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gloomskulls · 6 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ YELP REVIEWS [tasm!peter parker x reader]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ a fan decided to make an unofficial yelp page for spider man as a joke. A lot of clients...or citizens had so much to say.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNING ୨୧ none

A/n: Just a random short fluff. I'll go back doing dark stories once I feel like it. I haven't really used Yelp, but my friend gave me this idea lol, so credit to Angelina lol. Don't steal this coz I'll shave your head.

Peter slumped on the couch scrolling through his phone. He frowned intensely and tapped a link you had just sent him, headlined as "Spider-Man Yelp Reviews"

You leaned against the door with a stifled grin. "Found it while looking at reviews for that new pizza place. Thought you'd get a kick out of the comments from your…clients."

Peter groaned. "Clients? I'm not running a business. What is this?"

Thumbing through the reviews, he cycled through disbelief, frustration then finally wounded pride.

2 stars

"He saved me from a mugger, but he sailed so quickly I didn't even manage to get the chance to say than you. Really rude."

3 stars

"I appreciate the help...however, he left me dangling from a lamppost for 20 minutes until the cops arrived. You could have just dropped me on the ground bro."

4 stars

"Brilliant rescue, but my phone screen got cracked when he yanked me into a speeding car. Thanks, I guess"

Peter threw his head back, exasperated. "Cracked phone screens? I'm sorry, Janet, would you prefer to have been hit by the car?"

"Peter, this is gold," you dropped beside him taking the phone to scroll further. "Ooh, look at this one!"

1 star

“I yelled for Spider-Man to come help me when my cat was stuck in a fire escape. He didn’t show. What’s the worth of a superhero when they won’t even help the little guy from time to time?”

"That wasn't even a crime," Peter exclaimed with hands thrown up. "What do people expect me to do run a cat rescue hotline?"

"I mean…isn't helping people your whole thing? Even the little guys? Or, in this case, little cats?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Oh, I'm loving it." You scrolled to another review.

3 stars

"Got my purse back after it was snatched, but when he handed it to me, he just said, 'Here ya go,' and left. No photo, no autograph. Kinda rude."

"Oh no, Peter, how dare you not stay for selfies mid-crime fighting?" You snickered.

Peter dragged a hand down his face. "Am I supposed to throw a meet and greet after every mugging? Should I bring merch? Web-slingers for kids? Spider-Man action figures?"

You wiggled your eyebrows. "Don't tempt me to start a side hustle."

He shook his head, scrolling further. His eyes widening in disbelief at the review.

1 star

"I yelled for Spider-Man to help me with my groceries. He didn't show up. Ended up dragging six bags up five flights of stairs by myself. What's even the point of having a superhero if he doesn't help the little people?"

Peter let out a strangled laugh. "Groceries? I have to save people from groceries now?"

"Be honest," you teased. "If you would have heard her, would you help?"

He hesitated. "…I mean, maybe. If I wasn't busy."

"Softie," you said, poking his cheek. "You're gonna carry someone's Costco haul one day; I just know it."

Peter groaned louder and clicked on another review, muttering, "It can't get worse. It can't possibly—"

0 stars

"Spider-Man swung by my building and broke my balcony railing. Now my landlord's charging me for repairs. Thanks, webhead."

"Oh," you managed a stifled laugh. "Isn't that the guy from your last patrol? You know, the one who yelled at you when you were chasing that car thief?"

Peter buried his face into his hands. "It's not my fault that balconies are so flimsy in the city. It's very hard to swing around without hitting something."

You patted his shoulder soothingly. "Don't worry, hero. I'm sure you'll get your Yelp rating up again. Maybe even start a loyalty program? Save five, get a free coffee?"

Peter shot you a look, betraying irritation and amusement. "You're impossible." You just grinned menacingly at his words.

"Hey, look at this one," you said, stealing the phone and scrolling to a five-star review, finally. "Finally, some love."

5 stars

“Spider-Man saved my dog from traffic. My girlfriend thinks he's cute. I do too, honestly. Would let him rescue me any day.”

He blinked. "What…what does that even mean?!"

"It means you’re the city’s hottest, most eligible bachelor,” you said, draping an arm over his shoulders. "Even dogs are falling for you. Can't blame them."

He rubbed his temples. “I think I need to retire. Or move to a quieter city. Do they need Spider-Man in, like, Ohio? Whadoyo think baby?”

You smiled and opened the Yelp app. “There, there, hero. I’ll fix your reputation." You assured him as you patted his back

Peter leaned over, squinting as you typed. “What are you— '5 stars. Spider-Man is amazing. Handsome. Athletic. Definitely has a great butt' Babe!" He read out everything you typed for him as you clicked the submit button

You winked. "Just telling the truth. Besides, if you're going to be stuck here, you might as well be a five-star hero."

"Unbelievable," he muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile.

@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me

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loser-mobile · 19 days ago

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Future Lover - Jason Todd x Reader

Synopsis: Trying to make it in the Big City, you are dragged clawing and screaming into a time travel mess with a man who claims to be your future husband.

Author's Note: This is my first fic in like.....years. plese be kind :)

Also this was loosely inspired by another writer's headcanon/work (that i can't find :((), and this song. I will continue to search for the fic and link it when I find it, bc it's really good!

I hope I do the idea and the character justice!

Content: Jason Todd x Reader, timetravel, swearing, mention of injuries, blood, more to come :)

ANywaayyss! Hope you like it :)

Word Count: 2k.

You’ve been daydreaming again. A third - no, fourth cup of tea, left to turn bone cold.

Fuckin dipshit

It’s a warm day for Gotham. City of recurring nightmares, for some. For you, it’s home. A chaotic, fucked-up, yet charming-in-it’s-relentlessness home.

At 22, you’re at that crucial stage of your 20’s where it feels like you’ve seen it all, and yet done nothing of note. Job-hopping, relationship-failing, nothingness. Anxious to make something of yourself, yet not quite sure what that something would be yet.

Ambition currently took a backseat to survival. You worked for a federal community services program, which helped your clients find and access vital resources, like housing, healthcare, and food. You were a jack-of-all-trades for many in this role; a big sister, a life-coach and a friend, all in one. A soft landing. It was hard, but rewarding work.

But damn if it didn’t drain you.

You let out a huff as you pour the cup into the sink, letting the stale chamomile brew be swallowed by the drain. You’re alone in your sharehouse, with all four of your housemates all out and about, taking full advantage of the sunny weekend. It’s a rare occasion. You gaze up, over the sink, through the window in the kitchen. Outside, sunshine beams down through silvery clouds.

It is a nice day.

Oh shit. What’s the time? And why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?

You rush back to your room and glance at your phone screen. 12:48. Oh shit!

Coffee! With your coworker, Matthew! Damnit!

Rushing around the house as quickly as you can, you damn near turn into a blur as your grab the necessities haphazardly. Jacket, keys, wallet, phone…. Where’s the damn phone, you just had it, dumbass!

Slamming the door to your townhouse behind you, with your belongings all shoved into a low-slung leather shoulder bag, you rush three blocks down to the bus stop that will take you further into town, managing to just catch the bus before it leaves. Slotting yourself behind the other passengers from your stop, ignoring the glare that the bus driver gives you, and squeezing through the sea of patrons, that’s when you spot it. A seat. Yes! Perfect!

Collapsing into the plastic seat with a soft thud, your head tilts back and you exhale, catching your breath. You close your eyes in relief. Phew! At least now you’ll make it to coffee with your friend and former colleague Matthew on time.

Glad I got this seat. Free seats on buses in Gotham, especially on sunny days like this, are few and far between.

Come to think of it…. Free seats in Gotham, on PACKED buses like this one, are exceedingly rare…

You glance to your right side, towards the side window. The man who sits beside you is, and there really is no way to put this lightly, huge. He looks straight forward, and it’s like he hasn’t noticed you at all.

A hulking presence, you can see he lurches forward ever so slightly. Broad shoulders that filled a dark brown leather jacket to the brim. Arms that squeeze into the worm sleeves. You glance away, folding your bottom lip into your mouth as you are prone to do when nervous or awkward. Inhaling, you steal one last glance up at his face, before quickly looking forward, and inwardly cringing.

Now it all makes sense. That scowl. Fuck me. This man might be a local crazy.

None of the other passengers are anywhere near him. Well, near either of you, since you foolishly decided to take the empty seat without first looking to see who it was you’d be sitting next to. Dickhead.

His face is a storied one. The first thing you notice are his eyes. Cliché, you think to yourself, Noticing the handsome stranger’s eyes first. But in all honesty, it’s quite hard not to. They’re a bright, piercing green. Almost…. glowing? Well, the left one is. You can’t see the right, as he’s facing forward. His disinterest in you is such that you think if you were to drop dead in front of him, he’d hardly blink.

His face, side on, is straight and chiselled, but aged. A large thin scar reaches from his left jaw, pointing like an arrow towards his green eye. And his hair, oil black, voluminous and wavy, with a streak of platinum white in his cowlick. It would be adorable if you weren’t so bloody mortified right now.

His thick black brows are furrowed in deep concentration, or frustration. You can’t tell which. His glowering face, tense and focused, betrays the deep thought he is in. It’s not clear what exactly it is this man wants to stab the life out of right now, but it is clear that this man does not want to be spoken to right now. Hence the empty seat, you figure.

You squeeze your arms around your brown bag, the soft leather a small comfort in this awkward situation you now find yourself in. Oh, if only you could sink through this shitty plastic bus chair and splat onto the road below.

You take a deep breath, finally steading yourself. Finding yourself in close proximity with an unstable person in Gotham is like finding yourself in an enclosure with a lion. No sudden movements, and you might find yourself walking out of this with all limbs intact.

Without warning, the bus lurches forward, and you with it. Your arm shoots out to steady yourself on the metal pole in front of you, a small groan escaping your lips. You remain seated.

The man beside you, seemingly weighed down by rocks, doesn’t budge, but grunts softly. It’s probably all those damn muscles keeping him locked in place.

You look to your side, observing the other patrons with mild curiosity. Across the small aisle from you, sits a small child and her father. Hand in hand, and she can’t be older than four. Blonde hair sticks out in tiny pigtails, and in her hands sits a stuffed giraffe toy.

She looks over at me with large brown eyes, and smiles. You smile back, and offer a small smile. “I like your giraffe! What’s his name?”, your chirp, just as the bus enters a dark underground tunnel.

She opens her mouth to speak, a bashful smile on her face, but is interrupted by the bus skidding to a halt. You don’t even have time to turn my head forward, when, quicker than you can comprehend, hands move. Her father’s hands, and your left arm, both reach towards the small child. Your hand instinctively spreads out to cushion her small body, whilst your right reaches out for the pole in front of you. And completely misses it.

But you don’t flip head over heels onto the bus floor. A large arm has blocked you, reaching in front of you like a human seatbelt. The man beside you, still facing forward stoically, stopped you from breaking your teeth on the bus floor.

You softly curse, mouth agape. Your fingers find your bag, which has dropped unceremoniously to the sticky floor. That was quick. The bus doesn’t move. There isn’t any movement outside the bus, as far as you can tell. Instead, you hear chatter and confused mumbling from the other patrons on board, who lean and peer at something you can’t quite see.

But you feel it before you see it. A human body slams into the front window of the bus. One of the layers of glass completely shatters, sending shards of glass propelling towards you and the other passengers.

You don’t get a chance to gasp before you are squished under the chest of the stranger beside you. His arms cover your back and you feel one of his hands on your head. You hear a thick heartbeat and a rumbling pair of lungs, and feel the warmth and softness of his black hoodie.

Seems like the weird stranger beside you had the same instincts as you; to protect people.

The bus rocks back and forth for a second, but once it has steadied, the stranger is gone. You see a flash of dark leather slip through the ajar bus door, and he is gone.

Holy shit.

The body that landed on the front window of the bus is gone, a large indent of curved window glass in its place.

You hear screams, close ones and distant ones. To your left, the giraffe girl is tucked into the lap of her father, screaming in terror. You glance over at him, and he meets your gaze. Both of you, wide-eyed, communicate without words. We gotta get outta here.

You reach out a hand to help him up, as he clutches his baby girl to his chest. A wave of patrons exit the bus. There’d probably be more injuries through the panic and distress of getting off the bus, if not for the complete shock that everyone is now in.

Your hands reach up to rub your face, and you quickly check yourself, then others around you, for injuries. Other than a light scare, and a few cuts and bruises, the bus of about 40 people seem to be mostly unscathed. You allow yourself a breath, and release a bit of fear.

Glass crunches underfoot, and patrons usher each-other through the doors. It’s like organised chaos. It’s Gotham, so as with every weird and horrifying event, there are naturally leaders and carers who always step up. Good people. Kind strangers whose motivation is just to get everyone home safe that day. The unsung civilian heroes of Gotham, along with the nurses and doctors, you think to yourself.

As the last few people exit the bus, you stand, leaning a hand on the backrest of your bus seat. Giraffe-girl dropped her little giraffe toy in the chaos, and you slowly stooped down to pick it up.

Slowly picking shards of glass from the yellow and brown fur of the toy, you cautiously step towards the exit of the bus. Outside, there’s a fair amount of darkness, and you can hear distant gunshots and sounds of violence and chaos.

Just before you reach the exit, the bus lurches violently once again, and as if possessed, you are tossed to the stick bus floor, landing amongst the glass shards. Crunch! Your thin jacket does nothing to stop the damage, and it’s like a thousand tiny knives have plunged themselves into your skin. You groan and cry out. Fuck!

The giraffe toy is still in your clutches, when you can feel the bus begin to lift into the air. It’s like that feeling of an elevator rising, you can just tell. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You crawl and clamber to the door of the bus, clutching the sides and peering out below. You’ve been lifted barely six feet in the air, but you can’t see who’s doing the lifting. There’s a loud jarring scraping noise that comes from above you, and you glance upwards. It’s the roof of the bus, touching the concrete ceiling of the road tunnel above you. Metal pressing against concrete isn’t a wonderful sound, but at least you can’t go any higher.

But the crushing sound doesn’t stop, and the roof buckles. You are jolted around, as the bus begins to fold in on itself like paper. That’s when you cry out for help, as loud as you can.

“Hey! HEY! Stop! Please, somebody help!”. Your voice calls out, but there’s no immediate answer. “PLEASE, HELP!” You desperately cry out. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest, and your head feels heavy with fear. Your eyes stretch wider than you thought was possible, and you begin breathing quick and shallow breaths.

Clutching at the sides of the bus door frame, you peer out below you. The gap between you and the ground is getting bigger and bigger. If you’re gonna jump, you’re gonna break your legs. But if you stay here, you’ll break… well, you’ll break your everything.

Fuck it.

With a panicked grunt, you launch yourself downwards… and lend somewhere soft. In someone’s arms.

It’s the guy from before. Wait - no… is it? He looks older now. Grayer hair. More scars. And he looks at you with a grin and a glint in his eyes, almost like he recognises you. His red muzzle rests around his neck, low enough to show his black stubble.

That muzzle.. looks a lot like the one Red Hood wears....

He looks at you and smiles warmly. “Hey, honey!”.

A/N: AHHHH HE MAKES ME FEEEEEL. Hope you liked it? Also, reader kinda hinted at being neurodivergent, like myself, very forgetful and distractable and high energy.

Let me know if you have any feedback!

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #gotham #batman #redhood #redhood x reader #batfam #dc comics #fanfiction #timetravel #reader insert #Spotify

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thebluester2020 · 10 months ago

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[ZZZ] "How To Recieve An A+ In Housekeeping!"

Summary: Attempting to get a job in Victorian Housekeeping Co. is a very strenuous process! One must show a wide variety of skills, good vocabulary, and excellent manners— all three were skills that you were failing at but, luckily the leader of the company had the perfect method to teach you these skills and it all starts with a program! Warning(s): Dom! Lycaon / Sub! Reader, Brat-Taming [Reader's a bit mouthy at best tbh] Spanking, Slight Edging, Cum Denial [Kinda? Lycaon encourages reader not to cum but doesn't do anything to enforce it tbh], Lycian being gentlemanly as hell. (Feel free to tell me if I missed anything!) Side Note(s): I won't say I am/am not a furry. But I will say that my taste in dudes will always favor them where they're stoic and serious but have a secret soft side. Respectfully, those types of men make me want to do the sexy splits on them.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this <33

"Your manners are terrible"

When those words left the wolfman's mouth sternly as you sat before him, only a desk separating the two of you, you could've sworn you felt a metaphorical anvil drop into your stomach. You had been job-hunting for a couple of weeks now, after your last gang had disbanded due to the leader getting caught up with the law. You no longer had a steady flow of cash (albeit a little illegal ) coming in!

From gang member to attempted housemaid...it was laughable. Even to you.

And clearly, the leader of the Victorian Housekeeping company thought so too from the way he looked at your resume with a strict gaze once more before resuming looking at you. You were fully expectant of another harsh sentence to slip from his sharp-toothed youth until...you heard a heavy sigh escape him.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the very room seeming to react to the movement by the way the single light above you two flickered. His then he huffed. "There is a way to improve to improve your manners, however, you'll be learning from me personally."

You gasped. "Really?! Thank you so much, man!"

His ear twitched at the casual "man" you threw his way. "...Sir or mister is a more proper way of speaking to your male superiors."

You cleared your throat and uttered a 'sorry'. "The program will be for three weeks. Each week will be dedicated to a specific set of manners that you are to master if you wish to join the company."

"Which are?" You responded.

"The first week will be vocabulary, communication with clients, and the correct words to address people by," As Lyacon said this, he opened a drawer on his side before pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it to you. You slowly began to read over the paper, one that seemed like a contract of sorts as the wolf continued to talk.

"The second week will simply focus on posture."

You scoffed as your eyes flicked back up to his. "Posture? Ain't that just walkin'?"

"Proper posture is harder to achieve than one may assume Ms. Y/N." He said. "The third week will be—"

The sudden clearing of his throat made him stop immediately, your face suddenly but quickly turning red as you reached a section on the paper that caught your eye.

Complete submission is expected by those who train under Von Lycaon, especially those he offers "favors" to.

"F-Favors...?"

"Favors hint towards a sexual nature, if I'm to assume that was the inquiry to your question?"

In your former gang, you had heard about Von Lycaon and the whole attitude of the white wolfman. He was a pinnacle of perfection in seemingly everything he did! There didn't seem to be a single thing he half-assed, to put it crudely, and what's more? He didn't get distracted. So...for a document to suggest that he wanted submission during sex?

You didn't know if it was shocking or expected.

"I didn't expect the Lycaon to need a document to garner sex." You said.

A rare chuckle left him. "I don't," He answered. "But everyone learns quicker and better when praise and pleasure is included, correct? This is merely a suggestion for you to learn faster. You are more than welcome to opt out of this."

"And if I accept?" Upon that question, the corners of Lycaon's mouth curled up slightly as he slowly leaned in until you could just barely feel his breath.

"Then you will learn fast. On my honor, I promise you."

You should've said no to this optional part of the program. All you needed was a job and Lycaon made it clear that there was a sexless version of the program where you'd simply learn the old-fashioned way! No pleasure or sex included but...as your eyes steadily trailed over the thiren, you couldn't deny he was a handsome individual. It wouldn't be unpleasant in the slightest to have benefits while completing your training under him. And as you steadily came to that conclusion, your thighs beginning to clench underneath the desk.

The thiren briefly sniffed at the air before he closed his eyes and exhaled. He was as still as a statue for a brief moment before he cleared his throat and offered you a pen from his breast pocket.

"I didn't give you an official answer—"

"Your scent gave me a suggestion." His raspy voice in combination with the sudden feral look in his eyes...you all too quickly shooed away any doubts you may have had before you began to sign away on the line at the bottom of the paper. And once you did, sliding the paper gently back to the wolf, he read over it briefly before he folded it neatly and placed it back into a drawer.

"We shall begin Monday," Lycaon said. "Please be prompt and on-time, I don't tolerate tardiness."

"Yeah, yeah." You scoffed.

And thus, your training as a potential housemaid for the Victorian Housekeeping Company has officially begun.

. . .

| Week One |

You had slept in, you had forgotten to set a timer over the weekend, too engrossed with the fact that you had basically agreed to have sex with Lycaon during your three-week training! The second you arrived home, it was a struggle to not touch yourself to the thought of what he looked like underneath his kept-together appearance.

You imagined he'd be soft to the touch judging by how much fur he had.

Would he be firm with his gaze, demanding you to be perfect even in the heat of the moment? Or would be he gentle and accommodating with you?

No matter how much your body cried out for you to indulge yourself a little, you saved it until you experienced it for yourself.

But right now, as your head was bowed down in apology to the wolfman for making him wait over forty minutes to your first day. You had a strong feeling you wouldn't be experiencing anything pleasurable today. "Once again dude, I am SO sorry!" You said.

"I forgot to set a timer, then I wanted to stop and get some breakfast along the way—"

"Stop," He snapped his jaws with a growl seeming to bubble just underneath the surface, the sight of his fangs making you shudder out of fear and...the slightest hint of excitement.

"First appearances are important, the most important out of any interaction and you sullied it on your first day of training? How do you expect to work for the company with such a flippant attitude?"

"I said sorry—"

"Sorry does not cut it Ms. Y/N. Excusing being a minute or two late is another matter but forty? Punishment is the only fitting way to solve such blatant disregard for other people's time." At those chilling words, Lycaon took a single step toward you before he took your chin into his hand, his eyes scanning over your nervous form with a critical gaze before he eventually sighed.

"I have a punishment in mind, please see to it that you are undressed in my office within' five minutes, and be on time."

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers before you huffed defiantly. "I'm not doing that!" You yelled.

His ear flicked, to him? You sounded like an impudent child, screaming and doing anything to get out of being scolded by their parent. "No?" He tilted his head.

"No!"

A wolfish smirk crept onto his face. "Every minute you stand here is an additional minute to your punishment Ms. Y/N. Do take care to remember that."

And so, there you stood.

| + | + | + |

You wouldn't be able to claim that he wasn't patient for the entire duration you had a fit about being punished on the first day of training. For about ten whole minutes, you stood there staring at the thiren until you eventually got bored and decided that "your punishment wouldn't be that bad" and simply went to his office!

You sat on a black couch and waited and when Lycaon came in?

The way he so quickly got his hands on you felt like you were being thrown around by an uncouth beast, a complete switch from the gentlemanly wolf you were talking to just a few minutes ago.

Slap! "Count." He ordered.

"O-One—Ah!"

He tutted his lips with a shake of his head as his hand slapped against your ass again, your maid uniform tugged up to your midsection as he pinned your hands down with his free hand. "Proper communication is most effective when you're speaking clearly Ms. Y/N...also, it's "one, sir"."

Another slap against your red behind rang out in the air, your body jerking forward a little at the movement. "At this rate, you'll never reach fifty." He sighed.

"W-Wait...!" You begged. "J-Just give me a break...so I can c-catch my breath—" When he slowly inched his hand upward again, your eyes widened as you quickly remembered your manners. "S-Sir! J-Just let me catch my breath...please."

If your eyes weren't blurry with tears, your mind getting fuzzier and fuzzier as you tried to ignore the ache in your cunt. You could've sworn you saw his tail move a little. After a minute, however, a sharp gasp left your swollen lips when you felt a finger graze against your sex, the featherlight touch making you shudder as you whipped your head around to look at the Lycaon.

Unconsciously, his tongue poked out to sweep against his upper set of canines as he focused on how your slick oozed out from your pussy so shamelessly. But at the same time? He figured he shouldn't have been shocked at the lewd sight, his keen hearing didn't miss the way a tiny moan would escape your lips at each slap. It was as if you wanted him to keep going and didn't want your punishment to end anytime soon.

Such behavior wasn't befitting of a potential future employee at the company. "Are you done recuperating? If so, then let us continue."

"W-Wait..." You begged. "J-Just a little time- Ah!"

"Now, now—" He pressed his hand down on your wrists a little more, lightly pinching at your thigh with the tip of his claws to calm your squirming. "—If you focus and count Ms. Y/N then your punishment will be over very soon, please remain focused."

After a final warning, he was quick to resume his smacks against your ass. The pain and pleasure eventually blurring into one another enough for your brain to somehow find a way to "center" itself. And, after around twenty minutes...Lycaon finally released you from your bent-over position over his lap and got up.

A lingering rebelliousness in the back of your head wanted to curse out the wolf as he stood, fixing his cuffs until they were neat again as if he wasn't rocking a blatant boner in his trousers! Yet as your mouth began to open as he walked further away...it quickly shut when he started walking back to you after grabbing something from a bookshelf behind his desk.

"What is that?" You asked.

"Aloe cream, it should help with the burn and any burning sensations."

Oh, you thought.

How...nice of him.

At your silence, his head tilted as he sat down next to you. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah...I just wasn't expecting aftercare." You blushed.

"Your work would be even more affected if I didn't do this, I wouldn't want that." Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat.

. . .

| Week Two |

You didn't want to admit it to yourself at the time but you knew full well as to why your heart skipped a beat that day. At first, you tried to joke and claim that you were a masochist starting to bloom! Von Lycaon was handsome, yes but you knew how to distinguish between work and personal lives! Besides, you wanted money more than you did romance and if the latter interfered with your money...you weren't in any shape or form interested in it.

But, at the second week's coming, this week focused on posture if your memory served correctly. You couldn't lie or joke to yourself anymore.

You developed a crush on your future boss.

And it grew harder and harder to deny that fact in your...current position. Naked aside from your short black heels, you were standing right in front of Lycaon with his pants pulled down just enough to reveal his leaking dick. The tip seemed to turn increasingly into an angrier red as you continued to stay frozen in place. "Are you uncomfortable?" Lycaon's words snapped you out of your thoughts before you shook your head.

"N-No sir! It's just..." You went quiet for a second. "How...how is this going to teach me posture?"

"If you would come closer, I will show you." Like a siren's song, the beckoning of his clawed finger made you take small steps forward until you were finally in front of him. "I'll be letting you take control of me for some time," You could've sworn you caught a smirk on his lips at his words. "If you manage to fuck me until I cum with the correct posture then consider your training done, and welcome to your new job as a new maid to the Victorian Housekeeping company. I'll be generous and not even include the third week of training."

"But—" As his hand found its way to your hips, he gently tugged you forward until he slowly maneuvered you to straddle him on his lap, his cock throbbing against your stomach as beads of sweat started to appear at the back of your neck. He reached the middle of your stomach, easily! And that wasn't even considering his girth. "—If your posture fails, you will unfortunately stick to the original training program. And I must warn you, most do not manage to get through week three."

You jumped a little when you felt Lycaon's hand move down to your pussy. "What are you doing?" You voiced out shakily, your clit throbbing at Lycaon's touch as one finger alone was enough to cover your entire clit.

"Preparing you of course," He said with an "obviously" tone. "No matter how much I can smell your eagerness in the air—" A sharp moan escaped your lips when his finger started to slowly move, your cheeks burning at the fact you let out such a noise from such little stimulation. "—I doubt you will be able to fully take me without a little prep."

"Y-You..." You bit your tongue to keep a curse from flying out, your hands quickly moving to his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself and not lose yourself too quickly to the pleasure. A task that you were quickly failing at as you felt a knot slowly begin to form in the pit of your stomach, scorching hot tears brimming your eyes as a single line of drool fell from the corner of your lips.

And Lycaon was enjoying every second of it.

If he were to be honest with himself.

He didn't want you to succeed this time.

After having so much fun with you last week, he would say that he had gotten a bit greedy. As entertaining as it was to tame your bratty behavior and mold it into something more palpable as someone who would be interacting with clients often, it was torture all the same to him to not shut you up with his cock instead! It wasn't enough to rut into his hand at the end of every day, heated pants leaving his lips as his tongue lulled out of his mouth like some common dog begging for a slip of meat.

To say that it was unbecoming of him to set you up for failure was an understatement, rubbing your needy bud until you nearly squirted on him wouldn't make you last very long when you were actually seated on his cock. And as cruel as it was for him to say...how unbecoming and un-gentlemanly it was...

He was so fucking eager for you to fail.

"S-Sir..." His ears perked to your whining as your head fell his chest, his ears then moving to the sound of lewd squelching coming from your pussy. "Please...I-I'm so close..." You whined.

He allowed himself to play with you a minute longer until...he took his finger away.

He struggled to withhold a laugh at your state, your eyes seeming to be confused and stuck between wanting to glare angrily at him or beggingly like a wanton whore for him to continue. "Don't look like that," He said. "If I were to make you cum now, you would be too shaky to fuck me."

You were too shaky now.

But, you'd first kiss the seat of a toilet lid before admitting defeat.

"I-I won't fail this..." You said with determination, although breathlessly.

His tail wagged ever so slightly at your determination. "We shall see," He responded before he relaxed against the couch with a deep sigh. "Please begin at your leisure Ms. Y/N." When you took him into your hand, you felt a surge of confidence at Lycaon's not-so-quiet sharp inhale of breath. You prayed that he was just as needy as you because as you lined him up to your entrance and started to slid him into you, every inch that sunk further into you made your mouth gap wider and wider until you were certain you looked like a gasping fish.

He rubbed against your walls so nicely too, his girth stretching you out just enough to where it made you drool as it touched spots inside of you that you hadn't had a clue existed until today!

"F-Fuckkkkk..." You moaned out once you were fully seated on him.

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, desperately trying to ignore that burning feeling in your core as you began to move.

"Shit." Oh, how you just wanted to just shove a hand over his snout to keep him from letting out such sexy noises. His raspy voice and the way his thumbs rubbed encouraging circles into your hips...it wasn't good for you. You'd cum faster at this rate.

"Faster," Lycaon suddenly ordered, opening one of his red eyes to look at you.

"I...I can't- Oh!" Your words caught in your throat when he suddenly fucked up into you. A squeal nearly leaving your throat as you shut your eyes tightly to try and force back that urge to cum.

"Disobeying a superior now Ms. Y/N?" One of his hands slowly dragged up your back before it gently shoved you forward a little. Immediately, you fixed your posture although you nearly fell back over a couple of times. "You should watch yourself, my type of punishment for this act won't be very fun."

You doubted that.

But, as your hands tightened on his shoulders and you fucked yourself more quicker onto him. Tears started to flow down your cheeks more easily as you couldn't deny the burning feeling in your stomach anymore, how the way Lycaon's dick throbbed inside of you and pressed against your most sensitive spots...the urge to beg him for the chance to cum, just once was on the tip of your tongue but you tried to stay focused. "Oh my God..." He moaned deeply.

"Fuckkk..."

"A-Are you close?" You whined.

He scoffed. "Not even close," You felt your hopes nearly crash and shatter at those words. "But...your pussy feels so good on my cock," He praised, his tail thumping against the couch unabashedly as he stared up at you with hooded eyes and a feral gaze. "Perhaps, instead of a maid, you should be my personal breeding toy."

His smirk grew when he felt your pussy tighten around his cock.

"Yeah?" He asked. "You like that?"

You shook your head, shutting your eyes tightly as if not seeing him would help your situation anyway. However, as you felt a furred hand cup the side of your face, the feeling of breaths hitting your face. Your eyes slowly cracked open to the wolf thiren's face right in front of yours, panting and moaning with little to no shame before he smiled. "So pretty like this Y/N..." He said before his leaned down to begin pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

Briefly, the thought of whether or not this was a part of the training flashed in the front of your mind. But...as quick as it came, it was gone. You wanted to believe that...he wasn't following some manual when it came to his actions, that they were meant just for you and you alone. "You're so wet, making so much noise...I think I was right in my earlier suggestion hm? Maybe you will do better as my toy."

You shook your head. "Don't lie." He lightly nipped your shoulder, the sharp sudden pain being just what you needed to throw you over the edge before...Lycaon's ears moved to the sound of gushing and the feeling of wetness splashing against his pants and a bit of his thighs.

Without a second thought, his fingers shot down to gather some of your cum onto his fingers before he tasted you, a groan rumbling out as he almost shocked himself with how fast he got hard again. But before he could mention it, much less suggest it, when Lycaon returned his gaze to you. He saw you passed out against his chest, the very sight making him laugh ever so quietly before he sighed.

He supposed he was feeling a touch bit generous...he expected you to cum within seconds of fucking yourself onto his cock but it took you longer than that! To the point, he actually began to worry about cumming first or not! Although he had a mind not to be, he decided to be generous and forgiving seeing as you fucked him until the point of total exhaustion on your point.

He'd give you a passing A+ for effort.

#zzz #zzzero #zenless zone zero #zenlesszonezero #von lycaon #von lycaon smut #zzz von lycaon #zzz lycaon #von lycaon x reader #von lycaon zzz #von lycaon zenless zone zero #lycaon smut #zzz smut #zenless zone zero smut #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz x reader #smut writing

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bump1nthen1ght · 8 months ago

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A Very Monstrous Kinktober (2024) Day 15 - Prostitution

Kink: Prostitution

Pairing: GN!Reader x M!Robot

Other Kinks: Cowgirl Position

Word Count: 1629 Words

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’re so…warm.”

The words spill out of your mouth before you can think better of it, eyes wide at the heated metal beneath your splayed palm. Booker’s sleek, black exterior had you thinking he would be chill to the touch, something different from your own fleshy body. But he’s not, the gentle whirr of his processors just beneath his plating generating a pleasant heat. It’s not unlike a laptop that’s running too many programs, though you’re not sure if that’s an appropriate thing to say out loud.

“So are you.” Booker’s modulated voice quips, the deep tone sending a shiver down your spine. He sounds like the sultry narrator of a smut novel, or the bad boy option in a love triangle otome game. I’s built to make you putty in his hands.

No wonder his hourly rate is so high.

A sharp metal finger tils up your jaw, moving your eyes from his jutting plated abdomen to his face, the blank metal screen somehow staring deep into your soul. Red lines pulse in between the juncture where his jaw meets his neck, cabling glowing like neon in the dark bedroom.

“You’re my first human client, you know that?” He chuckles, fingers moving up to pinch your cheeks, watching the way they squish. “Many of your kind seem too intimidated to consider even looking me in the faceplate, let alone join me in bed.”

You feel your face grow hot, thoughts running back to the first impression you had when saw his page on the scandalous website you cracked open late at night.

“You’re my first droid.” You mutter, lips still squished together. “So I guess we’re both in for something new”

Booker chuckles, and you bet if he could smirk, he would.

“Cheeky little thing.” Booker pulls you closer, still grabbing you by the jaw. Straddled the way you are on his lap, your hand has to splay on his chest to keep your balance. He leans his face-plate past your face and directly into your ear. “I like that.”

It’s hard not to melt right then there, become a puddle of flesh against his large lap. Especially when he presses another large hand against your lower back, pushing it to arch in his grip. The warm metal is now pressed directly to your bare chest, so hot yet not burning.

Something buzzes underneath your crotch, making you yelp. Booker’s chuckle rumbles in your ear, the hand on your lower back now rubbing circles.

“That’d be my modesty plating, love.” His hand moves down to grip one of your ass cheeks, pushing your lower half down right against the buzzing at the center of his crotch. It’s just as hot as the rest of him, and sends a bolt of lightning straight up your spine. “Looking so cute on top of me, the thing might just malfunction.”

You gulp. Gods, you may be too pent up for all this.

“So that hides your…your-”

“My cock, yes.” Booker brushes the back of his segmented knuckles down the side of your face, stopping to trace the shape of your lips.

“O-oh.”

Booker’s thumb prods at your bottom lip and it’s almost embarrassing how eagerly you open your mouth for him, let him run the pad of his thumb against your tongue.

“So wet.” Booker purrs, the whirring of machinery growing louder as he pushes his thumb all the way down to the knuckle, sees drool spilling over the sides of your mouth.

“Can I shee it?” You sputter around his thumb, mind still preoccupied with the buzzing core beneath you.

Booker spanks you on the ass, sending you forward and gagging on his thumb. But he laughs again, and shimmies himself upward. His modesty plate now sits just before your seated crotch.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Steam bursts from the siding as the buzzing plate pulls back into his black armor, a slippery wet red phallus sliding into place.

Holy SHIT.

The cock’s head lays on your stomach, some sort of fluid pulsing underneath the silicone skin and making it twitch. Fresh globs of a neon crimson fluid bubble at the top, coating it with a sticky texture.

“Just as you imagined it?”

“Even better.” You pant, heart pounding in your ear drums as you eye up Booker’s dick. “C-can I touch it?”

Booker nods, thumb still pressing down on your lower palette as you hyper focus on the task at hand.

It’s warmer than the rest of him, much closer to the familiar body heat of humans that you’re used to. The silicon squishes as you grab at the base, still firm even as you squeeze up the shaft. Booker winces, vents opening up on the side of his neck to push out some overheated steam.

“Is it sensitive?” You sputter, Booker's thumb now pulled out to the very end, letting you speak normally.

“Very.” A string of saliva follows Booker’s thumb as he pulls it out of your mouth completely, connecting the two of you still together.

A glitchy moan comes when you reach the tapered head, liquid foaming around your fingers as you squeeze the tip. Seems he’s extra sensitive right there, something in common with human men.

You feel your mouth go dry, a desperate want spurring your heart into overdrive. “It’ll feel better inside you, darling.” The hand on your ass shoves you forward, pressing the cock right against your crotch, sending another bolt up your stomach. “I'm craving it, bad.”

So am I.

A bubbling well of pure giddy fills up your chest, has you quickly sitting up and aligning your eager hole with the tip. Booker’s hands move to grip onto your hips, using your love handles as they were intended.

You sink sensuously and slow down, eyes going cross as Booker’s cock stretches you open. The tapered shape helps alleviate any burn from not being prepared beforehand, inching you wide and wider until you finally sit at the base. The shape edges of Booker’s hip plating against your inner thigh sends tiny firecrackers across your skin.

“Damn, you’re even hotter on the inside, baby.”

You nod dumbly, too focused on the feeling of a warm cock deep inside you. Booker takes the opportunity to throw up his hips and legs, stealing the breath right out of your lung and sending you forward and into his chest. The thick wiring of his neck presses right into your nose, mind still wobbling from the quick shift.

“Let Daddy Booker take care of you, sweet cheeks.”

Something like an engine revs in Booker's stomach, the only warning you get of Booker's first thrust. Stars shoot out behind your eyelids, and know immediately that you are getting your money's worth.

Booker bounces on his cock like you weigh nothing, snapping his hips with such power and precision that all senses feel knocked out of your head.

“You like that baby?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh!” You mutter dumbly, already fucked stupid by his dick. His cock pulses form inside you, streams of that neon lube-like substance dripping down the sides making a squelching sound with each slap against your ass cheeks. Strings of it stick between your thighs and his, catching the light from his cabling and almost sparkling on his black exterior.

“Taking it so good, baby. Finally getting what you needed.” Booker growls in your ear, thos vents blowing hot air directly onto your face. “Fucked like the animal you are.”

Booker’s hands grip deep into your flesh, making indents on the skin as starts thrusting his hips up with every jolt of your body. It doubles the sensation inside you, and has pelvis tingling.

“Fuck!”

The bed underneath you rumbles and shakes, Booker’s large metal body putting immense strain on the cheap frame. Everything about him is big, big enough that you originally thought he was a war droid, ideal for busting down walls and snapping necks.

He’s busting something down, that's for sure.

Booker never once slows his pace, the only hint of exhaustion coming from the occasional exhale from his vents and subtle uptick in whirring from his systems. But even then they are subtle changes, his dick jutting in and out for what feels like hours. Long enough that your whole body almost feels numb, the kind of emptiness when all sensation is too much, when your brain short circuits and is about to burst.

“Can feel you squeezing me, darling. You gonna cum?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Then cum for me baby, show me how good daddy makes you feel.”

Your entire body quakes as your orgasm hits like a stack of bricks, back arched at an impossible angle as you scream into the night, no care for potential neighbors or bystanders on the busy street below. You almost miss the hot burst of something inside you, a stream of liquid filling up your insides, coming straight from the tapered tip pressed against the very edge of yourself.

Your breath fogs on Booker’s chest palting as you lay there, panting. He may be warm but your body is on fire, overwhelmed by his heat and sweat practically steaming off of you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, or being tucked into bed. You wake up the next morning with a cup of water by your bed, sticking to your sheets from dried sweat overnight.

You guzzle down the water, memories slowly piercing back together, wondering when Booker left.

There’s a note left by the water bottle, written in perfect penmanship and a business card left to the side.

For my new favorite client.

There’s a private comms number written down on the card, the kind droids used to communicate to one another or occasionally with non-robotics.

Guess you made a good impression.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #gender neutral reader #kinktober #x reader #kinktober 2024 #androids #robophilia #robot x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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Dirty Minds 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson

Summary: You start a new job after being fired as a programmer and it's more than you could have anticipated. (maid AU)

Note: I should stop.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Yeah, mom, I got the job,” you huff. “On my way right now. You really think Auntie would say no?”

“I know my sister,” your mother harrumphs from the other end. “She doesn’t do favours.”

“I mean, couldn’t she just give me some money instead of making me scrub floors,” you joke to the deathly silent speaker. “Alright, cool, well, guess I should go. I’m here.”

“Good luck,” your mom sighs. “Please don’t mess this up. Your father and I already postponed our vacation once.”

“I won’t,” you croak, deflated by the reminder. “Love ya.”

She hangs up without returning the sentiment. Yep, she’s still mad about that. You didn’t ask to be fired. Actually, you worked overtime and bent over backwards just to avoid the fate. It happened anyways. Every company in the state culled their numbers. Looks like your programming degree is now as coveted as English Lit.

You look up at the Upper East Side townhouse and suck your teeth. It’s just another reminder of everything you don’t have. Of everything you lost. Your order-in pad thai and sushi have given way to peanut butter on stale bread and canned soups. You can go without, it just stinks.

This should help. Aunt Jan says the job pays well if you do a good job. The more clients you can pick up, the better. For now, you’re starting out with one. Probation, she calls it. Even if your mom hates her sister, they’re more alike than she cares to admit.

You grunt as you swing the bucket of cleaning supplies with your steps up the concrete steps. The compact vacuum strapped to your back doesn’t aid in your struggle to maintain your balance. You couldn’t afford the rental fee for the company car so you schlupped everything here on the subway. Not ideal.

You put the kit down and tap the buzzer, struggling to catch your breath. There’s no answer. Jan said that might happen. Try again and if there’s no answer, let yourself in.

It’s not that complex, is it? You got through coding and calculus. You can figure out all those attachments for the vacuum. You hit the button again.

“Ah, welcome lady maid, you’ve come at last,” the booming lilted voice crackles from the speaker. You flinch. There’s a lens there too. You try to smile.

“Uh, hi,” you reply. “I was sent by the Agency.”

“Yes, yes, as Stark recommended. Please, come in. Ehhhh, which button....”

The door clicks and beeps as it unlocks. Wonderful. The blind leading the blind. That might be better. You definitely don’t need a stickler pointing out the streaks on the windows.

You push the door open and heave the bucket over the threshold. You take off your shoes and unhook the vacuum from your back. Should you start with the instructions in the app or go find your new boss?

You wander further in, sheepish as you look around the interior. There’s red satin strewn over the back of the French-style sofa and clunky boots beside it. And there’s a few takeout containers piled across from the large television. Oh, right, it definitely is a man.

“Lady maid? Is that you?” The voice calls through the doorway to your right.

You slowly follow it as you hear clinking from within. You peek into the kitchen and cry out at the scene. You don’t mean to stare at the naked ass but it’s the first thing that you see. The large man, with blond hair spilling past his shoulders, is nonchalant as he loads the coffee maker. Entirely naked!

“Uhhhhh.” Your voice unfurls dumbly and you bring your hand up to block your view. “Um. You—you're...”

“Oh my, yes, I do forget myself,” he chortles and searches around. He grabs an apron and ties it around his waist. “In Asgard, the natural form is not stigmatized. Rather, we do much unfettered. Cook, clean, wrestle.”

You reluctantly drop your hand as you’re face by the man and his immense chest. He’s huge. And familiar. He isn’t a man at all. He’s...

“Thor?” You utter dumbly.

“You know me? Did I perhaps save your cat?” He asks.

“No, I saw you... on TV.”

“Oh yes, how amusing. It was I!” He grins triumphantly. “They don’t always tell me when there are cameras.”

“Hm,” you nod awkwardly. “I... should I just start.”

“Ah, diligent maid, how admirable. To work so earnestly,” he praises and turns to grab his cup as the machine quits grinding. His ass is still out as the apron only conceals his front. You’re not going to get hung up on it. He’s probably hung too.

Wow. Wow. Keep your head above board.

“I’ll start out there,” you point over your shoulder.

“Whatever you like, lady maid.”

You retreat and try not to picture his muscular ass or statuesque shoulders or bright blue eyes. It must be a godly trick. You’re not one of those fan girls. You’re not pathetic like that.

You start in the living room. You open a bin bag and start to gather the containers. A fan of burritos, you see. You make your way around the surfaces. You should be methodic. Clutter first, then floors.

You continue back into the entryway and organize the shoe rack. You hang the cloak left on the sofa and take the boots over to the mat. There’s several cloaks and many shoes and boots. The green satin holds your curiosity. You didn’t think that was his colour.

You carry on through each room, avoiding the kitchen as long as you can. You go into the bathroom, bracing yourself. You wipe off an errant glop of toothpaste and some darker hair strands near the drain. Those are black, not blond.

A groan tickles your ear and you glance over as a shadow steps into the doorway. The lithe figure stretches his arms above him as he tilts his head back, arching so his chest puffs out and his... bits dangle freely. You squeal and cover your eyes.

“Oh god!” You cry out.

“So I am,” the other Asgardian sweeps in without bother, brushing by you as he approaches the toilet.

“Uhhhh, oh, oh,” you squeak as he flips up the lid. “Jeez!”

You hurry out of the bathroom and swing the door shut behind you as his stream hits the water loudly. You stand on the other side, breathless in shock. That was him. Loki!

You don’t know what’s more off putting. The shameless nudity or that you’ve been assigned to clean up after two gods. Not just gods, avengers. Well, at least Thor.

It doesn’t matter. You’re here to clean, so keep your eyes and your brain under control. You don’t need Aunt Jan getting a complaint, even if this is the last job you wanted.

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #dark loki #dark!loki #loki #loki x reader #thor x reader #series #drabble #dirty minds #maid au #avengers #marvel #mcu

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liberalsarecool · 4 days ago

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After reflecting further on Piers Akerman's recent assertion that my analysis of the situation in the Middle East was "utter bullshit" and not tethered to reality, I realised how angry that made me feel. As a white, elderly, Anglo-Saxon male, I believe I have earned the right to be most distressed by Western privilege and the arrogance which so often distorts reality, much like a fairground mirror. It paints Palestinians as irrational terrorists and Iranians as fanatical mobs, erasing the colonial fingerprints smeared across their histories. That is the real bullshit.

Take Iran: a democracy overthrown in 1953 by Anglo-American operatives for the crime of nationalizing its oil. The CIA’s coup reinstated the Shah—a tyrant whose torture squads (trained by SAVAK and Mossad) disappeared thousands. When Iranians finally revolted in 1979, the West recoiled not at the Shah’s brutality but at the loss of a pliant client. Now, the same powers that strangled Iranian democracy lecture its theocrats on human rights—a grotesque pantomime.

I am sorry to say that Netanyahu embodies this hypocrisy. He rails against Iran’s "aggression" while annexing Palestinian land, arms settlers who burn olive groves, and starves Gaza into submission. His hysteria over Iran’s nuclear program (still unproven after decades of sanctions) mirrors the WMD lies he helped sell in 2003. Remember his cartoon bomb stunt at the UN? Pure theatre. What truly terrifies him isn’t ayatollahs with centrifuges but a regional order where Israel isn’t the unchecked hegemon.

The West has perfected a sinister alchemy of psychological inversion—an Orwellian recalibration of language that transforms resistance into terrorism, domination into peace, and sovereignty into existential threat. When Hamas fires rockets, it's decried as barbarism, while Israel's 56-year occupation of Palestinian land vanishes from view like morning mist. Apartheid walls that carve up stolen territory are rebranded as "security measures", their concrete brutality softened by bureaucratic euphemisms. Iran's civilian nuclear program sparks apocalyptic warnings, while Israel's arsenal of 90 thermonuclear warheads—never inspected, never acknowledged—sits quietly in the Negev desert. This linguistic jujitsu doesn't merely describe reality; it manufactures it, ensuring Western audiences see only mirrors and shadows where power and oppression stand plain as day.

I urge you to consider that none of this emerged in a vacuum. The US and UK engineered the Middle East’s instability—from Sykes-Picot’s arbitrary borders to arming Saddam against Iran, then crying havoc when blowback came. October 7th didn’t erupt from ancient hatreds; it was the predictable eruption of a people caged, humiliated, and drone-struck for generations. To focus solely on Hamas’ atrocities while ignoring Israel’s 56-year occupation is like condemning a burning man for screaming.

There can be no meaningful progress without first confronting uncomfortable truths. The West must reckon with its destructive legacy—the CIA's 1953 coup in Iran that strangled democracy, the 1967 war that birthed an occupation now in its sixth decade, and the 2003 invasion of Iraq based on fabricated WMD claims. These aren't ancient histories but open wounds that continue to shape regional dynamics. Pretending otherwise isn't diplomacy; it's willful blindness.

Netanyahu's hysterical warnings about "existential threats" must be exposed for what they are—not genuine security concerns but a naked fear of justice. His real nightmare isn't Iranian centrifuges but the collapse of the apartheid system that preserves Jewish supremacy from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean. Every settlement expansion, every Gaza blockade, and every racist nation-state law reveals the true project: not coexistence but permanent domination.

We must fearlessly reject the false symmetry of "both sides" narratives. While Israelis live with the psychological trauma of potential violence, Palestinians endure the daily reality of military checkpoints, land theft, and indiscriminate bombardment. Comparing Hamas rockets to Israel's occupation is like comparing a slingshot to a tank battalion—technically both weapons, but existing in fundamentally different universes of destructive power. True peace begins when we stop equating the oppressed with their oppressors.

The future demands more than temporary ceasefires. It requires dismantling the myths that let the West play both arsonist and firefighter. Otherwise, we’re just counting the days until the next explosion.

#iran #israel #netanyahu

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nnon0 · 10 months ago

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JJH fic recs #3

previous fic recs : 1. 2.

note: hey yall ik it’s been a while ive been busy with life and truth be told, it’s been getting pretty hard to find good fics to recommend cuz i feel like ive read them all 😭😭😭 anyway jaehyun’s SOLO REVIVED ME SO IM BACK 😜 but this post is going to be an active post meaning ill keep adding fics so there will be more everytime. happy reading!

(🫀) - personal faves

(🫀) TRY AGAIN @kaleidohscopic

WC:32.4k

exes to lovers, coworkers! au

if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side.

summer of seven years @lebrookestore

WC:30k

summer!au writer!jaehyun

Coming back home was hard for both you and Jaehyun, but when you realize both of you are back in the same place again, feelings from three years ago rise to the surface, and you start to realize that the things you thought you knew when you were younger never quite played out.

(🫀)His love, Her force @anashins

WC:28k

Undercover detective!jaehyun x ballerina!reader , fake marriage au, slow burn

Fleeing from a ruthless stalker, you are forced to participate in a witness protection program at the other side of the world, pretending to be the wife of a taciturn undercover detective from now on. Despite all differences, you slowly start to settle with your new life as a married couple - until your newfound happiness is stripped away from you all over again.

TOO YOUNG TO MARRY @anashins

WC:24k

Lawyer!jaehyun x divorcee reader

Jaehyun has a ruthless, cruel and not so legal way of getting his clients everything they want out of their divorce. After all, to do the job right, a lawyer like him is not supposed to believe something like 'love' exists in the first place. That is until he meets his next client who also has a not so legal way of creeping right into his heart and make him question all his morals

(🫀) BAD HABITS @jaedore

WC:21k

Boxer!jaehyun

You were never really good at saying ‘no’ to people, always a people pleaser, listening to your teachers, parents, to authority. Jung Jaehyun is a professional boxer attempting to make it to the top with the help of your father, who used to be a well known boxer. Being in a friends with benefits relationship with Jaehyun would be the last thing you’d find yourself in-you’re always focused on finishing college, studying hard, and sticking to yourself. With you pushing your feelings down for him and him focused on other things, you’re already in too deep to pull out of this complication. When will it be too much? When is your breaking point?

(🫀) cynosure - a focal point of admiration @drquinzelharleen

WC:20.4k

surgeon!jaehyun , enemies-to-lovers

When the young hot shot doctor, Jung Jaehyun, has been solicited to your hospital. He is to become the new Chief of Surgery. Your excitement and curiosity are soon to be washed away by his cocky disposition.

no guidance @yutaholic

WC:20k

knocked up, smut, pregnancy au

You insist on keeping things casual with Jaehyun, even though he wants something more serious, but then you miss a period and in an instant, your lives are turned completely upside down.

happy now? @hwaflms

wc: 19.9k

ex!jaehyun, fake dating au

your family has been pressuring you for months to bring your boyfriend, jaehyun, over for dinner, and you think it’s really sweet that they like him so much. the only problem is that your “boyfriend” jaehyun, hates you.

The Cat Burgler’s Heist @vnti-vnxiety-recs

WC:19.6k

ceo!jaehyun x cat burgler!reader

When you attempt to rob a wealthy businessman, things don't go as planned. Instead of calling the police, he offers you a job. Now, you're left uncertain about whether you can truly start anew or if your past will come back to haunt you.

(🫀) ordinary people @ppangjae

WC: 18.3k

friends-to-lovers, fake dating!au, ceo!jaehyun

Jaehyun’s parents are coming home for Christmas and he may have made the biggest mistake of telling them he has a ‘girlfriend’. Insert you, his best friend, who so happens to be the only girl he knows and trusts. You, on the other hand, would have never expected Jaehyun to show up at your door at two in the morning with nothing but a proposition; to be his fake girlfriend. And man, are you in big trouble.

(🫀)ethereal @celestialmark

WC: 16.7k

fluff, life lessons

(note: shed a tear reading this it was so beautiful i highly highly recommend)

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside

(🫀)SUN&MOON @ppangjae

WC:14.6k

enemies-to-lovers, fake dating

Asking Jeong Jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week Christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. One can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

(🫀) chasing stars, losing you @prodbymaui

WC: 14k

exes to lovers, ceo!jaehyun x model!reader

When your relationship got announced, it made noises louder that anyone could've imagined. Of course it will, a pair containing a supermodel and a CEO of one of the most successful enterprise that made a name in both the fashion and business industry. But soon enough, everyone witnessed how the perfect relationship they had been envying crumbled down into tiny pieces until there's nothing left to pick up.

(🫀) if we were a movie @sehunniepotwrites

WC:14k

childhood friends to lovers!au , college au , theatre/drama au

For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

model cowboy @smileysuh

WC:13.2k

actor!jaehyun x singer!reader, enemies to lovers, fake dating

You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun's motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.

oops, baby (i love you) @prodbymaui

WC:12.5k+

modern royalty au, arranged marriage

you had been living your life as a rebellious and controversial crown princess, now you must face the consequence of purifying your tainted image; marrying the gentle and infamous crown prince of South Korea.

deadly kiss @slightlymore

WC: 12k+

chief architect jaehyun x chief engineer fem reader

office au, enemies? to lovers, dom x dom and trying to force each other to sub, romance, smut, fluff

(🫀) FEELINGS @ppangjae

WC:11.6k

f2l!au, fake dating! au

After many failed first dates, Jaehyun decides to take matters into his own hands and teach you how they work and what you should do to guarantee yourself a second date. But of course, this is just a plan that’s set up for failure.

in your court @boymeetsweevil

WC:10.8k

basketball player!jaehyun , bff!haechan

Two idiots in love, oc is scary when mad, hyuck is crafty always, jae is a bit intense but he’s just trying his best, gratuitous descriptions of dimples, a kiss!!! sfw!

coparenting @eleganzadellarosa

wc: 10.3k

angst, fluff smut

babydaddy!Jaehyun x fem!reader

(🫀)SEVEN LETTERS @ppangjae

WC: 10.1k+

soulmate!au , childhood friends-to-lovers , slight fake dating

On a camping trip, you find a message in a bottle that’s been washed up the shore, only to find out that it’s a message from you in the future. Your message tells you three things:

1. You must make Jeong Jaehyun fall in love with you because,

2. He’s your soulmate and

3. Because of your future self’s mistake, he ended up falling in love with someone else.

the wedding @jae-canikeepyou

WC:9.5k

rivals!jaehyun fluff-crackish

jeong jaehyun’s your long-time friend, and as far as one could remember, every single and little thing you both do ends to a competition; it turned into a permanent kind of relationship you have for over a decade now. no one expects that it would ever change, not until a childhood friend of yours from high school decides to make you two as his singers for his upcoming wedding.

one more time @moondustis

WC:9.4k

smut, friends to lovers

Maybe this right here is a story about growing up and finding yourself, or about finding love and being vulnerable. But it definitely is a story about friendship, skating, pancakes and Jung Jaehyun learning how to deal with his feelings.

(🫀) rose bud @hazyhae

WC:9.2k

stoner!fuckboy!jaehyun , smut

friday nights are party nights, and it's here that your feet always seem to lead you to your favorite stoner. you know the sweet words that leave jaehyun's mouth don't belong just to you, but something about him leaves you wanting more.

baby @moonctzeny

wc:9.1k

college au, fake dating!au

When Yuta breaks your heart for the millionth time, you meet Jaehyun, freshly broken up and looking for revenge. You decide to start fake dating to get back on your exes, but your plan takes an unexpected turn. You fall in love.”

when fratboy falls @gyeomsweetgyeom

WC: 8.9k

fratboy!jaehyun x tutor!reader

Jaehyun is a fratboy with a notorious reputation for being a playboy, you have never heard of him. surely, he can use tutoring as an excuse to get close to you, right?

hello again, my sunshine @alluringjae

WC:8.5k

high school reunion!au, business lawyer!jaehyun, fashion designer!reader, high school best friends to strangers to lovers!au

there’s no more running away when you’re thriving in the fashion industry, yet it’s exactly what you want to do when you encounter your first love after a decade in your high school reunion.

(🫀) The lies of apollo @jaevie

WC:8k

Spy!jaehyun x spy!reader , forbidden love , smut , enemies to lovers

As powerful corporations seek to sun privatization, two spies find themselves falling in love and discovering the wonders of physical affection.

Head over Broomsticks @sehunniepotwrites

WC: 3.5k

Hogwarts!au Sports!au Quidditch!au Gryffindor!jaehyun

When your friends are tired of watching you and your crush go around in circles, they take matters into their own hands. Putting their Advanced Potions skills to the test, Donghyuck and Chenle conjure up a powerful truth serum and slip it in your drink right before a Quidditch game, which leads to a few inappropriate comments about No. 77, Jeong Jaehyun, of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team. This would’ve been fine if you were just a regular spectator but you are much more than that--you’re the Announcer and everyone is subjected to hear your unfiltered thoughts. Just great.

SERIES

(🫀) when icarus falls @baobaojng

college athlete!au , crush!au

(note: this series genuinely brought me to tears btw I HIGHLY RECOMMEND )

some tragic story of you sharing one class with your long time college crush jaehyun who never notices you until he accidentally reads your work and he gets curious— oh, and he uses lame excuses to get to talk to you.

344 notes · View notes

luminique · 6 months ago

Text

Fate, Hollows, Grief and Lighter.

cw // mentions of death, angst, comfort. 4.8k words, not proofread, lighter x gn reader. happy birthday lighter !

You don’t have to be an expert to understand that hollows are confusing. There’s a lot of mystery that goes around them despite the amount of resources that is put into its research. Everyday, it’s some new discovery, some new technology, some new treatment related to them. You told Burnice to switch through the other channels on the mini television at the bar, you didn’t get much of the newer shows in the Outer Ring but you did get the boring news channel.

“Joining us for today’s program is Miss Hoshimi Miyabi from the Hollow Special Operations Section 6. I believe that she needs little to no introduction as your team has been making the rounds online with the most recent case,” a man wearing a black suit, presumably the host, guided the camera over to the thiren next to him with his hand. You’ve seen her before, the proxies that the Sons of Calydon have worked with also mentioned Section 6 as one of their clients. Not everyone can just step into a hollow, even the proxies themselves don’t go in there willingly.

After a moment of silence between the host and Hoshimi Miyabi, the man finally breaks the ice. “Well, we are not here to discuss the controversy; however, there has been a recent discovery regarding the hollows. According to the White Star Institute, your team was able to control Hollow Zero and noticed how time was affected in there. Can you please elaborate on that?” The host was clearly uncomfortable by her quiet demeanor, thinking he’d be interviewing someone who was not as unapproachable as her.

Time, huh? That’s nothing new, even the Tour de Inferno had improved its recording equipment in order to reduce the delay between the inside and outside of the hollow. “Yes, due to its high ether energy, Hollow Zero has the ability to manipulate time, causing us to fight ethereals we had initially already taken down.” The fox thiren finally spoke, her voice was clear and confident, fitting for a chief. The host beamed at her answer, you could see the worry in his eyes when she took a moment to respond to him. “Were there any other anomalies aside from that? The claim coming from the White Star Institute is rather large and I believe that viewers at home would love to hear your experience.”

Lighter notices you staring at the screen intently, it was a rare sight for you to be so engrossed in such a show. He taps the counter a couple of times as he sat on the stool next to you, Burnice immediately understood what that gesture meant. His hand came up to your side, resting it on your hip. “Didn’t know you were into this kind of thing,” his smooth voice cut through your train of thought. You barely even noticed him, finally back from a few small fights but barely even a scratch on his face.

“They’re talking about hollows, those proxy friends of yours should know more about it than this old man on the screen.” you pointed the remote at the screen, not changing the channel though. “My deputy chief, Tsukishiro, found herself reliving a moment from her past relating to another member of my team. Asaba said that he was beginning to see the same ethereal over and over again. For me, on the other hand….” a moment of silence from the young lady as her hands gripped on her neat skirt. “I was able to see other possibilities of my past decisions and how they’d affect my current self.” Her usual commanding voice began to sound slightly weak and shaky yet her expression never faltered.

It slowly clicked in your head. This new discovery was not the simple time manipulation that had been publicly known for years, it was instead a lot more complex. A lot scarier, a lot more complicated and even went into the realm of alternate timelines. Was that even possible? Time travel and theories of alternate timelines have been one of humankind’s biggest questions. Would this not have been found out earlier while researching other hollows? Every smaller hollow around Eridu came from the existence of Hollow Zero, what made those any different?

You turn to look at Lighter, his usual laid back demeanor now mirrored yours. He hadn’t even touched his drink once since Miyabi had spoken. “Now look who’s the one staring at the TV,” you teased as you pushed on his shoulder lightly. His sunglasses slipped down his nose bridge, he cleared his throat as he pushed his shades up. “I just thought it was interesting, nothing more,” he pretended to not show how much that information meant to him.

If you could do it all over again, would you? The opportunity was presented right at him, albeit from a boring show on the TV. Rarely was it ever on this channel, as Burnice would normally choose to have it on some sort of sports or music channel. However, she’d listen to her customer in front of her and on this early evening, it was only you sitting there.

The thought was intriguing, he did have a higher ether aptitude than most. Venturing into hollows alone, with a carrot, wasn’t anything new to him, especially not after the passing of his fallen comrades. He doesn’t know exactly where they were last but he’d often bring flowers to where he found their dog tags, at least he knew they were there at one point. He knew that time worked differently inside the hollows, communication becoming an issue inside and outside of it, but he didn’t know anything more than that was capable.

No, no. He can’t just go into Hollow Zero and come out unscathed like it’s a normal fight. He could live his whole life not knowing what would’ve happened if he had chosen to go with them but the knowledge that he can, at least, see its possibility… that was eating at him. After you had teased him, the idea was still there. Who wouldn’t want to know what happened during that one moment in their life? Who wouldn’t want to know the answer to ‘what if’ and ‘if only’? He shook his head, trying to get rid of the curiosity building up in him.

Cold glass, the refreshing drink that he had gotten accustomed to since joining the Sons of Calydon now tasted bitter. No lollipop in his pocket to distract him from his thoughts. Another harsh swallow, he placed the glass back on the counter. “Do you want another glass? Maybe some Nitro-Fuel instead?” Burnice’s cheerful self was always ready to fill a glass up despite knowing that he doesn’t prefer the taste of Nitro-Fuel on its own. Now though, it sounded just perfect to make him forget this information.

Night time came, the howling winds kept Lighter awake. Usually he would have passed out already from the amount of Nitro-Fuel he drank but for some odd reason, he couldn’t now. It wasn’t odd at all, he knew why he was awake. Haunted by the memories of a not-so-distant past, the voices of his comrades rang in his ears as he got up from his bed. His bright red scarf that contrasted his usual outfit, was now stuffed deeply into his jacket. The soft clinging of the dog tags were now muffled by his scarf, his heavy footsteps making his way out to his bike. The only way to forget is to completely kill a man, erase his memories and the possibilities that he can come up with.

With his past as mercenary leader, getting to Hollow Zero wasn’t a mystery. Many have gone there in hopes of getting rich, finding some sort of ethereal matter, or maybe searching for whatever was left of the person they once were. Dodging a few military bases, back roads and, going through smaller hollows, Lighter found himself right at the edge of Hollow Zero. There were a few close calls on his way here, but nothing a Carrot can’t solve. The convenience of modern technology, able to find the safest route out and predict any new changes in the course of being in the Hollow. If only they could predict the possibility of his friends passing that day.

He parked his bike, brought the little bangboo off his bike and took a deep breath. “Lighter…” He heard the faint whispers of his name as he stepped into the pitch black sphere, the voices sounded oddly familiar to him. An older breathier male voice, a deeper younger male voice, and a reassuring female voice all coming together to call for his name. No, he can’t be hearing things. He was still young and had just entered the hollow. Signs of corruption did not include hallucinations, nor did it include any sort of hearing problems. He ventured deeper into the hollow, bangboo by his side to make sure he’d make his way out.

Ethereals came at him but they were no match, one after another. A swift punch before landing his finishing blows on them, he dusted off the little bits of burnt etheric matter off his shoulders. “Lighter! There you are!” He immediately prepared himself for another fight, quickly looking around for the source of that voice. No ethereal was in sight however, maybe it was paranoia striking him once more. He decided to take a break somewhere off to the side, taking a serum to reduce ether corruption. He closed his eyes, the rubble of the Fallen Eridu surrounding him as he was taken back to his days of a mercenary leader.

He remembers it like it was just yesterday. The smiles on their face, the laughter, the drinks, the bets, everything that your typical mercenary group does. They were his comrades, his friends, his family at the time. He was still new to leading a team, choosing to go for the higher paying jobs in the hollows rather than outside work. He’d come back with a few bruises here and there, getting patched up while trying to split up the money they received. The hands of Dane scruffing Lighter’s hair, or Nick reminding him to stop smoking, or Ratena drinking another pint of Nitro-Fuel with him. He could see and feel those memories so vividly…

“We’ll be heading out now, Boss.” Dane gave a hearty pat on Lighter’s shoulder, a firm goodbye grip to tell him to rest. Lighter chuckled as Dane finally let go,“It still sounds weird…” he added on, believing that such a title isn’t fit for him just yet. “Ratena, you got the med kit ready?” He asked the tomboy-looking female who was always prepared when it came to injuries. Even his now fractured arm was taken care of by her, proving her deep knowledge in the field of first aid. She nodded towards him with a small wave of her supplies in hand, “All ready, Lighter!” Nick gave a weary smile, one that was oddly energetic for a much older man than everyone else in the group.

“Take care, everyone. Remember what we’re going in there for, retrieve the item and receive our cash,” everyone looked towards their leader, Lighter giving them one last reminder before they headed off. All of their dog tags hung around their necks, reflecting the bright sunlight and Lighter’s own reflection. “Be back safely!” Dane’s little sister began waving goodbye as they watched the team head off straight into the hollow. Lighter knew of the dangers that they could face while in there, especially with the lack of a Carrot. Those don’t go for cheap however, good and reliable info about hollows aren’t easy to come by at low prices.

That final goodbye would serve to be his biggest regret in life. A wound that can never be healed no matter the amount of times he went back to the last place he found their tags. He had called out for them and yet no response, shouting into an endless void. What would’ve happened if he had followed them that day, not heeding their advice and sacrificing himself alongside them. Non-existent answers to a question that has ruined a young man of his own mental freedom.

Boss… Kiddo…. Lighter….

Was he going insane again? He opened his eyes, expecting to see nothing just like before but this time, he was outside of his old mercenary camp. A distant woof could be heard as an eager dog ran right up to him, pouncing onto him. ‘What? This… this isn’t right…’ Lighter thought to himself. Was this some sort of deja vu? A dream of some sort? The dog licks Lighter’s face, excitedly panting and sniffing him. This felt a little too real for him, running his hand through its soft fur.

“Lighter! We got another commission today. Gotta go into this hollow, grab this ‘mysterious item’ and they’re paying us big time,” Dane came up behind him and petted the dog, throwing a small ball to allow Lighter to get up. Lighter turned around, seeing the large man with his familiar beanie towering over him. He fell back, not believing what he was seeing. Was he dead? They do say that the brain replays the best moments of one’s life before death, but this seemed less like a memory and more like reality.

This was just the day before their deaths, was this his second chance? “I was able to see other possibilities of my past decisions and how they’d affect my current self,” the fox thiren’s experience now making sense as he looked up at his should-be-dead companion. “U-uh yeah. Dane, sorry but I don’t think we should accept this mission,” Lighter grabbed Dane’s hand, his fractured one still healing in its cast. Dane blinked at his teal-haired leader in confusion, not expecting him to decline such an offer. They walked back into the home, Ratena and Nick coming up to them with big smiles on their faces.

As Ratena tended to Lighter’s fractured arm, they all discussed their plan regarding the new mission. “They said it’s just a box, bring it back safely and then we’ll get paid,” Dane said with lots of enthusiasm, playing around with his little sister. Nick gave a hearty chuckle, petting the dog as he spoke, “It’s not easy, my boy. Look at what happened to Lighter the last time we went into a hollow.” Both men looked over to Lighter, seeing the effects of an ethereal attack and Nick being physically unfit to keep up with the rest of the group. Before Ratena could give her input, Lighter interjected with the knowledge of their future. “I really don’t think we should go. Hollows are dangerous and just like Nick said, ethereals are no joke.” Lighter hoped they would understand him without him needing to explain to them why they shouldn’t go.

Ratena shook her head, “Oh c’mon Lighter, you don’t trust us? We got out safely last time and we made big bucks.” Safely? Was having a fractured arm considered safe? Was bleeding out his side considered safe? “Guys, you can’t be serious.” Lighter was in disbelief, he remembered his initial response in his past. He had agreed wholeheartedly to the offer, thinking that such a huge sum of cash was what they all needed to live better lives. Now with his knowledge, he didn’t want to lose them. Not again, he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

“Yeah boss, we know how hard you’re working. You gotta rest up and we’re more than capable of taking down those ethereals.” Dane gave him a wolfish grin, clearly oblivious to why Lighter was so against all of this in the first place. “We’ll leave in the morning, be back by sunset.” Nick had the whole plan laid out on the table, trying his best to reassure their worried leader. Everyone went to their sleeping quarters that night but Lighter couldn’t sleep at all knowing what would happen to them. He laid awake in his cold bed that his body used to find solace in, but now reminded him of the hard shell of a coffin.

Sunlight came streaming through the windows, Lighter was the first to get up, the rest unknown to his lack of sleep. Everything replayed exactly as it did on that fateful day; Dane placing his hand on Lighter’s shoulder, Ratena waving her first aid kit in the air, Nick’s energetic smile that highlighted his wrinkles. He can’t relive this, he can’t let this happen. “W-wait!” They all turned back to him, stopping right in their tracks. Lighter had already told them to take care, what else was there to be said? ‘Don’t die’? ‘Don’t go’? ‘You’ll all die and I won’t be able to find you’? He had recurring nightmares of this exact moment multiple times before this and yet, the words were stuck in his throat. “I’ll miss all of you.” Lighter couldn’t stop them, even if he tried. Fate is cruel in that way, never is it a choice, unable to be changed. As he watched them leave again, tears began to prick his olive eyes. He closed his eyes, trying to blink away those tears but also look away from his regrettable decision.

The sandpaper-like wet and warm muscle went up Lighter’s cheek again. He blinked open his eyes, seeing the familiar sight of yesterday. Was this some sort of hell? A never-ending cycle of living his lifelong burden he carried with him. As expected, Dane’s voice could be heard once more, grabbing Lighter up from the ground and bringing him back into the camp. As expected, they had planned to take up the offer because money is money and they were mercenaries first and foremost.

He was determined this time. If he couldn’t stop them from going, at the very least he had to make sure to go with them. Ever since that day, he had been yearning for death. If Fate won’t change his friends’ passing, maybe it will be kind enough to change his. “I’ll go along,” Lighter’s confident voice cut through their chatter. “But boss, you’re being stretched thin.” “Your condition still isn’t fit for a mission in a hollow.” “Take it from an old man, you deserve the rest, son.” All of them gave their own concerns to Lighter’s suggestion–arguably, it sounded closer to an order rather than a suggestion–but he didn’t want to listen to them. He was adamant, also having his own power as their leader to push himself into this plan. He was willing to do anything, not caring about his injuries. With little to no luck, they accepted his persistence, each slowly heading off to bed to prepare for the early morning.

He had dreamt of this possibility for days, maybe even months. His body was definitely not in the best shape but if he could spend just a few more minutes with his comrades, his limbs could be torn off by an ethereal and he’d still smile through it all. It all played out exactly as his memories, this time he was joining them. As they walked together towards the hollow, Lighter began to feel dizzy. His vision slowly blurred, however his companions continued to walk forward.

“Dane! Nick! Ratena!” Lighter called out to them, yet they didn’t turn around, not even taking a moment to stop. “No, no, no no no no NO-” He tried running towards them but the distance just kept getting further and further. Running infinitely, trying to catch up to them but with his poor condition and slowly darkening eyesight, he couldn’t continue anymore. He came to a stop, looking down to his feet and seeing something shine in the dust. As he bent down, his eyes widened in surprise. It was their dog tags; Dane, Nick, and Ratenna, but there was one more with its name turned over. Lighter Lorenz. His name. How was that possible? His hand immediately went to his neck, searching for his tag that always hung around there. It wasn’t there. That was his dog tag, on the ground, with the rest of his mercenary companions.

He fell to his knees, understanding the possible outcome of this decision he could’ve made back then. Who would have found these if it weren’t him? Who would carry on their stories if he had gone along with them? What does that mean for his current present self? Questions bounced around in his head, holding those dog tags close to his chest. Tears began to trickle down his face once more, sadness being a common emotion at the end of all of these possibilities.

As he blinked away those tears, his surroundings had also changed. His bangboo would’ve notified him if he walked into a fissure so there was no way that he did. The setting sun of the Outer Ring burned his pupils, a scenery that he has become more than accustomed to since joining the Sons of Calydon. He hadn’t made any regretful decisions since joining, so there has got to be a reason that he’s experiencing this random day again.

He heard footsteps coming up behind him, followed by the sounds of feminine laughter. Despite being called the Sons of Calydon, it was a biker gang filled with mainly women. Currently, he is their champion, always winning and never turning down a challenge. They all stood side by side next to him, joking and teasing around with each other. “Caesar! Did you use my makeup again?” Lucy was trying her best to pull the tall green-grey haired woman down to her height. Piper barely kept her eyes open while Burnice was drinking another pint of Nitro-Fuel down as they all watched the sunset together.

“I can always buy you more makeup, Lucy.” Lighter offered, his used to be young voice was now a lot deeper. None of them replied to him though; Caesar and Lucy still argued with each other, Piper was trying her best to stand up straight, Burnice started playing her songs. Was he being intentionally ignored? He remembers this moment, him heading out to Lumina Square and there he met you. His life had fully turned around when he joined the Sons of Calydon, understanding what it meant to be a Champion. Not just theirs, but yours as well. He had people he wanted to protect, disasters he wanted to prevent.

Fate played its tricks on him once more. He had his ‘second chance’, choosing to die alongside his comrades and now he had to ‘live’ as a ghost. Lighter was slowly trying to figure out how Hollow Zero was affecting his memories and ‘fate’. None of this was real–he knew that at least–but he had to admit that it felt real. Would he be satisfied with death? Would he be satisfied with his story not having a proper ending? His movie could be hours long, but after 30 minutes, there would be an abrupt black screen.

‘The aim of all life is death. Only there can we find true peace.’

This wasn’t the peace that he wanted. He craved closure, real end credits to his tragic documentary. If the aim is death, then he’ll live until he’s tired of it. Until his face becomes sore from smiling with you, until his taste buds turn numb with the lingering after notes of Nitro-Fuel, until his eyesight becomes hazy from the bright lights of the city, until his ears start ringing because of everyone’s laughter.

He yearned for death, believing that regret was all he could carry in his heart. Love and companionship changes a person, losing it turns them into a monster. He knows how it feels to have survivor’s guilt, he now knows how it feels to have so much love left to give but ultimately ripped away from him. Care, love, remorse, regret, they all went hand in hand when it came to Lighter, he can’t have one without the other. Tough decisions, bad mistakes but they all ultimately led him to where he was now.

He felt the Outer Ring’s breeze brush his face, a soft and gentle reminder of his new home and his new family.

Lighter opened his eyes once more, a small LED screen with crying eyes were barely inches away from his face. His hand went up to give the little bangboo a pat on the head, making it immediately spring back to life. “Hey, little guy. You think you can get us out of here?” Lighter asked as he slowly pushed himself up, seeing a few ethereals around. The bangboo began running through the hollow, following its Carrot to find the nearest exit out of Hollow Zero.

A couple of punches before swiftly sliding away. His top priority was to get out safely, not to fight every ethereal in his path. This ever changing maze proved to be difficult to navigate, the poor bangboo constantly finding a new route. After winding through the ruins of Old Eridu, they finally made it out of Hollow Zero. Further away from where they initially entered, however nothing too far to walk to. The sun was beginning to rise now, painting the sky in light gold hues. As he drove back to Blazewood, he took in the early morning sights of the Outer Ring. After living in the shadows for so long, he remembers his first purchase since being saved by Big Daddy. He used a little bit of the money to purchase his first and only pair of sunglasses. In order to help him acclimatize to bright life above those fighting rings while helping him with his hemophobia and eye injury, he thought that the shades would be a good start to his new chapter. Everything was a change of pace, including these.

“Lighter! There you are!” He immediately froze up. Those were the same words he heard in the Hollow. Was he still in there? He got off his bike and turned around slowly, preparing himself to see nothing again. “Where were you? I was worried sick last night when I went over to your room and you didn’t respond.” Your concerned voice put him at ease as he looked at you. “Uh um… my bad. Just… wanted to go for a late night drive,” his voice was shaky, hoping you wouldn’t see through his lie. Your brows furrowed as you looked him up and down, he felt as though he should just die because of your intense gaze. “Without me?? Next time I go to Lumina Square, I am not buying you the super pack of lollipops,” you teased him. He let out the biggest sigh of relief, for once not worrying about whether he’d get his favorite grape-flavored lollipop.

He removed his glove off of his hand and brought it up the side of your face. Your soft skin under his calloused hands, this felt like his true reality. He could see the way you scrunched up your nose, your eyebrows raised as he began caressing your cheek. “I missed you,” he whispered out, just loud enough for you to hear. It was still early in the morning, not as many people out just yet so he could allow himself this vulnerability for just a moment. Especially after realizing the possibility of never seeing you again, never seeing the girls again, he doesn’t know if he’s ready to go just yet. “What are you saying? Did you hit your head on a cactus?” Your hand went up to his, cupping it against your face as you nuzzled into him. He couldn’t give this up, never in his wildest dreams could he imagine a decision better than what he made back then.

“I just thought I should tell you. I lo-“ just as he was about to finish his words, Piper comes up in Steeltusk, parking the truck right next to the both of you. “You youngsters are so energetic these days…” She commented as she filled up the truck with some fuel, chuckling to herself. Both of you turned a little red, Lighter especially. Everyone knew of your relationship and yet it was still a little embarrassing to be so outwardly in love with each other. Lighter cleared his throat, thinking that Piper was still the same as she was in his memories. The rest of the girls were probably still asleep but this was all he needed to confirm that he was indeed out of that damned hollow.

With your hand in his, he knew what was waiting for him at the end of his life. The Sons of Calydon that he sworn to always win for, his mercenary comrades that haunts him every night, the friends he had made through the Tour de Inferno, and his love that was willing to be with him through it all. Fate is unfair, humans do not have the power to change what has already been decided. However, being human means having the power to live your life to its fullest, accepting what fate has in store and learning from it. Lighter will carry his regrets and burdens with him, over into the afterlife and even when all he becomes is a humble cactus to poke you.

#lumiwrites ˚✧₊⁎☆#lighter zzz #lighter lorenz #zzz lighter #lighter zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero lighter #lighter angst #lighter comfort #lighter x reader #lighter x gn reader #zenlezz zone zero #zenless zone zero fics #my longest post to date #quite proud of this #but still believing that i could have done this better #happy birthday lighter #lighter x you #he deserves a big hug actually #sobbing crying i hope yall like this

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soulrox · 7 months ago

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DPxDC # -19 Worldbuilding

This is a cumulation of a few prior post ideas and new ones altogether. I'm truly building how Amity Park could be affected by ghosts.

Lady Amy is the city spirit of Amity Park. She had started to come into being during the witch-hunting era of Amity. But until the portal was opened she was an invisible observer of her citizens, unable to truly interact. Lady Amy quickly gained more presence thanks to the constant supply of clean concentrated Ecto coming from the portal.

Daniel Fenton a child who lived and died, but still lives, a half-life, is the one she cares for the most. A child so young is heavily burdened thanks to his own parents' actions/inactions. She helps Danny by making sure his parents and the G.I.W. are unable to hit him. Nudges the shots just slightly so they miss. Helps guide him to safe areas away from people when he's overwhelmed. Danny would be the first person she would speak to.

Years down the line after the G.I.W. has been taken down, Lady Amy really comes out to play. (Good fention parent reaction? or run outta town?) The citizens of Amity Park have learned the truth about ghosts and the Infinity Realms thanks to Danny being crowned king. Lady Amy would tailor her city to suit the needs of her liminal citizens. Ghosts from the Realms would be welcome to live in Amity Park as long as they followed the rules.

The coliseum (#14) is the best enrichment for her citizens. They truly love being able to let loose and fight each other. The ghosts from the Realms also love being able to fight. Several ghosts would jump at the chance to teach others how to fight, shoot, and defend themselves. Pandora would teach a class once in a while.

Animal races would also occur in the Coliseum. Otherworld animals that are the earth's equivalent of horses.

All the schools in Amity would have way more classes thanks to the Ghosts. There would definitely be thousands of teachers in the Realms and giving them the option to teach again to those who would actually like to learn, would be so exciting. Different cultures, races, species, languages and they wouldn't all be even from Earth. (#18) The Infinity Realms are infinite after all. People of Amity would have such a diverse amount of knowledge.

The skateparks would include low-gravity sections to better help people practice new tricks without worry.

The library would be overhauled thanks to Ghost Writer. There would also be added events and programs curated by ghosts. Little old ladies from all walks of life living or not creating knitting groups or otherworld equivalents.

The hospital is taken over by Frostbite and those from the Far Frozen. Only the best practices and medical procedures occur. Getting hurt is harder for liminals but the coliseum gives them the most patients. Veterinarian clients are also overhauled by ghosts.

Lady Amy would create huge treehouses spanning several trees. Making its own little city in the trees. Undergrowth when he took over for a bit had the unintentional side effect of having several citizens connect to the green. And being liminal they would connect really well with the green. They would love the treehouse-style living.

Different sections of the city are dedicated to other styles of living. Like the treehouse area, there are Kryptonian-style buildings, Martian-like areas, a huge lake, and many others. The lake houses many aquatic living and non-living species that would have their own underwater village. The schools would host field trips to each area to show in person the different types of architecture and cultures.

The cuisine available would triple. Lady Amy would do her best to grow all the needed fruits and vegetables for the otherworld cuisine. If she is unable to acquire the seeds herself she would ask Danny. Danny would travel to the other planets (yay space travel) or time travel to obtain it. Animals would also be obtained and looked after by the correct ghosts corresponding to that species of animal. Living people would be taught to care for the otherworld animals too. Lunchlady would be so excited to learn about other healthy foods.

The local channels would host a variety of shows. Ghosts reenact their lives, plays from other worlds, and songs from around the universe. Documentaries on anything and everything. True crime shows that even reveal who the killer is because the victim told them. A talk show that always has a new ghost guest. Skulker would have his own hunting show. Ember hosts MTV-style shows. Youngblood has a dedicated kids' show. A talk show dedicated to past heroes.

The radio would be filled with other world music. Jamming out to a song in an alien language while driving to work. (Find a job out of Amity Park, listening to alien music, coworkers what language is that? Martian.)(Mambo Number 5 in an alien language)

The technology would be literally out of this world. Technus would be in his own personal heaven. (Visiting another city - Holding the latest phone from Wayne Tech, this is ancient) Tucker and Techus would create a dedicated Amity Park internet. Podcasts, videos, and video games made by ghosts. Zone (Twitter) where people share whatever.

While the city is supposed to be XXXX big according to surveys it is of course way bigger when you are in the city limits. The city while not meaning to is slightly disconnected from the rest of the world. They are self-sustaining thanks to the hard work of Lady Amy.

To people of a certain level of Ecto-contamination or Ecto-touched, they feel a pull to somewhere. It's subconscious to them but the pull feels like home, a warm hug, a mug of hot cocoa, unconditional love. The ones who go to explore the pull would be flabbergasted at this city, they've never heard of, but it is the home to seemingly everyone and everything. Superman and Martian Manhunter would lose their minds at all the ghosts of Kryptonians and Martians just chilling.

When the citizens travel, outsiders' perspectives of them would be insane. Amity Parkers would be branded as cryptids.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #Amity Park #I have a lot of thoughts to how this city could be like #I'll probably come back to this #Amity Park the safe haven for all #give this city the ability to grow and change #worldbuilding #my writing

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thewinter-eden · 4 months ago

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Blood Sugar Virus (1)

CHAPTER ONE

Genre: Horror, zombies, strangers to lovers, angst, suspense Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female!reader Warnings: based on the Wanteez Zombie episode, OT8 friendship dynamics Author's Note: Those of you who already know me already know - my side characters/extras are played by BTS/BlackPink. It's just for name recognition so we don't have to go into introductions for everybody. It's insignificant to the narrative, they're just names and personalities. I wouldn't consider this a BTS/BP fic but they're all in there :P

Summary: You (stage name Sugar) are the co-captain of a horror acting group. You and your guys are the ones the companies hire when they want to stage a zombie, ghost, or any vaguely horrific and dystopian episode. So when you get hired by Ateez to develop a zombie program, it's just another routine that you've done a million times. Everything's going exactly according to script--until suddenly it isn't, and it starts getting a little too real.

next chapter >

“Mornin’ guys.” You sweep into the styling room laden with coffees. A chorus of greetings echoes back at you, and you find two of your colleagues immediately at your side to relieve you of the two handled coffee carriers on each arm and the flat carrier in each hand.

“Morning Sugar.” The guy closest to you, Taehyung, beams a boxy smile moves off with half of your caffeine supply while the other, your especially dramatic basket case Jin, moseys off with the other half.

You snag two coffees from Taehyung’s trays and cross to the farthest end of the room, exchanging smiles and greetings with the rest of the actors you pass until you get to your co-captain in the last chair.

He’s leaning back, eyes closed while the makeup artists slather him in frightfully realistic zombie makeup.

“Namjoon.” You greet. “Stimulants.”

He immediately holds out his hand to blindly accept his coffee. “Thanks, Sugar.”

Sugar has been your nickname for longer than you’ve been a horror actor. As soon as you got this job and got to know your eleven colleagues and your stylists, it caught on with them too and never went away.

“I assume we’ve all studied up on our program for today?” You guess, smiling at Jisoo who’s in the chair next to yours.

She has a downright disgusting looking open wound coming to life on her face, preparing her for the role of Brutally Turned Zombie. She just grins back at you and sips at her coffee. “I’ve memorized mine word for word, boss.”

“We should be good to go.” Namjoon confirms. “I’m not worried about anybody except maybe Hobie. He’s got it down pat now but there’s always a surprise.”

Hoseok (J-Hope, colloquially known) is a fantastic horror actor, his skills in excess drama rivaling those of Jin’s on any good day. He is also, however, known to get a bit caught up in the role of the dynamic set and scare himself—which always leads to interesting improv.

“He’s half the reason we’re the number one group.” You respond comfortably. “Everyone likes to see him psych himself out.” Glancing over at Hoseok, you find him already made-up and costumed, taking garish selfies to show off the gory bloody mouth and teeth he’d been given.

“I’m not that worried.” Namjoon said. “But I am a little concerned about how he’ll react to the clients’ energy themselves. Some of them are renowned for Hobie-like antics.”

You pop an eyebrow. “You did warn him who we have today right?”

Namjoon heaves a sigh directly into his coffee cup and nods. “Ateez. God help us all.”

One Week Ago

“Good morning!” You slide into the private booth at your favorite coffee shop and smile brightly at the two men across from you. “My co-Captain is on his way. He’ll be here soon. And I think we were meeting with three of you?”

Across the table, Hongjoong smiles at you and extends his hand to shake yours. “Yes, Wooyoung is here. He’s outside on the phone but he’ll be back as soon as he’s done. This is Seonghwa.”

You turn your beaming grin on the taller, darker haired of the two, and shake his hand as well. “Seonghwa. Pleasure to meet you. I’ll go ahead and order us some drinks. Do you know what you want?”

Hongjoong starts to get up, protesting politely that he’s happy to purchase coffees for the table but you raise a hand to stop him. “You’re our clients, Hongjoong-ssi. I’ll just bill your company.” At your teasing wink, Hongjoong sits back down and laughs lightly.

“Yes, good plan.” He and Seonghwa give you their orders, and tell you what Wooyoung is going to want, and you exit the private room to place the order.

By the time you get back, both Namjoon and Wooyoung have arrived.

All four men thank you for the drinks as you sit down.

“Once again, my name is Kim Namjoon, and this is Sugar. It is an incredible pleasure to meet you and we look forward to having some fun together.” Your co-captain is saying politely. “What we’re doing today is a quick run-down of what to expect from the game, plus some prep work.”

You slide in next to him and sip your drink. “Namjoon and I are co-captains of our acting group, we’ll be your point men for any questions or specific requests or notes. You should have both of our email addresses and phone numbers. As listed in your documents there, there are twelve of us. Our photos are here: Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, Jennie, Rosé, Jisoo, Lisa, and myself.”

“Your name is Sugar?” Wooyoung looks up from the documents to grin at you questioningly.

You smile back, used to the question. “It’s a nickname, going back to the wee days of my youth. At this point though it’s pretty much my professional stage name.”

“Your real name isn’t listed here?” Hongjoong wonders, scanning the document.

“It’s here.” You point to where your name is printed neatly next to your contact information. “This is me. So here’s the deal: everyone in our group will be playing zombies for your Teez High School zombie episode. There are two exceptions: myself and Rosé.”

Namjoon picks up your train of thought. “Rosé will be the game’s objective. She’s trapped upstairs, you have to rescue her and get out of the building before 12am without getting bitten by zombies.”

“What happens at 12am?” Seonghwa wonders.

“The automated locking system bolts all of the doors and the school becomes a veritable lockbox.” Namjoon supplies.

“What is your role?” Wooyoung asks you.

“I’m a survivor. When you arrive at the school, I’ll be the person you find who tells you what happened and how to survive the zombies. I’ll also at that point tell you that Rosé is somewhere in the building. Your second objective is to keep me alive for the duration of the game.”

Your clients looked pleasantly intrigued by the program you’ve set up for them, so you carry on cheerfully. “Rosé and I will both meet up with groups of you in the days leading up to the episode, so that you can build a relationship of familiarity and trust with us. It will make filming and reacting more natural if it’s not the first time you’ve seen us. Your roles in the episodes are transfer students, so you would have met us in classes and we’re just trying to manufacture that kind of dynamic. So today it’s us, tomorrow it’s Rosé with San and Yunho and Mingi, tomorrow afternoon it’s me with Yeosang and Jongho, and we’ll rotate groups until the big day. Any questions?”

Wooyoung perks up. “Is it gonna be scary?”

Namjoon chuckles softly. “We hope so. We are a high ranking group because of our ability to manufacture intense programs, so most of you should be able to find yourselves caught in the thrill of it.”

“We have no doubt of that,” Hongjoong says, chuckling softly. “Not many of us are exceptionally brave.”

“Yunho will be brave.” Wooyoung states confidently. “And Yeosang.”

“And you, too.” Seonghwa agrees, nudging Wooyoung arm.

The younger boy shakes his head and laughs, meeting your eyes for only a second. “No, I’m nervous,” he says. “A zombie apocalypse and we have to keep ourselves and two girls alive? That’s too much pressure.”

“You’ll have fun.” You say with a smile. “It’s a rush once you’re in the middle of it. And it’s completely safe, so don’t even let yourself feel any pressure.”

You spend the week getting to know the guys.

It takes days of carefully crafting the character that you’ll play for their episode, establishing a relationship that they don’t have to think about when the time comes. You do different things with them, sometimes meeting at a coffeeshop and playing questionnaire games to keep the laughter flowing and the conversation easy.

Other times you have them meet you at a pizza parlor and you play hypothetical games - “who would be the last to survive on a deserted island”, “who is most likely to take over the world during an alien invasion” type questions - which resulted in nearly three hours of good-natured insults and vivid imaginations that had you genuinely entertained the entire time.

You took them to a trampoline park and had them compete against each other to see who could jump the highest, who could do the most front flips, who could do the most backflips.

On the last night, you and Rose took them out for dinner and drinks and just let the conversation go and allowed everyone to get comfortably drunk, until you were singing discordant karaoke with San and exchanging bad jokes with Seonghwa.

By day three, you were in.

Wooyoung and Jongho adamantly called you Noona, while the others affectionately latched on to your unusual stage name/nickname. By the third day, they were all fairly relaxed and comfortable and looped you into their playful teasing and ribbing of each other, a dynamic you eagerly encouraged as it would play into your ease of acting in the future.

And by the time the week was over, you and Rosé were firmly entrenched in their comfort zones. San gripped your hand at dinner as you both sang obnoxiously into a muted microphone, Jongho merely played along and pouted as you did everything you could to keep him from downing a fourth bottle of soju, Hongjoong and Yeosang dutifully rescued you from the hyper drunken energy of Wooyoung and Mingi, all while Seonghwa did his darndest to convince you that what you were eating was chicken (it wasn’t).

You’ve developed a good grasp of personalities by the time the week is done, and you’ve become pleasantly fond of the mini friendships you’ve cultivated with them. They’re all so kind and sweet and naturally funny, naturally entertaining.

Seonghwa seems to have taken both you and Rosé in already, scooping you right into his little family and looking after you just as much as he does with the guys, plus a few extra protective measures. He even does that thing where he guides you to the inside of the sidewalk so he can be between you and the street.

Hongjoong completely understands that the two of you are actors and that the goal of these social exercises is to create a compelling story when the time comes to roll the cameras, but his leader instincts have also completely taken over and he’s put himself in charge of making sure you’re looked after and comfortable. He instructs Mingi to guard your drinks with his life while you and Rosé excuse yourselves to visit the ladies room when you all have a casual hang out at a bar.

He goes so far as to advocate for you when you have to argue with the trampoline park employees about your private reservation, politely but firmly backing the guy off when he subtly tries to run over you.

Yunho proved himself a massive (and massively tall) sweetheart at one of your coffee shop hangouts, helping you carry drinks and dutifully scolding Jongho when he accidentally talks over you (he hadn’t heard you when you started speaking) and Wooyoung when he laughed directly into your ear so loudly that you had to stop and wait for the ringing to stop (Wooyoung apologized, he hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to you whilst ducking away from Seonghwa’s reaching to smack him for an inappropriate joke).

Yeosang really took you by surprise this week. He first struck you as the quietest, the most reserved, and the least obnoxious of the group—and he is, but he’s also one of the most assertive in his own way. You got your first hint when he noticed Wooyoung and San overwhelming you with questions about your “zombie career” during your second meeting with them, and he booted Wooyoung right out of his seat to put himself next to you instead as a physical barrier.

You watched him jump up to offer Rosé his seat when the company bus had neglected to open enough seats for everybody on the way to the trampoline park. You watched him shrug off his jacket and offer it to her when she found herself woefully unprepared for brisk February weather, and dramatically avert his eyes when the wind picked up and flipped the hem of her shirt up slightly.

San and Mingi became your instant buddies/bodyguards, refusing to let you step outside the bar by yourself to take a phone call from Namjoon, standing out on the sidewalk in the cold with you while you discussed another client requesting a change of schedule. They also took up your entire side of the booth at the pizza place to engage you in a very detailed discussion about your dystopian acting experience and trying to come up with new storylines for you and your group to offer (Hongjoong and Seonghwa had attempted to rescue you from the intense nerdlings, but you were comfortably in your element and waved them off).

Wooyoung is Wooyoung. He spent the entire week questioning both you and Rosé about your favorite dramas and movies, demanding to know whether or not you’d listened to Ateez‘s entire discography, and teasing you both constantly as though your hangouts were just giant dates with all of Ateez. On the other hand, he was also the first to serve you at meals, the first and most frequent to ply your bowls with sides from the table.

When Rosé informed him of your strict diets, he launched into a pouty and very flattering (and very fast-paced) monologue about how the two of you need to abandon that immediately and eat everything the guys offered you.

Jongho, the stoic and quiet Jongho, didn’t surprise you all that much. He remained the perfect gentleman, keeping a respectable distance, and didn’t speak much unless spoken to. It wasn’t until the last few meetings that he started to let loose and began to play and tease with the rest of them, finally looping you in on some of the jokes.

You’re well aware of fan service. You’re completely aware of their public personas and the fact that you and Rosé are being treated like well known personalities, both being given a healthy dose of their embellished idol images.

That doesn’t stop you from being drawn in. You can’t help it. They’re magnetic. And, after very possibly the most fun week of your life, you’re ready for the zombie apocalypse.

The stage is set.

It’s time to film the episode.

And you’re thrilled, because you’ve never in your life had such a good time creating a repertoire with your clients before.

next chapter >

tag list : @mysterysold @threevracha @igotajuicyass @velvetmoonlght @ramadiiiisme @mrsminseochoi

#ateez #kang yeosang #yeosang #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang x reader

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devilry-revelry · 11 days ago

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Rest Male Orc x Female Human

Nothing but fluff.

“Ah. You’re… Thor?”

The sage-green skin at his cheeks darkened. “Thorg’izog.”

The orc standing at her door was, in a word, massive. Gargantuan in another. When Kayla had first opened the door to greet her guest she was looking right into the orc’s big chest, and then she looked up, up, up into his brown, downcast eyes. If he didn’t look so nervous, with his slumped posture and his shoulders tucked inward, he would be a formidable creature with harsh tusks, and stern brows. Though she was completely taken aback by the orc’s presence, Kayla put on her friendliest smile and greeted him.

“Hi, can I help you?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His big hands clenched into fists at his sides in a rhythmic pulse. There was a blatant reluctance to meet her gaze, but he replied.

“I, uh…” his voice was hoarse, low and quiet. Gentle. He was nearly whispering, as if he was afraid his voice would carry too far down the hallway of the complex. It somehow made him seem small. Smaller than his hunched stance tried to make him. “I have a 3PM appointment?”

Kayla blinked her surprise, peering up at him with barely hidden scrutiny. It wasn’t so much that she had any aversion to working with a magick client, but she didn’t recall the incoming appointment paperwork specifying that her client was anything other than human. And those disclosure forms were important. Depending on the type, there were certain safety precautions, more documents to protect the worker. A regular ol’ human didn’t have to worry about accidentally turning someone into stone, or accidentally setting the drapes on fire with a sneeze.

“Ah. You’re… Thor?”

The sage-green skin at his cheeks darkened. “Thorg’izog.”

Kayla laughed good naturedly as she said, “Well, that explains it! Come on in.” An orc wouldn’t present any real trouble. The only trouble it would cause was shifting the sleeping pallet around, because she had most definitely prepared for a human. She opened the door wide, and stepped aside. Thor ducked his head down even further, and stepped past the threshold. He was rather quiet on his feet, despite his massive size and burly footwear. “You’ll have to forgive me for just a moment. I thought I was prepared, but…”

She trailed off as she guided him to the main room.

The primary living space in the small studio apartment appeared to be prepared for some sort of sleep over. The velvet couch and quaint coffee table had been wedged against the walls, and the entirety of the floor was smothered with pillows and blankets. Kayla had thought the set up would be more than sufficient, but now knowing how big “Thor” was, she realized that she would have to maybe move her coffee table and couch to comfortably accommodate his bulk.

“Oh,” he said, quiet and guilty when he caught on to her predicament. “I’m sorry. Here, just tell me where to move it.” And he did. Before Kayla could even contemplate how big of a pain it was going to be to move the couch, Thor heaved the thing up from the ground.

Kayla knew that orcs were strong. There were plenty of tv programs featuring their displays of strength and ferocity. Seeing it on television was one thing, seeing it in person was another matter entirely. And while it wasn’t like moving some furniture was some great feat of strength, it was the control that she found most astonishing. The way he lifted the couch and then carefully relocated it with barely a sound. Kayla couldn’t help but study his form right until he turned back towards her.

“Look at you. You didn’t even break a sweat!” She said, already pulling some spare pillows and blankets out of the coat closet near the front door. As she made adjustments to their pallet, Kayla did a quick review of what she had read from his client form.

“You’re here… for a nap, right?”

As far as hustles went, being a professional cuddler was a breeze. The company she worked with provided a space to work out of, and they footed the bill for the daily laundry to keep bedding fresh. Once the customer was vetted and got approval, they were free to pick who they wanted to book an appointment with – or the website would assign a client to someone at random if there wasn’t a selected preference. Sessions were very strictly G-rated, and could range between a meal and some conversation, an actual cuddle session, or naps.

“Yeah. If that’s alright. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Kayla’s smile softened. Poor guy. She went about drawing the black-out curtains so they weren’t drowning in mid-day sun. As the room darkened, a couple of dark-activated lights flicked on - wavering in the mimicry of candle light.

“Do you want it to be quiet, or is there any music or white noise you’d prefer?.”

Thor unzipped the sweatshirt he wore, slowly peeling it off. He was clad in a simple t-shirt, showing off tattooed black sleeves on both arms that grew lighter as it neared his wrists. In that moment, the tattoos seemed out of place when compared to his quietly nervous disposition.

“Rain. Thunder…”

“My favorite,” Kayla replied honestly. A couple moments on her phone, and the sound of rain and growling thunder was rolling through the room, playing on a couple of small bluetooth speakers that were hidden among a couple of potted plants hanging from the ceiling. She set a timer while she was at it. She set the alarm to sound 10 minutes before their session was done, so Thor could wake up with a little less haste. “Well, if you’d like to get comfortable?”

“Right,” he rasped. His big boots were kicked off next, and then he dropped to his knees and crawled into the palette of plush pillows and blankets. He gathered a couple of pillows and pushed them under his head so he could rest on his side. How did someone his size seem so vulnerable?

“Where would you like me? Unless you want me to just be around?”

Thorg'izog lifted his arm, inviting Kayla into the curve of his body. She crawled in next to him, allowing Thor to gently guide her head to his bicep. The other arm coiled around her waist. His bulk spooned up against her smaller figure and Kayla was surprised with how utterly at ease she felt. She anticipated a couple dregs of anxiety, but there were none to be found.

“Is this okay?” he asked. The whole of him seemed to vibrate when he spoke, even when he was speaking so softly.

“Mmhmm,” Kayla hummed, just as softly. “How about you? Comfortable?”

He hummed quietly in turn, the sound of rain and thunder filling the room.

“Perfect.”

Thorg'izog drifted off quickly, his breaths coming in steady puffs against the crown of her head. Typically during this sort of downtime, Kayla would treat herself with reading a book on her phone, or reviewing the mass of to-do lists she had scattered in her head, but she found herself relaxing into Thor’s hold, enjoying the way he nuzzled closer even in his sleep. Poor guy was probably a little touch-starved if he was seeking out nap time with strangers. She smoothed her palm over his arm, and closed her eyes.

Kayla woke to gentle fingers carding through the lengths of her hair. While that was typically the sort of services that Kayla would offer, there were some clients who liked the little bit of control it offered. Caring and tending to someone versus being cared for. She shifted slowly, being mindful of her limbs as she granted herself a slow stretch. She was turned towards him now. Thor was on his back, with her head resting on his shoulder. Her arm was wrapped around his torso, a leg hooked over one of his.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she sighed, willing away the gentle burning of embarrassment she felt in her cheeks. How unprofessional of her.

“Seems like we both needed a nap,” came the quiet, rumbling response. He continued to pet through her hair, occasionally scraping his nails against her scalp. It was soothing, and wonderful, and it threatened to pull her under once more.

“Did I miss the alarm?”

“No. Not yet.”

“In that case, is there anything else I can do for you?”

Thor growled gently, “I’m quite content as we are.” His hand palmed the back of her head, and then flexed. It was just enough to administer a yummy sort of tension at her roots before he relaxed.

Kayla smiled dreamily, “Well if you insist.” She scooted just a bit closer, basking in the attention like a hungry cat. “Did you get any rest?”

“I did,” he rasped. The hand abandoned her hair and smoothed over her back. “Thank you for not turning me away. Not mentioning that I’m an orc was… stupid.”

Kayla canted her head back to peer up at him. She got an eyeful of tusk and soft lips, and hard jaw line.

“I’d only decline a customer if I felt like I wasn’t safe, and I feel perfectly safe with you.” She didn't ask why; she was sure he had his reasons to lie.

He chortled, “Safe enough to fall asleep.”

“Safe enough to fall asleep,” Kayla echoed with agreement, then pushed herself upright so she could look him in the eye while speaking to him.

He cut a handsome figure when he wasn’t anxiety ridden and trying to make himself small. Stretched on the pallet of pillows and blankets, a hand tucked under his head, looking relaxed and calm and confident. It was the first time she realized how long his hair was with it sprawled along the bedding.

“I don’t suppose I can schedule another appointment?”

“Of course you—“ the alarm sounded, queuing the last few minutes of their time together. She was quick to hit snooze. “Of course you can. If you’d like to make it with me now, we can do that, or you can schedule it when you’re ready.”

#orc boyfriend #monster x human #monster boyfriend #original writing #Fluff #monster romance #The orc is touch-starved #And sleepy #and has shit confidence

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