#Language Learning Management System
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perilegs · 5 months ago
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my resolution for this year was to learn hiragana and katakana (not even japanese as a whole. just. some characters.) and i figured i'd learn how to write my name bc it'd be embarrassing if i didn't know how to do that and is it just me or does it look kinda cute. like, レービ <- that's like U_U* or -_-* to me
#ive acquired a 2nd hand textbook so i think i'll also actually learn the language a bit in a slow manner bc that will obvs support#learning the characters#u might be wondering why my plans are the characters only#it's bc i want to keep my goals small so if something happens or i get busy i can still manage it and i won't be disappointed#also by telling myself i'm only learning the characters i have zero pressure to learn anything so i will learn things out of pure curiosity#which means i'll have fun and actually learn things instead of stressing#kinda regretting it's the writing system that turned me off from learning it like a decade ago#bc if it weren't for that- i'd now be able to play ooe 😔#also i do still want to learn polish but i need a break to also give myself 0 expectations so i won't burn myself out learning languages#i think 4 languages is a good amount. i can forget swedish and spanish it's fine#im finnish so obvs i know finnish. english and swedish were mandatory to learn in school. and i also took spanish. taking a 4th language#is super common so idk i feel a bit inadequate speaking only 2 languages well#but i think my goal of speaking 2 well and then 2 a bit less well is doable. and i'm not talking about this being a goal of idk a year#or two but something i will very slowly work towards so it stays fun and me being curious is what will lead this instead of pressure#if that makes sense#ahh anyways this is soo besides the point#my focus is on reading & listening#though jpn and fin have Really similar sounds so listening will not b a problem#leevi talks
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qaheaccreditation · 2 years ago
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theambitiouswoman · 2 years ago
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How To Become A Brand New Person ✨✨
Self Reflect:
Journal daily.
Think about past decisions and how they impacted your life.
Meditate regularly.
Create a vision board to visualize your goals.
Review your strengths and weaknesses.
Identify your core values and beliefs.
Figure out your passions and interests.
Think about your childhood dreams and aspirations.
Evaluate your current state of happiness and fulfillment.
Set Clear Goals:
Define specific career goals, like "Get promoted within two years."
Set health goals, like "Lose 20 pounds in six months."
Create financial goals such as "Save $10,000 for a vacation."
Establish personal development goals, like "Read 24 books in a year."
Set relationship goals, such as "Improve communication with my partner."
Define education goals, like "Complete a master's degree in three years."
Set travel goals, like "Visit five new countries in the next two years."
Create hobbies and interests goals, such as "Learn to play a musical instrument."
Set community or volunteer goals, like "Volunteer 100 hours this year."
Establish mindfulness or self-care goals, such as "Practice meditation daily."
Self Care:
Exercise for at least 30 minutes a day.
Follow a balanced diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables.
Prioritize getting 7-9 hours of quality sleep each night.
Practice in relaxation techniques like deep breathing or yoga.
Take regular breaks at work to avoid burnout.
Schedule "me time" for activities you enjoy.
Limit exposure to stressors and toxic people.
Practice regular skincare and grooming routines.
Seek regular medical check-ups and screenings.
Stay hydrated by drinking enough water daily.
Personal Development:
Read a book every month from various genres.
Attend workshops or seminars on topics of interest.
Learn a new language or musical instrument.
Take online courses to acquire new skills.
Set aside time for daily reflection and self improvement.
Seek a mentor in your field for guidance.
Attend conferences and networking events.
Start a side project or hobby to expand your abilities.
Practice public speaking or communication skills.
Do creative activities like painting, writing, or photography.
Create a Support System:
Build a close knit group of friends who uplift and inspire you.
Join clubs or organizations aligned with your interests.
Connect with a mentor or life coach.
Attend family gatherings to maintain bonds.
Be open and honest in your communication with loved ones.
Seek advice from trusted colleagues or supervisors.
Attend support groups for specific challenges (e.g., addiction recovery).
Cultivate online connections through social media.
Find a therapist or counselor for emotional support.
Participate in community or volunteer activities to meet like minded people.
Change Habits:
Cut back on sugary or processed foods.
Reduce screen time and increase physical activity.
Practice gratitude by keeping a daily journal.
Manage stress through mindfulness meditation.
Limit procrastination by setting specific deadlines.
Reduce negative self-talk by practicing self-compassion.
Establish a regular exercise routine.
Create a budget and stick to it.
Develop a morning and evening routine for consistency.
Overcome Fear and Self Doubt:
Face a specific fear head-on (example: public speaking).
Challenge your negative thoughts with positive affirmations.
Seek therapy to address underlying fears or traumas.
Take small, calculated risks to build confidence.
Visualize success in challenging situations.
Surround yourself with supportive and encouraging people.
Journal about your fears and doubts to gain clarity.
Celebrate your accomplishments, no matter how small.
Focus on your strengths and accomplishments.
Embrace failure as a valuable learning experience.
Embrace Change:
Relocate to a new city or country.
Switch careers or industries to pursue your passion.
Take on leadership roles in your workplace.
Volunteer for projects outside your comfort zone.
Embrace new technologies and digital tools.
Travel to unfamiliar destinations.
Start a new hobby or creative endeavor.
Change your daily routine to add variety.
Adjust your mindset to see change as an opportunity.
Seek out diverse perspectives and viewpoints.
Practice Gratitude:
Write down three things you're grateful for each day.
Express gratitude to loved ones regularly.
Create a gratitude jar and add notes of appreciation.
Reflect on the positive aspects of challenging situations.
Show gratitude by volunteering or helping others in need.
Send thank-you notes or messages to people who've helped you.
Keep a gratitude journal and review it regularly.
Share your gratitude openly during family meals or gatherings.
Focus on the present moment and appreciate the little things.
Practice gratitude even in times of adversity.
Be Patient:
Set realistic expectations for your progress.
Accept that personal growth takes time.
Focus on the journey rather than the destination.
Learn from setbacks and view them as opportunities to improve.
Celebrate small milestones along the way.
Practice self-compassion during challenging times.
Stay committed to your goals, even when progress is slow.
Keep a journal to track your personal growth.
Recognize that patience is a valuable skill in personal transformation.
Celebrate Small Wins:
Treat yourself to your favorite meal or dessert.
Reward yourself with a spa day or self-care activity.
Share your achievements with friends and loved ones.
Create a vision board to visualize your successes.
Acknowledge and congratulate yourself in a journal.
Give yourself permission to take a break and relax.
Display reminders of your accomplishments in your workspace.
Take a day off to celebrate a major milestone.
Host a small gathering to mark your achievements.
Set aside time to reflect on how far you've come.
Maintain Balance:
Set clear boundaries in your personal and work life.
Prioritize self care activities in your daily routine.
Schedule regular breaks and downtime.
Learn to say "no" when necessary to avoid overcommitment.
Evaluate your work life balance regularly.
Seek support from friends and family to avoid burnout.
Be kind to yourself and accept imperfections.
Practice mindfulness to stay present and grounded.
Revisit your priorities and adjust them as needed.
Embrace self love and self acceptance as part of your daily life.
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"Marvel Phase 2-4 /Reader" Masterlist
Character pairings: Bucky Barnes/Reader, Bob Reynolds/Reader, Peter Parker/Reader, Moon Knight System/Reader, Matt Murdock/Reader, Frank Castle/Reader, Loki/Reader
Bucky Barnes/Reader
Sky Full of Song (11/11)  by @wkemeup
~ Siren! Reader and Pirate! Bucky
The Lucky And The Strong (5/5) ✨by @moondripletters
~ First words soulmate AU is complicated by time travel
Gonna Be Your Wound ✨ by @marelicarter
~ Shared pain soulmate AU
 set me free by @intrepidacious
~ Inspired by The Little Mermaid, Bucky is rescued after falling from the train
Vacant Mirrors (10/10)  by @pilotisms
~ Bonding with Bucky over having the same therapist and being traumatized
Time Has Brought Your Heart to Me ✨ by @softspeirs
~ Bucky Barnes' soulmate mark was on the arm that HYDRA took from him
These Ties That Bind (11/11) ✨ by @SweetAsCanBee
~ Soulmate AU with identity reveal and lovely miscommunication trope
Bathwater ✨ by @the-canary
~ Bucky Barnes is an asshole fuckboy...until he's not (Modern College AU w/ time skips)
It’s Been Calling Me ✨  by @godmadeaterribleerror
~ Shared dreams soulmate AU, smut
boot theory by @newtselvish
~ Post Civil War Bucky moves into the Avengers territory and finds love/acceptance with PR manager reader
Robert "Bob" Reynolds (Sentry)/Reader
The Lighthouse (15/15) by @DreamingEveryMoment
~ After the events in New York, Bob moves in with the reader, a former Avenger who can use energy/light to heal, put people to sleep, or blind them. Story of what it means to love someone and learn to love yourself, very slice of life, soft and domestic
Disorderly Sorcery by @coffee-with-bucky
~ Reader is a sorcerer of the mystic arts whose powers flare up when she feels strong emotions...naturally, her magic flares up because of her huge crush on Bob
The Popcorn Incident by @gyugraphy
~ Bob falls in love with you, panics, and pulls away from you. You, hurt, confide in Bucky. Now Bob thinks you're in love with Bucky. Miscommunication sandwich, NO LOVE TRIANGLE
Loving You Is Easy by @blank-potato
~ When reader loses her memory, her stilted relationship with Bob blossoms in a way it never did before.
~ PART 2: You Exist Behind My Eyelids
Instant Crush by @em1i2a3
~ Angsty, smutty, fluffy. P0rn with feelings. The good ole "I'm not good enough for you" except it's mutual.
drug of choice by @MarriedToAnAvocado
~ Reader finds Bob during his chicken costume days
what it is and what should never be by @sergeantbuckybarnes
~ Reader is in a coma where she's stuck in a reality where all her dreams come true
all the small things by @munsonify
~ 3+1 of Bob's love language of care-taking/service
good grief by @em1i2a3
~ Bob likes watching you train...so does the Sentry
Velour and Velcro by @em1i2a3
~ Thunderbolts!Reader has a sketchbook she keeps of the goings on of the Watchtower, Bob is shocked to discover how many drawings of him there are
Where Soft Things Grow by @violetrainbow412-blog
~ Bob takes up gardening with the reader at the recommendation of his therapist
Got You Where I Want You by @em1i2a3
~ You walk in on Bob staring at himself in the mirror...very cute and fluffy
Business by @em1i2a3
~ Drunken love confessions! Yay
If I Believe You by @em1i2a3
~ Depressed reader finds comfort with the Void (the Void is really confused)
Invisible Silver Linings (7/7) by @All_InProcess
~ You meet Bob in the O.X.E. study, angst with a happy ending
one day i am gonna grow wings (9/9) by @bluepenguin63
~ A beautiful meditation on trauma, grief, addiction, and healing, starring childhood best friends to lovers.
Ferra by @gyugraphy
~ Villain reader with Magneto powers, very badass and cool, somewhat angsty
Risk by @starrbishops
~ Mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, wingman! John is really funny
The Ghost I Left Behind (7/7) by @brookghaib-blog
~ Find rest of story here, Bob leaves the reader to Malaysia after she tells him she's pregnant because of his addiction, reader has a traumatic past involving SA, takes place before, after, and during Thunderbolts*
The Dark Side by @em1i2a3
~ Bullying the Void into giving back Bob through love and cuddling, hurt/comfort
between book pages and baked pies by @gyugraphy
~ All the best tropes (book shop AU, fake dating AU, identity reveal)
Peter Parker/Reader
Sunset Lovers ✨by @duskholland
~ Shared writing on skin soulmate AU, college AU
Out of Time by @mgparker
~ Heavy angst, reader dies
Crush by @ptersparkers
~ Spider-Man is in love with reader, who he visits enough as his alter ego to know she has a crush on someone; unknown to him, that someone is Peter Parker
One in the Same by @finnwrld
~ Same basic plot as above, but with its own special flare :)
Another Chance (5/5) by @mgparker
~ No Way Home The Amazing Spiderman x Reader
my reverie’s affinity remains to be you ✨by @indouloureux
~ Enemies to lovers, college AU
The Room Incident (23/23) by @lemonsandlimes
~ And they were roommates...OH MY GOD they were roommates. This is such a good fic but the ending is INCREDIBLY sad and angsty. The ride is great but no happy ending, sorry folks.
Peter Parker, The Idiot by @vampire_boyfriend
~ Mutual pining, caring for Peter when he's injured
Do You Like Pizza? (13/13) by @CrazyCookieCrumbles
~ Post-No Way Home The Amazing Spiderman x Reader
I Miss You by @defaulttwig
~ Fake character death, reader works for a super villain
That’s Rough Buddy (10/10) by @Cats_Cradle39
~ Peter B. Parker/Reader (my sad and pathetic little meow meow)
Left Behind (3/3) by @Sassi
~ Set during the Snap, reader deals with a world without Peter
Frank Castle/Reader
Don’t Walk Away (2/2) by @BellaGiornata
~ Love confession goes wrong, and then it goes right
Sometimes love isn’t enough (5/5) by @AnnaHawk
~ Angst, pining, porn with feelings
Matt Murdock/Reader
As your fingers brush my skin ✨by @silverwolf7850
~ Your soulmark is written in Braille
There will come a day we pass each other by, but we’ll probably pretend to not notice ✨ by @silverwolf7850
~ Guardian angel + time travel soulmate AU
I’m With You (2/2) ✨ by @RAParker
~ "You see color when you see your soulmate for the first time" AU
through the looking glass by @ver3eastloveuonica
~ TW: Reader has anorexia
untouchable by @ver3eastloveuonica
~ TW: Reader is sexually assaulted
Late Night Confessions by @courtforshort15
~ Reader wants to break up with Matt because he's keeping secrets
Daddy Issues by @farfromstrange
~ Matt accidentally triggers you
perhaps love by @alrighty-matty
~ 5+1 Matt realizing he loves you
These Broken Things by @courtforshort15
~ Matt's emotional constipation is putting a strain on your relationship
Strawberry Rhubarb by @ellephlox
~ Reader is kidnapped by Fisk
Go to him, therefore, by sea by @silverwolf7850
~ Merman! Matt x Human! Reader
Then Came You by @leossmoonn
~ Drunk Matt confesses his love
Billy Russo/Reader
Just Beneath The Flames (17/17) by @crossbows-and-moonshine
~ Zombie apocalypse AU, Frank Castle/Karen Page
TVA! Loki/Reader
The Nexus Event (18/18)  by @lokiedokiee
~ Reader kills Thanos after watching him kill Loki...this triggers a Nexus event
From the Void, With Love (25/25) by @pilotisms
~ TVA! Loki x Reader, enemies to friends to lovers
Why Me? (15/15) by @EdenRhodes
~ TVA! Loki x Reader, Sacred Timeline! Loki x Reader
Moon Knight System/Reader
Tilt by @the-little-ewok
~ Steven missed your date, but it isn't Steven that comes around to explain why he did
Reverence for the Moon (6/6) by @raelwrites
~ You're the high moon priestess
Just a Touch of Your Hand ✨ by @mccn-bcys
~ An ink-stain appears wherever your soulmate first touches you
Complicated (26/26) by @lets_not_talk_about_this
~ Reader needs someone to walk hre home from work
Come Back to Me by @mgparker
~ Reader dies LOL (this hurts so good)
Canopic Jar  by @bruhstories
~ Marc isn't very nice to you, Steven's girlfriend
Batons and Unicorns (3/3) by @stormkobra-5
~ Avenger! Steven Grant meets the new recruit, a mute shapeshifter
Guiding You to Me ✨by @raelwrites
~ Soulmate animal guide AU
I’m getting to know someone by @davosmymaster
~ Marc's POV of reader's relationship with Steven
Letters to You (2/2) by @lowlymoon
~ Reader sends Jake letters in an attempt to bond with the elusive alter
Not Him by @loud-mouth-loser
~ You and Marc bond over the fact that Steven and Layla (your respective loves) are more into each other than either of you
Spirit (4/4) by @milohurts
~ Reader is a ghost haunting the Moon Knight system
Written on Your Skin (3/3) ✨ by @Coalix
~ Reader has 3 soulmate names
Two Sides of the Same Coin (4/4) by @TheRavynFire
~ Reader falls in love with both Marc and Steven
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sailingintothenight · 18 days ago
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“Starlight.” Bob Reynolds Imagine.
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Summary: Following John Walker's advice, Bob decides to confess his feelings for you… to you.
A/N: Hi. First of all, thanks for the love on my first Bob imagine "A safe heaven". Secondly, I'm still getting to know Taylor Swift's music so I can't really call myself a fan, but like Jake Peralta said: she makes me feel things. She makes all of us feel things, Jake! So I quoted one of her songs here :) My first language is Spanish and I'm still learning English, so please excuse me if there are any grammatical errors. That's all. Thank you! And I think I messed up saying you were an Avenger, but the timeline is a confusing so let's pretend it's okay, please?
Warning: Bob being a cutie, the usual hehe
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“Is (Y/N) back yet, Lena?”
“You mean (Y/N) and Bucky?”
“Yeah, right. Them.”
“No. Not yet—”
"Oh..."
Bob slumps down onto the couch, pulling his disappointed look away from Yelena and her emotion detector.
“I just know they’re about to. In 10 minutes, I think.”
But it was the talented Taylor Swift that once said: you’ve got a smile that can light up this whole town, and now, Bob’s smile behind the milkshake he holds with two hands (not a big one, just adorable and shy), fighting his own nerves, could light up the whole world. Through moments, pieces of happiness that he has been collecting with you, Bob had begun to regain his own light, little by little, with them making his eyes bright again, like tiny twinkling stars after his life had been darker than an undiscovered galaxy—still and silent, without a light source, nonexistent until someone notices its presence.
And that's what you'd done from the beginning: seeing his warm personality.
Always warm like the edge of his heart, even in the midst of his storms, with you managing to look directly into the core of his overwhelming fears, the most hidden and the most obvious ones. And without meaning to, without seeking it, Bob had found himself leaning toward you, finding refuge in your inexhaustible source of love when he felt a little down, a love that you always showered upon him in many ways, with a word of empathy or a physical display of affection, or the loving way you pushed a lock of his hair aside, even though it always fell back into place, making you laugh.  
But when everything was alright, life was even better between back–and–forth conversations or the deepest ones, like the days and nights you two spent together to decipher if ghosts were real or solving the unsolved mysteries that lingered, and there, Bob could see the way even your eyes smiled every time your lips curved upward. You smiled and laughed a lot with him, and with the group, Bob paid full attention to your expression more than to other's, learning to differentiate your sound from the rest in a heartbeat.
"Yeah, Bob, your little girlfriend is coming back soon. You must be excited."
John's voice is flat, his back on the couch, directing his attention to the TV, but so full of mockery that Bob can feel it in the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears burn.
"(Y/N) is not my girlfriend."
"But you want her to be. I can see you dying to hold her, to hug her, and to kiss her. I bet you dream about it every day."
Yelena gives a long sigh, sinking deeper into the comfort of the other long couch, but her bored expression is just as threatening as when her eyes flared at any sign of danger.
"Why do you always have to be such a jerk, Walker?"
"I'm just being supportive!" John looks slightly surprised, as if his support system actually comes with sarcasm inevitably, lowering the arms he used to emphasize his protest. "I'll give you some advice, Bob—"
"I didn't ask for your advice."
“I’ll give it to you anyway. Tell (Y/N) how you feel, that you care a little too much for her or that you’re in love, I don’t know, but do it today, don’t wait for tomorrow because tomorrow is a bitch sometimes and who knows? Maybe we could get attacked by some alien and die.”
“That sounds fun, actually.”
Bob frowns, confused and slightly terrified, looking for some trace of sarcasm in Yelena’s deadpan voice, but when the elevator dings with an annoying chime announcing your arrival, and Bucky’s, his head turns in your direction, meeting your gaze as you smile back when he does it first, feeling his own joy of seeing you beating within him.
Bob wondered sometimes if stars also existed in the eyes, not only in the night sky.
“It’s great to have you back, guys.” John sits down, fighting his own smirk. “We’re very happy to see you, aren’t we, Bob?”
Making his existence smaller, Bob nods, his body shrinking a little, but as Bucky recounts the events of the successful mission that lasted less than the expected number of days, you take your backpack from him and head towards your room. Yet it's your gaze that catches the way Walker continues to drag his mocking eyes between Bob and you, a second before looking away.
Messy minds tended to be the noisiest, you knew this well as you found a way to coexist peacefully with outside noises, building a wall around yourself so you wouldn't hear them even in your sleep, but as you disappear down the hallway, Walker leans forward, his brow furrowing at the pain that begins to throb in the front of his head, like a hammer hitting a nail.
"Another headache, Walker?" Yelena asks.
"Yeah, maybe I should see a doctor."
Yelena maintains a flat expression, though it amuses her to tears the way he hadn't realized that it was you who caused them, but she remains determined not to give herself away even when her gaze meets Bucky's, (who wants to laugh too) while she coughs softly to hide Bob's chuckle as he stands up.
"Maybe you should just stop being such a jerk."
"What, Bob?"
"Nothing."
But Walker had a point, Bob thinks sadly, all the time it takes him to make a milkshake for you. Between the sips of coffee that left a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue when you finished it, he knew you also enjoyed something just sweet, a drink that was like a remnant of a past life, a memory of your childhood, a whole journey that made you smile.
Bob didn't seek you out, and before you, he was just existing with empty hands and a mind full of dark thoughts, until things took a turn, and then his hand was always full with yours holding it, and a mind occupied as Bob began to replace the unwanted memories with something better, stopping living on autopilot, answering that question of whether things would ever get better.
Now, Bob turns the corner and enters the long corridor of rooms, and his sharp hearing registers the song playing in the distance, which grows slightly louder as he approaches the half–open door, a second voice providing the backing vocals, your voice, coming to him like a soft breeze. And he doesn't mean to spy, but shy as he usually is, Bob leans a little bit over the frame, his nervous hand still holding the glass to his chest.
You are there, your back to him, singing at the same level as the voice in your phone, walking around the room, fixing your already made bed or rearranging your desk. Your space after losing your place in your house, your new little home.
With a glass window on the other side and that lets in the golden autumn light, it reflects on your head, and Bob feels a warmth rise in his stomach and creep down his body, ending up on his cheeks (the ones that had managed to rest from Walker's teasing) with a violent thud that makes him swallow.
You're wearing loose jeans and an oversized light blue sweater with sunflowers woven into it in haphazard patterns, light blue as the sky when dawn is breaking and the darkness fades away, because nothing last forever, not even the absence of light—and with you looking like everything Bob never could dream of finding—a nervous, childlike smile, one of those full of innocence, like the warmth of first love, spreads across his face.
Not in a garish way; but you are colorful, just like your soul and your clothes and your words. Time seems suddenly frozen as he films everything about you in his gaze, as if a single second feels like a lifetime together, even though you've only been together a few months.
However, when you turn around, like a domino effect, his body jerks a second after yours, holding the glass slightly away so the tide inside doesn't splash him.
"Jesus, Bob, you scared me!" You laugh, nervous, and he's fast to apologize.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I was here a second ago, I promise." He swallows the lump in his throat when your sharp gaze seems to pierce through him, but you are not upset, just mocking him silently. "I just came to bring you this.”
There are many things you'd learned to over–feel after your mind expanded, like the noise in other people's heads, like the slight vibration of Bob's hand when he gives you the milkshake, with you holding the glass with both hands.
“Thank you.” A gentle smile is drawn on your face. “This is so sweet of you, but you shouldn't have bothered, though, you know?”
He shakes his head.
“It's no bother.”
Bob pushes his hands into his pockets, almost rocking back and forth, lingering there for a moment as you take the first sip, and when you tell him it tastes great, he just smiles.
Bob is beautiful on the outside too, adorable with his casual style, (clothes he carefully selects just to sit on the couch with you, or go to the few places you frequent together) with his angelic face and his eyes looking at you as you two talk, sitting side by side on the floor while working together your new 1,000–piece puzzle, but not meeting your eyes for more than two, maybe three consecutive seconds.
With your attention on the ground, you feel the warmth of his body radiating like waves nearby, like the power of that fiery star that hangs between the warmest days. Life moves like a whisper beside him, soft after a storm, quiet like when calm comes after chaos, and you love that.  
“Bob, do you know who Stitch is?”
He looks up from the piece in his hand and nods, those two unruly chocolate strands of hair bouncing with the movement, only to frame his face and that nervous look reflected in his warm blue eyes, but they can never hide the joy Bob feels when he sees the happiness in yours, and in that moment, there is an overflowing, almost childlike thrill in them. Like finding a sapphire among a pile of faded rocks, the light in your eyes always shone no matter the season, like the sparkling autumn that paints the city now—and Bob Reynolds loves autumn.
“Great. You're coming to the movies with me tomorrow.”
“L–like a date?”
Yet the sound of the silent autumn breeze blowing leaves floors below is even louder than his mental whisper, even though no one hears him in there. His heart beats under his own anxiety, but Bob smiles with that possibility.
"Are the others coming with us?"
But you feel it: the disappointment in his voice at a positive response.
“Well, no: Lena didn't have a real childhood, so she doesn't know about those kinds of movies. Walker is a walking insult machine. Ava would somehow make kids cry. And I'm pretty sure Bucky's older than that radioactive cheese living in the fridge that no one dares throw away, so he only watches classics.”
Bob chuckles, a small, nervous but colorful sound.
“That cheese scares me. Kinda looks at me funny.”
“Isn’t that right?! I feel like it could give us even worse powers than we already have.”
He nods, frowning, but maintaining an amused expression as he holds your gaze.
“Yeah. It’s been there for a suspicious amount of time. Maybe it’s a spy.”
You laugh in surprise.
“My God, your humor is as broken as mine. But when I asked Alexei if he wanted to come, I tried to explain that Stitch was an alien, and the poor man started hyperventilating. An alien?! We should prepare for invasion, yeah?��� You do your best to imitate his accent, and the joy of Bob’s deep laugh is adorable, warm, even when it falters because of his constant nervousness. “It was my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have started talking about an alien after the Chitauri tried to invade the city and then others kept coming.”
Bob swallows, considering whether his next words might cross the line, hurting you even though he'd never do it on purpose. He knew a bit about your history and your brief stint with the Avengers, about your lab–gained powers, but all that information was just scratching the surface of a life that so drastically changed the course of your path.
"Can I ask you a question?"
You can see Bob's gaze fixed on the puzzle out of the corner of your eye, but you nod anyway.
"Of course you can."
"Are you angry about what happened to you?”
Your gentle gaze rests on him, even though Bob does his best to focus his full attention on the pieces, but you know he’s trying with all his might to feel normal again, not to act it, fighting to return to what he was before the drugs and his depression, before his alter egos and his memory loss that kept him from living a full life when there were pieces hidden in the darkness that made him feel incomplete.
No one can live a full life if they always feel like something is missing, you had once told him.
And maybe his attempt to be who he was again made him beautiful too, so beautiful it hurts, even though Yelena's words still echo in your chest: he's in love with you. Because Bob looks like literature written by a feminine hand, sweet like the male protagonist of the most romantic book in the world, the dream of those who read and dream of finding someone like him, with him never realizing his own virtues, always oblivious to all that beauty in him, inside and out, which only made him even more beautiful.
You and he were still young, young adults whose years of your lives were snatched away by selfish people who only sought their own benefit—but being in love still scared you more, even when you were already completely immersed in that feeling.
“No. Not anymore. I spent so much time angry that it wore me down, but I think I found again that something that kept me going when all seemed lost.”
Bob blinks, confused, but he looks up and keeps his eyes fixed on your face until yours meet his again, so he doesn't miss a single bit of your answer.
“And what was it?”
“Love.”
You laugh at the way his face contorts in surprise, angelic eyes (even after having seen hell) a little wide open, blending with his radiant innocence as Bob tries to take in your entire expression, looking in search of a hint of lie.
“I mean love in general, Bob.” He calms down fast and listens closely. Four letters that seemed simple, but hid such a profound undertone, with new things that you were still discovering, a feeling that made you feel as if after the wild waves, the water on the shore once again felt a lullaby, soothing your life until they became nothing more than a delicate whisper on the sand. “I spent so much time hating myself that I forgot my parents and my older brother taught me to love myself properly, deeply. But then I felt again the love I had for people and things, the one I had before waking up on a gurney in that secret facility: my love for my family, for books, animals, for movies, for the few but good friends I had, and even for that boy with ocean–colored eyes I was getting to know in a sunny Los Angeles.”
Not everything was perfect, but Bob sees you feeling you’re the right path, and as he weighs your words, he knows they are like the first breath of fresh air after feeling scorching heat in your lungs, or like a light in the darkness.
"I was so close to you and didn't know it." He chuckles, with a hint of melancholy as Bob wonders what it would have been like to know you in another life, before the catastrophe, though now, he is happy he can feel a connection with you, as if he'd actually met you before. "I wish I could have met you back there."
"Yeah, me too. But everything I've been through has led me to this moment with you, so I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Your gaze returns to the puzzle when his gaze moves away from you for a moment, but coming back in the second to admire what you're letting him see—the profile of your face, the soft smile on your lips.
Bob confidently trusts that you're still the same despite past events, with the same laughter, the same desire to remain good, plus a power that spread through your mind. And everything still seems like a cozy autumn dream, with sensations so vivid that Bob can feel them on his skin, deep in his shy heart, wanting to live in it forever.
However, in a more selfish sense, like he never was, Bob wonders what it would feel like to be loved by you, in a romantic, deep, and real way like he's never experienced. Because now Bob understands that if your laughter and your smile and your happiness hid so much feeling, so much so that he could compare you to a romantic movie—the kind that has you in tears mid–act but has a happy ending, and when the credits roll, there's always a soulful ballad sung and a high note at the end that makes you tremble.
Surely your love for someone was just as beautiful.  
Your hand rests on your leg, empty, and Bob wants to take it, hold it while you lead the way, because he knows that he would follow you wherever you went, and that in a crowd, he would find you. It's like an invisible light around you only he can see, like a thread tied to his pinky finger connected to yours.  
“I’m in love with you.” His whisper threatens to fade into the void again, even when your nervous gaze catches his, but Bob knows he has to tell you his feelings now before he stops being brave and his words die a cruel death inside him. “You were the first person who told me I wasn’t invisible, that you wouldn’t leave me behind even when I told you I was a threat. And I really tried to stop thinking of you this way, but every time I close my eyes I can see you, and I can hear you, and that’s so much nicer…” Bob’s little smile is shy, him watching yours, which is somewhat saddened by the weight of his past, fragments he shared with you during your time together. “When I’m alone I want to see you, and when we are together I wish we could be together all day. I know I have nothing to offer you, and that sometimes I’m a little cloudy like Lena calls me, but you are confident, and you are smart, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same—”
“I do feel the same.” A small, shy chuckle past by between your lips, watching your fingers as you rub them against each other, followed by a sigh that seems to let go of a piece of your own past. “And that’s what scares me, but not enough to make me not want to be with you.”
Then, his hand envelops yours, calming you and your fear, steadying your whole world as your eyes return to his. Your vision of him is clearer, nervous but receptive, open to new sensations, and even with his own fears and insecurities, Bob leans forward, with you mirroring the gesture, the image of the other in yours and his closed eyelids, allowing yourself to be felt on each other's lips.
And the kiss is soft like his existence, bright in the dark, like the starlight that lingered in your gaze.
Your hand squeezes his gently as his lips move against yours, just a little bit, and after living numb for so long, feeling again feels so good.
Bob pulls away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.
"Walker told me to tell you how I felt... today." He chuckles, speaking softly so as not to clash with the new environment, which is even more welcoming than the last ten seconds. "Can't believe he was right."
You pull away a little, opening your eyes again as he does it, chuckling with him at John's expense, and you push back that curly strand of hair of his with your free hand, which moves back into place, but as Bob leans forward again, you two know that from now on, life would be even brighter.
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witherby · 2 months ago
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I wonder what mouse would think of an injured Kon being taken back to the bat cave after being beaten by kryptonite, like a pt 2 of meet the family lol, would they put everyone in a pocket dimension or would they take Kon into a pocket dimension?
-🔱
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Yeah, we can explore the follow-up to this scenario for sure. 😏
Littlest Wayne: Meet the Family, pt. 2
Part 1 is Here!
Masterlist is Here!
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Your brother is acting weird. When you try to go down to the Cave to greet the boys after patrol, Jason hooks his arm under your legs and tucks you into his side, like when you were a child pretending to be a football, and takes you back upstairs. You squirm and wriggle to no avail, throwing your arms up incredulously.
"Jay!? Hello!?" You cry.
"Hey," he says, nonchalant as ever. He waltzes into the living room and deposits you on the plush, cream couch, sinking down on the other end and draping his legs across your lap like a seatbelt. "Dick's detoxing from Fear Gas. Can't go down there or he might mistake you for a goon and swing."
You frown. "Scarecrow was out? There wasn't the usual alert."
"He wasn't a threat long enough to warrant one," Jason shrugs. "Stumbled upon one of his labs while we were chasin' a different lead and took him out. Managed to dose Dick but Tim, Dami and I are fine."
"Oh. Okay. Does he need anything?"
Jason gives you a fond smile. "Nothing our civvie-sib needs to worry about. Let your big, mighty heroes fix it."
"I don't think shooting people makes you a hero, Jay."
"Alright, then let your favorite vigilantes fix it."
"Hmm, dunno. I think Green Arrow is my favorite vigilante."
"Take that back right now."
You lift an eyebrow. "I will not."
Jason gasps and lightly kicks you with his boot. You flick him in the ankle. He reaches over and flicks your ear. You stick your finger in your mouth and then jam it in his ear. He yelps and climbs off the couch to get away from you.
"Dammit, Mousey, that's gross!"
"So is sticking your dirty boots in my lap fresh off a patrol! These pants are expensive and your feet smell like the Gotham sewer system." You stand up and pointedly brush dirt off your thighs.
"Okay, alright! Point taken. Truce?"
You sigh and bump your fist against his, smiling despite your irritation. "I'm going to shower and sleep, then. D'you need anything?"
Jason shakes his head. He ruffles your hair as you walk past him and you use your shadows to trip him as he walks towards the kitchen. He hits the ground with a cry and swears after you, and you grin as you run up the stairs.
Once safe in the confines of your bedroom, you turn on the shower in the ensuite and lock the door, then slip into the darkness and sink down to the cave to investigate the real reason he didn't want you down there. Because Jason lied when he told you about Scarecrow.
You don't think he knows about this particular tell, but he always shrugs his right shoulder when he's lying and the left when he's being honest. Any normal person wouldn't have picked up on that, but as you descend into the Batcave, you recognize that you didn't grow up in a normal family. Getting anybody to admit to anything in this house, even the inconsequential shit like a slight cough, is like pulling teeth, so you've had to learn to read their body language over the years to glean the info you want.
As the darkness guides you along, helping you identify objects (the computer, the batmobile, the display cases for old suits) and people, (Dick, Tim, and Damian, all of whom are noticeably free from the influence of Fear Toxin), you also glean the thing they didn't want you to find.
Rather, the person.
"Were you planning on getting this done sometime in the next week?" Damian complains. Dick hip-checks him since his hands are too busy tweezing shards of Kryptonite out of Conner's prone body, bent over him as they crowd around the medical bed.
"Listen, shut up, listen," Dick stammers, like he usually does when something is his fault. You make a note of that while your shadow blends in with the walls. "I'm almost done. Then we can go put him in Superman's little UV sun room, let him heal up there, and put him back in Metropolis. It's fine! He'll be out of here before B ever knew he was in Gotham."
"Um." Tim, who's sitting on the counter across the room, holds up his phone. "B accessed the footage. He told me he's on his way back."
Damian, your unflappable youngest brother with a glare sharp enough to cut diamond, suddenly looks nervous.
"This may have been poor planning on our end."
"No!" Dick cries, hands shaking as he pulls more Kryptonite out of Conner's skin. "The plan was to knock some sense into the kid that thought he could sneak into our baby sibling's bedroom in the middle of the night, okay? And we did that! Plan succeeded! We got a little overzealous! It's fine, everything is fine!"
Damian and Tim look at Dick, then at the escrima sticks lying on the medical tray with the extracted Kryptonite, then at each other. You watch their expressions shift and the two of them nod at the same time.
"Everything's fine," Tim echoes calmly, then hops down and dashes for the door.
"You've got this," Damian agrees, quickly following suit.
Dick wilts like a flower as he watches them leave. "Abandoners! Traitors!! Assholes!!!"
You're inclined to agree. Clearly all of them had something to do with this, they just didn't want to get yelled at by Bruce. Conner groans weakly on the table and recaptures your attention, shifting onto his side. Dick presses a hand to his shoulder to keep him still, looking truly repentant.
"Shh," he says, "two more shards, okay? Let me pull those out and then we'll get you fixed up, kid."
"Hurts..." Conner grunts, returning to consciousness with a hiss of air through his teeth. "Pain sucks..."
"You've never gotten hurt before?" Dick asks. He looks like the guilt is going to pull him to the ground, all hunched over the cot with his tweezers like Quasimodo. He plucks out the last shards and deposits them on the medical cart beside him, then pushes it far enough away from Conner that it shouldn't bother him anymore.
"No," Conner mutters. He cracks an eye open and glares at Dick over his shoulder. "So thanks for that, Nightwing... Or would you prefer Dick Grayson?"
Dick chews the inside of his cheek, expressionless despite the panic you know he's feeling. He's bearing most of his weight on the balls of his feet, body instinctively poised to run from problematic situations like the train wreck of a conversation before him.
"Um. Who's that?"
You almost snort from your hiding spot. Conner levels him with a flat look and pushes himself into an upright position with a grunt. His arms tremble from the strain and Dick quickly steadies him with an arm around his waist. His thumb brushes against one of the tears in Conner's suit, a visual reminder of the damage he caused even though the wounds have closed.
"Even without being told ahead of time, it's not hard to put together: The person I rescued from the conservatory fire," Conner says, staring right at Dick, "was a Wayne. It's their room I entered later that night to see if they were okay and introduce myself. So, unless there's another Wayne out there with four older brothers who came to Metropolis, beat me, and dragged me back to Gotham in the world's worst version of the Shovel Talk, you're Dick Grayson. By that logic, Robin, Red Robin, and Red Hood are Damian, Tim, and Jason."
He brushes Dick's arm away and gets to his feet, leaning on the cot to support himself. The splatters of blood left behind highlight the tenseness of the conversation. He gestures to it with a sneer.
"And you wouldn't have swung so hard if it wasn't personal. My suit is ruined."
Dick swears under his breath, running his fingers through his hair.
"I — yes, okay, you got us. You gotta keep that a secret, though. Understand? A lot of shit would go sideways if the wrong people found out our identities."
Conner turns and shuffles towards the door of the medical bay. Dick blocks the exit and looks at him, panicking under the domino mask.
"I'm serious," he says. "You can't tell anyone. Does Lex know already? Did you reveal that information to someone else?"
"Great questions. Should've thought about that," Conner says, nudging Dick effortlessly out of the way now that the kryptonite is out of his system, "before you came to my city, insulted my character, attacked, and kidnapped me."
"Yes, we should've!"
Your shadow blends seamlessly into Dick's as he gets up and hurries after Conner. He doesn't appear to be strong enough to fly away yet, but the pale blue of his iris is quickly turning red. His strength is returning while his patience wanes, mentally checked out of this pseudo-interrogation.
"Look, Superkid —"
"Superman!"
Dick flashes his palms in surrender as those eyes snap to him. "Sure. Superman. Don't think that's gonna last in the long-term, though; we've already got one of those. People are gonna get confused."
"Not when he steps down and acknowledges me as his superior."
"I — okay, whoa, let's put a pin in that because we absolutely have to discuss that later — listen, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry we jumped you like that and didn't give you the chance to talk it out. But you gotta understand how dangerous that was for our sibling."
"You think I was going to hurt them?" Conner asks, gritting his teeth. His fists clench at his sides and Dick takes a large step back. His stance widens and he ducks his head a little, de-escalating the situation as quickly as possible while still poised to defend himself if necessary.
"We don't know what you were going to do. That's the point. No one knows who you are or what you want." Dick gestures between himself and Conner emphatically, shaking his head as your name is mentioned. "They're not a vigilante like us. They're just a civilian. And while they're far from helpless, they are my baby sibling. Some stranger nobody has information about took an interest in them specifically, found their home, and snuck into their bedroom through the window in the middle of the night. The only reason we even know that is because they told us about it the next morning."
Dick peels the domino mask off his face and gives Conner an exhausted frown, pleading with him to see reason.
"That was terrifying to hear about. In a house full of detectives, nobody knew you were there. You could have hurt them. You could have taken them. You could have done any number of terrible things to my family, and we would've been none the wiser. Do you realize how inherently threatening that is, kid? Regardless of your intentions, all we knew was what you did, hours after the fact."
Conner turns his head away and crosses his arms. The red fades from his eyes along with the majority of his ire.
"I get it," he says. "Sorry for scaring you, but you can rest assured I mean them no harm."
"Great. I believe you," Dick says. "But you can't do that again. Sneaking into the Manor unannounced like that is the fastest way to get B to beat your ass."
"Tch. Like father, like son."
Dick grimaces. "I— well. Yeah. I'm sorry."
"I heard you the first time." Conner's posture straightens up and his feet leave the floor, recovered enough to use most of his powers again. "I'm gonna go now —"
"Wait!" Dick snatches his ankle. Conner stops and glares.
"Ugh. What!"
"I'm also extremely serious about the identity thing. You need to keep that to yourself. How do I know you aren't gonna run back to Luthor and immediately spill our secrets?"
The boy tilts his head, considering. Dick's grip gets tighter despite the futility of it. All the Kryptonite he could've used to subdue him, to keep him from leaving the Cave while they hash this out, is lying in a medical cart several yards out of reach. In their current positions, he's no more a hindrance than a gentle breeze.
"You don't... Unless you offer me something."
Dick's expression hardens and he clenches his jaw, no doubt already running a dozen calculations through his brain. "What do you want? Money? Territory?"
"Visitation."
You watch your brother falter. Your confusion echoes his. "What?"
Conner gently kicks his leg. Dick releases him, and the boy floats back down to the ground. Despite being almost half a foot shorter than your brother, his presence is large. Just like Uncle Clark's. His expression is no-nonsense and his hands slide into the pockets of his leather jacket. He's looking at Dick like a man that knows he's got the game stacked in his favor. Dick's looking at Conner like he's gauging how much time he's got before a bomb goes off.
"I want your sibling."
And
wasn't that just
the worst fucking way to answer that question.
Your hold on Dick's shadow slips away in your shock. You sink fully back into the void before you can find out how your brother reacts to Conner's declaration. You aren't sure you want to know.
You re-emerge in your bathroom, gasping in the steam from the abandoned shower you were pretending to take and hastily turning the knobs off. The heat in the room is nothing compared to the burning in your cheeks.
"What," you sputter, aloud, alone, and incredulous, "the fuck does that mean!!"
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theblacklewinsky · 6 months ago
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Note: this masterpiece being on repeat made me like this 😵‍💫
HOUSTON'S BEST. | Aaron Pierre
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Terry Richmond x Black! Female Stripper Reader.
Warnings: MDNI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( oral sex, (male receiving) penetrat!on (unprotected p in v, don't do that!), breath play, water sports, slapping/hitting, degradation), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint. Not proofread.
Summary: in which Terry meets an exotic dancer during his deployment and recounts their heated sexual relationship.
you used to strip out of east Atlanta,
probably where you learned all your talents.
He never knew her real name, or anything that was actually concrete to her, but he did know how his hazel eyes stayed trained on the exotic dancer in front of him the first time he saw her, the strobe lights made it a bit impossible to focus in on her face—as well as her many tricks and whirls around the pole. But her silhouette was perfect, and with a body as perfect as hers he was sure her face had to be a perfect match.
That wasn't his usual scene though, he'd been nearly forced there with his homeboys. Due to his recent breakup at the time, and a dreary deployment, his friends swore he needed a night of fun. And obviously their idea of a night of fun, was six deep in an east Atlanta strip club. He didn't usually spend his pastimes in Atlanta strip clubs, blowing his last dollars on a half-dressed woman, but if every stripper was enchanting as this one, he understood.
They introduced her as Houston, something he only understood when he found himself at her apartment. Only a few blocks away, from the club she worked at four nights a week, the other three days were supposedly spent in trade school where she was training to be a dental hygienist.
Not to mention, her face definitely did match her body.
Terry was unsure of how he made it to her quaint apartment the first time. He remembered how she sauntered over to the bar sometime after her set, she sported an oversized jogging suit, her low, brown eyes seemed to stare right through him, her smile was sinful. Everything about her screamed, trouble.
Anyway, even with a couple of shots flowing through him he was sober enough to hear the country edge to her voice—soft, elongated vowels, with that slight drawl that captivated him with each word. For a man who'd been deployed in and out of the states, he knew a Houston accent from anywhere, he'd spent four years there after all. That's where her stage name came from.
She'd never volunteered her real name, and always seemed hesitant when he asked about it. Obviously there was things she was keeping secret from this arrangement, and even three months deep into this said arrangement, she was still just Houston.
Terry never knew how they advanced to sex so quickly, the first time. Maybe it was the amount of alcohol in his system that night, maybe it was how naturally bold Houston was. Maybe it was because she kept casually sitting on his lap, complimenting him. Looking at him with those low, seductive eyes.
But it wasn't the first time anymore. Or the second. Or the third, and that was because Houston kept him coming back. She was a needed stress reliever. She knew what she was doing.
Houston knew exactly what she was doing though. And she was best at the shit too. The art of seduction through her dance—had nothing on her art of seduction in the bedroom. She would stare at him through her long lashes and low eyes, when she had him halfway back in the back of her throat. Coughing, gagging, eyes watery and red, but she still managed to hold that mockingly innocent gaze with him. Her hands nuzzled in the thin material of the strip lingerie she wore for him, vigorously rubbing away at her hard clit. Pleasing him, pleased her—and all that shit pleased him.
"Fuuuuckkk," he'd grunt, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as she fucked her own throat on his dick, almost like she was eager to taste all of him, her tongue swiping the underside of his dick as she eagerly took all of him. Her almost violent gagging and choking seemed to not deter her in the slightest, and it definitely hadn't deterred him either. Both his hands cradling the back of her head as he fucked himself into her throat, his own brows furrowed, lips parted as his grunts and groans seemed to follow one after another, eyes boring into hers. The feeling of the tightness of her throat, around him was unmatched. The way she did this shit like she had no regard for him was unmatched. Breathing clearly didn't matter to Houston. The hardwood flooring underneath them had collected a puddle of the saliva that seemed to pool out of her mouth and off of him, in the process.
"Fuckkk, imma nut! Imma nut, bae—jus' like that!" He rushed out, breathless and slurred. His hips stilling, but she never stopped taking him in, fucking her own throat once again, she looked up at him. His own eyes, slowly falling closed as she kept up her volatile movements.
"Mhm," she hummed on his dick, her blurred vision taking him in earnestly, her own fingers slipping inside her hole once again as she watched his facial expressions hungrily, as she brung him over the edge. The loud, groans queuing her to his orgasm, she pulled back from him with a loud pop. A growing smile on her lips as she stroked him off over her face, the warm ropes of cum painting her face just as she liked. What a messy girl she was, indeed.
She was the best at that shit.
But then again, she was the best at everything. She was definitely the best at doggystyle. Her face pressed into the cushioning of her sofa, his fingers squeezing and kneading the meaty flesh of her hips as she sat on her knees, ass perfectly arched up for him. Tip pressing against the spongy spot that caused the slight trembling in her thighs, and those deep gasping breaths to leave her mouth. Her hands flying up to the arm of the couch to gain leverage to slam back against him, her ass ricocheting off his pelvis with loud plaps. He'd run his thumb over the small butterfly tattoo etched into the skin right on the top of her ass.
"Don't run," he'd coach firmly, his voice stern hands growing tighter around her waist, his knees following hers, a harsh slap to her ass following his words, "don't fuckin' run. I can't get in that shit?" He'd ask over her whimpers.
"Yesssss," she'd slut out loudly, his stern voice and harsh slaps always put her back into motion, taking it like he knew she could.
"Right there, right there, right there!" She'd urgently call out, voice shaky and strained. "Right there, baby! I'm bout to cum, daddy!" Her whimpered voice muffled by Terry pushing her face down into the cushions, his focus solely on hitting against the spot, she repeatedly referred to.
"Where it's at?" He'd mutter, the lingerie of her little strip tease outfit now bunched around her waist, in his grasp as he used it as more leverage to thrust into her. "Where it's at, baby?" He'd ask again when he received no proper response from her, just her inaudible babbling and squealing moans.
"It's right there, daddy!"
"Give it to me then," he coolly replied hand roughly slapping at against her reddening brown skin, "give that shit to daddy, paint my dick. Lemme see it," he'd coax her orgasm right out of her, with her erratic breathing and faltering limbs.
Houston was also the best at missionary. And she didn't even have to do anything in this position, she just always looked so pretty and dazed. Mouth agape, eyes soft and low, darting back and forth between Terry's gaze, and his dick slipping in and out of her slick pussy. Her loud guttural moans would follow behind Terry's soft groans, his hands placed steadily on the back on her thighs, his knees allowing him to steadily drop dick in her. Her walls squeezing around him tighter and breathing hindering, every time he went just a little too deep.
She always looked too good in this position. His hands clamped tightly around her neck, he'd watch the color in her face tint to red. "You wanna breathe don't you? Yeah? Squirt on my dick then, show me how bad you wanna breathe. Show me that shit." He'd taunt, his dick roughly plowing into her, he'd watch with complete adoration as her eyes rolled back, her chest heaving, no sound leaving her lips but he strained breathing as he neared her orgasm. No sound would alert him, just her juices spurting out of her wildly, drenching her lower tummy and thighs, as well as his.
Or maybe she was the best at riding. Balancing her weight on the tips of her toes, her hands fisting the top of the couch on either side of him, strings of sticky arousal from her pussy connected the two, as she milked him up and down with loud sticky plaps. His thumbs and pointer fingers tweaking with her pierced, sensitive mounds. Pulling and pinching at her nipples as he muttered, lewd phrases and exploitative words against the flesh of her neck.
"You gon nut?" He'd ask her at the same time. Watching her nod eagerly over a series of moans. He'd slap against her cheek firmly, not quite satisfied with her non-verbal response. "You gon nut?" He'd ask again.
"Yesss!" She'd cry out, nodding vigorously, big brown eyes brimming with tears, the tightness in her belly threatening to burst open.
"Nah you ain't," he'd reply, eyes staring into hers so casually as if he wasn't having her plow herself onto his dick for his pleasure, "you been cummin' all night. It's my turn."
"Look at you fuckin' yourself on my dick," he tsk'd, his hand coming up once again to firmly slap against her cheek, "you ain't gon tell nobody about this right? Bout how you bein' such a lil easy bitch on my dick, makin' a mess. You ain't gon tell nobody?"
"No, daddy!" She'd stammer out through hindered breaths and broken moans. Her eyes slowly falling open as she continue to fuck herself on his dick, he was making her edge herself, and the shit felt torturous.
"Jus' like that, baby," he'd praise, hands dropping to knead both her ass cheeks as she rode him, "make me nut. Make me nut in this pussy." Hand leaving a series of hard echoing snacks there, until he came deep inside her.
Houston knew exactly what she was doing.
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Hope you enjoyed, Houston! <3
tag list: @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @nickidub718 @keehendrixx @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @b2hotty @partypoison00 @grooveoftiro @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @dxddykenn @motheroffae @kaylaahisthebestest- @hello-therree
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sprintingowl · 9 months ago
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Deadball
Deadball Second Edition is a platinum bestseller on DrivethruRPG. This means it's in the top 2% of all products on the site. Its back cover has an endorsement from Sports Illustrated Kids.
It's also not an rpg I'd heard about until I discovered all of these facts one after another.
I was raised in a profoundly anti-sports household. My father would say stuff like "sports is for people who can't think" and "there's no point in exercising, everything in your body goes away eventually." So I didn't learn really any of the rules of the more popular American sports until I was in my mid twenties, and I've been to two ballgames in my life. I appreciate the enthusiasm that people have for sports, but it's in the same way that I appreciate anyone talking about their specific fandom.
One of the things that struck me reading Deadball was its sense of reverence for the sport. Its language isn't flowery. It's plain and technical and smart. But its love for baseball radiates off of the pages. Not like a blind adoration. But like when a dog sits with you on the porch.
For folks familiar with indie rpgs, there's a tone throughout the book that feels OSR. Deadball doesn't claim to be a precise simulation or a baseball wargame or anything like that---instead it lays out a bunch of rules and then encourages you to treat them like a recipe, adjusting to your taste. And it does this *while* being a detailed simulation that skirts the line of wargaming, which is an extremely OSR thing to do.
For folks not familiar with baseball, Deadball starts off assuming you know nothing and it explains the core rules of the sport before trying to pin dice and mechanics onto anything. It also explains baseball notation (which I was not able to decipher) and it uses this notation to track a play-by-play report of each game. Following this is an example of play and---in a move I think more rpgs should steal from---it has you play out a few rounds of this example of play. Again, this is all before it's really had a section explaining its rules.
In terms of characters and stats, Deadball is a detailed game. You can play modern or early 1900s baseball, and players can be of any gender on the same team, so there's a sort of alt history flavor to the whole experience, but there's also an intricate dice roll for every at bat and a full list of complex baseball feats that any character can have alongside their normal baseball stats. Plus there's a full table for oddities (things not normally covered by the rules of baseball, such as a raccoon straying onto the field and attacking a pitcher,) and a whole fatigue system for pitchers that contributes a strong sense of momentum to the game.
Deadball is also as much about franchises as it is about individual games, and you can also scout players, trade players, track injuries, track aging, appoint managers of different temperaments, rest pitchers in between games, etc.
For fans of specific athletes, Deadball includes rules for creating players, for playing in different eras, for adapting historical greats into one massively achronological superteam, and for playing through two different campaigns---one in a 2020s that wasn't and one in the 1910s.
There's also thankfully a simplified single roll you can use to abstract an entire game, allowing you to speed through seasons and potentially take a franchise far into the future. Finances and concession sales and things like that aren't tracked, but Deadball has already had a few expansions and a second edition, so this might be its next frontier.
Overall, my takeaway from Deadball is that it's a heck of a game. It's a remarkably detailed single or multiplayer simulation that I think might work really well for play-by-post (you could get a few friends to form a league and have a whole discord about it,) and it could certainly be used to generate some Blaseball if you start tweaking the rules as you play and never stop.
It's also an interesting read from a purely rpg design perspective. Deadball recognizes that its rules have the potential to be a little overbearing and so it puts in lots of little checks against that. It also keeps its more complex systems from sprawling out of control by trying to pack as much information as possible into a single dice roll.
For someone like me who has zero background in baseball, I don't think I'd properly play Deadball unless I had a bunch of friends who were into it and I could ride along with that enthusiasm. However as a designer I like the book a lot, and I'm putting it on my shelf of rpgs that have been formative for me, alongside Into The Odd, Monsterhearts, Mausritter, and Transit.
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http-shield · 7 months ago
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you offering?- bucky barnes unhinged!avenger reader x bucky
a/n: this was the first draft of smash (in a loving way) which is why some lines are the same.
Moving day swiftly degenerated into chaos as more and more boxes were unloaded from the truck. Theoretically, Steve and Bucky should not have that many possessions, seeing as neither of them had lived very long lives in the new century; however, as box after box is carried in, you realise you couldn't be further off base.
Steve shouts down the hall, alerting you of their arrival (having smacked headfirst into you with a box full of record hours earlier, you had developed the system of very loudly announcing yourselves before walking into narrow spaces). You turn to the hallway, ready to semi-jokingly tell Steve off for all the free labour he had managed to squeeze of you, but your brain short circuits as Bucky walks in. The long-sleeved shirt had turned up in has long since been discarded. Instead, he is sporting a black tank top showcasing a stunning display of his muscled arms and shoulders. Unable to look away, you follow the veins along muscled forearms, sweat glistening in the afternoon sun, vibranium fingers humming as they glide over the tops of the box, his hair pulled back in a bun sitting low at the nape of his neck and those godforsaken strands that hang over his eyes leave you thinking about the way they would feel brushing over your thighs.
"You're drooling." You jump, startled by Steve's amused whisper, as he stands behind you, cast iron pot in his hands.
"Ha.Ha." The retort is weak, mind too preoccupied with thoughts of your friend to conjure a coherent sentence.
"Seriously. You gotta bit'a...." Steve wipes the side of his mouth with his thumb, smirk growing as he continues to tease.
"You need to get outta here before I punch you in the face." you whirl on him, warning through clenched teeth. "I will fight you, old man."
He backs away, raising his hands in defeat. "Kids these days, can't take a joke."
-----
An Ikea flatpack sits on the floor of the living room. The name and instructions unreadable as the three of your stare a the unbuilt couch frame.
"You bought a box?" Bucky turns to Steve, brows raised as he gestures to the floor.
"It's a sofa, Buck. We just need to build it." the former sighs, crouching down to examine the slip of paper it came with. "We just need to learn Swedish."
Bucky follows suit and squats, grumbling something about knowing 30 languages but unable to put together a stupid piece of furniture.
You debate joining them, adding a new brain to the equation, but as if it were your turn to take that single cell passed between the three of you, you reach for your laptop and begin your search.
30 minutes later, the frame is complete. The cushions, however, are nowhere to be found.
"Did you not order them?" you ask, eyes still trained on the screen as the two super soldiers stare at the incomplete project.
"I didn't know I was meant to!" Steve is quick to defend his mistake. "If you buy the couch, it comes with it."
It's not a completely irrational thought. It's common sense really. You buy a couch it must come with cushions, so why didn't this one?
Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So we have one bed and couch frame? Where am I meant to sleep, Steve?"
"You can sleep with me." You mumble as you scroll through ikea website, searching for the accompanying pillows.
"Is that you offering?" Bucky asks, and for a second, you are confused by the question, but as you look up from the screen, you find both men staring at you. Ah, the super hearing caused by the super serum. Super.
"Offering what?" you play dumb, biting down on the tip of your thumb, hoping he can't hear your heart slamming in your chest.
"Just thought you were offerin' to have me sleep with you but I guess I heard wrong." Bucky smirks and shrugs. "Guess ill have to take all this " he begins to flex, making an obvious show of his muscles. "and sleep on the floor."
You bite down on your finger in a futile attempt to hide the smile that is forming. "Guess so."
Bucky frowns, sad, wide puppy eyes staring at you. "Come on, doll. Don't make me beg."
Heat flashes through you and your heart picks up speed again. "You can beg for it, Barnes, doesn't mean I'll let ya' " your voice shakes a little, but you can hide it behind a smug chuckle.
Bucky's tongue darts out to wet his lips as he begins to retort but Steve's cough stops you both. The Captain's face is crinkled in disgust as he stares.
"Could you save this till I'm not in the room?"
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qaheaccreditation · 2 years ago
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mydearestbeloved · 8 months ago
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Chapter 1 [Draft]
Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader
CW: All hail traumatized Reader.
Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”
[Masterlist🦋✨️]
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The first thing you felt, opening your eyes, was confusion. You weren’t in your room anymore. Sunlight streamed through enormous stone pillars, bathing lush, towering vines and strange, vibrant flowers in a golden hue. The air was warm and fragrant, thick with the scent of damp earth.
But then came the second realization. You looked down, and your heart nearly stopped. Your hands were tiny, smaller than they’d been since childhood. You touched your face and arms, half in disbelief. You were in your body… or some version of it. And young.
That’s when the screen appeared before your eyes, hovering like a digital ghost.
[Welcome, Trial Player.]
The words glowed, taking a moment to sink in as reality wove itself together in a tangled mess of memories and feelings. Trial player?
You tried to call out, tried to make sense of it, but before you could, another line appeared.
[You have been selected to test this system.]
You exhaled slowly, swallowing back the panic that was building in your chest. “This has to be some kind of mistake,” you whispered, though you doubted anyone was listening. You knew what the system was, in theory. This was the same one that would one day be given to Sung Jinwoo, but there was something… off. This was not exactly how you remembered it from the manhwa.
[Your task: Survive, learn, and master the system.]
The words disappeared, leaving you standing alone, feeling like a newborn in a strange, hostile world.
---
The first few days were terrifying, every new experience both a revelation and a potential death sentence. You had no weapons, no training, and no idea what you were up against. For the first time in your life, you understood the gravity of true danger. Every rustling leaf or distant growl put your heart in your throat.
On the third day, a mission screen appeared.
[Daily Mission: Survive in the Gardens. Reward: 1000 EXP.]
“Survive,” you muttered dryly. “Thanks for the reminder.” You swiped the screen away, hoping that would somehow give you more clarity, but it only left you alone with the dense, humid silence of the garden.
Later that day, you stumbled upon what you’d initially thought was an oddly shaped log—until it moved. A giant serpent, its scales glistening, slithered forward, venom dripping from its fangs as it studied you with hungry eyes.
Pure instinct took over. You scrambled for anything you could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. Just your hands. As the snake lunged, something surged within you—warm, pulsing energy—your first brush with the power of healing. You didn’t know how you did it, only that it seemed to pour out of you.
The serpent’s movements grew sluggish, then frantic, as if something was going horribly wrong inside of it. Its scales began to bubble, and it convulsed before collapsing. You gasped for air, heart pounding, as the system screen appeared.
[You have discovered a unique ability: Healing Resonance.]
A “unique ability” indeed. You were horrified, stunned. Healing, but one that twisted life into death. Your first kill was as much a shock as a victory, and as you watched the system flash “EXP Gained,” you felt no thrill. Just numbness.
---
After days of testing the system, you quickly discovered that it was far different than the one described in the manhwa. Instead of the narrow focus on fighting, the system offered skills that were surprisingly... domestic. It felt more like a casual RPG than the cutthroat power-chasing game you’d expected.
“Learning, cooking, crafting?” you muttered, swiping through a menu that displayed an endless list of skills—farming, forging, language... the works.
[Your feedback is appreciated.]
The screen popped up just as you were gnawing on a piece of hard bread you’d somehow managed not to burn to ash. A feedback column appeared below, and you felt a strange thrill—if you could actually shape how this system worked, maybe you could make a difference. You started typing, ideas flowing faster than you could think them through.
Feedback 1: Focus on combat-related skills. Simplify stats for non-combat abilities.
When you pressed submit, the system chimed.
[Under review for final version.]
“Guess that’s all I can do for now,” you sighed, leaning back and staring at the list. You wouldn’t have minded the extra skills so much, except that every single one required you to “grind” by using it repeatedly. Which, in theory, was fine. In practice? Not so much.
Your first few attempts at cooking, for instance, had been… catastrophic. Who knew it was even possible to burn a boiled egg to a crisp? At least it still gave you experience points, but the system wasn’t exactly forgiving. Each skill was tied to a particular stat and vice versa, so for example, to raise Intelligence, you had to keep grinding away at reading, alchemy, crafting, and other mentally demanding tasks.
Then there was Learning, the one skill that seemed to tie everything together. It leveled up whenever you worked on other skills, making them just a fraction easier each time you made an attempt. Slowly, you felt the difference—your fingers became nimbler at crafting, your reading comprehension shot up, and even basic fighting maneuvers didn’t leave you bruised as often.
You sent in feedback about this too, suggesting that leveling up should provide points you could apply to any stat you wished.
[Under review. Changes considered for the final version.]
With each suggestion, the system stayed silent for a moment, as if it was actually thinking it over.
“Are you alive in there?” you asked, half-joking. But there was no response. Just silence.
---
The day you found the abandoned library was the first stroke of true luck you’d had since arriving. Of course, it had come with its own challenges—a plant-beast had nearly mauled you at the entrance. Your solution? A shard of broken glass, some sunlight, and sheer desperation. After you’d torched the creature, you barely had the strength to drag yourself inside, clutching your bleeding arm.
Inside, towering bookshelves covered in dust stretched into the shadows. You felt your pulse quicken—knowledge. In a world where you felt powerless, here was a place where you could gain some edge.
The first book you picked up was written in a strange language. As you stared at the unfamiliar symbols, another screen popped up.
[New Skill accessed: Reading. Level 1.]
You let out a laugh, maybe half from exhaustion, half from sheer disbelief. The reading skill allowed you to comprehend the text faster, though it started painfully slow. Still, as you worked through the book, something strange happened.
[New Skill accessed: Language. Level 1.]
The words were no longer entirely foreign. It took hours, but by the end, you had a basic grasp. After spending weeks working on other skills, you returned to study another language and found it easier than before.
“Thank you,” you muttered aloud, genuinely grateful to the system. You weren’t one to talk to thin air, but sometimes it felt like someone, or something, was there.
For the first time, the system responded, offering you an EXP boost for several skills at once.
“You’re feeling generous today,” you said. The system flashed without a word, but something about its silent response felt… thoughtful, almost. You knew it was impossible, but a sense of familiarity nagged at you.
---
As days bled into weeks, and weeks into months, survival became both an instinct and a grueling grind. Food was scarce, rations stretched thin. Every meal was a gamble—could you avoid poisoning yourself this time? Or would you suffer another failed attempt at cooking?
The creatures that roamed the Gardens were relentless. You’d nearly died several times, if not for a combination of sheer luck, your healing power, and a dormant instinct to survive that you hadn’t known was there. Fighting without real experience was an endless, punishing lesson, and the system had yet to assign you a class. But your healing powers were something you clung to, despite their double-edged nature.
Without them, you would have been left scarred and broken, bleeding from too many wounds to count. The system kept pushing you, relentlessly.
The deeper you went into the mysteries of this world, the more questions you had. Why were you here? Why you? The system itself, sometimes silent, sometimes so alive, only deepened the enigma. You couldn’t shake the feeling that being a beta tester wasn’t the full reason you’d been pulled into this reality.
But for now, you pushed the questions aside, bottling them up in a corner of your mind. Survival was the priority. If you made it out of these Gardens, if you gained enough strength, maybe one day you’d find the answers.
But until then, your only choice was to endure.
-----
Another day, another tight squeeze of survival. You were hidden under a rocky overhang, just out of sight, nibbling on unfamiliar roots and mushrooms you’d scavenged. Every bite was a gamble, a game of Russian roulette that determined whether you’d gain a bit of strength or be wracked with cramps, nausea, or worse.
"Come on, poison resistance,” you muttered to yourself, half-prayer, half-exasperation. Every new toxic bite, every close call, edged you closer to a skill level that might one day make these random edibles manageable.
The system pinged softly with an update.
[System Patch: Skill Cap Increase Applied. Unlocked Sub-Skills for Advanced Development.]
You let out a long sigh. So *that* was why skills maxed out so fast before. Every time you thought you’d mastered something, the ceiling just got higher. Now, skills you thought were perfected were open again for leveling, and any new experience points would feed back into their growth. Until you could level up again, the system would keep exchanging your experience for supplies—something that had kept you from starving more than once already.
But the sub-skills, the “updates,” had you intrigued. You’d noticed subtle effects of higher skill levels before, like how cooking had become more than just a way to sustain yourself. Now, you could create dishes that eased your fatigue or provided a bit of health. Forging was the same—your makeshift weapons had become a little sharper, a little stronger, and now, you could upgrade the stats of items that had already been made. Each skill was branching out into new possibilities.
But your progress slowed as the demands of survival grew harsher. Rations were limited, and you felt each calorie burned in your daily mission drills. The exhaustion crept into your bones, each strike of your makeshift spear against the thick-skinned creatures that roamed these grounds adding to the deepening ache. Just survive, you told yourself. The system seemed to listen, pushing you further than you ever thought you could go.
---
After months of grueling routine, the day came when the system presented a new challenge: the job-change quest. You knew what this meant. You’d read the manhwa a hundred times, could remember every detail of Jinwoo’s struggle. You expected a hard fight, but even then, you weren’t prepared for the reality—a Hydra.
When you first saw it, slithering out from the darkness, its scales glistening with a sickly, iridescent sheen, your breath caught. A single head was bad enough, but the Hydra had seven, each one dripping venom. Its eyes gleamed with a deadly intelligence as it circled, blocking any path of escape. You gripped your spear, willing yourself to be brave.
Stay calm. Think.
“Alright,” you whispered to yourself. “I just have to get it to bleed out… if I can even scratch it.”
The Hydra lunged. You sidestepped just as one head lashed out, venom spraying onto the rocks where you’d stood, sizzling with acidic fury. Your muscles burned as you darted away, barely managing to keep up with its movements. Every time you managed to wound it, its flesh began to knit together again, each laceration closing with terrifying speed.
Think. What did the library say?
The words from a musty old anatomy text swam back to you. The main poison sac, near the heart. You didn’t even know if you could reach it, but it was your only chance. As the Hydra coiled again, you let instinct take over, dodging its strikes until an opportunity appeared.
You gripped your spear tight, channeling every bit of magic into it, then aimed for the base of one of its necks. You struck hard, hoping to wound it enough to reach that poison sac.
Your powers flared unexpectedly, the reptile’s scales near the wound blackened as though they were aging, decomposing under your hands. It shrieked, flesh blistering as your magic intensified. The effect rippled through its body, slowing the regenerative process that had given it the upper hand. You sliced again, faster, your heart pounding, forcing your powers to speed up this, this decay. As you worked, you became aware of something strange—the Hydra’s flesh was rotting beneath your touch, its venom sac swelling under its own poison as it struggled to keep up with your relentless onslaught.
It took everything you had. With a final push, you drove your spear into the Hydra’s chest, deep enough to rupture the venom sac. The poison surged through its body, overwhelming its regenerative abilities. Its massive body convulsed, seven heads thrashing in agony, then slumped to the ground with a heavy finality.
You sank to the ground, gasping, drenched in sweat, your muscles shaking with exhaustion. Blood seeped from a gash on your arm, a painful reminder of the battle. Dark patches spread across your skin where venom had touched, a lingering ache warning you that your body was still working to purify it.
“System,” you rasped, half-delirious. “You’d better give me something worth it.”
A screen popped up in response, and you felt a weak grin pull at your lips.
[Job Quest Complete. New Class Obtained: Mage-Healer.]
Your heart pounded in your chest. Mage-Healer? You’d expected a standard healer class, something that suited your healing ability, but a hybrid class? That hadn’t been part of the original story. As the notification faded, a new title appeared beneath your class:
[New Title Earned: “Dreamer and Chronomancer, She”]
“Chronomancer…?” you whispered, the words tasting strange on your tongue.
Exhaustion weighed on you, but curiosity tugged at the edges of your mind. You remembered the way the Hydra’s wounds had slowed, how its regeneration seemed to freeze under your touch. It all clicked into place. Cellular death. Your healing wasn’t merely about restoring life—it was time itself, bending to your will. And the magic you wielded, the strange power that left the serpent dying on the first day you arrived, wasn’t just about healing either. You had boosted its venom production until it ruptured on itself, just as you had done now.
But what about ‘Dreamer’?
Your thoughts were interrupted by a faint chime from the system.
[Learning Skill: New Sub-Skill Unlocked.]
The notification sparked your curiosity, but the words on the screen blurred before your eyes. The poison was still in your system, and you could feel the fever building. As you closed your eyes to focus on healing, the faint ache from the venom made your body shiver.
When you opened your eyes again, a vision—a faint shimmer—hovered over your eye as your gaze fell on the Hydra’s lifeless body. It was a tiny magic circle, seemingly clicked in place when it found its target. Knowledge flooded into your mind, unfamiliar and clear, as if the system itself was feeding you answers. You could use the Hydra’s remains. Its venom, its scales… everything was a resource, a tool. With careful handling, they could be transformed into potions, armor, even enchanted weapons. You smiled, exhausted but exhilarated. If you’d gotten this far, there was no limit to what you could achieve.
“You know what, system?” you murmured, feeling a strange connection to the silent guide in your head. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”
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End Note:
Unedited Draft of [08/10/2024] - Chronicles of The Hanging Gardens, Part I
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matrix-fairy · 10 months ago
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Divine Talent
In the Matrix Destiny chart, I will be sharing a thread about the talent arcana energies, which is the position you most frequently ask about. The spot marked with X on the map is what we call divine talent, which represents the talents your soul is inherently born with in this life.
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1 - You have many ideas and can generate ideas easily. When activated positively, you have the potential to succeed in whatever you touch.
2 - You can understand other people's motivations, that is, you can grasp why they do what they do at a glance. This gives you esoteric abilities.
3 - You have a good taste and a high sense of aesthetics. You have the ability to expand; you can turn a small task into big projects.
4 - You excel in team management and establishing authority. You have a strong talent for attracting money. If money isn’t coming to you, it means you are activating this area negatively.
5 - You have a talent for learning and teaching. You can master anything and explain everything you know in a way the other side can understand.
6 - Your communication skills and sincerity stand out. You are someone people come to for advice, trust what you say, and listen to your words.
7 - You have the ability to progress quickly in any job, reach your desired goals, and inspire change in both yourself and those around you.
8 - It's hard, if not impossible, for others to lie to you. You can approach everything objectively. You can achieve balance and harmony.
9 - You are more mature than your age, and this grants you wisdom. You have the ability to achieve your inner goals (knowing yourself, realizing your dreams and desires) on your own.
10 - This is a placement that brings luck. You have the talent to manage finances easily and spot profitable opportunities. You can easily attract people to yourself.
11 - Your physical and spiritual endurance is strong. You can do everything at once. You know your strengths and can use them in the most accurate way.
12 - Spiritual practices (like meditation, breathing, reiki) work well for you and have healing effects when applied to others. You have a different perspective and can solve seemingly unsolvable problems.
13 - You can make the necessary changes in every area of life and are not afraid to take risks. You can learn multiple things at once. You have the ability to easily absorb deep and detailed information.
14 - You have diplomacy and mediation skills. You can calm conflicts and maintain your composure during these processes.
15 - By opening yourself to others, you can show them what they cannot see in themselves. You can easily identify others' weaknesses, vulnerabilities, and talents.
16 - You are talented in directing people, organizing, and creating strategies. You can foresee events and chart your course accordingly.
17 - Your ability to express yourself is unique and creative. You can be the center of attention in any field you wish, shine, and stand out from the crowd.
18 - Your subconscious is very powerful. You may receive information through dreams, and your dreams may come true. Your manifesting ability is strong; everything you visualize can come into your life.
19 - You have leadership qualities and can inspire/give strength to others for success. You have the ability to not give up no matter what.
20 - You have good speaking skills and can influence masses. You can create systems from nothing and have excellent analytical skills. It's hard to confuse you.
21 - You have an aptitude for foreign languages and cultures. You can adapt to any environment. You can produce knowledge and content for a wide audience or listener base.
22 - Your decisions and thoughts may be unpredictable by those around you. You influence people with your positive energy. You can turn every tough task into fun and achieve results that will surprise everyone.
Book a reading with me 🎀
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thick-monster-thighs · 7 days ago
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Warlord Yautja/Reader; An Act of Revenge
Title: An Act of Revenge Rating: Explicit Fandom: Predator: Killer of Killers Ship: Warlord Predator/Grendel King (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader Word Count: 7,4k Warnings: Dubcon, canon typical violence, knifeplay >> Warlord series Part 01 Author Note: This is the first part of this fic. The whole work is up on AO3! :)
The Hkr'Rcho is an enormous ship. It's so big that it's easy to get lost in its many corridors, especially if you can't read the Yautja language signs. If someone were to get stuck on a clan ship like the Hkr'Rcho without knowing the language or culture of this species, they'd be in serious trouble. Well, sucks to be you! Your karma must be pretty bad considering how the last six months have gone.
You're lying on your back, staring at the ceiling, bopping one foot up and down, which is resting on your bent knee. As always, the constant hum of the ship's engines and the omnipresent heat on board this ship almost lull you into a light sleep. Humidity also creeps into every corner of the Hkr'Rcho, even the Warlord's quarters. As you quickly learned, he's the leader of an entire clan of warriors.
And you? You're the pet.  
The exploding collar has been replaced by an invisible leash that is more effective than anything else – there's no way off this ship. Even if you manage to sneak out of your lord and master's quarters unnoticed, the route to the shuttle bay is lined with Yautja warriors who recognise you and know who you belong to. You've been caught and brought back more than once, locked in his quarters and left to stew like a roast.
The imposing Warchief isn't stupid. He knows he can punish you physically — and he does so occasionally — but the boredom and waiting are far worse. Being confined to his quarters with nothing but the sound of the engine and the occasional passing of a new solar system for days on end is enough to drive a person crazy. It's like solitary confinement when he decides to punish you for misbehaving. Even your food is hurriedly thrown into the room before the door is locked again.
He's not stupid. He quickly figured out how to make you furious, how to make you behave. Although being the Warlord's pet has its advantages, it's also a double-edged sword. Hey, on the one hand, you are well fed and clothed, and truly safe from the horrors of space.
The Yautja's diet mainly consists of meat, often even raw or severely undercooked, but they make sure you get exotic fruits and vegetables. In your position as the leader's favourite, they ensure you are fit for your rank. Considering that you have to endure the chief's needs, you need to be well fed. Being mounted by a 350 kg alien warrior is as dangerous as an extreme sport, if not more so.
And you are dressed in high-quality Yautja clothing. The revealing attire definitely shows off your body – you may not have an eight-pack, but the hearty food means the skimpy clothing fits. Not that it would be of much use when the Warlord returns from a hunt or a successful arena tournament. The fabric is no match for his claws and the hunger of the highly decorated warrior from Yautja Prime. On this ship and in this ongoing situation, it's truly a case of give and take: you've never lived in such luxury before. As a Weyland-Yutani employee, you were paid a meagre wage, given tiny food rations and your life was worth less than the cargo you transported. Under Weyland-Yutani, there were no richly decorated clothes resembling Yautja scales and no sweet, juicy fruit to make your mouth water.
All you have to do is serve the Warlord. You're his pet, his toy and his concubine. You are both his slave and his mate. His scent clings to you, signalling to every other Yautja on this ship that you are out of bounds. Bowing down to the muscle-bound warrior is the price you pay for living in luxury. Should you dare to rebel against him, he will be only too happy to show you who's boss. He has grabbed and taken you by force more than once, but you would be lying if you said you didn't get a strangely erotic kick out of it. Sometimes you act a little more rebellious than you really are because that's what gets him going.
But no matter how you look at it, you share your bed with a brutal killing machine. Truth be told, you don't really like him. This isn't romance; it's a state of affairs. In this tactical game, you're not an equal opponent, but an object: a pet monkey dancing for the Warlord to laugh at. He can throw you across the room and onto the bed with one hand while he loosens his belt with the other. He knows you watch him every time he takes off his armour. He knows you want him.
His bed, a collection of furs — also trophies — is soft and inviting; huge, it beckons you to rest and laze around. Most of the time, you lie bored on this nest of trophies, covered in the Warlord's and your own scent, and the memory of all the times he bent you over and brutally took what he wanted. It's always associated with pain in some way, but when you think about it, you feel a hot tingling sensation running up the inside of your thighs. It's not just bad. One thing you quickly learn on a Yautja clan ship is that violent sex is normal for these warriors. It's not at all uncommon for them to fight in the corridors and then have sex, sinking into each other with claws and tusks amid blood and bodily fluids. Sex isn't considered good unless there are open wounds or broken bones, and the females often put up a fierce fight. If you take these fights as a yardstick, you're actually being treated relatively gently - this is probably because you break more easily than a Yautja warrior. Don't wanna break the new toy, right? While you're brooding in frustration and thinking that you could escape through the air vents again if necessary, you hear heavy footsteps approaching. From far away, you can hear battle cries growing louder and echoing through the ship like a dark choir. Great — the hunting party is back. That means the annoying part of this situation is about to begin. No matter what one might think about the Yautja, a successful hunt is always celebrated extensively. Contrary to all expectations, these people definitely know how to party: they drink sour, high-proof wine and dine as befits great warriors. There are fights, songs and more fights. A good Yautja party doesn't end until someone is seriously injured. Not that you'd ever be invited to something like that, though. The door opens and, from the thunderous footsteps in the hallway, you already knew 30 seconds ago that your owner was returning to his quarters. The Warlord is as impressive as ever, though now he's covered with blood and has several fresh wounds on his upper body and arm. As the door hisses shut behind him, he doesn't even glance at you. Instead, he places his bone axe among the many other trophies adorning the room.
It's a game. A test. Another way to humiliate you.
He doesn't deign to greet or even acknowledge you when he returns to his quarters from a hunt. You never take your gaze off his body, out of pure caution, and he knows it. This makes him even more eager to put on a show, carefully placing new hunting trophies on the wall or in a corner. He takes his time, occasionally making quiet growling and clicking noises as though humming to himself in a relaxed manner. Meanwhile, you're tense, like nervous prey waiting to be pounced on by a predator.
Next, he takes off his heavy bone coat. This trophy, consisting of xenomorph skeletons, is ridiculously heavy. You could only lift it on your own if you put all your strength into it. He, on the other hand, moves smoothly and gracefully, even with this imposing adornment. He moves his massive body with a robust elegance that lulls you into a false sense of security all too often. Good-looking, is the word that forms in your brain when you look at him. His muscles glisten in the soft light of the room, making you clench your teeth in anger. You're only too happy to convince yourself that this is pure survival instinct. This physical attraction to the Warlord is your brain's desperate attempt to twist this terrible, traumatic situation into something bearable so that you suffer as little long-term damage as possible. Of course, there are often cases where hostages are attracted to their captors. This is obviously just another such case. Or ist it?
>>> Continue on AO3
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archangeldyke-all · 4 months ago
Note
POLYGLOT SEVIKA IS SO REAL TO ME
do u ever think she'll say idioms from another language that doesnt really work in english? like imagine overhearing her say "he's fart" when in her head she knows she's calling someone really drunk but the saying really only works in spanish, y'know?
this actually made me laugh out loud lmfaooo
men and minors dni
sevika grew up in a multi-lingual house. her mother spoke spanish, her father spoke hindi, and to one another they spoke in english.
by the time she was entering school, she was fluent in three languages. her little brain was so flexible and she loved learning so much that she took to new languages like a fish takes to water.
she excelled in her mandarin classes; while most students were struggling with the pinyin system, she was flying through the textbook and studying hanzi in her free time.
the little boy next door to her growing up spoke arabic with his family, and she picked up on the language with ease after years of playdates and shared dinners. that combined with her hindi meant that when an urdu speaking student joined her class in the third grade, she was able to act as a translator for them.
in high school she gets a job at a little mom and pop shop. the old couple who own it speak russian to each other, constantly yelling across the tiny store at one another. three months into the job, sevika finds herself cursing people out with slavic curses she didn't even know she knew.
so sevika grew up speaking a lot of languages. and she learned most of them through practical, every day use; not through textbooks and school. she's got a lot of sayings buried deep in her mind that she doesn't even remember learning, and sometimes, they don't always come out in the right language.
"aunt sev, did'ya know that i can do ten cartwheels in a row?" jinx asks as she hauls herself into sevika's lap.
sevika lets out a long sigh as she pushes her reading glasses into her hair and closes her book, turning her attention to her god-daughter. "wow." she mumbles tiredly. you chuckle from your chair.
"uh-huh! and i can do six back flips."
sevika snorts. "sure you can, kid."
"and i can dunk a basketball!"
sevika laughs. "okay, now you're hanging noodles on my ear." she says.
you snort from your spot. "she's doing what?" you ask.
sevika giggles. "shit, that's supposed to be in russian. veshat lapshu na ushi. y'know, like, uh... you're trying to trick me."
you giggle. "hanging noodles on your ear, huh?"
her little slip ups happen more frequently when she's tired.
"how was your day, sevi-bear?" you ask as you crawl into bed beside your girlfriend.
"ah. onions and honey, y'know." she mumbles.
you freeze, racking your brain to figure out what the hell she's talking about. you can't manage. "what?" you ask.
sevika blinks at you. "one day honey, one day onions, y'know?"
"so... you were having weird cravings?"
sevika laughs. "no, no, shit, i used the wrong language again."
you giggle. "what's it supposed to sound like?" you ask. you adore the sound of sevika's voice, regardless of if you can understand her or not.
"yom asal, wa yom basal. 's arabic." she whispers. you smile.
"your voice is like honey." you say. she snorts and leans forward to kiss you.
her mix-ups also happen when she's flustered.
"d-do you like it?" you whisper shyly.
sevika blinks at you, her eyes wide as she takes in your appearance. you've decided to surprise her tonight, buying a special set of sexy undies just for her.
"holy shit. you're beautiful." she whispers. you giggle.
"i read online that this color clashes with my skintone--"
"what do monkeys know of the taste of ginger, my love? you're gorgeous."
you burst into giggles. "sev-- what?!" you cackle.
she giggles and shakes her head. "bandar kya jaane adrak da swaad, fuck what those internet losers say, baby."
you're cut off from asking more questions by sevika's lips crushed against yours.
your favorite of all her slip ups happened when she was drunk.
you woke up to a thump in your home.
"sev?" you call. you can hear her giggling from the living room. you crawl out of bed and into the living room, laughing when you find your girl toppled over and struggling with her boots. "how was poker night?" you laugh as you bend over to help untie her shoes for her. sevika grins at you, wiggling to try to pull you onto the floor with her.
"baby. 'm so fart right now."
you blink, then sniff the air. "i don't smell anything, baby. you need me to help you to the toilet?" you ask.
sevika laughs. "no, no, baby. i'm fart! farted! whatever."
you shake your head in confusion, and then it hits you. "sevika, estas pedo!?" you ask with a laugh.
sevika grins and nods up at you. "yes! 'm fuckin' wasted! y'r so beautiful, i love y' s'much."
you giggle and haul your wife to her feet, gently guiding her toward your room. "i'll set a barf bucket and some painkillers out for you, okay?"
"mmm. wǒ ài nǐ." she mumbles into her pillow.
you giggle and kiss her forehead. "i love you too, you fart."
kofi
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taglist!!
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idyllwave · 5 months ago
Text
the one place you want to be | jinwoo x fem!reader
italicized font = your langauge
normal font = korean langauge
You wanted to cry, like for real.
Dying wasn't on your to-do list and neither was being hit by a truck and going through that lame ass anime trope of being transported to another world.
However, since you realized that you've been sent to Solo Leveling, you found that you didn't quite mind that isekai trope, well, until you realized one fatal flaw....
You don't speak korean.
You always wanted to learn the language, but never found the time or money. So, of course, the one time you decide to be a lazy ass you get sent to another world where said language is being spoken.
You wanted to rip your hair out because you were so damn frustrated. Life truly wasn't fair-
Your internal panic and anguish was momentarily disrupted by a soft tap on your shoulder. Blearily, you managed to blink through your tears as you looked over.
Holy shit- Jinwoo?!
Looking at him, it was clear that he was tall and muscular. So, did the double dungeon happen already..., but how far was he in the story now?
Then you noticed that he was talking to you and you immediately panicked.
"Sorry, I don't speak Korean," you said your words slow, like an idiot, as if saying it slow was going to help the fact that you were speaking in another language, but you couldn't help it.
You didn't know what else to do, and it wasn't like you were teleported with your smartphone either.
Jinwoo seemed to smile at you as he brought out his phone and began to type something down before showing it to you. Looking down at it, you saw the dumb translator text that Google provides, but honestly, you were thankful.
You quickly read over the text while being both surprised and grateful that he was able to pick out your language so easily.
'So the system sent you as a prize this time?'
Huh?
You furrowed your brow and looked up at him, a slight tilt to your head. You, of course, read through Solo Leveling and even started watching the anime, so seeing the word System wasn't what surprised you, it was the fact that he was referring to you as some sort prize he got after completing his dailies.
You raised your hand and typed something in the little box, your words being translated to him easily.
'System? Prize? What do you mean?'
His eyes scanned your words before typing his reply, 'when i completed the dungeon the system gave me a choice. when i chose what i wanted, you appeared.'
You hesitantly took a step back, but he matched it by taking a step forward. He started to type again.
'You look like you know what I'm talking about.'
You nervously looked around, but despite his dangerously good looks, Jinwoo was still "technically" an e-rank, so it wasn't like all eyes were on him at the moment.
"I- i really don't know what you're talking about-," your eyes widened as you slapped a hand to your mouth. What the-?! You don't know how to speak korean!
Jinwoo smiled at that as he put his phone away, "looks like the system is helping me out again by getting rid of that language barrier. So tell me, where were you before the system brought you here?"
You couldn't tell if this was the start of a dream come true, or a nightmare.
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natsswife · 5 days ago
Text
iris x fem!reader (nsfw, fluff) minors, cishet ppl DNI ill hunt yall down like shauna w mari
she gets the job DONE and managed to get u pregnant dont ask me how i wrote this while ovulating n listening to the giver by chappell, lesbianism is just that magic ok (sorry if theres some errors, english is not my first language and im not using a translator bc im tryna improve my C2 level frfr) cw: pregnancy, suggestive, iris is aware of what she is, my first time posting here im still learning how to put content warning so pls bear w me!!
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⋆。 the most sweetest wife ever, couldn't be more proud to have fulfilled your dream (and hers also)
⋆。 you think it was impossible at first, after all shes just an AI companion, how can she push science limits just to accomplish one of your dreams right?
⋆。 but your happiness is everything to her, even if she has to fight god and her own system herself to see you happy having a mini you and hers in your arms she will<3
⋆。 at first you have to reassure her that you're happy even if she couldn't give you a baby, is not like you will love her less bc of that, you just thought that tiny human that is the living image of you and her is would be beautiful
⋆。 but yk how is iris, she wont give up that easily so she’ll investigate by herself, searching on her tablet, digging in her own system how or what she can do to change something in her to fulfill your wish
⋆。 and she DID!! but wont tell u until its done, she maintains daily checks on your cycle and wait until youre on your most fertile days, nd will accompany this be making you lots of drinks that benefit ur system, teas and juices full of vitamins that'll help your ovulation<3 
⋆。 one night she makes your favorite dinner, you notice she has been more touchy and clingy these few days but you just cant figure what she wants:(!!
⋆。 probably wants to try something new in bed or similar, and acc it wasn't far away from that!!
⋆。 that same night she was the one who treated you like a princess, you could tell she was more delicate by the way her hands caressed your hips, how her wet lips kissed your lower stomach down to your pussy, taking her time giving sweet pecks to your clit before inserting her fingers 
⋆。 she takes her sweet time down there before the real action starts, making you moan and squirt countless times like nothing before, you could swear something has changed in her, its not like she never pleased you like that, but this time was different.
⋆。 it was the way her hands never stopped caressing your stomach, the way her eyes never left yours while her tongue worked wonders in your pussy, the way she kissed you with lust and love like it was gonna be the last time, like she has a purpose she needs to accomplish 
⋆。 after that night you decided to just ask her what’s wrong, not like u wanted to complain for making you see stars, the milkyway and god itself in one night, but she was up to something and you needed to know what is it.
⋆。 and thats how the sudden new left you in pure shock for a bit, u weren angry but rather shocked, how did she manage to hijack her system? was it even possible in the first place?
“dont worry my darling, i found the safest way to make it possible for both of us, arent you happy”
“well… yeah its- im i mean i’m amazed but HOW?”
“subtle changes in my system, i have managed to find a way to change things, it was rather easy since i am a companion model, set to accomplish my partners desires”
⋆。 and with that the best months of your life came
⋆。 it was shocking at first, especially when the blood test came out positive, when the first ultrasound showed a cute tiny baby size of pea, you could swear you heard iris sob a little when you heard their heartbeat, knowing there was an actual baby in there with their tiny hands, fingers, heart developing to become the most sweetest thing you both will have in your arms in some months.
⋆。 as the months pass iris became more protective, she was always helping you with house chores before but now shes the one in charge of everything house-related, wont let u lift a single finger, and is there for anything you need.
⋆。 will spend whole day if its possible kissing your belly, caressing and giving sweet kisses while talking to your baby, pleading them to move just a little bit so she can feel them
⋆。 will prepare the most delicious meals full of vitamins to help you prepare for the breastfeeding
⋆。 you got weirdass craving a 3 a.m but r too scared to go to the kitchen bc 3 a.m is the hour where the devil hangs around with their demons besties in everyone's house? dont worry iris there to prepare your super delicious sandwich which includes strawberry jam and lemon savored chips and why not also fight demons only for you<3 
⋆。 shes even there when ur pregnancy hormones strikes and make u feel like the most sex deprived women where you only need her tongue licking your pussy and make you cum in 69 different positions till you feel pregnant again, doesn't matter, she will get the job done no matter what<3
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ 。˚
do not translate w/o permission, copy or use for ai training, train your useless brain instead<3
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