#it was all about lying to investors
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never-quite-buried ¡ 11 days ago
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Nope now it’s at the point that i’m shocked that people off tt don’t know what’s going down. I have no reach but i’ll sum it up anyway.
SCOTUS is hearing on the constitutionality of the ban as tiktok and creators are arguing that it is a violation of our first amendment rights to free speech, freedom of the press and freedom to assemble.
SCOTUS: tiktok bad, big security concern because china bad!
Tiktok lawyers: if china is such a concern why are you singling us out? Why not SHEIN or temu which collect far more information and are less transparent with their users?
SCOTUS (out loud): well you see we don’t like how users are communicating with each other, it’s making them more anti-american and china could disseminate pro china propaganda (get it? They literally said they do not like how we Speak or how we Assemble. Independent journalists reach their audience on tt meaning they have Press they want to suppress)
Tiktok users: this is fucking bullshit i don’t want to lose this community what should we do? We don’t want to go to meta or x because they both lobbied congress to ban tiktok (free market capitalism amirite? Paying off your local congressmen to suppress the competition is totally what the free market is about) but nothing else is like TikTok
A few users: what about xiaohongshu? It’s the Chinese version of tiktok (not quite, douyin is the chinese tiktok but it’s primarily for younger users so xiaohongshu was chosen)
16 hours later:
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Tiktok as a community has chosen to collectively migrate TO a chinese owned app that is purely in Chinese out of utter spite and contempt for meta/x and the gov that is backing them.
My fyp is a mix of “i would rather mail memes to my friends than ever return to instagram reels” and “i will xerox my data to xi jinping myself i do not care i share my ss# with 5 other people anyway” and “im just getting ready for my day with my chinese made coffee maker and my Chinese made blowdryer and my chinese made clothing and listening to a podcast on my chinese made phone and get in my car running on chinese manufactured microchips but logging into a chinese social media? Too much for our gov!” etc.
So the government was scared that tiktok was creating a sense of class consciousness and tried to kill it but by doing so they sent us all to xiaohongshu. And now? Oh it’s adorable seeing this gov-manufactured divide be crossed in such a way.
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This is adorable and so not what they were expecting. Im sure they were expecting a reluctant return to reels and shorts to fill the void but tiktokers said fuck that, we will forge connections across the world. Who you tell me is my enemy i will make my friend. That’s pretty damn cool.
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sealpup9 ¡ 2 years ago
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At what point will courts rule that false advertising can actually happen for digital products? If something like this happened for a physical product (*cough* Theranos *cough*) people would be held accountable for investor fraud and lying to their consumers.
This is like those fake mobile game ads but way worse. The point of Overwatch 2 (this was stated by Activision/Blizzard) was to focus on PvE campaigns and leveling of heroes along with some kind of talent point system.
They lied so they could sell another version of their own game (PvP game that is the same as Overwatch) specifically so they could get people into Overwatch 2.
Not to mention the dangerous mechanics that keep people coming back like time-limited-events and the addition of buying over-priced cosmetics from shops with no alternative to obtain them (from what I can tell from some research. I do not play games with predatory mechanics like Overwatch.)
So, let me see if I've got this straight.
When Overwatch 2 launched last October, it was framed by Blizzard as a PvP-only early access preview of a game which would eventually include a substantial PvE campaign, to be added in a later patch.
Today, Blizzard's representatives admitted not only that the PvE campaign mode has been scrapped, but that the internal decision to do so was made in late 2021 – meaning they'd been knowingly lying about the game's planned feature set for nearly a year at the time of the October 2022 early access launch.
Is that about the size of it?
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lacnunga ¡ 10 months ago
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If you've ever felt like you're not good enough to apply for a job, I would like you to read up on 'Sir' Gregor McGregor and you will be dsiabused of that notion Real Quick
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hms-no-fun ¡ 3 months ago
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Whats your stance on A.I.?
imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!
like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.
but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!
so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.
consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.
but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!
see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???
so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.
i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.
(read more "AI" opinions in this subsequent post)
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artfulstar ¡ 5 months ago
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Woah woah woah. Twitter is shutting down in Brasil? I'm thankful for your mental health but what?
Yep.
TLDR: Elon fired everyone in the Brazilian offices of twitter but legally Twitter can't continue existing in Brazil WITHOUT a legal representative. So now our Federal Supreme Court subpoened him to apoint a new representative or the website is getting shut down in the country
The long version with the context about the fight:
It all started when the supreme court started to shut down in the country profiles of brazilian people who had commited crimes using the website (an example is Monark, a dude who literally used his profile to say we should give n*zis and racists unlimited freedom of speech [he fled to the US to escape prison btw]).
Elon caught wind of this and decided to threaten our constitution and said that he would get the profiles back on because he wouldn't accept a government restricting "freedom of speech" on his platform. The supreme court issued a statement that if he did that, he would face a fee everyday for every account reactivated. It was money so he didn't do that (or maybe turns out he couldn't do it anyway and he was just lying for his lil fanboys).
This was all back at the start of the year but suddenly almost two weeks ago it was reported he fired every single employee in the offices of brazil, including the legal representative.
Then tonight, around two hours ago the official profile of STF replied and tagged elon with the doc of the subpoena because since they didn't have a legal representative, they couldn't do it in the proper way. The subpoena says that Elon has 24 hours to appoint a new guy for the job or the social is getting shut down in brazilian territory.
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So we have 3 options for whats gonna happen in the next 24 hours:
Alexandre de Moraes (The guy who Elon started a one-sided beef with) backs down and doesnt shut down the website (highly unlikely)
Elon backs down and appoints a new guy so he doesnt lose the 4th biggest public of his site
Twitter gets shut down until Elon's manchild's ego gives in
thats all <3
Edit:
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This was Elon's reply to the tweet. YES he is pathetic like that
Edit 2: it's currently 17:38 brasilia time of 30/08 and Twitter is bound to get disconnected soon, the order has been given by Moraes. People who use a VPN to access Twitter will get fined 50k reais (almost 9k dollars).
Yesterday a note was posted lying about Brazil being a dictatorship and saying that one of the people being censored is a 16yr old girl. The truth is that it's a grown ass man that use his daughters account to promote attacks on delegates, ministers, judges and other politicians. They also call orders to ban n*zi accounts "illegal orders" (WHICH ARE VERY LEGAL UNDER THE CONSTITUTION OF BRAZIL). They also say "we don't want every other country to have the freedom of speech laws the US has" meanwhile they've been trying to impose them in a sovereign state.
I would say what I want to say to Elon but unfortunately my mother taught me to keep those kinds of thoughts inside. Just know they're three letters <3
edit 3: twitter was officially unavailable on brazilian territory by the time it struck midnight of the 31st
Edit 4:
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Translation: 🚨 NOW: Elon Musk is looking for executives to represent Twitter/X in Brazil, to negotiate the platform's RETURN in the country, reports Correio Braziliense.
he's going to do what cellbit said kkkmk he purposely let them suspend it, then after a few days he'll come out and be the savior of the brazilian people and say he only did it for us
Don't let elon fool you. He doesn't care and is probably only doing it because his investors are threatening him with money
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osaemu ¡ 1 year ago
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GETO SUGURU: ❛❛ SNOWFLAKES IN MY STOMACH WHEN WE KISSIN' ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ your boyfriend can't be home for christmas? fine then, you'll just spend it with his best friend! but be prepared, 'cause your boyfriend's gonna be mad when he gets home. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. modern!au. best friend!gojo. degradation, spanking, p –> v, you guys are loud and you get walked in on! gojo gets slutshamed.. a lot. and he's very annoying!! also there's lots of borderline crack in this fic, have fun with that! 3.6k words, not proofread.
author's note: it's been a hottt minute since i've written for geto and i lowk forgot how to write him.. anyways.
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“what do you mean, you’re not coming home for christmas?” you huff, hopping on your bed and lying on your stomach. 
the man on the other end of the phone sighs exasperatedly, and you can almost see suguru massage his temples when he replies, “i have work, baby. i’m sorry, but i really can’t miss this chance to—”
it’s the night before christmas eve, and you just learned that suguru won’t be home in time to spend christmas with you—obviously, you were upset, because you’d been looking forward to spending the holidays with him. but to your dismay, holiday season’s always the busiest time of the year for businessmen like suguru.
“fine,” you groan, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you do so, and you mutter something about life not being fair as suguru lists all the reasons he can’t be home by christmas morning.
“i have a big meeting with some potential investors tomorrow, and there’s no way i’ll be back by the morning after,” suguru explains tiredly. you can hear the sleepiness in his voice, but the selfish part of you wants to keep him on the phone longer—it’s only seven, and you could easily spend the next couple hours convincing him to come home sooner.
“but suguru—” you try, even though you know nothing’ll convince him at this point. 
“i’m sorry, honey,” he interrupts. after a moment, suguru’s voice softens and he continues, “i just can’t make it home by christmas. we can spend the day after together, though—i think i’ll be free for the rest of the week.”
you roll off the bed, stuffing one hand in the pocket of your hoodie—suguru’s hoodie—as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a mug of hot chocolate. the other hand still holds your phone to your ear, and you swallow back the rest of the protests you have to suguru’s absence.
“anyways, i gotta go,” suguru murmurs, obviously suppressing a yawn. “love you, baby. n’ i’m sorry, but i really can’t do anything about it.” 
he hangs up before you can reply.
almost instantly, you dial satoru’s number—he’s probably the only other person you and suguru both trust enough to confide in about your problems, and like always, satoru picks up right away.
“hey, satoru?”
“heyyy, i already heard about it from suguru,” satoru replies, and there’s some suspicious squelching sounds in the background. are those grunts, too?
“uh, what are you doing?” you ask tentatively, hopping on the counter and sitting with your back pressed against the wall. the oddly wet sounds continue for a couple more seconds, and then they stop. “satoru?”
“shit, sorry, i was in the middle of something,” he replies with a breathless laugh. “yeah, i’m done now. wanna see?” your phone lights up with an invitation to facetime, and you hit the ‘x’ immediately.
“no, i don’t want to see whatever the fuck you’re doing,” you grumble, ignoring his laughter. “you’re disgusting, i’ll call you ba—”
“no, i’m free, i’m free!” satoru interrupts, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice as he continues, “suguru won’t be back for christmas, right?” 
you pause and sigh, closing your eyes for a second. “yeah, he won’t be.”
“and you want a way to get him to come back sooner, right?”
“yep. you have anything in mind?” you ask, half-hoping that satoru’ll be able to come up with some genius plan to get your boyfriend to fly back here to make it in time for christmas. but if you’re being honest, you know that there are very few things that could convince suguru to drop his supposedly important meeting and come straight home.
and somehow, satoru devises a plan that makes you certain he will.
————
the next morning, you receive a text from suguru asking you to facetime—under normal circumstances, you’d just ask him to call instead since you’re at a cafe, but not today. today, you want him to see you and your mischievous little plan, so you eagerly accept.
“hey, sweetheart,” suguru says the second the call connects. his dark hair is pulled back into its usual half-down half-up style, and he props up his phone on something to use his reflection to adjust his tie. “how are y— wait, is that satoru’s jacket?”
you smile innocently and turn the phone to show satoru, who’s sitting just across from you at the table by the window. after satoru’s taken his time to wave and blow a kiss to suguru (who rolls his eyes in response), you turn the phone back and say, “oh, i just got a little cold. it’s pretty chilly down here!”
suguru frowns, brown eyes narrowing at your cheeky expression. “very funny. why didn’t you just bring your own jacket? or one of mine?”
oh, this is the question you’ve been waiting for. you shrug off satoru’s rather comfortable jacket and show suguru the tight, long-sleeved shirt you’re wearing underneath it. the fabric hugs your skin in a way that shows off all your curves, and even better, it’s a light shade of blue that’s somewhere in between the color of satoru’s eyes and hair. 
“i did! but then it just got so cold and satoru was nice enough to offer me his jacket,” you say nonchalantly, pretending not to notice the way suguru’s jaw tightens. you flutter your eyelashes innocently and smile at suguru, thoroughly enjoying the way his eyes focus on your outfit.
“you jealous?” satoru chimes in, snatching the phone out of your hand and posing in front of it, admiring himself in the camera.
“no,” suguru mutters, but it wouldn’t take a genius to tell that he’s just lying through his teeth. satoru grins in response, making a peace sign with his hand and winking.
“good, ‘cause i’m gonna be hangin’ out with her all day long!” satoru cooes, blowing suguru another kiss before you swipe your phone back out of his hand.
“is he joking?” suguru grumbles, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. you shrug in response, not buying his cool and collected persona. you know suguru better than most, and the subtle way his shoulders tensed the second he saw you in satoru’s jacket gave it all away.
“nope,” you reply, soft lips tugging themselves into a little smile. “we might spend christmas together too, ‘cause you won’t be here. but i guess i don’t really mind anymore—satoru’s good company!”
satoru covers his mouth to hide his laughter at your comment, giving you a thumbs-up when suguru doesn’t reply. your boyfriend says something about already being late and having to go, and this time, you’re the one who hangs up.
“oh, we definitely got him,” you grin, smugly lifting your mug of hot cocoa and clinking it with satoru’s in a celebratory expression. satoru hums in agreement before he takes a sip of his cocoa, face growing pink at the sudden warmth.
“so, how long d’you think it’ll be until suguru texts you that he’s on his way?” satoru asks, leaning back in his chair and blowing on his cup to cool off the smoking-hot liquid.
“hopefully soon.”
“i’m betting on… three hours.”
three hours later, you don’t get a single text from suguru. four hours later, nothing. on the fifth hour, you finally receive a message from him, but it’s just a “how are you?”
“was that not enough?” you whine, half-looking at your phone as you walk through the mall with satoru. “how else can i convince sugu to come back by tomorrow?”
satoru shrugs, pulling the red lollipop he got from a toy shop’s cashier out of his mouth. “i mean, we tried jealousy, so how ‘bout we go the other route?”
you tilt your head curiously, waiting for satoru to elaborate. 
“y’know, why don’t ya tempt him in… other ways?” satoru wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and your face grows warm despite the chilly air around you.
“satoru…” you pause, face unreadable as you stop walking and turn to him. satoru holds his breath in anticipation, waiting for your verdict.
“that’s a really good idea.”
————
and that’s how you ended up in a clothing store, sifting through hundreds of dresses in search of one that’d be alluring enough to draw suguru back home.
“what color does he like on you?” satoru asks, seemingly oblivious to the strange looks he’s receiving from the other people in the store as he examines handfuls of dresses with interest. “red? black? white?”
you shrug, running your fingers over a form-fitting dress the color of suguru’s eyes. “i dunno, do you think he’d like this?”
satoru turns, takes one look at the dress, and instantly grabs it. “c’mon, let’s get you into a dressing room.”
the second you and satoru get there, the dressing room attendant gives you both a weird look. her eyes settle on satoru, and she asks, “weren’t you just here a week ago with another girl?”
satoru’s face goes redder than you’ve ever seen it. “uh, yeah, i was. oh, this one’s my best friend’s girlfriend, not mine—”
you shove him aside and hand the dress to the attendant, smiling bashfully. “just trying on this one, thanks.”
the attendant eyes satoru suspiciously and then nods. “okay, but he doesn’t get to go inside. last time, we got a noise complaint from the other customers.”
if you thought satoru’s face was red before, now it’s a shade redder than you knew was possible. in fact, you’re almost considering sending him to the hospital to get checked on as you close the dressing room door behind you and try the dress on.
it’s a little tight, but that’s expected given the skin-hugging fabric. after a couple minutes, you turn and admire yourself in the mirror—the dress, thankfully, fits perfectly. the fabric accentuates your features in the best way possible, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from staring in the mirror any longer.
“how do i look?” you ask, stepping out of the dressing room and doing a twirl for satoru. his jaw drops, and he nods instantly. 
“yeah, this is the one,” satoru affirms, taking out his phone. “want me to be the one to send the pics to suguru? that way we can still make him jealous!”
you give him a thumbs-up and blow a kiss at the camera, trusting satoru to take a flattering picture before you head back into the room to change out. on your way out of the store, you buy the dress at the counter—knowing suguru, he wouldn’t reply to satoru’s text, but you just knew he was dying to see you in that in person.
————
later that night, well after satoru’s gone back to his house and you’re relaxing in your own, suguru texts you again.
sugu: can we call?
you grin and roll over onto your back, nestling yourself deeper into your pillows before you dial his number. it only rings once before he picks up, and he instantly asks if satoru’s still with you.
“nah, he went home,” you say offhandedly, toying with the corner of your sheets. “did you like my dress?” you ask coyly, enjoying the way suguru pauses for a long second before replying.
“yeah, it looked good on you.”
“that’s it?”
“it really brought out your eyes.”
you bite your tongue to suppress a groan, instead opting to bury your face in a pillow instead. you had just spent the past twenty-four hours running around in circles, doing everything possible to get suguru to come back, and that’s all you get? really?
“anyways,” suguru continues, and you hear a soft rustling sound in the background—if you had to guess, he’s probably in bed right now. “how was your day, baby?”
“good,” you respond briskly, a soft scowl appearing on your face. suguru, being as observant as he is, picks up on the subtle change in your tone, but he doesn’t say anything. “satoru and i had a really good day. how was yours?”
suguru pauses before answering. “i missed you.”
“then come home, sugu,” you plead, even though you know that there’s no way he’ll be back in time. but it’s worth a try, right?
“you know i can’t,” suguru murmurs, exhaling softly. “no way can i get a flight back this late and make it back by tomorrow morning. i—”
“then get a sleigh!” you huff indignantly, unable to resist smiling when you hear suguru laugh. “please, sugu? christmas won’t be christmas without you.”
“just spend it with satoru,” suguru mutters under his breath, and that’s when you realize that your efforts haven’t entirely been in vain. he’s obviously sour that you spent the whole day with his best friend instead of him, and a small spark of hope starts to fester in your heart. 
“maybe i will,” you reply coyly, and you can hear your own smile in your voice—and you’re sure that suguru can hear it too. “anyways, i’m a little tired. good night, baby.”
“night.”
————
the next day, you host a party in your otherwise empty house—after all, it’s christmas, and it’d be rather depressing for you to spend it alone. so you invite satoru, satoru’s friends, and their friends, and so on. word gets around fast, and people show up in droves.
which is why you don’t notice when suguru himself slips in through the back door.
you’re giggling with satoru and his stoic friend kento when they both stop laughing, and you look up at them, confused. “what is it?” you ask, sipping the sweet liquid in your glass with a smile.
“suguru?” satoru asks, lips tugging themselves into a wide smile. “guess you didn’t wanna spend christmas alone, yeah?”
you turn around, half-expecting satoru to be joking. but to your surprise, your dark-haired boyfriend stands in front of you, smiling dryly. you stare at him for a solid two seconds, certain that you’re hallucinating. “sugu? but i thought—”
“thought you could mess around with my best friend?” suguru muses, arching one of his eyebrows. his suit’s a little wrinkled, and his hair’s more disheveled than normal, but somehow, he seems more alert than ever. suguru’s amber eyes go from yours to satoru’s wide blue ones, and satoru shrinks away from him with a nervous smile.
“i’m gonna go,” kento says offhandedly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving you, satoru, and suguru alone in the living room. 
“hey, bro, it was her idea!” satoru says instantly, raising his hands as if he’s a burglar in front of the police. you turn to him in disbelief, scoffing indignantly at his pitiful attempt to get out of trouble.
“no, it was your idea!” you insist, jabbing your finger at satoru. he gasps dramatically and pretends to faint, to which you roll your eyes good-naturedly. you turn back to suguru, rounding your eyes in an attempt to gain his favor. “i swear, sugu, this was all satoru’s idea!”
“you liar,” satoru grumbles, crossing his arms and huffing childishly. you turn and glare at him, and coupled with suguru’s unimpressed look, it’s enough to scare satoru off. 
and now it’s just you and suguru, alone in your mint-scented living room. christmas pop plays in the background from another room, and maybe it’s just the dim lighting but you swear you can see suguru’s face go a shade redder than before.
“hey,” you mumble, averting your eyes.
“hey,” suguru replies. he smiles, and just like that, all his features soften. “don’t you want to know how i got here so fast?” he drawls, reaching out and brushing something off your shoulder. his fingers trail down from your shoulder to your collarbone, which is all the more prominent thanks to the dress you’re wearing. incidentally, it’s the same dress you had sent suguru a picture of yesterday—maybe that’s why he can’t take his eyes off you.
“yeah, how did you get here so fast?” you ask curiously, suppressing a shiver as his fingers trace your figure down to your waist. suguru’s eyes go from your dress to your face, and he grins.
“well, i had to leave right before my meeting started and bribe some passengers with a shit-ton of money for their seats,” suguru starts, taking you by the hand and leading you to your shared room. “and believe me, it was a lot of money. and most people still said no, ‘cause they want to be with their families for the holidays.”
he makes a face as he pushes open the door, and stops in his tracks. your face grows warm as you realize that you had set up your room for him too—it’s illuminated with soft candlelight, the linen sheets are changed, and you—oh, you look perfect in suguru’s eyes. it takes a great deal of his willpower to stop himself from fucking you right there and then.
“oh, yeah, it was a lot of money,” suguru continues, smiling down at you coyly. “between the deal i just fucked up and the ridiculous amount of bribes i had to make, i think you owe me.”
suguru makes his way over to your bed and sits, spreading his legs and showing off his growing erection. you grin, following him and sitting in his lap. “did you miss me, sugu?”
“damn right i did.”
and barely a minute or two later, he’s got you face-down ass-up in the sheets, a calloused hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your increasing moans. “shh, wouldn’t want our guests to hear ya,” suguru whispers, breath hot against the side of your face.
you squirm underneath him, mind hazy from the feeling of his dick buried in you for the first time in.. how long? does it matter? “s-sugu, please fuck me,” you mumble, pretending not to notice the way he hasn’t bothered doing anything to you besides use you as his personal cockwarmer.
in the short time he’s been inside you, suguru’s barely moved—and fuck, he enjoys watching you squirm around and beg him to do more than just.. nothing.
“sugu, plea—”
he cuts you off with a slap to your ass, relishing the lewd whine that slips out of your lips in reply. “fuck, you thought y’could get me back here by fuckin’ with my best friend?” suguru cooes, shifting his hips. 
“we didn’t—”
“yeah, no shit, baby,” suguru interrupts dryly. “otherwise this’d be a lot worse for you—and for him.”
suguru’s dark eyes flit over to where the dress you bought lies, discarded somewhere in the corner of your room. he grins and uses his hand to turn your head, gesturing at the fabric. “and i bet he was the one who gave you the idea to do whatever the fuck that was,” suguru drawls, clicking his tongue. “tell me, whose idea was it to have him send me that pic? yours, or his?”
when you don’t reply, suguru sighs dramatically and grabs your hair, pulling your head up enough for him to lean down and whisper in your ear, “this’ll be a lot easier for you if you just answer—the—question,” suguru breathes, punctuating each word with another slap to your ass.
“it wasn’t m-mine!” you cry, looking up at suguru with shiny, rounded doe eyes. “i just wanted to—”
suguru cuts you off by pulling out of your drenched cunt just enough to allow him enough space to go back in, and his thrust is harsh and hits all the right places inside of you. your walls clench around him, and shit, suguru realizes that he missed fucking you like this more than anything else in the world.
“fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he hisses, shifting his hips again to allow himself more space to move. “did ya not touch yourself at all while i was gone?”
“n-no,” you stutter, swallowing another pornographic sound from escaping your lips. “i waited for you, sugu,” you gasp, feeling him hit spots you haven’t felt throb in a painfully long time. and fuck, you’re so out of practice that affer just a few thrusts, you’re mewling all over his cock and whining about how you’re close to cumming.
your vision gets speckled with spots of white as thoughts of suguru take up every corner of your mind, even as he teases you for getting so close so fast. but it’s not your fault you’re about to cum faster than you’ve ever done—you’ve tried fucking yourself with your fingers on times when suguru was out for work, but he’s spoiled you with his dick more than you can imagine.
and that’s why you cum all over his cock in what has to be a record-breaking time, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you mumble indecipherable words.
“aw, look at you,” suguru murmurs, stroking your hair as you tremble underneath him. even though it’s unbearably cold outside, it feels scorching hot in here—but maybe that’s because of both of your heaving chests in the aftermath of your orgasm.
“‘m sorry, sugu,” you mumble hazily, and suguru chuckles in response.
“it’s alright, baby,” he responds lightly. “y’know i like fucking your bratty cunt dumb every once in a while, heh.”
you two lie there, basking in each other’s presence for a little while longer before the bedroom door creaks open. and to your horror, satoru stands there, seemingly bored by the whole scene.
“can you two keep it down?” satoru groans, dragging a hand down his face. “we’re trying to have a karaoke competition, but you guys keep going agh—”
suguru hurls a pillow at satoru, cutting off his mocking moan. “you’re next, asshole,” suguru grumbles, getting off of you and covering you with the sheets.
“you’re gonna fuck me next? wow, what happened to hi, hel— oww, okay, i’m going, i’m going!”
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makeitmingi ¡ 22 days ago
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When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 10]
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Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn
Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho
Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?
[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]
Word count: 3.3K
Chapter warning(s): Mentions of the boys' one night stands outside of the house, Mingi is flirty
Usually, Hongjoong would have been cooped up in his office the entire morning. The others were used to seeing him skip breakfast. So it was weird when they saw him sitting in the second floor lounge, going over papers.
"What's wrong with your office?" Seonghwa asked. Even he was curious as to why the captain was out here.
"There's nothing wrong with my office. I'm just sitting out here for a change of environment." Hongjoong wasn't the best at lying, especially to his best friend.
"Whatever you say..." Seonghwa wasn't convinced but he was hungry and wanted breakfast.
"Can you ask them to send me another coffee when you're down there?" Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa nodded and headed downstairs.
"Morning, hyung." Those that were having their breakfast in the dining room greeted the oldest.
"Morning. Send Hongjoong another coffee. Second floor lounge." He acknowledged the others then gave Hongjoong's order to the maid. She bowed and ran to the kitchen to make Hongjoong's coffee.
"How was Mingi's race last night? I didn't hear anything from him." Seonghwa asked Yunho. Yunho merely shrugged.
"I have no idea, I haven't heard from him either. But considering how he isn't in his room, I'm guessing he stayed out the whole night, probably to celebrate a win. You know those girls like to glue themselves to him." Yunho chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. Seonghwa hummed and ate his breakfast.
"Mr Park, the physician is here. Shall I let him in?" The butler came in, informing Seonghwa with a bow.
"Yes, wake San and let him know then bring to doctor to his room directly." Seonghwa replied. The butler nodded and bowed before leaving the dining room.
"Was it that bad?" Jongho asked.
"The opponent last night clocked him bad. We just want to make sure there's nothing internal that's too serious." Yeosang informed.
"I've got to go, got a meeting with my contractor for the new casino. Have a nice day everyone." Wooyoung jumped up, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair and running out of the room.
"Wooyoung hyung's been so busy with the casino nearing completion." Jongho noted.
"From what I saw last time, it's coming together nicely though. San's still going through the investors that you put together for him. Everyone seems to want a stake, the two did a good job in securing the lot since it's in prime real estate." Seonghwa said.
"That's a good breakfast. Now it's time to go to work." Yunho stretched and stood up to take his leave.
"There's a car coming in. Open the gates." They all heard Hongjoong come down the stairs, announcing to the mansion staff. Turning their heads, they saw the captain jog past.
"What visitor does hyung have?" Yeosang asked. Seonghwa shrugged but did look at the door way curiously.
"(y/n)! You're here." Hongjoong greeted you at the door.
"Hongjoong, good morning." You bowed. Honestly, you were still trying to keep your shock and awe to a minimum upon seeing this place, it was huge.
"Your drive way is very long. Luckily I took a cab or else I would have had to walk." You chuckled.
"Ah, sorry about that. I should have told you. But anyway, I would have gone to pick you or send a car over." Hongjoong said.
"I'm just kidding. It's no worries at all." You removed your shoes. Hongjoong walked before you, leading you further into the house. The maids and butlers that crossed your paths bowed to you and Hongjoong. It was awkward for you so you just bowed back, compared to Hongjoong who just continued ahead.
"(y/n) sshi, you're our new gardener?" Yunho's eyebrows raised in surprise as he greeted you, as if this was the first time he knew that you were going to be the gardener.
"Temporarily. I overheard Hongjoong needing one so I offered my help." You explained.
"Ah, I see. I guess it's good to know our garden is in the safe hands of an expert." Yunho complimented.
"I'm not an expert but thank you for thinking so highly of me." You smiled kindly. Hongjoong cast a slightly suspicious look at you then at Yunho, then back to you.
"So, the garden is this way." Hongjoong intercepted. You hummed and followed him out the glass doors to the back garden.
"Wow... It looks even better in person." You gasped.
"All the work of the landscaper when we got here and all the other gardeners that have worked here. I'll be honest, none of us here are really good with plants. It's just nice to look at so we decided to keep it and maintain it." Hongjoong rubbed the back of his neck.
"Ah, I see. I'll take note of that." You chuckled.
"Also, if you need anything, any extra tools or equipment, go ahead and get them. We'll reimburse you, you shouldn't pay out of your own pocket." Hongjoong smiled a little.
"Thank you. I'll just survey the garden now." You bowed your head awkwardly and stepped up.
"Isn't that..." Jongho tilted his head.
"Mhmm." Yunho nodded as they all gathered there, keeping their distance but still observing you and Hongjoong in the back garden. Seonghwa remained indifferent.
"You did this... Didn't you?" Seonghwa looked up at the tallest. Yunho merely shrugged in response but his smile was enough of a reply.
"Is it okay for her to be here?" Yeosang asked. No one replied to that, Seonghwa was too busy analysing.
When you looked up from where you were observing the plants, you looked behind Hongjoong to see his 4 friends or brothers standing there, staring at the two of you. Suddenly, you became so self aware and self conscious. Hongjoong followed your line of sight and turned around to see the 4 there.
"I'm good on my own, Hongjoong. If you're needed somewhere else..." You cleared your throat. Hongjoong nodded stiffly, realising he was just standing there with nothing much to add anyway.
"If you need anything, just let me know. Or let any of the staff know." He said. You hummed and watched as he headed back in.
"What are you guys doing?" Hongjoong asked.
"I should be asking you that. Since when were you close enough to her to ask her to be our gardener?" Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow. Hongjoong shrugged.
"We're not close. She overheard that we needed a new gardener and volunteered to help temporarily." Hongjoong explained.
"Oh, she overheard coincidentally?" Seonghwa shot Yunho a look, who looked away innocently.
"What?" Hongjoong blinked in confusion.
"Nothing. Just... be smart about this. Inform the others about her being here. I don't want to imagine what will happen to her if she sees us drag a corpse out there or something." Seonghwa said. Everyone nodded and Seonghwa went up to his office.
"Is this why you were working outside today, hyung? Waiting for her arrival?" Jongho nudged the captain. Hongjoong shot Jongho a dirty look and pushed his arm away.
"Of course not. I just needed more breathing space. My office was getting too stuffy." Hongjoong said.
"Sure..."
"Don't you all have work to do?" Hongjoong barked.
"Alright, alright. Geez, hyung. No need to shout." Yunho winced and covered his ears. They didn't realise that you were looking at them the entire time.
"They're an odd bunch." You noted to yourself as you inspected the plants in the plots.
"So are you going to be working outside the whole day, hyung?" Yeosang asked. Hongjoong glared at them and they all scurried away.
"Listen, if she needs anything, get it for her. Drinks, snacks, whatever, you understand?" Hongjoong turned to the butler. The butler nodded and bowed respectfully as Hongjoong went back upstairs. He gathered the files and papers that he had left in the lounge and returned back to his office.
With his coffee in his hand, he pulled back the curtains behind his chair, letting in all the light from the big window. And Hongjoong's eyes immediately found you.
"She's something else." He says to himself as he sees you used your fingers to dig through the soil.
All the other girls he has come across never liked getting their hands dirty but you so enthusiastically touched the dirt with bare hands.
"These two should not be planted next to each other." You noted, looking at the herb garden that was there. You assumed that it was for those that cooked on the estate.
"No wonder you're dying." You pouted a little, talking to the plant as you touched the wilting leaf.
"Miss, please help yourself to some refreshments and snacks. If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to let us know." A butler came out with a tray of items and a small, foldable table tucked under his arm.
"Thank you! Let me help you." You rushed over to help him unfold the lawn table he had with him. He seemed surprised that you had dropped what you were doing and came over to help him.
"Oh, miss. Don't worry, I can handle it." He bowed repeatedly but you took the tray from him politely.
"It's okay." You giggled and put the tray down on the table.
"Thank you so much, miss." He bowed deeply and poured the drink from the job into the glass for you. You smiled and received the glass, taking a sip.
"Ah, wait. There is something. Do you know if anyone uses the herb garden out here?" You asked him before he left.
"I'm not sure. Let me check with the kitchen." He said and went back into the house.
"So there is a kitchen crew here." You mumbled to yourself. You sipped the cold, fruit tea that was prepared. It was very delicious and refreshing while standing out in the sun.
"Miss, I have asked and the chef said that he used to take from the herb garden but lately, the herbs have not been in very good condition and they are not as fragrant as before so he has not been havesting." The butler came out, informing you. You nodded with a hum and thanked him.
"Looks like we have to repot and add some new plants while I try to revive these other ones." You said to yourself, making a mental note.
"So, how bad is it?" A voice came behind you. You straightened up and turned around to see one of men there. You didn't recognise him or knew his name.
"Hello. Nice to meet you. It's not that bad, just need to move the plants around." You bowed respectfully.
"That's good to hear. My name is Seonghwa. (y/n), right?" He tilted his head.
"Yes. Nice to meet you, Seonghwa sshi." You awkwardly bowed again. He exuded so much confidence and power, plus he was so elegantly beautiful, you couldn't take your eyes off him.
"Thank you for helping us. Hongjoong said you volunteered to be our gardener." Seonghwa said.
"Oh, no need to thank. Any chance to work with plants in such a big garden." You shook your head. Maybe you didn't know him but there was an intimidating aura around him. Seonghwa was purposely trying to psych you out.
Just in case you had any ulterior motive in being here and getting close to Hongjoong. He didn't know that Hongjoong was the one constantly seeking you out.
"Do you need anything so far?" Seonghwa asked.
"Not at the moment. I didn't bring my tools with me but I will the next time. Hopefully to revive the herb garden." You said.
"What is Hwa doing?" Hongjoong's eyes widened when he turned to the window and saw Seonghwa standing there, talking to you. You were shifting on your feet, looking a little frightened.
"What's a pretty girl doing out here?" A deep voice appeared. Mingi stood there, a smirk on his face.
"No, Mingi ah. No." Seonghwa shook his head. Mingi obviously didn't recognise you from Hongjoong's mother's funeral.
"Selfish." Mingi scoffed but obeyed and headed into the house. Seonghwa sighed and shook his head. Having seen Mingi come, Hongjoong had raced down. Mingi was one of the ones that liked to get flirty with girls. For some reason, he didn't like the idea of Mingi trying to flirt with you.
"Was that Mingi?" Hongjoong lied and acted nonchalant, trying to hide the fact that he was panting from how fast he ran down the stairs. You blinked in confusion at his behaviour.
"Yes, why? He just got home." Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I... Uh, needed to ask him something... So, (y/n), how's the garden?" Hongjoong changed the subject.
"It's alright. My plan is to revive the herb garden and some stuff need to be moved around, they shouldn't be grown together. And some of them are planted in the wrong soil." You explained.
"I guess the gardener before you wasn't as good as we thought." Hongjoong joked.
"They're common mistakes, I guess." You chuckled.
"Didn't you have to find Mingi?" Seonghwa cleared his throat as he reminded Hongjoong. Hongjoong nodded stiffly, giving Seonghwa a suspicious glance.
"See you later, (y/n)." Hongjoong said. You waved as he went back into the house. Seonghwa didn't stay too long too since you just went back to what you were doing. Honestly, it was awkward to have any conversation with him so you focussed on the plants.
"Mingi ah. You don't recognise her?" Hongjoong asked. Mingi shook his head, a look of confusion on his face.
"She's the girl that was at my mother's funeral... The one that knew her..." Hongjoong reminded.
"Oh! Oh... I didn't recognise her. I've only seen her like once, hyung. I barely remember all the girls that hang with us." Mingi shrugged. Hongjoong facepalmed.
"Whatever but no flirting, okay? She's here to be our temporary gardener, that's all." Hongjoong lectured.
"Yeah, yeah, captain. I get it, she's off limits." Mingi waved him off.
"I was going to tell everyone about her being here and working in the house tonight but I guess I should tell everyone now." Hongjoong sighed and took his phone out to send a text to the group.
"And Mingi, no weapons, no blood, nothing of that sort on the days she's here." Hongjoong said.
"Yes, captain." Mingi saluted and went to the kitchen to find some food since he was a little hungover from partying all night.
"The doctor's done with San." Seonghwa came and informed Hongjoong. The captain nodded and headed upstairs with his second in command to check on their brother. Seonghwa knocked on San's door lightly before the two of them entered. San was against the headboard, with an annoyed look on his face.
"Oh, hyungs. It's the two of you. I thought it was that annoying doctor again." San rolled his eyes, reading documents on his iPad. Seonghwa shook his head.
"He was just telling you to get bed rest, San ah. Yeosang said you went down bad last night." Seonghwa said.
"I'm fine. It's just some minor injuries, it's normal. I don't need bed rest." San shrugged.
"Just listen to the doctor, San. No fighting for a bit. In the mean time, help Wooyoung out with the casino stuff." Hongjoong instructed. San was going to protest but decided against it.
"Fine." He slumped.
"At least until you've recovered. Oversee things as the owner, just don't participate." Seonghwa told him.
"Easy for you to say, hyung. You get into a motorcycle crash and still continue racing." San glared. Seonghwa's eyes widened but San knew what he was doing.
"You what?" Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa muttered a curse and shot San the stink eye before slowly turning to see Hongjoong there, with his hands on his hips and a disappointed frown on his face. San smiled victoriously, he wasn't going down on his own.
"It wasn't a major crash." Seonghwa sighed.
"Still a crash, nonetheless Hwa! How could you continued racing?" Hongjoong scolded. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and held Hongjoong's shoulder, pushing him out of the room.
"Hongjoong, don't overreact. It was a minor thing. No serious injuries." Seonghwa said.
"Still, you should tell me if you get hurt." Hongjoong said.
"I will, I will. Now please get back to work. I don't want to find you loitering in the garden." Seonghwa teased. Hongjoong squinted his eyes at Seonghwa.
"Don't even go there." He warned and walked back to his office to do work.
If Hongjoong was worried about you, he could just periodically check in on you from his office window. No, not creepy at all.
"Luckily I have my spade at least." You sighed in relief as you dug through the soil to uproot one of the plants. You felt bad for creating such a mess and getting the soil onto the pavement. But you needed to move the plants, you would have to help them clean up the pavements later when you're done.
"There you go. Welcome to your new home." You smiled as you placed the plant into the new hole you dug, shovelling the soil over the roots and lightly packing it down.
"Excuse me, where's the bathroom?" You entered the house.
"Let me take you, miss." The maid bowed and led you down one of the hallways. She opened the bathroom door for you.
"Thanks." You smiled and entered. The first thing you did was wash your hands thoroghly, not wanting to drop any dirt or soil on the ground of the house.
When you were done with the bathroom, you stepped out and almost bumped into someone.
"I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed and bowed repeatedly. The man shot you an odd look. He was covered in injuries.
"It's fine." He mumbled and walked past you, continuing on his way. Even if you didn't know him, it was concerning to see someone so badly hurt. Was he in a fight? Or did he get beaten up?
"Miss, do you need help getting back to the garden?" A maid came up to you when she saw you standing there in the hallway. You lied and nodded your head. With a small smile, she led you back to where the backyard was.
"Thanks." You smiled gratefully and went back to the area you were initially working on.
"Yunho sshi?" You blinked, seeing him stand there, looking at the hole in the soil that you had dug up previously.
"Why are you digging holes?" He asked.
"Some of the plants are in the wrong soil or shouldn't be grown next to each other so I'm trying to move them. I can't do it all today but I'll start plot by plot." You explained.
"Isn't all soil the same? It's dirt." He stated. There was such a confused look on his face as he tilted his head at you.
"A lot of people think all soil is the same, just dirt. But there are different nutrition levels, the way they retain water, all that differs from soil to soil. Even how they pack around the roots." You giggled.
"Oh... If all the soil here is the same, our gardeners before you must really suck." Yunho clicked his tongue.
"Hongjoong said the same thing earlier too but all I can say is, being a gardener isn't as easy as it seems." You shrugged.
"You're too humble, (y/n)." Yunho smiled charmingly. The two of you burst out laughing. You were unaware that Yunho sent a small wave to someone who was watching your entire interaction from his office window.
~
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sierrale8ne ¡ 2 months ago
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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER THIRTEEN
thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…
pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc
taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch
warnings this one is pretty sad ngl, some internal realizations, angst
kalena speakss 🪽! don’t jump me i swear things are happier next chapter lmao
July 2025 — Los Angeles, California
I’m happy.
The phrase plays over and over in my head like a mantra, like I'm trying to convince myself more than I am everyone else.
Music blares loudly at the Sparks gala, some fancy art museum that was all done up to make our coach and our GM look good, and to make the hundreds of rich donors in the building give money to the organization.
It’s working though, apparently a new practice facility is on the way.
It’s my first Gala, which means Brit dressed me in a fancy pinstriped suit: white button up, black tie. My hair, freshly dyed, falls straight over my shoulders. Some silver chains layered on my neck, studs in my ears.
I look good.
And in a room full of women, I should be taking advantage of the opportunity. But I’m not even sure I want to with the way Maraye is all I can think about.
I think it’s been, scratch that, it's literally been the longest five days of my life. I’ve sent so many texts that my thumbs are swollen, and checked my phone at all hours of the night that my eyes were burning. 
She runs through my head during all hours of the day. And if I had a chance to talk to her just once I think everything would be fine.
So you can imagine how quick my neutral expression just flips when I see her. Maraye, in a beautiful floor length navy gown. Her hair done up in a side part, a golden cuff tracing her ear. The tattoo that trails down her neck to her shoulder is even more visible by the way her hair drapes over her shoulder.
I knew she was here, her attendance being part of the reason I dressed up and made my way here. She was all I needed to see. Not all the investors that wanted to talk to the number one pick, or anyone else who wanted me to be Paige Bueckers the basketball player.
I needed to see her. The one who made me feel like I was just me.
"Either y'all say something to each other or move on, P." Cameron snickers as she watches my attempt to just go through the motions. "You have all these girls here and you’re not paying ‘em any mind."
Raye had just finished up a conversation with Coach Roberts. Which makes the smallest change to my expression because there she was, smiling and laughing with my head coach and I can’t help but to wonder if they’re talking about me. If just a little bit of that bright smile of hers is at the mention of my name.
"Better watch out, that girl over there with her mouth watering." Dearica jokes as she points to whoever the hell is making her way over to Raye with her hand on Raye’s arm. 
A blonde. Hair shorter than mine and she herself is probably shorter than me too. 
I can’t even see her face, but I bet she’s smiling, telling her some corny joke because it makes Raye giggle, and now I’m angry. There’s no way it could be that funny.
I feel wrong. Out of place in a room where, in the least cocky sounding way possible, I literally commanded attention.
But none of it matters, because I stand here, letting my teammates ridicule me over something they know nothing about, while wanting to insert myself into whatever she and Maraye were discussing.
Even more than that, me and her had our own private matters to discuss. There were too many words left unsaid to bring to the surface.
I couldn’t let it all go to waste without talking to her. That’s it. I let it go for five days, but any longer and I was sure that there’d be no more fixing it.
“Okay, I was just kidding but— oh my God you have feelings for her.” Cameron chuckles, and from the corner of my eye I see her jaw drop a little.
“Cam, just shut up for a second.”
I think about when I went to dinner with Nika, and the most important thing that sets in my head while I’m shamelessly staring is when she asked if there was anything holding me back.
Then, I said yes. That the thing was holding me back from Raye was my career.
But now, I feel like an idiot because the real thing holding me back was myself. My shitty relationship skills and my very obvious commitment issues when it came to having feelings for someone.
In what felt like milliseconds, my feet were moving faster than my brain and I was almost in reach of her when my eyes connected with Raye’s. 
I can’t read her face. If she’s still hurt or if she wants to find a way to hit me with a car. It’s just blank. Which in my opinion is ten times worse than her giving me a reaction. There is none. 
I do, however, pick up on this; the pure amusement when a girl approached me.
I remember her. Tanned skin and curls that framed her face. One of the few girls I’ve had a one night stand with after getting drafted. 
"Paige, hey!” She grins, her hand resting on my forearm.
I couldn't help but look past her to see Raye’s response. It was clear that she didn't look pleased, turning away to listen to whatever was being said by other blondie. 
I had to make a decision and it was literally my future vs. my very embarrassing past. I just know that letting this conversation continue for even a second longer, was a second that would make Raye hate me more than I think she already does. 
"Sorry, if you'll excuse me." I mutter without another thought, not even taking a second look at the woman in front of me, choosing to continue my path to her.
Raye looks at me shocked. Her eyes went wider and her serious expression faltered just slightly.
I don’t even speak, just inserting myself in the space between the fellow blonde and the woman I hoped to take home tonight. Which might be just a bit forward, but I decided then that I didn’t even care.
"Buckets, good to see you!" The blonde greets me, a smile on her face as she senses nothing ill behind my appearance and shakes my hand.
My eyes don’t even look down to her for more than a second, physically stuck to the beauty in front of me. 
"Mind if I cut in and speak to Maraye real quick?"
Raye raises her brow before placing her empty glass down. A cup of what I assume had to be a lemon drop. 
Her hand presses to that girl's shoulder, smiling much to my irritation. But luckily she ends the conversation there, hopefully keeping it that way for the rest of the night.
Then she’s walking off in front of me, and my legs are moving all too fast to catch up to her. I end up following her out the gala hall and down the hallway, past some stairs, and then she stops. Turing on her Jimmy Choo heels to look at me with her arms crossed.
When I was laying in bed or sitting on my couch, the words I needed to say came easy. Having her stand in front of me though, makes it so much fucking harder. 
“You don’t get to do this.”
“Ra—”
“Breaking up my conversation? What, Paige. What could you possibly have to say to me right now?” She asks me.
It’s a good question. I don’t know what I should tell her. Sorry isn’t going to cut it, not with her. I know better than to even try it again. 
“Raye, we just need to talk. That’s it. It’s been five days.”
“And I don’t think that’s long enough! I spent seven days thinking about you and you spent seven days avoiding telling me the truth.” She bites. “I’m not ready. Let me be ready.”
And just as fast as I got her alone, she’s pushing off her heels and walking past me, so quick that I don’t even get the chance to reach for her. To hold her back and tell her everything that I’m feeling.
That— the inability to speak to the only person that I really want to be around— that hurts more than anything else I think I’ve ever felt in my life.
So I lied. I’m not happy.
I’m very fucking miserable.
—
July 2025 — Los Angeles, California
It’s hard to explain the feeling.
When I was in her house— Paige trying her hardest to keep me there, within reach— my mind was racing. When we stood face to face at the gala the other night and Paige was looking at me with all the hurt so obvious in her eyes, my heart almost stopped completely.
But now that it’s been over a week since I found out, I think the closest thing to describe all this is numb. I’m numb to it all.
Every time something comes along that reminds me of her— a pretty blonde on the tv, a tweet about the sparks, anything fucking purple— I don’t get upset nor do I cry, I just sit there. Like I'm doing now.
Cassie sits soundly next to me on the couch, I’ve decided that I really needed some older sister love tonight. My head rests on her shoulder, a plate of banana pudding in my lap that reminds me too much of Paige and the first night I really got to know her.
It’s all too emotional. The way Cassie runs her hands through my hair or rubs my shoulder without asking questions. Add on the romance movie on the screen.
As if it couldn’t get any worse, 10 Things I Hate About You plays on my TV, and watching Kat Stratford read her poem makes the tears flow from my eyes nearly as hard as they did last week.
“Ra—no, don’t cry! It’s okay.” Cassie immediately attempts to comfort me, but my eyes aren’t even glued to the screen anymore.
They stare up at the ceiling, as if looking at the white expanse would stop them from falling.
It doesn’t. 
It just gives me the perfect background to picture me and her. All of the late night FaceTimes. I can see the screen of my Mac, or my phone, and I can see her in the center of it. I can hear that laugh, loud and so uniquely Paige. 
All the late night drives, the chipotle runs, the waffle house breakfasts. Everything I’ve ever done with her just consumes me. 
Cassie’s palm spreads over my check, attempting to wipe what’s left of the streaks on my face. It’s almost second nature to her, taking care of me.
“Okay I wasn’t gonna mention Paige, but now you’re crying over a movie we’ve seen thousands of times.” She starts tugging me into her and rubbing my back gently. “Talk to me Chuchi.” She pouts and I laugh at the nickname I probably haven’t heard since I was like 12 years old.
I’ve done a good job at keeping this whole Paige thing under wraps. Nobody knew what was going on between us anyway, and I don’t think we really knew what was going on either until it was being stripped away.
But it was stupid of me to think my sister wouldn’t pick up on the signs. I used to find every excuse to bring Paige up in conversation, and now I haven’t talked about her for a week. 
“Is it supposed to hurt this bad?” I ask. “Cause if it is, I swear I’m never getting involved with another woman again.” I sniff, wiping my eyes languidly.
“If it does, that just means you really like her.” Cassie explains. It’s so soft. Like saying anything else, anything real, would break me apart into a million pieces. “You wanna tell me what happened?”
I do. So, I do.
I tell her everything, she’s my sister of course. I leave out nothing, telling her everything I felt when Paige first tumbled into us at the game. To the dinner party, which makes me cry some more over the banana pudding.
Each memory replays in my head like a vivid movie scene. The way Paige kissed me: always skillful but still a bit hesitant like she was trying to learn me, learn my tells and what makes me smile. And as I speak I can still feel her lips and her hands, smell her cologne so vividly that I swear it’s probably lingering on my hoodie right now.
I can so clearly recall everything that went down in her apartment. How fucking happy I was behind that door and how my smile only grew when she opened it and I got to see her again. After days of yearning for her. 
After days of wanting her and thinking of her and needing her.
How she touched me that day. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell her about how Julian and I were done. But she still touched me so intimately. Like she already knew. 
Her hands on my thighs and mine playing with that blonde hair on the nape of her neck. Blue eyes staring into mine like she’d die if she looked away.
Paige had that way of making you think you were the only person in the world. The only person she wanted or cared for, just by looking into your eyes.
And I fell victim to it.
I remember every single word she said to me that day. I also remember every single word I said to her.
Which doesn’t really help when you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not in the wrong. That walking out was a good decision.
The way her voice raised when she got defensive, telling me I didn’t “get to be upset”. Then the way it immediately contrasted when she apologized. That subtle crack of her voice replayed in my mind over and over like a skipping record. 
I’ve only ever been cheated on once in my life. I was young, in high school, in a relationship that lasted a few years.
And that one hurt. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep.
It did make for some good music.
But this. This whatever with Paige feels ten times worse.
I swear I can feel each pulse and throb of my heart in my chest. Each mention of her name causes a few stray, dramatic tears to pool at my waterline.
By the time I finish telling Cassie everything, my nose is already puffy and reddened. I think I’ve stopped crying now, but I'm not sure because my cheeks are still wet. Tissues pile in my lap and some new romance movie plays on the screen. 
I didn’t know how much I was holding back until now. Until it was all laid out in front of me and my sister.
“You gotta talk to her, Raye.” She shrugs. I know I do. But thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things.
I look at her wearily. My tongue is poking at the corner of my lips as I think. “I dunno if I’m ready yet, Cas.” I mumble, my voice low. Almost embarrassed.
“I know.” She comforts, running her finger over my knee. “But maybe hearing her out is gonna make things clearer for you. Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.”
I let that sink in. Replaying her words in my head until they stick. 
Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.
— 
July 2025 — Seattle, Washington  
The ball passed through the net consistently. Swish after swish as if I had a point to make or something to prove. 
And I do.
I’ve been playing like shit these last couple games before all-star. I blame it on Maraye and my inability to get her out of my head.
So instead of getting sleep, and quite possibly dreaming about her and those perfect eyes, I’m on the court at our hotel, putting up shot after shot until the sound of the nylon and the leather becoming one just meshes in my brain like music.
Music. Yet another thing that reminds me of her.
“What the hell are you doing?”
It’s Rickea. Her voice is easy to spot even with my back turned.
“I’m getting shots up Kea.”
“Well I can see that. It’s two in the morning, P.” 
I chase after my rebound once again before looking at her lazily. Completely decked out in Sparks gear, similarly to myself.
I think my silence in this whole matter is part of the reason why I’m struggling so badly. But I don’t know who to talk to. Azzi and Nika would take it upon themselves to fix it. Cam would call me an idiot, which I’ve accepted at this point but still it isn’t what I need. 
Kea already told me my head would be served on a silver platter for making a mess.
So I keep it all to myself.
Basketball was my therapy. I’d get in the gyms and shoot till someone was coming in and telling me to go home. Then, everything would be fine.
Except now it’s not fine. Because I get up, go to the gym, and the entire time I’m shooting, I just think about Raye.
“Ion know what to do, Kea.” I shrug, my voice sounding so different than what I’m used to hearing. It’s not certain, actually the complete opposite.
I take another shot. The second it leaves my hands, I know it’s off. The rim clunks loudly at my miss, and that alone is enough to break me down from the inside out.
“Paige.”
“I need to get her back.” I sniff, not even registering the single tear that immediately trails down my cheek. “Help me get her back, Kea.”
Rickea is walking over to me in an instant, stepping in front of me to stop me from grabbing another ball and letting this cycle consume me for another couple hours. She looks at me with something I can’t quite grasp. Like sympathy, but at the same time her eyes are stern like she’s pissed at me.
I deserve that. She told me she’d kill me if I hurt Raye. And I did, bad.
“Paige. Jus’ breathe, aight? Breathe and listen to me for a second.” She says, hands splayed on my shoulders in an attempt to ground me. 
This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been with any of my teammates, let alone Rickea. Usually it’s dumb jokes, and making fun of each other, prying a bit too hard into each of our personal lives. But I nod anyway, taking a shaking breath and wiping my face.
“I’m not gonna tell you how much you fucked up. You already know that.” She starts. “You’re so used to being in control that when you’re not, you start spiraling. Just breathe. Give her time.”
She’s right. I’m usually in control of everything. My career, my family, Maraye. And now that she’s taking control of us, causing that distance, I don’t know what to do. 
“This shit fuckin’ hurts, Kea.” I groan, turning around to walk over to the bench. “I know I made a mistake but damn, it’s eating me alive.”
She racks up the balls for me before taking a seat next to me. I probably stink, all the sweat from my late night workout. But still Rickea wraps an arm around me, much different than any of the hugs we’ve had before. Like she doesn’t care about anything else but comforting me.
“You see where she’s coming from tho, right?” She asks me. “If Raye doesn’t wanna talk it’s prolly because she doesn’t wanna hurt you more. I know her well enough to know that mouth is reckless.” She jokes, and it brings a smile to my face because it’s true.
“So instead, she got me payin’ for my mistake by feeling the absence of her in my life.”
“Exactly!” Kea nods as if this is some astute observation. “Well, I dunno if that’s a good thing. But hold onto some hope, Five. She likes you. She doesn’t have to tell me that for me to see it.”
Surprisingly the words do soothe me a bit. If I’m feeling like shit over my own decision, I can only imagine how she’s feeling. With all the shit she got going on work wise, to have me pile more shit on top of it must be terrible.
“Just wait it out a little longer. I like you both together more than I like you apart, okay?” 
I nod, holding on to those words tight.
Even though I’m missing her. I just have to wait it out. Whenever she’s ready.
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spitdrunken ¡ 1 year ago
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Vox x Reader Relationship Headcanons
This post contains SPOILERS in the sense that it is based off of the version of Vox as presented in episode 2. None of the actual plot points featured within are discussed. notes: background vox x valentino / polyamory (reader only dates vox), extremely unhealthy relationships, stalking, manipulation, hypnosis, power imbalance. kidnapping + physical abuse mention (neither done by vox)
To catch the eye of a demon as powerful as Vox is not an ideal situation. While he could be considered more levelheaded than your average demon, and certainly is when compared to his associates, he still has things that rile him up like no other. No, he doesn’t have a whole string of sexual partners to use and abuse like Valentino does, but that makes the weight of his gaze all the more crushing when it does fall upon someone.
Once you’ve got his interest, it’s practically impossible to slip away from him. He’s got vantage points all across the Pride Ring, being able to slip in and out of its many scattered screens with ease. While the usual tracking Vox Media subjects its customers to is already an invasion of privacy, yours would be on a whole other level.
With how inescapable his company is amongst Sinner demons, it’s more than likely you’ve at least got some kind of device he’d be able to peer into. As soon as your phone is being plugged into a port, he’d be skimming through your messages and search history. Though your face-to-face meetings might have been minimal or non-existent at this point, he would already know far more about you than most of your friends. …You should really clear out your search history more often. But, hey, he’s not unhappy about it! There’s no traces of his presence as soon as he’s done.
Vox cares a great deal about his reputation and image. Not only because he’s the very face of a high-earning brand, but it is also simply the kind of person he is. Whereas someone like Valentino might have gone right ahead and shot any possible partner in the head, Vox is much more careful than that. What would people think, if he simply went around and started electrocuting a bunch of unknowns to death? No, that’s just not his way of doing things whatsoever.
Even besides that, there’s also much more satisfaction in it, to him, to convince you to leave them and join him, of your own accord. Vox has always been the brain behind all operations, the meticulous and thoughtful one, the one who got investors on board and appeared in interviews. In other words, he’s become quite good with words, and can easily come off as charming whenever he so wishes. That is exactly the way he will present himself to you, at least at first: a demon unlike other demons, practically a gentleman.
You wouldn’t have known him from his early days, the time where he still made mistakes, and nobody knew his name. When he invites you over for dinner (through an email that you’re convinced is fake spam, the first couple of times you receive it), he wants to appear nothing but infallible and powerful to you. You, who is only familiar with him through screens, as a flawless news presenter, gameshow host, and much more. A smile would never leave his screen, and he is constantly courteous.
He’s got a couple of expensive gifts at the ready as well, ones that hail from his own company. Perhaps it’s the newest iteration in his own line of phones, or a brand-new kind of security system. He’ll wave off any kind of dismissal of his gift, telling to just take it, you don’t even know how many of those he has lying around! Trust him. (In fact, they are modified to grant him even more easy access into your life. A constant stream of information directed at him, with Vox never even having to enter your device anymore.)
In a place like the Pride Ring in Hell, existence is demeaning at best, and utterly miserable at worst, for the average demon. Vox is more than aware of this and, at first, doesn’t even try his absolute best to sweep you off your feet. The power and the safety net someone such as himself would provide would be more than enough for most people. For the average demon, time spent by his side would be a vast improvement, and no one can deny that.
And, in this case, he is most likely interested in someone with far less power than him: you. Whether actively aware of it or not, and if he was, he’d never admit it, a part of Vox desires to be with someone from whom affection comes more easily. And that is… Not Valentino. Not that he’d ever separate from him, mind you, you’d simply be the antithesis to him. If you aren’t, he’ll make you something closer to that.
One of the largest drawbacks that immediately becomes noticeable, is the political target spending time around Vox makes you. Whether he purposefully makes the two of you appear in Hell’s largest tabloid, or only goes someplace where the two of you are sure to be spotted, you’ll surely become a demon worthy of kidnapping after this. It is exactly this, and the fear that comes along with it, that Vox would weaponize against you.
Wouldn’t it be much better, and safer, to stay in one of the company’s buildings? You’re bound to get kidnapped anywhere else, you know. He’s just looking out for you! Really though, he’d never let something like that happened to you. Not only because such an occurence would cause his reputation to take a great hit, but also because he cares! The praises he heaps on top of you are never outright lies, though some are perhaps exaggerated. He wouldn’t spend so much time on a demon he wasn’t genuinely interested in.
Vox, to the vast majority of people, would come on too strong, and too fast. The kind of attention that comes from someone who hasn’t been denied anything in a long time. At the same time, underneath his collected demeanor, seen in his stalking and meticulous collection of information, there is something that could be seen as a glimmer of desperation.
One might stop and think that, if he truly were as capable and faultless as he makes himself out to be, why would he go through all of this trouble? Wouldn’t simply being himself, or something rather close to it, be enough? This is truly where the heart of the issue, his deeply-hidden insecurity, shines through. Besides just the way the thought of being rejected by you upsets him, as well as he tries to hide it, he can’t simply back out, now that he’s spent so much time around you. He’d never live it down.
If, for some reason, ‘diplomacy’ and his usual wooing doesn’t work… He’s an Overlord for a reason. He still has plenty of tricks left up his sleeve. He can manipulate any digital image he wants, including video, without ever touching editing software. Vox can show you the people closest to you saying outright brutal things about you, with their exact mannerisms and voice. All data gathered through the various devices of his he owns, then capable of creating replicas. In a limited way, he can bend reality to his will.
If even that doesn’t work, he has his powers of hypnosis as a last resort. In this case, he doesn’t like having to use them, would have preferred the satisfaction over getting you to fawn over him all on your own… But it’s just so much easier to plant a little trigger inside your brain. For him to snap his fingers, and have you become more agreeable. Your thoughts growing that tiniest bit hazier, your head the slightest bit heavier.
All you have to do is look into his eyes, and take a deep breath… That’s better, isn’t it? What were you even getting so upset about before, huh? (And again, hypnosis is a last resort here. He’s spent so many years dealing with Valentino’s temper tantrums that he’s an expert at diffusing any kind of argument, and nothing surprises anymore.)
Vox wouldn’t be likely to physically hurt you at all. He sees himself as being capable of more self-control than that, even when in the throes of jealousy. Really, the one you should be most afraid of during this entire ordeal is Valentino. While their relationship is by no means monogamous, and it never will be, he’s still used to being the center of attention. He uses violence and unpredictability to have Vox, largely, at his every beck and call. While Vox isn’t used to having denied things, Valentino’s is many times worse about it.
Initially, he ignores you. Designating you as some kind of fling, not even worthy of being one of his whores, soon ready to be forgotten. Vox doesn’t do those kinds of things all that often but, hey, anything’s bound to happen with an eternity of time to kill, right? It’s only when you become a more permanent fixture in their life that he really becomes more of a threat.
He’ll let his temper cut loose, specifically during times where the two of you are spending time together, causing mayhem around the company. If Vox’s attention is entirely unwanted, this may even be a welcome reprieve for you. Still, Valentino being jealous of you should be about the last thing you want. Frankly, it makes you liable to get shot on a bad day, or because of a poorly worded comment.
…Perhaps it would be better to stay close to Vox, then.
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mostlysignssomeportents ¡ 1 year ago
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Sympathy for the spammer
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Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.
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In any scam, any con, any hustle, the big winners are the people who supply the scammers – not the scammers themselves. The kids selling dope on the corner are making less than minimum wage, while the respectable crime-bosses who own the labs clean up. Desperate "retail investors" who buy shitcoins from Superbowl ads get skinned, while the MBA bros who issue the coins make millions (in real dollars, not crypto).
It's ever been thus. The California gold rush was a con, and nearly everyone who went west went broke. Famously, the only reliable way to cash out on the gold rush was to sell "picks and shovels" to the credulous, doomed and desperate. That's how Leland Stanford made his fortune, which he funneled into eugenics programs (and founding a university):
https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/malcolm-harris/palo-alto/9780316592031/
That means that the people who try to con you are almost always getting conned themselves. Think of Multi-Level Marketing (MLM) scams. My forthcoming novel The Bezzle opens with a baroque and improbable fast-food Ponzi in the town of Avalon on the island of Catalina, founded by the chicle monopolist William Wrigley Jr:
http://thebezzle.org
Wrigley found fast food declasse and banned it from the island, a rule that persists to this day. In The Bezzle, the forensic detective Martin Hench uncovers The Fry Guys, an MLM that flash-freezes contraband burgers and fries smuggled on-island from the mainland and sells them to islanders though an "affiliate marketing" scheme that is really about recruiting other affiliate markets to sell under you. As with every MLM, the value of the burgers and fries sold is dwarfed by the gigantic edifice of finance fraud built around it, with "points" being bought and sold for real cash, which is snaffled up and sucked out of the island by a greedy mainlander who is behind the scheme.
A "bezzle" is John Kenneth Galbraith's term for "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it." In every scam, there's a period where everyone feels richer – but only the scammers are actually cleaning up. The wealth of the marks is illusory, but the longer the scammer can preserve the illusion, the more real money the marks will pump into the system.
MLMs are particularly ugly, because they target people who are shut out of economic opportunity – women, people of color, working people. These people necessarily rely on social ties for survival, looking after each others' kids, loaning each other money they can't afford, sharing what little they have when others have nothing.
It's this social cohesion that MLMs weaponize. Crypto "entrepreneurs" are encouraged to suck in their friends and family by telling them that they're "building Black wealth." Working women are exhorted to suck in their bffs by appealing to their sisterhood and the chance for "women to lift each other up."
The "sales people" trying to get you to buy crypto or leggings or supplements are engaged in predatory conduct that will make you financially and socially worse off, wrecking their communities' finances and shattering the mutual aid survival networks they rely on. But they're not getting rich on this – they're also being scammed:
https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4686468
This really hit home for me in the mid-2000s, when I was still editing Boing Boing. We had a submission form where our readers could submit links for us to look at for inclusion on the blog, and it was overwhelmed by spam. We'd add all kinds of antispam to it, and still, we'd get floods of hundreds or even thousands of spam submissions to it.
One night, I was lying in my bed in London and watching these spams roll in. They were all for small businesses in the rustbelt, handyman services, lawn-care, odd jobs, that kind of thing. They were 10 million miles from the kind of thing we'd ever post about on Boing Boing. They were coming in so thickly that I literally couldn't finish downloading my email – the POP session was dropping before I could get all the mail in the spool. I had to ssh into my mail server and delete them by hand. It was maddening.
Frustrated and furious, I started calling the phone numbers associated with these small businesses, demanding an explanation. I assumed that they'd hired some kind of sleazy marketing service and I wanted to know who it was so I could give them a piece of my mind.
But what I discovered when I got through was much weirder. These people had all been laid off from factories that were shuttering due to globalization. As part of their termination packages, their bosses had offered them "retraining" via "courses" in founding their own businesses.
The "courses" were the precursors to the current era's rise-and-grind hustle-culture scams (again, the only people getting rich from that stuff are the people selling the courses – the "students" finish the course poorer). They promised these laid-off workers, who'd given their lives to their former employers before being discarded, that they just needed to pull themselves up by their own boostraps:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/10/declaration-of-interdependence/#solidarity-forever
After all, we had the internet now! There were so many new opportunities to be your own boss! The course came with a dreadful build-your-own-website service, complete with an overpriced domain sales portal, and a single form for submitting your new business to "thousands of search engines."
This was nearly 20 years ago, but even then, there was really only one search engine that mattered: Google. The "thousands of search engines" the scammers promised to submit these desperate peoples' websites to were just submission forms for directories, indexes, blogs, and mailing lists. The number of directories, indexes, blogs and mailing lists that would publish their submissions was either "zero" or "nearly zero." There was certainly no possibility that anyone at Boing Boing would ever press the wrong key and accidentally write a 500-word blog post about a leaf-raking service in a collapsing deindustrialized exurb in Kentucky or Ohio.
The people who were drowning me in spam weren't the scammers – they were the scammees.
But that's only half the story. Years later, I discovered how our submission form was getting included in this get-rich-quick's mass-submission system. It was a MLM! Coders in the former Soviet Union were getting work via darknet websites that promised them relative pittances for every submission form they reverse-engineered and submitted. The smart coders didn't crack the forms directly – they recruited other, less business-savvy coders to do that for them, and then often as not, ripped them off.
The scam economy runs on this kind of indirection, where scammees are turned into scammers, who flood useful and productive and nice spaces with useless dross that doesn't even make them any money. Take the submission queue at Clarkesworld, the great online science fiction magazine, which famously had to close after it was flooded with thousands of junk submission "written" by LLMs:
https://www.npr.org/2023/02/24/1159286436/ai-chatbot-chatgpt-magazine-clarkesworld-artificial-intelligence
There was a zero percent chance that Neil Clarke would accidentally accept one of these submissions. They were uniformly terrible. The people submitting these "stories" weren't frustrated sf writers who'd discovered a "life hack" that let them turn out more brilliant prose at scale.
They were scammers who'd been scammed into thinking that AIs were the key to a life of passive income, a 4-Hour Work-Week powered by an AI-based self-licking ice-cream cone:
https://pod.link/1651876897/episode/995c8a778ede17d2d7cff393e5203157
This is absolutely classic passive-income brainworms thinking. "I have a bot that can turn out plausible sentences. I will locate places where sentences can be exchanged for money, aim my bot at it, sit back, and count my winnings." It's MBA logic on meth: find a thing people pay for, then, without bothering to understand why they pay for that thing, find a way to generate something like it at scale and bombard them with it.
Con artists start by conning themselves, with the idea that "you can't con an honest man." But the factor that predicts whether someone is connable isn't their honesty – it's their desperation. The kid selling drugs on the corner, the mom desperately DMing her high-school friends to sell them leggings, the cousin who insists that you get in on their shitcoin – they're all doing it because the system is rigged against them, and getting worse every day.
These people reason – correctly – that all the people getting really rich are scamming. If Amazon can make $38b/year selling "ads" that push worse products that cost more to the top of their search results, why should the mere fact that an "opportunity" is obviously predatory and fraudulent disqualify it?
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute
The quest for passive income is really the quest for a "greater fool," the economist's term for the person who relieves you of the useless crap you just overpaid for. It rots the mind, atomizes communities, shatters solidarity and breeds cynicism:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security
The rise and rise of botshit cannot be separated from this phenomenon. The botshit in our search-results, our social media feeds, and our in-boxes isn't making money for the enshittifiers who send it – rather, they are being hustled by someone who's selling them the "picks and shovels" for the AI gold rush:
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy
That's the true cost of all the automation-driven unemployment criti-hype: while we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no
The manic "entrepreneurs" who've been stampeded into panic by the (correct) perception that the economy is a game of musical chairs where the number of chairs is decreasing at breakneck speed are easy marks for the Leland Stanfords of AI, who are creating generational wealth for themselves by promising that their bots will automate away all the tedious work that goes into creating value. Expect a lot more Amazon Marketplace products called "I'm sorry, I cannot fulfil this request as it goes against OpenAI use policy":
https://www.theverge.com/2024/1/12/24036156/openai-policy-amazon-ai-listings
No one's going to buy these products, but the AI picks-and-shovels people will still reap a fortune from the attempt. And because history repeats itself, these newly minted billionaires are continuing Leland Stanford's love affair with eugenics:
https://www.truthdig.com/dig-series/eugenics/
The fact that AI spam doesn't pay is important to the fortunes of AI companies. Most high-value AI applications are very risk-intolerant (self-driving cars, radiology analysis, etc). An AI tool might help a human perform these tasks more accurately – by warning them of things that they've missed – but that's not how AI will turn a profit. There's no market for AI that makes your workers cost more but makes them better at their jobs:
https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/
Plenty of people think that spam might be the elusive high-value, low-risk AI application. But that's just not true. The point of AI spam is to get clicks from people who are looking for better content. It's SEO. No one reads 2000 words of algorithm-pleasing LLM garbage over an omelette recipe and then subscribes to that site's feed.
And the omelette recipe generates pennies for the spammer that posted it. They are doing massive volume in order to make those pennies into dollars. You don't make money by posting one spam. If every spammer had to pay the actual recovery costs (energy, chillers, capital amortization, wages) for their query, every AI spam would lose (lots of) money.
Hustle culture and passive income are about turning other peoples' dollars into your dimes. It is a negative-sum activity, a net drain on society. Behind every seemingly successful "passive income" is a con artist who's getting rich by promising – but not delivering – that elusive passive income, and then blaming the victims for not hustling hard enough:
https://www.ftc.gov/business-guidance/blog/2023/12/blueprint-trouble
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I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week
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Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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tired-truffle ¡ 1 month ago
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A Night to Remember
A Viktorxfem!reader fic
Chapter Word Count: 2.8k
Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)
"It's obvious that something about her lights a fire in him. He looks alive when she's in his arms. Human like I've never seen him before. Like he's in love. And not only love, but beyond salvation." - Kenji Kishimoto
A/N: Viktor's POV from the dance in chapter 8 of the main fic: Můj Miláček.
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Masterlist
He’d already regretted coming to this ridiculous party and it hadn’t been more than a handful of minutes. Why he’d agreed to it he didn’t know - or at least, he pretended not to, unwilling to admit just how much your opinion swayed him. And where were you? Jayce had insisted Viktor arrive with him, as partners in Hextech, but had been quickly swept away by investors and Viktor had been left to mingle with people he did not have the energy to care about. Of course, there had been Miss Young, but he’d ruined that when immediately after greeting her, he’d inquired about your whereabouts. Perhaps he should have had a tad more tact, but the bright lights, loud music, and inane chatter had frayed his patience. 
And all he wanted was to be with you. 
He’d ended up excusing himself to the balcony, breathing deeply in the cool night air. But even that lacked the joy it once did, breath no longer coming as easy to him as it once did. He’d seen the simmering worry in your eyes, and despite years of preparing for it, he couldn’t help the terror that churned in his gut at the thought of leaving the world - not only before he’d been able to leave behind a proper legacy, but also of leaving you. 
How could he profess his love when he was no closer to curing his illness? It grated at his lungs, made his joints creak and ache more than they already did. Every day he got worse, and still, you shone like a beacon of hope in the dark. You believed he could beat it, figure out a solution, but time was running short, and there was so much he still wanted to do with you, show you, tell you. It wasn’t fair, that he loved you with such a burning ache, but he couldn’t get the words he needed to say past his lips, couldn’t stop his limbs from freezing up every time he thought of pulling you into a searing kiss. 
Would you forgive him or condemn him for keeping it from you? And if he told you now, would you hate him for waiting until the bitter end, pulling the rug out from underneath a love that had only just begun?
“Penny for your thoughts?” As if his dwelling had summoned you, your voice broke through his spiralling imagination. 
He turned, a retort poised on his lips, but it sailed away on the cool night breeze when his gaze fell upon you. 
You were…radiant, a goddess in billowing sheer curtains, the light from the party casting a golden halo around your head. Your gown flattered every curve, the light blue colour complimenting your natural complexion and bringing out the colour of your eyes - eyes he often found himself thinking of, longing to stare into for hours on end. The silver of your layered necklace had his eyes following the tantalizing column of your neck, before darting to your wrist, and finding immense satisfaction to see the bracelet he’d gifted you all those years ago lying there - as it always did. 
When he brought his gaze back up to meet yours, realizing he’d gone longer than was socially acceptable without responding to your inquiry, the light blush on your cheeks did not go unnoticed. 
“I’ve never heard of a penny, so how am I to know if it is worth my thoughts?” He leaned his elbows against the balcony railing, propping himself up in an attempt to look casual, and not like how he truly felt; undone by your beauty. 
Your eyes widened, your mouth forming into a small ‘O’. You pushed yourself off the doorframe, slowly making your way over to him as you mulled over his question. 
“I think it’s a form of currency from my world. It’s a common expression,” you said, your brow still furrowed as you seemed to reach for the memory attached to the saying. You pursed your lips, eyes downcast as it slipped from your grasp. It never ceased to frustrate you how little you could remember from your home world, and while Viktor couldn’t help you retrieve your memories, he could help distract you from the pain of your loss. 
Viktor scoffed, tilting his head to the side and pulling your attention back to him. “Then it’s of no use, seeing as I can’t be bought.”
You giggled as you stopped before him, a sound that never failed to ease the coil around Viktor’s heart. “Not one for dancing either, it seems,” you teased, your smile wide and gorgeous, as it always was, but there was something so captivating when it was directed only to him. 
He enjoyed this, the banter, the push and pull, and he was more than willing to indulge after a rather burdensome evening. “It’s not really my style. I am, however, very good at breakdancing.”
You smiled wider, and he couldn’t help but return it, just a fraction. 
“You’ll have to show me your moves one day.”
He would love to show you ‘his moves’ though preferably not with dancing. 
“Only if you close your eyes and promise no peaking.”
“Oh, I pinky promise.” He did not, by any stretch of the term, believe you.
“Dancing doesn’t have to be a series of crazy moves, you know.”
You poked his chest, barely more than a tap, but he had to resist the urge to catch your wrist and pull you against him. “Sometimes it’s just swaying, that’s all I know how to do anyways. If dancing was a thing in my world I don’t remember any of the steps.”
It was a shame, Viktor thought you’d make a beautiful dancer, if you learned the steps. Though, he also thought you could make anything beautiful, just because it was you, even if it was messy and uncoordinated. But he couldn’t let you know this, how deeply his affection ran for you. Though as his eyes traced the outline of your lips for what must have been the thousandth time, he couldn’t entirely recall why. 
“Eh, the cane tends to get in the way, and it’s difficult without it.” Excuses, plain and simple. What was the point in having a disability if he didn’t get to have at least some perks - like excusing himself from dancing in a crowded room with people he didn’t much care for. No one questioned the guy with a cane on why he didn’t want to dance. Except for you, that was. 
“Could you lean on me? Put your weight on my shoulders and I’ll hold you up at the waist.”
He…had not expected you to offer that. Perhaps he took too long to answer, still trying to figure out if he’d heard you correctly, as you fidgeted beneath the intensity of his stare. 
“I was doing a bunch of push-ups before I got here.” You rubbed your bracelet over your wrist, a motion to calm that he doubted you even noticed. “I can keep you steady and upright. A two-for-one deal.”
“So you were preemptively planning to ask me to dance?” He couldn’t help himself, not when it made your blush deeper - he loved the colour it added to your cheeks, making you look so…alive. 
“Are you going to keep asking questions, or are we going to do this?” 
But he couldn’t push you too far, at some point he’d have to give in or he’d chase you away, and that was the last thing he wanted. “I suppose I could give it a try.” He straightened, then added, “As a test, for science of course.”
“Of course.” You tried to stifle your laughter, but he wished you wouldn’t. “Anything for the sake of science.”
“You get it.”
It wasn’t that Viktor was a stranger to romantic pursuits, he knew he could be a charming man when he wanted to be. But with you, it was different. You stirred something within him that he couldn’t fully explain. So when faced with the prospect of doing something explicitly romantic with you, he found himself at a loss for how to begin. Luckily, when he thought he might falter, you gracefully took the lead, offering your hand as a bridge between the two of you.
“If you stand there like a statue, we’re never going to be able to dance,” you said, smiling softly. 
With a deep sigh, he rolled his shoulders back and accepted your outstretched hand. He didn’t necessarily need to lean on you, but with the way his knee had been acting up lately, he would likely regret it later if he didn’t - and you had offered after all. He wreathed his arms around your shoulders and you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his waist, stepping forward to allow your head to rest on his shoulder. 
Could you feel the back-brace through his clothes? It seemed likely, though he doubted you’d comment on it, much too polite, even if your curiosity was piqued.
Viktor inhaled deeply, your scent enveloping him like a warm embrace. It was a heady mix of florals and fresh laundry, comforting and clean. Your hair tickled his chin, soft strands that smelled of your citrus shampoo. He fought the urge to bury his nose in it, to breathe you in completely.
Your hands on his waist were firm yet gentle, supporting him without making him feel weak. He appreciated how perfectly you fit against him, like two pieces of a long-lost puzzle finally reunited.
“That’s not so bad, now is it,” you teased, your voice hoarse and sending a jolt through his heart. 
He laughed, louder than he would have had you been around others, but it was just the two of you on your private balcony, and he found himself letting go of his worries. “No, it’s not so bad, but I do believe that we are supposed to be opposite in terms of arm placements.”
You huffed a sharp breath. “I never much cared for gender roles, I’ll dance however I please.”
Ah, there was his willful Miláček, how he loved it when that side of you came out. 
He laughed again, tightening his arms and finding his fingers had started playing with the ends of your hair without his approval - and he allowed them to continue. “I am glad to hear it.”
As the music from the party drifted out onto the balcony, Viktor swayed gently with you, his body moving of its own accord. He marvelled at how easy it felt, how natural, to hold you close like this. Your warmth seeped into him, chasing away the ever-present chill that seemed to linger in his bones these days.
Viktor's mind, usually a whirlwind of calculations and theories, grew quiet. For once, he wasn't thinking about his next experiment or the looming deadline of his illness. Instead, he found himself lost in the small details of this moment: the way your fingers curled slightly against his back, the soft puff of your breath against his neck, the rise and fall of your chest against his.
As the music began to wind down, a bittersweet ache bloomed in his stomach. He wanted to freeze this moment, to live in it forever. Here, with you in his arms, he felt whole in a way he never had before.
He thought of all the times he'd pushed you away, afraid of burdening you with his feelings, his illness. Now, as the last notes of the song faded away, he wondered if he'd been a fool. Perhaps it wasn't too late. Perhaps there was still time to tell you, to show you how deeply he cared.
But as the silence stretched between them, broken only by the muffled sounds of the party inside, Viktor felt his courage waver. What if he was wrong? What if telling you changed everything, ruined the easy companionship you shared? Did you want to love a dying man? He tightened his arms around you, just a fraction, savouring those last moments before reality intruded once more.
When you stepped back, he had to stop himself from reaching for you and pulling you back into his arms - where he yearned to have you at all times. But, whether accidental or purposeful, you stopped short, leaving less than an inch of space between you. Your lips parted as your eyes met, your breaths mingling. His hand drifted to your cheek, the other remaining on your shoulder for support - though not entirely due to his leg, but rather from the lightheadedness that came from your close proximity. 
Your eyes darted to his lips and his heart beat in his throat. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, but all he wanted was to close the remaining distance and kiss you until he could no longer breathe. It would be so easy, you were standing right there, held so close, so open and—
A series of sharp popping noises to his right had you turning away from him with a gasp, eyes wide with concern. He took a minute to collect himself, but his eyes fluttered closed as your grip on his waist tightened. 
He cleared his throat, stepping back and out of your grasp. He couldn’t think straight with you holding him like that, and with the moment interrupted, he needed space - even if he didn’t want it. With that space, he was finally able to focus on the source of the popping. Gorgeous wine-red roses bloomed on the balcony railing, and a trailing vine wound its way around them, as if purposefully placed for added beauty. It was stunning, but he found himself more captivated by the light blush that had returned to your cheeks. 
He could see the flash of disappointment cross your face as you realized that he’d stepped back, but you were quick to cover it with a nervous giggle and a quietly muttered, “Oops.”
“Thank you for the dance, Milá,” he said, chuckling to try to put your nerves at ease. He nodded towards the balcony railing. “And the flowers.”
You smiled with sheepish contrition. “Someone’s going to be very confused when they clean up.”
“I’m sure they cleaned much worse.”
You giggled and the musical sound had his stomach fluttering. Gods, the things you did to him. 
“I’m going to head back in, I should probably make more of an appearance,” you said, shuffling your feet. “But I’d love to see you back in there.”
Viktor leaned back against the railing, a smirk slanted across his lips. “Potentially. The refreshments were rather delicious, I will have to go back for more.” 
A lie, he hadn’t a clue what the refreshments were like, he hadn’t accepted a single one - but the joke was worth it to get you to laugh again. You spun around, ready to rejoin the party and leave him to his thoughts once more. But his mouth moved of its own accord.
“Wait,” he called, and when you turned back, the light from inside once again lit up around your head like a halo. Divine and radiant and— “You look beautiful tonight, Miláček.”
You blushed, the red running down your neck and disappearing into your gown. Your hands twisted together, anxious in your attempt to accept the compliment with grace. 
“Thank you, Viktor.” You ducked your head, softening your response. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Though you’d tried to hide your cringe, he saw it. His beautiful, terribly awkward, Miláček. He wouldn’t have you any other way. 
With one more deeply bashful glance, you all but fled back into the party, disappearing into the throngs of people. 
He turned back to the balcony, running his fingers over the soft petals of the roses you'd inadvertently conjured. The night air felt colder now without your warmth.
His mind replayed every moment of your dance, analyzing each touch, each look, each word. Had he imagined the longing in your eyes? The way you'd leaned into him, as if you never wanted to let go?
He sighed, his breath visible in the cool night air. The city of Piltover sprawled out before him, a glittering tapestry of lights and innovation. Normally, the sight would fill him with excitement, ideas for new inventions sparking in his mind. But tonight, all he could think about was you.
Viktor's fingers absently traced the outline of his cane. He thought of how easily you'd offered to support him, how natural it had felt to lean on you. You never made him feel weak or broken, even on his worst days.
The roses caught his eye again, their deep red colour and full petals standing out against the pale stone railing. They were beautiful, unexpected, just like you. Viktor plucked one carefully, mindful of the thorns. He tucked it into his breast pocket, a secret reminder of this night, of you.
He was in too deep, too attached to do anything but love you. And one day, once he figured out how to cure his illness, he would tell you how he felt. 
Next One-Shot
A/N: In these trying times, may I present this?
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aspiringwarriorlibrarian ¡ 1 year ago
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You know with the latest episode focusing on how people think that Superman is too powerful to be trusted, that someone who can do what he can can't possibly just want to help people, it hits me how many of the antagonists think that because they're people who have a disproportionate amount of power, abuse it, and refuse to admit that.
The General spends his entire screen time surrounded by people he can either electrocute at will or who have to answer to him. He's threatened by Superman because Superman is someone he can't do that to. He was threatened by CADMUS because they had power but weren't obeying him. But he's always framing himself as the underdog, framing his actions as necessary, as "the hard call". He's arguably the most powerful character in the setting but he's always focusing on what he can't control and how to bring that under control, using force.
Ivo is a businessman with wealth and tech and the ability to wipe out his competitors without suffering legal consequences, but all he focuses on is what he doesn't have, and when the chips are down he resorts to, you guessed it, brute force to try and make them to do what he wants. First with burning his competitors, next with bulldozing homes using his crime connections, next with throwing Clark out when he doesn't play along, and finally with the Parasite suit to both force his investors to do what he wants and gain control over Superman.
Vicki is not a villainous example because she doesn't use violence to get her way, but she does have a degree of social and institutional power thanks to her position as a prestigious journalist. She's used that power to topple people who are considerably stronger than her, including crime families and corporations But she still isn't secure, she still wants more, and when Lois calls her for lying she says that she has to do these things to remain on top. All power, no responsibility for it.
They all have power, and yet all they think about is the power they don't have and how to get it. So of course they can't understand that he's just here to help. When you've spent your whole life scrabbling for power against other people who think the same, it's hard to believe that some people wouldn't care about that at all.
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ivysprophecy ¡ 21 days ago
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Am I Okay? Chapter Three
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a/n: hi again! if you havent guessed already this chapter is going to include the gala i mentioned in part twelve! (which is linked) now as author im going to state clearly that this is not their first date 'canonically', however, its what i MYSELF consider their first date. <3
warnings: i dont think there are any, but i did add a little somethin somethin at the end ;) and i should mention this ones gonna be in rafes pov ;) im in no way saying that rafe is my character
word count: 1241
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this shouldnt feel as daunting as it does right now. shes just a friend. its just a dinner party, theres no commitments attached or technicalities to worry over.
its just me and her making a boring evening more exciting.
thats all.
i knock on the door and wait patiently for her to answer. i did come a bit early so i wouldnt be surprised if she was still getting ready.
she has a tendency to get swept up in the music shes listening to when shes at her vanity.
but as soon as she opens that door and i turn to see her... i suddenly forget all the convincing was doing.
cause i know after tonight theres gonna be no more hiding just how into her i am. she looks incredible.
it does something to me knowing its the dress i bought her.
"hi," thats all she says and i swear i forgot how to breathe. how does she do this to me?
"hey," my smile widens, "you look... gorgeous. really you look great."
"cant take all the credit, the dress was all your doing. im just wearing it."
"and you wear it beautifully," just like that, a natural blush replaces the artificial pink on her cheeks "we should get going, are you ready or do you need more time? i can wait."
"i think im ready..." she searches through her purse, going over its contents making sure she has everything. "yep, im ready."
"perfect," i close the door behind her as she walks out, "its a little jarring to see you without your boots."
she chuckles as i open the car door for her, "i tried to clean up as nice as i could."
"you clean up just fine cowgirl," i cant hide my smile.
the drive to the event was that comfortable kind of quiet. i always let her take aux when we drive together. country music definitely isnt my favorite but she could play a lot worse.
besides she throws in the occasional kid cudi or metro boomin for me.
shes thoughtful like that.
"oh theres valet? how fancy," the valet opens her door for her before i can even get out of the car. i suppose thats his job.
"thats kinda how these things go. theyre a bit much."
"well i think its refreshing being so spoiled. dads done a lot of fancy business but nothing like this. its fun."
taking her hand, i lead her up the stairs into the building, "ill spoil you as much as you want cowgirl."
"youre such a sweet talker city boy. for someone who, supposedly, is a serial bachelor youre a total flirt."
"nah, i only flirt with you," i tell her, truthfully. part of me said it to see her all flustered but really there isnt a point in lying about it.
i know everyones got me figured out already, the guys and their girls are better gossipers than the real housewives. not that id know anything about the real housewives. i definitely dont watch that shit.
"thats exactly what im talking about," shes giggling as we walk into the giant room filled to the brim with investors, partners, staff, clients, a bunch of people i really want to avoid. i was about to lead her over to the bar when we run into someone conveniently.
her father. that i work with. awesome.
"cameron! thought i wouldnt be able to catch you tonig- y/n? pumpkin what are you doing here?"
"dad! were in public can you maybe not call me that-"
i let a smile peak through, "pumpkin?" its just too easy to tease her.
"rafe," she sends me a warning, and you know she means business when she uses my "government name" as she likes to call it.
i throw my hands up in defense jokingly.
"its good to see you y/l/n," i reach out to shake her dads hand, "i invited her, hoping a friendly face would make the night more barrable. i hope thats alright with you."
"nah its good for her. she needs to get out more. i trust youll take care of her."
"dad!" she raises her tone while keeping a hushed voice, "dont talk about me like im not here. please."
"you kids have fun tonight," her dad wraps an arm around her before pressing a small kiss to her temple before shaking my hand again, "good to see you rafe. take care of my little girl."
i nod with a smile as he walks away, heading over to a table of some other clients i recognize.
"unbelievable! rafe im so sorry that was embarrassing. he doesnt know how to act normal. i shouldnt let him out of the house. i need to put him in a home."
"cowgirl, youre rambling. its fine, i get it. hes a dad its his job to embarrass you a little."
she rolls her eyes leading the way back to the bar like we intended in the first place. leaning against the bar she tells the bartender her order and mine, already knowing id like a whiskey.
how am i not supposed to like this girl so much when she knows me so well? i dont care if we come from two completely different backgrounds. a part of me knows this is the girl for me.
taking our drinks i lead her over to our table for the night, pulling out her seat for her to sit when suddenly i see some investors walking my way.
i knew id have to work a little tonight but it doesnt stop me being disappointed from being pulled away from her.
the night goes on, i introduce her to a few of the people i know better than others, but i give her the chance to mingle when she wants too. shes so well spoken and holds her own well.
shes mesmerizing.
at one point i return from the restroom, and when i come back i see that after i stepped away one of the investors sons is making conversation with her.
hes far too close to her for my liking, touching her arm subtly, desperately trying to make her laugh. but i can see shes only doing it to be polite.
i step up right beside her, my hand naturally falling to the small of her back. innocently of course.
"jared! good to see you man, your dad let you come?"
theres nothing i love to see more than his confidence faulter. he needed to be put in his place, what can i say?
im just happy i was the one to get to do it.
"yea... yea he did. it was good seeing you rafe. nice meeting you...?" he smiled in her direction, asking for one more chance silently, i couldnt contain my laughter.
"have a nice night jared. tell your dad ill see him at mondays meeting," and with that i lead her away in the direction of our table.
"you didnt have to be so rude to him you know?"
"cowgirl, that was hardly rude of me. i was doing him a favor."
she plasters on an offended face, pretending to clutch her pearls, "how dare you, im a catch. hed be so lucky to have me, and so would you."
god, shes such a tease.
believe me gorgeous. i know id be so lucky to have you. its all i think about.
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jazzthatonewriterchick ¡ 1 year ago
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Hi!! i love your stories and was wondering if you do requests? if not im so sorry to bother you!!!!! and if you do than would it be ok if you could do a bull kiri and bull baku x heifer y/n? again if not im so sorry and hope you have a good day!!
In the Fruit Orchard (Bull!KiriBaku x Heifer!Reader) [REQUEST FILL] 
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Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Ejirou Kirishima x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: In which you, a heifer girl, get a night with the hottest bull boys on Aizawa's farm after a trip through the fruit orchard.
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Animal Hybrid!KiriBaku; Animal Hybrid!Reader; Reader is Fem; Mild Sexual Harassment; Reader Makes First Move; Consensual; Foreplay; Mentions of Milk; Breeding Kink; Deepthroating; Facefucking; Praise; Missionary; Doggystyle; Creampie Kink; Cum on Body; Aftercare; Cuddle Pile
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: I got this request a few days ago & had to give it a try. I hope you like it! -Jazz 💋💋
**********
They were the finest bulls on Shouta Aizawa’s farm. 
And this wasn’t just something said between the farm animal hybrids that roamed the 300 acres. Any time Aizawa had any guests over at his farm, such as fellow farmers, investors looking to buy the farm (which usually never happened) and visitors who took advantage of the farmer’s market he threw every spring, they always made a point to comment on the two bulls. 
“They’re so big and strong!” they’d say, watching in awe as one would toss several bails of hay while the other sharpened their horns on a nearby tree. Usually, every cow on the farm would be staring too, teeming with adoration for the two. “That’s why they’re here,” Aizawa would always say. “Nobody can handle those two but me.” 
And that was the damn truth. There was no one that could handle the brute force, cockiness, or hot-headedness of the bull duo. They first came to the farm two years ago.
Apparently, Aizawa and his husband, Hizashi Yamada, had saved the two from an abusive animal ring where they were forced to fight other bulls. You weren’t there when they arrived at the farm, but from overhearing from your friends, they were coated in bruises, scars, and starved. Katsuki and Ejiro – or “Kiri” – they were named. Since their arrival, they’ve been celebrities on the farm. 
You came to Aizawa’s farm last spring after your last owner died. You’ve enjoyed the rolling fields, endless apple trees, and comfortable pens ever since…but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy Katsuki and Kiri more. You’ll admit the first time you saw them, you were intimidated.
They were big, buff, and beautiful. Similar to centaurs, their upper halves were nothing but rippling muscle, from their thick pectorals right down to their rock-hard abs, while their bottom halves were of a bull––nothing but fine, dark hair covering thick muscles right down to their calves, thighs, and two hoofed feet. They always walked around with their bull rings glinting in the sunlight and steam protruding from their nostrils as they worked, sweat dripping down their skin in the hot sun. 
You never talked to them before. You were more than happy to just watch. You weren’t sure you’d even know what to say to them. You’d probably trip over your words and feel too intimidated because of how big they were and how they towered over your small frame, no matter your size or shape. You imagined that this is why so many cows and heifers loved them so.
It wasn’t private knowledge that Katsuki and Kiri were a hit with the ladies. You’d catch them watching the bull duo with heart eyes all the time along the wooden gates where the cows were separated from the bulls. If they never watched, you’d hear them gossip about the two all day and night, whether during breakfast or at night in your pens. “God, they’re just so fucking hot!” they’d dreamily sigh. “I wish I could have one of them for my own.” 
“Please, I’d take both of them,” another would chuckle. “They’re too sexy to choose just one. If I wasn’t already mated, I’d have them both give me their babies.” The lady cows would laugh while you’d just lay in your fluffy bed in your pen, your best friend and fellow lady cow Mina lying beside you. She’d turn to you in the late night when the pens were finally silent, her golden eyes glowing in the dark. “You’re always so quiet when the girls gossip about those two,” she’d whisper.
You’d shrug, staring up at the starry sky through the window-like hole above your pen. “Because I’m not interested in talking about those two like they’re pieces of meat,” you’d grumble. “Sure, they’re attractive, but it’s not necessary or appropriate.” 
“Fair point,” Mina said, “but come on, you’ve gotta admit that they’re hot as fuck.” She’d smirk at you with her pink lips and snout as she rubbed her big belly that she got from Denki, one of the male cows here. “I would go for Kiri, personally. He’s such a sweetheart. What about you, Y/N? Who'd you go for?” 
You just told her neither and went off to sleep as she giggled beside you, knowing you were full of shit. The truth was you’d choose both of them. You loved how sweet and friendly Kiri was, his bright smile and red locks always filling you up with warmth whenever you’d see him grazing or soaking up the sun in the mornings. But you also were attracted to Katsuki’s gruffness and how aggressive he got to anyone or anything that threatened his home. He once nearly pummeled a crooked investor who wanted to steal Aizawa’s farm from him, prompting the guy to never come back. 
You couldn’t deny the butterflies they gave you whenever you’d see or hear those raspy, deep voices that filled your dreams every night. You knew you had a deep crush, but you weren’t sure if you wanted them to be with you completely.
That is, to breed you. You were the only heifer on the farm so it was quite intimidating and alienating to be the only female cow who wasn’t pregnant, didn’t have babies, or wasn’t with another cow or bull. Plus, you weren't even sure you wanted someone like Katsuki and Kiri. You’d prefer someone who wasn’t on every cow’s mind and perhaps in every cow’s pen at night. 
That all changed the night Aizawa and Hizashi went out of town for the weekend. It was for their 7th-year anniversary and they would be gone until Monday morning. They told you all about it when they gathered the farm animals for a group meeting the beginning of that week during breakfast. “We’re going away!” Hizashi proudly announced. “To celebrate seven years of our amazing relationship!” 
Aizawa blushed when his husband leaned his head on his shoulder, slipping an arm around his waist. “When we’re gone, every single one of you will be on your best behavior,” he sternly said. “I’ll keep the house locked up, but the farm will still be open for visits from the public. Anyone tries to break in, the bulls know what to do. Otherwise, just be good and don’t make a mess.” 
Make a mess, the animals didn’t. But being good? That rule was never going to be respected.
After your owners left Friday night, Saturday night was as wild as one could get on a farm. A party was thrown in the barn house where music, dunking for apples, and drinking from the secret whiskey stash Aizawa stored away all took place. You initially didn’t want to go, but Mina talked you into it. “When are we ever gonna get a weekend where the farmers aren’t here?” she groaned. “C’mon, just for an hour!” 
You begrudgingly agreed though an hour turned into about three insufferable ones. You sat in the dimly-lit barn on one of the hay bails as a stool, watching as Mina danced with Denki and drank her fill of beer. The party was still in full swing, noise and hollering of the animals all around you that made you very uncomfortable. You sat stiffly with your cow-like legs together, your human hands in your lap. You did have to admit that you looked nice in your flowery sundress that Mina forced you to wear. You were secretly hoping to run into Katsuki and Kiri tonight, but so far, you haven’t seen them. 
You sighed, sipping on your iced tea mixed with a bit of whiskey. You wanted nothing more than to leave this place. “Hey, Y/N!” a faintly familiar voice shouted to you. You turned, finding Shindo waving at you as he made is way over to you on his powerful legs with a swing of his tail. He was one of the most beautiful horses you’ve ever seen with the finest black hair along his bottom half like on his head. His top half was just as pretty––nothing but lean muscle and the prettiest, green eyes you’ve ever seen. 
But not as pretty as Katsuki and Kiri. “Oh, hey, Shindo,” you giggle. “I haven’t seen you all night.” Shindo's tail swayed giddily as he looked down at you. “The other horses and I were down by the lake to cool off,” he explains. “It’s a real nice night. You should come out with me for a walk.” 
You blinked up at him, wondering if he was serious. “You’re asking me?” you questioned. No hybrid, especially a male, had ever asked to d anything with them before. “Yeah!” he laughed. “I was just goin’ down the trail to check out the apple trees and I don’t mind your company. Plus, you don’t seem like you’re enjoying the party too much. How come you aren’t dancing?” His smile grew, playfully so. 
You flushed, toying with the hem of your sundress. “I don’t really dance in these types of settings,” you sheepishly laughed. “Too many drunk shenanigans.” As if on cue, one of the cows––that being Sero—flew down the staircase leading up to the upper floor, crashing into one of the wooden tables. 
“Fair point,” Shindo chuckled. “C’mon, maybe we can get some before the drunk crowd does.” He put his hand out for yours, patiently waiting for your answer. 
You looked down at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. What if someone saw you leave with him and got the wrong idea? What if Katsuki and Kiri saw? ‘Who cares what they think?’ your voice of reason hissed. ‘You’re not even mated to them! They probably don’t even know you exist!’ 
“Okay,” you finally giggled. “Why not?” You put you hand in Shindo’s and let him lead you away from the barn and into the summer night. 
Once away from the barn, the night was quiet and peaceful. Only the buzz of insects, the hooting of a nearby owl, and your and Shindo’s hooves clicking across the path could be heard as you both walked along the dirt paths to the apple orchards, all planted by Hizashi. You often went here to relax and enjoy the quiet for a while on warm, sunny days. Shindo suddenly stopped and pointed at the dozens of apple trees in the twilight with the reddest, ripest apples hanging from their branches. “Here, they go!” He exclaims excitedly. 
He skipped over to one of the trees and you followed, giggling. He stopped at one and picked an apple, immediately chomping into it. His eyes close, taken aback by the taste. “Mmm, that’s good. Grab one for yourself.”
You did so, walking up beside him to grab an apple. You bit into it immediately, loving the sound of your teeth chomping along the crisp, juicy flesh. “Wow, this is good,” you hummed. As you ate, the summer breeze caressed your skin and hair, making the apple trees sway. “And it is a nice night,” you sighed, closing your eyes against the breeze. You felt so good. So peaceful. 
When you opened your eyes, you found Shindo starting at you. There was a strange, almost intimate look in them that you couldn’t quite make sense of. “You look beautiful tonight,” he commented. You snorted as a natural reaction, shaking your head at his words. “Really! But I’m sure your mate tells you that all of the time, right?” 
As he flashed a white-toothed smile at you, our heart sank into your stomach. “Uh, no,” you confessed, looking down at your apple. “I-I don’t have a mate. I’m still a heifer.” Even saying it, you felt pathetic. While it was nothing to be ashamed about and you knew you didn’t want any kids right now, you looked around at so many of the girl cows on the farm and wanted what they had: a mate. 
“Seriously?” Shindo asked, shocked. “How’s that possible? You’re so cute!” You flushed at his compliment, looking off into the night. “It just never happened, I guess.” 
“So you’re not with that bull duo all the cows seem to love?” Shindo asked. The farm is sayin’ they’ve got a thing for you.” You stared at him, wide-eyed, your heart pummeling in your chest. “W-What?” you dumbly asked. There is no way that is true. It can’t be. Shindo shook his head, tossing the apple aside. “That’s too bad,” he tutted, “because I’ve got a thing for you, too. I’ve had it for a while now, to tell you the truth.” 
Your eyes bugged out of your skull. “What?” you asked once again, louder this time. Shindo didn’t speak as he began to slowly walk toward you, a sensual look in his forest-green eyes. You began to walk backward, squeaking when you slammed against a tree. “Wait, Shindo…how would this even work? Y-You’re a horse!” 
Shindo just laughed as he drew nearer to you, putting his big hands on your waist. “Interspecies relationships happen a lot around here,” he chuckled. “Didn’t you know?”
His fingers began to slowly slip down to your dress, creeping up above it to lie on your bare fur. “I can treat you way better than those bonehead bulls, Y/N,” he whispered. “You know it, deep down.” He began to lean in for a kiss and you put your hands out to stop him, laying them flat against his bare chest. “Wait, Shindo,” you protested. “I-I don’t even know you that well. We shouldn’t–“ 
“I think she’s telling you no, horse face,” a raspy, familiar voice growled from beyond the trees. Shindo stopped, glaring into the darkness.
Standing there at the end of the path was Katsuki, fists balled up at his sides and steam billowing from his nostrils like in a cartoon. You heart flipped at the sight of him. “You?” Shindo scoffed, smirking at him. “What, you saw me with her and decided to make a move? You’re just too slow, ‘Suki.” 
“Wrong answer,” another raspy yet slightly higher voice said. From behind Katsuki outstepped Kiri, equally as intimidating with his long, red hair and crimson eyes. “We saw her with you, yes, but we’re not here to ‘make a move’. We’re here to stop you from takin’ advantage of this girl when she clearly isn’t interested and then ghosting her like you did to the horse girls on your old farm.” He tapped a finger against his chin, thinking. “And a few heifer girls too, if I’m not mistaken.” 
Shindo visibly gulped, realizing he’d been caught, while you stare at him in awe and rage. Did he see you as just that? A poor, lonely heifer to take advantage of? 
Katsuki stepped closer, his hooves stomping against the ground. “You need to leave her alone,” he growled. “Tonight and after tonight. If I catch you tryna make a move on her again, you better believe these hooves are goin’ straight into your head.” Shindo was visibly intimidated, but he still tried to play like he wasn’t. “Is that a threat?” he whispered. 
Kiri stepped beside Katsuki, crossing his arms over his buff chest. “That's a promise, horse face,” Katsuki simmered. “Now get out of here unless you want me to fulfill that promise right now.” Shindo looked between them and you, weighing his options. Then, with a huff and a swish of his tail, he turned around and galloped up the trail back toward the barn. 
You relaxed against the tree, glad to be away from him. “You alright, Y/N?” Kiri worriedly asked.
You immediately stood up straight, realizing you were here with the farm’s favorite bulls, alone, in the apple orchard. Other than that, you also realized that Kiri said you name. They know your name. You cleared your throat, recovering. “Yeah,” you exhaled, dusting off your dress. “Thanks, but I could’ve handled that myself.” The two chuckled, the deep rumble of their laughter making your stomach flip. “Never said you couldn’t,” Kiri replied. 
“You ain’t the only cow girl he’s tried to hit on here, y’know,” Katsuki added as he ripped off an apple from a branch above him. “He’s known for being a player and with you being a heifer, that only made it worse.” He bit into the apple, taking a big chunk out of the juicy flesh. “You should be more careful. Farm or not, you’ve got some creeps lurking around here.” 
Kiri elbowed him, stomping his hoof. “Don’t scare her, Katsuki,” he hissed before giving you a reassuring smile. “He’s just being dramatic, cutie. Only thing you need to worry about is not ruining that pretty dress of yours.” You flushed at his words, not used to receiving such compliments, whether blatantly flirtatious or not. “Well, we’ve taken up more of your night, so we’re gonna head off.” 
They began to walk off up the path, passing by you as they did. “You’re going back to the party?” you blurted.
Kiri shook his head. “Nah, not our style. Plus, it’s too nice of a night to be cooped up in a barn.” They turned around and began to leave you again like none of tonight ever happened. You found yourself wanting them to stay for a while, especially after that scare with Shindo.
“W-Well, if you want, I was gonna take a walk down the trails here,” you shyly said, piquing their interest. “You two are welcomed to join me, if you want.” 
The bulls turned toward you, looking shocked that you even said anything. But then they each cracked a smile that knocked the air out of you. “A walk, huh?” Kiri chuckled. “We happen to know about some other treats down there the way the others don’t know about. But you can’t tell anyone.” 
You nodded, signaling your silence. “Then let’s quit standin’ here and go,” Katsuki growled, already making his way down the trail though he stopped to wait for you to catch up. The three of you then begin to walk along the dirt trail, taking your sweet time among the summer air. “So you came last spring, right?” Kiri asked. “What was your other farm like, if you don’t mind me asking?” 
There, while walking through the apple orchard, you talk to each other. You tell them all about your  old farm and its beautiful daisy fields until your owner passed from their disease. They told you all about their past too, sparing you any sad details. You also talked about other things you liked and enjoyed, like spending your past time swimming by the lake on the hottest days of the summer and playfully arguing over snow (Katsuki hated the cold). With every conversation topic, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable with them. 
Finally, you three reached the fruit orchard that was blocked by a couple of thorn bushes. Kiri pushed back a couple bushes to clear a path for you, revealing dozens of trees and bushes carrying delicious fruit. “Aaand here we are,” he chuckled. You gasped, your eyes widening at the delicacies that surrounded you. You began to totter through the fruit orchard, ogling at the peaches, mulberries, and… “Blueberries bushes?!” you squealed, gaping at the two bulls who watched you in adoration. 
“And strawberry ones too,” Kiri added, picking a ripe, red strawberry from a bush. All for the picking. Some of the others know about this place, but are too afraid to come down ‘cause it’s too close to the road.” He picked another strawberry and plopped it Help yourself, cutie.” Flushing again from the pet name and his fingers brushing against yours, you took the berry and bit out of it. As soon as the sweet juice hit your tongue, you were in heaven. “Good, isn’t it?” he snickered, watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, wondering how the strawberries got so sweet. “Mmm-hmm,” you hummed. 
You turned to Katsuki as you chewed on the rest of the berry, finding him chomping on a handful of blueberries he picked. When he turned to you, you started giggle at the sight of blueberry juice all over his mouth. “What?” he growled. 
Kiri began to laugh too, holding his stomach. “You’ve got some blueberry juice on your lip,” you giggled, pointing at your own mouth. Katsuki’s face turned a stark red as he went to wipe the juice off…but then he stopped. A crooked, mischievous smile suddenly pulled onto his lips. “Well, you gonna get it off for me?” he asked, obviously joking. 
You didn’t know if it’s the full moon, the fruit, or the whiskey you drank earlier, but you were suddenly flooded with confidence that made you slowly walk over to him. His smile faded as you did, wondering what you were up to. You shocked both them and yourself when you reached out to slide your thumb across his lip and suck on the juice from the digit. Katsuki stared at you for a moment, silent. It was enough to make reality kick in for you.
“Sorry!” you gasped. “I-I don’t know why I did that! I-I…” You paused, feeling humiliating overcome you. “I…I need to leave.” 
You began to turn around and quickly run up the trail, but Katsuki stopped you with a hand on your wrist. His eyes were fierce and intense like a raging, hot fire. “No,” he growled. “You finish what you fuckin’ started.” Before you could take a breath, he was yanking you toward him and pressing a rough, passionate kiss to your lips. His lips were soft and tasted sweet and tarty from the blueberries. One of his hands, rough from years of farm work, pressed against your cheek to deepen the kiss, the feeling of his touch making you dizzy. 
You pulled away with a soft gasp when you suddenly felt Kiri push against you, feeling his muscles through his thin V-neck. His hands roamed over your hips while Katsuki busily kissed and sucked on your neck, no doubt trying to give you hickies. Your eyes fluttered at their ministrations, the feeling of them everywhere around you heaven.
“We didn’t wanna say anything after Shindo earlier, but we could never deny how cute you were,” Kiri whispered. His hands trailed up your arms to your spaghetti straps. He pulled one down to kiss your neck, his kisses sweet and less harsh than Katsuki’s. “We’ve wanted you for so long,” he groaned. “We always knew you were the one, but we never wanted to push you. If you want this, we’ll do anything you want from your command, sweetie.” 
He paused his movements just as Katsuki did, his crimson eyes looking into yours. Neither one of them moved, wanting your permission before proceeding. The ball was completely in your court, and unbeknownst to them, you were ready to give them their winning score. You then turned your head to press your lips feverishly against Kiri’s, earning a moan of surprise. When you pulled away, his shocked eyes stared into yours, as gorgeous as the full moon above. “Yes,” you exhaled. “Take me. I want the both of you, too.” 
Joyful smiles curled onto Kiri and Katsuki’s lips. Before you could even breathe, you were suddenly out of your dress, completely naked in the silver moonlight. For a while, the duo played with your breasts, kneeling down to suckle and lick against the hardened peaks of your nipples. You moaned and whimpered to the moon, only that, the stars, and the trees witness to your activity. You knew that eyes could be anywhere––from the passing cars on the street beyond the wooden fence; coming down the trail from the barn party––but you found yourself not caring. Truthfully, the idea of being caught with the hottest bull duo on the farm turned you on even more. Your fantasies got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were suddenly on your knees with Kiri and Katsuki standing over you. Both of them stripped off their shirts and pants, leaving themselves completely naked. Your eyes eagerly drank them in. You didn’t know where to look––at their gorgeous bodies illuminated by the moonlight or their big, fat, thick, veiny bull cocks hanging in front of you. 
“Well?” Katsuki asked, raising a brow down at you. “You gonna put ‘em in your mouth or just stare at ‘em?” You didn’t need to be told twice. You started with Kiri’s cock first, popping him into your mouth while you eagerly stroked Katsuki, the pre-cum dripping down his cock making for some great lube. Then you switched, alternating between each of them with all the eagerness of a good little heifer slut despite how much your jaw ached. They were huge! However, the duo’s soft moans and grunts of pleasure egged you on, making you stroke a little harder and hollow your cheek out more. 
Kiri adoringly stared down at you, watching you take Katsuki’s cock in your mouth. “You’re so cute, sweetie,” he breathlessly chuckled. “Look at you takin’ both of our cocks like a good little heifer girl.” Katsuki moaned in agreement, his crimson eyes blown with lust as he ogled down at you. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” he grunted. “Havin’ us all to yourself.” 
His hips began to slowly rock into your mouth, causing his fur to brush against your face and his heavy balls to hit your chin. You moaned around his cock, your jaw and hand burning from the constant work you were doing.
“Mmmm!” you replied. That was code for “hell yes, I confess”.
To make it clear, you opened your throat for him, allowing him to thrust into your mouth a little deeper. When you felt his cock nearly hit the back of your throat, you gagged. He grunted loudly as one hand moved to grip your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good!” he groaned. “I’ve thought about fucking it so many times.” 
Kiri snickered as he began thrusting into your hand, wet and sloppy with saliva and pre. “So much for romance, but even I’ve thought about that too,” he breathlessly confessed. "Guilty as charged. And she looks way more beautiful in real life than in my dreams.” Katsuki suddenly pulled his cock out of your mouth with a moan, his shaft wet with your spit. You gasped and caught your breath, your body hot and pussy wet. 
Kiri stooped down to press a kiss to your forehead, his hand caressing your sweaty cheek. ”Think you can take us deeper, cutie?” he asked. You slowly nodded, your head dizzy and slightly winded. Though your jaw ached, you didn’t want to stop. You wanted to please them. “One at a time, now. And let us know if you need a break or if you wanna stop. Just give us a tap.” The redhead hybrid demonstrated, tapping his own thigh three times. 
Then Kiri was sticking his cock in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. “Fuuuck,” he moaned, beginning to roll his hips into your hot, wet mouth. You gagged and sputtered around him, your pussy throbbing in time with his dick in your throat. “Mmm, like that,” he moaned. “So. Fucking. Good.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust that has your throat squeezing around him and your jaw begging for relief. Katsuki thankfully gave your hands a rest, opting for just jerking off to the sight of you taking Kiri.
Then Katsuki was next. His thrusts were rougher and faster as he fucked your throat, urging you to take him deeper down your throat until all you could taste and smell was him. “Yeah, just like that,” he urged, his grip on your hair tightening. “Deeper, sweet pea. Take me deeper!” You did so, whimpering as you expanded your throat as if to yawn to the best of your ability while he was still plunged in it. He looked down at you adoringly, the sight of it like a piece of heaven to you. “Good girl,” he moaned. 
At this, you gushed all over yourself as you hugged your thighs tight against each other. Kiri noticed, stroking his cock to the sight of you on your knees with dick deep in your throat. “Ooooh, I think someone likes being called a good girl,” he chuckled. You suddenly felt his hand creep down between your thighs and moaned around Katsuki’s bull dick as they brushed against your sobbing, wet heifer pussy. “You’re leaking all over, cutie,” he tutted. “That just won’t do. All of that milk has to go somewhere.” 
Katsuki took his cock out of your throat, ready for what was coming next. You took a deep breath and recovered, spit all over your mouth and chin. Kiri bent down to kiss you, never mind that you just had another cock in it. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected to your bottom lips. “Can we taste you, cutie?” he whispered against your lips. “And we’ll take turns.” He smirked up at Katsuki who looked ready to devour you. 
You slowly nodded, your body begging for release. “Y-Yes, please,” you weakly replied. In the blink of an eye, you were sitting with your back against Kiri’s chest and Katsuki’s face stuffed in your pussy, your furry legs hooked over his muscular back. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you cried out, not at all afraid if anyone or anything might hear. You wanted them to. 
Katsuki hummed appreciatively as he slurped eagerly at your cunt, his long tongue sliding in and out of your tight hole. “There’s so much here for me, sweet pea,” he huffed. “You’ve been wantin’ this too, haven’t you? You wanted this big tongue fucking your pretty pussy?” He continued on, alternating between sliding his tongue inside of you and up to your clit, sucking on it generously. You whined and squirmed against his mouth, not knowing which way was up and which was down. 
Kiri slid his hands to your chest, proceeding to pinch and tweak your hard nipples. “Answer him, cutie,” he teased. “You may look hot squirming around like that, but that ain’t an answer he wants.” He pinched one of your nipples a little too hard, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to mingle and shoot within you. “Yes!” You whimpered. “I thought about this! I wanted this for so long!” 
Kiri smirked, pecking your lips. “Good answer,” he praised. “Make her cum, Kats. I want this cute little heifer seein’ stars.” Katsuki’s crimson eyes peeked through the V of your thighs as his tongue thrashed against your pussy, pushing you over the edge. Your back arched and your voice rang out in the orchard, into the night. ”Cum for me!” Katsuki demanded. "Cum all over my tongue. Do it now!”
And like a good little heifer, you did. Your first orgasm of the night ripped through you, waves of bliss washing over your body as you came all over Katsuki's eager lips and tongue. Finally, he drew back and hungrily stared at you, his mouth shining with your juices. "Now it’s my turn, Kiri announced. 
The two switched so now Katsuki was behind you while Kiri eagerly ate your sensitive cunt, moving at a slower pace than Katsuki due to you just cumming. But you didn’t need it slow. You needed it faster. You needed to get to that second climax. “Faster!” you begged. “Please, Kiri, go faster!” The redhead obliged, moaning appreciatively into your pussy as his jaw worked like it was overtime. Your hand threaded through his red locks while the other gripped his shoulder, moans and whines of pleasure dripping from your lips. 
From above you, Katsuki suddenly moved to your side so the tip of his angry, red cocked was now at eye-level with yours. “Look at what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled as pre dripped from the head. “Just from that voice and this body.”
You didn't reply. You only leaned in and latched your lips onto his cock, sucking on the head. The blonde chuckled and stood on his hips for a better angle, beginning to rock his hips into your mouth. “You need more?” he cackled. “Such a little slut behind all that sweetness. Make her cum, Kiri. I wanna feel how tight her throat can get when she’s gushin’ all over your face.” 
The moon shone in Kiri’s eyes as he looked up at Katsuki mischievously. “Mmm, my pleasure,” he purred. “You can cum for me again, can’t you, cutie?” He dove back in, his tongue fucking your hole until you were squealing around Katsuki’s cock. “Tell us more about how much you wanted this,” he demanded. “Tell us all about that dirty mind of yours.” 
You were more than happy to. You wanted them to know all about the nights you’ve spent touching yourself in your pen, dreaming about them in your bed with you. Katsuki’s cock popped out of your mouth as you felt your orgasm beginning to peak. “I-I’ve wanted to touch you,” you moaned. “Wanted to taste you…wanted to feel both of you.” 
You gasped as your second orgasm flooded through you, Kiri still eagerly licking your pussy and his hands gripping your hips. It was all so good. All too much. “I’ve wanted you to touch me too!” you babbled, delirious from the pleasure as your orgasm rocked you. “Taste me…breed me!” As soon as the words flew out of your mouth, you covered your mouth. Kiri stopped licking you and Katsuki paused from stroking his cock, both of them staring at you in awe.’Oh, shit,’ you thought, panicking. ‘What did you just say?’ 
“You…have?” Katsuki carefully asked, his brows furrowing at you in an effort to make sense of your words. You felt embarrassment flood inside of you, replacing the satisfaction and bliss of your two orgasms. “I…I…” You didn’t know what to say anymore. You were scared to even speak in fear of saying the wrong thing and scaring them off. 
Kiri sat up between your thighs, stroking your stomach comfortingly. “It’s okay if it’s just a fantasy, sweetie,” he soothingly said. “We’re not judging. But if that’s something you want, you know that we’ll therefore be your mates.” Katsuki nodded, his fingers in your hair. “No other male could touch you,” he added, a fierceness in his eyes. “And we wouldn’t let ‘em.” 
“Unless you decided we didn’t work out,” Kiri quickly added to not make you feel uncomfortable. “But even then, you’d still have our kids. Would you be okay with that?” The both stared at you expectantly, patiently waiting for your answer. 
You were silent, your head spinning. Did you want that? Sure, the idea of being filled with their cum and their babies turned you on, but it was just that: a fantasy. Something that turned you on. You wanted to have children one day and finally graduate from your heifer status. You also wanted these two to be the ones to do it. But you had to be rational about this. There would be time for that later. “Maybe we’re moving too fast,” you admitted, still feeling foolish for actually craving this. “I want to get to know you two more.” 
They both nodded though still gave you that eager look like they wanted you to say something more. You sat up to take their hands in both of yours. “But,” you continued, your voice breathless and airy, “maybe we can play pretend? And maybe I can still be your mate without the babies?” You peered up at them through your lashes, hoping they’d agree. 
Their smiles were all you needed to let you know that your proposition was a definite hell yes. “I don’t see why not,” Kiri replied. “Whatever makes you comfortable, cutie.” You grinned happily, your heart soaring. Katsuki rolled his eyes, exasperated and extremely horny. “God, can we stop talking and just get to fucking her brains out?” he growled. 
Before Kiri could respond, the blonde was helping you onto your knees, coaxing you into all fours. “I’m goin’ first since you were too slow,” he grumbled. Kiri just laughed, letting him take the lead. Your body trembled as Katsuki situated himself behind you, his big body nearly covering yourself. His hands gripped your hips while his cock pressed against your entrance that was dripping with anticipation down your thighs. He felt big even now. You knew it was going to be a stretch to take him. 
Ready, sweet pea?” he asked, his gruff voice making you tremble. You nodded, biting down on your lower lip. “Let me know if it’s too much.” Then his cock was sliding inside of you, but just the head at first. Your mouth fell open on a gasp as you felt your pussy stretch around his girth. Thank God for those two orgasms. Katsuki didn’t move. He stayed completely still, waiting for you to give him permission to continue. After a few minutes of slow breaths and readjusting, you felt comfortable enough to take more of him. “I’m okay,” you squeaked. “Go ahead.” 
He slid inside of you, inch after inch of bull cock filling your pussy to the brim. You had never felt so full before. It was an indescribable feeling, especially when he began to finally fuck you hard, rough, and fast the way you craved. The harder his hips slammed into you, the more your pussy gripped him. You were a moaning mess, your voice loud and your breasts jiggling as Katsuki pounded into you from behind. “Harder, ‘Suki, please!” you sobbed. “Fuck me harder!” 
Kiri paused for a few beats, wondering if you were serious or real. “Don’t keep her waiting, Kats,” Kiri chuckled, his cock sitting against your lips. “Give her what she wants.” And the blonde did so. He gripped your hips for dear life, propped a leg up, and plunged his bull cock deeper into your soaking, tight walls that squeezed him tighter than a vice. “Such a good girl,” he grunted. “Takin’ this big, fat bull dick like this. Bet you’ve been thinking about me fuckin’ you.” 
You sucked him in deeper and deeper, causing his cock to glide against your G-spot. You wailed to the skies above, in love with his cock. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you loudly sobbed. “Keep going! Don’t stop!” Kiri chuckled from in front of you, his wet cock sliding against your lips. “You’ve got another big, fat bull dick to take care of, cutie,” he chuckled. “Open your mouth for me.” 
You did so, allowing his cock inside of your mouth. The two then began fucking you at the same time, thrusting into your tight holes in unison that had your body shaking and your mind going blank. Your pussy continued to squelch and clench around Katsuki’s cock, his balls slapping against your clit that was just about to explode. You moaned around Kiri’s cock and popped your mouth off of him, panting heavily.
“’S-Suki,” you warned, “I’m gonna…gonna…” 
“Me too, darlin’,” he groaned. “Your tight little pussy is gonna make me cum.” He then reached over your shoulder to take your chin into his hand, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip.“You gonna take it?” he snarled in your ear. “You gonna take all this cum deep in your cunt like my good little heifer? You want me to make you a mommy?” 
“Yes, Katsuki, please!” you screamed as your orgasm grew nearer. “I’ll take it all! All of it for you!” 
It didn’t take long for you to finally burst around his cock the way you needed to. You came with a long, loud moan that tears out of you as your third orgasm washed over you. The moment your pussy clenched around Katsuki’s cock was the moment he came too. He gripped your hips and swore to the heavens before he pulled out of your inviting, wet pussy. Only lewd sounds of his fist furiously pumping his wet cock were heard before a loud groan left his lips. “Fuck!” he bellowed as he finally burst all over your ass, coating your fur in his cum. 
“Wooow,” he drew out, laughing. “That’s a lot of cum, Kats! I think you ruined her!” “Think you can take me too, sweetie?” he softly asked. Weakly, you nodded, wanting him too. “Good girl,” he praised. “Just get on your back for me.” 
He then swung your legs over his broad shoulders and proceeded to slide his big, fat, hard bull cock inside of you, taking his sweet time and focusing on your body’s responses to him. “Gonna take you just like this,” he huffed as he began to thrust his hips forward, stroking your insides with his cock. “This is okay, sweetie? You still feelin’ good?” 
All you could do was moan, whimper, and sob at the pleasure, too far gone to form words. “If you ain’t gonna use that mouth to speak, you could use it for something else.” You understood immediately and weakly opened your mouth, allowing him to use it as a personal fleshlight. “Atta girl,” Kiri praised as you sucked on Katsuki’s thick cockhead. “Such a good little heifer, aren’t you?” 
You were. You were their good little heifer. You wanted to show them that more than anything, so you continued to hollow your cheeks to tighten your mouth around Katsuki’s cock and lifted your hips to meet Kiri's thrusts, brushing your clit against his pelvis. It didn't take long for your fourth (count ‘em; four) orgasm rose to the surface, threatening to spill over you.
You whined and whimpered around Katsuki’s thick cock, causing Kiri to plunge his cock inside of you a little bit faster. Katsuki leaned down, popping his cock out of your mouth. “You want Kiri to cum in you too?” he asked. “You want him to fill that tight pussy with his babies?” 
You practically sobbed as your orgasm hit you, causing you to cum all over Kiri’s cock without giving you a chance to warn him first. “Please!” you cried out. “Please, please, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Kiri continued his pace, moaning into the breeze as he chased his orgasm too. 
Katsuki hummed appreciatively for your climax, stroking your hair out of your face. “And after he's done, you’re gonna walk around with our cum deep inside you,” he murmured to you, taking you deeper into this breeding fantasy. "And then in a few months, you’ll be all nice and big with our kids.” His lips pressed to your ear, kissing you below your earlobe. “You’ll officially be ours,” he whispered. 
Kiri panted heavily from between your thighs, his cock swelling and throbbing inside of you, about to erupt. “Fuck, that’s so hot!” he groaned. “I’m gonna cum! S-so hard!”
Whines and moans left his pretty lips as his orgasm finally peaked. You almost were sure he’d cum inside of you until he quickly pulled himself out of you and pumped his nut all over your body. You weakly moaned as you felt his hot cum splash onto your stomach and titties, coating you completely in his scent. 
Your eyes fluttered closed out of exhaustion and bliss, soft pants leaving your lips. For a moment, you thought of all of that cum inside of you, both Katsuki and Kiri’s seed mingling together in your womb until you were completely full with their babies.
‘Maybe some day,’ you thought, and you believed it. It was impossible not to think you could have some sort of future together, especially when the two began to clean you up. They could only use their shirts to sob the cum off your body, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 
Afterwards, they both laid down on either side of you on the grass, trapping you between their big bodies. You laid your head on Katsuki's chest while your back pressed into Kiri's front. You were spooned from both sides, totally warm and comfortable. For a while, you just laid there in silence, enjoying the afterglow and the sound of crickets in the night. “That was amazing,” you finally sighed. 
Katsuki nodded, his big chest rising and falling as his breathing evened out. “Mmm, you definitely were,” he hummed. You felt his big arm cradle your neck, his hand lazily playing with your hair. “We can't wait to have you again…and again…and again.”
He leaned down to peck your lips, slightly sucking on your bottom lip as he pulled away. “Because now you’re yours, sweet pea,” he whispered in your ear. “We’re never gonna let you go now.” His words made your pussy clench excitedly around air, wanting desperately to have all of those “agains” and loving the feeling of being theirs. And them being yours. You were even happier to know that tonight wasn't a one time thing––this was a sure thing.
Kiri pressed his lips to your shoulder, using one arm to prop himself up to look down at you. “How ‘bout we all go down to the lake for a dip?” he suggested with a smile. “After a good cuddle under the stars, of course. Just look at this sky!”
He nodded up at the inky black canvas above you that was coated in twinkling stars. “Wow,” you whispered, in awe at the beauty. A happy, content feeling twirled in your gut as you laid with the bull duo, arms and legs entangled. 
You stared at the sky for who knows how long until the sounds of the crickets and swaying trees began to get you. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt Katsuki and Kiri both press their lips to your cheeks. Kisses goodnight.
“Rest now, mate,” Kiri murmured to you, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist. “We’ve got you now.” 
You drifted off with a smile. 
THE END. 
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mortispoxi ¡ 11 months ago
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Seeing Twitter users recommending the People Make Games documentary as a good way to get insight on the issue is so….
I know, I’m always extremely disappointed whenever I come across someone who thinks it’s the end all be all explanations regarding the Studio ZA/UM situation.
Recommending that video always comes with a heavy caveat from me that the person needs to stop around the 40 minute mark since the interviewer shows a very clear bias that’s unbecoming of a journalist.
Regardless, now that more people are finding out about these layoffs, which might take out members of the studio that have been there since the beginning, it could finally help smack some sense into those Twitter users that actually thought, FOR SOME REASON, Rostov, Kurvitz, and Hindpere were lying for shits and giggles rather than seeing what's ACTUALLY going on which is that the investors have a very obvious agenda against the real wronged party. Hopefully this'll also open their eyes to how the People Make Games video fed into this twisted narrative that Kurvitz was somehow at fault/responsible for the theft of his own IP, but that might be asking too much from their concrete brains. Here's hoping though!
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severinageto ¡ 2 months ago
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A terrible idea (or just things without context) — ONE SHOT
Satoru had a long, exhausting day. Boring meetings with the higher-ups, endless administrative work, and Panda, Maki, and Toge somehow more unbearable than usual. So when he got back to his apartment, he didn’t bother picking up a book or turning on any of his consoles. He just dropped himself onto one of his expensive sofas and, without even taking off his blindfold, closed his eyes.
His hair fell in shining waves, his skin smooth and pale like fine porcelain, his cheeks flushed, his sleepy cat-like eyes, and his slightly parted lips—all coming together in that same exquisite way Suguru always did. To top it off, with one finger resting on his lips and lying on his side on the bed, his eyes sparkled with that same look he used to give Satoru years ago, full of unspoken desires.
“Why don’t you lie down next to me, Satoru?”
Satoru knocked himself on the head a couple of times. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you. You’ve taken so long. Weeks, months, years. I think it’s finally time, Satoru.”
Satoru looked out the window. None of this made any sense. He searched for something out of place, some sign of where he was, but his room looked exactly the same as always. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember how he’d ended up here.
“Time for what?”
Suguru sat up in bed, motioning for Satoru to come closer. Naturally, he did. Suguru cupped his face, kissed him softly on the lips, and, very slowly, whispered:
“To kill me.”
Suddenly, the room filled with a black haze, surrounding them both. Suguru began to laugh and rubbed his right arm as if it hurt.
“This is a dream,” Satoru murmured.
“Took you long enough to figure it out. Well…” Suguru started combing his hair with his fingers, and Satoru noticed them beginning to stain with blood. “…that’s my point. You’re always late.”
Satoru grunted. He knew what was coming, but, as always, he wanted to try probing his subconscious just a little further.
“Suguru, do you…do you want me to kill you?” he asked softly, in the gentlest way he could, given the nature of the question.
Suguru stopped laughing.
“I’m already dead, Satoru.”
Satoru shot up, his heart pounding intensely as the memory of the nightmare still lingered. His breathing was rapid, almost gasping, and he felt a few cold drops of sweat trickle down his forehead. For a few moments, he stared at the ceiling, as if that could somehow erase Suguru’s words from his mind. He could feel the weight of the anguish in his chest, the emptiness that vision left behind, but little by little, his breathing steadied. With a deep sigh, he got up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen. As he calmed down, he opened the fridge, grabbed a tub of ice cream and a can of Coke, then sat down again and started eating in silence.
Suddenly, an idea struck him like lightning. He picked up his phone and opened Instagram.
“Every time I dream about you, it’s because…” he murmured to himself, typing Suguru’s username. “…aha.”
A genuine smile spread across his face when he saw that, once again, Suguru had unblocked him.
What a terrible idea.
A moment earlier
Suguru was rubbing lotion onto his hands, taking his time, reflecting on his day.
Three exorcisms, two meetings with investors, and one interview. A pretty busy day, but they were all like that. The life of a leader wasn't easy-there were countless things that needed his attention, which kept him running around constantly. He didn't complain, but he was tired. Really tired.
Miguel and Larue noticed how his busy life was taking a toll on him, so they offered to take the twins on a weekend trip. At first, Suguru refused, saying he wasn't tired, that they were imagining things, that it wasn't necessary. But after the sorcerers listed some things he could do in peace-like taking a bubble bath, having a few glasses of wine, or watching a movie-he decided to go along with it.
Maybe it was exactly what he needed.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror, smiled, and began combing his hair. It felt strange to have time for himself; he'd forgotten how much he enjoyed it.
"What can I do now?" he wondered aloud, inspecting his eyes up close. He grunted slightly, noticing his skin looked a bit dry.
"Right. Good idea, Suguru."
He went to the bathroom, applied a face mask, and set a twenty-minute timer on his phone. Then, he lay down on his bed.
"Just while it sets," he murmured, yawning loudly before closing his eyes.
Suddenly, he found himself in a store he hadn't visited in years-since his teenage days, to be exact. He felt thirsty, craving one of those sodas he used to get there all the time. He started looking for it in the coolers, but they weren't there. Instead, he found four doors, each in a different color: yellow, red, and blue. He clicked his tongue. He didn't want to go through any of them. He turned around to leave the store, but the place had turned into an ethereal force field.
"I hate these dreams!" he exclaimed as he turned back to face the doors. He examined them and, after a minute, figured out the obvious. He let out a deep sigh.
"It's not fair that you get two colors," he muttered, opening the blue door.
"It's not my fault," said Satoru, appearing through it. "You know that."
"What are you doing here?"
Satoru shrugged.
"It's your subconscious, bangs."
Suguru looked at him for a moment. The Satoru in his dream looked exactly as he had almost ten years ago. Slightly longer, fluffier hair, the school uniform, and his ever-present glasses. He laughed. He'd been thinking about his teenage years a lot lately, so this made sense.
"Why do you look like a kid?"
"'Like a kid?!"
Suguru burst out laughing.
"You know what I mean."
Satoru pulled a piece of candy from his pocket and began chewing it.
"I think it's because of the door color."
Suguru glanced at the doors again, then raised an eyebrow.
"Who's behind the yellow one?"
"You, if you hadn't killed all those people. Wanna see?"
Suguru scoffed, then shook his head.
"Not interested."
"You scared, bangs?"
Geto moved away from Satoru and stood beside the red door. He put his hand on the doorknob and smiled flirtatiously.
"I assume behind this one is you in that annoying mummy getup."
Satoru laughed and offered him another candy.
"You love it. Admit it."
"Uh-huh."
Gojo got close, their noses almost touching. Suguru swallowed. He knew this was a dream, but even so, he couldn't shake the guilt he felt getting aroused by a fifteen-year-old kid.
"You love all my versions," Satoru whispered, bringing his hand down toward Suguru's crotch.
"Okay, okay, if this is gonna be one of those dreams, I'll take the mummy!" Suguru blurted, moving away and cracking open the red door.
"Too late to change your mind," Satoru replied, looking over his glasses.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean if you open it, you get neither. Know why?"
Suguru sighed. He already knew the answer.
"Because blue and red make purple."
"Bingo! And what's behind the purple door?"
As soon as he said this, a fourth door appeared. Suguru's heart began to pound, a nearly paralyzing fear creeping over him.
"I don't know..."
"Nah, you know, Suguru."
Geto didn't answer. He backed away from Satoru, desperately searching for an escape.
"I want to wake up."
Satoru walked over, grabbed him by the neck, and pulled him toward the door.
"Open it first," he ordered.
"Let go of me, jerk!"
Gojo tightened his grip, and Suguru started to feel short of breath.
"We're in this fucking mess because of you, Suguru, so open it!"
Suguru shook his head, repeating over and over that he wanted to wake up. Satoru released him, only to grab him by the hair.
"WANT TO WAKE UP? OPEN IT!" He threw him against the door, and Suguru had no choice.
As he opened it, Satoru walked through, and the teenage version vanished.
Suguru, catching his breath, looked at this version of the albino with curiosity. It was the same Satoru he'd seen less than six months ago, but instead of his blindfold, he wore a black headband over his eyes.
"Suguru! Are you alright?" Gojo knelt down and hugged him, thin tears streaming down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Suguru. Please, forgive me. I had no choice. You...you didn't leave me a choice."
Suguru didn't reply. He just clung to him, fear freezing him in place. He hated being there, hated how real it felt, and hated finding comfort in this Satoru-his executioner. Gojo stroked his hair, continuing to beg for forgiveness.
Fed up with being trapped in his own mind, Suguru broke free from Satoru's arms. He looked at him closely and saw, even under the thick headband, that Satoru's eyes were full of pleading.
"How... how can I ever escape you, Satoru?" he asked, his voice breaking.
Satoru slid the headband down to his neck, his tear-filled eyes locked on Suguru's.
"You can't."
Suguru woke up suddenly to the sound of his alarm, his heart pounding like he’d run a marathon. Quickly, he rushed to the bathroom, ripped off his mask, and his body doubled over, tense, as he vomited. Panting, he sat beside the toilet, waiting for his breathing to steady. His mind was blank, and all he knew was that he wanted to feel better and forget what he had dreamed. At that moment, he wasn’t asking life for anything more.
Suddenly, without knowing why, he reached for his phone. He opened Instagram, went to Satoru’s profile, and unblocked him.
“If I can’t beat you, then…” he murmured, pulling out another mask.
What a terrible idea.
A moment later
Satoru didn't wait even a second to message Suguru. He knew Suguru had unblocked him so he'd see his photos and stories, but more than anything, so he'd talk to him. This game was a familiar one for both of them.
You unblocked me, Geto-sama.
Suguru noticed his phone light up six minutes after unblocking him. Seeing Satoru's name and photo, the weight of that dream lifted, if only for a moment. He opened the chat and set a nine-minute timer. It seemed like a reasonable amount of time to leave him on read.
When Satoru saw his message had been read, he scoffed but felt his heart speed up. Even though he knew Suguru was doing it on purpose, a part of him feared he'd get blocked again before he even got a reply.
Once the timer went off, Suguru grinned.
Mischievously, he began typing nonsense in the message kithout sending it, just so Satoru would see the "typing" bubble for a few minutes. Occasionally, he'd stop, letting the bubble disappear, then start again-an orchestrated symphony to get on the albino's nerves.
Satoru, on the other end, had an unprecedented urge to wring his neck.
Suguru finally stopped typing. He waited a minute, sighed, and then picked up the phone again.
I suppose I did, Gojo Satoru.
—————-continues in https://archiveofourown.org/works/60470752
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