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shadowxamyweek · 18 days

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What The Fuck Do You Mean They Gave Amy Rose an Eating Disorder

Alright. I said I’d talk about why I think Amy has an eating disorder, and so here I am, ready to throw down.

Disclaimer!

Let me explicitly say- there’s nothing wrong with exercise and there’s nothing wrong with going on a diet. Not intrinsically, anyway. If you’re being smart and healthy about it, you’ve got good people supporting you or you’ve got your own good mental supports to make sure you’re not hurting yourself, that’s awesome. I am not saying these things are evil. What I am saying is there exists a very dark and obsessive undercurrent to *any* sort of health choice due to cultural expectations that, if a person is not careful about, they can get sucked into.

Trigger warnings!

This is very 'Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.' We're gonna be talking about eating disorders and self harm. It's right here on the tin. If you don't think you're gonna be okay reading this, then don't. I want you to be safe. I believe I've tagged this appropriately, but if I've missed something, please let me know.

What even is an eating disorder?

Broadly speaking, it is any behavioral condition characterized by abnormal eating habits. Some eating disorders stem from physical difficulty with eating that becomes psychological, while others originate due to psychological issues themselves. There are eating disorders that occur because people just wish to be in control of something, those that originate due to side effects of medication, those that occur due to side effects of other psychological conditions like anxiety or depression.

This is to say- not all eating disorders are due to an obsession with body image.

However, it cannot be understated just how many people develop an eating disorder because they are obsessed with body image.

I am of the opinion Amy falls into the latter category, that she is obsessed with body image and, due to that, has an eating disorder.

So what’s going on with Amy?

Let’s look at Sonic Battle (2003). It’s a PVP fighting game for the Game Boy Advance, picking up the plot directly after Sonic Heros and introducing us to Ermel (who would die and come back as Germel). Much like the previous games, you would have a singular plot that was divided into sections. We will be focusing on Amy and Cream’s chapters within the story.

Amy Rose (X)

Cream (X)

Battle is what introduces us to Amy’s boxercising. Originally, she started it to get stronger, Cream citing Amy’s desire to keep Ermel safe after briefly getting kidnapped. However, once she realizes she can lose weight via this method, she becomes obsessed. Cream talks about it, seeming visibly uncomfortable with Amy’s fixation on losing weight, but we don’t really get much in the way of details until we actually fight Amy and see this weightloss obsession in action.

In the Amy chapter of the story, she takes Ermel back to her apartment to train. They set a goal of 5 KOs, then 10. Amy feels faint, citing lightheadedness. Ermel leaves her alone in her apartment.

The next time you see her, only a few moments later, Cream is there. Turns out Amy was so lightheaded she had to go for a liedown. Cream says she’s worried about Amy. Specifically, she says she’s ‘burnt out,’ from overworking herself. Amy promptly comes back from her short break, stumbling into the room, to which Cream exclaims they can’t keep going because Amy can’t walk straight. Amy tells Cream she’s fine, and proceeds to start another goal of 10 KOs.

After that, Amy wants to keep working out, but she’s reaching her limit. She’s unable to speak more than a word or two without gasping for air. Insisting she can keep exercising, she tries to excuse herself to ‘change tactics’. When Cream follows her, it’s revealed that Amy’s been wearing excessively heavy weights on her arms and legs during this entire training spree.

Amy says to go for another goal of 10 KOs. Cream, visibly upset, says that Amy has lost her focus on training. Still, you fight her anyway.

After this, Amy collapses.

She is able to pull herself together after a second, rushing off with Ermel to keep fighting in search of the Chaos Emeralds. Cream seems relieved that Amy’s alright, saying, ‘she’s the strongest woman I know.’

The relief does not last long. After you finish Amy’s chapter, you switch to Cream’s. It opens up post boxcercise with Amy congratulating Ermel on getting strong. Cream noticeably stays very quiet during the exchange.

Then, Amy asks, ‘how much did I lose today?’

Ermel tells her that she’s burned 1000 calories during their workout session. If she wants, she can lose a kilo/2 pounds-ish per three days if she is able to keep this up, but she will have to eat only 700 calories a day max and drink 4 liters/ 1 gallon-ish of water a day. Amy gets very excited. She also says she’s going to purchase some ‘super diet-machine.’ to further her progress. She thanks Ermel for helping her get closer to her goal.

After a bit of a back and forth, Cream says to Ermel that Amy is really getting into this dieting. When Ermel asks, ‘Is getting thin good?’ Cream explains that Amy wants to be thinner so that Sonic might like her back. Ermel, understandably, doesn’t get it. Cream replies that, sometimes, a person will do anything for someone they love. Ermel stays silent, and Cream says that one day, they may eventually understand.

(I swear there’s an additional dialog option if you go back to Amy’s place to talk to her where Ermel suggests she eat nothing but lettuce leaves, but I have misplaced my own copy of the game and cannot verify this. As such, I am not going to use it as evidence, but I do ask that if anyone DOES have the game, fact-check me on this place. I’d like to know if my memory is correct or if this is just a fabrication due to… everything mentioned above.)

So okay, that’s the beats of the story. Now let’s talk about dangerous exercise and diet culture:

Exercise and Eating Disorders

Boxercise feels like a direct parallel to stuff like Jazzercise (60s-80s) or Zumba (00s-10s), which is just normal exercise with a twist of some sort that make it palatable for mass engagement/marketing. These different fun and exciting methods (and they can be- they can be fun- I’m not even gonna lie.) of workout were often sold as methods of both gaining strength and losing weight, but the losing weight often becomes their focus. This game even calls out the ‘this will make me stronger’ to ‘this will make me thin and desirable’ mental pipeline that can happen in the culture surrounding these sorts of exercise methods, unfortunately fostered despite whatever intentions their creators or individualized mentors had. There is nothing wrong with any of these styles of exercise. However, overexercise can be a hallmark of an eating disorder, and a culture of obsession that can surround fad exercises promoting extreme weightloss is dangerous. (X) (X)

It’s not new. The culture around these fad exercise methods might create a special sort of vortex, but look closely, and you'll likely pick up a few people with the same mindset at any old gym. ‘If I just keep pushing, if I just keep going, if I ignore the pain, I’ll be who I want to be.’ That’s how people get permanent injury, from Jannet going way too hard at pilates to Keith pushing far too much weight.

Speaking of weights- We are lead to believe that Amy has been wearing weights this entire time. I don’t just mean for the fight mentioned above. Think about it- she takes them off during that massive workout/fight, but when did she put them on? We don’t see it. We’ve been with her nearly the entire time. This reads to me that she has had them on the entire day, not just for her exercising.

It should be noted that wearing weights in this manner for an extended period of time can lead to damage (X) . As an aside, I have found no studies on the matter, but at least half of the people I know who have also had an eating disorder at one point or another intentionally weighed themselves down in some manner thinking they could burn more calories by doing whatever it was they were doing. This includes wearing training weights all the time, overfilling backpacks and carrying them around, and other things.

It’s not the exercise that is bad, it’s not the method that is bad, it’s not most of the community that is bad, but there is (and has always been, and will always be, unfortunately) a portion of it with this dangerous mindset that a person can get sucked into if they are not careful.

Due to the evidence above, it seems clear to me that Amy has gotten sucked into this mindset.

That’s just a part of it though. The restricted eating is where it gets really solidified for me.

Diet Culture and Eating Disorders

Now, obviously I’m going to be going off of human numbers, so if you wish to counterargue that ‘oh well they’re smaller/different species of course they’d need less calories’ that’s fine- feel free to do so- but just understand I personally don’t think the text was written with that sort of calculation in mind.

The average human body, even if it is a body largely at rest, needs about 2,000 calories a day to help maintain good health (X) (PLEASE ignore BMI it's a bullshit method of measurement). Various fad diets or crazes have come and gone across the centuries, with focuses on trying to achieve whatever body type was popular in that moment.

‘This will make you sexy. This will make you wanted. This will finally make someone love you. Before, you were unlovable. After, maybe you’ll have a real chance.’

Noticeably, in the fad diets of the 90s into today, the focus for a lot of people attempting to lose weight has been ‘restrict your caloric intake.’ That’s not a problem until you start cutting out foods with nutrients the body needs to survive and/or getting to under a 1,000 calories a day (X).

Despite what a lot of popular caloric or generalized eating restriction diets will tell you, if you keep your body from energy, it will go into protection mode. Protection mode is where your body acts like it is starving, because it is, thus slowing down its stash of burnable energy. Your average caloric burn then DROPS. This causes it to become harder and harder to lose weight the longer you starve yourself, which creates a vicious cycle.

Furthermore, if you are both working out and dieting, you need good caloric intake when working out in order to help facilitate building muscle. If you don’t eat properly while working out, you don’t build the muscle you should and, in fact, you can lose muscle or cause permanent damage since your muscles won’t have the tools/energy to repair themselves after workouts.

Crash diets/workouts like this are also not sustainable. There have been dozens of studies on how losing weight too quickly can be bad for the body, but beyond that, the mental tax of trying to maintain a non-maintainable lifestyle of limited eating/ overworkout often ends in a massive rebound (a rubber-banding if you wanna call it that) due to lethargy or mental fatigue (not helped by the lack of food.). That plus a brutalized metabolism will cause people to gain the weight they lost back, make it more difficult to lose, and might ultimately result in the person gaining more weight than they had previously. Again- vicious cycle. (X)

But the dieting industry, the diet culture doesn’t really care about that. It largely doesn’t care if its product or concept or whatever hurts you. Its job is to make money.

Because here’s the thing- Most people have a part of themselves, however small, that would love to change. Most people would like to be liked, to be needed, to be desired in some capacity. Due to this, a person's self worth is often tied up in some part of themself, often something that is visual, often something that, if given the opportunity, they’d change.

How does continued hunger relate to mood?

The concept of being ‘hangry’ is pretty well known. (X). Be hungry long enough, you get physically unwell, and you can unlock a special sort of anger that only comes with being hungry.

Not just that, but being hungry for extended periods of time can also cause issues with mental clarity (X).

It goes just beyond hangry though. Food and nutrition have long been understood to affect mood and mental well being, though not to the scientific degree able to be achieved today (X) . To summarize as simply as possible- your gut biome, which is dictated largely by your diet, directly impacts mental and physical wellbing. If your gut biome is maintained as it should be, then you overall will have a healthier mental state and overall feel better. If your gut biome is poor, due to undereating or lack of intake of needed nutrients, your biome will start to wither. This will directly impact your mental and physical wellbeing. (X)

I’m not going to dwell on this for terribly long, but I want to bring it up in correlation with the previous two sections because who amongst the Sonic crew is often labeled as being emotionally unstable and prone to moodswings?

Amy Rose.

Who is often fingered as having outbursts of volatile anger?

Amy Rose.

And who do we see starving themselves in game and working themselves past the point of exhaustion?

Amy Rose.

Listen, I confess this one is a bit of a stretch. It’s more of a continuation from the two other points that I sort of wanted to point out. If you can understand the previous arguments for her overworking and underfeeding herself, then this one feels like a natural third component in that and, as such, I felt it should be at least mentioned.

What I Personally Have Seen in Regards to Eating Disorders in Media while Growing Up.

Thank goodness so much has changed. I remember eating disorders taking up whole episodes in television series, whole issues in comics, whole books in novel series, and it has largely evaporated. The problem is still around, because of course it is, but it is far less of a joke now than it use to be.

When I was growing up, there were a lot- and I mean a lot- of stories that said, ‘Oh, if you were just a little better, someone would love you. Someone will notice you. If you were prettier, cooler, thinner, buffer, whatever- people would notice you. Someone would love you. Maybe even that specific person you wish could love you back.’

‘If you just tried a little harder, maybe it’ll happen.’

And you saw this in the real world, in the marketing, in the fashion, everywhere. Advertisements pushed that if you didn’t fit this very specific, narrow, palatable concept of beauty, then you weren’t worth anyone’s time.

When this was portrayed in media, it often manifested directly into characters doing insane things to change themselves. Sometimes it was their style of dress, or their personality. Oftentimes, it would manifest in them trying to get buff or be thin.

With a lot of stories, the character often came to the conclusion of, ‘Hey, just be you. You’re good as you- don’t do things to impress other people. Don’t be who you’re not because you feel you have to.’

But it was a coinflip as to whether or not the story would prove that to be wrong or true.

Worse still, even if the lesson was still ‘just be you,’ the whole ordeal was often portrayed as a joke.

Specifically, women- girls- working out to exhaustion, starving themselves, was portrayed as a joke.

If the goal of the story was for comedy, and the end had the character revert back to who they were previously, it can usually be put into one of two categories:

‘How could you be so stupid? How could you believe you ever needed to change? How dumb are you to fall for social pressure like that?’

or-

‘How could you be so stupid? How could you believe you could change? You’re not strong enough to change. You’re too you to ever be liked.’

On that note, let’s back up and return to Amy.

I’m the sort of person that’s got a narrow focus when it comes to Sonic properties. Specifically, if it’s not game canon, it’s not canon to me.

However, in understanding that other canons exist, other properties within the Sonic universe exist, I won’t ignore them. Even if I don’t think they’re canon, if there is a throughline within, I cannot help but to notice.

So it’s with this in mind that I ask you: Do you know of Sonic Spin and Dash?

It’s a manga. Put out in the early 00’s, it was a little series of comics that focused on Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Shadow, and Eggman having arbitrary interactions. They’re largely cute and lighthearted. I couldn’t tell you officially what the official age demographic would be for them, but I’d have to guess something fairly young.

Volume 6 is titled, ‘A Maiden's High-Tech Diet.’ In it, Amy freaks out about having gained 3 kilos/ about 7 pounds. Despite the fact that she’s a growing girl, this deeply upsets her. She asks Tails and Sonic not to eat (in front of her? At all? Unsure.) while she’s trying to diet. Eggman shows up and offers her a solution- a diet machine that will help her achieve the weight and look she wants so deeply. 3 days later, Amy approaches Sonic again.

She’s emaciated. Wobbling in from off-stage, unable to even speak a sentence without pausing, she asks Sonic if she’s looking thinner.

Let me rephrase- she’s asking if she looks ‘thin enough’.

Eggman, via his dieting ‘robot’ which really is just a mech he’s hiding inside, asks Amy and co. to perform more insane tasks to weaken them and cause them to be too exhausted to fight him. However, even during this, Amy has other ‘slimming’ products that she’s bought which she uses to defeat Eggman.

In the end, everyone exhausts Eggman, causing him to give up his scheme and leave. By the end of all of it, he himself is looking thin, having worked off much of his weight in this charade.

It’s just played off as a joke.

Alright, but that was early 00’s. How’s Sega been about Amy now?

Well, this hasn’t really come up in games again, thank goodness. I reiterate- times have changed, and I’m very glad about that. That doesn’t mean this sort of thing is entirely gone, however. This image is from Sonic Channel in 2022 (X).

The image is accompanied by this caption:

---

“Otome Straight!” Emmy is passionate about boxercise , saying it's perfect for dieting

Indoor training on rainy days is perfect! Bouncing the punching bag and working up a good sweat with Emel's support

"Mom, do your best. Ato Sukoshi."

Let's keep a healthy body with training for the rainy season !

---

Once again, we have this focus on dieting and food reduction. Again, not a bad thing- perfectly normal- but the reason I take pause is because of the crossed out icecream picture.

@mysuperlaserpiss - I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to bring up your comment on that initial post I put out.

…Yeah. Yeah, I 100% agree.

So when conversations around eating disorders comes up, one of the first things to discuss is, ‘what is your relationship to food?’ Essentially, it boils down to: do you see food as fuel and that it is a normal thing to have, or do you see it is something you have to earn/avoid? (X)

Amy beating the shit out of a punching bag sporting a crossed out picture of icecream, talking about dieting, smacks of, ‘you see food as something you have to earn/avoid,’ to me. It’s as simple as that. This appears as though she’s beating the desire for certain foods out of herself. Simply put, that’s not healthy.

Okay, so what?

Man, I don’t know.

I don’t know, alright? I don’t know.

I’m biased. I was inundated with the idea of ‘you need to be better’ from a young age from all angles. I am strong, but not appealingly buff. I am not what I'd call heavy, but I'm most certainly not appealingly slim and doctors have always bitched about my BMI (which again- terrible system to work off of). Not that long ago, I was hiding weights under my pant legs even in the dead of summer thinking the extra weight on me when I moved about my day would help me burn calories. Not that long ago, I was walking around 30km/18 miles a week on top of doing several hours of intense exercise a week, all while only taking in around only 500 cal a day. I am constantly combating the idea that i need to deserve to eat, but if I eat, I won’t be loveable. Yeah, I’m doing better- significantly so- but I am a biased, untrustworthy source to write about this and I recognize that. I am biased because I’ve been through it. I am biased because I have lived this very specific, isolating nightmare, and no matter how much better I am now, there are still days where all I can manage is a couple hard boiled eggs and maybe canned low-sodium fish.

I don’t know what to tell you. All I know is what I’ve been through, and when I look at Amy, when I look at her storylines through the games, I see a portion of me that I never would ever want to see in anyone else.

I see someone desperate to be wanted. I see someone disoriented and angry from lack of food. I see someone hurting themselves thinking it's normal to do so. I see someone trying and trying and trying so hard to fit this idea of ‘perfect’ and falling short.

There’s a lot of conversation right now around Amy’s character. How she was presented in early games vs now is significantly different, so of course it would be a subject of conversation. Sega seems to be trying to bring the characters into a new age, both in terms of the 2020’s and in terms of the characters' age themselves. There are those that say that Amy’s new presentation is due to her becoming older and more mature, while others argue that she’s become a shadow of her former self.

I can see both sides of the argument. Of course I can- I’ve been with this characters since almost the beginning. Still, when I look at the changes in Amy Rose, when I look at how happy she is, how energetic and content, my knee-jerk reaction isn’t to start wagging fingers.

It’s just, ‘Ah. Good. She’s eating.’

#amy rose #eating disorders #tw // ed #tw // eating disorder #tw // self harm #headcanon #*drags hands down face* I'm glad I finally got to write this- I've been wanting to write this for a long time- but wow I feel sick

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psychhound · 3 months

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[ID: a banner that reads "immigration sale" in large light letters, with "8 games 40 - 60% off" in smaller light text. the background is a home's porch with a rocking chair, with a light brown translucent text box over it. end ID]

HEY YALL I'M DOING A SALE

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the sale includes some big games!! if youve seen my sales before, you'll be familiar with:

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some BRAND NEW GAMES that have NOT been on sale before are:

shadow/giant: a duet game where one player is a gruff, jaded adult and the other player is the magical child now under their care

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with breath & sword: a solo journaling game where you gear up and fight monsters in order to calm down from real-life anxiety, using grounding methods and breathing techniques

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#indie ttrpgs #solo journaling game #multiplayer games #itch sale #SPREADING THE WORD SOOOO APPRECIATED THANKS YALL

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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 4 months

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Day 19: "Please Don't" / Adrenaline Crash

@febuwhump prompt: "Please Don't" @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Adrenaline Crash

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Omega, Wrecker, Tech, Echo (Did you read Day 5: Rope Burns / Bound & Gagged and Day 12: Semi-Conscious / Over-the-Shoulder Carry? This is a continuation! Follow the links above to catch up on the story so far) Word Count: ~3005 Click here to read on AO3 Also available in Russian (with thanks to @tech-o-mania for the amazing translation!)

Synopsis: Hunter loses control as he hunts down the mercenaries who captured and injured Omega.

Art by the awesome @collophora of my gorgeous Feral Hunter! Thank you so much for this beautiful pic and letting me post it with my fic, everyone go view collophora's original post HERE and tell them how great they are! <3

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Omega swings her legs as she sits on the edge of the table, watching as Tech methodically extracts embedded strands of hessian from the wound on her left wrist. Her right is already swathed in bandages, the bacta gel bringing a soothing numbness that dulls the pulsing pain to a background throb.

She draws her breath in as a hiss though her teeth at a particularly painful pull, and Tech glances at her to check she is okay. He doesn’t continue until she nods to give him permission to do so.

The com at the engineer’s wrist crackles to life. “Come in, Tech.” It is Wrecker’s voice, low and urgent.

Tech pauses his ministrations to answer the com. “What is it, Wrecker?”

“I need backup.”

The big clone’s voice over the com is deadly serious, none of his usual joviality.

“What is your status?” asks Tech, his voice taking on a more clipped edge.

“It’s Hunter.”

Tech quickly looks up at Echo, and Omega doesn’t miss the alarmed look that passes between them.

“Will you and Omega be alright by yourselves?” Tech asks, putting the tweezers back in the medkit and standing.

Echo nods, resting a hand on Omega’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about us. Go help Wrecker.”

“Help Wrecker with what?” asks Omega, getting to her feet and looking first at Tech, then Echo. “Are they in trouble?”

“You are still in need of treatment,” says Echo firmly, trying for a smile which comes out too tense to be reassuring. “I’m sure Tech will manage without us.” He gestures back to the table. “Sit back up, and I’ll finish your wrists.”

Tech is gathering his equipment, and Omega leans past Echo to see him set his pistol to stun.

“I want to go with Tech,” she protests softly. “I want to check that Hunter and Wrecker are okay.”

Echo and Tech exchange another look. Omega is getting pretty tired of the unspoken conversations they share with their eyes.

“Finish attending to Omega’s wounds,” says Tech eventually. “Then you may follow… carefully.”

Hunter’s pistol is in his left hand, balanced on his forearm which is crossed in front of his body, vibroknife held blade outwards. The hum of adrenaline is in his veins, pulse pounding, slowly building to a tense knot of pain at the base of his skull which will surely become a migraine later.

Two more mercenaries up ahead, just out of sight. He can hear them.

Hunter doesn’t have to think about softening his footfalls. The predator’s stealth comes naturally to him.

In moments he is around the corner and the two men are ten paces ahead, weapons out as they scout the corridor.

They don’t know that death shadows their movements.

In his ear, the com pings. Hunter shakes his head, shutting it off irritably. Not now. Whatever his brothers want, it can wait.

He rolls to his toes, picking up speed. Closes the gap in a sprint.

One shot with his pistol. The laser-burn eats through the first man’s skull. The second turns but Hunter is on him, and the vibroknife tears out his throat before he can cry for help.

Hunter pauses for a moment, surveys his work. That makes four of them he has eliminated now. Four of them who harmed his Omega. Four of them who will never threaten her again.

A high-pitched whine, like tinnitus, sets up in his head. He pulls his helmet off, rubbing his ears, trying to chase away the source of the sound.

His helmet is dropped to the floor, forgotten, as he sets off to find the rest of his quarries.

Tech tilts his datapad towards Wrecker. “I have picked up the bounty hunters’ com channel. They seem concerned that they cannot raise a number of their companions.”

Wrecker looks up from fitting binders to the two mercenaries he has captured. “Hunter won’t waste any time,” he says gruffly.

“He may have deactivated his com, but I can still track his locator beacon,” says Tech. “Leave these two here. We must catch up to Hunter as soon as we can.”

Hunter crouches on the narrow gangway, watching the knot of mercenaries in the hangar below. Five left. Their conversation drifts to him but it is just noise. He can’t make his head understand the words.

It doesn’t matter what they are saying. Hunter will be among them soon, and their words will give way to screams and then they will be dead. He plans to make sure of that.

The migraine closes its vice-like grip on his consciousness and Hunter pulls his bandana off, trying to ease the pressure at his temples. A faint aurora halos his vision, sparkling in the periphery. His back teeth ache.

He creeps along the perforated metal walkway, feeling it sway a little from the suspension cables that keep it aloft. He holsters the pistol, curling the fingers of that hand around the rail instead. His right hand continues to clutch the vibroknife like it is an extension of himself.

Almost directly above them. From here he can drop onto the group, break his fall with one of their bodies, before wreaking his vengeance.

Hunter climbs silently to the railing. Leans over the edge, gravity pulling at his body, braced now on the outside of the walkway.

Ready to drop.

Echo spots the pair of bodies before Omega does. He stops her with a hand on her shoulder and ventures forwards cautiously, already knowing what he will find.

He is surprised to see the half-skull of Hunter’s helmet staring up at him from between the fallen mercenaries. He scoops it up and checks the wiring. The com is undamaged. It has been deliberately disabled.

Behind him he hears Omega.

“Tech, come in. Did you find Wrecker and Hunter?”

She has her bandaged hands pressed to her com, trying to raise her brothers. Echo hurries back to her, Hunter’s helmet in hand. Omega’s eyes go wide as she sees it.

“Is Hunter okay?” she asks in a fearful whisper, reaching out to brush the side of the helmet. The fresh bandages across her palms come away stained red.

“Don’t worry,” mutters Echo, “it’s not his blood.”

There is a moment of confusion before the meaning of his words dawns on Omega. She leans past him to peer down the corridor. Two bounty hunters. Not unconscious. Dead.

“Oh,” she says in a small voice. Then, looking up at him with a determined frown, “We need to find Hunter.”

Wrecker and Tech press tightly to the door-frame, one on either side of the corridor that has brought them to this hangar. Tech’s datapad says this is where Hunter should be, but all they can see are the clustered mercenaries.

Wrecker is the first one to look up. His hands move in a quick signal sequence, drawing Tech’s attention to their brother in his ambush position.

“Hunter,” breathes Tech. And as though it is a command, Hunter drops.

The chaos is immediate. Hunter is amongst the mercenaries, pistol forgotten, knife indiscriminately biting through cloth and armour into flesh. Panicked cries answer his sudden appearance. Blaster fire greets him.

Tech and Wrecker recognise Hunter’s grunt of pain like it is their own. They take a single moment to share a nod, and then they too join the fray.

Wrecker charges in, shoulder down, crashing into a mercenary and knocking him away from Hunter. Tech skirts the edge of the hanger, diving into a roll to evade a stray blaster bolt. He comes up with his pistol ready, gaze flitting over the knot of combatants before choosing his target. He knows this is the quickest way to end this.

Omega’s voice comes over the com but doesn’t answer. He needs all his considerable wits about him if he wants to take down his younger brother.

He steadies his aim.

He fires at Hunter.

Somewhere beyond the roaring in his ears Hunter is dimly aware that he is injured. There is a lingering trace of heat as the laser-burn crawls against his skin, softened from deadly to merely painful by the layer of his armour. It slows him, but he doesn’t let it stop him.

He ducks a wild haymaker meant to knock him to the ground and comes up inside the man’s guard. The mercenary yells as Hunter’s forehead connects with his nose, blood gouting from the broken cartilage, and Hunter winces at the shout pierces his already tender headache.

The migraine is stabbing behind his eyes now, his vision winking in and out in bright flashes. He has to finish this fight soon, or he won’t be able to.

The sudden jolt of a stun blast catches him in the back. He feels the sensation ripple forwards across his chest, electric, followed by numbness. The blast threatens to short out his enhanced senses.

With difficulty he fights the blackness that follows the stun bolt, dragging his awareness back to the fight. Two others still standing. To his surprise, he realises Wrecker is one of them.

Then Hunter feels an attacker leap onto his back. He howls in panic and anger; instinct directs him to dip his body, rolling the assailant over his shoulder. He grabs them and slams them into the floor, a blow designed to stun.

Recognises the helmet. The goggles.

“Tech?” he slurs in confusion.

And, “TECH!” The shout is echoed by Wrecker, scooping up their fallen brother.

The final mercenary takes advantage of the distraction. Two blaster bolts hit into Wrecker’s back, staggering him, and he clutches Tech to his chest protectively. Hunter watches as the bounty hunter retreats, fleeing for the bikes they came in on.

His prey's footsteps are still reverberating at the edge of Hunter’s enhanced hearing when others approach from behind him. He whirls, sees Echo and Omega.

“What happened?” demands Echo, crossing to Hunter. With one hand he pushes Omega behind him, making sure she doesn’t step round and see the Sergeant. Doesn’t see the feral gleam in his eyes, the sharp and dangerous expression of his open-mouthed panting.

“I’ll find him.” Hunter’s voice is a subhuman growl. “I’ll end it.”

Omega paces anxiously, glancing towards the farthest exit to the hanger. Tech is conscious but dazed, propped up against a storage crate as Echo checks his pupils. She worries for Hunter, but she has been told to stay put.

Wrecker finishes restraining the still-living mercenaries and rolls his shoulders, easing out the stiffness of the injuries he sustained. His own blaster is loose in his hands, still set to stun.

The bodies have been hidden to one side, smeared trails of red marking the route they had been pulled. So much for out of sight, out of mind. Omega curls up over her injured hands, rubbing at her wrists through the bandages. The rope burns itch under the healing bacta gel.

“Tech will be fine,” reports Echo, “but one of us should stay with him. Omega?”

“I’m going after Hunter,” she announces, before she can be asked to play medic. She turns and looks at Echo with her mouth set in an unhappy line.

Echo calmly meets her gaze. “Hunter won’t want you to see him like this,” he says softly.

“Hunter needs me.” She is the embodiment of stubbornness. “I know it.”

Wrecker’s big hand touches her shoulder gently.

“I’ll keep her safe, Echo,” he says, voice strained with an ache of worry. He pushes his helmet back down onto his head, the snarling skull hiding the concern in his eyes.

“Let’s go, kid.”

Hunter is exhausted, muscles trembling as he forces them to continue. He has to do this. The image of Omega’s injuries is burned behind his retinas, the scent of her fear cloying. He failed to protect her once. He won’t do so again.

One more mercenary, and the job was done. There would be no-one left to threaten her. And if this group didn’t return, perhaps whoever was hunting them would think twice before sending more agents to kidnap her.

Protect Omega. Blood pounds in his head. Every footstep is a hammer-fall on the anvil of his overwrought senses.

Protect Omega.

A blaster shot hits his right hand. The vibroknife is flung free of his grasp, spinning into the air and embedding in the wall above his head. Hunter startles, the pain in his hand almost enough to stop him from evading the follow-up shot aimed for his heart. He twists at the last moment, the blaster bolt grazing his chest-plate.

Then his feral instincts are back, taking over, shutting down the thoughts that are distracting him and driving him forwards into the fight.

Hunter lunges, closing the distance to his would-be ambusher in a burst of speed that belies his injured state. He doesn’t remember that he has a pistol. Instead he barrels into the man, tackling him to the floor. The two of them roll, fighting for dominance, and Hunter comes out on top. Slugs the man. Pain explodes in his knuckles but he doesn’t stop. Again. And again.

Under the onslaught the mercenary’s face is transforming to a swollen, bloody pulp. He writhes and bucks under Hunter, throwing the sergeant off and scrambling for escape. Hunter leaps after him and they are back to brawling, only it isn’t a brawl. The man is sobbing, arms over his head, trying to shield himself from Hunter’s incoming blows. Pleas dribble with bubbled blood from broken lips. The man weeps for mercy.

Hunter’s onslaught continues. One more mercenary, and the job is done.

Protect Omega. Protect her at all costs.

Omega and Wrecker round the corner and Wrecker pulls them up short. Hunter is locked in combat with the final mercenary, the sickening sound of fist hitting flesh and the crepitus of broken bone reaching them across the otherwise empty room.

Omega recoils, watching the scene with fascinated horror. The brutality makes her sick to her stomach, but she can’t look away.

Hunter’s hair is loose, missing the bandana that usually tames it, and hangs lank and sweaty about his face. Blood streaks his fists and spatters his armour. The air is punctuated by his soft grunts and laboured breath, and the moans and whimpers emanating from the figure that is huddled beneath his fury.

Wrecker lays his hand on Omega’s shoulder, trying to coax her away. “Omega,” he says, and his voice quavers. He crouches in front of her, interposing himself between her and the brutal scene, and pushes his helmet back on his head to lock gazes with her.

“What is he doing?” Omega whispers in horror, brown eyes wide as she searches Wrecker’s face for answers.

Wrecker merely shakes his head. “You should get outta here, kid. Head back to the Marauder, wait for the others.”

He stands and turns away from her, dropping the blaster and moving towards Hunter with his hands held up defensively. It is like he is approaching a wild animal, wary of attack.

“Hunter, stop it. Please, vod. He’s down, he surrendered. This isn’t right.”

If Hunter hears him he gives no sign. His punches keep flying, sluggish but solid. His victim lets out a single broken sob.

Omega’s com chirps.

“Omega, are you alright?” It is Tech, his voice weak-sounding as he recovers from concussion.

“We found Hunter,” she whispers, riveted on Wrecker’s careful advance.

Wrecker nears Hunter and his victim, one hand extended. “It’s me, Hunt,” he says, softening the brash edge of his voice. “Time to stop. Okay, vod?”

Hunter doesn’t hear him. Or ignores him. It is hard to tell.

“Is Wrecker able to handle the situation?” asks Tech.

Omega shakes her head. “No,” she says, voice trembling with determination. “But if Wrecker can’t make Hunter stop, I will.”

“Be careful, Omega,” Tech warns her, and she steels herself for what is to come.

She steps past Wrecker, ducks to evade his grasp as he tries to stop her. On shaky legs she closes the distance. Hunter, her Hunter, is a creature she does not recognise. Ruthless, bloodstained, no glimpse of gentleness or mercy.

Hunter leans back, winding up for a huge hit. Omega darts in front of him, catching hold of his fist, levelling her intense brown-eyed stare into the wildfire of his fury.

Omega positions herself directly in front of the exhausted sergeant. Hunter is on his knees, tattooed face glazed in sweat and blood that almost certainly does not belong to him. His shoulders heave as he gulps in great lungfuls of air.

“Don’t,” she says. A plea. A command. “Please don’t.”

For a moment Hunter’s eyes turn glassy and unfocused, pupils trembling with rapid dilations before he eventually blinks and manages to fix his gaze on the girl before him.

“Omega?” he croaks weakly, and staggers to his feet. He sways a little, then replants his feet and braces a hand against her shoulder to steady himself. “You’re meant to be with Tech.”

Unexpectedly, he retches. Omega takes a startled step back as Hunter heaves bile, his whole body trembling. When he is done he wipes his mouth slickly on the back of his hand, glancing round in confusion.

Wrecker steps forwards, caution still written in his posture. “Hey, Hunter,” he says softly, a greeting to his brother as he returns to his senses.

Hunter sags against Omega, his arms going round her in relief, and she can feel the uncontrolled quaking of his body as adrenaline fatigue truly sets in.

Quickly Wrecker steps in to support him, taking some of his weight from Omega. But Omega wraps her arms tightly round Hunter’s waist, pressing her face against his chest, ignoring the scent of blood and blaster-fire as she feels his trembling hand run through her hair.

“I forgive you, Hunter,” she whispers, fingers digging into the cracks of his armour as they both cling to each other with equal ferocity. “I forgive you.”

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develop-your-oc · 2 months

Note

Your blog has been so helpful with my oc developing journey! Thank you for putting so much time into collecting resources and the like! I did have a question, if you wouldn't mind answering, but how do you use Obsidian for sorting/recording your oc data? It's a little daunting and I've found myself constantly going over the info and trying to format everything. It's maddening. Thank you again for your hard work and time! <3

It's awesome that you've found this blog to be helpful! Thank you so much for telling me! 💖 (it ain't much but it's honest work dot jpeg)

Obsidian as a program is daunting especially if you're not familiar with similar applications (OneNote, Evernote, Joplin, etc.), but somehow I have completely forgotten how frustrating it was to get started from a blank page, even though I spent years struggling with that frustration. Here's a basic rundown of what I do!

Folders and basic setup are as follows:

Within one vault, I use multiple folders. One folder contains my templates, lists and other data, prompts, and so on. There are individual files for each original setting within this folder in order to take quick notes to be sorted later or keep reminders. Other files in this folder include ideas for future character names and other writing ideas.

Each setting has its own folder where everything related to it is stored, with OCs being the star of the show at the top level. There are several subfolders filled with notes, completed prompts, drabbles, lore, codex entries, etc.

One of the subfolders is for files regarding characters that my OCs interact with but aren't mine (a roleplay partner's OC, a game NPC, etc.) to store notes and other useful information for later reference, like a wiki page built only for myself.

As for the OCs themselves:

Each OC has its own file within the folder of their setting where a template holds their information. This template is vague enough to be useful in most settings, and simple enough to allow editing as needed.

The template begins as a simple formatted list of basics as you would expect (identity, appearance, occupation, etc.), as well as likes, dislikes, hobbies, skills, virtues, and flaws.

All friends, family, lovers, and so on are listed with a very brief description of how they are connected to my OC.

There are sections beneath the list for all the substantial information. — Background: everything from before their story begins. From before the arrival of you, the creator, if that makes sense. — Going Forward: from the beginning of their story, to the end (if there is one), and into the future beyond that. — Trivia: tidbits of information and facts that don't fit anywhere else. — Timeline: a chronological list with dates and concise details. Additional information is sorted into one of the other sections, the destination based on where the information would be most relevant. — Relationships: important relationships are detailed here. — Notes: the anything goes catch-all. Less about the character and more about you, like a reminder ("name their childhood pet!") or something worth noting ("my first OC!").

If the character is still in its concept phase, I stick to bullet point notes and update with the template later as needed.

Other things I'd like to mention:

There's more functionality within Obsidian than what I use, but I'm happy with my methods for now.

I make heavy use of bullet points, tab indents, and the little arrow that pops up to open or close lengthy sections as needed.

I never fill out the entire template at once, or ever; some sections remain empty permanently and some characters remain bullet points. It is what it is!

I keep the files for all the OCs that are currently rotting my brain open in tabs at the top! 🥰

Sometimes a folder is a genre and is instead used for multiple settings, such as all my OCs from the various farming simulation games I play sharing the same folder.

Relationships can sometimes be easier as their own page, particularly if it involves more than two characters, such as families and their dynamics.

This is a brief description of how I do things for myself. This works for me, but may not work for you. I tend to make up a bunch of silly little rules for myself, so please take this as inspiration rather than instruction. If this is confusing or you would like more help, anon, please DM me again and I'll work on visual examples and better explanations. Thanks again, and I hope this helps!

#answer #uhhhh #does this make ANY sense idk 😳#untagged

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1dcommunityficrecs · 4 months

Text

Girl Direction!

List number two is here! And y'all really showed up, we have 35 amazing fics ranging from barely 1,000 word quick stories to 100,000 word epics all celebrating GIRLS. We've also got a few rarepairs included, which I'm excited to check out!

Please enjoy, share, kudos, comment -- and get ready for the next theme!

Man Made Beauty by jaerie (4788, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: M/F

Famous Louis meets non- famous tgirl Harry (again)

Reccer says:

that good girl faith (and a tight little skirt) by ariadne_odair (43734, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Louis are camp counsellors. They hate each other. The amount of sex they have in the camp showers probably contradicts that.

Reccer says: This story is everything you want from Girl Direction, including impeccable Summer vibes, hot lesbian sex and cute side Ziam.

Bluer than velvet were her eyes (softer than satin were her thighs) by thebreadvan (12333, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Tailor!Harry should probably stop obsessing over her customer’s boobs, but fate can’t keep her away from plus-size model!Louis

Reccer says: Boobs Are Awesome (TM) or, I am love with this fic and the way Harry is just so lesbian over Louis. Harry is a gay mess and Louis is irresistible. I love how the tension was written and explained, also Harry and Louis' dynamic.

You got me in the back of your car like a star (is it wrong?) by thebreadvan (2165, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry and Louis go on a road trip, their car breaks down and it's too hot to keep their clothes on.

Reccer says: 80s vibes

She keeps her lips red (to seem like cherries in the spring) by thebreadvan (35299, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

The Office AU, where Harry is engaged and Louis is pining.

Reccer says: Cute baby gay Harry? Love. Pining Louis? LOVE.

She spreads her lovin' all over (and when she gets home, there's none left for me) by thebreadvan (5361, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Watersports

For Harry and Louis, moving in together wasn't easy. (Part II of The Office series)

Reccer says: Domestic Larry getting into a fight that ultimately ends in hot (messy) sex

The Changer and the Changed by Homosociallyyours (59496, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

1970s coming out / self-discovery featuring poet Louis, new girl Harry, folksinger Zayn and her girlfriend Liam, and women’s bookstore owner Niall. Harry is a closeted lesbian who moves to New York after graduation. She meets Louis, a proud lesbian who works in a popular women’s bookstore. They click instantly.

Reccer says: I’ve never read a more beautiful girl direction story. Completely atmospheric and SUCH wonderful, layered characters - including all of OT5! The setting is so thoughtful and their relationship is so mature. This fic feels both like a historical nonfiction and something absolutely timeless. The author really digs into the queer struggle of the 1970s, and in doing so highlights how much things haven't really changed.

Pink Like the Paradise Found by Disgruntledkittenface (18477, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Midwest US girl direction coming out! Harry goes to her first gay bar and meets bartender Louis. It's the first time she really feels like she's a bonafide lesbian.

Reccer says: I love the honest communication, the awkward flirting, and excellent smut! A very relatable story for me.

Tell Me This Is Paradise by QuickedWeen (19855, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Exhibitionism in later chapters

Harry has never had an orgasm. Niall decides that this needs to be rectified, and her method of choice is Louis. Turns out, Louis is very very good at giving Harry orgasms.

Reccer says: Incredibly hot, incredibly honest, incredibly sweet, and HOO BOY I might be a slut for exhibitionism. I also love the way we get to follow their relationship through the chapters.

I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right by lululawrence (4381, Not Rated, Nick Grimshaw/Liam Payne) - fic post

From AO3/author: "Nick was a bit of a disaster, but she was used to it. Or so she thought. She had never known how much she could struggle just to function until the new fire lady goddess angel person winked at her."

Reccer says: Unique rarepair fic with a fun and interesting dynamic that adds depth to not only Girl Direction as a trope, but also to 1D fics in general!

Little pink skirt by ialwaysknewyouwerepunk (2468, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Recreational drugs

The girls are at a festival. When Louis tries to light a spliff, the wind makes it impossible to do so, for which Harry has an idea.

Reccer says: The author! Kidding (am i?) but it was so hot. I was caught in by the art and then well… it became a classic for me!

Blush by orphan_account (15128, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

"I've never wanted to kiss a girl but like, every time I look at your lips I just wanna... fucking kiss you all night long." Harry's eyes open wide as Louis' drop to Harry's mouth; her lips are swollen from biting them all night, red and wet and plump. "Then why don't you?" Harry whispers. (or, the Christmas FxF Larry fic in which Louis is 99.5% sure she's straight and Harry likes to walk around shirtless and watch lesbian films)

Reccer says: very friends to lovers Christmas pic that is as fluffy as you want a Christmas fit to be, the smut is vanilla so great if you just want to relax with some pining and confused Lesbians

thank goodness love can float by cryptidstar (orphan_account) (2486, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

prompt: au where they're both sorted in Slytherin and Louis gets tired of Harry flirting with the merpeople through the glass windows of their common room and not enough with Louis. (fem!larry)

Reccer says: very cute and pure sapphic love story, I am always up for a good Harry Potter/Hogwarts AU fit

Bleeding Love by momentofclarity (27191, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Louis is an animal rights activist who throws red paint at fur coat wearing it-girl Harry Styles. Then there's a crack in the surface and something new starts bleeding through.

Reccer says: I'm always here for enemies to lovers, especially if it's written as excellent as it is in this fic.

Bittersweet, Irrepressible by fairytalefemme (5120, General, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

“Dear Sappho,” Harry pleaded, her voice unsure and her eyes squeezed tightly shut, “or Hayley Kiyoko, or anyone really. Aphrodite? You’re the goddess of love or summat, right? Um, or God, I guess, if you’re there and you happen to be a lesbian. There must be a lesbian god somewhere, right? Or at least someone who’s sympathetic to the needs of a young lesbian. Because I need some help. I need Louis Tomlinson to like me back." In which Harry's been in love with Louis all semester but can't tell the difference between platonic and romantic interactions, leading to pining and confusion and at least one date.

Reccer says: this fic is so lesbian I can't lesbian anymore

bambi legs by disgruntledkittenface (11552, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry works at her family’s fabric store sometimes and always sells the most interesting fabrics to Louis. Louis is the wannabe fashion designer who keeps buying fabric she doesn’t necessarily need just to find a way to talk to Harry.

Reccer says: it’s so hard to narrow it down because aghhhh i love everything about this fic!!! BEST characterization (including ace Harry) and perfect Zarry friendship. Squee-worthy crushing! Sweet open Harry and lovely lovely Louis! i adore the ace representation and how the characters handled it, the banter, the pet names!!! and the oblivious friends to lovers trope is *chef’s kiss*

If You See My Reflection in the Snow-Covered Hills by friendofhayley (16948, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Alcoholism

The story of One Direction if they were all queer women!

Reccer says: I like how much research was put into it and also how feminist and queer it is?

It’s Probably Because I’ve Got a Big Lesbian Crush on You by yeah_alright (6600, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Brief reference to past homophobia/bullying

OMG MEAN GIRLS AU

Reccer says: It's so funny and such a good twist on the movie - it's not exactly like it but the characters and the VIBES are perfect!

To Sleep, Perchance to Ream by yeah_alright (3988, Explicit, Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles) - fic post Warnings: Somnophilia (consensual)

Harry and Louis have a signal for when Harry wants Louis to fuck her after she's fallen asleep

Reccer says: Kinky and so hot so hot omg so so hot!!! It’s so hot and cute at the same time. I remember I was like ‘omg i want what these two have’

Among Lavender Fields by homosociallyyours (70000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Internalized homophobia

Harry and Louis are cast in a movie by a French director and the director has them live together while they film in a beautiful, remote location

Reccer says: AN ABSOLUTE DREAM! Just beautiful, soft women falling in love! Honestly like living in a soft, soothing fantasy - absolutely flawless!

It's Been So Long by littleroverlouis (10608, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry and Louis are ex-wives who still have fun sexy times.

Reccer says: OLDER SUPER HOT LADIESSSSSSSS so funny and hot

Vesper by Yesisaworld/louandhazaf (2000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Louis orders herself a vibrator but ships it to Harry's house because she doesn't want her to mom to get the delivery and ask questions. Friends to lovers. Bisexual Louis thanks to Harry LOL

Reccer says: It's so much packed in! Sweet and hot and funny - such a sucker for good friends realizing they should probably go ahead and do it!

Close Our Eyes (Pretend We're Miles Away) by haztobegood (5000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Major Character Death

Harry and Louis' girls weekend away turned bad and now they're on the run from the law. Thelma and Louise AU

Reccer says: Incredible balance of soft and tense. Made me so so emotional!

Sea Asunder by cupcakentea (68000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry's mom hires painter Louis to capture Harry well enough that she can find a husband. Portrait of a Lady on Fire AU.

Reccer says: Absolutely gorgeous writing! It somehow captures the quietness of the movie but allows the characters to shine through even more.

Must be the Season of the Witch by 4ureyesonly28/evilovesyou (14500, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry get a new coat at a thrift store and it brings her both Louis and magic.

Reccer says: witchy goodness! found family! Really beautiful and moving

Harriet and Louise by Blaaake (29000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Lesbian Jane Austen novel, basically

Reccer says: Lesbian. Jane Austen. Novel.

tempted by the fruit of another by disgruntledkittenface (3000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson/Zayn Malik) - fic post

Zayn walks in on Harry and Louis hooking up and can't look away.

Reccer says: Zourry my beloved!!! So tender and hot - like SO HOT! Such perfect using of switching POV

in my head we can love forever by beardyboyzx (1272, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Pain kink

Harry's got to stop touching herself while thinking about her roommate. Except that she can't. Or: Harry might be a bit in love with her roommate.

Reccer says: The author does an amazing job at fitting so much emotion into so few words

I know I've got this (because I've had it all along) by we_are_the_same (16351, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Body image, self-esteem issues

Louis struggles with her body image, and she's initially hesitant when her friend Liam books her a boudoir shoot. Despite her nerves, the photographer Harry teaches her to see herself in a whole new way.

Reccer says: I love the way the author describes Louis' emotion: you can feel all her insecurities as if they were your own

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by yeah_alright/uhoh-but-yeah-alright (50000, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

80s AU - Harry and her high school boyfriend's sister become friends…and then eventually more. Popular, sweet Harry and seemingly tough/loner Louis.

Reccer says: I'm such a sucker for girls slowly realizing they're into girls specifically by realizing they *like* like each other. Sweet and funny and soft with just a tiny bit of angst. It's four parts - one for each season - it's just so lovely!

still, somehow by disgruntledkittenface (1124, Not Rated, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Depression

Louis trims Liam's split ends.

Reccer says: This fic has such tender and care. It holds such a special place in my heart.

You Make Lovin' Fun by homosociallyyours (109915, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Silver fox Louis and 28 year old travel writer Harry meet on a gay cruise.

Reccer says: An all time favorite with such amazing character development for Harry! And incredible side characters keeping everything fun!

tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld (17901, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

Reccer says: Loved the chemistry between all the characters and especially the love story between Harry and Louis

Daydream by allwaswell16 (2024, Teen, Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Every Thursday, Louis nods hello to her fellow regulars at Horan’s Cafe, one of whom is the woman of her dreams.

Reccer says: So funny and charming!

Study Dates and Coffee Taste by AlwaysHazandLou (2000, General, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Prompt: college au - Harry and Louis have the same class and they have a crush on each other but they're disaster gays and one of them is great at the class and the other one sucks so they have to tutor them.

Reccer says:

#girl direction #category 2 #rec list #one direction #louis tomlinson #harry styles #liam payne #niall horan #zayn malik #girl direction source #tracksintheam #ficsfor4am #trackinghome #allwaswell16 #alwaysxlarrie #hlcreators #hlficlibrary #1dficvillage #1dsource

70 notes · View notes

ass-deep-in-demons · 5 months

Note

Can I please get a headcanon of Boromir having a crush on Gandalfs apprentice who looks after the hobbits like their mum? Boromir is kinda their dad/cool uncle so they both grow close together.

Also Boromir, apprentice and hobbits falling to sleep in a big cuddle puddle 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

Girl (gn) thank you so much for this awesome ask! I get the feeling that you had something slightly different in mind, but I suffer from a plotter's disease and I created an entire plotline in these headcanons and also two mini-fics. There's some angst, but there is CUDDLES, as requested :D Hope you will like it :)

Boromir x Gandalf's Apprentice

headcanons and two ficlets

Found Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending, rated G, 4250 words, she/her pronouns for OC, TW: canon Moria events & aftermath

I ✦ The Pupil ✦

Gandalf has been around for thousands of years. The peoples of Middle Earth tell different stories about him, but in every corner of the known (and unknown) World one of his many names has been heard.

During his travels, nobody knows exactly when or where, Gandalf finds a young one with magical talent. He does not know what strange anomaly might have caused a child to be born with arcane affinity, normally reserved for the Ainur such as himself, but… stranger things have happened on Arda. Perhaps the Illuvatar himself willed it. If so, it would be unwise to leave the child to its own fate.

At first he visits her home from time to time and shows her his fireworks and his pipe smoke magics. Her caretakers find him strange, but he pays them no heed, comes and goes as he pleases.

His suspicions are confirmed - the child can be taught to replicate some of his simple tricks, proving she is able to tune in to the Song of the Ainur. Her power is not great, barely a wisp of magic compared to Gandalf’s own, but still, it is worth cultivating. Gandalf deems it his duty to take the fledgeling under his wing and make her his pupil.

Gandalf tells his Pupil about his travels and about the secrets of Middle Earth. In time, as she grows, she starts yearning to leave her home and go exploring with the Wizard.

When the Pupil is old enough, Gandalf takes her with him on a journey. They spend years travelling together. Keeping up with Gandalf is not easy for the Pupil, but she perseveres.

With the Grey Wizard, the Pupil visits the Western Kingdoms, the Elven Realms, and Eriador. She helps Gandalf with his quests and meets many new people.

Later, when she is more experienced, Gandalf deems her ready to spread her wings and have her own adventures. She travels doing errands and fulfilling quests that her Master assigns her.

She spends some time studying under Saruman - from him she learns the basics of arcane knowledge. However, Saruman fails to appreciate her quiet, subtle talent. He is not pleased with her progress, nor is she with his teaching methods, and they part ways on non-too-amicable terms.

Her stay in Mirkwood is much more fruitful. From the Silvan Elves, she picks up the basics of scouting and learns how to read the signs of the Forest. She is fascinated with Radagast, and dedicates time to assist him in his tasks as the Guardian of the Woods - learning about the powers that lie dormant in the ancient trees. Radagast teaches her how to care for animals and heal what is broken. Nurturing and patient by nature, the Pupil responds well to the Brown Wizard’s tutelage.

The Pupil is present in Mirkwood when Aragorn brings Gollum there for safeguarding, and later when Gandalf comes to question him. She learns of the Ring and of Sauron’s return.

Gandalf assigns her a mission to go to Erebor, to enlist the help of the Dwarves. She arrives at Rivendell with Gloin, Gimli and the rest of the Dwarven deputation.

She is not deemed important enough to join the Council of Elrond, and besides, Gandalf has other plans for her. He sends her forth to scout the gap of Rohan, in case they need to pass there on their way to Mordor.

After the Council and the period of preparations, the Fellowship sets off. The Pupil finds them on the trail further South. She is able to clear any doubts for them: the Gap of Rohan is overrun with Saruman’s spies, and so the passage is closed to them.

They decide to go through the Redhorn Gate. Gandalf orders his Pupil to return to Rivendell, but to his surprise, for the first time since he took her as his ppprentice, she defies him. She wants to travel with the Fellowship, intent on helping her Master in any way she can.

Faced with her obstinacy, Gandalf finds a task in which she can indeed be of use. He’s been growing more and more irritated with the Hobbits’ mischief. They are loud, impish, and unused to living in the wilderness. “So long as you keep the Hobbits from pestering me, you may travel with us. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, my stubborn Pupil,” he grumbles.

The Pupil, who is of a gentle and giving nature, but also stern when she needs to be, quickly forms a familial bond with not only the Hobbits, but the entire Fellowship.

She has met Aragorn during her earlier travels with Gandalf. The Ranger knows he can rely on her scouting, and is relieved to have someone beside himself and Legolas who knows their way around the woods. She helps Aragorn gather herbs and imbues his mixtures with her subtle healing spells.

Though she’s met Legolas in passing during her Mirkwood days, she only becomes better acquainted with him during the Fellowship’s trek south. Legolas is glad to know someone who is well acquainted with his home, and shares his love for the woods.

Because of her earlier mission to Erebor, and the shared journey from the Lonely Mountain to Rivendell, she is well acquainted with Gimli. The dwarf teases her for being “too elfy” and a “tree lover”, but he is very grateful for her kindness and her efforts to ease tensions within the Fellowship.

Frodo has long known her as Gandalf’s Apprentice, and the rest of the Hobbits warm up to her quickly. They are delighted to be around someone, who, like themselves, isn’t so strongly focused on the topics of warfare and survival. Istead, they bond over their shared appreciation for a good meal and a good laugh. Tasked with keeping them out of trouble, she often mother-hens them, especially Merry and Pippin, who are the youngest.

Boromir is the only one who, not knowing her prior to their meeting on the trail, has some trouble trusting her at first. He is generally suspicious of magic users, and also a little bit jealous of how quickly she builds good rapport with the Hobbits (though he will not admit it).

That being said, he might not be so immune to her caring touch as he thinks…

II ✦ Soup for the Soul ✦

I should not let them fall asleep like that. True although it was, this realisation came to Boromir rather late.

After their failed excursion through the Redhorn Pass, the Fellowship had descended to once again take shelter under the canopy of the woodlands of Eriador. They now had only one route open, through the Mines of Moria, and all save for the Dwarf did not take well to that prospect. They were travelling South, slowly and reluctantly, still recovering from the snowstorm that cut their path.

Earlier today, once they had set up camp, Boromir had organised a fencing lesson for Merry and Pippin. He had hoped that some light exercise would speed their recovery and help them regain some of their lost strength. Even Frodo had joined on this occasion, which gladdened Boromir. Their journey had not lasted long, but the first signs of wear and discouragement could be already seen on the young Baggins.

After their sword practice (sword being a generous word for the dirks that the Hobbits carried), they all sat down under a tree to sharpen their blades. Pippin had trouble with maintaining the angle, and asked Boromir to show him how it’s done. As Boromir expertly whetted the dagger, the three hobbits leaned in on him, supposedly to better observe and learn. Boromir was none the wiser, and only Meriadoc’s loud snore made him finally realise that the three Halflings had fallen asleep, using his padded shoulders and arms as pillows. Now he was stuck under them, not wanting to disturb their sleep - not when Frodo was peaceful at last, after several nights during which Boromir had heard the Hobbit toss and turn.

Tired and hungry, Boromir resigned himself to his fate. As he could not move without waking the little ones, and it was gradually getting dark, he quietly observed the Fellowship’s campfire from a distance. Gandalf was sitting on a log by the fire and smoking his pipe, clearly content to have some peace and quiet. Samwise was busy cleaning after the meal - a stew which Boromir did not have the chance to taste yet, and probably wouldn’t now, not while it was hot at least. Gimli had been assigned with securing the perimeter - it was his turn to scout the surrounding forest and make sure they were safe for the night. Aragorn and Legolas were seated together some distance away from the campfire and discussing something in hushed tones - likely their strategy for approaching the Gates of Moria. Boromir was rarely included in their talks, which sat ill with him. Not for the first time he regretted their less-than-optimal introduction during the Council in Imladris.

There remained one more member of their party - the woman who everyone except Boromir seemed to already know. They called her the Pupil, likely because of Mithrandir. My young Pupil this, my clever Pupil that, my stubborn Pupil, my silly Pupil... - the Wizard would always say, and it stuck. Boromir could not tell her age - she looked neither old nor young. She did bear elven nor dwarven features, nor orcish for that matter… and yet he could not be sure she was wholly of the race of Men. Boromir did not know what to make of her.

Right now she was crouching next to the campfire, her back turned to Boromir, so he could not see what she was doing. He had not trusted her, at first. She hadn’t been part of their original team. She did not seem proficient in combat, nor very sturdy. He had been angry when she had declared they couldn’t travel through the Gap of Rohan, as he himself would have preferred that route to any other. And yet her intel had proved correct. She was also useful in other ways. During the snowstorm atop Caradhras, he had witnessed her magic - not flashy, like the Wizard’s fireworks, but rather slow and subtle. Mithrandir refused to light a fire for fear of drawing the wrong kind of attention, but she had used her quiet talent to keep the little ones from freezing with potions. She had imbued Boromir’s leather grieves with some sort of a warming spell, too, even though it had seemed to sap at her strength. He had to assume she was loyal to the Grey Pilgrim, and so, by extension, loyal to the Ringbearer’s mission.

He noticed that she stood up, then. Instead of addressing the Wizard, she turned around to face Boromir, and he noticed a bowl in her hands. He then guessed what her purpose by the fire had been: she was heating up the leftovers of the stew. Slowly, carefully, so as not to spill anything, she approached Boromir and the Hobbits’ resting place under the tree.

She kneeled and set the steaming stew on the forest floor beside them. Then, once their eyes met, she touched her lips with her finger signalling him to remain quiet. That he could do. She noiselessly stood up and scampered off back to the campfire, leaving Boromir once again. The smell of the stew reached his nostrils and he cursed quietly. Some help she was, leaving him to smell the meal, but without the means to taste it! Not without disturbing the Hobbits, at least.

But he was not left to pine after the stew for long. Soon she returned to him, carrying a bundle that she then unfolded to reveal a chunky warm blanket. She covered them with it, Boromir and the three sleeping hobbits, tucking the edges in gently. It did help to ward off the evening chill, Boromir admitted.

Then she plopped down to the forest floor next to Boromir, sat cross legged and picked up the bowl once again. Is she going to make me watch her eat it? Boromir thought and felt a surge of irritation at her inconsiderate behaviour. She scooped up a hearty portion of the stew with a spoon, but, to Boromir’s alarm, she did not bring it to her mouth. Instead, she directed the spoon surely and smoothly to Boromir’s own lips.

In that moment, Boromir would sooner open his mouth from sheer shock than for the sake of any sort of cooperation. He was a Man grown! It has been… nigh to four decades since he had let anyone spoon-feed him last. He turned his head away firmly. The Pupil, however, would not give up so easily. She reached out with her free hand and gently swept Boromir’s hair away from his face.

The gesture made him flustered. It has been… quite some time since any woman has touched his face. He was thankful for the shroud of dusk. He had nowhere to run however, and he felt her nudge his lips with the spoon, urging him to open his mouth. He was forced to meet her gaze once again.

What he found on her face was not amusement, nor condescension, but rather... gentle pleading. She really was only trying to help.

"Let me", she mouthed silently.

He shook his head and pursed his lips even tighter.

Then, as if his own body wanted to play tricks on him, they both heard his traitorous stomach give out a loud growl.

The Pupil raised her eyebrow at Boromir.

Well? Are you going to deny that you’re hungry now? her expression seemed to demand.

He rolled his eyes as a universal way of saying whatever, I care not, and finally opened his mouth.

A spoonful of warm stew finally landed on his tongue, and he felt the most delightful warmth spread through his body. He had to fight an urge to growl at the pleasant sensation.

The Pupil smiled.

There. That wasn’t so hard, Boromir read from her content face.

This was a good idea, after all, he thought after the second spoon. He had been ravenous, he realised, and the stew was doing wonders for his mood. It was surprisingly nice to have someone take care of him that way. For too long a time he had been only attending to the needs of others, not accepting any help for himself.

He met her concentrated gaze, as she continued to feed him the stew, restoring his strength with each spoonful.

“You did good,” she mouthed silently and Boromir furrowed his brows, confused. “With the little ones,” she added, and vaguely indicated the sleeping Hobbits with her head. Oh, she means the sword-practice, he thought, and felt no small satisfaction from her compliment.

He was reminded of how taking care of Faramir was always a duty that filled him with joy and pride. This was not dissimilar, he realised, and it was nicer still to have someone help him and share some of that responsibility. He felt contentment at what they’d accomplished together: Pippin breathing deeply, with his head resting on Boromir’s arm, Meriadoc snoring quietly slumped against his friend, and Frodo - looking strengthened and at ease, sleeping soundly propped against the tree on Boromir’s other side.

Is this how being a father feels like? What if I had a child of my own one day? he asked himself. But this thought of parenthood that came to him, perhaps for the first time in his life, was so strange and foreign, and so surprising, that he dared not dwell on it any longer. Instead he resigned himself to the gentle care of the strange woman, who turned out to be… not so strange, after all.

III ✦ Picking up the Pieces ✦

Boromir was sure he would never forget the moment Gandalf fell.

He remembered the unearthly heat and the fumes of sulphur that wafted from the hellish chasm. He remembered Mithrandir’s white knuckles, holding on to the collapsed bridge’s edge, and the Wizard’s desperate last message to the Fellowship: Fly, you fools!

But what he remembered the most, and what was was going to forever haunt him, was the cry of Gandalf’s devoted Pupil. Her broken, desperate wail, the kind that a mortally wounded animal might give out, as if her very heart was rent out of her chest and thrown into the fiery pit.

She wanted to jump in after her Master, and would have, but for Boromir’s interference. Unmoved by her screams of protest, he had hoisted her up over his shoulder and heeded the Wizard’s last bidding. He ran.

He ran after the others, despite the army of orcs upon their tail and despite her angry trashing in his grip. He ran to the open sky and to safety, so that they both could live to fight another day.

But right now it did not look like she had any fight left in her. They were, all of the Fellowship, cooped up on the border of Caras Galadhorn, the elven realm of Lothlorien. Aragorn and Legolas were currently negotiating their safe passage through the woodlands with the elven Marchwardens. It was a heated dispute in Sindarin, of which Boromir could catch only certain words, but he understood enough to know they were not likely to face a warm welcome.

The rest of the Fellowship had been allowed to rest. They were, all of them, in foul spirits. Gimli had been quiet ever since he had learned of the tragic fate of Balin’s Kingdom, and Boromir could only surmise that the Dwarf needed his space to fully take in the bad news. He was loath to intrude upon his friend’s quiet contemplation. Frodo and Pippin were weeping openly and Sam was trying to offer them whatever comfort he could, mostly by wiping their wet cheeks and noses time after time.

The state of Gandalf’s Pupil worried Boromir the most. Since he had carried her away from the danger, once she stopped resisting the rescue, she went completely still and quiet, her eyes unseeing. She had not spoken a word, not responded to any attempts at conversation. He could only suspect she was in some sort of shock. He’d seen it on the battlefield enough times to recognize the signs. It made sense; as Boromir understood it, Mithrandir had been a father figure to the woman, someone she considered family. In a way, with the Wizard, her entire life had fallen down that chasm. He felt helpless; he wanted to console her, but the sheer magnitude of her loss left him overwhelmed.

He felt a tug at his gambeson and looked down. It was Meriadoc.

“Go to her,” the Hobbit whispered.

“I… I would not presume. I do not know what to say to her,” Boromir confessed, dejected.

“Then do not say anything,” Merry insisted. “Just go there and hold her,” he added. “Trust me, it will help.”

Boromir took a hesitant step in her direction. Then another. He spared a thought to his appearance… he was bone-tired, aching and covered in goblin ichor head to toe. Not exactly conducive to physical intimacy. Then again, she was in a similar state, and, really, vanity was the least of their concerns.

Tentatively, he sat next to her on the wooden platform. Up close he could see that, although she was sitting motionless and staring ahead, her eyes were damp. The tears had washed away the dust from her face, forming clean streaks down her cheeks.

He had long since stopped regarding her as merely Gandalf’s Apprentice, or just an ally in a dangerous quest. Instead, upon seeing the state she was in, his heart wept with her…

Gone.

Her mind could not comprehend it. Everything she had learned about the Wizard during their life together contradicted this truth. Her Master could not die, he was simply too powerful, too wise, too… godly, for the mundane laws of life and death to apply to him. And yet, what had happened - happened. She’d seen it with her own eyes and his fall would now play out in her mind again and again, each time shattering the ground that she had built her life on.

Such kindness, such wealth of knowledge as her Master’s would never again grace Middle Earth, she was sure of it. And now that light was gone. Extinguished forever with a mere flick of a monster’s whip.

What shall I do now? Wherever shall I go? she wondered. Was she even welcome in the Fellowship anymore? Ever since she could remember, she had been Gandalf’s Pupil. And now that there was no Gandalf, who was she? A nobody. Aragorn and Frodo likely had no use for a nobody. But such thoughts were too painful to bear in her current state. So, instead she let them go and simply drifted in the darkness of her inner world, that was now forever marred by grief. She did not know where she was, or how much time had passed. A million years wouldn’t be enough to mourn her Master.

The first thing, the first sensation that managed to break through the dark shroud that surrounded her consciousness, was that of the warmth of another. Someone’s arm was on her back, rubbing gentle, soothing circles. Then that very same arm encircled her form and drew her into a hug. She had no wish to be consoled, she didn’t want any comfort. She wanted to cry, to wail and to tear at her clothing… But then she felt Boromir’s familiar presence. Him, she could let close. He had been a comfort to her during their travels many a time. She relaxed gradually and let her head fall back to find support against him.

Slowly but surely, his steadying touch made her come back to her senses and to the present moment. She was seated on the forest floor, she noted, in Lothlorien most likely, if her geographical knowledge had not failed her. Boromir was seated next to her, his back propped against one of the giant trees. He was also holding her in his arms, close to his chest and stroking her shoulder soothingly. His cheek rested atop her head. She had no strength nor care left in her to wonder what this closeness could mean for the two of them. She was just… immensely relieved and thankful for the comfort that his arms offered. She was at her lowest and most wretched, and yet he was willing to share that moment with her. For that, she would be forever thankful.

Boromir’s compassion moved her and tears spilled down her cheeks once again. Against her wishes she started sobbing. She felt the Man next to her stir. For a moment, she thought he would let go of her and leave her to her sorrow. Instead, Boromir tightened his embrace. Then he gently but surely pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“...mise me you’ll never do that again.” She realised he was whispering something to her halfway through his sentence.

“Never do what?” she asked.

“You… Back at the Bridge… at Khazad-dum,” he said quietly, “you wanted to jump after him, didn’t you?” This was no question. “I couldn’t bear it,” he said simply. “Promise me you’ll live.”

“What reason to live do I have left?” she asked. There was no bite to her words, just a simple statement of the facts, as they appeared to her.

“I could help you find a new purpose, if you would but let me,” he whispered to her ear and held her fast in his embrace. Against her better judgement, and despite their tragic circumstances, her heart did a flip.

“Boromir, I…” she began, but her sentence was cut short when she felt a firm shove upon her side.

“Oi! Move!” a voice sounded from behind her. She turned around and saw the four Hobbits standing next to the tree. “Make some space for us! We all need a hug, and you’re hoarding all the best cuddles to yourself,” said Pippin and sniffed.

She regarded the Halflings: their red, puffy eyes and their wet cheeks. They were grieving too, no less than she was. Even so, Pippin was making an attempt at levity. For her sake, to help her bear the pain, she realised. The little ones had the gift of laughter, and it would not fail them even in their darkest hour.

Suddenly, her purpose became clear to her anew: Gandalf had bid her to take care of the Hobbits. And so she would continue to do that. Her Master might be gone, but his legacy yet lived. It lived through her, through the Fellowship, and their quest. She would not abandon them now.

“Of course, Master Peregrin,” she said, her voice creaky from all the crying. “There is cuddles enough for everyone.” And so Meriadoc weaselled his way between her and Boromir, and the rest of the Hobbits piled up atop them like hens on the roost.

“Do you think we ought to wake them?” asked Legolas. The Elf and Aragorn were back from their negotiations with the Marchwardens. The Lady of the Golden Forest had intervened on their behalf, and so not only the passage was now open to them, they would be provided rest and comfort in Caras Galadhorn. What the Elf and the Ranger did not expect was the sight of all their companions, even the Dwarf Gimli, passed out from grief and exhaustion atop one another in one giant group hug.

“Let them rest a while,” said Aragorn gently. “After what we've all been through, I’ve half the mind to join them myself.”

[fanfiction masterpost]

#lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #lotr headcanons #boromir #boromir x oc #gandalf #[arda]#ass deep in demons #ass deep in asks

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theresattrpgforthat · 2 months

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Thanks so much for doing all this, I love what you do for enjoyers of ttrpgs!!

What I'm looking for is epistolary or long-distance, asynchronous games for multiple players. I know you've done lists of 2-player games that people can play in their own time (writing letters or journal entries back and forth, stating your actions in a message then waiting for the other player, etc) but I was wondering if there were any I could play with 3 or more players with different timezones & schedules at once.

Genre and playstyle are flexible, we love trying new mechanics! I've struggled to find games to fit this myself, so I hope you can have a little more luck. You're awesome for taking these requests and finding so many different games for people!

THEME: Asynch & Epistolary for 3 or More.

Hello friend! First of all, I’m going to send you to my Epistolary (Part 3) post because that was specifically for 3 or more players, as well as my first epistolary post because there were a number there that could also be played with a number of people.

But don't worry, there's more!

Angels of the Railway Stations, by Speak the Sky.

There’s only so much you can do alone, but you’re not alone. There’s only so much that can be done with any one meeting, but life is more than one meeting. As you go through the stages of Arrival, Stopover, and Departure, take notes of everything in the form of a letter to be sent on with the train when it leaves the station. These letters should give your fellow angels more context to help the traveller in need along the way. They’re also your only way to communicate with your colleagues and comrades.

Angels of the Railway Stations is an epistolary game for 2+ players in which you play a liminal community of lonely angels. Help lonely travellers in a world undergoing a great upheaval, then write about what you see and do to pass it on to the next angel down the line.

All of the rules for this game can fit on one page, and require you to rely on other players to determine what each of your passengers need and help them get to where they need to go - on time. Angels of the Railway Station references a game called Black Engines, which does not actually exist, which means that many parts of this game will require your play group to fill in the blanks. That being said, I think Angels of the Railway Station has plenty of potential when it comes to telling emotional stories.

Intersecting Orbits, by Ell Schulman.

For as long as there have been Orbiters, there has been the Interference. Spikes in data that have no business being there, garbled words, ghosts in the machinery. Few people believe truly in the existence of the Interference as an entity.The Interference does not care what they believe.

The planet below is alive. There are deep oceans and high mountains and biomes we do not have names for. There are plants and animals that do not conform to systems we know.

There are people who look up at the stars and wonder who else is out there.There is so much to explore.

Intersecting Orbits is a game for three players, two of whom play Orbiters sending messages back and forth and one of whom plays the Interference who intercepts those messages and removes words from them.

Using a deck of cards, the two Orbiters will try to communicate to each-other about something that is going on. Meanwhile, the Interference uses 2d6 to determine how many words of the message they can remove. You can probably use this method either by sending letters to each-other, or by writing e-mails or sending texts, so I think this game is definitely flexible in terms of how quickly you want to send messages to each-other, and how long you want the game to run.

Chronicle, by a.fell.

The world is coming to an end. It has been foretold, and so it shall be. We cannot stop it; we only wait, and observe, and recall.

This is a game to create a chronicle of a world, and to find the world again in the last seconds of its life. The game is different depending on which path you choose to take.

You will not play together. You might not play at the same time, or in the same place. You might not even know each other before you play this game.

When you play The Chronicler, you will play alone, across time, across worlds. There is foretelling that an end is coming. You are here to ensure that your life, your people, and your world, survive. The Witnesses will find your artifacts an unknowable amount of time later. They will observe, they will wonder, they will remember their own lives, and they will know you. The world they know is empty, and soon they, too, will be gone. But they will carry these moments with them.

Chronicle uses a tarot deck (or something similar) as an oracle, and requires some form of map for the Chronicler to add to. The Chronicler will draw from this deck to create the events, artifacts and messages from this world. Most of the Chronicler’s work is done by the time the Witnesses come into play, who will travel across the map, pick up artifacts left behind by the Chronicler, and use their own oracle decks to recall personal memories. Eventually, a cataclysm will fall, and the game will end.

Leaving Cambridge, by Nora Katz.

You were together once, a lifetime ago, in a place called Cambridge. It was a place you held dear—a place that you called home, even if just for a moment. But something strange or sinister happened, and now you are all gone, dispersed across countries, continents, and maybe even worlds. There are stories untold and things unsaid. This is your chance to say them.

“Leaving Cambridge” is an intimate, asynchronous storytelling game that takes place through letters exchanged between a group of people who have parted ways. Over the course of a real-life calendar year, a group of players write letters to each other, piecing together what happened to them, trying to reconcile their checkered pasts with their current realities. As the letters arrive, this group of people will come to understand each other, and themselves, with more clarity—and, most likely, more questions.

Leaving Cambridge is a setting-agnostic game, so you can set it at any time period and any technology level, as long as it is possible that all of the players at some point went to Cambridge together.. What remains true is that you were once friends, but you have since grown apart. You will draw from a deck of cards, with red cards reflecting memories you share and black cards representing your emotions. Writing will happen over four seasons, with an inciting reason for you to get back in touch with each-other, and generative prompts that encourage your characters to reveal pieces of themselves the longer that they write.

I’d Also Recommend…

When I Lived Here, by a grumpy little critter.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #epistolary games #indie ttrpg

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whoiwanttoday · 1 month

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So not last Friday but two Fridays ago was National Paranormal Day, something I didn't know existed and there is a joke here about it not actually existing no matter how much some people abuse the scientific method to prove it does but I won't go down that rabbit hole. The point is that night I had a friend who made me aware and asked me to watch something Paranormal but I was busy so I didn't. They watched The Amityville Horror, a truly bad movie that was also part of a massive pop culture phenomena. It's a thing I am fascinated by because I am always interested in ideas that infect society and I wish I could have been there to feel it. To see if it felt like everyone believed there was a haunting in Amityville or not. If you don't know the story you can look it up but it's been pretty thoroughly debunked over the years, though of course there are still true believers, but it was a best selling book that lead to a massive hit movie that has lead to an official movie franchise and an unofficial one that has spawned combined hundreds of movies. You think I am exaggerating but I promise you I am not. Since Amityville is a real place as long as you don't call it the Amityville Horror anyone can make a movie and put Amityville in front of it and suddenly you have a movie sure to make money on streaming. It's how you get things ranging from Amityville Island and Amityville Vampire to Amityville Dollhouse and Amityville in Space. Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about Amityville but rather how I didn't watch it Friday night. But it put it in my head so I finally did watch it again, it's a not very good movie but one that has always been part of my life because it was just… always sort of there as a kid. On TV a lot, someone always had a VHS copy recorded off of cable somewhere. So I have seen it many times and the bright spot has always been Margot Kidder because she's the bright spot in a whole lot of movies. She has this moxie and charm about her that comes out in a very specific 70's Liberated Lady way that you don't see anymore. It's so era specific, a backbone and some spunk mixed with a world weariness and the fact that she has seen more than you have. It's why she was a pitch perfect Lois Lane but she is also in a few horror movies and one of them I deeply love she is the best part in, which is high praise cause Black Christmas is awesome. Anyway, I feel like I was intellectually aware she must be an attractive woman cause she's in movies and stuff but she was first and foremost Lois Lane to me as a kid and I couldn't sexualize Lois Lane. Guys, it turns out I can sexualize Kathleen Lutz. I dunno what it is, 4k resolution, getting older, some third thing you can feel free to tell me about in the comments below but man, she is gorgeous. Just so absolutely beautiful and I felt a little dumb that I hadn't fully registered this. Like I knew but I was embarrassed for my loins that they hadn't done their job and made me lust after her previously. They usually don't drop the ball like this. Anyway, in ultra high def I am here to tell you her face is a marvel. And you pair that with the sort of verve Margot Kidder always brings to the screen and I was smitten. To the point I was like, "Did anyone else notice how hot she is in this movie?" Guys, they did. My favorite review I found online was from a woman that said, "You'd think this movie would make me wary of ouija but now we're digging up the board to ask Margot Kidder to be our third". I get it. Today I want to fuck Margot Kidder.

#Margot Kidder #brunette #Actress #retrocrush #whoiwanttofucktoday

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witchhuntress · 2 months

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Random Midnight Ghost Hunt Thoughts

So I said earlier morning yesterday that SPR gang is well-rounded found family, and to further elaborate on that, I’m going to word vomit about how it’s such an awesome group of ghost hunters. Everyone has something to bring into the table:

Bou-san -> Buddhism

Ayako -> Shintoism/Doctor

Masako -> Mediumship/Sort of Shamanism

John -> Catholicism

Lin -> Onmyoudou (or, more aptly, Taoism)

Naru -> Parapsychology/Psychic Researcher

Mai and Yasuhara are like the odd ones out, but Mai can be considered a budding psychic researcher too. Yasuhara isn’t a psychic but he can offer some smart & out-of-the-box opinions, so he can be the objective mediator. The beauty of this found family is that they managed to bridge the gap between different set of religious & paranormal beliefs into a working relationship where everyone’s different skills complement one another. Everyone is given ways for their exorcisms and or abilities to shine. And they all nurtured respect for one another’s skills/beliefs as time goes by.

Naru with his empirical method also helps ground the group in a way that there is balance. He’s there to question people’s perception & beliefs as well as test them and how they hold up. Mai is already perceptive and observant, and she works very well to complement Naru’s different perspectives as well as challenge everyone’s biases with her intuition.

Oh and actually there’s one thing Mai can be a good source of: URBAN LEGENDS. When we were first introduced to Mai, it’s clear she likes horror storytelling & is very good at it. Throughout the series, we can tell that she’s very knowledgeable about horror stories and the occult. It’s a pastime, but with that, it’s also a solid start for psychic research; she already has the curiosity and interest for the paranormal. Adding theoretical knowledge that Naru brings, it’s like an ontological process for her.

Overall, our beloved SPR gang is a jackpot gathering in itself because it’s like a team of geniuses at some point, cracking the hardest paranormal cases in Japan. Just can’t help but further appreciate Ono-sensei’s creativity as well as radical(?) view of having an inter-religious dialogue in the form of characters in a light novel back in the 1980s. Until now, I don’t think there’s ever been a story as accepting of different religious & paranormal beliefs as Ghost Hunt tbh.

And that’s why it lives in my mind rent-free too XD

#ghost hunt #ghost hunt manga #ghost hunt stuff #i love them so much #mai taniyama #kazuya shibuya #oliver davis #naru #Ayako Matsuzaki #Houshou Takigawa #Bou-san #Koujo Lin #Yasuhara Osamu #Masako Hara #John Brown

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moonlightdancer26 · 10 months

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rant abt james for me bc i hate him with a burning passion

thank you my luv it’s been a while since I made an anti James post 😘

(@ my beautiful followers, if you like James this post ain’t here for you <3)

Aight, let’s get to work:

I honestly can’t understand why people love James so much. Like, I get thinking “oh I wish we could’ve seen more content of James/the Marauders” is okay bc the Marauders era is one of the most interesting things about the series……. but having a whole ass FANDOM for him when he literally didn’t even have 20 whole lines in all 7 books and basically being a plot device with zero relevance?? And then attacking and acting superior to fans who like the original series?? Where did all this audacity come from? 😭

Also?? The longest scene we see with James in it has him choking someone with soapsuds (aka waterboarding.. which is a known torture method), harassing and blackmailing the girl he likes, threatening to hex her when all she was doing was defending her friend, AND SEXUALLY ASSAULTING ANOTHER BOY FOR NO REASON (oh sorry hold on I remember, the reason was bc “he exists” and “Sirius was bored”). I genuinely cannot fathom how people can read all that and then think “oh yeah James was def a good guy, anyway Snape totally deserved it.” Every scene we see (emphasis on see, I’m not relying on James’s best friend to simply tell us how “awesome sauce” he was 🤷‍♀️) James in has him being absolutely awful just for the hell of it, JKR really thought she could have one of his besties say “oh well he actually kinda deflated his head a lil bit so it’s oKaY Harry” and then get away with it 💀

Anyway, not only does James suck, but he’s also ✨Irrelevant.✨ He ✨serves no purpose.✨ He ✨has no character.✨ He ✨is a plot device.✨ He ✨was dead a decade before the series began.✨ He doesn’t even have an interesting backstory or any interesting factors, he was literally just an asshole who boned Lily and got his ass murdered by Voldy. I don’t even care if Severus was worse than him or not, at least Sev was INTERESTING, at least he had an actual personality. James serves no purpose in the story besides being Harry’s father.

That’s all for now, I can yell in DMs if you’d like.

#anti james potter #hot damn that tag looks good on my posts #anti marauders #anti marauder stans #anti marauders stans #anti marauderfen #anti marauders stan #harry potter #hp

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sansblues2 · 4 months

Text

The cards:

Hello again! I didn't tell you but I went through a lack of motivation phase. I'm better now but it was really bad at the beginning of this year, I didn't feel like drawing anything and what I did draw felt lifeless, like it was missing something. At the same time, the last chapter of Samatfoe part 4 came out, and wow, that was an awesome chapter. I loved how Sílthéy appeared, narrating the scene and her entrance, I found it so creative. And Toffee's backstory, I actually got emotional on the part where Sílthéy described the events that led to Toffee's parents and brother's deaths. For some reason I still believed Glossarick didn't have anything to do with what happened to Toffee, until this chapter, even though it was clarified since the beginning that he was the bad guy, I think I was still associating him with Glossarick from the original series who, at least in the beginning, was good. Anyway, great chapter, it was an amazing way to finish this part of the series and I can't wait for the next and to see Sílthéy again. Now going back to the drawing, I wanted to make something big, and somewhat detailed to see if I could motivate myself again, so after I read Samatfoe's last chapter I couldn't stop thinking about the characters' reactions at the end of the story, the mixed feelings they were feeling, betrayal, anger, confusion and I wanted to illustrate that, but I didn't want to just draw their expressions. And then I remembered the drawing @sagesilentfire had posted before the chapter update and I thought, " That's it. That's what I want to do". So this drawing is supposed to be the aftermath of the events, how everybody was feeling at the end of it, I tried to use some symbolism here and there in the cards. I'm not sure if I was able to capture the emotions of every character, but I did my best. Just to clarify some things, in Marcie's card that cape is supposed to be the one Marco receives in one of the episodes(can't remember which one), I don't believe Marcie also received one but it is just to represent Mewni, her armor is also one that Marco uses in another episode. Meteora's dress is the one she was going to use in the coronation, I just took Meteora's dress in the original episode and added some details based on Eclipsa and Star's dresses from the same episode. I even put the little bow she uses on her tail. Star's dress is based on her butterfly form(which is beautiful. I love how chaotic and vibrant it is, it fits so much with Star). Also, this is the second time I draw a wheelchair, you can barely see under Star's very fluffy dress, but I hope what you can see looks good. To finish, I also used this drawing to put into practice some new methods in how to draw things, like blood, crystals, tears, and flames, and how to do different renderings and different expressions, and I think I learned a lot with it. This drawing took a long time to make. It is the biggest drawing I've ever made with 125 layers only for the cards, so I really hope you like it. See ya ❤️.

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #samatfoe #star butterfly #moon butterfly #eclipsa butterfly #marcie #meteora #toffee #glossaryck #sílthéy #fanart #tw blood

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konniesreality · 11 months

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I ask for some reassurance. please. ive been here and have had such a bad void and affirming stage. i got rid of those obsession and it’s been almost 2 years since I found out about the law. every time since I learned about states or even during affirming, I would tell myself the 3D would change at some point. i wasn’t accepting it as something permanent even before I read a neville book, shouldn’t something have changed? im freaking out bc I turn a certain age soon and people say it’s supposed to be a fun time in my life but I have no friends. I work a stupid 9-5, i don’t go to college, I just want to revise my age or BE SOMETHING already. i wanted to wake up in the void and be my desired age, be in my desired college, have my desire group of friends. I let go of the need to wake up in the void but even without that, I always ALWAYS told myself that it’s okay it’s not always going to be like this, soon the 3D will conform so why hasn’t it? I tell myself that to reassure myself and then I know it’s a fact in my 4D. idk what to do atp. im scared I’m wasting my life on this. on loa but I keep going anyway. I read edwardart I read neville I fulfill myself when I want to, I imagine to experience and not to get it in the 3D but I can’t help but notice time passes at some point, I can’t blame myself for that.

Woah, I understand where you are coming from. Now listen this isn’t a race. I know you said, “I wasn’t waiting for the 3D to change” but you kind of do want the 3D to change. You’re supposed to fulfill yourself as if you already have it. Play pretend, the game is easy. You’re subconsciously waiting for something to happen when in reality, it already did.

The past, present, and future don’t matter. No matter what happens in the 3D, you already have friends and all of the things you want. The 4D is the only real reality. You don’t need to feel happy all the time when thinking of your desires. Just notice that it’s there. You should try this meditation out for manifesting. There’s great success with it!

And also, tough love but, if you really were fulfilling yourself, you wouldn’t be in my inbox saying how it’s not working for you. You would be fulfilling yourself knowing you have it all. That it’s yours.

About the void state, I really don’t know why this state is so over complicated. Here are the basic steps that you should take and RUN. Don’t read anymore void posts, don’t read all of the success stories. Here are the basic steps and go with it.

1. Lay in any comfortable position of your choice.

2. Breathe in and out at your own pace. Take deep breaths and focus on the sound of air rushing in, or focus on the feeling of air coming in. It’s okay if your mind wanders, just go back to your breathing.

3. When you have no thoughts or aren’t thinking of something specific, affirm for the void. Focus on the affirmations and hear yourself saying them.

4. You should feel symptoms but DON’T FOCUS ON THEM. They are just symptoms, and if you don’t get symptoms, it’s still working. Common symptoms are floating, flying, and feeling hot or cold.

5. Don’t focus on time, then you should be in the void state. Some people say it takes them hours, but that’s because they focus on time too much. In all honesty it should take 10 minutes or less.

6. Affirm for your desires and leave the state when you feel ready.

The void is nothing but a relaxation state that we enter when we sleep, we just aren’t aware of it.

You can also do the SATS/lullaby method, affirm for your desires in the wish fulfilled state as if you have it, then fall asleep in the wish fulfilled state. Or you can visualize them instead. Or you can just vaunt about your desires!

Now you’re right, it’s not your fault that the 3D punches you in the face with circumstances, and it seems like you are very stressed. I recommend doing a meditation like this one or check out their channel, they have awesome meditations. Now when something bad in the 3D happens, take a deep breath and go back to your desired state.

You deserve all happiness in this world, I am rooting for you anon. 💗

#ask #void state #manifesting

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twotangledsisters · 6 months

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You’re awesome for posting fic updates not only consistently, but daily! Any tips for keeping up with writing?

Thank you so much! I love updates and writing being a part of my routine and I'm glad other people enjoy it too!

And sure, I can think of some tips:

First, there's a mixture of inspiration and forcefulness. I remember when I was really little I read a post somewhere about how if you want to take something seriously, you have to take it seriously on the days when you're inspired and on the days you're not. That changed how I treat art forever!

But years and years later I learnt a more important lesson, to never overlook the power of inspiration.

It's through a mixture of both that I can really keep up with writing. If I only wrote when inspired, sooner or later I'd get a loooong writing block that would leave me simply paralysed. But I'll often do the 'just one chapter' method, and often writing just a few paragraphs will get me back into the flow. But if I'm still very blocked after a chapter, that's fine.

But if I am inspired, I will follow that. Even if it takes my story in weird directions that weren't planned! A good example is that Caine rescuing Cass in the final S1 fic wasn't planned, she wasn't planned to come along in S2 and certainly did not expect her to fall in love... A lot of their scenes came from me writing while inspired.

Now, stuff such as Eugene's near death in S1 finale, the way Koto framed him, the way Cass had to deal with accusations of witchcraft, those stuff were planned way ahead of time!

It's really important to keep that balance, to have plans and also leave room for inspiration to run wild!

An added bonus, if you feel an intense desire to go write a fic that's completely different to the one you're trying to work on, just let inspiration win. I was struggling a bit with the 'Day of Animals' arc in tangled sisters the other day, then I got the urge to do a little Cass oneshot, so I wrote the oneshot in one sitting and have had zero issues writing since.

Sometimes you can unblock writing block with MORE writing! As long as you're letting inspiration guide you.

Second is to take breaks! I update every day but I do not write every day. I write a few times a week and usually have at least one really long session!

One of my currently updating fics 'Always By Your Side' I wrote half of it in like a week, took a few months break, then wrote the rest and started publishing!

Sometimes long breaks can really help. I've taken several long breaks with Tangled Sisters.

Third is stay ahead. With 'Always By Your Side' I have it completely written so I just proof read on the day of upload. Tangled Sisters I keep track of in Notion:

Look how cute my fanfic section is!

I'm usually at least 30 chapters ahead but I did take a writing break recently. Soon as I get the next arc done I expect to be well ahead again.

Fourth, motivation! This one isn't entirely your control, but a huge factor for keeping up is just that I'm super motivated! I can thank the amazing people who comment every day, those who comment occasionally, those who leave kudos or send nice asks like this one!

It does sooo much to make me smile and excited for the stories I'm telling.

And if you look at my fanfic section of notion, I have that little box titled kind words, the content actually changed every time I reload the page, it's linked to a little table where I keep track of all the kind words regarding my fics that I've gotten on Ao3 and tumblr! (I also have several bits of fanart by the amazing @rebecagpfs in that page who I cannot thank enough!!!)

So, although you don't have full control over motivation, having a notebook to collect those kind words can help!

Fifth would be talk to people. Have at least one person who's cool with spoilers cause brainstorming is just easier with somebody else! For me @the-writer1988 has got me through sooo many writer's blocks! Often times I just ramble at her until the problem resolves itself, other times it'd be a more active back and forth. But writing friends supporting each other, always great!

And hey, to anybody who wants to ramble about their fics to me I'm always open! I love hearing about people's fics and am huge on the writer supporting writers sorta mentality!

Sixth is just have fun! If you enjoy what you're writing it's going to be sooo much easier than if you don't.

I do want to point out though, every writer's different! I can sit down and write 10k words in one sitting, but a lot of people can't, just like I need five hour to do a drawing many artists can do in an hour.

Writing is an art and you get faster with experience.

Also, I do daily updates because I adore consistency! Having that routine is amazing for me and I think it's lovely for some readers. But I also accomplish that via very short chapters! Sometimes as short as just 600-700 words. Many authors opt for longer chapters that upload weekly but there still writing the same amount!

So yeah, I do hope this helped!

Thank you so much for the ask :D And if anything didn't make sense, please tell me, it's almost 1am here I just noticed but I really wanted to answer this before bed!

#ask answered #writing tips #writing advice #writing tip #writing trick #write consistency #writing resource #writing resources

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megamindsecretlair · 10 months

Text

It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 5

Chapter 4 Chapter 6

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. Cursing, SMUT. Unprotected PIV (wrap it!), fingering fem receiving, dirty talk, pet names, possession kink, cum play. Angst. Dom Sam, some fluff. Sorry if I missed some!

Summary: You are the front desk clerk who started a few months ago and you have a major crush on Sam Wilson, the handsome and sweet trauma counselor. You spend the night with Sam. But in the morning, reality comes crashing in.

Word Count: 3,641k

Masterlist

A/N: Whew, I am just loving this series with each new chapter. They're so cute, they make me sick. LOL. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @wanniiieeee @hidden-treasures21 @targaryenvampireslayer @leahnicole1219

After a short nap, you and Sam spent all night teasing and kissing each other. In between kisses, you’d talk more about places you wanted to visit and things you wanted to see. He had ordered food, not wanting to spend a minute out of bed longer than he needed to.

Now that you two had crossed that line, there were no more barriers. He’d touched you just because he wanted to; because he wanted his skin on yours. You’d find little ways to pick at him and hug him and poke him.

After dinner, you two had snuggled up and watched TV. It didn’t even matter what you threw on. You talked through the whole thing anyway. Sam told you more stories about the good days he had in the military.

“You sure you don’t miss it?”

Sam shrugged. He rubbed circles on your hip as he thought about his answer. “Yes and no. I like that no one’s screaming in my ear or telling me what to do. I miss being on a team though. I miss the bonds, the camaraderie. Fighting for a common goal,” he said.

You nodded and played with his arm. “Do you ever call up your buddies? Get together?”

“After Riley died, no one really had the heart to keep the group going. We’ll meet up every few months to make sure everyone is still breathing but that’s about it,” he said.

“Sounds like you should call them,” you said and smiled at him.

“I probably should. I can say that I’m glad I’m out. I got to meet you,” he said.

“You’re so corny,” you said and poked him in the arm. He laughed and squeezed your hip.

“I’m serious!”

“That’s what makes you so corny!” You said.

“Oh that’s how it is?” He asked. He started to tickle you and you squealed, trying to get away from him. He pinned you beneath him and you struggled trying to buck him off. He only chuckled and gripped your wrists a little tighter. He held both to the mattress, on either side of your head.

“No fair. You cheated,” you said and pouted.

“I play dirty, better watch me,” he said.

He hovered above you. He stared and started to lean down, capturing your lips in a sinful kiss. The kiss was slow and methodical. As if the world stopped and the only thing that mattered was only your lips pressed against his.

You were both still naked and his body slid against yours. He was so smooth and smelled so damn good. Even after all the moving and rubbing you had done earlier. He smelled like him and sex and bright spring. It was a concoction you could find yourself getting used to.

His dick pressed against your thigh and you could feel it getting thicker, heavier, as it twitched against you. You moved your hand to cup him and he groaned. You fondled his balls and depending on how he sighed or moaned, you quickly learned how to please him. If you squeezed and rubbed just…right…

Sam jerked and put his hand over yours to stop you. You broke the kiss and pouted, looking at him with big doe eyes.

He chuckled and huffed. “You’re gonna get me in trouble doing that,” he said.

“I just want to please you,” you said.

“You already do, little one,” he said.

Your eyes widened with pleasure before you slapped at his shoulder. He laughed and half rolled off of you so that he wasn’t crushing you. You missed his warm embrace instantly. You wanted him to crush you. To give you all of his weight. You wanted him like your own personal weighted blanket. To stuff all of the big emotions back into you and keep you grounded. If you could still breathe, there was a serious issue.

“You are not going to let me live that down, are you?” You asked.

“Not a chance,” he said. He kissed your cheek and nuzzled his way to your neck. He licked the sensitive spot under your ear making you curl even tighter against him. He kept licking that area and you fidgeted. It was both ticklish and erotic at the same time and you didn’t know how to cope.

He brought his hand up and started to pluck your nipples. You hadn’t thought they were that sensitive. Your past lovers hadn’t paid that much attention to them and it didn’t cross your mind to ask them to.

But when Sam played with them, it was like they were the most sensitive things on your body. Every pluck and twist sent bursts of desire straight to your pussy, making you contract and get wetter by the second.

Sam moved his tongue down your neck and you moaned, enjoying the feeling of him surrounding you and all of your senses.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy. I hope you know that,” he said against your neck. He leaned up to look you in the eyes as he played with your other nipple.

“I don’t think I heard right the first time. Maybe you should tell me again,” you said.

He grinned and tugged on your nipple, eliciting a hiss from you. “Smart ass.”

His entire hand encompassed your titty. He kneaded and massaged it and before long, you were squirming.

“Sam…” you said. You couldn’t stand it. You needed his hand and attention elsewhere.

“Yes?” He asked innocently.

“I need you inside me again,” you said. There was no reason to be shy about it. Not with someone as wonderful as Sam.

“No,” he said.

You scoffed and your eyes flew wide. You gaped at him and he chuckled. He leaned down and sucked on one nipple. “I wanna play with these a little longer,” he said.

You groaned. Because his mouth was wet and hot and every time he breathed out, it fanned over your wet nipple. It beaded under his attention and you couldn’t lie still.

“Stop moving, little one,” Sam demanded. He used a rougher, deeper tone and your body stilled. He caressed your cheek for half a moment before trailing a finger down your chin, down your neck, in between your breasts.

Your skin pebbled. Goosebumps broke out where he touched. The air conditioner blasted cold air into the room, further blowing air over your nipple. It was cold and puckered. Sam looked at you greedily. Hungry. Like he didn’t know which part he wanted to eat first.

He drew a wide circle on your belly, over your stretch marks, dipping lower but not going past your belly button.

“Tease,” you told him.

He smirked but there was no humor in his eyes. This was a completely new side to him. When you first met him, you thought he was cute but safe. There was nothing wrong with being safe and it’s not like you were looking for someone toxic. But from the way he dressed, he just screamed that he was chill. Easy going. Quick to laugh, slow to temper. Dependable. A stickler for rules and disciplined enough to jog every morning.

But the look in his eyes right now was dangerous. This was a dangerous man. The type that would have you speaking in tongues, jumping up to cook him breakfast, and massage his scalp while he played video games.

He moved his hand lower, into your damp curls, and played with your clit. He kept his eyes trained on you as he teased your little nub, drawing out breathy moans from you. He removed his hand and licked his finger. Licking you off of him.

You watched him do it. His finger disappeared inside of his mouth and you never wanted to be a finger so badly. He moaned around the taste of you on his tongue and you sighed with need.

“Open up for me,” he said.

You opened your legs and he played with your thighs as he brought his hand back down to tease your clit. He ran his fingers up and down your seam before getting his finger wet on your arousal. He pushed his finger inside your pussy and you whined.

He kept eye contact as he finger fucked you. There was no way you could cum again, right? But the way he stared at you was intoxicating. You also weren’t used to so much eye contact in the bedroom. It started to make you wonder what kind of buffoons you had been taking to bed.

If all it took was a little eye contact and a little attention to get you going, you needed to get out more. Or get under Sam more. You almost laughed at your joke but his finger was pumping in and out of you.

Sam watched your face through it all. The way you would whimper when he drew his finger out and the way you sighed when he put it back in. He added a second finger and you sighed louder. Your hips rocked trying to suck his fingers in deeper.

“You need it a little deeper, don’t you, little one?” He asked.

You nodded. “A lot deeper,” you said.

“You need me to fill you up, don’t you?” He asked. He brought his head down to kiss and lick on your nipple. You jerked from the heat of his mouth against the coldness of your skin.

“Fuck yes,” you said.

He crooked his fingers in a come hither motion and your hips jerked off of the bed. Your jaw dropped in a soundless scream. Your breathing turned ragged as he unlocked some code. He increased his pace while his lips kissed slowly across your titties.

Your breathing was ragged and broken and sputtering before you were cumming on his fingers. You jerked and moved and writhed beneath him but he didn’t stop licking your nipple and he didn’t stop stroking that miraculous spot inside of you.

One orgasm barely stopped before another one started to roll over you. You pounded weakly against his shoulder as the sensations were too much to handle. He slowed his fingers as you recovered from back to back orgasms. You saw stars in your vision as you stared at his ceiling.

“Fuck, that felt too good,” you said. You grabbed his head and made him kiss you. Made him wrap his sexy lips around yours and you played with his tongue.

“What, you think I’m done with you?” He asked against your lips. He kissed you again before climbing on top of you.

He ran his cock through your dripping wet folds before sliding into you in one fell swoop. Your moans matched as he worked his way inside. You wrapped your legs around his waist. The heels of your feet dug into the top of his ass as he started to move quicker inside of you.

You felt every last inch of him. The thick head of his dick hit deep within you. You cried on every slide in. He braced himself on one hand while he used the other to push down on your stomach so that you felt him from both sides. He pushed a little harder and stroked a little deeper.

“Fuck, Sam. Fuuuuck,” you moaned.

He kissed your titties and then licked a hot trail up to your neck. “Love it when you say my name like that. The faces you’re making, gorgeous. You’re gonna have me living inside of you if you keep it up,” he said.

You couldn’t muster up enough energy to laugh. He felt too good. And he was hitting it too good. He started stroking so fast, that the slap of your thighs on his echoed in his room. Your moans filled in the empty spaces and his groans reverberated off of his walls.

He started to curse as he slammed into you, over and over. You threw your head back and just listened to him.

You listened to his words. To his desperate cries. He was incoherent but you caught every other word. “Good…gorgeous…fuck…shit…just like that,” he stuttered. You listened to the cadence of his voice. Your hands gripped onto his forearm that pushed against your stomach.

He sounded and felt so incredibly hot, that your orgasm snuck up on you. You came with a loud curse. As if he was waiting on you, he came right after. He shot a thick load into you. You felt the spurts and your pussy convulsed as if trying to swallow it all. You’d be feeling this for days.

He panted as he half dropped on top of you. He kissed your breasts, your chest, your neck, and sloppily kissed your lips. “I could stay just like this forever,” he said.

You nodded. Then yawned. “Me too,” you said sleepily.

He chuckled and pulled out slowly. There was a wet, squelching noise as he left you and you groaned. You wanted him to put it back.

“You need some sleep, little one,” he said. Maybe you said that part out loud. Hell, you didn’t know.

Everything was fuzzy and dim as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Sam disappeared and you heard the sound of running water. He came into the room and gently cleaned you off with a warm washrag.

You smiled sleepily at him. “Thank you,” you said.

“Get some water before you sleep,” he said. He grabbed your hands and forced you to sit up. You grumpily groaned but that only made him chuckle. “Water, now.”

You sipped the water he handed you and you looked at him. He was standing proud and naked. Still a little hard. His cock jumped and he chuckled. “You make me want to go like fifty rounds in one night,” he said.

You giggled and put your head on his stomach. He stroked your thick, curly hair while you sipped the water.

When you were done, he tucked you into the bed. He turned off the lights and climbed into bed with you. He was a hot presence behind you and you snuggled into him, trying to steal it all.

He pulled the covers up more and wrapped his arm around your waist and his leg over yours. “I got you, little one. Let’s get some sleep. I’m still not done with you.”

To emphasize his point, his cock twitched in the crook of your ass. You didn’t know if you laughed or not. You were out like a rock.

***

You didn’t hear when Sam left in the morning to go jogging. But when he came back, he was panting and sweaty and he placed kisses on your cheek to gently wake you up. You hated being woken up. However, you were perfectly okay with being woken up for dick.

Sam knelt beside the bed looking like a damn snack. He was still sweaty from his run and looked damn good in a purple shirt. The sweat made it stick to him like a second skin. You stretched and he kissed your cheek.

“Food first,” he said. He must’ve seen the look in your eyes. You pouted, hoping he’d have mercy on you. He couldn’t wring that many orgasms out of you and not expect you to turn into a damn crackhead. A Sam fiend.

“You need your energy for everything I’m going to do to you,” he said.

Okay, that got your attention. You sat up a bit so that you could kiss him without being at an awkward angle. You played with his growing stubble. It was scratchy and rough and felt amazing on your palm.

“I’m starting to feel spoiled. Sex and food? I might as well move in,” you joked.

He chuckled. “I’ll get a key made for you today.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him again. He hummed and deepened the kiss. Maybe you could convince him to have sex before the food.

His doorbell rang and he hung his head and groaned. “Who the hell could that be?”

“You expecting someone?” You asked.

He shook his head. He stood up, gave you one last scorching kiss, and headed downstairs. You heard voices but they were too quiet to pick out any words. A few minutes later, Sam came up and he looked at you with a mixture of confusion, guilt, and frustration.

He told you that Steve was here. And so was the Black Widow, Natasha. Your eyes bugged out of your head. You were a grown woman, but somehow Steve being here while you were naked as the day you were born was embarrassing. It was like you got caught having sex by the principal. Or worse, your parents.

You got dressed quickly as Sam told you that he’d still make you breakfast. “It’s okay, I’ll grab something on the way home.”

“Let me at least take you home,” he said. The poor thing. He sounded so conflicted. You giggled as you slipped on your shoes. You got close to him and wrapped your hands around his waist.

You looked into his eyes until he calmed down and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I imagined today would go. But…they look like they really need help.”

“Hey, there’s no need to apologize. If Captain America shows up at your door, can you really turn him away? Isn’t that like treason or something?” You asked.

Sam chuckled but it didn’t sound happy. You leaned up and kissed him. “Seriously. It’s okay. I need to check and make sure my house hasn’t burned down while I was gone. Stay here. I’ll catch a ride and I’ll text you as soon as I get home.”

Sam sighed and placed his forehead against yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

You giggled. “Yes, you do. You’re amazing, Sam,” you told him.

Decent and dressed, you followed him downstairs. He was right. Steve and the Black Widow looked terrible. They were covered in soot and ash. Steve’s hair took on a darker hue underneath it all. The Black Widow was gorgeous but had bits of rock or plaster clinging to her red hair.

She smirked at Sam when she saw you enter the room. Your cheeks were on fire and you thanked the Lord for your dark skin. You gave an awkward wave. Steve’s eyes were wide and he looked between you and Sam.

“I’m sorry, Sam. Had I known…”

“It’s fine. Really. I should be heading out,” you said, “Nice to see you again, Mr.-Steve,” you said.

The Black Widow walked over and shook your hand. “Natasha,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? Me and Steve can circle the block a few times,” she said and wagged her eyebrows.

You groaned and hid your face while she grinned. Steve shook his head at her while Sam lightly chuckled.

“You two can use my bathroom to get cleaned up. I’m going to make sure she gets home safe,” Sam said.

Steve nodded and smiled at you. Natasha winked and gave you a subtle thumbs up while they headed upstairs. You ordered a ride while Sam walked you out and waited with you. He kept his arm around you, protective.

There was an ache growing in your heart at the thought of leaving him. It was silly. You had only been on a handful of dates. But it was like you entered an entirely new dimension at his house. And now you were stepping into the harsh light of the day and it sucked. You weren’t ready to leave him. You weren’t ready to leave his bed and leave his house and leave him.

You were both quiet as you waited, which was unusual for you. He rubbed your arm. Heat was picking up in the early morning but you were a bit cold. As if you left all the heat in the house, in Sam’s bed.

The car arrived and Sam checked that it matched the app. He opened the door for you and kissed you. “I’ll call you later, once I figure out what’s going on. Probably best to keep my houseguests between us,” he said.

You nodded. “Of course. I won’t tell anyone. Not even Ariel,” you said. You wanted to lighten the mood. You hated the somber underbelly of this moment. Sam should be smiling and joking and poking you. Instead, he held your hand and rubbed circles on it with his thumb.

“Text me when you get home safe, please. I mean it,” he said.

You tugged on his shirt to bring him closer to you. You kissed him, putting as much emotion behind it as you could. “I’ll be okay. Just make sure you’re safe,” you told him.

You couldn’t say much else because of the driver. But Sam understood what you meant. He knew that something was up with Steve and Natasha. Normal people didn’t show up like that, as if they had gotten into a fight with a chimney and nearly lost.

Sam finally let you go and you got into the car. He closed it behind you and waved. The driver took off and you looked at Sam as long as you could. Until he was a tiny dot in the distance.

You hated this. It felt like goodbye for some reason. And you hated it. It sat like congealed oatmeal in your stomach. You didn’t have anxiety as bad as your mother did. But right now, you kind of understood her. Something was off and you didn’t know what it was.

You only hoped that Sam knew what he was doing getting mixed up with Captain America and the Black Widow. They fought aliens. There was no telling what major disaster they were trying to stop now.

You prayed for Sam all the way home.

Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

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