#Aside from transferring money | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maikaartwork · 10 months

Text

Artists, let’s talk about Instagram commission scammers

There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.

How they begin

Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.

What to look out for:

Their profiles will either be private, empty, or filled with very generic stuff, dating at most a few years back.

Their language will be very simple, rushed or downright bad. They might use weird emojis that nobody ever uses. They will probably send impatient “??” when you don’t answer immediately. They’re in a crunch - lots of people to scam, you know.

They’ll give you absolutely no guidelines. No hints on style, contents aside from (usually) the pet and often a name written on the artwork, no theme. Anything you draw will be perfect. Full artistic freedom. In reality they don’t really care for this part.

They’ll offer you a ridiculous amount of money. Usually 100 or 300 USD (EDIT: I know it might not be a lot for some work. What I mean here - way higher than your asking price, 100 and 300 are standard rates they give). They’ll often put in a phrase like “I am willing to compensate you financially” and “I want the best you can draw”, peppered with vague praise. It will most likely sound way too good to be true. That’s because it is.

Where the scam actually happens

If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible.

Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.

A few things can happen here:

They overpay you and ask for the difference to be wired back. Usually it will go to a different account and you’ll never see that money again.

They’ll overpay you “for shipping costs” and ask you to forward the difference to their shipping company. Just like before, you’ll never see that money again.

The actual owner of the account (yes, they most likely use stolen accounts to wire from) will realize there’s been something sketchy going on and request a refund via official channels. Your account will be charged with fees and/or you get in trouble for fraudulent transactions.

You will transfer the money from your PayPal credit to your bank account and they will make a shitstorm when they want their money back, making your life a living hell. They will call you a scammer, a thief, make wild claims, wearing you down and forcing you into wiring money “back” - aka to their final destination account.

Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.

You can find more info on that method HERE.

What to do when you encounter a scammer:

Ask the right questions: inquire about the style, which artwork of yours they like, as much details as you can. They won’t supply you with any good answers.

Don’t let the rush of the exchange, their praise and the promise of insanely good money to get to you. That’s how they operate, that’s how they make you lose vigilance.

Don’t engage them. As soon as you realize it might be a scam, block them. The sense of urgency they create with their rushed exchange, and pressure they put on you will sooner or later get to you and you might do something that you’ll regret later.

Never wire money to anyone. Never give out your personal data. Never provide your email, name, address or credit card info.

Don’t be deceived by receiving a payment, if you somehow agree to go along with it. Just because it’s there now doesn’t mean it can’t be withdrawn.

Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it.

Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!

Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.

#art resources #artist help #artist advice #commission advice #scammers #instagram scam #please share with your fellow artists

15K notes · View notes

long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 9 months

Text

DPXDC prompt. Exchange

Jack decided that to strengthen the bond between father and son, he and Danny should go to a hunt together. Overall, Jack was pleased with the way his boy navigated in the dark. He even helped him fend off the bandits who wanted to rob them. Well, Danny wore some strange costume in the middle of all the fun but Jack didn’t know anything about youth fashion, so he didn’t comment on it.

~~~~ "Honey, we’re home. I hope the fudge for the champions is ready. Right, Danny?" Proud father patted his son on the back. Looks like Danny finally got some muscle. "Honey, I hate to break it to you, but we can’t keep Robin." Maddie gently pulled her husband aside from the vigilante. "What? You’re not Danny?" Jack took a closer look at the boy. "I tried to tell you right away, but you turned the music up to full volume and…" Robin started making excuses. "Jack, where’s our son then?" Maddie asked anxiously. Jazz screamed from the kitchen. "It’s okay, Mom, Danny texted me that he took a taxi." Two minutes later, the Batmobile stopped near their house. A huge shadow came out of the driver’s side and right after him their boy jumped out of the car. The boy seriously looked at Batman. "I don’t have any cash with me. But I can transfer the money to your card." Batman blinked and looked at Fenton’s parents. "I believe this is yours. Can I have mine?" "Finally, we’re already late for dinner. " The boy in the colorful suit ran down the stairs.

~~~~

"Danny, my boy, I am so sorry that I mistook you for this guy. You must have been so scared of being alone in Gotham. " Jack hasn’t stopped apologizing to Danny for the last hour. "Come on, Dad, I’m not mad at you at all. That was cool." Danny smiled mischievously and whispered, like it was a secret. "In fact, Batman is a face-blind as you are. I met him in the middle of a battle, and he scolded me for going out unarmed. And he did not took the kit of batarangs back. Do you think Sam would like them?" "She’s gonna be thrilled." Jack smiled a little and wiped his tears. "Also, when we got in the car, for the first ten minutes he was clearly driving me to his lair. But I was too quiet for Robin, and that made him suspicious." Danny sighed. "I was forced to confess that he’d took the wrong teenager."

~~~~

"God, you weren’t kidnapped this time by a villain but by a civilian?" Dick couldn’t stop laughing at his little brother. "Shut up." Robin attacked him. "The man was terribly insistent."

#dpxdc prompts #dpxdc prompt #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc

2K notes · View notes

baddiewiththebook · 6 months

Text

STUFFING AND SAUCE [18+]

-> It's Thanksgiving, and the gang is all together under one roof: the Henderson house. While Mrs. Henderson and Wayne battle the turkey in the kitchen, Eddie fights his own urges with the older Henderson sibling. You're home for the holidays, and Eddie's hungry. . . but, not for turkey.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> hookup to lovers, angst, smut

-> warning - explicit content [18+]

a/n -> This is reuploaded and heavily edited from last year.

-> <-

"You keep looking in that mirror and I'll break it," Dustin warns.

Robin's hair stands on end. "You can't be serious? That bad luck is transferable, you know?"

Dustin rolls his eyes at her superstition because honestly they've all come to an agreement to help set the table for Thanksgiving dinner party that his mother has offered to host this year. And, with Eddie's lack of partaking because he's too busy blotting down his hair in the mirror, Dustin doesn't understand why Eddie's come to his house in the first place.

The older boy fidgets with the end of his shirt, and not long after Robin comes to his ear to tell him that you'll love how he looks tonight. That's right, you're coming. He's totally forgotten that Dustin's sister is in town for Thanksgiving. Eddie's hair dangles over his cheeks, so that hopefully no one sees him blush.

"When does your sister get here?" Max throws herself onto the couch next to Steve, whom scoots a seat over from her. Lately, he realizes, she's been a bit too clingy to him.

"She's late," Dustin checks the clock that hangs high above on the wall ticking the time away. "She should have been here an hour ago- Eddie!"

Eddie abandons his task once again to dash over to the front window facing the street. Frost makes the drying grass and the limp trees appear shiny like glass. Foggy car headlights grow larger as they near. Seeing your Honda pull up the short drive brings back memories from the summertime.

Last summer was a record high in heat, which left you with barely any clothes to wear that didn’t leave your skin sticky and hot. Especially when Eddie was bent over the hood of your car and knuckles deep in your engine. Greased up hands and all, he wiped the sweat from his brow to tell you that your car was fixed. When you offered him cash as payment, he declined to the manor of being friendly not as the professional Eddie Munson - mechanic. You chewed on your bottom lip while batting your lashes in his direction.

Eddie’s unsure how you can make him melt, while simply being you. But, eventually, you worked out a payment that both of you were happy with. And, you continued that payment damn near every week. In his office. In his garage. In his van. In his kitchen. In his shower. In his bed.

No space in his shop or in his apartment are left sacred to either of you. And, when the summer was done, you were off to college. No calls or texts from either of you.

“She’s here!” Max spins in the front hallway. You are her idol. She swears you are the coolest person she’s ever met (aside from El).

Dustin shoves Eddie out of the way to observe for himself that in fact his sister has come home for the holidays. Not long after, their shared mom runs out of the house with her apron around her neck like a cape in her sprint.

“Hi, baby!” Your mom peppers your face with her kisses.

You whine. “Mom!”

“Okay, okay!” She pinches your cheeks until they’re glowing, but she does let you go.

Following her is your little brother, Dustin, who grabs you around the waist and he pulls you in tight. He’s gotten much taller since the last time you’ve seen him, but that can’t be right. You’ve only been gone for a few months!

“Hi, Dusty!” You ruffle his hair.

He grins. “What did you bring me?”

“I barely have enough money for books!” You snort.

Dustin drops his grip and then he fans you away. The little sucker grumbles, and avoids helping you with your suitcase despite your mom’s request. But, Steve and Robin dogpile you with warm greetings and Steve offers to help with your bag.

“I need all the dirt on college,” Robin whispers. “Are there really stains on all the sheets?”

What she means to ask is much raunchier. But, your mother is still picking at your clothes because you haven’t ironed this shirt. She’s got this look upon her face like you’ve been away at sea for years and years, and not like you’ve spent two months away at college.

Steve lugs your suitcase inside with you in tow. The rest of your brother’s little friends have also crowded around to get a piece of you. You’re like a celebrity in your own home. Even Wayne’s got his arm around you, whom you didn’t expect to see (but, you’re not complaining - you love Wayne).

Wayne’s got himself stuck in the kitchen with your mom to help her with the turkey. You’re the top subject right now, but soon he dashes off to make sure the bird isn’t drying out in the oven. Conversation begins to swirl like normal, and you’re on the lookout for the one person you might have missed a little more than you should.

You sit on the living room couch between Nancy and Steve with Robin at your feet, and the kids are running about the home hiding a can of whipped cream from your mom and Wayne (who are the only adults capable of reprimanding them of course).

“Do you have any plans while you’re in town?” Nancy asks.

You hope she doesn’t see your neck crane over her curly head. “None, but I’m here for the weekend and Monday since I don’t have classes.”

“What’s your schedule like?”

Nancy overloads everything she can while you’re around. No offense to the other people in your friend group, but they didn’t invite intellectual conversations like you and she did. She’s got too many questions for you, while you’re overthinking that the mid-length skirt you wore is too much.

“Have either of you seen Eddie?” Wayne poses the eye opening question that has the whole gang bobbing their head back and forth like meerkats.

“I saw his van outside, right? I’ll check there,” you stand away from your spot on the sofa.

Robin wants to make a sly comment about your willingness to brave the cold for this shaggy man, who seems to have taken a full shower, shave and added cologne to his washed outfit for the evening. She bites her tongue.

“Bathroom?” Nancy suggests that she go upstairs, and Robin will check this floor.

Steve hauls himself from the couch. “I’ll check outside.”

Steve secretly wishes that Eddie be there smoking a joint that he could bum off of. Holidays aren’t Steve’s favorite because his family isn’t around either. He’s here because he can’t say ‘no’ to Mrs. Henderson.

To no knowledge of Eddie, however, is anyone looking out for him. He’s snuck out to his van while everyone else stays distracted by your arrival. Watching your chest bounce while you laugh, or your skirt flutter while you twirl - you’re a God damn tease and you know what you’re doing.

Knock, knock.

You wrap your knuckles against the glass of his van’s driver’s side window. This must be Eddie’s lucky day, and you’re thinking the same by the way you twist in front of him.

“What’s up?” Eddie nods.

You pout. “Well, you didn’t even say ‘hi’ to me and you’re already bailing?”

“I’m not bailing,” he assures. “Besides, do you think that the way we greet each other is appropriate to do in public?”

A part of you is quite offended that he hasn’t addressed the elephant in the room. Not only did he neglect to call you in the past few months, nor did he greet you at the door like the rest of your friends had done earlier. But, the other part of you is winning over this tug of war. You haven’t had sex in months, and shining your own shield only goes so far.

During the summer, you got what you wanted. You and Eddie screwed like rabbits. When you left, a nagging itch was left that couldn’t be scratched. Admittedly, you got cozy in his apartment. Your sleepovers became ‘Good Morning’ with a side of eggs and toast. Soon began you washing the dishes after, and Eddie asking about what you’re studying for school.

After a while, his apartment became a second home and you no longer had to ask where the bathroom was. You pretended that this little game was to keep Dustin’s watchful eye out of sight, but sipping your morning brew without asking Eddie to add anymore cream or sugar became a bit more than you bargained for.

You’re leaning forward now to press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. But, before you have a chance to pull away, Eddie slots his lips to yours like he’s made his way home.

“You want to take advantage that there’s no one parked behind me? Like old times?” Eddie pinches your chin with his index finger and his thumb.

It just so happens that the Beyers family is running a tad behind schedule. Will couldn’t find his Christmas sweater, and Johnathan had to second his shower because according to his mom, he still stunk like a skunk had run through their house. But, as they finally do pull up to the lively home with Christmas lights twinkling on the roof, Joyce Byers spots the eldest Henderson twisted in close conversation with the Munson boy.

Joyce parks their car halfway onto the sidewalk because Johnathan is jolting out of the car murmuring something about the food smelling so good. This leaves Will to juggle the grocery bags full of potatoes and Mac and Cheese into the house. But, Joyce stops to interrupt the conversation you’re having.

“Hi, Miss. Byers,” you pull away from the conversation to greet her warmly.

“Joyce, honey! Joyce!” She corrects. “I didn’t mean to- oh, I’m sorry. Hello, Eddie!”

Eddie waves his hand in her direction. That’s not to be rude, but he would rather not have Joyce see him in a pair of tight denim with his dick as hard as it is right now.

“We’re just going out for a last minute grocery run,” your lie leaves a sour note on your tongue.

Joyce knows very well that the last grocery store to stay open on Thanksgiving has closed about thirty minutes ago. But, she doesn’t tell them that she knows this. She quite fondly looks back to her own memories of when she snuck out of her family ‘s Christmas party with her boyfriend at the time.

“Be safe,” Joyce winks, then turns on her heel to go inside.

You’re quick to hop into the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. An old bitter cigarettes scent stains the interior of the vehicle like a thick layer of butter on toast. You buckle up, then kick your feet out in what little room he has under the dash. Eddie’s abused the passenger side of his van for fast food wrappers and travel mugs he hasn’t taken inside for however long.

Aside from a tire whining, Eddie cuts the headlights to sneak out of the drive without anyone noticing from inside.

Eddie places one of his hands across your thigh, “Grocery shopping?”

"What was I supposed to say?" You shake your head

You’re biting at the edge of something wonderful here. Looking on to your left, Eddie’s got his lip tugged between his teeth. His eye on the road. His mind in the gutter. The hand he’s got squeezing against the fat of your inner thigh dances dangerously across your skin. Your spine arches straight back. Eyes shut blissfully as you let a whine escape you.

Then, he dares flick your awaiting clit while driving solo with one hand on the wheel and an eye on the road. Not to be crude, but he’s been here before with you. Tight on time. Sneaking about like high schoolers still. You’re on his mind most of the time these days because he wants to know if what you did with him all summer is what you would do in college with other people. He’s subjected himself to exhausting torturous hours at work just so he doesn’t have to think about you in your back getting railed by a random dude.

Somehow he’s got you here now, and your putty under his fingers. Your eyelashes flutter. Brows furrow. Your chest rises and falls at the lightest touches from him.

Clenching your legs against his large grip he's got on you, Eddie pulls off to the side of the road. He’s waited far too long to revisit this little charade. Pulling in behind a few trees, he doesn’t have to ask because you’re already climbing into the back.

You land on a set of blankets he hasn’t taken out since you left.

Eddie crawls into the back after you. Kisses like he never left. Nostalgia makes your heart skip inside of your chest. He keeps you there under his touch, and squeezing at your sides as you sink deeper into his embrace.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Eddie breathes onto your neck, before attaching himself there and nibbling into your flesh.

Your whines acknowledge that he’s got just the right spot - like he could have forgotten. The embrace is so familiar that your chest burns for him.

“More,” you beg into his hair, while gripping your hands into fists of the fabric on his back.

If there was more time, Eddie would have stayed there all night just to hear your heart beat against his eardrum. Yet, he’s undoing his belt, the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down to match you flipping up that sinful little skirt you wore just to tease him. Wetting his fingers, he then hooks his pinky in your underwear to move them to the side. Rubbing your clit, Eddie hears your moans bounce from each side of the van. You’re on full display. Deliciously beautiful and all for him.

You’re both aware of this, so there’s no need to say anything.

“Eddie,” except you do. “Please. I need you!”

“I’ll never stop needing you,” he finds your lips again, as he pushes himself deep inside of you.

Groaning together, your core aches a familiar feeling. Tightening your grip against him like you’re scared he’ll run away. He’s got his eye not on your eye, but on your soul. Reaching far beneath the depths that anyone could ever fall into, and at its core is you. Your being is the only part he’ll ever need - the only thing he longs for. And so, as he’s fucking you at a punishing rate, he holds on tight for he’s afraid to let go.

You break the eye contact when you toss your head back. Stars form in your vision, as you topple over the edge of bliss. Following soon, you hear Eddie groan one last time and he’s spilling inside of you.

“Shit,” he rolls onto the blankets trying to catch his breath.

You’re doing the same, and with one long exhale, you swing yourself over so that you’re laying across his body. Eddie drowsily opens his eye to see the most beautiful creature he’s laid his eye on. Lipstick smeared. Mascara smudged. Your heart sounds as though it’s going to burst from your chest.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly.

Eddie chuckles. “Hey, beautiful.”

Beautiful. That’s an unspoken word between you two. Usually, after sex, the two of you either dress in silence or roll over and go to sleep. You miss the feeling of being wanted, and you’ve got your fingers crossed that he’s not just playing his cards.

Eddie’s hand finds the small of your back to bring you closer.

“What are you thinking about?” He touches your forehead with his index finger.

You nibble at the inside of your cheek, before bravely making the leap to ask. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you’ll never stop needing me,” you swallow thickly.

Eddie’s fingers make patterns along your bare back. Eyes locked onto yours, he studies your face through the shadows of the arriving evening. All this time you’ve been away, you’ve been on his mind. If he knew what dorm you live in, he’d be there in a heart beat to keep you warm during these cooler months.

“I’ll never,” he folds your fingers in with his just so he can bring your hand to his mouth, and so he can kiss every knuckle on your hand, “stop needing you.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you lean in for a kiss.

Someone bashes a fist against the back door to the van, and you know your screwed. Red and blue lights flicker and flash outside the window.

"Shit!" You scramble to pat down your hair, and your skirt.

Eddie tucks himself into his pants, while muttering curses to himself.

“Police!” Jim Hopper’s voice is easily recognizable. “Come on, Munson. Don’t make me come in there.”

With a few run-ins with the law, and making a reputation as the “freak” of Hawkins High School, Eddie’s van became a staple around town. Even the police knew just about where ever he is at any time.

Tumbling over each other, you’re sure the guilt is written all over your faces. Nearly blinded by a flashlight to the face, you shield your eye away from Jim Hopper, who squints at you two. Clearly caught in the act of a wild youthful fantasy, Jim clicks off his flashlight and speaks to you both;

“I was on my way to your mom’s house,” he makes a point to stare you down, before continuing, “when I was radioed that there’s a suspicious van lingering off the side of the road. Care to explain?”

Not like there is much explaining to do. The story is pretty black and white, but that doesn’t discourage Eddie to come up with an aching bumble of lies.

“We were just on our way to the grocery store when we ran out of gas,” he began with your earlier plot. “We ran out of cranberry sauce.”

“Right,” Jim grunts. “I better give you a ride back.”

Walking back into the house to explain why you and Eddie disappeared has been mute to your ears. All of the funny faces from the younger kids, or the suspected glances from the older friends. God, you’d never hear the end of this from Robin. She’s been on your behind about fixing you up with Eddie for a while.

“You okay?” Eddie nudges you.

Jim says with his back turned, “Come on, kids. No use standing around a dead car. I’ll see what I can do about getting you back here with a gas can in the morning.”

“I’m fine,” you're embarrassed, but you're warm knowing where you stand with Eddie.

You’re crammed in the back of Jim’s Chevrolet with Eddie. Also stuffed between you two, is a sizable Tupperware full of mashed potatoes. El twists around in the front seat to let you know that she made them this year.

Bumps in the road weigh heavy against the beating inside your chest. You’re not speaking a language that Eddie totally understands, but he knows where your head is at. He touches your pinky with his sending a few jolts straight to your heart and your stomach flips. You continue to manage the Tupperware from tipping all over the seats.

The Sheriff spins the wheel to turn down your street. That empty spot Eddie left has Jim’s name written all over it.

Somehow the home has become busier than when you left earlier. Sounds of laughter bubble through the chill of the evening. The blinds are drawn, so you can see the Christmas tree in the living room lined with a calamity of decorations that have been collected over the years. Tinsel shines against the living room lamps draped across doorways, and the window frame. Your mom insists on putting the decorations up the day after Halloween.

You can almost hear Wayne’s boyish laughter that he’s never quite grown out of, while he tortures the young kids. He’s cornered Lucas and Max with a fake bushel of mistletoe in his hand. Max squirms when Lucas kisses her on the cheek, but later blushes while no one is looking.

The car tilts as the group climbs out and down onto the driveway. You’ll never understand the love for a lifted truck like this.

Despite wanting to be useful, El takes the mashed potatoes from you.

“I’ll be taking that!” She announces proudly.

With El and Jim both taking the lead, Eddie sneaks in to tug at your hand.

The front door swings open.

“Jim Hopper,” Wayne announces. “And- erm, Eddie?”

You poke your head around Jim’s back, and Wayne’s mouth draws agape.

“Their grocery store run ended on a flat tire, so I brought them back here,” Jim says.

“Thank you for rescuing them,” he replies. “Well, come in. Dinner is just about ready.”

Jim, El and yourself enter the home without too much inquiry from Wayne. But, you hear a thunk and Eddie’s protest, so you can imagine Wayne just knocked some sense into the back of Eddie’s head.

“You must be cold, darling,” Wayne snaps his finger. “I’ll bring you some hot chocolate. Go on and sit by the fire in the living room. Your friends have been waiting for you.”

Pinching Eddie on the ear, Wayne drags him away to the kitchen where you just know he’s getting scolded.

You bite the bullet, and find your friends in the living room surrounding the fireplace. Steve’s fought for and gotten the prime spot, so that his back is to the flame and he’s heating up in the knitted sweater that Nancy made for him.

Johnathan is still unhappy about the exchange by the way, even if she knitted him a pair of socks later. You can’t imagine a world where Johnathan and Steve might get along anyway. Nancy has false hopes.

“There you are!” Nancy worries like a mom who’s lost sight of her kids for more than five minutes. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Really?” You plop down next to Robin on the couch, who’s got this grin that you beg won’t start talking.

“Won’t you enlighten us?” Robin bats her lashes.

Steve clears his throat. “Don’t think she’ll have too.”

“Warm up with this,” Eddie’s come from the kitchen with hot chocolate in hand. He hands it to you, and kisses the top of your head.

“Shut up!” Robin yells. “Really?”

“Really what?” Dustin pokes his head from around the corner before Eddie can snake his hands away from you. “Oh, damn.”

-> <-

tags: @ali-r3n

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson preference #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut

705 notes · View notes

thydungeongal · 8 months

Text

A TPK is basically a failure state for the whole group in an action-oriented tabletop RPG, especially one where there is an extended narrative being told. A TPK means that the game ends for everyone. The whole group has to make a whole new party and start again.

It's an acceptable failure state in a traditional challenge game. You simply roll up a new character or flesh out one of your named followers. Lots of older school challenge games even have rules supporting some type of inheritance, where players can put some amount of money aside to be transferred to a new character in the event of their current character's death.

But a TPK isn't a desired outcome in a game that uses a challenge game engine but tries to have an extended narrative. Because a TPK means the continuity of characters involved in the narrative is broken.

I think this leads to a perverse incentive where these games make overcoming obstacles, especially lethal ones, into the most fun activity, but if a group wants to use the game as a platform for story-telling beyond "a bunch of adventurers try to get rich by doing dangerous shit" then the person running the game is encouraged to run encounters that have the appearance of being dangerous encounters, but they can't actually ever be too dangerous.

And I mean the fact that creating characters in lots of these types of games requires a number of elaborate steps means that there is a further disincentive to actually kill off characters.

The arduous process of character creation runs counter to a challenge game when systems only support death as a failure state. But if the game is being used to tell an extended narrative then there are many incentives in place for the GM not to actually challenge the players lethally, but because combat is often the most interesting part of gameplay it means that low-stakes narratively unfulfilling combat often become the norm. And once players grow wise to the fact that their characters' survival is required for the sake of narrative continuity it destroys a lot of tension.

Of course there would be various ways to address this but I'm unsure whether these will ever be popularized:

Not treating death as the only failure state, even in combat.

Being explicit in your design goals, i.e. should the primary mode of engaging with the game be to engage in challenges or to tell an extended narrative that sometimes include action scenes.

Treating failure in action scenes as not a Game Over, but a potential story branch.

There isn't a one size fits all solution to these issues. A lot of these I feel arise from tradition and the fact that certain assumptions of RPGs have gone unexamined even as playstyles have changed. And this isn't an universal issue: I feel Break!! (a newer adventure RPG with a very traditional structure) averts some of these issues both through having failure states beyond death and having relatively straightforward character creation, so even in the event of death making a new character isn't a huge hurdle. But in general I feel lots of RPG designers working on traditional action-oriented games where death is the only major failure state neglect to think about these things

#long post

636 notes · View notes

diremoone · 5 months

Text

written in fine print | r. sukuna

moving to japan to get a breath of fresh air was supposed to be one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. it still may be, but now you’ve got a problem and you don’t know what to do about it. the problem? ryomen sukuna, one of the wealthiest men on the planet, being… enamored with you. you’ve come fairly far with him as “friends” while keeping him at bay, but after you both spend christmas together, you know that things have changed. and come the first day of the new year comes a surprise that forces you to face your bottled-up truth.

[ Ryomen Sukuna Masterlist ] | part three

w — slowburn, age gap, modern au, older man/younger woman, fluff, mild? angst, this time we get reader’s pov bc it’s time ;3, insecure! reader, self-indulgence, A KISS (but just one for now sorry y’all), reader and sukuna lay their feelings on the table (I’m sorry I couldn’t help but finally get to this part), sukuna gets kinda prose-y lmao, slightly unsatisfied with this fic but I hope y’all enjoy anyway, sprinkle of bittersweet at the end

God, have mercy upon my soul.

The dozens of text messages from your cousin have you sitting on the edge of your bed in absolute disbelief. You haven’t even had any coffee yet, or any sort of something in your stomach. It’s sheer willpower keeping you from throwing up the stomach acid in your belly.

But you do need something. You make your way into the kitchen and nab the biscuits you made yesterday from the bag they were in. You shouldn’t, but you eat all four of them anyway. Then you drink something.

You were wondering why everything was going too good, why life had been so… easy as of late. Now you understood why. It was the calm before the storm. It was the universe allowing you to have some semblance of peace before it decided to throw you into the pit of mental and emotional turmoil that you’d been so great at avoiding.

Why in the world did the universe decide to put Ryomen Sukuna into your life?

That’s the question you have been asking yourself over and over again ever since you decided to take him up on the offer of a first date six months ago. Even worse, why did you even think it was a remotely good idea to get involved with someone over ten years older than you? Universe aside, you should’ve had the good judgement to keep Sukuna away. Your good intuition was something you’d always prided yourself on, so why did you decide to even let Sukuna keep coming around?

You go back to your room and get the phone, rereading over the messages. One in particular your eyes stay on:

A benefactor has paid for nana’s care and set her up in a really fancy, upscale care and rehabilitation facility here. They came and got her this morning to transfer her. When I asked about it, someone from registration said it was a gift for you. Who the fuck did you meet in Japan? 5:16 am

And you know, deep within your soul and in your gut that Sukuna was behind this. There’s no one you know that has the money to pull off something like taking your grandmother from where she was to a facility where she’s going to get more constant help, cleaned, proper rehabilitation. No one else but him.

The coffee maker suddenly beeps, beginning to brew a fresh pot of coffee. You almost jump out of your skin from it. You wait until it’s done before digging out one of the banana nut muffins Shoko brought over two nights ago to pre-celebrate the new year.

You truly don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure about everything. Coming to Japan to get a breath of fresh air from the strain your old life was supposed to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made. But now, all it’s become is a whirlwind of even more, even deeper emotional confusion.

Meeting Yuuji was great. Meeting his older brother? The entire source of the emotional confusion.

You lean against the counter and gaze outside. The snow has finally ceased and you’re sure dozers are out clearing the roads. You can’t help but fall into your thoughts.

For awhile, you’ve had… feelings. You’re not quite sure what they are, but you know that they revolve around the older, rich man you’ve befriended. You know that whenever he’s around, you feel more… open, lighter even. You know he makes you feel flustered, to which you’ve learned to seal said fluster inside of a bottle and remain indifferent in his presence. Every time he looks at you or speaks to you, it makes you feel… giddy. Happy, dare you say it.

And it’s something you swallow down and hide every time it bubbles to the surface, fearing that it’ll be nothing more than the same story as your mother: a heart broken by the letdown of not ever being enough, not being what the man actually wanted, and not being genuinely cared for.

The mug of coffee in your hands grows hot, almost scalding against the skin of your palms. It brings you out of your own mind, just in time to hear your phone vibrate with more text messages, all still from your cousin.

Because apparently fate dropped a man in your lap that was more than ready to give you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted: unconditional love on a gold platter; fate decided that you finally deserve a break from strife and grief, that you deserved to stop eating humble pie, because lord knows you’ve done choked and damn near suffocated on that shit; that you deserved to be cherished and loved and made to be someone’s number one in their life.

You know. You fucking know what Sukuna does to you, how he makes you feel inside. You also know how he wants to treat you and the things he wants to do to you. And perhaps with you, if your gut instinct is right and he wants more than a body to warm his bed.

Who are you kidding? You know you’re right.

But it’s unfortunate for you that all you’ve learned to do is bottle up your feelings and act like they don’t exist. Because you’ve never been loved, not romantically anyway. Especially not like this, from someone like this.

How were you supposed to love? What did it really mean to be in a relationship? You’ve never been in one. Not one that ever really was going to go as far as this. Was what you were feeling all temporary? And if you did get into a relationship, what if he didn’t like you when you got comfortable? What if he didn’t like it when you laughed too hard, or any of the habits you have? What if he was just wanting to play savior and ended up leaving you a few months from now?

You toss your head back and groan. Why? Why was this happening to you?

You opt to spend the day inside, rather than go out like you had planned. You have to text Shoko and Utahime, letting them know that you’re not going to be able to participate in their plans of going out and visiting shrines for the new year. The latter is reasonably mad, but Shoko calms her down in the group chat. Although she does make an innuendo about spending the day with someone else “cozied up in bed” rather than them. You send her a side eye emoji in return on her personal thread.

You change out of your pajamas and into some casual clothes — a dark red long sleeve and some black sweatpants, switching to house socks to regular socks — despite not intending to go out for the day. You do end up on the couch for most of the day, switching your attention from the TV and the messages on your phone more than you care to admit. You hardly eat, and don’t realize it until you can feel your stomach against your spine each time.

All day is basically wasted in front of the television, trapped in your own mind. Trapped in the whirlwind that Sukuna has made of your heart and emotions.

You graze through your entire stock of sweets in less than a day, uncaring if it was unhealthy. Dusk settles on the horizon before you know it and you’re anything but tired. In fact, you’re wide awake.

“What do I do…?” you ask into the open air. You feel stupid doing it, but apparently fate has a response for you.

It’s 9:18 at night when several strong knocks rap at your door.

It’s 9:20 when you decide to finally answer the door.

It’s 9:24 when you realize you’ve got a guest at the front door, the very same man who’s been making you question yourself and your whole life ever since coming to this country.

It’s 9:30 when you question to yourself why you let him in. You didn’t think it through, that much you’re sure of. How could you be when he’s thrown your heart all topsy-turvy and mushed it into goo?

Just looking at him from his back floods your mind and makes your heart race, something you hope you’re able to hide by what you hope is a face of indifference and calmness. You can see the tattoos peek out from his turtleneck, and you have to gulp down your nervousness.

The large mug of fruity tea you’ve poured has now chilled, the ice just barely clinking in the glass. You quickly open the cookie jar on the counter and shove two snickerdoodles in your mouth to stress-eat being prepared for what was coming next.

“I…” you begin, and embarrassingly realize you have to swallow the cookies to talk. “I wasn’t expecting you to… show up.”

Sukuna’s silent for a moment, then replies stoically, “Neither was I.”

You gaze at him longer than you intend to. Your attention is mostly on his tattoos, the little bits that are peeking out from the deep crimson of his form-fitting turtleneck. You watch him readjust the watch on his wrist, partially revealing the tattoo inked onto his wrist. To your surprise, Sukuna actually doesn’t like showing off his tats. He used to in his younger years; he’s still proud of them, but he isn’t as much into flaunting them to the world nowadays.

Sukuna’s deep voice cuts through the air. “Have you… gotten my gift?”

You bite your lower lip. You nod even though he can’t see you. “Yeah… If you mean the one involving my grandmother, then yes.”

“I do apologize if I crossed any lines doing such a thing,” he says. “But I don’t regret it.”

“I can imagine you don’t,” you reply, knowing full-well that him regretting anything was a very rare occurrence. “But… Why? Why would you do that? Go through such trouble to help me… and my family? Just… Why?”

His ginormous frame turns to face you to look into your eyes and answer with nothing short of honesty, “Because I want you to be cared for. I’ve seen happiness in your eyes and I want to keep you happy. I want to be the one making you happy.”

“Buying my love will only get you so far,” you say.

“I know. I want to do more for you. I want… to be more for you. Not just… this. Whatever we have going on,” Sukuna admits casually, crossing his burly arms over his chest. But he doesn’t make eye contact. In fact, he keeps his eyes to the floor, away from your gaze. “I know what I want, although I’m not quite sure how to describe everything I feel… when I’m with you and when I think about you. It’s… I know what it is, I’m pretty sure, but at the same time… I don’t.”

“It’s new for you,” you mumble. Surprisingly, he actually hears you and nods. He doesn’t lie. Not with you.

“I’ve been with many women over the years, all for the same reason. I’ve never felt like falling in love or that it would ever matter. I know lust, I know what comes with that. With you, it’s anything but. At first, yes. But your immediate rejection, you continuing to keep your distance from me and your distaste known made me stop and think.”

You raise your brows. “All it took was a girl with some strong boundaries to make you realize you can’t live off being just horny for then rest of your life?”

Sukuna laughs. He actually laughs. A bright smile crosses his handsome face as his shoulders shake with laughter. He tries to cover it up with a hand, but all it does it muffle it into loud chuckles. It takes a good couple minutes before his chuckles finally fall into a simple smile of amusement. That’s when you admit your own truths. If you were going to be hurt, you might as well get it over with.

“In a way,” Sukuna admits. And then he admits even more, opening his heart and putting it on his sleeve. “You’ve reminded me that there is more to life, that I can be genuinely happy beyond office walls and red light districts. You have made me remember what feeling excited, what being on my toes feels like. You make the air lighter… happier, every time I see you. You… I care for you.”

Sukuna’s last words of admission are watered-down and you both know it. Then again, he says he is new to these kinds of feelings. And at this point, you believe him. You wonder if he knows that you’re just like him — exactly the same: that you’re new to the feelings of love, what it means to be in love. It’s confusing, really. You’re not sure where to begin when it comes to saying the things that Sukuna has seemingly had no problem admitting to you. You can’t just say, “Ditto” and make out with him.

Well, you could, but that’s beside the point.

You swallow the frog in your throat and look at him. He isn’t looking at you but at the ground, almost like he’s unsure of himself.

“You’ve made yourself a cozy place inside me, too,” you speak softly. Your hands don’t leave the mug as you set it on the counter. “We’ve only known each other for barely half a year, you know? You make me wonder if what I’m feeling is love, most of the time. I enjoy you; I enjoy your company. I enjoy the thrill you bring into my life. I… enjoy how weightless you make the world feel. I… I like the thought of being… prioritized. I’m just… confused on whether or not these feelings are rooted in love or something else entirely.”

“And I apologize for making you feel that way,” he replies. “That isn’t my intention.”

You’re quick to your words before he can continue. “Don’t apologize. Please. It’s not your fault. I… I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what love is or what it’s supposed to feel like. I’ve never been loved, and I’m not quite sure how to reciprocate it. I’m afraid I’ll fuck up. Say the wrong thing, not do something right.”

Sukuna’s brows furrow. “There is no right or wrong way to be in a relationship — just yourself.”

“I’ve heard that, just as much as I’ve heard otherwise.”

Silence fills your apartment. You tap your nails against the glass mug, little tinks! resounding. You can’t look at Sukuna now. Not after just admitting to having never been in a romantic relationship. Now, you must seem more of your age than you ever have in his eyes.

“Any insecurity you have is not invalid. I would never disrespect them,” Sukuna finally says, sheer conviction making you shiver.

The giant man stands to take his place not even a foot from you. Magnetism draws you to his face and you cannot look away. His hand comes up and brushes his large fingers across your cheek.

And like an open book, he reads you from the front cover to the very last word, reading off your exterior cover and the interior pages you’ve hidden away. “You’ve carved yourself from early maturity, into someone that your loved ones have needed you to be. You’ve never been able to truly be yourself, be free. You’ve always had to be the rock that everyone has needed, when no one has been for you. You desire to be loved, but not at the expense of heartbreak nor sacrificing the person you’ve molded yourself into for the people you love. You desire to be free above all else, not wanting to be loved unless there’s someone who can love you and give you your freedom at the same time.”

You gape, eyes almost as wide as saucers with your eyelids lined with burning tears. You dip your head and sniffle.

“I want that. I want that for you. I want to be the one to give that to you,” Sukuna continues. “The time we spent together not even a week ago, I want more of that. I no longer want to live the way I’ve been living. I want to live with you, do those kinds of things with you. That sounds corny as fuck coming from me of all people, but that’s the truth.”

You can’t help but laugh. His tone of exasperation at himself was just too funny not to.

“And what happens when you give me those things? Will you be done with me? Move on to the next person?” you ask. “Once you’ve played the part of the savior, won’t those feelings end?”

“I’ll never be done with you,” he answers instantaneously, like it was nothing short of law. “You’ve captivated me, all of me. I’ve already tried pulling myself away a multitude of times. But then one little word of anything about you and you’re all I think about for the rest of the day.”

You sniffle again and laugh. “Did you practice this? You sound like a poet.”

“I can be one if you’d like.” You giggle at that. It’s silly, but you feel like Sukuna would oblige you if you said yes. “But I mean it, every word.”

You nod and whisper, “I know you do.” Because it’s the truth. He’ll never not mean anything he says. Brutal honesty is apart of Sukuna.

The emptiness of your apartment is deafening, it’s silence almost palpable to the point where you feel like you might being to suffocate. But large, firm hands cup your cheeks and bring oxygen into your lungs again.

His hands are warm, so warm. The feeling of being touched like this, so intimately, makes all the blood flow to your cheeks to the point where you think you’ll overheat.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, tone quiet, voice deep and baritone that makes shivers roll up your spine. “At least once?”

You can’t help but bite into your lower lip. The suffocating feeling has returned, just for a different reason. But your instinct goes first — action taking the initiative over the brain — and you nod once more, mumbling out a small “yes” that you chastise yourself for being so meek.

Sukuna’s free arm wraps around your waist and gently pulls you to your tippy-toes. You’re running on instinct, one hand resting on his chest, the other circling behind his neck, eyelids slowly closing as he dives in for the kiss you’ve allowed. And when his hand cradles the back of your head, his lips meet yours, and you swear to everything from heaven to hell that you’re about to explode and die in this man’s arms.

Everything feels like it’s on fire… until it doesn’t. That fire slowly simmers down to a gentle flame, one that brings a sense of contentment.

Sukuna tilts his head, moving your lips and deepening the kiss. You allow it, and it feels like the kiss has sunk to a new depth of desire. Dare you even think or say it be devotion. His lips are warm and sweet on yours; his kiss isn’t one of urgency, but perhaps the desperation of longing. It’s not slow and controlling, not greedy. Whatever this kiss is and all the emotions contained within, you know it makes you at peace and content.

Everything feels perfect.

You both part for air, lips slow to disconnect. You can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed being so out of breath, but hearing the slight heaviness of breath coming from the large man makes you feel less awkward.

“Thought you said you hadn’t been in a relationship before?”

Your reply is breathless, “Never have.”

“Then you must be a naturally good kisser.”

That makes you laugh. You press your head to his chest and giggle away, to which you hear what you think is a chuckle from his throat.

It’s 11:20 at night by the time you look at the clock again. It’s too late for Sukuna to go home. That’s the excuse you use anyway. He’s seemingly more than happy to use the excuse right along with you to spend a night with you.

Come morning, however, things shift back to the way they were before: confusing and lonely. The couch was just as empty as the apartment. Under you was not Sukuna’s body, but a stack of pillows from your bedroom.

The note on the counter about being called in for an important meeting doesn’t do his absence justice either, instead sending every one of your walls back up, twice as high and just as thick as they were before.

Your phone dings with new messages. Utahime and Shoko, both of which declare they’re coming over to drag your ass out of your apartment to go shopping like you should’ve yesterday.

You text them back, telling them you’ll meet them at the mall, that you’re going to get ready and this time you aren’t going to miss out.

You don’t know what to do or what to think. You don’t know if one night of vulnerability means anything more than just being open with another human being. All you know is that you need a break, from yourself, your confusion, from life, and especially from Sukuna.

You need the clarity of a shopping trip and good friends for company, because your hopes for what’s coming next are getting far too high and you’re beginning to really fall in love with Sukuna Ryomen.

taglist: (no longer adding)

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #modern! sukuna #modern! au #jjk sukuna #sukuna fluff

434 notes · View notes

crackedpumpkin · 1 year

Text

ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴏɴᴇ ||

[ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“If there is a god out there, please make sure my order isn’t missing any pickles this time.”

“Here ya go, extra pickles on the side,” Mr. Perez, the store owner, grunts as he all but flings a wrapped sub into your hands from behind the counter. You grab it with relative ease, undeterred by how oddly soggy the parchment paper is. It’s a slow day in the sub shop, with many of its usual customers absent.

“How much?”

“Five bucks.”

“How’s Didi?” You ask, fishing out a crumpled five-dollar bill in your pocket and handing it to him. You drop another into the tip jar when his back is turned, humming innocently when he faces you with a bag of small cookies.

“The usual. Slightly less of the devil incarnate lately, though. I think it’s because you’re coming over to babysit more often.” You take the cookies gratefully, a small note written in the ten-year-old’s messy scrawl glued to the side. You stash it away in your backpack, ensuring it doesn’t get crushed behind your sketchbook and pencil case.

“Is that y/n?” You hear the clatter of plates being shoved aside, Didi peeking out from behind the blinds that separate the storefront from the stairs that lead upstairs to their house. You smile but realize she won’t be able to see it through your cloth mask.

“In the flesh,” You grin, scooping Didi into a tight hug. You prop her on your hip, transferring the sub to your free hand as she giggles. “Have you made any new friends in school?”

Her lips purse into a pout, fiddling with your hair with sulky eyes. “No…They’re all stinky. Except for Maribelle, because she likes pickles.”

“Does no one else like pickles, then?” You ask curiously, Didi shaking her head.

“Tommy and Jam like them, but they’re boys,” She informs you in complete and utter seriousness. You’re so tempted to comment, but you know that if you did, she’d sulk for at least half an hour.

“Jam?”

“Yeah, Jam.”

“Are you sure that’s his name?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then,” You shrug, turning your head to the side so she can’t see the amused glint in your eyes.

“Are you headed to the bank?” Mr. Perez asks offhandedly, cleaning one of his bread knives with a damp cloth.

“Gotta cash in the moolah,” You rub your fingers together in reference to the cheque that’s buried somewhere in the bottom of the heavy bag on your shoulders. You had recently finished a commission, and your client had tipped you generously, paying you an extra fifty bucks on top of the two hundred she was already paying.

“Can I come? I wanna come. I’m going,” Didi demands as she braids a few strands of your hair. You look back at Mr. Perez for permission, the gruff man nodding in response.

“Okay, but make sure you always stay with me, yeah?” Didi nods eagerly, kicking your side slightly as she points to the door. You leave the store with her in your arms, making your way to the bank.

“Can we buy Legos?” You hum in thought, trying to decide how to reject Didi’s request without being too harsh. She tugs the beanie on your head, and it slides down to just above your eyes. You chuckle, using the back of your preoccupied sub-carrying hand to shift it back up slightly.

“Do you have enough money to buy some?”

“I got money!” Didi’s small hands search her pockets, patting down until she finds what she’s looking for. She pulls out a ten-dollar bill with a triumphant smile, eyes shining with anticipation as she looks at you.

“Then we’ll buy some on the way back, yeah?” You offer, already seeing the money leave your wallet when you pay for the leftover cost of the Lego set.

“Hmm…Okay!” Didi agrees after a moment of thought, clapping her hands together and urging you to walk faster. You break into a slight jog just to tease her, soon reaching the doors of the large bank.

You push past the huge glass doors with your shoulder, the sub still in your hands. You couldn’t put it in your bag, fearing it’d ruin your cherished sketchbook and, even worse, the crumpled cheque buried somewhere near it.

You eye the long lines for each counter, groaning at the thought of a prolonged wait. You scan the hall, trying to find the shortest queue.

There. You quickly join the line of people waiting, breathing a sigh of relief when you see a few more people join your queue right after you do. The bank is mostly quiet; the only sounds are fingers clacking away on keyboards and hushed conversations of bank account details.

A trio of men wearing black cloth masks stand in a corner, furtively glancing around and having a hushed conversation amongst themselves. Two large bags are on the floor next to the shortest one, all three nodding at each other before the other two pick up the bags and head towards the door while the shortest approaches the information counter with another bag slung on his hip.

Huh. Maybe they have social anxiety.

You watch them converse with the clerk, half your attention on Didi, who’s tugging on your hair while braiding it out of boredom. You spot the clerk smiling nervously in your peripheral, brushing it off as the usual horrible customer service interaction.

You focus on Didi instead, jostling her slightly in your arms. She yelps, lips pursing into a scowl when she’s disturbed from her concentrated braiding. You giggle, entertained by her reaction. You lean in, bumping your head against hers in a gentle tease.

The doors slam shut.

You flinch at the sudden sound, turning to see the two men from earlier at the entrance. Each stands in front of the doors, arms crossed with two large rifles in their hand as they quickly adorn ski masks. The man at the information counter now has a gun in their hands, pointing it up at the ceiling and firing a single shot.

The loud bang startles Didi, who instantly covers her ears, pushing her head against your shoulder with a small squeak. You protectively hold her close to you, ready to shield her body with your own in case anything happens.

“Everyone drop everything, get down on the ground, and lift your hands now!”

You slowly sink to the ground, eyes never leaving the guns in their hands. This situation is the opposite of ideal. Being held hostage isn’t exactly part of your five-year plan for graduation. The doors are guarded by the guards, dark silhouettes blocking the sunlight.

“Hey! I said to drop everything and lift up your hands,” One of the robbers guarding the doors earlier points a gun straight at you with a glare. You look from the weapon to the sub in your hands, reluctant to let go.

“I said, drop it!”

You gingerly set it down with a defeated sigh. “You happy now?” You ask him with a scowl. He steps towards you, still aiming his gun at you as he picks up your sub and throws it to the side. It lands with a plop onto the dirty ground, now a ruined mess.

“Wha- My sub!” You complain with an offended gasp, now glaring at the man who just destroyed your dinner. You see the arch of his brow beneath his thin ski mask, exchanging a confused look with his accomplice.

“You do know this is loaded, right?” He questions with a wave of his gun.

“You just threw away a perfectly fine sub! It even had extra pickles!” You argue, still mourning the loss of your dinner. Setting down your sub you could deal with. But flinging it against the wall? That was absolutely uncalled for. “You’re a maniac,” You seethe, your jaw clenched as you shoot him the coldest glare you can muster.

You hear tiny sniffles and a loud hiccup from beside you, looking down to see Didi’s scrunched nose with snot dripping down it and tears streaming down her red cheeks. Her lips are pressed tightly together, but you know she’s about to start wailing.

“Hey, hey, Didi,” You call out to her gently, ignoring the robber that watches you intently. “Let’s play a game of patty cake, okay?” You offer, holding out your hands. She places her small ones in yours, and you curl your fingers to cover her own.

“I’m scared,” She hiccups, her sniffles growing louder by the minute. You shush her with a reassuring smile, thinking of a way to soothe her.

“Oi! You sure have a death wish, lil’ missy.” You hear the cock of a gun behind you, turning to see it being pointed straight at you. “I already said: hands up where I can see ‘em.”

“Look, do you want to handle a wailing child that’s bound to attract attention? Or do you want me to calm her down so none of us get a headache?”

After a moment of deliberation, he moves his gun down to his side. “I’m watching you,” He warns.

“Yeah, yeah, as if I’d forget.” You huff with a roll of your eyes, crossing your legs and sitting down with Didi in your lap. “Now, where were we?”

You continue playing patty cake with the trembling girl after coaxing her into removing her hands from her ears. The shortest robber, who seems to be the ringleader of the three, is preoccupied with getting the clerk to empty the enormous vault at the back, stuffing bundles of cash into the large duffel bags they had carried with them earlier.

It’s tense.

Everyone chooses to stay silent, their shaky hands and terrified eyes a pleasure to the thugs. You risk a quick glance around, wondering when the hell Spiderman would show up. Isn’t this in his job description? Was he even getting paid?

Someone knocks on the door.

The two crooks guarding the doors turn instantly, pointing their guns at a familiar figure with their hands raised in surrender.

“Yo! I came here to negotiate, not to fight.”

They look to their ringleader for a response, the latter giving them a nod and gesturing to their guns warily. They nod at each other, hoisting their weapons closer to their chest and opening one of the doors.

Before they can react, Spiderman drops to the floor, immediately kicking their guns out of their hands. They land on the floor with a clatter. “You should really think twice before opening the door for strangers,” He chides, nimbly avoiding a harsh blow from the two thugs surrounding him.

That’s a nice suit.

Your eyes automatically follow him as he swings, dodges, and takes out the robbers in mere minutes. He’s nimble, avoiding each blow and disarming the vicious crooks that threaten to fire.

“One step closer, and she’s dead meat!”

Didi’s body is grabbed from your arms, and you look up in horror as the robber that threatened you earlier holds his gun close to the small child. Tears are dribbling down her cheeks uncontrollably, choking on her stifled sniffles.

“Woah, woah, woah,” The masked vigilante halts in his steps, hands raised up, “Threatening a kid? That’s not gonna look good on your record, man.”

“Then put your hands up, walk to the wall, and give up!”

“Wait!” You scramble to your feet, freezing as soon as you do. The robber presses the gun barrel closer to Didi’s shoulder, an ice-cold grip of fear crawling down your spine at the sight.

You can’t let her get hurt. You rack your brains, trying to figure out a good distraction for Spiderman to take action. “I-I’m pretty sure I’m gonna die, but I just have to say something.”

“Get down on the floor!” The robber shouts harshly, fed up with the kids that keep bothering his easy getaway. You slowly kneel back down, never breaking eye contact with Didi, whose cheeks turn redder by the second. You spot Spiderman’s finger slowly moving to press his web shooter, eyes darting between him and Didi. An idea takes form in your mind, but it’s risky.

You pause, swallowing nervously. “Didi… I’m the one that broke BunBun.”

She screams.

The ear-splitting sound makes the robber wince, dropping her to cover his ears. Spiderman seizes the opportunity, using his web fluid to grab his gun and toss it away in the far corner of the bank. He immediately gets to work through Didi’s screaming, effortlessly capturing the last robber and throwing him aside in a cocoon fashioned out of his web fluid.

You grab Didi, scuttling back into your corner of safety and trying to placate her. You gently rock her in your arms, letting her cry into your shirt. The collar is now soaked with her tears, and you’re beginning to regret confessing to the crime of having accidentally broken one of her favourite plates. You’d blamed it on the passing wind, and she bought it.

“Hey guys, y’all are safe now.” You look back up at Spiderman, who leans against the wall near you, scanning the crowd of relieved people who cheer for his bravery. He chuckles, casually shrugging as he tries to brush off the praise. He double-checks if anyone is hurt, his gaze lingering on you for a split second.

He gives you a brief nod and a friendly two-fingered salute, and you tiredly reciprocate the gesture with a still-crying Didi in your arms. His head moves back slightly in a wince (well, you’re pretty sure it’s a wince. You can’t really tell with his mask and everything.), and for a moment, you feel as though he’s sympathizing with you.

He takes his leave through the glass doors, Spiderman-style, with his web-slinging skills and whatnot. You’re left with the aftermath of the police finally showing up, the crying child deterring them from asking you any further questions besides a short testimony.

“Didi, it’s over now. We’re safe.” You try to soothe her by gently patting her head and hugging her tightly briefly. You’re sure your shirt is soaked by now. It baffles you how a child has so much water in their system that they still sob even after half an hour.

It took an apology, three Lego sets, and a future promise for another at Christmas to get her to stop crying.

— — — — —

The bed creaks noisily when you collapse on it with an exhausted groan, the sound a subtle sign of the old bed frame threatening to break any day now. The glow-in-the-dark stars glued onto your ceiling shines softly, the chilly breeze of Brooklyn gusting through your open window. You’d dropped off Didi on your way home, reassuring Mr. Perez that she was unharmed.

You shiver, getting up to close the window before hanging your beanie on the clothing hooks behind your door. You turn on the switch to the lamp on your desk, the warm yellow light coating your room with a cozy atmosphere.

Your stomach growls, a reminder of your delicious dinner having been a victim in the whole hostage situation from earlier. You sigh. Whatever. You’d grab a bigger breakfast tomorrow instead. For now, though, a simple protein bar from your snack drawer would have to do.

You unwrap it and bite down, munching hungrily while grabbing your sketchbook from your bag and laying it flat on your desk. You flip the pages, eyeing the empty pages with distaste. Page after page of drawings that didn’t meet your standards make your heart sink.

You finally land on an empty page and grab a pencil with your free hand. You tap the end onto the blank paper impatiently, trying to think of more inspiration for your next work. You’d been in a slump lately, and while commissions did give you some extra pocket money to go cafe hopping, it didn’t help much with your lack of artistic creativity.

Your hands itch to sketch out an idea. Anything would do. The only problem is that your brain can’t provide even a smidgen of inspiration. You huff, leaning back in your chair.

You sit up straight and scooch closer to the paper, hoping that maybe that’d trigger some form of idea.

Nope. Nothing. Nothing hits you.

Maybe it’s the happenings of today as well, what with a gun being pointed at you and helping your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman take down those thugs. You grin, recalling how Didi’s scream had impacted the poor goon, lips tugging down slightly at the reminder of your now empty wallet.

You’d have to find another commission soon.

Maybe Spiderman would want one?

You begin to doodle absentmindedly, the scratching of lead against paper a soothing sound that practically lulls you into a trance. You recall the red spray paint of a jagged spider against the black suit, the design of it so simplistic and yet representing his personality so well.

You remember his quick nod to you and silly salute, a chuckle slipping past your lips. How did he look like again? His elbow was bent, and two fingers were placed on his forehead as he leaned against the wall. He’s relatively lean, you recall, and probably taller than you too. It’s difficult to gauge since you were in a rather sticky situation that called for hunched shoulders and hesitant movements.

Your hand moves as if it’s got a mind of its own, recalling the webbed pattern on his suit. You draw and draw, adding shading after a basic outline is done. Your mind is foggy, no other thoughts remain except to transfer your memory onto paper.

Wow.

You stare down at what you’ve just drawn, taking in the overall sketch with a shaky exhale. It’s the best you’ve done in a long while, with all the details contributing to the final product.

It’s exactly as you remember, having drawn Spiderman giving you that silly salute while leaning against the tiled walls. You’d even shaded his suit perfectly.

You’re breathless. Is this really your work? From your own two hands, no less? It’s probably a one-off thing, but boy, does it feel good. Maybe thinking about Spiderman is the main reason why.

You giggle at the entertaining thought, shaking your head.

It’s probably just the adrenaline.

#spiderman: into the spiderverse #Into The Spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #into the spiderverse x reader #spiderman: into the spiderverse x reader

1K notes · View notes

lyomeii · 9 months

Text

jujutsu kaisen ladies (pt.1)

➺ characters: shoko ieri, nobara kugisaki and mei mei.

➺ warnings/notices: lightly yandere themes, manipulation, obsession, isolation, mentioned kidnapping, arranged marriage, mentioned violence, shoko smoking, codependency in mei mei, lightly spoiler from manga (you if you notice of course).

➺ a/n: i love women and there is almost zero content about them around tumblr in the x reader, so I’m making my part.

shoko ieiri

-> her unhealthy behavior is easily hide with her cool and nonchalant attitude. yet, there is a small hint in her eyes whatever you approach her after working to either offer a coffee to help her stay awake after a long shit or just to talk. it’s a sweet view to see shoko smiling at you as her hands slowly holds your at any chance, her slender figures caress your skin and always make you blush like crazy.

-> being close to shoko means that you got used to her smoke habits, specially when is just her around and despite loving it, she will never ever offer you one and you better not ask it. aside from her habit being almost daily, she is often surprised by how much you are willingly to spend time with her. you sometimes cough or wears masks just be closer to her, how adorable.

-> during her days off (which isn’t common), she just loves spend at her place with you. sleeping till late at bed with the two of you cuddling as the sun hits your face through the window. her soft brown eyes staring at your sleeping form while her soft hand caress your lips, wanting to steal a kiss when you wake up soon.

nobara kugisaki

-> it’s hard to nobara to admit that she fell in love with you at first sigh when you step in the tokyo high as a transfer from kyoto. she claimed you as a rival and the right hand of mai, making it a funny experience for you as she often tried to ‘defeat’ you during trainings as well showcase her abilities when possible. making it a lovely scene to everyone present, the spitfire and the calm together.

-> as the two of you get closer, nobara gets more embarrassed to be around you. her cheeks going red whatever you speak directly at her or when you cleaned the dirty of her face after a mission, making your face so closer to hers…she almost kissed you there, but she didn’t as everyone was watching the two of you. one day, as everyone was gone for a mission, leaving the two of you at the dorms alone, nobara decided to take things further with a kiss. holding your face as the two of you were watching a movie, she pressed her lips against yours and ran out of the room, leaving you completely alone after such act. she hides herself inside of the many classroom of the school as you began searching for her.

-> despite the many times you yelled for her name, nobara stood quietly as she hides herself inside a locker. hearing that you accept her feelings and you return it made her almost open the closet, yet a feeling of shame was inside her heart…will it change the friendship with her? after minutes of hiding, nobara step out and the two of you accept dating her, now she wishes to spend the rest of her life with you regardless of the time you have together with her.

mei mei

-> money. that’s how she got you in the very first place, she hired you as some type of personal assistant to take care of her finances and others things, making it easy to interact with you in daily bases without any problems or suspicious. now as you work as her assistant, you’ve to know everyone about mei mei, including her favorite foods (which you cook almost everyday), outfit for the day (you make sure to make her look perfectly) and of course, to take care of her place (like a stay-at-house spouse!). aren’t you so sweetie for her?

-> as much having a great salary from mei mei, you can’t feel weird about it, but you quickly choose to ignore it once she gave you a rise. now, with a bubbly smile you work hard everyday to make sure your boss is granted by your efforts in order to make you gains extra points and maybe extra credits for once you go shopping later. probably buying something to her too!

-> there are times that you wonder why people left you. mom and father don’t call anymore nor your friends, could it be that working for mei mei got your whole schedule? probably so, but it’s so pretty seeing her smiling whatever you finish doing her tasks or you are done with food and she kisses your lips as a thank you…are you even her assistant or something more? her hands on your waist as you clean the dishes and the sweet whispers of love before sleeping ok the same bed with mei mei, could it that you two are dating now?

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

408 notes · View notes

strangersteddierthings · 11 months

Text

The Response

Part Two of The Interview [Part One] [Ao3]

With no exact time given by Robin, Eddie's left to kill time. He drags himself from the YouTube spiral to try and track down Steve on social media. After two hours, he concludes that either Steve has his (and official Corroded Coffin's) socials blocked, or Steve just doesn't have any. He's a bit baffled that people can even find Steve to send hate mail to him.

He shoots a text to Gareth. Can you find Steve on any socials?

He gets an instant reply.

DO NOT CONTACT!!!

WAIT FOR RESPONSE

DONOT MAKE THISS WORSE MUNSON

Eddie frowns down at his phone but doesn't argue. He probably would make it worse. He sends back 'k' and looks back to the laptop. Watches it auto-refresh but Robin's feed hasn't changed.

God, what will Steve have to say?

It's mostly true, that Eddie hasn't thought about Steve in years. That's been deliberate. Eddie was so furious back then. Robin wasn't wrong about him venting his feelings into a song, but how was he supposed to know Hey Steve would be the song the catch the ear of the people? And yeah, the lyrics are very unflattering.

A lot of their first songs were filled with rage. The whole first album is just their collective high school experiences. Songs about growing up in Hawkins and how shit that was for them, a song about Eddie's complicated feelings towards his dad, songs about dungeons and dragons disguised as fantasy ballads, things like that. And, of course, Hey Steve.

He can admit that years ago he reevaluated the lyrics and found it to be more harsh than was warranted. But he figured there was no point worrying about that. People exaggerate in songs all the time. The song is out, people still plead for it to be played during encore performances. Eddie hadn't thought it was hurting anyone to play it.

Hey Steve had taken Eddie less than two days to write. He did almost nothing for those two days except write. Fuck. He was still just a dumb kid when he wrote it, barely graduated high school. And the reason for writing it...

Eddie had know Steve wasn't out to his parents when he'd asked Steve to essentially runaway with him. Steve had worried about things like money, and living situations, and getting food. It had all sounded like excuses to Eddie back then. Like Steve was picking the safety of Hawkins and his parents' house over going out into the world to be with Eddie freely.

They'd fought about it. The worst fight they'd ever had. Yet, here Eddie is, a decade later and unable to recall anything that was actually said. Just a summary of that conversation exists in his mind, now. Steve wanting to wait. To save more money now that his hours at the grocery store would be changing from part time to full with him no longer being in school and able to work the morning shifts. Wait to get his car fully transferred to his name from his parents.

All things that adult Eddie can now see as reasonable. Jesus Fucking Christ. He remembers he'd given Steve some sort of ultimatum. He was leaving on the last Grey Hound from Hawkins to Indy. Steve could meet him at the bus stop or stay, but Eddie was going, with or without him.

Steve had shouted back. He knows they just got louder and nastier until Steve finally told him that he would be going without him, then, because they were over. Even as angry as Eddie had been, he'd held out hope. But that last bus left Hawkins with Eddie on it and no sign of Steve in sight.

So Eddie did what he did best. Channeled that hurt into anger and wrote a song. Never in a million years did he think that, in the very first bar they played at in Indy, they'd meet a man who wanted to take a chance with them and get them a demo. All they needed to do was get from Indy to LA. Eddie had a van and the motivation. The next year of his life was too busy for him to even think, much less worry about Steve and his breakup.

Well, that was a lie. He thought about it constantly and shoved the thoughts aside as quickly as they came. Easier to do when he had no way to check up on Steve. He left Hawkins with no laptop and a pay-per-text flip phone he'd bought at a gas station. Wayne tried his best to provide for Eddie, and that meant they'd had one cell phone between the two, and Eddie had insisted that Wayne keep it.

By the time he got a laptop and internet, Steve had blocked him on Facebook and Twitter. That was the conclusion Eddie had come to when he finally worked up the nerve to swallow his pride and apologize and couldn't find Steve on either platform. Another thing that had filled Eddie with anger and hurt. Steve had broken up with him and then made sure Eddie couldn't reach back out.

Now he wonders, did Steve block him, or did Steve delete his socials to stop the hate mail?

Eddie feels nauseous.

Fuck!

What's worse is that, before the fight, Eddie had been so sure he was in love with Steve. But how can he say that with how quickly he dropped him? With how he's acted ever since? He could justify it to himself when he was still freshly broken up with and hurting but that faded away as fame took over.

Hard to be sad about not having a boyfriend when there were plenty of people lining up to be with him.

He pulls himself from his head to look at the laptop. A new tweet shows on Robin's screen and he scrambled to turn off the auto-refresher.

It's a short tweet, and Eddie sees she's changed her name as well.

Clicking the link takes him to a YouTube video.

It starts with the camera slightly jiggling, presumably from someone hitting record. It's been set up in a recording studio. A stool in front of a mic that's suspended from the ceiling is the only thing in the frame.

"Alright, dingus, last chance to change your mind about this," Robin's voice is picked up from off screen.

"You can't talk me out of this," says a male voice, and without any thought about it, Eddie's hand flings out and slaps the space bar, pausing the video. His heart is pounding, and he has to take a few deep breaths. That was Steve's voice. Of course, it was Steve's voice, it's his statement video, but hearing it again. Hearing it spoken softly but determined.

Swallowing feels difficult. Eddie's last memory of Steve's voice was screaming. This is... this is the Steve he never thought he'd hear again, and hasn't realized how much he desperately wanted to. With shaking hands, he presses play again.

Steve steps into frame, takes a seat on the stool. He looks in the direction of the camera, and Eddie has to pause again, to take him in. His hair is longer than it was in high school, the ends of it touching his shoulders. He's got it pulled up in a half updo, keeping the hair out of his face. His face is familiar and yet so different. He certainly looks older but not in a bad way. The biggest difference is his nose; it's not as straight as it once was, like it's been broken and healed wrong. His strong, square face is as handsome as it ever was, perhaps more so now. Eddie's eyes are drawn to the two moles on his cheek; his eyes have always been drawn there. It was his favorite place to kiss Steve.

He's wearing light wash jeans and a deep blue Henley. And fuck if it doesn't make him look good.

Eddie unpauses again, and waits to hear the retribution he deserves.

"This good, Robin?"

"Yeah, you're perfectly in frame."

"Good. Uhh, hi. I'm Steve. Robin told me that there was a lot of fuss regarding a certain Corroded Coffin song, and that people wanted to hear from me. Which is wild 'cause like, I'm just some guy and I don't really have much to say-" Steve is saying, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Steve!" Robin interrupts him, "I just had to help you move because someone threw a brick through your window! What do-"

"Okay! I get it! But that's not Corroded Coffin's fault. They do that whole anti-bullying thing! It's not like they don't address harassment and bullying. I-" Steve cuts off, seeming to remember he's on camera. His face turns pink. "We can argue this later. Uhh, anyway. There is something I want to say to Eddie Munson, so I hope he's watching."

He makes a 'give it to me' gesture and Robin enters frame, handing him an acoustic guitar. "I thought I'd answer using the one thing Eddie understands best. Music. So, uh, I wrote this song with Robin's help. Lyrics are mine but the melody is Robin. The song doesn't have a title but, uh, okay. Here it goes."

And then, Steve starts to sing, looking down at the guitar for correct finger placement more than singing into the mic but it picks him up well regardless.

"Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me? Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily? Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm, since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane? If someone asked me at the end I'll tell them put me back in it-" Eddie is sitting down, and still he feels the floor fall out from under him.

"-Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah."

Eddie doesn't hear the rest of the song because of the blood pounding in his ears. This can't be- it doesn't mean- after all this time? After everything that's happened, everything Eddie let happen, unintentionally or not.

His phone buzzes against his leg. He ignores it in favor of restarting the video and listening to the video from the start. He listens to the whole song and it ends without anything else. Once Steve's strummed the last chord, he just stands up, walks to the camera and the video ends.

He restarts the video again, and again, and again. Hears Steve sing How could you think I'd scare so easily and I would do it again if I could hold you for a minute and though I know my heart would break I'd tell them put me back in it.

It's through the tenth, or eleventh, playback that his phone buzzes again and he fumbles to answer blindly, unable to pull his eyes away from Steve on the screen of his laptop.

"Gare- It's not- what did I do Gare? Everything I thought Steve would have to say never came close to what he just sang. I can't- I don't know what to do," Eddie sobs into the phone.

There's a pause of silence before what is very much not Gareth's voice says, "Well, dammit Munson. I was calling to rip you a new one but you're already crying."

It takes Eddie a moment to place the voice, "Robin?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Robin says. "I think Steve's let you off easily, but I also know I kick a hornet's nest with my interview so I think we should work on getting this cleared up, both publicly and privately."

"How did you get my num-"

"Gareth. Keep up, Munson. I'd like us to be able to call off each other's fans. Your PR team and whoever you employee to do that anti-bullying campaign have done a pretty good job so far in telling people to back off, politely. Helps that Jeff has been on top of this from the beginning. Honestly, I think the best decision you've ever made in your life was making Jeff the front man of your band and not yourself. He's much more pleasant to talk to, and so good with people."

"Robin!" Eddie has to shout because Robin keeps saying words and they don't make sense. "What?"

He hears a sign from the other end of the phone. "You are annoying. You know that, Munson? I'll work with Gareth to get this done. I think we should be seen together, publicly. Maybe getting a coffee. So everyone knows we've made up, or whatever it is Gareth and I decide is happening. We should also meet up privately. There's a lot to talk about."

"I'm so confused."

"Nothing new. Now, when are you free to get on a plane to Pendleton, Oregon?"

"Pendleton?"

"Munson!" Robin snaps, "we just established that you live in a perpetual state of confusion. Instead of questioning me, how about you answer my questions. Now, when are you free?"

"Anytime."

"Smart answer. Get your ass to Pendleton by the morning of the twenty-third. I'll work with Gareth for all the other concerns. He's easier to deal with."

"Can I ask one follow up question at least!?"

"You just did but I'll allow one more before I hang up."

"Why Pendleton?"

"It's the nearest airport to our destination. I am not having a private conversation with you in California. I don't want to be caught speaking to you until Gareth and I have a chance to work out the details."

And then Robin hangs up.

Eddie leans forward and restarts the video on his laptop before looking up plane tickets. Fixing things with Robin might be the first step in ever getting try and, he doesn't know, apologize to Steve? Maybe even have a conversation one day.

He doesn't deserve that chance, he thinks, but he's a bad enough person to want it anyway.

#steddie #my fic #the interview #the song steve sings is Francesca by Hozier #i dont do taglists so i linked to ao3 where u can subscribe and get updates #i feel like eddies an unreliable narrator so im adding that tag on ao3 #the boy has got NO CLUE what is happening at any point in time ever #hes just a ball of guilt and regret #also i didn't clarify in the fic because i couldn't find a good way to fit it in #but gareth is not an active CC member‚ he's the PR manager #he used to be in the band but quit to finish college and be a family man #Jeff is the front man so he does the interviews/public appearances/etc #Eddie used to but like rockstar life hit him hard and he had to let someone else take that role

853 notes · View notes

snenbubs · 5 months

Note

Hellooo! I would like to make a request for Mammon, please!

I was thinking of a scatter-brained and clumsy (Sloth) imp reader who manages to catch Mammon's attention. I specifically stated that reader is an imp from the Sloth Ring because she sleeps way more than the imps from other rings and one time she ends up falling asleep while sitting with (or rather, on) him. She's more than a bit shy, so the first time that this happens she is mortified when she finds out that she accidentally passed out on him

Also, with being a Sloth-born imp, I think it goes without saying that she is rather quiet and soft-spoken, so being small and not particularly loud makes it hard for Mammon to spot her at times

Thank you for reading! 🩷

I love this! I love sloth-born ocs so so much bcz they are just absolutely so relatable 😭

FOR YOU ANON; HB MAMMON X SLOTH-BORN IMP READER HCS AND A SHORT, BADLY WRITTEN ONESHOT :D becauze im feeling extra productive and the idea of falling asleep on Mammon makes me giggle.

- NOW, Mammon is a man of ACCURACY. Accuracy = money, and he loves money. He expects all his workers to be on time, prepared and ready to give their all to the respective jobs he had given them.

- You, a ditsy and clumsy imp that had been transferred over from the Sloth ring, was not that. You were sluggish, tardy, and wholly unprepared for the intense environment that came with a job under his name.

- Its this that catches his attention, lucky you!

- He didn't like you at first.

- He was ready to just throw you out the front door and hire a replacement, probably from a different ring - like Wrath, they worked hard in Wrath. BUT, he hesitated. He hesitated because he honestly felt a little bad for you.

- Like, he felt really bad for you. He caught you sleeping on the job, a clattered mess of strewn paper and ruffled hair. When rudely awoken, you were meek and quiet. Insistently apologising for your behaviour in such a pathetic, quivering tone that he really just couldn't throw you out. It'd be like taking a blanket from an orphan.

- He let you off with a warning, and kept an eye on you after that point.

- Your promises of better work were ultimately empty though, as nothing changed.

- It truly frustrated him how you were able to outmatch every single demon around you in failing at your job. Yet, aside from a quick scolding every so often from Mammon or some other advisor, you were never actually punished. His frustrations turned to facinations though, and after a while of nothing changing, he was honestly more interested in why you were like this than trying to change anything.

- With this in mind you find it odd that you keep getting promoted despite your lack of work. Additionally, how you keep finding yourself at Mammon's side, allowing him to engage in a mostly one-sided conversation with you.

- Your quiet, and soft-spoken nature attracts Mammon toward you greatly. Its a vast contrast to the personalities normally seen in Hell, and he enjoys the tranquility of your company.

- He can get quite stressed at times so to have you with him is almost like a relief. He knows he can relax around you, because you're always so absent minded and chilled out.

- It can be a nuisance at times though, as he has often lost you to crowds of paparazzi and fans. You just slip away with no sounds, no protests or cries.

- Sometimes he actually just attatches a cobweb to you to stop you from straying too far.

- It can be great fun though, because he's so big and tall you are a lot smaller against him so its easy for you to evade his gaze, you are always able to jump out at him and scare him at the worst possible times.

NOW, ENOUGH TEASING. ONTO THE MAIN COURSE - Falling asleep on him..... bats eyelashes and twirls hair around fingers

The harsh thrum of an engine reverberated through the bitterly silent air like a fish on land, foreign and unwanted. It was a loud sound, invasive to the thoughts of both inhabitants of the slick, dark juniper limousine as it prohibited any sort of conversational utterance.

You and Mammon, the two occupants, sat in a daring silence. Each too fearful to speak over the rough sputter of the vehicle.

Gleaming yellow sceleras, with the blackest of slit pupils gazed outward yearningly, to the side and out of a darkly tinted window. You thought the sky to be quite pretty, a sickly shade of green swirling with pale clouds and smog. The bright surface bled light into the otherwise dark shaking vehicle.

Mammon faced the other way, glaring out with distaste to the polluted domain he ruled over. Though the silence against the limousine was thick, it was not tense, or awkward. Rather there was an oozing warmth and tranquility bestowed between the two of you, allowing the close proximity you shared to remain comfortable and joyous.

It was this tranquility however, that would be your ultimate and metaphorical demise.

With the repetitive swaying of the vehicle, accompanied by an unstirred mechanical buzz and fleshy heat that radiated from the Sin next to you, you were soothed. You couldn't even stop it from happening, one minute you were as alert as an eagle and the next, your eyelids grew heavy. Judging the greenish scenery of the Greed ring came to a halt as your vision was enveloped in a husky gloom. You became groggy, and bleary, and in a feverish dream-like state coiled yourself into the closest thing that provided substantial warmth.

That thing? Mammon.

Upon feeling the slump of your body against his, Mammon tensed. He was torn away from gazing out the window to pore over you curiously, wondering why you had fallen against him so suddenly.

When he found your idle figure against his, limp and unmoving - aside from the gentle rise and fall of your chest with each breath - he quickly realised that you had fallen asleep. Unsure of what to do, he remained frozen for a few moments, cheeks growing hot and flushed with the prolonged contact.

This had never happened before. He'd seen you collapse all the time, falling asleep often spontaneously at work and at events without a care, yet you had never actually fallen asleep so close to him before. It felt... intimate. He was honoured for you to trust him in such a way.

For a few more moments he remained tensed. However, he soon settled with your frame against his, reaching a slow and gentle arm out to wrap against your body and hold you close to him.

For a moment you stirred. Your tail twitched behind you and you lifted yourself just briefly. Mammon oncemore tense, fearing that he had awoken you, and that you would find him clinging to you so sappily. To his relief however, you did not awake. Rather, now clutched closely to his side and secured by his arm, you nuzzled yourself further into his body. Hands intertwining with the fabric of his clothes for emphasis on how comfortable and cosy the situation you were in was.

For once, Mammon found himself to be content and happy. His gaze trailed across your figure longingly, and adoringly - chartreuse eyes gleaming prettily against the darkly lit interior of the sleek limousine, and bathing your figure in a green hue. A fond smile etched its way onto his jagged mouth, and he found himself wishing for moments like this to happen more often.

The tender moment between the two of you was cut short however, when the limousine - which had been speeding through the Greed ring at an alarming rate, screeched across a raised speed-bump without actually slowing down. Such an action rocked the car up and down sharply, making the two of you jump against your seats.

Immediately, you had awoken. Wide eyed and startled, you were shocked to find yourself pressed flush against the warm, clothed flesh of your boss - Mammon, the Sin of Greed. Even more shockingly, being held there by his own hand.

Inch by inch you lifted your head up toward Mammon, the striking yellow of your scelra contrasting against his overwhelming green.

He seemed almost as shocked as you were, glaring down nervously to check if you had awoken. The moment he caught wind of your consciousness he retracted his hand, acting as though he had been burnt from a kettle. Once the limb confining you had moved, you quickly slipped yourself away from the larger man, sliding your body across the black leather seat and cornering yourself against the door to the vehicle.

Mammon disliked the space you had created between them, yet he would never say that aloud.

Totally, and utterly mortified, you dragged a lazy hand across your face.

"Mammon!" You squeaked, voice barely above that of a hushed whisper. Your wide eyes remained glued to his figure, whereas his own now averted away from you, embarassed to showcase his own hottly flushed cheeks. "I am-- so- sorry! I didn't mean--"

"S'okay." Mammon chose to interrupt you before you began to ramble. Through the corner of his gaze he could see you wring your hands together nervously, probably as equally as embarassed as he was to be in such a position.

You gave the Sin a quizzical look, brows cocked curiously and lips pursed thin. "It.. is?" You inquired, sounding almost unsure of yourself. As the initial surprise wore off, you found your tone returning to that of its original laziness.

With an assuring nod of his head, Mammon reached a hand out to pull you closer, effortlessly sliding you across the thick leather seat to be within his proximity once more. You squeaked at the action, however, eventually settled down against him.

"Yeah." He spoke, now more assured as he saw you settled against him again. "And we still have a long journey to go. Best not let one big bump interrupt 'ya snooze."

You gave the sin a coy smile, and within moments the two of you returned to the comfortable position you had been in before. Hopefully this time with no interruptions.

WHEEEY I gotta admit i sorta rushed it toward the end cuz m rlly excited to post this one i loved writing it :D i really hope you like it anon!! Ty for sending in an ask! i appreciate it! i cba to spell check it so if you see anything weird its probably cuz of that

#helluva boss x reader #mammon hb #mammon hb x reader #hb mammon #i love him #mammon helluva boss #hb mammon x reader #i would so live in sloth #its the only place 4 me

316 notes · View notes

adnauseum11 · 2 months

Text

Return to Base (John Price x Reader)

John helps you celebrate your last day of work.

2.2k word (longer one, sorry!)

CW: swearing, mild violence, suggestive themes

Feedback welcome!

Your last day at work comes fast, having only given one week notice. John has unlocked some sort of laissez faire demon inside you, encouraging you to do what you want with little regard for standard procedures. You can’t stomach the idea of sitting through two more weeks of mind-numbing torture, so you simply don’t, your former employer’s opinion on the matter somehow no longer consequential. You haven’t decided yet if John has been a bad influence on your already impulsive nature or just given you the confidence to do what you wanted all along. The idea of being wholly reliant on someone – even if it is John, one of the most reliable people you know – makes your toes curl in anxiety. The last few days of your period become an emotional rollercoaster but John, blessed man, takes it all in stride without so much as blinking twice.

It should come as no surprise to you that your belongings fit into a single banker’s box, but it somehow still does. Cleaning out your desk only takes a fraction of the time you’ve set aside for the task. Your lack of interest in decorating your space ought to have been a clue to your lack of enthusiasm for the job. Co-workers you have maintained tepid friendships with wish you well and eat cake on your behalf at lunch. You are supremely grateful that John can pick you up shortly afterwards, negating your need to navigate public transport - or any further well wishes with an awkward box in your arms. You don’t even manage to summon guilt over not learning the route from the wretched building back to the flat, John never giving you the opportunity. Your decision to quit came hot on the heels of moving in with him, the most tumultuous few days you can remember since your parents died.

When he arrives, even John is taken aback by how little you have to remove from the premises, knowing your penchant for making a space your own.

“This is it? Everything in only one box?” He’s eyeing you as if you’re about to drop the news that there are six more waiting in the lobby just out of sight.

“I know. I didn’t realize until I was packing how little I brought in.”

“Well, let’s be grateful for small mercies I suppose, love.”

John smiles, relieving you of the box and settling it onto the floor of the backseat so it doesn’t slide around. The drive home is far more relaxed than you had anticipated, suddenly no longer wracked with guilt over your choice. The finality of it more freeing than you had imagined. John is in a good mood too and it’s catching you up, so you agree to his suggestion to go to his local pub even though it’s still somewhat early. Your local pub now, too. John parks and you wander down hand in hand in the afternoon sunshine, not bothering to remove your box from the back seat of the car first.

John baits you with a familiar argument about his beloved Liverpool’s trade options before the transfer window and within two pints you are in fine form. You can’t help bickering with him to the amusement of the bartender, any concerns of work long forgotten. The two of you have set up shop at the end of the rail, next to where the waitress punches her orders in, out of the main flow of the room.

“What a waste of money, the man will be injury riddled, mark my words.”

You’re proselytizing, waving off John’s sputtering protests about a potential acquisition. He’s about to list all the goal stats for the player in question again when you cut him off, feeling your alcohol.

“Wanna make a bet? I’ve heard the stats twice now, hot stuff, but I don’t know what the past is going to do for his present - which is babying his ACL until it inevitably tears again.”

“What do you want to bet, love? Better be something you can stand to lose.”

John’s teasing, his arm resting on the bar, his focus mostly on you. He can see down the bar over your shoulder and motions to the bartender for another round when the other man looks to your corner. You bite your lip and smirk, not answering, waiting for his attention to resettle.

It only takes John about three seconds to catch up to the gutter your mind is currently in. His pupils dilate slightly, making his blue eyes look darker in the low pub lights.

“It’s like that, is it, love?” His voice deepens, pitched low for you only.

“Could be, if you want?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course.”

He scoffs, thanking the bartender when he drops the pair of pints by your elbow. You hand one over to the mischievous man perched at at your side, his free hand working its way upwards from your knee.

“What’s a successful season then? Twenty goals?”

“Twenty? How about fifteen?” He counters, and you can’t help but laugh at his lowball offer.

“No, don’t be ridiculous, what will that prove? I’ll meet you in the middle at eighteen.”

“Alright love. Eighteen goals. What do I get when I win? Give it to me in detail.”

His fingers are hooking themselves into the edge of your back pocket, his sharp blue eyes trained on you intently.

You’re about to respond when somewhere further down the bar a glass shatters amid a round of shouting. It startles you and has John’s head jerking up, looking for the source. His palm settles on your upper thigh, keeping you in place as he slides off his stool, standing beside you. The disturbance is soon smoothed over, but John doesn’t return to his seat, hovering at your side instead. You know from prior experience he won’t key down if you stay at the rail of the bar as the volume only seems to be going up inside. The evening crowd is filtering in, younger and louder than either of you these days. You rest your hand on his chest, getting his attention back from the crowd.

“Do you want to go outside and finish these?” You hold up your nearly full pint and John’s nodding before you set it down again. He shrugs into his jacket again and you do the same, slinging your purse over your shoulder after sliding cash under one of the empty pint glasses to settle the tab. You grab your pint and follow John as he cuts a swath through the pub to the heaters set up out front for the smoking crowd.

It's quieter out here and the cool air gives you an excuse to press into John’s solid form. He’s still on edge but doesn’t pull away when you wrap his arm around your shoulders. You drink your pint as you try to ease him back into a conversation.

“What about our bet? You want to shake on it to seal the deal?” You redirect him to your previous conversation, hoping the lure of sexual favours will be enough to lift his mood again. It seemingly works, because he’s squeezing you and bending to press his mouth to your temple.

“Given the nature of the deal, that seems a bit too unfamiliar, don’t you think love?”

“Depends on what we’re shaking I suppose.” You smirk, bumping your elbow into his belly gently, making him chuckle lowly.

“I’d settle for lips if you are insisting on closing this deal here and now.” John answers archly, making you smile into your pint before you shoot him an amused look.

“Mmk, fair.” You raise up on your toes and kiss him, gripping his jacket with your free hand.

John’s lips are warm, in sharp contrast to the cool winter air and you steal a second kiss before releasing your grip on his jacket.

“For luck.” You grin and he swats at your ass lazily, fondness shining in his eyes.

“Cheeky, already cheating, love.” He chastises, his big body blocking most of the other pub goers, huddled outside around the heaters.

You are grateful to be outside in the falling dark, hidden from sight so no one can see you blush at John’s hands on your body. The buzz the alcohol is giving you is blending with the heady arousal his nearness brings, making you giddy and handsy. John’s handling his alcohol better, indulgent with your hands in his shirt and jacket, picking at him.

He relaxes more but he’s still on edge, his eyes constantly roaming. As familiar as you are with John, there are still some sides of him that you don’t see often, and his agitated side is one of them. You aren’t versed enough to know what helps ease him out of it and bite your lip in thought, shifting beside him. Likely getting some distance between yourselves and the increasingly rowdy crowd would be a decent start, you can’t help but think fuzzily.

“Let’s get out of here and finish up the leftovers at home, what do you say hot stuff?”

John brings his attention back to you and tries to hide his smile at your use of ‘home’ to describe his flat. He agrees easily, needing no further convincing and you take a last sip before handing him the nearly empty glass. He finishes off his pint and stacks the glasses, carrying them back to set on the bar for the staff. You turn and wait for him, rocking on your toes in the cold, missing his warmth at your side already.

An arm settles over your shoulders again, but the angle is all wrong, too low against your frame. You jerk your shoulders up to your ears, trying to dislodge the heavy weight of the stranger’s arm.

“Hey!” Your balance is shot from the beer, and you sway unsteadily as you try to get free, pressing into the stranger’s side more closely than you would prefer.

“S’alright babe, just helping you warm up, hey?”

“Get off of me, the fuck do you think you are doing?” You elbow the strange man hard in the ribs and his arm tightens around you, dragging you closer.

“Over here, we’ve got a heater for ya’.” You can smell the booze and cigarettes on his breath, his face way to close to your own. You scrunch up your nose and try to pull out of his orbit.

“I’m here with someone, get off!”

“Ah shame, he’s ditched you, has he? Nice looking bird like yourself ought to have -“

Just as you are debating trying to duck out of his grip backwards, John’s back looking positively thunderous.

“Oi!”

The stranger is suddenly dropping his own pint with a smash as John bends his arm back in a clearly unnatural angle, forcing him to let go of you to stay on his feet as he’s physically moved off.

“Fuck!”

The drunk man yells, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. John forces him onto his tiptoes with his vice-like grip, awkwardly stepping the drunk away from you.

“Fucking hands to yourself, you worthless git.”

John’s tone is black with menace and it straightens your spine with alarm.

“Christ, it’s alright John, I’m alright.”

The last time you saw John’s face so severe was during the break-in, which makes you pause in reaching for his arm to tug him away. Your hands flutter in front of you while you desperately try to get your alcohol-soaked brain to process faster.

“Apologize!” John’s ignoring you, jolting the man’s arm and making him yelp loudly in pain.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean nothing.” He half shouts and the crowd are murmuring, gossiping about what’s going on. You can feel your cheeks flame and bite your lip, anxiously twisting your fingers.

“Alright, it’s alright. We’re good.”

You try a soothing tone of voice, acknowledging the apology for the sake of the man’s elbow joint.

“What a load of shite.”

John shoves the man hard, his arm twisted back and unable to break his fall. He lands hard and heavy on his side, his shoulder at an awkward angle making him cry out. His mates rush forward to help him to his feet, talking over top of each other. You take that as your cue and wrap yourself around John’s arm before he can take a step forward.

“Please John, I’m sick of the police. Come on, let’s go home. He learned his lesson.”

You coax, taking a few steps away onto the sidewalk. He reluctantly follows, and you can feel the tension thrumming through his big frame when his hand wraps around yours.

“I would fucking hope so, the waste of skin.”

John all but spits at the crowd trying to help the drunk man and his injured arm up. None look brave enough to test their mettle against him in defence of their friend, to your silent and sincere thanks. His long strides quickly catch up with you, and then it’s you who has to scurry to keep pace with him on the walk back, his fingers firmly entwined with yours, tugging you along.

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch

Ao3

#fanfic #captain john price #call of duty #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #friends to lovers #john price x f!reader #night out #slice of life #cod fanfic #fanfiction #ao3fic

106 notes · View notes

skzhua · 1 year

Text

Episode four.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: Swearing, mentions of divorce, mentions of deceased parents, arguing. (And Min Ho gets on my nerves in this one.)

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

"You kicked her out?" you yelled as soon as you stepped in your dorm.

Min Ho frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Kitty. I just walked her to her new dormitory. I thought we agreed you wouldn't call Campus Police."

He got up from the couch and approached you close enough so you had to look up at him. "We agreed I wouldn't call Campus Police on you, which I didn't do. You never said anything about Portland Stalker."

"I wouldn't have minded that much but since her new dorm mate is weird as hell, I am concerned."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Then don't be? I don't get why you all worked up on this."

You groaned and left to barricade yourself in your room. First day of school went on even worse than you expected. You were startled when you phone started to ring.

"Y/N! We just wanted to check on you. So, first day?"

The excitement in your aunt's voice made you feel bad for not enjoying as much as you should. They had been trying to get you the scholarship for a while to give you the best scholar environment and you couldn't be ungrateful to them. Especially not when it was all Principal Lim's doing for allowing you to stay there.

"Great. I met up with Yuri and made some friends. Classes seem fun and I like my roommates."

They smiled through the small screen of your phone. "We're happy to hear that. Tomorrow, you have a class with me. I can't wait to see you there." your uncle said excitedly.

"Me too. I'll go to sleep now. Good night!"

"Good night, Y/N! Take care."

After changing into your pyjamas – that were surely too revealing for some people but you didn't care at this point – you went to the bathroom for your night routine. Min Ho was already there, doing his own skin care. While he didn't talk to you, he still stepped aside to leave you some space. Him checking you out didn't go unnoticed by you but you decided to not say anything about it. You brushed your teeth quickly and then proceeded to apply your primer.

"That's mine." Min Ho pointed out.

"It's not, I just brought it with me."

He chuckled. "I don't think you did. This is worth $200 and my mom got it for me."

You observed him take it from you. "You do realize I have money too, right?"

"Because of Principal Lim and Yuri? Yeah." he attempted to mock.

You took the primer back. "Because my rich parents died five years ago."

Stunned, he didn't move for an instant. While satisfied with the reaction you got from him, you began to regret spilling out about your parents. You usually kept it to yourself that even Yuri didn't know what happened.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." he said, his voice now much softer.

"It's fine."

You went back to your room immediately. You didn't want to discuss it any further, nor did you want Min Ho to be pitying you. You needed sleep, and fast.

A week went by pretty quickly. Your uncle taught your history class and you both agreed to not act like family in class, although most of the students knew you were relatives. You bonded closely with Kitty over that week and rarely ever saw Yuri since she was so busy with everything going on in her life. Plus, Kitty was avoiding her as much as possible.

You, yourself, had avoided Min Ho successfully for most part. The only times you really interacted with him were in chemistry class or in the morning where he would always make you a cup of coffee.

You were walking to the library when Kitty intercepted you.

"Help. Me."

Analyzing her appearance, you took in the bags under her eyes and the hairdo that seemed have been done last minute. You held back a laugh and Kitty simply told you you could laugh at her.

"I'm so sorry, but what is this?" you sneered and gesture her whole figure.

"My roommate is the worst human being on this planet. She eats all day, screams at night, throws tissues at me – used tissues – and I have never smelled such a horrid odor. Get me out of there."

"Have you talked to the dormitory advisors?"

"Yes but they said the girls dorm is full."

You smiled apologetically. "Then there's not much you can do, I'm afraid."

She whined. "I hate this."

"You'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

"Says the one who seems to live the perfect life with the guys. How is that going for you?"

You let out a chuckle. "Q is the sweetest and Dae is pretty respectful of my privacy. But then there's freaking Min Ho who can't seem to give me a break."

She squealed. "Oh, Min Ho! I almost forgot about him." she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"You're so annoying." you shook your head in despair.

"I know." she snickered. "Ah, by the way. Remember how Q and I found a baby bracelet?"

"Ah, that."

"I wonder how I can find my half-sibling. Do you think they would want to meet me? Do they know our mom has passed?"

You sighed loudly. "Kitty, I love talking to you but we went over the same questions yesterday."

"Sorry." she said in a small voice. "I'm just really excited."

"I know." you gave her a smile.

"We have a watch party tomorrow evening at your dorm, by the way, if you didn't know."

"I didn't know." you frowned.

"It's normal, I just planned it with Q. You can join us. Min Ho's going to participate."

You faked a smile and walked straight to the library. She really was determined when she had a plan in mind...

Q had begged you to join the Outdoors club. While you weren't one for physical exercise, you did love enjoying nature. So you agreed to go to the first hike at least. When you considered having packed everything you needed, meaning sunscreen and a bottle of water, you went to the living area and just had to listen to Min Ho whine like a child.

"I really don't remember giving permission to Y/N to use my custom blend products. She doesn't even need to use them, she has her own stuff!"

Dae zipped up his bag and ran out the door in a second. "Sorry, man. Got to go." he said quickly before closing the door.

"Thanks, great talk!" he yelled back even though Dae couldn't hear him anymore.

He seemed to not have noticed you were in the living room as he slumped on a stool and took out his phone. He looked at it for a bit and then sighed.

"You're always busy, you're never around." he said out loud before dialing to call someone.

"My darling boy!" a female voice spoke.

"Hi, Mom! You're doing good?" he waved at the phone.

"Yeah, just about to head to set." she informed.

"I miss you."

Your heart warmed up from the cute interaction. You were happy to know he had a great relationship with his mother, which you wished you still had.

"But since you're more important, should I tell them to wait?"

He paused for an instant. "No, it's okay. Let's just talk next time."

"Okay, kisses."

He hummed as the call ended. His head down, he folded his phone and breathed out. He kept the same position and you noticed that his jaw clenched.

"Your mom seems sweet."

He turned to look at you and was suddenly alert of his surroundings. "You heard?"

"Not on purpose, I was getting ready for the hike."

"I see. Yeah, my mom's great."

"That's good." you awkwardly went to the front door and put on your shoes while he stood still at the counter, not having moved much. "See you later, Min Ho."

"See you."

When you joined the group outside, you were surprised to see Kitty already stretching out. You walked up to her and asked what she was doing there.

"Q suggested I joined the club so I can have some time with Dae without Yuri around." she explained. "As friends, you know?"

"That's a good idea, yeah." you nodded in agreement.

Q was quick to arrive and encouraged everyone present to do some stretching beforehand. Dae then arrived as well and was surprised to see Kitty there. He joined her the moment he laid eyes on her and she explained to him that she wanted to stay friends. But it was rapidly ruined when Yuri spawned out of nowhere like a character in a video game. She interrupted their conversation and led Dae away from Kitty.

"Do I really have to hear from Min Ho that you're hanging out with Kitty?" you overheard her say.

Just when you thought the man had some sort of feelings behind his pretty face, he had to pull a move like this. Kitty changed spots and, after sending a glare to Yuri's direction, you moved as well and positioned yourself next to Q.

"Alright, who's ready to go on a hike?"

And Min Ho spawned too, and just right next to you. You were about to question him on his presence but Dae was as perplexed as you were and asked him first.

"What? I can't hang out with my best friends?"

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. If there wasn't anyone else around, you'd definitely be beating the shit out of him. And what annoyed you even more was Madison coming up to him with a flirtatious look on her face. Though he surprised you by not looking so thrilled with her advances. You were thankful that Q started the hike soon later and you stuck with Kitty to avoid having to witness Madison almost drooling over Min Ho. It also allowed Kitty herself to forget about Yuri's presence.

"You guys are making great time. Let's keep with the pace, people!" Q encouraged proudly as you were almost to the top.

Walking behind Yuri, you almost walked into her when she stopped so suddenly and let out a yell. She jumped around trying to get worms off her and Kitty took the opportunity to go see Dae.

"We're in nature, embrace it." Q tried to get some sense into her but she kept on yelling.

"They're just worms, Yuri." you said but in vain, she wasn't hearing you.

"Is it on me? I thought the worm followed me, where is it?" she talked to herself.

"I'm surprised you aren't the one screaming about bugs." Min Ho joked as he joined your side.

You moaned in annoyance. "I'm not talking to you."

"Why not?"

"I think you can answer that yourself." you spat out.

Not looking in front of you properly, you didn't see that Kitty had tripped. Luckily, Dae caught her but as for you, you halted your moves too fast and fell backwards. And again, Min Ho was the one who caught you in time.

"So clumsy." he tsked at you.

You quickly broke away from him and cleared your throat. Meanwhile, Yuri interrupted the duo in front of you and Q went on about safety before walking again. You definitely regretted coming here.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"What question?" you acted clueless.

Min Ho chuckled. "So we're being petty now?"

"I'm always petty with you." you argued.

"You weren't this morning."

You groaned, growing impatient with him. "Can't you leave me alone for a day?"

He didn't know what to respond and you took it as he understood the message. With that being said, you fastened your pace and arrived next to Dae.

"Hey." he smiled at you.

"Not in the mood, just walk."

The poor guy gulped but listened to you and didn't speak to you again. But your hike was halted once again when Kitty and Yuri started to run to the end.

"Just, make sure that you stick together!" Q yelled at them.

"I'm pretty sure they can't hear you." you smiled at him sadly.

"I know." he shrugged.

Min Ho then went to Dae causing you to walk away from them. You hated this, all of it.

"Why did you come?" Dae complained to his friend.

"Because I'm looking out for you, that's why I called Yuri."

"Let me deal with it on my own."

Dae came next to you again, visibly avoiding the man as much as you were.

"So much drama." you heard Madison from behind.

"No one asked." you said loudly for her to hear.

With Kitty running away from the hike, you went on with the watch party without her. After Q set up everything, he sat next to Florian while you sat on the floor to let them have their moment. Focused on the screen, you were disappointed to get interrupted by Min Ho walking out of his room.

"Hey! My mom is in this. She plays the king's second daughter."

"Nice, now shut it." you said rudely but he dismissed your request as Florian asked him about her.

"Does she still act?"

"Oh, yeah. She's absolutely smashing it right now in LA. She's up for a role as a mermaid in the mafia."

"Great, can you go now?" you asked, insistent since you didn't want him to be ruining Q's moment just like he had done with Kitty.

He ignored you again and walked to the couch, asking Florian to scooch over to leave him space to sit.

"Oh, I could give you, guys, the behind-the-scenes dirt on this." he continued and you mentally cursed at him.

"Okay, I love dirt." Florian replied.

He finally shut it for a while and you thanked whoever for it. As per usual, it didn't last long.

"It took that guy twenty takes to nail that."

You threw your head back in disbelief. Was he that clueless to not get a hint? The thousands of glares he got from you and Q weren't enough?"

"Oh, hey, look! It's my mom."

"Oh, wow." Florian commented. "She's gorgeous."

"I know! Thank God I got her bone structure."

"Taking any opportunity to make it about yourself, uh?" you turned to look at him.

The infamous smirk was already there. "Always."

"Wait..." one of the other guys said. "Didn't your mom and dad have that messy divorce?"

"The whole mess was exaggerated to sell magazines." he said in defense right away. "But yeah, they did get divorced."

That part was said which a much calmer tone, it sounded almost sad to you. Determining that it was enough of him ruining Q's evening, you let out a long breath.

"Okay, we get the point." you announced as you got up. "Your mom's an actress, it's great and all but I need to talk with you."

You took him by the arm and forced him up. He tried to stay at his seat but you were stronger than he expected. So he let you forcefully get him off the couch and you dragged him back to his room, not forgetting to close the door.

"Is it the moment that we're supposed to kiss after you reveal you have a crush on me?"

You scoffed. "So you really do think about yourself all the time. I was saving your ass from talking any more about your parents and that's how you thank me?"

He smiled with a knowing look. "So you do care about me."

"I care more about Q. Tonight was for him to make a move on Florian but you couldn't shut it."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?"

You deadpanned at him. "Really? Ah, you're killing me."

"Fine, maybe I did get the message but I'm looking out for my friend."

"Yeah, just like you're looking out for Dae when it's none of your business."

"Y/N, this isn't your business either."

You huffed. "You're damn right it isn't but for some reason, I get dumped with all of it and it's a hassle to carry so many drama when it doesn't even involve me."

"Just go away then!" he snapped at you. "If it's that hard to deal with."

Your jaw clenched as you stayed still, glaring at one another. You scoffed once more and left his room without adding anything else. It took you aback when you heard him follow you. The other guys had already left so only Q remained in the living room. That made arguing less embarrassing.

"Y/N." You stopped and waited for him to continue. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

You went to hide in your room and you heard him sighed in defeat. You didn't know what was up with him today but it only confirmed to you that you wanted nothing to do with him.

taglist: @nanaspalette | @schniti-is-in-the-house | @bakugou-katsukis-wife |@soobin-chois | @honeydewpie

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty min ho x reader #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #sang heon lee x reader

683 notes · View notes

nattysstargirl · 7 months

Text

The Beast of my Dreams

Chapter 5

Word count:3349

TW 18+: fingering, cursing, oral (R receiving) edging, overstimulation, praise, begging (reader calls Nat sir briefly) semi-public sex, Natasha being an adorable butch, possessiveness(brief).

A/N: I want butch Natasha to ruin me 😘

Nat disappeared from the lecture hall before the front half of the room could make it out, and Y/N couldn't find her in the hallway either. She kicks herself for not getting her number. She says goodbye to Peter and heads to the exit. Fridays are half-days, so she's done with classes. Which would be the perfect time to hang out with a hot lesbian. After bracing for the cold, she pushes outside and jogs down the front steps. She technically has homework she should be doing, but her whole consciousness is absorbed with thinking about Natasha. And the way her jaw could cut glass, and her deep green eyes, and—

An arm slinks around her, and panic jumps to her throat as she thinks of the touchy frat boy from last night. Bile burns her chest. But a gentle kiss to her neck from a soft face with no stubble makes her melt. Natasha.

"Hey," she whispers huskily in Y/N's ear.

Y/N giggles like she's in middle school. "Hi."

"Sorry, too much?" Nat releases her and steps into her line of sight. "I guess hooking up once doesn't put us on PDA level."

"It's sooo okay." Y/N takes her hand.

She loves physical affection, and there's something possessive and sweet about it happening in front of people. Nat's shoulders relax, and she smiles. It's a cute smile, unrestrained with all of her teeth. It crinkles her eyes and tugs on her cheeks. Y/N's stomach flips again.

"So, did you want to do something today?" she asks.

"Name it," Nat says.

Y/N pulls her onto the sidewalk, and they head toward the parking lots. She doesn't know where she'll take her, but she's lived here for three years and knows all the cool places. It occurs to her that she's never seen Nat before the stats class and knows literally nothing about her.

"Are you a junior?" she asks. "I've never seen you around campus, but that's definitely not a freshman-level class."

"I, uh...transferred," Nat says. "I'm a junior."

"Transferred from where?"

Nat seems to think it over. "Tiny little community college in my hometown. You wouldn't have heard of it."

"So you're from a land far, far away?"

"Not too far," she says modestly.

"No wonder you're so cool."

Natasha looks at her. "You think I'm cool?"

Y/N balks. "Obviously? You scared away four drunk frat bros, you wear a leather jacket, you made me orgasm harder than I ever have—"

"Oh, did I?" Nat cuts her off. She's smirking hard.

Y/N considers punishing her for her cockiness, but holy shit, does she deserve to be cocky. "Yes," she says simply.

Nat thinks that over. "We barely got started."

Y/N swallows hard. They arrive at the parking lot before she has to answer.

"Which one's yours?" Nat asks.

"It's the blue hatchback." She points, suddenly self-conscious about her fifteen-year-old beater.

What if Nat comes from money and thinks she's lame?

"Cute," is all Nat says.

Y/N walks to the passenger door to unlock it manually. "The button is broken," she explains, opening the door and letting Natasha slide in. "You can just...shove all that aside." But Nat gently lifts the stack of textbooks and papers and props them on the floor behind the driver's seat. She's careful with her feet to not disturb the piles of garbage and belongings. "Sorry, it's kinda messy."

"All good," Nat says with a smile.

Y/N closes the door and hurries to climb in on the driver's side. She cranks Old Navy to life and turns on the heat. "It takes a minute to warm up," she explains.

"No rush here." Nat's head is leaned against the rest, gazing at Y/N. Y/N blushes.

"Do you prefer to be called (your name shortened) or Y/N?" Nat asks.

Y/N tries not to smile. Nat heard Pete call her (y/n/n), and she wondered about it enough to remember through two hours of stats lecture. And she cares enough to ask her about it.

"You can call me anything you want," Y/N says genuinely. That makes Nat smile. Then she turns to the floor at her feet and picks out a plastic grocery bag. She shakes it open and starts filling it with trash.

"You don't have to do that," Y/N says. "I'm going to get it...eventually."

"I'm happy to help." She looks at Y/N. "Really, with anything you need."

Y/N drops her gaze to her hands. "You're really nice to me."

Natasha sits up. "Should I not be?"

"No, I just mean... I don't know, we just met."

"Am I being too much?"

"No! No, I like it. It's just... I'm usually pretty fast to catch feelings. Not that it's happened anytime recently, but..." Y/N puffs out her cheeks. "The affection is one-sided, typically. At least for the most part."

"Are you saying you like me?" Nat asks.

"I really do, and I know that's weird to say, but I always say the weird thing. I feel really...drawn to you. Like I've known you for a long time. That's stupid and cliché, but there it is."

"I don't think it's stupid," Nat says seriously. "I come from...a community that operates like that. We skip a lot of social norms and follow our hearts."

Y/N smiles. "That's really cool. Where are you from again?"

Natasha holds her hands over the vents. "Feels like he's warm. Ready to go?"

"Oh, right, sorry." Y/N hurriedly slams it into drive and pulls out of her parking spot. "Where should we go?"

"Mmm. Bring me to your favorite place off-campus."

"That's easy," she says. She waits in the small line of cars heading out of the parking lot. "Half-day Fridays," she explains to Nat.

"Kids are going home for the weekend."

"I go here," Nat says with a chuckle.

"Right." Y/N blushes.

Natasha's fingers thread through hers, and she pulls Y/N's hand to her mouth to kiss it. Y/N's stomach is never going to sit still with Nat around. It feels like it's training to compete in Olympic-level gymnastics. Nat kisses the inside of her palm, then the pulse point at her wrist, acting pretty casual about being the sexiest and most romantic person alive. Nat drops their hands into her own lap, and Y/N rubs her thumb in circles on her thigh.

"I think I want to call you Y/N," Nat says thoughtfully.

"Yeah?" She nods. "Y/N it is." She peeks at her shyly, but Nat's glare is now pointed out of the window. Y/N follows her line of sight. "What's that?" Three men are hauling an enormous cage out of the back of a truck. It's a long rectangle box of grid metal, with a large solid piece of metal set inside at an angle.

"It's a trap," Nat says. "For the animals, I guess?" Natasha's forehead is crinkled in a hard frown.

"They shouldn't have built a university next to a protected national forest if they weren't ready to deal with animals."

"I'm sure they'll release them safely somewhere else," Y/N offers. They finally make it out of the parking lot and drive in silence to the destination Y/N has in mind.

—

The tension in the car after Nat saw the animal traps fades by the time Y/N pulls into the drive-in theater and parks backwards.

"What's this?" Nat asks, looking curiously at the large projector behind them in the review mirror.

Y/N giggles. "It's a drive-in. You've never been to one?" Nat shakes her head. "Well, they show a movie on that big screen, and you don't have to leave your car. I'll be right back. Wait here." Y/N hops from the car and jogs to the refreshment stand. There are only a few other vehicles for the matinee, so she's the only one in line. She orders a large popcorn, two sweet teas, and a bag of gummy worms. "Thanks!" she says, handing over a twenty to cover the snacks and two tickets.

It's way more affordable than going to an inside theater, which is one reason she loves it. She hurries back to the car. Nat got out and is leaning against the car, watching Y/N return. Her arms are crossed, with one foot propped behind her against the tire. "I told you to wait in the car," Y/N says. She shakes her head. "You just can't follow orders." She was joking, but Nat seems to take it seriously.

"I don't like when I can't see you," Nat says. That stops Ema. She looks at her. "I..." Nat changes the subject, unburdening Y/N of the snacks and one cup.

"So why'd we park backwards?"

Y/N crosses to the back of the Subaru and opens the hatchback with two fingers, balancing her tea on the bumper and leaning inside to drop the backseats forward. There's a stack of thick, folded blankets she keeps on the floor for this very purpose. She unfolds it so it spreads over the flat seats. "Tada!" She flourishes her arms toward the film-viewing hangout spot. "Get in." Nat climbs inside while Y/N fetches the wireless speakers from a charging port nearby. She climbs in too, closing the hatchback behind her, then unlatching the window and hinging it open. She leaves her socks and shoes next to where Nat had dropped hers.

"Now watch this," she says.

Natasha is relaxed against a stack of pillows she found and distributed, one arm tucked behind her head. She sips her tea through the straw. Y/N rips the curtains loose from their holders and slides them over the windows, then pulls them on their trackers to close off light from the windshield, leaving her leaning over Nat. She looks down at her, hands still on the curtains.

"Cozy, right?"

Nat snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her down on top of her. She kisses her mouth gently before pulling away and saying, "Yeah. You're pretty good at making things comfortable. And you're handy, by the looks of that tracker install."

Y/N giggles and rolls off, checking her watch. "Movie starts in seventeen minutes."

"Sounds like plenty of time," Nat says, finding a cupholder for her tea.

"For what?" Y/N asks, excited to play along with any idea Nat might have. "Are you... What's that word? Where people like being caught?"

Y/N's eyes widen. "An exhibitionist?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, I don't think so?" Then she adds quickly, "Are you?"

Because Y/N could be convinced...

Nat smiles. "No. I'm pretty territorial, if I'm being honest."

She leans to close the back window, tugging the curtains together in front of it. Y/N's been with territorial people before, and she didn't love the experience, but the way Nat's acted so far hasn't thrown up any red flags for her. It's all been kind of endearing. Nat moves toward her, and Y/N gulps. She stops on her knees in front of Y/N and shrugs out of her jacket. She lays it carefully to the side, then presses her body between Y/N's legs.

"You're so nice to look at," Nat whispers before kissing her.

Y/N's body reacts immediately, her hands trembling, her hips rising to meet Nat's. It's embarrassing how quickly Natasha can turn her into a pathetic, shivering pile of horniness. Nat moves her lips from Y/N's mouth to her neck, painting slow strokes with her tongue along her pulse before sinking her teeth in. Y/N groans. She wants to tell Nat she can bite her as hard as she wants, but she thinks Nat knows that.

"I like the way you sound," Nat says. "Your voice, and your moans, and the way your breath hitches when I—" She licks her throat again. And Y/N's breath hitches. She feels Nat smile against her skin. Nat kisses her on the mouth, like she's telling her goodbye, before she moves down to Y/N's belly. She pushes her shirt up and runs her nose from her clavicle to her navel, inhaling softly. "I like the way you smell," Nat says. "Can I see how you taste?"

Y/N looks at her, and Nat's watching her face. Y/N just nods enthusiastically. "I need you to say it," Nat says patiently.

"Yes," Y/N says. She nods again.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, you can."

Nat lifts to her elbows, moving away from Y/N's waistband. "Yes, I can what?"

Y/N whimpers. "Please lick me, Nat. I want to feel your mouth on me."

"Lick you where?" Nat whispers.

"Everywhere." Y/N sounds pathetic, but she doesn't mind.

Natasha seems to like it, because she smiles, then unbuttons Y/N's jeans, slowly inching the zipper down before tugging them from her hips. "Good girl," she says.

y/n's breath falters. She spreads her legs, eager to remove any possible barrier to Nat fucking her with her mouth. If she made her see stars—constellations—with just her fingers... But Nat's not in any kind of rush. She rubs her nose from y/n's knee, down the inside of her thigh, then skips over her center to trace back up to her other knee. Then she trails back down with little kisses, y/n holding her breath and arching as she gets closer, then skipping over it and working her way up to the other knee. y/n whimpers quietly, which makes Nat smile and bite her thigh.

"God, you're so hot," y/n mutters, dropping her head back because she suddenly can't support its weight.

"Thank you," Nat says, kissing her way back to the edge of y/n's underwear. Then she licks her, broad and hard, along the panty line of y/n's left thigh. It feels insane. y/n thinks she's going to jump out of her skin and ascend to another plane. Nat hasn't been near her clit, and y/n feels like she could cum on command easily. She thinks of Nat telling her to and shudders.

"Mmmm," is all y/n can say, then her eyes fly open.

Nat is biting her, gently, over her underwear. y/n looks down. Nat drags her bottom teeth from y/n's opening to her clit. y/n knows her mouth is dropped open. Nat does it again. It's rough, but not painful, and y/n feels her pussy responding. It's throbbing, and it's wet. Her panties are already soaked through. Without warning, the teasing is over. Nat pulls the panties off of her and tosses them away, exposing everything. Y/N doesn't feel shy. She drops her knees as wide as they'll go. And Nat's back, swiping her tongue roughly into y/n's folds. It's so abrupt, y/n releases an excited yelp, her hands threading in Nat's short hair to ground her to reality. Her head swims as Nat relentlessly swipes her clit with a hard tongue.

Y/n bucks her hips, grinding against Nat's face. y/n's had sex on E before. And shrooms. Where the world melts away and you meld with another body, and your animalistic urges matter more to you than anyone's opinion, including your roommate who's definitely hearing you scream, and all that matters is the person you're fucking. This is better than that. y/n leaves her body and enters another being that she shares with Nat. It barely registers that she's definitely shaking the car with her thrusts, and that her cries are too loud, and the woman working the snack stand can probably hear her. All that matters is Nat's mouth on her. Nat looks up, sucking y/n's clit between her teeth and grinning like a devil.

"Nat," Y/N whines, gripping the blanket with one hand, the other fisting Nat's hair.

Nat bites her again, with no protection of fabric. It hurts a little, and it's perfect. She knows what she's doing. y/n's body rolls with pleasure.

"Don't cum yet," Nat says.

Y/N shudders. "Yes, sir."

Nat's tongue swipes big strokes, then delves inside of her pussy. It's wide and strong and curls up to pet y/n's G-spot. She didn't know someone could reach that with their tongue. She moans like a porn star, and she's not even trying. She clenches her eyes and focuses on not finishing. Not until Nat tells her to. But God, she's so close. y/n opens her eyes and focuses on the ceiling of her Subaru. Then she bites her lip and slips a hand under her shirt. She pinches her own nipple, hard, hoping that will slow down, but it makes it worse. Pleasure shoots from her tit to her pussy, and it throbs harder.

"God!" she yells. "That feels so good, Nat."

Nat's eyes are on y/n's hand in her shirt. She pulls her tongue out and mutters against y/n's mound, "Keep doing that." y/n does, kneading her tits roughly with both hands now. Nat's eyes go so dark they look fully black. Y/N likes that. She pulls her shirt and sports bra over her head and lays back, fully naked. Nat's mouth moves faster, roughly making out with y/n's pussy.

y/n grabs her tits again, because Nat likes it, and God—she likes it, too. She's so close. She whimpers loudly. "You want to cum, don't you?" Nat asks. Her deep, husky voice muffled by y/n's cunt is even hotter.

"Yes."

"Ask nice."

"Can I cum?" y/n asks between gasps.

"No." Nat smirks and pushes y/n's knees up toward her face. She tongues her from her clit down—past her pussy—to her asshole.

"Oh, my GOD..." y/n's never had her ass eaten. She always thought she wouldn't like it. But Nats's ravaging tongue and lips and teeth put her firmly in the Pro Ass Eating camp. Holy shit. "Please can I cum?" y/n's almost sobbing. "Please, please, please, I'll do anything if you let me come, Nat."

Her mouth temporarily loses contact with y/n. "Good girl," she says. "You learned how to beg so quickly. You can cum, after you count to thirty."

Y/n doesn't ask a single question. "One! Two, three."

"Slower," Nat's voice is muffled again.

y/n grips the edge of the folded seat and bucks her hips. "Four... Five... Six..." She clenches her eyes shut. She's not going to make it. "Seven... Eight..."

Nat pushes three fingers into her pussy and sucks on her clit, hard.

"Oh, my GOD, NATASHA!"

"Count."

"Nine," y/n is actively fighting back tears from overstimulation and pleasure.

"Ten, eleven..." Nat pushes her pinky into y/n's ass.

"Twelve—NAT!" y/n's hips buck hard, crushing against Nat's face, both hands gripping her hair.

An orgasm rips through her, and she loses track of herself. When she comes to, she's flipped them both over, Nat now on her back against the car floor, and y/n fucking Nat's face. She rubs herself in small circles as she comes down from it. Nat's tongue is inside of her, twirling slowly. y/n's legs twitch, and she falls to her side, panting. She's worried she hurt Nat in the rearrangement, but Nat's still grinning like the Cheshire cat as she flips to her hands and knees and crawls to y/n.

Y/N can't move or speak, dazed and silent.

Nat pulls a blanket over her, then lies beside her and spoons her back. She's got a protective arm over y/n as she whispers in her ear. "You're a very good girl. You did so well for your first try." She nibbles at y/n's ear before placing a lingering kiss on her neck. "Next time, let's see if we can get to thirteen."

#g!p natasha #lesbian #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #were hyena!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #Natasha romanoff x reader fluff

164 notes · View notes

canarysage · 3 months

Text

PSDs For Dummies <3

— as written by a dummy

hello dear readers and welcome back to canarysage, the world’s least comprehensive tutorial blog. today, we’re back at it again with photopea for dummies, and we’re tackling something i probably should have done first: psds.

example psds are: 1 (@cutesiplushi) 2 (@didlivio) & 3 (@lumieron)

what is a psd?

excellent question, dear reader! psd stands for photoshop document, and it’s a type of file format (like .png or .gif) that allows you to store a project’s individual layers! it’s a file format that, for obvious reasons, is exclusive to photoshop and photopea.

in editing circles, psd has become shorthand for filter. people use psds to save configurations of adjustment layers that are then used to filter images consistently, without having to remake them every time. when someone posts a psd, they’re posting a folder (hopefully it’s in a folder) with their specific set of adjustment layers for anyone to use!

where can i get psds?

right here on tumblr! check your favorite edit blogs, as they may have posted some, or search ‘free psd’ or ‘psd coloring’ in the search function. tumblr doesn’t allow you to upload psds directly, so you’ll be redirected to a site outside tumblr. probably either deviantart, google drive, or ko-fi, all of which are easy to use. deviantart requires you to have an account to download anything (luckily, an account is free!) and ko-fi may require you to pay money. google drive doesn’t have a search function in and of itself, but it’s extremely easy to download off of.

also, shameless self plug, but i post psds right here on canarysage! i personally use deviantart, but again, an account is free. if send me an ask, i may be able to provide you with a google drive link, if you ask really nicely (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

and of course if you don’t want to use someone else’s psd, you can always make your own.

how do i use a psd?

once you have a psd of your choice downloaded, open up photopea! or photoshop, if you’re rich like that.

once you open photopea, click this here button right in the middle of the screen, the one that says “open from computer”

from there, go to choose files and open up your psd! depending on from whom you got it, psds will look different once you open them. i’m using one of my own as an example.

you can see there’s two layers in my psd, a folder, and an image. the image is just for me so i know which psd this is once i save it—i like to save all my psds with images of real people so i know how it looks on moodboards or stimboards.

the folder is the important part here, that’s where the adjustment layers are contained. to transfer a psd, you can either go to file > new

which lets you start an entirely new project, or you can open an image using file > open

which will give you the image you selected.

as an aside, if you’re opening a psd and you already have a project in progress, make sure to click file > open and not file > open & place, as open & place won’t give you the adjustment layers.

then to move the folder, go to layer > duplicate layer into while having selected the folder (just tap on it, that will make it a lighter gray to show it’s selected) and duplicate the folder into whatever your image is

i’m moving mine to a random image of honami i found which is why it’s named like that. once the folder’s duplicated into your project, go over and take a look!

you should now see something like this! ensure that the folder is on top, as otherwise the adjustment layers won’t work.

here’s the difference between the unfiltered image and the image with my psd!

to save images in photopea (like i did just now) go to file > export as > (your preferred file format)

which will pull up something like this

i recommend either saving as a png (for still images) or as a gif (for… gifs) but that’s up to you! in order to save a psd, go to file > save as psd! that will save your project to your device

bear in mind that tumblr doesn’t accept psds as a file format, so if you’re going to post an edit, you have to save it as something else. also, don’t just save other people’s psds and claim them as your own—psds take a lot of time, effort, and skill, like any other art form.

can i make my own psds?

100% yes! i can’t give you a step-by-step process unfortunately, as there really is no one way to make psds. i recommend familiarizing yourself with adjustment layer and seeing what works.

shameless self plug again, but you can check out my other posts in this series to find out about some of the adjustment layers!

basically, i like to think of adjustment layers as a few different categories. light/darkness adjustments (ie: brightness/contrast, levels, curves, exposure, black & white, and threshold to a certain extent.) saturation adjustments (vibrance, hue/saturation.) color adjustments (hue/saturation, color balance, photo filter, channel mixer, selective color, gradient map depending on how you use it, and replace color.) and also, miscellaneous (posterize, which gives your images a pop-art crunchy kind of effect, invert, which… inverts your colors, and color lookup, which is a set of filters unto itself)

how you utilize adjustment layers is up to you! i personally like to use a variety and see what happens, my personal favorites being channel mixer, photo filter, and hue/saturation. you can also utilize blending modes (shameless self plug again,) or opacity.

if you have no idea where to start, you can look at other people’s psds to see their process. don’t copy or steal, for obvious reasons, but you can toggle layers on and off and see what happens and what each layer does.

making psds isn’t as intimidating as it sounds, you just have to start a project and start creating! it gets really fun once you get the hang of it (*'▽'*)

i don’t edit with photoshop or photopea, can i still use psds?

short answer: nope!

long answer: if you want use psds but you’re super used to ibis paint or whatever you currently use, have no fear! you don’t have to switch all your editing to photopea. you can make your main project in ibis or whatever as normal, then upload it to photopea and add a psd.

you can also make perfectly fine filters in ibis paint in your own right, with enough tweaking. there’s also apps such as polarr and picsart which come with filters, but i’ve never used them so i’m unable to vouch for how they work.

do i need to use psds when editing?

nope! psds are 100% optional. they’re a style like anything else—some people prefer them and some people don’t. it’s up to you.

did you genuinely write 1178 words answering questions no one asked?

yep.

what if i have a question you didn’t answer?

feel free to shoot me an ask! i don’t mind explaining further, and i promise i don’t bite. as with anything, this is just meant to explain to anyone who needs assistance—photopea for dummies by a dummy, after all. we can be confused together!

are you done now?

i am! congratulations for reading this far!

yours truly, canarysage

#photopea for dummies #ʚɞ — tips.

99 notes · View notes

lightlyblooming · 8 months

Text

Caving In

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha visits Reader's apartment and she gives in.

Words: 956

You wished that you had never opened the door.

Natasha stood on the other side of the threshold, highlighted by the yellow glow of the sparse lights that dotted the hallway. Her red hair rested on her shoulders, not a single strand out of place. Her green eyes were clear and bright.

“So?” Natasha prompted, holding up the plastic bag in her hand. The smell of delicious fried food filled the air. “Are you going to let me in?”

You wanted to say no. You wanted to slam the door in her face. She was a page in your life that you wanted to rip out and throw away. Her hair, her eyes, her body, those lips. They were part of a life that you no longer lived, that you never wanted to revisit.

And yet, you found yourself stepping aside.

She entered your apartment and went straight into the kitchen, her deep and rich perfume washing over you as she passed. You sucked on your teeth, reigned in a sigh, then closed the door.

She knew exactly what she was doing. That scent, the warm presence of it, permeated the wall that you had spent the last few months trying to build. It elicited memories of humid evenings huddled in a rundown barn on the side of a rural road, long nights tangled in the silk sheets of a 5-star hotel, hours crouched on the top of a roof in the pouring rain, long evenings of sitting in the dark stitching up deep painful wounds.

You followed Natasha into the dimly-lit kitchen. She pulled two plates out of one of the cupboards then opened a drawer and rummaged through the cutlery you’d thrown into it. She gathered a knife and two forks.

You hadn’t bothered organizing your kitchen. It was the only part of the apartment you hadn’t renovated yet, though it definitely needed it. You doubted it had been touched since the 1960’s. It had pale blue paint that occasionally flaked into your food or drinks and the most horrendous red tile countertops that were so cracked you could hardly tell where one tile ended and another began.

Natasha was wholly unbothered by it. You didn’t think she would be, considering the state of the places you and her had stayed in, but it still came as a slight shock. She suited a Central Park penthouse better than this.

“I heard you were in Paris,” Natasha said as she transferred the food from the containers onto plates.

You crossed your arms and shrugged. “And?”

“You hate Paris.”

“It’s better than Manhattan.”

Natasha hummed and grabbed the plates. She made her way into the living room and sat on the couch, setting the plates onto the coffee table. “Why did you come back so soon?”

You didn’t bother answering; Natasha already knew the answer. The Avengers only let you drift so far and for so long. They wanted you close in case the sky split open again. At least, that’s what they said. You were certain that Natasha had meddled in that agreement more than she admitted. She was, after all, the one that had convinced Tony Stark that you weren’t a threat to America despite very much being one. She had even managed to have him to give you an apartment and a very healthy allowance on top of it.

“Why are you here?” you asked as Natasha started to eat the fries from her plate.

She had her eyes pinned to you as she ate. You steeled yourself and stared right back.

You knew you would give in. You always did. You always let her in, you always gave way to her desires. If she invited you to a hotel or out to drinks at a dive bar, it would only be a matter of time before you caved and agreed, no matter how hard you fought against it.

You didn’t even know why you tried to resist anymore. At first it was a way to separate your past life from this one, then it was punishment for all you had done. You had caused so much pain, so much suffering. You had dedicated your life to repenting for all you had done. You did whatever the Avengers asked of you, volunteered at soup kitchens, donated what extra money you had.

Now, you had settled into a life sequestered away in your apartment, renovating the same rooms over and over again. When you weren’t stuck painting or decorating or polishing your floors, you were in high-end boutiques and designer stores, spending that very generous allowance on fine clothes and handbags.

Yet not even a fifty-thousand-dollar Hermès bag could ease your pain. Not in the way Natasha did.

Natasha finished her mouthful and patted the couch beside her. “Eat before your food gets cold.”

You opened your mouth, ready to find an excuse, and then she smiled. Her warm, radiant smile. The smile that washed away your worries again and again. The smile that reminded you that the world wasn’t all sharp edges and cold blades. The smile that filled your empty chest with passion.

You let out a breath and allowed your arms to fall to your side. You took in a deep breath, steadied yourself, then settled onto the couch.

“I thought you were supposed to be in Denver,” you said and picked up your plate.

“I leave in the morning,” Natasha said. “I wanted to see you before I left.”

You couldn’t help the smile that sprouted on your lips. You hid it by taking a bite of food, but that did nothing to hide the blush that crept along your cheeks when Natasha placed her hand on your thigh.

#natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff #avengers #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #avengers fic #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff fanfic

241 notes · View notes

xtruss · 8 months

Text

Native Tribe To Get Back Land 160 Years After Largest Mass Hanging In US History

Upper Sioux Agency state park in Minnesota, where bodies of those killed after US-Dakota war are buried, to be transferred

— Associated Press | Sunday 3 September, 2023

The Upper Sioux Agency State Park near Granite Falls, Minnesota. Photograph: Trisha Ahmed/AP

Golden prairies and winding rivers of a Minnesota state park also hold the secret burial sites of Dakota people who died as the United States failed to fulfill treaties with Native Americans more than a century ago. Now their descendants are getting the land back.

The state is taking the rare step of transferring the park with a fraught history back to a Dakota tribe, trying to make amends for events that led to a war and the largest mass hanging in US history.

“It’s a place of holocaust. Our people starved to death there,” said Kevin Jensvold, chairman of the Upper Sioux Community, a small tribe with about 550 members just outside the park.

The Upper Sioux Agency state park in south-western Minnesota spans a little more than 2 sq miles (about 5 sq km) and includes the ruins of a federal complex where officers withheld supplies from Dakota people, leading to starvation and deaths.

Decades of tension exploded into the US-Dakota war of 1862 between settler-colonists and a faction of Dakota people, according to the Minnesota Historical Society. After the US won the war, the government hanged more people than in any other execution in the nation. A memorial honors the 38 Dakota men killed in Mankato, 110 miles (177km) from the park.

Jensvold said he has spent 18 years asking the state to return the park to his tribe. He began when a tribal elder told him it was unjust Dakota people at the time needed to pay a state fee for each visit to the graves of their ancestors there.

Native American tribe in Maine buys back Island taken 160 years ago! The Passamaquoddy’s purchase of Pine Island for $355,000 is the latest in a series of successful ‘land back’ campaigns for indigenous people in the US. Pine Island. Photograph: Courtesy the writer, Alice Hutton. Friday 4 June, 2021

Lawmakers finally authorized the transfer this year when Democrats took control of the house, senate and governor’s office for the first time in nearly a decade, said State Senator Mary Kunesh, a Democrat and descendant of the Standing Rock Nation.

Tribes speaking out about injustices have helped more people understand how lands were taken and treaties were often not upheld, Kunesh said, adding that people seem more interested now in “doing the right thing and getting lands back to tribes”.

But the transfer also would mean fewer tourists and less money for the nearby town of Granite Falls, said Mayor Dave Smiglewski. He and other opponents say recreational land and historic sites should be publicly owned, not given to a few people, though lawmakers set aside funding for the state to buy land to replace losses in the transfer.

The park is dotted with hiking trails, campsites, picnic tables, fishing access, snowmobiling and horseback riding routes and tall grasses with wildflowers that dance in hot summer winds.

“People that want to make things right with history’s injustices are compelled often to support action like this without thinking about other ramifications,” Smiglewski said. “A number, if not a majority, of state parks have similar sacred meaning to Indigenous tribes. So where would it stop?”

In recent years, some tribes in the US, Canada and Australia have gotten their rights to ancestral lands restored with the growth of the Land Back movement, which seeks to return lands to Indigenous people.

‘It’s a powerful feeling’: the Indigenous American tribe helping to bring back buffalo 🦬! Matt Krupnick in Wolakota Buffalo Range, South Dakota. Sunday 20 February, 2022. The Wolakota Buffalo Range in South Dakota has swelled to 750 bison with a goal of reaching 1,200. Photograph: Matt Krupnick

A National Park has never been transferred from the US government to a tribal nation, but a handful are Co-managed with Tribes, including Grand Portage National Nonument in northern Minnesota, Canyon de Chelly National Monument in Arizona and Glacier Bay National Park in Alaska, Jenny Anzelmo-Sarles of the National Park Service said.

This will be the first time Minnesota transfers a state park to a Native American community, said Ann Pierce, director of Minnesota State Parks and trails at the natural resources department.

Minnesota’s transfer, expected to take years to finish, is tucked into several large bills covering several issues. The bills allocate more than $6m to facilitate the transfer by 2033. The money can be used to buy land with recreational opportunities and pay for appraisals, road and bridge demolition and other engineering.

Chris Swedzinski and Gary Dahms, the Republican lawmakers representing the portion of the state encompassing the park, declined through their aides to comment about their stances on the transfer.

— The Guardian USA

259 notes · View notes