#suspended architecture

[nightmaskart]

Day 5: Resonant

#resonant #architecture #suspended architecture #fantasy architecture

[arc-hus]

Japanese Restaurant, St John's Wood, London - Child Studio

#Child Studio #architecture #design #building #modern architecture #interiors #minimal #modern #modernist #timeless #cool design #interior design #restaurant #restaurant design #japanese restaurant #suspended ceilings #lighting #wood interior #glass block #london

[lemonjuicecallsforattention]

#photography #bw photography #bw aesthetic #bw #black and white #spot color #urban landscape #cityscape #bridge #city #city aesthetic #city architecture #architecture #black and white aesthetic #sky #yellow #suspended bridge #osijek #croatia #europe #europe aesthetic #perspective #linearart #linear photography #linear #lines

[lesmachins]

Suspension House

#architecture #house #suspended #california

[notarealwelder]

Please don't tell me the next tier of software dev class is centered on interpersonals and diplomacy

#I'm not a damn CHA build #and yet i keep noticing that my reply-habits are...not remotely optimized towards convincing people #which is what matters when you are trying to e.g. GHC's clusterfuck of architecture #which is 50% caused by very reasonable local heuristics (e.g. DRY) which nonetheless tend to propagate the god object infestation #how do you even convince people to suspend DRY in favor of some nebulous principle with nonobvious value? #by shutting up and being noncontrarian and polite and _having a sensible argument_ #and polishing away rough edges that incite disagreement and understanding the other side and motivating from their value and and and.... #sigh #posts

[volixia669]

(reads crossover fic that results in me getting intrigued with a pairing) (goes to main fandom subsection on Ao3) (stops as I remember I’m only a few episodes in on this fandom)

Move over youtube video essays, I have some Stargate SG-1 to watch.

#lix rambles #stargate sg-1 #i just have to somehow keep myself from screaming that aliens didn't build the fucking pyramid #LISTEN I WAS COOL WITH THE WEIRD PORTAL THING #I CAN SUSPEND MY DISBELIEF THERE #I DRAW THE LINE AT RACIST THEORIES THAT ACT LIKE THE EGYPTIONS WEREN'T CAPABLE OF INCREDIBLE ARCHITECTURE #THEY FUCKING WERE CAPABLE OF MAKING THE PYRAMIDS #... #see this is why i'm behind on sg-1 #i just have to snark at it #and relatives think i'm insulting it #which i kinda am #but also cheesy scifi #also i think they eventually get a couple farscape actors? #or was that bsg... #i can never remember #anyways enough rambling in the tags

[videodromess]

Poolhouse Phoenix Pool house - huge cottage backyard brick and rectangular lap pool house idea

#arched front door #lighting fixture #suspended light fixtrure #architectural details #arch doorway #fratantoni interior design

[realitybitescupcakes]

Modern Bathroom Large minimalist beige tile marble floor and beige floor bathroom photo with flat-panel cabinets, light wood cabinets, beige walls and an integrated sink

#stone tiles #tilt turn windows #log columns #farmer stone #slate #mountain architecture #suspended cabinets

[strawctureeco]

Going Green: How Much Does it Cost?

Every time one ignores to act in favour of the environment, we move further away from achieving our collective goal of sustainability. With the ever-increasing Global warming and its irreversible impacts, adopting a Green lifestyle is no more a choice. The Globe is getting hotter, and the impact of Climate change is daunting. Humans are morally obligated to protect the ecosystem more than any other species. Particularly, anthropogenic environmental degradation has been detrimental in all aspects. Envisioning a greener, cleaner reality to lessen the impact of Climate Change is a pressing need of the hour. Being aware and mindful of all our actions every step of the way is the key idea behind going green.

Making the right choices

Think of your day the moment you wake up. Every activity presents options for us to pick from. Going green is a chosen way of life made possible with an array of environmentally conscious decisions. Switching to a more sustainable regime starts with a positive shift in attitude for a sustainable tomorrow. It begins with changing the fundamentally wrong practices that harm the ecology.

Let us look at some of the everyday choices we make. Not carrying a bag when buying vegetables, or bottled water, using single-use plastic like cling films or cellophane, leaving the water running, etc.

Anything is truly sustainable if its entire life cycle stays true to it. Yes, at certain times, Eco-friendly decisions come with high up-front costs, but these always pay off in the long run. A sustainable economy is built through collective initiatives and collaborations aimed at Green living. Small steps add up to deliver large-scale impact. Consciously working in the right direction with a long-term vision turns small steps into big impacts.

Green Businesses winning markets.

Today is the world of innovations, start-ups, and enterprises. Businesses around the globe are monitoring their methodologies to be eco-efficient. Companies are consciously making alterations in their operations that significantly reduce their carbon footprint.

Going green is a great way to save money and reduce environmental impact. But how much will it cost? Click Here to discover the answer with our blog!

#green building #green architecture #going green #solid core doors #false ceiling #drywall #suspended ceiling #recycling #sustainability #climatechange #gogreen

[sheltiechicago]

Suspended Habitable Bridges.

Xinru Yang, Jiang An, Ning Sun, Yunwei Pan, Lifa Lin

The 2021-2022 EVolo Magazine Skyscraper Competition

#xinru yang #jiang an #ning sun #yunwei pan #lifa lin #architects #architecture #building #future architecture #suspended habitable bridges #evolo magazine skyscraper competition

[bixels]

Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).

I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.

Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.

Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.

So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.

Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.

Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.

I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)

Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.

That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.

#ramblings #long post #not art #personal #also i know “did glados actually delete caroline” is debated cuz the credits song disputes this #but i like to think she did #it's not sad. caroline died a long time ago #it's a goodbye

[probablyasocialecologist]

Consider this my attempt to say to the field of architecture in a way that matters: Do not participate in this. Do not build shiny skyscrapers on the graves of entire lineages wiped out in a single blast, or luxury condos on the barren land where, before the bombs fell, Palestinian families were forcibly removed from their homes. Do not wag your finger and say “It’s complicated” when the world has seen the footage of people searching for their loved ones among a sea of white body bags, and of journalists weeping on television after hearing of the killing of their wives and children. Do not contribute to this violence, and do not give it an architectural form. Do not contribute to the legacy of architects who profited from the devastation of thousands of innocent human lives. Do not do it. It is my hope that many architects and firms will refuse work in an ethnically cleansed Palestine, just as they had the moral clarity to suspend their projects in Russia after Putin’s invasion of Ukraine. But to those who will answer disaster capitalism’s call: When the buildings are completed and the world looks back on this moment with great shame, you will be implicated, and those who chose not to be complicit will not forgive you.

#palestine #israel #gaza #architecture #mcmansionhell

[evan-collins90]

Lloyd Center Cinemas - Portland, OR (1986)

"Tom Moyer knows the figures all too well: By the end of 1986 more than one out of every three households in the United States was equipped with at least one VCR. But the Portland, Oregon, businessman who owns the Pacific Northwest's largest theater chain, Tom Moyer's Luxury Theatres, thinks he has come up with a key to "getting the moviegoer out of the house and into the theater." He commissioned the local architectural firm Broome, Oringdulph, O'Toole, Rudolf, Boles & Associates (BOOR/A) to design not one but two multi-screen cinema complexes that would turn any couch potato into a live wire.

The Lloyd Center Cinemas was designed with the intent to rekindle the spirit and excitement of the '20s and '30s when a night out at the movies was a special occasion.

Neon signs within the glass and red steel galleria are visible from major arterials that access the shopping center. Ticket booths and queuing areas are located to assure an unobstructed view into the neon-faced lobby. Once patrons are drawn to the building's activity, they find themselves, indeed, becoming part of an event. More than 3,000 square feet of specially colored and textured exterior concrete block and tile arcades protect patrons from weather as they line up at the four-station ticket booth. Next, they proceed into the brightly lit glass galleria and the rotunda which acts as a waiting room and point from which to view the rest of the building. These areas are lit with suspended concentric rings that contain spotlights, providing uplight to the structural frame. The underside of the rings contains circles of neon, backed with a mirrored surface."

Designed by BOOR/A Architects (now BORA Architects)

Scanned from a 1987/1988 issue of Designer's West Magazine

[m-1-nty]

Locked up by lies: A story of unfair jams

Pairing: Wriothesley x Reader

Cw: shameless smut, reader has female anatomy, spanking, handcuffs, fingering, oral sex, penis in vagina, wrio is in his 40s so slight age gap, but you will have to squint to notice it, desk sex, office sex, I'm bad at writing smut,,

A/N: i need him carnally

~

~

Fontaine is a land known widely for its breathtaking waterways, lush greenery, amazing architectural designs, and peculiar laws - a well-known facet among its citizens. If you have ever occupied the coveted front rows at the Opera Epiclese, where a fellow citizen received a jail sentence merely for indulging in a slice of cake favored by the Archon, you, too, possess a thorough understanding of these peculiar laws.

So what is the reason for the current events? Being unceremoniously hauled from the comfort of your house wasn't part of your envisioned evening routine. Two imposing guards, one to your left and the other to your right, effortlessly suspend you in the air as you thrash and scream. The guards' eardrums likely resonate with the pleas for respite as much as your own desperate cries. The imposing entrance to the Fortress of Meropide looms ahead as your screams for help intensify.

 “STOP THIS, PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW. I DEMAND A HEARING!”

Ah yes, a hearing. A trial.

Something every non-law-abiding citizen has to go through.

Except you. Which is unfair, to say the least.

As you reach the end of the stairs, your eyes feast upon tons of metal that your friend, Charlotte would kill to see. Mental notes are made to vividly recount the interior to her once this ordeal is over – assuming there’s an end in sight.

Wishful thinking.

You contemplate the duration of your sentence for a crime you deny committing. Your body, fatigued from the futile struggles, slumps wearily as it follows the guards. The chain snug around your neck serves as a cruel reminder that fleeting to the surface is not an option. They stop at what you would think is a receptionist's desk, handing off documents with your crime most likely written on them in exchange for a key for your room number.

My bad.

Your cell number. 9278.

It seems the crime you don’t seem to remember was so atrocious that they had to throw you in a smelly, damp cell – residing in the company of the nation’s most notorious criminals. One of the guards unlocks the gate of your cell as the other forcefully throws you in, making you land with an “oof” as you hit the unforgiving ground. They lock the gate and start leaving. Getting up from your spot on the cold stones, you grip the bars of the tiny window and start yelling after the men.

“HEY MAN! NOT COOL. CALL MY DAD IMMEDIATELY. I KNOW YOU KNOW WHO I AM! WHEN HE FINDS OUT YOU WILL TAKE MY PLACE IN THIS CELL, YOU HEAR ME!”

The guards exchange words just out of your reach, erupting into sudden laughter that echoes through the corridor. Their laughs then slowly die out as they walk further away from your cell leaving you shivering in the dark. The sounds of water droplets somewhere in the near distance.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness they pick up a small mattress on the floor. Without hesitation, you crawl toward it, disregarding any hint of mold and dampness. You lie down, curling up in an attempt to stop your shivering body. As you lay in the personal solitary confinement cell of your dreams, a deep feeling of loneliness kicks in as tears start to dampen the already wet mattress.

In this desolate realm, time adopts a different pace. Each passing moment is an eternity, an unyielding testament to the betrayal of truth and the erosion of hope. The confines of your cell are suffocating, a shroud of darkness enveloping every corner. The absence of natural light at the bottom of the sea mocks the innocence you cling to, casting fear into the depths of your soul.

Days, or even maybe weeks have passed since you started inhabiting your confining abode. Not a single person has passed to give out food and water, nor do you hear someone in the cells around you. The silence, punctuated only by the distant echoes of machinery, amplifies the fear growing in your stomach. The meager rations dispensed by a small, mechanized contraption outside your cell door are your only touch with the world so far.

The haunting thought lingers: what if abandonment is your fate, just like the prisoners around you, whom you haven’t heard a sound from since you came?

After what seemed like an eternity, faint footsteps approached. Still groggy from your afternoon nap, or was it already night, you could hardly tell, you assumed it was your brain playing tricks on you. Yet, the unmistakable jingle of keys heralds a glimmer of hope right outside your door. You jolted awake as the first light in what must be weeks lit up the small cell. A guard was standing tall and brooding on your doorstep.

“Get up, inmate. His Grace wants to see you.”

You’ve heard stories of the infamous Duke overseeing the Fortress. If the rumors held any truth, keeping ‘his grace’ waiting was not a gamble you dared to take. Quickly, summoning all that’s left in you, you got up on your feet and started following the guard.

As you made your way to the main office, the surroundings revealed a stark contrast. The bustling scene around you depicted people, no, other prisoners, dressed in ordinary attire, engaged in casual conversations, wiping sweat from their foreheads after a day’s labor, or savoring their meals. Their seemingly mundane lives sharply juxtaposed your cruel fate.

When the impeding, tall doors of the office stood in front of you, a bead of cold sweat started trickling down your forehead. The fear evident in you went unnoticed until you took your first steps into the room. The guard continued to walk up the stairs, with you shortly behind him.

“I’ve got the girl, sir. Inmate 9278.” – the guard reported, positioning himself behind you.

The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide stood before you. If there were answers to be found for your wrongful arrest, they were to come from him.

“Ah, thank you. You can leave us alone now.” – the duke dismissed the guard as he got up from the chair he was previously sitting in. Walking around his desk, he leaned on it as his cold gaze shot straight to you. “Hello there, Y/N L/N. Daughter of the famous F/N L/N. You probably are so confused now, would you like some tea to calm your nerves? Sigewinne can whip you some in no time.”

What?

His stance exudes an undeniable air of authority, his presence felt hard in this room. The duke's towering stature, both physically and metaphorically, demands attention and respect. And boy does he have yours. Yet, underneath his cold gaze and aura, he is a genuinely caring person. You’ve heard of the duke's likeness of tea. Amid the demanding responsibilities of his role, the duke finds solace in a simple yet cherished ritual – enjoying a cup of tea. So, you take up his offer for tea. He smiles a little as he presses a button on a microphone.

“Sigewinne, be a dear and bring me two cups of tea.”

Even after witnessing his softer side if you can describe it as that, you don’t dare to move from the place you took when you first came in. The chair near you attracted you as if one of you was south and the other a north pole. You silently pray the duke is kind enough to offer it to you.

“My apologies, miss L/N, for making you wait a few days before calling you here. Had some urgent business outside the fortress. But as soon as I caught wind of your case I hurried back. So tell me, do you know why you are here? Or are you just dying to find out?”

His voice had a hint of amusement to it, suggesting he had relished the anticipation.

“Please, dear Duke, enlighten me as to what terrible crime, I, a daughter of the royal house of L/N, could commit?”

Who knows where that confidence came from, but you were sick of plain bread and sleeping on a damp mattress. You missed your lavish lifestyle, watching trials at the opera, eating the best cakes, wearing fancy clothes that don’t smell like rat piss.

Now he looked even more excited, his grin widening. Given his status and the current location, which is a prison, you don’t see many reasons to flash his pearly whites at you. His next response was delivered with a strange casualness as if narrating a children’s story while idly playing with his handcuffs.

“My, my, what attitude. Well, I won't keep it a secret anymore. You're innocent. It's your father that’s the problem, young missy. He was found guilty of taking part in a serial disappearance case. Children around Teyvat were kidnapped or bought and all were stationed here in Fontaine. More specifically, your house. Which makes you an accomplice, hence why you are here. I'm honestly surprised that you didn’t notice your new staff members were always different. It isn’t just you if that makes you feel better, he put them across all his properties, figured that he didn’t have to pay them, and made a ton with selling them around other rich assholes such as him.”

…

The revelation hung heavily in the air, and you reacted with disbelief.

“What are you talking about?! My father would never do that, he loves children. Someone must be framing him. Where is he now!? Meet with his lawyer and you'll see this is just a big misunderstanding.”

Sitting down on the chair, you release a breath you didn’t notice you were holding. This was all too much yet so little information. Did your father receive a trial, or was he similarly dispatched to jail, mirroring your own predicament?

“He is in a top security prison in Snezhnaya. They captured him right on the spot as he and his men were receiving a fresh batch of teens on the border. I just sad you were roped into th-“

“Why didn’t I get a trial?! I would have told you everything, the Oratrice would have labeled me innocent and I could have avoided sleeping next to rats in that shit hole!”

At this point, every piece of belief you cling to about the justice system in your homeland was starting to crumble, and the realization sets in that not only your life but also that of your entire family has been irreparably shattered, assuming they were as unaware as you were.

“Because we dealt with this case as we deal with the other serious ones. In the shadows. We skip the theatrics. Those people don’t care for you or your father, they would have yawned and laughed at your stupidity. So instead of getting heated why don’t you cal- Oh! Sigewinne, you brought our teas. Thank you, nurse. Y/N, this is Sigewinne, the head nurse here. If you get hurt or feel bad during your stay here, feel free to visit her.”

Grateful for the interruption, you’re relieved to have a reprieve from the escalating tension with the duke. His voice was growing louder, and the prospect of facing angry administrator was something you wished to avoid. I will be better to be on his nice side.

“Hello, miss Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I would love to show you around but there was an accident at the production zone so I have to quickly go back and fix up my patients. See ya!”

With Sigewinne’s departure, the only remnants are the lingering aroma of herbal tea and the weighty silence.

Deciding to prolong your stay outside the rat hole that is your cell, you ask – “So how long will I be staying here? You said you were sad I was roped into this, meaning you also think or know I'm innocent.”

“You’ve got some sharp ears, doll face. Well, I can't say for sure how long your sentence is. It all depends if you are innocent. Your case is being examined by monsieur Neuvilette as we speak, so if you are lucky I'd give you a couple of days. Why? Wanna leave? Don’t you like the fortress?” His teasing tone doesn’t escape your notice, and his eyes lock onto your as he takes a casual sip of tea.

The glint in his eyes is both playful and alluring, sending a shiver down your spine. A blush graces your cheeks, but you chalk it up as a side effect of the warm tea shared between you two.

Your stay at the office continued for an hour, sharing some information back and forth, him filling you in on the rules and regulations of the prison. Sadly, you didn’t manage to convince him to upgrade your suite to a dorm, but that won't stop you from trying next time.

As he leads you down the stairs towards the exit, you sense his lingering gaze on your back. The butterflies in your stomach return.

“You can go visit Sigewinne, she must be done with her patients by now. She will give you a fresh batch of clothes and show you to the showers. Off you go now, don’t go causing any trouble, I have eyes everywhere, sweetie.”  - he said and closed the huge doors, leaving you a flustered mess right outside them. How did he make his last statement both equally hot and creepy at the same time? You were conflicted, were you turned on or terrified?

After some time, you successfully navigated your way to the nurse’s office, using the map that Wriothesley had drawn for you. Sigewinne, while finishing her work, attentively listened as you explained the duke’s instructions. She agreed, and soon both of you were making your way towards the showers. Post-shower, you found yourself changing into a nightgown that felt oddly familiar – it was yours.

How did this get here?

“His grace wanted you to feel more comfortable staying here, so he went to your house and handpicked some clothes for you.”

The revelation made your ears burn, the thought of the duke rummaging through your personal items sending a flush of embarrassment through you.

You bid farewell to Sigewinne as the guard assigned to you took you back to your cell. This time at least he didn’t push you in. You noticed there was a little candle that lit up the room. And from that small light, you notice that your mattress has been changed to a dry, nicer one. You sighed, laying down on it, recalling all the information that was dumped on you today. As you lay on the ground, you still feel like the lowest of lows, but hey that’s what you get for having a piece of shit father.

Weeks passed, each day blending into the next, yet there was no sign of your release or any update on your case. The routine was monotonous: wake up, work, linger in the main area, and return to your cell. And repeat.

Sometimes you'd be called up for tea by the duke. In the beginning, the interactions were casual, filled with polite exchanges and friendly banter. At first, it was seemingly just insignificant moments – a shared smile, a fleeting glance every time you came across each other on accident. Each encounter sparked a subtle yet undeniable chemistry between you, leaving the air thick with unspoken words and lingering glances.

Whether it’s a chance encounter, a shared moment, or lingering glances, these moments leave you with thoughts that keep you up all night. Conversations were laced with double entendres, innuendos, and veiled expressions that left much unsaid. The frustration grew as these encounters started to interfere with your plans.

You had revenge plans to think up not stay up fantasizing about the duke!

Oftentimes, you found yourself teetering on the edge of restraint, your true desires momentarily surfacing before getting shoved and masked again.

Over the next weeks, the physical proximity and accidental touches became powerful instruments in the orchestration of your downfall. The magnetic pull you feel towards his grace is undeniable, every small encounter making you eagerly anticipate the inevitable moment when restraint gives way to desire.

All of this was getting in the way of your daily life. Every inch of your brain was captivated by him. As much as you hate to admit it you are starting to like your stay here.

You have had enough of this game of push and pull. It was time you put an end to your suffering. You were just hoping his feelings were mutual. A plan formed as you overheard inmates discussing a peculiar topic. It seemed that causing a ruckus or getting in trouble led to a direct audience with the duke himself for punishment and a lecture.

You found an odd pair, a traveler and a floating fairy person. Coincidentally, they usually took up shifts at the production zone at the same time you did, so you’ve shared a few meals and conversations with the pair. Quite enjoying their company and deciding that you trust them enough, you tell them your plan. Keeping the true intentions of your plan, you explain how things will go down. They both agree, saying – “Why not?”

So, the plan gets in motion.

Firstly, none of you will go to the production zone that day so you avoid being seen together. Then, at the right time, you will cross paths with the traveler, launching into an orchestrated attack – screaming and crying in a bid to attract attention. When you cause enough of a scene, the little fairy person you’ve found out is called Paimon, will start yelling and calling the guards, claiming you attacked them first out of nowhere.

Upon successfully being taken into custody, you’d send a discreet wink to your co-conspirators, signifying the success of the operation. It was a plan fraught with risk, but you were determined to put an end to your internal turmoil.

So, now that you have successfully gained the audience of the duke, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you might have made a grave mistake. The atmosphere in the room, unlike your first meeting, was tense and unwelcoming. It was clear from the duke’s expression and body language that he was furious, twirling his handcuffs while fixing a stern gaze upon you.

“Leave us.” – he commanded to the guards, his eyes never leaving your figure.

You’ve fucked up royally.

Panic set in as you realized the gravity of your actions. Maybe, just maybe you didn’t think this through. They did say that you will be punished by the duke and they did sound scared about the whole ordeal. The fear of dire punishments crossed your mind – being thrown to the dogs, enduring months without food or water. You just orchestrated your own demise for a crumb of attention from Wriothesley. Were the tea parties not enough for you?  

Attempting to salvage the situation, you stammered, “I apologize. I can explain-“

“On the table.” – he demanded abruptly.

“Excuse me. What?”

Confusion and fear gripped you as you reluctantly approached the desk and sat on it, only to be corrected with a cold command to face the other way. At least you are glad you won't know how he decides to kill you. But, as fast as lighting, his hand was around your neck as he slammed you against the table and his other delivered a hard spank. Ouch. You knew he could pack a punch from the stories he has told you, but damn.

“Was that stunt a pathetic little cry for attention?” he questioned, his voice cutting through the tension.

You were caught red-handed.

“Answer me, inmate.”

Fearing that he might get even angrier with you for lying, opting for the truth instead.

“Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir.” – if you weren’t embarrassed before, you sure are now. He let out a small, breathy laugh. His hand was massaging the spot where he spanked you.

“Good choice not to lie, sweets.” – he remarked, giving your ass a few light pats. With swift movements, he began raising your nightgown to examine his damage. As humiliation consumed you, he noticed your lack of panties. Then, he took his hands off of you, one hand holding his temple while the other scratched his stubble.

“You sure were hoping for this, weren’t you? Sneaky, not even wearing panties, princess.”

Your cunt was now exposed to him. He surely noticed the wet trail caused just by one spank. Turning your head slightly on the table you saw that he was looking straight at your ass. Feeling very exposed to him, (as if that wasn’t your original plan) you pushed yourself up on your hands. Very quickly he returned you to your original pose.

“I didn’t say you can move, your highness.”

That earned you a few more spanks, making your right cheek as red as your face. He leaned closer, putting his left hand on the table next to your head as he towered over you. The stubble on his face rubbed against your neck as he bit your earlobe.

“I’ll let this one slide. But cause a scene again I'll make you regret it.” – he whispered innocently in your ear but all you could focus on was his hand playing with the fat of your ass and how his hand was moving ever so slightly towards your cunt. The atmosphere grew charged with desire, and you found yourself struggling to maintain composure.

You took a sharp breath as his cold fingers got to their destination, gathering some of the slicks and moving upwards to pay attention to your clit. “What would your family think of you right now, princess? Begging for attention from the duke. All you had to do was ask.” He said the last part in a whisper and then started to leave open-mouth kisses from your jawline down your neck.

His hand was working magic on your clit, his skilled fingers drawing out moans and whines. You also noticed a hardness poking you from behind, deciding to test your luck you press your ass against him, earning a grunt of satisfaction from him. His left hand circled your waist, making you stand upwards. Squeezing you tighter to him, his right hand continued his ministrations on your clit.

His soft lips were now attacking your neck. Wriothesley probably noticed your whines quickening and getting more high-pitched so he stopped his work on you. Redirecting his hand upwards and paying some attention to your tits.

Sighing, you let your head rest against his chest, looking directly at him. He looked majestic in this moment, cheeks flushed as he worked his magic on you.

Missing the warmth of your core, he dipped his fingers back down, this time slowly gathering slick and pushing one finger in. The thickness of his one finger filling you in was so much better compared to yours, as you tried to reach your peak almost every night in the dirty cell thinking of him.

Noticing he is in safe waters he puts another finger in, making you take in a deep breath. As he moves his fingers inside you, your moans start to get louder. Worried that there might be guards posted outside his office, you try to keep it quiet.

Not liking your silence, he moves his other hand on your clit, adding more stimulation and eliciting a loud moan from you.

“Don’t keep quiet, princess. Let them hear you taking your punishment, so, well.” he urged you.

His pace increases, making your legs start to give up. Searching for something to keep yourself up, you hold on to his forearms, fingernails making crescent moons on his skin.

“It’s too much, I can't, please.” – you could feel tears forming in your eyes from all the bright stars he was making you see.

“Surely you don’t want us to stop now, do you, angel? After working so hard to get in this position. Hm?”

Never faltering, his pace is bringing you close to your finish. Your walls clamping on his fingers, and your breathing growing erratic.

Suddenly, he pulled all his hands off of you, when he noticed you were almost to your end. No longer having his arms for support you fall on your knees. You turn your head upwards towards him and send him the meanest glare you could muster up right now.

He was laughing at you as his hands were working on unclasping his handcuffs from his belt. Next, he crouches down and grabs your arms and handcuffs them behind, on your back. Standing up and turning you to face him better, you are now face to face with the tent in his pants.

He proceeds to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants as he lets them fall to the ground. After taking his underwear off too, you can't seem to stop yourself from salivating just from the sight.

“Quit staring at me sweets, you are gonna make me embarrassed.” He smiled softly at you as he started to stroke his length, bringing it closer to your mouth. Taking up the cue, you prepare yourself to take him. Tapping his tip on your mouth, you open and take his head in. Groaning and without a warning, he grabbed the top of your head, pulling you to take more of him inside your mouth.

Struggling to fit him inside, your eyes start watering. Relaxing your throat as much as you can, you start bobbing your head up and down his shaft. When you looked up at him, his head was thrown back in ecstasy which urged you to go faster.

“Oh, Archons. You are doing so well for me, sweets. Keep going.” His small praise lit your core up. Detriment to be good for him, you try again to fit more of him inside you. He was grunting more and whispering praises left and right.

When you felt his dick twitch in your mouth, you knew he was close. As you were preparing for his release, he suddenly removed your head from his dick. Grabbing you, like you weighed nothing, he placed you on the table and freed your hands from his handcuffs.

“You were amazing but I’d rather finish in you.”

Without any warning, he thrust himself in you. Looking straight into his eyes, with foreheads touching, both of you gasped for air, as if you were seeing the gates of Celestia. Firstly, he started slowly and sensually. You noticed that he was staring at your lips, so you took his face in your hands and brought it to your lips. The first kiss of the night was exceeding every fantasy of him you’ve had.

His pace then started to increase in speed, making you moan and whine in the kiss. Wrapping your legs around his waist only made him squeeze your hips even more, which will probably leave bruises as evidence of this night. Both of you were getting closer, as your moans got louder and louder. He then left your lips to go work on your nipples. He put one in his mouth, twirling his tongue around it. One of his hands made its way down to your clit, intensifying your pleasure by lots. His ministrations were too much for you, white spots already appearing in the corners of your eyes.

“I'm close, please don’t stop, sir.” He looked up at you from his place at your chest, taking a mental photo of your face right now, hoping it would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

Never faltering and never intending to stop, he continued his rough pace. He was close himself, and when your walls started clamping around his dick, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “C'mon, princess, cum around my cock, just like the slut you are. So desperate for me, she had to throw a fit.” – he said, grunting between words.

His degrading words helped you over the edge, prolonging your moan, your breathing unstable. He continued his relentless pace in you, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. At this point you were a blabbering mess, saying stuff that sounded like something between his name and nonsense, and him overstimulating you was not helping.

Nearing his release, he let his head fall in the crook of your neck, biting your neck as he came undone inside you. Heavy breathing filled the room. The smell of sex was present in his office, you sure were hoping no one would walk in.

After a few moments, he began to take out his softening length. His seed coming out along with him. Taking his fingers, he pushed it back in. All you could do was watch him from your seat on the table, your legs too weak to move. When he noticed you staring at him, he looked up and smiled at you.

“You want some tea?”

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #fontaine #genshin wriothesley #smut #wriothesley #reader insert #wrio x reader #wriothesley genshin #fanfic #fanfiction #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x you

[starcheols]

the 1 — choi seungcheol

⭑ it is said that no one ever forgets their first love, nor their first heartbreak. truer words have never been spoken as you leave the glamourous cities of europe to return to your small hometown, for the first time in seven years.

don't you think it would have been sweet, if it could have been me pairing :: smalltown!seungcheol x fashion designer!reader (gender neutral) genre :: nostalgia, gentle angst

warnings :: nothing major! just heartbreak i guess? mentions a glass of wine and a kiss. word count :: 1.4k

author's note :: i've never written a fan-fiction before so i'm marking this monumentous occasion with a slightly mediocre piece of writing that was floating around in my head for a week :)

links :: masterlist / ask to be added to the taglist!

The old bus station, with its peeling red paint and rugged masts, greeted you like an old friend as you took a step off the weathered vehicle, with its tires sagging next to the cracked curb. It seemed that autumn’s breath was whispering in the air, carrying a chill that nipped at you, prompting you to tug your cashmere coat tighter around yourself.

As you stood there, under the canopy of the station, the rhythmic plod of the primordial-era bus faded into the distance, and a familiar nostalgia settled over you like the autumn mist.

Your hometown had remained frozen in time, a canvas of memories painted against the backdrop of quaint architecture and cobblestone streets that echoed under the sharp clack of your heeled boots. 

As you rounded the corner of the bus station, the remainder of the small town, with its quaint buildings and centrepiece fountain, unfolded before you like a familiar tapestry of memories. 

And there, standing beneath the flickering street lights of the early morning, a broad-shouldered man stood with his back turned, the sun’s first tentative rays finding a home in his honey-blonde hair. And for that fleeting moment, you could have sworn you felt time suspend, the world tilting its axis beneath you, for it had been so long.

But then, reality asserted itself, like a gentle hand grounding you in the here and now. The features, upon closer inspection, were not those you had once known. The stranger's eyes, the curve of his jaw, all different from the one etched into the canvas of your memories.

You certainly could not resist the wave of relief that washed over you, and that sneaking adrenaline that had coiled within your chest slowly released its grip, leaving the heartache to dissipate along the morning dew beneath the frail sunlight.

Seven years since you had left this town, teary-eyed and clutching your suitcase, chasing dreams that led you across the world, to the capitals of Europe to pursue your degree and future. 

Milan, where you honed your craft, your fingers becoming extensions of your artistic vision. Paris, where the world of haute couture embraced you, and your name adorned the lips of those who appreciated the elegance of your designs. The bustle of fashion weeks, the allure of glamorous shows — it was a life you had dreamed of, a life you had made your own.

Yet, amidst the glittering lights of success, the echoes of that tearful departure still reverberated, often coming back to you after a stranger’s kiss or a glass of red perched on your dining table, up in the penthouses of Paris.

You remembered that fateful day, seven years ago to the date today, when the bus station had rather been a stage for a heartbreaking farewell. Seungcheol, your best friend with golden hair and big eyes that once held a world of shared secrets, stood before you.

Back then, you were just eighteen, brimming with dreams and aspirations. You had poured your heart out to Seungcheol, confessing a love that had blossomed within the cocoon of friendship. But his response, or rather the lack thereof, had cast a shadow over the farewell, dragging you over the edge to embarrassed silence and quiet tears. His eyes, ringed with long lashes that you longed to once press a soft kiss to, reflected not reciprocation, but a profound sadness and pity.

The bus had become your vessel of escape, your tears mingling with the rumble of the engine, as the vehicle pulled away from the same curb that you stepped out on today. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air — Choi Seungcheol, the person you had thought of when you tossed pennies into the fountain’s pool and the person you loved the most in the entire world, (and really, what was the world of one who had just turned eighteen?), did not share the same sentiments at all.

The bench under the gnarled oak tree offered a momentary respite, and you took a seat, your coat enveloping you like a cocoon against the autumn chill. As you waited for your parents, who had vowed to meet you for breakfast, you watched the leaves dance in the breeze, a kaleidoscope of reds and golds that mirrored the hues of memories embedded in this town.

The quiet peace of the surroundings enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the crisp air to wash over you. The distant hum of the town, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the distant echo of a church bell created a symphony that resonated with a serene melancholy. The town hadn't changed much, and neither had the comforting embrace of its quiet corners.

A voice, a familiar voice, and one that you knew only all too well, cut through the tranquil ambiance. Your eyes snapped open, and the world seemed to shift on its axis again. There, standing before you, was Seungcheol —no longer the silent boy you tearfully left behind but a man, his honey-blonde hair still curling around his ears. His gaze met yours, and the years seemed to melt away in that moment, and how you hated the leap of your heart and the shake of your hands.

And it seemed your traitorous heart, a tempest of conflicting emotions, of love and grief, ran cold and hot simultaneously. Seven years had sculpted the features of the boy who you had loved from your childhood into a refined allure, the lines of boyhood replaced by the contours of a man who had weathered time with grace.

"Hey," he greeted you, a warmth in his eyes that could have deceived you into forgetting silent tears, and his pitying gaze years ago. "I heard you were back in town. It's been forever!"

Your brightest smile, a mask that you could credit from having being forged from your years of navigating the high celebrity ends of the world, adorned your own face, as you accepted his open arms, pulling yourself into the scent of him.

The old familiarity threatened to unravel the carefully constructed walls around your heart. How was it that he seemed genuinely excited to see you, to reconnect after all these years.

Seungcheol's infectious laughter filled the air, a melody that echoed through the town square, and one that you would have spent summers listening to on repeat, your arms intertwined. "I can't believe it, you know? I always knew you had that amazing potential, but seeing your name everywhere, in magazines and tabloids, isn’t that so cool? You've made it so big!"

The genuine admiration in his eyes was both heartwarming and disconcerting, for you. You could only nod, expressing gratitude for his kind words while trying to suppress the turbulent emotions churning beneath the surface. The town's quiet corners, once a sanctuary, now felt like a stage, each word and glance an act in the intricate dance of reunion.

And you won't believe who's behind me," Seungcheol continued, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "My wife's a huge fan of your work. She practically dragged me here to meet you."

As your eyes shifted to the figure approaching behind him, your breath caught. A woman, stunning with dark red hair, walked with two small children by her side. The bitterness, like a dormant ember, flickered within you, threatening to consume the facade of happiness you had meticulously crafted.

"Hey, look who's here!" Seungcheol called out to his wife, his voice brimming with excitement.

She turned, and for a moment, your eyes locked. A fleeting connection passed between you, a recognition of shared spaces in a world divided by time and choices. Her smile was warm, genuine, and you tried to match it with your own, though it felt brittle, a fragile façade that hid the tempest within.

Seungcheol introduced you, praising your work with an enthusiasm that only friends from the past could muster. The children, curious and full of innocent wonder, regarded you with wide eyes. As the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but wonder what could have been if, in that moment seven years ago, the trajectory of your lives had diverged in a different direction.

Seungcheol had moved on, creating a family, a chosen one. The pang of longing lingered, but you swallowed it down, resisting the temptation to wonder about alternate realities.

But we were something don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool. And if my wishes came true, it would have been you.

#seventeen #scoups #choi seungcheol #caratlibrary #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #00 #00eras

[shiyorin]

What do you think it would be like if primarchs used social media?

Lion El'Jonson:

Private account, doesn't accept follower requests

Rarely posts, usually just sunset or forest photos

Uses emojis sarcastically in replies

Has 20 followers but thinks it's way too many

Fulgrim:

Aesthetic pictures pose artfully depict exotic hobbies and runway couture 

Filters all photos to perfection  

Constantly debates high art vs pop culture 

Thirst traps cause monthly massacres

"Like for a follow back 🔥" 

Perturabo:

Photos are exclusively poorly-lit fortress blueprints 

Bio is 25000 character treatise on siege tactics

Follows exactly 12 history scholars 

Hates everyone and everything on the site 

Actually ran some incisive political commentary bots before being banned

Jaghatai Khan: 

Only posts the sickest motocross and extreme sports clips

Videos have insane views but no captions 

Fans think he's a cryptid until rare livestreams 

Hijacks Fulgrim's comments to hype rad stunts

Leman Russ:

Changed his name to 'Wolf Daddy 🐺'

Shirtless hunting/drinking photos get 10K likes

Roasts everyone in comments but they love it  

Followers think he's a viking hipster meme page

Follows biker gangs, sled dog accts, scholars of old Terra 

Rogal Dorn:

Only posts are architectural blueprints and records of fortifications

Gets into epic debates about structural principles in comments  

No one knows if he actually loads new content or just archives old

Somehow gains tons of followers thirsting for DILF

Konrad Curze:

Pure darkness and screams in hazy JPEGs 

3 followers and they're all bots

Posts disturbing ‘prophecies’ and murder puzzles

Under investigation for doxxing

Sanguinius: 

Angelic selfies bring all the followers to his page    

Flowing locks and golden abs get 20K likes instantly   

Quotes poetry in every reply but no one understands 

Only follows animal shelter and children's hospital accounts

Ferrus Manus:

Only follows engineering/robotics pages

Posts heavily filtered machine shop mini-documentaries 

Photos of custom machines that make engineers weep

Comments are unintelligible techno-babble  

Somehow gains huge gym bro following thirsting for muscle

Angron:

Gets banned monthly for graphic content and abuse

Posts angry rants about society in broken caps

Got suspended after sending death threats to Guilliman

Only follower is Khârn who comments 'THIS' on everything  

Roboute Guilliman:

Shares updates on the latest Codexes 

Only follows serious history/philosophy lecture pages

Posts long analyses of governance strategies 

Constantly lectures others in comments

Has blocked half his followers for trolling

Mortarion:

Aesthetic is grimy gas mask selfies in back alleys

ONLY reposts plague doctor memes from 2003

Bio is endless copypasta about essential oils

Gains cult following of goths, metal heads and preppers

Magnus:

Endless livestreams talking about theoretical magic at 3AM with 2 viewers. 

Tries making TikToks explaining sorcery but the videos are an hour long each.

Overexplains memes and emojis in long-winded threads

Memes and facts threads blow up as the most esoteric

Horus Lupercal:

Selfies showing off abs get him 50K followers in a week

Posts stunning photos from across the Imperium with #blessed captions

Fan club is half the mankind 

DMs from people asking for selfies blow up his notifications  

Lorgar Aurelian:

Aesthetic is dark robes and candlelit monasteries

Constantly reposting zealot sermons out of context

Accidentally starts wars of faith whenever he livestreams

Got suspended for uploading hardcore Slaneeshi hymns

Still has 10 alt accounts all named Brother [REDACTED]

Vulkan:

Only follows puppy accounts and craft bloggers

Posts Happy Holiday baking tutorials and dad jokes

Likes and comments positivity on everyone's posts

Followers think he's the nicest DILF ever online

Secretly the biggest wholesome meme page

Corvus Corax:

Only darkness, shadow puppets and cryptic poems

No one knows if he's real or a myth on the deep web

Internet detectives can’t trace his true identity  

Only sends encrypted coordinates in mysterious DMs  

No one has any idea what he's trying to say  

1 follower is Alpharius who only replies 'No, I'm Alpharius'

Alpharius/Omegon:

Constantly pretending to be other online  

No one knows their true forms or agenda 

Takeovers of government sites spark conspiracies

Leaves clues implicating everyone else’s schemes

#warhammer 40k #wh40crack #primarch #lol #warhammer 40000