#down payment series

[snoopyearss]

When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’

Feat. crybaby-ish!reader

Gojo, geto, toji

Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)

This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.

But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary

Anyway, enjoy!

Satoru Gojo

He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.

Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.

“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?

“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.

Suguru Geto

It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.

You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.

He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”

“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”

“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.

He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.

“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.

“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.

“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”

“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.

“Fuck.”

Part 2

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk toji #jjk angst #snoopyearss

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Paying consumer debts is basically optional in the United States

The vast majority of America's debt collection targets $500-2,000 credit card debts. It is a filthy business, operated by lawless firms who hire unskilled workers drawn from the same economic background as their targets, who routinely and grotesquely flout the law, but only when it comes to the people with the least ability to pay.

America has fairly robust laws to protect debtors from sleazy debt-collection practices, notably the Fair Debt Collection Practices Act (FDCPA), which has been on the books since 1978. The FDCPA puts strict limits on the conduct of debt collectors, and offers real remedies to debtors when they are abused.

But for FDPCA provisions to be honored, they must be understood. The people who collect these debts are almost entirely untrained. The people they collected the debts from are likewise in the dark. The only specialized expertise debt-collection firms concern themselves with are a series of gotcha tricks and semi-automated legal shenanigans that let them take money they don't deserve from people who can't afford to pay it.

There's no better person to explain this dynamic than Patrick McKenzie, a finance and technology expert whose Bits About Money newsletter is absolutely essential reading. No one breaks down the internal operations of the finance sector like McKenzie. His latest edition, "Credit card debt collection," is a fantastic read:

https://www.bitsaboutmoney.com/archive/the-waste-stream-of-consumer-finance/

McKenzie describes how a debt collector who mistook him for a different PJ McKenzie and tried to shake him down for a couple hundred bucks, and how this launched him into a life as a volunteer advocate for debtors who were less equipped to defend themselves from collectors than he was.

McKenzie's conclusion is that "paying consumer debts is basically optional in the United States." If you stand on your rights (which requires that you know your rights), then you will quickly discover that debt collectors don't have – and can't get – the documentation needed to collect on whatever debts they think you owe (even if you really owe them).

The credit card companies are fully aware of this, and bank (literally) on the fact that "the vast majority of consumers, including those with the socioeconomic wherewithal to walk away from their debts, feel themselves morally bound and pay as agreed."

If you find yourself on the business end of a debt collector's harassment campaign, you can generally make it end simply by "carefully sending a series of letters invoking [your] rights under the FDCPA." The debt collector who receives these letters will have bought your debt at five cents on the dollar, and will simply write it off.

By contrast, the mere act of paying anything marks you out as substantially more likely to pay than nearly everyone else on their hit-list. Paying anything doesn't trigger forbearance, it invites a flood of harassing calls and letters, because you've demonstrated that you can be coerced into paying.

But while learning FDCPA rules isn't overly difficult, it's also beyond the wherewithal of the most distressed debtors (and people falsely accused of being debtors). McKenzie recounts that many of the people he helped were living under chaotic circumstances that put seemingly simple things "like writing letters and counting to 30 days" beyond their needs.

This means that the people best able to defend themselves against illegal shakedowns are less likely to be targeted. Instead, debt collectors husband their resources so they can use them "to do abusive and frequently illegal shakedowns of the people the legislation was meant to benefit."

Here's how this debt market works. If you become delinquent in meeting your credit card payments ("delinquent" has a flexible meaning that varies with each issuer), then your debt will be sold to a collector. It is packaged in part of a large spreadsheet – a CSV file – and likely sold to one of 10 large firms that control 75% of the industry.

The "mom and pops" who have the other quarter of the industry might also get your debt, but it's more likely that they'll buy it as a kind of tailings from one of the big guys, who package up the debts they couldn't collect on and sell them at even deeper discounts.

The people who make the calls are often barely better off than the people they're calling. They're minimally trained and required to work at a breakneck pace. Employee turnover is 75-100% annually: imagine the worst call center job in the world, and then make it worse, and make "success" into a moral injury, and you've got the debt-collector rank-and-file.

To improve the yield on this awful process, debt collection companies start by purging these spreadsheets of likely duds: dead people, people with very low credit-scores, and people who appear on a list of debtors who know their rights and are likely to stand on them (that's right, merely insisting on your rights can ensure that the entire debt-collection industry leaves you alone, forever).

The FDPCA gives you rights: for example, you have the right to verify the debt and see the contract you signed when you took it on. The debt collector who calls you almost certainly does not have that contract and can't get it. Your original lender might, but they stopped caring about your debt the minute they sold it to a debt-collector. Their own IT systems are baling-wire-and-spit Rube Goldberg machines that glue together the wheezing computers of all the companies they've bought over the last 25 years. Retrieving your paperwork is a nontrivial task, and the lender doesn't have any reason to perform it.

Debt collectors are bottom feeders. They are buying delinquent debts at 5 cents on the dollar and hoping to recover 8 percent of them; at 7 percent, they're losing money. They aren't "large, nationally scaled, hypercompetent operators" – they're shoestring operations that can only be viable if they hire unskilled workers and fail to train them.

They are subject to automatic damages for illegal behavior, but they still break the law all the time. As McKenzie writes, a debt collector will "commit three federal torts in a few minutes of talking to a debtor then follow up with a confirmation of the same in writing." A statement like "if you don’t pay me I will sue you and then Immigration will take notice of that and yank your green card" makes the requisite three violations: a false threat of legal action, a false statement of affiliation with a federal agency, and "a false alleged consequence for debt nonpayment not provided for in law."

If you know this, you can likely end the process right there. If you don't, buckle in. The one area that debt collectors invest heavily in is the automation that allows them to engage in high-intensity harassment. They use "predictive dialers" to make multiple calls at once, only connecting the collector to the calls that pick up. They will call you repeatedly. They'll call your family, something they're legally prohibited from doing except to get your contact info, but they'll do it anyway, betting that you'll scrape up $250 to keep them from harassing your mother.

These dialing systems are far better organized than any of the company's record keeping about what you owe. A company may sell your debt on and fail to keep track of it, with the effect that multiple collectors will call you about the same debt, and even paying off one of them will not stop the other.

Talking to these people is a bad idea, because the one area where collectors get sophisticated training is in emptying your bank account. If you consent to a "payment plan," they will use your account and routing info to start whacking your bank account, and your bank will let them do it, because the one part of your conversation they reliably record is this payment plan rigamarole. Sending a check won't help – they'll use the account info on the front of your check to undertake "demand debits" from your account, and backstop it with that recorded call.

Any agreement on your part to get on a payment plan transforms the old, low-value debt you incurred with your credit card into a brand new, high value debt that you owe to the bill collector. There's a good chance they'll sell this debt to another collector and take the lump sum – and then the new collector will commence a fresh round of harassment.

McKenzie says you should never talk to a debt collector. Make them put everything in writing. They are almost certain to lie to you and violate your rights, and a written record will help you prove it later. What's more, debt collection agencies just don't have the capacity or competence to engage in written correspondence. Tell them to put it in writing and there's a good chance they'll just give up and move on, hunting softer targets.

One other thing debt collectors due is robo-sue their targets, bulk-filing boilerplate suits against debtors, real and imaginary. If you don't show up for court (which is what usually happens), they'll get a default judgment, and with it, the legal right to raid your bank account and your paycheck. That, in turn, is an asset that, once again, the debt collector can sell to an even scummier bottom-feeder, pocketing a lump sum.

McKenzie doesn't know what will fix this. But Michael Hudson, a renowned scholar of the debt practices of antiquity, has some ideas. Hudson has written eloquently and persuasively about the longstanding practice of jubilee, in which all debts were periodically wiped clean (say, whenever a new king took the throne, or once per generation):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/24/grandparents-optional-party/#jubilee

Hudson's core maxim is that "debt's that can't be paid won't be paid." The productive economy will have need for credit to secure the inputs to their processes. Farmers need to borrow every year for labor, seed and fertilizer. If all goes according to plan, the producer pays off the lender after the production is done and the goods are sold.

But even the most competent producer will eventually find themselves unable to pay. The best-prepared farmer can't save every harvest from blight, hailstorms or fire. When the producer can't pay the creditor, they go a little deeper into debt. That debt accumulates, getting worse with interest and with each bad beat.

Run this process long enough and the entire productive economy will be captive to lenders, who will be able to direct production for follies and fripperies. Farmers stop producing the food the people need so they can devote their land to ornamental flowers for creditors' tables. Left to themselves, credit markets produce hereditary castes of lenders and debtors, with lenders exercising ever-more power over debtors.

This is socially destabilizing; you can feel it in McKenzie's eloquent, barely controlled rage at the hopeless structural knot that produces the abusive and predatory debt industry. Hudson's claim is that the rulers of antiquity knew this – and that we forgot it. Jubilee was key to producing long term political stability. Take away Jubilee and civilizations collapse:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

Debts that can't be paid won't be paid. Debt collectors know this. It's irrefutable. The point of debt markets isn't to ensure that debts are discharged – it's to ensure that every penny the hereditary debtor class has is transferred to the creditor class, at the hands of their fellow debtors.

In her 2021 Paris Review article "America's Dead Souls," Molly McGhee gives a haunting, wrenching account of the debts her parents incurred and the harassment they endured:

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2021/05/17/americas-dead-souls/

After I published on it, many readers wrote in disbelief, insisting that the debt collection practices McGhee described were illegal:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation

And they are illegal. But debt collection is a trade founded on lawlessness, and its core competence is to identify and target people who can't invoke the law in their own defense.

Going to Defcon this weekend? I’m giving a keynote, “An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet’s Enshittification and Throw it Into Reverse,” today (Aug 12) at 12:30pm, followed by a book signing at the No Starch Press booth at 2:30pm!

https://info.defcon.org/event/?id=50826

I’m kickstarting the audiobook for “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation,” a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It’s a DRM-free book, which means Audible won’t carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

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/2023/08/12/do-not-pay/#fair-debt-collection-practices-act

#pluralistic #jubilee #debts that cant be paid wont be paid #Patrick McKenzie #patio11 #bits about money #debt #debt collection #do not pay #bottom feeders #Fair Debt Collection Practices Act #fdcpa #finance #armbreakers

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention. 

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frienemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 5k+

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to do this, so naturally I did it anyway. This is the first chapter in a planned series with a reader insert following the events of the OPLA universe. I sincerely hope that this is a story you all love as this is my first initial time writing for one of my beloved anime. But let’s be real, after seeing Mackenyu play Zoro (my fav) I knew I was going to be whipped from the start. The reader will go by “Doc” in this story at times, and later a nickname by Zoro himself.  As always, I hope you enjoy this. Much love, Jenn. Also, thank you @thegreatesttttttttt for indulging me.

Next

The ringing of the bell thundered through the sky above. An upcoming warning of four words that would echo through the street's moments later. 

“The pirates are coming!”

You could practically hear the rest of the town groan with a sigh. Their annoyance stunk up the streets as Usopp sounded the imaginary alarm as he usually did every day around this time. Maybe it was because you considered Usopp a friend that his tall tales and wild imagination didn’t bother you. 

Instead, a sly smile tilted your lips as you continued to grind the seeds deep into the mortar. Mr. Edison’s gruff voice from outside your window reminded Usopp for the millionth time that he needed to stop as he sprinted past. 

“What is that boy going on about?” Naan huffed.

You sent a quick glance behind your shoulder at the older woman who was currently folding the recently washed linens. All of them are used with a purpose to either staunch bloody wounds or for the simple purpose of relieving colds. Naan’s linens, like her home, were used for a multitude of healing services, with the only payment she accepted was that of the kindness of others around her. 

“You already know, Naan,” you replied, your smile evident in your words. “It’s the usual afternoon reminder to stay on your toes.”

A deep chuckle came from behind you followed by the soft cough that came after. 

“These toes can’t do very much standing. So, maybe tell your friend to give me a day of rest soon.”

“Usopp has done this every day for seven years. I don’t think anything anyone will ever say will make him stop.”

Even if you could get Usopp to stop, you wouldn’t be the one to make him. You weren’t sure how many people in town knew who his father was - or that he’d been a pirate. A father by suggestion, Usopp’s wild imagination could only recall small things from the stories his mother had been willing to share, and from those stories, even greater ones grew.

While everyone else may have found Usopp’s stories as an ever-present headache you knew they held a deeper meaning. They were the only thing he knew of a man he never got to know. 

The sound of chair legs creaking across the floor cut you out of your thoughts. Just in time from the looks of the seed putty you’d created. A heavy thud on the boards informed you Naan grabbed her cane and the heavier shuffling of her feet that she was heading in your direction. 

“What are you so intently making over here, child?”

Settling down the pestle, you reached over your workstation to grab a pot. You were going to need to fetch some water to bring everything to a bowl before you strained it into a jar. 

“Water. I need to go get some water,” you murmured as you brought the pot down in front of you.

“Am I talking to myself?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Naan. Did you say something?”

This time you did dare to look at her. Her deep-set wrinkles set impossibly deeper as she regarded your work from over your shoulder. 

“Oh, I only asked what you were making that was stinking up my kitchen.”

Your eyes flew open wide as you took a deep breath in. You were sure the only thing you’d put in that maybe - maybe - smelled was the slippery elm, but you hadn’t even steeped it in the water yet. Naan must have read your panic before it began to stitch your brow together. Your eyes still helplessly peeled to the job in front of you instead of the chuckling woman behind you. 

“It’s fine, child. I’m just teasing you.”

All your panic rushed out in a huff of air as your body finally turned to greet her. Your eyes instantly took in the very tired look of hers. 

“You should get some rest, Naan.”

The two of you knew you meant well. You would never try and make Naan feel older than she already felt, except you didn’t give a damn about her feelings when you could easily spot the sweat on her upper lip. The way her body leaned more into the cane that supported her. She batted your concern away with a swat of her free hand. As if it would be enough to make whatever fear that gripped at your heart magically disappear.  

“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. You're wheezing with every breath now-“

“I said I’m fine. Leave me alone and start worrying about whatever it is you’re making.”

“Well,  if you would stop interrupting me, maybe I could finish it!”

The irritation in your voice wasn’t hard to miss. Naan heard it too no doubt with the way her brow cocked as if begging you to repeat it. 

The silence stretched uncomfortably between you. Naan wouldn’t even look at you - probably too scared to see your eyes pleading, full of worry for her to just go lay down. 

Why must you always be so stubborn? 

The question sat on your tongue and made your words form like molasses. You weren’t a child anymore. So, it begged the question of why you were still afraid to speak to her like an adult. It didn’t matter if what you said hurt her old feelings. Not when the thought of her not being around made your chest begin to spread wide like an aching chasm. 

“You never did say what you were making.”

You pressed your tongue against your cheek while you debated if it would be worth it to try and argue with her. Of course, you were always the first one to relent and push it under the metaphorical rug.

“It’s a gift for Miss Kaya. Usopp told me her cough hadn’t changed and asked if I would make something for her.”

“Hmm,” Naan hummed in thought. “That boy is strange, but he is kind.”

“Not as strange as Kaya having an unknown illness the last few years and never seeking any aid from the town's doctor,” you grumbled. 

Naan’s hand lightly clasped your shoulder in comfort - comfort you didn’t want to accept. Not only were thoughts of Naan being sick plaguing every ounce of free space in your brain but now so was Kaya. You’d only met her once when you were younger with Usopp and after her parents died that odd butler, Klahadore, kept her under strict observation. 

In all the years you’d been with Naan, learning everything she could teach about healing, you’d found it odd that the staff never came to ask for help. You couldn’t recall a time when Sham or Buchi ever came down requesting any tonics or medicines from Naan, or for her to come with them to examine Kaya in the first place. 

I wasn’t aware they were waitstaff and doctors. 

You knew these thoughts would only dampen your mood until it turned completely sour. You just couldn’t stop the runaway train that was your thoughts from slipping back into questioning everything with the universe never giving you any new answers. 

“How many times have I told you, child, we can’t make people get help. They have to seek it themselves and that- that is when the real healing begins.”

You were already bitter and that bitterness responded to Naan’s words in the form of an eye roll. One you were lucky the older woman didn’t see. 

“It’s just not right.” 

“Right or not, it’s not our place to go butting in.”

She stood behind you for a few more minutes waiting for a reply you didn’t give. You were done talking. Done trying to get her to understand that she was sick too and that all those years of molding words and actions to help others were what drove you to help her. To help Kaya. Only Usopp seemed to notice that something in her grand home wasn’t right. 

Frustration drew tight across your chest causing your hands to seek support against the counter. For a split second, you imagined yourself splitting open and becoming two separate people. One being the doctor Naan trained you to be and the other something less controlled. Someone who was tired of listening but never being heard. 

You listened as Naan began to retreat back to her table where the rest of the linens waited to be folded. You listened as another terrible cough violently shook itself free from her lungs as you focused on your work. 

If you couldn’t help Naan you were just going to settle for helping Miss Kaya. Once you finished making Usopp’s requested medicine you were going to be sure he delivered it to her. 

It was time a doctor paid a visit. 

————

The shipyard. 

Of course, Usopp was going to be here. Why you hadn't thought to come here first felt like a mystery all on its own. 

In all the years you’d known him, Usopp’s routine hardly ever changed. He usually performed his usual pirate ritual just before he started his day in the shipyard. He was hired to care for and clean all of the ships housed within, however, and upon no real surprise to you, Usopp cleaned and polished the Going Merry daily. 

So, it didn’t surprise you to find him already on the ship. What did surprise you were the three people standing with him steps away from the Going Merry, herself. 

You didn’t feel alarmed in any way. Usopp was good with people - he enjoyed talking to anyone willing to listen. The man with the straw hat, who was grinning wildly in the direction of Usopp and then to his friends, seemed happy to listen. He was giving Usopp his full attention and whatever your friend was saying was exactly what Straw Hat wanted to hear. 

The other two people beside him, however, didn’t seem to share in the excitement. Sure, the pretty woman with the orange hair was giving all the perfect signaling queues of a smile and nod to make it believable that she was interested in anything Usopp had to say. Did she probably care about whatever was being said? Probably not, but at least she didn’t look as sour as the moss-hair-colored guy- 

Holy shit

Your feet stopped working. Your knees seemed to refuse to bend, to make any movement forward for the last few feet to close the distance to the group. For what reason? There had to be a perfectly good reason- 

Nope. Thoughts gone. Head empty. 

That was the best way to describe what was currently happening as your eyes stayed glued to the three-sword-wielding swordsman standing next to the woman. 

Three swords? You wondered. Where does the other one go?

Maybe you would ask him if you ever summed up the courage to do just that. If you could just get your legs to function again. 

In all the time you’d lived on Shell Island you were more than positive you’d never seen someone that looked close to him. Especially someone carrying around three swords or standing with so much purpose. Even as your eyes took him in you could tell he was pretending to be relaxed, but after years of mending bodies, you noticed the tightness between his shoulder blades. The ease he tried to display with a hand resting on the hilt of the sword wasn’t actually resting. Even relaxed, this man was ready to unsheathe those blades and use them at a moment's notice. 

While the idea made you consider him a great swordsman, your heart also ached at the thought of feeling trapped and weary of others' intentions. 

Your thoughts would’ve continued to run wild as you embarrassingly gawked at this stranger and his friends. All of that was ruined, however, when Usopp caught a glimpse of you between orange and green hair. 

“Doc!”

Usopp’s excitement translated to a crazy arm wave and immediately caused all three of his newfound friends to face you. God, this meant you had to get your legs working. You had to physically move closer. You could do that. No problem. 

Taking in a deep breath, you allowed a genuine smile to raise your lips in welcome. Luckily, your feet didn’t betray you as you moved the last few feet. You made a mental note as you got closer that the straw hat was meeting your smile with his own, while the other two regarded you with lackluster enthusiasm. 

Great. They were the grumpy types of people. 

“There you are Usopp,” you began cheerfully. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 

“You know, Usopp?” Asked straw hat. 

You felt your brow crease in question as your smile wilted at the corners. 

“I would hope so. We’ve known each other since we’ve lived here.”

“Impressive,” mumbled the woman. 

Okay, maybe she wasn’t as friendly as you originally thought, but she was still definitely friendlier than moss hair. Who currently felt like he was drilling holes into your chest. 

“Ugh, Doc I was just going to take these guys to visit, Kaya,” Usopp interjected. 

He was still smiling - always smiling. His eyes darted to the three new faces before landing back at you. 

“Why would you take them to see, Kaya?”

“She owns the shipyard and we-“Straw hat interjected, “Are in need of a ship. That beautiful ship behind us, to be exact.” 

You glanced behind him to the Going Merry. Kaya’s family ship. 

You shot Usopp a questioning glance that you weren’t surprised to see him ignore. He was up to something there was no doubting that. The issue was you weren’t sure what angle he was trying to play. 

“Good luck with that.” 

You did mean it. You didn’t think he was going to get it no matter how good-natured he seemed. That was still a family memory you weren’t sure Kaya would be willing to part with. 

“Thanks!”

“Doc, before I take them over there do you by chance have what I asked for?”

You patted your satchel for good measure before you replied, “That’s why I was looking for you. I have it right here.” 

Usopp took a step towards you, his hand outstretched in waiting for you to deposit the bottle. When you didn’t comply with his request he shot you a look of worry. 

“You do have it right?”

“Yes, Usopp I told you I did. I just want to come with you to check on her myself.”

A look of worry dimmed the mirth in his eyes for one second. If you didn’t know what to look for you would have missed it entirely. You knew he’d been asking you for months to sneak in with him to visit Kaya. His own suspicions began to outweigh the doubt that plagued his heart with every heavy decision that needed to be made. 

Deep down, Usopp knew if you were finally going to answer his request of sneaking in with him, it must be serious. A concept Usopp himself purposely tried to run from often. 

“Wait, you’re a doctor? That is so cool!” 

You needed to learn Straw Hat’s name because he was growing on you fast. 

“I’m no-“

“She’s actually one of the best doctors in the whole East Blue,” Usopp beamed. “She’s cured this small village of at least two possible plague outbreaks twice already.” 

You were willing to bet your eyes were the size of saucers. There was no way any of them would believe that kind of nonsense. There was absolutely no way- 

“Wow, now that is really impressive! Sounds just like somebody who should be a part of my crew-“

“No!”

“We are not a crew!”

The absolute verbal whiplash you just experienced left your head reeling to pick up on every conversation. Straw Hat was practically turning into pure sunshine in front of you, while the other two were glaring like you’d sprouted three heads. 

Geez, what a tough crowd. 

“Ok, wait what?”

“It’s nothing he doesn’t mean anything by it,” the woman replied, a tight smile thinning out her lips. 

“We don’t need someone pretending to play medicine woman to join us.” 

Your eyes narrowed in on the now green-haired monster. He met your cold glance with his own. Whoever - whatever - he experienced in his life meant he didn’t find you the least bit threatening. He regarded you like an annoyance and you found yourself wondering why the universe made all the grumpy ones the most attractive. 

If his lips pouted any harder he was going to have to rent a kissing booth. 

“For your information, I’m not a pretend doctor.”

Whatever he was going to reply with was cut off by Straw hat who quickly pointed at himself. “I’m Luffy, and these are my companions Nami and Zoro.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Luffy,” you beamed letting them know your name in response. “But most people just refer to me as Doc because of Usopp.” 

Nami clapped her hands together to bring you both back to the matter at hand. Kaya’s medicine. Their boat. 

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get going? We really should stop by and pay her a visit.” 

“Oh yeah! Come on guys, I can show you the fastest way there.” 

Usopp tossed down his rag and skipped backward to the crate where his own satchel sat. 

“Great! If you guys will kindly follow me this way I can show you something really awesome.” 

You wanted to smack some sense into him. Usopp always wanted to be liked - for people to spend time with him and enjoy it. Besides Kaya and you who humored him with his opulent imagination and ability to spin fables like cotton candy. These people, Luffy excluded, did not deserve his endearing desire for friendship. They were both giving off major chip on their shoulder vibes and you vowed to become an even bigger pain in the ass if they were unnecessarily rude to him. 

They didn’t wait to know if you were joining them or even behind them. They all moved forward to follow Usopp, who was spit-firing a conversation at Luffy who easily seemed to match it with his own charisma. Nami and Zoro trudged behind them both and you brought up the rear. 

You’d hoped at some point Luffy or Usopp would drag you into the conversation. Anything that would keep your wandering eyes from constantly burrowing holes between Zoro’s sculpted shoulders. If you didn’t locate some form of self-control soon, you were positive your brain would be sent spinning into a tangent about how martial arts training with weapons was a godsend. So, looking at your feet for the next few miles would have to suffice. 

It was strange how the world between poverty and the rich was such an overwhelming force. The farther you ventured out past the town and into the privacy of the landscape that kept Kaya’s family home hidden, it was a wonder that anyone would know it was there. 

There were endless strawberry fields that farmers planted on one side and potatoes on the other. Dozens of workers tended to their growth with their hard work and sweat until a wall of bamboo cut off any view. All you could see was an endless path swallowed in bamboo branches making the path more foreboding than you thought necessary. 

When you finally came in through the front gates, their iron and mortar was a welcomed sight. The one thing that wasn’t was that stupid Well you’d grown to hate ever since you almost fell in looking over the side as a child. 

“I’ve never seen a house this big before.” 

Luffy’s admission sent your eyes up from your feet to the large garden entrance. And that damned well that sat like a mockery in the middle of the walkway to the front. 

“It’s impressive, right? Kaya’s given me an open invitation to stop by anytime I want.” 

Your eyes darted over to Usopp who was practically skipping with excitement as he and Luffy made their way over to the well. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t. If he did, Usopp would only find you looking at him - full of questions - with a look calling him a liar. You would never want him to feel bad. It was never your intention, however, it was going to be more embarrassing if you all got caught and thrown out on your ass than just being honest. 

“Wow. That’s pretty awesome,” Luffy breathed. His face was full of wonder as he continued to take in the large space. “All of this is just for one person?”

“Well…she lives here with a few other staff.”

“Yeah. A bunch of asshole staff,” you grumbled under your breath.

By the way, Luffy and Usopp were hanging over the side of the well - ick - neither of them had heard you. Unfortunately, your fellow rear buddies did. 

“You don’t seem to be a fan of the staff?” Nami ventured. 

You eyed her carefully. She came off friendly enough, but she wasn’t giving anything else away. The small smile on her lips wasn’t reaching her eyes. Instead, they were calculating and waiting for you to give her any information you were willing or unwilling to give. 

Nami was incredibly smart and equally dangerous because of it. 

“They do a lot of suspicious things,” you replied slowly, unsure of how much sharing was too much. 

“I’m sure butlers don’t come harboring life-threatening secrets,” Zoro countered.

His hand shoved in a pocket while the other still rested on the sword. He regarded you the way adults do children making up fairytales. The way the townspeople looked at Usopp like a silly child always crying wolf. They both thought you were being silly, and you wish you could say their disregard didn’t make your chest cave in just a bit, but you never were a good liar. 

“No, maybe butlers don’t,” you countered, “but people do.”

When neither of them showed signs of continuing on with the conversation you started forward following Usopp and Luffy. You didn’t care about whatever conversation Zoro or Nami were having behind you. They could’ve been discussing robbing the place blind for all you could care about. 

You were worried more about the people than the objects inside. 

“If you have an invitation, why are we going through the back way?”

Just tell them, Usopp. 

“Oh, well I never go through the front entrance. This is more of a VIP entrance.”

“This guy is full of shit.”

“Yeah, but if he gets us inside who cares.” 

Why was Luffy the only member of this merry band of misfits who weren’t incredibly grumpy? 

“Usopp,” you called out to him in a warning. 

He gave you a glance over his shoulder before he made his way over the giant lily pads without a reply. 

Little shit, you thought as you realized he was very much choosing to ignore your existence. Did you blame him? Not really. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had humored him this long and you were debating on if you should be the one to crush his newfound hopes and dreams. 

Fortunately for you, you weren’t going to have to be the bad guy in that scenario. One already seemed to exist. 

Just as Usopp reached the second lily pad, you knew something was wrong. The hiccup of an, “Oh,” that came out of him registering as panic. He was already turning back to stop Luffy from coming closer, almost begging him to go to another entrance - an extra special one - when he was interrupted by a knife plunging into the lily pad between his feet. 

A very sharp knife. One you knew could’ve easily severed flesh or nicked an artery. Your blood boiled as you pushed past Luffy, your eyes darting wildly as Buchi stalked towards Usopp who stuttered past a greeting. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Usopp?” He snapped as his hands lurched in to grasp the leather of Usopp’s top. “You know you aren’t welcome here.” 

“I know nothing of the sort. I came to give Kaya an extra-special gift.”

You practically glided past the last lily pad when a sharp hiss cut the air. You didn’t necessarily need to look to see if it was Sham. You knew it was. She stood just off the first step from where they’d been disemboweling the hog, mop at the ready, and her teeth bared directly at you.

“He’s brought the doctor,” she hissed. 

Buchi finally seemed to register your presence from behind Usopp and bared his own teeth in warning. 

“You are definitely not welcome here.”

“A rather odd thing to say to a healer when your mistress seems to be suffering a mysterious illness.”

“An illness we are more than capable of handling.”

“I find that highly doubtful.”

With his hands still holding onto Usopp, Buchi leaned forward to growl - literally growl - in your face like a rabid dog. You wanted to poke him in the eye and were incredibly tempted to do so when a soft voice cut through the tension. 

“Usopp! What a wonderful surprise!”

Everyone’s attention shifted as Kaya made her entrance on the arm of Klahadore. You took a step back and away from the two just so Usopp could twist himself free and walk towards the waiting mistress of the estate. 

“I wouldn’t miss today of all days. Happy birthday, Kaya.”

“You remembered.”

My god, she was practically swooning and Usopp was eating it up. 

“I could never forget.” 

This feels awkward. 

They acted like they didn’t have a captive audience watching them look at each other like two lovestruck teenagers. 

It wasn’t hard to notice how Kaya beamed at him or how that attention brought happiness to Usopp. For as long as you can remember, even as children, Usopp always liked her. Sure, he would play it off as if they were just friends. There was no way she could see him that way, but when Kaya’s parents passed away three years ago what was between them seemed to change. Their feelings became something saturated in an understanding of loss. Usopp knew what Kaya needed because it was something he himself had never truly received. 

So, did it bother you that she actually hadn’t greeted you yet? Not really. What did bother you, however, was the way Klahadore’s eyes slithered over to you. It made you feel like you were going to be sick.

“Usopp. Did you bring the doctor with you?”

Please, let me crawl into a hole and die. 

There was something off about Klahadore. It wasn’t just because he made your skin want to completely crawl off your body. It was the way he sounded every alarm bell in your brain. The way your heart speeds up triggering the fight or flight response that was ingrained in your body's defense system. The way he continued to look at you as if you were a bug that needed to be squashed, only drove the feeling home. 

“Oh, yeah. Kaya, I had Doc make you something for your cough. I figured it might be worth a try.” 

God, he looked so happy. He was completely oblivious to how Klahadore seemed ready to smite you both where you stood. 

You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Maybe when you opened them he wouldn’t be staring daggers into your face. 

Nope. No such luck. 

“Oh, that is so incredibly sweet,” Kaya beamed. 

Klahadore slowly set his hand out in front of him. The cold obsidian of his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “Please hand over whatever tonic you’ve acquired for Miss Kaya.”

You weren’t aware your hand was already in the satchel. Your fingers wrapped protectively tight against the cool glass of the bottle as you continued to stare at one another. 

“Hand it over. Please.”

“No-“

Usopp’s hand on your shoulder stopped you cold. Your teeth ground tightly to stop your next words. You didn’t want to hand that asshole anything. Not when Kaya looked so damn pale. 

Something is wrong. 

The thought wormed its way into your brain until it gnawed at all other thoughts until it consumed every available spot. It was all you could think as your eyes continued to look over her frail frame. 

Naan taught you that as a doctor, and as a healer, it was your job to fight for your patients. To always do what you could and what was best for their care. Was giving the medicine you made for Kaya to Klahadore best for her care. 

No. No, it sure as shit didn’t feel like it. 

Maybe that was why it felt like such a betrayal to take the medicine from your bag and drop it inside his gloved hand. You watched as his disgusting white fingers wrapped around the gray bottle and brought it up to rest closely to his chest. 

“Now, Usopp we’ve had this discussion about coming here unannounced - and this time with a doctor.”

“Nonsense, Klahadore,” Kaya interjected. “They are my friends. What a sweet gesture it was, Doc to try and make me something. Usopp, did you come to tell me more stories about your adventures?”

“I can do you one better. I brought some of my crew.”

With a sweep of his arm, Usopp introduced Luffy, Nami, and Zoro who registered this gesture with sheer disbelief. Well, disbelief would be putting it mildly. 

“Is he talking about us?” 

Luffy sounded as confused as you felt. 

“I’m sorry, but we do not have any room for any extra guests tonight, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh please, Klahadore couldn’t they at least stay for dinner? It is my birthday.”

You hated how Kaya had to beg to have company that wasn’t her staff. You could vaguely remember the butler who was in charge before Klahadore had arrived. Mr. Thorburr had been an absolute delight and genuinely seemed to care about Kaya and her family’s wellbeing. If he was still in charge, you were positive he would’ve believed in letting Kaya outside to enjoy the garden or have friends stop by, even unannounced, to visit. 

One day he was just gone and slowly the only staff that was left were these three assholes. It all felt awfully convenient or maybe you were just being petty because you disliked them.

The way Klahadore looked at her made your stomach turn. 

“Anything for you, Miss Kaya.”

You wondered if he choked a little over each word as they traveled up his throat.

“Great!” Luffy shouted. “When do we eat?”

“You don’t. Not dressed like that. You will change and bathe before dinner. No exceptions.”

Everyone was willing to accept the invitation. The premise of a bath seemed enough to make Nami practically skip forward to be led inside by Sham. Your feet, however, refused to move. Usopp, Luffy, and Nami practically took the small stairs up to the patio in one giant leap. Your earlier dread from the day was back and something dark borrowed its way into your chest. 

Something is wrong. 

You were about to turn tail and run when you noticed Zoro stop at the edge of the stairs. His body turned slightly to eye Klahadore one last time before he turned to follow after his crew. It was small and barely lasted a second, but it was enough. 

Zoro noticed something wasn’t right either and maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to believe you. All you had to do was join him inside the house to talk to him. No biggie. 

Taking in a deep breath you finally moved to follow behind Kaya and Klahadore. Your eyes intently following a particular green-haired swordsman and wondering how you were going to get him alone. 

The showers seemed like a great place to start.

_______________________

As always, thank you for reading. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

#one piece live action #opla zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla #one piece #roronoa zoro fanfiction #zoro fanfiction #opla fanfiction #ongoing series #frienemies to lovers #its following the story arc with added spice in between #slow burn #friends to lovers #one piece x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #reader is referred as Doc

[fillinforlater]

On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji

Length: 3128 words

Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji

TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)

"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?" 

Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.

"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch. 

“Who is helping you, who is he?"

"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches. 

"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.

"I can't fail this."

Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.

"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."

"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"

"You really want this, Minji?"

"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen. Why do you—"

"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."

"Thank you so much, Unnie!"

"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—" 

Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice: 

"Never try to get between him and me."

# 

"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.

"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."

"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure." 

You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking. 

Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.

"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."

"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"

"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.

"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"

"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.

"Get on your knees."

"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?" 

You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?” 

“H-how did you know—?”

“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."

Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it? 

Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.

"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"

A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes. 

"—I'll fulfill your desires."

Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.

Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.

"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."

You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.

The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?

"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.

"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."

"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"

You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—

"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."

—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.

You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom. 

"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"

"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."

"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."

Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."

"Oh, 

"You call this nothing?"

You tsk and slap her face with your cock.

"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!" 

You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.

"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—

The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.

"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.

"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me." 

Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.

She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink: 

The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.

You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.

"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.

"Yes, Master."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."

"Can you do that?"

Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock. 

Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.

"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."

You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach. 

"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—" 

But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge. 

"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”

She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career. 

And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking. 

Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.

"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."

Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."

"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."

"Yes, Master."

"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.

"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."

Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—

"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"

You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.

Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.

"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."

"M-Master, I..."

"Shut the fuck up.

"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #male reader smut #newjeans smut #newjeans minji smut #minji smut #kim minji smut

[justsomeectoplasm]

I'm still genuinely astonished at studios diving full on into Ai.

I get that they're not that smart but there's a limit at how fucking stupid a person can be.

"Ai will replace writers" BITCH AND THEN??? WHERE'S THE AI GONNA GET IT'S NEW SAMPLES FROM???

"There's tons of movies and series they can sample" Have you seen how fast Ai productions are going to be? How quickly that well will run dry? How long will these samples last until people will see a pattern in their production? When the Ai cannot be fed anymore?

Ai is nowhere near the evolution of being a reliable tool in art. They're jumping too fast on it and it's going to bite them in the ass. Ah, well I guess that will be a good thing since they can finally perish seeing as they will rather burn down their houses then pay actors and writers their payments.

#wga strike #sag strike

[kdinjenzen]

My final words on Rooster Teeth & just SOME of my experiences there.

I’ve been waiting to say anything directly for a long time on this subject in hopes that something - anything - would change and get better, but it’s obvious that this is just “how it is there.”

So it’s time for me to finally say something about Rooster Teeth.

I joined the company, officially, as a contracted content creator and editor in February 2013. I worked to create a monthly video game news/release series. I produced episodes every month until I was officially hired as a full time content creator/editor in November of 2013.

From February 2013 until November 2013, I went entirely unpaid for all of my contract work. I was never given the payment promised for anything I did. When I was hired full time and I brought that up, I was told that “it’s been so long already, it’s not really a big deal is it?” And then the subject was never brought up again.

Within a few weeks of working at Rooster Teeth I was given a nickname, that nickname was a slur. Every day I came into work I was called “Fggt” - but they could not use that name in content so when anyone was recording I was called “Fugz” instead. For any fans who used that nickname for me for years, that’s what you were calling me. I couldn’t say anything about it, I had reported the use of that nickname for years to HR, and nothing was ever done about it and the videos that use that nickname for me are still up.

When Christmas rolled around my first year, 2013, I was given a “bonus” of about $100. Any money I had at the time was extremely helpful as I had nearly nothing to my name, so I was grateful for it. But a long time member of the company looked at me as I was handed my small bonus and scoffed “Why do YOU get a bonus? You’ve only been here for five minutes.”

In my first years there I would arrive at work around 7am (two hours before everyone else) to begin editing videos and would often have to stay until 9pm to get as much work done as possible. This was actively encouraged so we could have a backlog of content, but I was always given “rush orders” to edit more important videos to go out either the same day or next day. That’s when the crunch began for me and it did not end.

From that point on harassment started, and not just toward me. Any time I brought up mistreatment or that “making fun of people in content only encourages the community to hate us” - I was waved away saying “IT’S JUST A JOKE! Ignore the comments!”

This “ignore the comments” mantra was a way to excuse their own behavior. Anyone who was not “important” was constantly made fun of with no way to defend themselves or be part of the content in a way to defend themself even jokingly so. We were silenced at every turn.

Jeremy, Matt, and I tried to make content together as often as we could in those earlier days. And we rarely got the chance to do so. I remember being yelled at for making the Zelda video with Matt after it had already gone up because it was a “waste of time”.

During that time I was put into a position where I ignored my own physical health to focus more on work, which eventually caused me to come down with pneumonia. I spent several days in the hospital with a fever over 112F. When I was released I was back to work only a few days later and with the same work schedule.

Eventually I had enough from the department I was working for at the time and moved departments in hope that I would be better treated elsewhere in the company. I still loved the work I did, I loved some of the people at the company, and I believed that if I put my effort into it I could make things better for everyone.

The department I transferred to promised me a producer job and show running their new podcast while also being tasked to edit videos and sometimes write stories for news channel. I was never given the producer position in that department, I was never allowed even near the podcast unless they were “desperate for a last minute person”, I went entirely uncredited for anything I wrote for them, and I was pushed to edit 3 videos from start to finish every day with little to no turn around time so they could be posted immediately.

My hours in that department were 7am until 11pm.

I was crunching harder than before.

I wasn’t allowed to be in anything.

I had my name removed from everything I worked on.

I was put in an office where I was forgotten about and swept under the rug, people even IN the company forgot I worked there with how sectioned off and pushed aside I was.

In 2016 I came out as trans and many people at the company publicly voiced their support on social media.

Inside the company however, things got worse.

People had no idea how to deal with a trans woman, so I was interacted with even less and only trotted out every so often to show off “We Hire LGBTQIA+ People!”

It was only at this point where the nickname “Fugz” finally stopped being used all the time. Three years of content with that name being used toward me and all that content is still up.

During that time my acting manager began to harass me and lie to the community any time I was “planned to be on camera and couldn’t show up” - many times it was said to the audience watching that I “had already gone home” when I was in the other room crunching to finish my job and the work of my manager.

The harassment continued and I began to spiral into a deep depression, wondering what I could do, I eventually reported it to HR and the “solution” was that they brought in my manager who was harassing me into a Two-On-One meeting where the manager said “oh I’m sorry” and that was it. The way I was treated did not change at all and actively became worse.

I then went to one of the founding fathers of the company to express my concerns, and was told that I was “too nice to work at Rooster Teeth” and that I should “just quit and find somewhere else to work” - I was horrified.

At the moment I couldn’t do anything but feel horrified and powerless. I was an out trans woman in Texas in 2018 and was told “just quit and find work elsewhere in Texas” a state that actively finds ways to keep our rights from us.

Throughout my employment I also struggled to get the company insurance to cover my transition despite Rooster Teeth telling me that “Oh it’s all good” - because of their inaction and lack of help in this matter I amassed horrible amounts of medical debt despite being “completely covered” by them.

I still am recovering from this debt now as Rooster Teeth has been underpaying me for years, my raises were frozen by my manager at the time, and because of that I never received a proper raise even up until I quit earlier this year.

Until the end of 2020 I was paid around $40k per year as a Producer/Director. Far below the industry standard. If not for the help of one person fighting for me to be paid properly, I wouldn’t have gotten bumped up to the pay of the lowest paid person next to me. Which was nearly $70k. I was shocked that I was being underpaid by nearly $30k.

During the 2019 layoffs, I was actually one of the people affected. I was very nearly laid off as well, but was told to either move to LA and work there (at the $40k per year rate which is UNLIVABLE in LA) or be laid off immediately.

I agreed to move to LA, Rooster Teeth said they would be giving me $5k moving costs to pick up my life and move to LA by March of 2020. The money never was given to me and then COVID forced the company into moving to remote, meaning my job was actually saved by COVID happening.

Crunch during the height of COVID was monstrous. Every department was forced to push out more and more content and do more and more work to make up for “losses” - many of us were working 7 days a week and extremely long hours.

I helped run the 2021 Anniversary Stream Event, but in the middle of production I had to undergo life saving surgery and was told I needed AT LEAST two weeks rest before going back to work. The person I was working with to schedule that event took credit for all the work I did up to that point and then BLAMED ME for anything that went wrong with it because “I wasn’t doing my job” while I was recovering for major surgery and was on mandated medical leave.

BRGs (Business Resource Groups) were created at this time to help with representation issues inside the company. I did everything I could to help the other BRGs as well as the Queer BRG I helped lead. By mid 2021 I was told “we’ve done enough for the queer community” - which hurt to hear as I felt like we had barely accomplished anything and were still struggling to have accurate representation on screen as most of our PRIDE stream events featured mostly Cis/Het talent still.

During this time there was a lot of outspokenness for the mistreatment of minority groups inside of Rooster Teeth from former employees, lots of fans asked “Why didn’t you all do anything about it?”, to which I say actual ground level employees did everything they could. But we could only do so much.

At that moment I asked for transparency for how others, not just one or two employees, were treated in the company - myself included - and was essentially told that “the company is going through a lot right now just leave it alone”. How I was being treated and how others were being treated was once again swept under the rug.

I left Rooster Teeth because, despite thinking I could make positive change in the company, they proved that I couldn’t every step of the way. From 2013 until 2022, I did what I could to help my fellow employees, make positive change, and help the industry.

It’s also worth mentioning that for every bit of VO I did before I left Rooster Teeth, I wasn’t actually paid for any of it under the idea that “I was an employee, so I don’t need to be paid for VO.” In that case and the way it was viewed, I was paid less than $30 per hour for each of my VO sessions. Which is well below any industry standard.

But I was ultimately silenced and pushed aside.

This is all really just the surface level, there’s so much more I want to say but honestly it’s all so exhausting at this point and I’ve done everything I can.

I still struggle regularly with the emotional, mental, physical, and financial damage that was done to me over those years.

There are good people still working there, I’m friends with them, and I wish them the best.

TL;DR

Feb 2013 - Nov 2013. Unpaid Contract Work

Fugz = Fggt, reported to HR nothing was done

2013 Christmas "Bonus" $100. Long time members disapproved of said bonus

14hr work days, rush orders for same or next day videos

"Any time I brought up mistreatment or that “making fun of people in content only encourages the community to hate us” - I was waved away saying “IT’S JUST A JOKE! Ignore the comments!”" RT crunch caused pneumonia, no recovery period on return

Crunched harder, physically isolated "people even IN the company forgot I worked"

RT never fulfilled their deals promotion deals

15 hr work days

2016 came out as Trans, Transphobia harassment started

Acting Manager lied to the community and harassed me, HR did nothing and enabled harassment

Founding Fathers knew and did nothing. Said “too nice to work at Rooster Teeth” and "just quit and find somewhere else to work"

RT did not properly support medical insurance coverage

End 2020 Position Producer/Director, paid $40k. Next lowest paid person was $70k.

2019, forced to move to LA or get laid off. RT never paid moving costs. COVID forced remote jobs thus SAVING my job

RT INCREASES crunch during COVID

2021 Anniversary Stream Event. Had LIFE SAVING surgery, majority work stolen by coworker and blamed production failures on me during MEDICAL LEAVE.

BRG created to help with representation issues, mid 2021 RT said "we've done enough for the queer community" PRIDE stream events still mostly Cis/Het talents

Mistreatment of minorities in RT ignored "“the company is going through a lot right now just leave it alone"

Unpaid for VO work during tenure at RT, May Marigold and RWBY Fairy Tales included.

Handful of good people. Bad Company.

#Rooster Teeth #RT #AH #RTAH #Achievement Hunter

[ophelianated]

I'm too lazy to make it, but:

the Why Do We Have Hands? meme but with Austin from the Prof. Challenger series

#spoilers for prof. challenger series in the tags #mans is giving Heathcliff from Big Hero 6 #he had one (1) fuck to give in his entire life and he chose to give it to that walking life insurance payment of a man #challenger: the world is ending later this evening #austin: very good sir #he finds out that he died for a day along with the entire world #and this bitch's only concerns are a) his car and b) that his employer didn't rob a bank when he had the chance #said employer rolls down the stairs wrestling with a journalist (it's a tuesday) #and he opens the door for them with the same stone face he wore when he let the journalist walk into his doom #ICONIC #i will rob a bank with you bebe #i would die for austin #my little meow meow #he has like ten lines in the entire series and it's honestly criminal

[pucksandpower]

Fit for a Queen

Stand-alone Charles Leclerc x Reader / Lewis Hamilton x Reader / Toto Wolff x Reader / Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: all the ways that you partner loves to spoil you (a compilation of unrelated stories)

Charles Leclerc: His and Hers

You’re parked by the side of a winding road, smoke pouring out from the hood of your old car. As you curse the bad timing, your phone lights up. It’s a call from your boyfriend.

“Hey mon ange, I saw on the tracker that you’ve stopped. Everything alright?”

You sigh, “Not really. My car has decided to give up on life. I’m stranded.”

There’s a brief pause. “Where are you?”

“I was driving back from that little cafe we love in Nice.”

“I’m on my way. Wait for me,” Charles says and before you can protest the line goes dead.

True to his word, in less than twenty minutes, a sleek black Ferrari pulls up in front of you. The window rolls down to reveal Charles’ concerned face. “Need a ride?” He teases.

You laugh, your worries momentarily forgotten. “Always showing off, aren’t you?”

He grins, “Get in.”

Over the next few days, he insists you borrow his Ferrari. “It suits you,” he often remarks with a wink. Every morning, you’re met with the thrill of driving that beast, the roar of the engine, the luxury of the leather seats, the admiring and envious looks from strangers.

It’s heady.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you return home to find Charles waiting for you in the garage. Parked next to his car is a red Ferrari 488 Pista, a striking stripe in the colors of your home country’s flag running down the middle.

“What’s this?” You ask, your heart racing.

“For you,” he replies with a smile. “Figured you needed an upgrade.”

You’re stunned. “Charles ... this is too much.”

He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Nothing is too much for you. I love seeing the way your eyes light up when you drive. I wanted to give you that every day.”

Your eyes tear up, overwhelmed. “Thank you, mon amour.”

He pulls you in, his lips capturing yours as he presses you against the Ferrari. “How about we take it for a spin?” He murmurs against your lips. “And maybe ... christen the new car?”

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you nod in agreement, “I can think of a few ways to show you how much I appreciate the gift.”

Lewis Hamilton: Knight in Shining Armor

“What do you mean they’re foreclosing?” Your voice trembles as you pace the living room of your boyfriend’s penthouse.

“I’m so sorry, my darling. We tried to keep up with the payments but after your father’s medical bills ... it just became too much.” Your mother’s voice is heavy with guilt and despair.

Tears sting your eyes. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.” You end the call, sliding down the wall to sit on the marble floor, overwhelmed.

A discreet cough interrupts your thoughts and you glance up to find Lewis standing in the doorway, looking concerned. You didn’t even see him come in. How much did he hear?

“Babe, are you okay?” He asks softly, approaching you.

You wipe away your tears, attempting to put on a brave face. “It’s just family stuff. I’ll handle it.”

Lewis crouches down in front of you, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. “Talk to me.”

Taking a deep breath, you explain, “My family’s house ... the bank is foreclosing on it. It’s the home I grew up in, Lew. All those memories ...”

He pulls you into his arms as you break down again despite your best efforts, “I’m so sorry.”

A few days pass and you’re doing your best to focus on finding a solution when Lewis calls you into his office. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook Port Hercules but you barely notice, still lost in your churning thoughts. A series of documents are spread out on the desk.

“What’s all this?” You ask, curiosity piqued.

“Just take a look,” Lewis urges with a gentle smile.

You start reading and realization hits. The paperwork states that the mortgage on your family’s home has been fully paid off. You look up at Lewis, incredulous. “Did you ...”

He shrugs modestly, “I overheard your phone call. How could I not help? That house means the world to you. And all it took was a few phone calls to make sure your family could keep it.”

You’re speechless, tears of gratitude spilling over. “Lew, this is ... I can’t believe you did this for me.”

He reaches out, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “I love spoiling you but it’s not just about luxury trips or designer clothes. It’s about making sure you and your family are safe and happy. Knowing I’m the reason for the smile on your face … that’s the best gift I could ever ask for in return.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed by his gesture, and bury your face in his neck. “Thank you. This means more than words can express.”

He kisses your forehead. “Anything for you, love.”

Toto Wolff: Still Bejeweled

The ornate chandeliers of the luxurious Parisian boutique cast reflections from the exquisite jewelry on display. Toto’s hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you peruse the selection, clearly lost in the artistry of each piece.

“That will look stunning on you,” Toto observes as you admire a necklace with delicate diamonds cascading down, each gleaming brighter than the last.

You laugh, “I haven’t even tried it on yet.”

His confident smirk remains. “Doesn’t matter. I can tell.”

On impulse, you ask the sales associate to let you try it on. As it settles around your neck, you can’t help but be mesmerized by its beauty.

Toto steps closer, appreciating the way it lays against your skin. “It’s perfect. Let’s take it.”

You feel a flutter of excitement but reality sets in. “How much is it?”

Toto immediately interjects, “It doesn't matter, we’ll—”

“€290,000. From the Pluie de Cartier collection,” the sales associate replies with a practiced smile.

Your heart sinks. It’s astronomical. You gently take the necklace off. “It’s beautiful but not for me.”

Toto looks at you, eyes filled with an earnest plea. “Let me get it for you.”

You shake your head firmly, “No, Toto. It’s too way much.”

He sighs, a mix of frustration and understanding. “You’re worth every penny and more.”

You smile, touched by his words. “I appreciate it but I’m just not comfortable with you spending that much money on me.”

He nods, respecting your wishes, but the disappointment in his eyes is evident. After browsing a bit more, the two of you make your way out of the store, the necklace you both fell in love with left behind.

Life with Toto is a whirlwind of races, galas, and stolen intimate moments. The necklace, though unforgettable, fades to the back of your mind.

One evening, after a particularly lovely dinner, Toto guides you to the master bedroom you both share. The city lights outside cast a gentle glow and at the foot of your bed is a small red box.

Curious, you open the embellished leather to find the same necklace you had admired weeks ago. Tears spring to your eyes as you spin around to face your partner.

“You didn’t …”

Toto kneels before you as your shaky legs collapse backwards to sit on the bed. “I know you said you didn’t want it. But every time I saw it, I imagined it on you. I saw the glimmer in your eyes when you tried it on. It’s where it belongs.”

You shiver as he takes the necklace from your hands and gently puts it around your neck, his fingers tracing your skin as he locks the clasps together. “Toto, I ... thank you.”

He smiles, placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I just want you to have everything your heart desires.”

You lean into his embrace, the feeling of truly being cherished sending warmth through your whole body. “I already do.”

Max Verstappen: Jet Setters

You’re reclined on the couch, leafing through a magazine with one hand while petting Sassy with the other, when a sudden craving strikes. That gelato from Milan, the one you have whenever you are there with Max for the Italian Grand Prix. The mere thought has your mouth watering.

Seeing your restless expression, Max puts down his tablet and raises an eyebrow. “You alright, schatje?”

You sigh dramatically, cradling your pregnant belly. “I’m craving that gelato we had in Milan. Nothing else will do.”

He chuckles, “Are you serious?”

You nod, trying to suppress a smile. “Very.”

Without missing a beat, Max picks up his phone. “Alright. Milan it is, then.”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking, but within hours, you’re aboard a private jet, Milan-bound. The luxurious interior, plush seats, and array of gourmet snacks would be the highlight for most but your mind is firmly stuck on that gelato.

As the jet descends, the sprawling Lombard countryside greets you. Max holds your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. “Anything for my girls,” he promises, placing a kiss on your forehead and then your belly.

The car waiting for you outside speeds through the crowded streets, bringing you to the familiar storefront in Centro Storico. The owner, recognizing you both, greets you with a wide smile and hands over multiple coolers filled with your favorite flavor that Max called ahead for.

Back on the jet, Milan a fading dot in the distance, you sit contentedly savoring each spoonful as Max watches with a tender smile on his face.

“You could have had any gelato in the world and you chose this one,” he teases.

You grin, “Just like I chose you.”

He leans in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “And I would fly with you to the ends of the earth just to keep that smile on your face.”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #toto wolff x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #charles leclerc imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #toto wolff imagine #max verstappen imagine #f1blr #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc #lewis hamilton #toto wolff #max verstappen #formula 1 #formula one

[ingramjinkins]

 HEY! MAKE A GAME!

Here’s my new free 8-fold I was handing out at the SCAD Minicomic Expo! I’ll have more free copies with me at future shows.

I’ve been dabbling in game making lately using open source & free assets so I wanted to collect everything I’ve learned so far in one place. Coding has been really fun as a hobby since it marries skills I already have with an entirely new way of thinking.

This zine was put together with Electric Zine Maker which I highly recommend to everyone.

EDIT: I have been warned that OHRRPGCE is not good for those with photosensitivity, as it contains huge contrast and flashing. Sorry for the oversight, stay safe.

Transcription in read more

P1

Cover with “HEY! MAKE A GAME!” in big text. Ing’s cat Asher turns around and says “hm?” and then follows up at the bottom with “Isn’t that expensive tho?”. The credits at the bottom read “some thots by Ing”.

P2

A drawing of Ing holding up Asher and talking to him. They say “actually, buddy, there’s quite a few OPEN SOURCE SOFTWARE game engines that are kinda easy to learn!” Asher replies with “so... free? I like free.”

P3

This page is about TWINE. It’s for PC, Mac, Linux and is written in HTML, CSS and Java. Some notable games made with it include Us Lovely Corpses and Egg Baby. Text games, choose your own adventure, and interactive fiction! IN A WEBPAGE!! Asher looks towards the Twine interface while saying “easy!” At the bottom is a note that reads “let me add that learning HTML/CSS is a really great skill to build especially with the growing return to web 1.0 in the face of horrifying social media practices just saying”

P4

This page is about OHRRPGCE. It’s for PC, Mac, Linux and is written in C. A notable game made with it is Franken by Splendidland. Free RPGMaker but more stripped down-- which is good! Was built for creators with no programming knowledge so a great starting place if you just wanna MAKE something. Has its own asset maker built in so you can make the whole thing in the thing. There is a little pixel sprite of Asher in a wizard outfit at the bottom.

P5

This page is about Ren’py. It’s for PC, Mac, Linux and is written in Python. Some notable games are Doki Doki Literature Club! and Butterfly Soup. Ever wanted to make a visual novel, dating sim, or get freaky w it and program a whole simulator? Here u go. Syntax is like writing a screenplay! Extremely accessible (mostly gets difficult when you add branching paths). At the bottom of the page is Asher in a visual novel layout with a text box below him. He’s wearing a suit and petals are floating around him while he blushes. The text box says “A whole can of tuna? For ME?”

P6

This page is about Godot. It’s for PC, Mac, Linux and is written in C. 2D & 3D game dev for basically everything including consoles. This is for WHOLE ENTIRE game development. Much more advanced than the other programs mentioned in this zine & assets must be made outside the program. At the bottom, Asher is playing minigolf and about to make a putt. A notable game is that my brother is making a golf game with it :)

P7

This page starts with a list of Asset Resources. A tiny Ing head at the top says “I have one doll hair” as they hold a dollar looking sadly. The list is as follows: Blender, 3D modeling. Inkscape, making vector images. Atom, simple coding software (recc’d for Ren’py). Unsplash, free images. Freesound, free audio. thepatternlibrary.com, free repeating patterns. itch.io, lots of free/PWYW asset packs are published here! 

The next list is for Paid Software I Like. A little Asher says “Meowby next paycheck...” The list is as follows: Aseprite, for spriting! 1-time payment, powerful but easy to use interface. RPGMaker series, Remember OFF?? Let’s goooo. Sometimes it’s for sale on Steam. Clip Studio, dump Adobe into the sea.

P8

This is the back cover and has the website ingramjinkins.com at the top. Asher has his paws on his face and looks joyous as he thinks about a panicked lizard. He says “Thx ING! Now I can make a game! Maybe one about catching pesky lizards!!” At the bottom there is text that reads “made w/ CLIP STUDIO and alienmelon’s ELECTRIC ZINE MAKER”.

#zine #8fold #8-fold #game dev #zines #electric zine maker #ok these look terrible on the TL lol please click thru

[trivia-yandere]

trivia-yandere's valentine's day masterlist

a collection of short stories - please be mindful that this is a yandere based account and some of the fics (maybe not all) posted on here would have smut, yandere/dark themes, dub-con/non-con scenes/moments, etc. each fic will have their own warnings - please do not skip! some fics will be posted on explicit-tae

payment plan (jin) - your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. yandere | completed (02.01)

dilemma (yoongi) - being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected- especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. completed (02.03)

love you [just a little too much] (hoseok) - you're brought down memory lane. yandere | completed (02.05)

with love, k.nj (namjoon) - your valentine's date with namjoon was a success - too bad you don't know who he truly is. yandere | completed (02.07)

bad decisions (jimin) - you're getting married on valentine's day - but somehow, you allow a stripper to fuck you in front of your bride's maids and maid of honor. completed (02.09)

v-day special (taehyung) - you ask your ex - who you're still close with - if he's willing to come on your cam-show for a valentine's day special. completed (02.12)

nefarious (jungkook) -a look back into your and jungkook's fatal attraction - before the marriage, kids and the detachment. yandere | completed (02.14)

BONUS FICS!!!

little doe (hoseok) - an alternate world in which predator shifters are the top of the shifter hierarchy. it's valentine's day and you, a prey shifter, decide to help a predator through their heat. completed (02.15)

see the future (jungkook) - a look into the future with you and jungkook out of college and soon, down the alter. completed | ungodly hour series

#trivia-yandere #bts smut #btswritingcafe #bangtan smut #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #bangtanwriters net #btswriterscollective #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #jimin smut #jimin x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #jin smut #trivia-yandere valentine's day masterlist #yandere bts #bts yandere

[greycaelum]

imagine past/young gojo and reader go into the future and meet the future gojo and reader with the kids and shi

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Sweet Things }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

2016... The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010. "This is crazy..." Is this even possible? Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

𑁍 Genre: fluff, time-leap

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.4k)—/ glimpse of teen Satoru, teen reader, the reader got sucked in a curse's domain, clingy Satoru—/

𑁍 A/N: For some reason, there seems to be a number that likes this trope (I have two more of the same request in the inbox). This is not my forte, so sorry for the very long wait dear. I'll post the next part in Satoru's POV. This will be a three-shot I guess.

"Neh, can you fight?" A 19-year-old Satoru held his breath as he asks the girl he's been wanting to talk to for years now. "I can train you," he added.

"No, but if you do that stunt again I'm gonna knee you where the sun doesn't shine." You smiled sweetly at the male, contrasting with the blank look in your eyes. 

Satoru's heart only shivered. Please, you have to stop being so adorable it's making his heart go batshit pounding.

"Yaga-san, I'm going. Please wire my payment to the usual account." You bowed at the older male chanting to let down a curtain. You move to get out before the partition touched the ground.

"Oi!" Satoru almost choked on himself watching you turn your back on him. Not so fast pretty girl. Not when he's spent years looking at you from afar. He stopped you and handed over the blue folding umbrella.

"Sorry about that, I'm Gojo Satoru, and take this. It's going to rain," Satoru smiled and reach for your hand, depositing the umbrella before you could reply, and ran back into the curtain. He bit his lips, grinning to himself so badly he feels like he wants to roll on the ground. Damn it! You're just so cute. Seconds later small droplets started to fall.

That was how you "first" met the annoying but thoughtful menace. But little did you know...

Little by little he meets you more frequently in the missions, being a window, you're the first in the scene before the managers and sorcerers arrive. And it was supposed to be a normal mission and the sorcerers were just a bit late when you got entangled in the domain, with no way out. Just when your eyes are fully engulfed in the bottomless pit, a dash of white hair rushes forward and a shout called you.

"Y/n! Wake up, hey grab on me!" A crisp profanity flew out of the rude mouth. You swam into consciousness and gasped for oxygen.

You thought you're gonna die. That wasn't the first time you put down a curtain for a special grade curse but it sure will be the closest you get to dying. The curse messes up space and time. After regaining your breath, your eyes fluttered open and met the thick foliage of trees staring back at you.

The sound of loud children nearby occupied your hearing as you swam into full consciousness. This is Jujutsu Tech's grounds, the scenery is familiar but you don't know where it will lead since Master Tengen's barrier changes every day leading to different kinds of places to keep intruders from invading the school.

You started walking until you find yourself at the door of the mountain, towards the city. You look down at your dirty clothes and sighed. Perhaps getting a shower first makes sense. You hailed a cab and gave your address.

"!?"

The three-story building you're living in is nowhere and it was replaced by a fancy-looking cafe.

Les Sucreries

"What is going on?" You remember walking up and going out of your apartment this morning. You can't be in the wrong place since the ice cream parlor you love is right in front and a few blocks is the cafe you are working on part-time. 

"Ah, Miss. If you'd like please check out this flier it's time-limited so make sure to drop your entry!" A lad skip up to you and extended a flier then ran away.

Free Bouquet for the first three visitors... Fleur-de-Lis Bouquets. Only until July 27, 2016...

2016...

The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010.

"This is crazy..." Is this even possible?

Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

If in 2016 your apartment is not there anymore... Does that mean you finally got to buy your own house? What course did you take in college? Did you finally get a decent boyfriend?

A blush rose to your face. Why of all things did you have to think of that? You should first find a way home before worrying about that. Maybe going back to Jujutsu Tech will help. You started walking in the direction of the college.

The cafe door opened and a lady in a barista's apron peeked outside. The baby she's carrying on her hip calmed down when she walked out of the cafe. 

"Did you see someone we know Kou-chan?" The lady chuckled as she tickled her baby boy with striking white hair while he tried to babble and pointed his chubby finger at the lady walking away.

"Mama..."

"Mnn? Mama's right here sweetheart." 

II

Ahhh, this is crazy. The Tokyo of 2010 and Tokyo of 2016 look so alike and not at the same time.

You walked and walked and stopped.

That striking white hair that stands out of the crowd, lanky figure, and cool minty scent. The man is walking on the other side of the road and stopped on the red lights.

"Gojo?"

Your hands immediately flew to cover your mouth. He's wearing a weird white bandage over his eyes and his hair is fluffed up by the constricting cloth. But it's him! He looks just a 'bit' more handsome and mature...

Shit! You smacked your head. This is not the time for those thoughts.

And you'd never admit it to him or else his ego will gloat and you won't hear the end of it. Sometimes you wonder if ever someone has duct taped his mouth because he's so noisy and annoying.

Anyways, you can't help but trail after Gojo. Surely he'll help you if you just approach him. Everyone says he has a bad personality but when you first met him, he may sound condescending yet he ran after you to give you an umbrella because it was going to rain. That was thoughtful of him.

He's not that so bad... You thought and sighed. He may have the answer on how you could come back home. But at the same time, you're a little curious about how he turned out 6 years later. Just a little curious. After you're satisfied you'll approach him!

Come to think of it... Is he married? He should be 24 right now... It's quite young to be married yet but knowing that he came from the Gojo Clan and on top he's the heir it's not surprising if he already has an arranged marriage partner.

What does she look like? She must have a very unique curse technique and be from a prestigious clan.

Argh! Stop thinking about that Y/n. I need to go home. You steeled your thoughts.

Mustering up your courage you ran to the nearest pedestrian line and ran after Gojo but he walks damn fast.

"Damn, those lanky legs." You panted and look around only to realize you're back to where you were before. 

Les Sucreries

That's French... The name fits Gojo very much.

What is he doing here? Overcame by curiosity, you entered the cafe and sat on the farthest table. Will he recognize you?

That was when a woman came down the stairs, wearing a plain brown apron. She didn't notice you because she was focused on the man leaning on the stairs. The man was Gojo.

And the woman... was you...?

Your jaw dropped and took another look at the woman's face. It's definitely you!

It's just that your hair is longer and your body is more mature. And there's the palpable wedding band on your left ring finger.

But that's definitely "you" standing beside the strongest sorcerer, with his hands wrapped around "your" waist as he tries to sneak a kiss.

W-What happened?

Your heart was pounding and slowly regretted entering the cafe. Not in your wildest dreams did you think this would even be a possibility. I-Is he your h-husband?

So you got married. And not just married!

You're married to Gojo.

What were you thinking?! Ahhhhh! You felt your heart like a dying fish removed from the water. This isn't real... You could feel your soul escaping from your body.

You looked up and blue eyes met you. The same arrogant smirk on his lips and he whispered something to "your" ear and kissed her temples before walking towards your direction. The future "you" went up the stairs, still uninformed that her six years younger self is here.

"You blushing Y/n-chan?" He chimed and sat on the chair across from you, flashing a devilish grin. "So... how did my lil' teen crush get here?"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld

#kaleidoscope series #c&mchapters #married gojo fluff #gojo satoru x wife #gojo satoru x reader #jjk married gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo kouki #gojo x you #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #husband gojo x wife reader #teen gojo satoru #teen reader

[toji-girl]

obsessed | t. fushiguro

synopsis: You were super grateful that you could buy off your landlord with your used panties when late on rent until he wants more than just the discarded fabric.

wc: 1.9k

tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + fem reader + dark content + repost from my old blog + not beta read + pervy! Toji + male masturbation + teasing + nipple play + dirty talking + degradation both receiving + unprotected sex + backshot + dry humping + switch you and Toji + pussy job + cum play + impact play + maybe femdom? I don’t know but adding in case + dubcon in the end but I promise you do want it + any missing tag lmk! + feedback such as comments and reblogs are helpful

AN: I almost want to make a few parts to this...like a series?

Another plastic ziplock bag full of your used underwear was placed at Toji’s door, thankfully you always disguised it to look like a regular package, however, no one knew in the apartment building that you had to pay your rent with your panties.

You looked around and made sure no one was looking as you went back to your apartment feeling your skin crawl with disgust at yourself liking the fact that he was going to jerk off with them later.

Your landlord was incredibly attractive, and that’s something you couldn’t deny as much as you wanted to, it was impossible, the way he fills out those t-shirts makes you shiver wondering what he looked like naked?

That stupid smirk he always wore when he saw you only got wider whenever he saw you around the apartment. 

“I didn’t receive my payment, where are my panties?” He asked leaning against the other mailboxes catching you one morning, he looked bigger in the cramped area of the boxes lining the walls, which in turn only made you feel much smaller.

You flipped through the useless papers before looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. 

“You mean my panties? Are you wearing them? I was going to gather them up before my shift at work, and I gave you two extra pairs last week. Why are you asking for more?”��You asked clearly annoyed.

Toji stayed silent with that famous smirk, the scar lifting up when he leaned into where you could smell the minty gum he chewed on earlier, his lips almost brushing against the shell of your ear.

“We made a deal, and I expect you to keep up on it. Yeah?” His hand coming down to play with your skirt. 

“It was only supposed to be for a bit, not this long. Why don’t you go bug some of the other tenants?” 

He hummed like he was thinking about it before shaking his head. “They’re all paid up, plus none of them are as pretty as you are.” 

His finger came up grazing your neck making you almost squeak, because dammit, it was hot the way he made you feel this way, his large palm was bigger than your face, and you shrank back looking at him feeling warmth crawl between your legs and up your neck. 

You watched him frowning trying to throw him off, the last thing you needed was for him to know you enjoyed this, gripping the envelopes in your hand knowing you’d be a little late to work but if he wanted your panties, you were going to give them to him and maybe this would be the last time, what was only supposed to be for two months at max has now stretched into six. 

Almost everyone could hear you stomping up the stairs to your door where you pushed it open heading straight for your bedroom, as much as you hated to admit it, knowing Toji was a little pervert like this and only for you set a switch off in your head because you were perverted like him.

You formulated a plan quickly while setting your last pair by his doorstep before heading to work. 

It didn’t take long for Toji to come knocking on your door later the next night, he was needy for you, and it sucked that he had to depend on you to get his orgasm. He rapped his knuckles against your door waiting for you to answer and when you did his dick throbbed harder between thick thighs. 

You wore a see-through robe, and a sultry pink laced set that complimented your skin and body, Toji whistled through his teeth stepping inside your apartment unknowingly setting the trap and kicking the door shut behind him. “Wow, is this how you greet all your guests?” He asked tugging on the bow you tied in front. 

“Only certain ones, but tonight was meant for a special someone, a date if you must. I have your last package.” You told him seeing the immediate look of disdain on his face, then jealousy made his lips pucker almost as he slid his hands in his pockets. 

You turned to head to your room feeling him grab your wrist gently before you were pulled into him. “A date? I don’t think he could easily please you, someone of your caliber.” 

“My caliber? What do you mean by that?” You asked genuinely curious letting his hands caress your back and hips and waist lifting your robe up to snap the band of your panties. 

He chuckled pressing his lips against the shell of your ear making you shiver. “Someone who pretends not to like my teasing, putting up a bitchy front knowing that you’re a pervert, just like me.” He nibbled on your lobe making you curl your fingers in his shirt gasping softly. 

His hand now sliding down your back to squeeze your ass before playing with your thong pulling it between the globes more and kicking your legs apart with his foot letting you staddle his thigh pretty much at this angle, Toji took his sweet time in feeling you up letting you dry hump him now. 

“I am not a pervert, I don’t get off on by sniffing panties.” You told him grinding on his thigh and reaching your hand down to cup his bulge with a slight moan, because again dammit, you were now letting him do whatever it was as you gave him the same treatment sliding your hand in his boxers. 

Toji groaned as you stroked him before pulling your hand out and pushed him onto your couch, he landed with a soft thud spreading his legs and putting both arms behind it watching you slowly remove your robe and letting it pool around your ankles. “This will be our thing, no more panties.” 

He nodded not really believing you, there was no way you were going to leave him alone after this, just as much as he’s obsessed with you he can tell you want him just as bad, so he watched you slowly strip moving your hips until you were naked with your panties balled up in your hand as you lowered down until you were sat in Toji’s lap. 

His hands landed on your hips squeezing them between thick fingers and leaning in to kiss your breasts, Toji wrapped his lips around your nipple sucking it in his hot mouth letting you rub your bare pussy against his jeans before you were tugging on his belt and unbuttoning his pants. 

“Such a slut for cock, aren’t you?” He teased squeezing your tits and pushing them together kissing the spilling flesh from his thick fingers, his tongue laved every inch almost as you rutted against him moaning and panting while trying to pull his dick free. 

It was adorable how quickly he fell for it, all he needed to think was he was going to get his dick wet, and in a way, he was but not the way he originally thought. You grinned down at him prying his mouth open with your fingers hooked in the corner of his lips. 

You shoved the lacy thong into his mouth. “Such a slut for my panties, aren’t you?” You sneered down at him running your fingers through his hair, you panted due to the temperature in the living room and the work you put into rubbing your pretty cunt against his dick. 

Toji wanted to feel you hot and tight around him but you were in control this way, keeping his cock pressed flush against the lips of your pussy now rubbing up and down looking at him. 

“You really can’t help yourself. A dirty boy who gets off on jerking off with used panties? You’re so disgusting.” 

His eyes went cross at your filthy words, usually, when people get called stuff like that they’d shrink away and even tear up, but no, Toji just proved you right nodding his head and sucking on your underwear like a pussy drunk frat boy who’s felt a cunt for the first time. 

You could feel the tip of his cock press against your hole and as much as you wanted the relief of him fucking you, because you knew it would be big and you weren’t proven wrong it wasn’t time to throw your own plan overboard so instead you just continued to give him a pussy job. 

His fingers dug into your hips helping you come so close to his own release watching you wither on top of him as you held his shoulders shuddering feeling your pussy throb wanting to suck him in, instead you pulled your panties from his mouth letting them fall down to his lap. 

“There’s your final payment, now I don’t want to see you again asking for them.” You told him watching him pant and lean back shaking his head with that infamous smirk. 

He grabbed your panties stuffing them in his pocket and looking at you. “I won’t be the one asking for anything, you’re going to be the one coming to me when you need to be dicked down, I saw that look in your eyes. You wanted to fuck me.” 

You tugged on your robe glaring at the older man rolling your eyes. “If I did then I would have, I don’t need you-” 

Whatever else you were going to say before you were bent over the arm of your couch, you could feel Toji resting his cock on your ass before rutting against you holding your hips and aiming himself at your fluttering hole pushing in and you pushed back letting him.

Your feet slid against the carpet as he buried himself deep, all the way to the hilt with a long drawn-out moan, your name melted off his tongue like butter in a pan as he spanked your ass gently, his hand going downward in motion. “So much talk for someone who just takes dick easily like this, I just slid inside this cute pussy of yours." 

The flesh of your ass stung slightly but it only melted into pleasure that buzzed feeling him split you open on him, his dick thick and long made your toes curl then he rubbed fast circles on your clit grinning down at you grinding yourself against him like a dog in heat. 

You hated yourself for wanting him to fuck you like this, and you hated it more that he was right. 

“You have a small dick!” You hurled the insult at him while panting gripping the couch for dear life. 

Toji smirked and threw his head back howling with laughter as he picked up the pace angling his knees to go deeper, his leaky tip kissing your cervix in this position. “Yeah? Then why the fuck are you panting and mewling like a bitch in heat?” 

You hate him, the way he was able to make you feel and how you enjoyed it, the way his hands roamed all over your body squeezing and groping as he fucked you hard and fast from behind, his balls swinging as he put one foot on the arm of the couch holding your hips now. 

It was brutal the way he bullied your cunt, not with any care in the world as you arched your back moaning his name begging to cum again which only made him chuckle as he felt his own rise up, he pulled out jerking himself off using your slick as a lube to cum on your back. 

He panted and rubbed it on your skin as if it were lotion while he watched you sag on your couch, your legs almost giving out as he petted your back with a smirk. “You look good covered in my cum, I’ll see you later I’m sure.” He said with a grin patting your ass. 

After you heard your door click shut did you realize that maybe, Toji was right, you’d be crawling back to him. 

#tw: dark content #tw: dubcon #tw: degradation #Toji smut #Toji x reader smut #Toji x y/n smut #Toji Fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk Toji smut #jjk x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader smut #toji x you smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #fushiguro toji x reader smut #fushiguro toji x you smut #toji x yn smut #toji x you #toji x reader #Toji x reader #Toji Fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you

[aphroditesmoon]

lacrymosa [part 1]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 2

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: basically pjo plot in a different font, wlw relationships and what that entails, artist!reader. warnings will be according to the chapter.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: part 2 will hv more clarisse, also I've never been good at finishing series, but here's to an attempt! Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

The violent wind coming from outside of the car window sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You readjust your sitting position, pushing your school bag further away from you.

"Would you like to close the window, miss?" The driver asked, sparing a glance to your way. "No, it's fine." You assured him.

You have always liked the cold, it calms your nerves in a way. And for a day like this, you need all the help you can get.

Your father hadn't even been home to see you off for the last time. But you were kind of grateful for that. Usually you'd find it upsetting. But it was a clear decision that he purposely wanted you out of his line of vision when he had registered you into this boarding school.

Prestigious and highly acclaimed, he called it. Those were just polite words for strict and overbearing.

You have stopped wasting time trying to figure out why he hates you. Your mother dying from your birth was only the tip of the iceberg. Your whole existence is a burden to him, no matter how hard you've tried to change it.

I wonder if I'll even miss the hostility he's always given me, or the empty white walls of his mansions that have seen me at my worst and at my best. Those thoughts shouldn't matter anymore, you told yourself.

You've never been happy in that house, but familiarity, sometimes, was better than nothing. You fiddled with your crimson red tie that came with the uniform. What you could tell from the way you're dressed along with the down payment your father had to pay for you is that this place is an exaggerated babysitting place for rich kids with attitude problems.

You've been sent to many places away from your father. Summer camp, Spring camp, summer school and all that. But nothing this far away.

As per your research, the school seemed to be located far from the city and near the mountains up north. There are two buildings divided by gender that stands a few meters away from each other. Not that it'd be a problem for you. You've never been interested in boys much.

It was sunny earlier on the road, but the nearer you are to your destination, the cloudier the sky gets. "Looks like it's about to rain." You mumbled to yourself.

"That's normal here, miss. The weather here's always cold." The driver spoke from the front. You hadn't realized that he heard what you said.

It was a few minutes later when you finally see a large building from a distance. The view lived up to it's reputation even from a far. You feel your heart sinking into a stomach, the anxiety worsening.

This was it. This will be your home for the next 2 or 3 years.

Your driver speeds up once drizzling rain begins to fall down from the sky. You allow him to close the window from his seat and lower down the ac.

Feeling your fingers pruning up, you rub your palms together for warmth after reaching for your bag, pulling it closer to you.

The weather wasn't going to be a problem, and hopefully the people here won't be too.

---

When the car slowed down in front of the entrance, you let yourself take in the view of it all, girls ranging from your ages to younger, walking past of sitting by the stairs. All of them wearing the same thing that you are.

You didn't mean to make the driver open the door for you, but he did anyways as you're too distracted to stop him.

He moves straight to the back to retrieve your other bags as you step out of the vehicle. Some of the girls stopped and stared at you, knowing how rare it is to have new students here.

You couldn't tell what lies behind their long glares and gazes, but you had a feeling that they were eyeing you up like a predator does to their prey. Focusing on the large cream and white colored building staring you down, your heart whispered out a hopeful wish that you could just get back in the car and drive off.

You fix up your plaited skirt and turn towards your driver. "Do you need help to bring these in?" He asks.

You shook your head, immediately taking them into your hands. "No, I got it. But thank you." He smiled warmly as he shut the car hood close. "Have a great year, miss." He tells you politely before walking back to the driver's seat.

And that was the last familiar face you'll ever see for the rest of the semester. You lift up your hand in a tiny wave as you watch him reverse and drive off from the school ground.

You see him wave back before he finally disappears for good.

The staircase made it harder for you and your bags, and if you were expecting any kind eyes to offer some help, none came to it. Instead they all looked at you like you were stupid.

You counted the steps under your breath, stopping when you reached number 5, and then starting back again from 1. It was also an effort to keep your anxiety together, but at certain times like these, you wondered if breathing exercises are all lies made up by a psychiatrist to worsen someone symptom and continue to drive them crazy.

After a couple series of 1 to 5s, you finally made it to the top of the stairwell and into the open doors of the school.

If the rain outside hadn't been freezing your toes, inside was much more brutal. The school is air conditioned, of course it is.

When you said you liked cold, you didn't mean the frozen kind. The strawberry pink socks you're wearing aren't doing you any favors either as you breath out a tired sigh, full hands dragging your bags with you until you reach a tiny counter with the label "office" above the glass.

A teacher, or a guardian, sits inside, working on some paperwork. She looked up when she heard the rolling sound of the wheels on your bag and offered a small smile.

"You're new here, I take it?" You nodded your head and pursed your lips tightly. "Can I have your name?"

You gave her the information needed, from yoir name to your birth certificate. And once she's done compiling the necessary paperworks into a file, she stacks it in the shelves behind her.

"Here's your class schedule, and here's your dorm key." You slid the key onto your pocket and slipped the paper under your arms as you listened to her explaining how the dorm building is in a complete other side of this place, and that you'd have to drag your bags back down the lengthy staircase and walk another 6 minutes towards the other building on the left of the school. Not to be mistaken with the boy's dorms on the right.

You ignored the continuous staring from the other student as you forced yourself down again, and into the left.

The road to the dorm was nicely designed, a straightly drawn black and white concrete pavement in squares with grass on its side. It made the place look more homely. But of course, it wasn’t really gonna fool anyone.

The dragging became easier on the ground. You thanked the gods once you got to the other building once you spotted an elevator. Your first thought was, oh thank fuck for these rich assholes. And your second thought was, oh these are some real rich assholes.

There are less staring here since mostly everyone is already in school. You took your time walking once you're out of the elevator, reading the large signs of the dorm level names.

There are 20 levels to be accurate. And yours, unfortunately, is level 20.

You stood up straight in that elevator for what felt like a whole 10 minutes until it dinged open. Finding your room was much easier, you didn't have to walk very far to find your door. You used the key given to you to unlock the doors and pushed your bags into the room first before you.

You halted for a minute when you met with two strange girls from the inside.

Your roommates apparently have not gone to their classes yet and are still here. They looked at you expectantly as you stared right back.

"Uh-" your daydreams broke. "I'm new here." You announced.

One of the two laughed slightly and shook their head. "We know, we were waiting for you. I'm Harper, and this is Olivia." They extended their hands and you shook them without question.

"So, where'd you come from?" Olivia asks. She had beautiful green eyes and wavy blonde hair. Harper on the other hand, had dark hair and bold blue eyes. Next to each other, the two looks quite the pair. You began rearranging your bags on your side and taking out important things needed for your classes as you answer their inquiries. "New York."

"A city girl, that's nice. The difference here must be jarring." You snorted whilst you hang your clothes on to your small closet. "Very."

They walked out with you once you were done unpacking, leading you back to the school.

"The teachers won't mind you being late, with you being new and all that. But make a habit out of it and you'll get a penalty for it." Harper explained. "Penalty?"

They both nodded and kept on walking up towards the entrance. "Attendance is very important, this isn't public school, lying about health problems to get out of class or skip and disappear for more than 3 times, you could get expelled."

That is insane, you thought. "I didn't know they're that strict." Harper smirked and shrugged at that. "Yeah, I mean unless you're a legacy student, or your parents donate a lot for the school, you won't get many benefits."

Of course, even among the rich, the most privileged still get to escape justice and fairness. "Are you both legacy students?"

"No." Olivia snorted. "What's your locker number?" She takes a peek at your papers and moved right to your locker, opening it with ease.

"Thanks." You tell her while shoving your books inside of it.

"There aren't many legacy students here." Harper spoke from your side, referring back to your question from earlier.

"There are only certain families with histories deeply rooted within the school walls, like Luke Castellan or Silena.”

Your brows raises at those names as the three of you leaned back on the lockers. "Let me guess, they're brats who can get you expelled?"

"Worse." Olivia corrected with a sarcastic smile. "They can do whatever shit they want to you, and will not get expelled for it."

"But don't worry, half of them are decent, just don't piss them off and they'll leave you alone." You nod in understanding, knowing that it was your plan anyways, even if they hadn't warned you.

"Luke's not even entitled or mean, he's actually pretty nice. He helped me take out a book from the library once." Olivia added, wiggling her brows.

"You're just saying that because you like him." Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Even if I didn't, he's still not an ass." The bell rang the minute her sentence was finished. The two girls groaned and started saying their goodbyes before they parted ways to attend their classes.

"Meet up back for lunch?" Harper initiates. "Sure." You told her before following her directions to pre Calculus.

Your brain still hadn't fully registered what just happened. You just made two new friends, and that is a relief. Though you enjoy your alone time along with some quiet and peace, that doesn't mean you don't get lonely or feel isolated. Having bad social skills doesn't exactly equate to joy wanting a social life at all.

You walk into the half filled classroom and scan the space for an empty seat.

Some kids up front started whispering to themselves as they watched you from the corner of their eyes, but none of them tried speaking to you directly.

You flinch when you heard the teacher's voice, booming through the classroom as she enters right behind you. "You're the new girl?" She drops her bag onto her chair and looked you directly in your eyes.

"Yes." The teacher hummed to herself and turned towards her other students. "Do we have any empty seats at the back?" She asks loudly.

"There's one, but it's Chase's." A boy responded. "He's not in today, is he?" He shook his head at her.

"Alright, you can sit there temporarily, I'll ask the boys to bring in an extra table and chair for you tomorrow." You thanked her and walked right to your seat.

Grateful to be seated at the last row by the window, you slumped against the chair, relaxing your back.

The kids at the front stop wasting their time twisting their heads to stare at you, and as the class begins, you tell yourself that maybe this isn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

-

Your first class ever had been less exciting than expected. You had spent the last 20 minutes of the class trying not to doze off.

Barely any sleep came to you last night, considering how nervous you were for this day. All the worries you've had were for nothing, so far it's all been a bore, and all you wanted to do was to crawl back on to your bed at home and escape all of this strangeness.

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself. You've been all alone your whole life, how different is it now?

The girl on the seat next to yours had craned her neck in your direction, trying to peek through your notebook. Instinctively, you closed over it with your arm.

She did not need to see how there are zero equations in your notebook, all replaced with doodles of flowers and frogs.

When all is hopeless, your passion is where you turn to. Life is suffering in parts, but you find that being able to make it into art, makes the suffering less painful, or at least, more manageable.

Your father had never liked how you prefer to spend your time in art class over piano. In fact, when you were much younger, he even took the initiative to throw out all of your sketchbook. You had to find time to practice your drawing when you aren't at home, knowing his ignorance for your privacy.

But here, hopefully, you'll have ample time to draw and paint.

Once the class is dismissed, you make your way straight into the bathroom, trying to get into a booth before it gets crowded. You caught a glimpse of your reflection from the mirror and cringed at yourself. For some reason, even when you're not doing anything, the school air still finds a way to turn your hair frizzy.

You ran into the small space with open doors and knocked it shut as soon as you're in.

You could hear footsteps entering in right after you're done peeing. A cacophony of running sink water and empty chatter fills your ears as you stood up to fix your skirt and your socks.

The zip of your skirt seemed to have an issue getting stuck on a piece of string, holding it back from fully zipping up. You lifted it up higher and pulled the string out before using your teeth to rip it off of the zip and waving it onto the floor.

There was a moment of silence outside the door just before you were going to exit it. But a loud sound of slamming doors and laughter stops you at your place.

"Lock the doors." You hear another female voice command. She was not shouting, but she had a bold voice that seemed fit for a leader, straight to the point and confident.

Any noise of giggling or chatting immediately died down the moment the girl and her friends stepped in, and now you wonder if getting out would be a good idea at all. So you stayed quiet inside the bathroom.

Your palms are held against the door while you lean into it, trying to hear her clearer.

"What did I tell you last week?" The girl spoke again. She sounded upset or the second worst thing, disappointed.

Another voice rose up in response, meeker in comparison. "You said to have it by Monday."

"It's Wednesday today."

"But I have it now!" The other girl pleaded. "I don't care. I asked for it on Monday, you're two days late." The silence that came after her words was worrying. It was only when she spoke again that you felt your racing heart slowing down.

"You know what you're gonna do right now?" She asks. Silence. "You're going to hand me the money, and then you're going to give me 20 on the ground, right here."

20 what? You frowned in confusion. Money?

You expected resistance, begging, or even defiance from the other girl, but you only heard a resigned sigh from the other side of the door.

The door creaked slightly. You tried to balance yourself away from it when you accidentally slipped. Your fingers reach for the door handle to pull yourself up, and just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the door slams back on its hinges. You cursed yourself internally.

"What the fuck." The first girl snapped. "Booth number 2." She called out. "Get out of there right now or I'll break the door now."

Your breath hitches at the direct interaction and your hands hesitate to unlock the booth. But you'd rather get it over with than risk being taunted in a toilet.

You unlatch the lock with your fingers and slowly pull open the door. The first face you're met with is the one you assume who had addressed you seconds ago.

She had a naturally terrifying expression, with her brows knitted together and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. The bronze skinned girl connecting her gaze to yours.

The staring did not last as she soon started eyeing you up and down like she's analyzing every bad decision you've ever made.

But when she lifts her head back up to your face, you noticed that her frowning had lessened slightly. "You're new." She states aloud.

"How'd you know?" You ask her. "Anyone who's been here for more than a week would have the mind to run out of the bathroom as soon as they heard me." She answered coolly, taking a few steps nearer to you.

"What's your name?" She asks you. You tell her your first name.

She hums in acknowledgement before repeating your name, letting the syllables roll against her tongue. "I assume you haven't been making any friends yet, have you?"

You tried not to look to her side at the girl that was currently half squatting on the floor. "You're making her do push ups." You think aloud, ignoring her question.

"What? Oh, her? She's not important, and she's lucky i’m only making her do 25." The girl waved off like it's a silly joke. "I thought you said 20?" The other girl muttered under her breath.

She snapped her head at the younger girl and glared at her. "One more word and I'll make it 30."

Turning her head back to you, the anger she bore dissolved. "It's a good thing you've met me," she started. "In this place, it's all about making the right type of friends, just in case and not enemies."

"I don't plan on making enemies." You tell her. She was trying to intimidate you. Or at least, ruffle your feathers.

"No one does, but they just do it anyways without realizing." She answers with a shrug.

"And I suppose, if I'm with you, I won't fall down that road?" You didn't mean for it to sound insulting or sarcastic, but when she raised a brow in response, a ghost of smirk over her face, you realized that it was too late to take back your words.

"No, you won't. Because I am that enemy that you should be avoiding." You wondered if she is one of those people that's all talk and no bite, but the way she's folding her arms together as she stands inches away from you, radiated something much more sinister than you'd expect from a typical bully.

"I have to go." You say suddenly, a sense of urgency filled you when you remembered that Harper and Olivia would be waiting for you in the cafeteria. "I won't tell anyone about this." You added, trying to make sure there'd be no bad blood between the two of you.

"You can tell anyone you'd like, it wouldn't matter." She replies, stepping away from you to lean her back on the sink counter.

You clicked your heels away from her and made your way out, taking off the locks before you could swing the door open. You could feel her gaze on you as you left, but didn't twist your head back to confirm.

It didn't matter who she was. A few hours from now you'd forget you even met her, and just like always, you'll blend in with the crowd and be out of her sight.

---

"Where have you been?" Harper inquired once you sat next to her.

She had half a donut in her mouth as she asked this. "Don't talk with your mouth full." You chided her. She groans and mumbles something else you can't understand but chews the food until she's finished before she speaks again.

"We waited for like 10 minutes, you know recess isn't that long." You took a bite of your own sandwich and shrugged at her like nothing. "I was in the bathroom, there was a line." Harper nodded in understanding, but Olivia made a face of disgust as she toyed with her food.

"I hate the bathroom here, the dorm bathrooms are better." She said.

"What if you really need to pee?" You ask in disbelief. "I hold it in."

"What if you had explosive diarrhea?"

"Well, that would suck." Harper chokes out laugh, trying not to spit out her donut. You joined her with a chuckle, shaking your head at your friend.

"Your fear of public bathrooms will be the death of you." Harper quipped after taking a long sip of water. "I think it makes me stronger." Olivia argues.

"Well, I think it's gonna mess with your bladder." The brunette argues back. You listen to their back and forth until the bell rings again, indicating the end of recess.

You were a bit bummed that your classes aren't aligned with theirs, your nerves are much less triggered when they're around, a sense of familiarity of a sort.

Though, there was nothing you can do about it. You say your goodbyes at your lockers and parted ways again for your last 2 classes. The rest of school time was made bearable with the reminder that you at least shared rooms with your two new friends, and so there was nothing to worry about at all actually.

A part of you feels safer when you're around them. Though your mind is constantly bringing up the girl you've met in the bathroom. Her brown eyes and the way she looked at you.

She didn't strike you as someone admirable, but you had to admit, her features were remarkable. You had pulled out a pencil and a paper for a quick sketch of her eyes during Literature class.

It only hit you then, that you haven't even asked for her name. She knew yours, but you didn't know hers.

What would it matter? You asked yourself. If all goes well, you'll never see her for the whole semester at all. And she'd be nothing more than another face in your sketchbook.

You paid attention to the lesson, but your hands just needed something to work on while you were listening. Tapping your fingers repeatedly on the table was getting old, so you got productive and drew up a little something.

You had managed only half of her face on the paper by the time the class ended. Slipping the book into your tote bag, you follow the rush of students leaving class and heading back to your locker to switch your books for the last class.

-

It was 8pm when you were finally in the dorm elevator, back against the cold silver metal, relieving the warmth that radiated off of your body. The gym here is open all day and night, and even if the only equipment they had was a treadmill, you intended to utilise them fully.

Working out helps to take your mind off things, and it tires you out enough to help you sleep easier at night.

And so while everyone went back to their dorms, you stashed your bag by the gym entrance and tied your hair back up and went ahead for a good 40 minutes run.

You kept your eyes on the elevator level, watching the number get higher and higher until it eventually reached 20. It dinged open and allows you out with your poor tired feet and worn out expression.

It was quiet on the top floor, nothing like you’d predict what with the hour still being early. The small light bulbs above your head led you straight down the long corridor until you reached your room.

You took out your key and slashed it into the keyhole and heard your friends’ voices evolving from muffled noises into a clearer state as you pushed the door open.

You expected the girls to scold you over your absence again, as you do make it a habit of going places without letting them know, but what you didn't expect once you enter your dorm room, is for them to genuinely fret over your late arrival.

"You can't just disappear without telling anyone!" Olivia exclaimed, her large green eyes staring into your soul as you took your uniform off. "I was at the gym." You explained.

“In your school clothes?” Harper scrunches her nose in disagreement. “Hey, it's convenient.” You retorted.

"Were there other people there?" You shook your head no. "Well, maybe next time we'll go with you. I know you're not used to the unspoken rules here, but there are seriously more creeps than you can imagine in this place."

They were both sitting on their beds as they're talking to you, fully dressed in their matching pajamas like twins.

Harper had a face mask on as she rested her head on her pillows, her elbows used to help her sit up. They had music playing in the background, a song you recognized as Tourniquet by Evanescence. “I love this song.” You say randomly.

“Don’t change the subject.” You look over at them in confusion once you're finished changing.

"I didn't know it'd be such a big deal, I'm doing what everyone else does."

"I know, but I'm just saying, maybe we should all just play it safe for the semester. We don’t want another Samara accident." Harper reasoned.

You walked over to sit by the edge of her bed and asked her who's Samara.

"Samara Turner. She's a senior from last year. Some kid found her passed out by the back garden, her eyes were rolled back, and she was basically frothing from the mouth. When the ambulance came, it was too late. She was gone."

“Are you just making this up to scare me?” You ask them suspiciously. “No!” Olivia denies. “It's a real story, the teachers covered it up real good for future students, not even the news got a hold of Samara's fate.”

"Does anyone know what really happened?" You questioned them.

"The police ruled it as an overdose, but I can't imagine any type of drug running through her veins. And also, in the garden? That's just weird." Olivia says, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You guys think someone drugged her?" Harper shrugged and pursed her lips, inconclusive.

"Either way. It happened when she was alone. What was she even doing in the garden late at night? No one knows. But everyone will point their finger right back at her and say it's her own fault." You understood what they meant. This place isn't as picture perfect as it seemed, just like any other place, it has its holes and flaws.

"Okay, the next time I'm going anywhere other than my classes, I'll let one of you know." Harper and Olivia smiled and looked relieved. You could tell they were satisfied by your answer. "And if we're going anywhere, we'll tell you."

"Okay." You assured them.

You've never really known what it was like to have people worry over you this way. Most of the time, people were grateful when you minded your own business and hid away. And sure there is a little bit of annoyance that comes with being scolded like a child, but it also felt good to have someone care for you this way.

You folded your knees onto your chest, repositioning yourself on her bed. It is only after you move closer to her that you notice your sketchbook on her side table.

"Where'd you find that?" You jolted up, eyes widening..

"Oh, this is another thing we wanted to ask you about." Harper exclaimed, stretching her arm towards the book and passing it over to you. "Clarisse came over here like 15 minutes ago, said you dropped this."

"Who's Clarisse?" You frowned.

"Oh that's funny, you don't know who Clarisse is, and yet she's talking about you like you've been friends for ages." Harper says it like a mother hen catching her daughter red handed, but you're only further confused.

"No, seriously. Who's Clarisse?"

Olivia sighed from her bed and waved her hand exaggeratedly. "Curly hair, dark skin, looks like she can dropkick you in 6 different ways." Instantly, something in your brain clicked.

"Oh, her." Their expression changed into curiosity as they await for you to add more.

"I...met her in the bathroom. She was making a kid do pushups. But we barely talked, I just left."

"Yeah well, she asked where you were when she came by, and we told her we didn't know. And then she gave me this." You opened the book and found that the page with her face on has been ripped away.

Something eats away at your heart when you saw the torn pages, but you said nothing and instead just tossed the book onto your own bed. "What's her deal anyways." You huffed.

"Legacy students, they're all a little entitled like that, her more than others." Olivia answered.

"Oh, she's entitled alright." You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes.

"I think I'm just gonna go catch up on homework now, unless there's anything else you two want to nag me on." Harper snorted and shoved you playfully but still smiled.

"No, no more nagging." Olivia concluded.

#clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #pjo series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader

[trashmouth-richie]

𝟹 𝙰𝙼

↳ eddie x fem!reader

↳ summary: just some sweet little smut between you and eddie before he goes to work

↳ A/n: wrote this awhile ago & I thought maybe I’d turn it into a series but nah, enjoy 😉

↳ warnings: smut 18+ only, smut with a plot. p in v, oral.

the soft whirring noises from his nose wake you before his alarm does. 

  Swing shift at the plant had Eddie’s sleep schedule completely out of whack. Some nights he’d be falling asleep at the table during supper, long curls bobbing as his head jerked forward. 

  There were days where you’d find him snoring, splayed out on his back on the thick rug on the floor of the baby’s room. Toy blocks in his hands, trying to be the dad he promised himself he would be. A dad he didn’t have. 

  And earlier tonight when he came home with grease lined under his fingernails, exhaust from the heavy machinery freckling his face, he let out a deafening yawn. 

  “Gotta be back in at 4,” he said after hugging you tight and tickling your sides. His soft lips pressed to the crown of your head. 

  You crane your neck to meet his lips and nod at him. The bags under his eyes were prominent tonight. Instead of going to bed early like you had suggested, after supper he spent the evening curled up in his recliner, rocking the baby to sleep while he read story after story. 

  This is why you loved him so much. 

  Both of you had come from broken homes, and when you wound up pregnant senior year, the odds were not in your favor. 

  But Eddie stepped up. You both finished high school early. Earning diplomas in December and he immediately started working at the plant with Wayne. Long hours for a decent paycheck. He was determined to not fail.

  When the neighbors next to Wayne’s trailer moved out after a death in the family in Texas left them millionaires, Wayne marched into the landlord’s office and put a down payment on the trailer. 

  $250 later the trailer was home. Eddie danced with you under flickering lights as he held you from behind, pressing kisses into your neck. Promising you a good life. His thick hands on your growing belly, rubbing it softly. 

  Auntie Robin and Uncle Steve helped on the weekends to clean the smoke stained walls and provide the latest gossip from Hawkins High. 

  Chrissy Cunningham? Caught blowing Mr. Higgins in his car during first period. 

  Steve had a date with Nancy Wheeler tonight. 

  Dustin took over as DM for Eddie and was doing really well. 

  You smiled through Robin’s fast paced words and when her and Steve left that night Eddie asked if you missed highschool, hanging his head in sorrow at fucking things up for you. 

  Not a chance when I have you. The promise splayed thick on your smile, sweet against his neck. 

  When the spring flowers bloomed in May, you had the baby right after Eddie’s birthday. 

  The best birthday present ever. 

  He had said with tears in his eyes, you knew he would be the best dad, he spent his lunch breaks reading books on parenting. He saved every dime from his paychecks— determined to make enough so you wouldn’t have to work. 

  He was a good man, the best dad you could ever imagine. And he deserves the world. 

  So tonight when the alarm went off at 3 o’clock, you turned it off before he could wake. Tip-toeing past the baby’s room and into the kitchen to make some coffee. 

  Scooping two heaps of the off brand coffee into the white paper filter you press the on button and watch as the brewed coffee gently tinks into the glass pot. 

  Painted toes skip over the creaks in the floor and back to your bedroom, where the man who made all of your dreams come true laid to rest, bare chested with two names inked over his heart, yours and the baby’s. 

  His arms were curled over his head and his snores were light. Untucking the sheet from its place under the mattress you crawl beneath it careful to not knee anywhere on Eddie.

  Up paled legs sat a pair of blue checkered boxers, the button undone from moving around during the night. And beneath them the delicious treat you were after, soft but still fairly large and thick, nestled with a pinked sack and a dusting of curls. 

  Trailing your nails along the waistband of the patterned blues, you work them down his hips with ease. Tired from already working 55 hours this week, Eddie doesn’t stir. 

  His cock springs out with a thud against his thigh, asleep like it’s owner, but enormous in size. 

  Dribbling a line of spit from your puckered lips you let it flow over his pink mushroom head like you were icing a cake, spreading it around with your thumb, rubbing the slit deep. A few jerks from your spit covered hand and Eddie moans in his sleep. His thick cock at full alert, veins on display for your lips to suckle. 

  You run your tongue from his sack up the shaft and around the peak. Kitten licks at first then long broad stripes. When you take his head into your mouth and swirl your tongue like you’re tasting a popsicle, Eddie finally wakes. A moaning grunt and then immediate panic. You pull the covers off your head and wipe your mouth while smiling wildly. 

  “Babe? Wh—what’s going on?” Eddie says sleepily, his hair askew and eyes still blinking from the sandman’s sleep. 

  “Shhh..” you shush, looking into his eyes and taking him whole into your throat in one swift gulp. 

  He moans and bucks his hips up into your face. 

  “Fuck,” he groans, his breathing erratic and breaking as you swallow him further, hands working double time in a twisting upward motion. Your spit running down to his balls. 

  You release him with a slow slide, gasping for breath as he holds your hair in his fists. 

  His eyes were squeezed tight and open immediately when you lick his slit, hungry for the salty seed. 

  “Bend over,” Eddie grunts, “now.” 

  Throwing the blankets off of you both and standing fast. He grabs your vibrator from the nightstand and clicks it to the on position, giving it to your waiting hand between your bent legs, your face smashed into the mattress. 

  He hikes the sleep shirt up your hips and sucks in a breath when he finds you soaked with no panties on. Glistening from the street lamp shining through the thin curtains, a feast for the taking. 

  “Jesus Christ,” he says, slapping his hands hard against the plush of your doughy ass, “my perfect fucking girl.” 

You whine when the vibration hits your clit, humming along into the mattress to soften your expecting screams. 

  Eddie’s thick head slips through your folds and you moan deep. Mirroring his own as you wiggle your hips for more.

  Burying himself inside your gummy walls you suck him in tight. A cozy wet hug around his dick.  

  “I swear to God this pussy was made for me,” he groans into the open air, pistoning his hips deeper and smacking against the fat of your ass.

  When a drop of spit hits the button and his thumb runs circles around it you squeal in pleasure. Puckering around his thumb, giving him a small kiss and begging him to go deeper. 

  He moans and mutters under his breath. Fucking into you harder. 

  The vibrator is working overtime on your swollen clit as Eddie bucks harder into you, his cock thick and hard jutting deep into your aching hole. You scream out as your legs start to shake and Eddie begins to twitch inside of you. 

  Before you can both come, he flips you over and scoots you both up on the bed. Your legs wrap around his hips and he dives into your lips. Kissing them sweet then harsh, the same way he kissed you for the very first time when you were both thirteen. 

  You were sitting on the handlebars of his bike, your bare legs wrapped around his black jean styled waist, the studs of his belt making indents in your calves. He was standing on the gravel, the bike balanced in his strong hands. Dust circling around you after he skidded to a stop around the curve of the trailer park road. Your lips teasing him for far too long that summer. 

  His hips thrust into yours and his lips moves down your neck, the sweet spot above your beauty mark acting as an ‘x’ for pirates treasure. 

  His hair tickles your skin and you hold his head in your hand and press him further into your neck. When your walls tighten and you whine out he cums hard too, filling you up full. 

  He presses sweet i love you kisses into your collarbones and licks a path up the curve of your chin. Devouring every ounce of your skin he can. 

  “Mrs. Munson,” he teases, lips grinning goofy, “I must have been a good husband to deserve such scandalous behavior at 3 AM.”

  You tickle his under arm and wiggle your way from beneath him, “Mrs. Munson?” you question, an eyebrow quirked into your disheveled hair. “Since when are we married?” 

  Eddie stretches on his back and fumbles into his drawer, wrestling the wrapper off a blue raspberry ring pop. He holds it up to you like a prized possession, “a placeholder for when the layaway is done being paid off at JCPENNEY’s.” 

  You giggle like a child and hold your out hand.Eddie threads the ring on your finger and licks the diamond shaped sucker. 

  “You keep waking me up like that we’re gonna have a whole litter of Munson’s running around, and besides,” he says, kissing up your arm and biting your shoulder, “I kinda like you,” 

  Kissing him deep you giggle. 

  “I kinda like you too.” 

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff

[mottlemoth]

Re: "But don't you find it beautiful and meaningful that Izzy got to experience happiness before he died? He ended his life surrounded by love and that was great for him."

You folks are sailing right past our one main issue here. Namely, why did he have to die at all?

It's a comedy show - a comedy show where not-really-deaths outnumber actual deaths by ten to one - why did Izzy have to die? Some of you are talking as if he died the way that people in real life die, like it's one of those things you just can't change. But this wasn't like that. This was a constructed narrative where a decision was made that not only should he be dead at the end of the series, but that it should be confirmed beyond all doubt with OFMD's only grave. Even the Badmintons weren't shown in their graves.

So why did Izzy have to die?

And why do so many of you find it fitting and appropriate that he died? This is a good opportunity to sit down with yourself and maybe examine your own thoughts around ageing and disability. Con O'Neill is in his 50s, not his 90s, and a missing limb is not some kind of down payment on death. The show even went out of its way to fit him with a new leg, breathe new life into him. So "he had to die because he was basically halfway out of the door" is rooted in some nasty ideas about ageing and disability, ideas which you should not allow to fester in yourself. Dig those out. If you're healthy and young, this might seem like a very remote issue to you. It won't always be.

David Jenkins has indicated in interviews that Izzy had to die because (1) he was Ed's 'mentor', a frankly baffling assertion which is contrary to nearly everything established about Ed and Izzy's relationship in the show, and (2) "it's a pirate show."

Okay! It's a pirate show. Seems fair at first.

Until you remember it's also a comedy show where guys turn into birds and people routinely survive explosions and gun shots and being stabbed through the liver on a regular basis. Throughout the narrative, OFMD has established and confirmed over and over and over again that it upholds the comedic law that death is never really death. You can relax seeing Roach fall from the rigging because it's a comedy show - they're not going to do that to you.

But then they did.

They reversed that fundamental law within the world just so that Izzy could die - and so that Izzy could just die. Nothing came of his death. It didn't open up a new section of plotline or change anything. The show could have ended with Izzy off on adventures with the crew he'd grown to love.

Instead he just died. And we're struggling to understand why.

Telling us that he got to be happy before he died doesn't make any sense. If it was all so beautiful and meaningful to see him experience temporary happiness, wouldn't it have been nice to see him happy ever after?

So why did the writers give him death instead?

We're scared that it's 2023 and some folks still think it's just fitting for visibly queer characters to be tantalised with happiness then struck down. We're scared that at the bottom of this, it makes sense to you that Izzy died because you think he was old and broken and no use to anyone now. We're scared to have discovered that even the show which said kindness, kindness, kindness right from the start had none for this character we loved, and we're scared that you find it so beautiful.

#izzy hands #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Gold Dust

Pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Public use of an app based sex toy, smut. Word count: ~1.8k

Summary: Aemond's office Christmas party is the last thing either of them want to attend, however, he comes up with an idea to make it fun for both of them.

Author's note: Can be read as an addition of this series, but also works as a standalone. Day seven of the Smuffmas prompts - "sharing a drink and toys". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Aemond edit in first picture is by @kyloremus.

It’s been six blissful months since her and Aemond moved in together. Having decided his own lofty high rise flat no longer felt like home - in truth, it never had - he’d offered a swap with Mysaria, and she’d leapt at the offer.

Aemond’s flat was paid for outright, so there’d be no expenses incurred on her part, beyond standard bills and utilities. She suited the space, adding a touch of glamour to the modern matte black and chrome surroundings. Her jaw had dropped when he’d handed her the deeds, his grandfather’s law firm already having handled the necessary paperwork and transfer of ownership. Aemond didn’t want rent, he simply wanted to live with the woman he loved. The simple act of Mysaria giving them a space to be by themselves was payment enough in his mind.

The security of the smaller, more homely feeling flat which she now shared with him had been trickier to negotiate. The landlord had snubbed Aemond’s initial offer to buy it from him, insisting he’d make more in rental payments from it than he would if he sold it. Some moderate pressure applied by the legal team of Otto Hightower, and an offer well above its current market value had soon seen to that, so now they were homeowners of a place that was theirs.

Mysaria’s old room had been turned into a home office, a space where either her or Aemond could work from home if and when they wanted to, aside from that they had made no further changes. The cosy little space was where they had shared their fondest memories, and every aspect of their relationship was woven into it.

She shrugs off her coat, hanging it up by the front door, and sighs in relief as the warmth of the central heating prickles her skin. She stoops to ruffle Vhagar behind the ears, a reward for the elderly doberman having reluctantly left her bed to greet her, before walking through to the living room. The blankets on the sofa are exactly as she’d left them the previous evening, and she eagerly retreats back into her nest, snatching up the TV remote from the coffee table.

“Good day?” Aemond asks, propping himself against the door frame as he emerges from the home office, the faintest smirk of amusement playing upon his lips as he looks at her.

She regards him with a warm smile, her features softening instantly despite how tired and irritated she feels. “Horrid, thanks for asking. Do we have any wine left?”

“There’ll be wine at the party, I expect,” he says, moving to sit next to her and brushing a chaste kiss against her temple.

“What?”

He narrows his eye at her, drawing back to look at her carefully. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

She groans as realisation dawns upon her. “Shit, your office Christmas party. Do we really have to go?”

He sighs, nodding and interlocks his fingers with hers. “Ordinarily, I’d give it a miss, you know I loathe parties, but my grandfather has called in more than a few favours for me this year. I owe him this.”

An hour later, and she steps out of the bedroom, hair and make-up finished and a slinky silk dress hugging her curves.

“Beautful,” Aemond breathes quietly, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

She smiles bashfully, feeling her skin heat up beneath the weight of his compliment as he pulls away, and watches with curiosity as he moves past her to rummage around on the top shelf of their wardrobe.

“What are you doing?”

“Your outfit’s missing something,” he tells her, pulling down the Lovehoney box, a glint in his eye as he turns to her.

“Aemond, no!”

The app controlled egg vibrator had been a drunken purchase on her behalf, that she’d regretted the moment it had arrived. Upon discovering it, Aemond’s reaction had been much more enthusiastic, kneeling between her spread legs and watching in fascination as she’d whimpered and writhed as he’d played with the settings using the app on his phone.

It had been fun at the time, but she’d considered it impractical and tucked it away, hoping he’d forgotten about it. It’s clear now that he hasn’t.

“Oh come now, darling, it’ll make the evening much more fun for both of us. Consider it an early Christmas gift to me.”

It doesn’t take much persuading, and soon she is sitting in the back of a black cab next to him, her coat pulled tight around her against the chilly December air, made colder still by a distinct lack of knickers, which Aemond had insisted she leave behind.

She is acutely aware of the feeling of the egg enveloped snugly inside of her, its presence, though discreet, making her feel as though she brandishes a scarlet letter that their taxi driver must be aware of.

“No!” She mouths desperately at Aemond as he pulls his phone from his pocket, thumb hovering over the app.

He flashes her the briefest of grins, tapping once on the screen. A mild singular buzz reverberates through her, causing her to clasp a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeal. Aemond eyes her carefully, poking at the inside of his cheek with his tongue before pocketing his phone once more.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

They step into the office, already bustling with people, chatter and light classical music fill the opulent space which is decked out in rich, mahogany furnishings and forest green upholstery, ever the indication that the Hightowers come from old money.

“There they are!” Aegon greets them loudly with a grin, arms spread and half drunk flutes of champagne clutched by the stem between each of his fingers. His shoulder length blonde hair is tousled, and his white shirt is open by three buttons.

“How long have you been here?” She asks, taking in his bedraggled appearance.

“‘Bout twenty minutes,” he slurs around a mouthful of vol-au-vent.

Otto steps up behind him, placing a ring clad hand upon his shoulder. “I tell you where you might like it, Aegon, on the terrace; outside.”

She watches with amusement as the older man leads him away.

“I’d better give him a hand,” Aemond mutters quietly, the warmth of his palm leaving her lower back as he moves to follow. He nods towards his older sister. “Good to see you, Hel.”

She smiles warmly at Hel leaning in as the two peck each other’s cheeks. “How are you doing?” She asks fondly.

“Starving!” Helaena complains, pulling her sheer turquoise wrap tighter around herself and waving away a tray of canapés that’s being offered around by a member of serving staff. “Not a single vegan option here, everything’s either got salmon in it or is slathered in cream cheese.”

“You could always sneak off to grab something?” She offers sympathetically.

“Aeg said there’s a kebab shop over the road. I might see if he’ll grab me a falafel wrap later. Anyway,” she continues, snatching up two flutes of champagne from a passing tray and handing one to her. “How are you?!”

“Yeah, really good!” She grins. “Aemond mentioned we might fly to New York for New Year’s, go and see Daeron. I’ve not met him yet and I– oh!”

She bows her head, biting back the quiet moan that tries to escape her, as the egg inside her vibrates incessantly. Her head snaps up, making eye contact with Aemond, who stands in a corner with his phone out, a sly smile upon his face.

Bastard.

“You alright?” Helaena asks, eyebrows pinched together in concern.

“Mhm…just...champagne bubbles…they go right up my nose!” She feigns a laugh, embarrassment making her skin feel hot.

Ever the dutiful girlfriend, she does her rounds of the office, speaking to colleagues and family members alike, though every interaction is thwarted by sudden and persistent vibrations between her legs.

After an hour of polite chit chat with Alicent, Criston, Otto and several other party guests, she leans back against the wall next to Aemond’s office door, needing a breather from socialising, but also feeling lightheaded from the intermittent throbbing in her core.

The door swings slowly open and Aemond steps out, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in hand.

“Having fun?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Mmm,” she narrows her eyes, “you clearly are. What’s that you’ve got?”

“Laphroaig,” he tells her, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Thirty six year old The Wall Peat, to be precise. Grandfather would never offer this around to the guests. Lucky for me I know he keeps it stashed in his bottom desk drawer.”

“Lucky indeed,” she purrs up at him.

He grabs her hand, pulling her into his office and closes the door behind them, before backing her up against the desk, until she perches on the edge.

“Let me see,” he whispers, pushing her dress up above her hips.

His free hand applies gentle pressure to her knee, spreading her legs, and she watches the bob of his throat as he swallows thickly, taking in the sight of the arousal that coats her centre.

“Fuck,” he mutters darkly. “The idea of you walking around making innocent small talk while you’re soaked is driving me mad.”

She giggles, clenching around the egg that’s nestled within her as she sees his gaze darken. Aemond pulls out his phone again, changing the setting to a constant vibrate, before setting it down on the desk behind her.

Mewling helplessly, shockwaves of pleasure ripple through her as Aemond’s thumb swipes against her sodden folds, spreading her open to watch intently.

He takes a sip from his glass, and she gasps as he grabs her forcefully by the hair at the back of her head, crushing her lips against his and letting the whisky pass from his mouth to hers. She moans quietly, the intensity of the burn of the liquid that slips down her throat and the throbbing ache between her legs making her feel dizzy.

She is devastatingly close, can feel the pressure building to boiling point, and she whines, pressing her face into the crook of Aemond’s neck, fingertips rumpling the fabric of his black button down shirt as she grasps his biceps for purchase. “Fuck, Aemond, I–”

“It’s alright, I’ve got you, let go,” he coos.

She bites down on the juncture of his neck to muffle her pleasured cry, earning her a startled grunt from Aemond. Her body spasms around the toy, climaxing with a force that makes her toes curl inside of her high heels, before going limp against his chest.

He settles his glass down and strokes her hair before pulling back. His long, dexterous fingers wrap around the cord of egg, and despite how gentle he is as he tugs it free, she still hisses with overstimulation as it leaves her body. The sudden feeling of emptiness is alien to her after having spent most of the evening with it inside of her.

“Can…can we go home now?” She asks tiredly, as he wraps the toy in tissue and deposits it on the desk.

“Hmmm, not just yet,” Aemond tells her, taking her hand and guiding it to palm over the erection that strains against the confines of his suit trousers. “I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

#modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #pro aemond targaryen #aemond stannies #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fan fic #aemond fan fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfic #hotd smut #house of the dragon #hotd fan fiction