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#it’s easier to have these all in one place with their sources instead of all over my desktop
diningchairs · 22 days
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BRANDON DUHAIME on the COLORADO AVALANCHE, 2023-24 season
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Me: I'm fine about my autism now btw, like I've come to terms with my fixated interests, limited tolerances and social inabilities. The alienation it brings is not ideal but it's just a reality I've gotta deal with now that I know it's just a part of who I am. I mean, it's not like an awkward conversation is gonna ruin anyone's life, is it? We'll both move on from it eventually. This is fine!
Also me: physically unable to watch beyond the first word of the first question of The Assembly because oh my god what if someone says something awkward or controversial or someone can't make themselves understood people are gonna get mad and scream about it online and I will freeze up and be stuck in the backlash forever I don't know how to handle conflict AT ALL let's just hide in the corner behind the sofa instead wait what if I became a hermit actually yeah yeah yeah that sounds good let's do that
#unresolved trauma? never even heard of her haha 😅#maddie debrief#that 2-minute intro/taster did nothing to calm me down either btw#I'm never comfortable around the types of shows where 'difference' becomes the core conceit of the premise#oh. so you've created a format dependent on making a socially alienated group face the social rules that made them alien in the first place#and then deriving your conflict from the 'natural contradiction' between the two?#sounds like the exact kind of conflict-seeking environment where I can let my normal guard down enough to meaningfully challenge#my deeply rooted feeling that people generally find me cumbersome to be around and mostly just tolerate my presence out of necessity#lovely that#(like i say I haven't seen the show#so idk if it is actually like that or if it's just the promo material stirring shit up as per usual#but as of rn I do not feel welcome in this room)#why does the 'we're not so different after all' always have to come at the climax and never the midpoint of the story?#why can we never find more than personal gratification in that realisation?#why do we always focus on the difficulty of coming to the realisation rather than the conflict of putting the realisation into *practice*?#I know why#it is because the human imagination is far more limited than we like to believe#and we find it hard to even *imagine* a world that we haven't seen functioning for ourselves yet#let alone find a purpose in *acting* on the idea#(especially if we ourselves currently feel dependent on the status quo for our personal welfare#which is why shows made to depend on 'difference = conflict' make my blood run cold)#so if we have to see to believe - how many cases of real world functioning equity does the average person understand?#very few. so let's instead lazily invert the state of power in an existing dynamic that people are familiar with#thereby reaffirming its false dichotomy through perpetuating what is essentially the same old conflict#while claiming to subvert it when in fact all we have done is reverse the dominance while keeping everyone locked in their roles#can someone just put some thought into how we might create a format that aims to loosen up the underlying skewed power dyanmic#so that everyone has to work together to prevent the elevation of a single way of being over all others#because that just becomes suffocating to *everyone* in the end#and that can still *acknowledge difference* but not as a source of conflict - rather as a source of collective strength?#but the story of changing one perspective will always be easier to both tell and enjoy than the one about building something new
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nykloss · 1 year
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Ditching D&D Beyond or never got it in the first place? Here's some free/pwyw resources.
Dicecloud. This online app allows you to make and track character sheets for free! It does a lot of the calculations for you, just like dnd beyond would. Best overall replacement. (Thank you, @chryslerisdead)
PWYW Class Character Sheets by Emmet Byrne. These character sheets in my opinion, are easier to fill out and harder to mess up, with class-specific features built-in. You can easily edit them digitally, and there's even multiclass/homebrew options. Slap em on Google drive or something, share with your DM, lots of options.
Point-Buy Calculator. Easily automates character stat creation if you're using the Point-Buy system.
5e Level Up Tool. Select your class, select your level, get a digestible checklist of everything you need to do to level up. This one is SO GOOD and so slept on.
5e Spellbook. A quick way to reference your spells and build a Spellbook with a ton of filters.
Encounter Calculator. I know challenge rating isn't everything, but this is a good/fast way to see how balanced your encounters are, at a glance, at least in the eyes of the source books.
RPGbot. Lots of resources for DMs and players: encounter builders, dpr calculators, and lists of player options with sample builds and optimization suggestions, which may be helpful to folks new to the game.
Bonus: Online Tools (System Agnostic)
Here.fm. This is the alternative I use instead of roll20, because it's faster/easier. Drag and drop in maps and tokens in seconds, built-in library of stickers you can use for effects, draw right on the virtual tabletop, use temporary drawings to map out moves, built-in dice rollers, and options for proximity chat. I use it in combination with discord (just have players join your here room muted), but it could be used entirely on it's own, I imagine. Not built for ttrpgs, but works incredibly well for them.
Kenku.fm. A PWYW mini browser focused on mixing and sharing music to your dnd games through whatever app you use, with helpful discord support. This app also LEGALLY bypasses the issue that got all the YouTube discord bots shut down, so you can share YouTube audio worry-free.
Additional Resources (Aka, stuff I found out about after I originally posted this):
flapkan. Holy shit, this might be the BEST character sheet option on this list! Form-fillable pdfs with fully automated built-in prompts to auto fill features and spells, built-in Point-Buy and other automated calculations, and it generates a lot for you. Can be used digitally or you can print!
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.
> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k
> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol
> in which masterlist!
note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.
“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”
“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”
you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.
“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.
“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”
“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”
the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.
you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.
burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.
the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.
you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.
you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.
will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.
you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.
“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.
fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.
“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.
the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.
“sorry… it was a reflex.”
“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.
you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.
you face him again with a flair of innocence.
“do you want a granola bar?”
he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.
“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”
his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”
you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.
“here you go.”
you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.
“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”
the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”
“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”
“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”
“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.
and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.
“i’m ___.”
he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”
jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.
“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.
“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”
“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”
“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”
“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”
“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”
“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.
the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.
“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”
“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”
you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”
“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”
“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”
the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.
“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.
you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.
“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.
in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.
“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”
your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.
“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.
”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.
“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.
you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-
“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”
and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.
“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”
he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”
why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.
but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.
you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”
“oh, okay.”
the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.
“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.
“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.
“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.
you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.
his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.
you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.
“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.
your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.
“you too, jungkook.”
his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.
you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.
what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.
Jungkook:
hey this is JK
i just thought of this now ?!..
trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)
you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”
“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.
“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”
his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”
he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”
cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.
“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.
you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.
jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”
you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.
“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”
your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.
“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”
“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.
you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.
“this is giving me déjà vu.”
“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.
“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”
his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”
“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”
his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”
“show me what?”
he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.
“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.
he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.
“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”
you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.
“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”
jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.
mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.
meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.
“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.
“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.
oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.
“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.
“aren’t you going to eat that?”
you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.
“i won’t.”
“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”
you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”
he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.
“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.
and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.
he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.
“want to hear something silly about that day?”
“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.
“do you know why i offered you my food?”
“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”
“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”
“my nails?”
you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”
“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”
“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”
“fuck, baby,” he sighs.
he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.
he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”
“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”
the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.
“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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fabaulti · 10 months
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I think most of us should take the whole ai scraping situation as a sign that we should maybe stop giving google/facebook/big corps all our data and look into alternatives that actually value your privacy.
i know this is easier said than done because everybody under the sun seems to use these services, but I promise you it’s not impossible. In fact, I made a list of a few alternatives to popular apps and services, alternatives that are privacy first, open source and don’t sell your data.
right off the bat I suggest you stop using gmail. it’s trash and not secure at all. google can read your emails. in fact, google has acces to all the data on your account and while what they do with it is already shady, I don’t even want to know what the whole ai situation is going to bring. a good alternative to a few google services is skiff. they provide a secure, e3ee mail service along with a workspace that can easily import google documents, a calendar and 10 gb free storage. i’ve been using it for a while and it’s great.
a good alternative to google drive is either koofr or filen. I use filen because everything you upload on there is end to end encrypted with zero knowledge. they offer 10 gb of free storage and really affordable lifetime plans.
google docs? i don’t know her. instead, try cryptpad. I don’t have the spoons to list all the great features of this service, you just have to believe me. nothing you write there will be used to train ai and you can share it just as easily. if skiff is too limited for you and you also need stuff like sheets or forms, cryptpad is here for you. the only downside i could think of is that they don’t have a mobile app, but the site works great in a browser too.
since there is no real alternative to youtube I recommend watching your little slime videos through a streaming frontend like freetube or new pipe. besides the fact that they remove ads, they also stop google from tracking what you watch. there is a bit of functionality loss with these services, but if you just want to watch videos privately they’re great.
if you’re looking for an alternative to google photos that is secure and end to end encrypted you might want to look into stingle, although in my experience filen’s photos tab works pretty well too.
oh, also, for the love of god, stop using whatsapp, facebook messenger or instagram for messaging. just stop. signal and telegram are literally here and they’re free. spread the word, educate your friends, ask them if they really want anyone to snoop around their private conversations.
regarding browser, you know the drill. throw google chrome/edge in the trash (they really basically spyware disguised as browsers) and download either librewolf or brave. mozilla can be a great secure option too, with a bit of tinkering.
if you wanna get a vpn (and I recommend you do) be wary that some of them are scammy. do your research, read their terms and conditions, familiarise yourself with their model. if you don’t wanna do that and are willing to trust my word, go with mullvad. they don’t keep any logs. it’s 5 euros a month with no different pricing plans or other bullshit.
lastly, whatever alternative you decide on, what matters most is that you don’t keep all your data in one place. don’t trust a service to take care of your emails, documents, photos and messages. store all these things in different, trustworthy (preferably open source) places. there is absolutely no reason google has to know everything about you.
do your own research as well, don’t just trust the first vpn service your favourite youtube gets sponsored by. don’t trust random tech blogs to tell you what the best cloud storage service is — they get good money for advertising one or the other. compare shit on your own or ask a tech savvy friend to help you. you’ve got this.
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cloudypariah · 4 months
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How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.
- The creation of the board (and its subsequent discovery)
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Summary: Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.
Pairing: Dark!Poly!Task Force 141 x fem!Reader
Word count: 1.8k
Content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate my work. No one has my permission to put my work into any AI source.
Notes: This is my first foray into the COD fandom and will be the first part in a dark comedy series. Please let me know what you think. Not proofread very well, sorry for any mistakes! Thanks for the motivation @live-love-be-unique !
Link to Task Force 141 masterlist / Link to COD masterlist
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Captain John Price likes to think he knows his men well enough to trust them when his back is turned. Now that itself doesn’t necessarily mean knowing each and every one of their dirty secrets - he definitely wouldn’t come out smelling like fresh daisies if any number of his were revealed - but it does mean that he has the awareness to recognise that they all share one particular secret.
He sees it in the way Lieutenant Riley’s body language shifts when you give him his medical forms to look over, your consideration at offering him the option to disclose only certain personal information making the reserved soldier relax just enough to offer you a low thanks, accompanied with a stare that stretches on for a few moments longer than considered socially polite.
It’s also so amazingly obvious with Sergeant MacTavish. John’s surprised everyone else misses the way Soap’s smile takes a little longer to fade after departing for yet another mission, your swift congratulations on completing yet another physiotherapy appointment - “ Keep it up the good work big guy” - leaving the Scotsman floating on cloud nine damn near until the plane lands.
And how could he forget Sergeant Garrick? The man’s quick to change his tune and focus up, but the captain has observed Kyle absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, thumb gingerly stroking the spot where your palm was only moments before, your figure long gone as you retreat down the corridor to where you came from.
No, Jonathan Price doesn’t miss a thing about his men. And it only takes two weeks and a long chat in the corner booth of the bar one quiet night - sans you or Laswell - before somehow his place becomes the meeting point for an unusual, though not unwelcome, topic - you.
More specifically, how to keep you.
The wooden shit box of a sports bar was where the first two facts were confirmed amongst them: 1. Every single one of the 141 men wanted you for themselves, but they weren’t above sharing. 2. You weren’t worth killing each other over, not when there was a much easier solution staring them in the face.
John’s house became the go-to place to discuss fact number three - They needed a plan.
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It was Gaz who initially suggested the whiteboard after numerous interjections from Ghost and John; from everything to how to keep this from Laswell, to deciding which of your usual hangouts would provide them with the best opportunity to commence your “relocation”, to how to delicately but firmly explain said "relocation" to you once it was complete. Kyle loves his brothers in arms and never regrets a moment where his life is on the line if it means saving any one of them, but his patience began to wear thin when Soap got bored and started using goddamn paper planes instead of words to get his point across. At that Price finally relented and bought the damn thing.
Now, John was expecting you to pop by his place on Wednesday night to drop some papers off. A perfect opportunity, were it not for the fact that the gentlemen were still disagreeing on where to relocate you. However, it’ll allow you to grow more comfortable with him while he has some alone time with you, your presence like a balm on a wound - soothing and necessary (at least to him).
He had been looking forward to seeing you… tomorrow. So when you turn up not just on the doorstep but in the middle of the bloody hallway in his own bloody home halfway through the 141 “guys night”, his secondary action of shitting bricks quickly overrides his primary instinct to eliminate the threat.
He’s on his way back from the bathroom when he sees you standing, familiar folders firm in your grasp - fucking hell, is that his spare key too? - and a sour expression on your pretty face.
Your eyes narrow further when you spot him, striding over with fury rolling off you in small waves. “Captain Price, I know you did not leave these dossiers on my desk just before the end of my work day with a note stating they all need to be completed by the end of the work day.”
John’s senses are briefly overwhelmed by you being so close to him, the sight of you angry having a different effect on him than what you had originally intended. He’s never seen it before, and his hand twitches when you’re less than a foot away - fluctuating adrenaline or the desire to reach out and hold you, he’s not sure which is more prevalent. 
He always forgets to not be so obvious around you, but it isn’t as though you usually notice. (He’s not sure if the thought should make him feel sad or grateful.)
The sounds of his men arguing in the background, merely the next room over, are enough to bring reality crashing down hard.
His voice is deliberately loud and stalwart when replies. “You can’t be here.”
“Tough shit. Your lads night can wait.” You lean past him to the origin of what your gut was telling you was the sounds of the remaining 141 members quarreling. It’s easy to slip past Captain Price once your mind is set, the push of files against his chest preventing him from reacting for a few seconds - all the time you need to move down the hallway to where everyone else is bound to be.
John is quick to rush behind you, the arguing noises having swiftly changed to near cartoon-like crashes just moments before you enter the room. 
Ghost has migrated to the corner of the sitting area, standing as stiff as a fucking nutcracker, a mountain of crumpled notes and paper planes spilling out from between his arms. (His mask is still on thank god because it’ll hide exactly how caught out he feels, and if there’s one thing Simon Riley cannot stand it’s feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar). His eyes instinctually watch your every move, waiting for your reaction.
Both of your gazes drift to the other side of the room, with neither of you failing to notice how the couch cushions are strewn widely across the space, (with one being stuck on top of a bookshelf for some odd reason) to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard.
Their demolitions expert is currently splayed out on the left side of the board and desperately grabbing the top of its metal frame, his stomach pressed into the cold porcelain and a left leg hitched up in a poor attempt to conceal the incriminating writing.
Price’s protégé is in a similar state. Dear Gaz has his back against the right side, with his arms outstretched to - much like Johnny - cover as much of their group planning as possible, a coloured marker clasped in each fist.
Two deers in headlights.
The sight of his task force is enough to bring back flashbacks of his original conversation with Kate about bringing these men together because Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck was he thinking?
There are a few moments when nobody moves or dares to breathe…
… except for you, of course.
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You waste no time walking over to the two youngest members of the 141 as you attempt to shove them off the board. “Move,” you demand, palms pushing firmly against their sides. “I want to know what’s so important to everyone.” When they refuse, you do your best to stare at them, pleading with a pleasantly soft, “Please.”
Yeah, they both do what you say with ease when they hear that, giving you enough space to take in the somewhat smudged scribbles.
You miss the signal John gives Simon, the Ghost moving closer to your position as John quietly locks the door, and when your attention is drawn back to the board after the other two move you also miss all of the knowing looks shared behind your back. This was very far from ideal, but how can they recover from this?
They hope you understand that whatever comes next, they didn’t plan for it to start this way.
Kyle and John call your name but you ignore them, still processing the information written in front of you.
Johnny flexes his hands, preparing for the worst as you step back and say, “This is… bullshit.”
Every single member stops. That was not the reaction they were expecting.
Turning to face the group, you scoff. “I’m not even kidding. Firstly, you’re using guys' night to work, which is horrible for your mental and emotional health. And you should all know better.”
Four sets of brows furrow in united confusion. You don’t let that deter you from continuing, your arms gesturing haphazardly at the whiteboard. “Secondly, this is hands-down one of the worst brainstorms I have ever seen. This is not cohesive in the fucking slightest. Garrick, mark me.”
Kyle chokes on his spit, his brain short-circuiting before he sees your fingers wiggling at one of the markers he’s holding. The sergeant promptly gives it to you.
Your free hand takes turns pointing at everyone else in the room, a verbal command of, “sit down” directed at each man also. Dumbly and cautiously they all do. Ghost places himself at the end of the couch nearest the entrance, John strategically chooses a spot between yourself and the kitchen, and Soap and Gaz sit closest to you, where the two of them can hear you muttering under your breath as you draw what appears to be a massive cloud shape in the middle of the board.
Once completed, you fill your shape in with the word ‘TARGET’ and slam your free hand against the board. No one flinches, but if one were to look closely there would be some eyes widening in response. Johnny swears he sees one of your eyelids twitch.
“So,” you call out, “what do we know about the target?”
There are not only wide eyes looking at you, there are full glances exchanged between your audience.
“Seeing as you had the nerve to not invite me in your little meeting while keeping me on overtime” - Kyle and John squirm at that, and your finger makes a little circle - “we are going to be working on this project together. With all due respect, I’m not asking.”
Surely not…
And it’s when Captain John Price reviews the writing left over from the others that he realises Kyle and Johnny did one thing right during their clusterfuck of a coverup.
They managed to erase your name.
… you have absolutely no idea you are the target.
 A piece of writing far in the coroner catches your attention, and your shoulders slump. “The target likes knitting and ‘The Karate Kid’. In another life we would have been the best of friends.” A dramatic sigh leaves you, “Oh well, at least I’ll be able to give you some insight into the mindset of this individual. Any questions?”
Four hands shoot up.
Rubbing your hands together with glee, a maniac smile grows on your face. “Excellent.”
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gemstone-roses · 5 months
Text
New Year’s Eve.
Eddie Munson x Reader.
Summary: Eddie overhears you turn down an invite to Steve’s iconic nye party, stating you categorically hate the holiday, so, he invites you to spend the evening with him in his trailer instead.
Warnings; SMUT, 18+ only, p in v MINORS BE FUCKING GONE FROM THIS PLACE , mentions of drug dealing., anxiety, praise kink, hurt/comfort vibes, the holy trinity of my fics. Like soo much praise kink, fingering! This took forever to write but I’m proud of it ok. This work and this blog is intended for adults only. I am not responsible for what content you consume.
A:N - I wanted to post one more fic before the end of the year, I hope you all like it! Thankyou for all the love on this blog this past year, I am so happy my fics have been a source of comfort for some of you, I’m so thankful for all the love. it’s been a tough one for many, including myself, here’s hoping the next is easier on rveryone. Much love to everyone ❤️❤️
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“what do you mean you’re not coming!” Steve asks with mock affront, standing at the door of your trailer, your leaning against the door, steaming mug of coffee, untouched, you give Eddie a wave as he leaves his place opposite, he sends you a wicked smile and a wink as he leaves to do his dealings of the day.
You shake your head and chuckle.
“Steve, every year you ask me, every year I say no, my answer hasn’t changed and it won’t” annoyance creeps into your voice unintentionally. Steve opens his mouth feigning hurt before breaking out into a smile.
“Sorry, I just haven’t had my coffee yet, but I hope you have a wonderful party Steve” you smile, and he nods “I understand, I just have to ask you know? Maybe this year will be the year you come”. “You’ve said that every year since we’ve known each other haven’t you” you chuckle, and he nods, swiping his hand through his hair. “Anyway, lots to do, I better be off, have a good night” he waves you off before getting back in his car. You bring your coffee to your mouth, finally. “Spending New Year’s Eve alone sweetheart”? Eddie appears from the side of your trailer, his face in a huge grin you can’t help but smile.
“Yes”. You say. Eddies brow furrows, as he steps into your doorway, his aftershave invades your senses as he places a caring hand on your arm” can’t have that darlin, I’ll be back at 5, come hang with me” he’s says it so casually but the sparkle in his eyes says he’s desperate for you to say yes. You weigh up your options in your head, you were just going to go to bed early and hide under your covers, but the man in front of you makes your breath hitch whenever you see him, and that mouth,god. “Yeah, okay”. You say. And you didn’t think it possible but eddies grin gets wider. “Just come over anytime after five sweetheart” his voice cracks at the end of his sentence and you have to do everything in your power not to groan. “Okay” you whisper. And then he’s gone, leaving you feeling empty without his presence.
5 o clock comes quicker than you thought. Swiftly slipping on a black band tee you pull on a pair of comfy joggers and head over.
The door swings open before you can even knock. “Hey darlin” his eyes are sparkling again as he steps back and does a theatrical bow to show you in. You laugh at his actions as he shuts the door behind you.
“So, sweetheart, you gonna tell me why you hate this holiday so much?” He steps closer to you, his eyes wide with interest. You frown, anxiety pooling in your stomach. “Hey” he says softly. Fingers coming to cup your chin. You look at him, his soft brown eyes make your insides melt slightly. “Did I upset you” he asks and it’s so sweet and unexpected you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “No, god no, I just, it’s silly” you trail off, looking down at the floor. “Not to me” Eddie says softly, and you look up and once more think you might get lost in those eyes. He’s got a reassuring smile on his face, waiting. “I get this impending and unrelenting feeling of doom okay” you whisper, then shut your eyes as if you can hide from the words you’ve said. Eddies fingers caress your face gently. “That’s not silly” he whispers, cupping your face with his big hand. You lean into his comforting touch. “Thankyou”. You whisper, lifting up your hand and placing it on top of his. “You have the most stunning eyes” he mutters before recoiling slightly as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Erm”… he rubs the back of his neck chuckling. “So do you” you say simply. “Ha, thankyou, sweetheart” he laughs awkwardly. The tension in the air hangs between you, you look at Eddie, he looks at you and you think this might be it but then his brows shoot up and he says “Oh my god I didn’t offer you a drink I’m a terrible host” he says suddenly, tripping over himself to get you a soda. “It’s fine! Don’t worry” you assure him. He mutters sorry while he hands you the can and leads you to his room. “So, what would you like to do sweetheart” his grin has returned, and even though he’s asked you you know he’s got something in his mind. “I don’t mind, film?” You say sitting down on his bed pulling your legs up. Eddie stares, completely lost in the moment, watching you do something so ordinary, and you take his breath away. “What?” You ask, burning under his stare. “You’re fucking beautiful” he states. Your heart stops in your chest, mouth falls open and you don’t realise he’s moved closer, he’s sitting opposite you, his hands on your knees, he’s leaning forward slightly, a mix of weed and his aftershave once again enveloping you. You meet his eyes, full of adoration for you, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips and you can’t tear your eyes away. “Can I- kiss you?” He asks and your heart soars as you nod, he crashes his lips to yours and you forget to breathe. The kiss is gentle but firm, he wraps his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him, one hand holds the back of your neck as he runs his long fingers up and down, sending shivers straight to your core. You moan and he stops, panting slightly, he keeps one hand at the back of your neck.
“Eddie” you breathe. “God your incredible” he says, swiping his thumb across your puffy lips, he leans into kiss your neck. He trails sloppy open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone, you writhe underneath him, each press of his lips causing your pussy to throb. “Eddie please” you moan.
‘What do you need sweetheart?” He mutters and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. “You” you plead, clenching your thighs together to get some, any, form of relief.
“Mm, say it again” he groans, fingers waiting at the edge of your joggers. “I need you Eddie” you moan, pushing your hips up to emphasise your point. Mischief dances across his face as he slowly removes your pants, smiling at the wet patch that’s formed in your panties. He taps his fingers across your clothed pussy, watching as your head falls back in both pleasure and frustration. He bends down, breath fanning over your clothed core. “I can’t wait to feel you come around my cock” he whispers, placing an open mouthed kiss over your dripping pussy, before hooking his fingers through your underwear and pulling them down.
Eddie leans over you as his fingers dance on your inner thigh, one hand bracing on the window behind your head. He bends his head, hovering his lips next to your ear” Spread your legs wider for me darlin” he groans, and then smiles as you do. “That’s it” he says, moving his hand toward your core. “So wet” he comments, pushing his finger inside your hole, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your clit. He moans as you clench around his finger instantly. “Mm fuck Eddie” you whine as he curls his finger inside you. He captures you in another kiss as he presses his thumb into your throbbing clit. “Ah, Eddie-“ you say, your orgasm fast approaching, he continues, alternating between circling and pressing on your sensitive button, pleasure begins to cloud your vision as he pumps his finger in and out of you, wetness dripping down your thighs.
“That’s it, good girl, come for me sweetheart” he soothes as your orgasm crashes over. He keeps rubbing gentle circles on your clit as you come down from your high, when you open your eyes he’s staring at you, awestruck. “You did so well for me” he praises and Eddie’s cock twitches in his pants watching your reaction to his words. “Eddie, that was amazing” you breathe, and he shoots a wicked smile at you that has heat flooding your body again.
“You okay”? He checks and you nod. “Drink this” he unscrews the cap on a bottle of water for you and places it to your lips. No one has ever bothered to be anywhere near as kind and considerate and your heart once again soars because of the man currently sitting between your legs. Eddie’s cock is painfully hard in his pants as he takes in your post orgasmic state. Sweat pooled on your face, your still panting slightly, come dripping from your pussy onto his bed, Eddie thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
You sit up and pull him into you, his clothed cock pressing into your naked core. He hisses at the contact. “We don’t have to, it’s completely okay if you want to stop darlin” and once again your falling hard, the softness in his voice makes you want to cry. “I don’t want to stop” you say and Eddie places a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling his pants down. His cock strains against his boxers, you reach out and tease the head with your hand. Eddie groans, it’s feral and he places his hands on your shoulders as he nips at your neck. “Lie down for me sweetheart”. Eddie removes his underwear as you do, He positions himself between your legs as you lie back, head hitting his pillow. You push up to see his hard thick cock springing up against his stomach, precum leaking from the tip, it makes your stomach flip and your mouth water. Eddie pumps his cock a few times before rolling a condom down his cock. Eddie pushes gently on your shoulders so you lie back down, he taps his cock a few times on your pussy causing you to moan unexpectedly. He positions himself at your entrance as his hand cups your face. “You okay?” He asks, waiting for your answer before he does anything. You nod, taking a deep breath as you prepare for Eddie to push into you. “Can you go slow?” You whisper, cringing slightly, hoping you didn’t kill the mood. Eddies face softens, “of course I can baby, it’s okay, I got you” he soothes softly, his other hand rubbing the inside of your thigh. His hand comes to circle your clit slowly. “Look at me” he says, and you do. The smile on his face is otherworldly, it brightens everything around you as he studies your face closely, rubbing gentle circles on your clit as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. “Breathe, baby” he comforts as your walls clench around him. “Eddie” you whine, “You’re doing so good for me” Eddie keeps praising you until his cock is nestled deep inside you. Eddie groans at the feeling of you wrapped around him. He stays put until you speak. “Move” you whisper.
Eddie thrusts into you slowly, one hand gently splayed across your lower stomach as he rocks his hips back and forth, your hands grip the sheets beneath you as Eddie’s cock reaches a spot inside you that makes your head spin.
“Mm eddie- you moan as your second orgasm builds, every nerve in your body tingling at his actions
“You feel so amazing clenching round my cock like this darlin, you’re takin me so well” he soothes, your pussy clenches at his words and Eddie moans as you squeeze his cock. “Fuck Eddie I’m gonna-
Eddie’s cock pulses as he feels you clench harder. “Eyes on me darlin” he whispers. You meet his gaze and your head clouds with pleasure again “Good, I got you, your okay, come for me baby, drench my cock, come with me, fuck!” he groans as your pussy tightens around him as you release around Eddie’s cock just as his own orgasm crashes over him.
Your ears ring as you hear muffled praise fall from Eddie’s lips, his touch grounding you as your mind clears. “You were incredible” Eddie whispers, drawing patterns on your hips with his fingers. You smile at the sight in front of you. “Eddie” you croak, voice hoarse. “Yeah darlin” he asks, and the sight of him, sweaty, curls stuck to his face, his face flushed with heat, you wish you could engrave it into your mind forever. “Can we stay like this forever?” You sigh. And Eddie chuckles before grabbing both your hands and fitting them in his. Forever sounds amazing with you”. He whispers, catching your lips in a heated kiss as fireworks light up the sky above.
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gogotti · 7 months
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Michael Myers/GN! Reader - NSFW
Here we go again with another Michael fic, this time it’s Kinktober and not just me horny posting on main LMFAO
This fic's prompt was Humping
WARNINGS: Michael humps you so nsfw, Michael pins the reader down but reader is into it. This is the tamest thing I’ve written in months so there’s not much else I can add warning wise.
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It wasn't often that the massive man who occupied your home needed something from you other than basic necessities, but it was a nightmare trying to figure out when he did. Michael didn't talk and didn't bother trying other ways of communication, so he was basically a brick wall that moved around and routinely demanded food from you. Most days, when he'd decided that he wanted to be difficult, you'd struggle endlessly trying to figure out what he wanted, but this time you tried something different. Your plan was to give him a list of all of the things you could offer him at the moment, and then get him what he needed, simple enough. You went through the entire list, even adding things onto the list that you didn't even want to do, just to not get any response from him. After the second attempt, you didn't even bother anymore, instead staring at him in silence. He still didn't acknowledge you at all, not even by tossing an unopened piece of candy in your face like he normally would have. To say you were confused was an understatement, and you couldn't help but let fear crawl up your spine.
You didn't think he was sad or anything since he wouldn't be sitting on your couch clean if that were the case, and if he were hungry he would have already picked you up from your spot at the other end of the couch and placed you in front of the fridge. You slowly scooched over to him, keeping a safe distance just in case he was in one of his choking moods.
“Michael? You okay?”
Obviously, he didn't respond, and a part of you wanted to go back to your comfy spot and relax again, but you knew whatever his problem was would become a you problem if left alone. You reached out to touch his shoulder and Michael quickly took the opportunity to grab at your wrist and use his strength to twist you around and lay you flat on your stomach. You could only sigh uncomfortably, letting him adjust you to his liking before resting his body weight on you. You couldn’t stop him, you could only let your eyes widen slightly as you felt the source of his problems rest on your ass.
“oh.”
He huffed at you, grabbing your waist and seemingly feeling things out for a while. He didn't make much noise as he did this and only seemed to get impatient since he couldn't properly help himself. You sat in silence for a moment, contemplating whether or not to help him or let his frustration get the better of him, which would most likely end up with someone's dead relative on the news the next moring. You sighed again, you were not going to let innocent people die all because the infamous Michael Myers couldn’t figure out how to hump you properly. 
You arched your back, trying to angle yourself into a good position to make things easier for him. You succeeded in this, as the next time Michael grinded against you he let out the shakiest of sighs. You couldn't help but feel accomplished as he quickly found a rhythm; you also couldn't help the fact that with every low groan Michael let out above you, you felt a shock of pleasure hit you where it counts.  
He suddenly repositioned, now using one hand to grab onto your hip tightly and the other was placed above your head for stability. He picked up the pace as he humped you, the change in stance now giving him the friction he needed, and you could hear how much he enjoyed it. Low groans, grunts, and occasional growls left his mouth and left you a silent mess. You didn't know he would be so noisy but you couldn't care less, as every sound that spilled from his mouth you happily relished in, letting your mind wander to places you wouldn't have dared think about before this moment. 
You felt his humping become sloppy, and listened to his groans turn into huffs as he got closer to cumming.  Suddenly, he came crashing down on top of you, his arms now positioned above your head and his body completely engulfing yours, still humping you desperately as he almost silently whimpered at the feeling.
Once he stopped moving, he breathed heavily above you, and you relaxed your body, muscles slightly sore from holding the position for so long. The peace only lasted a short moment before Michael got up, not caring about you resting underneath him. You could only peek at him as he walked to the bathroom, catching a quick glimpse of the dark spot on the sweatpants he was wearing. 
You sat up slowly, the only things on your mind at the moment were mentally reviewing everything that happened for fuel on lonesome nights, and the creeping suspicion that this might become a regular occurrence. Either way, the result of either thought didn't bother you. In fact, the thought of the big bad Michael Myers humping you as if his life depended on it was something you quietly hoped for.
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ceruleancattail · 2 months
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Frigid
Malleus x reader
Tw: Yandere
It was cold.
The wind howled against the windows, like mournful wolves. Rattling the windows frames furiously, a relentless attack. Emerald flames flicker on the walls, torches set ablaze. As must as they illuminated the room with an eerie, green light, they did little to warm you.
Your hands were trembling now, the very tips of your fingers shaking like a lone leaf tossed into a storm. At the mercy of the whims of a force much greater than you were…
Which wasn’t far off from what was happening now.
Clutching at your chest, you curl further into yourself. Trying to preserve whatever bare fragments of warmth that your body still had. Trying to stave off the chill that was now gnawing into your skin, slipping into your very bones. You swear you could feel your blood freezing, frost creeping all over every crevice it could touch.
As you gritted your teeth, you could hear a chuckle. Your fingers tighten around your shoulders, digging faint, pale streaks across your skin. That laugh chilled you to the bone, sending an ice-cold dread, racing down your spine.
You glance to the source of the laugh. A pair of emerald eyes peer back at yours, twinkling with amusement. Malleus Draconia, leaning back into the bed rest. He seems unperturbed by the cold, choosing to stare at you instead. You would have loved to see some sadistic gleam in his gaze, something ugly and cruel. It’ll make your torture much easier to bear, if you had something to bare your teeth at. Someone to hate, someone to blame.
Yet there was nothing of that sort in Malleus’ gaze. Only a patronising sort of amusement that comes from someone watching a rather silly pet. It was sickeningly sweet, much like the sort of cloying artificial syrup that clung onto your throat long after it was swallowed.
Gently, he reaches towards you. Hand resting onto your shoulder, stroking downwards ever so slowly. Despite yourself, you let out a breathy sigh at the feeling of something warm touching your skin. Something that wasn’t the bitter cold, skating over your body.
Reluctantly, you unfurl yourself. Slowly edging closer towards Malleus like a wary animal. He lets you approach, the ghost of a satisfied smirk dancing across his lips. The smile of the victor, looking down at the opponent who never had a chance.
A weight presses into your torso. Malleus’ arms snake around you, coaxing you closer. Until you were curled up on his chest, your head tucked into the curve of his shoulder. Satisfied with himself, Malleus allows himself a brief chuckle, before his voice drops into a low hum. A lullaby, from his days as a young fae. A comforting melody that has been passed through generations. His voice echoes off the stone walls, engulfing you like a huge, soft blanket.
He held you there, rubbing slow, gentle circles into your back. His touch was loving, affectionate even.
Tender.
You couldn’t help but wonder what you two looked like, from an outsider’s perspective. Two lovers perhaps, intertwined with each other. Would this be a sweet moment of affection between a couple? A lovely little scene? Maybe if you pretended it was, things would be easier for you, as a captive.
If you tried hard enough, you could even forget the fact that Malleus was the one who summoned the blizzard in the first place.
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the-modern-typewriter · 6 months
Note
Hey! Asking for some writing advice here.
How does one write a villain exactly. In a very simple world with no superpowers and stuff how do you give them motivation. How do you make them slowly descent into villainy. Somehow when the villain actually thinks they're doing the right thing until the very end?
Thx love
There are a few different questions here that I'm going to try to to unpick.
I'll start with a brief overview of the connections between protagonist + antagonist, just because recognising them can be really useful in shaping your own ideas. Then I'll dive into motivation. So.
Antagonist + Protagonist = CONFLICT
If you know your protagonist well, then you have all the ingredients you need to write a great villain/antagonist for them too. Here is why.
Your villain/antagonist is, at the most basic fundamental starting point, something that is between your protagonist and what the protagonist wants/needs. As a very simple example, if your protagonist wants to make sure that everyone is free, then your antagonist is going to in some way be involved with making sure they are not free. Once you know what your antagonist needs to do in a story, then it's a lot easier to pose the question to yourself of 'okay, why would someone do that?'
Villains often reflect an opposite or warped view of the values and motivations that your protagonist has. They mirror or foil your main character. So, your antagonist's motivation will often be either opposite to the protagonist (e.g, your protagonist is motivated by selflessness, so your antagonist is motivated by selfishness in some way) or they will be the same motivation or value gone twisted (e.g. we both have people we love who we would do anything to protect...it's the villains way of acting on that motivation that makes them the villain, not the motivation.)
Of course, you can not have your antagonist + protagonist connected in this way. This is often the case if the source of conflict in your story is not another actual character or if you have a more generic villain. Lots of great stories have generic villains. It typically just means the villain is not a focus. It might be, like, about the friendships made in the journey instead.
Motivations:
I find it helpful to think of all my characters having two motivations.
The external story-specific motivation. This is whatever the antagonist is trying to achieve in your particular story and where things like genre and superpowers etc come into play.
The internal motivation that is more universal. The internal motivation is, while still specific to the character, the driving emotions and values. With a villain, that is often hatred or fear or lust for power because they're villains, but as noted earlier it can be a twisted form of love, or a strong sense of an injustice committed against them. This shapes the external motivation (e.g. 'lust for power = I want the throne, 'fear' = I'm going to kill or belittle or control what scares me so I don't have to feel scared anymore', justice might equal revenge or gaining power to ensure that a wrong is corrected. ) It could also be a bias or a prejudice that they're raised on driving them, that they genuinely believe in. Lots of possibilities!
I think this is true of people as well. We have our foundational core beliefs and desires (to be loved, to succeed, to be accepted whatever) and then we have the things we try to get in the real world to meet those needs (whether they really will or not).
Either way, it's the second one that comes into play with the slow descent into villainy and the villain thinking that they're doing the right thing until the end. Because, initially, their heart genuinely is not in a villainous place. They may actually be doing the right thing at the start. And then bad things happen. They are changed by the journey. They are a protagonist gone tragic.
We all experience emotions that can drive us to behave poorly; the desire for revenge or recognition, to ensure that the people we care about are safe, to get money so that we can provide for ourselves and others etc. None of us are without prejudice or privilege. Those things do not make you a villain, but they can be an excellent starting place for one.
Think about times when you've messed up. A villain is often an exaggerated version of that. You start pushing your own boundaries because there is something you really want/need and, depending on how far you push that...do you feel like you can still go back? Or do you feel like you might as well finish it after everything. At what point do you breathe for air, look up at what you've done, and go shit.
That's the villain who realises way too late that they're the villain.
Final note: I've been using antagonist and villain pretty interchangeably here...but they have slightly different connotations. Your antagonist does not have to be a villain to be effective. They just have to be an obstacle to the protagonist. E.g. if two people are going for the same dream job or trying to win a competition, the other competitors are antagonists to a certain extent, but that doesn't mean they're villainous or bad people. Whether you have an outright villain will depend on your story.
I hope this helps!
Some going further questions to take with you.
Is your villain trying to stop your protagonist from reaching their goal? Or is your protagonist trying to stop the antagonist from reaching their goal?
How does the villain's external goal in the story reflect the inner need? Note. They are aware of their external goal. Most people are not aware of the inner goal in the same way.
Do you know what you want your stories themes to be? (This doesn't have to be complicated and it's fine if you don't, that's what editing is for). Your protagonist and antagonist often weigh in on these themes. For example, your antagonist might be a path the protagonist could have gone down, if they made a different choice or something happened differently in their past.
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faebaex · 9 months
Text
Tangled in Wonderland - Leonotis Leonurus
author note: second poll's winner! also a plant pun for the title, just because ( ̄▽ ̄) i feel like Jade would be proud. speaking of, he has a teeny tiny cameo in this fic, simply bc he just fit the situation so well. so far, its been a housewarden clean sweep on the polls, with Azul winning the Octavinelle poll! new poll is up right now, a bonus one this time! who will be the comeback king? go vote if you haven't already! enjoy~
characters: Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader
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The library was your turf.
By this point, you were on a first name basis with all of the library ghosts, and you had a fairly good working knowledge of every section of the library, with Ace and Deuce often seeking you out at your usual table to ask you if you had any idea where a certain book would be. Of course, more often than not that meant that they would then sit at your table and you wouldn’t really get any meaningful research done, not with all their squabbling and general freshman catastrophic energy. When Grim tagged along, it was even worse, but at least you could keep an eye on him and make sure he was actually doing the assignments he was supposed to.
Despite all the time you had been spending at the library, you were still no closer to figuring out how to get home. Crowley was nowhere to be found, taking avoiding you to an entirely new level. The books and reading list that Riddle had provided you, however, had been very insightful. His recommendations were much easier to read than the previous tomes you had been torturing yourself with, and you were starting to see connections between theories, it becoming easier for you to source further reading without having to consult Riddle first. So yes, the library was your turf.
The botanical garden, however, was not. And you were well aware of who it belonged to.
Leona Kingscholar was one of the students at the top of your list to avoid. And considering his personality, the feeling was likely mutual. So you made a conscious effort to avoid places where you could run into him, not wanting to tempt the already volatile nature of fate to thrust you into his trajectory. You were even doing well avoiding conflict with the Savanaclaw students, especially considering they were always looking for a fight and the school’s only magicless student was definitely high on their lists to torment. But unfortunately for you, you couldn’t always avoid some of Leona’s favourite haunts, because what Crewel wants, Crewel gets.
You grumbled to yourself as you picked through the botanical gardens, a basket on one arm and a list in the other. Crewel had kindly brought it to your attention with a lash of his pointer that good ol’ Grim had been using ingredients from the potionology inventory for his lab work and assignments instead of collecting his own before class, as student handbook guidelines demand. With Grim nowhere to be seen and you being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Crewel had handed you an extensive list of every ingredient that Grim had used since the two of you became a joint student, and ordered you to the botanical garden to retrieve every single one of them, or face the consequences. And with Crewel swinging that pointer around, you didn’t wait around to find out what those consequences would be.
Being so unfamiliar with the botanical gardens made this job harder, and the sheer size of the list had you running around in circles, picking one ingredient only to realise that you needed something similar that was back the way you had just came. It was incredibly frustrating, and you found yourself huffing under your breath as you traipsed around the botanical garden. To make matters worse, you had to keep yourself alert, lest there be a certain lion’s tail draped carelessly on the pavestone.
You were well aware that in the game, the poor main character had accidentally stepped on a certain stroppy lion’s tail, and he had retaliated by threatening to knock their teeth out. You’d rather not find yourself in the same situation. You’d briefly considered moving his tail out of the way with a stick or something, but decided that Leona was hardly worth the effort and would likely get offended at you poking at him either way, so instead you had to dutifully watch your feet as you continued on with your laborious task.
You had been hunting for ingredients for about an hour and a half by now, and clubs were starting to wrap up their activities and head back to their dorms. You, however, still had half of your list to go, so there was no such reprieve waiting for you. You wondered if you would be able to drop the basket back to the potionology lab with your half-completed list and promise Crewel that you’d finish the job tomorrow. Surely he wasn’t willing to wait around for you to find all these ingredients? If there was any professor at Night Raven College who you expected to have evening plans, it would be Crewel.
As you pondered your next course of action, you caught a flash of teal out of the corner of your eye. Walking towards you down the pathway was Jade Leech, and you fought the urge to do something stupid like show weakness by tensing or throwing yourself into the bushes. With his usual contrived smile affixed to his face, Jade eyed you in a way that really did make you feel like a shrimp, suddenly giving you a whole new understanding as to why his twin had dubbed the main character with such a pet name. Him being here was an oversight on your part, clearly you had thought that Leona was the botanical garden’s biggest threat, not even factoring in that Jade would use this place to fawn over his mushrooms. Thankfully he didn’t stop, passing you with an elegant stride that you could only appreciate, considering he had only been on legs for two years.
“Good day, prefect. Lovely weather we are having.” Jade greeted as he passed you, with you only responding with a small, tight-lipped smile back. No sooner had his footsteps faded away did the heavens decide to open up, a surprised cry erupting from your lips as you quickly found yourself becoming drenched, the sprinklers dousing the entire area and you in water. That could not have been a coincidence.
The sprinklers stopped as quickly as they had started, but by that point the damage had already been done, your clothes and hair dripping. The list in your hand was sodden, the ink running and quickly making the contents illegible. You growled in frustration, throwing the soggy list to the floor with a wet thump as you tried to squeeze out your clothes in vain. You were so busy trying to sort yourself out, to scrap back any shred of dignity you could that you almost missed the rustling of bushes next to you. Even if you had, there was no way you’d miss the soaking wet beastman emerging from the foliage, ears flat to his head and tail whipping behind him aggressively.
And he was glaring straight at you. Great.
“You got some nerve, herbivore. You got a death wish?” Leona snarled at you and you found yourself prickling up. “This wasn’t me!” You argued, gesturing to your own dripping form before glaring right back at him, “I might be magicless, but that doesn’t make me stupid! If I was going to set the sprinklers off, I’d make sure I wouldn’t get caught in it.” You huffed, once again trying to squeeze the excess water out of your clothes. Your words seemed to pique some interest in Leona, as he was suddenly all up in your space and sniffing you.
“Hm, you’re right. No magic at all, just wet herbivore.” Leona remarked, scrunching his nose up as he stepped back, as if the smell offended him. “Do you mind? You smell like wet cat.” You said flatly with an unimpressed expression, throwing your basket back over your arm with perhaps a little more force than necessary. You swear you could see an amused glint in Leona’s eye as he stooped down, picking up the soggy list that you’d thrown to the ground just moments earlier. “What’s this?” He enquired, holding the list away from him between his thumb and forefinger as if it was toxic, yet still holding it out of your reach when you tried to swipe it back.
“That is mine.” You said with exasperation, your dignity already running down the drain without Leona making you jump to get your list back, “whatever, its ruined anyway. Have it.” You huffed, resigned to having to go back to Crewel with your metaphorical tail between your legs and plead for a new list. Leona eyed you up for a moment before he stepped towards you again, tugging at the basket on your arm to get a look at the contents before dumping the ruined list into the basket.
“C’mon, prefect,” Leona droned over his shoulder as he started walking up the pathway, “I’ll get you some ingredients. First year ingredients are simple.” He scoffed as he navigated the garden like a seasoned pro, his gait lazy and leaving you no choice but to trail after him with a suspicious expression on your face.
“You’re… Helping me?” You questioned, the corner of your lips downturning warily. The Leona you knew was never helpful, only interested if he had something to gain, usually foisting off any inconveniences to Ruggie. “What’s in it for you?” You asked carefully, watching as he picked some stems from a bush and lob them into your basket, making you sigh as you attempted to tidy up his shoddy packing. Leona’s smile was all fangs as he caught your eyes before continuing along the path, “I’m always in need of another gopher. Having you owe me could come in handy, Ruggie has been nagging me lately and you could be just what I need... Plus, the quicker you’re out of the botanical garden, the more peaceful sleep I’d get without having to listen to your huffing and puffing.”
Ah.
Well, you suppose the original main character was truly onto something when they’d stayed up all night screaming outside Leona’s room in chapter three.
Leona had made short work of finding ingredients, and soon your basket was filled to the brim. “Those are all the common ingredients in first year potions. Any missing ingredients are on you.” Leona drawled as you both walked together towards the exit of the botanical garden, his hands behind his head as he yawned leisurely, “you owe me, prefect.”
“How do you even know what ingredients to look for?” You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you as you both left the garden, about to split off on your own paths as you planned to deliver the basket of ingredients to Crewel, whilst you assumed Leona would head back to his dorm. Leona simply kept walking, and you assumed he’d grown tired of you. But then he paused, looking over his shoulder at you with a smirk that you’d dare to describe as cheeky.
“Because I had to search out ingredients for Crewel in my first year, too.”
Huh. Perhaps Leona wasn’t that bad after all, you thought to yourself as you watched Leona’s retreating back, before setting off yourself to hand the ingredients in to Crewel, praying for fate to grant you some mercy for a change.
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Text
Absurd Thoughts
Tech x Reader
Summary- During a regrettable moment of insecurity, you think Tech considers going off with Phee. Assurance pursues, Tech only wants you.
A/N- Tech's waist is so snatched in this Gif 😩. Made Phee a villain SORRY! Near the end there is lots of touching, but everything is PG and nothing ensues from it!
Word Count- 1,713
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"Head to these coordinates, brown eyes." You couldn't resist rolling your eyes. With crossed arms you even included a scoff, watching Phee rest a hand seductively on Tech's shoulder. It sat dangerously close to his chest.
It seemed that the only one who noticed was Hunter, his exceptional skills in observation shined. He gave you an 'it's okay' expression, but it did nothing to calm you.
Who did Phee think she was? Okay- that was a little harsh, but she had no right to be hitting on Tech. Constantly, mind you.
She leaned over him, pressing her bust to his shoulder to put the coordinates in. You swear you felt your face twitch. That was your move, which you had used on Tech multiple times. There was no doubt that she touched him on purpose.
Rage bubbled up in you, so much that you turned away and retreated to the back section of the ship.
What you were too mad to see was Tech leaning away from Phee to glance back at you, concerned.
It was not a secret that you and Tech were involved. Phee didn't seem to care, though you had never confronted her before. It seemed easier to wait until the mission was over. The thought of her leaving after the mission was something to look forward to.
Except, this time it wasn't just a mission. This might be a more permanent situation. A safe-haven from Cid was something you wished for, but at the expense of your happiness?
You went to hide in the refresher for a minute. You needed a space to just sit down and breathe. No eyes on you, certainly not Phee's.
Leaning against the sink, you close your eyes and inhale. The ship gave a familiar jolt- you were exiting hyperspace. With a groan, you straighten yourself out.
Okay, this can still be a good day. At least, that's what you tried to tell yourself. You fixed yourself up and returned to the group. They were already leaving the ship, you had to sprint to catch up.
Your eyes searched for Tech's, he was already busy with a datapad. Your hands moved on their own to fidget with each other- an action you subconsciously did. You didn't even notice it, but Tech did. He drove his gaze from the pad to look at you.
He stops walking for a second, letting you catch up. You smile up at him, his attention was enough to lift your spirits. His hand brushed against your back, guiding you to the rest of the force.
You started to thank him, but was interrupted by Phee.
"Welcome to Pabu! My home away from home!" She spoke louder than needed, making sure everyone was listening to her.
"That is the Archium." She pointed to a large building but looked at Tech, staring until he glanced up from his datapad. Everyone noticed the tension when you fought her look instead. She continued, "That is where we will store the artifacts." She crossed her arms, smug.
Everyone looked at Tech when he started talking. "Well, my sources tell me that this piece is in fact, worthless." He stated. You didn't doubt him for a second.
Looks shifted to Phee to await her response.
She hesitated- thinking of what to say. "Well uh, in some cultures this item," She holds it up, "Can be used in seduction and sexual activities."
Hunter promptly covered Omegas ears, placing his hands over them.
No one said anything, a little put off by her comment.
Tech didn't even look up from his datapad at Phee's next comment.
"Since your 'sources' don't have information on this, perhaps I could show you. First hand." She steps closer, ignoring your sour stance. "For research, of course." She added, a hand on her hip.
"Excuse me?" You made your input, stepping between her and Tech.
She scoffs but doesn't move. "I wasn't asking you." All eyes were on you two except for Tech's. He only glanced up from his datapad for a second.
"Besides, I think brown eyes here needs a change. Someone who can really handle him." She knew exactly what she was doing. Tech finally lowers the datapad to look at you fully.
That was it.
"Oh hell-!" Hunter steps in, not wanting a fight.
"I think you two need to cool off. Let's all take a break- Phee, is there someplace we can settle down for the night?" To be fair, Phee did owe us for helping her on her mission.
You breathe deep, stepping back. While you still wanted to bash her head in- you also wanted a comfy bed to sleep in. Rolling your eyes would have to do for now.
Hunter eyed you once again, eyebrows raised. You knew he was just trying to find a place to recoup and get our allies straight. Especially after you all left Cid.
"I can arrange three rooms, four if brown eyes wants to spend the night with me." Before he could respond, you did for him.
"We'll manage." You stated.
After meeting with Shep Hazard, Phee led everyone to their respective rooms. She had an obnoxious 'sweeter than life' attitude.
It was going to be Wrecker, Hunter and Tech, then Omega and you sharing rooms. No one wanted to hear Wrecker snoring.
Then, Hunter suggested that you and Tech needed some alone time, which you were grateful for. Omega and Tech switched, letting you be with him.
While this would have put you in a good mood, you couldn't help but let your thoughts run. You knew Tech was loyal, but why didn't he say anything? He just stood there and let Phee run her mouth. He had never told Phee to stop flirting- heck, he didn't tell her 'no' about spending the night with her. You did.
You hated that you felt this way, but nothing you told yourself calmed your nerves. Were you jealous? Insecure? or being irrational? Swallowing, you try to ignore. It seemed easier.
Hours later, you found yourself in bed with Tech. He was sat up, leaning against the headboard. He was only in his blacks, armor pieces neatly resting on a nearby table. He did however keep yours and his blasters in arms reach. Just in case.
You were also bare of your armor, but was clad in a nightgown instead. The blacks were far too hot for you to sleep comfortably in. You lay across Tech's legs horizontally, your midsection resting on his right knee.
You lounged your head on lifted crossed arms, still lost in thought. Tech was preoccupied, his datapad was propped up by your back- convenient for him.
He tapped and scrolled away with one hand, the other rested on your hip. Your gown hiked up as he thumbed across and into the natural grooves of your waist and hip. It gave his brain the mindless stimulation it needed to concentrate better.
You were quiet for awhile, trying to fall asleep. It escaped you, and you realized that you would need to talk to Tech if you wanted to have a good night.
"Tech?" You mumbled.
"Yes, what is the matter?" He asked immediately.
Your head was still down, and words muffled. "Can we talk about earlier?" You felt silly for asking.
You didn't see, but heard him fix his goggles. "Concerning what issue?"
You sighed and propped yourself up on an elbow, turning to look at him. His hand fell from your raised hip to your inner thigh when you moved. This didn't go unnoticed by you, but Tech seemed to do it subconsciously.
"Do you really not know what i'm talking about?" He just stared at you, eyes not leaving yours.
"With Phee... When we first got here?" You reminded him.
"Ah, I do recall that altercation." He said, turning the datapad off and moving it to the side.
"What about it?" He continued.
You scrunched your face. "Tech, about what Phee said. What else?"
He raised his eyebrows in understanding. "About Phee's suggestions?"
"Yes! You didn't even say anything! Tech, shes been flirting with you the whole time. She tried to get you in her bed!" You were slightly frustrated and a little defeated.
He rubbed his chin, thinking about her words. "I did not agree to her advances. Trust that it is not in my intentions to be with her. In any way." You blinked at him, biting the inside of your cheek when he absent mindedly rubbed your thigh up and down.
"I just... You never denied her, I guess I just thought you considered it..." You couldn't meet his gaze when you said this.
"Well that's an absurd thought." Was all he said, only continuing when you looked at up him.
"I thought ignoring her would be a sufficient response. I will confront her with a more vigorous attitude next time." He decided, thinking the matter was over.
You smiled, Tech didn't see it as a big deal. Not for any reason other than- he didn't want her. He saw no need to dwell on it, as the thought of leaving you wasn't even an option.
At this, you leaned up and hugged him. He hugged you back, a bit confused. There were quite a few occasions when he didn't understand your physical matters with him, but he let you do as you pleased.
With arms locked around his neck you spoke. "You don't have to do that... Just knowing that you aren't even paying mind to her is enough for me."
He nodded, keeping still as you moved up next to him.
He clicked the lamp off and let you get comfortable, snuggling up on his side.
"As for any future women or matters, you are the only one I could ever be with." He said, staring up at the ceiling. One of his hands finding its way back to feel some kind of your skin.
You nuzzled into his neck, "Really?"
"Of course, there is a very low percentage of people who can actually stand being around me." He said, completely serious. You laughed anyways.
"What is so funny?"
"Nothing," You smiled, like it was an inside joke, "Just go to sleep, I love you."
"I love you too."
A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I am loving everyone's request, and I am working on more as you read this! I just needed to get the fic idea out of my head and in writing, thanks for bearing with me :)
Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss
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laladellakang · 9 months
Text
burgundy lipstick
masterlist | wattpad
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italics dialogue = english
how the dark blood: engene ver. photocard shoot played out
real quick! i personally don't think that neck kisses have to be racy, like a peck to the neck is brief and innocent 
but the one i'm referring to in heeseung's relationship with della is the racy one, whoops.
The Dark Blood, Engene's version album. The most anticipated version among fans and the Enhypen members themselves.
The source behind the members' excitement? A neck-kiss that was supposed to take place.
For the photocard, all members but Niki were set to bear a kiss mark on their neck, with Della's lips serving as the boys' human-stamp and whoever wins rock-paper-scissors as Della's.
Yet the execution was cut short. Very short.
"Kiss here?" Della pointed at the side of Jungwon's neck. The first person appointed was decided by the staff. Perhaps Jungwon was chosen because he was the leader.
His coming-of-age could be an alternate reason. Since he is a recent adult, the staff wanted to check if it works with him.
And of course, there's always a possibility of the choice being completely random.
"Yup, just there. Maybe have it slightly askew," as the creative director and Della discussed placements, the young leader grew more nervous at the thought of his first ever neck-kiss.
"Okay, understood," Della mirror-lessly smeared on a burgundy lipstick, smacking her lips at the camera pointed at them. The rest of the members were all watching from afar, trying to be subtle with how excited they are for their turn. "Ready, Wonie?"
"Mm," Jungwon stretched out his neck for easier access. "Della is gonna make a kiss print on my neck," he explained to the future photoshoot sketch viewers.
"We're all friends here," Della clarified. "This is just bros being bros," as if their fans (or anyone) is gonna believe that.
"It's just a print," Jungwon added, immediately holding his breath when Della's head moved close.
"Like this?" Della asked the creative director.
"Uhh..." he stepped back and thought of it for a second. "It might be too sexy actually. It's a little too... suggestive– too grown up" he hissed with a tilt of his head. "Will buttoning up his shirt help? Jungwon, can you button your shirt?" but even with the slight change in wardrobe, the view was just too provocative.
"I think we have to discard the kiss idea and just switch to vampire bites," the creative director decided. "Unbutton them to how it was before and I'll inform the makeup team of the change. Please scrap this from the video," he informed before walking away.
As a leader, Jungwon was just hoping that his hyungs could get it together and not openly show their disappointment.
"I'll get going now," Della bowed her head and left to join the other members.
"What happened?" Sunghoon asked the girl. 
"The kiss thing is scrapped. We're getting vampire bites instead," immediately after, the boys let out a chorus of 'ahh..'s. 
Jungwon barely managed to hold in a scoff. It's just one tiny neck kiss, what's the big deal?
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"Ya– how can they just cancel the kiss after testing it out on Jungwon?" Sunghoon groaned and threw his head back. After the shoots, all eight members were left alone in the green room to prep themselves before heading off, and it seems like the oldest five still held some unresolved feelings.
"They said it was too suggestive and sexy," Jungwon explained. "We all agreed that it is, didn't we?"
"I knowww, but couldn't they just make all of us get the mark first and THEN have it removed?" Sunghoon replied. "And while they're at it, NOT remove it from the behind episode?"
"Why? What difference does it ma–" Jungwon was cut off by Jay.
"It's easy for you to say! You were first up!" he pointed with a grin. Sometimes It's hard to tell whether he's actually serious with the second maknae. He usually gives out a smile while saying certain things. "You could quickly snap a few selfies and post it on Weverse or something. What a missed opportunity."
"What?" Jungwon seriously, truly did not understand what the big deal was.
"That's why I should've been first– they should've gone by age or something." Heeseung added with a sigh, manspreading on the sofa. "Della, darling, come here please," he pat his lap. 
"No, you're staying here," Jake wrapped his arms around Della, who was already on his lap. "Hyung, if we went by age then Jungwon will be first anyway since he's leader."
"That's not what he meant." Sunoo pushed Jake lightly with a giggle. "Like actually just age without consideration for leader."
"Ah is that so?" Jake monotonously said. "I want a lipstick print in public mannn!" he groaned out loud.
"I already imagined mine to be around here," Sunoo stretched his collar to show his collarbone. "What do you think, hyung?"
"It doesn't matter what we think if you're not getting it at the end of the day," Sunghoon replied, smirking at the pout the younger let out. "I imagined mine to be near my throat."
"Well it doesn't matter when you're not getting it at the end of the day!" Sunoo fired back with wide eyes.
"Ish!" Sunghoon balled up his fist with a grin. "Ya–"
"I wanted mine to be here, kinda," Heeseung distracted the two by pointing on the spot under his ear, just where Jungwon got his.
"Isn't that your sweet spot?" Jake asked. Della immediately scoffed out a laugh at his remark.
"How do you know where Heeseung-oppa's sweet spot is?" she laughed. The female member will never stop teasing her boyfriends about their never-fully-straight behaviour. 
"Anyways! I wanted mine around–" Jake tried to change the subject.
"Aish, get over yourselves, hyungs! I wasn't even set to get one," Niki laid his head on Heeseung's lap. "Stop being so horny," ever since he learned the Korean word for 'horny, he's been constantly using it to tease the older members.
"We're not!" the hyuppas and Sunoo protested.
 "With no mark on me, I was gonna look left out of the relationship," Niki muttered and closed his eyes.
"We're sorry, Niki," "We're really sorry, we didn't mean to," the members apologised.
"It's totally cool. Besides, if it's the neck kisses you're after, you could all just ask Della for one like any other day, simple as that."
"Of course! You need to give me some once we get home!" Sunghoon pointed at Della.
"Ya, ya, ya– me too! I want neck kisses too!" Jay sat up straight.
"Of course! You can't just leave any of us out!" Heeseung added.
"Why are you leaving me out then-" Niki was cut off by Sunoo.
"It's not your time yettt." he whined.
During times like these, Della usually stays out of the bickering. She can easily put a stop to it, but where's the fun in that?
Without a word, she got off of Jake's lap and made her way over to Niki, where she placed a chaste kiss on his neck.
"YA, YA, YA, YA, YA! What is happening?!" as his hyungs protested, Niki cheered and pulled Della in for a cuddle. Jungwon, Della and Sunoo were the only ones laughing.
'My men are absolutely adorable,' Della thought.
"You're laying on my lap and you do this to me?!" Heeseung playfully yelled at Niki.
"Maknae on top! Maknae on top!" Niki laughed, pointing at Jungwon and himself. Jungwon clapped his hand as he laughed aloud.
Being up first for the shoot has its perks.
accidentally posted my draft for this and deleted the original ask
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check out jungwon’s pov here! (15+? 16+??)
taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @i90snoo @one16core @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @hiqhkey @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount @nvmbheart [@studioreader @sarang-wonie @fairydosii @hoonstrology @jaetint @4sahii @8-itsmee-8 @toriluvsfics ]
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Struggling with Setting and Plot
[Ask edited for length]
enzoid23 asked: I can easily make characters/relationships but the setting and plot are difficult for me. I like stories where characters are stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it or find a way to escape, which is a basic concept, but I can't figure out how to do it. I'm trying my to avoid copying other stories but I'm not sure where to draw the line between that and inspiration either. There's too many gaps, such as the how and the where and how many characters. I keep throwing in as much stuff as i can whether it fits or not, like a Mary Sue, but it's plot instead of a character.
First, since you asked about copying vs inspiration, start by reading these posts:
Taking Inspiration from Another Story’s Premise Similarities vs Plagiarism Plagiarism vs Reference vs Inspiration Hopefully that will help you get comfortable with borrowing ideas from other sources but making them into something new and unique to you.
Next, being able to come up with characters is great, but unless those characters are rooted in a particular setting or situation, it doesn't help much with world building and plot. And while some writers can find a plot within a setting, I think for most writers its easier to start with the plot, and once you have the beginnings of a premise, it's not too hard to expand a plot from there. As luck would have it, you already have the beginnings of a premise:
People get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it or find a way to escape.
Now we can look at that and start asking questions. Perhaps the easiest question to start with is "do they learn to accept it, or do they find a way to escape?" Which one? Because those are two very different goals. Choosing one and eliminating the other tightens up your premise:
People get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it.
All right... I think the next logical question is who gets stuck together in a place? Is it two people? Three people? Five people? Twenty-six people? One-hundred people? You don't even have to figure out the exact number right now, but just knowing whether this story is about two people, a few people, a small group of people, a bigger group of people, or a huge group of people is going to really narrow things down.
A small group of people get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it.
Okay... where do they get stuck and how? Let's brainstorm... are these modern day boaters, or a misfit bunch of 18th century buccaneers, who become castaways on a remote island? Are they a group of students whose project gets them sucked into another dimension? Are they far-future astronauts who get stranded on an isolated planet? Keep going...
A small group of students get sucked into another dimension and stranded when their science project goes wrong.
Ahoy, there! A PREMISE!!!
Now you can start brainstorming the specific details... who are these students? Middle school/equivalent? High school/equivalent? University? Graduate school? Where and when is their school located? 1926 Chicago? 1980s London? 2077 Kinshasa? 1926 Shanghai?
A small group of middle school students in 1980's London get sucked into another dimension and stranded when their science project goes wrong.
Time to start world building and brainstorming this alternate dimension. Is it going to be an alternate version of our dimension? Will it be a dimension that's similar to a past time/place on Earth? Will this dimension be like a futuristic city? Will it be something fantastical like a place that feels like an alien city, or like Blade Runner meets Ready Player One? Are there other people in this dimension? Or is this group completely on their own?
Now you can start to think about a conflict... what is the problem that must be resolved by the end of the story? Is it simply a matter of figuring out how to survive in this new place? Are they immediately captured by some faction or army or group, and they must escape, or convince someone that they're not dangerous, or win their freedom somehow? What is the specific goal they work toward in order to reach this resolution? What steps must they achieve? Who or what places obstacles in their path, and what obstacles?
Once you know all of this, you can figure out the nitty-gritty details like how many characters, who each one is specifically, and what their role in the story will be. You can look at various structure templates (like Save the Cat! Writes a Novel, Larry Brooks Story Structure, Dramatica, etc.) for guidance... just don't feel like you have to stick to it exactly. You can also read through posts on my Plot & Story Structure master list for more help with plotting.
I hope this post gets you over the hump, though! ♥
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dailyadventureprompts · 4 months
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Homebrew Mechanic: Stress, Panic, & Affliction
Whether it’s a full campaign or a simple spooky oneoff adventure, eventually every DM is going to want to run some kind of horror scenario, at which point they’ll discover that there’s a lot more to delivering scares than just using assorted Halloween iconography.  I’ve written before about creating an atmosphere of dread among your players using framing and narration, but I felt it was overdue to follow it up with a mechanical counterpart. 
SAYING a monster/scenario is scary is all well and good, but if we turn fear into an actual gameplay system then we can use it to build out encounters and make our job as DMs easier. I also ended up making this system because I’ve read or adapted one too many modules involving “eldritch madness” that didn’t really understand how horror worked: adventuring is a tough business, and people getting overwhelmed with stress and panicking or lashing out is a way more grounded and useful expression of that than becoming mindless cultists because they saw a weird wet bug. Check over here for my history of how “madness” has been presented in TTRPGS, and how we can handle it better in the future. 
Now for the system itself: 
When a character is exposed to horrific, frightening, or unsettling circumstance, the DM may ask them to make a saving throw to avoid suffering a point of stress, represented by a dot or check penciled in near their proficiency marker. This can be anything from a con save to keep a strong stomach while rooting through the backrooms of a butcher shop, a wis save to reassure yourself that it really was just the wind making all that creepy noise in the abandoned manor, or a cha save to ward off the psychic interference of a aberrant mind-weapon.  The DM may also rule that certain events automatically inflict stress, like seeing a trusted ally killed or getting swallowed by an eldritch horror.  
A character can withstand a number of points of stress equal to their proficiency bonus. After which they’re considered to be at a “breaking point”.  If any more stress is inflicted upon the character after that point the DM decides whether the character clears an amount of stress equal to their proficiency bonus and panics (the most likely option,  gaining the frightened condition for 1d4, save ends) or gains an affliction comparable to the source of the stress (roll on the madness table, though find some better ones than the default DMG ones).  The DM may also decide to have the stress compound,   gaining an additional point but not having anything trigger, so that the tension breaks at the appropriate time. 
Characters lose a point of stress by spending a full day resting in a haven (a safe place such as a town or a comfortable hidden hideaway) , though the DM may also rule that characters commiserating during a long rest  (oh look at that, a reward for roleplaying) may lose a point of stress. 
Using stress as a mechanic like this gives us something else to build encounters around other than just damage.  We can have traps or one off random encounters during exploration that only serve to unnerve a few of our partymembers, softening them up to fall into panic when they encounter something actually scary. Imagine running a full haunted house dungeon where most of the encounters in the first half didn’t actually involve monsters, instead slowly building in tension as the party discovers the horrific truth of the ghost’s tragic past in hopes of putting it to rest. 
Artist
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olderthannetfic · 2 months
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"Why I don't write F/F" thread proceeded just as unproductively as I expected. It wasn't about moralizing about the women not writing F/F, it was a question about why personal reasons for avoiding a configuration aren't reflected in opposite directions by other groups. Unlike race, gender has an almost 50/50 split, there's a scale to the proportions not there for other types of identity category. "The femslash police suck" is a factor I can understand. But why wouldn't "personal reasons I just don't feel it towards this configuration" end up an even distribution across the population? The expectation for women to write about women isn't a moral rule, it's that if you allow the logic "men in control of stories write about men (and that's why more mainstream stories center men)", then the flip side is, well, why people clamor for more women behind the camera and in the writers' room. Either accept the logic for both sides or challenge it for both sides. Instead we have the worst of both worlds, we accept it for one side and challenge it for the other. Where's the parallel universe where this imbalance somehow resulted in a different quadrant being the smallest proportion of ships?
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Why wouldn't "personal reasons" be even? Because the kinds of issues people face based on their demographic aren't.
But I think the larger factor is how socialization affects choice of hobbies and volunteer efforts. Cis men and cis women, on average, go in for different flavors. The dudes tend to be more bothered by the idea of "not getting anything back" for what feels like work. When they do do unpaid labor, it's often the kind that accrues glory and career prospects rather than less showy social ties. Open source coding projects where they can be important, yes. Writing fanfic, no.
Looking up any analysis of volunteering and unpaid work that makes such-and-such a part of society function will get you a lot of discussion of this gendered difference. It's pervasive.
Of course, this is just a broad trend. Plenty of guys do write fanfic, and when they dominate a fanfic space, we see tons of fic focused on the female characters they find attractive, including f/f fic.
And if you're asking about cis gay men specifically... well... again, gendered socialization means that the issues faced by cis lesbians and cis gay men are not equivalent. The reasons and ways that people employ allegory to talk about things "too close to home" will likewise not be exactly the same. Traditional US gay male culture goes in for drag and for an obsession with Hollywood divas and The Golden Girls. Plenty is being mediated through female personas; it's just not translating into fanfic specifically. But most people making "Leave the fujoshi alone" arguments are not thinking about cis gays: they're thinking about people in messier identity categories.
The biggest difference is not behavior but simply that cis men are a small minority on FFN, AO3, and Wattpad, the three big fanfic archives. (Some ancient FFN research found that it was 78% female, and that's the archive known for having more men!) The places with more cis guys are much smaller and don't get talked about as much by most fandom history and fandom meta types from the AO3 side of things.
The reason cis men's taste in favorite characters isn't being "pushed back against" isn't a double standard: it's because:
Cis men simply aren't that relevant to site-wide trends on AO3
and
2. The reverse pattern does happen all the time with vanishingly little m/m and lots of f/f
You sound like you think we'd make this fanfic-specific argument about pro media. In fact, plenty of queer women are open that they produce original f/f but not f/f fanfic or they produce f/f fanworks but not fic. A lot of the "too close to home" arguments are specifically about the kind of id fuel, naked-in-public vibes of AO3-style fanfic. Writing that is less id-driven may not feel that same way. A given woman might have a much easier time writing a mystery novel about a lesbian detective who never gets laid on page than a steamy f/f bodice ripper.
The parallel universe you ask about exists. It's horny imageboards full of fan art of anime girls.
The reason you sound judgmental and are getting "unproductive" responses is that you're phrasing things as though we're refusing to solve a problem. In reality, we're attempting to analyze the situation that exists. It's a descriptive approach.
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