Tumgik
#without assigning value to one or the other
calamitys-child · 6 months
Text
Listening to a podcast discussing conspiracy theories and deconstructing the ideas behind them and it's reminded me of the coolest practical lessons in critical thinking I ever got, both in high school, both from the same teacher. One was a month long project on who killed jfk in which we could basically present any theory as long as we cited all our reasons and it got us really excited about research and interpretation, but it was the follow up that I liked best.
Our next project she brought us into class and showed us a documentary claiming the moon landing was faked. Gave us worksheets to do that sided with that stance. And at the end of class a bunch of us were like miss wait this doesn't seem right?? and she said okay, we'll discuss that next week. The next lesson, she showed us a mythbusters episode countering all the claims of the original documentary and gave us worksheets for that, and another bunch of people went wait miss you can't teach us two opposing things, which one is right? What do we put on the exam??
So she split the class in two and told us each to present a case based on each side, and to explain why our source was or wasn't the more reliable of the two. Got us to debate each other directly and use additional sources to back us up and explain why those sources were reliable and should be believed. And because they were randomly assigned there was no guarantee you'd agree with the stance you were presenting, but you had to present it like you did. At the end of the project she asked us all which stance we found more convincing and why, and the majority of us basically said "we think that the moon landing is real because most of the arguments against it seem like someone reacted to a confusing thing without testing it, but when you test it and ask the person running the test to explain the science it makes sense once you have more information. Also, one documentary was made with the help of scientists with qualifications and experience and the other was made by people who don't have that but like to write mystery books, which looks like a less reliable way to get an answer. But we still dont understand why you showed us both if one is wrong."
And she was like excellent. You've done exactly what you should do. At high school level, we as teachers are expected to filter for the reliable sources for you, so you know to repeat that to pass an exam, but if you want to be historians on your own, I won't be your teacher any more once you graduate. Lots of people have opinions and theories and research about times in history, and it's your job to learn how to look at them and decide who you want to trust. This won't be on the exam, but I need you all to know it. You all did a great job following the school's instructions to repeat information you were given, but for some of you, that information wasn't on a reliable foundation. I know you all know how to pass an exam. You're smart and you've been trained to follow these instructions. What you deserve to be taught is how to use all this once you don't have to do exams any more.
And then as a reward for us doing a good job at figuring out the value of checking your sources' sources she let us watch Bush get hit in the face with a shoe before we had to go to maths. Shoutout to you Ms Hannah you were a good'un I hope you're doing well ten years on from that class
30K notes · View notes
yunoclips · 4 months
Text
interruptions
Tumblr media
Nerd!Haechan x reader
happy new year ;)
nsfw included
Tumblr media
He remembers the first time he saw you. The sun was shining way too brightly and the heat was sweltering. It was a normal day on campus for Haechan. Following his normal routine of eating , studying and then getting to class. Leaving his dorm as quietly as possible trying his best to leave his roommate, Jaehyun undisturbed. Jaehyun was someone that valued his hours of “beauty sleep”. 
He remembers the last time he accidentally disrupted Jaehyun’s sleep. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. But none the less he manages to exit successfully. Everything goes as planned. He gets to class without any interruptions. Interruptions are actually something that he rarely ever encounters considering he doesn’t have the most active social life. 
Haechan has no friends—Not counting the ones he has online waiting for him in his overwatch server. 
But he has no actual friends. The ones that you can go out with. The ones that let you crash at their place just because. The ones that keep you company when you’re lonely.
And while that might sound sad to any other person , it actually doesn’t effect him. Well at least that’s what he believes. He has good grades , a decent place to stay , food filling his belly and a computer than can handle everything else. Who needs friends when you already have the essentials. 
Besides friends can drag you down. If he had friends he wouldn’t be able to get to class on time and sit in his favorite spot like he’s doing now. 
Some people would consider him a Nerd, and he doesn’t blame them. He gets to class on time every day , always participates , never hands in an assignment late , gets perfect scores and to top it all of he wears these thick rimmed black glasses. Being called a Nerd is expected and he doesn’t mind it at all. 
As usual class goes by quickly, with no interruptions of course. Haechan steps out into the sweltering heat once again. Using his hand to shield the sun that blinds his eyes , he starts walking to his next class. Everything goes smoothly with no interruptions. Until he feels something fall out of his back pocket. He turns around quickly and bends down to grab it but when he looks up he stares at the first interruption he’s had in a while.
There you were standing in the middle of the campus looking absolutely dumb founded. The light of the sun reflecting off of your skin perfectly. Your hair was beautiful , bringing out all the profound features of your face. Your body was mesmerizing. He knows he shouldn’t be looking at you like this but he can’t help it when he finds himself staring at your tits. Eyes wandering to your thighs. Every thought that he shouldn’t be having suddenly bombards his mind. 
He tries his hardest to look away but something about you is so captivating. Maybe it’s the way you looked so confused. Holding the campus directory out , switching between looking down at it and then looking up to try and pin point your location. If he was a normal person he would’ve walked up to you and offered help. But he isn’t normal. 
So he turns around and walks to class quicker than he normally would. That day he was 10 minutes early to class. 
The next week was full of interruptions. If it wasn’t bad enough that he couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind. You just so happened to be in the same statistics class as him. 
“Great”
Even more distractions for him. Today was the day he finally decided to stop allowing you to cloud his mind. He was just gonna keep his head down and do his work like always. You didn’t even know he existed. How could he be so obsessed with someone that doesn’t even know he exists. 
His plans were actually starting to work. He managed to actually get some useful notes down on his paper without pausing mid sentence to daydream about how you would look ontop of him. But as the saying goes — all good things must come to an end. His bubble is popped instantly the moment you walk up to him. 
“Hi, my name is y/n” You had this disgustingly bright smile on your face. It wasn’t disgusting because it was a bad smile , it was disgusting because it was so precious that it should be locked away in a safe and hidden from the world. Not just exposed like this in front of so many filthy people. 
“ I know this is probably a rude way of introducing myself. But I’m actually quite new to campus.”
How pathetic he must look right now, he thinks to himself. His mouth is hung open and his eyes are drilling holes into yours. Instead of responding he just stares. Not thinking much of it , you continue 
“Your name is Haechan right? It’s nice to meet you !”  
Taking his limp hand off the desk you intertwine it with yours and shake it before softly placing it back down. 
When you touch him he feels something inside of him jump. He doesn’t know if was his heart or his cock. Or both. 
Still not receiving any response other than a mindless stare, you keep going. 
“I actually came to you for a reason.”
There it goes. What a fool he would be to think you would actually come up to him just because you wanted to be friends. Of course you needed something. 
“I was talking to our professor just a minutes ago. I had to explain to him that I was considering dropping this course. Math isn’t one of my strengths and I just can’t deal with the added stress right now. He interrupted me though and told me that there was actually someone in this class that could help me out a bit. Nd now here I am.” 
You pause taking a moment to try and read his face. Trying to pick out any kind of reaction but you weren’t receiving any. 
“You know , it’s totally fine if you say no. I know this is again , kind of rude and abrupt. If you can’t help I won’t be mad or anythi-“
“No!” He says a little too loud. So loud that a few of the students that were close to him turned their heads quickly just to check if something was wrong. 
“Shit, this is why you don’t have any friends. What kind of response was that?” Internally scolding himself. 
“I-i mean no, it’s totally fine. I would be honored to help you. I-i mean not honored but glad. Honored sounds kind of creepy. A-am I making this weird , fuck you probably think I’m crazy. I promise I’m not it’s jus-“
Cutting him off , you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a comforting look. 
“It’s okay. It’s actually kinda cute.” 
Cute. You just called him cute. Something inside of him jumped again , this time it was definitely his cock. 
“So how about this Saturday at 1 ? We can meet in the park a few blocks down. It’s supposed to be really nice out. I can bring snacks and a blanket. It’s the least I can do considering you’ll be helping me out with something so short notice.” You finish with a smile painted across your face. 
All he can do is nod. Still stuck in a trance , he forces his self to answer. “Y-yea , Saturday is good. I can do Saturday” 
“Great ! See you Saturday Haechan”  
And just like that you disappear. The rest of Haechan’s day was absolutely unproductive. 
When he got home that night, he sprawled across his bed staring at the ceiling in darkness. That same night he jerked himself off with the hand you shook.
Removing his trousers with haste. The little glob of spit wasn’t enough to prevent friction. His hand was moving fast, faster than any other time. He was working so hard that his arm caught a cramp. 
His stomach was burning , knots of pure pleasure —and humiliation— forming. Coaxing himself through orgasm after orgasm. His head started to fog , he could hear his own heartbeat ripping through his ears. Mouth hung open in a silent scream. Thighs twitching , toes curled.
Only when his cock started to burn from the friction, did he finally stop. He fell asleep with his cock still in his hand. The only thing he could see in his dreams was you.  
The rest of the days leading up to Saturday went by like a blur. When the day finally came Haechan found himself sinking in desperation. For some reason the time leading up to your 1’o clock meet up was incredibly slow. He had made sure to take a nice shower with his good body wash that he spent way too much money on. He did his skin care routine , making sure to add an extra step. He even ironed his clothes , something he never does.  
He got to the park 10 minutes early. Although he’s always an early person for no real reason , this time he needed those 10 minutes to prepare himself.
How was he gonna greet you? Was he gonna stumble over his words like an idiot or speak in confidence? How did he look , was his shirt crisp enough? Did he smell fine? 
Just as he started to question himself more you walked towards him. That beautiful smile planted on your face , carrying a few bags and blankets. He was in a trance , and just like that everything he spent 10 minutes thinking about instantly disappeared from his mind. 
You finally reached him and plopped everything down. Leaning in to give him a hug you noticed how stiff he got. Maybe you should’ve asked first , you say to yourself. But little did you know , that small gesture alone sent blood rushing straight to his cock. 
“Fucking hell, get it together.” He says to himself. 
“Hi! I’m sorry for having you wait like this. The bus was taking longer than usual” genuine sorriness lacing your voice. 
“N-no , it’s fine. I wasn’t here that long”. And just like that a loud wave of silence washes over. He’s just staring at you like you have a spider on your forehead.
“Maybe the hug was actually way to much…” You say to yourself. 
“Well… How about we take a seat. I’ll open the blanket.” Breaking the silence. You bend down to start setting up. Shortly after you start, you see the other side of the blanket being spread open. Looking up , you see Haechan bent down to help you. How nice. 
The rest of the studying session goes smoothly. You come to learn that Haechan was indeed , very smart.  You understood everything he was saying , with the exception of some hardcore things. But you weren’t worried , there was always room for another session with him. 
After two long hours goes by , you sit up and pop a few grapes in your mouth. He seems to get the message and turns on his back, leaving the textbook forgotten. 
“Let’s take a break.” You propose. 
“Okay” Lifting himself up to face you , he continues. “I like breaks , breaks are cool.” 
He was so cute , you chuckle silently to yourself. 
“How about we tell each other one thing about ourselves. It can be anything.” 
“O-okay” hesitance evident in his voice. 
“I’ll start… I have this obsession with Kiwis. I know you’re probably thinking that I’m being over dramatic but no. I genuinely cannot go a single day without having one. It could be the middle of the night and I would literally wake myself up just to grab a kiwi , then go back to bed. It’s really weird I know… Actually you’re the first person that I’ve told. I guess today is your lucky day” Finishing off with a giggle. 
He feels like a pervert when the sound of your giggling goes through his ears and runs straight down to his cock. 
Clearing his throat , trying to calm himself down. He starts to speak. 
“My name isn’t Haechan. I mean it is Haechan but my actual name isn’t. It’s Donghyuck , but only my mom calls me that.” 
Donghyuck. What a nice name. It rings in your ears like the sound of wind chimes. 
“Donghyuck.. I like it , I like it a lot actually. Would it be fine if I called you that ?” 
At that moment he became even more obsessed with you than before. If that was even possible.
“Yea. I’d like that actually.” For the first time in a while , his heart is filled with warmth. 
“Well...Donghyuck. This was really nice. I should get going though , it’s getting dark out here and I don’t wanna get caught at the bus stop. How bout we do this again next week? Same place, same time ?” 
“Yes.” Answering almost too quickly. 
“I mean , yes that’s fine with me. Same place, same time.” 
Giving him a nod with a smile accompanying it , you get up. He follows after you, helping you pack up the snacks and the blanket. After you finish you give him one final hug. Leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Thank you again , Donghyuck.” 
And before he gets the chance to react you walk off. Leaving him there in shock with a painfully erect cock in his pants. It takes him 2 minutes to finally move and pick up his backpack from the floor. When he starts walking he almost trips over something. He looks down and it was your perfume. The same perfume that you use in class everyday. The perfume that smells like flower petals with hints of sweet fruit and a pinch of spice. The same perfume that he smelt when you whispered in his ear.
He leans down to pick it up. Staring at it for a few seconds he decides to just put it in his bag. Any normal person would’ve just quickly given it to you considering the bus stop was literally down the street. But Donghyuck is not a normal person. 
That night when he gets home , he does something so perverted. Something he’d never tell a soul about. He pulls out your perfume and sprays it all over his stuffed bear that he won at a raffle. Not even taking the time to get naked , he humps the toy with sloppy, inexperienced thrusts. His glasses fog up from the warmth of the room. His face is sweaty and sticky. He had drool seeping out the corners of his mouth. Mind gone completely blank. 
He came so hard, that he blacked out. 
When he regained consciousness two things were coursing through his mind. One of those things was him praying that his roommate didn’t hear him fucking himself silly. The other thing being that he was in trouble and it was all your fault. 
For the next couple of weeks , the two of you had these study sessions. They had went well and you were actually starting to understand the class. You and Donghyuck got closer too.
Ending every session with a fun fact about yourselves turned into full conversations about anything that crossed your mind. You would talk and he would listen. Thoughts of Donghyuck started clouding your head , even when you two weren’t together. 
Maybe it was because he never judged you for any weird thing you’ve said. Or maybe it was because he would let you talk your heart out — something nobody has ever done , and he would just listen happily. It could’ve also been the way he looks completely heart broken every time you leave him , like he’s worried you will never comeback.
 He’s also pretty attractive as well, soft black hair, beautiful skin, beauty moles that were spread so perfectly across his face and those thick rimmed black glasses. 
When you walked up to his seat in class that day , he assumed that it would just be for another study session. 
“Hi , we’re still on for saturda-“ 
“Do you wanna go out with me?” Cutting him off quickly.
“Like on a date.” You continue. You wait for a response but it takes a while. Maybe he didn’t understand you ?
But Donghyuck definitely understood. He understood so well that he thinks he’s dreaming actually. When the words “go out with me” flowed out of your mouth , his ears started ringing. He forgot how to breathe for a quick second. And for some odd reason he feels tears well up in his eyes. But before you think he’s trying to deny you , he forces himself to respond. 
“Are you asking me out ?”
“Yea I am actually” 
This can’t be right. The girl of his dreams asking him out , this has to be some sick joke. 
“Are you sure you weren’t talking to the person behind me , cause that would make sen-“
“No. I’m asking you, Donghyuck Lee, out on a date with me.” 
The tears were starting to fall now. Not of sadness but instead of Joy and utter happiness.
“Y-yea. I would be honored to go out with you, Like on a date of course.” Bringing his hand up to quickly wipe his cheek before you notice how pathetic he is. 
“Great ! I was thinking Friday , 5’ o clock ? There’s this really good looking burger joint around here.” There goes that beautiful smile again , so bright and big.
“Friday sounds good. I like Friday's …” 
“Good,” Pausing to take a good look at his face, you noticed his eyes were a bit watery. How cute.  “I’ll see you friday then , Donghyuck.” And just like that you disappear once again. 
When Donghyuck gets home that night , he cries in his pillow. He cries because he finally understands what it feels like to not be lonely— something that he’s been for so long. He cries and then humps his stuffed toy once again , until the only thought running through his mind is you. 
Friday came quickly. You two had met up a small little diner in the corner of town as promised. Everything was going perfect. The evening filled with jokes and you laughing at Donghyuck as he was having a mini panic attack after spilling ketchup all over his shirt.
The conversations were flowing so smoothly , it was like you two had known each other your entire lives. 
And yet again as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. 
It was time to head back home but instead of taking the bus like you usually would you and Donghyuck decided to just walk.The entire walk was filled with you two telling each other things that nobody else knew. You felt this weird sense of comfort when you spoke to him. Almost like he was the only person who understood who you really were.
When you approached the front of your building you felt a wave of sadness wash over you. This was truly an amazing night.
“I usually don’t do this after the first date but… there’s just something about you Donghyuck.” For the first time since you met him , you felt nervous.
You were staring at the ground beneath you. You took a few seconds to recollect yourself. What was the worse that could happen? This is Donghyuck. Your sweet , understanding , shy , silly Donghyuck. 
“Donghyuck.. do you maybe wanna go out with me? As like… my boyfriend?” 
Boyfriend. The word boyfriend rang in Donghyuck’s ears. His breathing started getting shallow and his knees buckled a bit. A rush of euphoria washed over him , his mind was racing and his heart was beating out of his chest. The tears welled up in his eyes and started to roll down his pretty face like a waterfall. 
“Y-yea , I’d love that actually” Pausing to sniffle and wipe his face with the sleeve of his shirt. 
“I’d love to be your boyfriend.” 
“Are you okay hyuck ? You’re crying…” There was genuine concern in your voice. 
“N-no I’m fine. Just really really happy.”
What a dork. He was so infatuated with you that he started to cry when you asked him out. You found it endearing that he enjoyed you so much. A smile painted your face. There was an intense silence that enveloped the two of you in a box. It was as if you and Donghyuck were the only people on earth. Basking in each others glory. 
Staring into his captivating eyes you start to inch in closer to his face. Finally planting a soft kiss on his lips. He had completely stopped breathing. When you pulled away he looked absolutely stunned. Cute.
You give him a final look before turning away , walking to the entrance of your building. His eyes following you in silence.
Before you opened the door you turned around to say one last thing. 
“Goodnight , Donghyuck.” And just like that, you disappear. 
After you left him , he stood still in front of your building for 10 minutes. The world was revolving but Donghyuck was absolutely stuck. He needed time to comprehend what just happened , he had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. 
That night when Donghyuck got home , he cried for a bit. Then he got on Overwatch to tell his buddies that he’d be gone for a while. Finally he sprawled himself out on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Occasionally bringing his hand up to rub over his lips, as if rubbing them would take him back to the moment you placed your soft lips on his. As the night got darker , his eyes got heavy. When he finally fell asleep he had a smile on his face and dreamed of you. 
Everything was perfect. 
1K notes · View notes
pomrania · 2 months
Text
Fairy vs Walrus: the game
You are a fairy and a walrus, travelling together bound by that most sacred of pacts, "wouldn't it be hilarious to prank some humans". However, you both have different ideas of how to go about your journeys.
(This is a variant on a game I'd partially written up yesterday; this morning I realized that not only could I adjust it to be about this subject matter, but that would solve one of the problems I'd had regarding end conditions.)
Requirements: two players, one to be the fairy and one to be the walrus; two d6s for each player; the encounter table, below, or make up your own
Here's a basic summary of the gameplay loop. Both players roll their dice. They each say a feature of the scene, and then determine which feature the fairy and walrus go to. If that doesn't conclude the game, then it starts again at a new round; there may or may not be a minor time-skip between rounds.
Encounter Table 1. a depiction of your kind 2. a tasty treat 3. an obstacle you'd need the other party to help you get past 4. a street performer singing a song you like 5. the setup for a stupid pun 6. a human's doorstep (All entries on this table are subjective to each party rolling; an obstacle for a fairy looks very different to an obstacle for a walrus.)
At the start of a round, roll both your dice in secret. One result will correspond to an entry on the encounter table; the other result is how much power you have to go there, whether by force of argument or simply going in that direction until the other party decides to follow instead of getting left behind. You can assign the dice as you choose; so, if you rolled a 3 and a 1, that could mean entry 1 on the table and a 3 for power, or it could mean entry 3 on the table and a 1 for power.
Once both of you have assigned your dice, share the feature from your table’s entry. Figure out together what the scene looks like, such that both elements are present; for example, if the fairy had entry 2 and the walrus had entry 1, this would mean a scene that involves both a depiction of a walrus, and something a fairy would consider a tasty treat. Then, reveal your other dice result, the one for power. If your dice value is higher, then the fairy and walrus go to the feature you'd rolled; the other player describes what happens.
In the event of a tie, where both parties had the same result for their power roll, reroll both dice, and use the new results to compare power. The exception is if the tied results were both 6. In that case, both the fairy and the walrus feel so strongly about going in a certain direction that they do it without regard for the other party, get far enough from each other that the bond strains, and the magic fades; the humans realize that there's an actual walrus among them, and the walrus becomes limited to normal walrus movement. Decide whether you want to end the game there, or continue playing; in the latter case, the fairy arrives in time for the magic to come back, and a bunch of humans are left wondering why they all hallucinated a walrus.
Assuming you don't get too far apart, the game concludes when you manage to show up on some human's doorstep. Describe which of you the human is more surprised to see.
823 notes · View notes
reasonsforhope · 1 year
Text
"It's easy to lose touch with friends, especially when you live far apart. And sometimes the longer you've gone without speaking to someone, the harder it feels to pick up where you left off. However, a new study suggests that reaching out to pals—especially ones that you have not talked to in a while—is even more appreciated than initially thought.
“People are fundamentally social beings and enjoy connecting with others. Yet, despite the importance and enjoyment of social connection, do people accurately understand how much other people value being reached out to by someone in their social circle?” the study asks. To answer this question, the authors gathered 5,900 participants and put them through a series of experiments.
In one scenario, half of the participants were asked to remember the last time they contacted a friend they had fallen out of touch with, then estimate on a seven-point scale how appreciative the person was (with one being the lowest score, and seven being the highest). Then, the other half of the participants were prompted to recall a time when someone had reached out to them and assign a number to how grateful they were. When these two groups were compared, the researchers found that people greatly underestimated the value of reaching out to someone.
“Across a series of preregistered experiments, we document a robust underestimation of how much other people appreciate being reached out to,” the authors continue. “We find evidence compatible with an account wherein one reason this underestimation of appreciation occurs is because responders (vs. initiators) are more focused on their feelings of surprise at being reached out to. A focus on feelings of surprise in turn predicts greater appreciation.”
In another experiment, participants were told to send a note and small gift to a friend they had not interacted with for a long period of time. They were then asked to estimate on a numerical scale how thankful the person would be because of the contact. Additionally, the receivers of the gifts were asked to rank their feelings upon accepting the gift on the same seven-number scale. Once again, the gift-givers greatly underestimated how much their gesture meant to the other person.
The study concluded that reaching out to people—particularly those that you've lost contact with—is almost always appreciated. It can seem challenging to maintain healthy social interactions, especially due to an increased amount of people working from home and a lack of opportunities. But clearly, the evidence suggests that a little extra effort is worth it.
“For those treading back into the social milieu with caution and trepidation,” the study adds, “feeling woefully out of practice and unsure, our work provides robust evidence and an encouraging green light to go ahead and surprise someone by reaching out.”"
-via My Modern Met, 7/31/22
5K notes · View notes
artbyblastweave · 10 months
Text
Still playing Skyrim. And I’m interested to report that the game is actually better than I remember, on balance. But I’m kind of fascinated by what’s going on with Lydia, mechanically and narratively.
Lydia is the first follower who gets shoved in your face just by virtue of following the main quest. There are others you can pick up earlier, but not without finishing errands (for Faendal and Sven), by forking up a pretty big chunk of change for the early game by hiring Janessa, or by going out of your way in some other manner. If you’re completely new to the game and you’re just powering through the main story as it’s presented, she’s the first option for a follower that the game highlights for you in giant blinking neon lights. And as a quest reward, she’s mechanically kind of a godsend at that point in the story; a doubling of carry capacity, an excellent meat shield and distraction, a way to extract utility from weapons and armor you don’t want to use yourself. More subjectively she provides the impression of a stalwart ally or companion in what can be a very lonely worldspace to exist in. There’s very little reason not to take her with you, and once you have her, the majority of companions being equal, there’s very little reason to get rid of her until she stops level scaling.
Despite the mechanical utility Lydia provides at a crucial point, and the resultant likelyhood that you’ll haul her along for the ride, she’s only a couple steps up from the companion cube. She has no specific, non-fungible impact on the narrative beyond demonstrating Jarl Balgruuf’s favor. Her deferral to you is automatic; if someone is actively paying her a salary to help you defile graves, cut deals with every deity on the continent and invade the afterlife, it sure as hell isn’t you. It isn’t clear what her gig under Balgruuf was before she was assigned to you. She has no personal narrative. She has no personal side quest. One of her biggest inklings of personality is when she expresses vague dissatisfaction with being treated as a pack mule, but then she does it anyway.  She’s party to world-shaking events and political upheavals, but she’s present purely in her capacity as your appendix, so reality simply treats her as your plus-one. 
She’ll block doors you’re trying to get through, and she’ll get mad at you if you push her out of the way. She’ll charge into battle or set off traps while you’re trying to sneak. She’ll microaggress you with stock Nord dialogue while pulverizing your enemies, a plurality of whom are also Nords. She’ll distract bosses long enough to buy you breathing room for a healing spell or a potion. You’ll kill her by accident with an ill-timed area-of-effect spell, roll your eyes, and, ultimately, probably reload your save. Because she might only be a couple steps up from a companion cube, but the whole gag with the companion cube is how ridiculously low the threshold is for the audience to get genuinely attached to something in a video game. A thin character invites apophenia. Behaviors that are purely downstream of dev thoughtlessness will still imply character traits if taken at Watsonian Face Value. In this case, inexplicable undying loyalty, reserved comments on impressive landmarks, and comical stoicism in the face of some of the weirdest events it’s conceptually possible to encounter.  So here’s to weird, underbaked companions in Bethesda Games, and everything we can project onto the void they provide. And Here’s to that related genus of character- units in squad-based tactics or management-sim games with permadeath mechanics who last long enough and accumulate enough equipment, skill points, etc. that they become your Special Little Guy despite otherwise lacking any deliberate character traits.
3K notes · View notes
theminecraftbee · 5 months
Text
Here is how to slowly, completely, and irrevocably fall into having someone know your soul as well as you do theirs:
First, be enemies, but of circumstance. Neither of you were really on opposite sides so much as connected to them. You think he loved them, though, that side that was only your enemy by virtue of not being your ally. He loved them, even if he didn't spend as much time with them. You mock him for this. For calling their leader 'king'. (Later, you'll hold onto mockery like it's all you have. You know it's not a game and you know he was really king, but without your ability to make fun of what's happening, you won't be much at all.)
You have a best friend then. This, too, is almost an accident, although to explain all the ways it's also on purpose will take longer than you have to explain. He's wonderful, and loyal, and going to die. So you die fast and young first, before him. You die in front of your friend. You die in front of him.
You don't regret it, the dying young, because it means you die before anyone else can die for you.
Second, watch your best friend fall in love with him, although that phrase feels both too pedestrian and too much like it's overstating the thing that really happens. You have your own drama for too long to really understand how it happens, of course. You're too busy facing a betrayal that will scrape the inside of your soul forever. (To tell the truth, you've already forgiven him for it, but there's something easy about being each other's enemies, so you keep going, orbiting around each other in betrayal betrayal betrayal. But that's someone else who knows your soul, another story.)
Then your best friend dies, as does nearly everyone else. You sit around a campfire with him. You tell him that your best friend trusts him; you'll trust him too. He stands by your side near the end, the two of you running together, another man's memories on your lips.
You're not sure what you regret, then, but you know there's something that won't undo that's a part of you now.
Third, learn the value of choices, as the universe tries its best to take yours from you. In this one, the people you're by the side of is at once familiar and strange. The finalists who'd protected you last time are now an ugly mix of your chosen soulmate and your enemy by making that choice; you attempt to hold on to your ability to choose even as blood makes it clear you can't. (The universe tried to pick someone who would fit you well, you realize later. More people who know your soul that this story isn't actually about. You care for him too, is the thing; you care for choosing more.)
You don't see him much, this time. You respect each other, though. It's hard not to respect each other after everything that's happened. Still, you don't see him, and he doesn't see you. Instead, you see the end of the game. You nearly hold it in your fingers.
You regret. You regret deeply. You are so tired of watching people die, you think, and you regret more than anything else that you couldn't stop it.
Fourth, become enemies, but this time intentionally. Enemies, maybe, is a strong word; you're assigned co-parents, except bad, divorced ones. There's something hysterical about the whole thing, in both the comedic sense of the word and in the original, more concerning sense, especially given the way you all have thought about your best friend-now-son in the past. (Family ties are a thing you'll come to value; it's just that what the names are don't count, really, not when you do this again and again and again. Plus, it's nice to be able to have an excuse to yell.)
It's almost fun again. Maybe it's almost fun. You trade barbs with each other, and try to kill each other, and this time the consequences are light enough that you try to help each other, too. You see each other a lot. You're enemies, of course, but you see each other a lot, as you are: scared, and tired, and not as frightening as you appear, and happy, despite it all.
You don't regret much. You die fast and young, alongside your allies. You see his face before you do though, and you think he's the one with regrets.
Fifth, trip over him as you run across the first session of a new game. You don't know yet what this one will be, if it will be betrayals, or more stolen choices, or family, or fun, or anything else, but you look him in the eyes and make a choice. You will be friends this time instead of enemies. And it's nice. He and you fit together oddly now, but well, despite the oddities. You've had time to learn to, from a distance, and then closer and closer. (People seem baffled you're friends now. You wish you could explain that that's how these stories go sometimes.)
You're pretty certain he'll leave you when the time comes. He says he's a runner, and not a protector, and yet, when the time comes to betray you, you both know he won't hurt you, and you're both surprised anyway.
"You might regret this," you tell him quietly. You both have scars.
"You might regret this," he agrees. But you also both have choices.
"Okay," you say. "Have you ever fallen in love?"
"Cleo," he says, brushing your hair aside, and he doesn't answer.
"I don't think I have," you say honestly. "I think it's something else. Have you ever accidentally given someone a piece of your soul?"
"All the time," he says, and that's that.
The end is coming soon. You'll find out if you regret it.
772 notes · View notes
lilac-5ky · 8 months
Note
TOJI AND VIRGIN READER!
The Favor (officeAU!Toji x virgin!Fem!Reader)
Tumblr media
Plot: The first day you met Toji, he told you everything on his CV was a lie. Three years later, he's your beloved work husband, the one you go to when you decide it's time to lose your virginity.
Tags: Office!AU, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f.receiving), agee gap (reader mid 20s, toji mid 30s), soft!dom toji, dirty talking, praising, pet names (sweetheart, darling, kid, wife, whore, slut, etc), aftercare, toji catches feelings after fucking you, daddy vibes without the word, friends to lovers dynamic, size kink, lube handjob, MDNI obviously.
A/N: Combined your idea with my intense need to write an office!au. Hopefully this turned out to your liking and you forgive me for writing this much filth LMAO
Masterlist | AO3 | Requests
Tumblr media
For promotion, for demotion, for raises and for cuts, in overtime and in bureaucracy, until layoff do us part.
In the insufferable reality of Japanese corporate life, a work spouse exists to shoulder the burden of overdue deadlines and never-ending stacks of paperwork. A husband who, in spite of not being bound to you through marriage, has vowed to stick by your side until either one of you breaks free from the shackles of human resources; your work husband.
You met each other on your first day at the company, both of you passing interviews for the same lowly position of staffing coordinator.
Your first impression of candidate number 9 was that his suit wasn’t really his but was likely borrowed from someone whose bicep wasn’t the size of their thigh and calf combined. Your second impression was whispered to your ear as the dark haired man rose from his chair and paraded down the interview room, nonchalantly letting slip that his bachelor’s degree along with every bit of qualification on his CV had been faked.
Whether that was a declaration of war or a testament to his unparalleled confidence, you wouldn’t know until a week later when you were assigned to the same miserable office corner, sharing a desk, a title, and a secret whose value skyrocketed once you became acquainted with your work place’s imposing policies.
One word would get both him and his knowing smile fired, but the moment you shook hands with Fushiguro Toji and promised to get along, you signed yourself up for a long-lasting partnership.
Over the three years you worked together, each grew out of their initial post. Your all-nighters paid off and you got promoted to an HR assistant, meaning you didn’t have to memorize everyone’s coffee order any longer, while Toji flourished as the department’s eye candy.
He’d ceased pretending that his broad shoulders could be boxed in second-hand suit jackets, and instead opted for rolled-up button-ups with the occasional monochromatic tie—a fit that put his sculpted physique into full view and threw the entire female populace out of balance.
He was an objectively good-looking man who bordered on great. The type to be conscious of their effect on others, cutting corners with suggestive glances and smiling his way out of otherwise unforgivable report oversights. Every woman in the office was openly in love with him. Even your supervisor referred to him as the team’s ace and discreetly unbuttoned her cleavage in his presence.
You realized then, they’d sooner let go of you and your hard-earned master’s, than part with the department’s mascot.
Despite the differences in skill and appearance, your sense of kinship survived the passage of time. Perhaps you’d subconsciously fallen victim to his charms, but whenever you saw his thin brows furrow and his right foot threaten the unresponsive copy machine with a killing blow, you couldn’t look away. This is a favor; you’d remind him at every formal email and resume assessment you helped put together.
And favors are repaid.
While Toji couldn’t assist with payroll processing, he always had the scoop on who cheated on their spouse with whom and whose bra was filled with padding—which you didn’t find all that interesting, but turned into a fun game of guess the cheater during dull 9 a.m. meetings.
On mornings when the alarm was hurled at your bedroom wall, he made excuses for your absence, and on work dinners, he saved you a seat away from all the grabby drunks.
Toji was far from a good person. His mere presence in a company you’d broken your back to get into was a mockery of your efforts. He led others on and got into muffled shutouts over his phone behind the water fountain, where he thought no one was listening in.
That’s how you found out about his eight-year-old kid and the custody battle with his allegedly “psychotic” ex-wife. He didn’t know you knew because you never told him. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, and it wasn’t your job to sort his out. As far as your work marriage was concerned, he was a good husband who diligently fulfilled his marital duties—all except one, which you feared the pretext of a favor wouldn’t begin to cover.
“Here’s your poison,” you slid the scalding coffee cup in his direction, mindful of the papers on his desk. “Black Americano with four shots of espresso and no sugar to compliment your wretched dark soul.”
Toji raised an open palm in your face, motioning for you to wait until he was done punching words on the keyboard and pressed save file. Your eyes were drawn to his fingers, threaded with faded scars that followed the expanse of veins down his wrists, dipping deep below the white cotton of his shirt. Another unsolved mystery you hadn’t gotten to the bottom of.
He brought the cup to his equally scarred lips, defying the steam spirals with a long-drawn sip. “Unnecessary intro, but thanks.” He gave a lazy smile. “Aren’t ya a sweetheart?”
You dropped your beverage on your side of the desk and swiveled your chair nearer. “Think you could do said sweetheart a favor?
“A favor, huh?” His breath was laced with caffeine. “Depends. If you’re asking for a buck, ‘fraid I’m all dried up till the end of the month.”
So he isn’t planning on paying for his order.
“I make more than you.”
“Doesn’t mean ya can’t find yourself in a pickle.”
You shook your head, stealing a sip of liquid courage from your mocha. How did people ask those things again?
Your contemplation lasted long enough for him to turn his head back to work, filling his home screen with enough tabs to distract you from his unfinished round of solitaire.
“What are you doing after work?” Your voice cracked into shards of uncertainty.
“Nice try.”He sneered. “You dug your own grave taking on the grievance procedures from the union. Climb out on your own.”
“Not everyone offloads their work load on others, Toji.” You rolled your eyes, scooting even closer to make sure only he’d be the recipient of your next words.
He sensed something was off because he wasn’t pretending to input random lines into the search bar anymore, and while he studied you, you studied him back. You had your doubts about this, and you weren’t sure he was your type either. You liked your men responsible and mature—like Nanami from sales, who would’ve been your first choice if your legs didn’t turn into jelly the minute you saw him.
Toji was the safe option. You talked to him. You joked with him. You were used to him, and more importantly, you trusted him. All the lack of qualifications in his job, he made up for with his experience in that other field you were a stranger to.
“Hey, kid.” His voice mellowed down with a beat of concern, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. “If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, I—”
“Please have sex with me.”
Tumblr media
“Make yourself at home.” He nudged your back into the apartment, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following even after he’d pulled away.
Moving forward felt hard—as if you’d forgotten how to. You weren’t sure whether to wipe your shoes on the mat or stash them in the corner. You didn’t know which foot to put forth and what set of slippers to pick. Every decision suddenly mattered a lot more than it should.
You’d never been to Toji’s house before, and up until a few hours ago, you couldn’t fathom standing at his doorstep either. You weren’t that close so as to meet outside work hours, but you were about to get a lot more up close and personal.
The way he accepted your request with a mere, almost offensive, okay still boggled your brain. You’d considered every question he could possibly ask, painstakingly compiling your list of answers like a witness called to the stand, only for him to not speak a word of it—not even when it was just you and him and the solitude that came from enjoying lunch a hundred stories above Tokyo’s bustling streets.
He seemed to have forgotten all about your plans, up until he pulled over at the bus stop where you were waiting and stuffed you in the front seat of his car.
“You coming?”
Kicking your heels off your feet, you skipped straight through the hallway, your head turning left and right as if you were at an art gallery. You didn’t know what to expect, but a high-end apartment in the heart of Minato wasn’t it. Neither your income nor his justified an inox steel kitchen with mahogany wood flooring—let alone a direct view of the illuminated Tokyo Tower.
You were so bedazzled by the city skyline that you nearly missed the hastily buried socks peeking beneath the kotatsu, along with the cobwebs his untouched bookshelf flaunted. Much like his suit, his apartment was handed to him by someone whose love for both their books and spouse had run out.
“Whaddya think?”
Toji stalked behind you, his reflection in the glass becoming more defined with every step he took. He was holding something in each hand—two glasses whose orange liquid sparkled in place of the stars.
You turned around slowly, accepting your share with a small smile on your face.
“Your ex-wife has good taste.”
He blinked, taken aback for a split second. He wondered what gave it out—the pink slippers or the flipped-down picture frames you’d yet to notice—and somewhere down the line, he got the wrong idea, beaming with an unwarranted “Thanks.”
“I meant the house, not you.” Although you couldn’t blame him for his inflated ego when every female practically dropped their panties at his feet. Especially not when you were there to do the same.
Your teeth clicked sharply against the glass as you tilted your head and sipped on what tasted too sweet to be whiskey. Apple Juice?
“That’s not alcohol.” You stated.
“Ever thought of becoming a detective?” Toji padded toward the leather couch, spreading his thighs across the two middle cushions.
“Ever thought of becoming a comedian?” You retorted, squeezing in to his left. The furniture would’ve been big enough to fit you both, had he been considerate. “So what’s the joke? Too young to be drinking, or hard liquor ain’t for pretty girls like me?”
“Nah.” His head dropped on his shoulder, both propped against the headrest. “Need you sober for what’s about to happen.”
You mirrored his stance, your knees touching as you folded them on the smooth leather. “And what’s about to happen?”
“I think we both know, or else ya wouldn’t have followed me here.” He wet his bottom lip, pretty green eyes clouding dark.
A certain dryness gnawed at your throat, the pink color of his tongue appealing to you more than it should. You weren’t interested in Toji, but the strands of black that fell over his forehead painted a cuter image than you were used to seeing at the office. You wondered what he’d look like with his hair pushed back, all slick from beads of sweat rolling down his temples. And when you realized you couldn’t pin any of those thoughts on the alcohol, you took another sip, hurriedly averting your gaze.
“How many have? Women from work, I mean.”
You were surprised to hear him state “None,” and even more surprised that he claimed not to mix business with pleasure. You could think of at least three coworkers you suspected he fooled around with. At least so they bragged in the ladies’ room.
“So why bring me home?”
“‘Cause you asked.” Toji said gruffly.
“You fuck every woman who asks you to?”
“Only the cute ones.”
Your cheeks flushed red as you reminded yourself to take his words with a grain of salt. He wasn’t interested in you any more than you were in him. This was simply platonic—almost transactional. He’d do what you asked, and then you’d pay him back with another, mundane favor like sorting mail in his stead.
You finished your drink, your eyes licking up the remaining drops at the bottom of the glass. “This line works?”
Toji shrugged. It probably did. He probably didn’t even have to open his mouth for it to work. While the moment you opened yours—
“Want more?” He motioned to your glass. You nodded, extending your arm, only for his expression to turn sour. “I’m not your fucking maid. Bottle’s on the counter.”
You sighed, getting up so he wouldn’t see your eyes roll at his comment as he shoved his glass in your face. Who’s the maid now?
Aimlessly, you strolled into the kitchen, taking longer than necessary to fill both your glasses. You didn’t mean to start snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself from seeking a sign of his presence in his picture-perfect apartment. Houses typically reveal something about their residents, and while the display of crystal glasses spoke plenty of his ex-wife, there was no evidence of Toji’s personality.
You weren’t interested in him—just curious. That’s what you kept telling yourself as you picked up a frame stowed away behind an empty cookie jar.
Four smiles greeted you, the brightest belonging to a young girl with elongated bangs, holding a boy who strove to copy his sister’s expression. Their parents stood behind them, a beautiful woman with long brown hair tucked in a ponytail blissfully leaning against the shoulder of a Toji that seemed less happy the longer you processed his strained features.
“She left.” The proximity of his voice startled you. The frame danced between your fingers until he snatched it, his jutted-out chin betraying his annoyance. “Took the kids, left the house and me behind. Ain’t that what ya wanted to hear?”
You shook your head, about to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness on his parquet. However, the hostility that rose faded as soon as he threw the picture in the first open drawer and returned to the living room, leaving you to fetch your drinks. Then you remembered the phone calls. They weren’t on good terms.
“Having kids isn’t bad. Nor being divorced.” You handed him the glass, assuming your previous position on the couch. “Doesn’t ruin your cool guy image whatsoever.”
“Who said I care about that?” Toji snorted.
“Then you wouldn’t care if anything slipped in front of your fan club?”
“Mind your own fucking business.” He hissed. You chuckled. Sharing a couch wasn’t that much different from sharing a desk, and sharing two secrets was the same as sharing one.
“What are your kids’ names?”
“Kid,” he corrected. “Megumi.”
By the name, you assumed it was the girl. You were wrong. You tried to ask something about his son’s mother, but somehow you couldn’t find one right thing to say, since the woman in the photo wasn’t the boy’s biological mom either. You were lost. The more cryptic answers he gave, the more unanswered questions you ended up with.
Your plan took a backseat while Toji trod the sensitive topic of his divorce to that “bitch,” who’d taken his kid from him out of spite. The custody battle was tipped in her favor, courtesy of a legal system that’d rather see a child separated from its biological parent in the face of cold cash.
Megumi only visited every second weekend of the month, which explained his father’s eagerness to leave early on certain Fridays and come late on the following Mondays. He didn’t need to say this, but you understood his reasons for cheating his way into the company. A proper job looked good in court, and whatever earned him those scars was far from proper.
Both your hands emptied as you finished your second round of drinks. Your head would be buzzing if there was alcohol involved, but you didn’t miss it. Toji was hard to engage, and talking to him felt like running into one brick wall after another. However, working out of those dead-ends was preferable to clinking glasses with some guy who wouldn’t quit boasting about his Ivy League diploma or his burning passion for vocaloid singers—both cases reflecting the sad reality of blind dating in your twenties.
“So.” Toji drawled, a burly arm stretching behind your head. “Why you want me to fuck you? Can’t find good dick in the market?”
Your mind went blank in an instant, every excuse and curated version of the story vanishing when you needed them the most.
“I—um,” you cleared your throat, while your eyes scanned over his body.
There was a lot to take in: the fine lines of his pecs, highlighted under the taut white fabric; the black tie hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar; the hem of his shirt that dangled out of his fitted pants, exposing the tiniest window to the happy trail on his lower abdomen; his slim waist and his thick thighs; the curve of his bum; and the light touch of his fingers closing around your shoulder. You traced the same route of landmarks, finding yourself returning to his achingly handsome face and the playful curiosity in his eyes that had you shifting in your place.
All the reasons for someone to want to be fucked by this fine specimen of a man were right there, and you picked the most inclusive one. “Because you’re hot.”
The ends of his scar drew apart as Toji smiled a wolfish smile. He inched closer, your back hitting the armrest when his right hand caged your body between his arms and the couch.
“Bullshit.” A tickle from where his nose brushed against yours, and a thud from where your heart dropped inside your chest. “You think I wouldn’t know if ya had the hots for me, kid?”
“N-not everyone throws themselves at others.” You tried to reason.
“Maybe. But attraction comes with signs.” The side of his hand grazed the corner of your eyelid. “Batting your pretty lashes,” he trailed off, rough knuckles softly tracing the apple of your cheek. “Blushing your cheeks red.” The pad of his thumb swiped down your cupid’s bow. “Biting your lip raw.” He continued with his eyes, glancing at the skirt that lay high above your knees suggestively. “Pressing those plushy thighs together.”
“You do none ‘f those things.” Toji accused. “So why the sudden itch? Indulge me, and I’ll pound that pussy till ya scream.”
The promise of his words forced a gulp down your throat as your thighs involuntarily rubbed together. You started to reconsider. You didn’t want to fuck him just because any man would do. You wanted to fuck him because it was him and because every patch of skin he made contact with begged to be touched again.
“I’m a virgin.” You admitted, voice low, and stare even lower—utterly defeated as he flinched away in surprise.
You wondered what he’d say. A virgin at your age? was the most common response, followed by Is something wrong with you? and typically concluded with You sure you’re not a lesbian?
Everyone preaches how precious innocence is, but no one wants the pressure of taking it. What men really want is a woman who is both a saint and a slut—a woman who can suck their dick ten inches deeper than they can provide while simultaneously shying away from every insinuation of sex.
The problem is with the poor souls who belong in either category without adhering to the other, because squeezing your legs shut is just as faulty as spreading them open for the public.
Seeing as Toji remained silent, you realized you wouldn’t get an answer, and maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want to put a strain on your work relationship. It’d take a while to look him in the eye again, but in a month or two, you’d laugh about the incident over a cup of soggy store-bought noodles like nothing happened.
“Sorry for bothering you.” You mumbled as you picked up your last vestige of dignity and stood on your feet, only to be anchored by a set of fingers that tightly gripped your wrist.
“Sit.” His unfaltering gaze confirmed the sincerity of his command.
You thought about breaking free and dashing to the door. You thought about how much it’d actually hurt to let him ridicule you, and the tears started to build up on their own. And when you didn’t do as you were told, he towered over you with a palm that was eager to cup your cheek, tilting your face in position for him to print a rough kiss on your parted lips.
“I said fucking sit.” Toji repeated, while you contemplated how someone who spews words so harshly could have such soft lips.
Sheepishly, you fell back onto the couch, expecting him to follow suit and not kneel on the floor like he did. “What’s the story?” He asked, large hands taking hold of your knees and slowly rubbing them apart.
“What makes you think there’s a story?” You prayed that he couldn’t feel your heartbeat bounce across your body as if it were an empty vessel.
“With you, there always is.” He licked his lips as his eyes settled between your thighs, darkening with lust the second they were met with the damp patch in the middle of your pink lace knickers. “Wanna hear all about it while I feast on your little hole.”
“You’re not gonna fuck—”
“First things first, sweetheart. Gotta make sure y’are all prepped before I stuff you with my cock.” Toji smiled, pushing your skirt until it rolled over your stomach. “If ya gonna scream my ears off, better be from pleasure, mm?”
You nodded, watching as his slender fingers slid your underwear off and temporarily—you hoped—shoved it in his back pocket. You saw him marvel at the sight of your exposed cunt and wished you could peer into his brain to hear him curse himself for not coming up with this idea first.
You looked so pretty down there, your puffy clit safely tucked behind its hood while your lips shimmered with your wetness—the scent so intoxicating his pants tightened into a size too small.
He was already considering his next favor. Now that the door was open, he’d make sure it never closed again. Bending you over the copy machine was the front-runner. Getting a print of your tits squeezed against the scanner while he blows your back, his palm muffling out the pathetic sounds you let slip—he’d be lying if that wasn’t what he fantasized about whenever you refilled the ink cartridges for him.
“Ya ever touch yourself here?”
His thumb swiped over your clit, drawing an incomplete circle that ended with light flicks around the sensitive nub. Left and right. Up and down. Searching for the combination that’d have your body answer in place of your mouth, and when your hips bucked forward, he knew exactly where to press.
“Y-yes!” You whined, more as a reaction than an answer to his question.
“And ya ever push a finger in?” He continued, teasingly dragging his thumb between your lips.
“Just one. Rest hurt.”
“Mhm, bet they do.” He hummed as he tasted you on his finger, exaggerating the suck with a soft pop. “Ever had a guy kiss ya there before?”
Toji gave his own answer as he buried his head in your pussy, the sticky mix of his saliva and your juices trickling down your entrance while he made out with your clit. You struggled to keep your thighs apart, the raspy grunts at the back of his throat vibrating against your mound in joint symphony with your breathy moans. His tongue felt so good soaking on your slick that you felt yourself melting into a pool of pleasure.
“Get talkin’ or I’ll stop.” He warned, slowing down with broad, near-maddening, strokes that occasionally dipped between your folds.
“I wanted to w-wait,” you panted. “Wanted to fall in love first, but then I waited too long, and—ngh, fuck, right there!” Toji pinched your folds apart, his stare lecherous as he sucked the puffy pearl into his warm mouth.
Your body jerked in response, the leather squeaking hard beneath your bared ass. You weren’t sure at what point interest surpassed curiosity, but the signs were all there, manifesting as heat in your cheeks and blood that threatened to drop from your chewed-up lip.
His jade eyes narrowed into a shrewd reminder. Putting your thoughts in order was impossible, but if you stopped, so would he.
“Everyone ‘round me started d-doing it, and I was the only one l-left.” You tried to regulate your breathing through your nose, your throat turning hoarse from all the strain. “Went on a bunch of blind dates, but the guys were t-turned off, and—how the fuck are you so good at this?”
Toji chuckled, the pink tip of his tongue parting your lips in a languid motion that made you shudder. “Let’s just say my marriage didn’t fall apart ‘cause of this.”
He mounted your knees atop his shoulders and neared your entrance, with his middle and ring fingers ghosting over the softness of your pulsing slit. “Gonna use my fingers now. Be a good girl and cum on them, will ya?”
The first digit pushed forward, much thicker than any of your fingers. You felt so full already—nails digging into the cushions, while he thrust in and out of your walls, curling the lone pad to find a spot so sweet it elicited a moan of equal sweetness.
“Ya did well to come to me.” He continued, his raspy voice effortlessly sexy. “Kids these days don’t know shit ‘bout pleasing a woman.”
The veins on his wrist flexed along with his scars as his ring finger joined in the action to defy your previous claim. There was no pain. Only immense waves of pleasure leaking through your squinted eyes as hot tears beaded your eyelashes.
“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’.” He praised, repeatedly hitting the swollen bundle of nerves inside your throbbing cunt, bringing you closer to the edge with each thorough pump.
“Maybe I was wrong, hm? Maybe that’s what ya wanted all along. I know I did. Fucking wanted my hands on this pussy since I first saw ya fidget with your little skirt at that interview.”
“Toji—”
He dived between your legs again, his hand maintaining the same erratic pace even while his tongue hungrily lapped at your clit. Your head lolled back, the tension in your guts rapidly building up until you came undone, your pussy clenching and creaming around his calloused fingers.
You’d never finished so hard on your own, the tremors of your orgasm ringing in your ears and jogging your memory.
Your first impression on that day was sadness, right? Sadness over the wedding band the handsome stranger hid in his pocket right before entering the building, thinking no one else caught sight of it, and embarrassment about how your impure thoughts for a married man followed you into the shower every night after work.
“Atta girl.” A present-day and very-much divorced Toji licked his lips into a smile. “Their fucking loss.”
His knee pressed into the gap between your thighs as he stood on his feet and prompted you to open your lips. You took his fingers in your mouth, licking your cum off while your chest heaved with one labored breath after the other.
“See how good ya taste?” Toji cooed, rhythmically fucking his fingers on your tongue before removing them. “Sweeter than honey.”
“Thought you didn’t like sweet things.” His coffee order came in mind.
“How ‘bout we make an exception?”
You weren’t sure what got into you when you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward, kissing him with such vigor you’d never experienced. You always thought of losing your virginity as checking an item off your bucket list. You didn’t imagine you could ever lust after someone the way you currently lusted after Toji, your desire escalating into an all-consuming need.
His tongue moved as skillfully in your mouth as it did when it explored your pussy, dancing with your own rather than overpowering it. You liked kissing him. You liked kissing him so much that you wanted to incorporate it into your morning hellos and your evening goodbyes, dragging yourselves into an endless loop of returned favors.
Without breaking the kiss, Toji hoisted you up from the couch and held you in his arms, his palms finding the perfect excuse to grab onto your ass while he carried you across rooms you didn’t care enough to see. A door creaked behind your back, and soon you were tossed onto a large body of endless softness—a bed, you realized as Toji hastily shoved a couple of pillows behind your head.
“Ever heard of that stupid nickname that goes ‘round work?” He whispered in your ear while his fingers worked on undoing your blouse. “How they call ya my work wife?” His palms slid around your ribs and back to unhook your bra. “Guess this makes it our wedding night, heh.”
You rolled your eyes, holding back a chuckle. “Don’t you feel any shame calling me your wife when you’re about to fuck me on your ex-wife’s bed?”
“My bed now, and what I say fucking goes.” He stripped your body from every garment, salaciously gawking at your nude figure on his (her) satin sheets.
You didn’t feel too bad about showing your body, but his stare was almost intrusive—especially with how he hadn’t lost a single article of clothing himself.
“Such a gorgeous body, wife.” He dragged out the final syllables, hoping to elicit a reaction separate from the soft pants you let out as he caressed your soft curves—both much softer than the bedding you were splayed across, liquid velvet in his hands. “Such a good little wife, saving herself for her husband to deflower.”
“Why thank you, husband.” You chortled, cupping his face in a deep kiss.
You knew Toji was the right choice. Not because touching him felt like winning the lottery or because he knew exactly what he was doing, but because he could’ve made this situation a lot more awkward and didn’t. He made your first time feel special, granting your wish of doing it with someone you loved, even if it was all an illusion that’d fade come tomorrow morning.
You almost thanked him as he began to unbutton his shirt, the display of corded muscles and pale scars breaking the dam between your legs. Whatever your type might’ve once been, was no more. It was all Toji, with his clenched fists lifting the weight of his brawny, veiny arms, his shoulders so wide you could ride on them, and the self-complacent smirk your stupefied expression brought to his lips.
“This ain’t an exhibit, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You can touch all ya want.”
He didn’t need to say it twice for your palms to roam his body, starting from his neck and slowly gliding down his torso, feeling out the tension in his steeled abdomen. His skin was smooth, except for the few unruly hairs leading down to the bulge in his crotch, whose sight alone made you lick your lips and buck your hips into his. You wanted to see the rest of him.
“You are the hottest divorcee I know.” You smiled earnestly.
“Ya know lots of ‘em?” Toji cocked his head while you shook yours with a giggle. “Don’t be so flattering.”
“I do have a great-aunt…”
“Oh, please.” He groaned, allowing you to laugh it out. He didn’t like how his bottom lip twitched as he struggled to contain a chuckle of his own. He’d long sworn off girls that made his heart skip a beat.
“Think y’are ready?” You nodded. Repeatedly.
Digging his knees into the bed, he stretched an arm toward the nightstand, fishing for a bottle in one of the drawers. Lube, you realized as he settled it beside you to remove his pants, flinging them along with his boxers to the other side of the room.
Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, an expression that didn’t look too good considering fear was about the last emotion you should be experiencing.
He was packing in every sense of the word. Long, thick, and definitely heavy as it hung above his hefty balls, the reddened tip pointing at your entrance. It wasn’t like you’d never seen a cock before. Porn existed, and so did perverts in trench coats, but comparing either one to him was both disrespectful and a huge understatement.
“Don’t go cold on me now, mm? It will fit.” He read your mind, taking your hand in his and slotting the bottle in your fist. “Prepped you so good for it. You’ll see; you’ll like this more than my fingers.”
“Promise.” He added, squeezing your hand reassuringly. You chose to trust him, and when he brought your other hand to his shaft, you knew what he was asking you to do.
The bottle spurted a thick glob of liquid that your palm smeared all over his cock head. Toji watched with bated breath as you stroked his length, each thorough pump of your delicate hands warming him up.
He deserved a pat on the back for not cumming right then and there—the distinction between the clear lubricant and his creamy precum becoming more prominent while he throbbed and twitched in your tight grasp. He thought about how much tighter your walls would be, milking every drop he had to offer while you writhed beneath him, with little ah-ah-ah’s and Toji please’s complimenting the squelching of your tight virgin cunt.
“That’s enough.”
He pulled your hand away and cracked the bottle open once more, rubbing a small quantity between his fingers and then scissoring them in your walls. You clung onto him, your hips chasing after his touch. Cute.
“Eyes on me, darlin’.” Toji leaned close enough so that your field of view was consumed by his face. “Keep your eyes on me, breath in ‘n’ out, and it won’t hurt one bit. I’ll take good care of ya.”
Your legs were parted as he ran his cock between your folds and pressed down firmly, his hand moving to your hip once he guided the first inches inside.
Toji was the first to react as he sank in deeper, about two-thirds in when he felt your pussy snare around him like a vice, the warmth of your walls making him curse under his breath. His last fuck was less than a weekend ago, and yet he felt like one of those loser kids he scorned earlier. He’d forgotten just how good being inside a virgin was—a one-and-done deal that would cease to amaze him after he fucked you into his shape.
“All good?” He remembered to ask, taking your strained yes at face value.
Small creases formed over your forehead, contorting your expression into a pained wince the further he sheathed himself into your wet cavern—and when his words weren’t enough, his lips took over. He kissed your worries away and cradled your breasts in his palms, doing everything in his power to keep the pain to a minimum as his hips met with your pelvis, bone against bone and skin against skin, until he finally bottomed out.
A whimper cut your kiss short, and for a second he feared tears would stream from your glassy eyes, not considering the possibility of your shaky legs wrapping around his back and your swollen, pretty lips calling out his name with a stuttered moan.
“F-fuck me, Toji. Please—fuck, I need you so badly.” You begged, dropping the pretense of composure.
“Yeah? Want me to fuck your little virgin pussy?”
“Y-yes, Toji, yes!”
“Yes, what, doll?” He teased. “Say it.”
“Please be my first, Toji.”
His grin turned feral in a heartbeat, your words stirring something in him that he could not explain.
He was prepared to spend the entire night fucking you at a snail’s pace, buttering you up with praises, and pampering you as if you were a golden egg goose, but now he didn’t have to. He could fuck you exactly how he pleased—fold your knees onto your stomach and hold down onto your thighs, pussy all exposed to where he could watch his cock pound into your hole and hear each and every strike of his balls against the fat of your ass—and you would take it.
But when he looked down and saw the ring of red that’d formed around his shaft, he had a change of heart. Maybe another time.
Planting his fingers on your hips, he withdrew slightly, purposely aligning his tip with the roof of your cunt. He didn’t have to go hard to make you happy. All he had to do was hit that one spot, and you’d be coming back for more. Having a steady thing wouldn’t hurt either. It was convenient—certainly better than burning gas driving across town just to pick up some random slut he’d tire of five minutes into her over-the-top screams. At least you lived close by.
With lavish strokes, he rolled his hips against your own, dipping forward to grind his pubic bone against your mound. It didn’t take long for the stimulation to get overwhelming, your hair falling from your strict work up-do all over your sweaty forehead while you thrashed around the sheets, huffs escalating into whiny moans.
“Sh-shit, gonna cum, Toji.” You managed, though there was no real need to tell him.
Your body responded perfectly to his, wetness gushing over his cock while your walls tightened impossibly around him. He fucked you through your high, wrapping his arms below your shoulders and muting your blissful sobs to chase after his own release. Your breasts were squeezed against his pecs, pebbled nipples making him regret not giving them the proper attention.
This wouldn’t be the last time. Your body was like a playground to him, and he sure as hell wasn’t done playing.
“My fucking work wife.” Toji grunted possessively in your ear, nipping at the lobe. Only his lower half moved, a constant snap of hips bouncing through the room as the second lewdest sound after the ones you traded. “Wanna send your ass crawling to work on all fours. That’ll show them, mm? Show them who fucked you so good. What a—fuck, what a good slut y’are f’me. From a virgin to my whore—hah, make ‘em all so jealous.
“Shhhhit, ya like that?” He interpreted your clenching as he willed. “Wanna start a rumor? Fuck on every desk, in every stall, and have everyone know?”
“Yes, Toji! Yesyesyes, want everyone to know you f-fucked me.”
You went back and forth between panting out his name and chanting yes, as those were the only two words you could mindlessly repeat. He wasn’t joking about making you scream. You were on the verge of passing out, so engrossed in ecstasy that you’d lost track of how many times you’d climaxed.
“‘s too much, T-Toji!” You begged, burying your head in the curve of his neck and breathing in his musk. You were both so sweaty, glued together like two puzzle pieces.
“One more, sweetheart. ‘m so close—wanna feel ya cum with me.”
He toyed with your clit until he started to fall out of pace, drawing his cock out before it was caught in the spasms of your pussy. A hefty load burst in his fist as he jerked himself off to your fucked-out form, hot drops of cum spraying your stomach like creamy droplets of rain.
Neither of you realized how soaked the sheets were until Toji left the bed, his eyes not faking their surprise. You didn’t seem to be in that much pain, and yet the amount of blood and wetness was at least equal to carnage.
Would it be a dick move to task you with his laundry?
He spared you a glance, not bothering to hide his smugness. Your legs were still trembling, your breasts puffing up in your struggle to breathe through your agape lips. He was tempted to tell you off—something cheesy like, “Want somethin’ in your mouth that badly?”
“Hey, kid. You are not dead—are you?” He asked jokingly, laughing through his nose as you found the strength to flip him off. Now that the effects of your orgasm were wearing off, so was your obedience.
“How’d ya like your first time?” A thumbs-up this time. “A’right. C’mere.”
The longer he let the stain settle, the more of a bitch it’d be to remove it. That’s what Toji told himself as he picked you up in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, returning to the bedroom only to roll the sheets into a ball he’d later discard in the washing machine. He wasn’t avoiding looking at your cute face, and he definitely didn’t think of your weakened infant-like state as cute when he scrubbed your thighs clean with a wet towel either.
A weird image sparked in his memory, one from the many nights you’d spent working side by side at a dimly lit office. He remembered you ordering him takeout and looming over his head like a vulture while he went neck-to-neck with the vicious spreadsheet program. You insisted on tutoring him, claiming your dressy outfit was a result of canceled plans—even though you kept stealing glances at the clock—and staying with him until the wee hours when you didn’t have to.
You really were a sweetheart, an angel, and all the other terms of endearment he used on you knowing they made your lips stretch and your eyes sparkle. But that wasn’t for you to know.
“Toji?” Your voice jolted him out of his reverie—frail, but not as frail as the hands that wrapped around his own to snatch the towel.
What could he say to make you leave without any harsh feelings coming back to bite him in the ass?
He pondered his options while you bent forward from where he’d seated you on the counter by the sink. You held his limp dick in your palm, gently wiping the dried blood and cum that clung to his girth.
It was sickening how quickly he stiffened, all ready to ram it in your pussy and fuck you with the mirrored view of your ass in the backdrop, but what truly made his guts churn was the little cheeky smile you beamed with. He stood by his words. Virgins were the biggest sluts.
The towel dropped to the floor as you pointed his cock at your entrance, and that was all the convincing he needed.
“Fine.” Toji sighed, pinning your wrists on the cold quartz counter top. “You can stay the night, but mention work and I’m kicking ya out.”
This is definitely not how you say it.
Tumblr media
You made it to the office the next day after a brief raid on your apartment. Going to work in your previous day’s clothes screamed, “Look at me! I got laid!” And as fun as creating all those fantasies with Toji was, you could do without earning “Hated Employee of the Month.” Everyone hated you for being friends with him as is.
He waited until you’d changed into a presentable outfit and dropped you off a block further away for precaution. You shared your final kiss in the car, wasting a whole fifteen minutes sucking each other’s faces off like teenagers at a drive-in. Dating a colleague was against the rules, and you didn’t want to date Toji either. Not that he’d asked. Not that you expected him to ask.
Losing your virginity was a lot more complicated than you thought.
He counted on you to bring coffee, and you would have if an intense craving for spicy tuna onigiri didn’t win you over. The convenience store was right around the corner, and its coffee was honestly not that bad if you squinted your eyes and fooled your senses a bit.
You grabbed two onigiri from the stand—in case Toji felt like stealing yours—along with an apple juicebox, both as a means of thanking and poking fun at him. You paid for the items and walked to the office, nauseated by the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You should’ve really eaten something instead of having your final hookup at the breakfast table.
A few people greeted you in and out of the elevator to the forty-seventh floor, some commenting on your looking less gloomy than usual, but that was about it. The world spun the same way it did even before you had sex. No big change or mind-blowing epiphany; just a euphoric feeling of accomplishment that dissipated the moment you saw the stack of documents waiting on your desk.
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Toji magically sprouted from behind, loaded binders balanced on his arms—the same arms that’d lavished you with affection all night long. “They had a fall out at one of the subsidiaries, and now we gotta clean up their shit.”
And back to reality we go.
“Where’s my coffee?” He searched for a cup on his desk.
You pushed your desperation aside and held the juice to his face with a smile that turned awkward the longer he took to accept it.
“It’s um, you know.” You stepped closer, placing the box atop his mountain of files. “Thank you.”
“Also, got you this, so don’t even think of taking mine.” You balanced the onigiri beside the juice and plopped down on your chair, an antsy, blushing mess that refused to meet his stare until he looped an arm around your headrest and attached his mouth to your ear.
“Care to do me a favor?”
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
doumadono · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
♡ Dabi ♡
Dabi, maintaining his usual nonchalant demeanor, brushes off Valentine's Day as insignificant. "It's just another day," he grumbles when you inquire about plans, his gaze fixed on something distant.
Despite his indifference towards the holidays of any kind, Dabi ensures that you feel loved every day. He might not express it verbally, but through his actions, like a gentle touch or a shared glance, he conveys his affection.
Dabi, surprisingly in touch with emotions, recognizes that you might have different expectations for Valentine's Day. "I get it, you want some romantic crap. Fine," he reluctantly admits, acknowledging the importance it holds for you.
Instead of traditional gifts, Dabi puts thought into finding something unique that resonates with you. It could be a rare book, a piece of artwork, or an item related to your hobbies. "I figured you'd like this better than some cliché crap, doll," he remarks.
During the day, Dabi might express his affection in subtle ways. A brush of his fingers against yours, a lingering glance, a warm hug, a rare smile or a shared cigarette.
Dabi, not one for grand gestures, suggests spending quality time together. "We can do whatever you want."
Dabi prefers low-key activities, so he suggests a casual day out rather than an extravagant date. It could be a stroll through a less crowded part of town or a visit to a place that holds personal significance.
Dabi values private moments over public displays of affection. He might pull you aside for a quiet conversation or a shared moment away from prying eyes, kissing you passionatelly in an alley after picking the order from your favourite restaurant.
In the evening, Dabi might create a quiet, intimate atmosphere. He pulls you close, whispering, "I'm not good with words, but you know what you mean to me, right?" His actions speak louder than any declaration.
The evening is peaceful, just the two of you, enjoying each other's company without the need for excessive words.
Tumblr media
♡ Shigaraki ♡
Shigaraki openly expresses his disdain for Valentine's Day, dismissing it as a celebration that glorifies something horrific. "It's just a stupid, commercialized excuse to sell crap. I don't get the hype," he grumbles.
Despite his aversion, when he notices your excitement for the occasion, Shigaraki chooses to bite his tongue.
In a rare show of consideration, Shigaraki instructs Kurogiri to order a bouquet of your favorite flowers from the local florist. This act of embracing the holiday, even reluctantly, is his way of showing that he cares about your happiness.
"I don't get why people like this crap, but if it makes you happy, I'm willing to change my mind."
Shigaraki, true to his personality, prefers a minimalist celebration. Instead of grand gestures, he might suggest a quiet evening or a simple dinner, keeping the focus on the two of you without succumbing to excessive sentimentality.
He ensures that all the League of Villains members are assigned unexpected additional missions, even though they may express their discontent. Shigaraki wants to spend this day with you only.
As the day progresses, Shigaraki might quietly observe your joy. "You better appreciate this. I don't do this for just anyone," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, showing that your happiness matters to him.
For the evening, Shigaraki proposes an anti-romantic movie night, selecting films that defy typical romantic clichés. "None of that sappy stuff. Let's watch something that doesn't make my teeth hurt," he suggests.
As you drift into slumber nestled in his embrace, he delicately traces patterns on your back with his pinky cautiously elevated to prevent any accidental decay. "I love you, little Y/N," he whispers, even though he's well aware that you're already lost in the realm of dreams.
Tumblr media
♡ Bakugo ♡
Valentine's Day, according to Bakugo, is a bothersome and superficial affair, hiding behind a facade of fake sentimentality. Ranting about the superficiality of the day, Katsuki loudly declares, "I don't need some capitalist crap to tell me when to appreciate someone, tsk!"
"It's a dumb day. Why should I care?" Initially dismissing the idea of celebrating, he flaunted his lack of interest until the sight of your disappointment shattered his nonchalant façade.
Experiencing a pang in his chest, he noticed your lower lip trembling as you tried to assure him that you didn't need to participate. Even though he often expressed his emotions through actions, he couldn't shake the feeling that this time might be different.
With a resigned sigh, he swallows his pride, extending a genuine apology. He confesses to a change of heart, "Look, I changed my damn mind. No harm in spending time together or making this stupid day special, I guess. You're important or whatever."
Bakugo, true to himself, plans unconventional celebration. "If we're gonna do this, we'll do it my goddamn way. Tsk, I heard there's a place with those damn fluffy dogs. Don't get any ideas, I just thought it might be amusing or something," he grumbles, leading you to a Shiba cafe.
Bakugo finds himself in a rare, awkward position as one of the dogs playfully jumps on him. "Stupid mutt, get off!" he protests, but you catch a fleeting, embarrassed smile as he secretly enjoys the canine attention.
As you both sip coffee surrounded by Shiba Inu companions, Bakugo, unaccustomed to public displays of affection, reaches for your hand under the table and rubs its top with his thumb while drinking his espresso.
The sheer joy on Bakugo's face as a Shiba snuggles against him is a sight to behold. He attempts to hide it with a dismissive comment, "They're just damn dogs, but whatever, they're kinda cute, I guess."
Upon arriving home, Bakugo could catch you off guard by presenting a dessert skillfully shaped like a heart. "It's stupid, but fine. You better eat it," he grumbles, a touch of pride in his eyes surfacing as you commend his cooking prowess.
As the day draws to a close, Bakugo may catch you off guard with an unforeseen tender moment – enfolding you in his sturdy arms, drawing you snugly against his robust chest. He gently massages your shoulders and plants affectionate kisses on your face. "I love you, Y/N. Make sure you never forget that," he declares, his words carrying a sincerity that transcends his usual gruff demeanor.
Tumblr media
♡ Shoto ♡
While Shoto may come across as indifferent to Valentine's Day, the truth is, he's like a child eagerly anticipating a visit to a candy store, envisioning a day filled with profound love shared with you.
Shoto brims with an unusual level of excitement, eager to shower you with pampering and spoils. While he typically engages in such gestures, this time, he has elaborate plans under wraps – surprises that would catch you off guard and leave you pleasantly astonished.
On Valentine's morning, you wake up to the irresistible aroma of a homemade breakfast. Shoto, armed with a chef's apron, presents a heart-shaped feast, each dish crafted with precision and love. As you enter the kitchen, he greets you with a warm smile, "Happy Valentine's Day. This is just the beginning."
Throughout the day, you discover tiny love notes strategically placed in unexpected corners. Each note holds sweet affirmations, showcasing Shoto's meticulous effort to sprinkle your day with joy.
In a quiet moment, Shoto presents you with a carefully crafted, handmade gift. It could be a piece of art, a personalized item, or something that holds sentimental value. He shyly admits, "I wanted to make something special for you. I hope you like it."
Unbeknownst to you, Shoto unveils a surprise date that surpasses all expectations. "I thought we could spend the day doing things you enjoy. It's all about making you happy." From a tranquil picnic in the park to a spontaneous dance under the stars, every moment is curated to create lasting memories.
Upon returning home, as evening approaches, Shoto unveils a cozy haven, complete with blankets and your favorite snacks. The ambiance exudes warmth, inviting you to unwind and revel in the tranquility of your shared love.
The day concludes with a handwritten love poem, penned by Shoto himself. Each line is an eloquent expression of his feelings, capturing the nuances of your connection in words as sweet as the love that binds you.
Before you retire for the night, Shoto pulls you into a gentle embrace. "Thank you for being with me. Happy Valentine's Day," he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.
Tumblr media
♡ Hawks ♡
Upon waking up on Valentine's Day, you're greeted with a pile of gifts neatly arranged beside the bed. Hawks, unable to contain his excitement, watches for your reaction with a grin. "Happy Valentine's Day, babe. Open them up!"
Hawks takes Valentine's Day as the ultimate opportunity to showcase his love. From breakfast in bed to surprise outings, he plans an entire day filled with over-the-top affectionate gestures. "Get ready for a day all about you, songbird."
Hawks, with his love language being gift-giving, meticulously selects each present. "I thought of everything you might like. You're worth it," he mentions as you uncover thoughtful and personalized gifts.
The day unfolds with whimsical adventures – perhaps a surprise trip to an amusement park or an impromptu picnic. Hawks is determined to make the day unforgettable.
Throughout the day, Hawks showers you with unexpected compliments. "You know, you're the best thing that ever happened to me," he confesses.
As the day progresses, Hawks concludes with a romantic dinner, whether it's a home-cooked meal or a reservation at a fancy restaurant. "To us and many more Valentine's Days to come," he toasts, a warmth in his golden eyes.
As the day comes to a close, Hawks proposes the idea of late-night stargazing. Draped in blankets, both of you settle on the spacious balcony of his apartment. Hawks, pointing out constellations, weaves stories of the night sky. "Just us and the stars. Can't beat a moment like this, huh?"
As the day winds down, Hawks might surprise you with a midnight snack. "Can't end the day on an empty stomach. Here, your favorite, babybird," he says, presenting a thoughtful treat.
As you both drift into a peaceful slumber wrapped in each other's arms, Keigo can't help but revel in the profound happiness that washes over him. Having found the love of his life, he's determined to cherish this precious connection on a daily basis, not just during Valentine's Day.
681 notes · View notes
slytherinslut0 · 4 months
Note
hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??
Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.
Tumblr media
(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))
tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->
tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.
hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.
tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.
not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.
i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.
i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->
perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.
originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.
there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.
your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.
his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.
tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.
he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.
which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.
he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.
however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.
your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.
he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.
he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.
it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.
your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.
it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.
as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.
during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.
surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.
tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.
the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.
he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.
however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.
perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.
it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.
you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.
observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.
his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.
the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.
perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.
he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.
he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.
he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.
and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.
the man moves at his own pace.
so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.
and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.
if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.
and this might have annoyed some, but not you.
you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.
eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.
and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.
your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.
whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.
making you his.
without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.
you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.
as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.
pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”
the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.
of course, you’d be his.
1K notes · View notes
psychedelic-ink · 6 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒
ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x jack daniels
Tumblr media
genre: smut, minors dni, dude ranch au, modern au
word count: 7.7k
summary: joel challenges jack to make you into the finest there possibly is in two days.
warnings: threesome (mfm), mlm dynamics, some jealousy, outdoor sex, piv, oral sex, dirty talking
a/n: happy birthday @fuckyeahdindjarin 🎉 I hope you enjoy you slutty cowboys--both of them nearly gave me a heart-attack while writing ❤️‍🔥 this gif was made my the lovely @pedrorascal who I am so grateful for helping me out preparing your this bday surprise!
**dividers by @saradika
Tumblr media
You take a breath and sneak out of the cozy room. It had been hard parting away from your cozy bed. The warmth provided by the hand-knitted blanket and the scent of delicious wood made you want to never leave. They’ve really done a great job decorating the rooms of the dude ranch. It still holds the Western theme you love, but it's also adorned with rustic charm, from the weathered leather furniture to the handcrafted wooden accents, creating a welcoming atmosphere.
It had been a couple of days since your arrival. You were tired of... well, everything and desperately needed an out. You wish you could say that it happened like in the movies— a divine sign that made you come here, but no. There was no divine intervention, no mysterious flyer sticking to your face. You had to do an endless amount of research to find the perfect place, and when you were done, you picked the ranch that had the least foot traffic. You were running away from people. Choosing the most touristy one would defeat the purpose—you wanted to be alone.
And you were glad that you did. The place was amazing. Surrounded by large mountains and wide fields. This place wasn’t so people would come and see what was what. It was an actual ranch with actual people working all the time. Accepting guests was the side hustle and not the other way around. 
There were two cowboys that you constantly saw: Joel Miller and Jack Daniels. Both charming, both handsome enough to make you want to scream. Jack had been personally assigned to you, but Joel was always around, watching, observing, and, of course, running his mouth. You’ve grown accustomed to their odd friendship... rivalry? It was actually kind of cute to see Jack turn all red whenever Joel said something to undermine him. And the other seemed to know that well.
Two talented cowboys. And you, who had no idea what the hell you were doing. 
Which is why you were escaping your room like some kind of criminal at the brink of dawn. Joel’s teasing wasn’t only reserved for Jack, you got your fair share as well and it was even worse when Jack chimed in—the two seasoned horse riders letting you know just how out of your element you were. You needed to train without those two constantly spitting quips your way.
You silently make your way to the stables and blindly reach out towards Honeydust, the palomino Jack had gotten you accustomed to. You gently guide her away from the other horses. The rose-pink light of dawn has begun to trickle through the open windows, painting Honeydust’s coat in a gorgeous hue. You regret not bringing your phone; you would’ve loved to show Jack and Joel later on.
“Alright girl,” you mutter as you pat the side of her face. She whinnies slightly and digs her hoof into the ground. “It’s you and me. Let’s show them how it’s done.” 
As you reach for the saddle, you smile to yourself. You might not be that good at horse riding yet but you did learn some things—like the value of a good saddle. You take a moment to inhale the scent of it— a mix of leather, hay, and a hint of earthiness.
Honeydust stands patiently, seemingly aware of your fumbling attempts to secure the saddle. You take a deep breath, remembering the lessons Jack patiently gave you about saddling up. Slowly but surely, you manage to get everything in place. As you tighten the cinch, you feel a sense of accomplishment. A week ago, you hadn’t been able to do this. Maybe you're not a full-on cowboy, but you're determined to learn the ropes.
With the saddle secured, you grab the reins and lead Honeydust out of the stable, into the cool morning air. The sky is a canvas of pastel colors—blues, pinks, and golds blending together as the sun inches higher. It's a breathtaking sight. You pat Honeydust on the muzzle and press your cheek against her, watching the sky.
“Isn’t it beautiful,” you whisper to her. “Honestly I’m gonna hate going back. It’s been a couple of days and I’m already attached to this place.” 
Honeydust snorts and shakes her head. You smile wide as you pat her again, “You’re right. No room for sentimentality.” 
Mounting Honeydust, you settle into the saddle, adjusting to the feel of it beneath you. The quiet creak of leather is drowned out by the sounds of the waking ranch. Birds chirp in the distance, and you take a deep breath, your lungs filling with the fresh scent of the outdoors—
But then you’re slipping. 
And then falling. 
With a loud, sharp gasp, you find yourself unexpectedly upside down beneath Honeydust's belly. Panic sets in as you register the proximity of her powerful legs, your eyes widen, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. Honeydust remains still, your body still miraculously hanging to the saddle. 
Your heartbeat starts to slow, you take a deep breath. You’re fine. You’re okay. You just forgot to fasten one of the belts. 
“Need any help there, sweetheart?” 
Fuck. Busted. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, emphasizing the latter. Jean-clad legs come into view. “Just. . . trying a new riding style.” 
“Is that so?” Joel drawls, amusement dripping with every word. “And what would you call this one? The hangin’ fool?” 
“Rude.” 
His hips cock to the side and you see him placing both hands on his narrow hips, “Would it be better if I called it the hangin’ beauty?” 
“Yes actually, it would.” 
Your cheeks warm as he steps closer. You try not to stare, or perhaps that’s just you lying to yourself, but whatever your true intention was your eyes linger right over his crotch. Even with the thick jeans and the belt buckle, you know he’s packing underneath there. You can especially tell now since this is the closest you’ve ever been to it. Your mouth waters. Your brain delving further into sinful imagination when his low chuckle echoes in your ear. 
“A’right then beautiful, let’s get you out here.” he stops for a beat, his knuckles brushing down the outer part of your leg. You shudder, your legs tighten around Honeydust. “Unless you wanna show me this new ridin’ style of yours?” 
“You know what, I think I’ll take a rain check on that.” your voice is shrill and pitchy. Your eyes start to throb. “Especially since all the blood in my body is currently in my head.” 
“Oh shit—Okay, just gimme a sec.” he slides his hands under your armpits. “A’right now let go.” 
“What?” 
“Just let go, sweetheart. I got you. You’ll be okay, promise.” 
With a sharp breath, you close your eyes and loosen your legs. Joel's arms wrap further beneath yours, drawing you closer. You feel the tightening of his biceps, feel the huff of his breath against your cheek. He takes a step back and suddenly unbalanced, he falls backward, pulling you along.
With a huff, Joel lands on his ass, and you find yourself comfortably nestled against his chest. It takes you only a second for your gaze to find his. You hold your breath and so does he. His hand pleasantly curls around your waist, keeping you from moving away. His chest is firm under your own, your nipples tightening when you shift a bit, the graze of fabric makes you shudder. 
His other hand comes to brush a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You swallow not once but twice. The warmth of Joel’s palm cradles your cheek and a slow breath exits your lungs. 
“You a’right?” 
“Y—Yeah. . . thanks for helping me out.” 
“My pleasure.” His voice is deep, hoarse even, and it scratches your ears just right. You find yourself drawn to him. Your eyes dropping to his lips and back up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. His lips part. The divot in the middle of his bottom lip more prominent than ever. You lean in without a thought, he mimics you, coming in closer and closer. Your chest heaves. Your heart beating madly against your chest. 
“What the hell are you two doin’ canoodling here?” 
You jerk away, your eyes lingering on Joel long enough to see the disappointment in his gaze. His eyes close slowly and he takes a ragged breath. Shifting slightly you see Jack holding a hay bale. His eyes are narrowed, his brows knitted together as his gaze flits between you and Joel. You chew the inside of your cheek, embarrassment heating you from the inside out. 
“We ain’t canoodlin’,” Joel answers, agitated. “I found her hanging upside down under Honeydust’s belly. Who’s fault do you think is that?” 
Jack’s mouth opens and closes, his cheeks suddenly flushed. His gloved hands tighten around the hay as he pushes it up his arms. Then finally, with a softened gaze, he turns to you. “Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” you reply, your heart currently beating in your throat. “I just forgot to fasten the other side of the saddle.” 
Joel squeezes your waist and you’re suddenly hyper-aware that you’re basically on his lap still. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You have a shit teacher.” 
“Excuse me?” Jack’s tone is enough to have you scrambling off of Joel’s lap. If looks could kill, Joel would be dead right now. On your feet, you move towards Honeydust, and with great comfort, she nuzzles your chest. Joel smiles lazily when Jack drops the bale of hay and walks up to him. “You better take that back, old man.” 
“Yeah?” his eyes glow with mirth. “Make me.” 
Involuntarily you cover your mouth with a hand. Is it bad that you’re secretly enjoying this? The amount of testosterone in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife. 
Joel slowly gets up, as if he has all the time in the world, and faces Jack. He’s slightly taller than the latter, smile still tugging at his lips as he tilts his head ever so slightly down. Jack’s nostrils flare. 
“You want me to knock you out in front of our guest?” 
“I’d love to see you try.” 
Joel takes another step closer, his chest nearly flushed against the other, he jerks his head to the side and places his hands on his hips. You swear you see Jack’s skin darkening with a deep shade of red from his chest to his neck. His jaw is wired tight, the muscle there twitching. 
“How about this,” Joel grins. “You manage to make our sweet girl here a full-on cowgirl in two days and I’ll eat my words right outta your hand, Whiskey.” 
Jack huffs and clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me that.” 
“It’s your name isn’t it?” 
“It ain’t and you know it.” 
“Your parents shouldn’t have named you Jack Daniels,” Joel rolls his eyes, “Do we have a deal or not?” 
You hold your breath when Joel extends a hand. Jack’s eyes briefly find yours, his fingers twitching. The morning chill is still in the air and despite it, beads of sweat appear on your skin. Two days. Two days and you still don’t know how to put on a saddle right. With a small shake, you attempt to warn Jack but that only makes him smile. 
He turns to Joel, “Deal,” he answers, taking his hand. “Two days. Be ready to eat your words, old man.” 
They shake on it and as they do Joel gives you a not so subtle wink. It reminds you of just how close the two of you were a mere couple of minutes ago. You avert your gaze, suddenly shy to face him, and think about what might’ve happened if Jack hadn’t interrupted. 
When Joel leaves, Jack lets out a long sigh and turns to you. 
“You slipped, darlin’, really?” 
“In my defense, it was early.” 
“Fuckin’ hell.” He shakes his head but you see the way his lips curl upwards ever so slightly. “Anyway, wait for me here and I’ll be right back. We gotta get you into tip-top shape because I ain’t gonna lose to Joel.” 
“I warned you, you know,” you softly kick the dirt with the tip of your boot. 
Jack’s tongue moves over his bottom lip, a shudder crawls up your spine and heat pools between your legs. He grips the bale of hay and throws it over his shoulder. 
“That’s why I accepted the challenge, sugar. No guest of mine is gonna leave here without feelin’ like they can conquer the world.” 
Tumblr media
“Jack this is impossible I’m never going to get the hang of this.” 
“With that attitude you sure ain’t gonna.” 
With a crooked smile, Jack watches as you draw your shoulders together and stomp your boot against the soil. The lasso is tight between your fingers, the tips of which are chafed from turning the lasso again and again in an attempt to loop the rope around one of the wooden posts. He tilts his head to the side when you turn to him, a pleading expression etched onto your beautiful face.
"This is never going to happen," you huff. However, instead of keeping his eyes locked on yours, his gaze drops to where your flannel hugs your breasts, the poor buttons struggling to keep it all together. His cock swells at the thought of licking them, sucking on your hard nipples while the sweetest noises flee from your lips. "Jack?"
He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s been staring at your gorgeous tits, he drags his gaze back slowly, his smile only growing upon seeing your parted lips and glazed eyes. “Yeah, sugar?” 
“We’re never going to win this thing with Joel,” you say and he doesn’t fail to notice how breathless you suddenly are. “How am I supposed to learn to do everything a cowboy can in two days? Seems a bit unfair.” 
“Not everythin’,” he struts towards you and peels the lasso from your fingers. “We just need to cover the basics. No one is expectin’ you to catch a knife in mid-air with a lasso.” 
Your brows furrow, “What? You’re saying you can actually do that?” 
“‘Course I can,” he chirps back. “Unlike you, I’m a top-notch cowboy.” 
His heart breaks a little when he sees how defeated you look, with a small nudge to your shoulder, he draws your gaze back to him. “Want me to show you again darlin’?” 
“Sure but I’m not sure it’ll do me any good. I’m horrible at this.” 
With a reassuring grin, Jack steps back, unwinding the lasso he took from you. He takes a moment to adjust the coils and then demonstrates the art of lassoing, the rope flying through the air in a graceful arc before landing perfectly around a wooden post.
“You see, it's all in the wrist,” he explains as he smoothly tightens the loop, making it look deceptively easy. He repeats the motion a couple of times, each throw precise and controlled.
“You know who’s really good at this?” he asks, returning his attention to you. “Joel.”
You snort, “I feel like that man is good at everything. But I’m not sure why you’re telling me that.”
“Well, you know who used to suck at it—me.”
“You?” you raise a sole eyebrow, and a teasing smile touches your lips. “You who can catch a knife in the air, supposedly, that is.”
“It takes a lot of practice, sugar. That's what I’m tryin’ to tell ya. I sucked at it. Couldn’t even do one loop. Then the old timer helped me out.”
“Joel?”
Yup," he says, noticing your shock. He had been shocked too when the man had shown him how to properly do it. It was both amazing and terrifying. Jack had never had someone care about him enough to actually show him how it's done instead of letting him struggle on his own. "And eventually, I got the hang of it. So will you.”
You smile wholeheartedly and take the lasso from him, “Thanks, Jack. I. . . I appreciate it. You actually really respect him, don’t you? Despite all the banter and arguing.” 
“That’s just how I show love, darlin’.” 
“You never argue with me.” 
His eyebrows tilt up, along with the corner of his lips. You avert your eyes as you loosely hold the rope in your hand, the exercise quickly forgotten. Jack closes the distance until there's only a breath of space between you two. He entertains the idea of lifting your head by the chin, forcing your gaze upon him, but he refrains. He wants you to listen to him and oblige.
“Look at me, darlin’,” His eyes shine with delight when you do, he leans closer. “You want me to fight you?” 
Your brows furrow, your lips forming the most adorable pout, “No. Of course not.” 
“You sure?” This time he does cup your cheek to keep your gaze fixed on him. His pinkies move towards your neck, drawing soft patterns up and down your skin. You visibly shudder, a soft breath escaping your lips. “I see how you watch when Joel and I start to bitch and moan at each other, sugar. You sure you’re not into it even a little?” 
He knows your answer. But he allows you to giggle and escape his hold anyway. “You’re ridiculous,” you say and as a response Jack wants to touch on the fact that you can’t look at him anymore, however, he’ll allow you to escape him for now. 
“Come on then, now that you got your giggles on, let’s see you at least pull in one of those cones.” 
While you attempt to just do that, Jack ends up regretting teasing you because he ends up thinking about Joel instead. It’s hard to admit that the constant bickering is the obvious telltale sign of something more. And he knows there’s something. Joel only weaponizes his tongue when you’re around. Or someone else for that matter. But when it’s just the two of them it’s different. It’s lingering touches and heavy scotch-filled conversations. Sometimes Joel would even whisper so he wouldn’t wake the others. Jack shivers as he remembers how Joel’s lips felt against the shell of his ear. Downright sinful. 
It always remained at that, however. Touches and looks and talks. Nothing more and nothing less. 
“Jack,” you say, your voice drawing him away from thoughts he’s happy to be drawn away from. “How did you end up here? Like with Joel and the rest.” 
“It’s not much of a story. I was lookin’ for a job and came here lookin’ for one.” He lifts his hat and combs his hair back with his fingers. “I actually met Tommy first. Joel doesn’t like the hiring process and says his younger brother is a better judge of character. I met him after I was hired. Then I met the little munchkins.” 
“You mean Sarah and Ellie?” 
“Yes ma’am I do,” he reaches forward, letting his fingers nearly brush yours. He chuckles, "I also know what you're doing, so stop stalling and throw the damn lasso already."
You take your bottom lip between your teeth and all Jack wants to do is pry it away from the sharp edges, "Oh, are we arguing? Should I add this moment to my journal?” you manage to lock your gaze with his, a grin spreading across your face. “Does this mean you love me?" 
He takes a step closer, leaning ever so slightly into your personal space. A hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, he breathes, "How 'bout this? You throw that rope, and I'll kiss you, sweetheart. Then you’ll really know what I feel."
Your eyes widen, "You’ll... excuse me?"
A wicked glint in his eyes, he quips, "I'll kiss you, full-blown on the lips. And believe me, it'll be my pleasure to lay one on you."
"Just throw the rope? Aren't you selling a bit short?"
Jack takes another step towards you and you can feel the heat radiating from him. His voice low and husky, he counters, "Fine then, manage to actually lasso something, and then I'll kiss you."
"You're mean. You said you'd only do it if I threw it." You challenge him by taking a step closer and he’s delighted to see it. 
Cupping her face in his hands, he grins, "Changed my mind. And you have yourself to blame for it."
With all his heart Jack wishes for you to make the throw. Something primal and ugly in him finds extreme joy in being the one to kiss you first. He hated to admit it, but his heart broke a little when he found you and Joel together, lips almost about to touch. He hated feeling like an outsider. Especially when it came from Joel.
With a determined glint in your eyes, you take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Gripping the lasso in your hands, you start to swing it in a circular motion above your head. It’s sloppy and uneven but he can see how much care you’ve put into your stance. Jack watches intently, noting the way you shift your weight from one food to another, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
As the lasso gains momentum, you release it at just the right moment. It sails through the air, forming a perfect loop. Jack's eyes follow its trajectory, silently urging it to find its mark. The loop descends gracefully, and, with a satisfying thud, it settles around a nearby plastic cone and you pull it towards yourself, the plastic moving with ease. 
A triumphant grin breaks across your face as you complete the throw. “I did it,” you gasp in a low tone, panting. Your head suddenly snaps towards him, a shit-eating grin plastered over your perfect lips. “I DID IT!”  
Jack only smiles as he leans in and cradles your face in a rush. He crashes into you, lips meeting yours in an eager, lingering kiss. He teases the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue. Just a brief preview of how badly he wants this to happen. His hands slip to your ass, kneading the plump flesh, his cock stiffens at how you moan into his mouth. You press against him and Jack can’t help but roll his hips to feel more of you. It’s been so long. Too long since he felt something warm and tight around his cock. 
He parts away by dragging his lips down to your chin and from there to your neck. He nips at your pulse, feeling it beating against his mouth. 
“Jack,” you breathe. “I—Wow—” 
“Kissin’ is one thing I’m better at,” he chuckles deeply into your ear. “Among other things.” 
He holds you by the neck and gently pulls away. He can’t get enough of the expression you’re giving him; pupils blown and lips slightly parted. Your chest heaves heavily, your pulse beating wildly under his palm. Jack brushes your lips together, smiling upon hearing you whimper. 
“Now, throw that lasso again and I’ll give you another kiss.” 
Tumblr media
And it all comes down to horse riding. You should be surprised but you’re not. 
The sun was finally setting over the ranch. A subtle chill settling at the base of your snake as the sun went down. It had been a tiring day full of lasso throwing, ax throwing, and knotting. Your back ached and when the final challenge finally befell you all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep. The only thing that gave you an ounce of energy was Jack’s proud smile after every challenge that was won. Joel seemed genuinely impressed. And you were genuinely surprised to find yourself acing every task. Seeing how smug Jack got made your heart flutter and stomach draw tight. 
The two of you had done a lot of kissing that day. It hadn’t gone any further but deep down you really wanted it to. 
You feel a deep sense of Deja Vu when you find yourself staring at Honeydust with a saddle in hand. You take a deep breath, fingers tightening around the leather. The open air gives you a sense of calm, the cloudy sky a pleasure to gaze upon.
Jack touches the small of your back, goosebumps rising across your skin at the gentle touch, “You got this darlin’ don’t worry so much.” 
You briefly glance at the track Joel and Jack had set up for you. Wooden fences stand tall at various intervals, creating a series of jumps that make you sweat just by thinking about them. Your eyes linger on the strategically placed cones that form a zigzag pattern. 
“Honestly no matter what happens I’m impressed,” Joel cuts in, cupping Honeydust’s cheek. Your gaze moves deftly from the track to the man standing before you. As always, he looks amazing in his red and yellow flannel. “You’ve done well sweetheart.” 
“Maybe you should just forfeit and accept we won then,” you answer, smiling. Joel shakes his head. 
“Someone is sure of herself.” 
“Hell yeah, I am.” 
“Look at that,” Jack pipes. “Soundin’ like a true cowboy already.” 
You expertly secure the saddle onto Honeydust's back. The leather feels cool beneath your fingertips as you tighten the straps, ensuring a snug fit. Adjusting the stirrups, you make sure they're the perfect length for your legs. As you stand beside the horse, you can feel the intensity of Joel and Jack's gazes on you. Their eyes trace the curves of your movements, a subtle tension lingering in the air.
With everything in place, you take a deliberate breath and swing yourself onto the saddle. The leather creaks slightly under your weight as you settle into position. Honeydust shifts beneath you. You catch Joel's gaze, and a sly smirk plays on his lips. His eyes linger a moment longer than necessary, you let out a puff of air, your legs tighten around Honeydust..
"Remember, just go with the flow. You and Honeydust are a team," Jack advises and with that, you head off. 
Gently nudging your heels against the horse's side, you urge Honeydust into a graceful gallop around the track. The steadying thud of her hooves pounding against the dirt creates a harmony that molds with the song of the wind, transporting you to a place of serenity. Each hurdle makes your heart jump with excitement. The jumps seem impossible at times. As you zigzag through the cones, you can feel Honeydust's muscles tense and relax under your hands, transitioning from one step to the next with the gracefulness of a dance—
A sudden jolt disrupts the rhythm, and you find yourself tumbling to the ground. You let out a deep groan as your back hits the earth and with the corner of your eye, you see Joel taking hold of Honeydust’s reins, calming the poor palomino. Jack’s face comes into vision a second later. 
"You okay, darlin'?" When you nod and begin to get up, his worry turns to frustration as he glances at Joel. "This was supposed to be about teaching, not pushing her to the damn limit."
"I didn't mean for her to fall, Jack. So don’t act like that was my intention."
“No, your intention was to make me look like I don’t know what I’m doin’.” 
Jack, eyes still glued on Joel, helps you up. Your head is still spinning a little from the adrenaline rush but other than that you feel fine. Your eyes flitting between both men, your stomach twists and turns at how they’re both glaring at each other. This time is different from the arguments. This time they both genuinely look like they’re about to explode. Joel has his jaw tight while Jack has both hands in tight fists. “Guys. . .” 
"Why you gotta make everythin’ personal?" Joel snaps, ignoring you all together. “It was just meant to be a harmless bet.” 
Jack's eyes narrow, he tears his hand away from yours and your heart drops, "You're the one who makes it damn personal by goadin’ me all the damn time."
“That’s. . .” Joel’s eyes grow soft, his demeanor changing entirely. You watch the furrow between his brows relax, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “I’m—” 
“Can it,” Jack hisses through gritted teeth and raises a hand. “I don’t want your apology, I just wanna go. Unless you think I’m gonna be bad at that too.” 
You reach out, head still spinning, your fingers graze the back of his jacket and he slips from between your grasp. You part your lips to call out to him. To tell him to come back. But Joel takes a hold of your hand and lowers it with the shake of his head. 
“I know where he’s goin’. Let’s go.” 
“Are you telling me he has a brooding spot?” 
“He does.”
Tumblr media
The sun had set. The crickets now singing under the starry night, but Joel can't focus on any of it. He can’t because he might’ve actually screwed everything up for good this time— which would be typical of him.  
After months of contemplating whether he should take the next step or not, he’d finally made Jack snap. That had never been Joel’s intention, obviously. But he wasn’t the best at flirting. Never had been. And when Jack came into his life, all fresh faced and a lashing tongue, he couldn’t help but fall for him a little. 
You’re walking just a little bit behind him, trying to keep up. He can feel you staring at him. Your eyes curious like a newborn gazelle’s. 
“If you stare any harder I’m gonna start blushin’ sweetheart.” 
“I’m. . . I wasn’t. . .” 
“Sure you were,” he sighs. “It wasn’t my intention to be hard on him you know. It just. . . sorta happens. I care a lot about him and I just want him to. . . “ He clamps his mouth shut. What was he supposed to say? How he was hoping that all the teasing would finally push Jack into his arms? How he wanted to do more than touch Jack when he knew no one else could see. 
“You want him to. . .  what exactly?” 
“I don’t know,” he says through gritted teeth. “It’s complicated between us.” 
“You both have a crush on each other and don’t know what to do about it. It’s not that complicated.”
Joel’s mouth opens and closes— then opens again. “And how the hell do you know that?” 
“Because he talks about you a lot,” you answer with a soft smile. “He said he cares about you. And about your opinion.” Joel’s eyes narrow as you rub the back of your head, your eyes dropping to where you would be taking your next step. “I just don't know where I fit in all of this.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“You and I almost kissed,” you say finger moving between you two. “Jack and I actually kissed. And well. . . I don’t want to get in the middle of anything. It might be a bit sudden but I like you guys, I care about you, and want you guys to be together if that’s what you want.” 
“It’s not your job to worry about us.” Joel huffs, his guilt gnawing at him. “But I get what you mean. We. . . we didn’t intend to put you in that position. I can assure you this wasn’t some twisted game we were tryin' to play. I can't talk for Jack but I care about you. And I care about him if that makes sense. But I fear that me being emotionally constipated might’ve ruined it with him. He gets mad every time I open my mouth.” 
“That’s because you tease him all the time and honestly he’s not doing any better than you.” Joel’s eyes go wide when you suddenly cradle his cheeks and bring his face towards your own. “And you haven't ruined anything Mr. Miller. You just need to tell him exactly what you’ve been telling me.” 
“You think so?” 
“I know so.” 
Before he can reach he feels the soft touch of your lips. You kiss him slowly—tenderly. Joel follows your lead, parting his lips, he allows you to slip your tongue inside. He sucks on your tongue, enjoying the way your body presses against his. 
When you pull back, you’re completely dazed.
“Now what was that for?” he asks.
“To keep everything even” you answer, smiling. “Now let's go get our brooding cowboy.” 
It doesn’t take long for that to happen. They find Jack sitting on the ground, his back pressed snugly against the wooden fence. He’s staring at the stars. The gentle light streaming down his face and down his neck, Joel’s heart skips a beat at the sight and he feels as though he can’t breathe. 
Only when they walk closer does he notice the bottle of whiskey. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig, Joel’s eyes follow the way drops of amber trickle down his sun-kissed skin. 
All Joel wants to do is lick the bitter drop off of him. 
The two stop before him. Neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. Joel attempts to apologize by parting his lips and that is the exact moment where Jack finally meets his gaze. 
“I know,” he says curtly. “Sit.” Jack extends the bottle of whiskey. Joel, without a word, sits down and takes the bottle. Just as he’s taking a swig, he notices you’re about to leave.  Thankfully Jack stops that from coming to fruition. “And where do you think you’re goin’? Sit your ass over here.” 
Joel almost cackles at how shocked you look. With the tiniest yelp escaping your lips you sit down right next to Jack. Taking a mouthful of whiskey, Joel extends you the bottle. You take it and chug it down immediately—Jack snorts and finally Joel feels comfortable enough to laugh alongside him. 
“Calm down darlin’, it ain’t runnin’ away.” 
“Sorry,” you hiccup, shoving the bottle into Jack’s chest. “I’m nervous.” 
“Well, don’t be,” Jack sighs and his head falls back against the fence. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I—” 
“We know,” Joel says with a fond smile. He throws his arm over Jack’s shoulder and cups the back of his head, his hat tumbling to the ground—it was now or never. 
For the first time, Joel brings their faces together without the tease of what he might or might not do. He kisses Jack tenderly, softly. Just like how he wanted to treat him during all those nights they were alone together. Jack digs his fingers into Joel’s shirt, nails nearly biting into the skin. Much to Joel’s surprise, the other man tastes sweet. Their tongues move together, still unsure but eager to explore. 
When Joel opens his eyes ever so slightly, he sees you staring in awe. 
He nearly breaks away laughing. But also, he can’t really blame you for your expression. 
It really does feel magical. 
Tumblr media
You hold your breath. Every nerve ending you have is buzzing with want and arousal. The space between your legs pulsing as you watch Joel tilting his head, slipping his tongue through Jack’s eager lips. Deep down you feel like you’re intruding. That this is a tender moment that should just be between the two men but you can’t help but stay there, like a deer in headlights, watching.  
You shudder at the sound of Jack moaning, his hands grip Joel’s shoulder and host himself up the older man’s lap. He grinds down, swallowing Joel’s gasps, he parts away, a trail of saliva connecting the two. You’re still holding your breath. The tips of your fingers numb, your brain a whirlwind as it registers the sight before you. 
“Stupid old man,” Jack rasps, tilting his head to the side. “Gettin’ all sappy.” Then his heavy gaze finds your struck ones. He reaches out and in a dream-like state you take his hand, his fingers hastily close around your wrist and tugs you towards him. Your gasp is caught in your throat when he kisses you. The taste of Joel and whiskey still heavy on his tongue. 
A hand that doesn’t belong to Jack trails up the curve of your ass and squeezes. A choked-out moan drops from your lips only for Jack to shove his tongue between them. He sucks on your tongue and nips at your bottom lip all the while rolling his hips over Joel’s lap. 
“God, look at you two,” Joel groans, giving your ass another firm squeeze before moving his attention to Jack’s spread thighs. “I want to watch you eat that pretty pussy up, Jack. Bet you want that too. . .” 
Joel palms Jack’s cock through the denim, stroking him with a smug smile. Jack parts away from your lips with a whimper. His chest heaves. “Yeah,” he gasps, staring into your eyes, and his hips jerk, chasing the heat of the other’s palm. “Want you to make a mess of me, sugar.”
“Please,” you answer albeit not really needed. Your body falls back to sit on your heels, Joel crashes his lips against the younger cowboy’s, drinking the noises in like a starved man. He rips his flannel open while straightening himself, the momentum of the movement forcing Jack to grip Joel’s shoulders. He slides off of Joel’s lap, the kiss breaking when he directs his full lust-addled attention to you. 
His gaze is enough for you to start struggling with the buttons of your jeans. You kick them off in a rush and before you can take off your shirt Jack is already laying you down upon the soil, the stars above blinking down at you with mischief. Joel sitting close, pulls your head so you’re nestled comfortably above his lap. His hands cradle your face, thumbs stroking your skin gently. It’s a complete contrast compared to how Jack is. He slides your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb resting right above your clit, he stares at your from between your spread-out thighs. 
“Fuckin’ delicious,” he mutters right before delving in. He drags his tongue slowly up your folds while tenderly stroking your clit. Your back arches off of the earth, your eyes fluttering closed as he goes back down, only to kiss you tenderly. He takes his time with you. His jaw moving and tongue teasing your fluttering entrance. Your breath catches in your throat, your chest rattling, Joel shushes you while praising Jack at the same time. 
When your eyes finally open, you find Joel looking down at you. His thumb traces the underline of your bottom lip and moves down until he reaches the hem of your flannel. Flattening his thumb over your stomach, he pushes the fabric up until he exposes you to the sky completely. He cups both your breasts and smooths his fingers over your tingling nipples. 
“So hard already. . . you must really like what he’s doin’ down there huh?” 
Tears stinging the corner of your eyes, you nod. Your silent reply is answered with a sharp bite to the inside of your thigh. Your body jolts, a gasp of pain rattling your throat. Joel smiles. “I think he wants to hear you, sweetheart.”
“I love it,” you moan and as a reward, he pinches your nipples. 
“Good girl.” 
Jack presses his tongue deeper, your body clenching at both the words and the movement. He groans into your cunt, the bridge of his nose brushing your aching clit deliciously as he swirls his tongue. Your stomach coils tight and you push more of yourself into Joel’s palms, your mouth drops wide. You want more. You need more. You want them both to take and take and take—take until you forget your own damn name. 
“Joel. . .” you breathe. He looks down at you curiously. “I want to suck your cock.” 
Jack stops only for a moment before his eyes flutter closed and loses himself in you. Vaguely you can see the way he grinds down, a groan reverberating between your legs. Joel sucks in a breath and exhales from his nose. “You sure?” 
Your answer is ready on your tongue, and as soon as you give it to him, he expertly unbuttons himself. The tip of his cock pushes against your lips and your breath hitches. Precome smears over the soft flesh, your tongue darting out for a taste, you end up tasting from the source instead. Joel’s hips stutter. 
“Holy fuckin’ hell,” his hips jerk a second time, this time thrusting himself deeper into your mouth. You feel him leaning over, a second later you understand he’s reaching for the other man who is working you toward your orgasm. “Jack com’ere—Let me taste her.” 
Jack doesn’t make Joel repeat himself and unwillingly pulls himself away from between your legs. Your tongue swirls around Joel’s cock as Jack kisses him deeply. He licks himself deep into the older man’s mouth, stealing a moan deep within Joel’s chest. While Jack steals the breath from Joel’s lungs, he pushes two fingers into you with ease. Your eyes rolling, you take more of Joel into your mouth, prompting the other to instinctively thrust deep enough to make you choke around him. 
He parts from Jack with a gasp, “Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart, choke on it.” he says through gritted teeth. Both men look down at you with dark eyes, the shadows caused by the moonlight caress their backs, deepening every crease of their faces. You shudder. 
You’re surprised to see Jack dipping down, lower from where you’re sucking Joel’s cock, he sucks the tender skin of the base, and the sound that Joel makes almost feels inhumane. 
But Jack doesn’t linger. He pulls away from both of you, his torso tall between your legs, he strokes himself at the sight of your mouth full of the man he admires. 
“You like having your mouth full, darlin’? Such a dirty girl allowing two men to have you like this out in the open.” 
You whimper and nod, eyes flooding with tears as Joel shoves himself deeper. Spit and precome trickle down from where his cock stretches your lips. 
“Fuckin’ filthy,” Jack says giving himself a firm squeeze before swiping his palm over the head of his cock. With his other hand, he follows the contour of your leg, reaches all the way to your hip. “You’re ‘bout to feel much fuller.” 
He shoves himself inside you with a single thrust; your channel tightens around him, a moan escaping your throat. Your mouth is pulled away from Joel briefly, gasping for air, before he pulls you back. He adjusts his hips and slides back into your mouth, kneading the back of your neck.
“You feel that? How hot and wet you are? Both of us stretching you?” Jack's voice is gruff as he thrusts into you; your eyes close as pleasure radiates through your body, your skin left tingling. You can hear Joel moan and pant in the background, his cock throbs above your tongue and you hollow out your cheeks.
Your eyes flutter as Jack's cock glides in and out of you; his plunges getting deeper with every thrust. You feel overwhelmed by both of them. You’re left breathless and spinning. You feel only them and nothing else. 
You grip onto Joel to keep yourself teetered to the moment as Jack's movements become more desperate, Joel matching him thrust for thrust. With each gasp, Joel's cock slides further down your throat. 
The tightness inside your body grows; waves of pleasure cascade through you. The pressure builds and builds and builds—You’re so close you can taste it. Jack presses a palm over your mound, adding pressure as he draws quick and tight circles around your clit. Your throat convulses around Joel’s cock and he pulls out, his length resting comfortably above your lips. You breathe heavily against him, his cock slick and warm on your skin. 
“Atta girl,” he coos. “Just a bit more. . . Show us how pretty you look when you come.” 
You feel the pressure between your legs mounting with each hard thrust from Jack, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. Joel encourages Jack to go faster, and with each plunge you feel the tension in your core build higher and higher. 
And finally the coil snaps. 
Your whole body trembles and shakes. Your orgasm still rolling over your body like a violent wave. Jack pumps his hips into yours as he digs his hands into your hips. He keeps thrusting relentlessly, pushing himself as far in as he can before he pulls out. His jaw goes slack, cock gliding over your mound, he spills over your skin. You shudder at the trickle of his seed. 
Joel’s cock slides across your lips, teasing you. Your tongue darts out and quickly wraps around him, you tilt your head to take in all of his length. You push your mouth onto him, bobbing your head up and down until he groans. His hips buck erratically and at the same time you feel the touch of Jack’s mouth against the side of your neck. 
You swallow everything that he offers you, savoring every moment of the taste of him. You stay close to him until his breathing returns to normal, his thighs shaking underneath you as he pulls out. 
“Holy shit,” Jack chokes out as he collapses on top of you, head right above your chest. Joel wipes the sole tear that had escaped you eye and smiles. You bring his palm to your lips and kiss the rough skin. 
“It’s going to be hard walking away from all of this,” you whisper, shuddering when Jack’s mouth moves against the side of your breasts. 
“Who says you have to walk away?” 
You don’t have it in you to go into the details of your life and how you have to go. Or entertain the idea that maybe the things that you thought were important aren’t as essential that you thought after all. It’s pure chaos and right now all you want is to feel their warmth against your bare skin under the stars. 
For now, you are content and feeling grateful for the two amazing men who coincidentally made themselves an inseparable part of your life.  
689 notes · View notes
fishnapple · 29 days
Text
CRYSTAL READING: What would bring you good luck? 🌻🌟✨️
A little explanation of the method I used for reading
Lithomancy : I assigned a meaning for each stone (each stone represents a planet) and cast them on a circle divided into 12 parts, just like an astrology chart and do the reading
Pick a stone :
Tumblr media
Reading for each group below :
1. Trolleite group
Tumblr media
There is a contrast of two sides.
blue vs. red
personal vs collective
A hidden fire underneath a calm blue surface.
Wearing or using white and blue objects during travelling, especially long journey, dealing with a large crowd or going to public institutions, religious or spiritual places, the banks etc. would help you navigate the surrounding environment more smoothly.
It could be the colour of the clothes, vehicles, bottle, backpack etc.
Bringing a book and a notebook with you while travelling is also very beneficial.
Going near a large body of water, the ocean, the seashore, fish, and shells will help calm and ground you.
But for your private home, planting lots of flowers, paint the wall in warm pale tones of pink or pale orange, yellow will bring wamrth and vitality.
For harmonious communication, you could use a pink phone or a pink phone case, a pink notebook and pen, and pink accessories.
As I have said above about a hidden fire, intimate connections would stoke a creative fire within you, bring in more inspiration and life force to your projects.
Show a more vulnerable and soft side of yourself to the world and see how that would lead you on an unexpected, lucky journey.
2. Citrine group
Tumblr media
There is a sense of an overall blessing draping your life. It's soft and jubilant.
You should surround yourself with soft, pastel colours and oceanic motifs.
Having a kaleidoscope and occasionally looking through it can unwind some restrictive thought patterns.
Travelling will bring lots of luck and valuable lessons. Schools and learning are also very important steps.
The more you study broadly but also deeply, the more depth and value you will find in life and in yourself. There is a calling from the depth of the ocean. To go deep, your life is not meant to be spent in a light, breezy, superficial way.
Have an exercise routine, not necessarily something vigorous, but just move your body around, writing or practising something with your hands daily will also assist you in this journey.
A teacher with masculine energy would also help you transform your fundamental way of thinking, building a more solid and vibrant inner core.
I also see that keeping yourself warm and monitoring what you eat closely would bring positive changes to you.
Bright red, orange, soft purple and blue, black would be your lucky colours.
3. Garnet group
Tumblr media
Some period of wandering by yourself, away from familiar faces and environment, would do wonders to you. Especially when you feel quite lost, confused, or aimless.
Allow yourself to be guided by your intuition.When the urge strikes, just pack your things and go without too many thoughts and concerns.
It would be like a spiritual cleanse.
Things that relate to cleansing would also help you. Soap, salt, something smells of lavenders, lemon, rose, and water.
After some long walks or runs, taking a shower with soap or shampoo of these scent.
Take good care of your hair. Our hair is one of the most visible signs of life growing, of progression. I would usually imagine it as inverted roots of the tree that is our body.
A healthy root system would make a healthy tree.
I'm also see that some objects with cradle-like shapes are quite beneficial for your financial and physical growth. A bowl, a basket, a candy dish, something that can hold others.
The colours to bring you luck are jade green, sky blue, lilac, and dark red.
4. Rose quartz
Tumblr media
When I saw your spread, I immediately heard the sound of wind chimes. More specifically, a brass wind chimes, the one with no frills, just simple tubes of brass swaying gently in a place with lots of dark trees. The place feels simple, quiet, serious, and solitary.
Hanging some objects like wind chimes, dream catchers, or something light, delicate by the door or windows. Or wearing earrings with that kind of shape would bring good luck to you.
Even more so if it was made by your own hands. I even saw some kind of transparent panel make of glass or acrylic with painting on it, dangling in front of the window, sunlight striking through, making rainbow dance in the room.
Light and sound would affect your energy profoundly.
When things feel unstable, difficulties arise, you could go to places that are old, with lots of history, have big, strong, square structure, or anywhere that has 4 walls surrounding you to feel more grounded.
Number 2,3,4 would show signs of blessing.
Things or beings that come in pair, in groups of three or groups of four.
Consider using things with contrast, a combination of complementary colours ,
dark and rich colours combine with light, soft colours such as green and pink, light blue and brown black, lilac with dark red, orange with cold grey.
5. Carnelian group
Tumblr media
For this group, it's not really about something physical like a place, an object that could bring you good luck. It's more about words, thoughts, and emotions.
When dealing with others, sometimes not revealing yourself entirely would actually achieve more peace and honesty in that relationship.
You have an intense inner world, you see clearly the hurts, the vulnerability, and the darkness in yourself and others. Your words would have a heavy , serious trigger. It's not easy to always bring that heaviness out into the open because it would create misunderstanding and anger in others.
So, not showing yourself too much, wait and observe, until you and the other person reach a certain understanding of each other.
An outward elusiveness and detachment sometimes would help balance out the inward gravity.
Having a psyche like that would manifest as sensitivity in the physical body such as allergies, so avoid eating too much spicy and hot food or strenuous activities so as not to aggrevate the body further.
A healthy bridge between bodily nourishment and the psyche should be established. Observe how some food would affect you.
The biggest message is to take good care of your health. No amount of blessings is enough if you are not actually healthy to receive them.
For colours, dark earthy and creamy tones would make a nice comfory blanket for you.
❤️
234 notes · View notes
torchwood-99 · 7 months
Text
"her part seemed to her more ignoble than that of the staff he leaned on"
I love you Gandalf. He just gets it.
The sexism that blighted Eowyn's life, that came from the hands not from enemies but loved ones, reduced her and cut her down to fit her into a box, until Eowyn didn't even feel like a person anymore. And Eomer, when it's spelled out to him, goes back and looks at their life together differently, and realises the wrong that's been done to her.
She was a tool, something to be leant on and used, to provide support for the men's desires and the men's ambitions and the men's glory, with no will of her own.
Her family loved her, but they saw her as what they would have her be, viewing her through the lens of what they believe women to be instead of seeing Eowyn (and women as a whole) for herself, instead of recognising her as her own being with own merit and skills.
It's that thing of sexism not only making women less equal, but less human.
They are a tool, a service. They are a monolith, a group assigned to perform certain roles, valued for performing those roles (to an extent) but not actually individuals, with individuals thoughts and hopes and skills and dreams. Not to the same extent as men.
And because these are the roles they're meant to serve, there's no injustice, no tragedy of lost potential and missed opportunities, because as women they don't have that potential and they don't need those opportunities.
It's no wonder Eowyn wanted to die in battle. Going to battle, riding out against the orders of all those who caged her in, that was her regaining control of her life, a life that seemed to be no life, because she was no real living person. Just a staff to be leant on. And in going to battle, when she has been told not to, in making a choice for herself, she reclaims her humanity. But she's been so broken down that she thinks the only way to avoid going back to being an object is to die in battle.
Faramir doesn't treat her like an object. He treats her like a person, one similar to him. He sees her worth and merit and he admires her strength and her deeds while also feeling compassion for her suffering. After Faramir meets her, he seeks out Merry, to try and find out about her, instead of making presumptions about her based on her sex.
Faramir bothers, he takes the effort to find out who Eowyn is, instead of deciding for her.
And Merry, who rode to war with her and also sees her who she is, helps. No wonder he and Eowyn, though parted by distance, remain great friends and Eowyn adores him.
But Eowyn doesn't just get a happy ending from having a man in her life who treats her decently.
Tolkien makes a point to have Eowyn not just declare herself as choosing to live to be Faramir's wife, it's not a case of unhappy feminist who wants to be like a boy but is finally happy when she "accepts femininity" and finds a good man to protect her.
She says she will be a healer. Faramir has spoken nothing of that. It's not a role he has chosen for her or he's taking on and she's going to do to help him. They will be married and support each other and share a life, but she will also be her own seperate person.
It's a role that she's chosen for herself, without orders or pressure from anybody else. A role that will put her strength and her wits and her stomach iron to good use, and means she won't have to wait until battle to feel alive. A role that is seen as a mark of leadership, for the greatest leaders in Middle Earth, men and women, are also healers.
This such an important arc, and it really is incredible of Tolkien to write it.
A woman who has had her own goals and skills overlooked in favour of how she can serve men, who has been kept locked in the home to tend to her family's needs with no relief or chance to go out and live life on her terms.
Who is beloved by her family, who are good people, yet still mistreated because sexism is just part and parcel of her world and even well meaning people take part in it.
A woman whose humanity has been diminished at the hands of her loved ones because of sexism and gender roles.
A woman who proves the naysayers wrong by riding out to battle, bringing along Merry who has also been left behind, and proving herself pivotal to the victory.
A woman who only finds hope for the future when she is ceased to be treated as a useful object, when she forges bonds with Merry and Faramir who don't see her as a staff for the men to walk on, nor a faulty one who keeps trying to run off on its own and needs to be brought back, but as an individual with her own hopes and failings and dreams and skills, not defined by what the patriarchy says a woman's role is.
A when she does find hope for life again, she does so not only in finding love and friendship and camaraderie, but in a vocation that will be her own, in a career that will give her own her role in the world, a role that is associated with leadership, and leadership in her own right, not as an adjunct of her husband's.
And this is how she gets her happy ending. From love (Faramir), friendship (Merry), understanding (Eomer, looking at Eowyn anew in the House of Healing) and through independence (becoming a Healer). This is how she gets a happy ending, because this is how she reclaims her personhood.
502 notes · View notes
rebeccathenaturalist · 7 months
Text
Existence Value: Why All of Nature is Important Whether We Can Use it or Not
I spend a lot of time around other nature nerds. We’re a bunch of people from varying backgrounds, places, and generations who all find a deep well of inspiration within the natural world. We’re the sort of people who will happily spend all day outside enjoying seeing wildlife and their habitats without any sort of secondary goal like fishing, foraging, etc. (though some of us engage in those activities, too.) We don’t just fall in love with the places we’ve been, either, but wild locales that we’ve only ever seen in pictures, or heard of from others. We are curators of existence value.
Existence value is exactly what it sounds like–something is considered important and worthwhile simply because it is. It’s at odds with how a lot of folks here in the United States view our “natural resources.” It’s also telling that that is the term most often used to refer collectively to anything that is not a human being, something we have created, or a species we have domesticated, and I have run into many people in my lifetime for whom the only value nature has is what money can be extracted from it. Timber, minerals, water, meat (wild and domestic), mushrooms, and more–for some, these are the sole reasons nature exists, especially if they can be sold for profit. When questioning how deeply imbalanced and harmful our extractive processes have become, I’ve often been told “Well, that’s just the way it is,” as if we shall be forever frozen in the mid-20th century with no opportunity to reimagine industry, technology, or uses thereof.
Tumblr media
Moreover, we often assign positive or negative value to a being or place based on whether it directly benefits us or not. Look at how many people want to see deer and elk numbers skyrocket so that they have more to hunt, while advocating for going back to the days when people shot every gray wolf they came across. Barry Holstun Lopez’ classic Of Wolves and Men is just one of several in-depth looks at how deeply ingrained that hatred of the “big bad wolf” is in western mindsets, simply because wolves inconveniently prey on livestock and compete with us for dwindling areas of wild land and the wild game that sustained both species’ ancestors for many millennia. “Good” species are those that give us things; “bad” species are those that refuse to be so complacent.
Even the modern conservation movement often has to appeal to people’s selfishness in order to get us to care about nature. Look at how often we have to argue that a species of rare plant is worth saving because it might have a compound in it we could use for medicine. Think about how we’ve had to explain that we need biodiverse ecosystems, healthy soil, and clean water and air because of the ecosystem services they provide us. We measure the value of trees in dollars based on how they can mitigate air pollution and anthropogenic climate change. It’s frankly depressing how many people won’t understand a problem until we put things in terms of their own self-interest and make it personal. (I see that less as an individual failing, and more our society’s failure to teach empathy and emotional skills in general, but that’s a post for another time.)
Existence value flies in the face of all of those presumptions. It says that a wild animal, or a fungus, or a landscape, is worth preserving simply because it is there, and that is good enough. It argues that the white-tailed deer and the gray wolf are equally valuable regardless of what we think of them or get from them, in part because both are keystone species that have massive positive impacts on the ecosystems they are a part of, and their loss is ecologically devastating.
Tumblr media
But even those species whose ecological impact isn’t quite so wide-ranging are still considered to have existence value. And we don’t have to have personally interacted with a place or its natural inhabitants in order to understand their existence value, either. I may never get to visit the Maasai Mara in Kenya, but I wish to see it as protected and cared for as places I visit regularly, like Willapa National Wildlife Refuge. And there are countless other places, whose names I may never know and which may be no larger than a fraction of an acre, that are important in their own right.
I would like more people (in western societies in particular) to be considering this concept of existence value. What happens when we detangle non-human nature from the automatic value judgements we place on it according to our own biases? When we question why we hold certain values, where those values came from, and the motivations of those who handed them to us in the first place, it makes it easier to see the complicated messes beneath the simple, shiny veneer of “Well, that’s just the way it is.”
And then we get to that most dangerous of realizations: it doesn’t have to be this way. It can be different, and better, taking the best of what we’ve accomplished over the years and creating better solutions for the worst of what we’ve done. In the words of Rebecca Buck–aka Tank Girl–“We can be wonderful. We can be magnificent. We can turn this shit around.”
Let’s be clear: rethinking is just the first step. We can’t just uproot ourselves from our current, deeply entrenched technological, social, and environmental situation and instantly create a new way of doing things. Societal change takes time; it takes generations. This is how we got into that situation, and it’s how we’re going to climb out of it and hopefully into something better. Sometimes the best we can do is celebrate small, incremental victories–but that’s better than nothing at all.
Tumblr media
Nor can we just ignore the immensely disproportionate impact that has been made on indigenous and other disadvantaged communities by our society (even in some cases where we’ve actually been trying to fix the problems we’ve created.) It does no good to accept nature’s inherent value on its own terms if we do not also extend that acceptance throughout our own society, and to our entire species as a whole.
But I think ruminating on this concept of existence value is a good first step toward breaking ourselves out first and foremost. And then we go from there.
Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!
556 notes · View notes
doberbutts · 2 years
Text
Back before Rowling outed herself as a great big TERF and HP became a taboo subject I literally had a [former] friend berate me for several days and then deliberately pick fights about it weeks and months later because I'd let slip that my favorite HP character was Snape. Not because I thought he was innocent or because I wouldn't acknowledge the bad things he's done, but because I like tortured souls and morally gray characters and bad victims and angsty sad boys with tragic pasts. And also Alan Rickman's a snack.
At some point they told me that they just couldn't see themselves being friends with someone who saw any value in the character whatsoever, and I probably should have known our friendship would take the wild downward spiral it did in the years following.
This repeated itself several times with various other media we had in common. Tony Stark. Joker. Every chance they got, they would demand I justify why I favored those characters and not the ones they preferred. Even when we agreed on characters from a specific series, they'd still pick a fight if I said literally anything remotely positive about a different character. Saying I understood where Anders was coming from, even though my choice like theirs was Fenris and I disagreed overall with Anders' methods and extreme behavior, resulted in them not speaking to me for several days and then picking fights every time I turned on my console to play.
Even mentioning my love for Tolkien turned into a fight because they felt the books were unsaveable and unsalvageable because of their lack of POC and LGBT characters (which is a critique I AGREE with) and became a "read better books" discussion.
At some point I had to be like "hey it actually kinda sucks to try to talk to you about anything I like because you're constantly negging on it, can you stop?" and even that turned into an argument because the takeaway was that I was supposed to change the things I like to be morally in line with *their values* rather than be annoyed that they were constantly needling me about how the things I enjoy make me somehow a bad person.
And that I think is why I am entirely done with this stupid fandom bullshit of people trying to assign moral value and purity politics to people enjoying characters or various pieces of media. I know the phrase "let people enjoy things" has been poisoned but also, fucking seriously, let people have their favorites without being forced to justify at every turn why they like something.
4K notes · View notes
nymphaliia · 23 days
Text
𐙚 TOKYO REVENGERS SMUT
Tumblr media
୨୧ sanzu x police officer!reader
— you need to arrest sanzu, but you're alone and he thinks you'd be so much prettier beneath him, so he takes it upon himself to remind you of your place.
cw : noncon, gun play (not really), threats, public sex, blowjob, cum swallow, humiliation, slight spitting
my masterlist : ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Tumblr media
your job was tough. you knew that when you signed up so you didn't have any right to complain. but there were nights like this which were radically harder than others.
you were patrolling on your assigned neighborhood on your own. it wouldn't be effective to have you there without any help, but your police station was running short of workforce so it left you with no choice.
and you regretted deeply to have come here tonight when your boss had suggested you join another group in a less secluded area. but, you wanted to assure the safety of the inhabitants, as you've been warned repeatedly of the growing activity of various gangs here.
regardless, when you think about it, it was careless and stupid of you to think you could've managed any issues alone if one had to happen.
this overconfident thought process of yours is what led you to your current situation, a gun pointed at your head. your gun.
"what's wrong, weren't you about to arrest me?", you tried to think cleverly, hands raised in a surrender motion in hopes he wouldn't shoot just for fun.
"listen, I'm only doing my job. you need to surrender yourself to the police, my colleagues have been notified, they'll be there soon. it's in your interest to stop protesting" the man seemed insanely high, pupils dilated all the way and an eccentric speech you often found with drug addicts.
you had to gain time and act extra careful with him. the way he handled your gun showed you he wasn't a novice and knew what he was doing. shooting you would have been the least exciting highlight of his day.
"you talk a lot for a little bitch like you. your mouth doesn't need all those big words" you watched as he glared at you, getting annoyed at your 'bratty' act and thinking of a way to entertain himself.
"you're quite reckless even though I'm holding you at gunpoint" he stated lazily. you eyed him carefully, choosing not to say anything for fear of upsetting him further.
"do you value your life ? because I'm thinking of a few ways you could try and save your life" he laughed lightly, a playful expression finally making his way to his face.
you gulped as you watched him start to caress his member through his pants and you noticed with dread that the man was hard. a little wet spot had appeared and you could only pray he wouldn't make you do what you thought he would.
but of course, he was the one in charge. you had been dumb enough to let this drug addict stole it from you and now you were paying the price. you judged your options, not knowing what he would do to you and how far he was able to take it. you prepared yourself for any demand.
"get on your knees and show me how much you want to live. or would you like to test how long it'll take for your other friends to get there?", he agitated the gun in front of your head, clearly indicating what was about to become of you if you tried to play it smart.
you could resist, but he seemed way too determined at making you obey. you knew he'd force you physically if you didn't follow his words.
you shuddered at the thought of your coworkers stumbling upon you, watching with disgust and horror their sweetest colleague in such a shameful position.
so you went along, swallowing your pride and slowly sinking to your knees. you felt humiliated and wronged, knowing you'll get no mercy from the man in front of you. you were either gonna suck him off or die on the spot. your choice was done.
you grew more anxious as you watched him unzip his pants, taking his hard dick out and presenting it to you. the tip fell on your lips and you had a recoil, lucidity preventing you from remaining emotionless.
"come on princess, work for your life", he was mocking you and you had no choice but to stay silent, slowly parting your lips when he forced his dick inside.
watching you glaring up at him with a face cutely deformed by his length made him laugh at you, condescending eyes looking down at you.
"aah yes, you're definitely prettier when you shut the fuck up. acting all big and mighty just doesn't suit an airhead like you baby"
you wanted to cuss him out, regretting how stupid you had been for complying to his words in exchange for your life. at least you would've died properly during your shift like any proper cop.
but here you were, on your knees for the criminal you were supposed to arrest. you were such a failure, if your police station learned about that, you could bet your life was over for real this time.
"you better hurry up and make me cum, wouldn't want them to find out their colleague is just a dumb slut who opens her mouth wide for any criminal to cum into, right?" he presses the gun deeper into your forehead, eyes questioning if you have any fighting spirit left in you with a raised brow. he smirks when he finally feels you start to move, your movements are clumsy but it draws a few loud moans from him, obviously not caring at all about the possible passers-by.
"fuck, getting your dick sucked by a cute little cop is the best. you're doing great baby, taking it like a champ'", he mocks, tangling his hand in your head and watching you gag as he pushes you deeper and deeper on his cock. your choke are stimulating him and he finds no sympathy in himself to give you a moment to breathe.
you turn light-headed, slapping his thighs in an attempt to ask him for oxygen and he just laughs.
"poor princess, do you need someth- aah almost there, that's right keep sucking me like that" he swiftly puts your gun in his back pocket to allow him to use your head easier. that's how harmless you seem to him, he doesn't even need a gun to make you submit and it hurts your pride even more.
he now grabs two handful of your hair, scalp burning in his hands, before he slides you along his shaft quicker.
he throws his head back, enjoying the unholy sounds you make along with the sweet pleasure your abused throat offers him.
you find little relief in knowing you're alone there. at least your reputation won't be too dirtied... but of course, it wouldn't be funny if that's how things went?
"y/n ?! where are you, we've received your localisation" you freeze. you recognise that voice as your colleague, a nice guy with whom you spend most of your shift with. expect for tonight.
you look up at the man above you, fearing the glint of malice in his eyes.
"they came to look for you, how sweet. do you want me to call them over to tell them you're alright baby?" he roughly removes you from his dick, allowing you to pant for air. you would've crumbled at his feet if not for the way his hand was solidly attached to your hair. it hurt and you were scared to be discovered.
you hurriedly pleaded him with multiple shakes of your head, eyes wide and looking up at him with dread.
sanzu felt like he had won, smiling satisfyingly upon witnessing how undone you looked. just a bit of manhandling, threats and having your mouth fucked was enough to turn you into a submissive cum slut? what a treat.
he was glad he decided to go pay a visit to one of his client tonight.
"damn, her car is here but she's nowhere to be found. hope she's alright, there's a lot of gang stuff going on in this place" you listen as the voices come and go, internally praying for them to leave as soon as possible and search for you somewhere else.
you were too lost in your fear that you let out a loud chocking sound when he shoved his dick again in your warm mouth, growing tired of listening to the shouting of your name. and he stayed there again, unmoving, wearing your mouth like a socket.
you tried to throw a look behind you. you could hear them but couldn't see anything as he had your back turned on the road. even though you were hidden in a dark alley, you knew sanzu could see them clearly and you could only hate the way his smile widened at your distress.
"hey be careful, you don't want them to find you if your being too loud, do you?" and with that he started pounding into your head again.
he enjoyed the way your face looked a mess, with saliva dripping down your chin and chest, knees bruised at how long you've been on the ground and how your mascara was dirtying your cheeks. it felt so good to corrupt a cute little cop like you.
he felt your throat tightening upon hearing footsteps getting closer. he knew you were scared but it only pushed him to wreck you even more.
"oh- yes that's the spot. if you keep doing that I might just nut on the spot, are you sure you're doing the right job? might as well just become a whore..."
and he finally felt it, happy to do it in your pretty mouth.
he gripped your hair tighter, coming in your mouth with low grunts. you chocked around him, helping him finish quicker. you felt the warm liquid spurting inside and you had no choice but to swallow as he wouldn't let you go until he was sure you had tasted him fully.
"fuck, that felt so good princess. I love coming into an obedient slut's mouth, always the best" he patted the top of your hair dreamily, his lips stretched into a content smile while he kept his dick inside your mouth, waiting for the high to dissolve a little.
when he finally released you, he let his dick go in a pop, letting it rest on top of your panting head, the saliva and rest of cum coating his shaft fell on your head in drops but you were too exhausted and defeated to do anything.
sanzu felt satisfied with how things turned out today and chose to leave without any regrets. he promised himself he would pay you a little visit too when he felt like it and he jokingly kissed your cheek, thanking you for your hard work.
he cleaned his member by smearing it on your face before putting it back in his pants. he threw your gun back right in front of you "I think that's yours, you can keep it baby" and with a final spit on your face, which you received with no resistance, he finally left, unapologetic and a ting of mockery in his tone "I'm sure you'll be able to keep that secret between the two of us, right princess?"
what an asshole.
you took a moment to gather yourself, messily clearing your face up with your shirt, trying your best to look presentable.
you felt ashamed of yourself for having helped this asshole to cum. you spat all you could to try and get rid of the foul taste but to no avail.
you were at least glad he wasn't here to witness your little reunion with the people you worked with for years. you know he would've laughed at you.
you dusted your knees as you stood up, stumbling on your feet which had grown weak during the past minutes. you tried to think of a good excuse to justify your lack of response and finally made yourself known to your coworkers.
"y/n, here you are! we thought something bad happened to you- wait are you okay, you look really... tired?"
Tumblr media
173 notes · View notes
prokopetz · 2 years
Text
Star-spawned
A game of tentacles and self-discovery, for 3–5 players
One unearthly night, a ray of colourless light descended from the stars, and under its warping radiance, creatures unlike any the world has ever seen were born. They do not know the world, and they do not know themselves. Unfortunately for the world, they’re quick learners!
What You’ll Need
Star-spawned requires three six-sided dice, a large sheet of blank paper – or, alternatively, a shared spreadsheet or text document – called the Discovery Sheet, and some way of noting the values of each player’s Facets.
Some rules refer to the player to your left or right; if you’re not seated around a table, work out a virtual seating order amongst yourselves before play begins.
Character Creation
Character creation in Star-spawned is undertaken as a group, and consists of two main phases: generating Facets, and assigning Facets.
Generate Facets
Roll a six-sided die twice, reading the first roll as the “tens” place and the second roll as the “ones” place, yielding a number in the range from 11 to 66. Find the corresponding row of the following table, and write down the contents of the first column. Repeat this process for the second and third columns, and arrange the results in order to find the name of a Facet. For example, if you rolled 23, 41, and 31, this would yield a Facet name of “Desmatence”.
Generate a number of Facet names equal to the number of players, and write them on the Discovery Sheet, each in a separate column with plenty of space under it.
11–12. ab | bles | age 13–14. an | cap | and 15–16. bi | cim | ary 21–22. con | dab | ate 23–24. des | dor | dom 25–26. flam | glan | en 31–32. gen | gov | ence 33–34. gro | kin | ess 35–36. jav | lin | ice 41–42. ka | mat | ing 43–44. pur | ned | ion 45–46. re | nil | ity 51–52. sle | nov | le 53–54. sun | quir | ma 55–56. tab | sped | ood 61–62. tri | sib | on 63–64. ven | tin | ous 65–66. war | tog | yle
Assign Facets
Your character begins with a rating of 1 in each Facet generated in the previous step. Distribute a number of additional points equal to the number of players (or, equivalently, equal to the number of Facets). No Facet may have a final value greater than 3. Try to avoid having two characters with the exact same spread of Facets.
Note: at the time that you assign your Facets, you will have no idea what they mean. This is intentional.
Finishing Touches
No human eye may apprehend nor human tongue express what you are. Roll or choose up to three adjectives from the following table to define the impression you leave upon others – your form is otherwise utterly indescribable. Your nameless name likewise cannot be inscribed or uttered; you may amuse yourself by imagining the epithets that will inevitably be bestowed upon you.
11–12. ancient 13–14. bulbous 15–16. cyclopean 21–22. distorted 23–24. enveloping 25–26. fluid 31–32. grasping 33–34. howling 35–36. iridescent 41–42. lurking 43–44. membranous 45–46. nebulous 51–52. oily 53–54. porous 55–56. refulgent 61–62. squamous 63–64. tentacled 65–66. throbbing
Playing the Game
The sole pursuit of Star-spawned is to discover the world, and in so doing, discover yourselves. Play proceeds without a GM: simply describe what do you and ask the group what you see: any other player may answer.
In the course of your explorations, there must come a time when you are not content merely to observe, but find yourself driven to engage in some fashion. When this time comes, you must essay one of your Facets to work your will upon the world. This can be accomplished in one of three ways: Proposing a Hypothesis, Refining a Hypothesis, or Putting Theory into Practice.
Proposing a Hypothesis
Choose a Facet which currently has fewer than three statements written under it on the Discovery Sheet. (Crossed-off statements don’t count for this purpose.) Propose a hypothesis about what that Facet does, in the following form:
“[Facet name] must [up to six words, no more]”
This statement may freely contradict existing statements written under the chosen Facet if you wish; the ways of the star-spawned are ineffable.
Next, roll a number of dice equal to your rating in the chosen Facet, and sum their values. If the sum of the dice is equal to one of the first seven prime numbers – that is, a sum of 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13 or 17 – then your unworldly intuition regarding the Facet’s purpose has led you rightly, and the hypothesis is confirmed; otherwise, it has led you astray: either the Facet is not what you think it is, or you’ve employed it incorrectly, and in both cases the hypothesis is refuted.
Note: the statistically astute may realise that the likelihood of rolling a prime sum decreases as more dice are rolled, from one in two with a single die, to two in five with two dice, to scarcely one in three with three dice. This is as it should be; the powerful are often overconfident!
If the sum of the roll is prime, find the row corresponding to the highest single die on the following table; otherwise, find the row corresponding to the lowest single die. Do not re-roll.
1. Unthinkable ruin 2. Vile ruin 3. Dreary ruin 4. Subtle glory 5. Stark glory 6. Ineffable glory
If you achieve glory, the player to your left describes the outcome of your overture; otherwise, the player to your right does. Their descriptions should bear in mind whether the hypothesis was confirmed or refuted: glory as a result of pursuing a refuted hypothesis is likely to take unexpected forms!
Finally, if the hypothesis was confirmed (i.e., the sum of the roll was prime), write it down near the top of the Discovery Sheet, under the appropriate Facet’s column, then add a question mark to remind yourself that it is, as yet, only a hypothesis. Otherwise, write it near the bottom, and cross it out to remind you that it’s been refuted.
Refining a Hypothesis
Choose an existing statement from the Discovery Sheet that’s followed by at least one question mark. Roll a number of dice equal to your rating in the statement’s associated Facet.
Next, you may – but are not required to – discard a number of dice up to the number of question marks following the chosen statement. (i.e., if there is one question mark, you may discard zero or one dice; if there are two question marks, you may discard zero, one, or two dice.) You may not discard all of the dice that you rolled – at least one must remain.
After making your discards, if any, sum the remaining dice.
If the sum of the dice is prime, your understanding of the Facet is deepened. Read the highest single die as your result, using the table above, and have the appropriate player describe the outcome. Then, add another question mark after the chosen statement.
If the sum of the dice is not prime, something unexpected happens, and your understanding of the Facet is transformed.  Read the lowest single die as your result, using the table above, and have the appropriate player describe the outcome. Then, choose one:
Modify the chosen statement on the Discovery Sheet by adding, removing, or changing a single word (observing the overall limit of six words following “must”, of course).
Remove a question mark from the chosen statement.
Finally, if the chosen statement now has three or more question marks next to it, erase them and write a period in their place: the hypothesis is now a theory. Conversely, if the chosen statement now has no question marks next to it at all, cross it off the Discovery Sheet.
Putting Theory into Practice
Choose an existing statement from the Discovery Sheet that’s followed by a period. As you’re falling back on well-understood principles, simply roll dice equal to your rating in the statement’s associated Facet, reading the highest single die as your result.
Concluding the Game
Play concludes when every Facet has at least one statement followed by a period written under it. Take what you’ve learned about yourselves and collectively describe the transformation you wreak upon the world.
2K notes · View notes