#Advantages of Table Ordering System

[foodivsystems]

Find the advantages of implementing a table ordering system in your restaurant. Explore the ways in which this technology enhances efficiency, improves customer experience, and sets the stage for a modern and dynamic dining atmosphere.

[angelltheninth]

Miguel who can't help but always stay inside his gf, especially after he hasn't seen her in a while

Well I haven't seen him in a while, haven't written about him a week at least so he has a lot to make up for.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cockwarming, oral cockwarmimg, fingering, kind of free use, gentle sex, slow sex, being needy, size difference, growling, biting, paralysis (consensual), Miguel's fangs

A/N: Finally making use of the paralysis venom thing he has.

Ah, the sweet feeling of Miguel's cock back inside you when you wake up, you've both missed this first thing in the morning but it's obvious he's been going nuts because of it

He can't get enough of you, in every way possible, he wants to be close, he wants kisses, he wants to keep his cock inside of your pussy until he has to leave again

It's not just his cock, and not just your mouth either, other things need attention too

You tease him by wearing just and apron while you cook, fully aware that he won't be able to resist lending you a helping hand, but his other hand will make its way down your back and his fingers will find their way back to the warmth if your pussy, pluging it up so you don't make even more of a mess in the kitchen

Food will taste very different to you once you've taken a few of his loads down your throat, so he does his best not to come while you keep him in your mouth under the table while he eats

One of his most difficult tasks for sure because you keep doing those flutters, pressure and licks over his sensitive tip every time he puts food in his mouth, making his breath hitch

When you eat he keeps you still in his lap, growling when ever you try to wiggle or you tighten your cunt around his length

Luckily his size and strength is an advantage, he can hold you perfectly, strong grip on your hips or your legs and him whispering to you that you need to eat in order to have the energy to keep up

If that doesn't do the trick there's always his fangs, but not while you eat, that'd be dangerous

You keep tempting him though, craning your neck and saying how there's so much pressure inside you and that you wish someone could take it away

Miguel is salivating by the time you're done

He carries you back to the bed like a pretty decoration on his cock, and you're about to become a little more than a toy, a set of holes for his big cock

Don't tell him how much you like you, he can fell it, smell it, sense the pheromones coming off you

Fangs don't come into play often but when they do you know you're in for a very long session with him

Ready to be used like his personal fuckhole you offer him your neck and wait for the sweet pain of his fangs and his venom flowing through your system, rendering you immobile for him

He holds you close as your body goes limp, kissing you while he starts moving in and out of you slowly, the pressure perfect around his cock

When you're paralyzed he's usually a little more careful because you can't tell him if it hurts more then you're able to handle, so he rips your orgasms out of you one by one like it takes an eternity

When his cock is in your mouth he counts the seconds until he pulls out to let you breathe before he fucks your throat again

Not only does he fill up all three of your holes one by one but he stays inside your pussy, cuddling with you until the paralysis wears off, kissing you until you're able to return his kiss

[dailyadventureprompts]

The Mechanics of Baldur's Gate 3

As someone who's constantly tinkering with the mechanics of my favourite RPG, I LOVE a lot of what Larian has done with D&D; not only accurately translating the base system but improving upon in ways I never thought of.

Playing BG3 feels good, and I want to see how much of their work I can adapt for my own table. As such, here's a breakdown of a bunch of little tweaks they've made to 5e (taken from the bg3 wiki) and whether or not I think they're a good fit for regular pencil and paper d&d.

Shove is not a part of the attack action. It is a bonus action available to all characters. Shove only pushes the target back an amount that depends on the shover's strength and the target's weight. It normally does not knock them prone unless they are shoved off a high ledge.

This might be THE best design Larian implemented and is instantly going in my games. Bonus action shoving is such a natural addition to combat, gives so many more tactical options. My one protest is that I am NOT calculating the weight of every creature and object ( mainly because I'm terrible at guessing weights for things) so I'd go with the distance calculation based on the creature's size and con score.

Gaining inspiration based on backgrounds

Gee, a mechanical reward for roleplaying your character, one that's way more straight forward than the DM arbitrated "ideals, bonds, flaws," system. From now on I'm going to give each of my players an upfront " You gain inspiration when you ______" note on their character sheet based on their backgrounds.

The party is limited to two short rests per long rest. Short rests restore each ally's hit points by an amount equal to half their maximum HP (rounded down). There is no hit die rolling. Long rests require camp supplies, which are food items that must be looted or purchased. In towns you will be able to rest at an inn.

This is a mixed bag for me only because I like hitdie as a mechanical abstract and I don't want to see them removed. Tbh I wish more mechanics interacted with them and they were called something abstract like "stamina" or something. That said I ADORE the camp supplies idea because it not only gives you something minor to reward exploration with besides GP. On the otherhand tracking all those supplies without the game's inventory management would be tedious as hell so it'd need to be highly simplified.

I especially like the idea of limited short rests/supplies in larger survival based adventures where time isn't at a premium like it is inside a dungeon.

If you hide while not in a creature's sight cone, you automatically succeed. If you try to hide while in a creature's sight cone, you automatically fail. If you are hidden and enter a creature's sight cone, you must roll stealth against the creature's passive perception. This may be a straight roll, advantage, or disadvantage, based on the creature's senses and the level of lighting. Some creatures with different senses such as blindsight may follow different rules

Congrats on fixing stealth rolls Larian. No notes.

LOTS more opinions under the cut.

When a creature is at least 10 ft above their target and makes a ranged attack, they receive a +2 bonus to the attack roll due to high ground. When a creature is at least 10 ft below their target and makes a ranged attack, they receive a -2 penalty to the attack roll due to low ground.

This is fine, and quite inline with a lot of fixes I've seen for flanking rules. I'm fine with a little extra battlefield math in order to make moments of advantage (spending inspiration, reckless attacking etc) shine.

The game does not stop a character from casting a leveled spell with both an action and a bonus action

Mixed on this, on one hand I've played enough clerics to know how much it sucks to have to use your bonus action to do a necessary spell and then be stuck with a so-so cantrip or melee attack for standard. On the other hand there's some design balance issues at play here.

Help is an Action. This ability allows characters to aid an ally in combat and remove negative Conditions. Using the help action on a downed ally brings them back to 1 hit point and leaves them prone.

Love the idea of help doing multiple things AND being a solution to minor status conditions. and giving everyone the ability to help means I can be a lot more aggressive when it comes to knocking character to 0. if I had to further patch this, I'd say that this also allows for a medicine check to allow a creature to spend a hitdie when they're downed, or allows the helping character to make a "SNAP OUT OF IT, WE'RE YOUR FRIENDS" charisma roll for charmed allies.

Jumping is a bonus action which consumes 10 ft of movement speed. With a Strength score of 10 or below, a creature can jump 15 ft, and this increases by 5 ft for every two points in strength above 10. At 20 Str a creature may spend 10 ft of movement speed and a bonus action to jump, and can travel 35 ft effectively increasing the creature's movement speed by up to 25 feet.

This, combined with the prone rules (see below) is JUICY, as it allows for risk-reward battlefield mobility . That said I'd add some caveats/clarifications: The jump always succeeds in moving you, but if you're taking damage, jumping up or down more than 10ft, or into rough terrain you need to make an acrobatics check not to beef it and fall prone (ending your turn). Your jump is likewise a buffer for how far you can willingly fall before taking damage, but if you fall after your jump, you always land prone.

Weapon actions, 'nough said.

It's more complexity than I'd give to first time players but HOT DAMN if it isn't a great idea to give the martial characters some options instead of just making the same attacks over and over again. I've actually been sockpiling 3rd party versions of this for a while now and I can't wait to add them in.

All The conditions are great:

Blinded: In addition to the other effects, ranged attacks are limited to 15 ft range. Blinded creatures can also make opportunity attacks.

Frightened: Creatures which are frightened are unable to move at all (rather than being unable to move toward the source of their fear), unless the effect instead makes them "fearful" which gives them the frightened effect as well as making them flee.

Prone: Being prone gives disadvantage on Strength and Dexteritysaving throws, attacks against a prone creature have advantage out to a range of 10 ft rather than 5 ft, and ranged attacks against a prone creature do not have disadvantage. Your character cannot do anything while prone. Starting the turn while prone will cause you to automatically use half your movement to stand up. Becoming prone during your turn automatically ends your turn.

Wet: This is a new condition that prevents the character from burning (e.g. from Searing Smite) and grants resistance to fire damage, but also makes the creature vulnerable to lightning and cold damage

[lemondropdancer]

ADHD Study Tips

Novel Spaces

One of the biggest things that aids me in studying is a change of scenery. Although, many people suggest having a dedicated workspace for homework and studying. That isn’t the case for me because of my ADHD I need new novel spaces. Therefore I’ve created a few spaces within my home. Solely, because a lot of spaces such as cafe’s have too many distractions such as: customers in and out, constant changing noises, and unfamiliarity.

As the mini adhd coach states the need for novel things is because it provides dopamine and fuels ADHD interest based brains. Oftentimes following the dopamine can be harmful however by creating novel spaces it makes following the dopamine useful and takes advantage of it. It’s a great motivator and it’s a lot of fun to change things up.

New situations are the most motivating for those with ADHD. Each place creates a new situation. And as soon as one becomes boring you can switch to another. I tend to move from my kitchen table to my bedroom set up.

"Notes & Coffee" by VienoR27 is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

"Kitchen Table Set Up" by VienoR27 is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

"Sofa Set Up" by VienoR27 is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

"Bedroom Set Up" by VienoR27 is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

Body Doubling

Another major thing that helps me focus is body doubling. Body doubling is when you have another person around doing some sort of task to help your brain focus better. For me I like to invite my coworkers who are in college over to body double or ask my boyfriend to body double with me. Additionally, body doubling is why I prefer to work at the kitchen table because my boyfriend can be cooking or cleaning while also acting as a body double. 

Body doubling can also work in public spaces. When I went to college in person rather than online I achieved body doubling in the library. It’s also possible to virtually body double. I tend to do that with friends in discord. Study with me videos on YouTube have also helped with body doubling.

Reminders/Planners

Something else that helps but is often hit or miss with a lot of folks with ADHD is planners, reminders, calendars, etc. Some people forget about these lists of tasks as do I. However, I make it so obnoxious that I can’t and make sure it’s everywhere. I use a physical planner for almost everything from assignments, to-do’s, and due dates. I use my Google Calendar for major due dates as well as meetings and my work schedule. I then also use Momentum, a chrome extension for a to-do list. In addition to that I write out a schedule by the hour as well as a to-do list in order of priority.

Although mine is a bit excessive, I think having a physical as well as a digital is very helpful especially if the digital can send reminders.

Follow the Dopamine not the Priority

Despite the goal of getting things done in order of priority, sometimes it’s easier to start on the task that’ll get the dopamine flowing and get you into that flow state. More often than not doing that task and then the higher priority task is faster than sitting on the higher priority task for a lot longer because your brain simply doesn’t want to focus. Therefore, sometimes following the dopamine is the best option.

Create a Reward System

When studying for large bursts I tend to use my breaks as little reward periods. Usually because I’m studying with a coworker we devise the breaks in terms of assignment or when both of us are starting to zone out and get less productive. For us because our study sessions overlap meals we’ll do our rewards such as going and grabbing food or getting boba and things of that nature. Once it was a Target run to get supplies for a root beer float which was the following break.

Fidget

Find ways to fidget that allow you to remain focused simultaneously. I tend to like to bounce my feet or chew gum. However, depending on what you’re doing you can use putty, stress balls, fidget cubes, etc.

I think this helps with restlessness and remaining calm while doing homework. I’ve also found it helps me avoid getting too overwhelmed especially if I’m behind on tasks or have procrastinated.

Use Caffeine & Sugar but WISELY

I tend to use caffeine when studying. I’m currently not medicated due to other conditions. So I use caffeine to self-medicate in a way. For this to work though you have to find the sweet spot that doesn’t make you sleepy or overly anxious. So it tends to have to be sips that are tapering out the caffeine slowly.

[draftsandrecs]

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader finds herself crushing on her sister’s ex boyfriend after they run in to each other years after the break up.

Word Count: 4,670

Warnings: 18+, smut, no condoms, dirty talk

Taglist: @jbbarnes-dog-tags

‘And substitute regular milk for oat milk please.’ 

You type a quick ‘okay’ to your sister as you head to the coffee shop that you frequent almost every day. Today’s weather is sort of gloomy but nice. Lately it’s been rainy, mild showers and light thunderstorms. Your favorite kind of weather to have a latte while accompanied with a book. You scrub the bottom of your shoes against the coffee’s welcome mat to prevent tracking in mud or leaves. 

“Good morning, welcome to Aristocrats!” You thank the familiar barista as you head to the counter pulling out your phone to order both drinks.

“What can I get you?” The barista asks with a smile on their face.

“Can I get a hot vanilla latte with 2 shots of espresso and oatmilk?” The employee mumbles the order back as they input it into the system as you continue.

“I also would like an iced chai latte with 3 pumps of brown sugar syrup instead of vanilla. As well as one shot of espresso, thank you.” You put your phone away as you get your wallet out from your bag.

“$15.28, cash or card?” The barista asks as you hand them your card to swipe.

You find a few dollar bills stashed in your bag as you drop it into the tip jar.

“Thank you, just give us a few minutes.” Handing you the card back you put it back into its usual spot as you crumble the receipt into the bag.

One of the reasons why you love this coffee shop isn’t just for the drinks but the book collection they have along with the scenery. It’s located downtown with windows that face the street that pour in natural light. The owner kept most of its natural architecture. Which included the layout, windows that surround the building on two walls, as well as the little fireplace that runs on cold days. 

As you wait for the drinks you browse a few magazines near a table before you find one that peaks your interest. You situate yourself near a bar in front of the front facing windows to take advantage of the light that projects in. You flip through the first couple pages not caring for the luxurious ads of Gucci or Louis Vuitton. You never understood why anyone would spend thousands on a bag. You ignore the bell above the door that signals a customer as you continue reading about a woman’s divorce and her advice. While you have never been married it’s interesting to read about people’s lives.

“Here you go, hot vanilla latte and an iced chai.” The barista sets the drinks down as you reply with a thank you. 

You look towards the counter as you spot a man ordering. Something along the lines of an americano. Typical. Men never go for good drinks. Reaching for your drink you realize you forgot a straw. Getting up you head to the side of the counter to grab one. As you begin to reach for one another, one hand is trying to grab a cocktail straw for their drink.You quickly retreat your hand back apologizing. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You say, embarrassed as if you were in his space. 

“No troubles, you’re fine.” You turn to him finally getting a good look at him as he does the same.

“Oh shit, hey kid. How’ve you been?” It’s Bucky, your sister's ex-boyfriend. His eyes light up as he smiles at you. Like he’s excited to see you. 

“I’ve been good. I finished up my last semester early. In December I graduated well. I didn't walk but I received the diploma which is just as good.” He crosses his arms as he listens to you furrowing his eyebrows that he always used to when listening intently.

He smiles as he lightly pats your upper arm in congratulations, “Hey that's great, really, you find any jobs or anything yet?” 

“No, I mean I have but the pay is so shit that it’s not even worth it.” He nods understanding the job market has plummeted. 

“I get that, if I hadn’t secured the job I have now a few years ago I probably would be back in school not knowing what to do.” Bucky came from an affluent family. His family always had money due to businesses, properties, and of course trusts and estates. His comment comes off a little tone deaf but you know he means well just trying to relate.

“Thanks,” he says as he grabs the drink from the barista as he begins adding a little packet of heavy cream.

“You stay around here? Or often?” He questions out of curiosity but also a small part of him hopes you say yes.

“Oh yeah. I moved back in with my parents after college. I mean- I don’t have a job so I really had no choice.” You hope you don’t sound like a complete fool of yourself. No job, living with parents, and your daily activities consist of getting coffee and reading.

“You’re still figuring it out, there’s no time limit.” His words comfort you, making you feel less alone. Even if he can’t exactly relate, it’s still nice to have someone understand your struggles.

Bucky continues to ask, “If you got a few minutes, you mind if we sit and catch up?” You smile and nod, letting out a small yes as you lead him to your little nook.

You're laughing at some story he’s telling from a recent event he went to where a kid found drawing on the walls of an art exhibit. 

“Oh no, did the parents do anything?” You ask taking a sip of your mostly watered down chai.

“God no, remember these people think that their kids can do no wrong. Instead the dad threw him over his shoulder as they left quickly.” His answer made you shake your head wondering how parents never discipline their children.

“What have you been up to? Last thing I heard you were supposed to be taking over the family business.” The family business was just that- business. It was just managing properties, selling, and trading. But it brought in so much revenue. It’s the most popular realtor company in the state along with locations in neighboring states. It was started in the 40’s by Bucky’s great great grandfather and has now succeeded multiple generations.

“I have, well not entirely. I told my dad that I wanted to travel some first before settling with the job. Once you’re in that position all you can do is live for work, live to work. It just seems exhausting.” He sighs as he runs his hand through his short hair.

“You know I have a degree in Architecture, and I want to put that to use but my dad keeps pressuring me to take over the business. The money is good-

You cut him off,“But is it worth it? Money is great but if you aren’t happy with your job or what you do, no amount of money can compare to your happiness.” 

“Yes, exactly. I’ve been sort of going back and forth on it but maybe I just need to go with what I want rather than what someone else wants.” Saying the quiet part outloud made Bucky realize that he wants to do what makes him happy regardless of money or fortune.

“You know you’re pretty insightful for your age. I wish I was like that when I was in my early 20s. But you seem so grounded. That’s very admirable Y/N.” The compliment causes your heart to skip a beat. You usually don’t get too many compliments, especially not on your mental or emotional intelligence.

“Thank you, it’s probably the books and because I’m the youngest child.” Your sister and you have a 10 year age gap that didn’t really help form a sibling relationship until you entered high school.

You weren’t planned which resulted in a little bit (a lot) of negligence from your parents. They had albums of pictures of her, always went to her events, and constantly doted on her. You were the youngest and the last. You were often thought of last. If you wanted them to make it to your events, school lunches, or any activity they'd send your grandparents. Which you became very close with at a young age because they noticed the difference between you and your sister. They never made you feel like a burden or second thoughts. You’ll always be grateful for that. Your parents apologized to you when you were older but the childhood trauma still stuck. 

“I forgot you guys did have an age gap. I guess it’s more noticeable when you were younger.” His comment glides over, not caring to bring up your sister, his ex-girlfriend. Which you’re kind of happy about since he asked to catch up with you and he genuinely meant it. 

 Before he can get another word in your phone lights up, your sister is calling. 

“You need to get that?” Bucky asks, noticing the screen.

“Yeah probably.” You sigh internally knowing that the coffee catch up is ending soon.

You swipe on the screen as you hold up a finger to give you a second.

“Where are you? It’s been an hour, I thought you said you were just getting coffee, not running errands.” Her voice is a little upset and can be heard by Bucky which makes you cringe a little.

“I’m sorry, I ran into someone and wanted to catch up.” Yeah her ex who you seem to be getting along with a little too well.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t know where my coffee was. Or you.” The last part was thrown in quickly to save herself. You know she doesn’t mean to be rude but that’s just how she can be.

“I’ll be home soon, sorry for taking so long. I didn’t realize how long I was out.” You really didn’t mean to take so long but the conversation lasted longer than expected.

The phone beep indicates a hang up as her reply.

“I’m sorry, I guess I got to go. But it was really nice seeing you again.” You stand up to gather your belongings.

“I really enjoyed it. I had a nice time, I really needed it.” Bucky meant what he said. It had been a while since he had a genuine conversation that wasn’t about work or mundane questions.

“Maybe we can catch up again, I mean I obviously don’t work so I’m always free.” You're hopeful that he’ll agree instead of it just being a one time occurrence.

“You have my number still? Or can I get yours?” You shake your head not remembering if your phone transferred his contact from the last time you updated it.

 He grabs his phone to unlock it and lets you type in your number. Once you save your contact you head towards the door,“I got to run, but like I said just message me whenever you’re free. I can always make time.” I can always make time for you is what you wanted to say but bit your tongue instead. 

“For sure, I’ll text you soon.” He promises as he watches you walk out of the small coffee shop knowing he’s already forming a liking to you. 

It’s been a few months since you ran into Bucky at the coffee shop. Since that day you guys had been messaging non stop. Which quickly turned into late night phone calls that made your stomach hurt from laughing and cheeks sore from smiling. You only get together once a week since he’s still helping his dad and it took up most of his day. But he never fails to call or message you throughout the day to let you know what he’s up to. You’ve learned a lot from each other these past few months. He loves classic cars, museums, and fashion. He doesn’t care much for the bars but will go when his friends plan to. He designs a lot and is great at drawing too. He enjoys taking you out to museums, botanicals, and lately since the weather is better he’s taken you on hike trails. In return you’ve introduced him to books you enjoy and have started listening to audiobooks together. You’ve also found out how to make your own coffee. Bucky has an espresso machine in his condo that he never used. But together you guys figured out how to make your favorite drinks. Though you still go to the same coffee shop for convenience. It’s been a week since you’ve hung out and you expect a hangout session is due.

It’s morning when you get an unexpected call from Bucky. You answer without hesitation excited to hear his voice.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask as you sit on your bed anticipating his message. 

“What are you doing?” He sounds like he has a smile on his face, which you picked up quickly through the phone calls how his voice and facial expressions match.

“Nothing, just at home.” You look over at the clock next to you flashing 9:52 a.m.

“Would you be opposed to packing a bag and going to the next state over?” At first you thought he was joking until he said “you there?”

“No, I mean yes that sounds fun.I’d love to tag along” You say quickly gathering yourself. 

“Perfect. I can be there in an hour. Just got to drop off a few things for my dad and I’ll be on the way. You won’t need much, just a few things to last a night or so. Oh and pack a nice dress, I want to take you on a date.” Your heart flutters at the word date, he hadn’t used that word yet, neither have you. It was sort of a weird territory but this solidified there is more. 

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then!” You hang up letting the phone fall on the bed as you rush to get ready and pack looking forward to the night. 

You arrived around a little after 3 in the next state. But since you couldn’t check in until 4 o’clock Bucky showed you a few places around the city. You ventured into antique shops, locally owned book shops, and of course you had to try a coffee shop. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted and insisted that you had to pick out at least one thing that he could buy you or else you couldn’t leave the store. You opted for a few books (it was five in total of hardcover books you could never find near you and were too expensive to order online). He seemed pleased to be funding your reading addiction. 

You check your phone’s time making sure you’re not late getting ready. Bucky said to be ready by 6:45 and you’re cutting it close at 6:30 trying to finish a few makeup touch ups.  And you haven’t even gotten dressed yet. Bucky left the room an hour ago so you could get ready in private. He didn’t want to intrude on your space saying that ‘I know how women are. My mom always enjoyed getting ready alone because she didn’t want to feel rushed.’ He was right, if he was in the same room you’d feel like you would have to get ready quickly. 

You curse trying to get your heels ons as you lace up the second heel trying to secure it as much as possible so you wouldn’t fall. As you’re finishing up and repacking your makeup to clean up the area the door clicks open as Bucky walks in. You turn to him hoping he likes it. It’s nothing extravagant to you compared to their style. It’s a black strapless elongated dress tailored to your height. A narrow slit starts from the upper thigh opening towards the bottom. 

“Wow, you look incredible. I mean not that you don’t always look good but today, tonight you just look exceptional.” You try not to smile at his words but fail. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him flustered. 

“Thank you, is this too much? It’s my old winter formal dress but I didn’t have time to get a new one.” You hope your attire suits the restaurant dress code. The last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself in front of him.

“No, you look perfect. It’s perfect.” He’s matching with black slacks, sweater, and a long peabody coat. 

“I can say the same for you, I like the monochromatic look. It suits you.” Your comment makes him smile as it means a lot coming from you. 

“I wanted to look my best for you.” He checks his watch, noticing the time,”we should probably head down. The valet is waiting for us.” He holds out his hand as you accept it.

The waiter sat you at a booth per Bucky’s request. You’re glad to sit to relieve pressure off your feet. You only walked a little but the heels are skinny and feel like they’re stabbing your feet. Bucky orders drinks for you as you look at the menu. It’s limited but that’s how most fine dining restaurants operate.

“I want you to get whatever you want. My treat.” You don’t say thank you this time. “Don’t worry, I will.” Your reply comes out teasingly creates a smirk on his face knowing that you’re comfortable around him and letting him treat you accordingly.. 

The finished entrees have been pushed to the side leaving waiting to be picked up as you listen to him talk about this week's work load. Your phone interrupts him mid sentence as a message comes through from your sister. He doesn’t mean to pry, it was in the middle of the table after all.

“Do you need to get that?” He asks politely knowing that he’d give you all the time you needed.

You check it before answering him.

‘Hey, just checking on you, hope you’re doing okay. It feels like we haven’t talked in a little bit.’ For a second you feel bad. But you also know she only comes around when you don’t make plans or reach out first. You are always chasing and you hate forcing things, especially familial ties. It’s also not just that, that makes you feel bad. You’re sitting across from her ex-boyfriend who she dated for 4 years who she thought she was going to marry. Given it’s been two years since they’ve broken up. Now you’re sitting here wondering if you should leave for her sake or stay for what your heart wants. 

“No it’s fine, just something with my sister.” He must’ve noticed your demeanor change as he grabs your hand from the table. He rubs his thumb across your hand soothing you. 

“I get it, this situation isn’t ideal nor normal in a sense. It’s confusing, conflicting. Like you're questioning yourself what's right and wrong or too far. If you want me to take you home tonight and never speak again I understand. But I will say regardless of what happens after tonight. It’s up to you. It’s your feelings I respect ultimately. But I want you to know, I’d regret it if I don’t at least try. Because even though it’s only been a few months since we reconciled, I finally got to know someone that I have never met. Emotionally and mentally you captivate me in a way no one else has. Someone that actually listens to me, understands me, and wants me for me, not for what I have. I would be a fool not to chase someone like that regardless of who they're tied to.” He takes a small breath before finishing, “I don’t want to imagine a life without you. If it’s not you then I don’t want anyone. Above all I don’t want to walk away from tonight without telling you how I feel. What I feel is you, you make up my thoughts, I see you in my future.  I’d do anything to prove that love I have for you. Even if it means allowing you to walk away tonight. Because you’re the most important thing to happen to me in a long time. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you or make you choose something you aren’t ready for. I’m here for you even if you walk away, I’ll always come to you if you need me.” 

His eyes are a little teary as he cups your hand with both of his hands and kisses it. 

“You don’t have to make up your mind right n-” He’s cut off by you.

You interrupt him as you lean closer to the table with a shaky breath.“I don’t want to live a life I regret. Especially regretting someone that I could have a life with but chose not to out of fear or for someone else's feelings. I don’t know where life is supposed to lead me but I know I want it with you. Most people follow through with decisions based on what’s most logical but I choose my heart. And my heart wants you.”  

He leans over the table as you meet him halfway to kiss him. Letting his lips envelope yours, soft and plump like you imagined. It’s sweet and gentle like him. You pull away from the short kiss wishing it lasted longer but you’re also in public. 

“So you for sure don’t want to go home?” He asks one more time knowing your answer.

“Not unless it’s with you.” 

No words are exchanged as you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one of your legs is on his shoulder as he takes off your shoe. As he unties the last heel he kisses from your ankle to your thigh. Moving upwards to the wetness between your thighs. You lay back on the bed allowing for more access. He kneels on the floor, grabbing your ass and pulling it closer to him for better positioning. Your dress is pushed up, bunched around your waist as he pulls your panties off. He throws them to the side discarding them. You feel his breath on your pussy for a second before he kisses it. He gives the mound and lips little kisses teasing you as you wait for him to give you more. Shivers run down your spine as you feel his tongue on your slit. He flattens it to cover the whole area, licking a few times. Savoring the taste of you. He takes your swollen clit into his mouth to gently suck on. You can feel your clit pulsate as his tongue teases the little nub. Flicking it  and rubbing it in a circle with his tongue. Causing your hands to find his hair as you grip it and grind against his face. His hand reaches between your thighs as he rubs the soft skin gently before he runs two fingers over your wet pussy. A moan escapes your mouth as you feel his hand on your wet cunt. Once his fingers are wet, he uses one finger to open you up. Allowing you to get used to the feeling before he adds another. Another finger joins the first stretching you. It gives you some relief as you rock yourself on his fingers a little as he begins to lap at your clit. Tonguing the nerve as he finger fucks your small hole.

“Your fingers feel so good.” You moan gripping his hair.

He removes his face from your pussy, “you taste amazing. Just as I thought” He gets back to his feet to lean over you as he begins to furiously fuck you on his fingers. You’re cursing at him as he continues, loving the sounds you’re making and faces you make when you’re being pleasured. You place your fingers on your clit as you feel yourself getting close. Rubbing circles and other motions to aid in relief. You’re begging him at this point whimpering knowing how close you are. He adds one more finger stretching you beyond belief knowing that you can take it

“You’re taking my fingers so well I can’t imagine how good it’ll feel on my dick.” . He says as he guides you while you’re cumming. Letting you know how good you are and how pretty you are. 

He waits a few more seconds before he pulls out his fingers leaving you empty. He gets off the bed to take off the rest of his clothes, swiftly undoing his buckle and pants to reveal a very prominent hard-on. You move closer to the headboard to get more comfortable as you wait for his return.

“I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on having sex.” He’s on the bed again rubbing his cock trying to relieve the pressure.

“I don’t care, I just want you inside me.” Your voice is needy as he grins before he’s quickly in between your legs again. 

He rubs his cock up and down your slit. Letting the juices coat the tip. He teases the clit for a second until you whine wanting him inside you. He lines his cock up at your entrance with one hand letting the tip slowly enter. He looks at you, watching your face to make sure he’s not hurting you. You gasp as he slides in, his length completely filling you up.

“You doing okay?” You nod as he waits for a second before moving.

His thrusts are gentle to not hurt your cervix. He knows his size is above average and easy to bruise if too rough. He leans down to kiss you, one hand on your hip, the other on your face. His kiss is hungry and rough compared to his thrusts. 

“I’ve been waiting for this. Dreaming about this.” He says moaning into your mouth.

“I know, I’ve cum to you so many times.” You confess.

“I can’t count the times you’ve made me hard by just being next to you.” His pace quickens up which makes you grip his biceps.

“Fuck.” You draw out the word as he continues pounding.

He grabs your legs, bending your knees to your chest. This position leaves you completely folded, breathless, with how deep he is. 

‘Fuck you’re so big Bucky.” You say throwing your head back.

“Maybe your cunt is just too tiny then. Maybe I just need to keep stretching you out then so you don’t forget who you belong to.” He leans his head down to watch his cock retreat in and out of your hole. Mesmerized by the wetness glistening on his cock. 

He bites his lip as he slowly pulls out almost all the way, just to thrust back in. He loves watching your face as he’s inside you. Your little sounds and whimpers almost send him over the edge entirely with how sweet you are. You move your hips against his cock, meeting his thrusts. You’re so wet you can’t even tell if you’ve already cum or not. Sweat is building up on his forehead as you watch him pound into you. You know he’s close by the erratic thrusts.

“Where can I cum?” He asks, needing an answer quickly or else he’s about to make you a milf.

“Inside me. I’m on birth control.” He moans leaning down to kiss you as his thrusts speed up and his body shakes. Your walls grip him tightly as he spills his seed inside of you. Filling your cunt until it’s dripping.

Once he’s finished he gets a warm rag to clean you up. Letting the warmness soothe your now aching core.

“I love you” Bucky says as he doesn’t care to look for a ‘right time’ anymore.

“I love you too.” You really do.

[agirlandherkinks]

Control Variables: Part 1 (Hypno, Expansion)

[Ally's Notes: The hypno and expansion bits come in the next part, this ended up being way bigger than I expected so I split it up] [I'd describe as weird corporate science-experiment-soft-non-con with a fun latexy skinsuit involved :3]

"HINATA! Where the FUCK did you put the hydraulic pump?!?"

An indignant voice barged into your consciousness, waking you up.

You were... somewhere? You opened your eyes, but only blackness greeted you. Were you in bed? Some kind of weight was pulling down on your head, so you must be upright. A helmet? You felt so, so tired and relaxed and comfy, the kind of grogginess that comes from sleeping 11 hours in a row. A harried voice with a strong accent (Japan, maybe?) barked back, making you wince.

"Well maybe YOU shouldn't decide to rearrange the workshop half an hour before a subject intake Lucinda! I have a perfect organizational system, if you would just. Stop... messing with the natural order of things... please?"

The voice trailed off until it was almost inaudible, and you realized that your ears felt muffled by something. Maybe you had a headset on? But why would you go to sleep wearing one of those? You attempted to bring your hand up to feel what it was, but with a gasp of surprise, found that you were tied up. Panic began to pierce your sleep-addled mind as you struggled against your bonds, your two captors seemingly oblivious as they argued. Panting from exertion (and embarrassingly, slight arousal), you stopped and took stock of your situation.

You were being held upright, against some sort of cushioned plank. Cold metal cords snaked tightly around your wrists and ankles, holding you spreadeagled and helpless. You could feel the cool breeze of an air conditioner caress your chin, arms, and legs, bringing up goosebumps. Your torso was covered in a clingy material, maybe some kind of wet latex? Your throat felt ever so slightly constricted, as if a wide metal collar wrapped around it. And with a start of outrage and fear, you realized you could feel cold air brushing against your pussy, nipples, and the side of your waist. There were windows in those areas! Were you in some sort of sex dungeon?!? Desperation overrode your self-control as you began thrashing against your restraints, yelling out against the slim chance someone could hear.

"Oh shit, she's come out of it-" Lucinda yelped. "Hinata! Get your sorry ass to that computer, or I will fucking end your career when the yearly peer review comes round! Ok, ok. Ok. Actually. Hinata, this development may be to our advantage. Begin recording."

Silence reigned for a few seconds, then bright light filled your vision as someone pulled your headset off. Blinking in pain as your eyes adjusted, you began to take in the space around you. If it was a sex dungeon, it had to be the weirdest one you'd ever seen. Pipes, wrenches, bolts and wiring filled the space around you, half of them not even connected to the convoluted machinery that surrounded you. Swinging your head around revealed no exit door, but you took in a few important details. A tank of fluid with a few... hoses, attached? Some devices that looked an awful lot like sex toys sat on the table next to them. On the far side of the room a reedy, anxious-looking man stood furiously tapping at a terminal, looking half-swallowed by an oversized lab coat. And uncomfortably close to your face, an immaculately preened woman with golden-red hair, clinically dead eyes, and an inexplicable boob window in her own lab coat stood smiling. It was a wide smile, very toothy, obviously meant to be reassuring. It put you in mind of a shark.

"Oh my goodness dear, we didn't realize you had woken up!" Her voice was chirpy and sweet, completely at odds with the fire-breathing she displayed earlier. "I'm so sorry for the distress you must be feeling. You see, subjects here are normally kept unconscious for the full duration of testing."

"T-testing?" You stammered, mouth feeling dry.

"Oh, do you not remember coming here? Many subjects have the same experience when interviewed afterwards, so that shows your procedure is still going to plan." Was her smile even wider now? "My name is Lucinda, that... gentleman over there is Hinata, and this is an R&D lab of BrainBlender Industries."

"That freaky sex toy company?!" you blurted, feeling your cheeks flare with heat. You had volunteered to test sex products? With THIS company?!?

"Not just sex toys," Lucinda cheerfully replied, smile now threatening to escape the bounds of her face. She clearly knew about the wild rumors surrounding BrainBlender. "We also produce recreational gear, leisurewear, and technology at the absolute cutting-edge of communication, biology, and psychology. We employ the finest minds for our development teams, and are absolutely stringent in the safety protocols of our testing sessions. And do try to relax. I'm sure you at least remember how much you're being paid for this."

The protests bubbling in your throat died as a 5-digit figure flashed out of your memory. Who could turn that down?

"Exactly!" she crowed, reading the expression on your face.

"Hey, so uh, what was the t-test going to be?" You stammered with embarrassment as you asked the question, having looked down and seen how stiff your nipples really were in the open air. You did have to admit though, the strange one-piece you wore was quite fetching. The material was a shimmery rose-gold with rose-red highlights running along its seams. It clung to your waist, hips, and admittedly quite small breasts in a way that made you feel sexy even while spreadeagled in a lab. And the way those windows curved around your nipples, they seemed to form the outline of cute little hearts. If you still weren't so mortified at waking up in a corporate sex dungeon, you probably would have giggled.

"Sorry sweetie, but we're conducting blind trials here. We'll start getting you back under in a minute." The redhead's cooed, corporate smile now unsettlingly authentic in response to your discomfort. "You see, we have to test your body's response to stimuli under completely controlled conditions. Otherwise, your expectations might change the way you process the input you're going receive."

"And speaking of input..." Lucinda produced a small device from her pocket, briefly holding it up to the light for inspection. Some sort of key? She began to dictate, completely ignoring your apprehension as she brought it towards your neck. "Test B279, new variation Delta. Variables of initial subject lucidity and individuality now left uncontrolled, to explore the effects of pleasure and conditioning on subject psyche in greater detail." You tried to shy back, but she continued inexorably forward, dictating over the top of your protests. One hand held the collar of your suit, and she began to sliiide the device into an opening within it. "First element of the conversion process: Initiated."

"Wait no no no n-" Click.

You gasped in euphoria as near-orgasmic levels of pleasure began coursing through your body, pulsing outwards from your neck to the rest of your torso. Biting your lip and arching your back, you couldn't decide whether to moan, giggle, or cry. Every inch of skin that touched your outfit blazed with pleasure, as if it was making your whole torse just as sensitive as your G-spot. Your self-restraint began to crumble as you started instinctively humping and twisting in place. You desperately needed to touch yourself, but all you could do was slide your ass and back against the plank. It felt gooooood.

"As planned and... visibly evident, the inserted module is circulating dopamine and oxytocin throughout the membrane of the pleasure-suit. The hormones are then transferred into the subject via contact with the skin." Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Lucinda circle behind you. "What is interesting is that this process appears to be causing the subject's skin to act as a primary erogenous zone. Note the elicited moans whenever it makes contact with the support plank."

She moved back to your side, and you heard the sound of a rubber glove being stretched over a hand. "Hypothesis 1: Sexual sensitivity increases exponentially with the skin's proximity to the suit." A firm hand gripped your ankle, and you whined in frustration as the plank moved away, leaving you held in the air. "Observe how the subject seems to attain no relief from contact with skin in its extremities. But here..." The hand crept up to your shin, and you shivered. "Subject's reaction is in line with a typical response to contact with the inner thigh. And speaking of-" Lucinda's musings were cut off by your moan as she squeezed your thigh. "Similar response to a tug of the nipple in an average female-" She cut off with a yelp as your hips unconsciously ground against her face. The brief contact made you moan even harder, feeling like someone had turned up a vibrator inside of you. "Subject rapidly losing composure, on the verge of a first orgasm. Two more samples required." And without warning, she slapped your ass.

Your vision went white as you screamed in pleasure. You didn't care about being recorded, or watched. You were in heaven and needed more. Warm fluid ran down your thighs, pussy leaking as you approached climax. You wanted them to do things to you, needed them to do things to you. Bucking blindly, you screamed for them to keep going, to use you.

"Okkkk, subject exhibiting drastically altered behaviour and desires in response to artificial hormone circulation. Compliance is reinforced by pleasure and dopamine. Device will replace dopamine with serotonin and melatonin soon, so I am taking the final sample before subject loses consciousness." A hand grasped your exposed waist, holding you still and sending waves of euphoria through your shaking body. You felt your insides tighten. Keep going so close so close so so so so so so s-

"Beginning vaginal stimulation."

A finger entered your pussy, and ever so gently prodded your clitoris.

With a wild shriek you snapped your head back and came. And came. And kept cumming. It felt like ten orgasms at once, all stacking and intensifying on top of each other. You squirted and squirted and sprayed, soaking your legs and the floor and an indignant Lucinda in your messy cum as you writhed and convulsed in the air. It was better than anything you had ever felt before. You didn't want to stop. You couldn't stop. You... you... couldn't stop...

So tired...

A beep sounded from the device in your collar, and darkness claimed you even as your body continued to twist in climax.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

PART 2: COMING SOONISH TY FOR UR PATIENCE <333

[paperclipped-mongoose]

Convincing Enough For You?

Pairing: Angus Macgyver x F! Reader

Summary: An important mission came up, and during the briefing it became clear that Mac didn't think you were the right fit for the flirtatious role.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Use of Y/N (not excessive), First Person, Fight Flirting, Arguing, A malfunctioning MacGyver, A villain who likes to take advantage of women, Couple Arguments. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hey Guys! This my first MacGyver Fanfiction, I love writing the series and characters so let me know if you guys like it! Comments and messages mean the world to me! If you've got any ideas for future fic's my idea box is open! ENJOY!

“I’m not sure if this is the best idea, Matty. You know how they feel about each other.” Riley trailed after her boss as they made their way down the hall to the war room. She had been let in on the game plan for the next mission early because Matty needed her input.

“They’re adults. They can put their feelings, undefined they are, away in order to do their job professionally.” Matty could hope. Ever since you joined the Phoenix Foundation there had been a certain animosity between you and a certain human encyclopedia. You were never sure if it was flirting or trying to get on each other’s nerves. 

Matty could hear the sounds of shouting from the war room down the hall. “Oh, get your head out of the clouds! You know all too well that if it wasn’t for Bozer and Jack you would have blown yourself up, gotten shot, or made some kinda poisonous gas to kill yourself. You think you’re way more aware than you are. But newsflash: you’re not!” You paused to take a breath, you had made sure to choose your words carefully, they were nothing if not the truth. Mac could make a plane out of a recycling bin and some potatoes, but he routinely got his ass saved by Jack in the field, and Bozer in his own home. 

Mac stood in front of the coffee table, his arms crossed tight across his chest. “At least I actually do things to save our asses on missions. Or were you the one who made infrared glasses so we could see the cameras when Riley couldn’t access the system?”

Something about Mac’s defensiveness made you want to egg him on continually. Maybe it was because you liked to hear him talk, even when it wasn’t in a positive way. There were days where the two of you were civil and even friendly, but those days were boring. No conversations would be had, and the day inevitably turned into awkward silence and stares. 

Neither you nor Mac liked it that way. 

So you picked on each other. It was clear there were never any ill intentions, but sometimes it rode the line and, you were sure, made your coworkers wonder if you and Mac were actually mad. To be fair, it was a question that rarely had a simple answer. But that was just the way the two of you were. Complicated. And you wouldn’t have taken it any other way. 

“Can we go one meeting without you two saying something distasteful to each other? One meeting. That’s all I’m asking.” Matty pulled up her screen on the wall before shooting a pointed look at those who stood around the room. Jack observed the screens as they came up, and Riley sat on one of the chairs doing her best to ignore you and Mac, knowing how this would go, and something told her Matty wouldn’t get her wish for peace.

“This is Bryan Snyder.” A rather unpleasant-looking man was pulled up on the full screen along with his Phoenix records. “Hacker extraordinaire with a rap sheet a mile long of gambling offenses.” Matty flashed a couple photos across the screen of Bryan surrounded by presumable winnings and women. 

Riley finally took a cue from Matty and spoke up. "He's had incidents filed with multiple casinos, all stemming from his pension for picking up women who've just fought with their partners, while the partner is around."

Jack scoffed as he found his way to the empty seat next to Riley. “Sounds like he's made a game out of picking up girls on the rebound."

Jack’s comment earned a grin from Riley, who added: "At least he looks like he tips well."

Your leg bounced involuntarily as you fiddled with the few paperclips in your hand—not bending them, just linking them together one after the other to make a chain. It drove Mac mad, and you knew it. He was one who did things with purpose, so idly fiddling with some paperclips without reshaping or bending them clawed at him internally. “So what is our position in this?” you finally spoke up. “I didn’t know the Phoenix Foundation did personal vendetta work for ex-girlfriends.” 

Matty shook her head watching Mac who silently but unsubtly stared you down as you wrapped the paperclip chain around your wrist to make a bracelet. “Not a vendetta. A prevention service for the Parisian government. Snyder holds a virus on his laptop that, if released onto the broadband servers of France, would cause nationwide blackouts and hold millions of people’s information hostage.”

Jack’s face soured at the thought. “Oooh, okay, yeah, so not an angry ex-girlfriend. Got it.”

“We’ve had Riley coding a USB drive that, once plugged in, can give her access to the computer’s system. That way she can corrupt the virus so that when he tries to open it, none of the code will be salvageable. The only thing our team needs to worry about is getting that drive plugged into Snyder’s computer for 8 minutes without him noticing.” 

Another scoff came from Jack. “No offense, Matty, but this guy seems like the kinda nerd to be obsessed with his computer. He’s probably one of those weirdos who treats it like his baby or something.” He immediately turned to Riley who had her computer in her lap. He pressed his lips together and stood up, walking towards the other wall to get as far away from Riley as possible. “I’m just gonna shut up now.”

“Yeah, smart choice.”

“The plan, if you guys will ever let me get to it, is this: Is to send in (Y/N) with a partner to pose as our unhappy couple, Bryan has a stay booked with a casino in Monaco this weekend. It’s his last stop on the way into France. A messy breakup in the middle of the casino should be enough to pique Snyder’s interest, and from there all (Y/N) has to do is get him to take her to his hotel room so she can connect the USB to his laptop, which shouldn’t be so hard given his M.O. After 8 minutes, once Riley’s USB has done its job, (Y/N) will take it out and destroy it so it’s not traceable.” Matty pressed her lips together firmly when she noticed Mac shifting his stance and uncrossing his arms, which normally meant that he had something to say. “Can I help you Blondie?”

Mac took the opportunity and stepped forward. “Why don’t we just send in Riley? If the USB doesn’t work, she’ll be able to disable the virus manually. Plus,” a strong look of disdain settled on his face, “I don’t think (Y/N) can flirt convincingly enough to get him to take her back to his room. It’s dangerous to put the weight of a mission on it without a backup.” 

That got you mad. You stood and eyed Mac in his stupid power stance. His hands on his hips while he stared at the screen as if he was avoiding eye contact with you. You wondered where all of his confidence had suddenly gone.

“Oh? You don’t think I can handle it?” You took a confident couple steps towards Mac. A well-placed hand on his forearm brought his big blue eyes back to you, somewhat confused as to what you were doing but it didn’t seem as if he was going to stop you. 

You took his silence as permission to continue and slid your hand down his arm, bringing your free hand up to play with the suede lapel of his jacket near his chest. You lifted your eyes to meet his for a single, shy moment and couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed. Who thought it was a good idea to give a man with such a perfect face those baby blues? Fuck.

Mac was malfunctioning, his jaw slack as he tried to focus on anything other than how close you were to him. Or the fact he could feel your breath on his neck, or the way your hands held him. Tantalizing and unobtainable. He was sure if either of you did anything in the oncoming moments he’d find himself too deep to back out. 

You slid the fingers fiddling with his jacket past his chest to his abdomen, felt the shiver run up his spine even though he tried his best to hide it. Your fingers reached his beltline with more confidence than you felt, and…there was a undeniable tension. One that left you wondering if perhaps you should excuse yourself and drag Mac into some unoccupied office down the hall. 

A quick smack below the belt and Mac was half-keeled over, gasping for air as you stepped aside with a prideful smirk. “That convincing enough for you?” 

The rest of the team broke into laughter, the sexual and uncalled for tension that was in the room had gone.

“The Macbook needed to reboot there for a moment huh,” Jack said patting your shoulder. “You’ll do just fine, and your mission partner will be there as your backup, you can trust them 

Matty just pulled on that subtle smirk she wore when she knew something was bound to be entertaining. “Well, glad you’re working on your chemistry, because Mac is your mission partner. Try not to cause a scene before the target gets there, though. Wheels up in 2 hours.”

Mac had finally been able to gather himself and recover from the unexpected tap. “Let’s just hope you’re ready for 2 to be playing that game.”

A/N: Thank You guys for reading! I am thinking about making another part about the actual mission or what the aftermath would look like for your and Mac's relationship.

A/N: Remember I'm always open to talk to people (18+) about MacGyver! I love the fandom and want to interact as much as possible. If your interested don't be afraid to shoot me a message!

[redd956]

Whump Prompt List: NMA Edition

Based off of my NMA worldbuilding line

AKA Whump that @demondamage would like. AKA: nonhuman whumpees, experiment whump, medical whump, lab whump

CW: Violence, Hospital Whump, Experiment Whump, Nonhuman whumpees, Death Mention, Needles

Draining whumpee's blood in order to centrifuge a special resource from it

Hooking whumpee up to an IV that contains some form of sedative, paralytic, or similar formula inside of it

A physically powerful whumpee needing to be held down by a group, as a sedative is forcefully entered into their system

Whumpee watching their blood exit their veins through a tube, knowing theirs nothing they can do, slowly realizing that they're taking too much

Whumpee getting their blood drained, not knowing if their captors are going to stop before it's too late, or if they plan to get rid of whumpee this way after all

Filing down whumpee's sharp teeth, their pointed claws, sawing off their horns, tying down their tail. Whatever needs to be done to keep the nonhuman whumpee from having an advantage.

Whumpee being kept sedated or out of it, until they are needed for their magic

Muzzled and/or restrained whumpee lashing out at the doctors analyzing

Whumpee's every nonhuman aspect being analyzed, their privacy completely invaded, as doctors poke and prod, crooning over their find

A group of whumpees are captures, and they all fear the worse. However after one is found to be more rare than the others, they quickly discover that for one of them, it's going to be much much worse.

Multiple whumpees getting separated based off of the research that needs to be conducted on them

A limp whumpee, kept down for research, needing to be moved or treated as a comatose patient since the doctors dealing with them are too scared of their abilities

Testing to see what whumpee reacts painfully too, how they heal from the different things tested on them, watching them slowly grow terrified of the scientist opening their door

Taking a marker to whumpee's skin and going to town, preparing for the next set of plans

Forcing whumpee to use their magic or nonhuman abilities far past their limit

Whumpee growing more and more tired as they loose their magic/blood, watching the world darken and the noise of life muffle

Doctors taunting and teasing a heavily restrained whumpee. Whumpee, who is normally such a dangerous creature, can do nothing as they pull on their tail or forcibly spread out their wings

Hands latching onto whumpee's face, moving their head into the position they need to

Whumpee waking to the feeling of fingers prodding for the perfect injection spot

Strapping whumpee down to a table, the doctor admiring their work, thinking they'd never see a nonhuman of this type to work on

Whumpee being returned to a cell full of other nonhuman whumpees after a finish experiment, being plopped down unceremoniously in front of the others, before the doctor looks up to pick the next one

Tattooing whumpee to know what experiment group they belong to

Holding an oxygen mask to whumpee's face, watching as the mist of a sedative kicks in

[drdemonprince]

How do you feel about “weaponized incompetence”

I see a lot of people talking about it, and I know it can definitely be a thing that people do purposefully, but so many things that fall under the umbrella seem like things that some neurodivergent people tend to struggle with.

I don't think a person needs to be consciously or intentionally weaponizing incompetence in order to leverage it for their benefit. Due to forces like systemic sexism, sometimes a weaponized incompetence dynamic plays out without anybody meaning it to.

Now of course, weaponized incompetence is absolutely a dynamic that some people deliberately create (famously, a husband or boyfriend knowingly washing the dishes poorly so his partner never asks him to do it again), but more often than not, it's the byproduct of capitalist overwork and alienation meeting sexist norms that play out on an intuitive level rather than some malicious, evil plan.

My ex-partner absolutely benefitted from weaponized incompetence; he was also almost certainly an undiagnosed ADHDer who was struggling, and not a bad guy. From my perspective, it didn't matter. I still ended up having to pay the bills, sign us up for all the utilities, figure out a new place to live three different times when our rent went up, hire the movers, remind him to get a new ID when his old one was expired and we had a flight coming up, find him a dentist when his tooth was aching, help him write emails for his work when he first got a job, ask him to clean things rather than being able to trust he would contribute, make all the decisions regarding decluttering the house, take care of our pet, etc etc etc.

He deserved more help than he ever got, as a (very likely) disabled person living under capitalism. But I also covered him and shouldered his life burdens in a way that made me miserable and offloaded a lot of his responsibilities onto me. It drove me nuts and made me dysphoric to admit it, but a large part of how we wound up in that dynamic was systemic sexism, because he was a cishet man and I wasn't.

All that said, and my considerable real-life biases having been put on the table, I do think it's the case that many disabled people are unfairly accused of 'weaponizing incompetence' when all that they've done is express a limitation as clearly as they possibly could, which ought to be a good thing. There is nothing wrong or manipulative with asking for help, or for articulating what you are and are not capable of as honestly as you can. (And this honest communication piece was absent in the relationship I am describing; he wouldn't even acknowledge that he wasn't and could not contribute to maintaining a life together in any practical way. When I tried to name that dynamic, he would shut down, walk away, say things were going to change without any plan for how that might happen, etc).

In much the same way that an excited Autistic person who is infodumping or communicating super clearly in order to be helpful can be unfairly branded a "mansplainer", lots of disabled people are seen unfairly as manipulative, lying about their limitations, taking advantage of other people, lazy, and weaponizing incompetence.

The trope of the fake disabled person who is just gaming the system cuts deep. It's pervasive and it's responsible for a lot of social problems that disabled people face, from impossibly difficult benefits applications programs, to cruel teachers who refuse to provide the accommodations to which their students are entitled, to abusive and neglectful partners who fail to meet their disabled loved one's needs. Arguably I even was one of those partners, even if I did have genuine reasons for grievance and very real disabilities of my own.

The reality is that the lines between all these things can be blurred, as a person's intent and their impact can be wildly different. people who are doing their best can still leverage sexism and leave a partner feeling taken advantage of. And a partner who feels taken advantage of can have real reasons for feeling that way and can also still be ableist, or even cruel and unfair to their disabled loved one. it's tough.

Thanks for the great question, it is one I think about a lot for obvious reasons.

[gachafem]

"SWERF" is a stupid term

Radfems absolutely include sex workers in our feminism. I have no hate in my heart for them. I even advocate for laws that make them more safe and secure.

I hate the sex work industry. I hate how the johns that partake in it exploit women--especially those part of marginalized groups. I hate how women are raped, assaulted and degraded in this industry. I hate how the industry traps women in a cycle they have to go through hell to escape from, in order for them to survive and put food on the table.

We have seen and heard time and time again that the industry can not function without the physical, sexual, and emotional abuse of the women within it. Of course I would be against it, who wouldnt?

To imply that we are not feminist for not blindly supporting a system that takes advantage of vunerable women is stupid. Saying that we are somehow "excluding" sex workers from our feminism by wishing for a dismantling of the system that preys on them, and harms them, is stupid.

Advocating for an industry that continues to hurt women is the stupid thing, not the "SWERFS" against it.

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Business Dealings

There were definite advantages to being the ‘unknown’ Tracy, Virgil decided.

And in his opinion, the very best of these was the extra freedom he had over his brothers.

Virgil smiled at the attractive and attentive waitress who delivered his – decidedly unhealthy – lunch to his private booth, then rolled his shoulders, grinning to himself.

His brothers might have public success, a public profile, and receive some … interesting fan mail, that certainly enlivened quiet days on Tracy Island; but the price they paid for this recognition was, well, recognition.

It had gotten to the point that Jeff had mandated personal security for the four of his sons who had existed in the public eye. Virgil, however …

There was no way a bodyguard would have let him into this neighbourhood, let alone this dive of a diner – that made the world’s best burger and fries, hands down. And the looming gorillas in suits that were Tracy Industries personal protection specialists definitely discouraged the kind of ‘friendly’ service the waitress was giving him.

A gaggle of teenagers came bouncing into the diner, drawing away the waitress. Virgil watched bemusedly as one of the boys started teasing her.

He drowned a laugh in his milkshake, as she bapped one on the head with her notebook, reminding Virgil of Scott dealing with Gordon in one of his troublemaking moods.

Virgil ate as the waitress settled the group, and took their orders.

Once they had been served their food, she checked back in with him, and promptly fetched his requested coffee.

Then she sat herself at the table with the teens. “So what was all the noise about when you came in?”

“We’re celebrating!” came the chorus.

“Celebrating what?”

“Johnny got his photos back!” crowed the obvious sibling.

“And what photos are those, then?”

“Well, you know how that busted old factory over in Industrial East blewed itsself up?”

“It was kinda hard to miss. They’re still tryin’ to replace all the windows it broke, after two weeks.”

“Yeah, well, there was those two guys trapped, and they had ta get International Rescue to get ‘em out.”

“I know that.”

So did Virgil. It had been a nightmare rescue, and was a completely avoidable situation. Virgil was in town now as Tracy Industries representative; his father was buying the site, and the attached business. It had been a viable manufacturer, with a good product – the disaster had been caused by greedy management.

Jeff was trying to prevent an even bigger disaster – the collapse of a middle sized town. For all it was a ‘busted old factory’, it was a major employer in the region. The people deserved better.

The waitress continued, “Wish I’d been able to see them. Either the planes or the men. Pity I was stuck here.”

Little brother laughed. “Well, today’s your lucky day!”

Virgil froze. The boy hadn’t paid him any attention when he came in, he couldn’t have been there and recognised Virgil, could he?

His fingers strayed to his watch. Should he call his Father? Could he contain the situation here on his own?

“Cause Johnny here is a genius, and he thought to grab his camera. So here, today, is the first ever photographs of the …”

“THUNDERBIRDS!” the group shouted in unison, and broke out cheering.

Virgil started, slopping coffee onto himself, but now he had bigger worries. Brains was trialling a new technology in the ships, with a view to replacing the Photo Detectors, after the detection system had failed at that movie set, and Scott hadn’t reported activity of either system at debrief. Had the new technology disrupted the Detectors? Had the Photo Jammers worked?

The waitress noticed his mishap, and hurried over, napkins at the ready. “I’m so sorry, did you scald yourself? Can I get you a fresh cup?”

Virgil shook his head, accepting the wad of napkins. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I was in a world of my own and I got startled by the noise.” He smiled. “I’m not normally so jumpy.”

She smiled in return. “They were loud, but, please, don’t mind those idiots. They’re a little excitable.”

Virgil deposed of the dampened napkins – he was going to have to change his shirt, his father would kill him if he turned up at a business meeting with a giant coffee stain on his shirt, and turned back to the waitress. “Sounds like it. Was that the Thunderbirds they were shouting about?”

She glared back at the group. “Oh yes, we had a bit of excitement a couple of weeks back. International Rescue saved two guys from a factory fire across town. Johnny here reckons he got photographs of them.”

“Yeah! We were just gonna have our first look! You wanna see?” The teens where hanging over Virgil’s booth, grinning, and immensely pleased with themselves.

Virgil nodded. “I’d heard they had some kind of system to stop photos being taken,” he ventured as the kids piled in across from him.

“Yeah, well I shot these beauties, no problem,” boasted one boy. Virgil eyed him, worriedly, trying to see if he could recognise the boy, but couldn’t. Hopefully the fact that Virgil had spent the whole time in his fire-suit would mean the boy couldn’t recognise him.

Apparently there was nothing about Virgil that rang any bells in ‘Johnnys’ memories; either that, or he was too focused on his moment of glory. “You’re lucky, mista,” the boy continued. “‘Cus the rest of the world is gonna hafta pay to see these!” He grinned. “And pay big! Hell, I might even buy myself an island, like that astronaut weirdo!”

There was laughter and catcalls at this pronouncement, and Virgil carefully swallowed his reaction. He gestured to the envelope. “Well, before you call the realtors, better check the goods.”

There were enthusiastic cries of encouragement, and the envelope was opened with a care that amused Virgil. Johnny couldn’t have been more careful if he had been handling the Mona Lisa.

The first two photographs were blurry generic landscapes, then a series of five less blurry images of bared backsides hanging out of a car’s windows at traffic lights. Virgil picked one up, and examined it briefly, before it was snatched out of his hand by a red-faced boy. Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, “One of his models, I take it?”

The boy flushed even brighter red, as the waitress laughed.

“No!” That was Johnny, staring, bug eyed at the top photo in his hand. Virgil craned his neck. A blurry, staticky mess of grey tones filled the centre of the image framed by the clear, focused image of the fire ravaged factory building.

The group fell silent.

The image was discarded in favour of the next in the stack. “No!”

The next. “No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

All the way down the stack. Every image had the same distortion, sometimes in the centre, sometimes there were smaller, multiple areas of distortion.

Virgil could tell what the boy had been trying to photograph by the relative sizes and positions. Thunderbird One. Thunderbird Two. Both Thunderbirds. Thunderbird Two on her struts. Thunderbird Two with her module open. The Diceltalyne Ladder truck ….

If it International Rescue had it on site, Johnny had tried to photograph it. Including, Virgil noted, himself and his brothers. Those zoomed in shots with the four small blurs could only be an attempt to photograph people.

Virgil was impressed. Kid clearly had some quality gear.

When Virgil said as much, Johnny roused himself enough to offer a slight proud grin. “Yeah, my uncle gave it to me, he’s a professional photographer and upgraded. I got his old stuff.” The boy wilted again. “Not that it did me much good,” he mumbled, staring at the blurry images.

Virgil smiled wryly. “International Rescue are pretty adamant about the no photographs thing,” he reminded the boy. “Looks like I heard right about their anti-photography kit.”

Johnny sighed. “Yeah.” He shuffled the photographs back into a stack, before glancing around the room. “There goes my private island,” he sighed. “Oh well.”

Virgil took the stack from him, and perused through it again. Johnny looked utterly miserable, and the rest of the gang was equally morose.

Virgil came to a decision. “You get these developed in town here?” he asked.

Johnny nodded. “Yeah, drugstore down on First does photos.”

Virgil slid out the ‘International Rescue’ photos into their own pile. “They do enlargements, say A4 size?”

Johnny frowned. “Yeah. Why do you want to know?”

“What’s he charge?”

There was a muttered argument across the table, and the waitress watched him warily. Johnny offered up a price. Virgil suppressed a smirk. Kid was damn good, price was high, but not so high as to be implausible.

He did a quick spot of mental arithmetic. Then reconsidered, before sliding one of the traffic stop images onto the International Rescue pile, and pulled out his wallet, before counting out a number of notes on the pile, before pushing it towards Johnny.

“I’ll be back here this time tomorrow,” he said. “Think you can be here with A4 copies of all these?”

The boy gaped at the cash. “Uh, yeah. I guess so. Why?”

Virgil tapped the cash. “If you are, you get the same amount again. That should keep you in film, and out of trouble for a while.”

The boy stared. “But … but you can’t see anything. They’re all blurry.”

Virgil nodded. “Yep. But I know a lot of guys interested in International Rescue. These …” he gestured at the photos. “Will drive them nuts.” He grinned at the boy.

Who grinned back.

The waitress looked at Virgil suspiciously. “And the, uh, ass picture?”

Virgil grinned. “I took some similar photos, when I first got a camera, about Johnny’s age,” he admitted. “My Grandma found them, and tore them up, and then tore strips off me.” He shrugged, sheepishly. “Figured it’d be nice to have something to remind me of the out night I had with my friends. ‘Cause we had a lot of fun.”

As the boys hooted in glee, and high-fived each other, the waitress stared at Virgil, before softening. “Boys,” she snorted.

Virgil shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”

The next day, Virgil wandered into the diner, and was surprised to find Johnny already waiting for him, shifting from foot to foot, anxiously.

Virgil slid into the booth he had occupied the previous day, and Johnny followed him, clutching a large envelope to his chest.

The waitress wandered over, and took Virgil’s order. She looked at Johnny. Virgil followed her gaze. “If you’re eating, I’m paying,” he said.

Johnny shook his head. “Nah,” he mumbled, not meeting Virgil’s eyes. Virgil frowned, and glanced at the waitress in askance. She shrugged, before wandering off.

“What’s up? Problem with the pictures?”

The boy shrugged. “Kinda.”

Virgil stared. “What’s the problem? Couldn’t get them all printed?”

Johnny mumbled at the tabletop. “I didn’t think about it. I just … took the photos. I didn’t think about what could happen.”

Virgil frowned. “What could happen?” he echoed.

“They say no photos. They say they have to stay secret. I didn’t think …”

Virgil got it. “You’re worried that someone might be able to unscramble these pictures, and then they’ll stop working. You’re worried about the people who might die if that happens, people who’ll die because of photos you took.”

Johnny stared at him. “Yeah, how’d you …?”

Virgil shrugged. “Because I’d worry about the same thing, if I were in your place.”

“So why’d …”

“Why’d I offer to buy the photos?” Virgil glanced around, checking for anybody listening. “Because International Rescue saved two of my friends. And my dad.”

The boy stared.

Virgil sighed, and pulled out his wallet, digging into a hidden section, he pulled out a folded up newspaper clipping. He opened it up, and pushed it across the table to Johnny.

He picked it up, and read the article.

He frowned, and read it again.

Then stared at Virgil.

“Th-this says that they saved … J-jeff …”

Virgil nodded. “Yup.”

“Your dad’s one of his advisors?” The boy was practically begging Virgil to agree.

Virgil shook his head. “Nope. His advisors are my friends.”

“Y-y-you’re …”

Virgil took pity on him. “I’m Jeff Tracy’s son. Well, one of them. He asked me to come and oversee the purchase of that ‘busted old factory’.”

The boy stared. “Why?”

“It was a good business. The problem was with the managers, not the product, not the production. And without that factory, this town dies.”

Johnny stared at him.

Virgil took back his newspaper clipping as the waitress put down his order. Virgil chewed down a dozen fries and drank a good half of his coffee while he waited for Johnny to regather his wits.

Eventually his companion spoke. “Your dad’s like mega-rich.”

“Yup.”

“He has all sorts of people working for him.”

“Yup.”

“I give you these photos,” Johnny tapped the envelope, “you give them to him.”

Virgil shrugged. “That was the plan.”

“And he gives them to some hotshot photograph technician who unscrambles the images …”

“Wrong.”

Johnny stared at him.

“Most of my training is as an engineer, but I really love art. I’ve done a few – more than a few – photography courses. The kind of mess you’ve got there,” Virgil indicated the envelopes, “is some kind of electronic – maybe even x-ray – emission messing up the film. Unless you know the frequencies, it’d take oh, I don’t know, a hundred people a million years to unscramble those images.”

The boy blinked.

“And you’d need the negatives,” Virgil added, deciding this his burger had been neglected for long enough, and took a bite, watching as Johnny thought it through.

Johnny frowned. “You’d really need the negatives?”

Virgil nodded, his mouth full of – really delicious – burger.

Johnny nodded thoughtfully. “I remember my uncle saying that you need the original negatives to do proper forensic analysis of a photograph. That’s why a photographer should never let go of his negatives.”

Virgil nodded again, taking another bite. Damn, he was gonna miss this place when he left. Grandma and Kyrano were fantastic cooks, but a proper greasy diner burger was hard to beat.

He finished the burger before Johnny moved again. Evidently the boy had come to some kind of decision, because he pulled out a negatives folder, and slid the ashtray into the centre of the table. “You got a light?” he asked as he dumped the negatives into ashtray.

Virgil frowned. “You not gonna save the rest of your negatives?”

Johnny shook his head. “They’re blurry as all hell, and useless, no point.”

Virgil eyed him, but the teen was resolute. Virgil shrugged. “Well, if you’re sure,” he pulled out his cigarette lighter, a cheap disposable thing that frustrated his father and brothers, but suited Virgil fine. He pulled it back, when Johnny reached for it. “Not inside,” he said firmly. “Film burns fast, and film burns hot. You do not want to do this inside.”

They went outside, Virgil borrowing a broom from the bemused waitress to sweep clear a large patch of asphalt as far from the diner and anything flammable as he could get. At his gesture, Johnny put the negatives down, weighed against the breeze by a small piece of wood, as Virgil wrapped a scrap of cleaning cloth around one end of a long stick.

When Johnny was ready, Virgil used his lighter to light the cloth, and handed the stick to Johnny. “Arm and stick length,” he commanded. “Stay up wind.”

As Virgil had known it would, the film burst into enthusiastic and hot flame the second the lit stick touched it. Johnny jumped, and dropped the stick, swearing.

The fire didn’t last for long, and Virgil picked up the stick stamping down on the charred end to put out the residual flame, before using it to poke at the pathetic ashes in front of them.

Johnny stared, bug eyed again as Virgil poked the ashes, and pushed the pathetic scraps of film into the melted asphalt, sealing them away forever.

Virgil glanced at him. “You okay?”

Johnny nodded. “Yeah. I just never … damn, that was … scary.”

Virgil shrugged. But he did remember the first time he had tried burning film … He’d had a hang of a time explaining how the bathroom basin had gotten cracked through. Who’d have thought you could crack porcelain with a couple of strips of photographic film? Not fourteen-year-old Virgil Tracy.

They went back into the diner, and Virgil ordered milkshakes. Johnny slurped his as Virgil examined his new purchases. He grinned. Brains would be pleased that his new photo jammers worked beautifully, and against some high-grade kit. Johnny had been coaxed into describing the equipment his uncle had given him, and it was better than a lot of the professional paparazzi had hanging from their necks.

Virgil’s grin widened as he got the bottom of the stack. Oh, memory. His backside burned with the memory of his grandmother’s ire, but he owed Gordon, and he owed Gordon big. This would do nicely.

Let’s see him ‘paint’ with his butt on Virgil’s good canvases after Grandma had thrashed him for having this.

Virgil was on a high as he left the diner for the last time; Johnny practically skipping off, his stomach and wallet full, and conscience clean.

International Rescue: Protected.

Payback for Gordon: Secured.

It was just the Tracy Industries deal left to finalise, and he’d have a clean sweep.

It was a good day.

Notes:

I sat down to write a completely different story, and this happened.

One day I may get to write the story I intended to write, but for now …

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

CGS System

The centimeter-gram-second, or CGS, unit system is a variant of the metric system with the aforementioned units as the base units. (As opposed to the meter and the kilogram with SI units.) On a surface level, this unit system is SI units, simply at a different order of magnitude, and has been replaced by the SI system in most fields. However, where the CGS system really differs is in the study of electromagnetism, where it is still in use today.

In SI units, additional base units are defined, including the ampere. However, in the CGS system, the units used for current are derived units (typically called electrostatic units [esu]), with no new base units defined. Because the ampere is not related to other units (length, time, mass, etc.), a constant is needed to relate it to other units. In the CGS system, this is not the case. As such, conversions between the two systems can be complicated.

One advantage of the CGS system, and one reason it is still used today, is that electric and magnetic fields have the same unit, simplifying some calculations.

Sources/Further Reading: (Table source - Wikipedia) (RPI Electromagnetic Theory) (Wolfram) (LibreTexts) (Uni-Kiel)

[lacklusterhero747]

Sic Semper Tyrannis

In my experience, just as many TTRPG campaigns focus on war and conflict against the powers that be as focus on exploring the wild and untamed places of the world. From stories of the companions of The Inn of the Last Home in Dragonlance to the punk rock rebels and Anarchists of Shadowrun, many times the motivating force of the story is the direct fight for survival in a world that is hostile to the very people and heroes that inhabit it. It's a well tread set of story tropes that offer clearly defined goals and villains and in built sense of drama, so it's understandable why so many stories would choose to focus on these themes.

And sometimes, if you're lucky, you get to fight those battles from the cockpit of a giant robot.

Armour Astir: Advent is a high-fantasy roleplaying game about striking back against an authority that seeks to control you. It is a game of rival pilots clashing in steel-clad Astirs, of soldiers holding their own against the odds, and of spies and diplomats twisting the world to their ends. It is not a game of careful preparation or pleasant truces; It's hard to change the world without taking a risk.

I first became aware of this game because of the excellent podcast Friends at the Table, when they played the game as part of their Road to Palisade series of games, leading up to the third season of their ongoing Divine Cycle of games. Immediately I was taken by the combination of high fantasy magic merged with the classic tropes of mecha anime that were apparent in the game as written, even if the cast was hacking the material to make fit into their more futuristic world they had built.

I felt compelled to track it down to read it for myself.

Inside the PDF, written by Briar Sovereign, I found a love letter to the Mecha Genre, drawing inspiration from such luminary series as Mobile Suit Gundam and Escaflowne, putting you in the cockpit of giant suits of armor as you stride across the battlefields of a war against an evil power. But like the series it draws heavily from, it does so with a distinct focus on the pilots inside their Astirs, rather than just focusing on the mecha and the carnage they can bring. This is a game with stakes and in interest in the relationships between people. It's a game that, as the intro to this latest season of Friends at the Table puts it, is about Empire, Revolution, Settler Colonialism, Politics, Religion, War, and the many consequences there of.

Running off of a modified version of the Powered by the Apocalypse system, Armour Astir is built on already accessible system with a distinct interest in narrative storytelling. You work together with your group to define your Authority--the oppressive power that the group of players are fighting back against--and your Cause--the group that backs and hands orders down to the player characters--and build a world around these two groups and their seemingly irreconcilable differences. From there, the players build their characters from the available playbooks--The Arcanist, The Imposter, The Paradigm, The Witch, The Captain, The Diplomat, The Artificer, and The Scout--and collectively define the Carrier--their White Base or their Normandy--from which they launch their sorties against the Authority and where they spend their downtime between missions. It's an elegant way to frame a world in conflict, and once again as I will always point out, it's a game interested in the collective construction of the world in which you're going to play, thereby creating a sense of player buy in from the jump.

Still, even as a PbtA game, AA:A still manages to bring its own novel concepts to the table.

Presumably drawing inspiration from 5e D&D, the game introduces the concept of Advantage and Disadvantage to the system. Where normally you would roll 2d6+Stat in a PbtA game, hoping to roll a 10+ and succeed without a cost, Advantage and Disadvantage allow you to roll more dice, keeping a number according to their respective rules. And they stack! If you find your self with 2 advantages, for instance, then you would roll 4d6 and keep the best 2. Or if you had 2 advantages and 1 disadvantage, you would roll 3d6 and still keep the best two as advantage outnumbers disadvantage. The only caveat is that you can never roll more than 4 dice for a move.

Then there's the idea of acting with Confidence or Desperation. Certain moves, approaches, and situations can cause you to act with either of this conditions, and they fundamentally change how the dice are read. If you're acting with Confidence in a scene, any 1 you roll on a d6 is instead treated as a 6, while acting in Desperation makes any 6 you roll instead be treated as a 1.

These two rules alone could be enough for me to really consider the game an evolution of PbtA, as using the mechanics together allows you to deeply calibrate the odds of success or failure of a given move to really match the fiction of the story your telling, but the interesting ideas don't stop there.

The game asks you to define your character by a set of Hooks, which are short phrases that define how your character acts and thinks about the world and the people around them. They're guide posts for the player, reminding them what their character is about, but they're also guide posts for the GM and for the other players. They show what kinds of situations you care about and want to be drawn into, and they can be rewritten as needed, and deepened or loosened by various rules interactions that make the hooks easier or harder to change in play. Hooks can even be sacrificed permanently, crossed off your sheet forever and buying you a new advancement for your character and the ability act immediately with Confidence as your character commits themselves to the fight and how the war has changed them.

Meanwhile, the concept of Gravity Clocks, presents an incredibly dynamic way to represent the relationships between characters. Representing the attachments you have with people and groups, these clocks are countdowns to when a relationship might be challenged, confronted, or addressed. They can be one-sided, or they can be shared between two characters, and evoked to add numerical bonuses to rolls, the clock ticking forward every time it gets used in this manner. And when the six step clock fills up, the game asks you to Redefine, Commit, or Abandon the gravity between you and the subject of the clock. Each option presents its own ramifications, in addition to allowing you to take a new advancement for your character, and I could gush about them in detail for hundreds of words more, but I think it's better to simply let the game speak for itself if you choose to read it.

Finally, and perhaps most interestingly to me, is the concept of The Conflict Turn. Played out between Sorties by the player characters at the Carrier level, the Conflict turn is meant to zoom out and show the greater context of the conflict. Here players direct the broader course of the struggle by playing out Conflict Scenes, directing challenges at one another through role-played scenes, reminiscent of Mobile Frame Zero: Firebrands by D. Vincent Baker. It allows you to shape the course of the war and the world at a truly macro scale, and depict scenes and conflicts that might otherwise get lost in a narrow focused game about a single group of pilots on a single carrier, acting on a single front in the war. It invites players to step back and look at the whole picture and really think about what two deadlocked factions can do or must do in order to win a broader conflict. And what the consequences of those actions might be.

All in all, Armour Astir is a fascinating game that takes Powered by the Apocalypse in new and interesting directions. It offers novel new mechanical concepts to the system, while also featuring the familiar Playbook driven structure. The party's Carrier and their Astirs feature a refreshing amount of build it yourself by hand customization, and the freedom to craft your own world with a conflict you and your players will care about really makes the game shine in my opinion. Not to mention it's in built focus on both the micro and macro scale aspects of the greater conflict, each in their own time, without getting so lost in the weeds of spreadsheet style attention to detail of other mecha focused games like Lancer or Battletech.

If you've ever wanted to suit up in a giant robot and take the fight to the enemy, Armour Astir: Advent is an excellent option to fulfill that narrative fantasy.

[inkichan]

First thing first · kana

(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ essential

It is a must, before you begin your journey in studying japanese, to be fully able to read, understand and write hiragana and katakana.

In my post I would hardly use romanji, since I think they're counterproductive. Even though my blog is beginner friendly (as myself!) I think it's essential to know how to read and write these two alphabets.

What is kana

Kana is essentially the Japanese alphabet. Each kana character represents one syllable. There are two sets of kana, which means there are two different Japanese scripts based on syllabaries: hiragana (ひらがな) and katakana (カタカナ). Both hiragana and katakana were originally derived from kanji characters. Hiragana and katakana are literally the ABCs of Japanese. They're the most basic types of Japanese characters and essential parts of the Japanese language. Learning these two types of characters is often the very first step to learning Japanese, too.

Why not romanji?

Romanization can indeed make one's learning process less effective. When you rely heavily on romanji, your brain tends to lean on the Latin alphabet that you're already familiar with, potentially hindering your ability to fully grasp hiragana and katakana. That's why I encourage minimizing the use of romanji in your studies, except when it's absolutely necessary. Making a conscious effort to read and engage with kana is a more fruitful approach.

Hiragana

Hiragana is the first writing system learned by Japanese children, and thus is often the recommended system for non-Japanese to learn first, as well. 

Katakana

Katakana may not be used as extensively as hiragana, but it provides an interesting advantage to English speakers. Gairaigo (外来語), or borrowed words, is primarily written in katakana so katakana characters are mainly used to write foreign names, corporate branding, western loanwords and onomatopoeic words.

Free resources

JOSHU - interactive tables, stroke order, audio, flashcards, practice sheets, practice quizzes.

Japanese Pod 101 - Kana eBook, video lesson (try 10 Days Hiragana Challenge and 10 Days Katakana Challenge) plus Learn Hiragana in 1 hour and Learn Katakana in 1 hour

Tofugu - I really reccomend check this article out, becaus it's a more in depth article with tons of other possible useful resoures!

App - there are several apps for iOS/Android, such as: Dr. Moku, Hiragana/Katakana Memory Hint, Write it! Japanese (and many more...)

Writing and Reading practice - I personally recommend this video from this playlist (also useful) for the reading practice and this one for the writing.

The Best Method?

There isn't, in fact, a "best method" to learn kana. As every other thing, you need to learn at your own pace and with the method that best suits you. My method was just writing kana endlessly and repetition, trying to hear words and write them and/or read them (as the last point of the free resources). But everyone is different, so I recommend to try different methods out! Don't hesitate to ask question, recommend other resources or simply interact!

またね～@inkichan

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

[justanotherstarlightmonger]

I'm not lying - JJK

Summary: Your relationship with Jungkook isn't the healthiest, to be precise.

Warnings: Jeon Jungkook has anger issues, and trust issues. Toxic relationship. Attachment issues. This really do be one unhealthy ass relationship.

Disclaimer: I love jk to bits, this is just a work of fiction.

Word count: 3k words

Beta read by @bebejungkook. Thank you Che babe 😘

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You unlocked your front door, tiptoeing into the hallway, half way relieved at the vacant living room. Hopefully Jungkook wasn’t back yet. Although it was nearly 6 pm, and Jungkook was usually home by 4 nowadays, given that his new lecture schedule was an early one.

Tripping over your feet, you hurried to the kitchen, planning to take advantage of this opportunity and get dinner ready before he inevitably came home. But the same moment, you heard the security system beep and the door unlocked.

Shit.

You turned to see Jungkook toeing off his shoes and slipping into his slippers before he raised his gaze and saw you standing in the kitchen door, regarding him with an unsure look.

“Did you just get back?” he asked you. Was it a no greetings kind of day? Was he mad about something?

“Um... yeah. We went to get dessert and were talking and I didn’t realize how long it had been. I’m sorry.” you clarified.

You had met Maria for lunch after so long. And yes, you had told Jungkook that you were going to meet her today, but you had also told him you’d be home early. What he absolutely didn’t need to know was that both of you had run into another old classfellow, Seojun and had spent a good part of the afternoon laughing and catching up with him. Seojun had even offered to drop you off home, something that you’d been quick to reject, knowing full well the way your boyfriend acted the moment any man looked at you. You had unfortunately, failed to convince both your friends that you weren’t active on any social media, when finally Seojun had succeeded to get your phone number, “For old times’ sakes.” he had winked. But Jungkook didn’t need to know any of that.

Jungkook shrugged, “No dinner?”

His words stung your heart. The Jungkook you had fallen in love with, had been enthusiastic to know every single detail about your days. He would greet you with a shower of love and affection when he came home. Now all he cared about was whether there would be dinner on the table, regardless of the day you had spent. Especially when you remembered nights when both of you were half drunk, laughing in the kitchen, and burning the food you had thought of cooking so bad, that he simply convinced you to go to bed and forgo dinner and when you had resisted, insisting that he had to eat something, he had wordlessly lifted you clean off your feet bridal style and taken you to bed where you hadn’t fallen asleep till the wee hours of the morning.

You shook your head, “I’ll whip something up in a bit. Are you really very hungry or can I take a shower first?”

Jungkook had collapsed on the couch by then, his eyes not meeting yours, instead scanning his phone. When had he started being so indifferent to you?

“I am hungry, but you should get changed first.”

Wow. Why had you expected that he would offer to order something?

Shaking your head at your own pathetic self, you made your way to the bedroom, leaving a mumbled “I’ll only be five minutes” over your shoulder at your boyfriend who probably hadn’t even heard.

Jungkook made his way into the bedroom the moment he heard the bathroom door close behind you. He was undressing from his work clothes when your phone, which lay on the bed, dinged with a text. He didn’t think much of it, he knew Maria had a habit of asking her friends if they got home safely. It was probably her.

It was when two more dings followed in quick succession that his interest was tickled. Who could be texting you? He leaned back to look at the screen and saw it was a number that wasn’t saved.

Interesting. Now Jungkook was really intrigued.

Biting his lip thoughtfully, he entered your password and unlocked the phone. Of course he knew your password, he knew the password to everything you owned that had a password. It was a given, he was your boyfriend after all, he deserved that much common decency.

(unknown number); Hey it’s Seojun!

(unknown number): Did you get home safe?

(unknown number): I had a great time today, let’s catch up more often :)

Jungkook’s fist clenched.

WHO

THE

FUCK

WAS

TEXTING

HIS

GIRL?

HIS GIRL!

And were you a willing participant of these interactions? The texts made it seem like you were... Were you cheating on him? When you knew how much he loved you? He felt ugly anger stewing in the pits of his stomach.

He heard the water in the shower stop, and quickly locked the phone, tossing it back on the bed and continued changing his clothes.

You stepped out, hair still damp because you didn’t want to spend more time than necessary drying it when Jungkook was clearly waiting for you to cook him something. He was in the room, his back turned to you. He had probably just pulled on his loose tshirt because even from the back you could see how fluffed up his hair was.

Running your fingers through his gorgeous silky hair was your guilty pleasure and your heart yearned to thread your fingers through it like it was right now. All fluffed up and bouncy. But since he refused to acknowledge your presence, you made your way out, back to the kitchen, begrudgingly pulling out the cutting board and starting to chop some shallots and garlic.

Jungkook had followed you. He stood in the doorway, eyeing you suspiciously. How were you so calm after betraying him like this? How many times had you been out and about with other guys while he slaved away with his classes. Were you even studying or were you just spending your days with such “friends”. Yeah, he knew what you’d say when he confronted you. ‘He’s just a friend Jungkook.’ he could practically hear your voice utter those cursed words. And here he had thought you were so very busy with studying into the late hours of the night. Was he that blind? Well, clearly he was since you had gathered the courage to blind side him like that.

You were acutely aware of the heated glare on your side profile as Jungkook stood in the door. What was he so mad about? Yes, you had been a little late coming home, but you had practically been living at the library the past couple of weeks, and he hadn’t seemed to mind that. Was it Maria? Did he suddenly have an issue with your oldest friend? Because if he had, he’d just have to suck it up. You looked up at him, raising a brow.

“Is everything okay Koo?” you even used his nickname, to soften whatever this new hard exterior was. You craved him. His love, his attention, his devotion to you. You missed his smiles, his giggles into your hair as you both watched movies, his strong arms engulfing you whenever he hugged you. Where was that boy? Did he not love you anymore? Why wouldn’t he say it like that and just ease matters for both of you.

“Who’s Seojun?” his tone was straight up accusatory.

“What?” your hands paused, and you looked straight at him. How had he found out?

“You heard me.” he said coolly, tilting his head.

“He’s an old class fellow.” you feigned nonchalance. Two could play at that game. Your heart that was thudding behind your ribs, didn’t agree.

“And why of all days, is he texting you today?”

Would it be okay if he texted me another day? you thought bitterly, before realizing what he’d said. The idiot had texted you? Oh God, you were in for it now.

“We happened to run into him while getting ice cream today and we exchanged numbers.” Honesty was the best policy right?

“I suggest you don’t lie to me y/n...” he said, his words measured, his tone cold.

A chill ran up your spine.

“I’m not lying.”

“But you are.” he took a few steps forward, holding his hand up for you to take. You placed a hand in his, painfully aware to the tremor in your own. Were you scared of him? No.

He couldn’t hurt you. You steeled your nerves. Yes, Jungkook was a little possessive, but he never hurt you.

But he had never gone through your phone like this ever, either. Your subconscious screamed at you that there was first time for everything.

“I’m not.” you said.

He dropped your hand, clutching his own hair. “You’re looking me dead in the eye and lying through your teeth for another man?” he said a bit too loud.

“J-jun...”

“Try again, y/n. Tell me the truth.” he approached you again, snaking his arms around your waist. “I won’t be mad baby.”

Tears pricked your eyes. Weeks of no affection and he’d finally called you baby while accusing you of something heinous. What was going on?

You raised a hand to cup his precious cheek, “I’m not... Kookie, I’m really not lying to you.” you whispered.

He smacked your hand away before it reached his face. “Then why are you crying? Why are you crying if you’re not guilty?” he said, so sharp that you felt his words had pierced straight through the dam of emotions and want that had been bubbling inside you.

“I’m crying because you’ve been ignoring me for weeks. You’ve barely talked to me all this time, hell you haven’t even called me by name, much less any nicknames and...”

“And so you’re going around with other men to compensate for my lack of attention?!” he cut you off, jumping to the conclusion abruptly. Then again, the tiny voice in your head told you he probably already had that conclusion in there somewhere.

You gasped, offended beyond belief. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

Where Jungkook’s voice was rising with every sentence, yours was getting lower, being buried under the unfathomable revelations that you were having, about just exactly how much this man who claimed to love you, trusted you.

“I don’t think so, I KNOW SO GODDAMMIT” he screamed, turning around and slamming a fist into the wall, with force that made you wince and tears finally fall past your lashes.

You saw a tinge of red as he withdrew his hand, your heart aching at the thought of him hurt. You were quick to forgo the fear that froze you in place at that moment, and stepped closer to him, “Please.” you cried as you took his bleeding hand in your own, “Just listen to me please.” your tears fell onto his split knuckles.

“Don’t touch me.” he said, teeth clenched.

Disregarding that completely, you raised his hand to your mouth, kissing the distressed wounds. Why was he reacting this way? This was what you had been scared of. Terrified of.

“Just let me explain.” you pleaded again.

“What’s there to listen to y/n?” he whispered hoarsely, his voice giving way as tears of hurt formed in his eyes. His beautiful doe eyes that you loved so much it physically hurt. How could he doubt you like this?

“Jungkookie, please believe me. Me and Maria were getting ice cream and he recognized us and came over to say hi.”

He shook his head. Everything he was doing to deny your truthfulness was just breaking your heart into tinier pieces.

“You don’t believe me?” you asked.

“No.” his statement left nothing to the imagination.

All breath left you. “Do you even love me?”

Jungkook withdrew his hand as if you had stung him and not just kissed his bloody knuckles with nothing but love. “So now he has you questioning my love for you?” he hollered.

You winced, following him into the living room, all thoughts of dinner abandoned. “He’s not making me question shit, Jungkook it’s you who’s making me question everything you once told me about us.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like we’re perfect for each other. Like I was made for your love and that you’d never make me cry. I don’t know if you’ve gone blind or your heart had turned to stone Jeon Jungkook but I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night for the past God knows how many nights!”

Jungkook shook his head, in clear denial of the fact. He took three steps to get to you, your body wound up tight as a spring. The look in his eye gave you plenty to be scared of now.

“Don’t touch me.” you warned him.

Completely disregarding your words, he gripped you by the shoulders, “That’s not my fault baby. That’s your conscience reminding you what you’re doing to me is wrong.” he shook you hard.

Your body went limp and your eyes widened. Not only had he blatantly disregarded your non-consent to touch you, he had been aggressive and spoken nothing but delusional bullshit. Something clicked into place.

“Let go, Jungkook.” you said, coldly.

You registered the shock flash across his face at the way you said it. Reluctantly he unhanded you and you quietly made your way over to the bedroom.

He was quick to follow, eyes widening in registration of the duffel bag you were stuffing your pajamas in.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he sounded panicked.

“I’m going to spend the night at Maria’s.” you stated, “I can’t be under the same roof as you right now.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You whipped around and poked a firm finger into his chest. “Yes, I am Jungkook. And you can’t stop me. You’ve done enough damage as is.” you announced before going to the bathroom to get your toothbrush.

“No... no y/n-ie. Please stop, please don’t go. I’m sorry.” he came to you, standing in the door, blocking the exit.

You looked up at him. His lips were trembling. Did he really have the audacity to cry now? After he had hurt you in all ways? “Move.”

“No, I won’t. Please don’t go. Please?”

This compassion that he expected from you, why hadn’t he extended it to you when you had been the one crying and begging for understanding? You were hurt, so hurt by all the poison he had spit over the course of the evening. All the abandonment you had felt for so long came crashing back on your shoulders, as tears streamed down your face and you pushed against his strong, firm frame.

Jungkook couldn’t believe this. You were running away from him. YOU were running away from HIM? What sorcery was at play here? He bent his knees and gently lifted you clean off your feet.

Fear settled into your whole body, “Put me down.”

Jungkook shook his head stubbornly. He lowered you onto the bed, a strange, sick determination in his eyes. “J-jungkook...don’t” your voice shook towards the end. You raised two shaking hands to push against his chest again, as you tried to sit up, but he held you down. And then he was straddling your hips, tears streaming down his own cheeks as a whimper of fear left you. He wasn’t in his right mind, you were sure of it, but even that didn’t warrant what you thought he was about to do.

“Please don’t hurt me, Jungkookie, please.” your whispers were broken by sobs that now racked your frame under him.

What was he doing? How would he ever forgive himself?

Jungkook stared right into your eyes, and wiped away your tears, hurt by the fact that you shied away from his hand. “I’m not gonna hurt you baby. I’d never hurt you, my love.” He bent down, kissing your forehead.

You were crying so hard by now, that you had to gasp for air. His firm body on yours and the icy contrast of his tender lips against your burning forehead was too much.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered against your frown.

So now he wanted consent?

But you craved comfort so much that you were willing to forgo this. You wanted him to hold you and tell you he was sorry, better yet, that this was all a nightmare. You nodded wordlessly.

He wasted no more time to press his lips on yours. “My baby,” he murmured against you, “I love you, I love you so much, you believe me right?”

You nodded. You loved him too. So very much. Everything that had happened had broken your heart because it had been Jungkook, you had sworn not to hurt each other, but he had. Unknowingly albeit, but he had.

“I love you too bunny. I love you so much.” you mirrored his words, scanning his eyes and holding onto him tightly to get the fact across that you were speaking nothing but the truth. “It’s only you for me. It’s only you, Jungkook.”

He nodded, falling off you onto the pillows. He pulled you into his chest, as if scared that if he’d loosen his grip for a moment, you’d disappear. “Please never leave me y/n.” he said into your hair.

The evening wasn’t forgiven. The wounds on your heart were still fresh and bleeding, but you caressed his bruised hand absentmindedly, still in shock of all that happened. “Please just trust me Koo.” you said, equally as soft, bringing his hand up to reaffirm the kisses you had placed on his knuckles earlier.

He returned his hand to it’s previous home around your waist, holding you silently. The last thing you heard before you allowed your swollen, burning eyes to succumb to sleep was, “I do trust you, love. It’s them I don’t trust.”

You went to sleep without having dinner that night.

[midnight-glasses]

Thank you ♥

My request is:

TWTW

Tsukinami brothers x Yui Punishment Headcanons (poly or separate)

She tried to run away from them

Hello again dear, feel welcome! Your wish is an order~

DISCLAIMER:

I always feel compelled to issue disclaimers when I make any content that is even minimally problematic.

This is a tricky post to make, mainly because it deals with many things that can and will cause discomfort, this request came up very close to the period where I felt like writing distressing material, I think this little narrative chooses mainly focusing on Yui, Shin and Carla's emotions and inner thoughts when such situations are played against them.

Let's remind everyone that this post is not intended to be something conventional and much less to portray healthy firm relationships, this is something quite obvious, but just saying: if you are kidnapped or held against your will, do not fall in love with your captor, run and call the police.

TRIGGERS:

Degradation;

Emotional dependency;

Emotional manipulation

False imprisonment;

Implicit stockholm syndrome;

Kidnapping;

Obsession;

Physical aggression;

Possessive behavior;

Torture;

Verbal humiliation;

Unhealthy mindset;

Unhealthy relationship;

Collective punishments:

“Your attempts to escape us are futile. We will always find you and bring you back! Your affront has earned you a punishment that will not only teach you a lesson, but also remind you of your place in this world.”

Carla and Shin are extremely displeased when they find out that Yui has tried to run away from them. They see this as a betrayal of their trust and an insult to their authority.

They track Yui down and bring her back to the mansion. Yui is punished for her disobedience and made to understand the consequences of her actions,

Shin suggests locking her in a cell, a suggestion that Carla supports.

The brothers often work in tandem, using both physical and psychological torture to wear Yui down. They take turns punishing her, each bringing their own unique style to the table.

Carla is especially cruel, using his knowledge to prolong Yui's suffering. He relishes in her pain and often takes pleasure in watching her squirm.

Yui is tied up and blindfolded as they punish her, they take turns striking her with a whip, causing her pain and leaving bruises on her skin.

They tell her that she will never escape from them and that she belongs to them now.

Shin, while not as sadistic as Carla, is no less cruel. He knows how to push Yui's buttons and often uses her insecurities against her in order to break her down.

Carla is more sadistic and enjoys prolonging the agony of his victims, while Shin is more hotheaded and prefers to attack directly.

The brothers continue to monitor Yui closely, making sure that she doesn't try to run away again.

They keep her under constant surveillance and remind her of her place in their world.

However, the brothers are not satisfied with just breaking Yui's will. They want to make sure she never tries to escape again, to do this, they devise a plan to make her completely dependent on them.

The brothers continue to punish Yui whenever she disobeys them, but they also reward her for good behavior.

They use a system of rewards and punishments to shape her behavior and to reinforce their control over her.

As the punishment continues, Yui's resistance begins to wane, she becomes more compliant and submissive, giving in to the brothers' demands.

The Tsukinami brothers use this to their advantage, manipulating her emotions to keep her under their control.

Using various mind-altering techniques, the brothers convince Yui that she needs them to survive.

They make her believe that she cannot function without them and that they are the only ones who can protect her.

Carla's Punishments:

“You have disobeyed me, and for that, you shall face the consequences. Do not mistake my calm demeanor for weakness, for I am fully capable of delivering punishment that will leave a lasting impression...”

Carla initially starts punishing Yui by making her kneel before he for hours while he lectures her about her disobedience and the consequences of running away.

After that, Carla humiliates Yui by making her perform degrading acts.

Carla begins the real punishment by isolating her in a dark and cold room with no food for days.

He wants her to experience the agony of hunger, Carla is not interested in killing Yui, but he wants to make her suffer, he tries to make her believe that she is responsible for this.

Carla forces Yui to watch as he destroys a beloved possession of hers, relishing in the despair and helplessness she feels as she begs him to stop.

He uses his intelligence and manipulation skills to trick Yui into believing that he is the only one who can save her from the other vampires.

Carla convinces her that he is her only hope and that she must submit to him completely. Once he has her under his control, he takes pleasure in breaking her spirit and forcing her to obey his every command.

He enjoys playing mind games with Yui, using her fear and confusion to his advantage. He takes pleasure in seeing her struggle and suffer, and often draws out her punishments for as long as possible in order to prolong her agony.

Carla's punishments often involve a mix of physical and emotional torture. He will beat Yui mercilessly one minute, then shower her with false kindness and affection the next.

This emotional whiplash is designed to keep her off balance and prevent her from ever feeling safe or secure.

Sometimes, he employs sensory deprivation to disorient and weaken Yui.

Carla strips Yui of her identity and sense of self, leaving her a shell of her former self.

He tries to completely break her, leaving Yui in a state of complete despair and hopelessness.

Despite his sadism, Carla struggles with feelings of guilt and remorse for what he is doing to Yui.

He knows that his actions are wrong, but he can't help himself. He tries to convince himself that it is all for the good of his race, but deep down he knows that he is just a cruel and selfish monster.

Carla's ultimate goal is to mate with Yui and restore his race, but he is also aware that this desire is rooted in his own personal pride and need for power.

He struggles with conflicting emotions, wanting to control Yui completely but also wanting her to willingly submit to him.

His punishments are a reflection of this internal struggle, as he alternates between cruelty and tenderness in his treatment of her.

Shin's Punishments:

“Hehehe... Your attempts to run away only make me want to break you even more until you realize that you are mine and mine alone!”

When Yui tries to run away from Shin, he feels a mix of anger and disappointment, as he sees it as a betrayal of her loyalty and submission to him.

He will usually catch Yui quickly due to his founder speed and strength, and once he does, he'll roughly grab her by the arm and drag her back to the mansion.

Shin punishes Yui by taking away her freedom of movement and making her stay in a small, cramped space for an extended period of time.

He wants her to understand the consequences of her actions and learn to fear him.

Shin will occasionally visit Yui in her “cell” to remind her of her place and to instill fear in her. He'll often threaten her with violence or humiliation to make sure she doesn't try to escape again.

Sometimes Shin might pretend to forgive Yui and treat her kindly for a short while, only to turn on her suddenly and punish her even more severely than before. He wants to keep her off balance and unsure of what he'll do next.

He might also use Yui's punishment as a way to prove his superiority to his brother. He'll brag to Carla about how he's able to keep Yui under control and how he's more capable than his brother.

Shin will rarely show mercy, although he tends to show more mercy than his brother. He sees any attempt to resist or disobey him as a challenge to his authority and will punish her accordingly.

Despite his cruelty towards Yui, Shin might also feel conflicted about his actions. He might struggle with feelings of guilt or shame, but he'll never let Yui see this side of him.

Shin might also experience jealousy towards Yui, especially if he sees her talking to another men — his brother — or showing interest in someone else. He sees her as his possession and doesn't want anyone else to have her.

Shin might start to become possessive and controlling over Yui's every move, monitoring her closely and punishing her for even the slightest mistake or misstep.

As time goes on, Shin might become more paranoid about Yui leaving him, to the point where he keeps her locked up and isolated from the outside world. He doesn't want to risk losing his possession and feeling the humiliation of being abandoned.

Even though Shin punishes Yui harshly, deep down, he still cares for her in his own twisted way. He wants her to understand that he is in control and that she cannot escape from him. He believes that he is doing what is best for their race, and he wants Yui to accept her role as his mate and the future queen of the First Bloods.

There are moments when Shin shows his vulnerable side to her. He opens up about his insecurities and fears, revealing a side of him that no one else has seen. These moments are rare, but they give Yui a glimpse of the real Shin beneath his sadistic exterior.

Regarding the fanfiction request you made from Carlayui a few months ago, I would like to inform you that I am still in the process of writing it. Despite encountering some difficulties working with the character, dealing with my creative block, and not having played the other games he is featured in yet, I am currently rereading some of his Dark Fate route in order to gain a better sense of direction for the story! Your request is receiving my attention.