been really nice, you’re attractive, but i just feel like we’re missing something.”

there was a beat of silent but then his shoulders settled

riki smiles, “it’s ok, i’ve been feeling the same way,”

your eyes bulged, “wait you too! omg, this sounds terrible but i’m so relieved wtf.”

you both shared a laugh

you were both glad that the pressure to perform for one another was alleviated

since then, things have been ok!!

you did couple up with each other

mainly for the convenience, and you liked each other enough to not want the other to leave

you guys are hilarious and are sort of the comedic duo of the villa

you guys are kids in comparison to rest so…very childish

but not in an annoying way!!

sort of like spongebob and patrick

ok they’re annoying…

but THEY ARE FUNNY

you both express these feelings in confessionals:

riki: “since we talked about it, it feels different…like in a good way! there’s no pressure and we just vibe now, and i’d like to get to know her for real this time. i feel like i only know her on a friend level, which is nice. i want a friend first you know?”

you: “ok, so why is riki actually funny…? i’m honestly not sure how i missed all of those things the first time around. i feel like i was trying too hard to see if we’d work out and it’s made me miss all of the things that make him fun to be around.”

nonetheless the fans ate up yalls dynamic

but they were still skeptical like…

“...are we sure they’re just not too comfortable? i mean like i love their vibe but WE NEEDD THE ROMANCE” “my besties to lovers slowburn senses are tingling…” “i feel like they’re gonna realize they’re perfect for each other after all omggg”

the islanders couldn’t STAND yall omg

sabotaging challenges

messing up relay races

“you guys gotta stop plotting against us during these challenges” jake groaned as he wrung out his soaked tank top

“it’s just strategy, jakey” you and riki high five, as you then double over laughing

to which he watches you with a smile

but eventually…cracks started to show

when the nights were extra breezy and your dress didn’t cover you up that well, he gave you his jacket

he brought you breakfast every day and made sure jay didn’t put too much or too little of anything in or on whatever you wanted to eat

the way your smile lingered a little too long when he was teasing you

but of course, there’s cameras and fans see it!!

“bro they’re literally falling in love rn and they DONT EVEN KNOW IT” “this feels like the friends to lovers arc i didn’t know i needed” “riki’s smile when she was laughing???? yeah he’s gone”

and don’t kill me

but riki didn’t even peep his feelings until the godforsaken heart rate challenge

you dressed up as a referee: black and white striped crop top, low rise shorts, knee length socks, some cute converse, and of course a whistle

nothing too scandalous!!

you guys are young so no one is expecting a lot from either of you. it’s weird almost, you guys are like the little brother and sister to everyone

so you didn’t do anything extreme, just some funny one-liners.

until you got to riki…

saving the best for last, you sauntered toward him

the boys ooooo’d and playfully punched him; just guy stuff. gross.

anyways!!!

you flung the string of you whistle around his neck and pulled him closer to you as you got on your knees in front of him

and said, “i think you’re my biggest rule breaker,”

not only were you pulling him physically, you were pulling him in every other way possible

his eyes physically couldn’t leave yours

his heart was beating out of his chest and you hadn’t even really touched him

you pulled him in with your laugh

you pulled him in with your silly little remarks and jabs

and now you were pulling him in with this cheap ass whistle

he smiles, as awestruck as can be, “what rule did i break?”

“you stole my heart”

you’ve never been this bold before

but you did pull him closer, whistle string still around his neck and now his eyes low. almost intoxicated by you

“and you got mine”

wait you didn’t think he’d respond RIGHT THERE ??? WAIT

luckily no one else heard exactly what he said

but you’re like 80% y’alls mics picked it up

STILL so corny, so cheesy, but oh so true

you ended up racing his heart the most!! (duh)

after everything, you guys ended up debriefing…

you guys sat down at the dock and sort of were reliving the chaos that just left you both

then when it got to you, “oh i didn’t know you even had that in you” he lightly hit your knee

you grabbed his hand as you laughed, completely oblivious to the tingling feeling in your stomach

“me neither! i mean it was crazy!! i’ve never been stared at for so long before”

“it was well deserved, especially what your ass put me through!”

you kinda gagged at that, some idiotic part of you was hoping that he just forgot or MAYBE wouldn’t mention it. thus, you ignored what he said and hoped he wouldn’t repeat it.

if you ignore it, it will go away

“do you really think i stole your heart?” he asked

“don’t bring that up! i was just trying to win the game”

he sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes, “shut up! you meant that shit, and i meant what i said too”

you looked around, “you’re serious?”

he nodded, reaching for your hand. “as a heart attack.”

your breath caught for a moment, and you weren’t sure what to say

your relationship with riki had been so playful and friendly (as far as you know it) for as long as you met him

yes, you meant what you said in the challenge but there really isn’t much you guys had in common.

i mean, you guys tried to find commonalities and things to bond over and it didn’t go anywhere

“that’s great, riki. but i just don’t want this to end up like how it was before. like it was so awkward and weird and i don’t want this to ruin us.”

his thumb brushed against your hand, sending sparks through it, “believe me, i know,” he snickered. “but this feels different now though, doesn’t it? i think so.”

you leaned back in thought, “it does, i…like the way this feels. but what if we mess this up again? what if we get—i just don’t want us to not be us again.”

he scoots a little closer to you, your legs now touching. his grabs your leg and placed it over his lap. “then let’s keep it simple,”

you were a little startled by the intimacy but you maintained your cool when you saw that knowing, gentle smile play on his lips. “simple?”

“yeah,” his hand rested lightly on your shin. “think about it, we tried to be romantic without even knowing each other. now, i know you. i know you more than anyone i’ve known ever. even all 20 of your favorite colors. your favorite rom-coms, i even know your skincare routine in order.” he laughed, “at this point, nothing can bring us back to that.”

“and if it does?” you asked softly, eyes now meeting his own.

his hand slowly moved up and down your shin. “then break my heart. break it into a million pieces.”

your ears perked up, “wait–you watched–you’re so lame! you watched to all the boys and didn’t even—”

he laughed, “shut up,” before he rested his hand on your cheeks and pulled you into the sweetest kiss you’d ever imagined

maybe being with riki didn’t seem so impossible after all

fans loved you guys!!

“i just love the childlike innocence that they bring to the sluttery of his show” “just a breath of fresh air honestly” “THE SLOW BURN BURNED I TOLD YALL”

y’all made it to the final 4!!

the final date was something simple; honestly you both appreciated something chill in contrary to the hooliganism that you guys underwent everyday

the prods set up a stunning outdoor setup: a cozy blanket laid out in the middle of a private field with fairy lights strung on nearby trees, a telescope angled at the sky, and a basket of their favorite snacks.

ooh! and there was a special smores kit right next to card decks.

playing cards, uno (you both avoided that one; no need to start arguing on a date), truth or dare

but his final speech, brace yourself:

“coming into this, i didn’t think i’d get attached to anyone. i thought it’d be fun, a chance to just...be myself and enjoy the ride. and for a while, it was just that. but then,” he paused, looking directly at you “you came along. and everything changed. at first, i thought we couldn’t be more different. we didn’t even make sense on paper, like literally the only thing that we had in common was our age. but then you started pulling me in—in every way possible. your laugh, your little comments, the way you carried yourself. i was hooked before i even realized it. and yeah, it wasn’t perfect, we had our awkward moments. but every time, we found our way back to something real. something i didn’t know i needed until it was right in front of me. i know i joke around a lot, but when i think about what you’ve given me—your time, your patience, your trust—it’s not something i take lightly. you’ve made me want to be better, not just for you, but for myself. so, if i’ve learned anything from this experience, it’s that love isn’t about finding someone who fits into your life perfectly or someone who likes everything you do. it’s about finding someone who just gets you and someone you’re willing to do things for. all because they’re worth it— and you’re so, so worth it. every awkward moment, every stupid rom-com i watched secretly because i knew you liked it, every marshmallow i burned trying to impress you. all of it. so, whether we win or not tonight, i already know what i’ve gained. you’re my best friend, now lover. you’re my world now, i love you, and i’ll do whatever i need to, to make sure that you’re reminded of it everyday.”

we all know who ended up winning

but still you guys are so beloved

and you even brought a younger audience to love island!!

granted you guys are so happy and get a ton of opportunities now

you’re a brand ambassador for your favorite clothing brand

riki and you also have your own brand deals together and those photoshoots are so much fun!!

you guys also stream and crash out over cod and fortnite together

couples that crash out together, stay together <3

taglist: @brxght-world @aruumyne @cara9065

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #kpop x black reader #enhypen fic #niki x reader #kpop #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader

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fkinkindagauche · 3 months ago

Text

Wild God

This is for day 20 of @steddie-spooktober, "cryptid" as well as @strangerthingswritersguild Kinktober prompt "worship". I fell asleep before I could finish it last night, so it is a day late on both! If you haven't listened to Nick Cave's new album, Wild God, yet, you should. The album is not actually about monsterfucking, but I like to think he really wouldn't mind the title being co-opted for that.

Summary: Mothman is in the woods of Hawkins and he's apparently a really good lay.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 2,229 | Tags: Anal Sex, Rimming, Monster Eddie Munson, Monsterfucker Steve Harrington, Blood, Biting, Unsafe Sex with Cryptids, Prehensile Tongues

Steve has become increasingly obsessed with the creature in the woods. Lucas says it's Mothman, who came to Indiana from West Virginia (“he has wings, you know”), while Dustin claims it’s just a weird sandhill crane.

Steve doesn’t tell Dustin and Lucas what he knows, from overhearing a discussion at a party a few weeks before. He’d been pouring himself a drink in the kitchen when two girls came in, excitedly whispering to each other, not noticing Steve was there.

“And it was so big,” one of the girls whispers. “I’ve never seen a cock that size before. It felt amazing.”

“You’re joking, right?” the other girl says, incredulous. “You didn’t actually fuck a random monster in the woods.”

“I swear, I did,” the first girl says, looking annoyed at not being believed. “Mary did, too, ask her.”

“Mary also said she fucked Justin Bieber. That’s not exactly helping your case.”

“If you don’t believe me, go try it yourself. If you spend the night out by Skull Rock, he’ll come.” She suggestively waggles her eyebrows. “In more ways than one.”

Steve doesn’t really know why, but his interest is piqued. He asks around over the next few weeks, and finds out more. It’s apparently become a bit of a thing with the people around his age in Hawkins. The girls are calling the creature the Wild God, saying they’re going into the woods to worship, and the boys mostly seem to think the girls are all making it up to piss them off.

He talks to three separate groups of girls who tell him similar versions of the same story - they went to Skull Rock to camp, and around midnight, the creature approached, standing at the edge of the camp. He’s been described to Steve as anywhere from seven to ten feet tall, with wings, red eyes, and a huge cock. All you have to do is walk up to him and say, “I’m yours for the night,” and, if the girls are to be believed, you’ll have the best sex of your life.

Steve, who has become increasingly bored with the girls of Hawkins, his sex life more of a slog than it is enjoyable, finds himself wondering what it would be like, to be fucked. He’s never experimented with men before, even though he has had thoughts. He especially wonders what it would be like to be fucked by a wild god.

He makes Robin tell him everything he needs to know to spend a night in the woods, refusing to tell her why he needs to know. He goes to other sources (a sex shop in downtown Indy) to find out what he needs to know about what else he hopes will happen. He purchases varying sizes of dildos ranging from beginner to gigantic at the sex shop, and purchases a tent at a more respectable establishment. He spends a few weeks getting used to the feeling of his fingers, and then the dildos, inside of him. He likes it, almost more than he likes having his own dick buried inside someone.

Once he’s graduated to the largest dildo, he decides to give his plan a try on one night in late October. He reaches Skull Rock around 10pm, with the moon high and full in the sky. He sets up his tent, starts a small fire, and settles in, prepared to wait as long as he needs. He can be patient. One hour passes, then two. He hears the sounds of the forest at night around him, small animals and insects going about their business, rustling and chirping.

Just as he worries he may be about to nod off, he hears something larger moving through the undergrowth. His eyes scan the forest around him, the moon shedding plenty of light on the scene as a large shape comes into focus. It’s taller than a man, but not by too much, with the shape of unfurled wings making a shadow against the light of the moon. Steve can see two red orbs glowing in the dark - eyes.

The creature stops about twenty feet from Steve, eyes pointed directly at him where he sits by his fire. It moves closer after a few moments, and the closer it comes to Steve, the more he can see in the light of the moon.

It’s mostly humanoid, but covered in a thin layer of fur, with large wings extending from its shoulders. The figure wears no clothes, and Steve’s eyes take in the size of the cock between its legs, which had not been exaggerated by the girls, before being drawn back up to its head, surrounded by a halo of unruly, long dark hair.

The creature approaches closer, reaching a clawed hand out toward Steve. Steve studies its face, feeling a gentle thrum of something like recognition. Large, dark eyes, now with a distinct red tint, full lips, frizzy mane of hair, lines at the side of the mouth where dimples would be if it smiled.

“Eddie?” Steve says, shock in his voice. It can’t be Eddie. He died five months ago.

The creature tilts his head to the side, confusion apparent on his face. The more Steve sees, the more he knows in his core that this is Eddie in front of him, changed almost beyond recognition.

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks, as Eddie reaches out one clawed finger and strokes down his cheek.

Eddie doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at Steve, eyes hungry. Maybe he can’t even speak anymore. Steve remembers why he’s here, eyes tracking down to where Eddie’s cock rests between his legs. He would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been attracted to Eddie even before he got turned into a monster with a giant cock.

Steve takes a deep breath and says, “I’m yours for the night.” He wants to worship at the feet of the Wild God, especially since that god just happens to be Eddie Munson.

Eddie makes a noise which Steve can only describe as a growl, then leans forward to press his mouth to Steve’s. Calling what ensues a kiss would be a mischaracterization. Eddie plunders Steve’s mouth, all sharp teeth and inhumanly long tongue. Steve tastes blood from where one of Eddie’s incisors has nicked his bottom lip. He moans into Eddie’s mouth as Eddie licks into him, mapping the inside of Steve’s mouth with his tongue.

One of Eddie’s now huge arms wraps around Steve, pulling him flush against his body. Steve can feel Eddie’s cock growing hard where it’s pressed against his hip, so warm even through his jeans that Steve is worried it will burn his bare skin. He feels one of Eddie’s legs slot between his own, and starts to rut down onto it, his own cock so hard it’s almost painful.

Eddie’s mouth moves to Steve’s neck, biting and licking, no doubt leaving ample marks which will be hard to explain to anyone who sees them. His clawed hands bunch in Steve’s sweater, pausing for a moment before tearing. Tatters of fabric fall from his body and he shivers as his skin is exposed to the cold.

Eddie unfurls his massive wings, wrapping them around Steve, effectively blocking out the cold. It’s warm in this protected little alcove in the woods as Eddie moves his clawed hands to Steve’s jeans.

“Wait,” Steve says, and Eddie pauses, red eyes inquisitive. “These jeans are expensive,” Steve explains, not sure Eddie understands him at all, but taking advantage of the pause to remove his jeans and boxers so they don’t also end up in tatters on the forest floor.

As soon as he’s naked, Eddie starts to back him toward the fire, wings returning to their furled station on his back and clawed hands encircling Steve’s waist as he picks him up like Steve is a small child and not a fully grown man. He lays Steve on the ground beside the fire and blankets himself over him so Steve doesn’t even have a chance to be cold.

Eddie starts to kiss and bite down Steve’s body, briefly nuzzling Steve’s straining cock before licking the whole length of it. His tongue is way longer than it should be, and seemingly prehensile, wrapping around Steve’s cock almost like a snake and gently stroking him. Steve moans loudly, bucking his hips up and grabbing handfuls of Eddie’s tangled, matted hair.

Eddie moves further down, licking over Steve’s balls and grabbing his hips, pulling them up to get access to Steve’s hole. His tongue plunges easily inside of Steve, who opened himself up using his largest dildo right before setting out on this trip. The tongue presses and curls inside of him, seeking blindly until it finds that spot that makes Steve scream.

Steve thrusts himself up into Eddie’s face, fucking himself on that absolutely earth-shattering tongue. Eddie continues to press perfectly into his prostate and Steve feels an unbearable pleasure start to build in his lower abdomen. He reaches down for his own cock and starts to stroke. It only takes two pumps before he’s coming all over his belly and chest, moaning and writhing on Eddie’s tongue.

Eddie keeps tongue-fucking him until the overstimulation becomes unbearable and Steve tugs on his hair. Eddie moves his face up, red eyes locking onto Steve's as he leans down and bites Steve’s hip, hard enough to break the skin. Steve groans and feels his cock twitching with the intense pleasure-pain of the sensation, Eddie’s tongue coming out to lick up the blood.

Eddie moves up his body, kissing and licking and biting as he goes, until he’s face to face with Steve once again. Steve can feel Eddie’s hard cock pressing against his hip, huge and very wet. He reaches down and grabs hold, stroking. There’s an ample amount of a viscous fluid coating Eddie’s cock now, as if he can make his own lubricant.

Eddie shudders as Steve strokes him, bending to lick into Steve’s mouth once again as Steve shifts to position the head of Eddie’s cock at his entrance. Eddie moves slowly, pressing his hips forward gently as he breaches Steve, stretching him. Eddie’s cock is about the size of the largest dildo he bought, a dildo he had been sure would be much larger than any actual cock he would ever take.

The extensive prep that Steve did earlier, along with Eddie’s natural lubricant, are the only reasons it’s even physically possible for his body to accommodate Eddie. He sinks in slowly, giving Steve ample time to adjust, the care with which he moves belying his monstrous appearance. He pulls back to stare at Steve, gaze intense and more human than it has been this whole time, the red fading a little from his eyes as he finally bottoms out.

Steve feels gloriously full and claimed, in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He presses a hand to his belly and he can feel where Eddie’s cock makes a palpable bulge. Inside, it presses into his prostate, and as Eddie starts to move Steve can feel his cock miraculously hardening again, almost immediately after his first orgasm.

Steve lets out a constant stream of wanton groans and pants as Eddie starts fucking into him in earnest, clawed hands braced on either side of Steve’s head as he pounds Steve into the forest floor. Steve meets each of his thrusts with his own, bucking up into Eddie as much as he’s able.

Every brush of Eddie’s cock against his prostate builds inside of Steve until he feels like he’s going to explode. As Eddie bends his head to one of Steve’s pecs and bites down hard, Steve feels a second orgasm tear through his body, cock spurting a miniscule amount of cum onto his stomach as his whole body clenches around Eddie.

Eddie lets out a noise that can only be characterized as a roar and Steve starts to feel a warmth spreading inside himself as Eddie thrusts as deep into his ass as he can go and comes. It lasts a long time, longer than Steve ever thought an orgasm could last, and he feels excess cum dribbling out of his ass around Eddie’s cock.

Eddie collapses against him, panting heavily, wings coming out to form a protective barrier around the two of them. Steve can feel Eddie’s cock starting to soften inside of his ass, and eventually it softens enough to slip out, a gush of cum following to coat the tops of Steve’s thighs.

Eddie pushes himself up a little, looking down at Steve. The red of his eyes is more muted now, the color closer to the brown Steve was used to seeing. Steve reaches a hand up to cup one of Eddie’s cheeks.

“Can I come back to see you again tomorrow?” Steve asks.

“Yes,” Eddie says, voice gravelly with disuse and much deeper than it had been before. “Please.”

Steve smiles, elated at this evidence that Eddie is still in there somewhere, able to understand and respond. Then Steve remembers how he even found out about Eddie, and his face crumples into a frown.

“And stop fucking other girls. You’re my monster now,” Steve says, glaring.

“Okay, Stevie,” Eddie says, as he moves down Steve’s body to start thoroughly cleaning up the mess with his tongue.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics.

#steddie #steddie fic #monster eddie munson #monsterfucker steve harrington #stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie fanfiction #my fics #steddie fanfic #stwgkinktober2024

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tickettride · 5 months ago

Text

I’ve just seen a face | 1

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x f!reader

in which the man you've been staring at all night long at a party meets you in the kitchen, and suggests to walk you out where it's safer. the only danger is not being able to stop kissing him.

word count: 2k

warnings: 18+ (mdni), alcohol, mention of weed, men being creeps, smoking, sexual tension, kissing and a touch of fluff?, "girls are prettier without glasses" speech (ugh), maybe a few mistakes and nonsense

• read the second part here

The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. — The Picture of Dorian Gray

Johnny’s lips hovered over yours, mixing his warm breath with your shaky exhales. You had never felt so connected to another human being before. Never felt your soul leaving your body that way. And here you were now, nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

A deep, unwavering sexual tension had tethered you to Johnny for hours. Even since you had stepped into the house, actually. It had been hard to see right through the smoke, even more since you had decided to ditch your glasses for the night, just for the experience. Well, it had been a fucking mistake. All the faces were blurry, and you swore you introduced yourself twice to the same people, all of them hoisting their beer and exchanging looks you didn't quite understand.

It doesn’t matter, your friends told you. They won’t remember anything the next morning. You supposed it was a relief, to think people would forget about you in just a few hours. At least until you saw that guy who had been standing in a corner the whole time.

No, not a guy. A real man, with broad shoulders and a certain way of carrying himself. Even from across the room, you knew he was respected.

It had taken you longer than necessary to reach the kitchen behind a group of wobbly men, bumping into shoulders and apologizing inaudibly. Someone talked to you but you barely paid any attention, giving a small "okay" instead as you focused on getting to the kitchen in one piece.

Rubbing your eyelid tiredly, you nearly scratched your eye out when a hand closed around your wrist, though it felt warm and gentle.

“Hey.”

The man from the corner was looking down at you, worry flickering in his eyes. So close to you, he was even more handsome. Full lips, a face that carried memories. Clearly, he had seen a lot.

“Ya need help?”

“No?” You dragged the syllable, confused as you shot a look at your friends. The three of them had crashed on a couch, their loud laughter drawing attention. You might have looked drunk though, you gave him that. “I’m just headin’ for the kitchen. Gotta drink some water before I start feelin’ all…”

Your vague hand motion made his lips twitch in amusement, which pulled a smile to your lips too. It slightly faded when he removed his hand from you, and you turned back around.

So he had noticed you.

A strong scent of alcohol and weed burned your nostrils when you walked over to the sink, your eyes sweeping over the room to find where the glasses were stocked. Littered cups filled with some sort of alcohol mix had your nose wrinkled up at the smell, wondering what was wrong with those people. Did they really enjoy drinking this? Finally, stacked glasses that seemed clean enough caught your eyes.

And now that same man was standing at the threshold.

“I’m old enough to be left on my own, y'know," you said sarcastically, almost nervous to be left alone with him. Was he one of the creeps? Or just a man bored to death?

In response, he nodded like you had made a great point. “Just don’t want ya to feel unsafe, is all.”

You shrugged, retrieving a glass, checking it was somewhat clean, and filling it with water. “I know how to throw a punch. I've been taught the basics.”

“Show me, then.”

The three words made your heartbeat faster. With your free hand, you closed your fist, barely thinking.

“Nah. Ya’d break your thumb like that.”

Your gaze flitted to your hand for a second. “Yeah. Probably.”

Another nod was addressed to you, and a moment of silence wrapped you both in a comfortable bubble. You drank the water silently while he kept his eyes on you, which would have looked truly odd did he not seem safe. He looked exhausted, though. Maybe a bit entertained. Maybe like he’d been waiting for someone like you to light up his evening.

“I’m Johnny.”

You gave your name back, watching his smile that definitely shouldn’t have caused a hot nudge in your lower body, considering he would surely move on from you the next day.

Still, the tension choked you as he stepped further into the room, picking up a bottle of beer in a bucket. Your hand tightened against the glass when you opened your mouth to ask where he was from–the usual small talk you used when silence made you uneasy–and instantly closed it as two bearded men barged in, ruining the moment.

“I say, "You ain’t goin’ nowhere, motherfucker",” the first one spat, waving a gun in the air. “I captured you.”

Swallowing thickly at the sight of the small handgun, you set the glass back down into the sink and glanced over at Johnny. Your senses returned to you enough to do some calculations. From what you could see, you could slip beside him and make your way back to your friends swiftly. But those two creeps had spotted you, standing there like an outsider or just a woman, and nerves started filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps toward freedom. There was no way you were staying there to risk being shot accidentally. What a stupid end that would make.

Johnny’s brow furrowed at those guys and back at you, sensing your discomfort. He tipped the drink to his mouth, taking a long sip as you took a deep breath.

“I think I’ll head out,” you announced quietly, ignoring the men’s hot gazes on your back.

It was a shame to leave so fast, but maybe you just weren’t meant to be talking to Johnny. You believed in all that stuff fiercely.

Johnny’s head turned around, watching behind him before meeting your eyes again. “I can’t see your friends.”

“Oh, they must be smokin’ somewhere out there.”

Giving a small nod, he stepped closer to you and left his beer near the sink. “I’ll walk ya out.”

You cleared your throat, trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts racing through your brain. His hand settled on your lower back as he guided you to the back door, and you didn’t think once. Perhaps you'd finally have that time alone with him, after all. He didn’t look like he wanted to leave either.

The cold breeze hit you in the face as you squinted through the darkness, praying hard not to fall or trip or do anything embarrassing in front of him. And that was exactly what you did. The couple of stairs were poorly lighted, and there was only one idiot to miss that one step. You.

“Shit,” you stumbled, chuckling awkwardly when you felt Johnny’s hand on your waist, making sure you were not collapsing.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

Maybe it was his big hands on you, or maybe it was just the one beer you had drunk, but the wind seemed less cold, less aggressive on your skin. God, he looked so... attractive.

A small smile graced his lips as he gazed down at you, almost checking you out. “Should’ve slowed down on the beers.”

Another giggle escaped your lips, trying not to shrink under his gaze. “It’s not about the beers, promise. I just can’t see nothin’ without my glasses.”

“You lost ‘em?” Johnny asked, a wrinkle appearing between his brows.

“No. Um… I’ve been told girls are prettier without glasses.”

He made a sound. Kept frowning. That was your cue to blabber on.

“Not that I found myself… unattractive. I just thought I could try one night without wearin' them. Which was really stupid, considerin’ I’ve almost died at least twice.”

You pursued your lips as you caught a whiff of his scent on his leather jacket, willing yourself to shut up and flee. As you were supposed to. And yet, as dumb as you sounded, Johnny’s eyes were fixed on yours and did not leave for a moment. He was listening carefully, blocking out the world to hear your silly explanation.

“You’re not unattractive,” he said in a low voice. "I bet they make ya look even prettier."

“How would you know?” your tone matched his, your blood heating another degree.

Johnny came closer, raising his hands to run his thumbs above your cheeks, where your glasses usually fell. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, but they were beautiful. Dark. Full of fantasies.

“Just imaginin’,” his raspy voice sent a hot shiver down your spine. "I've been lookin' at ya since you walked in, but I hadn’t noticed those freckles right there."

Your heart hammered in your chest. It was all going so fast, but the mere thought of slowing things down was absurd. You couldn’t think of anything but feeling his lips on yours. Moving your body with his. Feeling so wanted he might die, and you as well. You usually were careful and rather shy when it came to flirting, but why would you resist the temptation now?

The party didn’t matter. The people out there didn’t matter. Hell, even your friends didn’t matter. It was only you and the man you had checked out (ogled) all night, the man who had made sure you were feeling safe, the man who had caught you in his arms like they did in the movies.

It did feel like a movie anyway. None of this felt real.

“I can’t see much, but you look pretty attractive too,” you dared to say, though you wished you had sounded bolder.

His lips nearly touched yours. The top of your noses did, causing you to chuckle. What was even happening?

“See me better now?” Johnny muttered, angling his face.

"Much better."

"Good."

You had known a few men, kissed a few of them, but nothing had ever come close to this particular moment. Nothing had ever felt so exciting, so hot and passionate. You didn’t want him to forget you. Fuck, you were sure you would think of these minutes until your last breath. You needed to have him, even for a short moment.

Nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

“Johnny?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Emboldened by his widening smile, you closed what little distance was left between your mouths and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, just testing the waters. You hadn’t expected it to feel that good. Like a taste of heaven. Gripping his shoulders, you drew yourself high against his chest and slipped your tongue into his mouth, a tiny sound mixing with a groan of his. His hands pressed against your back, holding your waist like a fragile doll as yours slid to the back of his head. Fuelled by the need to make him moan again, you wrapped both arms up around his neck until you were shamelessly making out on the grass, wishing he could do something to alleviate the burning in your body. It was bewitching.

You were out of breath when you landed on your feet again, as though you had just taken a trip to the stars for a minute. Clearly, Johnny was as dazed as you were.

Looking over his shoulder, you found no less than ten faces peering out the window, and a couple more watching from the front porch. Smoking. You bet your friends had seen it all.

“Shit,” you whispered, at a loss for words.

Johnny ran his thumb over your lip, his eyes tracing his own movements as he did. ‘Tell me where ya live.”

Forgetting everything about the safety rules you had always followed when it came to men, you whispered, “Next to the shoe store. I work there on weekends.”

The detail had slipped out, but you just wished he would suggest picking you up someday. Don’t let him forget you, your brain kept saying. You couldn’t be anticipating the saddest goodbye of your life yet.

“You’re workin’ tomorrow?”

A bit of hope flickered in your chest. Men usually fucked off after getting what they wanted, but he seemed really into you. That was unreal.

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” you grinned playfully, chuckling as he nodded.

"Tomorrow’s Friday," Johnny repeated, realizing his mistake. "Guess I don’t wanna spend one day waitin’ to see ya again."

“Me either,” you admitted lowly, removing a strand of hair sticking to your lips. “You can—you can still come on Saturday, if you want to.”

“You’ve been on a motorcycle before?”

You shook your head, wondering why you felt so bashful all of a sudden. Johnny’s lips curved at your hesitancy, holding your gaze for a moment. His eyes full of promises again.

“Hmm. Ya should leave before I keep ya out here with me,” he declared, snapping you out of your thoughts as he squeezed your hip gently and stepped backward.

And with that, the moment was gone.

“Saturday, then?” you asked, just to make sure.

You sounded almost desperate, but you couldn’t care. There was something scary about being so attracted to someone so fast. What if a simple change of heart left you heartbroken?

“Saturday,” Johnny confirmed, making it sound like it was years away.

You dropped your gaze for a second and raised it again to look at him one last time, the steadying sounds of your breathings filling the cold air. Johnny broke the eye-contact to check that your friends were still standing in the distance.

“Ya need help walkin’ over there?”

The question made you smile. “I’ll be alright. I’ll try to walk in a straight line and avoid people."

Johnny’s stare could have been a good reason to stay with him and let him keep you, but after a second of hesitancy, you willed yourself to utter a small ‘Well, see you, then’. You made a beeline to your friends, blinking a couple of times as though your vision would become clear again.

You shot one look behind. Johnny was waiting for you to reach the others, not moving.

They all shouted in your ear when you stepped on the tiled floor, but you weren’t listening. Just thinking of how fast it all could change when you least expected it. You weren't fully sure he'd really show up in two days, so you crossed your fingers during the whole ride back home and hoped he wouldn't forget. You were already longing for this man’s touch.

#the bikeriders fanfiction #thebikeriders #johnny davis #johnny davis x reader #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #benny cross x reader

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dearsnow · 7 months ago

Text

MANIC MOVES & DROWSY DREAMS (3)

- after discovering something that forces all of your relationship’s problems to the surface, you seek solace in your only potential friend in san diego. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader, hurt with future comfort, part of the series “out of touch” ⚠️ ADULT TOPICS, please be 18+ to read)

OUT OF TOUCH: It’s been twenty years since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw, and, suddenly, you realize he’s finally grown up.

word count: 3,110

a/n - this chapter is lowkey crazy 😭 i hope y’all enjoy because i’ve had a blast writing this. the next chapter might take a bit to write up because i need to plan out the rest of the series, but it hopefully shouldn’t take tooo long!!

The next few days were relatively uneventful as you attempted to get your life in perfect working order. There were a few visits from the navy men, with Fanboy (who you learned was actually named Mickey) being one of your best customers until he witnessed firsthand your boyfriend giving you flowers and a peck on the cheek. He seemed a bit crestfallen after that, but you knew he would perk up eventually. He hadn’t gone through it for nothing, though- you always slipped him an extra cookie sample when he came by.

The best part of your life was not interviewing potential employees or ordering more vintage tables, but instead, it was Derick. He was truly your rock in the midst of a change that otherwise would’ve thrown you into chaos.

He handled your calls, he mopped the floors and shined the counter, and he took you on amazing dates. You can firmly say that you’ve never had a boyfriend as respectful and supportive as him.

Too respectful, however, is an ever-present problem.

You’ve been with him for almost fifteen years and you can reasonably count the times he’s been anything other than a perfect family-friendly gentleman. If you look back on it, it was probably around fifty-two instances.

That seems like a lot, but spread out over fifteen years of young adult antics, it’s almost like he didn’t want to be intimate. He didn’t want to make out, or put a hand just a bit too low on your waist, or do anything passionate or fiery or heated. He just wanted dinner dates, a kiss on the cheek, and a hand to hold. You were fine with that, because in essence, that’s what you needed at the time, right? Stability. Comfort. Romance. Someone to wipe away your insecurities and hold you down at ground level.

A lingering thought, always bouncing around in the back of your mind, whispers that it shouldn’t take hours of tempting and teasing for a guy to want you.

You ignore all of that for right now. Derick is currently sitting across the table from you at the fanciest restaurant in the area.

Fancy places always make you a little nervous. You’re afraid to say the wrong thing or mispronounce a word on the menu, and your dresses get rumpled as you fidget with them. Even your nail polish doesn’t survive as you pick at the edges with your thumb. Derick smiles.

“What are you thinking about ordering?” He asks, setting his own menu down. You cease your picking and clear your throat. He looks especially nice tonight, with his dark hair gelled back and his black suit nice and crisp. It doesn’t quite fit with your dress, though you suppose it doesn’t need to.

“Uh, the caprese salad sounds good.” It’s the cheapest thing on the menu. He always pays, but you know that he gets a bit bothered when the bill racks up too high. You’ve offered to pay for yourself numerous times, but he waves the suggestion away, even when his face makes it known that he doesn’t want to.

“I make more money than you, babe, just let me take care of it.”

You try to smile sweetly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. If he can tell, he doesn’t show it.

“Sounds good. I’m having the truffle alfredo myself.” He flags down a waiter, and you shrink a bit in your seat.

You can tell that this night is going to be another awkward one. After being with someone for so long, you come to expect certain things. Despite that, you wouldn’t trade this stability for anything. He makes good money, he buys you gifts, and once or twice a year, he’ll even sleep with you. What more could a girl want?

Bradley hasn’t had stability in a long time. He has a home in San Diego, sure, but going out for drinks every once and a while with people who have vastly different schedules isn’t really enough to make him want to stay. In truth, he almost misses being deployed because, at least then, he has a purpose.

When he saw you, he thought he might have an opportunity to right a wrong that has been tearing him up inside. He despises what he was like as a teenager, taking nothing seriously except his dreams to be a naval aviator. He’s learned throughout his life that everything matters, especially the feelings of other people, and even the small, mundane things he couldn’t care less about. The small, mundane things are what keep the world working.

He’s sitting on his couch, enjoying a small, mundane thing (a shitty reality show with acting so bad it makes him laugh) when an unknown number lights up his phone. He perks up, staring at the number as the reality show carries on. It’s probably just a spam number, but on the off chance it’s you, he picks up.

“Hello?” He hates how shaky his voice sounds. Just the idea of you sets his nerves on fire.

“I need a friend,” your soft voice mumbles. “Where can we meet? A place that serves strong alcohol would be preferable.”

Right after your early dinner date with Derick, you walked into your shared apartment, boxes lining every walkway. You really ought to have put everything away more quickly, but after a long day’s work, all you and your boyfriend could seem to do was pull out a few objects and give them a place in your new living quarters.

He immediately went to take a shower, as he usually did after a long day, and placed his locked phone on your nightstand. You collapsed onto your bed and looked up at the ceiling, still dressed, and began to dread opening shop in the morning. You love the cafe, but your lack of employees hits harder every day.

Derick had been handling most of the hiring process, with the good majority of the interviewees being his connections. It was helpful having a business major boyfriend, as his college networking and current accountant networking proved extremely useful for managing an actual business. He was always so enthusiastic about helping you run the place. You seriously don’t know what you would do without him.

His phone lit up next to you with a series of texts. You lazily let your gaze drift over to see what was going on. He wouldn’t mind if you checked who was texting, right? When you picked up his phone, the name that popped up was “employee candidate 4”. You smiled to yourself; Derick was so responsible, you thought. He must have given the candidates his number to see if they needed anything.

You unlocked his phone with your thumbprint, which you so sneakily added to his password bank a few months ago when you first started collaborating on the cafe’s business plan. What you saw made your heart drop down to the floor, splintering into a million little pieces that got stuck in your fresh linoleum.

Bradley hands you another drink, a strong one at that, and you gulp half of it down in one breath. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

You look up at him through your eyelashes, makeup half-rubbed off from tears and friction. The sun began to set when you first entered, and in the dimming light, Bradley could tell that you were rattled. You still are, evidently. He waits for a moment before you clear your throat and offer a few gut-punching words.

“I checked my boyfriend’s phone.” He can tell where this is going. He doesn’t want it to be true, because who in their right mind would cheat on you?

“What was on it?” He prompts gently. You take another breath. You don’t want to dump this all on someone that you barely know, with the only history you have being a failed almost-relationship when you were teenagers, but you don’t have anyone else. When you moved to San Diego, you left everything behind, including your friends and family. You haven’t even talked to your friends in ages, as you’ve been so busy with the cafe and Derick that you couldn’t so much as call them. The idea of having Bradley nurse your broken heart is both gut-wrenching and just a little bit like a dream.

“A lot. I… I don’t want to ruin your night by bothering you. I should go.” You try to stand up from your bar stool, but he catches your wrist in his warm hands.

He shakes his head, eyebrows creased. “Just tell me. I’m here for you; I meant what I said in the cafe.” You nod, fresh tears welling up in your eyes as you sit down.

“I’ll get a few drinks in me first.”

You keep your word, managing to take down a sizable amount of alcohol within a few minutes. It’s not enough to get you passing out or throwing up, but enough to loosen your lips.

“Do you want to know what I saw?” Your face is warm, either from the alcohol or Bradley’s hand on your back. “Twenty-eight photos of his dick. It isn’t even good enough to warrant one photo, Bradley, one! None of them were sent to me, of course. Just the girls he would chat up online and fuck.” The words tumble out of your mouth, every pent-up frustration making its way into the light of the bar. “I looked through his search history, too, and then our finances, because I was suspicious of everything at that point. I found four subscriptions to porn sites in our bills and three more for online dating premium memberships. Who the fuck even needs a premium membership? God. I hate him.”

“Slow down, princess.” He says. His lips are quirked into a small smile as you ramble on and on about every small thing Derick has ever done to piss you off. “He seems like a real piece of work.”

“He is! He so is. I never get to order what I want, he always makes me feel responsible for his mistakes, and not once has he made me finish. I mean, we’ve had sex maybe twice in the last two years because he can’t get it up. Probably because he’s been sticking his dick in STD central.” Those last few items slip through your internal filter, but even in your state, you recognize that you probably shouldn’t be talking about your sex life with a guy you re-met a few days ago. “Sorry. That was personal.”

Bradley lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Nothin’ I can’t handle. I can’t believe you stayed with him that long when he can’t do a single thing for you. If you were my girl, you wouldn’t know a day without pleasure.” It’s his turn to be embarrassed about what he said, but as his cheeks turn red, you don’t even seem to notice.

If you were his girl, he thinks, he’d treat you so well. He’d actually get you your favorite flowers instead of the ones he thinks would look nice in the aesthetic of your apartment, and he’d cook for you, and he’d never make you feel bad for loving him.

“Exactly.” You say. “He just wanted someone to come home to without even thinking about how I would feel. I wanted stability, and he gave me that, but nothing else.” You suddenly sound sober, but the tears are back, and they’re stronger than ever. “I loved him.” You choke out. “I don’t think I could ever get something better, not after so long.”

Bradley feels bad for even considering picking you up after this. You’re distraught, more than he’s ever seen anyone before. It’s clear that this is something you’re going to take a while to heal from. “You can and you will. He’s a dick, and I’m sorry you wasted so much time on him, but you will find some kind of relationship that deserves you. You can have a fresh start, and he’ll just be another asshole that you put in your past.”

You nod, taking in his words as you sip your soda. Bradley cut you off a while ago, which you’re eternally grateful for. If you had one more sip of alcohol, you think you'd either be dancing on a table or crying on the floor. Now, at least you’re crying upright in a stool, with the man across from you handing you tissues once in a while. The lady running the bar seems to know him, and she also seems to know that an endless supply of tissues is necessary for you tonight.

The doors of the bar open, and though you don’t want to peel yourself away from the sight of someone caring about you, you turn around anyway. When you do, your blood runs cold.

Bradley sees you stiffen and follows your line of sight to the person that just walked in. He’s handsome, in a way, with short, dark brown hair and a five-o-clock shadow. He seems like the stuck-up type. Your eyes are blown wide at the sight as the man walks over, a sort of fake concern lacing his expression.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking call me that, Derick. How did you even find me?” Oh. The soon-to-be ex. Bradley sits up on his stool, pulling himself to a position where he can easily stand if the moment calls for it.

Derick pulls out his phone sheepishly. “You left your location on.”

Goddamnit. Fuck.

“Get out. I don’t want to see you right now.” You’re seething, the anger coming off you in waves. You think that if you weren’t angry, you’d be sad, and you can’t handle that right now. The devastation of finding out your boyfriend is a freak and a cheater is something you just opened the box to, and you don’t feel like unpacking it in front of him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He protests. “They didn’t mean anything to me. I love you, and I want to marry you, and I’ll never do it again. I- I have the ring right here, see?” He pulls out a familiar velvet-lined box, and you scoff.

“You should’ve thought about that before you cheated. Multiple times.”

Bradley stands up, placing a soothing hand between your shoulder blades. “Leave, man. She’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want you here.”

Derick bristles, his pasty face tinged red with anger. Bradley almost rolls his eyes at how small he looks. “You don’t need to stick up for her.” He takes a step forward. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were fucking her behind my back. That’s what this is, isn’t it? An excuse for you to leave me because some navy fucker had some nice enough sex with you?” He’s approaching fast. By the time he finishes his sentence, Derick’s fist is wrapped around your wrist tightly.

You let out a soft sound as his bruising fingers close around you, but as soon as he’s there, Bradley shoves him away and loosens his grip on you. “Okay, that’s enough. You’re either going to walk through those doors or you’re getting dragged out. I don’t care which.”

Derick scoffs. “Fine with me. I never liked you anyways.” He gives you a pointed glance, tucking the ring box into his jacket pocket.

“You have tonight to get your stuff out of the apartment that I paid for.” You say, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your thumb. “I never want to see you again.” The second part comes out as a mumble, but he clearly gets the message.

“Fuck you.” He walks out, and the group of navy men by the door give him a dirty look. He’s more than ruined multiple peoples’ nights by this point. It went from one crying girl at a bar to the start of a bar fight in the two minutes he stood in front of you.

Bradley, concerned, gives you a soft look. “Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

You shake your head as more tears drip down your jaw. You hate this. You hate Derick, you hate yourself, and you hate the pitiful way Bradley is staring at you. Your California dream has turned into a nightmare. “No, but I’ll get a hotel somewhere. It’s not that big of a deal.” Your attempt to downplay the situation has Bradley on the verge of running after Derick and slapping the back of his big groomed head. You’re too nice for this, too sweet to be cheated on and forced to sleep in a cold bed that you paid $200 for.

“You can stay over at my place if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t want to put you out like that. It’s fine,” you assure him, though your voice is the least sure it’s ever been. “There’s a nice enough place a few streets away.”

Bradley shakes his head. His warm hand is on your shoulder, like he’s trying to ground you. “It won’t put me out. C’mon, princess, it’s not a big deal. You can rest up and we’ll figure out what else to do in the morning.”

He called you “princess” again. It’s nice, you think, in your drunken mind. Right now, you’re too tired to fight anything about the situation you’re in. “Alright. As long as you’re sure.”

He pays your tabs, slipping a look to the lady running the bar. She nods at him and mouths something that you can’t quite make out. As he leads you to his car, a nice, blue, vintage bronco, he keeps one hand on the small of your back. The heat feels nice, like you have someone securing you. Like you won’t ever stumble or fall before his strong arms catch you. He must be a real nice guy if he’s doing all this after so long.

He buckles you into your seat, and you let your head fall back onto the headrest. Your eyes close, and you desperately try not to think about what your life has come to. You feel a buzz in your jacket pocket, but you don’t pick it up. Everything is fine, you assure yourself. You didn’t just break up with the man you were going to marry, and he didn’t cheat on you, and your phone isn’t going off wildly through the fabric of your coat, and you’re not strapped into the car of your high school self’s dream boy. You ride that feeling, that denial, right into sleep.

You’ll deal with the real life problems in the morning.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

Taglist: @m1dnightsnackz @itsarabellebabes @shanimallina87 @sadgirlgiselle @callsignstingray

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jwirecs · 2 years ago

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RECOMMENDED SEVENTEEN FICS OF MAY-JUNE 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my recs for seventeen for may-june! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝 (i discovered that combining atz/svt/skz&txt into one post may be too much and too long + might take too much space in the tags for each respective groups so i’ve decided to make them all separate!)

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

[04:15AM] || @fairyhaos💕✅💯💯

↳ Requested by one of their readers. (THE AMOUNT OF SOFTNESS AND FLUFF AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)

Blood Moon || @smileysuh🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ ".....let’s just say, you’re all that matters to me now. And I’m going to worship you as if you were the moon” (idk this author personally, but i just wanna say that i love your fics and everyone needs to give atleast their fic a read! you will be seeing their fics in my nct fic recs too just saying.)

Drunk Giant || @yikesmary💕✅

↳ in which you have to figure out how to transfer your drunk boyfriend to the bedroom without causing major bodily harm. and he’s not making it easy for you.

The Athlete (Bonus) || @sun-kore 🔞💕✅💯

↳ You are assigned to do an interview with Kwon Soonyoung, the trailblazing athlete everyone calls Hoshi. But as you spend more time with him, you start to see there are more layers to him than football. (i honestly had to re-read The Athlete because i forgot how the story went. + it was a given to read the first one before the second one. i suggest yall do the same.)

How To Unsubscribe To Dating || @dropsofletters💕💔✅

↳ on april 18th, hansol likes his favorite youtuber’s instagram picture. not because of her content—though, he finds himself laughing at all of her weekly videos—but because he thinks she’s gorgeous. that is how it ends. just a like on a picture that no one will see.

This Is How We Fall || @bitterie-sweetie💕💔✅💯

↳ You should know better than to make a deal with a stranger, but the need for a date to Minghao’s party has you desperate. It can’t be too bad though; all you have to do is show Mingyu what you saw in your reading, and he would be your date for one night. Simple enough, right?

A Sheep In Wolf’s Clothing || @rubyreduji🔞✅

↳ kim mingyu is the biggest player on campus, so why is he coming to you for sex help

Doting On You || @lovelyhan🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ a svt hhu x pets series!

Fallin’ Flowers || @leejungchans💕💔🔄💯💯💯

↳ "while flowers bloom and falls, scars cure and buds shoot // we are living our first and last moments // so i won’t take you for granted // because you loved me as i am” - fallin’ flower by seventeen

I Found Love In Your Smile || @wonlouvre🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ falling in love with wonwoo never felt so easy. however, when unforgivable truths test your relationship, you can’t help but think that maybe you were betrothed for all the wrong reasons.

Inflection Point || @lovelyhan🔞💕💔✅

↳ you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.

Money Talks || @sunlightwoo💕💔✅💯💯

↳ everybody needs to get by somehow, and what better way of it is through a ‘club’ full of men that are loaded with money to help pay for whatever you need help with? to put it shortly, thirteen sugar daddies are here to help you pay for what you need or give you money in exchange for something to make them feel better about life.

Puppy Parents || @yikesmary💕✅

↳ where your golden retriever has the tendency to bring you things she has an interest in— sticks, frisbees that obviously don’t belong to you, and even the occasional bird. but this time, your dog brings… a man? and not just any man, only the most beautiful man you’ve ever met. maybe your dog is onto something…

Partner Privilege || @blue-jisungs💕💔✅

↳ (title says it all, i can honestly see this happening to their future s/o.)

Feverish Lips || @sunlightwoo💔✅

↳ you’d think that because it’s the first semester of the year, it’d be like the beginning of a roller coaster when its slowly becoming climatic and stressful. however, once you’re at the top of the point you have two choices: scream your lungs or quickly hang onto your life support. sadly in your case, you can either suck it up and get through it, or get involved in its loops in tangles with trouble that is bound to be met within every corner that you turn to.

Introduce Me A Good Person || @taeyegu 💕💔✅

↳ if there is a nice person, please introduce him to me. sometimes like water, sometimes like fire. someone who can love me sincerely. i hope he is someone who is mature and faithful…

What I Would Do || @sungbeam 💕💔✅

↳ minghao is kinda sorta maybe in love with you, but he thinks you're so out of his league.

Meet Cute of The Century || @lovelyhan 🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.

Do check out all of the other seventeen fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #seventeen social media au #seventeen reactions #seventeen established relationship au #seventeen fake dating au #seventeen fic recs #seventeen recs #seventeen strangers to lovers au

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crowleysgirl56 · 11 months ago

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Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 17.

Sex! That’s right we’re going there. Because my latest random post got a lot of differing opinions (which was really just for shits and giggles. Nothing I say should be taken seriously 😜) I thought I’d address what my actual prediction and also wildest hope for season 3 is.

I think what we will get is an implied sex scene. For a number of reasons.

1. The tone of the show is not explicit. Even though you can definitely point to other Amazon Prime shows that will go there (exhibit A: American Gods), I don’t think we would get that for Good Omens.

2. It’s a comedy. So if anything we would get something that is almost silly. Probably to parallel the ridiculous and funny sex scene between Anathema and Newt in season 1 (think of them under the bed popping in and out of frame as papers fly everywhere). I don’t think the S3 scene would be specifically played for laughs, because this is the type of show that is very respectful of a same sex relationship. We’ve had way too many horrible experiences for decades of television programs playing up “men having sex = stupid/silly/funny/not serious/etc”. Neil would not let something like this happen (Exhibit B: American Gods, again). So I would suggest the situation leading up to the act would probably be ridiculous or something we can laugh at, but the act itself would not.

3. Neil reblogged a post a few months ago and annoyingly I can’t find it. But it had something to do with same sex coupling in media and how important it is, and he basically said something along the lines of “I don’t write these kinds of scenes but now I wish I did”. I think he was possible responding to someone saying “Neil wouldn’t do something like that”. That’s a pretty interesting thought and a very pointed comment to make at a time when he had either just started writing season 3, or right before it. Or at least that’s when I saw the post. This is Tumblr so for all I know it could have been posted 2 years ago (seriously, how does Tumblr work? I’ve only been here 6 months!).

So what do I think will ACTUALLY happen? I think we’ll get Crowley and Aziraphale passionately kiss, get to Aziraphale’s bedroom and then fall onto the bed out of shot. If we’re lucky we might get close up shots of hands intertwining, more kissing, some removal of clothing perhaps. Then the scene would shift outside to Whickber street. People will probably noticing a trembling in the ground. Maybe in Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death we see tea and coffee cups rattling on the table and Nina looking confused and concerned. Then a brilliant white light pours out of the upper floor window of the book shop. Cut back to Aziraphale and Crowley holding each other and panting, but it’s a tasteful shoulders up shot.

Subtle, implied, still pretty hot.

So in the mean time, if you want something explicit, to AO3 my fellow Smutgoblins!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #i can dream can’t i?#david tennant #michael sheen #good omens season 3 #wildest dreams #smutgoblins #good omens headcanons

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ros64 · 17 days ago

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Written in My Own Heart's Blood

Chapter 66

“None shall sleep.” It was a piece—a melody, as Brianna had called it—from an opera he knew; she had performed in a university production of it, dressed in Chinese clothing. Ian smiled, imagining his tall cousin, towering over so many men, gliding across a stage with silk garments swishing around her; he would have loved to see her. He had begun thinking of her the moment he opened the small deerskin pouch containing his face pigments. Bree was a painter, and a talented one at that. She ground her own pigments, had made him the red ochre, as well as the black and white from charcoal and dried clay. She had even crafted a deep green from crushed malachite and a bright yellow from the bile of a buffalo she’d killed with her mother. No one else had colors so vivid, and for a moment, he wished Turtle Eater and others from his Mohawk tribe were there to admire them.

The camp noises in the distance reminded him of the cicadas’ song by riverside trees: a buzz too loud to think, yet fading once you adjusted to it. None shall sleep… Women and children might sleep… but certainly not the whores. Not tonight. That thought brought a twitch he quickly dismissed. He thought of Rachel, and dismissed her, too, though reluctantly.

He opened the willow-bark box where he kept the deer fat and smeared it on his face, chest, and shoulders, slowly, focusing. Normally, during this ritual, he would call upon the spirits of the earth and then his saints, Michael and Brigid. But tonight, neither was present; Brianna lingered in his mind instead, though her image was beginning to fade. Most of all, he felt his father’s presence, which unsettled him. It didn’t seem respectful to dismiss his father. He stopped what he was doing and closed his eyes instead, trying to discern whether Papa had something to tell him.

“I hope you haven’t come to speak to me about my death, aye?” he said aloud. “Because I don’t intend to die—not before I’ve lain with Rachel, at least.”

“Well, a noble goal, to be sure.”

The dry voice belonged to Uncle Jamie. Ian’s eyes shot open. His uncle stood amid the branches of a willow drooping into the water, wearing nothing but his shirt.

“Out of uniform, eh, Uncle?” Ian said, though his heart jumped like a startled deer mouse. “General Washington won’t be pleased.”

Washington was meticulous about his men’s uniforms. Officers were to be properly dressed at all times; he said the Continentals would never be taken as a proper army if they appeared on the battlefield like a disordered mob with weapons.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Ian,” Jamie said, stepping out from the willow. The moon was nearly set; he looked like a specter, bare-legged with his shirt billowing. “But who were you talking to?”

“Oh. To Papa. He was… here, in my mind, aye? I mean, I think of him often, but it’s rare to feel him with me. So, I wondered if he’d come to tell me I’m going to die today.”

Jamie nodded; the idea didn’t seem to disturb him.

“I doubt it,” he said. “You’re painting your face with war colors, aye? You’re preparing.”

“Aye, I was about to. Want some, too?”

He said it half-jokingly, but Jamie took it as humor.

“I would, Ian. But I think General Washington would have me strung up by my thumbs and flogged if I showed up to the lines with my face painted like a Mohawk.”

Ian let out a small amused sound and dipped two fingers into the red ochre, smearing it across his chest.

“And what are you doing here in just a shirt?”

“I was washing,” Jamie replied, though his tone suggested there was more to the story. “And… speaking with my dead.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“My uncle Dougal and Murtagh, my godfather. They’re the two I’d most want beside me in battle.” He shifted slightly, uneasy. “If I can, I take a moment to be alone before a battle. To wash, you know… and to pray. And… to ask them to stand with me.”

Ian found this interesting; he hadn’t known either man, both having died at Culloden, though he’d heard many stories about them.

“Two fine warriors,” he said. “Did you ask my father to join you, too? Maybe that’s why he’s here.”

Jamie turned sharply to his nephew, surprised. Then he relaxed, shaking his head.

“I’ve never had to ask Ian Mòr,” he said quietly. “He was… always with me.” He made a brief gesture toward the darkness on his right.

Ian felt his eyes sting and a lump rise in his throat. But it was dark; it didn’t matter. He cleared his throat and handed Jamie one of his pigment dishes.

“Give me a hand, Uncle Jamie?”

“Oh? Aye, of course. How do you want the marks?”

“Red on the forehead… but I can do that myself. Black from the dots to the chin.” He traced a finger along the line of dotted tattoos curving beneath his cheekbones. “Black is for strength, aye? It says you’re a warrior. And yellow means you’re not afraid to die.”

“Oh, aye. Want the yellow today?”

“No.” His tone revealed a faint smile, and Jamie laughed.

Jamie spread some color with a brush made from a rabbit’s paw, then smoothed it evenly with his thumb. Ian closed his eyes, feeling a new strength surge under that touch.

“You usually do this yourself, Ian? Seems hard without a mirror.”

“Mostly. Or we do it in a group, and a brother from the tribe paints you. If it’s something significant—like a large raid or a war—it’s the medicine man who paints us while singing.”

“Tell me you don’t want me to sing, Ian,” Jamie muttered. “I mean, I could try, but…”

“I’ll manage without, thanks.”

Black for the lower face, red for the forehead, and a stripe of malachite green across the tattoo line from ear to ear, over the nose. Ian studied the pigment dishes and quickly spotted the white, which he pointed to.

“Maybe you could draw a small arrow for me, Uncle? On the forehead.” He traced a finger across his brow to show where.

“Aye.”

Jamie bent over the dishes, hand poised. “But didn’t you tell me once that white is for peace?”

“Aye; if you’re going to confer or negotiate, you use plenty of white. But it’s also for mourning: so, you’d probably use it for vengeance, too.”

At those words, Jamie raised his head and looked at him intently.

“The arrow’s not for revenge,” Ian explained. “It’s for Flying Arrow. The dead man whose place I took when I was adopted.”

He tried to keep his tone casual but felt Jamie tense and look down. Neither would ever forget the day of the separation, when Ian had gone to the Kahnyen’kehaka, and they had thought it was forever.

Now Jamie bent and placed a hand on Ian’s arm.

“That day, Uncle Jamie, you told me: ‘Cuimhnich.’ And I have. Remember.”

“I have, too, Ian,” Jamie said softly, drawing the arrow on his forehead like a priest making the sign of the cross on Ash Wednesday. “We all have. It’s right.”

Ian cautiously touched the green stripe to ensure it was dry enough.

“Aye, I think it’s fine. You know Bree made these pigments for me? I was thinking of her, but then I thought maybe I shouldn’t bring her into this.”

He felt Jamie’s breath on his skin as his uncle huffed and leaned against the willow.

“A man always brings his women into battle, Ian Òg. They’re the root of your strength.”

“Oh, aye?” It made sense, and Ian felt relieved. Yet… “I was thinking it might not be right to think of Rachel in a place like this. Considering she’s a Quaker.”

Jamie dipped his middle finger into deer fat, then into the white clay powder, and delicately painted a large, deep “V” near the crest of Ian’s right shoulder. Even in the dark, it stood out vividly.

“A white dove,” Jamie said, nodding. He seemed satisfied. “This will be Rachel, for you.”

He wiped his fingers on a rock, then stood and stretched his muscles. Ian saw him turn eastward. It was still night, but the air had changed in the brief time they’d sat together. Uncle Jamie’s tall figure stood out sharply against the sky, where before it had seemed part of the darkness.

“An hour, no more,” Jamie said. “Eat something first, aye?”

With that, he turned back to the stream, and to his interrupted prayers.

«Nessun dorma.» Era un brano – un’aria, così l’aveva chiamata Brianna – di un’opera che conosceva; vi aveva recitato in una rappresentazione universitaria, vestita in abiti cinesi. Ian sorrise, pensando a sua cugina, che superava in altezza tanti uomini, mentre si muoveva su un palcoscenico, facendo frusciare gli indumenti di seta intorno a lei; avrebbe tanto voluto vederla. Aveva cominciato a pensare a lei nell’istante in cui aveva aperto la piccola sacca di pelle di daino in cui teneva i colori per il viso. Era una pittrice, Bree, ed era molto brava. Macinava da sola i pigmenti, e gli aveva fatto l’ocra rossa, e anche il nero e il bianco con il carbone di legna e l’argilla essiccata; e gli aveva preparato anche un bel verde cupo con della malachite tritata, e un giallo brillante con la bile del bisonte che aveva ucciso con sua madre; nessun altro aveva dei colori così intensi, e per un attimo desiderò che Mangia Tartarughe e qualcun altro della sua tribù Mohawk fossero lì con lui per ammirarli. Il rumore dell’accampamento in lontananza gli ricordò il canto delle cicale tra gli alberi vicino a un fiume; un brusio troppo alto, che non ti lasciava pensare, che però svaniva non appena ti ci abituavi. Nessun dorma... Donne e bambini potevano dormire... ma di sicuro le sgualdrine no. Non quella notte. A quel pensiero avvertì uno spasmo, che però liquidò subito. Pensò a Rachel, e liquidò anche lei, anche se controvoglia. Aprì la cassetta di corteccia di salice, in cui teneva il grasso di daino, e si unse faccia, torace e spalle, lentamente, concentrandosi. Normalmente si sarebbe rivolto agli spiriti della terra, durante quell’operazione, e poi ai suoi santi, Michele e Brigida. Ma non stava vedendo né l’uno né l’altra; Brianna era ancora con lui, anche se la sua immagine cominciava a sbiadire, ma stava avvertendo soprattutto la presenza di suo padre, e questo fatto lo sconcertò. Non gli parve rispettoso liquidare il genitore. Smise di fare quello che stava facendo e chiuse gli occhi, invece: voleva capire se Papà avesse qualcosa da dirgli. «Spero tu non sia venuto per parlarmi della mia morte, aye?» disse ad alta voce. «Perché non intendo farlo, non prima di aver giaciuto con Rachel, almeno.» «Be’, un obiettivo nobile, non c’è che dire.» La voce asciutta apparteneva a Zio Jamie; Ian aprì gli occhi di scatto. Suo zio era in mezzo alle fronde di un salice lungo la riva, che scendevano in acqua, con indosso soltanto la camicia. «Senza uniforme, eh, Zio?» disse il giovane, anche se il cuore gli era balzato nel petto come un topo cervo. «Il Generale Washington non ne sarà felice.» Washington era molto pignolo riguardo al fatto che i suoi uomini avessero sempre l’uniforme in ordine. Gli ufficiali dovevano essere vestiti a dovere in ogni situazione; diceva che i Continentali non sarebbero mai stati considerati un vero esercito, se si fossero presentati sul campo di battaglia come una folla disordinata che aveva imbracciato le armi. «Mi dispiace interromperti, Ian», disse Zio Jamie, uscendo dal salice. La luna era quasi tramontata; sembrava uno spettro, con le gambe nude e la camicia fluttuante. «Ma con chi stavi parlando?» «Oh. Con Papà. Lui era... qui, nella mia mente, aye? Voglio dire, penso spesso a lui, ma non mi capita spesso di sentirlo con me. Così mi sono chiesto se fosse venuto a dirmi che morirò oggi.» Jamie annu��, apparentemente quell’idea non sembrò turbarlo. «Ne dubito», disse. «Ti stai dipingendo il viso con i colori di guerra, aye? Ti stai preparando.» «Aye, stavo per farlo. Ne vuoi anche tu?» Lo disse a metà tra il serio e il faceto, ma Jamie lo prese come uno scherzo. «Li metterei, Ian. Ma credo che il Generale Washington mi farebbe appendere per i pollici e fustigare, se dovessi presentarmi con i miei uomini schierati e il viso dipinto come un Mohawk.» Ian emise un piccolo verso divertito, e intinse due dita nel piatto con l’ocra rossa, che poi si strofinò sul petto. «E tu che cosa ci fai qui in camicia?» «Mi stavo lavando», rispose Jamie, ma il suo tono lasciò intendere che non stava dicendo tutta la verità.

«E... stavo parlando con i miei morti.» «Con qualcuno in particolare?» «Mio zio Dougal, e Murtagh, il mio padrino. Sono le due persone che più di tutte vorrei accanto, in battaglia.» Fece un piccolo movimento, inquieto. «Se posso, cerco di ricavarmi un momento in cui rimanere solo, prima di una battaglia. Per lavarmi, sai... e per pregare. E... per chiedere loro di starmi accanto.» Ian lo trovò interessante; non aveva conosciuto nessuno dei due; erano morti entrambi a Culloden, ma aveva sentito tante storie su entrambi. «Due bravi combattenti», disse. «L’hai chiesto anche a mio padre? Di venire con te, intendo. Forse è per questo che è qui.» Jamie si voltò di scatto verso il nipote, sorpreso. Poi si rilassò, e scosse la testa. «Non ho mai dovuto chiederlo a Ian Mòr», disse, sommessamente. «Lui era... sempre con me.» Fece un breve gesto verso l’oscurità, alla sua destra. Ian sentì bruciare gli occhi, un nodo in gola. Ma era buio; non aveva importanza. Si schiarì la gola e gli porse uno dei suoi piattini. «Mi dai una mano, Zio Jamie?» «Oh? Aye, certo. Come li vuoi i segni?» «Rosso sulla fronte... ma posso pensarci io. Nero dai puntini fino al mento.» Si passò un dito sulla linea di puntini tatuati che descriveva una curva sotto gli zigomi. «Il nero sta per la forza, aye? Dice che sei un guerriero. E il giallo significa che non hai paura di morire.» «Oh, aye. Vuoi il giallo, oggi?» «No.» Lasciò trasparire un sorriso, dal suo tono, e Jamie rise. Jamie gli spalmò un po’ di colore con il pennello ricavato da una zampa di coniglio, e poi lo stese uniformemente con il pollice. Ian chiuse gli occhi, e sotto quel tocco si sentì invaso da una nuova forza. «Di solito lo fai da solo, Ian? Sembra difficile, senza uno specchio.» «Quasi sempre. Oppure lo facciamo in gruppo, ed è un fratello della tribù a dipingerti. Se si tratta di una cosa importante – di una scorreria in massa, ad esempio, o di una guerra contro qualcuno – allora è l’uomo di medicina a dipingerci, mentre canta.» «Dimmi che non vuoi che mi metta a cantare, Ian», mormorò Zio Jamie. «Voglio dire, potrei provarci ma...» «Farò senza, grazie.» Nero per la parte inferiore del viso, rosso sulla fronte, e una striscia di verde malachite lungo la linea dei tatuaggi, da un orecchio all’altro, attraverso il naso. Ian guardò i piattini con i pigmenti; non ebbe problemi a individuare il bianco, che indicò. «Magari potresti disegnarmi una piccola freccia, Zio? Sulla fronte.» Si passò un dito da sinistra a destra, per mostrargli dove farla. «Aye.» La testa di Jamie era china sopra i piattini, la mano sospesa. «Ma una volta non mi hai detto che il bianco è per la pace?» «Aye; se devi andare a conferire o a trattare, usi bianco in abbondanza. Ma serve anche per i lutti: quindi, probabilmente lo useresti anche per vendicare qualcuno.» A quelle parole, Jamie alzò la testa e lo guardò fisso. «La freccia non è per vendetta», spiegò Ian. «È per Freccia Volante. L’uomo morto di cui presi il posto, quando fui adottato.» Si sforzò di usare un tono disinvolto, ma sentì lo zio farsi teso e abbassare lo sguardo. Nessuno dei due avrebbe mai dimenticato il giorno della separazione, quando lui era andato dai Kahnyen’kehaka, e avevano creduto che sarebbe stato per sempre. Adesso si chinò e gli mise una mano sul braccio. «Quel giorno, Zio Jamie, tu mi dicesti: ‘Cuimhnich’. E io l’ho fatto. Ricorda.» «L’ho fatto anch’io, Ian», disse Jamie, piano, disegnandogli la freccia sulla fronte, come un sacerdote che, il Mercoledì delle Ceneri, gli faceva il segno della croce. «L’abbiamo fatto tutti. Va bene così?» Ian toccò con cautela la striscia verde, per essere sicuro che fosse abbastanza asciutta. «Aye, penso di sì. Sai che è stata Brianna a prepararmi i colori? Stavo pensando a lei, ma poi ho pensato che forse non dovrei portarla con me, in questa situazione.» Sentì il respiro dello zio sulla sua pelle, quando questi sbuffò e si appoggiò al salice con la schiena. «Un uomo porta sempre le sue donne in battaglia, Ian Òg. Sono la radice della tua forza.» «Oh, aye?»

Era una cosa sensata, e per lui fu un sollievo. Eppure... «Stavo pensando che forse non sarebbe giusto pensare a Rachel in un posto del genere. Considerato che è quacchera.» Jamie intinse il dito medio nel grasso di cervo, e poi lo immerse delicatamente nella polvere d’argilla bianca, con cui disegnò una grossa e profonda «V» vicino alla cresta della spalla destra di Ian. Anche al buio appariva vivida. «Una colomba bianca», disse, annuendo. Sembrava compiaciuto. «Questa sarà Rachel, per te.» Si pulì le dita su una roccia, poi si alzò e allungò i muscoli. Ian lo vide voltarsi e guardare verso est. Era ancora notte, ma l’aria era cambiata nei pochi minuti in cui erano rimasti seduti. La sagoma alta di Zio Jamie si stagliava netta sullo sfondo del cielo, mentre poco prima era sembrata parte della notte. «Un’ora, non di più», disse Jamie. «Prima mangia qualcosa, aye?» Con ciò, si voltò e tornò al torrente, e alle sue preghiere interrotte.

#sam heughan #outlander #jamie fraser #outlanderedit #diana gabaldon #official #ian murray #john bell #outlander season 7b #outlander series #outlander books #Spotify #sassenach #samheughanupdates

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nashusglasses · 1 year ago

Text

1. sweet, sticky, thick and pretty

(note: I can't stop listening to Bruno Mars!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! technically the title is from silk sonic but anywho :3) note 2: Not to be too anecdotal, but I was a loser all my 4 years of university. Don't know why I always have the urge to write about messy college experiences when all I did was make one singular friend. I also only ever went to *one* official frat party! Absolute Loser behaviour!! What I'm saying is I'm projecting hard and LOVE writing about hot asshole men!!!!!!!!! Oh boy!!

PAIRING. gojo/reader SETTING. college au WARNINGS. alcohol and drug consumption, player!satoru but in the sexiest way possible. suggestive content SUMMARY. It's too late for this.

Satoru’s got his white shirt dirty with grass stains. You don’t know what kind of roughhousing Suguru put him through before you got here, but all you know is there’s a keg outside in the backyard and Satoru’s hair is mysteriously wet. You get your answer when he tries to stick his tongue down your throat and he smells too much like beer.

“Absolutely not.” You block his mouth with a hard hand. “Can you please move? I just saw Natsume here.”

“I don’t fucking care. Kiss me.”

“Or what?”

Something coy flashes in Satoru’s face. He probably thinks he’s got you trapped. Hopeless in the dark corner of this hallway, and if you strain your ears hard enough you think you hear weird squelching noises from the room behind you. But all you feel is the annoyed urge to push him back till he stumbles off, embarrassed. There’s nothing more insistent than a drunk Satoru. There’s also nothing you want to punch more than a drunk Satoru.

“I called you. Thirty six times.”

“It was twice, and I was napping after my exam.”

He rolls his eyes. “Pish posh. Listen. Come over tonight.”

“No.” You shove at his shoulder. Except it’s a little rougher than you anticipated, but it’s still nice to see him lose balance. He won’t get angry. Not when he’s horny out of his mind. “I’m finding Natsume now.”

“What if I said pretty please?”

“Then I’ll shove you harder till you eat shit,” you snort. But you don’t get very far when you try to walk on ahead. Satoru’s strong when he wants to be. He’s got a hot hand wrapped around your wrist, a cement block for weight when you try to pull back.

“Stop ignoring me,” he says. “I told you I wanted you.”

“And then I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“Sometimes I hear things and then I choose not to understand them,” he explains. He closes the distance again. You wonder how many girls have fallen prey to this tactic. Using his height for advantage, the way the corner of his mouth lifts when he wants to look needy. You know he’s grasping at straws, though. His contact list is heavy with the chance to get his lap wet whenever he wants, and even though you’re not sorry for being the additional number, you’re angry that he ever thought you’d be the easier lay.

“Okay. I’ll say it one more time. Just for you.” You tiptoe up to his ear, make sure your every breath lands hot where it’ll make him shiver. “I don’t want you to call me. I don’t want you to look at me. And I want you to leave me alone.”

Satoru’s placid. No expression to dissect when you stand back down, and his grip is lax now. Natsume’s probably halfway done with that first pre-roll she told you she had. You’re almost greedy for the heat in your chest that blunt promises. Sitting on that scratchy couch while your head gets light enough to reconsider Satoru’s proposition.

You won’t. Even if you do miss the way he feels under you. A part of you wants to say that it’s only out of self-respect, but it’s funny seeing him so desperate. You’ll gloat about it later when Natsume asks you where you’ve been.

Something in Satoru clicks, and he’s grabbing your wrist again. “There’s just–something about you.”

“Satoru, you’re drunk. We’ve been over this. I know I’ve got godly legs and a tight pussy but you’re just–”

“A man whore,” he finishes for you.

You nod sympathetically. “I’m glad you get it. Do you want me to find Suguru for you?”

“I want you to kiss me,” he complains. “Holy fuck. I’m–I’m fucking drunk. And I told you I wanted you, and I told Akane that she has great tits but not as great as yours, and she slapped the shit out of me, and I told you I wanted you but you don’t want me back.”

“Why the hell would you say that?” You’ve seen her before. Linguistics 202. She’s smart, has killer fashion sense, and Natsume hates her because her eyelashes are long and curled and not fake at all. “You’re so goddamned stupid. I’m going now.”

“I know. I know I’m stupid. Just–before you go.” You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t block my number. Please. That’s all I’m asking.”

You’ll give him points for begging. The door to the room with mysterious noises opens, and two girls with messy hair filter out noiselessly. No witness to Satoru’s groveling. But you’re kind, so you leave him with a wet kiss to his cheek just to see his eyes go wide.

“Tell Akane you’re sorry. Then come find me when you’re sober,” you say.

When you turn around, you text Natsume to find where she is.

You don’t notice Satoru squeezing his eyes shut, cheeks burning hot, half-hard from the feeling of your mouth on his skin.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo scenario #gojo scenarios #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk scenarios

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myobsessionsspace · 1 year ago

Text

Who is Kim Young Jin?

The man behind the looks, bringing BTS' vision to life, from photo-folios, to music videos to high fashion magazine photoshoots.

Kim YoungJin and his team have worked with the members as a group and as individuals on their concerts and everything in between.

“Seoul-based stylist Youngjin Kim has been obsessed with fashion since he was a child, saving up his pocket money to buy magazines. “It was so special to me,” he remembers. After majoring in photography at college but leaning into the looks just as heavily, somebody suggested he give styling a go and well, the rest is history. These days, he’s working with BTS, but can also be found dressing the likes of NCT 127, Super M and Daniel Kang for cover features, campaigns and album artwork.”

ID Magazine - VICE Interview (March 2022)

👤What was your entry point to styling?

“I worked as an assistant to [Korean actor] Jin Oh Jeon’s stylist for about five years and came to understand the overall system of the Korean fashion scene. Looking back, that time was so precious; time that brought me to this moment, I guess.”

The man himself, Stylist @kimvinchey on IG

Kim YoungJin styled BTS and Bang SiHyuk for their TIME Magazine 2022 photos.

Kim YoungJin has been head stylist for MVs such as 'My Universe', styling Jimin for 'Vibe', j-hope for 'On The Street' to name but a few MVs

👤Tell us about the type of work you do.

“Styling for albums and projects such as “My Universe” by BTS and Coldplay is receiving tremendous attention on a global scale. Whenever I style an idol group, I think of a designer creating a collection. I mix and match clothes from different Japanese brands such as Comme des Garçons and Yohji Yamamoto, and I express my own aesthetic with styling to fit each concept. I also style various editorials for fashion magazines. I consider myself a fashion stylist, and when I first took on the role of an idol stylist, I was proud of demonstrating what kind of visuals could be created if a fashion stylist takes on an idol.”

Kim Youngjin has worked with the members on the brand ambassadorship endeavours, such as styling for mag shoots like the Valentino photoshoot with SUGA

👤Of course, a stylist doesn’t just ‘style’. You’re often a bridge between celebrities and brands — a look you introduce to an idol could quickly become a trend.

“Exactly. In many cases, celebrities or models with good momentum are recommended to brands or magazines, and if the celebrity is an ambassador of a fashion house, they communicate more closely with the fashion brand.”

👤What do you think is the most important thing in styling?

“I try to combine the latest fashion trends with classic items. For instance, I like pairing Levi's denim and casual sneakers with a Saint Laurent blazer. As details are crucial for men's clothes, the overall outfit is often impacted by details such as perfect length and sleeves.”

In Chapter 2 of BTS' journey, Kim YounJin has been part of many of the members solo projects that were even released post enlistment for some, such as j-hope LV campaign and styling for Esquire Magazine

👤Do you have a favourite brand or designer?

“I’ve always loved Givenchy by Riccardo Tisci, which has had a huge impact on me as a stylist. I have such respect for a person who has accomplished what they’ve wanted to do for a long time — I think Miuccia Prada and Raf Simons are both great in that regard too.”

“I’m 32, so I was in elementary and middle school in the 1990s, which was when I started getting into fashion. Since I was really young, like 10 years old, I used to go downtown to buy clothes by myself. In elementary school, I wore baggy sweatshirts and jeans like this Balenciaga ensemble. I liked hip-hop and K-pop even back then and would dress up like this and dance at school festivals. Retro fashion is back in style, so it doesn’t at all look out of place or time to dress like this again.”

Mr Porter - The Journal Interview (Oct 2020)

💜

Special Mention:

**Though Taehyung has worked with Kim YoungJin with group projects the Head Stylist for Taehyung (V) during Chapter 2, in particular his Layover Era has been @HIJIBIN, Taehyung's personal stylist.

Info on Kim YoungJin:

https://www.mrporter.com/en-sg/journal/fashion/youngjin-kim-contemporary-fashion-classic-style-k-pop-1445414

#Jimin #Jungkook #BTS #RM #Namjoon #Jin #SUGA #Yoongi #Hoseok #j-hope #Taehyung #V #Kim YoungJin #Fashion #Stylist

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nickeverdeen · 5 months ago

Note

Hehehe could I get an Arcane and/or Nimona matchup😋 I’mma yap a lot so prepare LMAOO

My name is Kathryn (or Kat for short) and I'm in school for graphic design and communications - I originally wanted to go into cosmetology to become a desairologist, but I didn't get in. I play piano, dance (hip hop, ballet, tap, and jazz), and sing. I also produce my own music.

Idk how to classify my style so I'lI say it alternates between morute, gloomy coquette, dollette, gothic, and alternative. I also lean heavily towards the feminine side of the spectrum.

I practice witchcraft and l'm also a Christian. I have a weird fascination with dolls and I collect them, specifically porcelain dolls. Like, it's so bad LMAO my friends are scared to come into my room atp!!! Literally I'm probs on someone's rob list I have one worth $400😭🙏

I also collect vinyls. I have over $600 worth of them save me…

Some of my favorite music artists are Bambi Baker, Melanie Martinez, Solya, Elita, Ha Vay, Baby Bugs, and Mercy Necromancy. I also like a lot of rock; AC/DC, Scene Queen, Delilah Bon, BANSHEE, Gurldoll, Ashnikko (she's sometimes rock), and Ennaria

I suppress literally everything until I just burst and it’s been building for two years now so uh yay😍

My humor’s honestly really weird. I can laugh at bread falling but find a really good dad joke stupid and unfunny. I also tend to match the personality of the person I'm speaking to. I’ve also been told I’m really great at comfort but I don’t know about that. A lot of people confide in me with their problems. Like a lot..🥲 not that I mind, it just gets a bit tiring

I’m more attracted to masc leaning people but I’ve also dated fems before. It doesn’t really matter to me as long as we have chemistry, but I do find myself eyeing a lot more masculine girls.. I’m kind of attracted to men, but not a whole lot.

I also don’t like touch unless I’ve known the person for at least 6 months or I initiate it. I’ve had multiple breakdowns because someone who wasn’t a “safe person” touched me without giving any warning…… I tense up MASSIVELY when someone hugs me even if I know they’re going to. The only people that don’t have that effect on me are my best friend (who I’ve known for 4 years) and my dad.

I took a state personality test and I’m exactly 50% INFP and 50% INFJ. Legit confused the test and it gave me both💀

Im diagnosed with anxiety & depression. I've been told I might have OCD, BPD and some sort of depersonalization/derealization disorder.

I believe I could have autism or ADHD. I also have heavy hallucinations that can last either 30 minutes or 2 weeks. I have major mood swings too. One minute I can literally be bouncing up and down while wanting to blow something up and then the next I’ll be crying on the floor😭

Aaanyway I think that’s enough of me yapping have a great day babes<3

Your Arcane match is…

Caitlyn Kiramman

Caitlyn would love discussing your music collection, especially rock and alternative genres

It may not seem like it, but she has a soft spot for underground bands and loves discovering new music

Caitlyn’s patient and empathetic nature makes her a great listener, offering comfort and understanding when you’re feeling overwhelmed or anxious

She’d be your rock during your mood swings

Provides a calming presence and helpes you through tough moments with patience and care

Caitlyn respects your need for personal space and takes care not to touch you without permission, understanding the importance of consent and comfort

Caitlyn would plan unique and adventurous dates, like exploring hidden spots in Piltover or attending underground music gigs

She herself would maybe prefer a classic restaurant one, but when she tried this she prefered this

Caitlyn would like your unique style and often compliment your outfits, even suggesting accessories or outfits that might suit your aesthetic

She’d be a bit unsure and creeped out by the doll thing, though

Caitlyn would silently encourage you to express your emotions and not suppress them

Caitlyn’s love for photography would complement your graphic design skills, and you’d often collaborate on creative projects

She would cherish quiet, quality time with you

Whether it’s listening to music together, having deep conversations, or simply enjoying each other’s company

Your Nimona match is…

Nimona

Nimona’s playful nature would match your quirky humor

She’d often make you laugh with her antics and shapeshifting abilities

Nimona would love going on spontaneous adventures with you, whether it’s exploring new places or trying out new activities

Nimona’s fierce loyalty means she’d be incredibly protective of you, always ready to stand up for you if anyone tried to harm or disrespect you

Nimona would appreciate your artistic talents and often encourage you to express yourself through your art and music

Her unconventional ways of comforting might seem odd, but they’d always make you feel better, like turning into a cute animal to cheer you up

Slowly she would learn to respect your boundaries over time, ensuring she doesn’t touch you without your consent

Nimona would love discovering new music with you and often play your favorite songs during your adventures together

Despite her tough exterior, Nimona has a deep understanding of emotions and would be there for you during your highs and lows

Nimona’s idea of a date would be anything but ordinary – from sneaking into restricted areas to watching thunderstorms from a safe spot

She’d like your unique style and individuality, often praising your confidence

#request #headcanons #matchups #caitlyn arcane #arcane caitlyn #arcane x reader #arcane #nimona x reader #nimona movie #nimona

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lucreziasredwyne · 2 months ago

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who: @seffora-merryweather when and where: the ladies meet in the redwyne apartments within highgarden for mint tea context: lulu is cookin (set following lucrezia's tense conversation with the hand of the king tirius rowan, she begins to wonder if there is something else at play amongst the councilmen - a dismissal of her for her sex)

"seffora," lucrezia began, her voice calm but firm, the events of the council still fresh in her mind. the conversation with tirius rowan had been tense, his dismissive attitude—whether intentional or not—lingering in her thoughts. many would claim she should not think in such a way, but truly, she did; the way in which the men believed they could speak as they wanted caused her mood to sour. she felt something shifting within the council, an undercurrent that she couldn't quite name, but which gnawed at her.

"i’ve been thinking a lot about the council lately, the dynamics of it all, especially in our times of peace."there was steam coming from her cup of mint tea; she drank it piping hot, as though ti had no impact upon her tongue. there was little honey in it, just as she had always enjoyed it; sharp. how she wished to speak on how she felt as though something was amiss, as though her thoughts and opinions were often overlooked or seen as jumping to too far a conclusion.

being decisive as a ruler was a characteristic she had been told to strive toward once upon a time, and yet now; it seemed as though being decisive was deemed being hysterical.

lucrezia exhaled slowly, the weight of her thoughts pushing her to speak with greater purpose. "i’ve carried the mantle as the only woman on that council for so long, but i’ve come to realise it’s not enough anymore. whether something has changed in times of peace, i am unsure..." there was a slight tut as she blew on the smoke of her mint tea, taking another sip. "have you ever considered stepping up, taking on more, perhaps even joining the council yourself should the opportunity, or your name, arise?"

her voice softened just slightly, though her words remained steady - if she were to speak of personal loss seffora faced in a conversation about politics, she would do so with regret and respect. "your father was the master of laws, and many spoke of the justice of lord serwyn, may the gods keep him. such news even reached me upon the arbor. i imagine you’ve learned much in his company, or at least provided with a good enough foundation to learn the ancient laws of the realm." seffora merryweather had the name, had the respect of the people for not siding with her sister during the war - she had lost it all, and that felt too similar. tragically similar.

lucrezia paused for a moment, giving seffora space to respond, but her eyes never wavered. "i’m not suggesting this lightly, seffora. but if you’ve considered more study, more experience, then perhaps, one day, you might take the position of mistress of laws. you’re more than capable, far more than i was when i first took the role of ruling lady. and truthfully, i think the council would benefit from a woman who understands the weight of our role, someone who isn’t afraid to speak up, to quite frankly...challenge the men when necessary."

her gaze softened for a moment, but the edge of determination remained. "i want you to think about it. not because i need someone to back me up, but because you deserve to have a place in that room. you deserve to be heard. why speak on the days of merryweather justice, when a merryweather remains with us?" she asked, a warm smile crossing her features as she reached forward to the tea pot.

#c: seffora #seffora 003 #lu: im done with you sons of bitches

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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year ago

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danbi dog walking w/ tae sort of meet cute-type date vibes

🪩 WORDCOUNT | 700 (exactly!) 🪩 NOTE FROM HOLLY | so i kinda think they're impossible to have a meet-cute, just because danbi was sooooo anti-tae at the start. like she always knew he was interested and used to try soooo hard to pretend that she wasnt!!! plus if anyone is a man hater (complimentary <3) it's danbi!! I can't remember when, but i know it's mentioned earlier on in the story that tae had been at memorial park with dan so.... here u go!

🪩 BD DRABBLES MASTERPOST 🪩

“Again?” Danbi sighs as she notices the man walking towards her up through the path of the Memorial Park.

She’d put her hands on her hips if either of them were free - but she’s currently got three dogs to each hand. The leads wrap around so tightly it’s a miracle her fingers haven’t fallen off yet.

Still, her facial expression conveys everything her body can’t - and yet Kim Taehyung has the audacity to stand there fucking smiling.

“Fancy seeing you here!” He beams, turning on his heel to stop himself from walking on by. Doesn't miss a beat. Heads in the same direction as Danbi, now.

“Y’know, some people would consider this stalking,” she tells him with nothing but disdain.

“See, I would agree,” Taehyung answers with contemplative arrogance. “But it’s funny - DB seems to reckon you’ve changed your route, recently?”

“Oh has she, now?” Danbi says, resisting the urge to curse you out. Loves you to death, but knows exactly what you’re doing. Begins to think that your joke about dressing up as cupid for Halloween isn’t really a joke.

“Mhmm,” Taehyung nods, hands in pockets. A little shy, but trying desperately hard not to be. “You used to do your walks down by the river, apparently.”

Danbi’s jaw is tense. Unwavering. “Sometimes a change of scenery is good. Gives the pups more mental stimulation. Different smells.”

“There are so many parks in the city,” he muses.

“Well I’ll pick a different one, once I’ve decided they’ve had enough of this one.”

“Maybe you should try the city forest,” Taehyung suggests. “The one by the last stop on line two. I go there pretty often, too.”

The narrowing of Danbi’s eyes only serves to make Taehyung smile. He’s learning pretty quickly which buttons of Danbi’s to press - and given how easy it is to wind her up, he doesn’t have to try particularly hard.

It’s what he likes about her, though. She’s fiery. Ignites a little something inside him.

“My route choices have nothing to do with you.”

“No?” He challenges. “So why’d it change after you found out my studio overlooks Memorial Park?”

“Coincidence.”

“Y’know,” Taehyung smirks. “Some people would consider it stalking.”

If there’s one thing Danbi hates, it’s when men make her smile - and Taehyung is getting dangerously close to that. She has to nip this in the bud, or otherwise her mild-infatuation with him will inevitably grow, and she cannot let that happen.

She’s dated musicians. Dated pretty boys. Ones with egos. Knows that artists are even worse.

And the ones who look like Kim Taehyung? Nothing but trouble. She knows that as soon as her guard is down, some girl from his art school will end up back in his DM’s and then she’ll have to fight for his attention, which she refuses to do. Dreads to think of the notches in his bedpost. Doesn’t wanna have to look at the art he’s made from other muses.

Again, she’s dated men who are menaces before. Had songs written for other girls cosplayed as serenades for her (fuck you, Sanghyuk). Refuses to let it happen again.

Better to just fight with him. Easier that way.

She’s incapable of doing anything by half measures though, so hatred seems like the best course of action.

“With all due respect, Taehyung, I’m working,” she shrugs, picking up her pace.

“Let me help.”

“No.”

“I'm good with animals.”

“You’re not insured.”

“I know how to walk a dog”

“No.”

“Let me-”

“Fine! Take Mabel,” Danbi finally relents, adjusting the leashes to hold one out from him. On the end is a Pomeranian, not too dissimilar from Taehyung’s own dog - the same dog Taehyung keeps trying to convince Danbi to walk, just so he has an excuse to see her. “She bites.”

“It’s fine,” Taehyung says, taking the leash in his palm and wrapping it over slightly for a little extra security. Starts walking. Is cheeky, as he says, “I’m used to bitches who bite.”

“You did not just call me a bitch,” Danbi gasps, genuinely affronted. It’s the first time throughout this entire interaction that Taehyung thinks he’s getting genuine emotion from her. Knows the rest of it is bull.

“Well, are you planning on biting me?” He flirts. Wouldn’t be opposed. In fact, he’d quite like it.

“Shut up,” she whines with a deadly roll of her eyes. “Just walk the damn dog."

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soursturniolo · 1 year ago

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I’m confused. You’re against smut but you defend the writers? What side are you on bro

I’d say at this point I’m more indifferent. At first I had a pretty strong stance, but hearing from others and thinking more about it has changed my opinion a bit.

Let’s stop with pretending these 20 year old MEN need babied. It’s embarrassing. They got a mom, they don’t need you mothering them like they’re prepubescent. They’re 20, babes. Probably have had sex. Probably are very aware of the amount of people who find them sexually attractive. Think back to how y’all lose your shit over some veins or when Matt fucking sneezed and his bicep showed a little. They are well aware.

If they were minors, I’d feel much more strongly about not writing sexual content about them. But they’re 20 year old, grown ass men. I’m begging some of y’all to take a breather and get a grip.

They literally watch suggestive/sexualizing edits of themselves. They’ve even laughed and said to make them weirder. So I kinda doubt they give a fuck about some silly little unrealistic fics written about them. Now of course, if they came out with a vid tomorrow addressing it and saying they’re uncomfortable with smut being written about them and asking people to stop, then I’d of course respect that and would hope others would too.

And, obviously they were weirded out by reading fics about their own brothers. If you wrote a fic about my sister and had me read it I’d be grossed out too.

Some of y’all who are doxxing and threatening people writing smut are secretly liking the shit. No hate, it’s just the literal truth. So respectfully, be so fr rn. I don’t like ANYTHING without reading it, and I think that’s how most people are too. Just be honest friends.

If you don’t like smut or are uncomfortable with it, don’t read it. Block the creator to avoid seeing it and keep it moving. As other people have pointed out though, thinking logically idk how y’all are finding it without actively looking for it. I’ve never seen it without searching it out, so…

Also, don’t fucking dox or threaten others?? You really think the triplets would be okay with you doing that??

Now of course, when it comes to incest or writing Nick with a fem reader, that’s where I draw the line. Don’t do that shit. It’s disrespectful. And in the case of Nick, disregarding and invalidating his sexuality, which isn’t okay.

That’s the last I’m going to say about the matter.

#sturniolo triplets #opinion

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canyouhearthelight · 1 year ago

Text

Nihilus Rex, Ch. 12: Aftermath

Here we have what should be the last really technical chapter for...hopefully the rest of the book. Fingers crossed. Although I am sure we can sneak some more stuff here and there if someone asks for more technical stuff, just not so many unending chapters of it.

As always, on the even-numbered chapters, I wrote while @baelpenrose co-wrote and beta'd.

Some legends are told

Some turn to dust or to gold

But you will remember me

Remember me for centuries

And just one mistake

Is all it will take

We'll go down in history

Remember me for centuries

Fall Out Boy, “Centuries”

Lash

“I heard it was part of a bigger hack.”

“Everything I’ve seen about that goes back to some QAnon boards. They think everything is a conspiracy.”

My heart rate picked up just a bit as I looked over dozens of similar conversations across several message boards. It was entirely too close to home, but felt completely surreal at the same time - I had been part of a coordinated attack against major financial institutions, and no one even believed the scale of what had actually happened. Not even the people directly impacted, if everything from our botnets was accurate.

In the immediate aftermath, over truly horrendous spinach pie and far too many dolmades, Nils and I had kicked around what-ifs and half-assed contingencies. It had all boiled down to keeping an eye on our feeds, waiting for updates from Bishop if he caught anything, and laying low until the attack had aged out of the news cycle. If online communities started piecing anything together, the plan was to sow misinformation and redirect.

We had definitely called it on the news portion - pundits were still arguing over whether the slain men were heroes of the middle class out to free people from the bonds of financial indenture, or anti-capitalist villains trying to destabilize the global economy. Every late night show had a self-referential monologue about the deceased, followed by a person-on-the-street segment with split opinions like some ghoulish, real world version of the Boondock Saints. No one could agree if their goal had been just the one attack, or if there was a secret manifesto somewhere with their ultimate strategy. What everyone did agree on, however, from the Department of the Treasury, to the OCC, to all major news networks, was that the people responsible had been gunned down by police. Body camera footage had been released, sometimes uncensored, with all six men declaring loudly that no one else was involved, nobody had put them up to this, nothing had inspired them.

No One. Nobody. Nothing. Anyone who had interacted with Nils online and had two brain cells left to rub together would have known immediately.

Except… Our damage control had done its work for us. Every single time I had been alerted that someone was suggesting a larger plan, the same response had come: That’s QAnon nonsense. A conspiracy. I bet you think the moon landing was fake, too.

Nils had joked about his handle then. “Would you buy that my handle is also an Odyssey reference to be a contingency for exactly this?” He’d said, half joking.

I squinted, half smiling at the memory. “I bet your minion morons believe that. I do not. Especially not having seen how far back your handle goes, in some form or another.” She waggled a bite of food at him. “Nice try, though. The bravado almost sold it.”

“Fair enough. Speaking of handles, Lash. Can I get your real name?” He’d said, as they’d shared dinner after the fact. “I haven’t tracked it down as a matter of respect, but we’ve been friends for a while and I would like to know. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“You aren’t allowed to use it,” I had made him promise. Something about sharing my first name had always felt too… exposed. “Not in person, not via text, not at all.”

He’d given that weird smile that seemed almost like his signature, the one that seemed like he was laughing at something somewhere else, and said, “I promise. I’ll only call you Lash.”

“Then I will tell you when all this dies down and you can’t rat me out to the authorities.” He hadn’t been expecting that, and I winked at his shock. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Not like you would rat me out anyway.” Truth be told, I liked having him at something of a disadvantage.

He inclined his head at a little bow, “As you wish, Lash.” He raised a glass. “This was really fun though. Good working with you.”

Now, I was staring feeds on three monitors, a week out, watching the entire financial sector and public refuse to believe anything more serious had happened than six armed men breaking into a major bank Guy Ritchie-style. All three of us had expected some form of damage control, but there was nothing to control.

Almost like I had cursed myself, my phone started buzzing violently across my desk, sending me to my feet hard enough to almost knock my chair over. “Spam Spam” showed up on my caller ID - Bishop.

“Please take me off whatever list this is,” I answered carefully. Bishop did not call me. He messaged me through about a million proxies, but calling was a no-no. Paranoid did not begin to describe the man’s communication habits.

“Just a moment of your time, Miss,” the voice came through. “I am calling on behalf of Bloomberg to offer you a one year subscription for only $1 per week. That’s all your basic financial and stock news, for $52 a year.”

“That’s nice, but I’m broke,” I sighed, taking note of the site before hanging up.

My stomach sank when the phone buzzed again, this time a message from Nils. “Uh. Quick meetup somewhere secure. We may have overshot slightly. In a good way.”

Definitely not good. “Let’s meet at the usual spot. We need to talk about the project for class, anyway.” I sent the message and didn’t even check for confirmation before gathering my stuff with one hand while I checked my news skimmer with the other.

Well, fuck.

Nils was waiting at the shitty hacker cafe, and he looked tense, eyes sharp. He barely waited for me to sit down. “So. There’s a thing. Remember when we were making the worm? And we had to shave some stuff off to make it small enough to still function? And we had to simplify some of its seeking parameters? Uh…it…I just realized that everything in Blackbox…”

“Shut the fuck up,” I hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention. “You and B reached out within about five minutes of each other, and he managed to tell me to check the news. I saw. We overshot by a couple orders of magnitude, yeah.”

“Yeah. Explains why no damage control. Until someone leaked it, I don’t know that they were legally allowed to admit it could be hacked.”

“We need coffee,” I stammered out, running a hand over my head. “And B. But coffee first.” Without waiting, I bounced up and ordered for us both. When I came back to the table, he was bouncing a knee - not out of place in a place that specialized in caffeine addiction for the ADHD set, thankfully. “I don’t suppose you carry a flask or something? Could only make it taste better.”

“My flask is for energy drinks when I need caffeine in emergencies because my head is starting to hurt from withdrawals, so, no. It absolutely would not. I appreciate the suggestion though.” Nils’ voice was flat. “I’ll reach out to B and tell him to get over here. We have a bit of a security concern to address. A slimy, perverted security concern to address.”

“He doesn’t know my actual name or my face,” I told him pointedly. “I’ll drive the bus if you’ll do the throwing, it comes to that.”

“He knows your handle, he’s better than we are at breaking encryptions and worse about boundaries, he absolutely knows your name.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to trust any records scavenged from a defunct elementary school or a birth certificate. Those are the only places my actual name is listed. I don’t even drive.” I thought about it for a minute. “But backing up his stuff remotely to make sure we have any sex trafficking or worse would be a good idea.”

“Honestly I was thinking simpler. We have a crime that he was accomplice to, he can’t blackmail us without incriminating himself without claiming he didn’t know what it would be used for. He might get immunity for the tip, but that takes time. He’s attempted to solicit you for indecent shit a lot, and attempted to get me to engineer…basically letting him do sex crimes, a few times. I kept the messages after turning him down, you? If nothing else it kills his credibility as a witness and ruins any ability he has to get us convicted of anything.”

I gave him a dirty look. “What kind of amateur do you think I am? I have all my dirt on everyone backed up where no one can find it except me or my parents. External drives, somewhere safer than that server we just fucked up.”

“Of course, my apologies.” He looked a little calmer with the idea that Weasel was handled. “They’ll try to trace us but our databombs will have made such a brutal hash of anything they could trace that they won’t know where to start looking. At a guess they’ll move to a different system against future hackers - and I don’t envy the next suckers to try this.”

I tapped my chin, trying to think what Bishop would point out. Something simple we would be missing. I wasn’t good a peopling, but Bishop was surprisingly adept - “They have six dead bodies, a drive designed to fuck shit up, and six cell phones that had been in contact with you. So, first link is you. Let’s start there.”

“Burn phone, pre-paid, cash, with an out of state number, picked up ages ago for something else entirely, under an alias I no longer use, again invented for something else entirely, and called through wifi service using a vpn. Said burn phone has now been utterly destroyed with its remains scrubbed of fingerprints and the remains tossed into a dumpster, whilst I was not carrying my normal phone, on the opposite side of town from where we normally spend any time. I think that about covers it.”

“I don’t ever want to hear anyone say women watch too much true crime,” I muttered. “You literally could have just taken it apart and used a belt sander on it, handed the pieces to a makerspace. Or donated it to a Goodwill bin.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

Bishop showed just after that, making a point to ignore us while getting his coffee and sitting at a table two over from us, facing away.

“I knew getting involved with both of you at once would get exciting. So. We want to talk about what you little maniacs have been discussing before I got here so I can go over what you missed?” B’s voice was vaguely amused, and a little tense. “I should mention, I’ve already gotten a message from Weasel. He put it together. Hopefully you two have a contingency for that.”

“Oh, the usual,” I answered airily, arching a brow at Nils. “Blackmail and making sure there aren’t any other tracks to cover. Nils overdid it with his phone, but it should work.”

Harvey’s voice took on an amused note. “Alright then. I’ll tell Weasel to pound sand. Am I to take it you kids had fun the night of the job?”

“Food was hit or miss, and there was some half-delirious contingency planning around damage control.” I rubbed my face. That felt like a decade ago.

Nils was looking embarrassed and Harvey looked amused as the older man continued. “Pity. You two were getting really wound up and I was hoping you’d be able to take a load off that night. From the looks of things, Nils’ usual bullshit and choice of pawns is working out on deflecting suspicion against a bigger conspiracy - I think the feds are reluctant to give conspiracy wingnuts credibility.”

Someone isn’t paying attention to politics, I mused internally. On the surface, I just smiled and took a sip of my coffee, suppressing a grimace at how bitter and nasty it was. Cold brew…. How hard did you have to try to fuck up cold brew, I swear. “Either way, the damage had controlled itself so far. Any updates since you called? I checked my skimmers right after, but the news was sparse.”

“So far an announcement that 4Chan white supremacist boards are going to be looked at more seriously as a breeding ground for stochastic terrorism coming from the FBI, unsurprisingly now that they’re affecting rich people.”

Nils gave an evil chuckle. “Oh good, that’s a pot I was stirring a bit ago. Unmanaged retaliation against cops in a predictable timeframe for whatever happens to them and we can let the system eat itself and look away from us, thank you very much…”

The only reason my head didn’t bounce off the table when I dropped it is because my arms cushioned the fall. “Don’t get me wrong!” I held a hand up blindly. “After the revenge porn thing, yes, scrutinize breeding grounds. And at least everyone knows the guys who are currently taking the fall are not - “ I pointed at myself emphatically. “But I am not a fan of ‘unmanaged’ retaliation against a group with airtight legal protections and a poor track record of reading perp stats correctly.” It was the most polite way I could say ‘racist assholes’ without everyone in the cafe looking at me.

“Options: I have to actively take command of the right wing gun nuts a la some shitty real life Code Geass-ripoff shenanigans to manage them, or I let their anti-government shit lead them to fight actual problems for a change, or I let them continue believing that the Jews were running the world and that everyone who couldn’t pass a paper bag test were their foot soldiers in need of shooting - right as the ax was about to fall on them. Guess which option I figured involved the least collateral damage? If you prefer I decide to go whole hog on the aesthetic and try ripping off Lelouch vi Britannia harder, which to me seemed worse than telling them they were going to have a cop problem rather than a Jews run the world problem…” Nils response was less annoyed than exhausted, and unlike our previous conversation where it was clear that he hadn’t thought it out and felt bad about it, his tone indicated that he’d thought this one through and had simply picked the least evil available option he saw.

Thankfully, Bishop’s unending focus on ‘simplest solution is best solution’ saved me palm abrasions and an assault charge from strangling the cute but dumb motherfucker on the spot. “Since the heat right now is on an actual breeding ground for incels, alt right, and revenge porn entrepreneurs, we could just let them chase their tails and keep laying low. White collar crime is historically white, et cetera, ipso facto Columbo Oreo.”

“I like that idea,” I agreed, putting as much reluctance as possible behind the sentiment. Realistically, Nils as Commander and Chief of the Fucknuckle Wingnut Army was not giving me the warm and fuzzies.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #nihilus rex #afterverse #science fiction #original science fiction #traumatized characters #modern dystopia #modern fiction #my writing #friend's writing

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